A Portrait of a Myth

What do former President Ephraim Katzir, former President Reuven “Ruvi” Rivlin, author A.B. Yehoshua, poet Yaakov Orland, journalist Ayala Hasson, General Uzi Narkiss, Justice Miriam Naor, and Lehi commander Avraham (Yair) Stern have in common? They are all graduates of the same legendary institution – the Rehavia Gymnasium in Jerusalem, known in Hebrew as Gymnasia Rehavia. The institution, founded over a hundred years ago, has long been considered not just a quality school, but also a melting pot of the Israeli elite and a focal point where key figures of the state were shaped in the fields of security, law, the humanities, and media.

A school born in controversy

The story of the Gymnasium begins in 1909, during the days of the Second Aliyah. Among its founders were key figures such as Yitzhak Ben-Zvi (1884–1963) and his wife Rachel Yanait 1886–1979). The Gymnasium was the first Hebrew high school in Jerusalem, and at the opening of its first academic year, only seven students were enrolled. During that same year, additional students joined. Four of the first students were the children of the founders, alongside Ehud Ben-Yehuda (1897-1982), son of Eliezer Ben-Yehuda (1858–1922), the pioneer of the Modern Hebrew language.

The founding of the school was met with fierce opposition from members of the Old Yishuv, who objected to the fact that the new institution had boys and girls studying together in the same classroom – and in the holy tongue no less. Opponents published pashkevilim (public denunciation posters) and even threw stones at students on their way to school. At the same time, the competing schools Ezra and Alliance feared the educational competition and tried to persuade parents not to send their children to study at the institution of the “Russian socialists.” Despite the difficulties and the need to move between different buildings, the number of students grew rapidly, from 20 in the Gymnasium’s first year to over 100 just two years later.

In 1919, the Rehavia Gymnasium moved to its permanent building in the Rehavia neighborhood, designed by architect Fritz Kornberg (1890-1944), which still stands today on Keren Kayemet LeIsrael Street – right next door to us at Beit Avi Chai. The school’s location in the heart of the neighborhood, home to the Jerusalem elite and public figures, granted the institution special prestige. The Gymnasium became a symbol of educational excellence, and its students were considered to belong to the most distinguished families in the city, absorbing a rooted Zionist education grounded in values.

An inseparable part of the school’s character was its close connection to the scouting movement. In 1937, the “Masada Troop” was established at the Gymnasium – the first scout troop in Jerusalem. The institution’s administration believed that educating young people did not end at noon, but had to encompass all hours of the day. The troop’s cabin, which stood in the school courtyard, served for decades as a meeting point and center of activity for students, until the move to permanent facilities in the Valley of the Cross.

Myth, mischief, and national struggle

Alongside the rigorous studies, the Gymnasium’s walls also bear witness to mischievous pranks that have become part of its mythology. In an article published by Nir Hasson in Haaretz in 2009, covering the alumni reunion marking the Gymnasium’s 100th anniversary, he described how Reuven Rivlin spoke fondly of the “potato room”, which served as a winter storage room but was nicknamed by students “the love room.” Another alumnus, founder of the “Moledet” party Rehavam Ze’evi (1926–2001), was known for his creative methods of preparing water bags to throw at passersby, stamped with the seal of “the Demon Club” – a subversive student organization he ran.

The institution’s security-and-military aura found expression in Hebrew literature as well, in the novel “The Gavriel Tirosh Affair” by Yitzhak Shalev (1919-1992), who had been both a student and a teacher at the Gymnasium. The book describes a history teacher who forms a trained military unit from among his students, in order to carry out guerrilla operations against Arab rioters during the Mandate period. Shalev drew the characters from his personal acquaintance with the Gymnasium’s principals and teachers, further cementing the institution’s standing as a place where academia and the national struggle were intertwined.

Fallen graduates

Out of that same deep national commitment, the Gymnasium suffered many losses throughout the years of the Zionist struggle. The memorial wall at the school commemorates the many fallen graduates, including exemplary figures such as fighters from the Convoy of 35 (or the Lamed Heh, which stands for “thirty five” in Hebrew numerals) – Haganah and Palmach fighters killed in January 1948 during the War of Independence – and Yonatan (“Yoni”) Netanyahu – the eldest son of the Israeli professor Benzion Netanyahu and brother of future Israeli prime minister Benjamin Netanyahu. Yoni Netanyahu was a legendary military officer and commander of the elite commando unit Sayeret Matkal. He was killed in action in 1976, at the age of 30, while leading Operation Entebbe, a daring hostage-rescue mission in Uganda.

Since October 7, additional graduates have been added to the memorial wall – young people murdered in the attack itself and in the long war that followed. The Gymnasium also played an active role in defending Jerusalem: during the 1929 riots, the building served as a shelter for neighborhood residents, and during the War of Independence, the Haganah used its offices.

A photograph frozen in time

In the early 1970s, the Gymnasium was among the first to implement the integration method, part of the education reform of the late 1960s, and began accepting students from more disadvantaged neighborhoods in the city. This move led to intense ethnic and social tensions, which came to a head in 1984 following offensive remarks made by a senior teacher. The legendary principal of the Gymnasium, Shmuel Michaeli (1926-2005), led the change with determination and introduced innovative programs, including the study-unit method, which became a model for other schools in the country.

During that period, as part of her project of documenting Jerusalem, Aliza Auerbach photographed the Rehavia Gymnasium in 1973. The seemingly simple photograph perfectlycaptures the duality of a school that is both myth and active educational institution. The depth of field renders the photograph sharp almost throughout, allowing its layers to be seen clearly: the motorcycles in the foreground, the cars, the students sitting on the steps, and finally the sign reading “The Hebrew Gymnasium” on the building itself. The eye moves from the street to the building, and the entrance is not presented as a monument, but as part of everyday life. The steps, which over the years became one of the site’s most recognizable symbols, are absorbed into the routine of students sitting on them. It is precisely this everydayness that gives the photograph a timeless dimension. It’s easy to imagine students sitting in the same spot today, even if the motorcycles in the foreground have been replaced by electric bikes. The lighting creates a gradual transition from the shadow in the foreground to the illuminated façade of the building, adding visual depth to the photograph.

This article was originally published in Hebrew.

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Main Photo: Rehavia Gymnasium, Jerusalem 1973, by Aliza Auerbach