North African Jewry in The Twentieth Century 2

Michael M.
Laskier
NORTH
AFRICAN
JEWRY IN THE
TWENTIETH
CENTURY
The Jews of Morocco,

Tunisia, and Algeria
North African Jewry in
the Twentieth Century
More Advance Praise for the Book
“There have been useful works on North African Jewry before, but none
so meticulously and imaginatively opens the fascinating vein of con
temporary Zionist activities, and the cloak-and-dagger Israeli relationship,
among the Jews of Maghreb. In one fell swoop, Professor Laskier has
brought the history of the Jews of North Africa up to date, and he has
done so both in the originality of his scholarship and the richness of his
human interest material.”
— Howard M. Sachar
Professor of History and International Affairs
The George Washington University
“An eye-opening and compelling examination of the North African Jewish

communities— of three very distinct communities— during this century.
I am impressed with the free-flowing narration, whose almost casual tone
belies the effort of documenting virtually every assertion in the book.
The data from Dr. Laskier’s personal interviews will become invaluable
as the years pass and those sources are no longer available. And the
author has used that information well and skillfully, to flesh out and
give human dimension to archival document.”
— George K. Zucker
Professor of Spanish
University of Northern Iowa
“An important overview of North African Jewry's final decade before its
dissolution as a result of mass emigrations after World War II. Michael
Laskier’s insightful book will be of great interest to scholars and students
alike.”
— Aron Rodrigue
Stanford University
Author of S ep h ard i an d E astern Jew ries in Transition
The Jews of Morocco, Tunisia,
and Algeria
Michael M. Laskier
n
New York University Press
NEW YORK AND LONDON
NEW YORK UNIVERSITY PRESS
New York and London
Copyright © 1994 by New York University

All rights reserved
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Laskier, Michael M.
North African Jewry in the twentieth century : the Jews of
Morocco, Tunisia, and Algeria / Michael M. Laskier
p. cm.
Includes bibliographical references (p. ) and index.
ISBN 0-8147-5072-9 (acid free)
1. Jews—Africa, North— History—20th century. 2. Africa, North—
Ethnic relations. I. Title.
DS135.A25L36 1993
961'.004924— dc20 93-29377
CIP
New York University Press books are printed on acid-free paper,

and their binding materials are chosen for strength and durability.
Manufactured in the United States of America
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
To my w ife, Anat,
and to my children, Ron an d S heer
Contents
Illustrations ix
Tables xi
Acknowledgments xiii
Introduction 1
Part One Political Developments during the

Years 1900-1948/49
1. North African Jewry in the Twentieth Century:

A Sociopolitical Analysis 23
2. Under Vichy and the Nazi-German Menace: The Jews

of North Africa during the 1930s and 1940s 55
3. Zionism, Clandestine Emigration to Israel, and Its

Impact on Muslim-Jewish Relations: The Case of Morocco,
1947-M arch 1949 84
Part Two Political Developments from the Late

1940s to the Early 1990s
4. Emigration to Israel in the Shadow of Morocco s Struggle

for Independence, 1949-1956 117
vii
viii Contents
5. International Jewish Organizations and t h e cAliya from

Morocco: The Early and Mid-1950s 158
6. The Self-Liquidation Process: Political Developments among

Moroccan Jewry and the Emigration Factor 186
7. The Israeli-Directed Self-Defense Underground and

“Operation Yakhin” 218
8. Tunisia's National Struggle and Tunisian Jewry: Jewish

Anxieties, Muslim-Jewish Coexistence, and Emigration 254
9. From Internal Autonomy to Full Independence: The Post-

Independence, Decolonization Era in Tunisia 287
10. Algeria's Political and Social Struggle: Algerian Jewry's

Dilemmas 310
Conclusions 345
Notes 351
Bibliography 385
Index 391
Illustrations
Chief Rabbi Serero 17
Ouezzan 29
The Sarfatl Synagogue 31
Alfred Valensi 33
Sultan Muhammad V 69
Moroccan Jewish Emigrants in 1947 103
Jewish Schoolchildren and Their Rabbi-Teachers 112
The Grande Arenas Transit Camp 136
Egyptian President Gamal Abdel Nasser 206
The Gulf of Alhucemas 229
The Pisces 230
The Victims in the Service of the Clandestine Zionist Operations 232
Alex Gatmon 236
Alex and Carmit Gatmon 238
Former Activists and Emissaries of the Underground 239
Moroccan Jews during “Operation Yakhin” 244
The AIU’s Ecole Normale Hébraïque 252
IX
x Illustrations
The Victims of the Oslo Tragedy, with a Photo of Yitshak Allai 276
Tragedy in Oslo 277
The City of Constantine 320

Tables
1. Jews Removed from Administrative Duties 62
2. Monthly Rationing of Foodstuffs and Essential Products 65
3. The Jewish Population of French Morocco 67
4. The Population of Tangier, 1940-1941 70
5. Algerian Primary and Secondary Schools, 1941-1943 80
6. Jewish and General Alliance School Population in Moroccan

Cities 89
7. The B led Communities of French Morocco 90
8. Data on Y etida 125
9. Official French Statistics on cAliya from Morocco 126
10. cAliyat ha-No car in Morocco 141
11. Youth cAliya from North Africa 144
12. Financial Assistance from No car ve-he-Haluts 150
13. Ecole Normale Hébraïque, General Education 159
14. Ecole Normale Hébraïque, Jewish Education 160
15. Changes in the Jewish Map of Morocco 241
16. cAliya from Tunisia 266
17. The Jewish Population of Southern Tunisia, 1954 272

xii Tables
18. Youth and G eneralcAliya from Tunisia 278
19. The Jewish Population of Southern Tunisia, 1957 295
20. The Jewish Population of Tunisia, 1964-1967 303
21. cAliya from Tunisia, 1962 and 1964 304
22. Tunisian Jewish School Enrollment, December 1967 308
23. The Jewish Population of Algeria, 1956 311
24. cAliya from Algeria 315
25. The Jewish Population of Algeria, November 1962 and January

1963 340
Acknowledgments
This book was written between 1990 and 1992 in Chicago during my
association with Spertus College of Judaica, as the Louis Susman Profes
sor of Jewish/Middle Eastern History and director of the Susman Com
munal Studies Program. It was revised during the course of 1992 when I
resettled in Los Angeles and became the executive director of the World
Sephardic Educational Center. The bulk of the research for the book was
carried out during the 1980s when I taught at Tel-Aviv University and
served as a research scholar at that university’s Diaspora Research Insti
tute. The Diaspora Research Institute, in conjunction with the Memorial
Foundation for Jewish Culture, provided me with a major grant to re
search and write this book. The Rosalind Cohn Fund of Chicago enabled
me during 1990-92 to complete it.
I would like to express my sincerest gratitude to the many individuals
and institutions who played direct and indirect roles in this project.
Special thanks are owed to: Yoram Miorek and Dr. Michael Heymann of
the Jerusalem-based Central Zionist Archives; Sarah Cadosh of the Jew
ish Joint Distribution Committee archives in Jerusalem, as well as Den
ise B. Gluck and her wonderful staff at the Jewish Joint Distribution
Committee in New York City; the Tabenkin Institute for Zionist Re
search (Israel); the staff at the Hagana Archive and the Israel Lavon
Archive/Lavon Institute (both in Tel-Aviv); the staff at the Israel State
Archives as well as the Central Archives for the History of the Jewish
People (both in Jerusalem); the staff at the Quai d’Orsay (Nantes and
Paris) and the Public Record Office (London); the staff at the Alliance
Israélite Universelle Archives (Paris); Dr. Yo3 el Raba of Tel-Aviv Univer
xiii
xiv Acknowledgments
sity’s Diaspora Research Institute archives; Robert Attal of the Ben-Zvi

Institute in Jerusalem for the use of the extensive Jewish communities’
newspapers and periodicals collections; and the late Zvi Shneir of the
Ghetto Fighters Museum for the use of oral testimonies.
Of considerable assistance in the research and writing stages of the
book were Haim Sa cadon and Dr. Yaron Tsur of Everyman’s University
in Israel; Professor Yo5 av Gelber of Haifa University; Professor Steven
Lowenstein of the University of Judaism (Los Angeles); Professor Haim
Zafrani (University of Paris); Professor Daniel J. Schroeter of the Univer
sity of Florida, Gainesville; Professor Rachel Simon of Princeton Univer
sity; Meir Knafo, a former Zionist underground activist in Morocco; Jules
Braunschvig, former president of the Alliance Israélite Universelle; Naf-
tali Bar-Giora, a former emissary to North Africa on behalf of the Mossad
Le-CAliya Bet and the Jewish Agency; Dr. Yitshak Avrahami of Yad
Tabenkin; Gad Shahar, formerly of the M ossad in Morocco; Sam Avital
(Abotbol), a former Zionist activist in Morocco; the late Marcel Franco of
the Alliance Israélite Universelle; Elias Harms, the delegate of the Alli
ance Israélite Universelle in Morocco; Rabbi Yitçhak Rouche, Avraham
Albert Hazan, Léon Benaroya, Issachar Ben-Ami, and David Sarfatl,
former educators of the Alliance Israélite in Morocco; the late Eugène
Weill, former secretary-general of the Alliance Israélite Universelle, and
the late Zachariah Shuster, formerly of the American Jewish Committee s
European Office in Paris; Dan Kariv, an Israeli emissary who operated
out of Tunisia and Morocco; Carmit Gatmon, the widow of the late Alex
Gatmon, the M o ssa d s man in Morocco; and Gide con Raphael, a former
senior official of Israel s Ministry for Foreign Affairs.
Special interviews were granted by former Israeli emissaries who were
active in Morocco, Tunisia, and Algeria from the 1940s to the 1960s,
among them Yair Douer, Shlomo Havilio of the M ossad, Eliyahu Brakha,
Zvi Har-Zahav, and Sarny Halevy— all three of the Mossad Le-CAliya Bet.
I am equally grateful to professor Robert M. Seltzer of Hunter College
of the City University of New York and to Colin Jones, Niko Pfund, Jason
Renker, Despina Papazoglou Gimbel, and Jennifer Hammer of the New
York University Press for their efforts to publish the book.
Finally, I am thankful to my wife, Anat, and to my children, Ron and
Sheer, for enduring with me patiently through the difficult process of the
research and writing.
Introduction
General Remarks about the Book
Few in-depth historical studies have been written heretofore on North

African (Maghribi) Jewry which, at mid-century, numbered approxi
mately five hundred thousand in Morocco, Tunisia, and Algeria com
bined. The recent excellent studies that survey aspects of North African
and Middle Eastern Jewish heritage include Norman A. Stillmans fol
lowing two books, published by The Jewish Publication Society of Amer
ica: The Je w s o f A rab Lands (1979) and The Jew s o f A rab Lands in
M odern Times (1991). Other important surveys include the voluminous
work edited by Shmuel Ettinger, in Hebrew, entitled The H istory o f the
Jew s in the Muslim C ountries (Jerusalem: Zalman Shazar Center, 1981-
86), which concentrates on the pre-1948 period. Its main contributors
are Yacakov Barnai, Yosef Tubi, Shalom Bar-Asher, and Michel Abitbol.
N orth A frican Jew ry in the Twentieth C entury: The Jew s o f M oroccoy
Tunisia, an d A lgeria is a political history. It is a result of exhaustive
research of archival materials in Israel, Europe, and the United States; of
personal interviews with former community leaders, Maghribi Zionists,
and Jewish outsiders who lived and worked among North Africa’s Jews;
of non-Jewish manuscript materials available in Morocco, Tunisia, and
France; and of my previous writings that were updated through further
research. The book does not cover Libya and Egypt. Egyptian Jewry in
the twentieth century has been treated by this author separately in The
Jew s o f E gypt, 1920-1970: In the Midst o f Zionism, Anti-Semitism an d
the M iddle East C onflict (New York: New York University Press, 1992,
in hardcover and paperback).
1
2 Introduction
The archival materials researched for this book are diverse. First, the
archives of the Alliance Israélite Universelle (Paris) and the Alliance
Israélite Universelle microfilm collection (Jerusalem, Central Archives
for the History of the Jewish People), provide ample data on both the
educational and political functions of that French-Jewish educational
organization on behalf of North African Jewry from its inception in 1860
until the mid-twentieth century.
Second, communal archives and the World Jewish Congress corre
spondence about the social and political welfare issues relevant to the
Jews before and after World War II, including the Jacques Lazarus
collection, also available at the Central Archives for the History of the
Jewish People, present “inside story” information concerning the fears
and instability, hopes and inspirations, of the North African communities
at the time of the Muslim struggle for independence against European
colonialism.
Third, the Public Record Office/Foreign Office archives, London, as
well as the Diaspora Research Institute archives, Tel-Aviv, present vital
perspectives on the political status of Moroccan and Algerian Jewry
before, during, and following World War II.
Fourth, the achives of the Quai d’Orsay (French Ministry for Foreign
Affairs), in Paris and Nantes, contain the bulk of the French Protectorate
archives for Tunisia and Morocco, including data on: French colonial
policies vis-à-vis the local Zionisms and the application of Vichy’s anti-
Jewish laws; large-scale emigration to Europe and caliya (emigration to
Israel); European and indigenous anti-Semitism; Judeo-Muslim relations;
and the Jews in the midst of the struggle between the colonized and the
French colonizers.
Fifth, the archives of the American Jewish Joint Distribution Commit
tee (New York and Jerusalem) contain invaluable materials on every
aspect of North African Jewish cultural, social, economic, educational,
and political life, from the early 1940s and to the present. Created in
1914 by American Jews of German origins, the functions of the Joint
Distribution Committee included the subsidization of Jewish communal
institutions throughout the world, financing Jewish emigration, and pro
viding assistance, food, and clothing for the impoverished— refugees and
nonrefugees alike. From the 1940s this organization maintained offices
and programs in North Africa and Europe. Its funds were largely derived
Introduction 3
from the United Jewish Appeal, the American Jewish Federations, and
the Jewish Claims Conference against Germany.
From 1947-48, the Joint Distribution Committee assisted many orga
nizations operating on North African Jewry's behalf. Among these were
the ORT (Organization for Rehabilitation through Training) vocational
school network, active in the Third World since 1946; the Oeuvre de
Secours aux Enfants (or OSE) which established clinics in Morocco and
Tunisia; the American-sponsored religious schools of Osâr ha-Tora and
Lubavitch; the French Alliance Israélite Universelle schools; and the
Mossad Le-CAliya Bet (Mossad Le-cAliya hereafter), the organization of
the Yishuv (Jewish community of Palestine) and later Israel responsible
for organizing illegal emigration from Europe after 1939. Starting in
1947, the Mossad Le-cAliya engaged in promoting caliya from the Muslim
world.
Sixth, the Hagana Archive, the Israel Labor Archive, both in Tel-Aviv;
the Ghetto Fighters Museum archives; the Central Zionist Archives and
Israel State Archives (Jerusalem)— all provide the best source material
on the Yishuv's involvement within the North African communities and
on Zionist activity.
The purpose of this book is fourfold. It aims to:
1. Provide a political textbook on North Africa's Jewish communities
that, until the early 1960s, contained one of the largest Jewish popula
tions in the world and, today, influence Israeli society and politics as well
as Jewish life in France and Quebec. Israel’s dynamic demographic
growth since the 1950s would not have been realized without the North
African caliya. The new emigrants strengthened Israel by settling in the
northern and southern border regions, and in development towns, often
becoming the victims of Arab-Israeli conflicts and terrorist activity. Their
contribution and struggles resemble the challenge emigrants from the
former Soviet Union encounter in the Israel of the 1990s. In France,
Jewish life was considerably enhanced by North African Jewish emigra
tion— mainly of Algerians— from the mid-1950s to the 1990s. As a result,
French Jewry grew from 235,000 in 1957 (composed of Jews originating
from Alsace/Lorraine and Eastern Europe) to over 500,000 by 1970. Not
only did the newcomers inject new stimulae into French Jewry, but they
helped transform this now heterogeneous community into the second
largest in the Western world.
4 Introduction
2. Present an in-depth analysis of three Third World Jewish commu

nities, their exposure to modernization, and their relations with the
Muslims and the European settlers, playing the role model of minorities
caught between the colonizers and colonized.
3. Accentuate two central themes: political judicial status; and official
political attitudes in French North Africa and Spanish Morocco before,
during, and after the decolonization phase.
4. Document the history of the North African caliya and Zionist activ
ity from the beginning of the twentieth century onward, a task hitherto
not undertaken by any professional historian.
In this study, the twentieth century consists of two main periods:
1900-48/49 and 1949-92. Retrospectively, the 1900-48 period marked a
crucial turning point in Jewish North Africa with the formation of Zionist
clubs and associations across the urban milieu, organizations out of which
there emerged a Zionist leadership elite. Culminating in the birth of
Israel, this period also witnessed political and socioeconomic transforma
tions that laid the foundations for the eventual Jewish exodus from North
Africa. Yet as late as 1947-48, and despite the emergence of radical
nationalism among the Muslims, the struggle for independence had not
yet gained momentum. Though Jewish emigration to Israel, especially
from Morocco, intensified during 1948, important segments of the urban
Jewish populations in Tunisia and Algeria still entertained hopes that
France would not relinquish control of her colonial possessions and
would neutralize Muslim nationalist ferment.
The period 1949-92 dampened hopes that large Jewish communities
would survive in the region. Political instability during the 1950s as the
nationalist struggle for independence gained support; the decline of co
lonialism from the late 1940s onward leading Jews to ponder the pros
pects of living among the Muslims sans F ran ce; the birth of Israel and
North African Muslim solidarity with the Middle Eastern Arab states,
placing the Jews in a delicate balance; and the emergence of independent
North Africa between 1956 and 1962— all contributed to the desire to
emigrate. Although emigration was not automatic, the post-1948 period
witnessed a transition to a process of communal self-liquidation. For
those who made caliy a— legally, semilegally, or illegally— the task of
organizing it was entrusted to Israeli bodies such as the Mossad Le-CAliya
Bet, M ossad (Israel's secret service apparatus), and the Immigration
Department of the Jewish Agency. New light is shed especially on the
Introduction 5
role of the M ossad inside the Jewish communities of Morocco and Al
geria.
Historical Background on North Africa:

The Non-Jewish Milieu
The recorded history of North Africa begins with the founding of Car
thage in 813 b . c . e . For 667 years until its fall to the Romans in 146
B .C .E ., Carthage came under the influence of the Jews and Pheonicians
of Palestine.1 The Romans were succeeded by the Vandals, the Vandals
by the Byzantines, and the Byzantines by the Arabs in a . d . 642.
The oldest population group in North Africa, predating the arrival of
the Jews and Pheonicians, was the Berbers— a Mediterranean people,
pagans whose exact origins are yet to be investigated. Embracing Islam
following the Arab conquest of 642, and undergoing linguistic and cul
tural Arabization, they remain a major demographic component to the
present. Several Islamic dynasties, Arab and Berber, controlled North
Africa between the seventh and the sixteenth centuries. After the 1550s,
however, present-day Algeria and Tunisia came under the influence of
Ottoman/Turkish domination, while Morocco was controlled by the Shar-
ifian dynasty, still in power during the early 1990s. When Algeria was
conquered by the French (1830), Arabic had long since replaced or
supplemented the Berber dialects as the common language for most of
the inhabitants. In Algeria, as in Morocco, the French colonists at
tempted, ultimately in vain, to set Berber against Arab, favoring the
former.
The Arabs of modem and contemporary North Africa are descendants
of the early Arab invaders of the seventh to the eleventh centuries. Like
the Islamized Berbers they are Sunnis. O f the Berber tribes in Algeria,
the Kabyles of the Kabyle mountains of northern Algeria form the largest
group. They were the least exposed to France. Because of the isolated
and relatively barren area in which they live, they had made the least
contact with the European settlers (colons and pieds noirs) and had
experienced the minimum of the French administration. On the other
hand, in the twentieth century they form the largest group of migrants to
France— migration in search of work. Other important Algerian Berber
groups include the Chaouias of the Aures mountains in northern Algeria,
6 Introduction
and the Mzabites who live in enclosed bastion cities in the Sahara desert.
The majority of the country’s Muslims are the Arabs; as many as 30
percent are Berbers.
After the French conquest of Algeria from the Turks, real wealth and
power lay in the hands of the European settlers, especially from 1871
when they were able to supplant French metropolitan and military influ
ence to much of the administration in the country. The colon s, both the
powerful and rich, and the “small” and poor (the urbanite pieds noirs)
formed, in effect, a superior class which was “more French than the
French” (although the settlers were sometimes of Spanish or Italian
rather than French origin). This class condemned the natives (indigènes)
and feared that any concession to them could only lead to the eventual
disruption of a structure of which they, the colon s, intended to remain in
control.2
The French carried on a policy, initiated by their Turkish predeces
sors, of making Algeria the base of their rule in North Africa and of
increasing their territory by bringing under Algerian control areas that
had hitherto looked rather to the older-established regimes of Tunisia
and Morocco. A large-scale confiscation of cultivable land following the
crushing of Muslim resistance made French colonization possible. By
1880, the coastal areas had become predominantly Christian areas of
mixed European origin: Spanish in and around Oran; French, Italian,
and Maltese in the center and the east. Each weakening, even tempo
rary, of the French governmental authority led to the increased influence
of the settlers and to a renewed rising and suppression of the Muslims.
On the overthrow of Louis Philippe s regime in 1848, the settlers in
Algeria succeeded in having the territory declared French and the three
former Turkish provinces of Algiers, Oran, and Constantine converted
into départem en ts (French regional administrative units), while coloniza
tion was developed with renewed vigor. Between the 1870s and the
1920s, the Europeans felt free to establish political, economic, and social
domination over Algeria.3
For a long time, the French believed that the Algerian Muslims did
not want independence but rather to merge themselves with France. In
thinking thus, the French were fixing their gaze on the tiny minority
who received a French education and saw the salvation of the mass of
their compatriots in the extension to them of a similar assimilation. But
Introduction 7
the French ignored two other groups. Algerian workers and students
mainly in France, under the leadership of Ahmad Messali Hadj, had
formed the Algerian nationalist movement that, from 1936, took the title
of the Parti du Peuple Algérien. In Algeria itself there came into being
another movement, led by a man of religious leaning, Shaykh Abd al-
Hamld ben Badis; this was the Association of Algerian ‘ Ulama3 (learned
scholars of Islam). Following the political eclipse of Messali’s movement,
his party was superseded by the Comité Révolutionnaire pour l’Unité et
TAction (CRUA), later formed into the Front for National Liberation
(FLN), which called for a break with France.4
At the time of the French invasion of Algeria, Tunisia was a province
of the Ottoman Empire but, in effect, autonomous under the Husaynid
dynasty. This dynasty, consisting of Mamlük (Caucasian or Oriental slaves
in Muslim countries) and Turkish officials known as beys, controlled
Tunisia beginning in 1705, pledging allegiance to the Ottoman Sultan.
The Husaynids became an integral part of the Tunisian milieu through
intermarriage and acculturation. Of the various beys between 1705 and
1957 (the latter year marking the end of the dynasty and the creation of
the Tunisian Republic), Ahmad Bey who reigned in 1837-55 was an
avowed Westemizer. Unlike the ruthless Turkish deys of precolonial
Algeria or the conservative Sharifian sultans of Morocco, Ahmad Bey
brought Western advisers, mainly French, to help create a modem army
and navy and related industries. Conscription was introduced to the great
dismay of the peasantry. More acceptable were Ahmad’s steps to better
integrate Arabic-speaking native Tunisians into the government which
had long been dominated by Mamlüks and Turks.
Influenced by the French Revolution, Ahmad abolished slavery and
took steps intended to bring Tunisia more in line with Europe, but he
also exposed his country to Europe’s infinitely greater economic and
political power. Tunisia was bankrupt in 1869, and an international finan
cial commission— with British, French, and Italian representation— was
imposed on the country. One last important attempt to strengthen Tuni
sia internally and thus prevent European domination was made during
the reformist ministry of Khayr al-Dln (1873-77), one of the most impres
sive statesmen of the nineteenth-century Muslim world. All that was
needed for France to establish control over Tunisia was the acquiescence
of France’s principal rival, Britain, and this was obtained in 1881 when
8 Introduction
the French, on the pretext that some Tunisian tribesmen had moved into
Algerian territory, landed troops in Tunisia and established a Protecto
rate over the country.5
The Convention of Marsa (1881) did not call for outright conquest as
was the case in Algeria. The bey remained in theory an absolute mon
arch, two ministers were still appointed, and the framework of the old
government machinery was preserved. There was no confiscation of land;
mosques were not converted into churches; and Arabic remained an
official language. Nevertheless, the supreme authority passed in fact into
the hands of the French resident-general and his functionaries.
Although, in retrospect, none of the North African countries had the
structural capacities to withstand foreign domination, nineteenth-century
Tunisia offered somewhat more favorable prospects for self-sustained
reformation than did its neighbors. With about one and a half million
inhabitants in 1881 (over three million in 1956), in contrast to Morocco’s
four million in 1912 (11,626,000 in 1960), and Algeria’s three million in
1830 (9,500,000 in 1962)— Tunisia was the weakest, most “colonizable,”
and the least pluralistic of the three countries. Why? Tunisia enjoyed one
asset which distinguished it sharply from the rest of the Maghrib. Half of
its population was sedentary, clustered in the ancient cities, towns, and
villages of the sah il, the Tunisian littoral— a population easily exploited
like the peasantry of the Egyptian Nile and hence a stable support for
any government. With the exception of the Krumir tribesmen of the
northwest and a few Saharan tribes, tribal dissidence in Tunisia was not
as intense as in Algeria and Morocco. The Tunisian bey did not need to
organize military expeditions to collect taxes as did the Moroccan author
ities. The people of Tunisia were linguistically homogeneous, Arabic
speaking with the exception of a multilingual Turkish ruling class, the
Jews, and, since the 1870s, a European settler community. The Berbers
of Tunisia constituted less than 2 percent of the population.6
In line with the homogeneity of the Muslim population, a dynamic
nationalist movement emerged in the 1930s under the banner of the
Neo-Destour party.
Similar to Algeria, the Muslim population of Morocco was composed
of Arabs and Islamized Berbers, though the distinction between the two
groups today is more linguistic than racial. Albeit greatly influenced by
Arabic, the Berber language has been preserved in the mountainous
regions. Berber-speaking inhabitants are divided into three ethnolinguis-
Introduction 9
tic groups: the Rifflans of the Rif mountains in northern Morocco; the
Imazighen, Tamazight-speakers of the Middle Atlas mountains; and the
Shluh of the High and Ante Atlas. Arabic-Berber bilingualism among the
Berbers has become common, and the proportion of monolingual Ber
bers does not exceed 25 percent. European colonization brought a French
and Spanish minority, after 1912, whose numbers had reached some
400,000-500,000 in 1956. The French and Spanish languages, which
spread among the urban populations during the Protectorate, are still
spoken today.7
From the sixteenth century until the present, Morocco had been
governed by the hereditary Sharifian dynasty. The dynasty’s govern
ment, known as the m akh zan , was devoted to the extraction of taxes in
specie and in kind, especially in remote regions where central authority
was weak— areas referred to as b le d al-siba as distinct from b led al-
m akhzan under complete government control. The principal justification
of the sultan for collecting taxes was his role as “defender of the faith.” In
order to carry out his duty effectively he needed the wherewithal to
equip and maintain an army for excursions into the b le d — a term used
by the French to describe the countryside and mountainous regions,
applied in this book merely for conciseness— campaigns known as harkas
and m ahgllas. Seldom, however, was his right to collect taxes accepted
without a contest. Alliances of Arabo-Berber tribes, Shurafa3 (plural for
Sharif or descendants of the Prophet), and Muràbitïn (tribal mediators)
would often form in varying combinations to deny the sultan his reve
nues, or, occasionally, to put forth a contender for his title of Amir al-
Mtfminln (Commander of the Faithful).8
The division, in 1912, of Morocco into a large French and a small
Spanish Protectorate followed the Franco-Moroccan Treaty of Fez (30
March 1912), and the Franco-Spanish agreement of November 1912. It
prompted the two European powers to embark on a military pacification
campaign between 1912 and 1934 to ensure the stability of the m akhzan ,
which survived alongside the colonial apparatus, and to consolidate the
economic and strategic status of their newly acquired influence. The
campaign was successful, particularly under the command of the French
resident-general Field-Marshal Lyautey. It led to the demise of the b led
al-sïba. Areas formerly in the siba were now subordinate to both the
traditional qa* ids (rural/tribal governors) and a French military adminis
tration (Bureaux des Affaires Indigènes). In the urban milieu the author-
10 Introduction
ity of the m akhzan s pashas (governors) was supplemented, at times

