Masada

The Abraham Hostel, Jerusalem

Having got into the hostel at Masada, and getting to bed at a sensible time, sober, I ended up lying awake until 4.30AM when I had to get up for the obligatory ritual at Masada: a swift climb up the mountain to watch the sunrise over Jordan, on the other side of the Dead Sea.

Masada is a symbolic site to Jewish/ Israeli people as it is where the Jewish revolt against the Roman Empire came to a spectacular end, a couple of decades after Jesus’s death. When reading about the Romans’ fights, I always find myself identifying with them as they are the smart, disciplined army fighting against savages, who would be better off if they just accepted Roman rule- much like whenever British soldiers fight.  Masada is a hilltop fort that King Herod (the original ‘baby-killer’) had built and the Romans were using, effectively, as a FOB (Forward Operating Base), until the Jews revolted, over ran the fort, and used it launch attacks against the Roman garrison. 

In response to this the Romans besieged the hilltop fort, with 900 odd rebels inside, for two years.  As they were unable to actually get at the fort they got slaves to build a vast ramp up to the fort so they could get their ‘siege kit’ up to the walls of the fort.  Once the rebels on the inside realised that the siege towers etc were about to be in a position from which the Roman soldiers would have a ‘break in point’, they took the decision to kill themselves rather than be taken alive by the Romans.  10 men were chosen, by lots, to kill the other 900 odd people in the fort, before killing themselves, so when the Romans got into the fort, all they encountered were dead bodies.  This act is regarded as great act of heroism by the Jewish people and Israeli Defence Force units, who I have enormous respect for, have their initiation ceremonies up on the hilltop.  However, I have to say, I think it is a bit defeatist and I prefer the story of the Alamo, where the besieged Texans were all killed, but went out ‘with a bang’ taking 3 times as many attackers with them. ‘Hoo-ah!’ as the yanks would say.

Anyway, after breakfast at the hostel, I got a lift from a very nice British couple, who had a hire car, up to the Ein Gedi bus stop, where I could get a bus back to Jerusalem.  While quietly minding my own business at the bus stop, about half a dozen teenage Israeli delinquents came over to me.  Initially they demanded a cigarette from me, which was a non-starter, then once they realised where I was from I was drawn into the inevitable conversation about football, and had to pretend that I supported Chelsea.  One guy asked me if I was Jewish, and then made no attempt to hide his disapproval of the fact I’m not.  The highlight of the conversation, for me, was when an Israeli Air Force C130 transport plane suddenly flew over us and the boys were cheering “Hurray!  They’re going to bomb Iran!” which made laugh- that’s the spirit!

Anyway, from there I headed on up to Jerusalem, which is not actually in England’s green and pleasant land, after all...