Thursday, January 25, 2018

The Jews Were Expelled from Egypt

This article is a rebuttal of Mr. Eyal Sagui Bizawe’s recently published article in Haaretz, “Were Egypt’s Jews Really Expelled?”

An edited and abridged version of this article was published in Haaretz newspaper, on October 8, 2017:

Our Passports Were Stamped "Exit With No Return":
The Real Story of How Egypt Expelled Its Jews

By Israel Bonan 
submitted September 2017

My name is Israel Bonan, and I currently reside in the United States. I was born in Egypt, and so were both my parents. In 1967, while the Six-Day War was raging between Israel and Egypt, I was jailed for being a Jew, and deported—that is, expelled with a passport stamped “Exit with No Return.”
In response to Mr. Bizawe’s request to hear firsthand accounts, I’d like to offer the narrative of my experience, “A Personal Exodus Story,” a copy of which is archived with the Department for the Rights of Jews from Arab Countries, along with many narratives from Mizrahi Jews (Jews from Arab lands) who chose to recount their personal traumatic experiences.
http://www.hsje.org/mystory/IsraelBonan/A_Perosnal_Exodus_Story.htmlIf Mr. Bizawe had troubled himself to search the internet, he would have stumbled on these accounts unaided and discovered a few more on the website of the Historical Society of Jews from Egypt (HSJE.org).
The author instead found it more convenient to confess to not being a historian while deciding to posit and theorize with a minimum amount of research, accept his own postulations as true, and reach unsupported conclusions. And I asked myself why. It did not take long to figure it out. Mr. Bizawe has a couple of bones to pick: first with his own kith and kin, whom he wishes to chastise for exaggerations and slanting the Mizrahi narrative with borrowed terminology, just to gain acceptance to the collective narrative of Jewish persecution; second with the newly initiated Mizrahi history curriculum as it stands, which he asserts is full of unsubstantiated claims and possible propaganda!
A pretty cynical perspective, and one I wish to counter.
I will answer his probing mind with factual and firsthand information on most of the issues he raised that I find myself in disagreement with.
To summarize Mr. Bizawe’s salient arguments:
  •  Jews in Egypt were not expelled because they were Jews.
  •  In 1948, they were expelled for being Zionists or Communists.
  •  In 1956, they were expelled for being French or British citizens.
  •  There were still Jews in Egypt in the 1960s, and Jews who wished to leave left at their own convenience.
  •  There is no reason to suggest there was an expulsion of “Egyptian Jewry,” in historical terms, when members of other communities were expelled as well.
“[I]t’s indisputable that most of Egypt’s Jews were not expelled...they were also not the only ones expelled.”
So, according to Mr. Bizawe, the “expulsion of Egyptian Jewry” is simply a manifestation of Egyptian Jews’ desire to be included in the collective narrative of Jewish persecution.
“[A]ll they wanted was recognition of the trauma of expulsion. Like me, they've sought their personal story in the collective narrative...”

