Ancient Tunisian Jewish community faces uncertain future

Math teacher Anael Haddad teaches a second-grade class for girls at a Jewish school in Hara Kbira. Haddad dreams of becoming a lawyer, but she knows that option is closed to her. RNS photo by Elizabeth Bryant

HARA KBIRA, Tunisia (RNS) Brightly colored Hebrew letters are pasted on the walls of a kindergarten in this sun-washed town where toddlers clap and sing Jewish songs. Outside, young mothers push strollers past houses that boast walls painted with Jewish symbols.

Across North Africa, a once-vibrant Jewish population has all but vanished. Crumbling synagogues and cemeteries serve as fading testaments of a time long ago. Their biggest numbers are to the west, in Morocco, where some 2,500 aging Jews remain.

Yet on Tunisia’s resort island of Djerba, young families are bucking that trend.

Whether Djerba’s 1,000 Jews will endure is a matter of debate. But for many — including Jews from abroad who visit Djerba for a key religious festival — the island’s ancient community dating back at last 2,000 years is an important marker of old family ties and still older traditions.

Perhaps equally important, Djerba remains a tiny oasis of interfaith harmony and tolerance in an Arab world splintered by violence. In some ways it mirrors Tunisia’s move toward democracy. Despite serious economic and security problems, the country has emerged as the only success story in the 2011 Arab Spring uprising. Many hope that will last.

“The future of the Jewish community will depend on Tunisia’s political and security situation,” said Rene Trabelsi, whose septuagenarian father, Perez, is president of Djerba’s Jewish community. “But if it remains and even grows, there must be relations between Israel and Tunisia” which today remain limited.

The younger Trabelsi runs a travel agency outside Paris, and is a key liaison between the Djerbian community and the diaspora in France. He is also among the tens of thousands of Jews who left Tunisia since its 1956 independence from France and the outbreak of the larger Arab-Israeli conflict.

A population that once numbered 100,000 now stands at less than 2,000. Most live in the deeply conservative community of Hara Kbira, with smaller pockets elsewhere, including the capital Tunis.

“Two things mark the Jews from Djerba,” said Tunisian-French historian Albert-Armand Maarek. “One is they were chased from ancient Israel, and that is transmitted through the generations. Second, they’re very insular, island people.”

For outsiders, life here can indeed seem stifling. Many boys attend yeshiva and join the family jewelry business. Women often marry before 20, and stay home to raise families.

“There are girls elsewhere who become lawyers and architects, who get doctoral degrees. Here, we can’t,” said 18-year-old Anael Haddad, who teaches math at a Jewish school in Hara Kbira. “But life is also very easy and clear.”

A few miles away in the tangle of streets of Djerba’s main souk, jewelry storeowner Mikael Haddouk talks about family members who have emigrated to France and Israel.

“But I feel fine here,” he said. “Business is slow. But that’s not a reason to leave Tunisia.”

In some ways, the trend is going the other way, tour operator Trabelsi said. Jews like himself who immigrated to France still return to Djerba for the holidays, a tradition their children are following.

“It’s very important for them to see the country of their origin,” he said.

For now, Djerba has been largely spared the mounting violence in Tunisia, which experienced two major terrorist attacks last year. Jews and Muslims live here peacefully, both communities say, sometimes sharing each other’s traditions.

“We each have our own religion and habits. But everything is fine,” says Muslim postal worker Mourad Mhenni, who lives in Hara Kbira.

Still nobody has forgotten the 2002 attack on Djerba’s Ghriba synagogue, Africa’s oldest Jewish house of worship, a few miles away from Hara Kbira. That year, a suicide truck bombing claimed by Al-Qaida killed 21 people.

Fears of potential militant attacks have shrunk the numbers making the annual May pilgrimage to Ghriba. IT once drew thousands of foreigners for the Jewish Arbor Day holiday, Lag B’Omer that also marks the death of second-century Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai.

“We weren’t even sure we would organize a pilgrimage this year,” Trabelsi said, after Islamic State fighters crossed over from Libya to launch an attack on the town of Ben Guerdane, about 55 miles away. Dozens of militants were killed in clashes with security forces.

Despite an Israeli warning for its citizens to avoid the pilgrimage this year, the event went ahead, under tight security and with helicopters buzzing overhead.

European and Tunisian Jews chatted on long wooden benches inside the synagogue and later danced and ate together outside. Women followed an age-old tradition of wishing on eggs. THEY write wishes on a hard-boiled egg and place them in the grotto, considered the synagogue’s inner sanctuary, which is named after a local Jewish saint.

French historian Marc Knobel, whose mother grew up near Tunis, said he found “great spirituality and culture” in Djerba’s old Jewish traditions. He flew there to attend last month’s pilgrimage.

So did Rabbi Danny Rich, chief executive of movement called Liberal Judaism in the U.K., Ireland and parts of Europe.

“The community here faces the same challenges of other small communities, which is one of numbers,” he said. “But there are opportunities to grow, including encouraging more Jews to come.”

Historian Maarek is less hopeful.

“There is no future for Jews in Tunisia,” he said. “But if one day there is one Jew remaining in Tunisia, it will be in Djerba.”


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