Lag B'Omer in Tunisia

Quite different than in Israel and the U.S.
June 05, 2008 - Bryan Schwartzman, Staff Writer

A sign welcomes Jewish pilgrims to the La Ghriba synagogue and annual Lag B'Omer festival on the Tunisian island of Djerba. Photos by Bryan Schwartzman

In the dimly lit sanctuary, row after row of candles served to eerily frame the room, suggesting that a very old, mysterious ritual might be taking place.

A group of women had massed together in the far corner of the area, scrawling their names, as well as some prayers, on eggs; it is said that placing the eggs in that spot in this impressive synagogue will bring the gift of fertility. A large wooden structure that everyone referred to as a menorah -- but which bore no resemblance to anything associated with Chanukah or even a candelabra of any sort -- was adorned with dozens of scarves in deep, striking colors. And women just kept piling on more.

Right outside, in a vast, walled area, there was a different scene entirely, one that might best be likened to a medieval bizarre. Thousands of Jews, many dressed in vibrant hues, packed an area shot through with the smell of spices and an almost overpowering thrum of discordant voices.

Musicians supplied traditional tunes in both Hebrew and Arabic, while loan drummers roamed the crowd, keeping to a beat all their own. Vendors peddled their wares while a baker prepared fresh brik -- egg yokes wrapped inside a hot pastry. High-spirited men and women took turns dousing each other with water or nursing bottles of locally brewed beers.

Welcome to Lag B'Omer, Djerba-style.

Djerba is a 200-square-mile island off the southeast coast of Tunisia, a North African nation bordered by Algeria and Libya. Its arid soil and sandy beaches are practically infused with legend: The Mediterranean isle is said to have provided the inspiration for the land of the lotus-eaters in Homer's Odyssey.

It's also said that Jews first came here soon after the Babylonians destroyed Solomon's Temple in Jerusalem in 586 BCE. They probably didn't arrive until hundreds of years later; either way, they've been here a long time.

Tradition holds that the La Ghriba, or "the miraculous" synagogue, which is situated near the center of the island, is built on a site that contains an original stone from the first Temple. That is just one possible explanation for why La Ghriba has become an important pilgrimage site for Jews of North African descent.

And it's here that Lag B'Omer is celebrated in a far different fashion than in Israel -- or practically anyplace else in the Jewish world.

'Entirely Unfamiliar to Me'
"I have been in Sephardic shuls before, and although I am sure I witnessed Judaism in the La Ghriba Beit Knesset, it was a brand of Judaism entirely unfamiliar to me," said 25-year-old David Ben Yisrael, a Boston-area native who recently made aliyah and traveled to Djerba out of curiosity.

Thousands of Jews of Tunisian descent, who now live mostly in France and Israel, packed into the compound built to accommodate the La Ghriba festival.

The holiday observance recalls the end of a plague that killed more than 20,000 of Rabbi Akiba's students in ancient Israel nearly 2,000 years ago. The holiday is associated with bonfires in the Jewish state, and a large gathering takes place near Tzfat at the grave of the talmudic sage Shimon Bar Yochai, whose yahrzeit is said to fall on the 33rd day of the counting of the Omer.

According to Norman A. Stillman, a major historian of the region, many North African communities have made their own imprint on Lag B'Omer, using it to honor a number of rabbis, as well as historical and legendary figures that hailed from the area.

This year, more than 6,000 Jews, most of whom have Tunisian roots and now live primarily in France and Israel, traveled to the island that is home to a tight-knit and very observant Jewish community of about 1,500. Many Jews here are skilled jewelry-makers and own shops in Houmt Shuk, the island's main town, all of which are clearly identified with Hebrew writing. The Djerba community supports several synagogues, and a boys' and girls' yeshiva.

"There is not another country in the Arab world where you can see this kind of outward expression of Jewishness," said Jerry Sorkin, a Philadelphia Main Line resident, as he stood outside the La Ghriba synagogue. Sorkin, formerly a well-known rug purveyor in Wayne, first visited Tunisia in 1983 and has organized high-end tours to the country since then.

A procession into a nearby village (right) featured a wooden ark covered with scarves.

More than 100,000 Jews called Tunisia home in 1956, when the country declared independence from France, but the bulk of the community left the country by the end of the 1960s. With that exodus, attendance at the festival began to fall precipitously.

But that began to change in 1995, when Israel and Tunisia established diplomatic relations, a politic move that reassured many Jews that they would be welcome visitors in a country perhaps best known then for hosting Yasser Arafat and the Palestine Liberation Organization. (Tunisia broke off its relations with Israel in 2000, after the collapse of peace talks and the start of the second intifada.)

Almost Didn't Take Place
Still, six years ago, after attendance and media coverage had been steadily building about the festival, it nearly didn't take place at all.

On April 11, 2002, just two weeks before the start of Lag B'Omer, a truck exploded just outside the nearly 80-year-old synagogue building, killing 21 people, the majority of whom were German tourists. The driver was also killed; according to news reports, it remains unclear whether or not he was a Tunisian national.

