I'd like to express my gratitude to the Canadian committee on foreign affairs and international development for calling this hearing. It is my hope that the current Canadian government will advance the rights of Jews indigenous to the Middle East and North Africa.
I am a Jewish refugee from Libya and the co-founder of JIMENA, Jews Indigenous to the Middle East and North Africa, an organization seeking to educate and advocate on behalf of over 850,000 Jewish refugees from the region. Today I would like to share my story, just as I told it to the United States congressional human rights caucus.
I am here to break the silence surrounding the expulsion of nearly one million Jews indigenous to the Middle East. Jews had lived in my native Libya and the rest of the region for over 2,000 years. When I was born in 1948, there were about 36,000 living in Libya; by 1967 there were only 6,000; and today, ladies and gentlemen, my whole community is extinct.
I grew up in a middle-class Jewish community. My father, Rahmin Bublil, imported oil equipment for companies. My father often spoke of the 1945 Mora’ot, a pogrom that took place in Tripoli, when anti-Jewish mobs took to the streets and murdered over 145 Libyan Jews. He buried the severed bodies of his own friends. During the pogrom, my mother escaped the mobs by running from one rooftop to another until a Christian woman saved her life.
When I was born, the Jewish community of Tripoli constituted almost 30% of the total population of the city. My family had lived in Libya for over two millennia, but we were denied citizenship. We were denied basic rights. We were denied the right to travel and to have passports. All of these rights were given to all Libyan Muslims.
The first time I experienced hate and intolerance was in 1954 when I was six years old. I witnessed an arithmetic lesson at the local madrassa school. The teacher turned to the blackboard and said to the little six-year-old Muslim girls, “If you have 10 Jews and you kill five of them, how many Jews do you have left to kill?” I was six years old and completely traumatized. That was a very painful experience for me as a child: my first taste of anti-Jewish hatred.
Our Jewish community was forbidden to the leave the country. We were denied citizenship. We were denied passports. We were denied the right to travel, yet we had to live in this very anti-Jewish environment. In order to cope, we lived in denial and pretended that everything was going to be okay.
On June 6, 1967, the Six Day War broke out between Israel and its five Arab neighbours. I was 19 years old. In Tripoli and Benghazi, mobs took to the streets and shouted, “Edbah el Yehud, Edbah el Yehud”, “slaughter the Jews”. Armed with bottles of gasoline, the mob took to the streets, surrounded Jewish homes and businesses, and burned many of them. Many Jews were killed.
At the time of the riots, I was at work, unable to go home. My British employer hid me in his garage. I was temporarily safe but consumed by fear. While I was in hiding, mobs burned my father’s warehouse and were about to burn my own home when a Muslim neighbour stopped the mob outside, which had already poured gasoline all around the building. This righteous Muslim saved my family's lives. I will be eternally grateful to the honourable and kind Muslim who stood up against evil.
One month after the Six-Day War broke out, I rejoined my family from my hiding place. We were entirely devastated by the relentless rioting, the destruction that befell our ancient and helpless community.
Immediately after I was reunited with my family, the Libyan government ordered the expulsion of all the Jews and the confiscation of all of our property. We were being expelled from the country we had lived in for over 2,000 years. At first, of course, we were delighted to escape from the violence, but then our delight turned into anguish, which grew into fear, anger, and despair. We were being stripped of our property, all of our assets, our homes, and personal belongings. We had no money and no place to go. For days my family and I sat motionless around the kitchen table pondering our future. Where were we going to go? How would we live? We didn't have any money. Which country was going to take us?
A few days later, with one suitcase per person and the equivalent of $25 per person, we boarded a bus to the airport. We were the only passengers. There were seven of us. Halfway to the airport, the driver and the conductor of the bus pulled over to the side of the road, told us there was something wrong with the bus, and one of them left to allegedly get some help.
I followed the conductor to a gas station, where he was using the telephone, and he refused to let me use the phone until I struggled with him physically, and with my hands shaking I was able to call Brian, my guardian angel. I spoke to him in English so that nobody could understand what I was saying. Eventually I said, “Come quickly, we are in mortal danger”, and then I quickly hung up.
When I tried to leave the small office, I found there were three men blocking my way. Again, I struggled with them physically and ran back to the bus. When I arrived at the scene of the bus, I found the driver was standing by a pool of gasoline under the bus. He had siphoned off all the gas from the bus and he was holding a box of matches in his hand. The life of my entire family, seven of us, was locked in that one box of matches.
