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    Judaism

    The Forgotten Exodus

    The multi-award-winning, chart-topping Jewish podcast, The Forgotten Exodus, is back for season two.

    The world has overlooked an important episode in modern history: the 800,000 Jews who left or were driven from their homes in the Middle East and North Africa in the mid-20th century to forge new lives for themselves and future generations.

    The Forgotten Exodus, a limited podcast series by American Jewish Committee (AJC), explores the important lessons we can learn from this pivotal moment and the little-known Jewish heritage of the Middle East and North Africa. As Jews around the world confront rising antisemitism, hear five new stories of Mizrahi and Sephardi courage, perseverance, and resilience from this transformative and tumultuous period of history for the Jewish people. The world has ignored them. We will not.

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    Iran Oct 02, 2024
    Show notes

    "I never thought there's antisemitism. It's something from the past, for my grandparents, for my mom a little, but it's not something in my generation, or my kids' generation. It's done . . . apparently, not." Einat Admony is a chef, cookbook author, comedian, and social media star who grew up in Bnei Brak, Israel. With parents from Iran and Yemen, Einat spent her childhood in the kitchens of Mizrahi, Sephardi, and Ashkenazi neighbors. Learn about her family's deep-rooted Jewish heritage in Iran and the broader Middle East. Along with her mother Ziona's journey from Iran to Israel in 1948, Einat discusses the antisemitism she's dealt with online and on the streets in the past year. Hear her stories of Jewish-Muslim coexistence in Iran and memories of spices and perfumes that inspire Einat's dishes. Her cookbooks Balaboosta and Shuk, along with her Manhattan restaurant Balaboosta, reflect a blend of tradition and innovation. "You could not have Judaism today, if it were not for the Jews of Iran," says Houman Sarshar, an independent scholar and director of publications at the Center for Iranian Jewish Oral History in Los Angeles. Sarshar highlights the historical relationship between Iran and Israel, noting that Iran was the second Muslim-majority country to recognize Israel post-1948. The conversation also touches on the challenges faced by Jews in Iran, their cultural integration, and the impact of the 1979 Islamic Revolution. —- Show notes: How much do you know about Jewish history in the Middle East? Take our quiz. Sign up to receive podcast updates. Learn more about the series. Song credits: Pond5: "Desert Caravans": Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Beta (BMI), Composer: Tiemur Zarobov (BMI), IPI#1098108837 "Suspense Middle East" Publisher: Victor Romanov, Composer: Victor Romanov; Item ID: 196056047 ___ Episode Transcript: EINAT ADMONY: I've been in Israel a few months ago. It's like you always feel loved, you always feel supported. It's still home. It's always going to be my home. MANYA BRACHEAR PASHMAN: The world has overlooked an important episode in modern history: the 800,000 Jews who left or were driven from their homes in the Middle East and North Africa in the mid-20th century. Welcome to the second season of The Forgotten Exodus, brought to you by American Jewish Committee. This series explores that pivotal moment in history and the little-known Jewish heritage of Iran and Arab nations. As Jews around the world confront violent antisemitism and Israelis face daily attacks by terrorists on multiple fronts, our second season explores how Jews have lived throughout the region for generations despite hardship, hostility, and hatred, then sought safety and new possibilities in their ancestral homeland. I'm your host, Manya Brachear Pashman. Join us as we explore untold family histories and personal stories of courage, perseverance, and resilience from this transformative and tumultuous period of history for the Jewish people and the Middle East. The world has ignored these voices. We will not. This is The Forgotten Exodus. Today's episode: Leaving Iran. MANYA: Whether she's deviling eggs soaked in beet juice, simmering Oxtail in shawarma spices, or sprinkling za'atar on pastry dough, chef Einat Admony is honoring her family's Middle Eastern heritage. Both the places where they have lived for generations, as well as the place they have and will always call home: Israel. EINAT/Clip: Start with brushing the puff pastry with olive oil and za'atar. Have some feta all around and shredded mozzarella. Take the other sheet and just cut it to one inch strips. Now we're going to twist. Need to be careful. Now we're just gonna brush the top with the mix of oil and za'atar. Get it some shiny and glazy. This is ready for the oven. Bake at 400 until it's golden. That's it super easy, just sprinkle some za'atar and eat. MANYA: For the chef, author, reality TV star, and comedian, food reflects the Zionist roots that have been a constant for Einat, the self-made balaboosta, who is largely credited with introducing Israeli cuisine to the U.S. That love for Israel goes back generations, long before the modern state existed, when her maternal ancestors lived in the land, that until 1935 was known as Persia, but is now known as Iran. Her own mother Ziona, the third of seven siblings, was even named for the destination where Einat's grandparents aspired to one day raise their family. Returning home to the land of Zion from which Jews had been exiled centuries earlier was always the goal. When you ask her why, Einat laughs in disbelief. EINAT: Why? Why? That's homeland. I think a lot of Jewish people for hundreds of years was, that's in every prayer, it's in every Shabbat dinner evening. MANYA: The hatred directed toward Israel by Iran's regime in the form of the deadly attacks on Israel by Iran-backed terrorist groups and the Islamic Republic of Iran itself make it hard to believe that Iran was once a place where Jews and the Zionist movement thrived. But in fact, Iran's history includes periods when the wide-open roads between Iran and Israel ran two ways and the countries not only lived in harmony but worked in close partnership. Iran was the second Muslim-majority country after Turkey to recognize the modern state of Israel after its formation in 1948, and the two established diplomatic ties. Regular flights ran between Tehran's Mehrabad International Airport and Tel Aviv's Ben Gurion airport. SARSHAR: We cannot overlook the fact that since October 29, 539 BCE the Jewish community of Iran remains to this day the largest community of Jews anywhere in the Middle East outside the state of Israel. To this day. You could not have Judaism today, if it were not for the Jews of Iran. MANYA: Houman Sarshar is an independent scholar and director of publications at the Center for Iranian Jewish Oral History in Los Angeles. He has edited a number of books, including Esther's Children: A Portrait of Iranian Jews. SARSHAR: The history of the Jews in Iran begins about 2,700 years ago, when the first community of known Jews was taken to Iran. They are commonly believed to be one of the 10 Lost Tribes. And then when we fast forward to when Nebuchadnezzar came and destroyed the temple in Jerusalem and took Jews into captivity. Some years after that at 539 BCE on October 29, 539 BCE, to be exact, Cyrus the Great, the founder of the Achaemenid dynasty, liberated Babylon and gave Jews the permission to go back to Israel and rebuild the Second Temple. MANYA: Cyrus the Great – a Persian emperor particularly renowned among contemporary scholars for the respect he showed toward peoples' customs and religions in the lands that he conquered. According to the Book of Ezra in the Hebrew Bible, Cyrus even paid for the restoration of the Jewish temple in Jerusalem. SARSHAR: This is known as the Second Temple period in Jewish history, and under the Achaemenid dynasty, Jews participated in every level of society. And a few centuries forward, around the 5th Century, we know the Jews continue to live with many freedoms, because that is the era when the Babylonian Talmud was originally produced in Iran by Rav Ashi. So, you know, there was a thriving rabbanut (rabbanite) in Iran who had the freedom and the luxury and the time to be able to produce such an important document as the Talmud, which has become the cornerstone of all jurisprudence that we know, Western law, and everything. MANYA: The advent and arrival of Islam in Iran in the 7th Century CE changed circumstances somewhat. As was the case across the Middle East, all non-Muslims became dhimmis – residents who paid a special tax and lived under certain restrictions. The situation for Jews worsened in the 16th Century when the Safavid dynasty made the Shiite creed the dominant form of Islam in Iran. Fatwas made life for all non-Shiites quite difficult. SARSHAR: And for reasons that are still open to discussion, all of these restrictions were most vehemently imposed on the Jews of Iran. And because of these restrictions, all non-Shiites were considered religiously impure. And this religious impurity, kind of like the concept of the untouchable sect in India, they were considered pollutive. MANYA: Jews could not look Muslims in the eye. They were placed in ghettos called mahaleh where they could not leave on rainy days for fear the water that splattered on them could contaminate the water supply. They wore yellow stars and special shoes to distinguish them from the rest of the population. They were not allowed to purchase property from Muslims or build homes with walls that were higher than those of their Muslim neighbors. SARSHAR: They could not, for example, participate in the trade of edible goods because, you know, fruits and vegetables and meats carried this pollution. So Muslims could no longer consume the foods that were touched by Jews. And as a result, this created a certain path forward in history for the Jews of Iran. They went into antique trades. They went into carpet trades. They went into work of textiles. They became musicians. And for the following 500 years, these restrictions kind of guided the way the Jews of Iran lived in that country, even though they had been there for thousands of years previously. MANYA: Houman said the 1895 arrival of the Alliance Israélite Universelle, a Paris-based network of schools for Jewish children throughout the Middle East and North Africa, including within the mahalehs in Persia, was the first step in a series of improvements for Jews there. SARSHAR: Previous to that, Jews were not allowed to get any kind of an education whatsoever. The only teachers were the Muslim clergy, and they refused to teach anything to Jewish students. So this allowed for the Jewish community to finally start to get a Western-style education, which was very important at that time, given all of the dynamics that were going on in society with modernity. MANYA: As educational opportunities increased in the middle of the 19th Century, so did opportunities for the courtiers and elite to travel and see the Western world as it industrialized and modernized, expanding international trade and sharing wealth more widely. SARSHAR: Often they would be sent by their families to go and try to see if they can, you know, find a way to expand the family's businesses and lives as merchants, and they would come back shocked. I mean, Iran was a place where you know of mostly mud brick homes and dirt roads and people riding around on donkeys. And imagine this is all you've known. You never see women walking around the street. The only women you have ever seen with your own eyes in your life are your mom, your sister, your daughter or your wife, and occasionally, sex workers. And that's it. So all of a sudden, you know, you travel a couple of months by boat and train, and you get to Paris, and it's impossible to try to even conceive of the experience. It must have been something like the Hegelian experience of the sublime. What can the world look like? And where is it that I live in, and why isn't my country the same as this? MANYA: By the early 20th Century, the Persian people concluded the answer to that question was in the rule of law. The reason the European nations provided such opportunity for the community at-large had to do with the fact that the law of the land was not arbitrary or enforced by religion or royalty. It was embedded in a constitution – a set of laws that define the structure of a government and the rights of its citizens – a Western tenet that reduced the power of the clergy and created a parliament called the Majles. SARSHAR: They were starting to read travel journals. They were starting to understand the perspective that Westerners had on Iranians, and those perspectives were often awful. You know, the Western world believed, for example –the country was corrupt to the bone in every respect. So all of these things gradually led to a call for a constitution, the major pivot of which was the establishment of a legislature of law that would start to create a community where everyone can feel like they're equal in the eyes of the law and have something to gain by trying to improve the country as a whole. Iran became the first constitutional monarchy in the Middle East in 1906 when that revolution happened, it was a momentous event. And really, things really, really did, in fact, start to change. MANYA: In 1925, Reza Shah Pahlavi – an arch nationalist who wanted to propel Iran forward into the industrial age – took over the crown of Iran. He welcomed any Iranian citizen to participate in that agenda. SARSHAR: By now, we had a good two generations of Jews who had been French-educated by the Allianz Society. They had all gone to France at some point in their lives, so they were able to participate in this industrialization of the country, given the language skills that they had and some of the connections they had built in the Western world. MANYA: Both World Wars in Europe took a massive toll on Iran. Despite declaring neutrality, Iran was occupied by European nations that took over the nation's agriculture, treating Iran as a pantry to feed the armies. Droughts and disease worsened the toll. SARSHAR: One of the lesser-known factoids about history is that during World War I, the nation that lost the most individuals as a result of the war was Iran. Above and beyond all European nations who were at war, because of a famine that had started in Iran. The same dynamic started to happen in World War II. MANYA: With nationalist fever sweeping Europe and Iran, the Allies feared the arch-nationalist Shah would go the way of Franco in Spain, Mussolini in Italy, and Hitler in Germany. They also feared the Shah would collaborate with Hitler's Germany to provide oil for the German oil machine and cease being the pantry the Allies needed it to be. In 1941, the Western powers convinced him to abdicate the throne to his son Shah Mohammad Reza Pahlavi. And when the war ended, Iran was able to enjoy the same economic benefits as the rest of the world at peace time. Most importantly, it was able to profit from its own oil reserves, significantly boosting Iran's national income. SARSHAR: In 1941, it was really the beginning of what is commonly referred to by the scholars of Jewish Iranian history as the Golden Age of Iranian Jewry. From 1941 until the revolution in 1978, the Jewish community of Iran saw a meteoric rise to power and social wealth. Industries such as pharmaceuticals, banking, insurance, real estate development, and other major industries, the aluminum plastics industries in Iran, all were either directly owned by the Jews of Iran or managed under their management. And during this period, really, we can say that for the first time, after 2,500 years, the Jews of Iran really started to experience the kinds of freedoms that they had not seen since the Achaemenid dynasty. And it is during this time that, you know, we see, really, that life started to change for the Jews of Iran, even though some of the age-old social dynamics were still there. The institutionalized antisemitism had not been completely wiped out. But for the most part, things had changed because Iranian society in general was also being Westernized, light speed. And many educated people had realized that antisemitism was really looked down upon, you know, that kind of prejudice was really no longer acceptable in the world at large. So many, many sections of the community really had shifted, genuinely shifted. And some, even though maybe their feelings had not changed, knew that their antisemitism was something that they needed to keep private. MANYA: A…

