the Sephardic Rabbi Franco. Fear of a truly serious threat to br

their lives is now evident. It is clear that they must do something br

more than just sit and wait. It is decided to send a delegation to br

the British police chief to protest the forced penning of Jews in br

their homes instead of firmly letting the Arabs know that break- br

ing the law will not be tolerated. A delegation is sent to the br

Britisher’s office, and on the way they meet one of the heads of br

the Arab community, Isa Arafa. They tell him that if he can get br

the Hebron Arab leaders to announce publicly that they are re- br

sponsible for the lives of the Jews, the Jews will continue their br

ties with the Arabs, including the continued bank credit that the br

Arabs need. If not, all commercial ties will be cut. The Arab br

agrees, but meanwhile he goes with them to see the British po- br

lice chief. To everyone’s amazement, the police chief refuses to br

see the delegation, shouting: “What are you doing here? I told br

you a number of times that you must remain in your homes!”

The Arab listens, and now his tone changes. He tells br

Slonim: “If you will hand over the strangers in your midst, you br

will save your own lives.” Slonim replies angrily: “We Jews are br

not like you Muslims. We are one people; there are no br

‘strangers’ among us.” In deep worry the Jews walk home, br

watching as thousands of Arabs shout and march through the br

streets, fully armed, while in their midst walk a few policemen br

carrying clubs.

Without the knowledge of the Jewish leaders, the slaughter br

has already begun. In one of the houses, farther away from the br

center, lives the Abushadid family. The father, Eliyahu, fifty- br

five, is a storekeeper, born in Hebron. He suddenly appears on br

the balcony of his home, screaming for help. No one hears or br

listens. The police are nowhere to be seen. Rocks begin flying br

into the house, smashing windows, and screams of terror are br

heard. Several women and children appear on the balcony. An br

Arab, his eyes filled with hate and lust, rushes at them, swinging br

a sword. He cuts and stabs again and again. Blood spurts over br

the balcony and drips into the street. Inside lie the bodies of br

Eliyahu Abushadid and his twenty-five-year-old son, Yitzchok, br

a simple tailor. Dead, too, are forty-five-year-old Yaakov br

Goslan, a smelter, also born in the city, and his eighteen-year- br

old son Moshe. The Arabs do not even look at the bodies; they br

are much too busy looting the house and throwing Jewish property br