370 Years Portuguese Jewry
in North America
|
|
(For a PDF download, see below)
Residence of the Portuguese Ambassador, Washington DC, September 12, 2024 Thank you Afraim, for your introduction and for organizing this auspicious event. Thank you, your excellency, ambassador Francisco Duarte Lopes, for your exceeding generosity and hospitality. Thanks to all those you have made this event possible; the Sephardic Heritage International board members Maurice Shohet, Marguerite Adams, Leila Levy, Alan Makovsky and director Afraim Katzir. And welcome to everyone here today, some of you from DC or close by, others from quite far away. A special welcome to the special envoy of the Department of State, Ellen Germain. Also a special welcome to Hakham Isaac Sassoon, Rabbi Steven Golden, Rabbi Dr. Ari Soussan, and Mr. Eli Gabbay, parnaas of Congregation Mikweh Israel in Philadelphia. I am Rabbi Sjimon den Hollander. Today, we celebrate 370 years of Portuguese Jewry in America. Or, put differently, 370 years of North American Jewish life. Because not only did Judaism in North America begin with the arrival of Portuguese Jews, it was for an extended period of time, identical with Portuguese Jewry. Exactly 370 years ago, in September 1654, the first group of 23 Jewish settlers arrived in New Amsterdam, but not by choice. These Jews came from Recife, the capital of Pernambuco, Brazil. They had settled in Recife when it was governed by the Dutch West India Company. The Dutch had captured Recife from Portugal in 1630, had renamed it Mauritsstad (Mauritstown; Maurits then the state-holder of Holland), and had made it the capital of New Holland (i.e. Dutch Brazil). During that 24-year period, it had been a safe haven for Jews, who - living under Dutch governance – enjoyed freedom to practice their religion. The Netherlands, and by extension the territories governed by the East and West India Companies, were at the time an important exception to the rule in respect to freedom of religion. After Portugal reconquered Pernambuco, the Jews had no longer a future in Brazil and fled to safety elsewhere. By the way, the Portuguese victors only allowed Jews to leave who had come there during the Dutch period. New Christians who had returned to Judaism under the Dutch were not allowed to leave and were cast back under the scourge of the Inquisition. Let us briefly go back in history and see how these Jews had ended up in Recife in the first place. Back in 1492, the Spanish royals Ferdinand of Aragon and Isabella of Castille, had issued an Edict of Expulsion, thereby forcing the Jews under their reign to choose between converting to Christianity or leaving the country. An extremely hard imposition, especially for those of moderate means who had no place to go and no capital to start a new life elsewhere. In addition, over the centuries, the Jews of Spain had become very much identified with the Iberian history and culture. It is therefore no wonder that, instead of moving overseas to Italy, to North Africa, to territories inside the Ottoman Empire, or north to Southern France, many Spanish Jews chose to resettle in Portugal instead, which was not only closer in terms of location, but also culturally and linguistically. Portugal would not remain a safe haven for long. Only four years later, on the 5th of December 1496, King Manuel I, who wanted to marry the Spanish crown princess Isabella (daughter of the just mentioned infamous Ferdinand and Isabella) gave in to the pressure of his in-laws-to-be and decreed that by October of the following year all Jews must either convert or leave the country. However, before the October deadline date, he changed this Edict of Expulsion into an Edict of Forced Conversion. In other words, the Jews of Portugal were prevented from leaving and were forcefully converted to Christianity. From that moment on, these so-called New Christians were supposed to be good Christians, but were, at the same time, suspected of not being sincere in their new Christian faith, possibly not without reason. To make things worse, in 1536, the Portuguese Inquisition was established. That meant that, at any given time, Jews could be arrested and imprisoned because of alleged Judaizing. Judaizing means harboring Jewish beliefs or practicing Jewish traditions. People accused of this were routinely tortured until they confessed. It is commonly held that certain groups or families secretly indeed did continue to practice certain Jewish traditions, but there is great contention if this is historically true and if so, to what degree. In his book “The Marrano factory”, the late Professor Herman Prins Salomon, who was in all likelihood the greatest expert on the Portuguese Inquisition, defended the position that at a certain point, all secretive Jewish practice had ceased, while other like to believe the opposite. In any case, secretly practicing Judaism or not, New Christians with Jewish ancestors where exposed to intrusive and discriminating treatment, and often tried to find greener and safer pastures elsewhere. This led a growing group of Portuguese New Christians to Amsterdam. The Dutch were less interested in imposing their religious identity on others than in the economic benefits that these Portuguese newcomers brought with them. After arriving in Amsterdam, most Portuguese immigrants embraced their ancestral Jewish religion, which seems to indicate at least some level of affinity with Judaism or some predisposition toward adopting a Jewish identity, in contradiction perhaps to Professor Salomon’s certainly valid proofs and arguments. Portuguese Jews thrived in Amsterdam. Some of you may have visited the Esnoga, the Portuguese Synagogue of that city, a testimony of the community’s confidence, which will celebrate the 350th anniversary of its completion next year. Even though the members of the Amsterdam Portuguese community no longer speak Portuguese, remnants of its roots can still be discerned: the prayer of the royal family and the government is still said in Portuguese until this day, and so are the blessings for congregants after they are called up to the Torah, as well as certain announcements, and no small number of expressions. But Portuguese Jews did not confine themselves to Amsterdam. They sought