Yigal Allon, Native Son. Anita Shapira

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      Figure 4. Class of elementary school, Mes’ha. Allon sits in the middle line, first from the right. Photographer unknown. Courtesy of the Allon family.

      The myth that had the greatest impact on young Allon was the story of Saul, to which he returned again and again: the lad who had been taken from behind the herd to become king of Israel. He and Mes’ha’s other children were spellbound by Saul Tchernichowsky’s ballad, “Be-Ein Dor,” their hearts pounding at the poet’s words when he visited their village. “Just imagine”—the mature Allon would quote the poet he had heard in the spring of his life—“how great King Saul was. The history was written by David’s sycophants, and even they did not manage to dwarf him. And if that is how he emerged from their hands, one may easily imagine how great a man he really was.”¹⁰³ Much like Kefar Tavor’s own boys, Saul was the pure, innocent country lad, the sacrifice of both the “sullen and displeased” Samuel, who ignored political considerations and the ways of war, and of David, who though he may have been the “sweet Psalmist” yet was ready to join the Philistines in their war against his own people. In Mes’ha’s childhood world, the preference for Saul—the handsome tragic figure of the Book of Samuel—over David, the devious victor who did not shrink from wrongdoing or bloodshed, was self-evident, especially since Saul’s brave war was waged near the village and Ein Dor was visible from the window. The love of Saul, the noble victim, and the rejection of David, the reckless victor, was anointed with Reuven’s blessing: the one and only kiss Allon ever received from his father was after Tchernichowsky’s talk, when the excited child bared his heart to Reuven, objecting to David and identifying with Saul.¹⁰⁴

      A product of the Mes’ha of the 1920s and 1930s, Allon lived in a world that was imprinted with “earthiness.” Love of nature, of landscape, of the surroundings were givens. Life was molded by work. The daily routine, the yearly cycle, prosperity, and dearth, all revolved around the farm. Allon was born into agriculture without agony or agonizing. It may have been hard, but it was a fact of life.¹⁰⁵

      The realities gave rise to a very simple value system: a concept of primary, almost biblical, justice—of “an eye for an eye”; relations of “give and take” with the Arab neighbors; courage and physical prowess; a farmer’s love of the land; loyalty to the family, to the village, to the country, to the nation. The measure of a man was how he lived up to these values.

      Daily life at Mes’ha no doubt posed a challenge to these values since the villagers hardly excelled in mutual help or cooperation. Extreme individualism occasionally degenerated into downright selfishness. Allon must have been aware of this, and it may explain his omission in Bet Avi of neighbors’ names, including those of boyhood friends. Perhaps he consigned them to anonymity because the mention of any one person might have offended those not named. Or, perhaps if he had done otherwise, relating to Mes’ah as it was, he could not have painted its picture as he did: naïve, but pretty and wholesome. The myth of Wild Galilee with his father cast in the role of tough, stern, dauntless sheriff, a myth he constructed by carefully selecting certain fragments and ignoring others—was the foundation of his worldview and the source of his pride. When he was to come into contact with youth of the Zionist movement, including those steeped in Labor traditions and proudly brandishing Labor’s banner, the only asset he could offer in return was his father’s house, rooted in the land, a rock of its rocks, an oak of its oaks. Against slick and worldly city youth, he held out the authenticity and simplicity of a country boy, the aristocracy of the land.