Podcasts about sephardic jewry

With the expulsion from the Iberian Peninsula in the last decade of the 15th century, the Spanish Jewish diaspora spread across the world. Jews from Spain were called Sephardim, and many of them settled in preexisting Jewish communities in North Africa and across the Mediterranean basin, the Middle East & the Balkans, primarily within the borders of the expanding Ottoman Empire. The huge influx of Sephardic Jews into these communities, overwhelmed them demographically, and the culture, customs and religious way of life of Sephardic Jewry came to dominate the region. Sephardic Jews and the preexisting local Jews integrated, and often intermarried, but at times they each chose to remain apart. Many Spanish Jews had chosen to remain in Spain and embrace Christianity, and were referred to as Converso's. When they or their descendants migrated from Spain to the Ottoman Empire or elsewhere, they often had a challenge reintegrating into Jewish communal life. The established Sephardic communities took pride in their own ancestors not having succumbed to the pressure to apostatize. The confluence of the above two factors led rise to a trend of Sephardic purity pride.   Cross River, a leading financial institution committed to supporting its communities, is proud to sponsor Jewish History Soundbites. As a trusted partner for individuals and businesses, Cross River understands the importance of preserving and celebrating our heritage. By sponsoring this podcast, they demonstrate their unwavering dedication to enriching the lives of the communities in which they serve. Visit Cross River at https://www.crossriver.com/   Subscribe to Jewish History Soundbites Podcast on: PodBean: https://jsoundbites.podbean.com/ or your favorite podcast platform Follow us on LinkedIn, Twitter or Instagram at @Jsoundbites For sponsorship opportunities about your favorite topics of Jewish history or feedback contact Yehuda at:  yehuda@yehudageberer.com  

Join us as we step into the dazzling world of Sephardic Jewry during the Golden Age; an era of tolerance and thriving creativity. Meet legendary figures like Shmuel HaNagid, Moses de Leon, and Maimonides, whose groundbreaking works - along with the rich cultural exchange between Jews and Muslims - sparked the remarkable flourishing of Sephardic Jewish civilization. Who were these Sephardic Jewish superheroes? How did the Golden Age inspire Jews centuries after the collapse of Jewish life in Iberia? And how “Golden” was the Golden Age?Links for Additional Reading:The Ornament of the World: How Muslims, Jews and Christians Created a Culture of Tolerance in Medieval Spain, Maria Rosa Menocal, PBS SeriesUnder Crescent and Cross: The Jews in the Middle Ages, Mark R. CohenHebrew Poets in Old Spain, Hillel Halkin, Commentary, July/August 2007 Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

