The Defense Minister's secure convoy was stopped on one of the bustling streets of Rabat, the capital of Morocco.
Bnei Gantz is accompanied, by his military secretary, Brigadier General Yaki Dolph, surrounded by two security rings.
One of the GSS personnel and the other of the secret unit in Morocco for security of persons. Curious civilians were politely transferred across the main street. The security delegation ascended lightly to the second floor in a spacious building and entered the Talmud Torah synagogue. Handshakes and polite words in French and Hebrew, and he was honored to open the Torah Hall.
Cantor Gabriel Deri began to fight and curl his voice, congratulating King Muhammad VI, members of the Israeli government and its advisers.
Suddenly, Ganz, Brigadier General Dolph, who was formerly the paratroopers' brigade commander and his military future before him, and the other IDF officers, GSS members who secured the building, and the other members of the delegation turned their gaze to the cantor.
"Whoever blessed our ancestors Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, he will bless the soldiers of the Israel Defense Forces who stand guard over our land and the cities of our God from the border of Lebanon to the desert of Egypt. Trouble and distress.
And from every affliction and disease and will send a blessing of welfare and success and in all their deeds. "
"Prayer won and concern for the peace of IDF soldiers struck me" (Photo: Amir Bohbot)
My grandfather, the eldest son of a family of 12, felt in those years that the city where the trouble grew up took his steps and contrary to his father's knowledge decided to flee to Casablanca, which underwent a development process by the French, to fulfill his big dream and become a businessman
On the one hand, the cantor from the city of Rabat greets the King of Morocco, and on the other hand, the IDF soldiers who actually admit that his power and strength are dependent on the very existence of the State of Israel, which military commanders face, some wearing IDF uniforms, a refuge from an existential threat.
It was the moment when my eyes watered and my heart filled with longing for my grandfather Meir Bohbot his memory of blessing. "Baba" we called him. The prayer won and the concern for the peace of the IDF soldiers struck me. I remembered a child I was decades ago, standing in the synagogue that my grandfather built with his own hands, in the heart of the alleys of the D neighborhood in Be'er Sheva in the early 1960s. The variance, especially in Lebanon, and suffered heavy losses. I will not forget how the voices of the worshipers in my grandfather's synagogue would rise to high decibels to emphasize the concern and plea for the safety of the soldiers some of whom were absent from the synagogue during the Six Day War, including my father, David, who fought in those daysAnd so it was in the Yom Kippur War.
For two days I accompanied the Defense Minister's delegation to Morocco prior to the signing of a historic security agreement. For two days I heard the familiar accent melody from my grandfather's house, the most authentic scents and dishes of the Moroccan community, and I was even able to locate a sponge in the local market. I spoke with generals in Morocco about the common near future in the security field - not only in the import and export of defense industries, but in training and information exchange. One of them said that his daughter would visit Tel Aviv soon and that he hoped to visit himself.
I met with the commanders of the first paratroop brigade in the Moroccan army who were proud of the integration of women as operational paratroopers, and from others I heard about the strictness of the training graph, the challenges within the country and the collaborations with foreign armies.
I visited the office of the Minister of Defense of Morocco at the signing of the historic document and outside the office where Defense Minister Bnei Gantz spoke with the head of the Moroccan Mossad whose name has gone far because of great successes in the world of human intelligence.
But the moment this journey took a turn, was for me the moment I remembered my "Baba Meir", which for me was a world in its entirety.
"Baba Meir" was for me a world in its entirety (Photo: Amir Bohbot)
My grandfather Meir was born in 1917 at the time of the Balfour Declaration in the city of Mazev in Morocco as the son of a goldsmith. Until the age of Bar Mitzvah he spent most of his time as the great-grandfather of my great-grandfather, in charge of the coals and the height of the fire that melted the various metals. My grandfather, the eldest son of a family of 12, felt in those years that the city where the trouble grew up took his steps and contrary to his father's opinion decided to flee to Casablanca, which had undergone a development process by the French, to fulfill his big dream and become a businessman.
He initially sold fried fish and when one of his family members moved to the market area, he was forced to flee so that his father would not know. He then began a new career - the cloth trade. My grandfather was a friend of his uncle on his mother's side, and while he was taking advantage of his French citizenship - he managed to buy fabrics cheaply and sell them at a big profit.
Slowly he opened sales shops in a commercial area called "Caesarea" in the heart of Casablanca, to which his parents and the rest of his family moved.
The next step involved opening sewing shops.
My grandfather married Zohara, who was born in the town of Bujad, before the Atlas Mountains, where former Minister Amir Peretz was born and raised.
My grandmother was orphaned at a young age after her father was murdered by Arabs who threw him into a well.
13 sons and daughters were born to them.
13-year-old Simon died at a local hospital of an acute pneumonia that deteriorated rapidly.
(Photo: Amir Bohbot)
60 years later, at the end of a search, my father will be able to locate his burial place, even though Green has covered the tombstone and erased the subtitles.