superseded, by the top-level French officials: the contrôleurs civils and
ch efs du cercle.9
Unlike the violent takeover of Algeria, in establishing their Protecto
rate in Morocco the French had already gained the expertise of forming
the Tunisian Protectorate. Moreover, Lyautey as the first Résident-Gén
éral between 1912 and 1925, was a soldier of aristocratic outlook and
possessed a deep aesthetic appreciation of the artistic qualities of Moroc
can civilization. The character he gave the administration exerted an
influence throughout the French Protectorate until independence in
1956. Lyautey carried farther in Morocco the concept which had been
applied in Tunisia, that autonomous institutions were to be preserved
while, simultaneously, the superimposition of a parallel European ad
ministration had to be designed to serve the interests of the European
settlers. Early in the Protectorate years he recommended:
Use the ancient ruling cadres instead of dissolving them. Govern with the
mandarin, not against him. We must proceed from this: being always destined to
be a tiny minority, we cannot pretend to substitute ourselves for them, but at
the most to direct and to control. Thus, we must not offend a tradition or change
a single custom; we must say to ourselves that there is in each society a ruling
class, born to rule, without which nothing can be done, and and there is a class
to be governed. We must use the ruling class in our interests.10
It was still the resident-general, however, who was empowered to sign

in the name of the Sharifian government all royal decrees (zahxrs).
Henceforth Lyautey and his successors were able to influence, even
dictate, the contents of the decrees, which was definitely the case during
the Vichy period. Further, the resident-general was granted full police
and military power for the restoration of public order and for Morocco’s
air and land defenses.
Whereas the Atlas mountains and central Morocco, including the
major cities and regions— Casablanca, Marrakesh, Oudjda, Fez, Meknès,
Rabat, Salé, Sefrou, Mazagan, Essaouira (Mogador), and Agadir— were
under the French Protectorate, northern Morocco with the exception of
Tangier became Spain’s sphere of influence. This included, among oth
ers, the cities of Tétuan, Larache, Elksar, Nador, Arcila, and the Rif
mountains. Spain appointed a khalifa, or viceroy, chosen from the Mo
roccan royal family, as nominal head of state and provided him with a
Introduction 11
puppet Moroccan government. This enabled the Spaniards to conduct

affairs independently of the powerful French Zone, while nominally
preserving Moroccan unity. As in French Morocco, European-staffed
departments or regions were created, administered by interventores,
corresponding to the French con trôleu rs civils.
Though it had a large Spanish-speaking population Tangier did not
become part of the Spanish Protectorate. The city and its surrounding
region had been successively occupied by the Pheonicians, Romans,
Visigoths, Arabs, Portuguese, and British. The strategic situation of this
seaport had played a part in its relations with the European powers. In
1787 the United States established there its first consulate in Morocco,
and by the Anglo-Moroccan agreement of 1856, the city of Tangier
received the status of “diplomatic capital of Morocco.” In December
1923 the representatives of France, Spain, and Britain prepared a special
status for Tangier. While remaining part of the Sharifian Empire, it
became the capital of an international zone of some 450 kilometers. It
was governed by a legislative assembly and the sultan’s representative,
the m an dü b, was actually appointed by the French. In June 1940 Spain
took advantage of the collapse of France to occupy Tangier, but withdrew
in 1945 after the Allied victory.
The challenge to colonialism in Morocco emerged gradually after
1930. Young intellectuals from Fez and Rabat commenced their protest,
organizing first the Bloc d’Action Nationale, then the Parti National and,
finally, in 1944, Istiqlâl, or the Party of Independence.
Jewish Society
The number of Jews who left Palestine with the Pheonicians after 586
B .C .E ., when the destruction of the Temple occurred, is difficult to
ascertain. It is known, however, that the Jewish population in the Magh
rib— alongside the Berbers— was numerically strengthened in a . d . 70,
the date of the second destruction of the Temple. They were reinforced
in 1492 by the m egôrâshïm (the ones expelled) from Spain and Portugal.
The penetration and consolidation of Islam in North Africa brought
about a comprehensive overhauling of the societal structure. As in all
territories which came under Islamic jurisdiction, the Jews were classi
fied as a “protected people” or dhimmis. The term dhim m i, applied in
12 Introduction
the Sacred Law of the Shari ca and and in the Quran, designates the
Christian and Jewish subjects of any Muslim ruler. Like most of the
Sacred Law, the principles upon which the non-Muslims are to be dealt
with by Muslim rulers evolved in the early centuries of Islam. The
Prophet Muhammad and the first Caliphs were acquainted with five
religions: the Jews, the Christians, the Sabaians, the Zoroastrians, and
the polytheistic cults of Arabia; but the Jews and Christians had a special
place in the Prophet’s concept of the world. Unlike the polytheists, they
at least had books of their own to excuse them for not receiving him and
were thus the “People of the Scripture.” Therefore, it was established
that whereas on the conquest of new territory by Muslims, such as North
Africa, polytheists and pagans (i.e., Berbers) must accept Islam or die,
the “People of the Scripture” would be permitted to practice their reli
gion.11
What did this mean? It outlined the basic tenets under which Jews
and Christians would become tolerated infidels. By the term of his
contract with the dhim m isy the Muslim ruler was supposed to guarantee
their lives, liberty, and property, and was responsible for their freedom
of religious practice. The Shari ca laid down the conditions by which the
Muslim ruler would be willing to protect these minorities. In contrast to
the Muslims the dhim m is undertook to pay the special poll tax known as
jizy a and the land tax called kharâj. Generally speaking, in comparison
with the Muslims, the dhim m is were at a disadvantage legally and judi
cially. For instance, their evidence was not accepted against that of a
Muslim in an Islamic court. The Muslim who killed a dhim m i did not
suffer the death penalty and a dhim m i could not marry a Muslim woman,
whereas a Muslim could marry a dhim m i woman. Though in Tunisia and
Algeria the jiz y a lk h a râ j practice was eliminated during the nineteenth
century, Moroccan Jewry still paid these taxes as late as the first decade
of the twentieth century.
The Jewish communal organizational apparatus underwent profound
changes in the period following Muslim rule in North Africa. The Jews
were granted administrative autonomy over institutions, including the
rabbinic tribunals that deliberated over crucial judicial matters, with the
exception of cases involving legal disputes between Jews and Muslims,
in which case the Shari ca courts took charge. In North Africa most
communities had rabbis who served as spiritual guides and presided over
Introduction 13
the synagogues and rabbinic courts. In some cases the rabbinate was
hereditary. The prominent lay notables, whose power was partly deter
mined by the degree of their wealth, were assembled in councils com
posed of seven to fifteen members elected by the communities.
Delving into the communal structure in the colonial era, it is essential
to examine each country. Since the mid-1840s every major Algerian
community was directed by a consistory (consistoire), as was the case
with the Jewish communities of metropolitan France after 1808. The new
system helped the poor, organized public worship, set up synagogues,
named the rabbis, provided religious instruction, and administered the
Jewish cemeteries. Unlike the preconsistorial period, the communal
leadership now encouraged Jewish youths to enter the productive trades
and accept aspects of European life-styles. In order to make their work
more effective, the consistories of Algeria organized themselves, in April
1947, into a Fédération des Communautés Israélites d'Algérie (FCIA).
Benyamin Heler was elected president, Armand Atali secretary-general,
Joseph Charbit treasurer, and Paul Barkatz, Gaston Saffar, and Joseph
Bensadoun vice-presidents. The board was chosen from the elected rep
resentatives of the consistories of the three départem ents: Algiers, Oran,
and Constantine. One of the principal decisions of the FCIA was to urge
the extension of the work of the American Jewish Joint Distribution
Committee into Algeria, so as to strengthen the feeble life of the com
munities; to fight against the indifference of the Algerian Jewish middle
socioeconomic stratum to the Jewish question; and to remedy the ab
sence of a network of social agencies, and thus resist the trend toward
assimilation noticeable in the growing number of mixed marriages. Only
in 1957, however, did the American Joint extend its services to Algeria.
Since Algeria was part of France, and the consistories subordinate to
their counterparts in the m étropole, the communities were represented
in the Consistoire Central des Israélites de France, headquartered in
Paris.12
In Tunisia communal leadership frictions were age-old. Although a
federation of Jewish communities had existed since 1948 under the pres
idency of Charles Sacada, president of the community of Sfax, a second,
rival federation was created in May 1953 under the sponsorship of Charles
Haddad, president of the Tunis community. The country's Jewish com
munities were then split into two hostile camps: eighteen communities
14 Introduction
remained with the federation headed by Sacada, eight communities joined

the newly formed federation, and the affiliation of four others remained
in dispute.
The Sfax federation had not been able to obtain legal recognition,
because the largest community, Tunis, refused— until forming the sepa
rate federation— to become a member. Confronted by personality and
political conflicts among Jewish leaders, the French took the position
that they could not favor one against the other, thereby retaining a
neutral status vis-à-vis demands made upon them for financial aid. When
the two federations did merge on 4 August 1955, Isaac Hayat, leader of
the community of Sousse, was chosen as first president. On 22 April
1956, in an already independent Tunisia, Charles Haddad of Tunis suc
ceeded Hayat as president.13
The Jewish communities of Tunisia were financed with tax monies
collected by the government from kosher meat and Jewish sacramental
wine. In 1955, for the first time, the French Protectorate agreed to the
repeated requests of the Jewish communities for the inclusion of their
welfare and religious needs in the annual budget along with those of the
Muslims. The sum of 250 million francs ($71,400 in 1955) was provided
in that budget for Muslims and Jews. The communities also received
funds from contributions made in the synagogues, from religious rites in
the cemeteries, and from special appeals made during Passover and the
High Holy Days.14
The status of the Moroccan Jewish community councils under the
Protectorate system was first established in May 1918, and later given
various welfare, taxation, and representation functions and powers in the
edicts of January 1931 and 7 May 1945. As was the case with Tunisian
Jewry, the Moroccan Jews were denied modern consistories. While not
fragmented like the Tunisian councils and federations, the Conseil des
Communautés Israélites du Maroc (CCIM), created in 1947 to form an
umbrella over most of the Jewish communities around the country,
received little government support. As elsewhere in North Africa, this
organizational structure supported itself by levying taxes on the sale of
wine and meat, and by contributions from the better-off members of the
communities. Also similar to Algeria and Tunisia, community council
members were elected by the people or, more precisely, by those who
paid the fees to maintain Jewish services. Rabbis continued to wield
Introduction 15
strong influence on the Moroccan communities. For instance, the edict

of 7 May 1945 declared that they be included in the councils.15
Concerning the composition of the socioethnic hierarchies of the North
African Jewish communities in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries,
highly complex and stratified phenomena emerge.
1. Jew s W hose M other Tongue Is Spanish an d /or Judeo-S pan ish. Those
were the Sephardim, descendants of the m egôrâshlm who retained their
Spanish language and culture and transmitted to their children the cul
ture of medieval Spain. In Algeria they mainly settled in the region of
Oran, segments of which migrated there from northern Morocco. In
Morocco, where the Sephardim emerged as a larger group than in Al
geria, they lived mostly in the north (Tangier, Tetuan, Larache, Elksar,
Arcila); their presence was also quite visible in the coastal seaports of
Casablanca, Essaouira, Mazagan, and Safi. The Sephardim were the most
receptive to European ideas and their manners and customs differed
from those of the rest of the Jewish population. They practiced monog
amy, their segment of the populace presented the prime candidates for
banking and trade, and their family names included Nahon, Pinto, El-
maleh, Pariente, Benchimol, Laredo, and Toledano. When speaking
Judeo-Spanish instead of the purer Spanish, the language included a
variety of Hebrew words and biblical verses.16 In Tunisia the Sephardim
who arrived after 1492 were a relatively small force which integrated into
the older Jewish community, known as the Touansa. On the other hand,
an emigration wave of Jewish Sephardi/Portuguese elements to Tunisia
after the latter half of the seventeenth century from Livorno, known as
the Grana (“The People of Leghorn”) caused communal friction between
the indigenous Touansa and the quasi-European, Italian-speaking Grana
Livornese, especially in the city of Tunis. Unity and coexistence among
them did not develop until the twentieth century. For generations these
two Jewish sectors had been represented by two separate communities
in Tunis.17
2. The Ju d eo-A rab G roup. This segment, the most important and largest
Maghribi Jewish population, was divided into two categories. First, the
descendants of the Jews who settled in North Africa after 586 b . c . e . and
A.D. 70. Thus, in Tunisia, for example, this group constituted the bulk of
16 Introduction
the Touansa. They spoke Judeo-Arabic and the local Arabic spoken by
the Muslims. Judeo-Arabic among them was as widespread as Judeo-
Spanish and European languages among the Sephardim. The homily at
their synagogues, both oral and written, was in that language. It was
studded with sayings and passages from sacred writings, which were
translated into Arabic and allowed to be briefly rendered in Aramaic by
the homilists. These usages led to the emergence of a special language, a
mélange of Arabic, Hebrew, and Aramaic. When writing Arabic, the
Jews used Hebrew script.18 In Tunisia this element could be found from
the southern communities of Jerba (the ghettos of Hara Saghlra and Hara
Kabïra) and Gabes to the northern cities of Tunis, Sfax, and Sousse. They
often lived in Jewish districts known as k a ra t al-Yahüd. In Algeria they
were concentrated in the coastal cities of Bone, Algiers, and Oran, and
in Constantine. In the départem en t of Algiers they lived in Orléanville,
Djelfa, Laghouat, Cherchell, and Medea; in the Oranais they populated
Mostaganem, Sidi-Bel-Abbès, Tlemcen, Colomb Bechar, Geryville, La-
moncière, and Montagnac; in the Constantinois they lived in Batna,
Sétif, Philipville, Bordj-Bou-Arreridj, El-Oued, Biskra, M’Sila, and
Touggourt. In the Sahara, they settled within the M czab region, the
Mzabite Berber stronghold. As for Morocco, this Judeo-Arab segment
populated the coastal cities of Mazagan, Casablanca, Essaouira (Moga-
dor), as well as the inland communities of the b le d , Fez, Meknès, Mar
rakesh, Oudjda, and Midelt— among other places. It is noteworthy that
the Judeo-Arabs in the urban areas were to a large degree migrants from
the bled. Many Jews throughout Morocco lived in special ghettos and
districts known as m ellâhs.
The second category was made up of the Sephardim of Morocco who
did not settle in the northern part of the country or who had migrated
from there to the inland as well as to the cities of Morocco's Atlantic
coast. They mingled with the Judeo-Arabs and, over time, had forgotten
their Spanish language, assimilating the Judeo-Arabic vernacular. They
did retain such Sephardi family names as Toledano, Serero, Monsonego,
Sarfatl, and Berdugo.
Tabulated data on the various urban and rural Maghribi Jewish popu
lations are presented throughout the book.
As for the social stratification among the Jews, already in precolonial
times the small u p p er and m iddle strata included bankers, businessmen,
urban real estate investors, and large-scale merchants. Consisting largely
Introduction 17
Chief Rabbi Serero of the Ville Nouvelle at Fez in the Serero Synagogue (author s
personal collection).
18 Introduction
of the Sephardi/Livornese groups, albeit by no means exclusively, the

Jewish merchants engaged in busy trade activity in the Mediterranean
and Atlantic Maghribi seaports. One category of merchants served the
authorities. In Morocco they were known as the tujjâr al-sulfân (“The
Sultan’s Merchants”), engaging in trade with Europe, with the Sultan’s
blessings and financial backing. They and the Muslim tujjâr al-sultân
controlled all the major imports— sugar, coffee, tea, metals, gunpowder,
and tobacco— and such vital exports as wheat, hides, cereals, and wool,
items which became government monopolies. Essaouira, Morocco’s most
important Atlantic seaport until the 1890s, developed owing to their
initiatives. Very affluent, the tujjâr were sometimes envied and disliked
by the Jewish masses and by wide segments of the Muslims. With the
passage of time and the granting of commercial treaties by the m akhzan
to Europeans, the tujjâr privileges were declining. In Tunisia affluent
Livornese Grana emerged as the equivalent of the tujjâr during the reign
of the Husaynid beys. In Algeria, members of the Bacri, Bushnach, and
Duran families fulfilled similar functions in the pre-1830 period on behalf
of the Turkish deys.
Another category of merchants were businessmen not affiliated with
the ruling elite. In Morocco, for instance, this group expanded during
the latter half of the nineteenth century due to precolonial European
economic, cultural, and political penetration. It also developed at the
expense of the tu jjâr decline. The group was composed of both owners of
trade firms and distinguished representatives of European business firms
in Europe whose branches extended to the Sharifian ports. As talented
commercial intermediaries between Europe and Morocco they were
granted consular protection through the intercession of the European
consuls or the owners of the trade firms. This privilege enabled a small
elite of Jews to escape the m akhzan s political jurisdiction. Referred to as
p rotég ésy and based on special agreements between the m akhzan and
several European powers (not always to the sultan’s advantage), these
elements were exempt from the payment of the jiz y a , were not tried in
Islamic courts over criminal matters, and were exempt from military
duty. Hence the protégés enjoyed the benefits of aliens residing in
Morocco, while at the same time, they did not possess foreign national
ity.19 A few even served as vice-consuls and interpreters for the Euro
pean consular network before the consulates expanded and recruited
career diplomatic servants. With the inauguration of the Protectorate
Introduction 19
era, the consular protection for the few was lifted, with the unique
exception of Tangier.
The low er-m iddle stratum was made up of artisans, grocers, peddlers,
and other small-scale merchants located in the inland and coastal regions,
as well as goldsmiths and fruit and vegetable merchants. Many of the
artisans acquired their profession on a hereditary basis. This stratum
included a segment of the Moroccan b le d stratum which applied to the
Maghrib as a whole. In parts of Morocco's b led Jews actually engaged in
agricultural pursuits. The lower-middle stratum formed the dominant
socioeconomic group of employed Jews in North Africa. Owing to the
efforts of the Alliance Israélite Universelle, or AI U, from the late 1920s
onward and of the ORT vocational schools after 1946, this category of
Jews underwent professional modernization— with many entering trades
such as mechanics, electronics, and television/radio repair.
The p o o r an d unem ployed strata were sizable in the precolonial and
colonial periods. These included settled populations and migrants from
the b led to the urban centers, living off communal charity.
Chapter 1 investigates deeper Maghribi Jewish society during the
colonial period, highlighting sociopolitical modernization and other de
velopments.
Part One
Political Developments during

the Years 1900-1948/49
Chapter 1
North African Jewry in the Twentieth

Century: A Sociopolitical Analysis
In order to understand the sociopolitical factors and concerns of twen

tieth-century North African Jewry, several components are explored, the
most important being: the political status of the Jews in the new colonial
setting; the politics of education with emphasis on Morocco; the penetra
tion of Zionism; and the conflict between local Zionists and their oppo
nents.
Political Status under the Colonial System
Colonial policies affecting Jews, particularly French policies, differed

from one country to another. This was mainly true regarding the French
citizenship question. On 24 October 1870, by virtue of the Crémieux
Decree, the French government granted French citizenship status to
Algerian Jewry, collectively, irrespective of the Jews’ level of French
assimilation, and in spite of the fact that most of them had never before
rendered vital services to France. Henceforth they were subjected to the
French courts. Only the Jews of the Saharan regions did not benefit from
this status, since the territories where they lived did not come under
French control until 1882. Protected there by a French military admin
istration, the citizenship matter was not pursued.
In Tunisia the Jewish population fell into three categories: Tunisian,
French, and foreign. Until 1956, three-quarters of the Jews belonged to
the first category; most of the remainder were French. Tunisian natioh-
23
24 North African Jewry in the Twentieth Century
ality had been defined in the basic treaty of 10 September 1857, and in
the Tunisian constitution of 26 April 1861. The treaty provided in Article
4 that Tunisian subjects of the Beylicate (the Husaynid dynasty) be
permitted to practice their religious rites, and in Article 8 that no distinc
tion be made between Tunisian Muslims and Tunisian Jews. The consti
tution also provided for permanent allegiance to the Regency. It stated
that all Tunisians who left the country, for whatever reason, whether or
not they had been naturalized in another country, would become Tu
nisian subjects whenever they returned to Tunisia. All Jews born in
Tunisia and unable to establish a foreign nationality were considered
Tunisian under the law. The only exception to the principle of permanent
allegiance was the provision that a Tunisian could become a citizen of
France upon individual application.1 It was in 1923, under the French
Protectorate, that the Morinaud Law enabled Jews to get French citizen
ship on an individual basis only.
Moroccan Jews, the overwhelming majority of whom remained dhim
m is, were worse off politically than either their Algerian or Tunisian
counterparts. Their status warrants a more in-depth analysis.
Already in 1880, at the Madrid Conference, convened by Morocco
and the European powers to deliberate over Europe's dangerous viola
tions of Moroccan sovereignty, issues of consular protection and foreign
nationality were raised. Regarding the latter, a rather complicated policy
was formulated: “Every Moroccan naturalized abroad who shall return to
Morocco must, after a period of residence equal in time to that which
was legal to obtain naturalization, choose between his complete sub
mission to the laws of the [Sharifian] Empire and the obligation to
leave Morocco.” Nevertheless, a qualification was attached to this: “un
less it was proved that the foreign naturalization was obtained with
the consent of the Sultan. ”2 The sultan, however, was not about to con
sent.
During the Protectorate period when segments of the Jews sought
French citizenship, they encountered stiff opposition from the French
Residency. Albert Saguès, the Alliance Israélite Universelle school prin
cipal from Casablanca, had met with Field-Marshal Lyautey, the resi
dent-general, to discuss this matter. Lyautey asserted bluntly that he
opposed the Crémieux Decree granting Algerian Jewry French citizen
ship in large numbers; at the same time, however, he did not rule out
the possibility of a careful selection process, whereby the new French
North African Jewry in the Twentieth Century 25
Protectorate would screen individual candidates for French citizenship

once they proved to be thoroughly assimilated to French culture.3
The teachers of the Alliance Israélite Universelle— many of whom
were Sephardim from the Balkans and the Ottoman Em pire— and edu
cated Moroccan Jews, did not relent on the issue. They met with French
officials to emphasize the need for either a slow process of French
naturalization of Moroccan Jewry whereby within twenty to thirty years
all Jews in French Morocco (excluding the Spanish Protectorate) would
become French citizens; or a large-scale rapid process of naturalization
commencing immediately. These Jewish elements pleaded this case in
Jewish journals in France, among them Paix et D roit, the A rchives
Israélites, and V Univers Israélite. They also spoke in front of French and
European audiences as well as intellectual circles throughout Morocco to
stress the importance of the services that would be rendered to the
French Protectorate by French-educated Jewish allies. Therefore, to
reward them for their services, the Protectorate had to consider granting
French citizenship to as many educated French-speaking Jews as pos
sible.
The pro-naturalization campaign was particularly pronounced during
the mid- and late 1920s, though it continued until the outbreak of World
War II. Faint hopes were entertained that the Spanish Protectorate
would offer Spanish citizenship to the Jews in their zone, and hence only
scattered efforts were mounted on the part of the Jews there to seek this
privilege. In the International Zone of Tangier many Jews were subjects
of foreign countries and therefore the issue of foreign naturalization was
less pressing. However, Tangier’s Jewish community was but a small
segment of Moroccan Jewry.
What were the naturalization proponents implying? Were they prod
ding the French to convince the then Sultan Muhammad V (who reigned
from 1927 until 1961) that he consent to the naturalization of segments of
his Jewish population, thus freeing them completely from the m akhzan s
jurisdiction? They must have been aware of the Madrid Convention’s
concession to Sultan Mawlây al-Hasan in 1880, that any naturalization
procedure required the consent of the sultanate, for Muslims and Jews
had to maintain perpetual allegiance to him. It is certain that Muhammad
V, who emerged in the 1930s and 1940s as a nationalist symbol and an
advocate of Arab-Berber-Jewish solidarity, would have never gone along
with such a scheme.
There was, in effect, partial support among the French Protectorate’s

European population for at least limited naturalization of the most edu
cated Jews. For example, Victor de Stahl, an influential figure in Protec
torate political circles, observed in 1927 about the Jews:
Here is a race which was hermetically sealed in the melldhs without daring to
leave its gates, a race persecuted by the rest of the indigenous population, a race
attached to its ancient traditions and customs. And here we see that same race
today, perfectly assimilated, having been liberated recently after centuries of
setbacks, in an advanced intellectual level, working and dressing in the same
manner as we do. . . . There are those among them who qualify for becoming
French citizens, based on their intellectual level. We can therefore say that the
hour has come to give Moroccan Jews the opportunity to become French.4
This approach was only of benefit to the “liberated,” the most edu
cated. Besides, the description of Moroccan Jewry in de Stahl s assess
ment is on the one hand misleading, and rosy on the other. De Stahl,
like the French Protectorate, did not wish to see large-scale naturaliza
tion and consequently make enemies for the Protectorate among the
Muslims. As Lyautey would argue, large-scale naturalization or a Cré-
mieux-style decree would stir political animosity among Morocco s Mus
lims as it has, over the years, in Algeria. Lyautey and his successors to
the Residency in Rabat also feared that once the Jews of Morocco ob
tained French citizenship, they would be on equal footing with the
European settler community. The latter did not much care for the Jews,
whereas the Crémieux Decree in Algeria helped fuel the flames of Euro
pean discontent and anti-Semitism. The French contended that Mo
rocco, moreover, was not an integral part of Metropolitan France, as was
Algeria, but a Protectorate, and therefore they lacked the authority to
promote large-scale naturalization policies. And they were doubtless
reluctant to challenge the rabbinic courts over judicial matters.
If the French were anxious about these problems, they were equally
apprehensive about adverse reactions from the politically motivated Muslim
intellectuals who eventually emerged as Morocco s nationalists advocat
ing independence. Any policy of divide et im pera was challenged by
these groups from the outset. Part of the opposition to judicial policies
was attributed to French efforts in the post-Lyautey period to temporar
ily deviate from certain aspects of the status quo and remove the Berbers
from the influence of the Shari ca courts. In May 1930 a zahtr was
published under French pressure, interpreting French policy for the

placement of Berber tribes under French criminal law, and recognizing
the judicial competence of the tribal je m a ca or Berber customary court
of appeal. This policy was clearly intended to reduce the influence of the
Shari ca courts among the Berbers and thus, if implemented, would have
created deep divisions between Arab and Berber communities.
The zah lr was never implemented, for the opposition among the
Muslims to this policy was overwhelming. The French were now more
cautious than ever about granting legislative benefits to Moroccans or
recommending such reforms to Paris. They even appeared indifferent to
selective naturalization in French Morocco, even though in Tunisia they
had reluctantly adopted the aforementioned 1923 French citizenship law.
Conceding defeat, one pro-naturalization Jewish activist lamented in
1936: “We have failed to score a success on the naturalization question;
it is now impossible to obtain any concessions on this point/’5
The Politics o f Education in the Colonial Era:

