This afternoon, (Monday), Haim Bar On was laid to rest in the Kiryat Shaul cemetery. Young and old they came, closely or distantly connected, from the business and intellectual walks of life, from the right and the left, the military and the peace movement, from the defence establishment, from political circles and from the press, which he started to revolutionise out of a small room on Hayarkon Street, when he founded the "Monitin" magazine.
"Good, wise Haim hasn't died, he has faded away physically", eulogised David Kulitz. "It is so hard to mourn a man who was so easy to love. The man who, with his unclear diction, was so clear. Who was so great-hearted".
The hundreds of lifetime friends he had made came to follow his bier. With family and children. There were familiar and unfamiliar faces. Amnon Lipkin-Shahak, Ehud Barak, Dan Meridor, Ronny Milo, Amiram Sivan, Shlomo Piotrkowsky, Aryeh Mintkevitz, Yossi Peled, Yaakov Perry, Dahlia Rabin-Pilosoff, Avi Tiomkin, Arnon Mozes, Yaakov Nimrodi, Amos Shocken, Dan Shilon, Uri Porat, Adam Baruch, Eilon Shalev, Moshe Vardi. There were lawyers and newspaper editors, partners and rivals, press and telecommunications.
"You created no enemies! Opponents, yes, rivals - yes. That tycoon you became remained just plain Haim", Kulitz said, "in jeans and a tee-shirt. Not as a pose, we will not bombard you with images. Behind that rumpled appearance was an intelligence with common sense, firmness with generosity, awareness of the justice of the cause with a resolute but forgiving spirit. Reuven Adler tells us that when you turned fifty, you were very much afraid people were going to hold a surprise party for you. It wasn't the surprise that bothered you, but the injury to those mistakenly not invited.
"You were a proud son, husband and father, and one who invested. You were the only son of Gita, whom you cared for and loved. Edna you treated like a fragile creature. Edna combines your qualities together with innocence. You were proud of Alona, quietly sending us pieces she had written, so that we could rejoice with you. For the sake of handsome young Amir you made the effort to live a little longer, for him to have a little more father. As for us, you led us to understand that we would be parting from you, and you made your way down the long road quietly".
"Hundreds of those who worked with him, some who had come and gone, some who didn't even work with him directly but only saw him in the corridors, putting newspapers to bed, all came flocking, years after they had left. There were some he had quietly supported, expecting nothing in return, in his 54 years of life. Who gave them a little leeway, and sent them to make the most of it".
"You were a people collector. You picked me up in the late 'sixties. I was a correspondent for "Davar", and you were working with Yigal Alon. Had you lived in another religion, you could have been a priest", said Nahum Barnea, eulogising Bar On. "Why did we love you so much? Because outward appearances meant nothing to you, because you dressed to please yourself, and made friends with whoever you liked.
"Your mother, Gita, reminded me yesterday that when someone was due to arrive, evidently Henry Kissinger, you came to take a jacket but forgot to take shoes. She sent me to look for shoes and bring them to you. I couldn't find any. We loved you for your loyalty. Your dream was to work with Yigal Alon. You went to work with him only because you believed in him, you remained faithful to him after he passed away, to his family and his memory.
"You were a good man, a decent man in a profession in which decency was no longer a word of praise. You succeeded, you were a great business owner, and you also created new norms. You launched businesses, but money, of and by itself, did not interest you.
"We loved him for his character. A man of vision. That could be seen in his two dreadful years of illness. On February 26, 1996 you went to hospital and learned you had contracted cancer. That was a very bad week for us both. I know the saying 'rest comes to the weary', but that is cold comfort. Goodbye, Haim".
Published by Israel's Business Arena February 16, 1998