Beneath Efrat, the Truth Flows: I Walked the Aqueduct That Supplied Yerushalayim Until 1967—and It Shut Every Liar’s Mouth
You want to know who this land belongs to?
Come walk where I walked.
Not in a hotel lobby. Not on a Tel Aviv boardwalk. Underground. Through living Jewish history. Through a 2,000-year-old aqueduct that carried the waters of our ancestors from the hills of Judea to the heart of Yerushalayim.
I didn’t read about it in a book. I didn’t hear it in a speech. I walked it. I stood in the freezing spring water. I ducked through stone tunnels carved by the calloused hands of Jews who lived and died for this land. And I emerged gasping for air—not from the physical exertion, but from the soul-shattering realization of what I had just touched:
Truth.
Undeniable. In your face. Eternal. Jewish truth.
Herod’s Hydraulics. Jerusalem’s Lifeline.
This isn’t a pipe dream or a myth. This is the Biyar Aqueduct—Amat HaBiyar. It was constructed during the Second Temple period by Jews. By us. By my people. It channeled spring water from what is now Efrat and Gush Etzion to Solomon’s Pools and then directly into Yerushalayim. To the mikva’ot. To the Temple Mount. To the homes of kohanim and prophets and kings.
Do you understand what that means?
The very earth beneath my boots screamed with the memory of Jewish sovereignty. Jewish engineering. Jewish civilization. In this land. Long before any empire ever even imagined a Palestine.
And the kicker? It didn’t stop in the year 70.
It didn’t stop under the Byzantines.
Or the Muslims.
Or the Crusaders.
Or the Ottomans.
It didn’t stop even when the British Mandate came in with their white papers and quotas and betrayal.
It kept going.
This Jewish aqueduct supplied water to Jerusalem until 1967.
Let me say that again for every smug ignoramus, every UN functionary, every keffiyeh-wrapped student council parasite, and every blue-check Twitter historian:
A water system built by Jews for Jerusalem ran until the Six Day War.
We didn’t occupy this land.
We built it.
We dug it.
We bled into it.
We prayed over it.
And we never left it.
I Waded Through Our Past—And It Changed Me
This isn’t some tour. This is a baptism in Jewish fire.
You climb down into the aqueduct by ladder—modern metal meets ancient rock—and your flashlight beam dances over chisel marks made 2,000 years ago. Your feet splash through living water. That’s right: it still flows. It still breathes. The aqueduct is alive, even if half the world pretends our history is dead.
I turned off my light halfway through. Total darkness. All I could hear was the water and my heartbeat. And I swear—I felt the presence of generations. The ones who built it. The ones who maintained it. The ones who died trying to keep it. I felt like I was walking shoulder to shoulder with ghosts who refused to fade.
Because we don’t fade.
We return.
This Land Didn’t Forget Us. How Dare They Pretend We Forgot It?
To every fool who tells me we “colonized” Judea:
I just walked through a 2,000-year-old Jewish water tunnel under Efrat.
You want to talk about who’s indigenous here?
To every foreign journalist parroting Hamas press releases from a Tel Aviv hotel:
Your entire narrative drowned in the mud beneath my shoes.
To every clueless Western government calling to divide this land:
Come here. Crawl through this tunnel.
And then look me in the eye and tell me this isn’t ours.
Because this isn’t just stone.
It’s not just water.
It’s proof. Of a nation. Of a people. Of a promise.
Bring Your Kids. Bring Your Rage. Bring Your Pride.
If you live in Israel, if you visit Gush Etzion, and you don’t go see this—you’re missing a piece of your soul. This is not a relic. It’s not dead. It’s a living artery from the heart of our people to the capital of our eternity.
This aqueduct didn’t just carry water.
It carried identity.
It carried faith.
It carried truth—the kind that smashes propaganda and makes liars choke.
We are not settlers.
We are returnees.
We are not visitors.
We are home.
And the land beneath our feet agrees.
Subscribe to this Substack if you’ve had enough of lies, cowardice, and historical amnesia—and want to be reminded, week after week, that the Jewish people are the rightful heirs of this land. Not because we say so.
Because the stones say so.
Because the tunnels say so.
Because the water still flows.
And so do we.