As Israel recalls the 1985 covert mission that rescued 8,000 Ethiopians from war and famine, the community extols its achievements, but racism still abounds
By Zev Stub Follow
26 May 2025, 6:47 pm
Ethiopian priests, or kesim, stand with their umbrellas at the state memorial ceremony for Ethiopian Jews, May 26, 2025 (Zev Stub/Times of Israel)
Thousands of Ethiopian Israelis traveled to Mount Herzl in Jerusalem on Monday to remember those who fell in 1984-85’s Operation Moses, the first covert evacuation of Ethiopian Jews to Israel.
Marking 40 years since the operation, which brought some 8,000 members of the “Beta Israel” community from a country ravaged by famine and war over a seven-week period, many arrived with their families dressed in traditional colorful clothing, holding umbrellas to shield themselves from the scorching sun.
Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and President Isaac Herzog were among the leaders who spoke at the annual ceremony, held on Jerusalem Day to acknowledge Beta Israel’s age-old yearning to return to the Holy City.
“Generations of Ethiopian Jews prayed and swore to return to Zion, to Jerusalem,” Herzog said. “They did not forget or lose hope during thousands of years of exile, hardship, longing and yearning. And when the opportunity came, they left their homes, their possessions, sometimes even parts of their families, and set out on a difficult and dangerous journey that took a painful and heavy toll.”
A memorial torch burns at the state memorial ceremony for Ethiopian Jews who perished traveling to Israel, May 26, 2025 (Noga Malsa/GPO)
“The code word for thousands of Jews who left their cities and villages was one word that said it all: Jerusalem,” Netanyahu said in his address. “This is a victory of faith, hope, and willpower. This is the victory of love for Jerusalem.”
Famine and instability forced Ethiopia’s Jews to leave the country in the early 1980s, and many walked hundreds of miles on foot to Sudan, where they lived in refugee camps under dire conditions. An estimated 4,000 died along the way or in the camps from starvation, disease, or violence.
Attendees bow their heads at the State memorial ceremony for Ethiopian Jews who perished traveling to Israel, May 26, 2025 (Noga Malsa/GPO)
Amos, a resident of Netanya attending the ceremony, was 18 at the time of the operation. “My family traveled through the desert on foot with a large group,” he recalled. “We encountered robbers on the way who beat us and took our possessions. We suffered terrible abuse along the way, and the challenges were severe.”
Because Sudan did not have diplomatic relations with Israel, the operation was planned covertly and involved collaboration between the Israeli government, the US, the CIA, and various Jewish organizations, with many Sudanese authorities bribed to turn a blind eye.
Between November 21, 1984, and January 5, 1985, more than 30 covert flights transported 8,000 Jews, about 200 at a time, to Israel via Brussels, before the operation had to be canceled after the news was leaked to the press. Around 1,000 to 2,000 Ethiopian Jews were left behind, many of whom would later be rescued in subsequent operations Operation Joshua (March 1985) and Operation Solomon (1991), in which over 14,000 people were rescued in 36 hours.
New Ethiopian immigrants boarding an aircraft en route from Addis Ababa to Israel during Operation Solomon, 1991. (Natan Alpert/GPO)
Thousands more have been brought to Israel during the past decade, mainly from Ethiopia’s Falash Mura community, whose Jewish origins are considered a bit murkier than those of the Beta Israel.
Yasu, a resident of Herzliya attending the ceremony, was one of the lucky few who left Ethiopia before the war. “I left in 1981 to study in England, and came to Israel as a tourist,” he recalled. “There was a small community of Ethiopians who had arrived here in the 1970s from the Tigray region in northern Ethiopia, and they helped develop the trail that others followed into Sudan. We had it much easier than those who came later.”
Yasu spoke proudly of the development of the Ethiopian community in Israel over the last 40 years. “It’s amazing. We are talking about people who came from a village far away with no education, and now we have high positions as academics, engineers, and soldiers. Children are achieving high grades in schools and going on to work in high-tech. It’s a miracle.”
Ethiopian priests, or Kesim, pose for a photo at the State memorial ceremony for Ethiopian Jews who perished traveling to Israel, May 26, 2025 (Zev Stub/Times of Israel)
Unfortunately, Yasu’s enthusiasm reflects only part of the story. Many of the estimated 170,000 Ethiopians in Israel face significant economic and cultural barriers, with only a small portion living the lives that Yasu described. Many Ethiopians complain of racial discrimination, with unequal opportunities for housing, employment and education. Ethiopians are arrested for crimes at a rate that is twice their representation in Israeli society, according to a 2022 report by the Association of Ethiopian Jews.
“There is always racism against us,” Yasu said. “Maybe it has declined a bit, but overall, nothing has really changed.”
Attendees stand at the state memorial ceremony for Ethiopian Jews who perished traveling] to Israel, May 26, 2025 (Zev Stub/Times of Israel)
Most of the attendees at Monday’s ceremony were of Ethiopian descent, although there were many non-Ethiopian Israelis and tourists on hand for the experience.
“Being here in honor of these people, who have gone through so much to get here, is incredibly moving,” said Judy Freedman Kadish, a visitor from New York. “This is especially important for us, coming from the US, when so many people are accusing us of colonialism, telling us to go back to Europe, as a reminder that this is the eternal homeland for all the Jewish people.”
Twenty-four-year-old Ezra from Ashkelon arrived at Monday’s ceremony dressed in festive clothing and wearing a blue-and-white tallit. “I’m studying to be a kes, an Ethiopian priest,” he said. “It’s not a position you need formal training for, like being a rabbi,” he explained. “It’s a position of community leadership. Every kes has a group of families he’s responsible for, whether it’s officiating at life-cycle events, advising them on family matters, or mediating conflicts. We are responsible for looking after the community’s welfare.”
Two Ethiopian men, both studying to be ‘kesim,’ or religious priests, at the state memorial ceremony for Ethiopian Jews who perished traveling to Israel, May 26, 2025 (Zev Stub/Times of Israel)
There is no shortage of needs within the community. Eli, who was brought to Israel on Operation Moses at age 16, speaks with a tone heavy from the weight and trauma of a long and difficult journey.
“We walked for days without food or water,” he recalled. “But with God’s help, we have arrived here in Israel, and we are constantly progressing as a community. We have a lot to be grateful for.”