28/6/99

A Jewish woman's Moslem warriors

    Naima Tefilin's life should be made into a movie. Hollywood thinks so, but the problem is -- who'd believe the story? 
    A psychiatric nurse living in the brooding, crime-ridden desert town of Ofakim, Naima dedicated her life to resurrecting the sorry dregs of society -- the druggies and whores, the forlorn aged, the dead-end youth. They originated from conditions she was familiar with: she, too, had experienced the dirt-poor subsistence in a ma'abara (transit camp) during Austerity, but she was now comfortably ensconced in a fine villa. Yet, she was vulnerable nonetheless: her own family was scythed again and again by the Angel of Death. There was tragedy and triumph: her husband pulled back from the precipice, her four-year-old daughter was ravaged with brain cancer, Naima herself was stricken with breast cancer -- all at around the same time. All of them survived, but others in the extended family did not.
    Quite a story. But that's merely the prelude.
    Here, the plot shifts to far-off Iran. Fanaticism reigns and war ensues. Many Iranians have fled across the border and joined arch-enemy Iraq in the fight to free their homeland. The war plays itself out, and instead of showering these mujahedin with accolades, Saddam Hussein orders them to join another war, against the Kurds.
    The Iranians refuse, and thousands are jailed -- all but a few who manage to flee (again) and make their way to ... Israel.
    The mujahedin cross the border into what they faithfully believe is a compassionate country, and they're greeted with a hail of bullets. One of them is killed. The rest are captured and detained. Israel doesn't know what to do with 13 Moslem warriors pleading for sanctuary, so it does nothing. They fester in a Beersheba jail.
    One day, they think they must be dreaming: a well-dressed, good-looking society lady (Naima) arrives out of nowhere -- speaking their language and promising she will win their freedom. She does.
    And then, she insists they all move into her home, which they do for seven months,  until finally they're awarded asylum, and they live happily ever after.
    Well!
    The end of the movie? No; it's only intermission.

NAIMA TEFILIN is 57, and made aliya in '57.  In that time she has built up a remarkable CV of social-welfare involvement, and has won a hatful of awards and certificates.
    Her work earned her respect and cooperation from the police, the courts, institutions and bureaucracies. So when she heard of the plight of the mujahedin and took action, all doors were open to her.
    "I identified with them, they were countrymen, but they viewed me with fear and suspicion, thinking I was a spy. I smiled, and said I'm just a regular citizen, Iranian, I live nearby, I like to help people. They didn't believe I was for real. They said people had come from the UN, the Red Cross, Iranian organizations, and they couldn't get us out. Then the prison guards told them, 'if anyone can, she can.'
    "I won them over. They started calling me 'Mama,' and hugged and kissed me."
    She worked the system beautifully, and won almost unlimited access. She brought them clothes, books, toiletries, food; her friends pitched in, and then strangers too. "These men hadn't tasted Iranian food for years, and now they were sitting in an Israeli prison and feasting. Dozens of people came to see them, with gifts. One lady came by bus with a pot of food -- all the way from Ramat Hasharon!"
    Naima worked tirelessly and eventually won their outright release.
    "That's when the court told me there were two more Iranians in Ramle prison, so I got involved there too, the same thing. And then those two said, 'Listen, there's two more in the same situation, but they're from Sudan.' So I included them too. They were so sweet. They said, 'but we're black, we're from Sudan, why would you want to help us?'"
    Naima now had 15 Moslem men on her hands.
    "We had a huge party at our house -- a party that lasted seven months. They moved in with us, all of them, we were like a big family. They cooked, cleaned, ironed, did the laundry, repairs, everything.
    "We were given $5,000 by the UN for sheltering refugees. But the whole thing must have cost me $30,000. We had phone bills of 8,000 shekels!"
    She contacted all their families. "One of them told me that I was wrong, their son was dead. The Iranian government had shown them a body and said it was him. Immediately, I put their son on the phone. He said, 'Dad, it's me, I'm alive!' His father fainted.
    "Sadly, we got phone calls from all over the world, from Iranians, asking if perhaps their sons were among ours. I was speaking with a woman and one of my mujahedin overheard, grabbed the phone and shouted, 'Yes I know him, I saw him, he's alive.'"
    Asylum was found for them in Europe and Canada, they all got citizenship, many married and became fathers.
    Word spread. She got a plea for help from an Iranian citizen imprisoned for eight years here -- this one happened to be a Jew. "This guy was a multi-millionaire who refused his wife a divorce. She wanted $50,000 and he stubbornly refused. I must've spent $10,000 on this one, I got him out, his wife got the 50,000, he left the country -- and he didn't even thank me. He left me with all the debts."
    In 1994, an Arab prisoner told her there were 30 Iraqi asylum-seekers in another prison. She went through the whole process yet again, and won their freedom. "They came to my house, but no, they didn't move in."
    They had spent five years behind bars; 11 of them have settled in Israel.
    According to Naima, there are still 10 incarcerated refugees here, seven Iraqis and three Iranians. She's working on their cases as well. "Every Friday they call and wish me Shabbat Shalom."
    "There's another Iranian imprisoned since 1992, but that's a special case, a terrible case, he's schizophrenic. Sometimes he thinks he's an Iranian spy, sometimes an Iraqi spy. I'm in contact, but I can't help him."
    Another Iranian has been here since before the Islamic revolution. After failing for 26 years to get citizenship he got in touch with Naima. "I made a few calls. Now he's Israeli, he got married, he has a daughter."
    In September 1995, the Eilat police called. "How do you say 'hijack' in Farsi?" they wanted to know. Naima was involved again.
    An Iranian, seeking to publicize what was happening in his country, commandeered a plane with 180 passengers. As they were running out of fuel, they were given permission to land at Uvda in Eilat.
    The hijacker, Ali Reiza Jabari, was eventually transfered to Beersheba, and Naima was summoned to translate for the court. "We became very close. He's highly intelligent, works in the prison, learns Hebrew. He's been to my home three times."
    Then there was the weird story of Haim Rad. A trip to Turkey turned into a horrible nightmare for the young Israeli, when he was drugged and kidnapped by Iranian agents, brought to Iran and accused of being a spy. He was eventually freed, came back home -- and was promptly arrested here, suspected of spying on Israel for Iran. "He was going to get 30 years. He was just a boy, frightened of his own shadow. His brother called and asked me to help." Rad was freed.
    Throughout her bizarre career as guardian angel for Moslem refugees, Naima had the presence of mind to videotape everything. It is this footage that has piqued interest for a documentary film titled ג€œMujahedin.ג€
    She has a letter of intent from film distributors in California, but she needs a further $60,000 to fund the project.
    Completing the film is one of two passions consuming Naima nowadays. The other, is winning freedom for yet another group of Iranian political prisoners: but they are in Iran, and they are Jews.
    "I've helped everyone else, now I have to do something for my own people. I have good contacts there, even in the government. The Iranians know what I've done for Moslems.
    "It's very difficult because factional fanatics are involved. But every child in the world knows these 13 Jews are not spies."
    That they are people in need of help is motivation enough for her. That they are Jews, in mortal danger, drives Naima to devote her waking hours to the cause. But there is a startling coincidence that gnaws at her depths: it so happens that two of the captives are named Tefilin.