Until 1945
French cultural and educational influence in North Africa intensified

following the French conquest of Algeria and the establishment of French
Protectorates in Tunisia and Morocco. Alongside the French public school
system which was, in the case of Algeria and Tunisia, increasingly at
tended by Jewish youths, the schools of the Alliance Israélite Universelle
(AIU hereafter) made serious inroads into several important communi
ties. The AIU had been created by French Jews in Paris in May 1860 to
struggle for Jewish political rights and work toward Jewish educational
modernization worldwide, especially in the Ottoman Empire, the Bal
kans, and Morocco. Adding to its agenda the formation of school net
works, its educational institutions— both primary and secondary schools
— offered French/European alongside traditional Jewish curricula. Its
schools in Tunisia predated the Protectorate era, for they had existed in
Tunis since 1878. However, the penetration of AIU educational influence
there was made possible by the efforts of local French consuls and
chargés d’affaires. By 1910 the AIU network in Tunisia extended into the
cities of Sfax and Sousse, but not to Jerba and other small communities
of the south where opposition to modernization was strongly manifested.
The situation was similar in Morocco where the AIU established

schools beginning in 1862, fifty years preceding the Protectorate. There,
too, French consuls and ministers-plenipotentiary not only assisted the
Paris AIU in reinforcing the existing schools, but negotiated with the
Jewish communities to establish new ones. The French and other Euro
pean diplomatic emissaries in Tunisia and Morocco saw the AIU as an
instrument for modernizing the Jews. These Europeans considered the
Jews, more than the Muslims, as a potentially progressive element in the
population who could serve European interests in the precolonial period.
Over the years numerous Jews benefited from these schools, which after
1945-46 were supplemented by American/Jewish-sponsored modernized
Sephardi religious schools known as Osâr ha-Tora (OH hereafter), the
vocational schools of the ORT network, the Lubavitch institutions, and
Protectorate-sponsored schools. Though many remained poor as late as
the 1960s, an elite of white-collar professionals, a modernized stratum of
artisans, and, in general, educated and semi-educated elements who
spoke, read, and wrote French— emerged in Tunisia and Morocco. Many
had left the Moroccan m ellàhs and Tunisian h arat al-Y ahüd Jewish resi
dential districts for the modern European quarters built by the Protecto
rates.
How do the Algerian Jews and their elites fit into our analysis? Algeria
represented a special situation without any doubt. We have seen that,
unlike the Protectorates, Algeria became an integral part of France. As
Algeria drew closer to France politically, militarily, and culturally, the
Jews— with the support of French Jewry— inevitably also became part
of France. The Algerian and French consistories, dominated by rabbis
and lay leaders, worked together in accentuating the need for French
education while simultaneously encouraging the preservation of the Jew
ish heritage. Given their status as French citizens since 1870, Algerian
Jews thereafter benefited from the right to attend the French public,
purely secular and integrated, schools, created by the colonial adminis
tration.
Consequently, the AIU played a marginal role in educating Algerian
Jewry, whereas it played the major formative educational and intellectual
role for Moroccan Jewry, while Tunisian Jews could choose between
both AIU and Protectorate schools. Hence, Algerian Jewry led the way
both in regard to the pace of French cultural assimilation and in the
attainment of civil and political rights. They were far ahead of Moroccan
Ouezzan: An Important Pilgrimage Site for Muslim and Jewish Religious and
Cultural Celebrations (author s personal collection).
Jew ry, who w ere not particularly encouraged by the P ro tecto rate to
attend F re n ch public schools oth er than the A l lf s .
This last point about M orocco d eserves special attention in my analysis
con cern in g the politics of education. W h ereas in the p re -P ro te cto ra te era
the F re n ch consuls w ent out of th eir way to w elcom e Jew ish youths into
th eir consular schools (as well as to help the AIU expand its netw ork in
M orocco), F re n ch P ro tecto rate officials after 1912 exercised caution in
their policies. In fact, ju st as the F re n ch in M orocco did not recom m en d
granting political/judicial privileges to the Jew s, as late as the m id-1940s
at least the R esidency was equally hesitant to enroll Jewish youths in the
schools intended for the E u ro p ean population— the é c o l e s e u r o p é e n n e s .
Its officials in M orocco thought that m ost Jew s would rem ain loyal to
F ra n ce in any case, with or w ithout receiving special educational and
political privileges. After all, the very existence of the P ro tecto rate of
fered them the kind o f security they had longed for. W anting the Jew s to
progress in the path of F re n ch cu ltu re, the F re n ch nonetheless argued
that the process should take place outside the framework of the é c o le s
e u r o p é e n n e s : through the A IU and o th er special institutions.
In essence, the French in Morocco adhered to Lyautey’s general

formulae, discussed previously. They studiously avoided anything that
might unnecessarily antagonize Europeans and did not wish to appear as
being more generous to the Jews than to the Muslims, thus upsetting the
very delicate “social equilibrium” of indigenous society. The majority of
the Jews continued to frequent the AIU and, to a lesser extent, the very
few special schools, almost exclusively for Jews, known as the écoles
fran co-israélites. As Roger Gaudefroy-Demombynes, a Protectorate offi
cial, remarked in 1927:
It is perhaps regrettable that the Jews are not assimilating to the European
population. We have no interest in isolating or removing them. But, their
acceptance into the primary-level écoles eu rop éen n es will not be looked upon
favorably in the eyes of the European families and it would arouse the Muslims.
. . , [Moreover], the Jews of Morocco, subjects of the Sultan, are under our
protection as are the Moroccan Muslims. We cannot enable these Jews to reach
a respectable status in the country at the expense of their former masters. If we
will be regarded as those who prefer to develop the education of the Jews or if
we will be in a situation whereby the education of the Muslims would lag behind
it, we will cause harsh demoralization among the Muslims and unrest. . . .
Sooner or later social and economic disequilibrium will occur between the Jew
and the Muslim, and this we would like to delay as much as possible.6
Despite this policy, the Jews managed to undergo social mobility to a

greater degree than the Muslims owing to their avidity for educational
progress. The most affluent and privileged among them succeeded in
enrolling their children in the écoles eu ropéennes. On the other hand,
by mostly frequenting the AIU schools, they avoided becoming “over
assimilated” to French culture, given the Jewish character of these insti
tutions— and much to the delight of the French Residency.
Interestingly, Muslims frequented special modem Protectorate schools—
écoles franco-m usulm anes— which were subdivided into schools for youths
from prominent families (écoles des fils d e notables); urban schools for
artisan youths (écoles urbaines); and rural/agricultural schools for Arabo-
Berber youths (écoles rurales) in the countryside. This belle hiérarch ie
as part of a plan of preserving the sociopolitical status quo in indigenous
society, yet promoting French education, produced a system that would
correspond to the existing hierarchies. Consequently, the graduates of
the French “native schools” went different ways afterwards. The urban
The Çarfatï Synagogue in the M elldh of Fez (author s personal collection).
schools’ graduates en tered the family trade or a vocational high school;

the rural schools’ graduates w ent into th eir p aren ts’ profession of agricul
ture and farming; while the youths from prom inent families enrolled in
the c o llè g e s m u s u lm a n s : high schools for Muslims established in F e z ,
Casablanca, Rabat, and even Azrou in the b le d . T he com ponents of the
Muslim intellectual elite w ere eventually in tegrated from the c o llè g e s for
b ureau cratic em ploym ent. T herefore, social mobility could be realized
within each fram ework: an artisan rem ained an artisan, a peasant re
m ained a peasant, and the middle and upper-m iddle strata retained th eir
status also.7 It rem ains to be studied if similar models applied in Spanish
M orocco and the International Zone of Tangier.
W h ereas in th e 1950s the m ajority of urban Jew ish youths and young
adults began to m aster the F re n ch language in significant num bers, at
the exp ense o f Ju deo-A rabic, while both Spanish and F re n ch b ecam e
widespread am ong th eir cou nterp arts in the International Zone of Tan
gier and Spanish M orocco, sim ilar results w ere not apparent am ong the
Muslims. This was partly attributable to the continued indifference to
modem education by the Arab-Berber masses and partly owing to the

failure of the colonial authorities to expand the franco-m usulm ans schools
in proportion to Muslim demographic growth. In 1951-52, 67,722 Euro
peans were enrolled in schools (at least 90 percent of their school-age
children), as compared to 32,967 Jews, many of these at the AIU (60 to
70 percent of school-age children), while only 137,170 Muslims fre
quented modern schools out of 1,360,000 children of school age (10
percent).8
The Evolution o f Zionist Activity:

The Interwar Years
In North Africa as in other parts of the Diaspora, hope for the return to
Zion, the Land of Israel (also known as Eretz Yisrael), has always existed,
a hope that rested on messianic and religious concepts rather than on
political ones; and North African Jewry maintained lines of communica
tion— through correspondence, emissaries, and emigration— with Pal
estine. The evolution toward modern Zionism in the region begins in the
years 1900-1914 with the formation of Zionist associations, sometimes in
conjunction with European Zionists who visited or settled among them.
Beginning with Morocco in 1900, three years after the first interna
tional Zionist Congress that convened in Basle, Dr. Yacakov Berliawski,
a Russian physician, settled in Tetuan and established there the Shivat-
Zion association together with local supporters. At the time a second
association, known as Sha care-Zion, was created in Essaouira— perhaps
the first group to popularize the sh eq el (Zionist membership card ob
tained by payment of fees) in North Africa and to send the Zionist
Federation in Cologne over two hundred sh eqalim y entitling the Essa
ouira association to two representatives at the Zionist Congress; but this
opportunity was not exploited. A third association, Ahavat-Zion, was
founded in Safi.9
In 1908 the Hibbat-Zion society was established in Fez. It engaged in
correspondence with the important Zionist center in Cologne, popular
ized the sh e q ely and expanded its activities to include neighboring Sefrou
and Meknès. During the early period of the Protectorate some of these
associations were dormant or no longer in existence. Yet new ones sprang
up during the 1930s and 1940s. The Balfour Declaration of 1917 and the
Alfred Valensi (1878-1944), A Leader of Tunisian Zionism (courtesy of Im Gazette

d'Israël, 20 June 1951).
San Remo Conference of 1920— which supported the cause of Jews

building a national homeland in Palestine— were hailed in Morocco and
encouraged local Zionists to strengthen ties with European Zionism.
Ashkenazi Zionists of Eastern European background such as Wolff Hil-
perine, Anshel Perl, Zeimig Spivacoff, Zeide Schulmann, and Solomon
Cagan, either visiting or living in Morocco, assisted local Zionists in this
endeavor.10
An important segment of Zionist sympathizers consisted of either
rabbis or graduates of the AIU schools. Their enthusiasm was reinforced
by the envoys of the Jewish National Fund (JN F) and the Jewish Foun
dation Fund (JF F ), who raised funds for Jewish settlements in Palestine.
O f special importance was the arrival in the early 1920s of Dr. Nathan
Halpern and Ariel Bension of the JF F . They informed their Jewish
audiences in the major centers of Tangier, Tetuan, Casablanca, Rabat,
and Fez about events in the Yishuv and in the Zionist world. Though
frequently hampered by the French Protectorate from publicly politiciz
ing in favor of Palestine, they faced less challenges in Spanish Morocco,
Tangier, Tunisia, and Algeria from the authorities. The French Protecto
rate in Morocco, particularly under Lyautey, was tough on Zionism,
considering any “nationalist” effort— Muslim or Jewish— as an attempt
to undermine French influence.11
Zionist federations sprang up in the three Maghribi countries. The
one in French Morocco was tolerated by the authorities so long as it
remained subordinate to the Zionist Federation of France. Indeed, the
Fédération Sioniste de France/Section du Maroc— as the Zionist federa
tion in French Morocco came to known at its inception in 1 9 23-24— was
no more than an offshoot of the metropolitan French Zionist federation.
It was never recognized officially as was the case in Tunisia with the
Fédération Sioniste de Tunisie. Supplementing the work of the federa
tions in the French and Spanish Protectorates were unofficial pro-Zionist
newspapers and bulletins, notably the Renacim iento de Israel (for the
Spanish and International zones), edited by Anshel Perl, and L'Avenir
Illustré in Casablanca, published between 1926 and 1940 by the Polish-
born Jonathan Thursz.12
In assessing Zionist progress in Morocco until the outbreak of World
War II, it should be noted that the presence of local Zionists and envoys
from Palestine and Europe still had a limited effect on the Jews as a
whole. Moroccan Zionism at this time was not caliya-oriented; it was still
philanthropic in nature, emphasizing the need to fund-raise on behalf of

Eastern and Central European settlers already living in Palestine. None
theless, it did constitute a framework for post-1939 expansion which came
in the wake of certain events. During the 1940s the movement gradually
attracted a following, and not merely from the ranks of the secularly
educated leadership. Zionism’s subsequent development could be traced
to circumstances already evident before World War II:
1. The failure on the part of the colonial authorities in French Mo
rocco to enact legislation to detach the Jews completely from the m akh -
z a n s jurisdiction and from their status as a “protected people” under
Islam had positive consequences for Moroccan Zionism. The refusal of
the French Protectorate to consider granting the Jews French citizenship
or other legal privileges, and a similar policy in the Spanish Zone,
disillusioned at least some of those who obtained a French education at
the elementary and postelementary levels, and encouraged them to seek
alternatives to emancipation à Veuropéenne.
2. Political trends in the Yishuv, including the Arab Revolt (1936-39),
and the call for the increase of Jewish emigration to Palestine from
various parts of the Diaspora, encouraged segments of Moroccan Jewry
to become more involved in supporting Zionist enterprises, including
those whose brand of Zionism was apolitical and traditional. Manifesting
solidarity with the Yishuv, Moroccan Zionists complained during the
1930s that the Jews of Palestine were victims of injustice, with the British
Mandate about to restrict emigration to the Yishuv in connection with
the Passfield White Paper. The British, they argued, were giving in to
Arab claims and playing Arab against Jew. The Arabs should have learned
by now that the British ought not to be trusted. What had ever come of
British promises for independence to the Hashimites and the Sharif
Husayn in Arabia and Iraq during World War I? The British were simply
launching strategies of divide and rule. On the other hand, the Jewish
colonizers had proven to the Arabs of Palestine their sincere intentions
of coexistence and brought with them industrial ingenuity and prosper
ity. 13
3. Poverty was still rampant in parts of Morocco where the AIU and
the French as well as Spanish Protectorates failed to extend their influ
ence, or where, despite their efforts, the level of destitution remained
high. Poverty eventually became a weapon in the hands of the envoys of
the Mossad Le-cAliya and the Jewish Agency, for they could play on the
frustrations of the poor who sought alternatives to ameliorate their status.

Yet as late as 1932 Lucien Saint, then the resident-general, could assert
confidently in his letter to the regional head at Rabat that the economic
situation in Palestine was so precarious that the Moroccan Jews who
intended to settle there would be condemned to misery, unless of course
they possessed sufficient capital. As this was rarely the case, he noted,
they would become candidates for repatriation.14
4. Whereas the French Protectorate in particular closed down certain
Zionist clubs and never really tolerated any sort of intensive political
activity, it was more tolerant of Zionism from the mid-1930s onward,
owing to the more accommodating attitude of the post-Lyautey Resi
dency. Furthermore, the envoys of the J F F and JN F managed somehow
to enter French Morocco and over the years fortified ties with the Jewish
population.
Tunisian Jewry’s identification with their faith was extended to include
solidarity with, and interest in, the rest of the Diaspora and the Yishuv.
During the middle and late nineteenth century there was sufficient
evidence of cultural identification with the Jewish world. Jewish news
papers and periodicals published in Hebrew in Poland, Russia, Prussia,
and Austro-Hungary reached Tunisia and Morocco. They included arti
cles by Peretz Smolenskin, Aharon David Gordon, and Nahum Sokolow,
and caught the attention of the early Zionist protagonists as well as the
small but dynamic circles of the local Hebrew masktlim (advocates of
Jewish cultural renaissance and of enlivening the Hebrew language).15
Similar to Morocco where Zionist associations were first created in the
coastal and seaport communities before spreading to the inland, Tunis,
the most important Jewish coastal community, was the starting point for
Zionist activity. In addition to Agudat-Zion, founded in 1910 or 1911, the
most significant associations created between 1913 and 1920 included:
Ohave-Zion in Sfax; Bne-Zion in Béja; Terahem-Zion in Sousse; Atereth-
Zion in Jerba; Tifadeh-Zion in Nabeul; Hibbat-Zion in Tunis; and Ba-
hure-Zion in Tunis. In comparison with the pioneer Moroccan Zionists,
by the end of World War I the Tunisians comprised a small but not
necessarily cohesive group of rabbis and secularly oriented young men
whose aims were confined to the popularization of the sh eqel, the cele
bration of Zionist diplomatic victories such as the Balfour Declaration,
and the expansion of the membership of both activists and affiliates.
There were hardly any efforts to stimulate caliya> for these associations
were far from constituting mass movements and were sometimes dor
mant. This was partly attributed to the fact that most French-educated
Zionists dwelt in the suburbs of Tunis (Ariana, La Goulette, La Marsa)
where Europeans (Frenchmen, Spaniards, Italians) resided. These Zion
ist activists were therefore detached from the h arat al-Y ahüd— the home
of the Jewish masses.
O f the active Zionists it was Alfred Valensi and his wife, Marcelle,
together with Joseph Brami and Henri Maarek who strengthened ties to
European Zionism, participated in Zionist congresses, and kept the most
remote Tunisian communities in the inland informed about events in the
Yishuv.
Despite Valensi’s intellectual brilliance— he was a graduate of French
primary and secondary schools and had pursued law studies at Montpel
lier— and Brami’s excellence as an orator and organizer, they failed to
attract large numbers of supporters. Valensi did succeed, however, in
forming the Fédération Sioniste de Tunisie in 1920 which received offi
cial recognition from the French Protectorate administration. As was the
case in Morocco, the FST was created with the clear aim of serving as an
umbrella organization that would unify all existing or newly founded
associations scattered in the coastal, seaport, and inland communities.
But problems emerged from the outset that were destined to plague the
FST, split its membership, and strengthen competing neo-Zionist groups,
several of which espoused more radical ideologies.
What were the main problems that retarded and virtually neutralized
the FS T ’s efforts for some time to come? Most importantly, the departure
in 1926 of Valensi from the Zionist scene, following his decision to settle
in France, was a major setback for the movement. Equally significant
was the sudden death of Brami in 1924. The movement in Tunis, the
FST, and Agudat-Zion thus lost two key figures who had been consistent
in promoting unity among the factions and in coordinating channels of
communications between the FST in Tunis and the associations through
out the country.
Secondly, while the mainstream Zionist FST was in shambles, Ze5 ev
Jabotinsky’s Zionist Revisionist movement began to penetrate its ranks
during the late 1920s in an attempt to fill the leadership vacuum. By
1932-33, the Revisionists set up their own Zionist federation, separate
from the already weakened FST, then headed by two key mainstream
Zionists: Victor Cattan and Simon Bellahsen. The main leaders of the
Revisionist federation were Elie Luzun of Sfax and Alfred Rossi as well
as Robert Brunschvig of Tunis. The latter, an Alsatian Jew, had been a
p rofesseu r at the prestigious Tunis lycée. He subsequently taught at the
Université d'Alger, becoming one of the most renowned Orientalists. By
1939, Revisionism became the predominant Zionist political trend in
Tunisia with several thousand members supporting its endeavors.
Indeed, Tunisian Jewry's Zionism and political life of the late 1920s
and early 1930s were diverse, a center of Maghribi Jewish factionalism.
The Revisionist trend is one aspect that needs further elaboration. So is
the growth of the youth/young adult movement Union Universelle de la
Jeunesse Juive (UUJJ), and the appearance of ha-Shomer ha-Tsa cir and
the JN F Force.
Returning to Revisionism, not only did a Revisionist Zionist federation
come into being, but in 1932 its world youth movement, Betar, was also
introduced in Tunisia. Its promoters were Alfred Rossi, Félix Allouche,
Yosef Ankri, and Ephraim Luzun. They created branches of Betar in
Tunis, Sousse, Sfax, and Gabès; the leader of Betar was Ephraim Luzun
from Tunis. Together they built Betar into a viable force, accentuating
its lines of policy and attracting the World Zionist Organization. In Tunis
a political club was founded by the Betarim where they organized lec
tures and exchanged harsh words with Jabotinsky's leftist opponents.
Betar and the Revisionist movement in Tunisia were reinforced by Zion
ist newspapers, notably Félix Allouche's L e Réveil J u i f (1924-1934/35),
La Voix Ju iv e , Les C ah iers du B éta r (1930s), and La G azette d'Israël
(1938-51). L es C ah iers du B étar was of short duration. However, it was
quite extreme in its methods of attracting the local mainstream Zionists
as well as the Muslim nationalists of Habib Bourguiba's Neo-Destour
movement.16
The Union Universelle de la Jeunesse Juive (UUJJ) was another im
portant starting point in the history of the Zionist and pro-Zionist youth
and scouting movement of Tunisia. At the beginning of the twentieth
century, youth and scouting movements gradually gained worldwide
popularity among youths aged nine to twenty and young adults in their
twenties. In France there emerged in 1920 a scouting movement within
which the Eclaireurs Israélites de France (E IF) was created. For young
people in their twenties French Jewry established the UUJJ, recruiting
students and maintaining cordial contacts with youth centers globally. It
accentuated Jewish values and the necessity for Jewish colonization.
Interestingly, while in Paris, Tunisian Jewish students joined the UUJJ

and, in 1924, founded a branch of the movement in Tunis. In 1927 it
became a scouting force, affiliated with the E l F in France.
Confronting Betar and other Revisionists was ha-Shomer ha-Tsa cir
which had emerged in Palestine during the 1920s as a youth organization
promoting the kibbutz. It, too, evolved in Tunisia in the late 1920s after
two Belgian members, on their way to Palestine, stopped in Tunis. First
they infiltrated the UUJJ and, having succeeded in gaining members,
created a branch of ha-Shomer ha-Tsa cir in Tunis, called Eclaireurs Juifs
de Tunisie.
The movement, however, did not make real inroads in Tunisia or
elsewhere in North Africa before the mid- or late 1940s. From the late
1920s until 1935, when its activities were temporarily halted, ha-Shomer
ha-Tsacir was not welcome. Opposition stemmed from assimilationists,
traditionalists, mainstream Zionists, and Revisionists. Active mostly in
Tunis, it was the first movement to advocate massive youth caliyay an
appeal equally supported since the early 1930s by Betar. But few enlisted
their support for the kibbu tz movement. The traditionalists opposed it
because of the repercussions it would have on the traditionally close-knit
family unit. The Revisionists, on the other hand, accused the movement
of active involvement in communist activity and denounced its advoca
tion of a collective communistic life-style. Nearly all segments of the
Jewish population were then critical of the movement s support of equal
ity among the sexes and their integration in joint social activity.17 The
only genuine allies of ha-Shomer ha-Tsa cir were the local socialists (Jews
and Europeans), who actually ensured the movement’s continued sur
vival. They opened their intellectual cercles to its members, enabling
them to pursue their aims. They furthermore wrote articles in the local
press supporting their cause.
Several envoys from ha-Shomer ha-Tsa cir in Palestine arrived in
Tunisia in 1931 to strengthen ties with local activists and to encourage
caliya. But as Raphael Ben-Asher (Journo), a former activist, suggested,
the rise of fascism in Europe focused members’ attention on the triumph
of socialism over Hitler and Mussolini rather than on emigration. The
handful of young Tunisian Jews who did visit Palestine returned frus
trated, claiming that by colonizing they were depriving the Bedouin and
Arab population of their land (in the Wadi IlawarithAEmeq Hefer area)
and livelihood; others left the movement and joined either the illegal
Communist party or— at the other political extreme— Betar.18 It may be

added that the world economic crisis at the time drove the movement to
adopt an increasingly leftist orientation, leading to continuous ideological
confrontations with Betar and the Revisionists, the forces that were
gaining popularity among Zionist-inspired youths.
A few young Zionists loyal to ha-Shomer ha-Tsa cir, joined by others,
among them the now famous writer Albert Memmi, Yitshak Avrahami
(the son of Joseph Brami), and Raphael Ben-Asher, founded the JN F
Force, which, together with the UUJJ, supplemented the work of the
JN F in Tunis. They were inspired by leftist trends in France, particularly
the emergence of Léon Blum and his Popular Front. Most of the efforts,
however, centered on the propagation of Hebrew. Avrahami, a key
activist, described the Force as composed of Jews from traditional back
grounds as well as from the developing French-educated middle class
and the more affluent bourgeoisie who had deserted the U U JJ.19 When
the war broke out and the Vichyites imposed political restrictions, fol
lowed by the German occupation, Zionist activity, including that of the
Force, was in serious jeopardy.
Unlike Tunisia and Morocco, the Zionist movement in Algeria was
almost completely dormant in the interwar years. It was the least colorful
and least dynamic in North Africa because of the strong assimilationist
currents of the local Jewish communities. The Algerian Jewish scene was
totally different from either that in Morocco or Tunisia. The earliest sign
of limited activity may be traced to September 1897, when members of a
small circle of Algerian Zionists in the city of Constantine sent a letter to
the Zionist Federation of Vienna heartily endorsing the idea of Zionism.20
At about the time of the Fourth Zionist Congress, however, only about
150 people had been recruited for the Zionist cause. Language was an
additional obstacle to the spread of the Zionist idea. The Algerian Jews
were ignorant of modem Hebrew; Spanish and Judeo-Spanish were mostly
prevalent in northern Morocco and in Oran, where Jews of Spanish
ancestry dwelt; Judeo-Arabic, the language spoken by most North Afri
can Jews, was not efficiently used for promoting political Zionist themes
at the time. French had to be the medium for the propagation of modern
Zionism. When it was understood that Zionist committees in Vienna and
Cologne were willing to correspond with Algerian Zionists in German, a
leading Zionist wrote to Vienna in 1900, asserting quite bluntly: “Inutile
de rien envoyer en langue allemande: je ne comprend, hélas! que le

français/ 21 In other words: do not waste our time if you plan to pursue
correspondence in German. Indeed, there was very little activity from
1900 until 1920; no local federation came into being; few or no associa
tions flourished; and the Zionist press was virtually nonexistent. Only
after 1920 were there some developments in Constantine, the most
“Jewish” city in Algeria, and to a smaller degree in Algiers, Oran, and
Tlemcen.
The Union Sioniste Algérienne, created in 1920, intended to serve as
one of the unifying forces for local associations. It was made up of 270
members, most of whom were inactive.22 This attitude of indifference on
the part of Zionists and non-Zionists was also reflected in the lack of
concern for the development of a Jewish and Zionist press. The only
effective pro-Zionist newspaper was Elie Gozlan’s Bulletin d e la F éd éra
tion des Sociétés Ju iv es d A lg érie (B FSJA )y the most serious French-
language newspaper in Jewish Algeria. Yet it did not begin to appear
until 1934, and it never became an official organ for Zionist activity. In
the following years the BFSJA remained the major organ of Algerian
Jewry until 1948. It attacked anti-Semitic manifestations in Europe and
somehow continued publication into the Vichy and post-Vichy periods.
Irrespective of anti-Semitic outbursts on the part of the European
settlers of Algeria before, during, and after the Dreyfus Affair in France,
Algerian Jews were ostensibly of the opinion that the Jewish press was
intended to serve as a defense against prejudice and oppression in other
countries, not their own. They considered themselves liberated, eman
cipated, and as enjoying equal rights with the Europeans. Therefore,
they saw no need for Zionism. In fact, in 1921 Lucien Smadja, a Zionist
leader from Algiers, had complained that the sh eqel drive could not be
launched in view of the attacks directed at Zionist cultural and fund
raising efforts by many of the French-educated Jews. There were no
more than three hundred dues-paying members in Algiers; only the less
educated and economically disadvantaged were willing to offer some
assistance. The affluent Jews were too proud at the time of their privi
leges à la C rém ieux to even consider Zionism as an emancipatory alter
native.23 In 1927, an editorial in Tunisia s pro-Revisionist newspaper L e
Réveil J u i f castigated assimilation in Algeria. The Jews were accused of
living outside the Jewish world, of being ashamed of their heritage. In
Oran, where according to the editorial 30,000 Jews dwelt, only 120 were
members of the UUJJ; intermarriage, too, was a widespread phenome-
Jews in Political Conflict: The AIU and the