As many Jews deepen their sense of Jewish identity, Dr. Mijal Bitton joins the podcast to explore the significance of our Jewish heritage, texts, and peoplehood and what it means as we enter the Hanukkah season. Bitton is a sociologist, storyteller, podcast host, and Jewish advocate who also serves as the spiritual leader of the Downtown Minyan in Manhattan.  As one of the first Sacks Scholars, she helps young people reclaim and reimagine Jewish traditions. In this week's episode, Dr. Bitton discusses  Sephardic Jewry, Jewish peoplehood, academia, the needs of young Jews, and the realities of intergroup and interfaith after October 7. Resources: The Morality and Ethics of Global Jewish Advocacy: Lessons from Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks - AJC Advocacy Anywhere Jewish Unpacked - Wondering Jews podcast, with guest AJC CEO Ted Deutch Listen – AJC Podcasts: The Forgotten Exodus: with Hen Mazzig, Einat Admony, and more. People of the Pod:  The Next Chapter in Catholic-Jewish Relations What's Next for the Abraham Accords Under President Trump? Honoring Israel's Lone Soldiers This Thanksgiving: Celebrating Service and Sacrifice Away from Home The ICC Issues Arrest Warrants: What You Need to Know Follow People of the Pod on your favorite podcast app, and learn more at AJC.org/PeopleofthePod You can reach us at: peopleofthepod@ajc.org If you've appreciated this episode, please be sure to tell your friends, and rate and review us on Apple Podcasts or Spotify. __ Transcript of Conversation with Mijal Bitton: Manya Brachear Pashman:   Dr. Mijal Bitton is a sociologist, storyteller and Jewish advocate. As the spiritual leader of the Downtown Minyan in Manhattan and one of the first Sacks Scholars, she helps young people reclaim and reimagine Jewish traditions.  Michal is no stranger to our AJC audiences. Earlier this month, she delivered a powerful Advocacy Anywhere to commemorate Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks, for which the Sacks Scholars are, of course named.  And as co-host of Jewish Unpacked's podcast Wondering Jews, she and Jewish educator Noah Weisman explore questions we all ask about the Jewish experience, from the mundane to the miraculous. In fact, just recently, they interviewed AJC CEO Ted Deutch. The podcast has covered topics spanning from how summer camp shapes Jewish lives, how to constantly juggle joy and pain, the impact of the Jewish vote in the most recent election, and in turn, the impact of Trump's resulting victory on Jewish America. Mijal is with us now in our Midtown Manhattan studio to rehash a little of that, but also to discuss what led her to take on her many roles, including her newest project. Mijal, welcome to People of the Pod. Mijal Bitton:  Thank you, thank you for having me. Manya Brachear Pashman:   If you could please share with our listeners about your heritage, about your upbringing. You were born in Argentina, correct?  Mijal Bitton: I was born in Argentina. My father's family moved to Argentina from Morocco and Syria. My mother is from Spain. And part of what shaped my interest in Jews from the Middle East and North Africa, is that when we moved to America, we moved to a Persian Jewish community. So that was like my introduction to American Jews, this very tight knit Persian community in Long Island.  Eventually, I met my husband, who is a Syrian Jew, with Egyptian and Iraqi background, and I wrote my PhD on the Syrian Jewish community in Brooklyn, which all just shows you a little bit my fascination. It's not just an identity, it's a tradition that I draw from and that I believe can actually give us very powerful tools right now. Manya Brachear Pashman:  Now, is this a Syrian Jewish community from Aleppo or Damascus?  Mijal Bitton: Historically, there is a big difference. I would say that a lot of these communities, you can think of them as pre-immigration and then new settlement in America. Right now in America, it's one community. The differences between Aleppo and Damascus are not that pronounced, maybe like when you cook a little bit the recipe that you use, or slightly different songs that you might have, depending where your family is from. Manya Brachear Pashman:  You are, in fact, a visiting researcher at NYU, and you are the director of the National Study of the Sephardic and Mizrahi in the United States. What is that study all about? Mijal Bitton: Yeah. So when I wanted to do a PhD at NYU, which I did, on Syrian Jews, and I wanted to study Sephardic Jews, what I realized very quickly, and you might have seen this from your other podcast, is that there is very little good scholarship, good literature to explain to us who these Jews are. This is a problem, both in terms of historical research, and for me, I'm really interested in contemporary Jewish life.  There was a huge gap of not having resources to understand Sephardic Jews in the United States. So I had to do my PhD, kind of trying to reconstruct, you know, even, like the categories of study, how do we think about Jewish observance and really religiosity with Jews from the Middle East. So this study is an early attempt by early I mean, we hope it's the first of many studies to begin to tease out the main pillars of what we need to know to understand Sephardic and Mizrahi Jews roughly.  And again, we'll go into this more in the actual report, which will come out in a couple of months, roughly 10% of American Jews are Sephardic or Mizrahi, very similar to, let's say, the Orthodox Jewish population, the Russian-speaking Jewish population, but much less understood, much less studied. So it's an important first attempt to begin to lay out the foundations of knowledge. Manya Brachear Pashman:  So would you say that study is overdue?  Mijal Bitton: Yes, very much overdue. I think it's overdue for many reasons. One of them is that in the American Jewish community we've had for many years now, conversations around diversity, around inclusion and the like. And Sephardic Jews have not really been part of this conversation. Or let me say this with more precision, they have not been part of this conversation in terms that they would want to be part of this conversation. Maybe I'll be a little bit more explicit as to what I mean.  Many of the Jews that we've cited that I know tend to reflect more socially conservative, Middle Eastern forms of Jewish life, and these communities don't fit in very neatly in diversity efforts that tend to align with progressive understandings of diversity. So that means that there's been a real gap in how Sephardic Jews are included or not included in many spaces that are trying to be more inclusive. So we really believe that diversity is not easy, and that it begins with listening and understanding, who are the individuals and communities that we want to include.  Manya Brachear Pashman:  I mean, how does kind of a deeper and broader knowledge of one's Jewish identity, one's Jewish history, how does your deeper and broader knowledge of your identity and history help you be a better advocate? And how can it help others be better Jewish advocates? Mijal Bitton: That's a great question. So you know, you mentioned before that I started a weekly Jewish wisdom Substack. It's called Committed and I'll be grateful to share the link with everyone. The first piece that I wrote there on Genesis was actually about Jewish pride, and it was an idea that I had been thinking for a long time about, and it was that, especially since October 7, I have been in all of these spaces with people who are newly reawakened, energized, outraged about what's been happening. And they speak constantly about the need for Jewish pride, Jewish pride. We need more Jewish pride, more Jewish pride, more Jewish pride.  And on the one hand, I love that. I love that awakening. It resonates with me strongly. On the other hand, I had like this little voice whispering to me, because, as a sociologist, I've actually done research that talks about pride as something, I want to try to say this carefully, as something that is sometimes the last thing a group holds on to before assimilating fully.  So in very simplistic terms, if you think about Italian Americans or Irish Americans right over three or four generations in this country, they will slowly lose a lot of their communal elements. They will move away from their neighborhoods. They will stop only cooking Italian food. They will stop working in certain professions. But they will still have a little bit of that Irish pride in St Patrick's Day.  So I have been concerned when we speak about Jewish pride, that Jewish pride can be seen as unsustainable if we don't know what we are proud of. There is a world of a difference between someone who says there's something here, that seems really good, and I think I'm proud. I'm proud. And it's different that if you're standing there and you say, I am proud of a heritage spanning 1000s of years, I stand on the shoulders of giants. I am continuing a legacy of Jews who have survived persecutions, who've survived assimilation, who've survived living in different countries and in different times, and I am holding all of this when I stand up as a Jew. That, to me, is the kind of confident pride that can help us as advocates when we are facing challenges, because we are facing challenges and we're going to continue to face challenges. So we desperately need that sense of Jewish history, that sense of spiritual sustenance. We have to know what we are proud of, what we are fighting for. Manya Brachear Pashman:  You wrote a piece shortly after October 7, and it was titled, The Pain You're Feeling is Peoplehood. And it was incredibly powerful. It went viral. Because it so perfectly captured what so many Jews were feeling at that moment. And for those who haven't read it, can you share what led you to write it and kind of summarize it for our listeners. Mijal Bitton: I lead a community, I'm the spiritual leader of a community called the Downtown Minyan. And like many spiritual leaders and clergy on that Simchat Torah. I had to, you know, I'm not saying anything new. Here I was, I was heartbroken, reeling. I don't use a phone on Shabbat didn't always happening. My family in Israel, the reports that were coming in, I felt like my soul, my heart was being ripped. I think many of us felt this. And I had a Shul to run, and I had to figure out, like, what Jewish wisdom can I use right now? And it was very primal and instinctive.  There was a teaching that I had taught before because I thought it was important, but at that moment, it felt essential, and it just like, came out. I stood in front of my community who were in pain, and I wanted to give them names to explain what was happening. And I described, I use a very famous teaching by Rav Soloveichik, who speaks about who asked the question, can we still speak of ourselves as Jewish people, even with all of our diversity and differences and disagreements?  And it brings up a Talmudic question about, if you have a man of two heads, is this considered one person or two? And it's a complicated question, if you take it seriously, and he offers a gruesome test to figure this out. You pour boiling water on one head, and then you look at the other, and if it cries out in pain, it is one people. If it doesn't, it is two. The reason that this teaching was important for me to say, and I think the reason you said it went viral is because, you know. I haven't said this like this before, so I am expressing this now, thinking with you. I think for very long, for us Jews in America, we have been pushed and compelled to think of Judaism along Protestant religious terms.  What I mean by this, it's a faith, it's a set of beliefs, it's a value system. It has to fit in like some universalistic framework, and that pain that we felt on October 7 was different. It was a reminder that to be a Jew is to be part of a family. That it doesn't matter how different we are from each other, how much we disagree. When your relative is in pain, you cry with them. And it's almost like that pain, to me was like a way of saying we are reminded that we're part of a family. And there's something. I don't have the right words here. There's something almost to treasure about the pain, because it reminds us that we are connected to each other, committed to each other, responsible for each other.  And I think we all felt it, and it took away some of the layers of conditioning that many of us have had, to pretend like we aren't a family. That's what I think was one of the things that were so powerful about the tragedy that we all experienced. Manya Brachear Pashman:  Yeah, because we're so trained to be individuals, right, especially here in America, right, that individual spirit, and that's, that's not part of peoplehood. Or is it? I don't know. Maybe that's not the point.  Mijal Bitton: Yeah, listen, I think our tradition is amazing and complex, and there's strands of faith that brings up individualism and agency, but there's powerful strengths that talk about us as a family, as a collective, as a tribe, and there's powerful elements in our culture that have been pushing against that. And in many parts of our community, I think we drank the Kool Aid and we said we are not like, you know, that's backwards. That's not who we are anymore.  And then we were reminded that there's something there that we all felt was true. It existed before October 7, but I think October 7 kind of like woke it up. When I've shared this metaphor of the two headed men with people, many of them have offered an objection, and they've said, how awful is it for us to speak about who we are based on antisemitism? It shouldn't have to be like that. But, I mean, I would agree with that critique on theoretical terms. On sociological human terms, there is nothing that is more potent than having a shared enemy, a shared tragedy. Think about a family again, how tragedy brings us together.  So I think that unfortunately, the fact that there is still antisemitism vibrant in our societies and our streets has served to continue to reinforce that initial sense that we had after October 7. Of course, there are rifts. We can talk about debates that are happening. We are not as united as right after the tragedy. But, you know, I wrote a piece for CNN basically saying that the virulent anti semitism in the anti-Zionist movement is creating more Zionists. It's creating more Jewish solidarity. And it hasn't gone away. I am a religious woman. When I pray to God, I ask God that God should give us the challenge of having to remain connected in good times. I prefer that, but being that we don't have that right now, I do think that we have to double down on what our response is. Manya Brachear Pashman:  You wrote another piece for CNN that had to do with the anti-Israel protests on university campuses and the fear that it was inducing in so many Jewish young people, and the solidarity that was coming out of that. So with that in mind, one thing that the Jewish communal world is experiencing, we're certainly seeing it here at AJC, is an influx in involvement. Not just solidarity, but activism and advocacy, people who want to be more involved. Have you given any thought to this influx, and whether or not the infrastructure is in place here in America especially, to kind of sustain that, that level of involvement and activism.  Mijal Bitton: So one of the things that I've seen, and I'll be honest, that I'm still trying to understand it, but one of the things that I'm seeing is, there's, there's the thing called the organized Jewish community, okay? And it's a powerful ecosystem, you know, with lovers of power and influence. And I'm also privy, partially because of my work with young Jews, to a whole world of people who are wanting to be active, but who either don't have the access or the orientation to do so, you know, within the organized Jewish community And for me, part of what's still missing are the bridges between these different ecosystems. There's all of these people who are active on social media, right? The world of influencers, there's these groups of young Jews who are creating pop up Shabbat dinners, like all over the place, and like creating new clubs to celebrate Shabbat with each other and Jewish identity. And there is a lot of energy there. And what I'm trying to figure out is, I'm thinking of this as almost two powerful ecosystems, and I think that they would both be more powerful if they're in better conversation with each other.  So that, to me, again, it's a little bit abstract. I'm still thinking it through. I am a scholar in residence at the Maimonides Fund, and this is one of the questions that I have right now in this post-October 7 world: what would it mean to better bridge between these different ecosystems? Manya Brachear Pashman:  We just talked about the campus protests and the solidarity that they fuel, and we've also talked about the lack of research and scholarship out there about Jews in the Middle East and and North Africa and the diversity of the Jewish community. Do you think if young people had a better grasp of the thousands of years of history, of Jewish history in the Middle East, do you think that would shift the conversation at all, that education? And I don't mean obviously just within the Jewish community, I mean more broadly. Mijal Bitton: I mean, broadly speaking, yeah. So I would say two things I take to heart with my friend Haviv Retig Gur, who's a brilliant analyst. He speaks a lot about the fact that Jews, we don't know our own story. And I do think there is, like, huge lack of literacy in understanding that there were nearly 1 million Jews all across the Middle East and North Africa, and they left, fled, or were expelled in like massive Arab nationalist, anti-Zionist regimes that were propped up across the region. So I do think that for people to know these stories would be incredibly powerful.  I do want to note something, though, as someone who has been active in academia, I still have one foot there. I think that in many places, and we need to not be naive. In many places, people have vested interest in certain narratives, and they are emotionally attached to this narrative, and they have no incentive to change them, no matter how many counterfactuals you provide to them.  So there are definitely many parts in academia that want to think of the world as divided between the oppressors and the oppressed, and who want to think of Jews and Israel and Zionists as aligned with the oppressors, who they equate to Europeans and white and Westerners. And no matter how many counterfactuals you will give to them, they will find a way again, and I'm happy to explain this. They will find ways to make it fit into their narrative.  So we need a multi-pronged approach. One approach is to give the literacy to those who are seeking it as a way to have greater strength and intellectual tools at their disposal. Also, there's like a huge middle to convince, you know that can be moved. And when it comes to those ideologues, we have to battle their narratives. Manya Brachear Pashman:  In other words, offering that literacy to the Jewish community first, to those who actually want it, who are curious enough to want it, that's step one.  Mijal Bitton: Yeah, Jewish community, friends of the Jewish community, people who are intellectually honest and want to have a better discourse around Israel, the Middle East and current reality. Manya Brachear Pashman:  So Mijal, I am curious how your conversations have changed and evolved since October 7. Initially I wanted to ask you about interfaith dialog, but maybe intercultural dialog is a better way to put it. But did you have more intercultural dialog before October 7 or after October 7, or is your work really immersed in the Jewish community and Jewish dialog? Mijal Bitton: Yeah, so I would say like this: I think before October 7, I had spent many years focused on interfaith work. I think that the interfaith work was often anchored in more liberal and progressive spaces, and many of those efforts really imploded. And I think that I represent, because I've heard this from so many people who basically said, we've invested years into showing up for others and into relationships. And then if I can't get someone to say that–you don't need to like Israel, you don't need to like Netanyahu, but just that Hamas raping and murdering is wrong and evil–then what am I doing here? So I think that definitely, I have been affected by that, by seeing that.  And right now, I think we're in a place a year out when there is new energy in trying to figure out, okay, like, who are those people that we can still talk to, and they exist. And also I think that, and this is like work that is ongoing, there is a real sense that we need to re-examine the work that we were doing. Perhaps we were investing in the wrong interfaith relationships and spaces. Which doesn't mean interfaith work is bad, but maybe we need to invest in other parts of interfaith work. Manya Brachear Pashman:  Can you expand on that a little bit? Mijal Bitton: I mean, yeah, this is like, personal. I am not going to be spending time in interfaith work with people who give Hamas a pass. I'll just say this, you know, like that. And I think there's a lot for me. I am much more interested right now in pursuing relationships with socially conservative leaders of other faiths, that perhaps in the past, we wouldn't have been in the same tables around interfaith work and who have spoken up with clarity when it comes to defending Jews and speaking up against antisemitism.  This doesn't mean, again, I don't want to imply that we should walk away from spaces you said before, it's important to have people fighting in many different areas. I think the real question we have to ask ourselves is, what are the lines, that if they are crossed, we walk away? Because I think too many Jews, for too long, have stayed in spaces where our basic story, dignity and humanity, was trampled, and we accepted that price. And that is not something we can do anymore.  So we have to figure out, how do we reconfigure relationships? How do we stand up for ourselves in different ways? How do we, and I'll say this: in many places Jews showed up and agreed to, you know, like, pound their chest about, like, their white Jewish privilege as a price of entry into coalitions and relationships in ways that just were not honest. We need to fight all of this. Manya Brachear Pashman:  You recently hosted AJC CEO Ted Deutch on your podcast Wondering Jews, and I'm curious what you learned from that exchange with him, both on and off the air. Mijal Bitton: Yeah, it was wonderful. I co-host the podcast Wondering Jews with Noam  Weissman, and it was really nice. I mentioned this on that episode, but I have a very fond personal memory of my first encounter with Ted. It was the March in Washington. I was one of their earliest featured speakers at the March. You know, 300,000 people in person, many watching live. And I was very nervous. And I was like, pacing behind backstage. And I see Ted.  I've never met him before, but I had read about him. And when I read about him, I was very curious. I'm like, who leaves sitting Congress to go and work for the Jews? So I was already, fascinated by like, who would make this career switch? And then I saw him, and I don't know why, I turned to him, and I asked him if I could practice with him. And he literally had me practice my speech. I memorized it, and I practiced, and he gave me some feedback, and I changed some of the words, and his wife lent me a hostage tag necklace because I wanted to have one on stage. And it was early days, I didn't have one.  So my first encounter with him was that it felt like a very personal one, and that's what came across, I think, in the in the podcast, that Ted is this, you know, was a member of Congress, like runs AJC, but he just, he's so warm, and it is so obvious in everything that he says, that this is not like a job for him, but it is a passion and a life's mission. And the way that he spoke about just his love for the Jewish people, for spirituality, for what it means to stand up in the world, his hope and optimism. He speaks about relationships that you can insist on and make sure that you can have right now. It's very moving to find leaders who are running institutions and who themselves are able to embody a very powerful sense of conviction. We need more leaders like that. Manya Brachear Pashman:  So tell us about your newest project.  Mijal Bitton: Yeah, it's called Committed. That's the name of the Substack. I started it on Simchat Torah. I'm still tinkering with it. Like you know, how long it should be, the tone, this, that. I'm very lucky to have a lot of readers and students who eagerly give me feedback as to what works and what doesn't, which is lovely, because I love learning Torah with them. But really, as many conversations that I've had with people about anti semitism and advocacy and Zionism on campus, as many conversations that I've been having around like antisemitism and Israel and politics, I have been having the same number of conversations about Judaism and spirituality and the soul and what it means to be part of this magnificent tradition.  I have been taken aback that often in my my classes and lectures, it will end with people coming to me afterwards and wanting to speak about their Jewish journeys, what it means to raise Jewish children, what it means to learn Torah, if you didn't grow up learning Torah, and now you want to what it means to to know that we are souls with bodies, as opposed to bodies with souls, all of these things.  I have felt that it's really important to try to to have weekly touch points that we can have to ask big questions and to be able to address them using Jewish tradition. So I've in my Substack so far, I've explored, like I mentioned before, Jewish pride, what it means to have Jewish pride. I've explored what it means to have, using the stories of Abraham and Rebecca, what it means to, when the world is burning, to know that we have multiple modes of responses. One of them is to provide justice, put out the flame.  Another mode is to help those who have burn marks and to just show care to them and be with them in times of need. The one that I wrote that I think went the farthest. One was around sacrifice, the binding of Isaac, which I wrote about what it means to from America. Look at Israeli parents and know that they are raising children who are willing to sacrifice in a way that American children are just not being taught.  I use the story of Jacob and Esau, and I did a beautiful thought experiment. What would have happened if a Chabad emissary would have met the bad twin of Jacob? And there's all of this text that actually allow us to imagine that Esau could have become a leader of the Jewish people if he would have been shown the kind of love that Chabad emissaries give. So I think there's amazing ways to approach Jewish tradition and to use those as and use Jewish tradition as a way to ask the most critical questions about what it means to live as a Jew today.  Manya Brachear Pashman: I imagine you'll be lighting candles soon for Hanukkah. Any other special traditions? Mijal Bitton The one thing I would say that I love that we do in our Sephardic communities, we light a little bit differently. And this is a traditional way. There's some Sephardic Jews that have changed this a little bit, but traditionally we light one Hanukkiah (menorah) as a family. So in many Ashkenazic communities, each individual lights their own. Classically, in the Sephardic tradition, a family has one Hanukkiah, and we try to light it either by a window or, even better, outside. So my family, my parents, my siblings, they have a special Hanukkiah with glass panels, and we always light it outside the house, facing the streets in a very real way.  And I think that's an important symbol for us, what it means to insist on our lights in public spaces, what it means to fight for public spaces, and what it means, I would say . . . you know, Hanukkah has become such a commercialized holiday in America that, like lives alongside Christmas, and that feels good.  And it's become not just a watered down version of its original premise, but in many ways the opposite, because what the Maccabees did is they took on not just the Greek Empire in military terms. They took on the Greek Empire in cultural and spiritual terms, and they resisted assimilation with everything they had. So in a funny way, in America, to fit in, we've remade Hanukkah in terms that have been opposite in its original meaning.  And I think this last year asked us to reconsider what Hanukkah should look like, and what would it mean, you know, we shouldn't, I'm not saying we should be like the Maccabees exactly. You know, they're a complicated story as well. But what would it mean to make sure that we're not only lighting a light outside, but that we are expressing our Judaism in Jewish terms, even when it's a little bit uncomfortable for others.  Manya Brachear Pashman:  Mijal, thank you so much for joining us.  Mijal Bitton: Thank you for having me. Really great to be here. 

