No Jews Here
Although the situation in Iraq has improved tremendously in the last year or so due to the surge, not everyone has been able to benefit from it. In fact, the situation has become worse for quite some Iraqis… namely; Jews. Where there were 130,000 Jews living in Iraq’s capital, Baghdad, 50 years ago, there are now fewer than 10 left.
The main reason? Antisemitism and Islamic terrorism, and fear:
They are scared even to publicize their exact number, which was recently estimated at seven by the Jewish Agency for Israel, and at eight by one Christian cleric. That is not enough to read the Torah in public, if there were anywhere in public they would dare to read it, and too few to recite a proper Kaddish for the dead.
Among those who remain is a former car salesman who describes himself as the “rabbi, slaughterer and one of the leaders of the Jewish community in Iraq.”
Although many of his Muslim friends and immediate neighbors know he is Jewish (“I’m proud, I’m Jewish, not ashamed. I’m not hiding,” he wrote at one point.), he was wary of being named because it could draw more dangerous attention to him or his friends. To protect him, he is referred to as Saleh’s grandson, because his or his father’s name would be too easily recognizable here. Interviews with him were conducted by correspondence over the course of several months.
Now, before you read further, please keep in mind that Jews (believe that they) have lived in this city since the times of Abraham and, later, Nebuchadnezzar (2500 years ago).
He lamented that Jews in Baghdad had had no meeting place since the Meir Tweig synagogue, the last in the city, was closed in 2003, after it became too dangerous to gather openly.
“I do my prayer in my house because we closed the synagogue from the war until now. If we open it, it will be a target,” he wrote, adding later: “I have no future here, I can’t marry, there is no girl. I can’t put my kova on my head out of the house. If I’m out of Iraq, I’ll share with people in all our feasts and do my prayer in the synagogue and will be with my family.”
Now in his early 40s, he exists as anonymously and discreetly as he can. He cannot reliably hide his religion: it is stamped on his official identity card, which he must present at any security checkpoint. So he stays mainly in his own neighborhood, protected by Muslim neighbors who have been family friends for decades.
It will probably not take long before Baghdad has no Jews left anymore.
And that’s a very sad legacy of the War in Iraq.
Cette hostilité contre les Juifs n’est pas récente.
Un de mes amis, informaticien, a travaillé en Irak, dans la deuxième moitié des années 1970. Il a pu y constater, entre autres, un antisionisme (pour ne pas dire un antisémitisme) grossier, quasi paranoïaque. Les interlocuteurs irakiens de son entreprise lui ont demandé de modifier les imprimantes fournies, parce les astérisques ressemblaient à des étoiles de David !
Il est vrai, cependant, que la guerre en Irak a transformé ce pays, le seul qui était dénué de terrorisme islamiste, en immense champ de tir pour Al-Quaïda et les amis des mollahs iraniens.