Zionists o f the Interwar Years
Despite broad support for the AIU’s educational endeavors among Mo
roccan and Tunisian Jewry, the opposition to, and misgivings about, the
AIU among French-educated Zionists, including AIU alumni, should not
be underestimated. This was especially the case in Tunisia, our main
focus here.
To begin with, it is noteworthy that though most Tunisians and Moroc
can Zionists of the interwar years were not conducting caliy ay this idea
was the ultimate goal of all Zionists. On the one hand, the AIU through
its numerous schools in the Mediterranean basin aspired to transform
and liberate Jews in their respective countries, and to fight for legislative
reform, bringing the Jews closer to France. The Zionists, on the other
hand, called for a greater Zionist cultural education and stressed the
centrality of Palestine as well as the need for the Jews in the Diaspora to
manifest solidarity with the Yishuv— financially, politically, and morally.
This was unacceptable to the AIU for quite some time.
Until the 1930s, and perhaps later, French-educated Tunisian Zionists
viewed the AIU, especially in Tunis, as their chief adversary. Alfred
Valensi, Joseph Brami, and Henri Maarek all sharply criticized the AIU.
The three men were particularly incensed with Albert Saguès, then AIU
school principal for Tunis, accusing him of fomenting anti-Zionism and
falsely depicting Tunisian Zionists as disloyal, anti-French, and British
agents. They were also angry with Sylvain Lévi, then president of the
AIU in Paris, a distinguished scholar at the Collège de France and a
skeptic about the future of the Yishuv. Lévi had made his views quite
clear to the Zionists during the Versailles Peace Conference, much to the
anger and dismay of Dr. Chaim Weizmann, president of the World
Zionist Organization. The Tunisian Zionists could not stomach this; they
considered Lévi’s opinions treacherous and associated them with the
overall AIU policy vis-à-vis Zionism.25 In fact, when two pro-Zionist
societies in Tunis— Yoshevet-Zion and Bahure-Zion— refused to re
proach Lévi for treason, the more militant Agudat-Zion, headed by

Valensi and Brami, attacked them in July 1919 for disloyalty to Zionism.
Valensi also attacked Joseph Cohen Ganouna, the respectable Jewish
editor-director of L ’E galité, for defending Lévi and for portraying this
main traitor against Zionism as “plus sioniste que certains sionistes”
(more Zionist than some Zionists).26
As noted previously, in 1920 the French Protectorate in Tunisia al
lowed the Agudat-Zion leaders to establish the Fédération Sioniste de
Tunisie. The purpose of the federation was not only to form an umbrella
organization to bring the various Zionist societies together. It was also
aimed at unifying the opposition to the AIU, as Valensi indicated.27
Valensi and Maarek in particular encouraged the Zionists in Europe and
the Protectorate authorities to push the AIU out of Tunisia. They did this
through the Jewish press and through correspondence with the World
Zionist Organization s new headquarters in London. Their principal ar
gument was that the AIU schools destroyed Jewish dignity and led
Jewish youths on the path of irresponsible assimilation to European
culture. One of the methods for getting rid of the AIU schools, they
suggested, was to replace them with écoles fran co-israélites, modeled on
the few French-Jewish schools established by the French Protectorate in
Morocco alongside of the AIU schools there.28 This development, if it
proved successful, they said, would enable Tunisian Jews to be rid of
all tutelage over our community, enabling it to take destiny into its own hands,
giving it a sense of responsibility, and granting it the power to exercise certain
liberties which otherwise would seem impossible in the future because of the
iniquitous intrusion of the Alliance Israélite Universelle in communal affairs. This
is how we hope to achieve the conquest of the communities which is the first
important stage toward the Zionization of the Jewish populations.29
Maarek, Allouche, and other adherents of either mainstream or Revi

sionist Zionism intensified their anti-AIU drive through L e Réveil Ju if.
Maarek, for his part, cautiously criticized the French educational pro
grams established by the Protectorate, but did not spare the AIU. Thus,
in November 1924, he expressed respect for France and French efforts
to promote the principles of democracy and social progress among Tu
nisian Jewry. He had the highest regard for the post-1789 French revo
lutionary philosophers and the inspiration that Jews derived from their
works. Although these philosophers’ sacred principles were taught in

most French schools, Maarek argued, this was not the case with the AIU
schools. Moreover, the AIU not only neglected Hebrew and religious
education, but its schools’ principals and teachers made a mockery of the
Jewish heritage and strove to violate every tenet of French education.
Instead of educating Jewish youths about human solidarity, the ideas of
equality, and the need to help the poor, the AIU taught them to disre
gard any type of solidarity, Jewish or universal, to be selfish, and to
become successful individuals attending to their specific needs. All of
this, he added, was communicated through the French language, the
medium of instruction in Tunisia and the rest of North Africa.30 These
allegations were untrue for the most part.
Maarek feared a continuing AIU role in Tunisia. Therefore, he regu
larly pleaded with the French to replace the AIU institutions with special
Protectorate-sponsored schools. He suggested that anti-AIU sentiment
was no longer confined to Tunis, but had spread elsewhere. For a long
time, he indicated, France had been persuaded by the AIU leaders that
Zionism served British and anti-French interests in Palestine and the
rest of the Middle East. France had not only turned its back on the
Zionist movement, but had failed to demonstrate sensitivity to Jewish
cultural needs, such as instruction in modern Hebrew. It was high time
for Tunisian Zionists to convince the French that just as Arabic was
taught in the Protectorate s écoles fr a n c o -a r a b e s , modem Hebrew must
take its natural place in the Jewish school program. The French had the
power to overrule the AIU on this and other pertinent issues of Jewish
concern.31
Indeed, from 1925 to 1930, Zionists in Tunis and Sfax had gone out of
their way to win French political support and, in fact, surpassed the AIU
in pressuring the French, directly and indirectly, to grant Tunisian Jews
French citizenship in significant numbers. They wanted more than what
the 1923 law for Tunisia provided, that is, that local Jews could only very
gradually obtain this privilege. Further, starting in 1926 they wrote
articles in the Jewish press praising the French for no longer being
victims of AIU deception and misinformation and for beginning to show
greater understanding for Jewish cultural needs.
How did the Zionists in Tunisia view their seemingly contradictory
claims?
Firstly, the Tunisian Zionists, like the AIU, did not find it too difficult
to urge that Jews be naturalized as French citizens. At the time, they did
not think that large-scale emigration to Palestine would take place from
North Africa. And until such a development took place, they needed
greater political rights as part of their social evolution and in recognition
of their attachment to France. In Morocco, too, local Zionists supported
the possibility of Moroccan Jews taking French citizenship. However, in
Morocco the Zionists supported a modest naturalization process while
the AIU school directors called for larger-scale naturalization. Mean
while, Tunisian Zionists were critical of the 1923 law and called for a
major reform of it. As Félix Allouche asserted in 1925 about the law: “this
law only applies to certain elements of the population. The immense
masses are still sacrificed. . . . If France had the intention of formulating
a [new] Crémieux Decree, to naturalize en bloc our brethren (as in
Algeria), we would have nothing more to say. The Jewish question in
Tunisia would be regulated. But this does not appear to be the case.”32
On the issues of Jewish culture and ties with France, it was Maarek
who suggested in 1926 that it would be a fairly short time before the
Protectorate ceased to be totally misled by the AIU. He praised France
for taking steps, at home, in support of reviving the Hebrew language,
for teaching Hebrew at certain French schools in Egypt, and for the
decision to create a Hebrew Studies Chair at the Ecole Nationale des
Langues Orientales Vivantes. Maarek then concluded happily that:
France is coming around to discover the Jewish people. She has ignored them as
such. . . . She was the first to grant them rights as individuals. . . . As a people,
as a national entity, France has always ignored that the Jews have conserved, for
centuries, the characteristics of a nation and a great civilization. . . . Once she
made the discovery, she was astonished.33
Did these efforts bear fruit? The French did not abrogate or signifi
cantly modify the 1923 naturalization law. Tunisian Jews continued to
obtain French citizenship only through a selective, rather than en b lo c ,
approach. Insofar as the French attitude toward Hebrew is concerned, it
would require a special study to assess progress in France. But in Tuni
sia, with certain exceptions, modern Hebrew did not emerge as a main
language in Protectorate schools. In the AIU schools, on the other hand,
we have no concrete evidence at this stage to show that modern Hebrew
was not taught in them in some form before and after 1920.
How did the AIU in France and North Africa react to Zionist activity
and to the criticism of its schools and leaders? Generally speaking, the
position of the AIU was not uniform.
AIU teachers and school principals in Morocco and Tunisia often
sharply criticized Zionist political aims regarding Palestine. However,
they sometimes supported Zionist cultural policies, such as the revival of
Hebrew, simply because, it was argued, such a development would be
beneficial to Jewish interests worldwide. Certain AIU officials were clearly
anti-Zionist, others were non-Zionist, merely indifferent to the move
ment s goals. In fact, during the middle and late 1930s, there were pro-
Zionist AIU teachers in Tunisia and Morocco who had lost faith in the
idea of emancipation à la fr a n ç a is e in the wake of the anti-Semitic events
in Europe. Nevertheless, the leaders of the AIU in France and its
delegates on the local level often warned the communities of the dangers
Zionism posed for all Jews.
In France, AIU personalities such as Alfred Berl, editor of the AIU
journal Paix et D roit, and the renowned French-Jewish scholar, Théo
dore Reinach, published articles in 1926-27 highly critical of the Zionists
and their activities in the Diaspora. These angered Zionists in North
Africa as in the days of Sylvain Lévi. Reinach and Berl argued that
Zionism presented a double danger: it would leave the Jews vulnerable
whether it succeeded in achieving its goals or not. If the Zionists did not
succeed in creating a Jewish national home in Palestine, the disillusion
ment might be so overwhelming that the Jewish world could face serious
ideological disorder. Tunisian Zionists interpreted this to mean that po
groms might be organized against the Yishuv. And why might the Zion
ists fail? Reinach and Berl stated that Palestine was not a “no man’s land.”
In addition to 80,000 Christians living there, there were some 700,000
Arab Muslims, and there was no hope that these Arabs could somehow
be persuaded to tolerate expropriation of tracts of land.34
On the other hand, if the Zionists did succeed in their program, then
— as Tunisian and Moroccan Zionists interpreted Reinach and B erl— not
only would a Jewish state emerge, but so would a Jewish embassy in the
heart of Paris, a development that might lead to anti-Semitic outbursts
like those at the height of the Dreyfus Affair.35
Yet, while Reinach and Berl’s statements on Zionism were not always
coherent, and their ideas suffered from inconsistencies, the position of
Jacques Bigart was clear and consistent. Bigart was AIU secretary from
1892 until his death in 1934. Shortly before he died, he received a letter
from Léon Pinhas, an AIU teacher in Safi in southern Morocco. Pinhas
informed him of the activities of Eliezer Turek, a JN F emissary. The
latter had told audiences at Safi about how Eastern and Central Euro
pean Jews had transformed the desert into an oasis in Palestine; that
Hebrew was spoken there, was an official language of the Mandate along
with Arabic and English, and was no longer merely the language of the
Bible; and that Jews in Romania, Poland, Russia, and Germany had
become zealous converts to Jewish nationalism and were emigrating to
Palestine.36
Pinhas reported to Bigart his unhappiness with Turek’s activity. Al
though we have no evidence to suggest that Turek went beyond the
collection of contributions for settling European Jews in Palestine, Pinhas
deplored what he called an increase in sympathy for Zionist concepts; he
knew of some defections from the AIU, and he argued that clustering
large numbers of Jewish emigrants in Palestine would not be productive.
In the Diaspora, Jews had been under constant pressure to produce,
since just by virtue of being Jewish they had to work harder and compete
more fiercely to succeed in the socioeconomic sphere. In Palestine,
however, a Jewish entity would eliminate such pressure and competition.
Given that the Jews would be “one happy family*’ there, Jewish produc
tivity would inevitably stagnate.37
Responding to this report, Bigart justified the AIU’s indifference to
the Zionist idea:
Can we, who have fought for long years to win the people over to the idea of
complete emancipation for the Jews, adhere to a movement which denies our
efforts? The emancipation from our point of view has been the absolute, complete
adaptation of the Jew to his newly adopted nation [France]; Zionism under its
insincere guise, condemns this adaptation. This is the profound reason which led
the Alliance to remain unfriendly to Zionism, not to mention other objections,
notably the impossibility of establishing in Palestine, one tenth of the Jews who
wish to settle there, the presence of a hostile Muslim population, and the
necessity for England to appease the latter.38
The AIU clearly stressed the vital importance of a continued Jewish

presence in the Diaspora and the need for international Jewish organiza
tions to help Jews become better integrated in their sol natal. At the
same time, the AIU did create schools in Palestine, recognizing that
there would always be a certain number of Jews there. Nevertheless,

despite the dominant policy of the AIU Central Committee in Paris,
more and more AIU teachers in Morocco and elsewhere began to recon
sider their own indifference and hostility to the Zionist idea. For ex
ample, David Béhar, an AIU teacher in a small community on the
southern coast of Morocco, expressed enthusiasm in 1938 about the
recent gains made by Zionists in the Diaspora. Béhar, a native of Turkey,
related that he felt no allegiance to a country (Turkey) where he was
merely despised. In his opinion, the AIU had aimed, since its inception
in 1860, at the emancipation of the Jews in the Diaspora. Further, using
its schools in France and throughout the Mediterranean basin atf a means,
it worked to achieve their assimilation in society at large. The first aim
had been achieved. Middle Eastern and North African Jewry had bene
fited from the AIU educationally and economically. But the Jews had
failed to integrate, an anomaly that became a serious stumbling block for
the AIU. The Jews were constantly reminded of their religious origin and
their lack of patriotism.39
Sylvain Halff, then secretary of the AIU, responded to Béhars assess
ment of the problems involved in assimilation as a goal. He understood
Béhar s concern, particularly in light of the resurgent anti-Semitism in
Europe at the time. But he rejected any recognition of the Zionist
alternative. He urged on the teacher the view that anti-Semitism in
Europe, France included, and the lack of assimilation of Moroccan and
Tunisian Jews, particularly given the French desire not to alienate the
Muslims, were temporary. Halff added, “it is justified that we ask our
selves, if the solution of desperation which for you in the final analysis is
Zionism, is nothing more than a distorted historical perspective. You
forgot that all the difficulties which Judaism had known over the course
of time and over which it triumphed, and even the current problems do
not constitute but another phase in the struggle for emancipation.”40
The AIU school principals and delegates were not as compromising
vis-à-vis Zionism as was an increasing number of the teachers. Albert
Saguès, the leading AIU representative in Tunis from 1912 until the
1920s, and Yomtov David Sémach, the AIU delegate in Morocco from
1924 to 1940, firmly opposed political Zionism (though they favored the
Hebrew renaissance). They engaged in organized propaganda against it.
In 1920, Saguès published a controversial pamphlet on the conflict be
tween the AIU and the Zionist movement. His central theme was that
the Jews of Metropolitan France and French North Africa, as well as the
United States, England, and Italy, preferred their pays natal and nothing
motivated them to settle in Palestine. Consequently, a Jewish state
established in Palestine would be populated by a marginal segment of
the Jewish people. Hence, Palestine would not supply a solution to the
Jewish question. Quite to the contrary, such a state would aggravate the
Jewish position: by forming a separate, distinct, and autonomous entity,
the Jewish inhabitants of the Yishuv would further encourage the anti-
Semites in their claim that Jews were opposed to integration into the
societies in which they lived, unwilling and unable to assimilate.41
Turning to the British role, Saguès contended that England’s leader
ship used the Zionist cause to effectively reinforce its imperialist interests
in the Near and Middle East. Thus, when Tunisian Zionists reproached
Saguès for fomenting anti-Zionism by misrepresenting them as disloyal
to France and as British agents,42 their accusations may not have been
far-fetched. He then suggested that in the struggle for Jewish emancipa
tion, the AIU and other non-Zionist Jewish organizations had made
partial progress through political lobbying as well as through the spread
of modern education. Nevertheless, since the battle for a comprehensive
solution to the many problems then facing different parts of the Diaspora
was far from won, the Zionists had seized the opportunity to exploit
desperate situations in order to augment their influence. Ought the AIU
to collaborate with French, Tunisian, and Moroccan Zionists in confront
ing the challenge? Saguès did not think so. He bluntly asserted, “L ’Alli
ance ne pouvait s’y affilier. Y adhérer eut [été] pour elle, un véritable
suicide.’’ (The Alliance could not become affiliated with them. Joining
them would have been sheer suicide for it.)43
In Morocco, Sémach’s position was just as explicit. He was in fact far
more aggressive in confronting the Zionists face to face and often sat in
on the meetings organized by the JN F and J F F emissaries, so as to learn
about their strategies. Prior to 1914, when he was active on behalf of the
AIU in Beirut and Baghdad, Sémach’s views on Zionism had been mod
erate and realistic in the sense that he thought the AIU should not reject
the option of Zionist-AIU coexistence. However, by 1919, when he was
in charge of the AIU schools in Tangier, his attitude toward local Zionists
was less sympathetic, though, at the time, he was not deeply concerned
with Zionist influence on the Moroccan communities. It had very little
appeal then and was far from constituting a serious political current; it
was a voice in the desert without an echo. Sémach thus concluded that
“Moroccan Zionism does not enjoy . . . today any [level of] importance.
It may become active only if it finds a propagandist capable of placing it
in contact with European Zionism. ’44
Sémach did change his position several years later, when he served as
AIU delegate for French and Spanish Morocco as well as for the Interna
tional Zone of Tangier. From his headquarters in Rabat, also the seat of
the French Protectorate s administration, Sémach visited the Jewish
communities throughout Morocco, both urban and rural. His fear of what
he saw as the ever-increasing strength of Moroccan Zionism was greatly
exaggerated. Before we delve into his fears in order to present his
position on this issue, we must compare the approach of the Moroccan
Zionists with that of their Tunisian counterparts. Unlike the Tunisian
Zionists, those in Morocco refrained from attacking the AIU from the
mid-1920s on, after having criticized it previously. They now sought to
improve their relations with the AIU. They believed that by collaborating
with it in communal reforms, Zionist goals would be better served in the
long run.
First of all, it was quite apparent to the local Zionists that the AIU in
Morocco wielded considerable influence, more than in Tunisia. It had
strong links with the French Residency in Rabat as well as with the
Jewish communities. Since the Zionist organization in Morocco, unlike
its Tunisian counterpart, did not obtain official recognition from the
French authorities, it was merely tolerated during the interwar years.
Therefore, it seemed prudent to seek a rapprochement with the AIU.
Following this approach, the Moroccan Zionists, like the AIU principals,
supported the idea of granting French citizenship to Moroccan Jews. The
Zionists also did not raise the issue of emigration to Palestine before the
1930s, partly because they went out of their way to appease the Resi
dency and its trustworthy ally, the AIU. They declared themselves loyal
to the cause of assisting Moroccan Jews to become Frenchmen. This, of
course, was a tactic in a long-term strategy to accomplish Zionist aims, if
and when the local Jews came to adopt Zionist goals in increasing num
bers. The tactic was a way out of the Zionists’ political isolation in the
1920s.
Yet the lull in the hostility between the AIU and the Moroccan
Zionists, from the mid-1920s to the early 1930s, was a one-way street.
The AIU delegates in French Morocco simply did not recognize or honor
such a truce before 1930; it seems that during the 1930s the AIU and the
Zionists were in a two-way conflict once again. The Zionists were now
emphasizing Jewish political aims more freely as more and more French-
educated Jews embraced Zionism and understood its ideological implica
tions, and as the French became more tolerant of Zionism.
Looking back at AIU displeasure with Moroccan Zionists from the
mid-1920s to the early 1930s, we see that despite the Zionist search for
an understanding with the AIU, the AIU school principals continued to
be suspicious of Zionist intentions throughout the period. They often
accused the Zionists of using fund-raising activities, the Zionist press,
and speeches delivered by JN F and J F F emissaries from Europe as a
facade for the ultimate goal of laying a basis for emigration to Palestine.
Thus we return to Sémach. In December 1926, he reported to Paris
about the activities of the J F F ’s Dr. Nathan Halpern. Halpern’s functions
included fund-raising and lecture tours in French Morocco. According to
Sémach, Halpern had recently spent three months in Morocco where, in
Casablanca alone, he organized a dozen lectures before large audiences
of young, French-educated Jews, many of them AIU alumni.45
On one occasion, Sémach decided to participate in one of these gath
erings with the clear aim of challenging Halpern in order to expose the
destructive aim of “Zionist agitation’" to the audience. The site was the
Casablanca Jewish community center, the C ercle dU nion. Sémach heard
Halpern compare the policies of two resident-generals of French Mo
rocco, Field-Marshal Lyautey, who had served until 1925, and Théodore
Steeg, his successor. Halpern depicted the first as anti-Zionist and insen
sitive to local Jewish needs, while praising the latter as a political mod
erate. At this point, Sémach intervened. He asserted that both men, like
the French government, had done everything conceivable to afford the
Jews political freedom and improve their socioeconomic conditions. Hav
ing returned from an inspection tour of the Jewish communities of south
ern Morocco, Sémach told the audience and Halpern that even in the
b led of the Atlas mountains, he had come upon zealous French officials
willingly assisting the Jews, seeing them as a trustworthy, pro-French
element. Zionism, he went on, would only prove a poor substitute for
French goodwill, but could lead the French to doubt Moroccan Jewish
loyalty. The Moroccan Jew, Sémach warned the audience, “must evolve,
elevate himself to the French mentality and one day become French.
This is the long-range aim. And to demand of him to be above all a
Zionist, will deter him from his path; political Zionism is a danger and
we will oppose it.”46
Halpern denied that he was encouraging North African Jews to dis
tance themselves from France. He claimed, quite to the contrary, to be
encouraging them to become French, but, simultaneously, to contribute
their moral and financial support to their less fortunate brethren in
Eastern Europe.47 Still, Sémach’s intention was quite clear, as revealed
in his reports from the pre-1930 period: to combat Zionist political influ
ence, otherwise the prestige enjoyed by the AIU in Morocco since 1862
would decline sharply, even among educated AIU alumni. One of the
strategies Sémach thought up in order to counter Zionist propaganda
among the Jews was to disseminate Reinach’s and Berl’s articles in Paix
et D roit.48
It is conceivable that in Tunisia after 1930 and until the outbreak of
World War II, the Zionists, mainly the Revisionist trend, which by then
dwarfed mainstream Zionism in Tunisia, moderated their stance toward
the AIU and may have collaborated with its teachers in the educational
sphere, notably as regards Hebrew studies. In Morocco, on the other
hand, Zionists after 1930 accused the AIU delegation in Rabat of insensi
tivity. In this vein, Abraham Laredo, a leading Zionist, declared at the
1936 Zionist Conference in French Morocco that the AIU ought to be
praised for its social and philanthropic role. Nevertheless, he argued that
it was indifferent to Jewish needs and considered any criticism of its
activities as a sign of ingratitude. Not so, claimed Laredo; the Zionists
and other Jews critical of the AIU should not be viewed as the organiza
tion’s enemies, and they should push for educational reforms in its
schools.49
It appears obvious that the AIU schools and educational personnel
found themselves in a difficult position insofar as the French-educated
elite was concerned. Many of the educated Jews who were challenging
the raison d’être of the AIU were its own graduates, its alumni. Whereas
the majority of the Jews in both French Protectorates supported the
AIU, whether passively or enthusiastically, the elite was vocal and far
from constituting a monolithic pro-AIU voice. In fact, opposition to the
AIU in Tunisia neither came exclusively from Zionists nor did it originate
with them. We find the La Ju stice newspaper representing the opposite
trend, that of assimilationism and ultra-Jewish secularists. Like the Zion
ists, the La Ju stice group portrayed the AIU as an anachronism, but they
considered its schools’ curriculum of dual Jewish/French programming as

a violation of the principles of secular education. In other words: the AIU
was cornered by those who believed it was not Jewish enough as well as
by those who regarded its schools and educational doctrine as too Jewish,
no longer meeting the needs of the times. The impact of the secularist
opposition to the AIU in Tunisia was blunter and more aggressive than
in Morocco, where ultrasecularists were still a relatively marginal group
in the 1920s and early 1930s.
Eventually, the AIU moved closer to the ideas of the Zionists than to
those of the ultrasecularists. Though never embracing Zionism as a guid
ing ideology, the AIU in the post-W orld War II epoch, in the wake of
the Holocaust, introduced educational and pedagogical reforms in its
Moroccan and Tunisian schools which contributed, albeit modestly, to
preparing the youths for emigration and integration into Israeli society.
Did the fact that Zionism in pre-1939 Algeria was marginal at best
signify that conflicts did not loom between AIU representatives there
and the Zionists? Actually, both the AIU and the Zionists hardly repre
sented major communal interests in French Algeria. Nevertheless, cer
tain problems did exist. The Zionists of Algiers did make certain criti
cisms of the AIU, according to reports submitted by Albert Confino, the
AIU representative. For instance, Confino reported on 17 November
1922 that the Zionists were attacking the Jewish educational program of
the AIU. He compared the friction in Algiers with that between Zionists
and the AIU in Tunisia, reaching the conclusion that “The Alliance has
also its detractors [here]; it would be puerile to deny it. Because Zionism
emerged in Algiers not through the gate as in Tunis, but through the
back porch, it aims at exercising its influence [by attacking the AIU] and
capitalizing [on this strategy]. Its action [here] is not less dangerous [than
elsewhere].”50
Like Sémach in Morocco and Saguès in Tunisia, Confino took steps to
confront the Zionists and explain the aims of the AIU at various com
munal forums, in order to safeguard the influence of the AIU. Once
again, although it seems that the conflicts in Algeria were milder than
those in Morocco and certainly a far cry from the struggle in Tunisia, the
Zionists of the three North African countries did not attack the AIU on
ideological and Jewish educational matters alone. The Algerian Zionists
attacked the AIU as such because of their exaggerated presumption of its
influence among Algerian Jewry. Despite the AIU’s limited position in
Algeria and its efforts to emphasize Jewish religious education there, the
Algerian Zionists saw the AIU activists and their educational as well as
extra-educational endeavors as an obstacle to the Zionists’ quest for
influence in the Jewish milieu.
These internal communal conflicts of the interwar years which had
occurred in the shadow of rising anti-Semitism in Europe and among
both North African European settlers as well as Muslim nationalists,
doubtless evoked concern among the politically informed Maghribi Jews.
However, few, if any, of them expected modern anti-Semitism to influ
ence their lives directly quite the same way as it did their European
counterparts. The outbreak of World War II, as the next chapter dem
onstrates, was to change this outlook.
Chapter 2
Under Vichy and the Nazi-German

Menace: The Jews of North Africa
during the 1930s and 1940s
In June 1940, the Germans conquered France. They occupied most of

the country and left the “unoccupied zone” to be administered by Field-
Marshal Philippe Pétain at Vichy; the Vichy regime retained France’s
overseas possessions. On 3 October 1940, the Vichy government enacted
its first anti-Jewish law. At the end of March 1941, a special commission
headed by Xavier Vallat, was created to deal with Jewish affairs. These
developments seriously affected the situation of the Jews in French
Algeria, Morocco, and Tunisia.1
O f the three important North African Jewish communities, the Alge
rian had the most to lose, in political status at least. The Vichy anti-
Jewish legislation would deprive the Algerian communities of their rights.
In Tunisia, too, the Jewish communities had been granted certain
rights, some of which were removed during Vichy rule (1940-43). Tu
nisian Jews continued to obtain French citizenship by virtue of the
Morinaud Law, though the majority remained subjects of the Husaynid
Beylicate. This left them in a position inferior to that of the Algerian Jews
(who were automatically French citizens), but in a more advantageous
situation than their Moroccan coreligionists.
As late as 1939-40, the French Moroccan Protectorate did not intend
to reverse the basic legal system of the country which was based on the
Quran and its interpretation as well as the will of the Sharifian sultan.
The French continued to adjust their political interest to the laws and
55
56 Under Vichy and the Nazi-German Menace
customs adhered to by the Islamic courts. Of the four social strata in

Morocco— the French, the citizens of foreign countries, the Muslims,
and the Jews— the Jews were at the bottom of the political scale. They
enjoyed one important benefit: personal status, such as birth registration,
divorce, and inheritance, was regulated by Jewish law and adjudicated
by rabbinic tribunals. However, except for such personal matters, the
great mass of civil and criminal litigation involving Moroccan Jews contin
ued to be in Islamic tribunals presided over by officials appointed by the
sultan: these were the Sharifian courts or the C hrâa. Despite the fact
that French domination had done less for Moroccan Jews than for other
North African Jewish communities, the Moroccan Jews' position, too,
was impaired by the Vichy regime.
Anti-Jewish attitudes had been evident in North Africa for many years
before the establishment of the Vichy regime. In the latter half of the
nineteenth century in Algeria, the European population protested vio
lently against the rights which France granted the Jews, and was espe
cially vocal during the Dreyfus Affair. During the first decade of the
twentieth century, these hostilities subsided somewhat, only to resurface
in the early 1930s. There was one difference between nineteenth-century
anti-Semitism and the agitation of the 1930s. Whereas earlier European
anti-Semitism had enlisted support from fellow Europeans, during the
1930s they sought to enlist Muslim support.
M u slim -Jew ish R e la tio n s in th e P r e w a r Y e a r s ,