Yahrtzeit Yomi #1242!! ג חשון Harav Ovadia Yosef רב עובדיה יוסף ב״ר יעקב ראשון לציון (1920 - 2013)-------------------------------------------------- Maran HaRav Ovadiah Yosef ZTL Today, ג׳ חשון, marks the 11th yahrtzeit of Maran Harav Ovadia Yosef ZTL, the revered Gaon and Posek, who restored the crown of Sephardic Jewry. He had a mind big enough to master all of Torah. A spirit big enough to lead his beloved people. And a heart big enough to contain all of Klal Yisroel. The brilliant Gaon was an unyielding warrior for Torah. As a young Rabbi in Cairo, he courageously stood firm for Halacha - even as a gun was pointed at his head. In the early days of the State of Israel, he struggled to bring his Sephardic brethren back to the magnificent Torah traditions that many were abandoning with terrifying haste. Maran's encyclopedic knowledge was breathtaking and unparalleled. In his scores of brilliant sefarim, he “restored the Crown to its Glory“, fighting the battles of Torah and maintaining the preeminence of Maran Beit Yosef. As unyielding as Maran was in defense of Torah, so was he compassionate in personal encounters. He loved all Jews, and they loved him. He was a loving father to all those in distress, and the main address for the thorniest of problems facing his brethren. Perhaps *the story that best captures Maran's dedication to those in need is one that occurred approximately 14 years prior to his passing: Maran wasn't feeling well one day, and his son Rav David and R' Aryeh Deri took him to the hospital to be examined. The doctors determined that he had suffered a heart attack, and they told him that he needed an emergency stent procedure to open his arteries. ״אני צריך לחזור הביתה שלש שעות״, “I need to go home for three hours”, was Maran's immediate reply. “Then I'll return for the procedure.” Rav David and R' Aryeh were concerned that the delay would be dangerous, and they tried to dissuade him from leaving the hospital. “Why does the Rav need three hours?” R' Aryeh asked. “I'm not sure that I'll come out of this procedure alive,” Maran explained, “and I'm in the middle of writing a teshuva to free an aguna. If I don't finish writing the teshuva, who will take responsibility to release this woman from her loneliness?” They brought him home, and he finished writing the teshuva permitting the aguna to remarry. Only then did he return to the hospital for the lifesaving procedure!! יהי זכרו ברוך, ‏זכותו יגן עלינו!! *this story was told by Rav David Yosef at Maran ZTL's funeral.---------------------------------------------------- Share the Yahrtzeit Yomi link with your contacts!! https://chat.whatsapp.com/JimbwNtBaX31vmRDdnO3yk --------------------------------------------------- To dedicate or sponsor, please contact 917-841-5059, or email yahrtzeityomidaily@gmail.com. Sponsorships can be paid by Zelle to the same number. First come, first served. Monthly sponsorships are $540. Weekly sponsorships are $180. Daily sponsorships are as follows: Dedications (l'Zecher Nishmas, Zechus shidduch/refuah/yeshuah, etc.) are $50. Sponsorships (fliers, advertising, promotions, additional links, etc.) are $100. The cost to request and sponsor a specific Tzaddik (unlisted on the Yahrtzeit Yomi schedule) is $180.

The following edition of Yahrtzeit Yomi featuring Maran HaRav Ovadia Yosef ZTL is dedicated as a זכות for the protection, safety and well-being of אחינו בני ישראל. עם ישראל חי!! Yahrtzeit Yomi #806!! ג חשון Harav Ovadia Yosef רב עובדיה יוסף ב״ר יעקב ראשון לציון (1920 - 2013) Maran HaRav Ovadiah Yosef ZTL, ג׳ חשון Today, 3 Cheshvan, marks the 10th yahrtzeit of Maran Harav Ovadia Yosef ZTL, the revered Gaon and Posek, who restored the Crown of Sephardic Jewry to its former glory. He had a mind big enough to master all of Torah. A spirit big enough to lead his beloved people. And a heart big enough to contain all of Klal Yisroel. The brilliant Gaon was an unyielding warrior for Torah. As a young Rabbi in Cairo, he courageously stood firm for Halacha - even as a gun was pointed at his head. In the early days of the State of Israel, he struggled to bring his Sephardic brethren back to the magnificent Torah traditions that many were abandoning with terrifying haste. Maran's encyclopedic knowledge was breathtaking and unparalleled. In his scores of brilliant sefarim, he “restored the Crown to its Glory“, fighting the battles of Torah and maintaining the preeminence of Maran Beit Yosef. As unyielding as Maran was in defense of Torah, so was he compassionate in personal encounters. He loved all Jews, and they loved him. He was a loving father to all those in distress, and the main address for the thorniest of problems facing his brethren. *Perhaps the story that best captures Maran's dedication to those in need is one that occurred approximately 14 years prior to his passing: Maran wasn't feeling well one day, and his son Rav David and R' Aryeh Deri took him to the hospital to be examined. The doctors determined that he had suffered a heart attack, and they told him that he needed an emergency stent procedure to open his arteries. ״אני צריך לחזור הביתה שלש שעות״, “I need to go home for three hours”, was Maran's immediate reply. “Then I'll return for the procedure.” Rav David and R' Aryeh were concerned that the delay would be dangerous, and they tried to dissuade him from leaving the hospital. “Why does the Rav need three hours?” R' Aryeh asked. “I'm not sure that I'll come out of this procedure alive,” Maran explained, “and I'm in the middle of writing a teshuva to free an aguna. If I don't finish writing the teshuva, who will take responsibility to release this woman from her loneliness?” They brought him home, and he finished writing the teshuva permitting the aguna to remarry. Only then did he return to the hospital for the lifesaving procedure!! יהי זכרו ברוך, ‏זכותו יגן עלינו!! *This story was told by Rav David Yosef at Maran ZTL's funeral.