Eventually, Brian, my British rescuer, and a friend, came to the rescue. They helped us quickly to get in their jeeps and they drove us to the airport, and our lives were spared. I'm standing here today because two brave British Christians saved our lives.
The baggage handlers, when we arrived at the airport, started shouting at us, “Al Yahud Kelabna Arab”, “Jews are the dogs of the Arabs”. They refused to load our bags.
We eventually went to Italy, where we lived penniless and destitute. Seven of us lived in one room, a very small room. Because there was no place to sleep on the floor anymore for the seven of us, my sister and I for two years shared sleeping inside a bathtub. Please don't try it. It's not very comfortable.
We had endured the hardships of discrimination, intolerance, the loss of a 2,000-year community, our culture. We endured human rights abuses only because we were Jewish. The only thing we had left was our dignity. We mourned the loss of our own selves. We felt we had been lost to civilization, lost to the world, lost to history forever.
Despite our oppression, despite our suffering and humiliation, we rose above victimhood. We were victimized, but we never felt as victims. We rose above revenge. We focused on rebuilding our shattered life.
I have personally forgiven the perpetrators who tried to kill my family and me. I believe that hate is a weapon of mass destruction.
My story is not unique. It is the story of nearly one million Jews who were made refugees from nine Arab countries. Six hundred thousand fled to Israel, which became the largest and most successful refugee camp in the Middle East, because it integrated us and gave us dignity and hope. The remaining 300,000 were absorbed in host countries around the world. In all, fully 99% of the Arab world's Jewish inhabitants fled or were expelled from nine Arab countries.
Two years after my expulsion, I came to the United States as a refugee. My Jewish community in San Francisco integrated me. I devoted my life to advocating for human rights all over the world. I never felt like the victim. But you know what is the most painful thing to endure for me? The realization that the United Nations international community inoculated itself with apathy and indifference when it came to our plight. Our losses were ignored by the western world. The expulsion of nearly one million Jews from nine Arab countries had no political consequences.
The fact that these Jewish refugees were forgotten is not just a matter of history. Forgetting nearly one million Jewish refugees from nine Arab countries means that we have a grossly distorted view of the Middle Eastern refugee problem today. It creates political distortions with real relevance to the future of the Middle Eastern peace process. If we want to understand the refugee problem of the Middle East, including the Palestinian refugee problem, and we want to find a fair and just solution, we must take into consideration the plight of nearly one million Jewish refugees. Today, I appeal to you to restore our narrative to its rightful place in history, and to speak forcefully on the discriminatory treatment and the expulsion of the Jews from the Middle East, North Africa, and the Gulf region.
I would like to offer three recommendations to the Standing Committee on Foreign Affairs and International Development.
Recommendation one is that the Standing Committee on Foreign Affairs and International Development forward a resolution for the consideration of the Canadian House of Commons, similar to the United States House Resolution 185, which resolved the following:
That— for any comprehensive Middle East peace agreement to be credible and enduring, the agreement must address and resolve all outstanding issues relating to the legitimate rights of all refugees, including Jews... ...to use the voice, vote, and influence of the United States to ensure that [in Middle Eastern discussion, any explicit] reference to the required resolution of the Palestinian refugee issue...must also include a similarly explicit reference to the resolution of the issue of Jewish refugees from Arab countries.
A full text of House Resolution 185 can be found online.
Recommendation two is that the Standing Committee on Foreign Affairs and International Development issue a public statement that hearings were held on the plight and injustices of Jewish, Christian, and other displaced refugees from the Middle East and North Africa. The committee should indicate that it is examining ways to ensure that all Middle Eastern refugees are recognized and dealt with in a fair and balanced manner.
Recommendation three is that I urge Prime Minister Harper to issue a public statement on the need to recognize the plight and legitimate right of all Middle Eastern refugees, including Jewish, Christian, and other populations. I urge Prime Minister Harper to follow in the footsteps of his predecessor, Prime Minister Paul Martin, who publicly recognized the plight of Jews who were displaced from the Middle East.
In closing, may I say how much all of us former Jewish refugees from North Africa, and my organization, JIMENA, Jews Indigenous to the Middle East and North Africa, appreciate the way in which Canada is pursuing this issue to ensure equity for all, and that rights and redress should be sought for all Middle Eastern refugees.
Thank you.