Semha Alwaya
In discussions about refugees in the Middle East, a major piece of the narrative is routinely omitted, and my life is part of the tapestry of what’s missing. I am a Jew, and I, too, am a refugee. Some of my childhood was spent in a refugee camp in Israel (yes, Israel). And I am far from being alone.
This experience is shared by hundreds of thousands of other indigenous Jewish Middle Easterners who share a similar background to my own. However, unlike the Palestinian Arabs, our narrative is largely ignored by the world because our story — that of some 900,000 Jewish refugees from Arab countries dispossessed by Arab governments — is an inconvenience for those who seek to blame Israel for all the problems in the Middle East.
Our lives in the Israel of the 1950s were difficult. We had no money, no property; there were food shortages, few employment prospects. Israel was a new and poor country with very limited resources. It absorbed not only hundreds of thousands of us, but also an equal number of survivors of Hitler’s genocide. We lived in dusty tents in “transit camps,” their official name because these were to be temporary, not permanent.
Housing was eventually built for us, we became Israeli citizens, and we ceased being refugees. The refugee camps in Israel that I knew as a child were phased out, and no trace of them remains. Israel did this without receiving a single cent from the international community, relying instead on the resourcefulness of its citizens and donations from Diaspora Jewish communities. Today, many of Israel’s top leaders are from families that were forced to flee Arab countries, and we make up more than half of Israel’s Jewish population.
I was born in Baghdad, and like most other Iraqis, my mother tongue is Arabic. My family’s cuisine, our mannerisms, our outlook, are all strongly influenced by our synthesized Judeo-Arabic culture.
There once was a vibrant presence of nearly 1 million Jews residing in 10 Arab countries. Our Middle Eastern Jewish culture existed long before the Arab world dominated and rewrote the history of the Middle East. Today, however, fewer than 12,000 Jews remain in these lands — almost none in Iraq.
What happened to us, the indigenous Jews of the Arab world? Why were 150, 000 Iraqi Jews — my family included — forced out of Iraq? Why were an additional 800,000 Jews from nine other Arab countries also compelled to leave after 1948?
Iraqi Resources