Rebuttal

The author takes issue with the fact that the persecution aspects of the Mizrahi Jews are suddenly peppered with descriptive terms that are reminiscent of the Holocaust and the Palestinian narratives (e.g., pogroms, concentration camps, Nakba).
What have we, as Jews, learned from the Holocaust trauma? I am sure we’ve heard the “never again” slogan. What does it really mean, beside the obvious, that Jews will not let such an experience repeat again?
The slogan’s call to action, for me, means one thing of crucial import: we, as Jews, do not need to wait for another six million to die before we call out injustice and evil.
The campaign the Mizrahi Jews undertook—the Justice for Jews from Arab Countries (JJAC) International Rights and Redress Campaign (justiceforjews.com)—was intended to call out what happened to us as injustice and evil, and to bring attention to it. It needed to be accounted for in the historical narrative of the period.
I have also, since the start of the Mizrahi JJAC campaign, taken to public speaking, expressing my own experience embodied in the overall Mizrahi narrative, to a variety audiences (more than three dozen lectures, so far).
I remember myself, at one point, having to labor over how I should refer to organized riots targeted against the Jewish community. Lo and behold, that is the definition of pogrom. So, I compromised and added both designations, with the term pogrom being much more readily understood by the audience in this context.
But the author does not only mock the use of the word pogrom, he goes a step further—he questions whether these pogroms were directed at Jews at all, and he cites the 1952 Cairo riots.
“[T]he 1952 Cairo riots known as the Cairo fire, it’s difficult to state that it was a clearly anti-Jewish event.”
My dear sir, the 1952 Cairo riots had nothing to do with the Jews of Egypt, though the rioters still didn’t miss a beat and burned and looted many Jewish department stores that day (to wit, the Cicurel department store, pictured burned in your article). You needed to look elsewhere—e.g., the Cairo and Alexandria riots from 1945 (on the anniversary of the Balfour Declaration) to 1948 (the creation of the State of Israel). Was it too inconvenient for you to further research the topic? Was it easier, instead, to reach conclusions based on faulty information?
During the period from 1945 to 1948, in Cairo and Alexandria, riots and targeted bombings of the Jewish community and Jewish businesses resulted in 108 unprosecuted deaths, injuries in the hundreds, and the looting and razing of over 200 Jewish businesses.
The author also takes issue with the use of the term concentration camps to refer to detention camps, which is his preferred “non-European” terminology. Such a genteel and civilized, and a truly Mizrahi, terminology. “Detention camps”: three meals a day, a private bathroom and shower accommodations, a fluffy bed and a nice pillow, with conjugal visits...
Mr. Bizawe, these were jails, and some of these jails were hard-labor jails, where some four dozen Jewish inmates to a cell slept and spent their days (for their first six months of incarceration), sleeping head to toe.
Hard-labor jails, where “exercising” was mandatory: running in circles while being whipped and chanting anti-Israel slogans. Jails, where in front of the collective group of Jewish inmates, a brother was ordered to undress and sodomize his own brother, in front of their father, who almost died of a heart attack on the spot. Jails where fathers, brothers, and sons denied each other, so they would not suffer similar consequences.
(http://hsje.org/mystory/marc_kheder/mylife.html).
Call them what you will (concentration camps, detention camps...), and complain if you must; after all, what’s in a name?
Next, the author takes issue when Mizrahi Jews from Egypt refer to their ordeal as Nakba, an Arabic word denoting a calamity.
While I can understand that the use of the term is more for the benefit of the Arab world, and the Palestinians in particular, to convey that we too, as Mizrahi Jews, were visited with a calamity, I personally cringe whenever I hear the term in conjunction with the Mizrahi experience.
A calamity is only a calamity when your response to it is to accept victimhood; we, the Mizrahi Jews, did not accept passive victimhood. We survived the trauma and prospered, with the help of many; and YES, with the help of Israel too, no propaganda forthcoming, I am afraid—just the facts. Our expulsion, which I’ll get to shortly, was an emancipating moment for us.
Does it come as a surprise to you, sir, that Mizrahi Jews can have different opinions about any topic? You ought to consider that a strength, not a weakness.
Finally, we address the conclusion reached in Mr. Bizawe’s article: that in the case of the Jewish community of Egypt, it is not “...a full-fledged expulsion...”
Sure, the author opines, some were expelled, some suffered, but was it expulsion in the same vein as the “expulsion of Spanish Jewry,” the author asks. Then he proceeded, with a vulgar lack of empathy, to ridicule the issue and show a venom unworthy even of himself; and here I’d like to insert his paragraph, in its entirety:
“We can imagine rows of hooded soldiers gathering Egyptian Jews in Cairo’s Tahrir Square and giving them two options: convert to Islam or be expelled. Or even not giving them the choice but expelling them all. But such an event simply never occurred.”
What is the definition of the word expulsion? According to Google’s Dictionary, it is this: “The process of forcing someone to leave a place, especially a country.”
A process usually entails more than one step to accomplish a purpose. So, let me start with the “expulsion of Spanish Jewry.”
King Ferdinand II and Queen Isabella issued the Alhambra Decree. The edict gave the Jewish community in Spain four months to choose between three basic choices:
  1. Convert to Christianity to keep all your assets and remain in Spain.
  2. Leave Spain with your possessions, less any precious metals.
  3. Remain and be executed.
So the Jews of Spain were offered a choice to convert, leave, or die. Mr. Bizawe would have us think, according to his logic, that the Jews of Spain chose to leave of their own volition, simply because they could have chosen to convert (which some did) or die!
Don’t we also know that after the Muslims lost their last stronghold in Spain, they were also given three choices a few years later? The first two choices were identical to the ones already covered, with third choice being enslavement in lieu of death.
So, there we have it, more than just Jews were dispossessed and expelled from Spain around the same time frame!
Mr. Bizawe would have us believe that for an event to be considered a genuine Jewish persecution experience, it could not be experienced by anyone else.
Will he then also debunk the expulsion of the Spanish Jewry? Would the Spanish expulsion also be part of the collective Jewish “persecution obsession” that kept the “myth” of the Jewish expulsion alive for 500 years?
Something tells me he wouldn’t. I call that a double standard.
So, what was the process used to expel the Jews and other minorities from Egypt? These steps spanned many years, promoted by successive governments all marching to the tune of an “Egypt is for the Egyptians” dictum.
The process follows the same pattern of Nazi Germany. I suppose all forms of fascisms behave alike—as to who borrowed from whom, it’s irrelevant. The templates are one and the same, give or take: loss of citizenship rights and protection, loss of jobs in the private and public sectors, no prospect for future employment, dispossession of assets, death, and expatriation/expulsion.
In 1929 Egypt enacted a nationality law that stripped the great majority of Egyptian Jews, who’d lived in Egypt for centuries, of their nationality and their citizenship rights and protection. This law forced the Jews of Egypt to outright seek such protection from foreign governments by proving plausible lineage to those countries, or to remain stateless.
In case Mr. Bizawe misses the significance of that law, it implied that the majority of the Jews were not to be considered Egyptians, because of their religion.
In 1947 they enacted the Company Law, which mandated Egyptian citizenship for 90% of employees and 70% of management in any private or public company. The Company Law, in one fell swoop, denied most Jews, as well as Armenians, Greeks, and other ethnic minorities, of their livelihood.
This one-two punch is a true example of economic ethnic cleansing; first you declare they are non-Egyptians, and then you restrict work in the public and private sectors to Egyptians only! After that, a Jew who did not have a job quickly learned that he would never find one. 
Once again, in case Mr. Bizawe misses the significance of that law: Greeks and Armenians were targeted for their nationality, but Jews for their religion.
In 1954 Egypt enacted the Nationalization Law, stripping Jews and even well-to-do Egyptians of their businesses, and nationalizing their assets.
With the rise of Arab nationalism and the onset of the UN partition debate over Palestine, the political environment in Egypt grew progressively more hostile toward the Jewish community.
So far, I tried to highlight not only the effects of these laws on the Jewish communities but also the effects on other minorities and even Egyptian nationals.
As to the post-1948 events, Mr. Bizawe seems to put his arms around the issues from 1948 to 1970, after having reviewed a few books written on the subject (very commendable), accepting what he wishes to accept, ignoring facts as his argument dictates.
Since I have begun public speaking about the Mizrahi and my own personal experience, I found the need to address two basic issues:
  1. For more than 70 years, the Middle East narrative was one-sided. There was only one Refugee narrative; our Mizrahi experience has never been acknowledged and needed to be asserted fully
  2.  Did the Mizrahi Jews leave of their own volition?
  3.  
After our successful JJAC campaign, even the U.S. Congress now acknowledges, through enacted legislation, that there is more than one refugee population in the Middle East since 1948.
As to the second issue, I go the extra mile, in the case of my own experience, by delineating the fact that my sister left Egypt first, to be betrothed; my brother followed a year later, after he finished his engineering studies; and I had one month left before I could earn my own engineering degree and, together with my elderly parents, join my siblings.
After delivering the statement, I ask my audience whether I was affirming that we “left of our own volition.” Then I explain that history is about cause and effect, which is pretty basic stuff. I describe the causes that got us to that point, and I expand on the laws and measures taken that left us with no option but to leave.
It is worth noting that our plans for leaving were interrupted, because I was jailed, together with all Jewish males of roughly 18 to 55 years of age; to a person, we were expelled, after having spent anywhere from a few days to more than three years in jail—from jail to ship or plane.
This is an event that Mr. Bizawe chose to totally ignore, because it did not fit the template for his “expulsion of Egyptian Jewry” denial.
Did the remainder of the Jews of Egypt who were not expelled outright but left from 1948 to 1967 “leave of their own volition,” with less than ten dollars per person in their pockets!
Expulsion, whether it is active expulsion (gun to head) or passive expulsion (squeezed out), is still expulsion by any other name. Did they “leave of their own volition”?
Given the chance, Mr. Bizawe would have us believe that Albert Einstein also left Germany in 1940 of his own volition (after having resisted the impulse for quite some time).
The Jews of Egypt saw the writing on the wall. Having no jobs, no money, no prospects, with the rest of their extended families expelled or still in jail, would they still wish to stay, and were they allowed to?
Unfortunately, in certain cases (elderly Jews who did not rate imprisonment), yes on both accounts; some stayed and died in their “homes” in Egypt, because the trauma of being displaced, and of leaving the known for the unknown, was too much for them to bear, especially in their old age.
“Home” is where you find the light switch in the dark, without having to grope for it. My mother, rest her soul, never found the light switch in the dark, in the United States, yet she had a choice: finding the switch or being with her children! She chose the latter, like most of the other mothers and fathers when their husbands or sons were expelled from jail to ship. They all left with their passports stamped “Exit with No Return.”
Nowadays, the Jewish community is but a handful of women over 80 years of age; and now, finally, Egypt is rid of her Jews.
And yet you dare to ask whether they were expelled?
Did the knowledge that other minorities were expelled in 1956 and 1967 negate the fact that Jews were also expelled, just for being Jews? I’ll leave it to Mr. Bizawe, at this point, to answer such a simple question, as it suits his need for personal identification with his people: “...with all my deep identification with members of my people...”
One more parting comment, before I wrap up: these other minorities who were also expelled never had to stay a day in a “detention camp” or hard-labor jail, or do any forced “calisthenics”; that was reserved exclusively for the Jews of Egypt.
Finally, Mr. Bizawe, I assume you never experienced torture, jail, or abuse; you earn your own living, nobody took your assets away when you reached 50 or 60 years of age, thus forcing you to start a new life, in a new country, with less than ten dollars in your pocket while leaving of “your own volition”; you never had to worry, as a refugee would, about your children’s future... This list is too long and, yes, depressing to enumerate; I just wanted to tell you, I don’t wish any of it on you. No one deserves to see their parents age 10 years in one day; no one should have to be humiliated and persecuted for who they are: in this case, a Jew.
Make no mistake, sir: We, the Mizrahi Jews, are not victims. We are survivors. Our stories need to be told, and we most certainly don’t need a reason or a lie to seek admission to any collective Jewish suffering club.
I’d like to take this opportunity to personally thank the government of Israel for undertaking this Mizrahi curriculum initiative; I would also like to encourage them to include the impact of the Mizrahi Jewish communities’ contributions (e.g., on arts, commerce, politics, economics) on the respective countries they lived in, because of its historical relevance.

