The Jews of Ethiopia Resumption of Relations with Israel Has Brought New Hope, New Hardships

Ethiopia — Parallel lines run between the Exodus of the Children of Israel from Egypt 3,300 years ago and the exodus of their descendants from Ethiopia.

Like their forefathers, the Ethiopian Jews left their homes for the Promised Land with the belief that there they would find the remedy to all their troubles. Jewish advocacy groups and humanitarian organizations from the United States urged them to rush, pack their belongings and hit the road.

The road has proved harder than expected. Some long for the fleshpots of the old country. But it is too late. The old days of the Jewish presence in Gondar province are gone forever. There is only one destination now: Israel.

History will judge whether Ethiopia’s Jews were rushed out of their native villages too early, whether they should have waited until their departure could have been coordinated better with the Ethiopian authorities.

For years, the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee has operated in Gondar on a non-sectarian basis, extending help to the Jews as well as to the local non-Jewish population.

Ideally, the organization — which has enjoyed the full trust of the Ethiopian authorities throughout the eight years of its work in Gondar — would have continued its work in the region.

But reality has dictated otherwise. In November 1989, Ethiopia and Israel re-established diplomatic relations, which had been severed in 1977. The Israeli flag was once again raised on top the embassy in the Shola neighborhood of Addis Ababa.

The reopening of the embassy speeded up the influx of the Ethiopian Jews into Addis Ababa. The refugees thought that within a matter of days they would continue on to Israel.

HUNDREDS BECAME THOUSANDS

But when the Ethiopian government did not rush to open the gates, the refugees from Gondar were stuck in the capital. From hundreds they became thousands, and soon there was a housing shortage. They chose to settle wherever they found a roof over their heads. The overcrowding, poor sanitary conditions and hardships of the road have caused illness.

A small team of experts from the Joint has met the challenge. They established a medical program which within months cut the mortality rate from 39 deaths last July to 13 in November.

JDC also runs workshops to keep adults busy. One involves taking empty food bags and converting them into mattresses. And an Israeli non-profit organization called Almaya, which receives United Jewish Appeal funds through the Joint, has set up a community center on the grounds of the Israeli Embassy.

The story of Halen Genatu Mola is the story of one person who was seeking help and found it on the grounds of the Israeli Embassy.

Halen, 16, showed up at the embassy wrapped in a white shawl and said she had just come from Gondar, with no relatives whatsoever. Her parents had left three years ago and gone to Israel, she said. They left her behind, instructing her to set out on the road a few weeks later.

But when she showed up at Gondar airport, she said, she was arrested and put in jail for an entire year. She was released as unexpectedly as she was arrested and had been on the road ever since, until arriving in Addis Ababa.

Her story sounded so incredible that Malka Shabtai, in charge of an outreach program run by Almaya, was sent to check it out. There had been others who had falsely claimed to have relatives in Israel.

A TELEPHONE CALL AND TEARS

It was difficult to get information out of Halen. She seemed to want to conceal who had helped her out in the difficult times she had endured.

But as she pulled out letters her mother, Woynichet Genatu Mola, had sent her from the Kiryat Gat immigrant absorption center in Israel, her story suddenly became more credible.

Though Halen’s mother was not Jewish, she had gone to Israel with her husband. Why they had left the girl behind was unclear.

While much remained shrouded in mystery, the fact that Halen had a family member at an absorption center in Israel was the only thing that mattered.

The circle was quickly closed. Malka spoke to Benny, an official at the Israeli Embassy who had worked at the Kiryat Gat absorption center. Yes, he knew the mother. Yes, he knew that her daughter Halen was left behind in Ethiopia.

The next morning Halen turned up at the embassy, where she received a surprise. Benny picked up the phone and dialed Israel. Within minutes, Halen’s mother was on the other line, speaking to her daughter.

When the telephone conversation was over, Halen’s frozen face was changed. Suddenly the young woman who had tried so hard to impress the Israeli authorities with her maturity burst into tears. She was herself again: a frightened, lonely little girl.

Malka promised her that soon she would be on the plane to Israel.

AN UNCERTAIN FUTURE

But unfortunately it is not up to Malka to decide. That is the prerogative of the Ethiopian authorities, who are presently engaged in intensive negotiations with Israel and the United States to work out a deal in which Ethiopia would allow more Jews to join families in Israel, in exchange for increased Israeli and American aid to Ethiopia’s ailing economy.

Whether those talks will produce more exit visas remains an open question.

The political uncertainties are plenty. Officials at the embassy and at the clinic work around the clock to achieve as much as possible, as fast as possible. Past experience has shown that suddenly, without prior warning, everything can come to a standstill.

The good news is the knowledge that even if all hell breaks loose, the JDC — with its excellent record of good relations with the Ethiopian government — will remain in the area, to deal with whomever is left behind.

The sad ending to this story is the illusion so widely spread among the people stranded in Addis Ababa that once they come to Israel, all problems will be solved. The difficult truth is that they will merely enter a new phase. It will take years, not merely a four-hour flight, before the Ethiopian Jews make the perfect landing in Israel.