MEMORIES OF EDEN : A Journey Through Jewish Baghdad
by Violette Shamash (Author), Tony Rocca (Editor), Mira Rocca (Editor)

Available from Amazon UK

http://www.memoriesofeden.com/

The book has been edited from the  notes and diaries of  Violette 
Shamash,  by her daughter and son-in-law. In the forward written 
by  Professor Shmuel Moreh of the Hebrew University, he says that the 
memoirs of the Jewish community in Iraq have come chiefly from men 
and waver between "the sentimental and embittered". Shamash has 
remarkably little bitterness.  Below is an except from an article by 
Ian Jack on February 2, 2008 The Guardian, London

In 1941, Jews in Iraq numbered 300,000 out of a population of around 
2 million. Jews made up 40% of Baghdad's population. Their ancestors 
had been in Iraq since the Babylonian captivity 2,600 years before.

Shamash, who was born in 1912, grew up in a harmonious city that at 
the end of the first world war had barely changed since the 17th 
century. As an outpost of the Ottoman empire, modernity had hardly 
touched it. "My earliest memories are of water and heat," she writes 
of a city where the summer temperatures could easily reach 122F and 
most goods came up the Tigris on a guffa, a kind of coracle 
waterproofed in bitumen. She was born into a prosperous family - her 
father, a trader and money-changer, built a big house across the 
river from where the Green Zone now lies - but the lavatory was still 
a repugnant slit in the ground. Simple things were unheard of; "when 
the first watches appeared, children would stand on the street 
corner, waiting to ask any prosperous-looking passer-by if he could 
tell them the time." Houses had thick, windowless walls to keep out 
the heat and cold, and also to protect them from the great Baghdad 
problem, thievery. Doctors were few and medicine expensive; every 
year small plagues of cholera and dysentery claimed a crop of victims.

Eden? Shamash concedes it was "primitive", but then remembers the 
compensations: salads eaten with lemon and salt, orchards of oranges, 
pomegranates, peaches, almonds and walnuts, country excursions to see 
the shrine of Ezekiel. More important, the Jews felt themselves 
integrated. Her father wore a fez and a big moustache. Jewish women 
dressed like their Muslim counterparts in long robes, pantaloons, 
headscarves and veils. Their influence on the city's life was so 
great that Saturday rather than Friday became Baghdad's day of rest. 
Jews were virtually the only instrumentalists in the whole of Iraq. 
The Baghdad Symphony Orchestra was entirely Jewish from conductor 
down to kettle-drum, and when Radio Iraq got its own band going in 
1936 it contained only one Muslim musician.

But by then Iraq was changing very quickly, as a new country cobbled 
by the British in 1921 out of three Ottoman vilayets or provinces and 
rewarded with a king, Faisal, imported from Saudi Arabia. The Jews 
liked the British and that increased the distrust of the Muslims Oil, 
the principal reason for British interest, was discovered in vast 
quantities near Kirkuk in 1927. Though the British mandate ran out in 
1932, Britain perpetuated its political control through Faisal's 
playboy son, Ghazi, who inherited the throne and ruled ineffectually 
until his sports car met a tree in 1939.

Westernisation had arrived and was dividing the country between 
modernisers and traditionalists. Shamash chronicles its impact in 
small, specific ways: bobbed hair on women, the first cigarettes, 
cinemas showing Chaplin.

The western import with the most far-reaching effect, however, was 
Zionism. Iraqi Jews were anti-Zionist, perhaps out of a 
self-interested desire not to rock their own boat, but that didn't 
stop the "Save Palestine" movement spreading to Iraq and with it a 
rash of anti-semitic violence. Then the war broke out and, as Shamash 
writes, "its contagious sickness spread to Baghdad". Arab nationalism 
was pro-Nazi. She was married by now - an arranged marriage - and 
desperate to leave with her husband and child.

A coup brought a pro-Nazi group led by a lawyer, Rashid Ali, to power 
in 1941 and sent the regent (the new king was only five years old) 
packing. The farhud, or pogrom, came soon after. In the first days of 
June, 1941, during the celebration of the Pentecost, at least 187 
people died when mobs attacked Baghdad's Jewish homes and businesses.

In an appendix to Shamash's book, her son-in-law, Tony Rocca, shows 
clearly that it should never have happened. The new Iraqi regime had 
crumbled and the British army was already encamped on the outskirts 
of Baghdad, under orders from Churchill and Lt. General Wavell to 
take the city. If the army had entered as they wanted to, there would 
have been no massacre. Sir Kinahan Cornwallis, the British 
ambassador, was the obstacle. He had signed a generous armistice 
which declared (not for the last time) that Britain's enemies were 
not the Iraqi people but a particular personage: Rashid Ali. To 
re-install the regent with the support of British troops would have 
rubbed Iraqi noses in their defeat, and made the truth - that Britain 
ran the show - too obvious.

Shamash and her family escaped to India later that year and moved 
eventually, via Palestine and Cyprus, to London. Thousands followed 
them. Between 1951 and 1952, about 120,000 Jews were airlifted from 
Iraq to Israel. In 2006, according to her book, about a dozen 
families remained in Baghdad, still with a rabbi.

Reading Memories of Eden, a book not so much about politics and 
history as about vanished pleasure, it is hard to resist the thought 
that everything could have been different were it not for the 
poisoned apple of oil. Iraq had for a time at least the roots of a 
harmonious, multicultural state, which in the Middle East is now only 
to be dreamed of. In this way, Shamash's book is both a memorial and 
an instruction saying: "See, it is not impossible."




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