His pride was not only in locating the place - but also calling it Kaddish in his memory and renewing the monument in Italian marble
60 years later, at the end of a search, my father will be able to locate his burial place, even though Green has covered the tombstone and erased the subtitles. His pride was not only locating the place - but calling it Kaddish in his memory and renewing the monument in Italian marble.
In the mid-1950s, the security of the Jewish community declined significantly in the wake of calls by nationalist citizens for the French to leave the country and promote the return of King Hassan. At times the local leaders declared a general strike in Casablanca, and my grandfather, like the other merchants, was asked to close the markets to trade. Those who did not accede to their requests - set fire to their stores in an area called "Aber Karma". My grandfather saw with his own eyes how the angry nationalist Arabs emptied his prosperous business. As the eldest son who cared for his parents, brothers and sisters and the future of his children, he decided to lead the aliyah to Israel.
In the dead of night, in a hurry, and without prior notice to the immediate surroundings and his employees, including his personal driver, he boarded with his family the "Ginny," a ship transporting animals.
In his head is a sense of existential threat on the one hand and hope for a better life in the young Land of Israel on the other.
One child was left behind because the smugglers on behalf of the Jewish Agency restricted the Jews.
The children slept on nets on board, and the parents were filled with anxieties and worries in the face of stench from the cells and the oppressive overcrowding for four days.
The "Ginny" almost drowned on the way after many skies filled her stomach.
My uncles described it as an "visible miracle."
The ship docked in Marseille, but the tension and fear of the unknown increased.
Historical security agreement.
Ganz Barbat (Photo: Ministry of Defense, Ariel Hermoni)
The family received permission to enter a refugee camp built by the Germans during World War II and was given the nickname "Drance". The snow piled up at the entrance to the round tin buildings, water did not come out of the taps as the temperature dropped rapidly and many children suffered cold spells until the arrival of a new ship called the "Jerusalem". After five days of sailing to Israel, members of the extended Bohbot family were received by members of the Fruit Agency, since it was a Tu B'Shvat holiday.
The road to the transit camp in Beit She'an was short. The State of Israel. My grandfather had to put his pride aside to make a living, left the suit, tie and hat in the tent, and began paving the roads of the Beit She'an Valley. At the entrance to Beit She'an. Today it has a spacious villa on its ruins.
The family later moved to Moshav Be'erutayim B, which was given the name Olesh, but the agricultural life in the moshav did not suit Baba Meir and he decided to move to Avia Hashofet Street in the heart of the D neighborhood in Be'er Sheva.
Adaptation was slow, but in a positive direction.
My grandfather very quickly became a prominent figure among members of the Jewish community from Morocco.
He refused to come to terms with the conditions of purification and burial arrangements that had hitherto been according to the customs of Ashkenazi Jewry, and decided to finance and build his own money without state assistance or a synagogue called Magen David and the second mikveh in Be'er Sheva. And as is customary in Spanish Jewry.
Roots trip, but also closing a circle (Photo: Amir Bohbot)
I was amazed to discover that MK Margie was born in Rabat, immigrated to Israel, moved to Jerusalem as a child on Rabbi D Akiva Street in Be'er Sheva, and prayed at the Magen David Synagogue.
Along with the effort to help and support his brothers and sisters who immigrated to Israel and support his children, the Magen David Synagogue became the enterprise of his life. My first memory revolves around my grandparents' house in the D neighborhood and the synagogue. My noble grandfather would sit regularly dressed in a light gray suit, festive tie and French hat, in the center of the synagogue at the entrance to the cantor's stage - and his brother around him in the front row.
My grandfather was a humble and noble man who carefully selected his words and did not exaggerate in words. Sitting next to him as one of his dozens of grandchildren in the synagogue always gave me a sense of power and confidence. The prayers, piyyutim, blessings, and small talk that were bound like the other thread in the back benches of the synagogue were etched in my memory, but gradually faded with my grandfather's passing away.
A few hours before we arrived at the Rabat Synagogue, I met MK Yaakov Margi from the Shas faction in the hotel dining room. We exchanged impressions from the visit to Morocco, and shared experiences and feelings ahead of the trip to the synagogue. As a child on Rabbi Akiva Street in the D neighborhood of Be'er Sheva, he prayed in the Magen David Synagogue.
I was very excited to find out that my grandfather's synagogue staff decades ago arranged for his grandfather's burial in a special ceremony.
"Morocco is an amazing country, but there is nothing like Israel" (Photo: Amir Bohbot)
A few hours later we stood together in the synagogue in Rabat, listening to piyyut and blessings.
During his speech to the community leaders, he said that the visit is a trip for his roots but also a closing circle - when he returns with the Minister of Defense of the State of Israel to sign a historic security agreement with the Ministry of Defense in Morocco on behalf of the Israeli government.
On the way back to the hotel I got a phone call from my excited father from the pictures in the synagogue that I sent to Israel.
"Dear Amir Benny, it is a great privilege and mitzvah to know your roots, to see them up close, to remember and remember your grandparents. I am sure Grandpa was proud of you and happy to know that you are part of a delegation with the Minister of Defense in Morocco. I was indescribably thrilled. "That right. I told you that Morocco is an amazing country, but there is nothing like Israel."