1 9 3 3 -1 9 3 9
French and other anti-Semitic elements seized upon the Palestine prob
lem and the Arab Revolt of 1936-39 to portray international Jewry,
including the Jews of North Africa, in a negative way to the Muslims,
many of whom expressed solidarity with the Palestinian Arabs against
Zionism and the British authorities in the Mandate. Nazi propaganda
broadcasts from Berlin and Stuttgart, as well as broadcasts from fascist
Italy, added fuel to the ongoing anti-Jewish campaign.2
One success in the attempt to incite Muslims against Jews took place
in Algeria. In the city of Constantine, Muslims organized a pogrom
against Jews on 3 - 5 August 1934. Although we still do not have all
information on the causes of this event, it appears that the anti-Semitic
Under Vichy and the Nazi-German Menace 57
campaign in Algeria, inspired by European Algerians, contributed to the

hostility between Muslims and Jews in the Constantine region. In this
pogrom, twenty-three Jews as well as three Muslims were killed. Eighty-
one persons were wounded.3
Unrest came to the surface in Tunisia, too, where anti-Jewish riots
took place in Sfax in 1932. While it has been alleged that Palestinian
Arabs instigated local Muslims against Jews,4 we were unable to confirm
this claim. More serious Muslim-Jewish tensions arose in French Mo
rocco (Casablanca, Rabat), in Spanish Morocco (Tétuan), and in Tangier
during the spring and early summer of 1933. Though other motives
should not be ruled out in the Moroccan case, the editor of the usually
reliable Survey o f International A ffairs concluded that these incidents
emerged from militant anti-Semitism encouraged by European ele
ments.5
It is noteworthy that European anti-Semitic activity in French North
Africa gained support mainly among the European population and through
the efforts of the Parti Social Français (PSF) and the Parti Populaire
Français (PPF). In the final analysis, their propaganda endeavors, aug
mented by the local European press and the Italian-German broadcasts,
did not much influence the Muslim population as a whole. Despite the
above-mentioned events, the Muslim majority continued to coexist with
their Jewish neighbors. The numerous incidents of Muslims intimidating
Jews or assaulting them physically were an integral part of North African
life. The French archives on North Africa, available at Nantes, point to
this phenomenon. However, major pogroms on the scale of the event in
Constantine did not take place.
Whereas the European anti-Jewish propaganda did not gain support
among the Muslim masses, it did influence segments of the embryonic
North African nationalist movements. The Algerian nationalist supporters
of Messali Hadj’s Etoile Nord-Africaine and the Parti du Peuple Algér
ien, in both Algeria and France, organized activities that included the
publication of the newspapers E l Ouma and E ch C h a a b , which were
occasionally partially financed by the Pan-Islamic activist 5Amir Shaklb
Arslan. At the war's outbreak, Messali’s supporters split into two factions:
one supported Germany, seeking to secure her aid in the struggle for
independence; the other, more moderate, considered supporting the
France of the pre-Vichy era.
What was the position of Algerian nationalists regarding the Jews?
Messali and most of his supporters argued that the Jews weakened
France internally and contributed to her political and moral corruption.
On the other hand, they contradicted themselves by saying that French
Algeria was dominated by the Jews who ruled the country in the name of
France. The Crémieux Decree of 1870, in Messali’s opinion, had trans
formed the Jews into an overprivileged element hostile to the Arabo-
Berber population. Messali’s Parti du Peuple Algérien, operating under
ground after 1939, included activists who later supported the Pétain
government in part because of its anti-Jewish policy.6
In Tunisia, the nationalists were not quite so extreme. True, the Vieux
Destour and the orthodox Islamic Zeituna circles held anti-Jewish atti
tudes, but their hostility was most often passive. However, the secularly
oriented Neo-Destour movement which gradually became the most pop
ular political force in the country, demonstrated greater understanding
toward the Jew s.7
As in the rest of North Africa, the Moroccan nationalist movement was
divided into moderates and radicals. Generally speaking, Spanish Zone
nationalists enjoyed greater freedom to express political views than their
counterparts in French Morocco, particularly after 1937 when French
Morocco's nationalist leaders suffered a strong wave of repression. The
most moderate nationalists of French Morocco, among them Muhammad
al-Kholtl, encouraged a Judeo-Muslim entente in order to enlist Jewish
support for the reforms they meant to request from the French. Al-
Kholtl advocated “une action commune en vue de réformes urgentes à
introduire par la France dans le domaine de la justice, comme dans tous
les autres domaines” (joint action to encourage France to introduce
urgent reforms in the field of justice, as in all other fields). But he added
that Judeo-Muslim solidarity “ne pourrait être durable que si une égalité
complète englobait israélites et musulmans” (could not last without com
plete equality between Jews and Muslims).8
W ere these views promoted following Muslim-Jewish tensions be
tween April and July 1933 aimed at reducing hostilities, especially in
view of the large urban Jewish population concentrations? Was this a
plea to French-educated Jews to support nationalist reformist claims? Or,
did the early nationalists genuinely seek a friendly entente? We have not
been able to reach definite conclusions, although it is noteworthy that al-
Kholtl represented the French-educated stratum in the movement. Those
more traditionally educated— at the Qarawîyïne University in F ez—

were less moderate in their approach toward the Jews.
As in Algeria and Tunisia, Moroccan Jewry— including educated Jews
who graduated from the AIU 9— did not reveal any enthusiasm for Arab
nationalist causes and, in the Spanish Zone, they were profoundly dis
turbed by anti-Jewish declarations made by local nationalists. This is how
an AIU school principal in Larache described the attitude of Spanish
Zone nationalists in the wake of the Arab Revolt in Palestine, on the eve
of World War II:
What appears serious to us is the anti-Jewish manifestations in Arab circles: there

are several days now, that the secretary of the Grand Mufti of Jerusalem [Haj
Amin al-Husaynl] is in town to propagandize in Spanish Morocco in order to raise
funds destined for the Arabs of Palestine. The key nationalist in Morocco cAbd al-
Khalîq Torrès has spoken vehemently at conferences organized in El-Ksar, Lar
ache, Tetuan and Arcila against the Jews as well as against the British. Cries of
“Death to the Jews!” “Death to the British” have been promoted by Arab
propaganda.10
Another threat facing the Jews of Morocco during the period immedi
ately preceding the war was tied to the Civil War in Spain and its impact
on Spanish Morocco. The Spanish Zone was under martial law beginning
on 19 July 1936. The Jews were not harassed by the Zone s military
authorities throughout the crisis, but they were pressured to donate
funds and other forms of wealth in support of Franco, as were the local
Spaniards. Albert Saguès, then AIU principal in Tangier and a keen
observer of political developments in northern Morocco, clearly indi
cated that the Spanish authorities went out of their way to maintain
cordial contacts with the Jewish communities. This, however, was not
the case with various political movements and their adherents who ag
gressively pressured the Jews to adopt political positions. According to
Saguès:
Indeed it seems that the responsible authorities are applying a fair approach
toward our coreligionists, but things are not so on the part of organizations with
fascist tendencies, which recruit their members among the Spanish youths. . . .
These organizations are more active in small settlements like Arcila or Chaouen
than in the big centers. I know that Jewish youths fell victims to these organiza
tions in Larache. . . . In any case, the military authorities intervened in many
cases in order to restrain excessive outbursts of enthusiasm. Our coreligionists

suffer, in that case, loss of their property: merchandise, foreign currency, jewelry
— it is all stolen by the military government; the Spanish civil war will totally
impoverish them; however, there is in all this some consolation in the knowledge
that until now they haven't suffered loss of life.11
Some of this politically motivated harassment— whether perpetrated

by the authorities or by pro-fascist movements— seems to have influ
enced the Jews of Larache to the extent that they expressed profound
anxiety about a rumor that the Tangier Jewish community council had
made a declaration against Franco. The Larache Jews were relieved
when assured by Tangier's Jewish leaders of their neutrality in regard to
the Spanish Civil W ar.12
M o r o c c o u n d e r V ich y In flu e n c e
During the months which preceded the German occupation of France,

Moroccan Jews, like their coreligionists in Tunisia and Algeria, expressed
solidarity with France. They donated funds to a special war chest, dona
tions which often reached 50,000 francs per donor— considerable sums
for those days.13 When France recruited volunteers (during the period
1939-40), hundreds of Jews signed up. In order to facilitate their regis
tration, Jewish recruitment centers were set up in Rabat and Casablanca.
After several days' efforts, a list containing 1,300 names was presented to
the French Protectorate administration. A. Cohen, an AIU school prin
cipal in Safi, described the pro-French sentiments of the Jews during the
early months of the war. However, the Jews soon realized that France
did not want their support: “The regulations in force or considerations
which are ignored by the public, have not, heretofore, enabled [us] to
present a favorable response to our ardent volunteers. And they wait.
Several of them on the verge of impatience, have attempted to join the
Foreign Legion. "14
The Protectorate administration politely expressed gratitude to the
Jewish volunteers but rejected them, ostensibly to avoid alienating the
Muslims or anti-Semites among the European population. Despite their
warm loyalty to France, these young Jews were told they had to wait
indefinitely until they would be needed. But it was in the summer of
1940, with the rise of Vichy, that anti-Semitism became official policy in
France and her possessions. Beginning in the second half of 1940, anti-
Jewish laws were promulgated which inevitably stirred anxiety among
North African Jews. Article 9 of the Law of 3 October 1940, concerning
the status of the Jews, provided that the Law should be introduced in
Morocco, Algeria, and Tunisia and in France s other colonies, protecto
rates, and mandated territories. The Law was introduced into Morocco
through the zah lr of 31 October 1940. It applied to all Jews by “race,”
which was defined as three Jewish grandparents, as well as all members
of the Jewish faith. Despite its discriminatory passages, the Law ex
pressly authorized the exercise of rabbinic jurisdiction, the practice of
calling in Hebrew court interpreters, and allowed Jews to continue teach
ing at institutions intended solely for Jews. Its provisions were not to
prejudice Jewish institutions, that is, communities.15
The Vichy Law of 2 June 1941 increased the hardships inflicted by the
Law of 3 October 1940 in many respects. It was followed by the zahtrs of
5 August 1941, introducing it into Morocco. These decrees (issued sepa
rately for Moroccan Jews and for European Jews living in the French
Zone) enlarged the list of occupations prohibited to Jews, including
moneylending in any form and the real estate business. They did, how
ever, permit handicrafts and wholesale trading. A penalty was prescribed
for violations of the zah lr regarding personal status. All Jews were re
quired to appear for registration of their persons and occupations, and for
declarations of their property. The Vichy Law of 22 July 1941, concerning
the “Aryanization” of the French economy, was not introduced in Mo
rocco.
According to Article 4 of the 5 August 1941 z ah lr, the following
professions were prohibited to Moroccan Jews:
Banker, money-changer, peddler, broker of an agency for stocks or loans; invest

ments in businesses and in distributing merchandise; agent; lessee of woodlands;
sports commissioner; editor, director, administrator, journalist with the press or
a periodical (except for scientific or religious periodicals); concessionaire; theatri
cal director; movie producer or director of an agency for movie distribution;
director or administrator of movie theaters; impresario for entertainment presen
tations; director or administrator in broadcasting enterprises.16
We do not yet possess adequate data to fully assess the impact of these
restrictions. Which of the zah lrs— and the regulations for their imple
mentation— were adhered to partially, and which fully, by the resident-
Table 1. Jews Removed from Administrative

Duties in Fez and Oudjda, 1941
E m ploym ent F ez O udjda
Population Registration 1 —
Tax Bureau — 1
Public Works 1 —
Civil Inspection 2 —
Urban Services 2 —
Hospitals 5 3
Military Administration 2 8
Teaching 3 7
Electric Company 2 2
Posts & Telegraph 7 10
Railroad 3 3
Bus Transportation 6 1
Courts 4 2
Banks _4 _2
T otal 42 39
Source: M .Y., R .S., R.B. (Raphael Benazeraf), Rapport confidentiel:
L’application du statut des juifs et des dispositions raciales à la popula
tion juive du Maroc (Fonds Institut Ben-Zvi), 14.
general, General Charles Noguès? It appears that, in addition to the

aforementioned restrictions outlined in Article 4 of the edict of 5 August
1941, there were certain restrictions which were harshly implemented in
the cities but not enforced for the Jewish communities of the rural
countryside. We also cannot always ascertain to what extent decrees, and
the regulations for implementing them, were enforced in all urban com
munities. On the basis of available data, there is no doubt that the
restrictions were at least partially implemented. We see this from the
data in table 1 about the removal of Jews from administrative employ
ment in Fez and Oudjda.
The regulations for putting the decrees into effect contained detailed
provisions limiting the number of Jewish lawyers and physicians to 2
percent of the total of these professions and providing compensation for
officials dismissed under the zahlrs.
Most of the lawyers affected by these measures were probably non-
Moroccan European Jews. As for physicians, their status requires further
investigation. The new Law for Morocco (1941) severely limited the
number of Jews allowed to practice medicine. Jewish physicians were
not even permitted to care for Jewish patients. However, they were
authorized to do so by the Protectorate administration in Tunisia. On the
other hand, new findings in the archives of the Quai d'Orsay seem to
suggest that a region by region survey of the application of the restric
tions would be necessary. Since the number of non-Jewish physicians
was limited during the war and since Jews, mainly among the European
emigrants, were relatively well represented in that profession, Jewish
physicians were often indispensable. In Casablanca, for example, 17
percent of the physicians were Jews. Removing them from the practice
of medicine would have endangered health services for the general pop
ulation. Therefore, apparently, the restrictions were not implemented in
Casablanca.17
Another restriction, dated 22 August 1941, prohibited Jewish subjects
of the sultan from residing outside the m ellàhs, and especially from living
in the European residential quarters constructed by the French for
European settlers and also inhabited by the more affluent Muslims and
Jews. Only specific categories of Jews, essentially war veterans, were
permitted to stay outside the m ellàhs. Moreover, if unable to prove that
their residence in the European residential districts predated 1 Septem
ber 1939, these Jews too were compelled to return to the m eïlàh by 22
September 1941. Article 4 of the regulation indicated that a new ordi
nance would be published, calling for the evacuation of Jews who had
lived in the European districts prior to 1 September 1939. Those who
resisted the new law were to be expelled and required to pay a fine of
between 500 and 10,000 francs. Once again, while we do not have
accurate records as to what extent this policy was implemented, several
hundred Jewish families in the urban centers left or were expelled. The
return of well-to-do Jews back to the m ellàh caused further overcrowding
and hastened the spread of typhoid.18
In a country where Jews had long suffered from a higher rate of
illiteracy than the Jewish communities of Algeria and Tunisia, they were
now further restricted. The number of Jews in the Protectorate s elemen
tary and secondary schools was limited to 10 percent of the number of
non-Jews, and in institutions of higher learning to 3 percent. There is
clear evidence that a quota (num erus clausus) in education was enforced
at least to some extent. While the communal religious schools continued
to function, the heaviest responsibility for providing secular education to
Jewish children throughout Morocco fell on the AIU institutions. Whereas
French Protectorate-sponsored schools had opened their doors to out

standing Muslim and Jewish students and to the privileged indigenous
socioeconomic stratum, the majority of the Jews had obtained a modem
education within the AIU framework. In 1940-41, 15,000 Jewish youths
attended the AIU schools, but only a bit over 1,000 studied at the
Protectorate schools. This already small number was reduced as a result
of the new measure, particularly in Casablanca, Rabat, Meknès, and Fez;
Jewish teachers employed by the Protectorate also suffered.19
What was Vichy’s policy vis-à-vis the AIU? There is no doubt that this
school system continued to function under Vichy. The AIU schools had
been receiving financial assistance from France on a regular basis since
1928. On the eve of World War II, the French were subsidizing 80
percent of the schools’ maintenance costs, either with their own funds or
using m akhzan monies. Without this support, the AIU system could not
have survived. The support continued into the Vichy era. We cannot
clearly identify the motives as to why the Vichyites maintained the AIU
in Morocco, though one can make some inferences.
Resident-general Noguès probably believed that it would be prefera
ble to stabilize the educational system of French Morocco and not to
curtail the work of the AIU, a move that would send Jewish youths into
the streets. After all, the anti-Jewish legislation limited their educational
opportunities to begin with.20 Roger Thabault (until 1941 inspector-
general of European primary education for the Protectorate) related
years later that Noguès had enabled him to travel to Vichy and request
that the authorities publish an edict legitimizing the continuation of the
AIU’s subsidy. Thabault claims to have come to the AIU’s rescue, be
cause he suspected that certain high officials at the Residency were
determined to either neutralize the schools of this network or, at the
very least, restrict the scope of their activity.21
Whereas Vichy and its senior officials in North Africa were reactionar
ies and old-style anti-Semites, they were not as vicious as the Nazis.
Vichy may have appreciated the pro-French role of the AIU and felt that
it would be better to let its schools survive. In fact, Admiral François
Darlan was concerned about the possible disappearance of the AIU
schools when he wrote to Xavier Vallat, urging him to prevent the
collapse of “un important réseau d’expansion de la langue française” (an
important network for the dissemination of the French language).22 It
seems that in the final analysis, and despite opposition to the AIU
Table 2. Monthly Rationing of Foodstuffs and Essential Products in

Morocco, Late 1942
P roduct E u rop ean s Muslims Jew s
Sugar (in grams) 500 700 3 5 0 -4 5 0
Cooking Oil
(in Centiliters) 250 330 230
Coffee (in grams) 200 — 50
Green Tea (in grams) — 40 —
Hand Saop 200 70 70
Wine (liters) 10 — 21/2
Kerosene (liters) 3 — —
Meat (in grams) 2 0 0 -2 5 0 — —
Source: La situation des juifs en zne français de l-empire chérifien , fin 1943, CZA, Z4/10.266.
emanating from Vallat s men, Darlan and his colleagues may well have
shared the opinion of their adversary General Charles de Gaulle concern
ing the cultural significance of the AIU in North Africa.23
As for other restrictions and hardships, both Muslims and Jews were
disadvantaged in the distribution of rationed foods and most other essen
tial consumer products. Available data presented in table 2 give an
accurate indication of monthly rations during the final months of 1942.
Among other examples: Jews were entitled to a 2 lÆ liter wine ration
whereas the Europeans got ten liters. Jews consumed large quantities of
wine in religious observances and needed more wine than others. Since
sugar was consumed more heavily by Muslims and green tea only by
Muslims, Jews and Europeans were not disadvantaged in these catego
ries. However, whereas the Europeans were provided with three liters
of kerosene, Muslims and Jews had to buy it on the free market at
exaggerated prices, the same holding true for meat.
In French Morocco, a final aspect of persecution was detention and
labor camps. These camps held Jewish inmates, among others. A Vichy
Law of 4 October 1940 had provided for dentention of “foreign nationals
of the Jewish race” in special concentration camps. This Law was not
introduced in Morocco, because a zah lr had already been promulgated
on 2 January 1940. It provided for detentions in designated places of
persons endangering national defense or public security, or unable to
emigrate after having received expulsion orders, or in the country ille
gally. The detainees could be forced to perform labor of use to the
community and for that purpose to be organized in special units. This
zah lr was directed against communists, anti-French elements among the

Muslims, and foreigners, especially foreign Jews seeking refuge in Mo
rocco. Twelve detention and labor camps with a partly Jewish population
were set up in Morocco during the war. There are reports and testimon
ies of harsh conditions prevailing in the camps. It seems, however, that
the plight of the detainees was generally less severe in Morocco than in
Algeria and Tunisia.24 These camps were not intended for Moroccan Jews
but only for European Jews. (On the Jewish population of French Mo
rocco in the early 1940s, see table 3.)
In the Spanish Zone, no drastic changes occurred that endangered the
Jews following Franco s rise to power. Not a single discriminatory law
was issued against them. Even their food rations were identical to those
of the Spanish and foreign population, contrary to the situation in the
French Zone.25 On the other hand, Spanish radio and press engaged in
anti-Semitic propaganda during 1 9 4 0 -4 1 .26 Following the outbreak of the
war, Richter, the German consul in Tétuan, sought to pressure the
Spanish authorities to adopt anti-Jewish measures in the city. He also
attempted to incite the Muslims against the Jews. These efforts failed.
Ashash Pasha, the governor, and other m akhzan officials assisted the
Jews and foiled any effort by Muslims and Germans to harm them.27
Economically, diverse socioeconomic strata in the Jewish community
of Tétuan suffered from poverty, but the conditions of Jewish artisans
there and in other parts of the Zone were relatively better than those of
their coreligionists in French Morocco. According to French Protectorate
sources analyzing the position of the Jews in Tétuan:
Much of the trade in Tétuan is monopolized by the Jews. Even those Jews not
living in the city are, for the most part, merchants. The Arab merchants of
Tétuan s Muslim quarter are deeply involved in black marketeering to the point
where their reputation has been dreadfully disgraced while the reputation of the
Jewish merchants is far better. They operate more prudently.28
In areas as El-Ksar and Larache, the Spanish authorities prevented

attacks against Jews, perhaps, as French sources claim, because Jewish
communal leaders bribed Spanish security officials and m akhzan digni
taries. When news reached El-Ksar and Larache that the Allies had
achieved significant military victories over the Axis powers, affluent Jew
ish notables feared that Spanish soldiers and officers loyal to Germany
Table 3. The Jewish Population of

French Morocco in Accordance with a
French Protectorate Census of
1 January 1943*
A. Jews According to Region (Atlas Mountains
Included)
Casablanca 68,336
Fez 21,260
Marrakesh 52,439
Meknès 20,237
Oudjda 9,807
Rabat 17,255
Agadir 5,220
Total: 194,554
B, Jews According to Cities
Casablanca 55,817
Fedala 297
Oudjda 5,804
Azemmour 420
Sefrou 5,460
Mazagan 3,750
Settat 1,720
Rabat 10,257
Taza 320
Salé 3,181
Port Lyautey 1,028
Ouezzan 2,102
Marrakesh 17,043
Safi 4,076
Essaouira 5,702
Agadir 850
Meknès 12,000
Fez 13,352
Source: AAE-Nantes, D I/809.
♦According to the census, out of 194,554 Jews in French
Morocco, 178,500 were Moroccan subjects, 12,000 were
French nationals, and 4 ,0 0 0 were foreigners (420 English
men, 315 Russians, 76 Germans and Austrians, while the
rest were stateless).
might harass the Jews. The latter were accused by anti-Semitic elements
in the Spanish Zone of manifesting pro-British and pro-American sympa
thies. But no major problems surfaced, either due to the bribes offered
to officials or in line with official policy to protect the Jews. In fact, efforts
by extremist Moroccan nationalists to attack the m ellâh of El-Ksar were
prevented by the Spanish and Muslim authorities.29
Tangier as an international zone posed special problems, some of them
involving Jewish refugees. During 1942-43, there were between 1,500
and 2,000 Jewish refugees in Tangier, many of whom had arrived during
the prewar era. Approximately half were Sephardim; the remainder,
Central Europeans. The Sephardim originated from the Dodecanese
Islands (then under Italy); some had left Rhodes for Italy and France
even before Italy introduced anti-Jewish laws in 1938. Most of these
families had three or more children. The men were craftsmen, shoe
makers, drivers, or small businessmen. They spoke Italian, Spanish,
Turkish, and French. The Central Europeans had come mainly from
Hungary and Poland via Italy, where a number of them lived for two
years before the enactment of the 1938 anti-Jewish laws. As long as
Tangier remained an international zone, refugees were admitted without
difficulty. Nor were there any regulations to prevent them from earning
their living. After the fall of France and Spain s occupation of Tangier in
June 1940, these people were deprived of the right to work. Their
standard of living fell rapidly from that time on. The intervention of the
World Jewish Congress, the American Jewish Joint Distribution Com
mittee (AJDC), and the AIU helped relieve some of their misery; after
April 1944, AJDC spent $12,000 monthly on behalf of these refugees—
funds that were allocated through a local relief committee. This sum was
separate from funds earmarked for school meals at the AIU.30 (See table
4 on the Jewish/non-Jewish populace.)
During the 1939-40 period, the Jewish population of Tangier reached
12,000, refugees included. Most of the Jews were craftsmen, bank clerks
and bank officials, as well as merchants and agents of trading companies.
Despite various restrictions and the Spanish occupation (until 1945),
their political and economic conditions were better than those in French
Morocco under Vichy. The Jews continued to engage in certain lucrative
trades. Whereas Jews in French Morocco were now discriminated against
in the textile trades, Tangier Jewry was still represented in that sector.
Blandin, who conducted a thorough investigation of the situation in
Sultan (Later King) Muhammad V (1909-1961) (author’s personal collection).