In 1636, the Sephardic Jewish community in Amsterdam was embroiled in a heated debate over the fate of their converso relatives residing as Christians in Spain and Portugal. Would those who refuse to emigrate to reembrace Judaism be denied entry into the World to Come? In this class, we will explore the rich tapestry of sources both sides invoked during this intriguing chapter in Jewish history. We will delve into the arguments presented by both sides, gaining insights into the religious and social complexities that confronted Sephardic Jewry during this period.  The Fate of the Marranos

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  

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  

Too few people know that parts of the Arab world and Iran were once home to large Jewish communities. This Mizrahi Heritage Month, let's change the story, with the final episode of the first season of The Forgotten Exodus, the first-ever narrative podcast series devoted exclusively to the rich, fascinating, and often-overlooked history of Mizrahi and Sephardic Jewry. Thank you for lifting up these stories to celebrate Mizrahi Heritage Month. If you enjoy this episode, be sure to listen to the rest of The Forgotten Exodus, wherever you get your podcasts.   __ 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: Listen to The Forgotten Exodus and sign up to receive updates about future episodes.  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. Located in the heart of a trendy neighborhood, across the street from the Shah's charity organization, the tall juniper trees, fragrant honeysuckle, and gold mezuzah mounted on the door frame set it apart from the rest of the homes.  Roya's father, Haghnazar, was a poet and a respected headmaster at a Hebrew school. Roya, which means dream in Persian, was a budding poet herself with the typical hopes and dreams of a Jewish teenage girl.  ROYA: Prior to the revolution, life in an average Tehran Hebrew Day School looked very much like life in a Hebrew Day School anywhere else. In the afternoons we had all Hebrew and Jewish studies. We used to put on a Purim show every year. I wanted to be Esther. I never got to be Esther. We had emissaries, I think a couple of years, from Israel, who came to teach us how to do Israeli folk dance. MANYA: There were moments when Roya recalls feeling self-conscious about her Jewishness, particularly at Passover. That's when the family spent two weeks cleaning, demonstrating they weren't najes, or dirty Jews. The work was rewarded when the house filled with the fragrance of cumin and saffron and Persian dishes flowed from the kitchen, including apple and plum beef stew, tarragon veal balls stuffed with raisins, and rice garnished with currants and slivers of almonds.  When her oldest brother Alberto left to study in America, a little fact-finding work on Roya's part revealed that his departure wasn't simply the pursuit of a promising opportunity. As a talented cartoonist whose work had been showcased during an exhibition in Tehran, his family feared Alberto's pen might have gone too far, offending the Pahlavi regime and drawing the attention of the Shah's secret police.  Reports of repression, rapid modernization, the wide gap between Tehran's rich and the rest of the country's poor, and a feeling that Iranians weren't in control of their own destiny all became ingredients for a revolution, stoked by an exiled cleric named Ruhollah Khomeini who was recording cassette tapes in a Paris basement and circulating them back home.  SABA: He would just sit there and go on and on for hours, going against the Shah and West toxification. And then the recordings ended up in Iran. He wasn't even in Iran until the Shah left. MANYA: Promises of democracy and equality galvanized Iranians of all ages to overthrow the Shah in February 1979. Even the CIA was surprised.  SABA: I think a lot of people didn't believe it. Because number one, the Shah, the son, was getting the most amount of military equipment from the United States than anyone in the Middle East and in the Persian Gulf. And the idea was: you protect us in the Gulf, and we will give you whatever you need. So they never thought that a man with a beard down to his knee was able to overthrow this regime that was being propped up and supported by America, and also the Europeans. Khomeini comes in and represents himself as a person for everyone. And he was brilliant in the way he spoke about it. And the reason why this revolution was also successful was that it wasn't just religious people who supported Khomeini, there was this concept you had, the men with the turbans, meaning the religious people, and the you know, the bow ties or the ties, meaning the secular man, a lot of them who were sent by the Shah abroad to Europe and America to get an education, who came back, saw democracy there, and wanted it for their country.  MANYA: Very few of the revolutionaries could predict that Tehran was headed in the opposite direction and was about to revert to 16th Century Shia Islamic rule. For almost a year, Tehran and the rest of the nation were swept up in revolutionary euphoria.  Roya recalls how the flag remained green, white, and red, but an Allah insignia replaced its old sword-bearing lion. New currency was printed, with portraits bearing beards and turbans. An ode to Khomeini became the new national anthem. While the Shah had escaped on an Air France flight, corpses of his henchmen graced the front pages of newspapers alongside smiling executioners. All celebrated, until the day one of the corpses was Habib Elghanian, the Jewish philanthropist who supported all of Iran's Hebrew schools. Charged and convicted as a Zionist spy.  Elders in the community remembered the insurmountable accusations of blood libel during darker times for Iran's Jews. But younger generations like Roya's, who had not lived through the eras of more ruthless antisemitism and persecution, continued to root for the revolution, regardless of its victims. Meanwhile, Roya's Jewish day school was taken over by a new veiled headmistress who replaced Hebrew lessons with other kinds of religious instruction, and required robes and headscarves for all the students.  ROYA: In the afternoons, from then on, we used to have lessons in a series of what she called: ‘Is religion something that you inherit, or is it something that you choose?' And so I think the intention, clearly, was to convince us that we didn't need to inherit our religions from our parents and ancestors, that we ought to consider better choices. MANYA: But when the headmistress cut short the eight-day Passover break, that was the last straw for Roya and her classmates. Their revolt got her expelled from school.  Though Jews did not universally support Khomeini, some saw themselves as members of the Iranian Communist, or Tudeh Party. They opposed the Shah and the human rights abuses of his monarchy and cautiously considered Khomeini the better option, or at least the lesser of two evils. Alarmed by the developments such as Elghanian's execution and changes like the ones at Roya's school, Jewish community leaders traveled to the Shia holy city of Qom to assure the Supreme Leader of their loyalty to Iran.  SABA: They did this because they wanted to make sure that they protected the Jewish community that was left in Iran. Khomeini made that distinction: ‘I am not against Jews, I'm against Zionists. You could be Jewish in this country. You cannot be a Zionist in this country.'  MANYA: But that wasn't the only change. Right away, the Family Protection Law was reversed, lifting a law against polygamy, giving men full rights in divorce and custody, and lowering the marriage age for girls to nine. Women were banned from serving as judges, and beaches and sports events were segregated by gender.  But it took longer to shut down universities, albeit for only two years, segregate public schools by gender, and stone to death women who were found to have committed adultery. Though Khomeini was certainly proving that he was not the man he promised to be, he backed away from those promises gradually – one brutal crackdown at a time. As a result, the trickle of Jews out of Iran was slow.  ROYA: My father thought, let's wait a few years and see what happens. In retrospect, I think the overwhelming reason was probably that nobody believed that things had changed, and so drastically. It seemed so unbelievable. I mean, a country that had been under monarchy for 2,500 years, couldn't simply see it all go and have a whole new system put in place, especially when it was such a radical shift from what had been there before. So I think, in many ways, we were among the unbelievers, or at least my father was, we thought it could never be, it would not happen. My father proved to be wrong, nothing changed for the better, and the conditions continued to deteriorate. So, so much catastrophe happened in those few years that Iran just simply was steeped into a very dark, intense, and period of political radicalism and also, all sorts of economic shortages and pressures. And so the five years that we were left behind, that we stayed back, changed our perspective on so many things. MANYA: In November 1979, a group of radical university students who supported the Iranian Revolution, took over the U.S. Embassy in Tehran, seized hostages, and held them for 444 days until President Ronald Reagan's inauguration on January 20, 1981. During the hostages' captivity, Iraqi President Saddam Hussein invaded Iran. The conflict that ensued for eight years created shortages on everything from dairy products to sanitary napkins. Mosques became distribution centers for rations. ROYA: We stood in line for hours and hours for eggs, and just the very basic things of daily life. And then it became also clear that religious minorities, including Jews, would no longer be enjoying the same privileges as everyone else. There were bombings that kept coming closer and closer to Tehran, which is where we lived. It was very clear that half of my family that was in the United States could not and would not return, because they were boys who would have been conscripted to go to war. Everything had just come apart in a way that was inconceivable to think that they would change for the better again. MANYA: By 1983, new laws had been passed instituting Islamic dress for all women – violations of which earned a penalty of 74 lashes. Other laws imposed an Islamic morality code that barred co-ed gatherings. Roya and her friends found refuge in the sterile office building that housed the Jewish Iranian Students Association. But she soon figured out that the regime hadn't allowed it to remain for the benefit of the Jewish community. It functioned more like a ghetto to keep Jews off the streets and out of their way. Even the activities that previously gave her comfort were marred by the regime. Poetry books were redacted. Mountain hiking trails were arbitrarily closed to mourn the deaths of countless clerics.  SABA: Slowly what they realize, when Khomeini gained power, was that he was not the person that he claimed to be. He was not this feminist, if anything, all this misogynistic rule came in, and a lot of people realize they, in a sense, got duped and he stole the revolution from them. MANYA: By 1984, the war with Iraq had entered its fourth year. But it was no longer about protecting Iran from Saddam Hussein. Now the Ayatollah wanted to conquer Baghdad, then Jerusalem where he aspired to deliver a sermon from the Temple Mount. Meanwhile, Muslim soldiers wounded in the war chose to bleed rather than receive treatment from Jewish doctors. Boys as young as 12 – regardless of faith – were drafted and sent on suicide missions to open the way for Iranian troops to do battle.  SABA: They were basically used as an army of children that the bombs would detonate, their parents would get a plastic key that was the key to heaven. And the bombs would detonate, and then the army would come in Iranian army would come in. And so that's when a lot of the Persian parents, the Jewish parents freaked out. And that's when they were like: we're getting out of here.  MANYA: By this time, the Hakakian family had moved into a rented apartment building and Roya was attending the neighborhood school. Non-Muslim students were required to take Koran classes and could only use designated water fountains and bathrooms.  As a precaution, Roya's father submitted their passports for renewal. Her mother's application was denied; Roya's passport was held for further consideration; her father's was confiscated.  One night, Roya returned home to find her father burning her books and journals on the balcony of their building. The bonfire of words was for the best, he told her. And at long last, so was leaving. With the help of the Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society, Roya and her mother, Helen, fled to Geneva, and after wandering in Europe for several months, eventually reunited with her brothers in the United States. Roya did not see her father again for five years. Still unable to acquire a passport, he was smuggled out of Iran into Pakistan, on foot.  ROYA: My eldest brother left to come to America in the mid-70s. There was a crack in the body of the family then. But then came 1979, and my two other brothers followed. And so we were apart for all those very, very formative years. And then, 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. So, you know, it's interesting that 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: While her father's arrival in America was delayed, Roya describes her arrival in stages. She first arrived as a Jewish refugee in 1985 and found her place doing what she had always done – writing in Persian – rebuilding a body of work that had been reduced to ashes.  ROYA: As a teen I had become a writer, people were encouraging me. So, I continued to do it. It was the thing I knew how to do. And it gave me a sense of grounding and identity. So, I kept on doing it, and it kind of worked its magic, as I suppose good writing does for all writers. It connected me to a new community of people who read Persian and who appreciated what I was trying to do. And I found that with each book that I write, I find a new tribe for myself.  MANYA: She arrived again once she learned English. In her first year at Brooklyn College, she tape-recorded her professors to listen again later. She eventually took a course with renowned poet Allen Ginsberg, whose poetry was best known for its condemnation of persecution and imperial politics and whose 1950s poem “Howl” tested the boundaries of America's freedom of speech.  ROYA: When I mastered the language enough to feel comfortable to be a writer once more, then I found a footing and through Allen and a community of literary people that I met here began to kind of foresee a possibility of writing in English. MANYA: There was also her arrival to an American Jewish community that was largely unaware of the role Jews played in shaping Iran long before the advent of Islam. Likewise, they were just as unaware of the role Iran played in shaping ancient Jewish life. They were oblivious to the community's traditions, and the indignities and abuses Iranian Jews had suffered, continue to suffer, with other religious minorities to keep those traditions alive in their homeland.   ROYA: People would say, ‘Oh, you have an accent, where are you from?' I would say, ‘Iran,' and the Jews at the synagogue would say, ‘Are there Jews in Iran?' MANYA: In Roya's most recent book A Beginner's Guide to America, a sequel of sorts to her memoir, she reflects on the lessons learned and the observations made once she arrived in the U.S. She counsels newcomers to take their time answering what might at first seem like an ominous or loaded question. Here's an excerpt: ROYA: “In the early days after your arrival, “Where are you from?” is above all a reminder of your unpreparedness to speak of the past. You have yet to shape your story – what you saw, why you left, how you left, and what it took to get here. This narrative is your personal Book of Genesis: the American Volume, the one you will sooner or later pen, in the mind, if not on the page. You must take your time to do it well and do it justice.” MANYA: No two immigrants' experiences are the same, she writes. The only thing they all have in common is that they have been uprooted and the stories of their displacement have been hijacked by others' assumptions and agendas. ROYA: I witnessed, as so many other Iranian Jews witness, that the story of how we came, why we came, who we had been, was being narrated by those who had a certain partisan perspective about what the history of what Jewish people should be, or how this history needs to be cast, for whatever purposes they had. And I would see that our own recollections of what had happened were being shaded by, or filtered through views other than our own, or facts other than our own. MANYA: As we wrap up this sixth and final episode of the first season of The Forgotten Exodus, it is clear that the same can be said about the stories of the Jewish people. No two tales are the same. Jews have lived everywhere, and there are reasons why they don't anymore. Some fled as refugees. Some embarked as dreamers. Some forged ahead without looking back. Others counted the days until they could return home. What ties them together is their courage, perseverance, and resilience–whether they hailed from Eastern Europe, North Africa, the Middle East, or parts beyond. These six episodes offer only a handful of those stories–shaped by memories and experiences. ROYA: That became sort of an additional incentive, if not burden for me to, to be a witness for several communities, to tell the story of what happened in Iran for American audiences, to Jews, to non-Iranian Jews who didn't realize that there were Jews in Iran, but also to record the history, according to how I had witnessed it, for ourselves, to make sure that it goes down, as I knew it. MANYA: Iranian Jews are just one of the many Jewish communities who in the last century left their homes in the Middle East to forge new lives for themselves and future generations.  Many thanks to Roya for sharing her family's story and for helping us wrap up this season of The Forgotten Exodus. If you're listening for the first time, check out our previous episodes on Jews from Iraq, Yemen, Egypt, Libya, and Sudan. Go to ajc.org/theforgottenexodus where you'll also find transcripts, show notes, and family photos. There are still so many stories to tell. Stay tuned in coming months. Does your family have roots in North Africa or the Middle East? One of the goals of this series is to make sure we gather these stories before they are lost. Too many times during my reporting, I encountered children and grandchildren who didn't have the answers to my questions because they never asked. That's why one of the goals of this project is to encourage you to find more of these stories.  Call The Forgotten Exodus hotline. Tell us where your family is from and something you'd like for our listeners to know such as how you've tried to keep the traditions and memories alive. Call 212.891.1336 and leave a message of 2 minutes or less. Be sure to leave your name and where you live now. You can also send an email to theforgottenexodus@ajc.org and we'll be in touch. Tune in every Friday for AJC's weekly podcast about global affairs through a Jewish lens, People of the Pod, brought to you by the same team behind The Forgotten Exodus.  Atara Lakritz is our producer, CucHuong Do is our production manager. T.K. Broderick is our sound engineer. Special thanks to Jon Schweitzer, Sean Savage, Ian Kaplan, and so many of our colleagues, too many to name, for making this series possible. And extra special thanks to David Harris, who has been a constant champion for making sure these stories do not remain untold. You can follow The Forgotten Exodus on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or wherever you listen to podcasts, and you can sign up to receive updates at AJC.org/forgottenexodussignup. The views and opinions of our guests don't necessarily reflect the positions of AJC.  You can reach us at theforgottenexodus@ajc.org. If you've enjoyed the episode, please be sure to spread the word, and hop onto Apple Podcasts to rate us and write a review to help more listeners find us.

