The Burnt House and Horrific Ruins

When I was ten, I came on a family trip to Israel for the first time. My family did a lot of tourist things: we went to Ein Gedi, the Kotel, the beach, and Ben Yehuda. While touring the Old City of Jerusalem we also visited the Burnt House, which is the ruins of a house destroyed in 70 CE, when the Romans sacked Jerusalem. The ruins were similar to a lot of others that we had seen, so being a curious child I wandered around reading the various signs, which contained a lot of semi-interesting information about the site. This continued until I saw something that stopped me in my tracks.

On one of the signs, there was a picture of a single arm, the only human remains discovered in the structure. The sign indicated that this was the arm of a young girl, possibly a resident of the house. In my mind I pictured the girl, running from the fire and trying to climb up the stairs, grabbing for the handrail while the fire engulfed her. I wouldn't say it stir my imagination as much as it just plain terrified me, and for years after I would have nightmares. 20 years later it still freaks me out.

As a result of that one picture, I relate to the Burnt House in a completely different way than I do any other ruins I have visited. While I can study other ruins with a detached bemusement, it is much, much harder to think of the Burnt House as anything except a place of horror.














This is an important thing to acknowledge in our study of ruins. There are a great many causes of ruins, ranging from benign neglect and peaceful abandonment, to natural disasters such as earthquakes or tsunamis, to man-made disasters and war. But as years pass, the potency of a ruin dies down and it becomes a peaceful place. Even if we know fully well the story behind the ruin, and even it many people died, there is still a calm about them. However, sometimes a single image is enough to prevent this from happening, to keep the wound fresh and breed horror. Like an episode of Unsolved Mysteries, designed to send chills up your spine, certain things keep some specific ruins from resting in peace.

When I consider the various ruins of Rosh Ha'ayin, there is nothing that particularly raises the shackles of fear in me, though dozens of wars have been fought and countless people have died in and around Rosh Ha'ayin over its 7,000 years of habitation. There are ruins of Aphek, Antipatris, and the British pumping station, ruins of Migdal Zedek, Mirabel, Majdal Yaba, ruins of the British army base, of Amidar houses, of buildings that have burnt to the ground, been demolished, or collapsed, but they all seem peaceful to me. I wonder whether others view them differently, just as I will never see the Burnt House as a mere tourist attraction. In particular, I wonder about former inhabitants of Majdal Yaba, still within living memory, and the nearly-invisible ruins of that village. I wonder about the British buildings that formed the skeleton of Rosh Ha'ayin and immigrants whose children went to the hospital and were never seen again. I wonder what it is that makes a site horrific. These are sites that will, almost certainly, universally rest in peace as serene ruins or redeveloped sites in the future. For now, I wonder if there are any who still think of them in horror.

Ras el Ein Train Station

The history of the railroad in Palestine has been chronicled in several books, such as Paul Cotterell's The Railways of Palestine and Israel and a chapter in Gad Gilbar's Ottoman Palestine, 1800-1914. Proposals for railroad development date back to the 1830s, but the first line was only completed in 1892 - the French-built Jaffa-Jerusalem line.

The Ottomans, who controlled Palestine until the middle of World War I, do not seem to have made a priority of the Palestine Railway, but during the war some lines were extended for strategic purposes. The man behind these railways was a German, Heinrich August Meissner (1862-1940). Among the many kilometers of track for which he is responsible, I am mostly convinced that he built the first railroad line by Ras el Ain, a narrow-gauge line, roughly around 1915. Shortly thereafter, the British captured this territory, and the Egyptian Expeditionary Force began switching the track to Standard Gauge. They seem to have reached Ras el Ain at some point in 1918. The British renamed the system the Palestine Railways, which remained its name until 1948, when Israel was founded and renamed it the Israel Railways.

Map from Gad Gilbar's Book

The Ras el Ain station originally existed on a line between Lod and Tulkarem, with stops at Kfar Yunnis and Qalqiliyah on either side. The modern Rosh Ha'ayin station, which is north of the original one, is located on the Hod Hasharon-Rishon Letzion line.

Migdal Zedek Quarry, 1936

1921 Map. Red Lines may indicate RR lines

1925 Map by Abraham Brauer. Ras el Ain shown with Station

1929 Map of Majdal Yaba. Station clearly shown

Map of Ottoman Railroads

It is unclear if there was originally a train station at Ras el Ein. It seems that there has been a station at Ras el Ein since the track was originally laid, in 1915. At first I thought that it was likely that originally there was no stop at that location, and that the British only later added a stop when they built the pumping station in the 1930s. However, the 1929 map of Majdal Yaba certainly shows a stop, as does the 1925 map. The 1921 map, whose red lines I think denote the railroad, does not underline Antipatris, but since there is no key it is hard to take this as concrete proof that there was no stop. There is a spur that runs west from the Ras el Ain station toward Petach Tikva, so I then thought that the Ras el Ain station was originally built to allow trains to run off the main line to Petach Tikva. But in letters regarding the construction of the Petach Tikva line in 1920 the Ras el Ein station was said to already exist. Presumably, the station was built in 1915 for the Ottoman  war effort, as Ottoman troops were stationed in the fortress at Antipatris. The station influenced the location of the army base, built first in 1937. We also know that the quarries used the Ras el Ein station to transport their stone. As such, the train station is a crucial part of the history of Rosh Ha'ayin.