Sunday, November 3, 2013


A Commentary on


The Jews of Egypt :Yesterday and Today





By; Rami Mangoubi Ph.D
In “The Jews of Egypt” (Elaph, December 22, 2005)[1], author Nabil Sharaf el Deen is respectful of Egyptian Jews, and even acknowledges that they suffered injustices, including expulsion, during the Nasser era.  The reader will also be pleasantly surprised to see that Egyptian Jews who fled to Israel are not described as traitors, a common accusation, but as a community that is “bound by profound longing for the motherland, Egypt”. 


Jews who fled persecution in Egypt are “full blooded Egyptians”, declares Sharaf Al Deen.  The article describes at length their active role in Egyptian cultural and artistic life.  By emphasizing the cultural contributions, the author helps dispel the commonly held belief among many Egyptians that Jews were rich foreigners (khawagat) whose only contributions to Egypt was limited to the economic sphere at best.   

The article, however, contains serious historical errors.  It wrongly asserts, or at least implies, that prior to the Nasser era, Jews lived in total harmony.  While Jews in the twentieth centuries had cordial, warm and unforgettable relations with many other Egyptians, they still experienced suffering and exclusion long before the Nasser era, even long before Israel and Zionism.  
Historically and through the middle of the nineteenth century, they, along with Christians, were tolerated as Ahl el Zemma, or Dhimmi.  To be precise, they were shown condescending mercy provided they did not contest the inferior social and legal status imposed on them.  The Dhimmi status implied the prohibition from testifying against Muslims in court, the prohibition from bearing arms or joining the army, and dress restrictions.  Jews and Christians were also required to pay an extra poll tax, the guizyeh[2]
Shortly after Khedewi Said ordered the emancipation of Jews and Christians from the Dhimmi status in the middle of the nineteenth century, and cancelled the guizyeh, new and increasingly dangerous forms of marginalization and exclusion started to appear.  As far back as 1869, long before political Zionism was born, nationality decrees were interpreted so as to deny Jews Egyptian citizenship.  These decrees were consolidated into Egypt’s 1929 Nationality Law.   As a result, more than 90 percent of Egyptian Jews were denied citizenship, regardless of how many centuries they resided in Egypt.  The majority, or 60 percent, remained stateless (apatride or gheir mo’ayan lel genseyah), while others were able to obtain foreign documents.  Despite the enormous Jewish contribution to Egypt’s economy, employment laws implemented during the 1930’s and 40’s thought to deny Jews opportunities even in the private sector.  The most notorious of these laws was the 1947 Company Law, as a result of which a huge number of Jews, because they lacked citizenship, lost their livelihood[3].  

During the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, accusations of ritual murders were also common in Egypt and other parts of the Arab world[4].  Nor was the article’s author made aware of the destruction of the Jewish synagogue in Cairo’s Darb el Barabra quarter on November 2, 1945, or the two massacres of Egyptian Jews that occurred during the Summer and Fall of 1948, shortly after the Egyptian army invaded Israel.  As many as 42 Jews were murdered, and many more wounded during these massacres[5].  No serious trial took place. 

Also unbeknown to the well meaning author are the incarceration and torture between 1967 and 1970 of nearly all Egyptian Jewish males, in the notorious detention camps of Abu Za’abal and Tura.  Nearly all were freed only on condition they leave the country, never to return; they were taken from prison to the airport without being allowed to see their homes, families, and neighbors[6]
It is rather disappointing and sad that Jews living in Egypt were unable to provide Sharaf el Deen with an accurate historical account of Egyptian Judaism; a strong indication that the dozen or so elderly Jews still in the country live in fear, a fear that many of us Egyptian Jews remember only too well.  We never dared discuss such matters in Egypt, and when pressured to talk to the press, Egyptian Jews had to claim that all was well. 

The more courageous individuals, however, would refuse to abide.  I recall for instance the time in 1969 when Mrs. Flore Marzouk, a member of the community who was volunteering her service at the Rabbinate, was asked to give an interview to Le Monde.  The security officer accompanying the correspondent to the Abbassiyah Rabbinate warned Mrs. Marzouk against any mention of the Jewish men imprisoned and tortured in Abu Za’abal and Tura.  The official let her know that she was expected to state that Jews are well treated in Egypt.  He also advised her that the correspondent should be made aware “that you are certain that both Moshe Dayan and Golda Meir (Israel’s defense and prime minister at the time), are criminals.”

That day, I was at the Rabbinate, now called the Jewish Community Center, delivering some food to be shipped to my brother and uncle at the Tura detention camp, and I recall how Mrs. Marzouk, with a mixture of determination, fear, and tear retention, flatly refused to talk to the correspondent from Le Monde under such conditions.  As a result, the security officer never allowed the correspondent into the Rabbinate.  Had he come in, the correspondent would have seen how incandescent with rage we all were at the suggestions of the security officer.

