AS IS WELL KNOWN, the long arm of the Arab-Israeli conflict reached far beyond the geographical borders of Palestine. Prior to the creation of the State of Israel in 1948, somewhere between 700,000 and 850,000 Jews lived in inveterate communities spread throughout the Middle East and North Africa. By the end of the century, all the historic communities of the region (with the partial exceptions of Morocco and Iran) were to meet a single fate - dislocation and dispersal - effectively vanishing with nary a trace left in their countries of origin. These were indigenous communities (in some cases, present in area for millennia) whose unique, syncretic cultures have since been completely expunged as a result of emigration - whether to Israel, where they were subjected to a systematic program of deracmation and resocialization, or to the West, where in most places Jewish more or less synonymous with Ashkenazi and the concept of Jews from the world (and remains) little known or understood. The disappearance of the dialects of spoken Arabic, of written Judeo-Arabic, and, more recently, of the last generation of writers of literary Arabic, all silently sound the death knell of a certain world - that which S. D. Goitein dubbed the Jewish-Arab symbiosis, and that which Ammiel Alcalay sought to recapture in his groundbreaking book After Jews and Arabs.1This essay is concerned not only with this displaced population and its lost history but principally with the evocation of both subjects through a concept gaining increasing acceptance and purchase in academic discourse, namely, the Arab Jew. Numerically, the total population of Middle Eastern and North African Jews prior to 1948 hovers under the million mark, and this is perhaps one of the reasons its historic experience has been so eclipsed by the cataclysmic events that befell European Jewry in the twentieth century. Yet due to its historic location betwixt and between things Jewish and things Arab, this population's symbolic importance belies its small numbers. Whichever way you look at it, the not-so-simple fact of Jews who are or Arabs who are raises all sorts of problems and possibilities ripe for exploration, interpretation, and manipulation - and people are beginning to notice. Paradoxically, even as so much of language, culture, and historic memory slips away like gossamer threads carried off on the wind of a quickly receding past, the reappropriation - some might even say the commodification - of the Arab (now as a largely symbolic figure) accelerates in kind. The renewed interest in the figure of the Jew and in the lost past is perhaps best evidenced by the multilingual swell of documentary films, memoirs, novels, and even cookbooks-cum-community histories (which I call culinary nostalgia) produced by Jews and their descendants (primarily from Iraq and Egypt) in recent years.2 At the same time, as Emily Gottreich points out in her essay, the political capital of the Jew has not gone unrecognized by activists from either right or left.5The term Arab was in fact reclaimed by scholars such Ella Shohat, Sami Shalom Chetrit, and Yehouda Shenhav as part of a political project of intervention into the normative terms of Zionist discourse.4 This project evolved from a history of Mizrahi activism, which began as a protest movement responding to the discriminatory economic, social, and cultural treatment of Mizrahim (non-European Jews) in Israel.5 Shohat's pivotal 1988 article Sephardim in Israel6 emerged at a moment of symbiotic activity between activism and scholarship, but the past decade or so has witnessed what Moshe Behar calls the academization of the Mizrahi cause.7 Although scholarly research on the history of Jews in the Middle East and North Africa has of course been carried out by scholars in Israel, Europe, and North America for several decades, it has been conducted largely in isolation from the Mizrahi issue and its scholarly outgrowth. …
Search from 250 M+ research papersSearch from 250 M+ research papers
Dec 16, 2009
Yann Scioldo-Zürcher + 1
Open Access