At Ben Gurion Airport, the three men and Vera were met by an Israeli intelligence officer. He welcomed them and let them know he had been directed to drive them to their appointed destinations. He also told them that they were expected the next morning for a meeting at the Foreign Ministry.
Noam’s stop was first, a settlement in the Judean Hills where he lived with his wife and three children. Eli was dropped off next at his apartment in the Old Katamon neighborhood of Jerusalem. Finally, the driver deposited Eitan and Vera at the Vert Hotel, which was situated just down the road from the Foreign Ministry and was popular with lower-level foreign diplomats. He handed Eitan an envelope that contained a letter and a room key.
“You can go right up to your room, Rabbi,” the driver announced. “Everything has already been arranged. Vera, your room is arranged as well. Here is your key. You will be comfortable here until your meeting tomorrow.”
“Thank you, I appreciate it,” the rabbi said, pleasantly surprised. Vera smiled as well.
Upon entering the relatively outdated yet acceptable hotel, Eitan helped Vera find her room. Then he entered his room on the same floor, hopped on the bed, and removed the letter from the envelope he had been given. A table had been reserved for them in a private room at Eucalyptus, a well-known Jerusalem eatery. Eucalyptus happened to be one of the rabbi’s very favorite spots in all of Israel. Nice choice, he thought to himself.
The rabbi flipped on the television and scanned the news on one of the Israeli news channels before catching a quick nap and getting ready for dinner. He then took a cab from the hotel to the Jaffa Gate of the Old City. This would allow him a chance to walk for a few blocks in the Jerusalem air before arriving at the restaurant. The rabbi loved the walk along the Ottoman walls that surrounded the Old City. After walking a short distance, he turned right and strolled down a hill onto a small alleyway known as Feit Alley. This led to Jerusalem’s trendy Artist Quarter, and within moments he arrived at his destination.
Upon arrival, a hostess guided him to the back of the dining room, where a curved staircase stretched upwards towards the rooftop courtyard. Rabbi Groh loved the view of the ancient walls of Jerusalem. The outdoor seating section had been closed off, and a man from the Foreign Ministry was waiting for Rabbi Groh to join him.
“Welcome to Yerushalayim. I am Yehoshua Gruber. I am from a special desk at the Foreign Ministry that deals specifically with Diaspora affairs. I am very happy that you are here, and I am looking forward to working with you,” Yehoshua said as he motioned for Eitan to have a seat. A variety of salad dishes had already been laid out, along with fresh warm pita and a pitcher of mint-infused lemonade. Though the rabbi knew he was here for business, he was not going to waste this chance to gorge himself at Eucalyptus.
“Where are you from, Yehoshua? Are you a Jerusalemite?” Eitan asked while placing a healthy dollop of baba ghanoush on the warm pita in front of him. Rabbi Groh was curious about Yehoshua, a young man who appeared to be in his mid-thirties. He was not quite six feet tall and had striking Mediterranean features. He had a beautiful head of dirty blond hair, dark brown eyes, and a sleek, athletic frame. Later Eitan would learn that Yehoshua could have been a professional soccer player had he not spurned a military exemption and accepted an offer from an Israeli professional team. He chose an elite IDF combat unit instead.
“No, I grew up on a kibbutz near Tiberias,” Yehoshua responded.
“Which one?” Rabbi Groh inquired.
“It is called Nof Kinneret. Have you heard of it?”
Rabbi Groh put down the slice of pita he was about to eat and looked up at Yehoshua. “Wait a minute, did you say your last name is Gruber? You’re not related to Jan Gruber, are you?” the rabbi asked with great curiosity.
“He was my grandfather,” Yehoshua answered, knowing that the rabbi was starting to piece some of the puzzle together in his mind.
“Oh my God, you are the grandson of Jan and Natalia. My grandfather. . .” Eitan trailed off.
Yehoshua seemed to be enjoying the rabbi’s realization of the connection between their families. He knew that their relationship dated back to a Greek ship called the Maharhash, where Yehoshua’s grandfather first met his grandmother. It was a ship whose voyage was escorted by an American rabbi who would become famous for dedicating his life to helping survivors find refuge in Palestine.
As Eitan sat in amazement, Yehoshua began filling in some of the pieces for him.
“Eitan,” he began, “I knew your grandfather when I was young, and I also know of his reputation on the kibbutz. He was a hero to us, and my grandparents never forgot what he did for them. They loved spending time with him on all his trips to Israel, and they appreciated everything he did for them,” Yehoshua recounted.
“I appreciate that Yehoshua. Our family has always taken great pride in my grandfather’s role with the Maharhash, and his love for Nof Kinneret.”
Yehoshua nodded in appreciation for Eitan’s sentiments. After a brief moment of silence, Eitan inquired about Yehoshua’s work.
“So what is your role in all of this? I am I allowed to ask about that?”
“Normally I never tell anyone outside the agency anything about what I am doing, but since my job here is to help you, it’s no problem,” Yehoshua said with a smile.
“Lately I have been working on the Ukrainian issue, and that is the main reason why I am here with you. But I primarily assess threats from the Palestinian sector and try to prevent problems before they arise.”
“I am sure you are not bored in that job,” Eitan replied.
“We do have good cooperation with the Palestinian authority, but the number of terror attempts people never hear about is unbelievable. People only hear about the attacks that succeed, not the thousands of operations that we foil,” Yehoshua responded.
“I can only imagine.”
“This Ukrainian issue is not helping matters either,” Yehoshua added.
“Really? What does that have to do with the Palestinians?” Eitan asked with surprise.
Yehoshua took a deep breath and then answered. “Part of the Palestinian narrative has always been that we Jews are really Europeans who came to the Middle East and stole their land. They act like they have been here forever, while we are European imperialists who came and stole their land,” Yehoshua explained. “They seem to forget that we have three thousand years of history here. Now with people talking about bringing thousands of Ukrainian Jews to Israel, the Palestinians are getting agitated. We have been monitoring an increase in chatter about possible terror threats against the Russian Jews who are already here. I guess they will never learn,” Yehoshua added.
“Learn what?”
“That this is the homeland of the Jewish people. And we will not apologize for bringing Jews back home. Whether they come from Ethiopia or Russia, or Ukraine.”
“I hear you,” Eitan said in agreement. “The main thing now is to get those Ukrainian Jews here.”
“You got that right. With your help, we will. You know, the discoveries that you and Eli uncovered really shocked and excited people here. We haven’t had any success with the Ukrainians. It’s like the old days of the Iron Curtain. We are just unable to help the Jews stuck there,” Yehoshua said.
“I could imagine there is not much appetite for Ukraine anymore in my country. It’s an old story now. We seem to be more focused on tearing ourselves apart with internal politics,” Eitan responded.
“That is our assessment as well. But we hope that your information might be able to help us make some headway in the States,” Yehoshua said.
“I certainly hope so,” Eitan responded.
“We will see tomorrow when we meet at the Ministry. In the meantime, let’s get you back to the hotel. I am sure you must be tired,” Yehoshua said.
Standing up from the table, the two men shook hands and exchanged smiles. As he rose from his seat, Eitan said, “It’s incredible to be here with you, Yehoshua. A Gruber and a Groh two generations later.”
“And here in Jerusalem,” Yehoshua added. “Our grandparents are smiling on this moment. But hey, let’s get out of here—tomorrow will be a big day. Come on, I’ll give you a ride back to your hotel.”