It was Ernst Yefet, the then general manager and all-
powerful ruler of the Bank Leumi group, who in 1978 sent
Shlomo Grofman to the subsidiary company, Africa Israel.
Few people realise, though, that Grofman's assignment was
to give that withered limb a decent burial. Africa's
business activity at the time was sparse and
unsuccessful; and the Migdal Binyan company (as it was
then called), was also insignificant, and a long way away
from the leading position it was later to attain. As to
any other business, the construction industry was
undergoing a slump, and tourism in those years was very
far from reaching the proportions to which we have
recently become accustomed.
Grofman examined the position of Africa, and returned
to Yefet with a recommendation: maybe it was premature to
administer the company its last rites, maybe it would be
worth trying to revive it and actualise the potential he,
Grofman, had spotted. Yefet allowed himself to be
persuaded, and gave Grofman the go-ahead. The rest, as
they say, is history. Grofman did not err in his
favourable assessment; but never, in his wildest dreams,
did he imagine just how far he could lead Africa
Israel.
Ten years later, the company had become a highly
diversified group, the Migdal insurance company was
prospering, tourism business was expanding, and real
estate operations, including residential and industrial
construction and the management of industrial and
commercial properties, were constantly developing, even
though the real estate sector was undergoing a slump
more prolonged and acute that that of the seventies.
But it was the economic boom of the nineties, set in
motion by the massive immigration wave, that floated
Africa up into a higher league. Grofman and his immediate
managerial retinue positioned the group in the right
places at the right times; and both they and the group
prospered hugely. But just then, in the very flush of his
success, Grofman's position started getting shaky. He
discovered in himself an impressive flair for manoeuvre
and a rare talent for survival. But finally, after the
Brodet committee and the political volte-face had done
their work, he manoeuvred himself into a position from
which there was only one way out - through the exit
door.
In theory, it was surely not strictly necessary that
so successful a career should end on such a sad, bitter
note. In practise, however, it was Grofman himself who
struck the final dismal chord. The success of the group
under his management had for many years clearly been
going to his head. Like many another in his situation,
he convinced himself that all this success was his
brainchild, and that everybody in his milieu ought to
recognise the fact.
He joined the circle of "fat cats" that orbited around
Shimon Peres and the late Yitzhak Rabin; and his
admittance to those exalted circles reinforced this
feeling and its unfortunate outcome. Grofman, having
clawed his way to the top, forgot where he started out
from.
That was not all. Grofman also failed to grasp that a
certain basic element in the international business world
had changed and was beginning to filter through to the
Israeli economy. Companies, even conglomerates, belong to
their shareholders; and the general manager - even if an
unalloyed genius - is merely a paid employee. Grofman's
view of the world was shaped in the Yefet era, when
owners were merely a nuisance, and a good general manager
could manoeuvre to his heart's content. Grofman failed to
adapt to the new reality. Another dinosaur is laid to
rest.