Two days ago, Yisrael marked the seventy fifth anniversary of the U.N. vote to divide Eretz Yisrael into Arab and Jewish states. That event prompted a wave of exodus of Jews from Arab countries to the modern-day State of Yisrael. Even prior to that historical event, many Jews had been forced to leave their homes in Arab countries because of violent attacks against their community. They became refugees, albeit, forgotten refugees. It is time to remind our fellow Jews and the world of that part of our history, lest we forget. This is the story of one person and her family.
Rachel
Hazan was born in Bahgdad, the capital of modern-day Iraq. Though her father’s family
had originated in Iran, on her mother’s side the family had been there for as
far as they can remember, possibly since the Babylonian exile following the
destruction of the first Temple in Yerushalayim.
The
Jews of Iraq had a momentous two-thousand-year-old history. They lived as an
independent, homogeneous community which was not only a staunch guardian of Jewish
tradition but added immensely to it.
During
the 20’s and 30’s of the last century, this community influenced almost every
aspect of the Iraqi society, primarily in the economic arena. It founded
commercial bases in many of the middle eastern and far eastern ports as well as
in Europe and north America. Under the
hegemony of King Faisal the first, Jews had conducted an orderly life and lived
peacefully alongside their Arab neighbours. They regularly
contributed to the social, literary, and scientific life of the Iraqi culture.
This
was the world which Rachel was born into on an early day in the summer of 1925. She was the third child in a family of nine children.
As
a young woman who was reared and raised in a conservative environment, Rachel was
never sent to school. Her father who was a skilled carpenter, earned a good
living and provided the family with all their needs. Other than sending her learning and mastering the skill of sewing, Rachel was destined to stay home and help her
mother raise her younger brothers and sisters
Unfortunately,
all good things come to an end. The peace and tranquility which were the lot of
the Iraqi Jews, ceased with the outbreak of WWII. As a result of the ascension
of Nazism in Europe, coupled with the assassination of King Faisal, in 1937 and
the pact between the Mufti, Hajj Amin al Husseini and Hitler, antisemitism reared
its ugly head again. It also cascaded into Iraq and the surrounding countries
in the Arab world.
The
Jews of Iraq were subjected to many harsh edicts that were imposed upon them.
They were constantly harassed and threatened by their Arab neighbours. The attacks on them culminated in
1941 in what came to be known as the Farhud (Arabic term which means “pogrom”
or “violent dispossession”). It erupted on June 1st and lasted for
two days. During that time, mobs assaulted Jews, Jewish businesses, and homes.
According to the official report of the commission investigating the incident, “128
Jews were killed, 210 were injured, and over 1500 businesses were damaged.”
Fortunately, the Hazan family was spared any attacks of violence. Their neighbours
with whom they were in very good relationships, protected and defended them.
Unfortunately
for many other Iraqi Jews, most of their Arab neighbours were not as kind. They
either, actively, partook in the attacks or simply stood idly and watched from
afar.
The
Farhud, as history illustrates, raised Jewish national awareness, and increased
the number of Iraqi Jews who joined the Zionist organizations which operated as
an underground movement and, eventually, prompted many Jews to emigrate to
Yisrael. That desire did not escape the Hazan Family.
The
first step towards making that move was initiated by her uncle Ya’acov. A short
time after the Farhud, he decided to move his family to Yerushalayim in search of
starting a new and better life there.
Noteworthy
to mention here is that in those days, one passport was issued to all members
of one family regardless of the number of siblings.
Taking advantage of such a rule, Ya’acov returned to Iraq and suggested that
Ezra, Rachel’s oldest brother join him, as his son, and accompany him to
Yerushalayim. A year and a half later, the Hazan family began to sell their
assets, home, business, and many personal items. Part of that money was sent
through one of their trustworthy Arab employees to Yisrael who, in turn, bought
a plot of land for them in the Hatikvah neighbourhood of Tel Aviv. Her mother
went to Basra, where her brother resided to apply for passports for the family.
Naturally, they were prohibited from mentioning Yisrael as their destination.
Once
their passports were in place, the plan of their route of escape to the
promised land continued to be woven and started to
take shape.
Since, as we all know too well, the British limited the number of Jews that were
allowed to emigrate to Yisrael, Rachel and her family had an arduous and
challenging project ahead of them. That is where the Jewish Agency which
operated in Iraq in a clandestine manner entered the picture.
To avoid any suspicion, the Agency advised
Rachel’s father to move to Turkey first. From Turkey, the family traveled to
Syria under the pretext of seeking medical treatment for Rachel and her sister
Victoria. Since they had taken too much luggage along with them, the Agency
relieved them of some and promised to deliver it to Yisrael where it eventually
waited for them.
The
family spent one week in Syria. From there, it crossed the border to Lebanon.
In order to reach the Yisraeli Lebanese border, the family had to travel four
hours by car and then on for six hours, not an easy mission for a family with eight
children some of whom were still very young, including one baby.
Luckily,
they were guided by a Jewish Iraqi police officer who was employed by the
British but also worked for the Jewish Agency. The officer also happened to be
the son of one of the Hazans’ close friends in Baghdad. It was his task to
ensure that they cross the border from Lebanon to Yisrael and safely reach Kfar
Gila’di which was situated near the border with only an asphalt road separating
between the two places.
At
that spot, however, there was also positioned a British Military base. Hence,
one had to be overly cautious not to be noticed.
Much
to their dismay, that was a rainy night which was interspersed with the
occasional showers of heavy hail.
Just
as they were all ready to cross the road to freedom, a British soldier came out
of his tent, turned on his projector and inspected the area, as always, looking,
mainly, for Jewish illegal immigrants who were trying to make their way to a
home that had been given to them by a decree of the family of nations. Fortunately, they were able to hide in a pit alongside
the road, in an angle that the British soldier’s projector missed.
Drenched,
shivering hungry and covered with mud, they finally reached Kfar Gila’di where
they were provided with a room, hot water, and a nutritious warm meal. The
police officer who had escorted them could not stay with them. As an officer in
the service of his royal highness, King George the VI, he had to pretend and
act in a “business as usual” manner yet made sure that all their needs were
satisfied.
After
a few days, he arranged for them to be transported to the central bus stop in
Haifa where they finally reunited with their uncle Ya’acov, his son Yoseph and
their oldest brother Ezra whom they had not seen in a few years. The three had
all moved to Tel Aviv a short while earlier.
Unfortunately,
however, it was not yet time to breath a sigh of relief. It was almost Shabbat,
when they eventually reached Haifa, and no buses were available to transfer
them to Tel Aviv, their final destination. After a persistent persuasion
process which lasted close to ten hours, a bus was finally furnished for the large family as well as for some other Jewish immigrants
who had just arrived at the shores of their future Homeland.
For
a whole year, following their arrival, the Hazan family lived in a tent which the
father set up on the property that they had purchased earlier. Later, a hut, constructed
of wood and stone, replaced the tent which was later succeeded by a comfortable
house which stands there until this very day and where Rachel still resides.
Rachel is surrounded and wrapped by the love of her four children, thirteen
grandchildren and twelve great grandchildren. We wish her many more years of
abundant health, nachat and sheer bliss.
Note:
By 1951, ten years after the Farhud, 92 percent of the Iraqi Jewish community
had emigrated to the State of Yisrael.