The article’s reader will quickly notice that courageous Jewish individuals like Mrs. Marzouk no longer live in Egypt.  This is indeed a shame for we do see courageous Moslems and Christians like Sa’ad el Din Ibrahim, Ali Salem[7], and Tarek Heggy[8], openly calling for good relations with the Jewish state and even praising Israeli democracy.  Even Ariel Sharon can hear good words from no less an Egyptian than President Husni Mubarak. The President of Egypt declared that only Sharon can bring peace, and, upon hearing of Sharon’s hospitalization, he called Israel and expressed concern[9].  What Egypt needs and does not have today is an outspoken, courageous Jewish community leader who can explain to Egyptians what happened to Egyptian Jews, and what Zionism and Israel mean to all Jews. 
Few Egyptians[10] are aware that, while Egypt’s government denied employment and citizenship to Jews living in the country for centuries, Israel offered them both upon arrival.  The largest percentage of Egyptian Jews, roughly 40 to 45 percent, fled to the Jewish state, while most of the other sixty percent or so spread to various English or French speaking countries, mainly the United States and France.   We therefore are grateful, and indeed morally indebted, to Israel, and to the other countries that support her and took us.
The absence of any honest discussion of taboo subjects like Israel or the fate of Egyptian Jewry only reflects poorly on the country.  Regrettably, in today’s Egypt, it is more common to hear Holocaust denial by high profile personalities like Mohamed Mahdi Akef, the leader of the Muslim Brotherhood[11].   And such criminal bigotry is not limited to fundamentalist circles.  William Fisher, who for a long time managed for the state department economic development project in Egypt and in the Middle East, despairs that even graduates of the American University in Cairo whom he considers Egypt’s future leaders, consider the Holocaust “an idea that's been pushed by the Jewish lobby in America.”[12] 
The sad irony is that such mindset constitutes an injustice not only to Jews who fled the country, but also to non-Jewish Egyptians who were tolerant to Jews.  For it definitely ought to be mentioned that not a few Christians and Moslems friends and neighbors were affectionate to the Jews they knew.  Our neighbors protected us from hostile elements in some neighborhoods like Abassiyah and Sakakini. They bought our grocery when it was too dangerous to step outside.  Our custodians would chase away harassers. 
The fondness that some Jews have for their former lives stems from such memories, and Egyptian Jews inside and outside Egypt have the moral obligation to act as a bridge of peace with Israel, a peace that an increasing number of Egyptian Moslems and Christians realize will benefit Egypt too.  Jewish spokespersons must also inform Egyptians and others about the massacres, the incarceration, the torture, and the years of persecution, if only to explain and acknowledge the deep loyalty and friendship of Egyptian Moslems and Christians who stood by their Jewish neighbors and friends.

Rami Mangoubi is a Jewish refugee from Egypt.  He holds a doctorate from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and works as an engineer in the United States. 


[2] For an excellent account on the lives of Jews in the Arab countries, Iran, and the Ottoman empire since the Seventh century, see Bernard Lewis, The Jews of Islam, Princeton University Press, 1987.  The Dhimmi status is also discussed in Sanaa Hasan,Christians vs. Moslems in Modern Egypt, Oxford University Press, 2003.
[3] Shimon Shamir, ed., “The Evolution of Egyptian Nationality Laws and their application to the Jews in the monarchy period,” in The Jews of Egypt, A Mediterranean Society in Modern Times, Boulder: Westview Press, 1987, pp. 33-67.
[4] Bernard Lewis, p. 158. 
[5] Al Ahram, July 16, 1948, and September, 23, 1948. 
[6] I have personally lived through that period.  Michael Laskier, Egyptian Jewry under the Nasser Regime, 1956-1970,  Middle Eastern Studies, 31, (no 3: 1995), pp. 573-619.  See also Norman Stillman, The Jews from Arab Lands in Modern Times, Jewish Publication Society, Philadelphia, 1991.
[7] Ali Salem, A Drive to Israel – An Egyptian Meets his Neighbor, Syracuse University Press, 2003.
[9] “Mubarak Phones Olmert, wishes PM well”,  Ynet News, January 6, 2006.
[10] Rami Mangoubi, “A Jewish Refugee Answers Youssef Ibrahim,” Middle East Times, October 30, 2004.  Http://Www.Metimes.Com/Articles/Normal.Php?StoryID=20041030-025149-4018r
[11] “Leader of Egypt’s Moslem Brotherhood calls Holocaust a myth”, New York Times, Dec. 22, 2005.  Article found on Http://Www.Hsje.Org/Ldrislmstcallsholocaust.Htm
[12] William Fisher, “Why should We Be Surprised?,” Www.Billfisher.Blogspot.Com, posted on January 18, 2006.

Sunday, February 6, 2011

Egypt, Enslaved

Sat 5 Feb 2011
Dr Maurice M. Mizrahi
 (mizrahim@cox.net)
Congregation Adat Reyim
D’var Torah on Terumah


These days, every pundit and his uncle is a self-styled expert on Egypt, and will give you an in-depth opinion about what's going on there and what it means.  Me, I am not a pundit.  I am only an uncle.  Many times over.  But the rabbi asked me to do this and I figured, why not?  After all, I was born and raised in Egypt, until I was forced out in 1967, after the Six-Day War, when I was eighteen.  So I may be able to give you some insights.


To be sure, I have received many e-mails lately asking me to comment on the situation in Egypt.  I have done so in English, in French and in Italian.  I have not done so in Arabic:  Those who might write to me in Arabic have found their Internet feed cut in recent days.

In this week's Torah portion, Terumah, the Israelites have just gotten out of Egypt amid signs and wonders and miracles, led by God "with a strong hand and an outstretched arm" [Deut. 26:8]. They have just witnessed the spectacular giving of the Torah on Mount Sinai, and are finally settling down to more mundane tasks, such as building an ornate tabernacle to house the Tablets of the Law.

But the thundering words they heard at Sinai are still ringing in their ears, beginning with:
I am the Lord your God, who took you out of the Land of Egypt, the house of bondage. [Ex. 20:2]
Our commentators wondered:  Why does God describe Himself that way?  Would you not expect God to identify Himself by saying:
I am the Lord your God, who created the heavens and the earth?
This would make it clear that He is the Beginning, the Boss, the Adon Olam, the Master of the Universe.  After all, even lowly human beings can be great leaders and liberators, but only God can create a world, so shouldn't God stress this unique aspect of His being, just as He is about to give us the Torah?

One reason that comes to mind is that people, then as now, are afflicted with the "What have you done for me lately?" syndrome.  In other words, spare me the creation of the world -- that's ancient history -- and tell me what you have done for me lately.  So God anticipates that and obliges by saying: "OK.  I just freed you from slavery".

But our commentators saw beyond that.  They argued that if God had said only that He was the creator of the world, it might imply that he has distanced Himself from the world since then, and abandoned it to its own devices.  By saying "I just freed you from slavery", God tells us that He cares and watches over us as history unfolds.  He did not just create the world and withdraw.  He is here with us and His presence is all around us.  Yehudah Halevi, the 12th century Spanish Jewish poet, argues in his greatest poem, The Kuzari, that God is a "God of History", not just an abstract "God of the philosophers".  God is always present.

So God took the Jews out of Egypt and they are ready to begin a new chapter in their march through history, as a proud and free people.  But what about the Egypt they left behind?  Did it ever get free?  No, never.  To this day, it has always remained enslaved by masters foreign and domestic.  Are the Egyptians condemned to perpetual retribution for enslaving the Jews?  Or has their time finally arrived to "proclaim liberty throughout the land, unto all the inhabitants thereof" [Lev. 25:10], in the middle of the massive demonstrations in Cairo and Alexandria we have been watching on TV?

