Saying farewell to the late David Levy, a trailblazer of his time - opinion

At the beginning of the week, the State of Israel took its leave of one of its greatest leaders in recent years, the trailblazing minister David Levy, who passed away at the age of 86.

Levy’s is a classic Cinderella story. He arrived in Israel as a destitute 19-year-old new immigrant from Rabat in Morocco to the small town of Beit She’an and became a construction worker who rose to the position of deputy prime minister. The first Mizrachi minister, Levy became a leader in the Likud leader and was just a step away from becoming prime minister.

As part of a routine of reading biographies of public figures that I have adopted for myself, I had just finished Levy’s biography a week earlier. The reading was fascinating. I eagerly devoured the life story of our mythical foreign minister who was representative of the “second class,” ignored Israelis.

In an interview for Aryeh Avneri’s biography of the, written almost 40 years ago, Levy says: “I realized that getting frustrated and losing my temper at the unemployment office was not the way. It was a path leading to prison, to poverty, and to a dead-end. I knew I had to find the path that would lead me to positions of influence where things could get done and changed made from the roots up.”

These are powerful, fascinating words that cannot be ignored. In the same interview,  Levy added: “I didn’t aspire to a political career yet. I was a 19-year-old kid. But intuitively, I understood that the right way was to learn the rules of the social game, and my heart was rewarded with a decision – no more.”

As a child in late-1990s Nahariya, I remember a meeting at which I had the privilege of not only seeing with my own eyes but also shaking hands with David Levy, whom I so loved and admired.

One evening, Levy came to visit the home of the mayor of Nahariya, Jackie Sabag. Rumors that the minister of foreign affairs of the State of Israel was in Nahariya spread like wildfire, and within a short time there was a commotion of residents in the parking lot of the mayor’s home.

Waiting to meet Levy 

My friends and I waited outside patiently for three hours to meet Levy. How great was our excitement when he shook our hands and gave us the warm hug of a true leader! Over the years, I had other opportunities to meet Levy, but I will never forget that first time in the mayor of Nahariya’s parking lot.

Upon learning of Levy’s passing, Sam Ben-Chétrit, the president of the World Federation of Moroccan Jewry sent a letter of condolence to Levy’s widow, Rachel, and to his family members. In the letter, Ben-Chétrit described how Levy, in his role as housing minister, appealed the decision of Israel’s Committee of Ministers not to recognize as having lost their lives for the homeland 44 refugees escaping from Morocco on the ship Egoz – who drowned in the Straits of Gibraltar on January 10, 1961. Thanks to Levy’s appeal, the government headed by the late Menachem Begin awarded them that belated recognition.

In recent years, I made several (unfortunately unsuccessful) attempts, through family members, to meet with Levy and hear his story from his own mouth.

Therefore, I am left solely with his biography and the memories of the little boy in Nahariya with so much admiration for the social justice fighter who became a legend in his own lifetime.

The writer is the spokesman for the World Federation of Moroccan Jewry.