Table 4. The Population of Tangier, 1940-1941

Perm anently S ettled Population R efugees
Muslims 37,000 Central Europe 2,000

Jews 12-1 3 ,0 0 0 Gibraltar 1,000
Spaniards 14,000 France 250
Frenchmen 2,500 Portuguese
Italians 1,150 Fisherman 250
English 800 Total 3,500
Portuguese 350
Others 300
Total 6 8 ,1 0 0 -6 9 ,1 0 0
O verall T otal 71,6 0 0 -7 2 ,6 0 0

Source: Blandin, “ La population de Tanger en 1940,” Revue Africaine, 88 (1944), 1 1 4 -1 1 5 .
Tangier during the war, observed rather optimistically that the Jewish
elite, whose members had ties with the new Spanish administration,
enjoyed a stable economic situation. In fact, he added:
The Jew controls the exports to England and the United States of America of
leather goods, eggs, skins and the imports of all the indispensable manufactured
products to Tangier and from the Spanish Protectorate: textiles, automobiles,
furniture, flour, spices— wholesale and retail. . . . But it is largely in banking
that the Tangier Jew specializes and [where he makes the greatest] profit.31
It is possible that this was true insofar as the elite was concerned. It
was certainly not the case for the lower middle class. Their position
under the new administration was precarious. Their businesses were
heavily taxed and new licenses were often refused by the authorities.32
Politically, the Jews faced certain anxieties under the Spanish occupa
tion. The Spaniards dissolved the Legislative Assembly, encouraged the
departure of the last vestige of Sharifian authority in Tangier, the man-
du b (the Sultan’s representative in the International Zone), and enacted
legislation for administrative reform. The zah lr of 15 February 1925,
which had legalized the Jewish community’s council, was abrogated. All
communal activity came under Spanish supervision.33 The Jewish com
munity lost the subsidies previously allocated, as well as the right to
elect its communal leaders who would now be directly appointed by
Spain from a list submitted by the community. The autonomous rabbinic
tribunal and its constitutions were also dissolved.34 Interestingly, similar

measures were not adopted in the French Zone where the authorities
preferred not to upset the Jewish organizational structure.
Nevertheless, the situation in Tangier remained relatively secure de
spite the fact that the Jews were victims of Nazi propaganda promoted
by German merchants (who pretended before 1940 to be Swiss and
Dutch nationals and afterward carried out open political action). Politi
cally speaking, the Jews of Tangier enjoyed the highest level of freedom
attainable under an authoritarian regime. They were free of racial and
legal discrimination.35
Returning to the situation in French Morocco, even after the Ameri
can landing on 8 November 1942, the position of the Jews remained
precarious. The Americans did not interfere in French internal affairs
and Vichy sympathizers still dominated the administration. On 9 January
1943, M. Poussier, the head of the civil administration in the Casablanca
district, summoned the local Jewish notables and warned them that the
Jews would be held responsible if the demonstrations of General de
Gaulle’s National Front and the Veterans’ Union, scheduled for the next
day, did in fact take place.36 This was only one of a number of oppressive
acts, which were all the more distressing as they occurred after the Allied
landing. There were also attacks on Jews in the m elldh of Casablanca,
anti-Jewish riots in Rabat and Salé, discriminatory measures in Meknès
and Fez, and harassment of Jews at Beni-Mellal. One official source close
to the Residency’s D irection d e l'Intérieur described Jewish enthusiasm
at the Vichyites’ defeat, not without some exaggeration, as containing
anti-French and pro-American tendencies:
The Jews are assembled on the terraces of the m ellàhs of Casablanca and Rabat
to follow the events. There are those who curse the French, even those wounded.
. . . Jewish enthusiasm increases as the Americans advance. . . . Several days
later the Jews join demonstrators from whose ranks emanate the cry “Down with
France!” European women had their faces slapped by Jewish women. In Rabat,
a Jew spits in the face of a decorated Muslim m okhazni [policeman]. . . . In
Casablanca, Jews caught the Secretary of the m akhzan s Grand Vizier and forced
him to cry out “Long live America, Down with France!” This provoking behavior
could lead to serious confrontations between the Muslim masses and the Jews.37
At Beni-Mellal, the local Muslim governor and the French civil con
troller (who was known for his hostility to the Jews) announced that any
European desiring to settle in town could choose a home from the houses
or apartments occupied by Jewish tenants. Once a residence was chosen,
the family would have to evacuate within forty-eight hours. Several
Jewish families were forced out of their homes during the difficult winter
of 1942-43. They found temporary refuge in local synagogues and com
munity centers.
The Jews’ situation began to gradually improve only after 3 June 1943.
On that date, General de Gaulle and General Henri Giraud, in charge of
those French territories in North Africa not under German occupation,
reached an agreement for the creation of a French Committee of National
Liberation. The agreement also marked the end of Vichy influence in
Morocco. On the following day, General Noguès fled to Portugal.
T u n is ia — T h e D u a l C h a lle n g e : V ich y In flu e n c e

a n d G e r m a n O c c u p a tio n
The Law of 3 October 1940 was extended to Tunisia through the edict of
30 November 1940, just as it had been applied to Morocco. It contained
twelve articles outlining the measures in the name of the bey and signed
by the resident-general, Admiral Esteva. The edict restricted Jewish
representation in the public service (Articles 3 and 9), and in educational
institutions and journalism (Article 7). Article 5 stipulated that certain
public functions would be open to Jews provided they could prove the
following: that they had been decorated by France for military service
during World War I; had received Vo rd re du jo u r (army service medal)
in the 1939-40 War; had received the M édaille m ilitaire; were descen
dants of soldiers who had died for France between 1914-18; or were
widows of men who had died in war and had received a pension from the
French government.38
On 9 October 1941, measures were adopted regarding lawyers of the
Jewish faith (avocats défenseurs). Article 3 stipulated that a date would
be announced after which lawyers who were blacklisted would be prohib
ited from providing services.39 Measures were also taken against Jewish
physicians. According to Article 16 of the 6 November 1941 decree,
however, they were still authorized to provide medical care to the Jewish
population and their credentials were supposed to indicate this.40
Some of the measures remained purely theoretical. They were either
not applied at all or were implemented very slowly and partially. The
Germans, who occupied Tunisia in November 1942, attributed this to
the liberal policies of Admiral Esteva. By the summer of 1941, Moroccan
and Algerian Jewry had begun to feel the effect of the anti-Jewish mea
sures, but Esteva’s Tunisia was considerably less oppressive. As Nahum
Yerushalmi, a Hebrew educator from Palestine active in the Jewish
community of Tunis, observed in June 1941:
Tunisian Jewry was not much harmed by the war. Only a few rich men and
members of the liberal professions, who were harmed by the new French legis
lation, were lowered in their situation. On the other hand, religious and Zionist
enthusiasm increased and contributions for the community and its institutions,
especially for Hebrew education, were given generously.41
The situation, however, worsened drastically following the American

landing in North Africa in November 1942, which soon precipitated the
invasion of Tunisia by the Germans and Italians. Control of Jewish affairs
now passed to the German-Italian K om m andatura, headed by a German
general. Still, because of their Italian partners, the Germans were unable
to vent their hatred upon the Jews in the same manner as in occupied
Europe. Difficulties of communication with Europe and a certain slack
ening of discipline also made it harder for the K om m andatura to display
the same brutality as the Nazis did in Europe.42 But conditions for the
Jews did deteriorate.
Harassment began with the arrest of notables, including the president
of the Jewish community of Tunis, Moïse Borgel. The notables were
released a week later after a forceful protest by Esteva whose administra
tion continued alongside the Germans', albeit with considerably reduced
authority. On 6 Decem ber 1942, Borgel and the chief rabbi of Tunis,
Hayyim Belaiche, were summoned to German headquarters. They were
told that in view of the prevailing shortage of manpower, General von
Nehring, in charge of Axis forces in North Africa, had ordered the
drafting of Jewish laborers. The Germans formed a labor recruitment
commission (Le Comité de Recrutement de la Main d’Œuvre) with func
tions strikingly similar to those of the Ju d en ra t in occupied Europe. Paul
Ghez, a leading member of the Jewish community, was appointed chair
man of the commission.
To ensure the implementation of German instructions, several dozen
Jewish notables were detained as hostages. Some of them, accused of

supporting General de Gaulle or socialist and communist causes, were
sent to concentration camps in Germany, from which they did not re
turn. The commission and similar bodies managed to recruit several
thousand poorer Jews from throughout the country. Bitter complaints
were heard that the well-to-do managed to avoid the dangerous labor in
camps, airfields, and on fortifications which the Allies bombed relent
lessly. The work was mostly carried out under German command in
strategic places such as Bizerte, Mateur, and the El Aouina aerodrome
near Tunis. The Italian labor camps were remote from the main strategic
points and therefore less exposed to bombing. Furthermore, the condi
tions in these camps were far better than in those under German com
mand.
The Germans intended to have the Jews wear the Yellow Star as they
had done in occupied Europe. But, as far as we were able to ascertain,
this badge was introduced in Sfax, but only partially, if at all, in Tunis.
On the other hand, during their six-month occupation, the Germans
required the Jews to pay heavy fines and provide funds to maintain the
Jewish labor force. In Tunis, the community leadership levied payments
from 1,397 affluent members among the 40,000 Jews in the city; during
the six-month occupation, the Jews of Tunis provided 35,748,898.85
francs for community expenses. O f this, 31,022,311.50 were allocated to
maintain the labor force.
Anti-Semitic accusations were used as pretexts for demands for money
from the Jews. In 1943, for example, the Germans in Tunisia accused
“international Jewry” of helping the Allies prepare for war against Ger
many. This charge became a pretext for imposing fines on Tunis Jewry
amounting to twenty million francs. In order to meet the various German
damands, the Jewish leadership was compelled to mortgage real estate
and use the property of affluent Jews as a guarantee for bank loans.43
Thus, the terror organized against the Jews had a significant financial
aspect.
This form of terror was intricately bound up with other outrages, such
as Germans barging into synagogues, belittling rabbis, and intimidating
ordinary Jews. The intimidation originated in the upper echelons of the
German command. For instance, early in 1943 the O rtskom m andant (the
local German commander for Tunis), wrote to Georges Çarfatï, a repre
sentative of the Jews of Ariana, a suburb of Tunis, warning:
I have recently [become aware of] several acts of sabotage which were carried
out especially on military telephone lines in Ariana. Moreover, I received reports
that many among the Jewish population were spreading accusations and propa
ganda against the Axis states, a situation that disturbs public peace and security.
I am inclined to believe that the policy of restraint implemented in this connec
tion toward the Jewish population has not at all been properly understood— I
order you to announce to the Jewish population that any attempt to disturb the
public peace and security will lead to severe punishment. These punishments
will include the death penalty. If I receive one report about activity against the
interests of the Axis states originating within the Jewish population, I will have
several men arrested as hostages in order to have peace prevail.44
We can conclude on the basis of personal accounts of individuals

involved that local Jews were profoundly concerned with the threat to
their existence. Although the number of Jews who died in forced labor
camps under the Germans was small, and many others died as a result of
Allied aerial bombardments, it is vital to stress the fact that the very
presence of the Germans caused the deaths. During the early months of
1943, Jews began to desert fortification works and labor camps; no more
than six hundred of them were still obeying forced labor orders. One of
the most dangerous strategic points at the time was the El Aouina
aerodrome near Tunis. According to Avraham Sarfatl from Tunis who
worked there:
There was something special about our group. In the community [in Tunis], they
called us a g rou p e volan ty that is, a mobile group. For the most part, all the
groups were in camps or on the border with . . the front. I was not at the front,
but . . I worked at unloading the airplanes. . . . I will give an example of our
relationship to the Germans. . . . We are working at the airfield and there were
Allied bombings of the airfield. Then we would flee in cars together with the
Germans. We used to immediately leave the airfield and go off some distance.
But since the bombs also fell outside the airfield . . . there were also Jews, not
from my group but from those working outside the airfield, who were killed. Our
group continued to travel to this airfield every day until one day there was a
British bombing by planes that flew in low and destroyed all the planes that were
landing at that time as well as those that were on the airfield. . . . We saw a
frightening sight: The pilots were burnt inside their cockpits. The Germans told
us that there was nothing to unload but that we must gather up the corpses. Also,
several Jews working outside the airfield were killed in that bombing.45
A final issue of central importance in connection with the Holocaust in

Europe has been raised by researchers regarding Tunisian Jewry: Were
the Germans moving to exterminate them? Yitshak Avrahami's personal

account claims “[the Germans] did not have enough time to carry out
their plan for mass expulsion and extermination. I know that they planned
to carry out acts of burning people and I know that near Tunis there was
a brick kiln and they planned to use this brick kiln to carry out their
plan.”46
A similar version was provided by Naftali Bar-Giora, one of the first
emissaries of the Jewish Agency and the Mossad Le-cAliya in Palestine to
arrive in Tunisia during the latter half of 1943, following the country's
liberation by the Allies: “I know that an S.S. unit was preparing gas
chambers near Kairouan in a plant for producing cement and plaster.
These installations were not completed before the withdrawal of Rom
mel's army from Africa and were dismantled. There were Frenchmen
and Arabs who saw the place and told about its existence.”47
There are countless other theories and accounts— about plans which
were foiled, or on the creation of facilities to carry out plans which were
not completed due to lack of time before Tunisia's liberation on 7 May
1943. At this stage of research, however, it is widely agreed by historians
that the Germans were in panic and frustrated by the bombings and
other military operations and thus did not deal with this issue; they had
little faith in the Muslim population and it is doubtful that the latter
would have rendered support for such an endeavor; the Germans did not
succeed in organizing an effective propaganda apparatus; their channels
of communication with Europe were weak at best; and the presence of
the Italians may have been a moderating factor on the Germans vis-à-vis
the Jews.
A lg e r ia : R e g r e s s io n in th e J e w s E c o n o m ic
a n d P o litic a l S tatu s
The status of Algerian Jewry deteriorated significantly— juridically and

politically— with the rise of Vichy. Not only did the 1940-41 laws,
discussed above, apply to them but, on 7 October 1940, Philippe Pétain
signed an edict abrogating the Crémieux Decree of 24 October 1870.
This decree had granted Algerian Jews French citizenship. Thus all
Algerian Jews lost their French citizenship, with the exception of Jews
who had fought in the French army and were decorated. However,
personal property rights remained in effect for all Jews.
Serious confusion arose as a result of the Law of 7 October 1940. For

instance, there were Jews who argued they were entitled to conserve
their full citizenship rights because they had fought for France in 1939-
40; they claimed to have been taken prisoners of war but managed to
escape and consequently were candidates for military decoration. Yet, if
they were unable to prove this claim on the basis of official documents; if
they presented only written evidence from their divisions' commanding
officers; if there was no consistency between their declarations and writ
ten evidence— they could not receive the M édaille m ilitaire. Conse
quently, they could not enjoy the benefits of Article 4 of the law abrogat
ing the Crémieux Decree which entitled combattants from 1914-18 and
1939-40 who had been decorated to remain citizens of France.48
But retaining French citizenship was not simple even for army veter
ans; an Algerian Jew who had fought for France but not during World
War I or in 1939-40, was not entitled to keep his political rights as a
French citizen, for Section 4 of the Law of 7 October 1940, stipulated
that the citizenship rights of Algerian Jews would be preserved only if
they fought during these wars and were decorated. Hence, those who
were decorated, for example, during the French military pacification
campaign in Morocco in 1926, were not eligible to keep their citizen
ship.49
Among the most crucial government agencies dealing with Jewish
matters in France and Algeria was the C om m issariat G én éral aux Ques
tions Ju iv e s— a body advising the Vichy regime on laws affecting Jews as
such and on applying such laws, as well as on confiscating or sequestering
Jewish property and overseeing Jewish economic activity. Xavier Vallat,
the head of the C om m issariat, visited Algeria in August 1941. He aimed
to investigate various possibilities of applying the newly adopted laws.
Vallat met with Chief Rabbi Maurice Eisenbeth to discuss the new
educational policy and held discussions with Jewish war veterans. The
latter had hoped that no further discriminatory measures would be en
acted and implemented. Despite his outwardly friendly disposition, Val
lat had no intentions of recommending policy revisions.50 Thus, for ex
ample, in the spirit of the 1940-41 laws, the decree of 5 November 1941
called for enforcing the num erus clausus on Jews in the legal profession:
only 2 percent of the eight hundred registered lawyers could be Jews.
Therefore, only sixteen Jews remained as lawyers.51
As for Jewish midwives, the decree stipulating restrictions on them
was published in Algeria's Jo u rn a l O fficiel on 29 November 1941, predat

ing the decree's publication in France (26 December). The number of
Jewish midwives, in the spirit of the Law of 2 June 1941, could not,
under any circumstances, surpass the 2 percent restriction. Yet even for
those who were among the fortunate few, the bureaucratic process of
proving eligibility was long and drawn out.52
More demoralizing, however, was the extension to Algeria of the
French Law of 21 November 1941, stipulating that the Jews were to be
deprived of the right to possess real estate (Jo u rn a l O fficiel, 25 Novem
ber 1941). The Jews' real property would be turned over to adm inistra
teurs provisoires. According to Article 1 of the Law:
(Art. I) La loi est applicable à l’Algérie, dans les conditions ci-après: En vue
d’éliminer toute influence juive dans l’économie algérienne, le gouverneur gén
éral de l’Algérie peut nommer un administrateur provisoire à: 1. Toute entreprise
industrielle, commerciale, immobilière ou artisanale; 2. Tout immeuble, droit
immobilier ou droit au bail quelconque; 3. Tout bien meuble, valeur mobilière
ou droit mobilier quelconque, lorsque ceux à qui ils appartiennent ou qui les
dirigent, ou certains d’entre eux sont Juifs. Toutefois, ces dispositions ne s’appli
quent pas aux valeurs émises par l’Etat français et le gouvernement général et
aux obligations émises par les sociétés ou collectivités publiques françaises ou
algériennes. E t, sauf exception motivée— aux immeubles ou locaux servant à
l’habitation personnelle des intéressés, de leurs ascendants ou descendants, ni
aux meubles meublants qui garnissent les dits immeubles ou locaux. ((Art.I) The
laws applies to Algeria, under the following conditions: With the aim of eliminat
ing all Jewish influence in the Algerian economy, the governor-general of Algeria
can appoint a provisional administrator to: 1. All industrial, commercial, real
estate, or trade enterprises; 2. All real estate, freehold or leasehold of any kind;
3. All personal goods, stocks and shares, or bonds of any kind, when those to
whom they belong or who manage them, or some among them, are Jews.
However, these arrangements do not apply to securities issued by the French
state and the general government, nor to bonds issued by French or Algerian
societies or public bodies in collective ownership. And, except with justifiable
exceptions— to real estate or premises providing personal habitation for the
interested parties, or for their forebears or descendents, nor to personal belong
ings that furnish the said real estate or premises.)53
In other words: they were entitled to hold on to bonds and govern

ment securities as well as to their private homes and their contents. The
adm inistrateurs were required to prepare lists of the properties and to
assess their value; they were vested with the authority to manage Jewish-
owned properties.54
In the area of education, the num erus clausus (quota) in Algeria was
enforced with greater severity than in the Protectorates. Whereas in
Morocco and Tunisia, the Jews were somewhat less represented in the
Protectorate-sponsored schools and kept many traditional religious schools,
not to mention the AIU schools, Algerian Jewry had fewer religious
schools. As we have seen, the AIU in Algeria played a marginal educa
tional role, with most Jewish youths attending state schools. Hence,
when Vichy extended its educational restrictions to Algeria in 1941-42,
leaders of the Jewish consistory faced a serious problem: creating school
places for many thousands of youths to be ousted from the state schools,
practically overnight.
In institutions for higher learning, especially the Université d ’A lger,
Jews were limited to 3 percent of the total enrollment. Jewish professors,
who were also ousted, raised the idea of organizing courses in private
forums for the ousted students and those not admitted to the university.
But the authorities would not hear of this and forbade the initiative
through the Law of 31 Decem ber 1941. Simultaneously, in the primary
and secondary schools, the Jewish quota was set at 14 percent of the
total. To enable young people to pursue their education, the authorities
postponed the implementation of the restrictions for several months.
During this interval, the consistories of Algiers, Oran, and Constantine,
in conjunction with Jewish intellectual circles, created classes throughout
Algeria. The one advantage of the new laws, the authorization for Jews to
take the state examinations, demonstrated that the new institutions main
tained high educational standards, as the students performed well on
these examinations. But during the latter half of October 1942, a new
policy restricted Jewish representation in primary and secondary schools
from 14 to 7 percent. (See table 5 on educational statistics.)55
As early as May 1941, Jewish university students, alarmed by the
possibility of quotas, wrote to the French Ministry of Education, empha
sizing that: “la pensée même d un num erus clausus nous semble sacri
lège. Comment concevoir Vidée d une culture parcimonieusement accor
dée aux uns et refusée aux autres, et qui impose un choix, aussi cruel à
ceux qui seront appelés qu’à ceux qui seront exclus?” (the very idea of a
numerus clausus seems sacrilege to us. How can one imagine a culture
parcimoniously bestowed on some and refused others, and which com
pels a choice that is just as cruel for those who will be called as for those
who will be excluded?).56
Table 5. Jewish Representation in Algerian Primary and Secondary Schools
A cadem ic Y ear 1941-1942 A cadem ic Y ear 1942-1943
Q uota: 14% Q uota: 7%
N on-Jew ish Students Je w ish Students Je w ish Students
Type o f School Nov. 5 . 1940 A ccep ted R em oved A ccep ted R em oved
Lycées & Collèges 10,000 1,000 765 549 1,314

Cours complémentaires 13,693 1,100 530 550 1,000
Technical Ed. 764 71 8 35 43
Elementary Ed. 223,282 10,658 10,234 5,529 16,583
Agricultural Ed. 238 7 4 3 7
Commercial Ed. 118 6 7 3 10
Naval Ed. 70 2 — 1 1
Artistic Ed. 3,600 225 414 112 526
Total 251,765 13,069 11,962 6,782 19,484
Source: Robert Brunschvig, "L es mesures antijuives dans l’enseignement, en Algérie sous le régime de Vichy,” Revue dAlger, 1, no. 2 (1944), 65.
However, the pleas and demands did not change policy. Affluent Jews
subsidized the new community schools. Nevertheless, as time elapsed,
funds were becoming scarce, for the Law of 21 November 1941 pertain
ing to the transfer of Jewish real estate to the adm inistrateurs made it
exceedingly difficult for the elite to provide sufficient financial support.
As Elie Gozlan of the Jewish leadership observed following the American
landing: if the liberation of Algeria had been postponed, it is doubtful
that a proper educational apparatus could have been maintained.5'
Following the liberation, Rabbi Eisenbeth demanded that Governor-
General Yves Châtel totally abolish all anti-Jewish laws. Yet his pleas fell
on deaf ears at the time. Moreover, as in Morocco, not only did the
Americans not interfere in internal French affairs but agreed to the
appointment of Admiral Darlan, one of Pétain's closest collaborators, as
the head of the French nation in French territories not under German
occupation.
In Decem ber 1942, Darlan was assassinated and Henri Giraud, Dar-
lan’s appointee as French military commander for North Africa, inherited
his position. Following Châtel’s departure, Marcel Peyrouton, a partici
pant in the formulation of the 7 October 1940 decree, became governor-
general of Algeria. Only in the wake of protests made by Jewish organi
zations in Algeria and the United States, in the American press and by
Gaullist supporters, did Giraud publish, on 18 March 1943, a decree
calling for the elimination of discriminatory policies. But not all anti-
Jewish measures were abrogated immediately. Significantly, moreover,
Giraud simultaneously issued another edict abrogating the Crémieux
Decree for the second time. If, following the publication of the Law of 7
October 1940, Algerian Jews had lost their citizenship and political rights,
their situation in 1943 was far worse. Giraud’s steps aimed at depriving
the Jews not only of their political rights but also at regression in matters
of personal status, requiring a return to the jurisdiction of the rabbinic
courts which had prevailed prior to the 1870 decree.
General de Gaulle arrived in Algiers at the end of May 1943. He met
with Rabbi Eisenbeth and told him in the name of the French Commit
tee of National Liberation that the Committee had decided to nullify the
Giraud Decree which abrogated the Crémieux Decree. Indeed, on 20
October 1943, the Committee made an official declaration calling for
total abolition of all the discriminatory laws, including the Giraud
Decree.
The Jews and the Underground in Algiers ,

1940-1942
During the years 1940-42, many Jews joined the Resistance. A segment
of Jewish youth in Algiers was determined to organize self-defense and
underground activity. According to the personal account of Paul Se-
baoun, an underground activist, a group of Jewish young men began, as
early as 1940, to organize clandestinely at the Géo Gras sports club in
Algiers whose owner was a non-Jew. Under the guise of sports activity,
the club served as a facade for self-defense training. These men went out
at night to paint the symbol of Free France and the letter V for victory
on the walls of buildings throughout Algiers. They even purchased weap
ons (pistols and rifles) from Spanish smugglers, which they stored at the
Club Géo Gras. As Sebaoun relates: “Nous utilisions des caches aména
gées dans les murs, les planchers, sous le ring de boxe, tout cela à Tinsu
de notre ami Géo Gras” (We made use of hiding places found in the
walls, in the floors, under the boxing ring, and all that without our friend
Géo Gras knowing about it).58 These activists saw as their main enemies
the militant supporters of the Service d’Ordre Légionnaire (SOL, the
French version of the Nazi SS) and the Parti Populaire Français.
On 22 October 1942, American general Mark Clark arrived secretly at
Cherchell on the coast west of Algiers and negotiated with senior repre
sentatives of the Resistance in order to coordinate their military opera
tions with the American landing in North Africa. The clandestine negoti
ations at Cherchell revolved around two critical, complementary efforts:
(1) the Resistance would be responsible, with the aid of volunteers, for
cutting Vichy communications at zero hour, for arresting pro-Vichy se
nior officials, and for taking over the headquarters of the Vichy chief of
staff for North Africa; (2) the Allied forces would land commando units
before the arrival of regular American troops in order to relieve the
Resistance whose numerical inferiority vis-à-vis the Vichy armed forces
would preclude its holding the positions taken indefinitely.59
In order to accomplish the plans negotiated at Cherchell, eight hundred
volunteers would be needed, Sebaoun observed. This emphasized the
importance of local underground movements, such as the Géo Gras
group who had direct and indirect contact with the Resistance leader
ship. Only six hundred men and youths agreed to cooperate with the
Resistance operation. And only 377 actually turned up for action. Most of
them were Jews (other sources indicate that of the 377 volunteers, 315
were Jews).60 O f this Jewish majority, 132 were Géo Gras activists,
known as Group B. They constituted the largest and most dynamic unit
of volunteers.61
On the afternoon of 7 November 1942, British radio broadcast the
code phrase: “Hello Robert, Franklin is arriving” (Robert was Robert
Murphy, the special American representative at Algiers; Franklin was, of
course, President Franklin D. Roosevelt). The volunteers and the Resis
tance leadership worked out the final details of their coup d’état at the
home of a local Jewish professor, Henri Aboulker. Weapons were distrib
uted to the volunteers. The operation began on the morning of 8 Novem
ber. The sources agree that due to the active participation of the 377
men of the Resistance, the mission to neutralize the administrative cen
ter of Algiers was accomplished.62 Despite the presence of 11,000 (unpre
pared) pro-Vichy soldiers and thousands of SO L legionnaires, the city
was taken over before the Americans arrived. The activists themselves
were surprised at their success, as Sebaoun indicates: “That 377 men had
been able during nearly one day to hold on to all the strategic points of a
major city like Algiers might seem unbelievable.”63
Did the events of 1940-43 and those immediately preceding the war
convince the Jews that France in p articu lar had disappointed them, the
same France that they had learned to respect since 1830? These issues
are dealt with in chapter 3.
Chapter 3
Zionism, Clandestine Emigration to

Israel, and Its Impact on Muslim-
Jewish Relations: The Case of
Morocco, 1947—March 1949
The political events that preceded World War II intensified Maghribi

Jewish political awareness, among Zionists and non-Zionists alike. When
in May 1939 the British government published the White Paper, stipu
lating the restriction of Jewish emigration to Mandatory Palestine (mainly
from Europe) to 10,000 per year for five years, Jewish educated opinion
in Morocco and Tunisia expressed strong disapproval— regarding this
move as the final betrayal of Britain’s obligations to the Jewish people
under the Balfour Declaration and the Mandate. In Morocco, for in
stance, L A v en ir Illustré warned in this connection, “[There] is no hope
without Zionism. . . . The fast pace of anti-Jewish persecutions [in Eu
rope] is such that we do not have time to find multiple solutions to the
Jewish problem. The house is burning.” 1
Yet very little could be accomplished in the Maghribi Diaspora to
challenge British policymakers who were pressured by the Palestine
Arab Revolt of 1936-39 and to reverse the decision. The Vichy era
rendered North African activists more powerless under the yoke of the
restrictive laws. After the liberation of North Africa in 1942-43, general
communal and Zionist activities were reorganized. The French Protecto
rate authorities, especially in Morocco, were now concerned about the
Jews turning their backs on them. Roger Le Tourneau, a French official
and educator who was intimately acquainted with Jewish intellectuals in
84
Zionismy Clandestine Emigration 85
Fez, worried that as a result of the Vichy experience, they seemed to

fraternize with the American liberators.2
Did the Vichy period, as Le Tourneau suggested, alienate the Jews
from France? Did they turn to the Americans? The refusal to grant Jews
French citizenship, and Vichy, certainly irritated segments of Maghribi
Jewry, as did the persistence of poverty among wide segments of their
population. It seems that the post-1942-43 period— in view of the rise
of militant Maghribi nationalism among Muslims on the one hand, and
the creation of Israel, on the other— encouraged some educated and
many noneducated Jews (though certainly not all) to consider the Zionist
and other options other than the colonial system. The Israel/Maghribi
Muslim nationalism factors served as a driving force in this regard, as did
poverty. These far outweighed the temporary bitter experience of 1940-
42.
Le Tourneau’s observations on Morocco, however, concerning the
Jews' contacts with the Americans following the landing in North Africa,
should not be taken lightly. Among the Americans who landed in Mo
rocco, a not insignificant number of military personnel were Jews who
developed amicable ties with their brethren. Numerous Moroccan Jew
ish women married American Jewish soldiers and moved into the military
bases created throughout French Morocco.3
The Vichy period d id stimulate a growing segment of pro-Zionist
youths and young adults in Morocco and the rest of the Maghrib to
engage in active Zionism (tsïyonüt m agshim a) leading to caliya. The
aforementioned JN F Force in Tunisia created in 1943 the dynamic Tseire-
Tsiyon of Tunis that was an outgrowth of the old ha-Shomer ha-Tsa cir
and the UUJJ. The Tseire-Tsiyon subsequently branched off into the rest
of North Africa. It became the most vital local pioneer and kibbutz-
oriented movement. In Morocco, the Charles Netter Association which
had existed since the late 1920s was transformed into an important
Zionist youth/young adult organization during the early and mid-1940s.
It, too, was strongly pro-caliya.
Beginning in the latter half of 1943, when emissaries of the United
Kibbutz Movement (ha-Kibbutz ha-Meuhad), ha-Shomer ha-Tsacir, and
of the religious Zionist movement arrived in Tunisia and later in Morocco
and Algeria— affiliated with the Yishuv’s Hagana, Mossad Le-cAliya, and
the Jewish Agency— their encounter with Zionist-oriented youths was to
have long-range consequences. Operating illegally for the most part,
86 Zionism, Clandestine Emigration
these Yishuv emissaries, particularly Yig5 al Cohen and Ephraim Fried

man (Ben-Hayyim), members of the United Kibbutz Movement, brought
Tseire-Zion under the influence of the kibbutz-affiliated and socialist
DROR youth organization. Both Tseire-Zion and Charles Netter empha
sized *aliya in the 1940s. The Charles Netter movement in French
Morocco was more ideologically diverse. It catered to both secular and
socialist elements and to religious Zionist youths. During the 1950s, the
Charles Netter leadership tended to identify more with the religious
Mizrahi/ha-Po cel ha-Mizrahi Zionist brand. The Tseire-Zion, on the
other hand, were plagued by divisions in 1947, with a large segment of
the membership embracing the ultrasocialist ha-Shomer ha-Tsa cir van
guard ideology, while the rest constituted the separate DROR group.
This development applied more to Tunisia than to Morocco. DROR and
ha-Shomer ha-Tsa cir made inroads into Morocco and Algeria during the
late 1940s.
Needless to say, given the French colonial policy until 1948-49 of
opposing caliy a, though tolerating, if not overlooking, other aspects of
Zionism, these and similar movements were watched closely by the
authorities. The most disciplined among the youths handpicked by the
emissaries were trained in self-defense: judo and the handling of weap
ons. Cohen and Friedman arranged for these youths to swear allegiance
to the Hagana (as late as 1948 still the major Jewish military organization
in Palestine under the Mandate). Subsequently, branches of the Hagana
developed in Morocco and Tunisia, eventually extending into Algeria, as
had been the case in parts of Europe. Several veteran Zionists and
communal leaders in the three communities— mainly Paul Ghez, Dr.
Leopold Baretvas, and Paul Calamaro— assisted the illegal operations,
knowing full well they risked being arrested. The decision in the Yishuv
to dispatch the special emissaries to North Africa and to other Arabic
speaking countries from 1943 onward in order to organize youth caliya as
well as self-defense, was supported by these and several other leaders in
the Maghrib. The latter felt that the experience of 1940-42, the German
occupation of Tunisia, the fa r h ü d (pogrom) in Iraq of June 1941— in
which 179 Jews were slaughtered by pro-Nazi Muslim groups— necessi
tated the formation of self-defense units to guard the communities.
It is noteworthy that religious Zionists on the island of Jerba, the
Atereth-Zion movement, also organized diverse training to prepare would-
Zionismy Clandestine Emigration 87
be emigrant youths. Other forces, such as the religious Zionists of the

urban areas (m agen d ati)y and the Zionist Revisionist supporters of the
Yishuv’s Irgun Tsva5 i Le5 umi (IZL), organized self-defense efforts in
Tunisia.
In fact, the IZL in Tunisia was an offshoot of its overseas headquarters
in Paris, active in 1947-49. One of its emissaries to Tunisia, Itzhak
Tuviana, purchased weapons and trained the IZ L’s local youths in the
use of firearms. He was succeeded by Yehuda Sadeh in January 1948,
David Danon, and Moshe “Misha” Arens. The latter became well known
after 1977 as one of Israel s leading political figures during the LIKUD
rule. Much of IZ L’s efforts in Tunisia took place between January 1948
and early 1949. The IZL of the 1940s was less effective than the Hagana
in Tunisia. Its emissaries and local commanders feared that they would
be targeted by the European colonists and feared the potential radicalism
of the Tunisian Muslim nationalists. Their activity, then, was effectively
paralyzed.4
Starting in 1946, the Hagana self-defense apparatus concentrated its
training facilities in Algeria at a camp near Rovigo not far from Algiers.
More advanced training was provided for the activists in France at Camp
Sathonay near Lyon. As the system grew its leadership became diverse.
The commander of the Hagana in France, becoming responsible for
North Africa, was Avraham Polonski (“Paul”) who appointed Jacques
Lazarus as commander of operations in Algiers: the center for coordinat
ing self-defense for the three communities. Friedman replaced Lazarus
as commander at the end of 1946.5
Toward the end of 1947 more reorganization procedures were intro
duced. The desire of many Moroccan and some Tunisian Jews to make
caliy ay and the efforts by the French to prevent their departure, com
pelled the Mossad Le-cAliya leaders in Israel and Europe to organize
emigration illegally. Entrusted with the task of organizing it, Friedman
could no longer involve himself with the Hagana command. The title
“Hagana Commander for North Africa,” enjoyed by Lazarus and Fried
man, was eliminated and instead each country now had its own com
mander, recruited among local activists. The Hagana in North Africa
survived into the latter half of 1948 and then faded in the wake of the
caliya of its key members. While it existed, its activists assisted in the
illegal caliya of 1947-48 as described below. According to Friedman, by
mid-1948 the North African Hagana had 650 members and twenty-six
branches divided thus:
C ountry B ran ch es M em bers
Algeria 14 200
Tunisia 6 250
Morocco 6 200
By the time Moroccan Jewry were facing physical dangers (mid-1948) the
self-defense apparatus ceased to exist or emerged weakened due to the
lack of leadership. Be that as it may, in 1948 North African Zionism— in
the federations, youth movements, and political parties— seemed like a
microcosm of the Yishuv. During the 1950s, as subsequent chapters
reveal, all Zionist/Israeli political parties and movements, from Mapai
and ha-Bonlm to Mapam and ha-No car ha-Tsiyoni, were represented in
the communal spectrum.
As for the illegal caliya itself, we noted that the emissaries of the
Mossad Le-CAliya and Jewish Agency organized it clandestinely in 1947-
48 from the Algerian coast. They were assisted inside Morocco and
Tunisia by a local Zionist youth underground and by smugglers, Jews and
non-Jews, who helped the emigrants. Concentrating in this chapter on
Morocco, the underground assisted Moroccan Jews to reach a secret
transit camp in Algeria via the northeastern Moroccan frontier area of
Oudjda. In Algeria, Moroccan Jews bordered ships whose destination
was Palestine. The Mossad Le-cAliya sent three ships between May and
Decem ber 1947. Jews successfully boarded the first two but, upon reach
ing the shores of Palestine, were seized by the British authorities and
held in Cyprus until after Israel attained independence. The third ship
barely escaped being caught by the French Algerian authorities. Instead
of leaving with several hundred emigrants as originally planned, it man
aged to escape with only forty-four. These succeeded in reaching Pales
tine. (On the Jewish population in Morocco in 1936 and 1951, see tables
6 and 7.)
From that point on until the beginning of 1949 Moroccan Jews contin
ued to flee clandestinely and semi-clandestinely— both with and without
the guidance of the Moroccan Zionist underground— across the Moroc-
can-Algerian border at Oudjda. Those caught by the French authorities
Zionism, Clandestine Emigration 89
Table 6. Jewish and General Alliance School Population in Moroccan

Cities, 1936 and 1951a
Jewish AIU Schools: Jewish AIU Schools:
Population: Boys and Population: Boys and
Town 1936b Girlsc 1951d Girlsc
Agadir 503 61 1,500 202
Azemmour 459 99 300 89
Casablanca 38,806 3,853 75,000 7,683
Elksar 1,500 188 1,600 204
Fez 10,507 1,646 16,050 2,028
Larache 1,200 285 1,300 101
Marrakesh 25,646 1,107 18,500 2,569
Mazagan 3,525 696 3,800 670
Meknès 9,521 1,428 15,000 2,384
Mogador 6,151 888 6,500 906
Oudjda 2,048 40 2,000 No data
Rabat 6,698 1,030 13,000 1,392
Safi 3,634 787 4,500 673
Salé 2,600 502 3,300 536
Sefrou 4,382 296 5,500 548
Tangier 10,000 1,072 10,000 1,088
Tétuan 6,000 488 6,000 419
“For statistical data on the bled communities, see table 7.
bBased on the 1936 population census, analyzed by Y. D. Sémach: “Le recensement de 1936 au M aroc,”
Paix et Droit, 19, no. 6 (June 1939), 8 -1 0 .
c “Tableau des écoles de l’Alliance Israélite,” Paix et Droit, 16, no. 4, monthly (June 1936), 16.
d"E ta t comparatif des taux de scolarisation au Maroc: Années 1 9 5 0 -1 9 5 1 ,” Les Cahiers de l'Alliance
Israélite Universelle, nos. 5 0 -5 1 (February-M arch 1951), 8.
c Ibid. Note that my population estimates for Tétuan, Elksar, and Larache (in 1936) are mine, based on
archivai information. This is also the case for Tangier (1936) and Oudjda (1951). The Spanish Zone did
not have an official census until 1942. In Tangier, the International Zone authorities never conducted an
official census.
and m akhzan police at the border or on the way to Oudjda, were forced
to return to their homes. Those successfully reaching Algeria (Algiers and
Oran) were assisted by Israeli emissaries there to depart illegally for
Marseilles where, after the birth of Israel, they were cared for by the
Jewish Agency representatives and the AJDC that helped the Jewish
Agency manage the Marseilles transit camps. There were still others who
managed to obtain passports and visas legally or by bribing Moroccan
and French officials. It is not completely clear if clandestine Zionist
forces among Moroccan Jews assisted in the bribing procedure. These
Table 7. Comparative Statistics on the B led Communities of French

Morocco W here the AIU Operated Schools, 1936 and 1951
Jewish AIU Schools: Jewish AIU Schools:
Population: Boys and Population: Boys and
Town 1936* Girlsh 1951c Girlsd
Amizmiz 601 — 593 57
Ben-Ahmed 201 69 475 126
Beni-Mellal 1,914 31 — —
Ber-Rechid 171 43 350 86

Boujad 753 131 800 194
Demnat 1,691 99 1,800 155
El-Kelaa 380 — 620 70
Gourrama 410 — 450 53
Imintanout 256 — 360 75
Inezgane ? — 450 43
Kasba-Tadla 541 93 750 148
Khenitra ? 6 171 41
Kasr al-Suq 832 — 1,100 54
Kerrando ? — 200 44
Midelt 832 91 1,700 246
Oued-Zem 207 — 400 82
Ouezzan 1,668 208 2,350 366
Rich 405 — 578 101
Rissani ? — 500 51
Sidi Rahal 721 — 600 50
Talsint 269 — 270 62
Taourirt 550 45 450 104
Taroudant 926 162 950 133
Taza 194 — 520 56
Tinehrir ? — 600 61
Tiznit 357 76 450 101
Tounza 624 — 317 40
aY. D. Sémach, “Le Recensement de 1936 au M aroc,” Paix et Droit, 19, no. 6, monthly (June 1939), 8 -
10.
b“Tableau des écoles de l’Alliance Israélite,” Paix et Droit , 16, no. 4 (June 1936), 16.
c“Etat comparatif des taux de scolarisation au Maroc: Années 1 9 5 0 -1 9 5 1 ,” Les Cahiers de l’Alliance
Israélite Universelle, nos. 5 0 -5 1 (February-M arch 1951), 8.
dIbid., 8. Note that these were only bled communities where the Alliance maintained schools. There
were numerous towns and hamlets with extremely small communities still not affected by the AIU but
rather by the Ot$ar ha-Torah network.
emigrants sailed to Marseilles from Casablanca or flew directly to parts of

France in the first phase of their caliy a.6
In September 1948, while the French authorities in Morocco contin
ued to ban both unorganized and organized emigration, their counter
parts in Algeria agreed to allow Jewish refugees who had fled there via
Oudjda to be transferred legally from Algiers to Marseilles.7 Between
May 1947 and April 1948 only 1,500 persons from all of North Africa
made caliya. Yet between April and Decem ber 1948, as many as 9,000
Jews, the majority of whom were Moroccans, reached France on their
way to Israel.8
This sketchy outline concerning clandestine caliya is based on my
original findings during the early 1980s. It is insufficient to understand
the process and the socio-political motives behind it. Having had access
recently to the French Protectorate archives at Nantes, I may now delve
into this subject in greater detail and analysis, accentuating the pogroms
of Oudjda and Djérada, Judeo-Muslim relations, and the socioeconomic
factors that are relevant to emigration, as well as the position of the
French authorities.
The Pogroms o f Oudjda and Djérada: Their

Connection to Zionism, cAliya, and Judeo-Muslim
Relations, June 1948
It has been written that illegal caliya from Morocco via Algeria, the
creation of Israel, and, perhaps, anti-Semitic agitation by French Protec
torate officials, were catalytic factors contributing to the pogroms carried
out against the Jews of Oudjda and the nearby hamlet of Djérada on 7
June 1948. On that day local Muslims killed forty-seven Jews in both
places, also causing considerable property damage. It has also been
suggested that the pogroms came in the wake of a speech delivered by
Sultan Muhammad V the previous month in which he proclaimed that
the Arab world had to struggle against Zionism because of the creation of
Israel. Though he insisted that his Jewish subjects were loyal and not to
be identified in any way with their “brethren in occupied Palestine/' the
sultan did not succeed in calming tempers among extremists affiliated
directly or indirectly with the Istiqlàl, then the leading nationalist party
that advocated the need for full independence from France.
W ere the nationalists or local Muslim elements the main instigators of

the pogroms? There is no doubt about Muslims having carried out the
atrocities. Nevertheless, Ya cakov Krause (Karoz), a Mossad Le-cAliya
official thoroughly familiar with internal Moroccan political affairs, pointed
at the French as the main culprits. The Residency officials at all levels of
the administrative hierarchy had not only refrained from combating the
social and economic hardships of the Jewish communities, but they
prevented caliya. Moreover, their representatives at Oudjda and Djérada
either organized the pogroms or allowed them to occur. They openly
ignored the upheavals, so that in the future they could exploit them to
carry out severe measures against the Muslims.9
The archives at Nantes, though far from indicating that these assess
ments are inaccurate, nevertheless shed new light, providing more com
prehensive dimensions on this complex situation and on clandestine
emigration or Zionism. According to General Alphonse Juin, French
Morocco s resident-general between 1947 and 1951, Moroccan Jews feared
that pogroms and other forms of violence were inevitable with the emer
gence of Moroccan nationalism in the post-W orld War II era. France
had become a weak world power after 1944-45, while Moroccan Muslims
living in the colonial sphere of influence seized the opportunity to chal
lenge the French and their allies: the European settlers and the religious
or ethnic minorities. In order to ease Muslim-Jewish tensions, several
French-educated Jews contacted leaders of the Istiqlàl (founded in 1944),
to discuss the future of the Jews. They were convinced that Moroccan
independence was imminent. For their part, the Istiqlàlists initially sought
to win adherents to the nationalist cause in the Jewish communities. In
1944-46, the nationalists and Sultan Muhammad V, their most powerful
supporter, considered the Jews as an important element that, once siding
with them, would strengthen their anticolonial goals.10
The educated Jews who contacted the Istiqlàl were also shrewd. They
played the Muslims against the French, wanting assurances that once
Moroccan independence was realized, the Jews would benefit from full
political rights as citizens on an equal footing with the Muslims. At the
same time,Juin argued, by contacting the Istiqlàl these Jews sought to
arouse concern among the French that the Jewish communities might
“go astray” and cease to support the Protectorate. They expected the
Residency to offer the Jews long overdue political and economic privi
leges. This is what Juin described as “une politique d’équilibre entre les
nationalistes et les Français” (a politics of balance between the national*

ists and the French).11
Needless to say, the Jews who embraced this strategy hardly repre
sented the mainstream of Moroccan Jewry or even large segments of its
educated elite. Furthermore, their early contact with the nationalists was
an exercise in futility, for it became quite apparent to the latter that
Zionism was making serious inroads among the Jews. Following the
twenty-second Zionist Congress at Basel, the Moroccan delegates attend
ing it returned home to undertake intensive Zionist campaigning around
the country. This development, of course, was accompanied by the
clandestine caliya, organized from the early part of 1947 through a net
work of Zionist recruiters. Juin suspected that much of the Zionist activ
ity including caliya centered mainly in Casablanca and was financed by
the AJDC. Yet he presented no evidence to substantiate this claim .12
From 1947 onward, both the Moroccan nationalists and the French
complained about the collusion between Moroccan Zionists and the World
Zionist Organization/AJDC. The Muslims were particularly adamant al
though the French Residency also questioned the reasons for outside
meddlings in Morocco s affairs, suggesting that this intrusion by an Amer
ican Jewish organization and Zionist circles in France and Palestine be
confronted head-on for Moroccan Jewry’s sake. Why? By the French not
checking Zionist and pro-Zionist activity periodically, the Moroccan na
tionalists could then castigate the Jews for being disloyal.13
An early indication that certain nationalist circles questioned Moroc
can Jewry’s loyalty to their country is illustrated in an article written by
3Abü Khalil in L e Je u n e M aghrébin. Entitled “The Zionist Poison in
Morocco,” the article noted that though Moroccan Muslims treated the
Jews respectfully, the latter were becoming remote from everything
Moroccan, refusing to adapt to the national will. During World War II
when Morocco was under Vichy’s influence, Sultan Muhammad V fought
against French anti-Semitic efforts to promulgate racial legislation. Yet
the Jews, lacking gratitude, preferred to engage in profitmaking and in
amassing great wealth rather than manifest patriotic sentiments. They
were, according to ’Abu Khalil, cowards by nature, diabolical Zionists
who organized reunions and fund-raising benefits on behalf of their
brethren in Palestine.14
Jewish leaders in Morocco reacted promptly to ’Abü Khalil’s article.
Isaac Dahan, president of the Federation of AIU alumni, stated emphat
ically that 3Abü Khalïl was a dishonest rabble-rouser and maintained that
Zionism in Morocco was exploited by nationalist extremists to drive a
wedge between Muslims and Jews. He urged the French authorities to
censure future articles with this orientation so as to avert a campaign of
hatred that would result in bloodshed.15
Jewish-Muslim tensions in 1947 and during the first half of 1948
increased, however. Early in June 1948, Francis Lacoste, the French
minister plenipotentiary in Rabat, alerted Juin that the nationalists had
for several months searched for opportunities to stir public opinion against
the Jews in connection with clandestine caliya via Algeria as well as the
Palestine war. By turning the Jews into the scapegoats of the Arab-Israeli
war, the nationalists had hoped to enlist greater numerical support among
the Muslim people which would subsequently be directed against the
French presence in Morocco.16 In other words: the whole campaign
against Zionism and caliya was part and parcel of the goal to fortify the
ranks of the nationalist movement for the eventual anticolonial struggle.
Several days prior to the pogroms at Oudjda and Djérada, nationalist
elements conducted an economic boycott against European and Jewish
merchants throughout French Morocco. The boycott rapidly extended to
movie theatres, pharmacies, and transportation companies. In Fez, the
wife of cAlâl al-Fàsï, an influential Istiqlâli leader, and the wives of other
Muslim notables, organized demonstrations in support of the Arab ar
mies’ war with Israel. Similar activity was reported in Casablanca, where
affluent Muslim women donated their jewelry for the war effort.17
On Monday, 7 June 1948, Juin received a telegram from M. Brunei,
the regional head of Oudjda, informing him that a pogrom had taken
place in Oudjda City after a Jew attacked a Muslim with scissors. Based
on this version, the incident occurred when the two men entered into a
heated discussion concerning the Palestine war. Once the incident be
came known in the Muslim m adtna (the Muslim section of the city),
violence broke out against the Jews. Added to the looting, bodily inju
ries, and killings was damage to Jewish-owned stores and homes in
several integrated neighborhoods. It was also stressed that “the majority
of Oudjda’s Muslims assisted effectively in restoring order.” 18
This report does not suggest that the pogroms and other forms of
violence were preplanned. It does indicate, however, that tensions over
Zionism and the Palestine war served as catalysts to the pogrom. On the
other hand, a report submitted to the Direction de l’Intérieur of the
Protectorate immediately after the events emphasized that the pogroms

were carefully planned in advance by nationalist forces. In addition to
launching the above-mentioned economic boycott, anti-Jewish slogans
were painted on buildings throughout the city. Just prior to the pogroms
Muslim school principals were urged not to conduct classes on 7 June,
an unusual request for a Monday morning. Furthermore, peasants from
Oudjda s countryside entered the city on that day carrying their reaping-
hooks and other utensils; they seemed to have been organized in ad
vance. Swelling their ranks were Algerian Muslims who arrived by train
from Mamia. Finally, homes inhabited by Muslims had butterflies painted
on their walls as if to single them out from those of the Jew s.19
The same report described the attacks on the Jews as being carried
out in several sections of the city simultaneously. The assailants broke
down doors, gates, and windows. They burned and destroyed whatever
they could not take with them. Women, children, infants, and the el
derly were attacked indiscriminately. When the pogrom was over, eight
Jews were dead, five hundred were seriously wounded, and at least one
hundred slightly wounded. Property damage was estimated by the report
at five hundred million francs (doubtless an exaggerated figure) while the
estimate for homeless Jews reached nine hundred, many of whom were
housed temporarily in the local Jewish schools.20
In yet another report by Eugène Weill, AIU secretary-general, it was
stated that on 7 June an Oudjdan Jew, a barber, was about to travel to
Mamia in Algeria. At the border between Oudjda and Algeria he was
stopped by a toll collector, a Moroccan Muslim who confiscated certain
chemical products found in his possession. Assisted by several persons,
the official beat up the Jew and allegedly shouted: “here is a Jew carrying
explosives to kill us.” The people who arrived on the scene proceeded to
different parts of Oudjda City and spread the news of the accusation. In
no time a crowd of angry Muslims assembled. Armed with sticks, axes,
and daggers, they attacked every Jew they knew, killing and burning
homes and stores owned by Jews, using gasoline which according to
Weill was stored for that purpose “à l’avance” (in advance). A truck and
other vehicles were brought to different areas to gather stolen goods.
Even the goums and mokhaznis— indigenous policemen— who arrived
one hour after the events occurred, “participated in the pillage” instead
of assisting the French police. Weill maintained that in order to restore
order the French called in the army. But it was too late. Whereas the
unrest and pogroms commenced between 8:00 and 8:25 A.M., the army
did not arrive until 1 1 : 0 0 a . m . During this time span the assailants
dominated the streets of Oudjda.21
Though based on a thorough survey of the events following a fact
finding mission, Weill seems to have contradicted himself by, on the one
hand, noting that the pogroms were directly related to the specific
incident at the Moroccan-Algerian border and then, on the other hands,
hinting that the events were planned in advance.
The pogrom did not end with Oudjda. Based on French Protectorate
data, on the same day, at 7:00 P .M ., rioters from Oudjda drove sixty
kilometers to the phosphate town of Djérada. Upon arrival they spread
false rumors that Jews had attacked Oudjdan Muslims and that Sultan
Muhammad V ordered all good Moroccans to seek vengeance against the
attackers. They then assembled local miners and, accompanied by Djér-
ada’s kh alifa (m akhzan s top official), entered the Jewish neighborhood
— inhabited by 150 people. A systematic massacre took place, with whole
families butchered or severely beaten, for a total of thirty-nine dead and
forty-four wounded. The survivors were evacuated to Oudjda and placed
in temporary housing.22
A similar account about Djérada was presented by Eugène Weill.
Oudjdan nationalists arrived at Djérada and told local miners that Oudj-
da s Jews had set fire to the city s Grand Mosque. According to Weill,
once the riots in Djérada began, the police either ignored the early phase
of the unrest or did not believe it would develop into a pogrom. They
were also short on manpower: only four gendarmes, five police inspec
tors, and several m okhaznis were present on the scene. It was not until
the next day, on the evening of 8 June, that the authorities decided to
evacuate Djérada’s Jewry to Oudjda.23
What was the reaction of the Jews to the pogroms? Jewish leaders in
Oudjda complained that they had no means of defending themselves
throughout eastern Morocco. They lived in constant fear of potential
anti-Jewish violence emanating from Muslims ever since 15 May 1948,
the day the armies of Egypt, Syria, Jordan, and Iraq launched the war
against Israel. Their anxiety was partly attributed to the fact that indige
nous Moroccan policemen, many of whom were nationalist sympathizers,
patrolled integrated neighborhoods and did not demonstrate a friendly
disposition toward them .24
Oudjdan and Djéradan Jews also thought that the French authorities
failed to follow the events leading to the pogroms with great scrutiny.
Brunei was described as one of the main culprits because at the time, on
6 and 7 June, he was away in Tafilalt attending a wedding celebration.
There were those who suspected that he was intentionally absent from
the scene, knowing that an outbreak of violence was imminent. He
probably felt that it may have been wiser to stay away and not be
burdened with the responsibility for the loss of control over a chaotic
situation.2,5 Others considered the possibility that Brunei and the Resi
dency welcomed Muslim anti-Jewish attacks and in fact encouraged them,
the sole aim being to pit Jews against Muslims so as to prove to the world
that the latter were irresponsible and unworthy of their political aspira
tions.26
What was the reaction of the Muslims to the results of the pogroms?
One reliable source reported that “la population arabe dans sa majorité
approuve ce pogrom” (the majority of the Arab population approves of
this pogrom).27 However, m akhzan officials in the region of Oudjda were
astonished and genuinely embarrassed by the conduct of the assailants.
This is best illustrated by their efforts to console the victims’ families to
the extent that they surpassed the gestures made by French functionar
ies. Especially noteworthy was the attitude of Si Muhammad al-HajawT,
the pasha of Oudjda, the Muslim governor who was Brunei's subordi
nate. Known for his pro-French and liberal attitudes, al-Hajaw! met with
every single family victimized. His behavior irritated segments of the
Muslim population. On 11 June, when al-Hajawï attended Friday prayers
at Oudjda’s Grand Mosque, an attempt was made on his life. Suffering
stab wounds he barely survived.28
The nationalists and the communists denied having played any role in
the events. They disclaimed French accusations that their cadres agitated
the miners of Djérada and nearby Khouribga, or that their press ex
ploited anti-Jewish passions during the Palestine war. When the Protec
torate suggested that Moroccan nationalists in collusion with their coun
terparts in the Algerian Mouvement pour le Triomphe des Libertés
Démocratiques (MTLD) masterminded the events on 7 June, several
nationalist groups went so far as to blame the French for the pogroms.29
The Istiqlàl pointed out with some accuracy, however, that there were
Muslims who protected Jews during the pogroms by sheltering them in
their homes.30
Al-cA lam , Istiqlâl's Arabic-language organ, expressed sadness about
the pogroms as well as the attempt on al-Hajawfs life, describing these

as ‘"odious acts.” Nevertheless, the editorial also declared that the Jews
contributed to the unrest because of growing support in their communi
ties for Zionism and Israel.31 The indirect blame on the Jews for the
troubles did indeed originate from top Istiqlâli leaders. Ahmad Balafrej,
the party’s secretary-general, said that the movement demanded the
French to conduct legal investigations to unravel the mysteries behind
the pogroms, but was also quick to note that “Zionist propagandists had
to be aware of the fatal consequences of their actions just as we must
warn our Muslim brethren against troublesome maneuvers.”32
What were some of the French reactions in the wake of the pogroms?
In an extensive report dated 19 June, Brunei stressed that there was no
doubt about the Palestine war being a central factor in the events.
Muslim pride was hurt by the effective military performance of the
Israelis; the creation of a Jewish state in the midst of Arab Islam humili
ated the Moroccans despite the geographical distance of French North
Africa from the Middle East. It was logical for Moroccan Muslims that
the French or the Moroccans had their own flags, but it was unthinkable
that the Jews should have one.33
Brunei wrote that though Muslim-Jewish tensions had been escalating
in 1947-48 and outbursts of violence were foreseen, he was particularly
perturbed by the fact that Oudjda City was the scene of a pogrom. For
many years the two peoples coexisted in a most cordial environment until
the Moroccan press began to ceaselessly accentuate their differences and
to spread disinformation such as about the Jews selling Muslims poison
ous meats and bread. Moreover, there was no doubt in his mind that the
“passage clandestin” (secret crossing) of young Zionists to Algeria via
Oudjda exacerbated an already perilous situation.34
Having gathered ample evidence surrounding the pogroms, Brunei
pointed on 19 June to the different elements who were involved. He
mentioned, first and foremost, the Muslim inhabitants of the dutvârs—
small rural agglomerations and shanty towns around Oudjda— mostly
impoverished Moroccans having fled from economic misery, and Alge
rian Muslims who crossed the border into Oudjda and engaged in the
trafficking of smuggled goods between the two countries. These two
elements emerged as the main force in the looting and killings on 7 June.
Together with phosphate miners in Djérada and Khouribga, some of
these elements were also involved in the massacre at Djérada. There