First, why should we care what happens to Egypt?  We are happy to be out of it, we are happy to be rid of it.  Our 601st commandment states,
Thou shalt never again dwell permanently in the Land of Egypt.
[Deut. 17:16; Deut. 28:68; Ex. 14:13],
a commandment that, sadly, I broke the moment I was born.  Yet we are commanded to remember Egypt every single day.  The Torah says:
Remember the day when you came out of the Land of Egypt all the days of your life. [Deut. 16:3].
The Talmud reinforced this message [Berachot 12b]. The Passover Haggadah adds that in every generation, every person must consider that he, himself, was personally rescued from Egypt.  (That’s easy for me to say.)  The Exodus from Egypt is highlighted at the Kiddush for every Shabbat and holiday eve:  Zecher litziat Mitzrayim.  Egypt is where we truly became a people, where we received the Torah.  We are not allowed to keep Egypt out of our collective consciousness.  We are linked to it, by proximity if nothing else. 

So what can we say about Egypt today?  Egyptians have a history of being passive, fearful.  They are afraid to speak their mind.  They may tell you in private what you want to hear, but in public they will go with the flow, out of fear.  You are never sure what they really think.  They fear their leaders and the police state that keeps those leaders in power.  What is happening now in the streets of Egypt is totally unprecedented in their 5000-year recorded history.  The people are demanding the ouster of their totalitarian ruler and are publicly reviling him, to his face, with astonishing vehemence.  This has never happened before.

Let us briefly review the history of Egypt before we proceed:
-First, the Pharaohs of Ancient Egypt were in charge, all absolute rulers with absolute power over the people.  The people, then as now, were mostly dirt-poor peasants.  The Pharaohs were backed by the priests, whose job was to scare the people into submission, by threatening the wrath of the many false gods that were worshipped.
-Recorded history can be said to begin with the Pharaoh Menes, who united Upper and Lower Egypt in 3000 BCE,   5,000 years ago.
-By the time Cleopatra ruled in the first century BCE, Ancient Egypt was already moribund.  It was conquered by Alexander-the-so-called-Great in 331 BCE.  He built the city of Alexandria in his name and image.  The Greeks -- or Ptolemies, as they called themselves in Egypt -- were the masters for three centuries. 
-Then the Romans took over from them for about four centuries. 
-When the Roman Empire split, the Byzantines took over Egypt in 395 and kept it for another three centuries. 
-Then Islam was born.  The foreign Arabs conquered Egypt in 639 and ruled it for six centuries, up to about the middle of the 13th century.  The Egyptians of today are mostly the descendants of these invaders.  The Ancient Egyptians morphed into the Christian Copts, and declined in proportion to become only about 10% of the population today.
-The Mamluks then took over Egypt in 1250 and held it for some three centuries.  They were former slaves from Russia and the Caucasus who converted to Islam.
-They were followed by the Turks, or Ottomans, for another three centuries. 
-Even Napoleon tried his hand at conquering Egypt.  He came in 1798, but gave up and withdrew, leaving a power vacuum.
-That vacuum was quickly filled in 1805 by an Albanian commander by the name of Muhammad Ali.  He managed to gain some autonomy from the Ottoman Empire and ruled Egypt ruthlessly as viceroy, along with his descendants, for a century and a half.  His descendants ruled under the colorful names of khedive, sultan, and finally king.
-In 1882, some thirteen years after the Suez Canal opened, the British invaded, ostensibly to protect the vital waterway and ensure the stability of the Egyptian dynasty.  They became the de facto rulers for many decades.
All this time, the poor Egyptian people watched their foreign masters, helplessly, licking boots and trying to survive by being as servile as possible.
-Then the 1952 revolution came and brought Nasser to power.  It was not a grass-roots event.  It was a bloodless palace coup.  The Army simply came and told the king, "Your time is up.  Get out!"  Nobody consulted the common people.  As expected, they cheered Nasser with the same gusto as they cheered King Farouk a few years earlier. 
It's true that for the first time since the Pharaohs, the Egyptians were now ruled by one of their own.  But ruled is the right word.  The new rulers proved to be every bit as totalitarian and oppressive as their foreign predecessors.  Democracy was never part of their vocabulary.  Maintaining themselves in power was their foremost concern.  There were only three rulers in almost sixty years  Nasser, Sadat and Mubarak  and the first two were stopped only by death, one natural and untimely, and one unnatural.  Nevertheless, human nature is such that, if you are going to be ruled with an iron hand, better that it be by one of your own than by a foreigner, so the Egyptian people felt better in that regard.

Most Egyptians are tolerant, good-natured, kind-hearted, and not fundamentally antisemitic. There are three centers of antisemitism in Egypt:  The Islamic fundamentalists, the intellectuals, and the Coptic Christians:
-The Islamic fundamentalists have always opposed peace with Israel and have vowed to abrogate the 1979 peace treaty with Israel if they ever get the chance. They support terrorists and view Jews in the most outrageously negative of terms, which I will not repeat here.
-The intellectuals are whipping up antagonism towards Jews and Israel through the media.  They know that if war comes, they can always get out of fighting on the battlefield by pulling the appropriate levers. They speak bravely of honor, as long as others do the fighting and the suffering and the dying.  The government has always given them free rein as a safety valve, as long as they do not criticize the totalitarian regime.
-And the Copts are stuck in a medieval interpretation of Christianity from which the rest of official Christianity has been moving away.  I remember shivers going down my spine when I heard the Coptic pope on the radio in 1967, right before the Six-Day War, when war frenzy was whipping up the masses.   He said, The time has finally come when the Jews will pay, and they sons will pay, for the crucifixion of Christ.  He spat out the word pay with great anger.
But the three of them together do not add up to a majority.  The Copts are only 10% of the population and are always at odds with the Muslim majority.  Clashes are becoming more frequent.  The bombing of a church in Alexandria last December, that left scores of dead and injured, is the last episode.  Numerically, the intellectuals are but frosting on the cake.  The Muslim fundamentalists are significant in numbers, some estimate 20%, but still a minority.  So there is hope for less hatred in the air, if the majority decides not to be silent anymore.

Corruption and nepotism are rampant and a way of life.  You may find that to get a driver’s license, you have to slip the examiner a fifty-dollar bill.  But thats not the worst part.  The worst part is that bad drivers are driving around.  If you want a good job, who you are and who you know are more important than what you can do.  But that’s not the worst part.  The worst part is that incompetents are frequently in charge of things.  All that is not likely to change soon.

So far the demonstrators have been careful to limit their demands to three things.  First, President Mubarak must leave immediately.  Second, a provisional government must quickly organize multi-party elections.  And third, these elections must be free and fair.  They were smart not to bring up Islam, or Israel, or the United States, or terrorists, or any other specific or divisive issue.  That should gain them international support.

So how do I personally see the future of Egypt?  First, to answer the earlier question I posed, no, Egypt is not under a perpetual curse.  The prophet Isaiah tells us that after much punishment Egypt will eventually see the light and be blessed. [Isaiah 19:1-25] But Isaiah does not say when that will happen. 

