Chava Ben-David’s childhood in Queens was unique in some ways, as she was raised by her single father in a neighborhood far from her yeshivah. Determined to give her a Jewish education, her father Zelig drove her to school; but on one occasion, his car was being repaired and I volunteered to pick up Chava.
Theirs was a thoroughly kosher home, and in the manner of Chabad shluchim, they identified the few Jews among their neighbors and invited them for Shabbos meals. Zelig also instilled in Chava a love for the Land of Israel that was so strong that three years ago, at age 18, she made aliyah on her own, recently marrying and settling in the yishuv of Tapuach, deep in the Shomron.
This week, Chava, 21, and her husband Yitzchak Yosef, 24, were in Brooklyn visiting her grandmother. They were staying in her high-rise apartment with views of Coney Island’s amusement district, as distant a scene as one can imagine from the rocky slopes of the Samarian highlands.
“It was three years ago, and I had no plan to come back,” she said. “I stayed with family friends and then an apartment in Tzfas, working, making the aliyah official, and learning Hebrew. My goal was to work with the land.”
She accepted the opportunity to herd sheep at a farm near Itamar, a religious settlement in the Shomron, where she learned the economic, political, and historic aspects of shepherding. “I herded sheep, went on patrols, watched the kids, and helped sheep give birth. This connected me with Eretz Yisrael. It’s the same work as Avraham, Yitzchak, Rivkah, the Sh’vatim. The word for a sheep, keves, is the same as likhvosh, to occupy. It prevents Arabs from taking the land. Shepherding in every direction for up to an hour.”
As sheep require sizable expanses of land, wherever they graze, the farm could take possession. Palestinian Arabs also have their sheep and olive orchards, fulfilling the same mission of livelihood and claim to land. While the number of households is limited in Tapuach, farms have the ability to expand the borders of the yishuv.
Itamar and Tapuach have been in the news for terrorist acts in which residents were attacked by local Palestinian youths, yet the residents feel strongly that these highland communities are their home, not to be compromised on account of crime or political pressure.
“We feel very secure there. Every yishuv has a group of soldiers and residents with gun licenses,” Chava’s husband Yosef Yitzchak Ben-David said. “Most of the people protecting the Shomron live in the Shomron. It’s a mixture of residents, reservists, and soldiers.”
Yitzchak wears a crocheted kippah with long pei’os, the defining look of the hilltop youth, the term describing activists building outposts without permits. “It’s for defense, to prevent a terrorist attack. Jewish strength in the area is the hilltop youth,” he said. Explaining their vigilantism in building outposts and raiding Palestinian villages, he said that their actions result from a sense of frustration in the government not pursuing terrorists as quickly as they would like.
“The army takes a year to destroy a terrorist’s home. They’re fed up waiting for the army and in the meantime the terrorists do their work,” Yosef Yitzchak said. “They show the entire town that they’re not afraid. They show their presence.”
When asked about “price tag” incidents in which Palestinian children were killed, Chava added that “their goal isn’t to kill for the sake of killing. They attack the town according to Dinei Milchamah,” laws of war prescribed in religious texts.
Yitzchak’s path towards observance was shaped by events in Israel that combined nationalism with a spiritual foundation. “He was born in a Chabad family but then left. He always loved the land but got into trouble a lot,” Chava said. This secular nationalism is evident in his tattoos, some of which he recently removed using a laser procedure.
After being mistaken for an Arab by a police officer, Yitzchak thought about his Zionism and concluded that the only justification for his living in Israel is the Torah. “That’s what brought him back to Torah and mitzvos. He found his Torah through the love of the land,” Chava said.
They were introduced to each other by her father Zelig, and they married five months ago in Chevron. In time for their wedding, Zelig also made aliyah, initially settling in Efrat and then nearby Bat Ayin. They used the opportunity to change each other’s names. Chava Krymko’s maiden last name has its roots in Ukraine and Russia; Yosef Yitzchak was De Bresser, a Dutch last name, adding that he is also partially Yemenite. “New name, new start,” she said. “I’m a Ben-David. It’s a very classic Jewish name.”
The name brought to mind the late Laura Ben-David, a photographer who made aliyah from Florida to the yishuv of Neve Daniel. In 2007, she wrote the book Moving Up: An Aliyah Journal about her experience. I also thought of Calev Ben-David, originally of the Five Towns, who lives in Yerushalayim. This veteran journalist worked as an editor at The Jerusalem Post and anchored a show on i24 News. He was my supervisor when I had a journalism internship in Yerushalayim during my college years. None of these individuals are related to each other, but they each chose the same last name after becoming Israelis.
Like her father, Chava immersed herself in Hebrew, choosing to live among native speakers and quickly mastering the language. While her husband learns in yeshivah, she attends university in Ariel, where she studies architecture. She considers the profession to have the same purpose as shepherding. “Now even more so, it adds to the beauty of the land. We build a lot of models.”
She shared a photo with her husband standing at the Gaza border, looking across the sand berm, dreaming of Jews rebuilding Gush Katif. At the same time, she hasn’t completely given up on livestock herding.
“We want to connect American Jewish youths to the farms. Working on the farms, I’ve seen young adults my age who reached out to me to experience this life. They didn’t know that it’s something they could do.”
Another photo shared by the couple shows them sitting at a gate to the neighboring Arab village. “They have other entrances that they can use. This one is too close to our yishuv, and it endangers Jews.”
A photo of the Oz Tzion outpost, which is not supported by mainstream pro-Israel charities, as its structures were not approved by the government. It is located near Ramallah and Beit El, off Route 60. Yitzchak Yosef spoke proudly of his support for this outpost. “We’re raising money for tractors. The hilltop youth will build roads and clear the space.”
I asked how they felt about the incessant negative news coverage, international condemnation, and increasing sense of isolation as the Gaza war continues. “It’s one of the signs of Mashiach being on his way. I feel safe in the Land of Israel,” Chava said. “Anywhere we live we are hated. I’m more scared living on someone else’s land.”
By Sergey Kadinsky