Authorities later linked the bombing to an Al Qaeda splinter group. The Tunisian government covered the costs of synagogue repairs and provided heavy security. That year, only a few hundred people turned out to celebrate the holiday in the wake of the tragedy.

A carnival-like atmosphere pervaded the celebration.

According to Perez Trabelsi, president and spokesperson of the Djerban Jewish community, this year's attendance was the largest since the bombing, and he predicted that the numbers would climb even higher if Israelis were able to fly directly to Tunisia. (Now, most make the connection via Paris.)

Trabelsi, who spoke in French through an interpreter, added that Djerba is an island where Jews, Arabs and Berbers -- the Maghreb's original inhabitants -- have always coexisted and enjoyed warm relations.

Nevertheless, uniformed police, as well as checkpoints and roadblocks, seem to be everywhere throughout the island, although there hasn't been a serious terrorist attack since 2002. In fact, in order to get there -- and perhaps partake of its dozens of beach resorts and numerous golf courses -- drivers must pass through several checkpoints before and after crossing by bridge or ferry.

Those heading to the festival this year had to wait in long lines and then pass through metal detectors.

At around 5:30 in the afternoon, without warning, waves of people emerged from the synagogue area and began moving as one mass group, proceeding in a steady flow. The "menorah," which was still draped in bold colored scarves, rose in the middle of the crowd, seemingly of its own accord. It was, in actuality, sitting atop a moped, which, with the assistance of celebrants, guided the wooden structure steadily forward.

The sea of Jews inched from the synagogue toward the village of Hara Sghira, which has a mixed Jewish and Muslim population. An overwhelming security force looked on. Hundreds, if not thousands, of uniformed patrolman were visible, some standing on rooftops, positioning their rifles on the crowd as the procession descended from the main thoroughfare and on into the narrow, winding streets.

The show of force simultaneously provided comfort that a terrorist attack would be thwarted, while instilling just an edge of fear as well.

"Some people call Tunisia a police state. It thrives on tourism, so [the powers that be] don't need any disturbances," Nejib Ayachi, president of the Maghreb Center, a Washington, D.C. think tank that focuses on North Africa, said in a phone interview.

A number of Arab children also watched from the streets and their doorways, cheering when the procession leader offered praise and thanks to Tunisia.

More than an hour later, the marchers returned to the synagogue, where they were greeted by Khelil Lajimi, Tunisia's minister of tourism.

"All the Tunisians will do their best to preserve this solidarity, this friendship," Lajimi said, according to a translator, as he spoke inside the packed synagogue to the Jewish crowd.

Then, clearly without coercion, people began chanting in Arabic: "Ben Ali, 2009."

They were referring to Zine el Abidine Ben Ali, who has ruled the country since 1987 and is only the second president that Tunisia has had since it became independent. Large posters of the man are so ubiquitous throughout the country that it's impossible to spend a few days there and not know what he looks like.

The 71-year-old's term expires next year.

"He won't face any serious opposition in the 2009 presidential elections because he will run practically unopposed, given that the Tunisian political system doesn't allow serious contenders to emerge and challenge effectively the current president," said the scholar Ayachi.

Admirers credit Ben Ali and his predecessor with steering Tunisia in the direction of moderation and modernity in a region of the world threatened by Islamic radicalism and instability. Ayachi pointed out that, as far back as 1962, the first president of Tunisia advocated that Palestinians make a peace deal with Israel, a position that drew the ire of much of the Arab world.

The country of 10 million people -- which over the centuries has been shaped by Phoenician, Roman, Jewish, Arabic and European influences -- was rated by the World Economic Forum as the most competitive economy in Africa, and is known for its low rate of poverty, high rate of literacy and the number of opportunities available to women. But critics also contend that it's a place where the political leadership controls the press and routinely jails opponents.

Sorkin argued that the government genuinely wants to protects the remaining Jews, and that the community's affection for Ben Ali is equally genuine, since they're allowed to express their heritage openly. (On the other hand, Ayachi noted that if anyone would have yelled "down with Ben Ali," they may not have made it home that night.)

Why do Jews maintain a special attachment to Tunisia and return each year for the festival?

According to scholar Stillman, author of The Jews of Arab Lands and a history professor at the University of Oklahoma, in the years following the establishment of Israel, the Jewish communities of Tunisia and Morocco were not subjected to the same kind of government-sponsored violence and intimidation that took place in places like Egypt, Iraq, Syria and Libya.

To be sure, Tunisia had its share of anti-Semitism and even riots against Jewish businesses -- particularly in the wake of the 1967 Six-Day War -- but former president Habib Bourguiba acted precipitously to quell such violence and ensure Jewish safety, according to Stillman.

"North Africa is not a giant Jewish graveyard the way Europe is," he said.

After the procession had disbursed, few festival-goers seemed in the mood to discuss politics. Some lingered, swapping stories of the day with strangers; others caught buses back to their hotels.

Trabelsi, the community president, projected a feeling that the day had gone well. Through a translator, he said, with evident pride, that "the merits of Tunisia and Djerba are really unique in the world."

Bryan Schwartzman participated in a recent press trip sponsored by the Tunisian Tourism Office in Washington, D.C.