    Full show notes at the publisher

    Morocco Sep 24, 2024
    Show notes

    "Today's Morocco is a prime example of what a great peaceful coexistence and international cooperation can be with an Arab country." Eli Gabay, an Israeli-born lawyer and current president of the oldest continuously active synagogue in the United States, comes from a distinguished family of Jewish leaders who have fostered Jewish communities across Morocco, Israel, and the U.S. Now residing in Philadelphia, Eli and his mother, Rachel, share their deeply personal story of migration from Morocco to Israel, reflecting on the resilience of their family and the significance of preserving Jewish traditions. The Gabay family's commitment to justice and heritage is deeply rooted. Eli, in his legal career, worked with Israel's Ministry of Justice, where he notably helped prosecute John Ivan Demjanjuk, a Cleveland auto worker accused of being the notorious Nazi death camp guard, "Ivan the Terrible." Jessica Marglin, Professor of Religion, Law, and History at the University of Southern California, offers expert insights into the Jewish exodus from Morocco. She explores the enduring relationship between Morocco's Jewish community and the monarchy, and how this connection sets Morocco apart from its neighboring countries. —- Show notes: How much do you know about Jewish history in the Middle East? Take our quiz. Sign up to receive podcast updates. Learn more about the series. Song credits: Pond5: "Desert Caravans": Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Beta (BMI), Composer: Tiemur Zarobov (BMI), IPI#1098108837 "Suspense Middle East" Publisher: Victor Romanov, Composer: Victor Romanov; Item ID: 196056047 ___ Episode Transcript: ELI GABAY: Standing in court and saying 'on behalf of the State of Israel' were the proudest words of my life. It was very meaningful to serve as a prosecutor. It was very meaningful to serve in the IDF. These were highlights in my life, because they represented my core identity: as a Jew, as a Sephardic Jew, as an Israeli Sephardic Jew. These are the tenets of my life. MANYA BRACHEAR PASHMAN: The world has overlooked an important episode in modern history: the 800,000 Jews who left or were driven from their homes in the Middle East and North Africa in the mid-20th century. Welcome to the second season of The Forgotten Exodus, brought to you by American Jewish Committee. This series explores that pivotal moment in history and the little-known Jewish heritage of Iran and Arab nations. As Jews around the world confront violent antisemitism and Israelis face daily attacks by terrorists on multiple fronts, our second season explores how Jews have lived throughout the region for generations – despite hardship, hostility, and hatred–then sought safety and new possibilities in their ancestral homeland. I'm your host, Manya Brachear Pashman. Join us as we explore untold family histories and personal stories of courage, perseverance, and resilience from this transformative and tumultuous period of history for the Jewish people and the Middle East. The world has ignored these voices. We will not. This is The Forgotten Exodus. Today's episode: leaving Morocco. MANYA: There are three places Eli Gabay calls home: Philadelphia, the city where he has raised his children; Morocco, the land where his parents Rachel and Amram were born and his ancestors lived for generations; and Israel, his birthplace and original ancestral homeland. Eli has been on a quest to honor all those identities since he left Israel at the age of 12. ELI: On my father's side, they were all rabbis. On my mother's side, they were all businesspeople who headed synagogues. And so, my grandfather had a synagogue, and my other grandfather had a synagogue. When they transplanted to Israel, they reopened these synagogues in the transition camp in Be'er Sheva. Both families had a synagogue of their own. MANYA: For the past five years, Eli has served as president of his synagogue--the historic Congregation Mikveh Israel, America's oldest continuous synagogue, founded in Philadelphia in 1740. Descended from a long line of rabbis going back generations, Eli is a litigation attorney, the managing partner of a law firm, a former prosecutor, and, though it might seem odd, the Honorary Consul of the Republic of Nicaragua in Philadelphia. But the professional role that has brought him the most acclaim was his time in the 1980s, working for Israel's Ministry of Justice, decades after the Holocaust, still trying to hold its perpetrators accountable. CLIP - 'THE DEVIL NEXT DOOR' TRAILER: Charges were filed today against John Demjanjuk, the 66-year-old Ukrainian native, who's accused of being a Nazi death camp guard named Ivan the Terrible. The crimes he was accused of… MANYA: We'll tell you more about that later. But first, we take you to the Jerusalem Israeli Gift Shop in northeast Philadelphia, a little slice of Israel on the corner of Castor Avenue and Chandler Street. [shofar sounds] Every day, amid the menorahs and shofars, frames and mezuzahs, Eli's 84-year-old mother Rachel Gabay, the family matriarch and owner of thisJudaica shop, is transported back to the place where she grew up: Israel. ELI: My father was a teacher all his life, and my mother [shofar sounds] runs a Jewish Judaica store that sells shofars, you can hear in the background. RACHEL: It's my baby. The store here became my baby. CUSTOMER: You're not going to remember this, but you sold us our ketubah 24 years ago. RACHEL: Yeah. How are you, dear? ELI: Nice. CUSTOMER: We're shopping for someone else's wedding now. RACHEL: Oh, very nice… For who? CUSTOMER: A friend of ours, Moshe, who is getting married and we wanted to get him a mezuzah. MANYA: For Rachel, Israel represents the safety, security, and future her parents sought for her when in 1947 they placed her on a boat to sail away from Morocco. By then, Casablanca had become a difficult place to be Jewish. Israel offered a place to belong. And for that, she will always be grateful. RACHEL: To be a Jew, to be very good… ELI: Proud. RACHEL: Proud. I have a country, and I am somebody. ELI: My father's family comes from the High Atlas Mountains, from a small village called Aslim.The family arrived in that area sometime in 1780 or so. There were certain events that went on in Morocco that caused Jews from the periphery and from smaller cities to move to Casablanca. Both my parents were born in Morocco in Casablanca. Both families arrived in Casablanca in the early 30s, mid 30s. MANYA: Today, the port city of Casablanca is home to several synagogues and about 2,000 Jews, the largest community of Morocco. The Museum of Moroccan Judaism in suburban Casablanca, the first museum on Judaism in the Arab world, stands as a symbol of the lasting Jewish legacy in Morocco. Indeed, there's been a Jewish presence in what is considered modern-day Morocco for some 2,000 years, dating back to the early days of the establishment of Roman control. Morocco was home to thousands of Jews, many of whom lived in special quarters called "Mellah," or Jewish ghetto. Mellahs were common in cities across Morocco. JESSICA: Morocco was one of the few places in the Islamic world where there emerged the tradition of a distinctive Jewish quarter that had its own walls and was closed with its own gates. MANYA: Jessica Marglin is a professor of religion, law, and history at the University of Southern California. Her research focuses on the history of Jews and Muslims in North Africa and the Mediterranean. JESSICA: There's a bit of a debate. Were these quarters there to control Jews and force them to all live in one spot and was it a sort of form of basically repression? Or was it a way to protect them? The first mellah, the one in Fez is right next to the palace. And so there was a sense that the Jews would be closer to the Sultan or the Sultan's representative, and thus more easily protectable. It could be interpreted as a bad thing. And some Jews did see it as an unfair restriction. But I would say that most Jews didn't question the idea that Jews would live together. And that was sort of seen as natural and desirable. And there was a certain kind of autonomous jurisdiction to the mellah, too. Because Jews had their own courts. They had their own butchers. They had their own ovens. Butchers and ovens would have been kosher. They could sell wine in the mellah. They could do all these things that were particular to them. And that's where all the synagogues were. And that's where the Jewish cemetery was, right? It was really like a little Jewish city, sort of within the city. MANYA: Unlike other parts of the Middle East and North Africa where pogroms and expulsions, especially after the creation of the state of Israel, caused hundreds of thousands of Jews to abruptly flee all at once – spilling out of countries they had called home for centuries – Jews chose to leave Morocco gradually over time, compared to the exodus from other Arab countries. JESSICA: When I teach these things, I set up Morocco and Iraq as the two ends of the spectrum. Iraq being the most extreme, where Jews were really basically kicked out all at once. Essentially offered no real choice. I mean, some did stay, but it was choosing a totally reduced life. Versus Morocco, where the Jews who left did so really, with a real choice. They could have stayed and the numbers are much more gradual than anywhere else. So there was a much larger community that remained for years and years and years, even after '67, into the '70s. Even though they kept going down, it was really, it was not like Iraq where the population just falls off a cliff, right? It's like one year, there's 100,000, the next year, they're 5,000. In Morocco, it really went down extremely gradually. And that's in part why it's still the largest Jewish community in the Arab world by far. MANYA: Morocco's Jewish history is by no means all rosy. In all Arab countries, antisemitism came in waves and different forms. But there are several moments in history when the Moroccan monarchy could've abandoned the Jewish population but didn't. And in World War II, the Moroccan monarch took steps to safeguard the community. In recent years, there have been significant gestures such as the opening of the Jewish museum in Casablanca, a massive restoration of landmarks that honor Morocco's Jewish past, including 167 Jewish cemeteries, and the inclusion of Holocaust education in school curricula. In 2020, Morocco became one of four Arab countries to sign a normalization agreement with Israel, as part of the U.S.-backed Abraham Accords, which allowed for economic and diplomatic cooperation and direct flights between the two countries. MANYA: Oral histories suggest that Jews have lived in Morocco for some 2,000 years, roughly since the destruction of the Second Temple. But tangible evidence of a Jewish presence doesn't date as far back. JESSICA: The archaeological remains suggest that the community dates more to the Roman period. There was a continual presence from at least since the late Roman period, certainly well before the Islamic conquests. MANYA: Like other parts of the Middle East and North Africa, Jews in Morocco were heavily concentrated in particular artisanal trades. Many were cobblers, tailors, and jewelers who adorned their creations with intricate designs and embellishments. Gemstones, carved coral, geometric designs, and symbols such as the Hamsa to bless the wearer with good fortune and protect them from the evil eye. JESSICA: And there were certain areas where they kind of were overrepresented in part because of stigmas associated with certain crafts for Muslims. So gold and silver jewelry making in certain parts of Morocco, like in the city of Fez, Jews were particularly overrepresented in the trade that made these gold threads, which are called skalli in Moroccan Arabic, and which are used to embroider sort of very fancy clothing for men and for women. Skalli for instance, is a very common last name for Jews. MANYA: Jessica notes that in the 12th and 13th Centuries, Morocco came under the rule of the Almohad caliphate, a fundamentalist regime that saw itself as a revolutionary reform movement. Under the Almohad dynasty, local Christians in North Africa from Morocco to Libya all but disappeared. Jews on the other hand stayed. She suspects Morocco developed its own version of crypto-Jews who superficially converted to Islam or at least lived outwardly as Muslims to survive. JESSICA: There's probably more of a sense of Jews had more experience of living as minorities. Also, where else were they going to go? It wasn't so obvious. So whatever conversions there were, some of them must have stuck. And there are still, for instance, Muslim families in Fez named Kohen . . . Cohen. MANYA: Jews chose Morocco as a place of refuge in 1391, when a series of mob attacks on Jewish communities across Spain killed hundreds and forcibly converted others to Christianity. As opposed to other places in Europe, Morocco was considered a place where Jews could be safe. More refugees arrived after the Alhambra Decree of 1492 expelled Jews from Spain who refused to convert. That is when Eli's father's side of the family landed in Fez. ELI: Our tradition is that the family came from Spain, and we date our roots to Toledo, Spain. The expulsion of the Jews took place out of Spain in 1492 at which time the family moved from Spain to Morocco to Fez. MANYA: At that time, the first mellahs emerged, the name derived from the Arabic word for salt. Jessica says that might have referred to the brackish swamps where the mellah were built. JESSICA: The banning of Jews from Spain in 1492 brought a lot of Jews to North Africa, especially Morocco, because Morocco was so close. And, you know, that is why Jews in northern Morocco still speak Spanish today, or a form of Judeo Spanish known as Haketia. So, there were huge numbers of Iberian Jews who ended up throughout Morocco. And then for a long time, they remained a kind of distinctive community with their own laws and their own rabbis and their own traditions. Eventually, they kind of merged with local Jews. And they used Spanish actually, for decades, until they finally sort of Arabized in most of Morocco. ELI: My father's family, as I said, comes from a small town of Aslim. The family arrived in that area sometime in 1780 or so after there was a decree against Jews in Fez to either convert to Islam or leave. And so in a real sense, they were expelled from that region of Fez. There were Jews who arrived throughout the years after different exiles from different places. But predominantly the Jews that arrived in 1492 as a result of the Spanish expulsion were known as the strangers, and they integrated themselves in time into the fabric of Moroccan Jewry. MANYA: For Eli's family, that meant blending in with the nomadic Amazigh, or indigenous people of North Africa, commonly called Berbers. Many now avoid that term because it was used by European colonialists and resembles the word "barbarians." But it's still often used colloquially. ELI: Aslim is in the heart of Berber territory. My father's family did speak Berber. My grandfather spoke Berber, and they dressed as Berbers. They wore jalabia, which is the dress for men, for instance, and women wore dresses only, a head covering. Men also wore head coverings. They looked like Berbers in some sense, but their origins were all the way back to Spain. MANYA: In most cases across Morocco, Jews were classified as dhimmis, non-Muslim residents who were given protected status. Depending on the rulers, dhimmis lived under different restrictions; most paid a special tax, others were forced to wear dif…