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 bit of antisemitism. There is a talk in the newspapers about antisemitism, Zionist things, plots. There were a few things that made life slightly more difficult, but not in a very impactful way on daily life. MANYA: There were other signs too. When the winner of the Miss Khartoum beauty pageant was discovered to be Jewish, she lost her crown. When Jews had matza imported from London for Passover, it had to be packaged in plain boxes without a Magen David. Given what Gaon had witnessed in World War II, that was enough to leave. He, his wife, and only daughter at the time went to Geneva. ALEXANDRA: That was a blooming community, they were happy, they were together. And they were able to create and expand on their Jewish life. And I think that, at some point, when it became clear, when they saw the signs of that antisemitism coming their way again, they just felt like, “OK, we've seen this before, not just in Sudan, but also from the history of the Holocaust. And we need to take proactive measures, and make sure that we're safe. MANYA: When they left, Gaon and his wife told no one. They packed only enough bags for a vacation. They even left the doors unlocked and food in the refrigerator so no one dropping by their home would get suspicious. ALEXANDRA:  My grandmother always told us how some part of her broke a little when they just left the house. They really pretended that they were just going out and they would come back. They would tell us how hard it was when they turned and they looked at the house the last time and they knew that they had left most of their things. That they had a whole history there. That they had children there who were still going to be there and it was really difficult. And so, they took everything [with] them, left to Switzerland, and made a life there. MANYA: The decade that followed was particularly tumultuous in Sudan. The country had its first coup of many, and a military government took over. In 1960, all of the Jews who had left Sudan had their citizenship revoked. Another revolution in 1964 restored civilian rule.  DAISY: It's at that time, that a lot of the north-south tension kind of comes into things. And there was a lot of violence in that revolution, a lot of rioting. And the violence was tribal, north-south tribalism, a lot of violence against southern tribes, people from the South in Sudan.  But that scared the Jewish community that there would be violence and murders in the streets, and that signaled that this was no longer this stable country that they had been living in. And that's when more people start to leave. MANYA: By this point, acquiring an exit visa had become difficult for Jews, especially those who owned businesses and properties. Much like Gaon and his wife had left under cover of vacation, people began acquiring tourist visas with return tickets they never used. In the summer of 1967, the Six-Day War became a flashpoint in Khartoum. DAISY: There was a lot of rhetoric against Jews, in the newspapers, accusations of Zionism, Zionist spies, slurs, the lot. The Jewish young men who didn't know the right people to avoid it, were arrested for the duration of the war, and then released subsequently. And then after the Six Day War, the Arab League Summit, and the declaration of the three Nos. That actually happened in Khartoum, so you can imagine the atmosphere in Khartoum at that time was not pleasant. MANYA: The Three Nos. No peace with Israel, No recognition of Israel, No negotiations with Israel. These were the pillars of the Khartoum Resolution, the Arab world's proclamation denying self-determination for the Jewish people in their biblical homeland. The Arab League Summit convened in Khartoum on August 29, 1967 and the resolution was adopted days later. Flore recalls how Muslim friends and colleagues suddenly turned on them. Returning home from a trip, her husband Ibrahim's business partner brought back a framed picture and insisted that Ibrahim read its engraved inscription out loud: “The world will not have peace until the last Jew is put to death by stoning,” it said. Another friend asked Flore one day where she hid the device she used to communicate with Israel, implying she was a spy. During a visit to Geneva, Ibrahim was warned not to return because there was a price on his head. Flore said their delayed departure was a source of tension between her and her husband, who even for years afterward, couldn't believe his beloved Sudan had betrayed them. But the time had come for most Jews, including the extended family that Nessim Gaon had left behind, to abandon their homes and fortunes in Sudan and join him. FLORE: My husband had confidence in them. And we had a lot of problems between my husband and me because of this. Because I said ‘Ibrahim, this is not a country for us.' He says: ‘You don't know anything. They won't harm us. They won't do that.' He had confidence, he couldn't believe it. Until my husband became very old. He died at the age of 94. And he always, always, in his heart, he said that they cannot harm us. But he had illusions. He had illusions. MANYA: The Gaons also could not return. It was simply too dangerous. But in the 1970s, when Nessim Gaon learned vandals might have desecrated the Jewish cemetery in Khartoum, he resolved to retrieve their children and other family members who were buried there. From a distance, he coordinated an airlift for several prominent Sudanese families, including Rabbi Malka's descendants, to transfer the remains of their loved ones out of Sudan to be reburied in Jerusalem where he knew they would be safer. It was this sincere belief about the promise of Israel and the promise of peace in the region that led Gaon to encourage and attend a meeting between Menachem Begin and Anwar el-Sadat in 1977. ALEXANDRA: He saw opportunities there to create a peace with Egypt and he told Menachem Begin we can create peace with the Arab countries. And so Menachem Begin took him to meet with Anwar el-Sadat. They had a meeting and they hit it off right away, because they spoke the same language, they came from the same place.  MANYA: Over the next two years, Gaon worked discreetly in the background to ease both of their minds, find common ground, and reach a consensus. When the two leaders were ready to sign a treaty in 1979, Gaon gave them both the Swiss pens they used to make it official.  ALEXANDRA: They actually called him first thing after signing, and told him: ‘Nessim, it happened. We did it.' And, you know, it was something that he was very proud of, but that we were not really allowed to talk about in the outside.  He truly believed in the possibilities, in the outcome. That's what he focused on. He wanted to better the lives of people both in Israel and in Egypt, and he cared about, you know, the Sephardi Jews that were part of that narrative as well. MANYA: Sudan was one of only two Arab nations who supported the accord. Egypt was suspended from the Arab League for ten years and el-Sadat was assassinated in 1981.  Still, Gaon never stopped trying to pave the way for more peace negotiations. In fact, much later Israel tapped him to meet privately with Palestinian leader Yasser Arafat. Unfortunately, the outcome was not the same. ALEXANDRA: We did not really want him to go and meet with Arafat because we were worried. I mean, Arafat had a long history of terrorism and we were a little bit scared. Arafat actually told him that at some point, there was a murder order on his head. They were considering killing my grandfather. And they decided not to, because he realized that he was an Arab like him. When my grandfather told us about this, we all went like, [gasp], what are you saying? But he was very calm about it. And he said: ‘You know, I, I stood there and Arafat told [me], I knew that you were doing a lot of good things. And you know, you were not doing anything bad towards the Arab populations. And you are very respectful. This is your background as well. And so we decided not to go ahead with it.' But I think my grandfather found it very difficult to talk to Arafat. And Arafat was not ready to make peace. MANYA: By this time Gaon had become a grandfather, Alexandra's Nono – the one who taught her how to whistle and play backgammon. The one who blessed her before long trips. The one who taught her his first language, Arabic. The one who passed down his love for the beauty of Sephardic Jewry and his concern about it being overshadowed and undervalued around the world and in Israel. ALEXANDRA: He was so idealistic about Israel, and really believed in it and thought it was such an important project. He also was very critical of it in terms of its treatment of Sephardic Jews. He was very sensitive to it, and he really worked hard to change that.  He was a little bit darker skinned. And he came from Sudan, he was born there. So he saw himself really, as a Sephardic Jew who had the opportunity here to educate this new country and to help this new country understand how Sephardic Jews could actually help and be positive agents within the country. MANYA: He also believed that the Jewish world must acknowledge and respect its own rich diversity for the benefit of everyone – Jewish, non-Jewish, Israeli or Diaspora. As president of the World Sephardi Federation, he traveled the world to encourage others to step up and show that Jewish history is not just an Eastern European, Ashkenazi narrative. ALEXANDRA: The more you're open to people who come from a different background, the more you also know how to interact with non-Jews and with countries that are maybe antagonistic to you. I think that it was a way for him to sort of bridge conflict to say: if you make an effort within the Jewish people, then you learn how to talk to everybody. MANYA: Daisy Abboudi said telling the stories of Sephardic and Mizrahi Jews is complicated. Are they migrants? Are they refugees? What do they want to be called, and why? And then there's the ambivalence some Israelis have had about welcoming all Jews, some of whom still feel affection for nations that wish Israel did not exist. In their eyes, it's a fine line between affection and loyalty. DAISY: It's not an easily packaged short story. It feeds into so many different kinds of strands and politics and it's such a messy period of history anyway, with colonialism and the end of colonialism and nationalism, and, and, and, and. I think it is too big and too much for people to kind of get their heads around. And so people just don't. MANYA: But Gaon believed that leveling the playing field and making sure everyone has equal opportunities to education and leadership is where it starts. As part of Project Renewal, he often walked the streets of the most distressed neighborhoods in Israel to hear firsthand what residents there needed and advocated for them. In addition to the scholarships, bar mitzvah programs, and Project Renewal initiative, Gaon also held court at the King David Hotel whenever he traveled to Jerusalem. Sephardi residents would line up around the block to meet the man who invested and believed in them. ALEXANDRA: Years later, when he was quite influential, he got a letter from the Sudanese government to tell him that they would love it if he took back the nationality. At the time, he decided not to.  He wanted to keep the memories and the life that he had in Sudan and all of the legacy of Sudan without specifically being connected to a government or a political situation that he disagreed with and that was difficult and unpleasant to Jews. I know that 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 what he experienced, and I think he wanted to leave it that way, and not be sort of surprised or sad, or, shocked by the changes possibly. I think he wanted to keep it as this frozen image. I hope that one day I can go both to Sudan and to Egypt and see those places myself and get a sense of putting the pieces of the puzzle together and getting a sense of what life might have been. MANYA:  It's unclear when it will be safe for Jews to travel to Sudan again. Between November 1984 and January 1985, Sudanese, Israeli and U.S. officials worked with Gaon and Alexandra's father, Joel Herzog, to facilitate an airlift of thousands of Ethiopian Jews from refugee camps in Sudan to Israel. Operation Moses, as it was called, ended abruptly in January 1985 as soon as Sudan's Arab allies caught wind of the joint effort, stranding many Ethiopian Jews there. Some were eventually rescued, but not all.  ALEXANDRA: He not only helped fund the mission, which was very secretive, but he also took care of all of the details of the infrastructure from making sure that they could take a bus, to the plane, to a ship. He really took care of all of the details. And it was important to him because he wanted to make sure that fellow Jews would be in a place of safety. MANYA: Tribal conflict and civil wars also have continued. Feeling neglected by Khartoum, the largely agrarian South Sudan gained independence in 2011 after two civil wars. Warring factions within the South agreed to a coalition government in 2020.  Meanwhile, since 2003, millions of Darfuri men, women and children from three different ethnic groups have been targeted in what is considered the first genocide of the 21st Century – atrocities that continue today.  In 2019, Sudanese dictator Omar al-Bashir was pushed out of office by a series of peaceful protests. The following year, Sudan's fledgling civilian government announced its intentions to join the Abraham Accords as part of a larger effort to engage with the international community and secure international assistance. This included an agreement by the United States to remove Sudan from its state sponsor of terrorism list. But yet another military coup in 2021 derailed any efforts toward diplomacy and that plan was put on hold until a civilian government is restored.  Gaon died before seeing it become a reality.  ALEXANDRA: He really saw Sudan as his home. That was the place that he knew, that he grew up in. And I mean, again, he had gone to London before to study, he still came back to Sudan. You know, he went to war, he came back to Sudan and came with a lot of different layers of understanding of what it meant to be a Jew, in a lot of different countries, a lot of different places.  MANYA: Alexandra said he carried those layers and lessons with him throughout his life, as well as immense pride that he came from a long lineage of people living in Arab lands. For Nessim Gaon, the Jewish tradition was and always should be a big, diverse, inclusive tent. ALEXANDRA: One of the memories that really sticks with me is how during the Kohanim prayers at the synagogue, my grandfather would take his tallit, his prayer shawl, and put it on top of all of his children and grandchildren. And my grandmother would do the exact same thing with us in the women's section.  And of course, from time to time I would peek and look at this beautiful tent that was extended above all of my family members. And what was really special to me, was how we knew at that moment that we were being blessed by both my grandparents and that if someone was around and looked completely alone, they were welcomed under our tent.  And this really represents for me, what my grandparents were, they were warm. They were inclusive, loving and generous. And really they extended the tent, our family tent, to all the Jewish people. MANYA: Sudanese Jews are just one of the many Jewish communities who in the last century left Arab countries to forge new lives for themselves and future generations. Join us next week as we share another untold story of The Forgotten Exodus. Many thanks to Alexandra, Flore, and Diana for sharing their families' stories. Does your family have roots in North Africa or the Middle East? One of the goals of this series is to make sure we gather these stories before they are lost. Too many times during my reporting, I encountered children and grandchildren who didn't have the answers to my questions because they never asked. That's why one of the goals of this project is to encourage you to find more of these stories.  Call The Forgotten Exodus hotline. Tell us where your family is from and something you'd like for our listeners to know such as how you've tried to keep the traditions and memories alive. Call 212.891-1336 and leave a message of 2 minutes or less. Be sure to leave your name and where you live now. You can also send an email to theforgottenexodus@ajc.org and we'll be in touch. Tune in every Friday for AJC's weekly podcast about global affairs through a Jewish lens, People of the Pod, brought to you by the same team behind The Forgotten Exodus.  Atara Lakritz is our producer, CucHuong Do is our production manager. T.K. Broderick is our sound engineer. Special thanks to Jon Schweitzer, Sean Savage, Ian Kaplan, and so many of our colleagues, too many to name, for making this series possible. And extra special thanks to David Harris, who has been a constant champion for making sure these stories do not remain untold. You can follow The Forgotten Exodus on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or wherever you listen to podcasts, and you can sign up to receive updates at AJC.org/forgottenexodussignup. The views and opinions of our guests don't necessarily reflect the positions of AJC.  You can reach us at theforgottenexodus@ajc.org. If you've enjoyed the episode, please be sure to spread the word, and hop onto Apple Podcasts to rate us and write a review to help more listeners find us.  

