“He rang the day before, at around nine in the evening, and we made the arrangement.”
“Did he tell you anything about his intentions?”
“No. We didn’t talk about anything like that.”
“Where did you separate when you arrived at the cave?”
“We went into the Hall of Abraham together. It was the eve of Purim and there were around ten people there. I did not see him leave.”
“What occurred then?”
“About ten minutes later I heard a burst of rifle fire, then another. I realized immediately that the shooting was coming from the Hall of Itzhak. I ran there but there were security people at the entrance and they were not letting anybody in.”
“Did you run there together with your son?”
“Yes. They did not let us through.”
“What did you do after that?”
“My son and I left the hall and went to the car park, but everything was already cordoned off. We stood at the cordon and waited for it to be removed so we could leave.”
“What happened in the square? What did you see?”
“They were carrying out the dead. There were a great many. Many wounded were taken to ambulances.”
“Did you see anybody you knew in the crowd?”
“What do you mean? There were only Arabs there and our soldiers. Today is Ramadan for the Arabs and a lot of people had come to the Hall of Itzhak. There was nobody there I knew.”
“Fine. You are to go now with the officer for identification.”
“What identification?”
“Identification of the body of Baruch Goldstein.”
25 February 1994, Hebron
F
ROM THE RECORD OF THE INTERROGATION OF
B
INYOMIN
S
HIMES
“Did you travel to Makhpelah with Baruch Goldstein in your father’s car?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know him well?”
“Of course. He is a doctor and he often came to see us. Sometimes when we were ill, sometimes just to visit. My parents were friends with him.”
“At what time did you leave home?”
“About five in the morning.”
“Can’t you remember more precisely?”
“No. I wasn’t even fully awake. My father said to go and I washed quickly.”
“Who, apart from you, was in the car?”
“My father and Baruch.”
“It didn’t surprise you that Baruch was wearing military uniform and had an assault rifle?”
“I didn’t notice it.”
“What were you talking about on the way there?”
“I wasn’t listening to them. Like, my father would pick him up on the way back.”
“You can’t remember more precisely? Where exactly? When?”
“Like, Baruch was going to go off somewhere on some business and then intended to come back to the Hall of Abraham. Something like that.”
“Did he say that in the car?”
“I think so.”
“So, you arrived at the cave together and went inside together?”
“Yes.”
“Did Baruch say anything else about his intentions?”
“No. He talked about something with my father, but I was not listening. Nothing about intentions.”
“Where did you separate when you got to the cave?”
“We went into the Hall of Abraham together. I did not see him go out.”
“What happened next?”
“A short time afterwards, I heard a round of rifle fire, then another. I knew immediately that it was from the Hall of Itzhak. My father and I ran there, but everything was already sealed off. Then we went outside to the car park. They wouldn’t let us go anywhere. An incredible number of soldiers arrived and about a thousand Arabs came running. From where we were standing we could see the dead being brought out. A huge amount of blood, and a great many wounded people.”
“Did you see anybody you knew in the crowd?”
“No.”
“Do you know that Baruch Goldstein went into the Hall of Itzhak and shot a great many people there?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know that he was killed on the spot, in the Hall of Itzhak?”
“Yes.”
“You will now have to go and identify the body of Baruch Goldstein.”
3. March 1994, Kfar Shaul
P
SYCHIATRIC HOSPITAL
FROM A CONVERSATION BETWEEN DEBORAH SHIMES AND DOCTOR
FREIDIN
“We have talked to him, Deborah. He is very unwilling to communicate, and without a desire to communicate on his part, it will be difficult to help him out of this condition. I would like you to tell us about his behavior after all that happened.”
“I have already been questioned.”
“I’m not interested in your political views or the degree to which your husband was involved in what occurred. Why are you looking at me like that? I try to cure illnesses, not political views. From what moment did Binyomin’s behavior strike you as abnormal?”
“Well, I don’t know what should be considered normal or abnormal. When an adolescent boy is taken to identify the mutilated corpse of someone he saw almost every day, can that be regarded as normal? What right did they have to take him there? At the time he wasn’t even sixteen.”
“I would have objected myself if I had been asked, but I wasn’t. So now we need to get the boy back on his feet. As I understand it, he was deeply shocked by that identification?”
“Yes, he was out of his mind. He went up to his room and did not want to see anybody. Not even his younger sister.”
“Did that last for long, his unwillingness to communicate with anyone at all?”
“Long? It is still continuing! He does not want to talk either to me or to his father. He did not come down to dinner, even on Saturday. I took him food and drink to his room and did not once see him eat. When he became so thin that the skin on his face was stretched, I realized he was throwing the food down the toilet.”
“Did his father try to talk to him?”
“At first he did try, one time he yelled at him, but then ceased all attempts to communicate. One time he suggested going to Baruch’s grave. He was buried in Kiriyat Arba, in the Kahane Memorial Park, but Binyomin flatly refused.”
“How does he get on with you?”
“He wouldn’t reply to me either. He turned to the wall. He lay almost all the time facing the wall.”
“Why did you not call a doctor to see him?”
“We simply didn’t have the time. His father considered he was too impressionable and that it was something that would pass. I have seven children and each child has its problems. At precisely this time two younger ones were ill, and then my elder daughter was found to have gastritis. I was constantly taking one or the other to hospital.”
“All this time Binyomin was not going to school?”
“No. He refused, and we did not insist. We thought it was better for him to miss a year than to exercise that much force.”
“Did he express any suicidal intentions?”
“What intentions? He didn’t talk to us at all.”
“Did he talk to anybody? His brothers or friends?”
“He did not want to come out of the room when his friends came to visit.”
“What happened on the day he tried to slit his veins?”
“I left home at seven in the morning and took the youngest to the kindergarten, the others to school, and then went shopping for food. When I came back, water was pouring through the ceiling. Our shower cabin is on the first floor and he had emptied the whole boiler. I rushed upstairs, he was sitting in the shower cabin with his veins slit, but there was not much blood. He was almost unconscious. More in shock, I would say, than having fainted. I picked him up. He made no attempt to resist. I immediately called the ambulance. That is all. But now I would like to take him home if I may.”
“No, in his present state he needs further treatment.”
“Will it take long?”
“I think at least six weeks, possibly more. Until we are sure his life is no longer in danger, we cannot discharge him.”