But back to the present.  I believe Mubarak will go, leaving his newly appointed Vice-President in charge of a provisional government that will organize multi-party election within six months.  A new government will be elected, more or less fairly, depending on how well the thugs and goon squads are kept out of the process, most likely by the Army.  Nobody knows who will emerge the victor, for the simple reason that no one has ever heard the Egyptian people express themselves in total freedom, in public or in private or at the ballot box .  I repeat, nobody knows who will emerge the victor, not even the Egyptians themselves.
-If the new government is Islamic, it's curtains for Egypt.  They are in for a long night, with Iran, Hezbollah, Hamas, and maybe even Al Qa'eda as its best friends.  Israel will have to prepare for war again.  And the Islamists will tolerate no second chance for democracy. 
-If the new government is secular, it will start out well, but as its term of office comes close to its constitutional end, its top priority will be to keep itself in power by hook or by crook, and they will be sorely tempted to slyly derail all opposition, as in the past.  As they say, the proof of democracy is in the second election, not the first.  At any rate, it will probably distance itself from Israel and make the cold peace even colder, if that is possible, to avoid angering the Islamists. 
-Corruption and nepotism will continue, as it is a cultural matter that cannot be eradicated overnight.  Whether the people will press continuously for transparency and accountability, or limit themselves to this initial burst, is anybody's guess.
As the Egyptians collectively decide their own future, for the first time in their long recorded history, they would do well to remember the promise made to Abraham in his very first encounter with the Divine:
I will bless those who bless you and curse those who curse you. [Gen. 12:3]
As history has shown repeatedly, that promise will be kept.  Whether it's the United States of America in the blessing, or Nazi Germany in the curse, or Spain in the blessing followed by the curse depending on how they behaved, that promise will be kept.  If the Egyptians choose to move in the direction of cursing the Jews, they may well find themselves right where they were before.

Or lower.

Sunday, November 14, 2010

UNESCO: PROTECT, NOT DENY, JEWISH HERITAGE Petition

UNESCO: PROTECT, NOT DENY, JEWISH HERITAGE Petition

To:  The United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization’s (UNESCO)
H.E. Mrs. Eleonora Valentinovna Mitrofanova, Chairperson of the Executive Board of UNESCO
Ms. Irina Bokova, Director-General of UNESCO
Mr. Davidson L. Hepburn (Bahamas), President of the General Conference
Bureau of the World Heritage Committee
Chairperson: H.E. Mrs. Mai Bint Muhammad Al Khalifa (Bahrain)
Rapporteur: Mr. Ould Sidi Ali (Mali)
Vice-Chairpersons: Mr. Tyronne Brathwaite(Barbados,H.E.Mr. NarangNout(Cambodia),H.E.Mr. Margus Rava(Estonia),H.E.Ms.Dolana Msimang(South Africa),H. E. Mr. Rodolphe Imhoof (Switzerland)


We the undersigned protest The United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization’s (UNESCO) ruling that Israel has no right to add the Tomb of the Patriarchs in Hebron, where almost all of Israel’s patriarchs and matriarchs are buried, to the National Heritage list. The Tomb of the Patriarchs, the oldest Jewish shrine and the second holiest site in Judaism, centers around the Cave of Machpelah, an ancient double cave revered for almost 4,000 years as the burial site of the Hebrew patriarchs Abraham, Isaac and Jacob and their wives. The connection of the Jewish people to the Cave of Machpelah was established some 3,800 years ago, when Abraham, the first Hebrew, purchased it for the express purpose of using it as a burial site for himself, his wife Sarah, and their future generations. It is the cradle of Jewish history and the focal point of Jewish identity. The rectangular enclosure over the caves is the only fully surviving Herodian structure. Thus the Tomb of the Patriarchs is of inestimable historical value as well as great sacred significance for the Jewish people.

We also protest the decision by UNESCO to re-label as an Islamic mosque the tomb of Rachel, Israel’s other matriarch, and to demand that Israel remove the site from its National Heritage list. The Tomb of Rachel, Judaism's third-holiest site, has been the scene of prayer and pilgrimage for more than three thousand years, and has an especially meaningful connection for Jewish women. Rachel, the matriarch who died in childbirth and was buried at that spot on the road to Hebron, has been a comfort and hope to Jews since biblical days. “Thus says the Lord, 'Refrain your voice from weeping, and your eyes from tears; for your work shall be rewarded…and they shall return from the enemy's land and there is hope for the future'… 'Your children shall return to their own country.” Jeremiah 31:16-17. Until 2000, the Palestinians recognized the site as Rachel’s Tomb. It was called “Rachel’s Tomb” in Al-mawsu'ah al-filastiniyah, the Palestinian encyclopedia published after 1996 and in PALESTINE, THE HOLY LAND, a Palestinian publication, with an introduction by Yasser Arafat. However, during the second intifada, Al-Hayat al-Jadida, a Palestinian daily, announced a new-found historical connection to Rachel’s Tomb, declaring that is was "originally a Muslim mosque.”

In an effort to erase Jewish history and supersede Jewish religious sites with Islamic institutions, Muslims have intentionally built mosques upon numerous synagogues and Jewish holy sites. The clearest examples are the Al-Aqsa mosque which sits on Jerusalem's Temple Mount, and the Dome of the Rock, which was built on Judaism’s holiest site of the two biblical Jewish Temples. This pattern repeats itself at the second and third holiest sites. Thus at the Tomb of the Patriarchs, there are domes over the tombs of Abraham and Sarah and a mosque over the tombs of Isaac and Rebecca. Photos from the early 1900's show no Muslim cemetery near the Tomb or Rachel. After 1948 Muslims built their own cemetery surrounding three sides of Rachel’s tomb and now claim that Rachel's Tomb is one of their burial plots and that it contains a Muslim rather than Jewish notable.

Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s office decried the ludicrous nature of the UNESCO decision:
“The attempt to detach the Nation of Israel from its heritage is absurd. If the nearly 4,000-year-old burial sites of the Patriarchs and Matriarchs of the Jewish Nation – Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel and Leah –are not part of its culture and tradition, then what is a national cultural site?”
“Sites such as the Tomb of the Patriarchs and Rachel’s Tomb (which sits on the edge of Bethlehem) present an inconvenient truth for the pro-Palestine movement and its supporters, who want to claim that the Jews have no historic ties to this land.”

In cooperating with efforts to erase Jewish historical ties to Israel, UNESCO is aiding and abetting those who hope to and obfuscate Israel’s Jewish past and undermine Israel’s Jewish future.

The UNESCO mission states: “Heritage is our legacy from the past, what we live with today, and what we pass on to future generations. Our cultural and natural heritage are both irreplaceable sources of life and inspiration.”

We demand that there be no exception to UNESCO’s mission when it comes to Jewish heritage. Israel’s Jewish legacy must be recognized and preserved and not swept away to conform with the pro-Palestinian narrative. In attempting to sever the Jewish cultural, religious and natural heritage bond with the Tomb of the Patriarchs and Rachel’s Tomb, UNESCO denies the history it is mandated to preserve, engages in a political maneuver designed to weaken a member UN nation, and undermines its own principles. It aims to rob the Jewish people not only of two sacred sites, which are irreplaceable sources of life and inspiration, but also of their past and a legacy to pass on to future generations. We demand that UNESCO, whose purpose it is to protect heritage, also protect Jewish heritage, rather than deny it.

Sincerely,
The Undersigned


View Current Signatures

Sunday, September 19, 2010

Neilah

Sat 18 Sep 2010
Yom Kippur service
Congregation Adat Reyim
Dr Maurice M. Mizrahi



 -The Neilah is the concluding service on Yom Kippur. It was not always part of the liturgy.  It was introduced in Talmudic times (Jerusalem Talmud, Berachot 45a).
-Some 2000 years ago a certain Rabbi Levi said: God said in Isaiah 1:15:

Even if you pray profusely I will not answer, [because] your hands are full of blood.
úÇøÀáÌåÌ úÀôÄìÌÈä àÅéðÆðÌÄé ùÑÉîÅòÇ éÀãÅéëÆí ãÌÈîÄéí îÈìÅàåÌ âÌÇí ëÌÄé
-He concluded that if your hands are not full of blood AND you pray profusely you WILL be answered!  It’s a promise.  He turned the negative-sounding biblical verse into something positive.  So the Sages added Neilah to increase the chance that our prayers will be answered on Yom Kippur.

-50 years ago this minute, I was standing in Shaar HaShamayim synagogue in downtown Cairo, Egypt, where I grew up.  The people were tired, sleepy, hungry.  The prayers were down to a low monotone.  They did not want to hear about the origin of the Neilah service.  They wanted the Neilah itself.  Then came the Neilah song.  The transformation was something to behold.  All of a sudden, everybody woke up and started singing at the top of their voices, with great enthusiasm, with abandon and a feeling of liberation!

-What they sang was "El nora 3alilah", by Moses Ibn Ezra.  It’s on page 775b of the Enhanced Edition of the machzor.  If you don’t have that, it’s in the High Holy Day Supplement.  If you don’t have either, your response is to sing, every two verses:
El nora 3alilah, el nora 3alilah
Hamtsi lanu mechillah, besha3at hanne3ilah
which means:
God of Awe, God of Awe,
Grant us pardon at this hour when the gates are closing.
The first letters of the verses form an acrostic, "Moshe Hazzak".





Emacs!

El nora 3alilah

El nora 3alilah, el nora 3alilah
Hamtsi lanu mechillah, besha3at   hanne3ilah

M'tei mispar kru-im, lecha  3ayin  nose-im
Umsaldim bechillah, besha3at  hanne3ilah

Shofchim lecha nafsham, m'cheh  fish-3am  v'kha-chasham
Hamtsi em mechillah,  besha3at  hanne3ilah

Heye lahem lesitra, v'chal-tsem   mim-era
Vechat-mem  lehod ulgillah, besha3at  hanne3ilah

Chon otam verachem, vechol  lochets  v’lochem
3asseh vahem  p'lillah, besha3at  hanne3ilah

Zechot  tsidkat  avihem, v'chadesh  et  yemehem
Kekedem ut-chillah, besha3at  hanne3ilah

Kra na shanat ratson, vehashev sh'erit hatson
L'ahaliva  v'ahalah, besha3at  hanne3ilah

Tizku  l'shanim rabbot, habbanim  veha-avot
Beditsa  uv-tsahala, besha3at  hanne3ilah

Michael sar Yisrael, Eliyahu v'Gavriel
Basru  na  ha-geula, besha3at  hanne3ilah


 
The Sephardic greeting for the season is not “L’shanah tovah” but a line from the song we just sang:

Tizku l’shanim rabbot
May you merit many years

The response is:
Tizkeh v’tichyeh
May you merit and live

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

Rabbi Ovadia to Mubarak: Get well fast, your highness



Shas' spiritual leader send letter to Egyptian president, wishes him 'full, speedy recovery'
Ronen Medzini


Photo: Ata AwisatRabbi Ovadia Yosef has written a letter to President Hosni Mubarak, in which he wished him health, following the Egyptian president's recent medical treatment in Germany and reports about his deteriorating health. "We pray to the creator of the universe to send you full and speedy recovery," he wrote.

Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu will hand the letter to Mubarak on behalf of Ovadia, during the leaders' scheduled meeting on Wednesday.


Good Connections?
Head of Egypt's Jewish community faces jail time /Smadar Peri
Carmen Weinstein convicted of defrauding local businessman, sentenced to three years in prison. Israel not intervening due to Jewish community's 'sensitive position'
Full story



















"For your highness, President of Egypt Muhammad Hosni Mubarak, may his glory be exalted," wrote Shas' spiritual leader.

Photo: Reuters"May you continue to lead you countrymen in majesty, courage and strength, for a lifetime and in peace; may you succeed in all your doings, according to your heart's desire," the letter read.

Rabbi Ovadia signed the letter with a warm greeting, "Respectfully yours, in the greatness of your virtue."

The rabbi and Shas Chairman, Interior Minister Eli Yishai, have kept in close touch with Mubarak for many years. Only recently, journalist Yotam Feldman, who was arrested in Egypt, was released from custody with the help of Yishai's mediation.

Arab media has been reporting about Mubarak's deteriorating health condition for many years, and recent reports have rekindled the debate over who will inherit the presidency, with his son, Gammal, leading the race.

However, President Mubarak never confirmed such reports and is due to complete his fifth year of his sixth tenure as president. He has yet to announce whether he will compete in the upcoming elections slated for 2011.

Speculations over Mubarak's health have increased in recent months following his March trip to Germany, where he underwent an operation to remove a gull bladder. Doubts about his medical situation surfaced again last week after Mubarak made a sudden visit to Paris and met with President Nicolas Sarkozy.

Daily Arab newspaper al-Quds al-Arabi reported that the Egyptian president conducted medical check ups while visiting the European country.


Back

Sunday, July 11, 2010

Israel Asks Cairo To Protect Remaining Jews In Egypt

July 11, 2010

Cairo – The Israeli ambassador to Cairo, Yitzhak Levanon, has asked the Egyptian government to protect Jews in Egypt, following the conviction of the head of the Jewish community in Cairo on charges of fraud, media reports said Sunday.
Carmen Weinstein was sentenced on Saturday to three years in jail after being convicted of defrauding an Egyptian businessman of three million Egyptian pounds (around 520,000 dollars).

She had sold him a building which did not belong to her and then refused to return his money, the court said.
Al-Jareeda newspaper reported that Levanon sent a note protesting the sentence to the Egyptian Foreign Ministry, accusing the judiciary of “oppression and cruelty” and saying it reflected a bias against Weinstein because of her religion.
There are less than 100 Egyptian Jews in the country. They are the remaining members of what was once the most vibrant community in the region, after the mass expulsion of Egyptian Jews in the 1950s.

Thursday, May 6, 2010

A Lonely Levantine Shabbat

In Cairo, the once-crowded Shar Hashamaim is restored, but there are almost no Jews left to pray in it.



Special to the Jewish Week
Wednesday, April 28, 2010

david cowles, Ark at Ben Ezra, Cairo,1994.