July 31, 1492. In cities, towns and villages across late medieval Spain, whole districts have emptied out. Houses abandoned, stores closed, and synagogues—which until recently had been alive with singing and prayer—now sit quiet. Exactly four months earlier, the King and Queen of Spain issued an edict: by royal decree, all Jewish people in Spain must convert to Catholicism or leave the country, for good. Why were the Jews expelled from Spain? How did Spaniards, and then the world, start to think of religion as something inherited, not just by tradition, but by blood? And how does this moment help us understand the challenge of assimilation today? Thank you to our guest, Professor Jonathan Ray from Georgetown University and author of "After Expulsion: 1492 and the Making of Sephardic Jewry" (2013). See acast.com/privacy for privacy and opt-out information.

00:00 Rabbi Judas Maccabeus, https://twitter.com/JudasMaccabeus7 02:00 Rabbi's Youtube channel, https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCLgGCISOp6Ytu1W6adwvAtw 04:00 Sephardic Jewry, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sephardi_Jews 05:00 Jewish Day Schools, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jewish_day_school 09:30 Attitudes toward America 10:40 Average IQs among Mizrahim, Sephardim, Ashkenazim 11:00 Judas believes IQ is primarily the result of genetics 14:10 Syrian Jews in Brooklyn 16:00 Reform Judaism's gay pride 25:00 Brooklyn Jewish attitudes towards homosexuality 27:30 East Asians 31:00 Rav Kook, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Abraham_Isaac_Kook 37:00 Zionism, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zionism 38:00 Da'as Torah, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Da%27as_Torah 43:00 When the Torah commands genocide 51:00 Haavara Agreement, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Haavara_Agreement 1:02:00 Judas vs Syrian Girl, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t-5M_1SiyE4 1:03:00 Syrian Girl, https://twitter.com/Partisangirl 1:04:00 Black Hebrew Israelites, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black_Hebrew_Israelites 1:07:00 The kernel of truth in the Alt Right 1:14:00 The funniest members of the Alt Right 1:19:00 Adam Green 1:21:00 Thirteen Principles of the Jewish Faith, https://www.chabad.org/library/article_cdo/aid/332555/jewish/Maimonides-13-Principles-of-Faith.htm 1:22:00 Rambam, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maimonides 1:27:00 Rambam's view of revelation 1:29:00 Judas views Chabad as idolatry 1:30:00 The Rebbe, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Menachem_Mendel_Schneerson 1:32:00 Kabbalah, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kabbalah 1:44:00 The Guide for the Perplexed, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Guide_for_the_Perplexed 1:48:00 Scholar of Religion John Z. Smith, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jonathan_Z._Smith 2:10:00 The Dean's Craft of Teaching Seminar, Winter 2013, with Jonathan Z. Smith, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RRDLBCTrJug 2:38:00 The Judeo-Christian tradition 2:50:00 Jason Kessler's UTR Charlottesville trial, https://youtu.be/iDrwmUQxAdU?t=8232 2:52:00 Unicorn Riot (anti-fascists) published Alt Right discord chats from League of the South, Identity Evropa 2:54:00 They cry persecution as they sell illegal drugs 2:56:00 Rethinking Jewish Philosophy: Beyond Particularism and Universalism, https://newbooksnetwork.com/aaron-w-hughes-rethinking-jewish-philosophy-beyond-particularism-and-universalism-oxford-up-2014 3:23:30 E. Michael Jones on CRT, https://youtu.be/1lrIY98fOmI?t=2449 3:27:00 The rise of Russian nationalism and Stalin's show trials Join this channel to get access to perks: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCSFVD7Xfhn7sJY8LAIQmH8Q/join https://odysee.com/@LukeFordLive, https://lbry.tv/@LukeFord, https://rumble.com/lukeford https://dlive.tv/lukefordlivestreams Listener Call In #: 1-310-997-4596 Superchat: https://entropystream.live/app/lukefordlive Bitchute: https://www.bitchute.com/channel/lukeford/ Soundcloud MP3s: https://soundcloud.com/luke-ford-666431593 Code of Conduct: https://lukeford.net/blog/?p=125692 https://www.patreon.com/lukeford http://lukeford.net Email me: lukeisback@gmail.com or DM me on Twitter.com/lukeford Support the show | https://www.streamlabs.com/lukeford, https://patreon.com/lukeford, https://PayPal.Me/lukeisback Facebook: http://facebook.com/lukecford Feel free to clip my videos. It's nice when you link back to the original.