opportunities everywhere they would find liberal and tolerant laws. This is how they ended up in Recife – Dutch Mauritsstad – a place that would have suited them well, as Portuguese culture and language were very much present there, even when the Dutch were in charge. When, in 1654, Portugal reconquered Pernambuco, this meant a return of the Inquisition to the region and an end to religious freedom for Jews. The Jews of Pernambuco therefore swiftly moved away, often to Dutch territories such as Curaçao. Others chose to return to Amsterdam. On ship with 23 Portuguese Jews on board set out for Amsterdam but was captured on its way by pirates and brought to New Amsterdam where the buccaneers hoped to receive ransom from the local Jewish community. Unfortunately for them, New Amsterdam did not have a Jewish community, just three individuals are known: Asser Levy, Solomon Pietersen, and Jacob Barsimon, an Ashkenazi Jew who had fled Recife very shortly before the 23 did (they most certainly knew each other), and who was instrumental in achieving their release. After some back-and-forth with the authorities, the Jews were allowed to stay, and this event thereby constituted the beginning of the first Jewish congregation in North America. This group would eventually establish Congregation Shearith Israel, also know as the Spanish and Portuguese Synagogue, still America’s oldest Jewish congregation, located in the same city, now called New York. It was after the American Revolution that, perhaps out of patriotic fervor, this community changed the prayer for the government from Portuguese to English. But a number of expressions still remain. For instance, a yad, a small silver hand with an extended index finger used during the reading of the Torah is also called a pointeiro. Lifting up the opened Torah scroll to show it to the congregation is in most communities hagbahá, but at Shearith Israel, and its sister congregation Mikveh Israel in Philadelphia it is called levantár. A drawer under one’s seat for personal belongings is called a gavéta, to give a few examples. Members of Portuguese Jewish Congregations were quite often not of Portuguese descent, but as Portuguese Judaism was the established Jewish tradition, for centuries, Jews from Germany, Poland, and other places would adopt the minhag ha-maqóm; the Portuguese-Jewish customs and mores. Many congregants have made significant contributions to American society. Some, like Jonas Phillips, served in the Revolutionary army. The merchant Hayim Solomon, who came from Poland to New York and during the American Revolution moved to Philadelphia, became the prime financier of the Continental Congress and of the American Revolution in general. He gave up his entire fortune on loan and died penniless when he was never paid back. There was Bernard Hart, who was secretary of the New York Stock Exchange, Naphtali Phillips, who owned a newspaper, and Sampson Simson, who founded the Jews’ Hospital, later renamed Mount Sinai Hospital. We must mention Bejamin Nathan Cardozo, the first Jewish Supreme Court Justice. And of course, there is Emma Lazarus, who was born in 1849 and who died in 1887, at the age of only 38. Emma wrote numerous poems, including beautiful translations of French and Italian poetry, as well as many German poems by celebrated poets such as Goethe and Heinrich Heine. Emma Lazarus was also an activist who worked for the welfare of Jewish refugees who had fled antisemitic pogroms in eastern Europe. Of course, Emma Lazarus is best known for her sonnet “The New Colossus”, a section of which appears on a bronze plaque placed in 1903 on the pedestal of the Statue of Liberty. The sonnet was written by Lazarus in 1183 and was directly inspired by her being moved by the fate of the Jews of eastern Europe. “Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land; Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame. “Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”
And this brings us back to the topic of anti-Jewish oppression, expulsions, refugees, and the search for safety and refuge. I think it is highly significant that Emma Lazarus, who was a direct descendent of the Jews who fled from Recife and arrived exactly 370 years ago as captives in New Amsterdam, that she would extend a compassionate and helping hand to Jewish refugees herself; and that her words, which can be called prophetic, not in the definition of predicting the future but in the sense of being a reminder of proper human behavior, striving for justice and compassion; that these words are engraved in what is still perhaps the best known symbol of liberty, safety, and opportunity. Jews from Portugal have gone a long way, and their journey from persecution is meaningful and inspiring, and may therefore not be forgotten. And thus, we are here today. Auspiciously, on this very day, the New York City Council voted to make “Landing Day’ into an annual event on the City Calendar. For an oppressed nation (the Nacão, as the Portuguese Jews called themselves) can rise to greatness if guided by hopes and dreams, by ideals and proper values and ethos. Needless to say, this is not only true for Jews but for any community that is determined and directed in the right way. At the conclusion of my speech, I would like to offer the ambassador a small gift. This is a copy of a book by the late Professor Herman Prins Salomon, whom I have mentioned a few times. It was recently, posthumously, published after it was completed by João Felix Almeida. It throws a light on a period / a stage in this long history that I just tried to sketch in a condensed way, namely that of the Portuguese Inquisition and the fate of the New Christians. Os Gravames Dos Cristãos Novos is a work containing (firstly) a petition that a group of New Christians submitted with a list of sixteen grievances about their treatment by the inquisition, and (secondly), a reply to each of these grievances by the Inquisitor-General António Ribeiro de Abreu, commonly known as “Falsifado do Padro Vieira Convencida”; “Falsification of Father Vieira Convencida”. This Falsifado is one of four writings by the hand of this Inquisitor. This book offers insight into a world that – may we all hope and pray – should forever belong to the past. 
|
| ||