Shalom from Morocco!
Twenty-one travellers. Two guides – one Berber Moroccan, one Jewish Israeli. Four cities. And twenty-five hundred years of Moroccan Jewish history. We are having a wonderful time in this colourful country, which has been conquered by many empires, because of its coveted place between the ocean and the sea. With every change of rulership, the Jews were able to live here – and sometimes very well. They made a home in the cities along the coasts, in the high Atlas Mountains, on the plains, and even in the Sahara Desert. Each had their own dialect and customs, but they were united by the same Torah and the same ancestral faith. Only a remnant remains. From 250,000 to less than 2,000 today. Their last rabbinical school closed ten years ago.
But some of the people we have met along the way, give insight into the lasting strength of the Moroccan Jewish identity. At the Supreme Court, we met one of eight Jewish judges, selected by the community and employed by the Moroccan government to draw on both Rabbinic law and civil law to rule on select cases involving Jewish citizens. At the synagogue in Casablanca, we met the hairdresser to the king! He and his wife live half the year in Montreal, with their children and grandchildren, but they insist Casablanca will always be their home. At the expansive Jewish cemetery in Fes, we met a father and son from Paris, returning for the first time in forty years. We gathered around them, so they could say Kaddish for their loved ones in the presence of a minyan. Last night in Rabat, the current capital city, we met an impressive young man named Abdul. Born to a Jewish mother and a Muslim father, he leads the Mimouna Association, for Muslim students, dedicated to celebrating and preserving Moroccan and other African Jewish heritages. We look forward to welcoming Abdul to Toronto and reinforcing the important and all-too rare bridges he is building between Jews and Muslims. We enjoyed the warm hospitality of Dorit, who keeps a kosher home and is so loyal to the King, she will never leave Morocco. When asked, however, she quietly admitted that since October 7th, she has brought her mezuzah to hang on the inside of her doorframe.
While we tour artisan workshops, stroll along the casbahs, and walk the narrow alleyways of the ancient walled cities, we are very aware that a war is grinding on in Israel, Gaza, and Lebanon. We are horrified by the news of the attack against Israelis in Amsterdam. And many are fearful about what another Trump Presidency will bring. But it is peaceful here. We do not see any protests or kufiyahs here as we do in Toronto. Tonight, we will join the tightly guarded, state-protected Beth El congregation in Marrakesh for Kabbalat Shabbat. We will delight in the familiar words, set to foreign melodies. We will honour the rich Moroccan-Jewish heritage which shaped heroes like Maimonides, Alfasi, and Solika Hachuel. And we will stand in awe before the never-ending Jewish story.
Shabbat Shalom.