Na rumi-ye rum, na zangi-ye zang which literally translates to "neither a Roman of Byzantium nor a Black person of the Subsaharan region",  means to say that some things cannot be black or white.  In this episode, Millie and Natalie discuss the struggles specific to the dual identity of being Persian and Jewish, diving deeper into the nuances of Sephardic Jewry, the stress of living for your ancestors and being the descendants of persecuted people, pressure to marry within your own religion for the sake of keeping your culture/ "people" alive, and not feeling 100% understood by secular Iranians nor Ashkenazy Jews.Intro music: Dokhtar Ahvazi - SandySupport the show (https://www.patreon.com/persiangirlpodcast)

Rabbi Spiro takes us on a journey about the history of Sephardic Jewry, Mizrahi Jews and how the Golden Age of Spain created vibrant and lasting Jewish communities around the world. --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/jfi-remember-whats-next/message

Chacham Ovadia Yosef was one of the most impactful and transformative Jewish leaders of recent history. In Part One we discussed Chacham Ovadia’s complete Torah mastery, in this episode we will explore his role as a leader: as a Rabbi, as Rishon LeZion (Sephardic Chief Rabbi), as a halachic arbiter, as a Posek (halachic arbiter), as […]

Chacham Ovadia Yosef was one of the most impactful and transformative Jewish leaders of recent history. In Part One we discussed Chacham Ovadia’s complete Torah mastery, in this episode we will explore his role as a leader: as a Rabbi, as Rishon LeZion (Sephardic Chief Rabbi), as a halachic arbiter, as a Posek (halachic arbiter), as […]

July 31, 1492. In cities, towns and villages across late medieval Spain, whole districts have emptied out. Houses abandoned, stores closed, and synagogues—which until recently had been alive with singing and prayer—now sit quiet. Exactly four months earlier, the King and Queen of Spain issued an edict: by royal decree, all Jewish people in Spain must convert to Catholicism or leave the country -- for good. Why were the Jews expelled from Spain? How did Spaniards, and then the world, start to think of religion as something inherited, not just by tradition, but by blood? And how does this moment help us understand the challenge of assimilation today?Thank you to our guest, Professor Jonathan Ray from Georgetown University and author of "After Expulsion: 1492 and the Making of Sephardic Jewry" (2013).To our listeners, thank you for subscribing to History This Week. We want to hear your feedback: https://bit.ly/3a4FGqJ See acast.com/privacy for privacy and opt-out information.

From the expulsion from Spain in 1492, down to modern times, Sephardic Jewry has never experienced the rejuvenation experienced under the leadership of R' Ovadia Yosef. Stemming from humble origins in Iraq, he rose to fame in Rabbinical positions in Egypt, Yerushalayim, Petach Tikva, Tel Aviv and finally the Chief Rabbinate of the State of Israel. A prolific writer and world renowned posek, he became one of the greatest Halachic decisors of modern times. In his later years he would become famous as the spiritual leader and titular head of the Shas political party. Subscribe To Our Podcast on: Apple: tinyurl.com/yy8gaody Google Play: tinyurl.com/yxwv8tpc Spotify: tinyurl.com/y54wemxs Stitcher: bit.ly/2GxiKTJ You can email Yehuda at YGebss@Gmail.com Enjoy Jewish History Soundbites? Please give us a 5-Star Rating and write a positive review!

Following the Spanish expulsion, Sephardic Jewry was dispersed, with the bulk of the exiles settling the Mediterranean Basin. The port city of Salonika became a major center of Jewish commercial life as well as a great spiritual center. The story of this Jewish community is quite unique in the annals of Jewish History. Subscribe To Our Podcast on Apple: tinyurl.com/yy8gaody Google Play: tinyurl.com/yxwv8tpc Spotify: tinyurl.com/y54wemxs You can email Yehuda at YGebss@Gmail.com Enjoy Jewish History Soundbites? Please give us a 5-Star Rating and write a positive review!

Benjamin R. Gampel‘s award winning volume Anti-Jewish Riots in the Crown of Aragon and the Royal Response, 1391-1392 (Cambridge University Press, 2016) is the first total history of a lesser known period in Jewish history, overshadowed by the Spanish expulsion of 1492 which it would come to foreshadow. Over the course of ten months, Jews across large parts of the Iberian peninsula were murdered or forced to convert to Christianity, and entire communities were decimated—the intensity and duration of this period mark it as the most devastating attack on the Jews of pre-modern Christian Europe. While many historians have written studies about 1391-92 from isolated perspectives, in the face of an overwhelming number of local archives found throughout the peninsula, and the complexity of those sources, a unified narrative has, until now, remained a desideratum. In this methodological tour-de-force, Professor Gampel tells the story of Spanish Jewry and their relationship to royal power by reading state records and the almost daily correspondence of the royal family against the grain, telling the story of the subjects of these sources imbedded in the thick context of their composers. The book is divided into two sections that mirror its title. The first is a detailed study of the violence of 1391-92 arranged according to the geographic regions of the peninsula—the Kingdoms of Castile, Valencia, and Aragon, Catalonia and the island of Majorca. Using a rich array of archival sources and in dialogue with contemporary historiography, Professor Gampel painstakingly sets out the limits of what we can know about the riots, both of the victims and the perpetrators, detailing each episode chronologically, in order to form a picture of the period as a whole. Central to the book is the question of how and why those tasked with protecting the Jewish communities failed to do so. To this end the second section is centered around three members of the Aragonese royal family—King Joan, Queen Iolant, and Duke Marti—and their response to the violence as it unfolded. Here we see the Jewish community as one of many competing interests the royal family faced, and thereby can better appreciate the contingencies of history. The two sections together provide both a deep macro and micro study of this crucial time in Jewish and Spanish history, exposing us not only to the story and context of the too often voiceless victims, but the lives of those in power as well. Its a narrative of tragic violence and the failure of the Royal Alliance, grounded in extensive historical research stripped of none of its drama. Professor Benjamin R. Gampel is the the Dina and Eli Field Family Chair in Jewish History at The Jewish Theological Seminary in New York. You can hear more from him in his video lecture series on the history, society, and culture of medieval Sephardic Jewry. Moses Lapin is a graduate student in the departments of History and Philosophy at the Hebrew University in Jerusalem; his friends call him young Farabi. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Benjamin R. Gampel‘s award winning volume Anti-Jewish Riots in the Crown of Aragon and the Royal Response, 1391-1392 (Cambridge University Press, 2016) is the first total history of a lesser known period in Jewish history, overshadowed by the Spanish expulsion of 1492 which it would come to foreshadow. Over the course of ten months, Jews across large parts of the Iberian peninsula were murdered or forced to convert to Christianity, and entire communities were decimated—the intensity and duration of this period mark it as the most devastating attack on the Jews of pre-modern Christian Europe. While many historians have written studies about 1391-92 from isolated perspectives, in the face of an overwhelming number of local archives found throughout the peninsula, and the complexity of those sources, a unified narrative has, until now, remained a desideratum. In this methodological tour-de-force, Professor Gampel tells the story of Spanish Jewry and their relationship to royal power by reading state records and the almost daily correspondence of the royal family against the grain, telling the story of the subjects of these sources imbedded in the thick context of their composers. The book is divided into two sections that mirror its title. The first is a detailed study of the violence of 1391-92 arranged according to the geographic regions of the peninsula—the Kingdoms of Castile, Valencia, and Aragon, Catalonia and the island of Majorca. Using a rich array of archival sources and in dialogue with contemporary historiography, Professor Gampel painstakingly sets out the limits of what we can know about the riots, both of the victims and the perpetrators, detailing each episode chronologically, in order to form a picture of the period as a whole. Central to the book is the question of how and why those tasked with protecting the Jewish communities failed to do so. To this end the second section is centered around three members of the Aragonese royal family—King Joan, Queen Iolant, and Duke Marti—and their response to the violence as it unfolded. Here we see the Jewish community as one of many competing interests the royal family faced, and thereby can better appreciate the contingencies of history. The two sections together provide both a deep macro and micro study of this crucial time in Jewish and Spanish history, exposing us not only to the story and context of the too often voiceless victims, but the lives of those in power as well. Its a narrative of tragic violence and the failure of the Royal Alliance, grounded in extensive historical research stripped of none of its drama. Professor Benjamin R. Gampel is the the Dina and Eli Field Family Chair in Jewish History at The Jewish Theological Seminary in New York. You can hear more from him in his video lecture series on the history, society, and culture of medieval Sephardic Jewry. Moses Lapin is a graduate student in the departments of History and Philosophy at the Hebrew University in Jerusalem; his friends call him young Farabi. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Benjamin R. Gampel‘s award winning volume Anti-Jewish Riots in the Crown of Aragon and the Royal Response, 1391-1392 (Cambridge University Press, 2016) is the first total history of a lesser known period in Jewish history, overshadowed by the Spanish expulsion of 1492 which it would come to foreshadow. Over the course of ten months, Jews across large parts of the Iberian peninsula were murdered or forced to convert to Christianity, and entire communities were decimated—the intensity and duration of this period mark it as the most devastating attack on the Jews of pre-modern Christian Europe. While many historians have written studies about 1391-92 from isolated perspectives, in the face of an overwhelming number of local archives found throughout the peninsula, and the complexity of those sources, a unified narrative has, until now, remained a desideratum. In this methodological tour-de-force, Professor Gampel tells the story of Spanish Jewry and their relationship to royal power by reading state records and the almost daily correspondence of the royal family against the grain, telling the story of the subjects of these sources imbedded in the thick context of their composers. The book is divided into two sections that mirror its title. The first is a detailed study of the violence of 1391-92 arranged according to the geographic regions of the peninsula—the Kingdoms of Castile, Valencia, and Aragon, Catalonia and the island of Majorca. Using a rich array of archival sources and in dialogue with contemporary historiography, Professor Gampel painstakingly sets out the limits of what we can know about the riots, both of the victims and the perpetrators, detailing each episode chronologically, in order to form a picture of the period as a whole. Central to the book is the question of how and why those tasked with protecting the Jewish communities failed to do so. To this end the second section is centered around three members of the Aragonese royal family—King Joan, Queen Iolant, and Duke Marti—and their response to the violence as it unfolded. Here we see the Jewish community as one of many competing interests the royal family faced, and thereby can better appreciate the contingencies of history. The two sections together provide both a deep macro and micro study of this crucial time in Jewish and Spanish history, exposing us not only to the story and context of the too often voiceless victims, but the lives of those in power as well. Its a narrative of tragic violence and the failure of the Royal Alliance, grounded in extensive historical research stripped of none of its drama. Professor Benjamin R. Gampel is the the Dina and Eli Field Family Chair in Jewish History at The Jewish Theological Seminary in New York. You can hear more from him in his video lecture series on the history, society, and culture of medieval Sephardic Jewry. Moses Lapin is a graduate student in the departments of History and Philosophy at the Hebrew University in Jerusalem; his friends call him young Farabi.

