The Exiles

"And so, in July 1918, a modest but memorable ceremony took place. On the afternoon of the 24th the foundation stones of the Hebrew University were laid on Mount Scopus . . . The declining sun flooded the hills of Judea and Moab with golden light, and it seemed to me, too, that the transfigured heights were watching ... dimly aware, perhaps, that this was the beginning of the return of their own people after many days. Below us lay Jerusalem, gleaming like a jewel . . ."

Since that day, which Chaim Weizmann recorded in his memoirs, Mount Scopus has been transfigured more than once by the people of Israel. Over the years, 17 grey concrete buildings have gone up. There are streamlined laboratories, the greatest library in the Near East, schools of law, agriculture, humanities and Oriental studies. The only trouble is, the Hebrew University can use none of these buildings. Since 1948, the road to Mount Scopus has been under the control of

Jordan's troops, and neither students nor teachers are permitted to pass.

Today, except for a handful of Israeli guards, the bastion-like buildings of Mount Scopus stand empty. But below in Jerusalem, the life of the university goes on. Professors hold classes in rented storerooms and hallways. Scientists carry on their research in makeshift laboratories converted out of bathrooms. Students squeeze into the back rooms of 30 different buildings, scattered over the length & breadth of the city.

This week, as its new year began, the university was out to raise some $20 million, for, in spite of its desperate exile, it intends to keep right on expanding. This year it will have the largest enrollment (3,000 students) in its history, and it has recently opened a full-fledged medical school. Its goal for 1954: 4,000 students --with or without the silent grey bastions of Mount Scopus.

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