I make it a point to go to shul on Saturday morning, and that wasn’t going to change when I found myself in Cairo last summer. Yes, it is in an Arab country, but it is my Arab country, where I was born and where of late I have found myself traveling again and again. There is no one there for me — the 80,000 Jews who once lived in Egypt are pretty much gone, as are all my relatives. Cairo, to paraphrase Janet Flanner, was yesterday.
While at a festive gathering at the home of the United States ambassador, I asked if there were services I could attend that coming Saturday. Everyone shrugged, but then the head of Egypt’s virtually nonexistent Jewish community, Carmen Weinstein, spoke up to say there was certainly a place where I could pray, and I thought I detected a certain edge in her voice.
I could go, she informed me, to the magnificent central synagogue, Shar Hashamaim — The Gates of Heaven. My parents were married there back in World War II, and I have always had a romantic attachment to it. When I’d first returned to Egypt in 2005, I saw little beauty in the careworn massive stone building. Like most of the synagogues in Cairo, it looked like the house in the Addams Family: dark, frayed, forbidding.
But since that time, Weinstein had overseen a major renovation, encouraged and embraced by the American Jewish Committee, to restore the temple to its former splendor. Hundreds of thousands of dollars were apparently spent by the Egyptian government to fix it up, and there’d been a formal ceremony marking its reopening. The Gates of Heaven has no rabbi and no regular minyan, but come certain holidays, the handful of Jews who remained in Cairo, many quite elderly, venture out and reunite in the sanctuary.
One Saturday morning last June, my husband and I made our way to downtown Cairo, the hub of what had once been an intensely glamorous city; the synagogue had been situated steps from delightful patisseries, fashionable department stores, cinemas and boutiques. But, of course, that was when Jews and a multitude of Europeans — French, Swiss, Italians, British and Belgians — made Cairo one of the most cosmopolitan cities in the world. Since these “foreigners” were thrown out or forced out, Cairo had become hopelessly provincial. The elegant stores gave way to cheap emporiums. And the Gates of Heaven was essentially abandoned — there were no Jews left to pray. 
I spotted a small, armed militia outside the temple’s doors. They looked suspiciously at us, but I was ready for that: Egypt likes to post armed guards outside all its Jewish sites no matter how dusty. Gotta give them credit. How many other Muslim countries protect their Jewish sites with such diligence? Once we showed our passports, we were free to enter.
The synagogue was poorly illuminated, but it was clear much work had been done to restore it to its original splendor. The marble steps leading to the Holy Ark were gleaming. And the wooden pews that once accommodated hundreds of worshippers had some of their original luster. On the bima, I saw an open Torah scroll. 
There were all the elements of a great synagogue except one: people.
I went up on the bima and put my hand on the scroll. Then, I climbed the marble stairs and kissed the velvet curtain that covered the Holy Ark. I looked around me, unsure what to do next. 
I felt excruciatingly lonely. Though I have prayed the Sabbath morning prayers a thousand times, I didn’t feel I could recite them anymore, not without the soothing voice of a rabbi or a cantor or fellow worshippers. It all seemed heartbreakingly pointless.
The Gates of Heaven had once accommodated several hundred worshippers, and its women’s section upstairs alone had scores of seats. I had been told the strict separation between men and women only encouraged romance; young men would stealthily look up as pretty girls dressed in their loveliest clothes would preen as close to the balcony as possible, to make sure they were noticed by their intended. There were flirtations and matches and fateful encounters, every Shabbat.
I grabbed a prayer book and flipped to the page of the Amidah, the silent devotional, and prayed quietly. Then, after taking one last walk around the empty sanctuary, I picked up my passport from the guard in the booth, took my husband by the hand, and left. 
I could think of nothing more to do on this lonely Levantine Sabbath. 
      *     *    *     * 
In the last couple of months, we’ve heard that Egypt is repairing more synagogues; indeed, that they expended funds to restore the most venerable temple of all, Rav Moshe, in the Old Jewish Quarter, where Maimonides was said to have studied and prayed some 800 years earlier. Egyptian Jews, myself included, regularly went to Rav Moshe when they were sick, hoping to be healed. I traveled to Cairo again last month to visit Rav Moshe and was impressed by the meticulous restoration. The Egyptians have also begun work on a broken-down Karaite shul and vowed to renovate some other once-grand institutions.
It all has seemed pretty wonderful to me — an Arab country faithfully restoring its Jewish institutions? It was as if my most fervent wish was coming true. Or was it? Is fixing up the empty, abandoned Jewish properties in countries devoid of Jews really worthwhile?
Looking back at my less-than-transcendent experience at Shar Hashamaim, I wonder if what I did had any meaning. Perhaps I could have communed with God nearly as well by staying in my room at the Marriott and davening there. It would have been more cheerful.
In Philadelphia, Rabbi Albert Gabbai of Congregation Mikveh Israel, who was born in Egypt and even sang in the choir of Gates of Heaven as a child, echoed the view that repairing it and other synagogues is essential — if only to remind the world, he says, that once upon a time Jews were there and in substantial numbers.
Since he left Egypt decades ago — after spending some years in prison camp, which is what happened to Jewish men who lingered — Rabbi Gabbai has had no desire whatsoever to go back, except to his synagogue, except to Gates of Heaven. He embraced my decision to pray there. “It means that you are reclaiming the place for Jews — for you as a Jew, and for all the Jews — [saying that] it belongs to them.”
Not everyone would agree. Rabbi Gerald Skolnik of the Forest Hills Jewish Center casts a tepid eye on efforts to refurbish synagogues in places where there are no Jews; from Poland to Egypt, he wonders what is the point other than to attract tourist dollars. 
“Is it better for a synagogue to be rehabilitated instead of being torn down or made into a mosque? Halachically, yes. But what is sadder than seeing an empty synagogue?”
Rabbi Elie Abadie, who presides over the Edmond J. Safra congregation in New York, staunchly argues in favor of restoring these lost synagogues. As a native of Lebanon, he has suffered the heartbreak of watching grand houses of worship destroyed or converted or sold or abandoned — as most were in and around Beirut. He passionately believes that the governments that drove out their Jews “have the financial and ethical responsibility to restore the synagogues.” 
As for my woebegone feeling on that Cairo Sabbath, he says, “If a person is praying in a synagogue — albeit empty — those prayers are at a higher level and more meaningful because the synagogue maintains its sanctity. Even if there is no minyan [quorum of 10 men] the prayers are at a higher level,” Rabbi Abadie contends. God, he says, was of course there in the original Great Temple, and then in the Second Temple. “Once the Temple was destroyed, its sanctity was transferred to all synagogues all over the world,” he said. When a synagogue is built, he said, “it is believed that God enters it and remains there,” till eternity. 
I found comfort in hearing that while I may have felt desperately alone that Sabbath morning, God was indeed there beside me in that great cavernous space in Cairo. 

footer

HISTORICAL SOCIETY OF JEWS FROM EGYPT © 2018 All Rights Reserved.
Historical Society of Jews From Egypt is a not-for-profit organization recognized as tax-exempt under Internal Revenue Code section 501(c)(3).