Benjamin R. Gampel‘s award winning volume Anti-Jewish Riots in the Crown of Aragon and the Royal Response, 1391-1392 (Cambridge University Press, 2016) is the first total history of a lesser known period in Jewish history, overshadowed by the Spanish expulsion of 1492 which it would come to foreshadow. Over the course of ten months, Jews across large parts of the Iberian peninsula were murdered or forced to convert to Christianity, and entire communities were decimated—the intensity and duration of this period mark it as the most devastating attack on the Jews of pre-modern Christian Europe. While many historians have written studies about 1391-92 from isolated perspectives, in the face of an overwhelming number of local archives found throughout the peninsula, and the complexity of those sources, a unified narrative has, until now, remained a desideratum. In this methodological tour-de-force, Professor Gampel tells the story of Spanish Jewry and their relationship to royal power by reading state records and the almost daily correspondence of the royal family against the grain, telling the story of the subjects of these sources imbedded in the thick context of their composers. The book is divided into two sections that mirror its title. The first is a detailed study of the violence of 1391-92 arranged according to the geographic regions of the peninsula—the Kingdoms of Castile, Valencia, and Aragon, Catalonia and the island of Majorca. Using a rich array of archival sources and in dialogue with contemporary historiography, Professor Gampel painstakingly sets out the limits of what we can know about the riots, both of the victims and the perpetrators, detailing each episode chronologically, in order to form a picture of the period as a whole. Central to the book is the question of how and why those tasked with protecting the Jewish communities failed to do so. To this end the second section is centered around three members of the Aragonese royal family—King Joan, Queen Iolant, and Duke Marti—and their response to the violence as it unfolded. Here we see the Jewish community as one of many competing interests the royal family faced, and thereby can better appreciate the contingencies of history. The two sections together provide both a deep macro and micro study of this crucial time in Jewish and Spanish history, exposing us not only to the story and context of the too often voiceless victims, but the lives of those in power as well. Its a narrative of tragic violence and the failure of the Royal Alliance, grounded in extensive historical research stripped of none of its drama. Professor Benjamin R. Gampel is the the Dina and Eli Field Family Chair in Jewish History at The Jewish Theological Seminary in New York. You can hear more from him in his video lecture series on the history, society, and culture of medieval Sephardic Jewry. Moses Lapin is a graduate student in the departments of History and Philosophy at the Hebrew University in Jerusalem; his friends call him young Farabi. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Benjamin R. Gampel‘s award winning volume Anti-Jewish Riots in the Crown of Aragon and the Royal Response, 1391-1392 (Cambridge University Press, 2016) is the first total history of a lesser known period in Jewish history, overshadowed by the Spanish expulsion of 1492 which it would come to foreshadow. Over the course of ten months, Jews across large parts of the Iberian peninsula were murdered or forced to convert to Christianity, and entire communities were decimated—the intensity and duration of this period mark it as the most devastating attack on the Jews of pre-modern Christian Europe. While many historians have written studies about 1391-92 from isolated perspectives, in the face of an overwhelming number of local archives found throughout the peninsula, and the complexity of those sources, a unified narrative has, until now, remained a desideratum. In this methodological tour-de-force, Professor Gampel tells the story of Spanish Jewry and their relationship to royal power by reading state records and the almost daily correspondence of the royal family against the grain, telling the story of the subjects of these sources imbedded in the thick context of their composers. The book is divided into two sections that mirror its title. The first is a detailed study of the violence of 1391-92 arranged according to the geographic regions of the peninsula—the Kingdoms of Castile, Valencia, and Aragon, Catalonia and the island of Majorca. Using a rich array of archival sources and in dialogue with contemporary historiography, Professor Gampel painstakingly sets out the limits of what we can know about the riots, both of the victims and the perpetrators, detailing each episode chronologically, in order to form a picture of the period as a whole. Central to the book is the question of how and why those tasked with protecting the Jewish communities failed to do so. To this end the second section is centered around three members of the Aragonese royal family—King Joan, Queen Iolant, and Duke Marti—and their response to the violence as it unfolded. Here we see the Jewish community as one of many competing interests the royal family faced, and thereby can better appreciate the contingencies of history. The two sections together provide both a deep macro and micro study of this crucial time in Jewish and Spanish history, exposing us not only to the story and context of the too often voiceless victims, but the lives of those in power as well. Its a narrative of tragic violence and the failure of the Royal Alliance, grounded in extensive historical research stripped of none of its drama. Professor Benjamin R. Gampel is the the Dina and Eli Field Family Chair in Jewish History at The Jewish Theological Seminary in New York. You can hear more from him in his video lecture series on the history, society, and culture of medieval Sephardic Jewry. Moses Lapin is a graduate student in the departments of History and Philosophy at the Hebrew University in Jerusalem; his friends call him young Farabi. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Benjamin R. Gampel‘s award winning volume Anti-Jewish Riots in the Crown of Aragon and the Royal Response, 1391-1392 (Cambridge University Press, 2016) is the first total history of a lesser known period in Jewish history, overshadowed by the Spanish expulsion of 1492 which it would come to foreshadow. Over the course of ten months, Jews across large parts of the Iberian peninsula were murdered or forced to convert to Christianity, and entire communities were decimated—the intensity and duration of this period mark it as the most devastating attack on the Jews of pre-modern Christian Europe. While many historians have written studies about 1391-92 from isolated perspectives, in the face of an overwhelming number of local archives found throughout the peninsula, and the complexity of those sources, a unified narrative has, until now, remained a desideratum. In this methodological tour-de-force, Professor Gampel tells the story of Spanish Jewry and their relationship to royal power by reading state records and the almost daily correspondence of the royal family against the grain, telling the story of the subjects of these sources imbedded in the thick context of their composers. The book is divided into two sections that mirror its title. The first is a detailed study of the violence of 1391-92 arranged according to the geographic regions of the peninsula—the Kingdoms of Castile, Valencia, and Aragon, Catalonia and the island of Majorca. Using a rich array of archival sources and in dialogue with contemporary historiography, Professor Gampel painstakingly sets out the limits of what we can know about the riots, both of the victims and the perpetrators, detailing each episode chronologically, in order to form a picture of the period as a whole. Central to the book is the question of how and why those tasked with protecting the Jewish communities failed to do so. To this end the second section is centered around three members of the Aragonese royal family—King Joan, Queen Iolant, and Duke Marti—and their response to the violence as it unfolded. Here we see the Jewish community as one of many competing interests the royal family faced, and thereby can better appreciate the contingencies of history. The two sections together provide both a deep macro and micro study of this crucial time in Jewish and Spanish history, exposing us not only to the story and context of the too often voiceless victims, but the lives of those in power as well. Its a narrative of tragic violence and the failure of the Royal Alliance, grounded in extensive historical research stripped of none of its drama. Professor Benjamin R. Gampel is the the Dina and Eli Field Family Chair in Jewish History at The Jewish Theological Seminary in New York. You can hear more from him in his video lecture series on the history, society, and culture of medieval Sephardic Jewry. Moses Lapin is a graduate student in the departments of History and Philosophy at the Hebrew University in Jerusalem; his friends call him young Farabi. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Benjamin R. Gampel‘s award winning volume Anti-Jewish Riots in the Crown of Aragon and the Royal Response, 1391-1392 (Cambridge University Press, 2016) is the first total history of a lesser known period in Jewish history, overshadowed by the Spanish expulsion of 1492 which it would come to foreshadow. Over the course of ten months, Jews across large parts of the Iberian peninsula were murdered or forced to convert to Christianity, and entire communities were decimated—the intensity and duration of this period mark it as the most devastating attack on the Jews of pre-modern Christian Europe. While many historians have written studies about 1391-92 from isolated perspectives, in the face of an overwhelming number of local archives found throughout the peninsula, and the complexity of those sources, a unified narrative has, until now, remained a desideratum. In this methodological tour-de-force, Professor Gampel tells the story of Spanish Jewry and their relationship to royal power by reading state records and the almost daily correspondence of the royal family against the grain, telling the story of the subjects of these sources imbedded in the thick context of their composers. The book is divided into two sections that mirror its title. The first is a detailed study of the violence of 1391-92 arranged according to the geographic regions of the peninsula—the Kingdoms of Castile, Valencia, and Aragon, Catalonia and the island of Majorca. Using a rich array of archival sources and in dialogue with contemporary historiography, Professor Gampel painstakingly sets out the limits of what we can know about the riots, both of the victims and the perpetrators, detailing each episode chronologically, in order to form a picture of the period as a whole. Central to the book is the question of how and why those tasked with protecting the Jewish communities failed to do so. To this end the second section is centered around three members of the Aragonese royal family—King Joan, Queen Iolant, and Duke Marti—and their response to the violence as it unfolded. Here we see the Jewish community as one of many competing interests the royal family faced, and thereby can better appreciate the contingencies of history. The two sections together provide both a deep macro and micro study of this crucial time in Jewish and Spanish history, exposing us not only to the story and context of the too often voiceless victims, but the lives of those in power as well. Its a narrative of tragic violence and the failure of the Royal Alliance, grounded in extensive historical research stripped of none of its drama. Professor Benjamin R. Gampel is the the Dina and Eli Field Family Chair in Jewish History at The Jewish Theological Seminary in New York. You can hear more from him in his video lecture series on the history, society, and culture of medieval Sephardic Jewry. Moses Lapin is a graduate student in the departments of History and Philosophy at the Hebrew University in Jerusalem; his friends call him young Farabi. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices