Remembering The Mizrahi Jews
On December 7, 2016 I was invited to address the Los Angeles City Council regarding my personal experience, as a Jew living in Iraq. This year’s annual commemoration of Mizrahi Jews was spearheaded by LA City Council member Paul Koretz in cooperation with JIMENA (Jews indigenous to the Middle East and North Africa).
On June 23, 2014, the Israeli government declared November 30th as Remembrance Day of Mizrahi (Eastern) Jews, those Jews who lived in Arab/Muslim countries in the Middle East and North Africa: Jews who lost their homes, businesses, and their heritage sites, fleeing in the face of persecution, pogroms, expulsion and brutal dictatorships.
Every Mizrahi Jew has a story: here is mine.
I was born in Taht Al Takia, the Jewish quarter of the old city of Baghdad in 1930. On December 31 (2016), I’ll be 86. My mother tongue is Arabic. My Arabic name is Yusef. Islamic culture and history were part of my education and upbringing. My father was a textile importer. Many Muslims were his customers. Some were friends. Baghdad was my home and Iraq was my country.
Jewish roots in Iraq go back over 26 centuries. Biblical prophets Ezekiel, Jonah, Ezra and Nehamia all lived and are buried in Babylonia, now Iraq. By the mid-20th century, one in four citizens of Baghdad was Jewish. Jews contributed to the economy, education, administration and prosperity of Iraq. They never posed a threat to the authorities.
Then things changed. On June 1, 1941, after the fall of a pro-Nazi coup, Muslim mobs went on a rampage looting and burning Jewish homes and businesses. They murdered Jewish men and boys, and raped women and girls, then murdered them as well.
By the Iraqi government’s official count, 179 Jewish citizens were murdered and 240 were wounded. The disaster would have been greater if not for some honorable and courageous Muslim men, who protected their Jewish friends by standing outside their homes with knives and swords. This violence became known as the Farhud.
There were no arrests, prosecutions or convictions. Jews would not file a complaint against a Muslim without fear of retaliation and threats to their lives. I was ten and a half years old. There was nowhere to hide, nowhere to go, and no country to take us. We continued to live in fear.
Baghdad was my home, but without justice. I was terrified.
At the age of fourteen I faced death in the eye. I was chased by two Muslim youths with a knife. In the same year, my 17-year-older brother Aboodi, was badly beaten at night on his way home. I was uncertain about my future home.
Baghdad was without freedom, I wanted out. The only way out was to study hard, get good grades in high school, then leave to study abroad. Maybe I would be lucky to make America my home.
Throughout the fear, uncertainty, anti-Semitism, and government persecution, the majority of the Muslim population was honorable, friendly, supportive and protective to their Jewish neighbors, friends, and even strangers.
Then, on May 15, 1948, Jews felt a beam of hope for safety, freedom and dignity. Israel was born! After 2000 years, Jews once again had a country: a sanctuary from persecution, humiliation and death.
On the same day, five Arab countries, including my country of Iraq, declared war on Israel. They failed. But the Iraqi government turned against its Jewish citizens in revenge. Zionism was declared treason and punishable by death. Summary arrests, torture and public execution followed. Every Jew was a suspect. I began to doubt my future home. Baghdad was without peace. I wanted out for good.
At the age of 19, a year after my graduation from Al A’adadiah high school, I was smuggled out from Iraq to Iran, and then to Israel. I became a homeless, penniless refugee. Like the tens of thousands, I stood in line for a free meal, slept on a steel bed with a straw mattress, in a tent anchored to the hot sand.
Then, a sudden development occurred. In 1950, the Iraqi government permitted Jews to leave. Most of 135,000 Jews left. They were allowed to leave with one suitcase each. They left their homes and their businesses, and their citizenships were annulled.
Those who stayed faced systematic persecution, arrest and torture. On January 27, 1969, nine Jews, accused of spying, were hanged in the public square. That day was declared as a national holiday. Nearly half a million people joined the celebration.
Most of the remaining Jews were smuggled out. American forces rescued the final few after the 2003 war. Presently, there are no Jews left in Iraq.
The Iraqi-Jewish exodus was repeated in other Arab countries. In 1948, over 850,000 Jews were living in Iraq, Syria, Lebanon, Yemen, Egypt, Libya, Tunis, Algiers, and Morocco. Today about 3,000 are left.
The many Arab wars against Israel brought these Arab Jews economic deprivation, harassment, discrimination, and expulsion. About 600,000 of these Arab refugees settled in Israel. The rest found refuge in Europe, Canada, the US and other countries around the world. Nearly half of the present Jewish population in Israel is, or are descendants of, Mizrahi Jews. There has not been one Jewish refugee from Arab countries living in a refugee camp for decades.
After making my way through Iran, Israel and Canada, and after losing my home in Baghdad, I found the home I love. My family and I are grateful and privileged to be living in one of the greatest nations on God’s green earth, where we experience justice, freedom, and peace: the United States of America.
View the full speech at my Los Angeles City Council presentation: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MXd7tfnMkNg
