It was difficult on Tuesday morning not to recall an earlier chapter in the complex biography of former Prime Minister Ehud Olmert; when he was still a young parliamentarian in the 1970s and considered one of the spearheads in the fight against exposing organized crime in Israel – the existence of which was denied at the time by the political and judicial establishments and the police leadership.



In one of his best-known exploits Olmert − who on Tuesday morning received a six-year jail sentence – held a prison meeting with Micha (Pepe) Rockenstein, one of the country’s most famous crime lords. Olmert was equipped with recording devices and documented the meeting.



At the time, Olmert was a diligent collector of information about clandestine ties between generals and politicians, on the one hand, and wealthy, well-dressed businessmen who were suspected of laundering money accumulated through crime, on the other.



“One of the phenomena I pointed out is the criminals’ desire to buy status,” Olmert said in his testimony before the Shimron committee, established in 1978 to investigate whether there was a mafia in Israel. “The desire to build legitimate businesses for themselves with money from illegal businesses, such as extortion.



"They want social status, which they think will prevent suspicion from falling on them.. One very innovative way they have of doing that is by posing as generous businessmen, being very active in charitable foundations, making donations to hospitals, making their hospitals available for soldiers on vacation."



Criminals and police were his sources. The visit to Rockenstein was designed to expose a scandal in the upper echelon: ostensible criminal ties between MK Rehavam Ze’evi and those suspected of heading the local crime world.



Powerful and well-connected people were in his sights: the generals Ze'evi and Abrasha Tamir, minister Avraham Ofer, businessmen and intelligence targets like Bezalel Mizrachi, gang leaders Rahamim Aharoni and Tuvia Oshri and also senior police officers, headed by the Commissioner Haim Tavori.



His struggle with Ze'evi was the most persistent of them all. He didn't hesitate to say in public that Ze'evi was collaborating with the Israeli mafia. Ze'evi demanded a public apology and warned to "heat up" the army against him. When Olmert refused to back down, Ze'evi sued him for libel.



It was difficult not to think about that early part of Olmert's complicated biography and to wonder how the bitter enemy of Ze'evi and Bezalel Mizrachi became, over the course of years, the good and influential friend of their protégés David Appel and Reuven Gavrieli.



How did the man who, in the good old days, used to check his car every morning to make sure it wasn’t booby-trapped, became the first prime minister convicted in two different trials of criminal offenses, and sent to serve a prolonged prison sentence, after it was determined that he received bribes?



It was hard not to think about the fickleness of time upon hearing the judge’s words regarding the “betrayal” of the public by the recipients of the bribes and the serious and lethal nature of the offense. In his verdict he described the offence as "despicable… spreading and nibbling away at public institutions until they collapse."



Olmert’s hopeful beginning gave no hint of the sad ending. About two weeks ago, and in the shadow of the serious indictment, Olmert attended the funeral of the late attorney Yigal Arnon. Government officials and wealthy businessmen mingled in the cemetery with top attorneys − and Olmert was received with demonstrative warmth and love. The elite is still on Olmert’s side.



"If a voting booth had been there, 90 percent of them would have voted for Olmert as prime minister," said attorney Ram Caspi.



On the other hand, in the courthouse plaza on Tuesday morning, entirely different voices were heard. Quite a number of passersby gathered alongside two fences, many of them shouting catcalls at the lawyers who entered one after the other.



But the truth is that there was no reason to celebrate or bare bloodthirsty teeth. The conviction of the Holyland gang is a dark day: Judge David Rozen spoke about the merits of the accused and their contribution to society, prior to sentencing them and sending them to serve heavy prison sentences.



Every one of them could have been considered a good and admirable person to this day, had state witness Shmuel Dechner not torn away the masks from their faces.



Each of them has impressive chapters in his life story, which were stained when hunger for power, greed and, above all, a sense of immunity from harm conferred by their social status, blurred their judgment.



We're reminded of that statement by Olmert at the Shimron committee about how social legitimacy serves as a protective layer for white collar criminals, keeping the law and justice at bay. The stars of Holyland belong to a thin social stratum, with which investigators, attorneys and judges usually prefer not to tangle.