    Full show notes at the publisher

    Yemen: Live Recording with Adiel Cohen – Part 2 Sep 16, 2024
    Show notes

    "When we show the world that we're not what they say about us, that we're not white colonizers, that we're actually an indigenous tribe of people that was kicked out of their homeland . . . the only argument I can think about to put against the story is 'you're lying.' . . . If they accuse you of lying when you tell your family story, they lost." Last week's episode featuring Adiel Cohen—Jewish activist, social media influencer, and Israel Defense Forces reservist—received heartfelt feedback. In part two of this conversation, Adiel joins us live from the AJC Global Forum 2024 in Washington, D.C., where listeners had the chance to ask their questions directly. Adiel discusses a plethora of topics, including his social media activism and how Israeli society today reflects the story of Jews returning to their ancestral homeland after over 2,000 years in the diaspora, refuting the false narrative that Jews are white settler colonialists. If you haven't heard The Forgotten Exodus: Yemen: Live Recording with Adiel Cohen – Part 1, listen now. —--- How much do you know about Jewish history in the Middle East? Take our short quiz! Sign up to receive podcast updates here. Learn more about the series here: The Forgotten Exodus: Yemen: Live Recording with Adiel Cohen – Part 1 The Forgotten Exodus: Yemen, with Israeli Olympian Shahar Tzubari Song credits: Pond5: "Desert Caravans": Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Beta (BMI), Composer: Tiemur Zarobov (BMI), IPI#1098108837 "Meditative Middle Eastern Flute": Publisher: N/A; Composer: DANIELYAN ASHOT MAKICHEVICH (IPI NAME #00855552512) "Suspense Middle East" Publisher: Victor Romanov, Composer: Victor Romanov; Item ID: 196056047 —-- Episode Transcript: Adiel Cohen: When we show the world that we're not what they say about us, that we're not white colonizers, that we're actually an indigenous tribe of people that was kicked out of their homeland and spread throughout the diaspora for 2000 years . . . they can try to argue with that. But at the end of the day, the facts are on our side. Manya Brachear Pashman: The world has overlooked an important episode in modern history: the 800,000 Jews who left or were driven from their homes in the Middle East and North Africa in the mid-20th century. Welcome to the second season of The Forgotten Exodus, brought to you by American Jewish Committee. This series explores that pivotal moment in history and the little-known Jewish heritage of Iran and Arab nations. As Jews around the world confront violent antisemitism and Israelis face daily attacks by terrorists on multiple fronts, our second season explores how Jews have lived throughout the region for generations–despite hardship, hostility, and hatred–then sought safety and new possibilities in their ancestral homeland. I'm your host, Manya Brachear Pashman:. Join us as we explore untold family histories and personal stories of courage, perseverance, and resilience from this transformative period of history for the Jewish people and the Middle East. The world has ignored these voices. We will not. This is The Forgotten Exodus. There has been moving and frankly overwhelming feedback from listeners of our second season, especially last week's live interview with digital influencer Adiel Cohen: about his family's journey from Yemen. If you didn't listen last week, be sure to go back and tune in. Then you'll know why there's been such a demand to release the second part of that interview – a question and answer session. Why are we sharing this? It's a sampling of the conversations these episodes have generated in homes across the nation and around the world, inspired by this series. What would you ask our guests? Here's what a handful asked Adiel when he joined us at AJC Global Forum 2024 in Washington D.C. Today's episode: Leaving Yemen, Part 2. Thank you for this conversation, Adiel. But now I'd like to turn to our audience and give them an opportunity to ask what's on their minds. If you have a question, please raise your hand, someone will bring you a microphone. Be sure to state your name, where you're from, and keeping with the spirit of the event, tell us where your family is from going back generations. Audience Member/Carole Weintraub: Hi, thank you for coming. My name is Carole Weintraub. I'm from Philadelphia. And depending on the week, my family was either from Poland, Ukraine, or Russia – the borders changed all the time. Adiel Cohen: Oh wow, ok. Carole Weintraub: Take your pick. My question's kind of a fun question. You mentioned some dishes that your grandmom would make. You gave us the names, but I never heard of them, and could you describe them? Adiel Cohen: Yes. So the main food that we eat, I would say it's like the equivalent to matzo ball soup. That's like the default dish for holidays, for day-to-day. It's Yemenite soup. It's just called Yemenite soup. It's very simple. It's a soup made with a lot of spices, I think. Kumkum and hell. It can be vegetable, chicken, or beef based, with a side of either potato or pumpkin inside the soup. It's very good, very healthy. We eat it, especially in winter, every Shabbat. Like it cleans your entire system, all the spices. Some breads that we have that are also very common. Lachuch or lachoh, you know, in the Yemenite pronunciation, it's a flatbread similar to pancake. It's kind of like a pancake, only fried on one side with holes, yeah. And the other side, the top side becomes full of bubbles that turn into holes. So it's fluffy, like very, very soft, very good to eat with dips or with soup. We also have saluf, which is just a regular pita, it's a flatbread. Zalabiyeh, which is kind of like the, in Yemen they used to eat it during Shavuot and in Israel, now we eat it a lot in Hanukkah, because it's fried. It's kind of like a flatbread donut. I don't know how else to explain it. Right. It's kind of like sufganiyah but made flat, like a pita. There's so much more wow, I'm starting to salivate here. Manya Brachear Pashman: If you don't mind me just interjecting with one of my own questions, and that is, do you encourage people to make these recipes, to try out different parts of your culture or do you feel a little bit of or maybe fear appropriation of your culture? Like what is… Adiel Cohen: No, not at all. Go look up Yemenite soup recipe on Google. It's all there in English. And it's delicious. It's healthy. Do it, really. Manya Brachear Pashman: Do you try other Jewish cultures in fact? Adiel Cohen: Kubbeh must be one of my favorite foods that is not Yemenite. It's Iraqi-Jewish. My hometown, Ramat Gan, is the capital of Iraqi Jews and Israel. Every time I say that I'm from Ramat Gan, people ask me 'Oh, you're Iraqi?' I'm like, no, no, Yemenite. So kubbeh, sabich. Sabich, that's the best food, I think, Israel has to offer. Also Iraqi Jewish. I feel bad that I don't have anything good to say about Ashkenazi foods. I tried matzo ball soup for the first time. I'm sorry. My sister, she married an Ashkenazi Jew from Monsey – can't get any more Ashkenazi than that. And this was actually my first time trying and getting a taste of Ashkenazi culture and cuisine. Can't say that it, like, blew me off. Manya Brachear Pashman: Alright, next question. Audience Member/Amy Albertson: Hi, Adiel. Adiel Cohen: Hi, Amy. Amy Albertson: My name is Amy Albertson. I personally am from California and my family's from Russia, Poland, and China. And my question for you is, as a fellow social media creator, especially during times like this, I get asked a lot about racism in Israel since Americans are obsessed with racism. And they always want to point out how the Teimanim, the Yemenites, the Ethiopians, the other what Americans like to say not white Jews are discriminated against and have been discriminated against since the establishment of Israel. Obviously, we can't deny that there is racism. However, I would like to know your perspective obviously as a Yemenite Jew living in Israel and also the good and the bad, where you find that things are hopefully better than they were in the past in Israel, and also where you think that Israeli society still has to improve when it comes to things like this. Adiel Cohen: So part of the cultural discourse in Israel, we always make fun of how every wave of aliyah, from every place in the world that Israel experienced, the last wave of aliyah discriminates against them or makes fun of them, because 'oh, the new ones.' And in a sense, it is true, you see it a lot. And racism, unfortunately, exists in Israel, in Israeli society, just like in every society in the world. I think that if you compare it to how it was in the 50s, we're way better off now. And racism is widely condemned, all throughout Israeli society, against anyone, against any communities. We still have the stereotypes, we still have, you know, these jokes that sometimes are funny, sometimes are less funny about different communities. I would say for the most part, we know how to maintain a healthy humor of kind of making fun of each other as different communities but also making it all part of what it means to be Israeli. When my grandparents came to Israel, they were discriminated against. They were 'othered' by the rest of society that was mostly dominated by secular Ashkenazim. The same thing can also be said on Holocaust survivors that first arrived in Israel and also faced discrimination from their brothers and sisters, who are also Ashkenazim. So I don't know if racism is the right word. I don't think there's a word that can describe this dynamic that we have between our communities. But yeah, I definitely can say that throughout the generations it's become way better. We see way more diverse representation in Israeli media, in Israeli pop culture. If you look at what's Israeli pop culture, it's majority Mizrahi, and a lot of Yemenites if I may add, because, you know, we know how to sing. Not me, though, unfortunately. But yeah, we see a lot more representation. I believe we're on the right path to become more united and to bridge between our differences and different communities. Audience Member/Alison Platt: Hi, I'm Alison Platt. I live in Chicago by way of Northern California. My family is from all over Europe, and then about 1500 years before that Southern Italy. So I lost my grandmother last week, so I really thank you, I really appreciate the importance of telling our grandparents' stories. So thank you for sharing yours with us. For those of us who are millennials or Gen Z who are for better or worse, very online, storytelling is important and telling our own personal Jewish stories, very important, telling our collective Jewish story, very important. So for someone who does that on social media, what is your advice for those of us who are really trying to educate both on a one-to-one level and then communally about our Jewish identities, what has been successful for you, what has been challenging and where do you see that going? Adiel Cohen: So, you know, telling a story, you can tell a story with words, you can also tell a story with visuals. Some of the most successful videos that I made about Yemenite Jews involved my grandma cooking and my mom cooking, making lachuch and showing the Seder, the table, how beautiful and colorful it is. So don't be afraid to pull up your phone and just show it when you see it. And in terms of verbal stories, speak to your grandparents as much as you can. When my grandma passed away, I realized how it can happen like that, and then that's it. And there's no more stories from Savta around Shabbat table and what you managed to gather, that's what you're carrying on to the future. So collect as many stories as possible from every generation so that these stories can live on and exist. And just tell them on social media, open your camera, tell it to the world, because this is how they get to know us. Audience Member/Ioel: Hi, everyone. I'm Ioel from Italy. I'm the Vice President of the Italian Union of Young Jews. And part of my family comes from Egypt. So I relate to your storytelling. Recently, I have attended the inaugural seminar of Archon Europe. It's an organization that's fostering heritage towards Europe. And we were wondering how to share our stories. So I want to ask you, what is the best thing for you to make the story of this sort of silent exodus known in the Western society, and especially in our university. And how do you think your activism is contributing to fight antisemitism? Adiel Cohen: I think it's as simple as just taking the leap and start telling these stories. As I said, sit with your grandparents, with your parents and just talk about it. Write down notes and turn it into a story that can be told through social media, make videos about it. You know, Egyptian jewelry, if you look into it, there's so much there. There's the Genizah, right, the Cairo Genizah – so much knowledge and Jewish history, not only from Egypt, but from the entire Middle East. You got accounts in the Cairo Genizah about how Jews lived in Israel, in the Land of Israel, under Muslim rule; stories that are not heard. When you expose the world and people on campus to these stories, first of all, you burst the little bubble that says Jews poofed in Israel in 1948 and up until then, they didn't exist there. And second of all, you show them that Jews existed, not just in Europe, but also in other parts of the world – in Egypt, and in the Middle East as well. Your question was, how does my activism contribute? I hope to inspire more young Jews, Gen Z, millennials, to share their stories and get connected to them and understand the importance of sharing stories because you can enjoy listening to your grandparents stories, but then do nothing about it. So I hope that my content and then my activism inspires other Jews to speak up, just like I am inspired by other creators who also tell their stories. Manya Brachear Pashman: And I think the other aspect of his question was about fighting antisemitism, whether or not you feel that sharing these stories helps in that effort. Adiel Cohen: Definitely. Again, when we show the world that we're not what they say about us, that we're not white colonizers, that we're actually an indigenous tribe of people that was kicked out of their homeland and spread throughout the diaspora for 2000 years, they can try to argue with that. But at the end of the day, the facts are on our side, and also the importance of a story, you can't argue with a story. If you're telling a story from your family, from your own personal experience, the only argument I can think about to put against the story is 'you're lying.' And 'you're lying' is not a good argument. If they accuse you of lying when you tell your family story, they lost. Audience Member/Daniel: Hi, my name is Daniel. I'm American-Israeli and my family background is I'm half Lithuanian and half Yemenite. I just wanna say I feel very and thoroughly inspired by you, and thank you so much for coming today. Adiel Cohen: Thank you. Daniel: As a child, I was fortunate enough to hear stories from my grandparents and my great grandfather about their lives in Yemen. Recently, I read Maimonides' letter to Yemen Adiel Cohen: Beautiful. Daniel: And I was particularly inspired by the fact that it was originally written in Arabic and it was translated into Hebrew so that it could be properly disseminated in the commu…

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    Yemen: Live Recording with Adiel Cohen – Part 1 Sep 09, 2024
    Show notes