Today a new station has been built to the north of Rosh Ha'ayin. The old station still stands and looks fairly modern, but it is no longer in use. It is beginning to show some wear, such as broken windows and graffiti. When we visited, an alarm was going off. 

Ras el Ein Station. (David Ra'if, from Hagana Archive)

Ras el Ein Station. (David Ra'if, from Hagana Archive)

Modern Day Rosh Ha'ayin South Station, No Longer in Use

Migdal Zedek's Inactive Quarries

The area of Rosh Ha'ayin is full of stone quarries, with a few remaining active to this day. These quarries provided much of the stone used in the construction of Tel Aviv and the center of the country. The stone is mostly soft chalk. The quarries are both north and south of the Migdal Zedek archaeological site and the former site of Majdal Yaba.

The quarries began in 1924, when Solel Boneh decided to build one in the area. The first 11 workers were mostly from the Third Aliya and mostly from Poland, known as the "Teitelbaum Group". They built wooden shacks and transported stone on rails to the main railway line. They were paid 35 grush per day. The workers hoped to establish a permanent workers' colony in the area, but after a year abandoned this dream. In 1925 "The 23", a group of about 50 olim connected the the HeChalutz movement, came to work in the quarry. They built additional structures and made it into more of a real settlement. Things progressed until competition made the business unprofitable and in 1928 this second group also abandoned the quarry. Only in 1931 did a group return. In 1932 a second Jewish quarry opened on land purchased from Majdal Yaba. At this time a 32 meter-tall quicklime furnace was built. The furnace was somewhat of a symbol, and appeared in drawings on the cover of the book HaEmda HaKidmit: Migdal Zedek Ba'avoda, baShmira, baMilchama by Mordechai Reicher and on the cover of the newsletter of Migdal Zedek guards.

Cover of newsletter published by Migdal Zedek Guards

Another version of the cover, showing Majdal Yaba in background

Quicklime Kiln

Destroyed Kiln. Photo from Mordechai Reicher's book, p44

At first the quarrymen had a good relationship with the Arab neighbors. In 1936 things became more tense and competing businesses resulted in price wars. There was considerable pressure to use "Hebrew Labor" and a number of attempts were made to expel the Arabs from the company. In 1936 one of the factories was destroyed and the furnace was toppled, so in November 1936 the site was rebuilt and guarded by the Hagana. This also caused Migdal Zedek to become more of a permanent settlement and less of a temporary camp. It also became somewhat of a training camp for the Hagana. Both Migdal Zedek and Majdal Yaba continued to grow until 1948, when the war began and Majdal Yaba was abandoned.

Over the years Migdal Zedek has been underdeveloped as a recreation site, and the quarries are even less developed. In 1978 Gavriel Gafni published a report on the subject of abandoned quarries for the Israel Nature and Parks Authority, who were anxious to utilize this open area. This was park of a national survey of abandoned quarries, but special attention was paid to Migdal Zedek because of its large area and proximity to the central metropolis. Ultimately two proposals were given, which noted that in Israel quarries are not reclaimed as is common in other countries. In the proposals, one suggestion is to locate heavy industries in the quarries, where they would be hidden from site. Another states that the parks can be turned into parks.

Dr. Avi Sasson produced an archaeological survey of Migdal Zedek in 2008, with the goal of turning it into a national park. A separate post will be devoted to the history of the archaeological site of Migdal Zedek, but Sasson writes that Migdal Zedek is one of the few sites in Israel where one can trace the development of the quicklime production. In the 1930s there was a modern quicklime furnace in the area, and some ruins of the concrete structure can still be found on site.

Quarries are certainly man-made, but not really structures. As such, it's hard to consider them ruins. However, it's still interesting to think about them as abandoned features which can undergo a variety of transformative processes and turned into something new. On the one hand, they can be left as they are. New uses can be built in their shadows. Or they can be landscaped and "erased." The blog Stories in Stones has an interesting entry about reuse of quarries, particularly for rock climbing enthusiasts. Other quarries have been flooded to provide swimming, snorkeling or even a marina. Still others now have zip lines (omegas) and mountain biking. As with ruins, I would imagine that leaving the quarries intact makes for a more memorable experience and a richer site.

Overall map of quarries, taken from Gafni

Gafni's Option A

Gafni's Option B

Migdal Tzedek Ruins at Sunset

Originally built as the Mirabel Castle by a wealthy Crusader family in the 12th century, the Migdal Tzedek ruins have been occupied by many since then. This is due to its geographical location on a hilltop overlooking the 'Aphek Pass', the only passage north-south between the swamps and sea on the West and the hills of Judea and Samaria on the East. After the Crusaders, the Ottomans and then the Arabs, most recently the village of Majdal Yaba, were located in and around the current ruins of Migdal Tzedek.

restoration line visible

partially restored