First published in German on 30 September on ref.ch – https://www.ref.ch/?s=fornerod
During a conversation the other day, I learnt in passing that there was a Jewish cemetery in Beirut, as well as a very small community living there quite discreetly. But what is most surprising is that there is also a synagogue, which has recently been completely renovated. This certainly warranted a little research. Indeed, officially, Israel and Lebanon have remained in a state of war since 2006, even though no incidents have occurred up until 2024. Lebanese citizens are prohibited by law from having personal contact with Israeli citizens.
The Jews of Lebanon
Most Lebanese Jews were Sephardim who travelled by ship from Spain and Portugal to escape the Inquisition from the 15th century onwards. Others, known as Mizrahim, joined them, particularly in the 20th century, from neighboring Arab countries such as Syria, Iraq, Iran and Turkey – largely due to the repercussions in their own countries of conflicts with the State of Israel – as well as from Greece, Italy and Egypt.
The Jewish community numbered up to five thousand people, mainly in Beirut at the start of the 20th century, and up to twenty-four thousand throughout the country after the Second World War. There were also communities in Saïda and Tripoli, as well as in certain villages. The Beirut community grew further to around ten thousand people after 1948, mainly thanks to traders. So much so that, during that decade, the city center had become a place of refuge for Jews from neighboring Arab countries facing repression. This detail provides valuable insight not only into the city’s flourishing commercial life but also into the tolerance that prevailed in Beirut. Nevertheless, the first attacks against the community also date back to the 1948 conflict. Waves of emigration then followed one after another throughout the various wars the country experienced: 1958, 1967, 1975–1990 (notably in 1984, with the kidnapping of eleven prominent Jewish figures as hostages and the assassination of some of them). The State of Israel, which encouraged immigration by offering material incentives, attracted mainly people from modest backgrounds. By the start of the Lebanese Civil War (1975–1990), the Jewish community numbered no more than 15,000. By the 1990s, it had shrunk to 2,000. Today, their number is estimated at fewer than 30. However, this figure does not take into account those with dual nationality, particularly American or European. Apart from Israel, many have moved to Syria (Aleppo, Damascus). Others have gone to the USA.
One interviewee told me that he had grown up in the 1960s in a four-storey house occupied entirely by Jews, with the landlord living on the top floor. Having become friends with one of the owner’s sons, who was the same age as him, he was the only non-Jew to be invited to his birthday party. His own father was a tailor, and he would often help out with small alterations without charging anything. When their flat became too small because the family had grown, they were able to move into one of the other flats in the building. He recalls that one day, the neighbor advised them not to go out the following day. That was the day the war broke out. The longer the war went on, the more Jews emigrated. One evening, the head of the household summoned the boy’s father to his home. The meeting lasted ten minutes. On his return, the father said nothing. But the next morning, several hundred Jews from the neighborhood had vanished all at once, never to return or give any sign of life, and no one knew how or where they had gone.
The cemetery
It is situated on the former ‘green line’, which separated West Beirut from East Beirut during the civil war, and was therefore right in the thick of the fighting, from which it suffered greatly. It had to be cleared of landmines after the war. It is guarded day and night by a sturdy, locked gate. The high walls enclose more than 3,500 graves, including those of a few well-known figures, such as rabbis and members of the Safra family. It was founded in 1829. The cemetery is adjacent to the site where the city’s French-speaking community currently gathers – the Franco-German cemetery – which means that, by climbing onto the roof of the former caretaker’s hut (now converted into a place of worship), one can catch a glimpse of it. Otherwise, it is completely inaccessible. Incidents of looting and vandalism have occurred occasionally over the past twenty years, and the damage inflicted by the civil war makes it partially hazardous. The cemetery was left in a state of neglect. From 1999 onwards, the remaining community began restoration work. In 2019, a violent hurricane caused further damage, as did the port explosion in 2020.
The Magen Abraham Synagogue
A few hundred meters from the sea, in what is now the city center of Beirut, stands the Magen Abraham Synagogue. It has been fully restored but remains inaccessible, closed and without any visitors. Situated near the Parliament and the apartments of senior officials, it is under heavy surveillance and is effectively isolated amidst streets that are always deserted. It was restored in 2010 and reopened in 2014, on the initiative of the Jewish community, but with the agreement of all the country’s political parties, including Hezbollah, which stated that it drew a distinction between the Jewish religion, ‘a divine religion’, and the State of Israel. However, no party contributed to its funding, which remained private and secret. It is possible that part of the funding came from one of Rafic Hariri’s companies. He had strongly supported the reconstruction of the city center as early as the 1980s. He served twice as Prime Minister (1992–1998 and 2000–2004). He died in an assassination a few months after his resignation. The synagogue was also damaged by the 2020 port explosion. It is the only one of the neighborhood’s 17 synagogues to have withstood the various political crises of the last century.