    "We can't expect people to stand up for us against antisemitism if they don't know who we are. And we can't expect them to know who we are if we're not there to tell our story." Adiel Cohen: Jewish activist, social media influencer, and Israel Defense Forces reservist, has a passion for storytelling – especially that of his beloved grandmother, Savta Sarah. She fled Yemen under harrowing circumstances to come to Israel in the mid-20th century. At just 12 years old, she left the only home she'd ever known, braving dangerous terrain, bandits, and gangs – to reach safety in Israel. Recorded live at AJC Global Forum 2024 in Washington, D.C., this conversation explores the vibrant life of Yemenite Jews and the scarred history of Jewish persecution in the country. In a candid conversation, Adiel reflects on his advocacy, both online and off, and emphasizes the importance of sharing diverse Jewish stories. —- Show notes: Sign up to receive podcast updates here. Learn more about the series here. Song credits: Pond5: "Desert Caravans": Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Beta (BMI), Composer: Tiemur Zarobov (BMI), IPI#1098108837 "Meditative Middle Eastern Flute": Publisher: N/A; Composer: DANIELYAN ASHOT MAKICHEVICH (IPI NAME #00855552512) "Suspense Middle East" Publisher: Victor Romanov, Composer: Victor Romanov; Item ID: 196056047 ___ Episode Transcript: Adiel Cohen: Because they dare to fight back, they knew that they're no longer safe, because God forbid Jews resist to oppression and to violence. And the same night, my grandma told me that her father gave her a pair of earrings, silver earrings, and he told her, 'Sarah, take these pair of earrings and keep them safe. That's the only thing that you can take with you to Eretz Yisrael.' Manya Brachear Pashman: The world has overlooked an important episode in modern history: the 800,000 Jews who left or were driven from their homes in the Middle East and North Africa in the mid-20th century. Welcome to the second season of The Forgotten Exodus, brought to you by American Jewish Committee. This series explores that pivotal moment in history and the little-known Jewish heritage of Iran and Arab nations. As Jews around the world confront violent antisemitism and Israelis face daily attacks by terrorists on multiple fronts, our second season explores how Jews have lived throughout the region for generations despite hardship, hostility, and hatred, then sought safety and new possibilities in their ancestral homeland. I'm your host, Manya Brachear Pashman. Join us as we explore untold family histories and personal stories of courage, perseverance, and resilience from this transformative and tumultuous period of history for the Jewish people and the Middle East. The world has ignored these voices. We will not. This is The Forgotten Exodus. Today's episode: leaving Yemen. _ On the night of October 7, while Hamas terrorists were still on their murderous rampage through Israel, 26-year-old Adiel Cohen was drafted to serve in a reserve artillery corps unit and rocket division of the Israeli Defense Forces. He went directly to a base near one of Israel's borders to start working on his unit's vehicles and tools. But that is not the only battlefront on which Adiel has been serving. Adiel is a content creator on social media, creating Instagram posts and TikTok videos to counter the antisemitism and anti-Israel messages proliferating online. One way Adiel dispels some of these misconceptions is by sharing his own family's story. Adiel's grandparents on both sides were in that group of 800,000 Jews who fled Arab lands and started life anew in Israel. In 1950, they fled Yemen, making their way to Israel to help build a Jewish state. Today's special episode of The Forgotten Exodus presents an exclusive interview with Adiel, recorded in front of a live audience at the AJC Global Forum 2024 in Washington D.C. Adiel, you heard stories from your Savta Sarah who passed away only a few months ago. She was your paternal grandmother. Could you please share that side of your family story in Yemen? Adiel Cohen: Of course. So first of all, I want to thank you all for coming and listening to my story. It's my first time in this type of AJC event, especially on that scale. It's very exciting to me, and it's amazing to see this beautiful display of Jewish solidarity and strength. So I'm very, very honored to be here. Thank you. So the history of the Jewish community in Yemen dates back for as long as the Israelite Kingdom existed. It dates back all the way to King Shlomo (Solomon) and the First Temple when we had trade with the kingdom of Sh'va (Sheba), at the time that ruled Ethiopia and Yemen. And for my family, as far as we can tell, we go back all the way to that era. I do know that I have one ancestor somewhere along the line 15 generations ago from the Jewish community of Iraq that migrated into Yemen. But my ancestry for the most part is in Yemen, Yemenite Jewish. I did a DNA test. The results were nothing too revolutionary, aside from 1% Nigerian. But yeah, it just came out Yemenite Jewish. And they spent pretty much the entire diaspora in Yemen until 1950. Manya Brachear Pashman: And your grandfather was a jeweler, right? A silversmith? Adiel Cohen: He was. So fun fact: the work of silver and crafts made of silver, was a profession only done by Jews in Yemen. So you can imagine how impactful it was for the economy in Yemen. And you know, a lot of people say that Jews, like, control the economy and all these, you know, stereotypes that we know. In Yemen, we really drove a big part of the economy, because of the professions that we did that were pretty much only Jews doing them. So he used to do silver work and jewelry. He did both the traditional Yemenite jewelry which is made of thin silver wires, creating these beautiful patterns. And not just jewelry, but also Judaica, candlesticks, and all these ritual tools like the can for the b'samim (ritual spices), for the Havdalah. Beautiful, beautiful art, passed from his father and then his father, all the way, thousands of years as far as we can tell. And nowadays, my uncle, my father's brother, is preserving this tradition. He has a gallery in Tzfat, if you're ever planning to go there. Now, it's not really a good time, but definitely hit me up, and I'll send you his way. Very proud of that tradition. Definitely. Manya Brachear Pashman: That's lovely. Were they city folk? Or did they live in a more agricultural area? Adiel Cohen: They were fully city folks. They lived in Sanaa, the capital, both sides of my family. It's interesting, not a lot of people know, but there's a lot of nuance in the Yemenite Jewish community. So Yemen is a pretty big country and pretty diverse. You've got mountains and green terraces and agriculture, but you also have very, very dry desert, and you have port cities. So every Jewish community in Yemen was very unique in its culture and its essence in their professions. And in Sanaa specifically, they were more into spirituality and humanities. They were intellectuals and thinkers, a lot of philosophy, a lot of the Jewish philosophy and poetry in Yemen came from Sanaa. And this is where both sides of my family come from. Manya Brachear Pashman: Did they live in harmony with their neighbors in Sanaa for most of that time? Adiel Cohen: Yeah, so the relations between Jews and Arabs in Yemen vary. It was a roller coaster for the most part of history, and it really depended on the king and the leadership at every single time. And there were times of great coexistence and flourishing and times where, you know, you could see Jewish poetry and literature and just like in Spain, like what we hear in Spain. But there were also times of great conflict and oppression and violence. One instance that I can point out to was in the 1600s, in 1679, it was an event called the Mawza Exile. Not a lot of people know about it, which is a shame, because it is the single most traumatic event in the history of our community. It lasted one year, and during this year, the king decided that all the Jews in Yemen should be expelled to the desert. And the desert in Yemen is very, very harsh – wild animals, climate, lack of food, soil that cannot be cultivated. And of course, this also came with burning of books and literatures and archives. Yemenite Jews, up until then, kept archives of their family trees and scriptures and poetry. We don't have a lot of it left before the 1600s, because of this event. Two-thirds of the community perished during that year, there was no one to fill the jobs that Jews used to do. And at some point, the king allowed Jews to come back to their homes and live in their own ghettos. That was from the 1600s till 1950 with Operation Magic Carpet. But in the more modern, in the more recent history, we can point out the 40s as an uptick in violence and antisemitism against Jews in Yemen. A lot of people think that what happened in Europe at the time did not really affect Jews in Arab countries, but it is completely the opposite. We had Nazi emissaries visiting some Arab countries and Jewish communities trying to inspect options to transfer Jews from the Middle East to concentration camps in Europe and even building and establishing concentration camps in the Middle East for Jews. The Mufti of Jerusalem at the time, Hajj Amin al-Husayni, was also very involved in trying to transfer the Jews of Yemen to concentration camps. It did not succeed. At the time, there was a pretty friendly king. But Nazi propaganda infiltrated every single society at the time in the Middle East. The Farhud in Iraq is a great example of that, right, of Nazi involvement in the Middle East. And the same thing happened in Yemen. And I can point out to one event that was kind of like the turning point and then we can also continue to the story of my grandma's aliyah. There was a blood libel that was spread in Sanaa. Hundreds of Arabs who used to be neighbors just turned against their Jewish neighbors, started attacking them, looting their homes, raiding the Jewish Quarter of Sanaa. Manya Brachear Pashman: So did the violence reach your family directly? Adiel Cohen: My grandma's family, they used to live all in the same house. It was a big family in Yemen. It was common that the entire family, the entire clan, lives in the same house, especially if they're well off. And my family, Baruch Hashem, they were pretty well off. They were jewelers and traders, and they had a big house with the entire family. And their neighbor came, broke into their house. All the grandchildren, including my grandma, had to hide in the pantries and in the closets, and their grandfather, Saba Avraham, was there protecting the house. Their neighbor came, assaulted their grandfather, knocked him to the ground. And my grandma, when she told me this story, she told me that they were looking, they were peeking through the cracks of the door and they saw what's going on. And when they saw the assault, they decided to storm out of the pantries and the closet with pans and pots and knives and attack the neighbor. And she tells me they chased him down the street and this is how they saved their grandfather's life. And this is a story over Shabbat dinner. It's crazy, crazy stories that we used to listen to. Manya Brachear Pashman: And how long after that incident did your family say, we have to leave? Adiel Cohen: The same day, the same day. But because they dare to fight back, they knew that they're no longer safe. Because God forbid Jews resist to oppression and to violence. And the same night, my grandma told me that her father gave her a pair of earrings, silver earrings, and he told her, 'Sarah, take these pair of earrings and keep them safe. That's the only thing that you can take with you to Eretz Yisrael.' And the same night they were packing everything that they could but not too much because they needed to walk by foot. They packed their stuff for the way, and with dawn they set to the city of Aden. In Aden, there was the transit camp, Hashed, which all Yemenite Jews from all over Yemen fled to during this time. And from there, Operation Magic Carpet commenced, but the journey was incredibly hard. My grandma used to tell me that the entire world was in the 20th century, and Yemen was still somewhere in the 18th century – no roads, camels, donkeys, sometimes Jeeps. And she told us one story which completely blew my mind. It was a few weeks before she passed away. About how she, at some point, they traveled night and day, continuously, and at some point, her donkey with her sister and her little brother, baby brother, broke off from the caravan. The rest of the family, they had to stay somewhere. And they were held up, basically. But my Savta continued with their donkey, with her sister Tzivia, and their baby brother, one-year-old Ratzon. And, you know, along the way, they had to face bandits and gangs, and it was very, very tough. They had to pay ransom every few miles. And at some point, when they broke off from the caravan, a bandit came and assaulted them. He pushed them off the cliffside and took the donkey with everything, everything they had – food, the equipment, they had nothing left. And they were left stranded on the cliffside. It was already starting to get dark. And they don't know where the rest of the family is, somewhere in the back, and they don't know if they can ever find them. And she told me that it began to get darker and darker. And at some point, they looked up and all they saw was pitch black and just night sky full of stars. And they were praying and they were singing, just hanging on a cliffside. Imagine that at the time, she was 12. Her sister was 14. And they were both holding a little one-year-old baby. And she said that when they stopped singing, they kind of lost hope already. Their brother started crying. And when he started crying, that's exactly when their family passed on the trail up on the mountain. And this is how they got rescued in the middle of the night, in the middle of the desert after being attacked and robbed. And they had to just continue walking all the way to Camp Hashed. They spent a few months there as well. Not easy months. Manya Brachear Pashman: Your grandmother was one who believed in miracles, I believe. Adiel Cohen: Yeah. Manya Brachear Pashman: Yeah, okay. Adiel Cohen: Yeah, definitely. Manya Brachear Pashman: Yes. Well, instead of going into the details of Operation Magic Carpet, or On Eagle's Wings was really the name of that operation, I encourage our audience to listen to the first season of The Forgotten Exodus, where we interviewed Israeli Olympian Shahar Tzubari. His family also came from Yemen and the details of Operation On Eagle's Wings, there's a lot of details about that in that episode. So I encourage you to go back and listen to that, so that we can move on to your family's arrival in Israel, which also was not easy. Adiel Cohen: Yeah, definitely not easy. I believe you all heard of the conditions in the transit camps in Israel. My family arrived in the winter of 1950. It was considered probably the coldest winter recorded in Israel. So cold it snowed in Tel Aviv. And that was the first time my grandma ever saw snow. They arrived at the transit camp in Ein Shemer, and they were one of the lucky families. I guess, maybe, because they were pretty well off. They didn't sleep in a tent, but they slept in a tin shack, a little tin shack. Not the best conditions, obviously. No heating, no beds, sleeping on the ground, the entire family, and, you know, passing the tough winter months. Mud, rain, everything. And, after a few mont…

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    Syria Sep 03, 2024
    Show notes

    "It's quite clear to me that he was trying to recreate the hillside of Haifa with the gardens... It comes from somebody being ripped out from their home." Syrian Jewish Playwright Oren Safdie, son of world-renowned architect Moshe Safdie, who designed Habitat 67 along with much of modern Jerusalem, knows loss, regret, and longing. Oren and his father explore their Syrian heritage and their connection to the Jewish state that has developed since Moshe's father left Aleppo, Syria and moved, in the mid-20th century, to what is modern-day Israel. Oren also knows that being Jewish is about stepping up. Describing his frustrations with modern anti-Israel sentiments and protests that harken back to 1943, Oren is passionately combating anti-Israel propaganda in theater and academia. Abraham Marcus, Associate Professor Emeritus at University of Texas at Austin, joins the conversation with historical insights into Jewish life in Syria dating back to Roman times. —- Show notes: Sign up to receive podcast updates here. Learn more about the series here. Song credits: Al Fadimem, Bir Demet Yasemen, Fidayda; all by Turku, Nomads of the Silk Road Aleppo Bakkashah Pond5: "Desert Caravans": Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Beta (BMI), Composer: Tiemur Zarobov (BMI), IPI#1098108837 "Oud Nation": Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Beta (BMI); Composer: Haygaz Yossoulkanian (BMI), IPI#1001905418 "Arabic (Middle Eastern Music)": Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Beta (BMI), Composer: Andrei Skliarov, Item ID #152407112 "Fields Of Elysium"; Publisher: Mysterylab Music; Composer: Mott Jordan; ID#79549862 "Middle Eastern Dawn": Publisher: Victor Romanov, Composer: Victor Romanov; Item ID #202256497 "Ney Flute Melody 01": Publisher: Ramazan Yuksel; Composer: Ramazan Yuksel; P.R.O. Track: BMI 00712367557 "Uruk": Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Beta (BMI); Composer: Marcus Bressler; Item ID: 45886699 "Suspense Middle East" Publisher: Victor Romanov, Composer: Victor Romanov; Item ID: 196056047 ___ Episode Transcript: OREN SAFDIE: I've sort of wanted to shine a light on North American Jews being hypercritical of Israel. Because I've spent a lot of time in Israel. And I know what it is. It's not a simple thing. And I think it's very easy for Americans in the comfort of their little brownstones in Brooklyn, and houses in Cambridge to criticize, but these people that live in Israel are really standing the line for them. MANYA BRACHEAR PASHMAN: The world has overlooked an important episode in modern history: the 800,000 Jews who left or were driven from their homes in the Middle East and North Africa in the mid-20th century. Welcome to the second season of The Forgotten Exodus, brought to you by American Jewish Committee. This series explores that pivotal moment in history and the little-known Jewish heritage of Iran and Arab nations. As Jews around the world confront violent antisemitism and Israelis face daily attacks by terrorists on multiple fronts, our second season explores how Jews have lived throughout the region for generations despite hardship, hostility, and hatred, then sought safety and new possibilities in their ancestral homeland. I'm your host, Manya Brachear Pashman. Join us as we explore untold family histories and personal stories of courage, perseverance, and resilience from this transformative and tumultuous period of history for the Jewish people and the Middle East. The world has ignored these voices. We will not. This is The Forgotten Exodus. Today's episode: leaving Aleppo. MANYA: Playwright and screenwriter Oren Safdie has had just about enough of the anti-Israel sentiments on stage and screen. And what irks him the most is when it comes from Jewish artists and celebrities who have never spent time in the Middle East's one and only democracy. Remember film director Jonathan Glazer's speech at the 2024 Academy Awards? JONATHAN GLAZER: Right now, we stand here as men who refute their Jewishness and the Holocaust being hijacked by an occupation which has led to conflict for so many innocent people. Whether the victims of October the … [APPLAUSE] MANYA: Yeah, Oren didn't much appreciate his own Jewishness being hijacked in that moment. Drawing a moral equivalence between the Nazi regime and Israel never really sits well with him. OREN: I do feel like they're very selective in their criticism of Israel. You know, it's very easy to say, 'Oh, well, they didn't do that. They don't do this.' But it's a complicated situation. And to simplify it, is just to me beyond, especially if you're not somebody who has spent a lot of time in Israel. MANYA: Oren Safdie has penned more than two dozen scripts for stages and screens around the world. His latest film, Lunch Hour, starring Alan Cumming, is filming in Minnesota. Meanwhile, The Man Who Saved the Internet with A Sunflower, another script he co-wrote, is on the festival circuit. And his latest play Survival of the Unfit, made its North American debut in the Berkshires this summer, is headed to Broadway. And by the way, since an early age, Oren Safdie has spent quite a bit of time in Israel. His father Moshe Safdie is the legendary architect behind much of modern Jerusalem, Ben-Gurion International Airport, and the Yad Vashem Holocaust History Museum. Oren's grandfather, Leon, emigrated from Syria. OREN: I'm sort of a synthesis of the two main parts that established Israel because my mother came from Poland, escaped the Holocaust. And my father's family came from Syria. So, I'm a half breed. I've never been asked about my Sephardic side, even though that was really the dominant side that I grew up with. Because my mother's family was quite small. I grew up in Montreal, it was much more in the Syrian tradition for holidays, food, everything like that. My grandfather was from Aleppo, Syria, and my grandmother was from Manchester, England, but originally from Aleppo. Her family came to Manchester, but two generations before, had been from Aleppo. So, they're both Halabi Jews. MANYA: Halabi refers to a diverse group of Jews from Aleppo, one of the oldest continuously inhabited cities in the world that has gone by several names. The oldest? Haleb. Halabi Jews include Mizrahi Jews -- the name for Jews who call the Middle East or North Africa home; and Sephardi Jews, who fled to the region after being expelled from Spain in the 15th Century. Jews are believed to have been in what is now Syria since the time of King David and certainly since early Roman times. ABRAHAM MARCUS: It's a community that starts, as far as we can record, in the Greco-Roman period. And we see the arrival of Islam. So the Jews were really the indigenous people when Arabs arrived. MANYA: Abraham Marcus, born to parents from Aleppo, is an internationally renowned authority on the city. He served as director of the Center for Middle Eastern Studies at the University of Texas at Austin. For the past 16 years, he has been working on a book about the history of Aleppo's Jews that goes well beyond what has been previously published. As part of his research, he examined thousands of documents from the Syrian national archive and the Ottoman archive in Istanbul. He also did extensive fieldwork on the ground in Aleppo, documenting the synagogues, cemeteries, residential districts, and workplaces. MARCUS: One of the synagogues, the famous ancient synagogue of Aleppo, which dates to the 5th Century, meaning it predates the arrival of Arabs. It is a remarkable structure. Unfortunately, what is left of it now is really a skeleton. MANYA: Abraham is referring to the Great Synagogue or Central Synagogue of Aleppo, which functioned as the main house of worship for the Syrian Jewish community for more than 1,600 years. For 600 of those years, its catacombs safeguarded a medieval manuscript believed to be the oldest, most complete, most accurate text of the Hebrew Bible, known as the Aleppo Codex. The codex was used by Maimonides as a reference for his magnum opus, the Mishneh Torah, or Jewish religious legal code. In the 7th Century, Aleppo was conquered by Arab Muslims and a Great Mosque was built. For the next four centuries, the Byzantine Empire, Crusaders, and various Muslim rulers fought to gain control of Aleppo and the surrounding region. A savage Mongol invasion, a bout of the Black Death and another invasion took its toll on the city, and its Jews. For most of this time, Muslim rulers treated them as dhimmis, or second-class citizens. MARCUS: There were restrictions on dress, which were renewed time and again. They could not carry arms. They could not ride horses. MANYA: After half of Spain's Jews converted to Christianity following the pogroms of 1391, the Catholic monarchs issued the Alhambra Decree of 1492 – an edict that expelled any remaining Jews from the Iberian Peninsula to ensure their descendants didn't revert back to Judaism. As Jews fled, many made their way to parts of the Ottoman Empire. In 1516, Aleppo became part of that empire and emerged as a strategic trading post at the end of the Silk Road, between the Mediterranean Sea and Mesopotamia, or modern-day Iraq. As was the case in other parts of the Ottoman Empire, Jews lived relatively comfortably, serving as merchants and tax collectors. MARCUS: The policy of the Ottoman Empire was to essentially welcome the Sephardic Jews. The Sultan at the time is reputed to have said, 'I don't understand the King of Spain. But if he's thinking at all, giving up all this human capital, essentially, we can take it.' Many of the successful Jews in Aleppo and Damascus–in business, as leaders, as rabbis–were Sephardic Jews. They revived these communities, they brought new blood and new energy to them, a new wealth. MANYA: This was not always the case throughout Ottoman Syria as persecution and pogroms erupted at times. By the mid-19th Century, Aleppo's Jewish population was slightly smaller than that of Baghdad, by about 2,000. In 1869, the opening of the Suez Canal shifted trade away from the route through Syria. Aleppo lost much of its commercial edge, motivating many Jews to seek opportunity elsewhere. MARCUS: The story of Aleppo is one of a society gradually hemorrhaging, losing people. They went to Beirut, which was a rising star. And Egypt became very attractive. So they went to Alexandria and Cairo. And many of the rabbis from the 1880s began to move to Jerusalem where there were yeshivot that were being set up. And in effect, over the next several decades, essentially the spiritual center of Aleppo's Jews was Jerusalem and no longer Aleppo. MANYA: Another turning point for Aleppo came in World War I when the Ottoman Empire abandoned its neutral position and sided with the Central Powers–including Bulgaria, Austria-Hungary and Germany. Many wealthy Jews had acquired foreign nationalities from countries that were not allies. Now considered enemy citizens, they were deported and never came back. In addition, Jews and Christians up to that point could pay a special tax to avoid serving in the army. That privilege ended in 1909. MARCUS: Because of the Balkan Wars, there was a sense that the empire is going to collapse if they don't essentially raise a large force to defend it. And there was a kind of flight that really decimated the community by 1918, when the war ended. MANYA: Besides those two wartime exceptions, Abraham says the departure of Jews from Syria was almost always motivated by the promise of better opportunities. In fact, opportunity might have been what drew the Safdie family to and from Aleppo. MANYA: Originally from Safed, as their name suggests, the Safdie family arrived in Aleppo sometime during the 16th or 17th centuries. By that time, the Jewish community in Safed, one of the Four Holy Cities in Judaism located in modern-day Israel, had transformed it into a lucrative textile center. So lucrative that the sultan of the ruling Ottoman Empire ordered the forced deportation of 1,000 Jewish families to Cyprus to boost that island's economy. It's not clear if those deportations or the decline that followed pushed the Safdie family north to Aleppo. Most of them stayed for roughly three centuries–through World War One and France's brief rule during the Interwar period. But in 1936, amid the Great Depression, which affected Syria as well, Leon Safdie, the ninth of ten children born to textile merchants, moved to Haifa and set up his own trading business. Importing textiles, woolens, and cottons from England and fabrics from Japan and India. A year later, he met his wife Rachel who had sailed from Manchester to visit her sister in Jerusalem. She spoke English and a little French. He spoke Arabic and French. They married a month later. OREN: My grandfather lived in Haifa, he was a merchant like many Syrian Jews were. He imported textiles. He freely went between the different countries, you know, there weren't really so many borders. A lot of his people he worked with were Arab, Druze, Christian, Muslim. Before independence, even though there was obviously some tension, being somebody who is a Syrian Jew, who spoke Arabic, who spoke French, he was sort of just one of the region. MANYA: Moshe Safdie was born in 1938. He says the onset of the Second World War created his earliest memories – hosting Australian soldiers in their home for Shabbat and making nightly trips into air raid shelters. Every summer, the family vacationed in the mountain resorts of Lebanon to visit aunts and uncles that had moved from Aleppo to Beirut. Their last visit to Lebanon in the summer of 1947 culminated with all of the aunts, uncles, and cousins piling into three Chrysler limousines and caravanning from Beirut to Aleppo to visit their grandmother and matriarch, Symbol. MOSHE: I remember sort of the fabric of the city. I have vague memories of the Citadel of Aleppo, because it was an imposing structure. I remember her – a very fragile woman, just vaguely. MANYA: While most of Moshe's memories of Aleppo are vague, one memory in particular is quite vivid. At that time, the United Nations General Assembly was debating the partition plan that would divide what was then the British Mandate of Palestine between Jews and Arabs. Tensions ran high throughout the region. When Moshe's uncles noticed Moshe wearing his school uniform on the streets of Aleppo, they panicked. MOSHE: They were terrified. We were walking in the street, and we had khaki shirts and khaki pants. And it had stitched on it, as required in our school, the school badge, and it said, 'Thou shalt be humble' in Hebrew. And they saw that, or at least they noticed we had that, and they said: 'No, this is very dangerous!' and they ripped it off.' MANYA: It would be the first and last time Moshe Safdie visited Aleppo. On the 29th of November, the UN voted on a resolution to divide Palestine into two states, one Arab and one Jewish. The news arrived in Aleppo the following morning. MARCUS: This was New York time, in the evening, when the decision was made. So already, people started planning demonstrations for the next day, in support of the Palestinians. And that next day began with what was a peaceful demonstration of students, and then all kinds of people joined in and before long it became an attack on Jewish property. The synagogues were set ablaze. Many Jewish homes were burned, businesses were looted. And so the day ended with the Jews really in a state of fright. MANYA: The mob looted the Jewish quarter and burned the Great Synagogue, scattering and desecrating the pages of the Aleppo Codex. The caretaker of the synagogue and his son later returned to the ashes to salvage as much as they could. But most of…

    Full show notes at the publisher

    Tunisia Aug 26, 2024
    Show notes

    "In the Israeli DNA and the Jewish DNA, we have to fight to be who we are. In every generation, empires and big forces tried to erase us . . . I know what it is to be rejected for several parts of my identity... I'm fighting for my ancestors, but I'm also fighting for our future generation." Hen Mazzig, a writer, digital creator, and founder of the Tel Aviv Institute, shares his powerful journey as a proud Israeli, LGBTQ+, and Mizrahi Jew, in the premiere episode of the second season of the award-winning podcast, The Forgotten Exodus. Hen delves into his family's deep roots in Tunisia, their harrowing experiences during the Nazi occupation, and their eventual escape to Israel. Discover the rich history of Tunisia's ancient Amazigh Jewish community, the impact of French colonial and Arab nationalist movements on Jews in North Africa, and the cultural identity that Hen passionately preserves today. Joining the conversation is historian Lucette Valensi, an expert on Tunisian Jewish culture, who provides scholarly insights into the longstanding presence of Jews in Tunisia, from antiquity to their exodus in the mid-20th century. ___ Show notes: Sign up to receive podcast updates here. Learn more about the series here. Song credits: "Penceresi Yola Karsi" -- by Turku, Nomads of the Silk Road Pond5: "Desert Caravans": Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Beta (BMI), Composer: Tiemur Zarobov (BMI), IPI#1098108837 "Sentimental Oud Middle Eastern": Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Beta (BMI), Composer: Sotirios Bakas (BMI), IPI#797324989. "Meditative Middle Eastern Flute": Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Beta (BMI), Composer: Danielyan Ashot Makichevich (BMI), IPI Name #00855552512, United States BMI "Tunisia Eastern": Publisher: Edi Surya Nurrohim, Composer: Edi Surya Nurrohim, Item ID#155836469. "At The Rabbi's Table": Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Beta (BMI), Composer: Fazio Giulio (IPI/CAE# 00198377019). "Fields Of Elysium"; Publisher: Mysterylab Music; Composer: Mott Jordan; ID#79549862 "Frontiers": Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Beta (BMI); Composer: Pete Checkley (BMI), IPI#380407375 "Hatikvah (National Anthem Of Israel)"; Composer: Eli Sibony; ID#122561081 "Tunisian Pot Dance (Short)": Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Beta (BMI); Composer: kesokid, ID #97451515 "Middle East Ident"; Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Alpha (ASCAP); Composer: Alon Marcus (ACUM), IPI#776550702 "Adventures in the East": Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Beta (BMI) Composer: Petar Milinkovic (BMI), IPI#00738313833. ___ Episode Transcript: HEN MAZZIG: They took whatever they had left and they got on a boat. And my grandmother told me this story before she passed away on how they were on this boat coming to Israel. And they were so happy, and they were crying because they felt that finally after generations upon generations of oppression they are going to come to a place where they are going to be protected, and that she was coming home. MANYA BRACHEAR PASHMAN: The world has overlooked an important episode in modern history: the 800,000 Jews who left or were driven from their homes in the Middle East and North Africa in the mid-20th century. Welcome to the second season of The Forgotten Exodus, brought to you by American Jewish Committee. This series explores that pivotal moment in history and the little-known Jewish heritage of Iran and Arab nations. As Jews around the world confront violent antisemitism and Israelis face daily attacks by terrorists on multiple fronts, our second season explores how Jews have lived throughout the region for generations–despite hardship, hostility, and hatred–then sought safety and new possibilities in their ancestral homeland. I'm your host, Manya Brachear Pashman. Join us as we explore untold family histories and personal stories of courage, perseverance, and resilience from this transformative and tumultuous period of history for the Jewish people and the Middle East. The world has ignored these voices. We will not. This is The Forgotten Exodus. Today's episode: leaving Tunisia. __ [Tel Aviv Pride video] MANYA BRACHEAR PASHMAN: Every June, Hen Mazzig, who splits his time between London and Tel Aviv, heads to Israel to show his Pride. His Israeli pride. His LGBTQ+ pride. And his Mizrahi Jewish pride. For that one week, all of those identities coalesce. And while other cities around the world have transformed Pride into a June version of the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, Israel is home to one of the few vibrant LGBTQ communities in the Middle East. Tel Aviv keeps it real. HEN: For me, Pride in Israel, in Tel Aviv, it still has this element of fighting for something. And that it's important for all of us to show up and to come out to the Pride Parade because if we're not going to be there, there's some people with agendas to erase us and we can't let them do it. MANYA: This year, the Tel Aviv Pride rally was a more somber affair as participants demanded freedom for the more than 100 hostages still held in Gaza since October 7th. On that day, Hamas terrorists bent on erasing Jews from the Middle East went on a murderous rampage, killing more than 1,200, kidnapping 250 others, and unleashing what has become a 7-front war on Israel. HEN: In the Israeli DNA and the Jewish DNA we have to fight to be who we are. In every generation, empires and big forces tried to erase us, and we had to fight. And the LGBTQ+ community also knows very well how hard it is. I know what it is to be rejected for several parts of my identity. And I don't want anyone to go through that. I don't want my children to go through that. I'm fighting for my ancestors, but I'm also fighting for our future generation. MANYA: Hen Mazzig is an international speaker, writer, and digital influencer. In 2022, he founded the Tel Aviv Institute, a social media laboratory that tackles antisemitism online. He's also a second-generation Israeli, whose maternal grandparents fled Iraq, while his father's parents fled Tunisia – roots that echo in the family name: Mazzig. HEN: The last name Mazzig never made sense, because in Israel a lot of the last names have meaning in Hebrew. So I remember one of my teachers in school was saying that Mazzig sounds like mozeg, which means pouring in Hebrew. Maybe your ancestors were running a bar or something? Clearly, this teacher did not have knowledge of the Amazigh people. Which, later on I learned, several of those tribes, those Amazigh tribes, were Jewish or practiced Judaism, and that there was 5,000 Jews that came from Tunisia that were holding both identities of being Jewish and Amazigh. And today, they have last names like Mazzig, and Amzaleg, Mizzoug. There's several of those last names in Israel today. And they are the descendants of those Jewish communities that have lived in the Atlas Mountains. MANYA: The Atlas Mountains. A 1,500-mile chain of magnificent peaks and treacherous terrain that stretch across Algeria, Morocco, and Tunisia, separating the Sahara from the Mediterranean and Atlantic coastline. It's where the nomadic Amazigh have called home for thousands of years. The Amazigh trace their origins to at least 2,000 BCE in western North Africa. They speak the language of Tamazight and rely on cattle and agriculture as their main sources of income. But textiles too. In fact, you've probably heard of the Amazigh or own a rug woven by them. A Berber rug. HEN: Amazigh, which are also called Berbers. But they're rejecting this term because of the association with barbarians, which was the title that European colonialists when they came to North Africa gave them. There's beautiful folklore about Jewish leaders within the Amazigh people. One story that I really connected to was the story of Queen Dihya that was also known as El-Kahina, which in Arabic means the Kohen, the priest, and she was known as this leader of the Amazigh tribes, and she was Jewish. Her derrogaters were calling her a Jewish witch, because they said that she had the power to foresee the future. And her roots were apparently connected to Queen Sheba and her arrival from Israel back to Africa. And she was the descendant of Queen Sheba. And that's how she led the Amazigh people. And the stories that I read about her, I just felt so connected. How she had this long, black, curly hair that went all the way down to her knees, and she was fierce, and she was very committed to her identity, and she was fighting against the Islamic expansion to North Africa. And when she failed, after years of holding them off, she realized that she can't do it anymore and she's going to lose. And she was not willing to give up her Jewish identity and convert to Islam and instead she jumped into a well and died. This well is known today in Tunisia. It's the [Bir] Al-Kahina or Dihya's Well that is still in existence. Her descendants, her kids, were Jewish members of the Amazigh people. Of course, I would like to believe that I am the descendant of royalty. MANYA: Scholars debate whether the Amazigh converted to Judaism or descended from Queen Dihya and stayed. Lucette Valensi is a French scholar of Tunisian history who served as a director of studies at the School for Advanced Studies in the Social Sciences in Paris, one of the most prestigious institutions of graduate education in France. She has written extensively about Tunisian Jewish culture. Generations of her family lived in Tunisia. She says archaeological evidence proves Jews were living in that land since Antiquity. LUCETTE VALENSI: I myself am a Chemla, born Chemla. And this is an Arabic name, which means a kind of belt. And my mother's name was Tartour, which is a turban [laugh]. So the names were Arabic. So my ancestors spoke Arabic. I don't know if any of them spoke Berber before, or Latin. I have no idea. But there were Jews in antiquity and of course, through Saint Augustin. MANYA: So when did Jews arrive in Tunisia? LUCETTE: [laugh] That's a strange question because they were there since Antiquity. We have evidence of their presence in mosaics of synagogues, from the times of Byzantium. I think we think in terms of a short chronology, and they would tend to associate the Jews to colonization, which does not make sense, they were there much before French colonization. They were there for millennia. MANYA: Valensi says Jews lived in Tunisia dating to the time of Carthage, an ancient city-state in what is now Tunisia, that reached its peak in the fourth century BCE. Later, under Roman and then Byzantine rule, Carthage continued to play a vital role as a center of commerce and trade during antiquity. Besides the role of tax collectors, Jews were forbidden to serve in almost all public offices. Between the 5th and 8th centuries CE, conditions fluctuated between relief and forced conversions while under Christian rule. After the Islamic conquest of Tunisia in the seventh and early eighth centuries CE, the treatment of Jews largely depended on which Muslim ruler was in charge at the time. Some Jews converted to Islam while others lived as dhimmis, or second-class citizens, protected by the state in exchange for a special tax known as the jizya. In 1146, the first caliph of the Almohad dynasty, declared that the Prophet Muhammad had granted Jews religious freedom for only 500 years, by which time if the messiah had not come, they had to convert. Those who did not convert and even those who did were forced to wear yellow turbans or other special garb called shikra, to distinguish them from Muslims. An influx of Jews expelled from Spain and Portugal arrived in the 14th Century. In the 16th Century, Tunisia became part of the Ottoman Empire, and the situation of Jews improved significantly. Another group who had settled in the coastal Tuscan city of Livorno crossed the Mediterranean in the 17th and 18th centuries to make Tunisia their home. LUCETTE: There were other groups that came, Jews from Italy, Jews from Spain, of course, Spain and Portugal, different periods. 14th century already from Spain and then from Spain and Portugal. From Italy, from Livorno, that's later, but the Jews from Livorno themselves came from Spain. So I myself am named Valensi. From Valencia. It was the family name of my first husband. So from Valencia in Spain they went to Livorno, and from Livorno–Leghorn in English–to Tunisia. MANYA: At its peak, Tunisia's Jewish population exceeded 100,000 – a combination of Sephardi and Mizrahi. HEN: When we speak about Jews from the Middle East and North Africa, specifically in the West, or mainly in the West, we're referring to them as Sephardi. But in Tunisia, it's very interesting to see that there was the Grana community which are Livorno Jews that moved to Tunisia in the 1800s, and they brought the Sephardi way of praying. And that's why I always use the term Mizrahi to describe myself, because I feel like it encapsulates more of my identity. And for me, the Sephardi title that we often use on those communities doesn't feel accurate to me, and it also has the connection to Ladino, which my grandparents never spoke. They spoke Tamazight, Judeo-Tamazight, which was the language of those tribes in North Africa. And my family from my mother's side, from Iraq, they were speaking Judeo-Iraqi-Arabic. So for me, the term Sephardi just doesn't cut it. I go with Mizrahi to describe myself. MANYA: The terms Ashkenazi, Sephardi, and Mizrahi all refer to the places Jews once called home. Ashkenazi Jews hail from Central and Eastern Europe, particularly Germany, Poland, and Russia. They traditionally speak Yiddish, and their customs and practices reflect the influences of Central and Eastern European cultures. Pogroms in Eastern Europe and the Holocaust led many Ashkenazi Jews to flee their longtime homes to countries like the United States and their ancestral homeland, Israel. Mizrahi, which means "Eastern" in Hebrew, refers to the diaspora of descendants of Jewish communities from Middle Eastern countries such as: Iraq, Iran, and Yemen, and North African countries such as: Tunisia, Libya, and Morocco. Ancient Jewish communities that have lived in the region for millennia long before the advent of Islam and Christianity. They often speak dialects of Arabic. Sephardi Jews originate from Spain and Portugal, speaking Ladino and incorporating Spanish and Portuguese cultural influences. Following their expulsion from the Iberian Peninsula in 1492, they settled in regions like North Africa and the Balkans. In Tunisia, the Mizrahi and Sephardi communities lived side by side, but separately. HEN: As time passed, those communities became closer together, still quite separated, but they became closer and closer. And perhaps the reason they were becoming closer was because of the hardship that they faced as Jews. For the leaders of Muslim armies that came to Tunisia, it didn't matter if you were a Sephardi Jew, or if you were an Amazigh Jew. You were a Jew for them. MANYA: Algeria's invasion of Tunisia in the 18th century had a disproportionate effect on Tunisia's Jewish community. The Algerian army killed thousands of the citizens of Tunis, many of whom were Jewish. Algerians raped Jewish women, looted Jewish homes. LUCETTE: There were moments of trouble when you had an invasion of the Algerian army to impose a prince. The Jews were molested in Tunis. MANYA: After a military invasion, a French protectorate was established in 1881 and lasted until Tunisia gained independence in 1956. The Jews of Tunisia felt much safer under the French protectorate. They put a lot of stock in the French revolutionary promise of Liberté, égalité, fraternité. Soon, the French language replaced Judeo-Ara…

    Full show notes at the publisher

    The Forgotten Exodus, Season 2: The Untold Stories of Jews from the Middle East and North Africa Aug 22, 2024
    Show notes

    The multi-award-winning, chart-topping Jewish podcast, The Forgotten Exodus, is back for season two.

    The world has overlooked an important episode in modern history: the 800,000 Jews who left or were driven from their homes in the Middle East and North Africa in the mid-20th century to forge new lives for themselves and future generations.

    The Forgotten Exodus, a limited podcast series by American Jewish Committee (AJC), explores the critical lessons we can learn from this pivotal moment and the little-known Jewish heritage of the Middle East and North Africa. As Jews around the world confront rising antisemitism, hear five new stories of Mizrahi and Sephardi courage, perseverance, and resilience from this transformative and tumultuous period of history for the Jewish people. The world has ignored them. We will not.

    Season 2 premieres August 26, 2024.

    New episodes will be released weekly. Subscribe wherever you listen to your favorite podcasts.

    ___

    Show Notes:

    AJC.org/Podcasts

    Theme song credit: Pond5; Composer: Mayson; ID#279780040

    Transcript:

    MANYA BRACHEAR PASHMAN: The world has forgotten them, but we will not: the 800,000 Jews who left or were driven from their homes in the Middle East and North Africa in the mid-20th century. American Jewish Committee presents the second season of its award-winning podcast, The Forgotten Exodus. As Jews around the world confront antisemitism, this season explores how Jews lived among their Arab neighbors until they no longer safely could.

    HEN MAZZIG: They completely destroyed the Tunis Jewish quarter and my family decided to leave.

    MANYA: Others sought new paths, only to discover the homes they left behind did not always welcome them back. When countries turned hostile toward Jews, many sought refuge in Israel, to their ancestral homeland.

    HEN: And they took whatever they had left. And they got on a boat coming to Israel. To a place where they are going to be protected.

    MANYA: Whether they landed in Israel or elsewhere in the diaspora, these Jews forged new lives for themselves and future generations. Join Hen Mazzig, Adiel Cohen, and others as we remember The Forgotten Exodus.


    Vote for The Forgotten Exodus at the Webby Awards Apr 17, 2023
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    The Forgotten Exodus has been nominated for a Webby Award, also known as "the Internet's highest honor" — but we need your help to win!

    Click here to vote for The Forgotten Exodus for "Best Limited Podcast Series." It takes less than a minute. Voting ends at 11:59 p.m. PDT on April 20, 2023.

    The Forgotten Exodus is the first-ever narrative podcast series devoted exclusively to the fascinating and often-overlooked history of Mizrahi and Sephardic Jewry from Arab countries and Iran.

    Created by American Jewish Committee (AJC), the series debuted as the top-ranked Jewish podcast in America last August.

    Please make sure that these fascinating and impactful stories reach an even wider audience. Vote for the series now.

    ____

    Show notes:

    Pond5:

    • "Arabic (Middle Eastern Music)"; Composer: Andrei Skliarov; Item ID # 152407112

    Vote now: AJC.org/Webby

    Listen to "The Forgotten Exodus": AJC.org/ForgottenExodus


    Iran Sep 06, 2022
    Show notes

    Home to one of the world's oldest Jewish communities, the story of Jews in Iran has been one of prosperity and suffering through the millennia. During the mid-20th century, when Jews were being driven from their homes in Arab lands, Iran assisted Jewish refugees in providing safe passage to Israel. Under the Shah, Israel was an important economic and political ally. Yet that all swiftly changed in the 1979 Iranian Revolution, which ushered in Islamic rule, while chants of "Death to Israel" and "Death to America" rang out from the streets of Tehran. Author, journalist, and poet Roya Hakakian shares her personal story of growing up Jewish in Iran during the reign of the Shah and then Ayatollah Khomeini, which she wrote about in her memoir Journey From the Land of No. Joining Hakakian is Dr. Saba Soomekh, a professor of world religions and Middle Eastern history who wrote From the Shahs to Los Angeles: Three Generations of Iranian Jewish Women between Religion and Culture. She also serves as associate director of AJC Los Angeles, home to America's largest concentration of Persian Jewish immigrants. In this sixth and final episode of the season, the Hakakian family's saga captures the common thread that has run throughout this series – when the history of an uprooted community is left untold, it can become vulnerable to others' narratives and assumptions, or become lost forever and forgotten. How do you leave behind a beloved homeland, safeguard its Jewish legacy, and figure out where you belong? ___ Show notes: Sign up to receive podcast updates here. Learn more about the series here. Song credits: Chag Purim · The Jewish Guitar Project Hevenu Shalom · Violin Heart Pond5: "Desert Caravans": Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Beta (BMI), Composer: Tiemur Zarobov (BMI), IPI#1098108837 "Oud Nation": Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Beta (BMI); Composer: Haygaz Yossoulkanian (BMI), IPI#1001905418 "Persian": Publisher: STUDEO88; Composer: Siddhartha Sharma "Meditative Middle Eastern Flute": Publisher: N/; Composer: DANIELYAN ASHOT MAKICHEVICH (IPI NAME #00855552512), UNITED STATES BMI Zarobov (BMI), IPI#1098108837 "Sentimental Oud Middle Eastern": Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Beta (BMI), Composer: Sotirios Bakas (BMI), IPI#797324989. "Frontiers": Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Beta (BMI); Composer: Pete Checkley (BMI), IPI#380407375 "Persian Investigative Mystery": Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Beta (BMI); Composer: Peter Cole (BMI), IPI#679735384 "Persian Wind": Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Sigma (SESAC); Composer: Abbas Premjee (SESAC), IPI#572363837 "Modern Middle Eastern Underscore": Publisher: All Pro Audio LLC (611803484); Composer: Alan T Fagan (347654928) "Persian Fantasy Tavern": Publisher: N/A; Composer: John Hoge "Adventures in the East": Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Beta (BMI) Composer: Petar Milinkovic (BMI), IPI#00738313833. ___ Episode Transcript: ROYA HAKAKIAN: In 1984, when my mother and I left and my father was left alone in Iran, that was yet another major dramatic and traumatic separation. When I look back at the events of 1979, I think, people constantly think about the revolution having, in some ways, blown up Tehran, but it also blew up families. And my own family was among them. MANYA BRACHEAR PASHMAN: The world has overlooked an important episode in modern history: the 800,000 Jews who left or were driven from their homes in Arab nations and Iran in the mid-20th century. This series, brought to you by American Jewish Committee, explores that pivotal moment in Jewish history and the rich Jewish heritage of Iran and Arab nations as some begin to build relations with Israel. I'm your host, Manya Brachear Pashman. Join us as we explore family histories and personal stories of courage, perseverance, and resilience. This is The Forgotten Exodus. Today's episode: Leaving Iran MANYA: Outside Israel, Iran has the largest Jewish population in the Middle East. Yes, the Islamic Republic of Iran. In 2022. Though there is no official census, experts estimate about 10,000 Jews now live in the region previously known as Persia. But since the 1979 Iranian Revolution, Jews in Iran don't advertise their Jewish identity. They adhere to Iran's morality code: women stay veiled from head to toe and men and women who aren't married or related stay apart in public. They don't express support for Israel, they don't ask questions, and they don't disagree with the regime. One might ask, with all these don'ts, is this a way of living a Jewish life? Or a way to live – period? For author, journalist, and poet Roya Hakakian and her family, the answer was ultimately no. Roya has devoted her life to being a fact-finder and truth-teller. A former associate producer at the CBS news show 60 Minutes and a Guggenheim Fellow, Roya has written two volumes of poetry in Persian and three books of nonfiction in English, the first of which was published in 2004 – Journey From the Land of No, a memoir about her charmed childhood and accursed adolescence growing up Jewish in Iran under two different regimes. ROYA: It was hugely important for me to create an account that could be relied on as a historic document. And I did my best through being very, very careful about gathering, interviewing, talking to, observing facts, evidence, documents from everyone, including my most immediate members of my family, to do what we, both as reporters, but also as Jews, are called to do, which is to bear witness. No seemed to be the backdrop of life for women, especially of religious minorities, and, in my own case, Jewish background, and so I thought, what better way to name the book than to call it as what my experience had been, which was the constant nos that I heard. So, Land of No was Iran. MANYA: As a journalist, as a Jew, as a daughter of Iran, Roya will not accept no for an answer. After publishing her memoir, she went on to write Assassins of the Turquoise Palace, a meticulously reported book about a widely underreported incident. In 1992 at a Berlin restaurant, a terrorist attack by the Iranian proxy Hezbollah targeted and killed four Iranian-Kurdish exiles. The book highlighted Iran's enormous global footprint made possible by its terror proxies who don't let international borders get in the way of silencing Iran's critics. Roya also co-founded the Iran Human Rights Documentation Center, an independent non-profit that reports on Iran's human rights abuses. Her work has not prompted Ayatollah Khameini to publicly issue a fatwa against her – like the murder order against Salman Rushdie issued by his predecessor. But in 2019, one of her teenage sons answered a knock at the door. It was the FBI, warning her that she was in the crosshairs of the Iranian regime's operatives in America. Most recently, Roya wrote A Beginner's Guide to America: For the Immigrant and the Curious about the emotional roller coaster of arriving in America while still missing a beloved homeland, especially one where their community has endured for thousands of years. ROYA: I felt very strongly that one stays in one's homeland, that you don't just simply take off when things go wrong, that you stick around and try to figure a way through a bad situation. We came to the point where staying didn't seem like it would lead to any sort of real life and leaving was the only option. MANYA: The story of Jews in Iran, often referred to as Persia until 1935, is a millennia-long tale. A saga of suffering, repression, and persecution, peppered with brief moments of relief or at least relative peace – as long as everyone plays by the rules of the regime. SABA SOOMEKH: The history of Jews in Iran goes back to around 2,700 years ago. And a lot of people assume that Jews came to Iran, well at that time, it was called the Persian Empire, in 586 BCE, with the Babylonian exile. But Jews actually came a lot earlier, we're thinking 721-722 BCE with the Assyrian exile which makes us one of the oldest Jewish communities. MANYA: That's Dr. Saba Soomekh, a professor of world religions and Middle Eastern history and the author of From the Shahs to Los Angeles: Three Generations of Iranian Jewish Women between Religion and Culture. She also serves as associate director of American Jewish Committee in Los Angeles, home to America's largest concentration of Persian Jewish immigrants. Saba's parents fled Iran in 1978, shortly before the revolution, when Saba and her sister were toddlers. She has devoted her career to preserving Iranian Jewish history. Saba said Zoroastrian rulers until the 7th Century Common Era vacillated between tolerance and persecution of Jews. For example, according to the biblical account in the Book of Ezra, Cyrus the Great freed the Jews from Babylonian rule, granted all of them citizenship, and permitted them to return to Jerusalem to rebuild their Temple. The Book of Esther goes on to tell the story of another Persian king, believed to be Xerxes I, whose closest adviser called Haman conspires to murder all the Jews – a plot that is foiled by his wife Queen Esther who is Jewish herself. Esther heroically pleads for mercy on behalf of her people – a valor that is celebrated on the Jewish holiday of Purim. But by the time of the Islamic conquest in the middle of the 7th Century Common Era, the persecution had become so intense that Jews were hopeful about the new Arab Muslim regime, even if that meant being tolerated and treated as second-class citizens, or dhimmi status. But that status had a different interpretation for the Safavids. SABA: Really things didn't get bad for the Jews of the Persian Empire until the 16th century with the Safavid dynasty, because within Shia Islam in the Persian Empire, what they brought with them is this understanding of purity and impurity. And Jews were placed in the same category as dogs, pigs, and feces. They were seen as being religiously impure, what's referred to as najes. MANYA: Jews were placed in ghettos called mahaleh, where they wore yellow stars and special shoes to distinguish them from the rest of the population. They could not leave the mahaleh when it rained for fear that if water rolled off their bodies into the water system, it would render a Shia Muslim impure. For the same reason, they could not go to the bazaars for fear they might contaminate the food. They could not look Muslims in the eye. They were relegated to certain artisanal professions such as silversmithing and block printing – crafts that dirtied one's hands. MANYA: By the 19th century, some European Jews did make their way to Persia to help. The Alliance Israélite Universelle, a Paris-based network of schools founded by French Jewish intellectuals, opened schools for Jewish children throughout the Middle East and North Africa, including within the mahalehs in Persia. SABA: They saw themselves as being incredibly sophisticated because they were getting this, in a sense, secular European education, they were speaking French. The idea behind the Allianz schools was exactly that. These poor Middle Eastern Jews, one day the world is going to open up to them, their countries are going to become secular, and we need to prepare them for this, not only within the context of hygiene, but education, language. And the Allianz schools were right when it came to the Persian Empire because who came into power was Reza Pahlavi, who was a Francophile. And he turned around and said, 'Wow! Look at the population that speaks French, that knows European philosophy, etc. are the Jews.' He brought them out of the mahaleh, the Jewish ghettos, and said 'I don't care about religion. Assimilate and acculturate. As long as you show, in a sense, devotion, and nationalism to the Pahlavi regime, which the Jews did—not all Jews—but a majority of them did. MANYA: Reza Pahlavi took control in 1925 and 16 years later, abdicated his throne to his son Muhammad Reza Pahlavi. In 1935, Persia adopted a new name: Iran. As king or the Shah, both father and son set Iran on a course of secularization and rapid modernization under which Jewish life and success seemed to flourish. The only condition was that religious observance was kept behind closed doors. SABA: The idea was that in public, you were secular and in private, you were a Jew. You had Shabbat, you only married a Jew, it was considered blasphemous if you married outside of the Jewish community. And it was happening because people were becoming a part of everyday schools, universities. But that's why the Jewish day schools became so important. They weren't learning Judaism. What it did was ensure that in a secular Muslim society, that the Jewish kids were marrying within each other and within the community. It was, in a sense, the Golden Age. And that will explain to you why, unlike the early 1950s, where you had this exodus of Mizrahi Jews, Arab Jews from the Arab world and North Africa, you didn't really have that in Iran. MANYA: In fact, Iran provided a safe passage to Israel for Jewish refugees during that exodus, specifically those fleeing Iraq. The Pahlavi regime considered Israel a critical ally in the face of pan-Arab fervor and hostility in the region. Because of the Arab economic boycott, Israel needed energy sources and Iran needed customers for its oil exports. A number of Israelis even moved to Tehran, including farmers from kibbutzim who had come to teach agriculture, and doctors and nurses from Hadassah Hospital who had come to teach medicine. El Al flew in and out of Tehran airport, albeit from a separate terminal. Taking advantage of these warm relations between the two countries, Roya recalls visiting aunts, uncles, and cousins in Israel. ROYA: We arrived, and my mom and dad did what all visiting Jews from elsewhere do. They dropped to their knees, and they started kissing the ground. I did the same, and it was so moving. Israel was the promised land, we thought about Israel, we dreamed about Israel. But, at the same time, we were Iranians and, and we were living in Iran, and things were good. This seems to non-Iranian Jews an impossibility. But I think for most of us, it was the way things were. We lived in the country where we had lived for, God knows how many years, and there was this other place that we somehow, in the back of our minds thought we would be going to, without knowing exactly when, but that it would be the destination. MANYA: Relations between the Shah and America flourished as well. In 1951, a hugely popular politician by the name of Mohammad Mosaddegh became prime minister and tried to institute reforms. His attempts to nationalize the oil industry and reduce the monarchy's authority didn't go over well. American and British intelligence backed a coup that restored the Shah's power. Many Iranians resented America's meddling, which became a rallying cry for the revolution. U.S. officials have since expressed regret for the CIA's involvement. In November 1977, President Jimmy Carter welcomed the Shah and his wife to Washington, D.C., to discuss peace between Egypt and Israel, nuclear nonproliferation, and the energy crisis. As an extension of these warm relations, the Shah sent many young Iranians to America to enhance their university studies, exposing them to Western ideals and values. Meanwhile, a savvy fundamentalist cleric was biding his time in a Paris basement. It wouldn't be long before relations crumbled between Iran and Israel, Iran and the U.S,. and Iran and its Jews. Roya recalls the Hakakian house at the corner of Alley of the Distinguished in Tehran as a lush oasis surrounded by fragrant flowers, full of her father's poetry, and brimming with family memories. Lo…

