Dear Topol, what a difficult day you found to leave us, our world, and move to a world that is all good. One of the most difficult days that have passed Israel in recent years – the numerous demonstrations throughout the country, the despicable siege on the “Kahalat” offices, the terrorist attack in the heart of Tel Aviv, the removal of a police chief and a senior reserve pilot. The bitter news of your departure opened the terrible day, and it was immediately overshadowed by the ongoing reports of the demonstrations.
Not just a great actor: a return to Haim Topol’s contribution to Israeli society
Saying goodbye to the legendary actor: hundreds came to pay their last respects to Chaim Topol
Pushed somewhat, one might say, to the margins of the news. You, the revered one, one of Israel’s greatest actors, winner of the Israel Prize, who brought us worldly honor, but first and foremost laughter and smiles that captured the hearts of all of us.
It’s been a few years since she disappeared from the landscape of our lives as the terrible Alzheimer’s disease progressed. At least you will be spared from seeing Israel torn apart, the radicalizing factionalism between the camps, between the coalition and the opposition, the dark days, when there is no person in Israel who does not have a gnawing concern for the truth.
In no less difficult days, when the country was in its infancy, and we did not yet have television, internet and smart phones, you and your friends were a source of light and optimism. You have injected hope, pride, unity into our veins. Your tremendous talent, the unmistakable smile on your face, your bass voice, your transforming image, brought to us and the world the two mythological figures – Saleh Shabti and Tobiah the Milkman.
The second is the work of Shalom Aleichem, the first is the work of Ephraim Kishon. You played them on stage and on celluloid in shows that will never be forgotten. In these two eternal films, there were many laughs, but also a lot of sad truth, about poverty, discrimination, troubles, and all this without excessive bitterness and excessive anger, out of love and humanity. Your character as an actor illuminated dark corners of our lives.
Your heart has never frowned and your head has never lifted. Even in everyday life, you were both a human being, a Tel Avivian Sabar Asli, and also a great man of the world. Your name was not associated with various affairs, you were fresh, pure, innocent and wise. Wherever you go, you are immediately at the center of things, at the center of attention. That’s how I saw you up close in meetings with our mutual friend Amos Ettinger, with many of your peers who played themselves as eternally young, embracing the shared past. A generation that left the stage.
Love of Israel and the Land of Israel, love of man – these are the components of your ideology. You were born to Beitarim parents who met on a dilapidated ship on the way to Israel, as part of the “Regardless” immigration. You didn’t talk about it much, but you didn’t hide it either. This is told in your playful book, full of illustrations from your brush: “Haim tells about Topol”. In 2008, you accepted my invitation to visit the Jabotinsky Institute, which is located not far from your house on Dov Hoz Street. We wanted to use you to raise funds, but you testified – honestly – that you dedicate everything to the aid and development of the Jordan River village, for children with serious illnesses. In this human enterprise, which so shocked your personality and your giving, you are working wonders.
You told us about your parents’ Jewish background, about Jabotinsky’s “magnetizing” personality, and encouraged us with wonderful words: “Your role is more important than you think, in view of the ‘garbage’ that the youth see on television today.” Then I dared to invite you to “Beit Abba”, the archive and museum in honor of Avi Mori. You came, you saw, you conquered. You brought with you an exciting treasure: a portrait of my father, which you painted, as one of dozens of portraits of different personalities, which you often painted with great talent. Of course, the painting hangs on the wall of the archive, with your signature emblazoned on it – not “Topol” but “Life”. Such familiarity. Love, chastity, art – indeed, also in drawing and painting.
Perhaps a hint of your right-wing political inclination was not only in your Beitar roots (you were never in Beitar), but in the close friendship that was forged between you and the late Rehabam Zeevi, since your paths crossed when he was the head of staff of the South Command and you were the commander of the Nahal band. The two lovers of the land, the settlement, and the song of the land. They say you “came out of the political closet” after Gandhi’s assassination. You did not hesitate to defy those who dishonored his memory.
You commemorated him with a state medal and monuments. When you came to help the Netzer settlement in Gush Katif, it was already clear to everyone, and you didn’t hide it, that you support the complete Land of Israel and the settlements. You compared your wicker to Tel Hai and pitched it, but your hope that you would not be turned away – was deceived.
You were no longer aware of the current situation in Israel, and of course you could not make a conciliatory voice. Precisely now your absence is so felt, as a unifying figure between right and left, between secular and traditionalists. When the nation wakes up, when everyone realizes that the rifts are leading to a national disaster, it will also be thanks to your inspiration, your joy of life, your faith. Peace be upon you, dear Topol, thank you for being among us.