Mr. Speaker,
Members of Knesset,
Mrs. Ravitz and the Ravitz Family,
My Friends,

Rabbi Ravitz had three great loves during his lifetime: his love for the people of Israel, his love of the Torah and his love for the Land of Israel.  First, his love for the people of Israel – Avraham Ravitz was a Member of Knesset for 20 years; he served in a number of positions.  He was a deputy minister in several government ministries.  He headed the Finance Committee.  He was an active member of numerous Knesset committees. 

The positions he held allowed him to demonstrate his special personality, and his love for the people of Israel, which was expressed in every position he held.  He saw himself as a messenger of the public, and that public had diverse needs.  He was even-tempered, and he spoke with each individual in their own language – with important people or with simple ones, with ultra-orthodox Jews and with secular ones, with people on the Left and on the Right, with laborers or with professors.  He always spoke straight, with an enchanting friendliness. 

I think he had a special understanding of the feelings of the other side, without relinquishing his beliefs.  Ravitz was assertive and generous.  He could always get inside other people’s hearts because of this special combination, and because of this he bridged between the secular and the ultra-orthodox.  There were many conflicts – and unfortunately there still are – between the ultra-orthodox and the secular in our country, and Avraham’el was always ready to hear and understand the other side.  Out of this understanding, he would find solutions.  In general, he had a special ability to listen.  I would say he was a champion at understanding his fellow man.

Second, his love of the Torah and the importance of education – Ravitz was an educator.  From the depths of his soul, he was first and foremost an educator.  He was one from the time he was a central activist in Torah education for the children in the immigrant camps, and later on when he served in various positions as the head of a yeshiva. 

I remember one special story about how as a young man he was active in Jewish education for immigrants from Yemen.  He found five liras, which was a respectable, but not a huge, amount.  He ran around to all the shops in Tel Aviv in order to buy them yarmulkes and fringed garments, and later he snuck in under the fence of the Ein-Shemer Camp and distributed the yarmulkes and fringed garments to the children.  However, he was caught, and when he was caught he went to the camp commander and told him: “It won’t help you, we are here.  We want a room so that we can teach the children the Torah.”  Of course, he received a room in one of the bungalows.

His love of education was an inseparable part of him, and so was his love of the Land.  In the session marking the centenary of the birth of Yair [Avraham Stern, head of the Lehi], Ravitz told the story of the circumstances that led him to join the Lehi as a youth.  I want to quote him, because his words speak more than anything said here, but it is important that we hear these words at this gathering.  He said: “I was a boy studying at the ‘Talmud Torah Sinai’ school, near Mizrahi Bet Street in Little Tel Aviv.  One morning in the Hebrew month of Shvat, 1946, on a regular school day, my classmates and I heard several shots.  We ran down the stairs to the street and found pandemonium.  I asked people what had happened, and they all answered, ‘The British Police killed a robber and a Jewish murderer.’  I went back to class and my classmates asked me what had happened.  I mumbled what I had heard on the street.  The rabbi who was our teacher,” Ravitz said, “burst into tears and said, ‘Avraham’el, neither a murderer nor a Jewish robber did they kill.  They murdered a devoted Jewish hero.’  That rabbi was Rabbi Yitzhak Yididya Frankel, who later became the Chief Rabbi of Tel Aviv, Rabbi Lau’s father-in-law.  The entire class fell silent and was stunned.  ‘How so?’” Ravitz said. 

“We were in shock,” and then he said, “I began to think, and wandered between the terms murderer, hero, robber, devotion, and I reached several conclusions that are etched on my heart and built up my young personality.  Not everything that adults say is the truth, and not everything that the majority thinks is always right.”  And he added, “Because of Yair I knew that we faced a war of the few against the many and the weak against the strong to build a Jewish home for those persecuted in the European exile against the British who had conquered our land.”

That is how he joined the Lehi, and the Lehi entered his heart, as a seed that had sprouted, as he put it.  “I worked hard,” he said, “and I found my path with the fighters in the ranks of the Lehi, and I was privileged to fight most of the war in Jerusalem.”  I believe it is not coincidence that he ended up there, because he was a student at the Hebron Yeshiva, and a survivor of the Riots of 1929 in Hebron.  His father, when he was a student at the yeshiva, was saved by an Arab resident of the city, who hid him in his house.  I think he always lived under the shadow of the Riots of 1929.  I believe that his political perspective was built on the fact that his father lived in the city that, of course, had a predominantly Arab population, and he learned that it is possible to live in peace with our Arab neighbors as long as they recognize that the Jews have a right to live here. 

Love of the people and the Torah and the Land characterized him, but he had one other thing.  He had a spark of compassionate mischief with a lot of wisdom and kindness, and that brought me closer to him during my first tenure as prime minister.  I had the privilege of working with him; he was the Chairman of the Knesset Finance Committee, and naturally we came into contact a great deal, and we formed a special bond. 

Several days before he passed away, he turned 75.  I went to visit him, and I will always remember what I saw.  He was no longer on his sick bed, he was already on his way to the next world, but he smiled that smile of his, and I had come to talk to him, and he was there to talk to me.  He lay in his bed, truly exhausted, and spoke about the public’s needs and the situation, and I told him, “Avraham’el, rest.”  He simply smiled, with that same spark in his eyes, and even though he was exhausted, the entire time I was there, he insisted on asking about the situation, asking how we were adapting.  I think it touched me so much I nearly cried, but I felt that such a man was deserving of being strengthened as much as possible on his final journey.  He had a special stubbornness, a devotion to his public work, even unto desperation, a devotion that stirred in me, and I am certain in you too, amazement and wonder.

Ravitz family, you who were with him in his final moments, I would like to tell you, on behalf of this entire House, on behalf of the people of Israel: your beloved is gone, but we will never say goodbye to our memories of him.  With his death, a magnificent life has ended, but our memories of him will be present here for many years to come, to all those who are called.  He left his mark on all of us.  “He will eliminate death forever, and the Almighty will erase tears from all faces.”