    Full show notes at the publisher

    Sudan Aug 29, 2022
    Show notes

    Financier, philanthropist, and longtime president of the World Sephardi Federation Nessim Gaon was proud of the Sudanese birthright that made him part of a long lineage of Jews from Arab lands. However, with growing antisemitism in Sudan, he also believed Israel offered the only safe haven for Jews around the world and devoted his life to constantly improving the Zionist project. Gaon's oldest grandchild, Dr. Alexandra Herzog, deputy director of Contemporary Jewish Life for American Jewish Committee, shares the story of her grandfather's flight from Sudan, his quest for equality in Israel, and his pursuit of peace between the Jewish state and Arab nations that led to the historic 1979 accord between Israel and Egypt. Along with Dr. Herzog, oral historian Daisy Abboudi describes great changes in Sudan that take place during the late 19th and early 20th centuries, which saw the country emerge from a period of Islamic extremism to a land of possibilities for Jewish pioneers. However, this brief window of openness closes once again as Gaon's cousins, Diana Krief and Flore Eleini, describe how following Israel's victory in the 1967 Six-Day War, Sudan once again became a terrifying place to be a Jew. ___ Show notes: Sign up to receive podcast updates here. Learn more about the series here. Song credits: Saza Niye Glemedin; Penceresi Yola Karsi: all by Turku, Nomads of the Silk Road Pond5: "Desert Caravans": Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Beta (BMI), Composer: Tiemur Zarobov (BMI), IPI#1098108837 "Hatikvah (National Anthem Of Israel, Electric Guitar)"; Composer: Composer: Eli Sibony; ID#122561081 "Frontiers": Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Beta (BMI); Composer: Pete Checkley (BMI), IPI#380407375 "Adventures in the East": Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Beta (BMI) Composer: Petar Milinkovic (BMI), IPI#00738313833. "A Middle East Lament": Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Alpha (ASCAP); Composer: Dan Cullen (PRS), IPI#551977321 "Mystic Anatolia": Publisher: Pond5 Publishing Alpha (ASCAP); Composer: Okan Akdeniz (MSG), IPI#37747892568 "Modern Middle Eastern Underscore": Publisher: All Pro Audio LLC (611803484); Composer: Alan T Fagan (347654928) "Fields Of Elysium"; Publisher: Mysterylab Music; Composer: Mott Jordan; ID#79549862 ___ Episode Transcript: ALEXANDRA HERZOG: Oftentimes, I asked him, would you want to go visit Sudan? If you could, would you? And you know, he would tell me, 'Well, I have this image in my head. And I want to keep it that way.' And I think that it was so loaded for him in terms of memories, in terms of, you know, vibrancy of life and I think he wanted to keep it as this frozen image. MANYA BRACHEAR PASHMAN: The world has overlooked an important episode in modern history: the 800,000 Jews who left or were driven from their homes in Arab nations and Iran in the mid-20th century. This series, brought to you by American Jewish Committee, explores that pivotal moment in Jewish history and the rich Jewish heritage of Iran and Arab nations as some begin to build relations with Israel. I'm your host, Manya Brachear Pashman. Join us as we explore family histories and personal stories of courage, perseverance, and resilience. This is The Forgotten Exodus. Today's episode: Leaving Sudan MANYA: When Diana Krief and her 95-year-old mother Flore Eleini look back on their family's life in Sudan, they conjure dark memories. Flore remembers enjoying afternoon tea outside with her mother-in-law when soldiers armed with bayonets stormed the garden. FLORE ELEINI: Life was normal, life was good. And then, little by little. it deteriorated. We were the very, very last Jews to stay in the Sudan. And then, after the Six Day War, of course, they came, you know, in the street, they were shouting, kill, kill, kill, kill the Jews, kill, kill, kill the Jews. And one day, I thought it was our end. MANYA: Her daughter Diana remembers soldiers raiding their house and posters of decapitated Jews outside their home. DIANA KRIEF: It's actually by others that I came to know that I was Jewish, that I was a Jew, you know, born in a Jewish family. They used to come in front of the house with posters of Jews in the Mediterranean Sea with their heads cut off, and blood everywhere. That's the first time I had actually seen the land of Israel. I didn't know that we had a land before. And it was "itbah" the whole time. And even when we would put the radio on, they would sing"itbah itbah al yahud." That means "slaughter, slaughter the Jews". And this always stayed in my memory. MANYA: In 1968, Flore and Diana were among the last Jews to flee Khartoum, the capital city of Sudan. They followed a path to Geneva blazed by Flore's cousin, Nessim Gaon, a financier and philanthropist born and raised in Sudan who had moved from Khartoum to Switzerland a decade earlier. Gaon, who died in May 2022 at the age of 100, was a legend in modern Jewish history. As a longtime president of the World Sephardi Federation, he worked to raise the profile of Sephardic Jews around the world and level the playing field for them in Israel – where Arabic speaking Mizrahi and Sephardi Jews were often looked down upon. On the contrary, Gaon believed they offered Israel a gift – a link between the Jewish state and their former homes in the Arab world. Gaon himself offered a shining example. He persuaded his dear friend, Israeli Prime Minister Menachem Begin to meet with Egyptian President Anwar el-Sadat, which led to the historic 1979 accord between Israel and Egypt – the first peace treaty between Israel and an Arab nation. ALEXANDRA: For him when Israel was built, it really was like a miracle. He really, truly believed in the possibilities that Israel could offer. He also realized that Sephardic Jews could play a role in creating a bridge between Israel and the Arab countries, and that they would be able to help in creating peace or at least creating dialogue between some of those countries. And that's really what he did in his conversations with Anwar el-Sadat and Menachem Begin. MANYA: That's Gaon's oldest grandchild, Dr. Alexandra Herzog, who now serves as the deputy director of Contemporary Jewish Life for American Jewish Committee. As her last name indicates, her mother Marguerite, Gaon's daughter, married into the Herzog dynasty. Alexandra's paternal grandfather was former Israeli president Chaim Herzog, and her uncle Isaac Herzog, is the Israeli president today. But in addition to that proud legacy, Alexandra is especially proud of the impact her maternal grandfather made in helping Sephardi and Mizrahi Jews – a slight majority of Israel's Jewish population, but a significant majority of its Jewish poor – thrive, succeed, and lead in the Jewish state. Gaon was the driving force behind Project Renewal, an initiative launched in the 1970s to rehabilitate some of Israel's most distressed neighborhoods and improve education and social services there. He developed a bar mitzvah program that provided the education, ceremony, and gifts for thousands of underprivileged boys. And tens of thousands of young Sephardi leaders from impoverished neighborhoods received university scholarships. ALEXANDRA: A lot of the people who came out of this program are actually mayors or members of the Knesset – important people in Israel who actually have, as a ripple effect, a strong impact on the lives of other people as well. MANYA: The history of Sudan's once tiny and tight-knit Jewish community is limited to the late 19th and early 20th centuries – a brief window when it was safe to be Jewish in that Northeast African country. But the Sudanese diaspora's connection to that country runs unusually deep. Sudan, Egypt's neighbor to the south, was much more than a waystation during the age of migration. It was a land of possibilities. Even if their forefathers spent centuries elsewhere, their descendants today often identify with the fleeting generations spent in Sudan. DAISY ABBOUDI: If you speak to people who were there, and you say, where are you from, they will say, Sudan, in a very proud, but definitive way. MANYA: That's Daisy Abboudi, a London-based oral historian of Sudanese Jewish history, who began her career by interviewing her own grandparents. DAISY: Sudanese is very much part of their identity and their descendants kind of focus on Sudan. And I know, there's this kind of phenomena from around the Middle East – a kind of nostalgia of looking back. There's kind of an inherited nostalgia that exists as well. But it's particularly strong in Sudan for a country where people didn't have thousands of years of roots. And I'm kind of always wondering, why? Why has it got this pull? MANYA: The reason could be embedded in the history of Sudan and the pioneering spirit of the Jews who landed in this rustic pocket of Northeast Africa, where the Blue and White Nile Rivers converged, the constellations shone brightly in the night sky, and the scent of jasmine and gardenia floated in the air. In the early 19th century, Sudanese and Egyptian residents lived under Ottoman rule. Jews in Egypt – and the few there might have been in Sudan – faced harsh taxes. But that changed toward the end of the 19th century, as the Ottoman Empire fell, and British forces took over Egypt, before moving south. With them came Christian missionaries who intended to "civilize" the tribes there. An opposition and independence movement began to build, led by a self-proclaimed Mahdi, who claimed to be the foretold redeemer of the Islamic nation. The 1966 epic film, Khartoum, depicts the infamous 1884 Siege of Khartoum, in which the Mahdi, portrayed by Hollywood superstar Laurence Olivier, defeated the popular British General Charles Gordon, played by another Hollywood legend of Ten Commandments fame, Charlton Heston. DAISY: When this independence movement starts, it's led by a man who calls himself the Mahdi, which means the kind of chosen one, and he wins, basically. He conquers Sudan quite quickly and then promptly dies of malaria and his successor takes over. But this period of independence, once it was established, is called the Mahdia, after the Mahdi. It was an Islamic state, basically in that it was quite extremist. All the non-Muslim people living in Sudan had to convert to Islam. This was a law that was targeted at the missionaries who were there, but of course these Jews that were living there got caught up in that policy. MANYA: When the British conquered the Mahdi in 1898, that conversion law was revoked, and some converts reverted back to Judaism. The British built a railway line to supply the army and connect Egypt to Khartoum, the capital of the dual British-Egyptian colony. And soon, Sudan became a destination for Jewish families who sought to build economic opportunities from the ground up. DAISY: It was a kind of a mercantile community, a lot of shops, import-exports, cloth, gum Arabic, hibiscus. A couple of families grew and then traded hibiscus, which was like the main ingredient in cough syrup at the time. Don't forget, at that time, Sudan was very new – Khartoum especially, in terms of on the map in terms of European consciousness, obviously not new in terms of how long it's actually been there. But it was kind of seen or perceived as this new frontier. It was a bit off the beaten track. There wasn't the mod cons or luxuries even of the day. So, it was people who were willing to take a little bit of a risk and dive into the unknown who would actually go to Sudan. MANYA: According to historian Naham Ilan, though the community was deeply traditional, it was largely secular and introduced many of Sudan's modern conveniences. Morris Goldenberg from Cairo was the first optician in Khartoum. Jimmy and Toni Cain, refugees from Germany, ran a music hall and cabaret. Jewish students attended private Christian schools. By 1906, the Jewish community of Egypt invited Rabbi Solomon Malka, a Moroccan rabbi who was ordained in British Mandate Palestine, to lead Sudan's Jewish community. He was supposed to stay for only a few years, but instead stayed and purchased his own manufacturing plants, producing sesame oil and macaroni. His son Eli would later write the foundational history of the community titled Jacob's Children in the Land of the Mahdi: Jews of the Sudan. DAISY: When Rabbi Malka came, he was the shochet, he was the mohel, he was the rabbi. He was everything, it was a one-man band. The community was already kind of focused in Khartoum in 1928 when the synagogue was built. The club was built in 1947. I think the peak in terms of numbers of the community was early to mid-1950s. And that was about 250 families. So even at its peak, it was a very small community. MANYA: Community is the key word. Everyone knew each other, looked out for each other, and when Israel was created in 1948, they raised money to help some of their fellow Jews seek opportunities in that new frontier. Those who left weren't fleeing Sudan – not yet. That shift didn't happen for at least another decade. When things did start to turn, Nessim Gaon would lead the exodus. He had seen what could happen when Jews ignored warning signs and stayed where they were unwelcome for too long. Gaon's family arrived in the early 20th Century when his father got a job working as a clerk for the British governor of Port Sudan. Gaon was born in Khartoum in 1922. ALEXANDRA: As for a lot of Sephardi families, they basically moved with opportunities and changes of power in different countries. So they went from Spain, to Italy, back to Spain. And then they went into the Arab lands. So I know that they went into Iraq, then they went into Turkey. And they spent quite some time actually in Turkey, until they finally went to Sudan and Egypt. MANYA: As a young man, Gaon left to attend the London School of Economics. Shortly after he returned, he encountered British officers recruiting soldiers to fight for Winston Churchill's campaign against the Nazis. ALEXANDRA: He just went in, signed up, and the next day, he was sent to the front. His family was not so excited about that. And he was actually under age, he wasn't really supposed to be able to sign up at that time. But when they figured out his age, you know, in the army, it was already too late. He just felt that he needed to be useful and do something. And that's what he did. MANYA: Though he knew about the uneasy life for Jews in Sudan preceding his family's arrival there, what Gaon witnessed during World War II while stationed in places like Iraq ensured he would never take for granted his safety as a Jew. ALEXANDRA: Even though he never spoke about all of the things that he saw in great detail, he did a lot after the war, to help survivors go to Israel. It was very important to him to try to help those who had survived to actually go into a place of safety. He knew what it meant to be a Jew in danger. MANYA: Gaon and his future wife of 68 years, Renee [Tamman], exchanged letters every day when he was away at war and kept every single one. And after his return, from that point on, they never spent more than three days apart. The couple soon began to build their family. But because of rudimentary medical care in Sudan, it was difficult. Three of their children died before their daughter Marguerite was born in 1956. They were buried in Khartoum's Jewish cemetery. Sudan became independent in 1956. But the ties to Egypt ran deep. Later that year, when French, British, and Israeli forces attacked Egypt over Gamel Abdel Nasser's nationalization of the Suez Canal, the anti-Jewish tensions trickled south. DAISY: The Suez Crisis, in the end of 1956, kind of spikes a bi…

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