A Shabbat Story: How a Dream and a Tzaddik Helped Save the Holy Land

“Why haven’t you visited my grave?” asked the dignified man in a dream. The question startled Rabbi Yitzchak Alfaya, a well-known kabbalist in Jerusalem and author of the holy pamphlet HaYechieli, which deals with deep spiritual rectifications (tikkunim).

“Who are you,” asked Rabbi Yitzchak in the dream, “that I should know where your grave is?” The man replied with a radiant face, “I am Rabbi Yaakov Abuchatzeira. I am buried in Damanhur, Egypt.”

It was the end of World War II. General Rommel and the German army were pushing toward Eretz Yisrael (the Land of Israel), and fear gripped the Jewish community. Rabbi Yitzchak Alfaya was doing everything he could to stop the harsh ruling. He traveled with a group of Jerusalem’s holy kabbalists, praying intensely at sacred places like the Kotel (Western Wall), Kever Rachel (Rachel’s Tomb), and the grave of the Ohr HaChaim, Rabbi Chaim ben Attar. Their prayers followed the deep secrets of Kabbalah, all in the hope of saving the Jewish people from destruction.

And then came the dream and the message from Rabbi Yaakov Abuchatzeira.

The very next morning, Rabbi Yitzchak rushed to the study hall and asked the scholars there what they knew about this Rabbi Yaakov. Everyone who had studied his writings, especially the teachings of the Abir Yaakov, spoke of his greatness. Rabbi Yaakov Abuchatzeira was a saintly man, a tzaddik known for holiness beyond words.

Without wasting time, Rabbi Yitzchak went straight to the High Commissioner’s office and requested an urgent meeting. At first, his request was dismissed. The aides laughed at him, thinking it strange. But Rabbi Yitzchak stood his ground. He would not leave until he was heard. Eventually, his determination reached the Commissioner himself, who agreed to meet with him.

Rabbi Yitzchak explained that he had access to a “heavenly weapon,” a spiritual force that could help win the battle. He asked for help getting to Alexandria, Egypt, from where he would travel to Damanhur, the resting place of Rabbi Yaakov Abuchatzeira.

The Commissioner listened seriously. “Only military trains are going to Egypt during the war,” he said. “I’m willing to add you to one of these trains but your safety is your responsibility.”

Rabbi Yitzchak began to prepare for the dangerous journey. He was told that military trains left only once a month and sometimes only once every two months. Still, he got ready to go. His fellow Torah scholars begged him not to go. It was too dangerous. But Rabbi Yitzchak, filled with faith in the tzaddik and in Hashem, refused to back down. He was prepared to risk his life to protect the people of Zion.

Each morning he went to the train station to see if there was a train to Egypt. In a miracle that stunned even him, a train was scheduled to leave the very next day. He packed his bag, boarded the train, and sat nervously.

Two military officers approached him and asked where he was headed. “To Damanhur,” he answered. The officers didn’t argue or question him. They simply sat down next to him. They stayed with him until the end of the journey. And then, just as suddenly, they disappeared.

The Jewish community in Alexandria was shocked to see a Jerusalem rabbi arrive during wartime, alone and undeterred. When he shared his story, they were deeply moved. Immediately, they gathered large amounts of food and traveled with Rabbi Yitzchak to the grave of Rabbi Yaakov Abuchatzeira in Damanhur.

There, they poured out their hearts in tearful prayer. They observed two ta’anit dibbur, fasts of silence, which are a special kind of spiritual focus. Seven covenant-makers (people especially dedicated to holiness) surrounded the grave. They blew the shofar according to specific Kabbalistic instructions given by Rabbi Yitzchak. These were not ordinary prayers. They were filled with deep spiritual intention and total devotion.

On the third night, something remarkable happened. One of the men stepped outside and saw people in the city celebrating. There were lights and music. He asked what had happened.

The answer: the German forces had suffered a crushing defeat. They were retreating and would never return.