Children playing outside the Peres Center for Peace, Tel Aviv, Israel / Courtesy of the Peres Center: Yohan Zerdoun

 2003

ELI BROAD

Philanthropist

pERES CENTER FOR PEACE

During World War I, Russian soldiers ransacked my mother’s childhood home in Lithuania. Along with her parents and six siblings, she was bound and gagged, and she watched as the soldiers stole their possessions. The next day, my mother and her family abandoned everything they had ever known. They moved to America, minus one sibling. That sibling, my uncle Joseph, was an intense, studious man. He stayed in Europe so he could study philosophy, religion, and history in Berlin. Eventually, as that city grew increasingly hostile to Jewish people, Uncle Joseph left for Palestine.

I met my uncle only twice—at the New York World’s Fairs in 1939 and 1964. A lot changed between our two meetings. During that time, my uncle helped found a grade school, the Ben Shemen Youth Village in Israel, where he taught generations of students. Meanwhile, I had founded my first business and moved my young family to Los Angeles. While the distance between our lives was vast, I learned from my uncle—the importance of civic duty, faith, family, and education. My uncle never married and had no children of his own; his students were his children, and he cared for them deeply.

Years after Uncle Joseph died, I discovered he had taught a particularly notable young pupil: Shimon Peres. The late Israeli leader was not only a committed public servant who twice served as prime minister, but also a lifelong advocate of peace. He won the Nobel Peace Prize for his role in negotiating the Oslo Accords, which established self-government for Palestinians.

Sadly, peace did not last long after Oslo. But the hope for it lives on in Peres’s legacy. He founded the Peres Center for Peace in Tel Aviv, right by the banks of the Mediterranean Sea. It’s a beautiful, welcoming place with a critical mission: to bring Israelis and Palestinians together. The center provides peace education, medical training, and sustainability workshops. Jewish and Muslim people together play soccer, plant trees, and make art.

Edye and I couldn’t be prouder of supporting the Peres Center through our foundation. We think of it as a gift to the family we lost in concentration camps, the family we cherish today—whether here in Los Angeles or in Israel—and the family that will continue to grow and thrive long after we are gone. Most of all, it’s a gift in honor of my Uncle Joseph, one of the kindest and most dedicated teachers I’ve ever known. This world is a better place because of him and other teachers like him who freely share their intellect, passion, and conviction.