they did not only kill but mutilated their victims’ bodies.35
According to Brunei, the driving force behind the assailants was the
nationalist movements, notably the Istiqlàl. His assessment in this regard
was identical to conclusions reached by the Protectorate s Direction de
l’Intérieur. Brunei contended that since the end of May 1948 Moroccan
labor unionists, representing Djérada’s miners, and certain nationalist
leaders, combined forces with Messali Hadj’s MTLD to foment anti-
Jewish agitation. Messali’s supporters visited Oudjda frequently, begin
ning in 1945, to solidify Moroccan-Algerian solidarity against the French.
The Algerian emissaries would travel in cabs from Marnia and Tlemcen
until they reached the Moroccan border. Managing to evade the French
police by crossing into Morocco on foot, these activists also participated
in the events of 7 June.36 In this report we find a clear contradiction of
the information contained in Brunei’s cable to Juin, dated 7 June, in
which he supposed that the pogroms grew out of an isolated incident.
Under pressure from Moroccan Jewish communal leaders, the French
conducted investigations into the pogroms, arrested the main assailants,
and organized trials in military tribunals. Thirty-five men faced trial early
in 1949 over the events in Oudjda. On 11 February 1949, the following
verdicts were handed down: Muhammad cAbd al-Salàm Zerkawl and his
brother Rahall Ben Muhammad were sentenced to death; Ben Yunis Ben
Ahmad was sentenced to twenty years’ imprisonment in hard labor while
Mubammad Ben cAbd ’Allah, cAlàl Ben Hajj, Muhammad Ben cAmara,
and Muhammad Walîd Mawlày Ahmad each received ten years’ impris
onment in hard labor, and fines of 12,000 francs each. Others received
prison sentences ranging from three to five years in hard labor, and
paying fines of 1,000-12,000 francs. Among them were Muhammad Ben
Harafi, cAbd ’Allah Ben cAbd ’Allah, Mubarak Ben Hamid, Sa cdl Mu
hammad, and Ahmad Ben Muhammad Ben Yahia. Twenty-two defen
dants were acquitted.37
The Istiqlàl’s disavowal of any wrongdoing notwithstanding, the French
authorities reported on 23 February 1949 that, from the beginning of the
trial, the Istiqlàl raised money on behalf of the defendants in Casablanca,
Rabat, Salé, Fez, Meknès, and Oudjda. More than two million francs
were collected from the start of the new year.38 Part of this amount was
allocated for a separate trial for the accused from Djérada, although it
should be remembered that several of the assailants facing trial related to

the pogroms in Oudjda were also active in the events at Djérada.
Regarding the trial for the Djérada affair, the sentences pronounced
by the military tribunal of Casablanca were surprisingly mild. Not only
were short-term prison sentences handed down, but the death penalty
was not imposed. Considering that the Djérada pogrom was the harsher
of the two pogroms, with thirty-nine deaths, the indignation of the
Jewish and European populations over the results of that trial was aroused.
Their representatives complained to the Residency that the Protectorate
had not conducted sufficiently in-depth investigations into the events.39
We have been unsuccessful in ascertaining if the verdicts were imple
mented and if those sent to prison served their sentence to the fullest.
On the other hand, we have partial data about the financial assistance
accorded to the victims. By October 1948 the Jewish community council
of Oudjda had allocated 6,664,901.55 francs for this purpose. The French
municipal services undertook the task of rebuilding damaged homes and
other properties in the amount of 1,000,000 francs. The Protectorate also
allocated to Oudjdas Jewish community the sum of 4,681,300 francs as a
special subsidy (out of this amount the Residency provided 1,400,000
francs whereas the municipal services and other French agencies granted
3,281,300 francs). A fund-raising campaign was organized in Morocco s
major cities by the French authorities in which 1,809,079 francs were
collected.40 Furthermore, by September-October 1948, the Jewish com
munities of Casablanca, Meknès, Marrakesh, Rabat, Salé, Fez, Safi,
Sefrou, Mazagan, Settat, Fedala, Essaouira, and Agadir collected for
Oudjdan and Djéradan Jewry the total sum of 875,000 francs.41
It seems that the combined effort of the authorities and the Jewish
communities fell far short of the funds needed. By the end of 1948
Oudjda’s community leadership submitted to the French Protectorate an
additional request for financial support, exceeding previous donations. It
was estimated by Oudjda’s Jews that damage to places of business,
including loss of stock and goods, reached 34,566,736 francs; damage to
homes stood at 37,856,775 francs, including furniture, personal effects,
and valuables. All in all, they requested 72,423,511 francs.
Brunei challenged these “exaggerated estimates” and concluded that,
if any additional monies were to be disbursed, these should not exceed
20,000,000 francs.42 Our data do not indicate whether or not the French
also allocated to the Jews sums of money ranging from 20,000,000 to

72,423,511 francs.
The evidence presented reveals that political motives, particularly
Zionism, the Palestine war, and clandestine caliyay contributed to the
tragedy. I do not believe that we can state definitively whether the
events erupted spontaneously, emerged out of isolated incidents, or were
planned in advance. However, while the sources available provide con
tradictory and inconclusive information, it does seem that in Oudjda, at
least, diverse nationalist forces, Istiqlàli sympathizers included, either
provoked the pogroms and even helped organize them, or they escalated
tensions among the Muslims— in the period immediately prior to 7 June.
It does not appear that top Istiqlàli leaders were directly involved or
were the behind-the-scenes perpetrators on 7 June. Yet having launched
anti-Zionist and, occasionally, anti-Semitic attacks on the Jews in their
press since 1947, they too share in the responsibility for what eventually
happened. The possibility that Algerian nationalists, essentially Messali's
supporters, were involved is likely, for his nationalist ideology was noto
riously anti-Semitic and fervently supportive of the Arab struggle in
Palestine since the late 1920s.
It is impossible to determine what role, if any, French officials or anti-
Semitic European residents of Morocco played in encouraging anti-Jew
ish activity during 1947-48. Our sources do not provide a trace of evi
dence that the French intentionally welcomed Muslim-Jewish animosity
in order to demonstrate that the Muslims were irresponsible and unwor
thy of self-rule. On the other hand, it does not appear that the French
considered contingency plans to confront potential pogroms and to lessen
tensions. They did not afford ample protection to the Jews in 1948, even
though Juin, Brunei, the regional head of Fez General Laparra, and the
officials at the political section of the Direction de l'Intérieur monitored
very closely the rise of tensions. As one French report suggested after 7
June: in April 1948 the authorities knew that Moroccan Muslims called
for revenge against local Jews in the aftermath of the “Deir Yassin Affair.”
At that time, the ’Irgun (the Yishuv's ’Irgun Tsva’e Le’umi of Zionism's
Revisionist movement) attacked the Arab village of Deir Yassin near
Jerusalem, killing many women and children.
Illeg alcAliya in the Pogrom’s Aftermath
As we mentioned previously, from mid-June 1948 until the beginning of

1949, the caliya continued. Many sought visas for Algeria or France
although their final destination was Israel. Those who were well con
nected with the French and m akhzan administrations, or were well-to-
do, usually encountered little resistance from the authorities in getting
the necessary documents legally. They had the means to travel and were
able to provide ample information as to their places of “final destination”
in Algeria or France. Quite frequently they supplied the authorities with
work permits or employment contracts issued in France as well as de
tailed medical records. According to General Laparra, their medical
records sometimes indicated that they required the kind of medical
treatment available only in France. Laparra and his subordinates were
unable to question these data, for the physicians treating these persons
were apparently bribed to confirm everything when called upon by the
authorities.43
The majority of the Jews, however, attempted to leave by opting for
the following: bribing French and Moroccan officials; obtaining fake doc
uments through the Zionist underground, the Mossad LecAliya,44 and
perhaps other sources; and trying to flee Morocco without documents.
As already noted, they usually fled the country with the help of the
Zionist underground, or on their own, or by enlisting the services of
experienced smugglers. They departed through Casablanca, the Interna
tional Zone of Tangier, and by attempting to reach Oudjda to cross into
Algeria. Had the French in Algeria not allowed the Moroccan Jewish
emigrants to be transferred legally to Marseilles, beginning in September
1948, a very serious refugee problem would have developed. As Karoz
remarked, once the thousands of Jews arrived in Marseilles they were
organized for departure to Israel.45 Conversely, the French in Morocco
continued to resist Jewish infiltration into Algeria.46
The Jews wishing to leave included numerous tailors, watchmakers,
shoemakers, carpenters, and goldsmiths. In 1947-49 they were either
unemployed or partially employed and, consequently, determined to
leave for Israel in order to escape the economic crisis plaguing the
country.47 After the pogroms it was no longer necessary for clandestine
Zionist organizations inside Morocco to stimulate the exodus. As the
Moroccan Jewish Emigrants in 1947— Escapees via Algeria (courtesy of the

Organization of the Former North African Underground Activists in Israel).
F re n ch authorities in Rabat ob served , during the latter half of 1 948 Israel

and the Zionist organizations w ere no longer eag er to hasten em igration
from M orocco on a large scale because of Israel's em igrant absorption
problem s. T he Jew ish A gency p referred to curb the Ca liy a of en tire
families including infants and the elderly. H ow ever, the em igration had
its own dynam ics, going beyond the wishes of the W orld Zionist O rgani
zation, th e Mossad L e cAliya, and the Jew ish A g en cy .48
Those em igrants who w ere stopped by the authorities justified their
action by giving family, health, and econ om ic reasons for th eir d epartu re.
Som e w ere aged seven teen to tw enty, in excellent physical condition,
ready for military service in Israel. Each group of emigrants was made
up of six to seven persons headed by a leader carrying with him large
sums of money. In one specific case, a group leader from somewhere in
central Morocco had 42,000 francs in his possession. The money may
have been provided by the underground. These emigrants originally
boarded a train to Fez. To evade the surveillance of the trains they
proceeded in cabs from Fez to Oudjda before being caught. The French
gen darm erie and agents of the C on trôle Civil established checkpoints
and erected barricades at Saidia, Martimprey, Taza, Moulouya, and
Guercif— the most common routes used by the emigrants from central
Morocco to reach Oudjda.49
The emigrants who successfully reached Oudjda frequently contacted
members of the local Jewish community. According to French sources,
Oudjdan Jews assisted by placing them temporarily with Jewish families
until their departure. While there, the emigrants faced dangerous chal
lenges hitherto unforeseen. For example, if they did not cross the border
independently or with the assistance of different Zionist groups, but
relied on Muslim smugglers, the risks they took were immense. Alge
rians for the most part, the smugglers who lived close to the Moroccan
border, would slip into Morocco with fake Moroccan passports and lais
sez-passer documents to be sold to the emigrants. They then assisted in
smuggling them into Algeria for 2,500 francs per individual. If misunder
standings developed between the two parties over money matters, and
such situations were not uncommon, the smugglers could, and some
times did, turn them over to the French Moroccan authorities, emerging
as heroes in the eyes of the Muslims.50
The French in Morocco relied on a network of informants in the
Jewish communities about would-be clandestine emigrants. Protectorate
sources suggest that Jews of the more affluent stratum and unidentified
communal leaders sometimes informed them concerning plans for caliya.
The informants were hostile toward emigration, fearing that the process
would not only depopulate the communities, but could render them
politically vulnerable before the Muslims.51
As clandestine caliya gained momentum the Muslims continued to
register their complaints before the Residency. Si M’Barek Bekkai, the
pasha of Sefrou, regarded the emigration as open provocation. In the
past, Bekkaï argued, the Muslims of Sefrou could count on the French to
apprehend at least several of the emigrants and impose a one-month
prison sentence on them. This policy, however, had been inconsistent

and the Jews continued to attempt their escape into Algeria.52 Both
Bekkaï and Dessaigne, the local French c h e f du cercle, concurred that
the situation of Sefrou's Jewry was becoming perilous, for unlike other
areas where the Jews were a small minority, in Sefrou they constituted
one-third of the total population. In view of the Sefrou community's size,
even the mere procedure of organizing clandestine *aliya was bound to
become public knowledge and to unleash Muslim hatred.53
Nonetheless, by the end of December 1948, the French were begin
ning to sense a decline in Muslim opposition to caliya. Some officials
attributed this development to the defeat of the Arab armies at the hands
of Israel and to rumors that a peaceful settlement in the Middle East was
forthcoming. Brunei went so far as to remark that “The Muslims are now
demonstrating almost complete indifference [to emigration] and are happy
to repeat that the departure of the Jews from Morocco will not contribute
much to the Jewish state, and quite to the contrary, Morocco would be
rid of quantities of undesirables.'54
Moreover, at the beginning of 1949, the French claimed that emigra
tion was diminishing. One source indicated that Moroccan Jews who
reached Israel encountered serious socioeconomic hardships and ethnic
discrimination. Their families in Morocco learned of their conditions and
the enthusiasm for caliya was dissipating.55 A more substantive source
revealed that the emigrant reception centers in France and Italy, jointly
administered by the AJDC and the Jewish Agency, were congested and
could no longer absorb many more people. More than at any previous
time, the Jewish Agency was now determined to halt additional tides of
uncontrollable emigration from around the world and to select emigrants
in accordance with social and health criteria.56 The source added that the
Prefecture in Marseilles warned the French government that as the
Israelis were apparently incapable of handling the integration into their
young nation of persons stranded at the transit camps in France, the
prolonged stay of many emigrants on French soil would pose serious
problems for French society.57 Be that as it may, though caliya may have
declined in intensity toward the beginning of 1949, it was probably a
brief respite before additional emigration movements would commence.
For, all in all, Moroccan Jews thought at the time that their future in
Morocco was most uncertain.
A New French Policy toward QAliya: The Opening

,
o f the Gates December 1948-July 1949
Francis Lacoste was perhaps the fiercest opponent of the caliya from
Morocco. In a report to Robert Schuman, French minister for foreign
affairs, Lacoste related that many Jewish youths had clandestinely fled
via Oudjda to Algeria and their main objective was to join the Israel
Defense Forces in the fight against the Arabs. According to him, this
emigration was partly military in nature; these young men were usually
physically fit and suited for military service in Israel; moreover, they
were instructed by local underground Zionist organizers and smugglers
as to what to say if captured at the border by the police and interrogated.
This movement had to be stopped.58
By Decem ber 1948, however, the French in Morocco realized that,
despite the numerical fluctuations in the caliy a, the illegal activity could
not be completely stopped. As a result, the Residency was searching for
a way to establish contacts with Jewish organizations in order to end the
underground activities and find a suitable formula for legal or semilegal
emigration under French supervision. Indeed, in December 1948, Marc
Jarblum, a leading French Zionist, visited Morocco. He was affiliated
with the Jewish Agency, the Fédération Sioniste de France, and the
French section of the World Jewish Congress. The purpose of his trip
was twofold: to discuss with the French authorities the prohibition on
Jews leaving Morocco, and to investigate the situation of Moroccan Jewry.
Was Jarblum speaking on behalf of the Jewish Agency in Jerusalem or
the Jewish Agency’s office in Paris? He apparently spoke on behalf of
both since he stated that he represented that body and the Mossad
LecAliya. Did he also intend to speak with the French on behalf of the
World Jewish Congress or the Zionist Federation of France? There are
no answers available.
Late in December 1948 Jarblum met in Rabat with Juin. He told him
that he was speaking on behalf of the Jewish Agency and then broached
the issue of the prohibition on Jews leaving Morocco on the assumption
that they were going to Israel. Juin explained that the decision to prohibit
Jewish emigration had been implemented after the sultan’s insistent
requests on the basis of the following argument: Moroccan Jews were
eager to leave Morocco in order to enlist in the Israel Defense Forces
and fight the Arabs. These Jews, according to Juin’s assessment of the
sultan’s position, did not attempt to conceal their intentions, so that the
Moroccan Muslims felt deeply aggrieved and refused to accept allowing
Jews to leave the country for the purpose of fighting the Muslims in the
Middle East. Moreover, this emigration caused serious incidents and it
was in the best interest of the Jews, the sultan claimed, to keep it quiet.
Consequently, Paris and the Residency, anxious to avert incidents, saw
fit to prohibit Jews from leaving Morocco. But this policy had proved
inoperative.59
Juin’s explanation to Jarblum as to why Jews suddenly sought to flee
Morocco in 1947-48 centered on both emotional and socioeconomic
causes. It was a mystical movement as well as panic that impelled them
to escape their m ellàhs; of the 250,000 Jews throughout Morocco, he did
not think that he was exaggerating when he suggested that 200,000 would
leave for Israel if given the opportunity to do so.60
Jarblum indicated that Juin understood the aspirations of the Jews. In
Morocco they regarded themselves as pariahs, despised and, not infre
quently, mistreated, while in Israel they envisaged the possibility of
freedom. Furthermore, there seemed to be no long-range future for
them in Morocco. A small minority of Moroccan Jews had left the m ellàhs
and dwelt in the European districts of Fez, Meknès, Rabat, Marrakesh,
and Casablanca, where they engaged in the liberal professions or large-
scale commerce. Yet the bulk of them lived in crowded m ellàhs, in a
state of utter physical, material, and moral destitution. The mystic urge
to go to Israel and the desire to escape social and economic misery were
therefore quite understandable.61
Jarblum pointed out to Juin that the ban on leaving Morocco made
matters worse. If these people knew they could leave whenever they
wished, there would be no wild rush, no selling of property at any price,
no clandestine activity. Each individual or family would wait its turn and
it would be possible for the Jewish Agency to organize the emigration
process, select emigrants based on health and social criteria, and arrange
the necessary preliminaries for the journey to Marseilles and then to
Israel.62
Juin admitted these difficulties to Jarblum and suggested that in D e
cember 1948 the Moroccan Muslims were manifesting considerably less
interest in emigration than earlier, for peace in the Middle East was in
sight and it no longer seemed reasonable to claim that Jews were leaving
in order to fight the Arabs. Furthermore, the Arab defeat in Palestine,

apparent at the time, was a devastating blow to the Arab League, as well
as a victory for Israel and France. The m akhzan , too, Juin asserted, had
begun to adopt a more realistic view of the situation as a result, and
feared less the influence and possible political pressure of the League
over such matters as Jewish emigration. Therefore, the resident-general
said he would be prepared to consider the delivery of a certain number
of regular exist visas and asked Jarblum whether he could state a number
for Morocco that would seem reasonable to the Residency and the French
government. Jarblum observed that Israel hoped to receive 300,000
emigrants in 1949 and it was reasonable that 30,000 emigrants per year
(2,500 per month) from Morocco alone would not be too high a figure.
To this Juin replied that 10 percent was not a very high ratio, but 30,000
people seemed rather unreasonable. He would, however, consider the
matter.63
It is interesting that Jarblum had a long discussion with Lacoste who,
in addition to his functions mentioned earlier, was the delegate for
Moroccan affairs at the Residency. His views of emigration, according to
Jarblum, was similar to Juin’s. Lacoste too had noted that tension had
eased in Morocco as a result of “the defeat of the Arab League.” The
consummation of this defeat was to have an extremely beneficial effect
on Jewish emigration.64
We have no way of ascertaining whether all Juin’s concerns were
expressed in his conversation with Jarblum. Was fear of adverse reaction
emanating from m akhzan and nationalist circles the main reason for
banning emigration in 1947-48? Or did the French also see the Jews as a
positive pro-French element to be relied upon to strengthen the Resi
dency if and when a nationalist struggle took place?
In any case, two points seem clear. First, the Residency realized that
the illegal outflow of Jews could not be stopped. Second, Lacoste ap
peared to have changed his basic position on emigration between Au-
gust-Septem ber and December 1948. On 3 June 1949, Lacoste received
a letter from Foreign Minister Schuman, who brought to Lacoste’s atten
tion that Jewish emigration to Israel via Marseilles was causing great
problems. However, in contrast to his position less than one year earlier,
he tried to convince Schuman that it would not be prudent to halt the
emigration. He put the following argument:
It would not be just to prevent young and healthy Moroccan Jews from emigrat
ing and to confine them to profound social and economic misery in the mellàhs.
The only future they would have for improving their lot would be in Israel, which
we are going to recognize as having the right to become a member of the family
of nations.65
Besides, Lacoste reminded Schuman that France had adhered to Article

fifty-five of the United Nations Charter as to Article thirteen, Paragraph
two, of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights adopted at the end of
1948 by the United Nations General Assembly. Therefore, while France
and the Residency at Rabat could control the flow of emigration and go
so far as to limit and restrict it, banning it altogether was inadvisable.66
In addition to demonstrating an inclination during the Jarblum visit,
toward the end of 1948, to support a policy change on emigration, Juin
went further still in an interview with Ralph Spanien, one of the heads of
the Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society (HIAS) in France. Spanien had
cultivated intimate ties with the Residency during the mid-1940s when
emigration agencies were engaged in transporting Jewish refugees from
Central Europe via Casablanca. In January 1949, he tried to develop a
modus vivendi with Juin to legalize emigration, including that of special
youth caliya. The French declared themselves prepared to consider
Spanien’s suggestion that they grant Jews passports. While youth caliya
via France had to be carried out gradually, with three hundred youths
leaving periodically, discretion also had to be exercized regarding future
emigration of adults. The French, according to Spanien, believed that
semi-official emigration under their control would enable them to release
an army of policemen whose assignment had been to stop clandestine
emigration. O f course, this was a sensitive project involving strict selec
tion of emigrants to be handled by representatives of Zionist movements.
But Spanien indicated that the French were ready to facilitate the emi
gration of 1,500 to 2,000 Jews per month to Israel via France. This was
on condition that there be absolute discretion, no official contact be
tween the Zionist movements and the Residency, and that the handling
of the operation be entrusted to HIAS, whose techniques and prestige
were well known to them .67
It appears that Spanien was acting on his own without formal approval
from the Mossad Le cAliya or the Jewish Agency. This resulted in major
quarrels and misunderstandings between these organizations and HIAS,
with the Jewish Agency increasingly leaning toward granting any future
role in organizing emigration from Morocco to Israel to the Mossad Le
cAliya. It is also quite obvious that the Residency preferred a non-Zionist
Jewish body to conduct the emigration process. At the same time, the
Residency did not rule out granting the Jewish Agency this role, whether
directly through its own personnel or through its functional agency, the
Mossad Le cAliya.
Additional contacts between the local Zionist Organization, with head
quarters in Casablanca, and the Residency, revealed that the French
were on the verge of reaching an agreement. Commenting on Jarblum’s
request to Juin to allow 30,000 Jews a year to leave Morocco, Spanien
did not think Juin would consent to the departure of more than 18,000 a
year. Furthermore, it seemed likely that the French would not favor the
departure of the ‘'best elem ents,” the educated and the affluent.68 In
fact, both Jarblum and Spanien’s proposed figures for future emigration
were unrealistic. In the final analysis, the French in 1949-50 would not
agree in any circumstances to caliya running between 18,000 and 30,000
per year.
The turning point occurred on 7 March 1949, in the course of a
meeting between Juin and Jacques Gershuni who introduced himself as
a representative of the Jewish Agency in France. The sources describe
him as a personality close to the Mossad Le cAliya in France and its chief
director, Yosef Barpal; an activist within the Fédération Sioniste de
France; and a militant member of the left-wing labor-oriented Po cale
Tsiyon/Mapai. During the meeting, Juin and Gershuni laid the ground
work for a program that would once and for all put an end to illegal
emigration.69 Was there a direct link between the Jarblum/Spanien ini
tiative and Gershuni’s visit? It certainly appears that the previous con
tacts constituted a stimulus for entering into serious negotiations in
March 1949. Yet it is not at all certain that either Jarblum or Spanien was
directly responsible for the final achievement of semi-official or tolerated
caliya from Morocco.
In any case, following the Juin-Gershuni meeting, the latter dis
patched a letter70 to the resident-general which contained the following
stipulations:
1. Disorganized emigration would end. The Jewish Agency would con

duct orderly emigration to Israel with even monthly quotas.
2. France would profit from Jewish emigration from Morocco to Israel,

for French-speaking Jews settling in the Middle East could assist
France in spreading its cultural and political influence there.
3. The Jewish Agency would introduce effective selection measures in
sofar as social and health criteria were concerned.
4. A special emigration bureau would be created in Casablanca to pro
cess the emigrants. It would function under the guise of a social
welfare society and would be administered by emigration experts who
would be capable of operating with the utmost discretion.
5. The emigration bureau would cooperate very closely with the Resi
dency in Rabat.
6. The requests for visas would be forwarded to Rabat and the emigra
tion bureau would be responsible for their proper distribution.
Gershuni emphasized that the idea of semi-official or tolerated caliya

activity was not to “liquidate” Moroccan Jewry in a time span of two to
three years but to lay the foundation for continuing caliya that would
depend on a variety of circumstances and financial resources. Should the
French feel that this process would cause them embarrassment vis-à-vis
the Muslims, or other inconveniences, then Jewish emigration would, of
course, stop. Gershuni took it upon himself to transfer the emigrants via
Casablanca to Marseilles.71
Subsequent contacts between March and July 1949, carried out with
the utmost discretion and possibly but not necessarily with the makhzan s
approval, resulted in two major developments of historic significance. In
the first place, in April the French permitted Gershuni to create Cadima,
an caliya organization whose life span extended well into 1956, several
months after Morocco was granted independence. Tens of thousands of
Jews emigrated through Cadima during its existence. Secondly, whereas
Gershuni had requested a starting monthly emigration quota of between
1,500 and 2,000, the French approved only six hundred; and only Jews
living in the major urban cities were authorized to emigrate while Jews
in the hied apparently could not depart in the early phases of caliya “until
further notice.”72 With rare exception, illegal emigration was over by the
middle of 1949.
Cadima’s headquarters were situated until 1955 at 13, Rue du Lieu-
tenant-Bergé and after that at Rue Lieutenant-de-Vaisseau-Yves-Gay, in
the European section of Casablanca. Local caliya committees and/or
Jewish Schoolchildren and their Rabbi-Teachers in the Atlas Mountains: The

Community of Tazenakht (author’s personal collection).
office b ranches w ere then established by the early 1950s in the m ajor
Jew ish com m unities (Rabat, Salé, M eknès, M arrakesh, F e z , Essaouira,
and Safi), com posed of local Zionists who assisted the cen tral C asablanca
office in registering potential em igrants. B etw een 1949 and 1 9 5 6 m anage
m ent of the C asablanca office was en tru sted to G ershuni (1949), Sarny
H alevy (1 9 4 9 -5 1 ) who was sent by the M ossad L e cAliya which had
b ecom e responsible for C adim a, Shaul G u etta (1951), Z e5 ev Khaklai
(1 9 5 2 - 5 5 ), and Amos Rabl ( 1 9 5 5 - 5 6 ) — all but the first being Israelis.73
G ershuni and H alevy w ere instructed to p resen t them selves publicly
as d elegates o f the Jew ish A gency and not the M ossad L e cAliya, while
C adim a was registered with the F re n ch in Rabat not only as an organiza
tion providing social services, but as a com pany for distributing books.74
D oubtless, Cadim a, under the supervision o f the Mossad L e cAliya e m
issary, was subordinate to the Jew ish Agency's Im m igration D ep artm en t
in Jerusalem and to its em issaries in F ra n ce . A lter the M ossad L e cAliya
was officially dism antled in Israel (M arch 1952), the local C adim a op era
tion was directly adm inistered by the Jew ish Agency em issaries (Khaklai
and Rabl) until 1 9 5 6 .70 Alongside the C asablanca and o th er branches of
Cadim a, this apparatus included a transit cam p tw enty-six kilom eters
outside the city on the Mazagan Road, which was m eant to provide
temporary residence for emigrants coming from remote parts of the

country who were registered for caliya and passed the selection criteria.
Between 1949 and 1951, the Cadima operation and the travel expenses
to Marseilles, and then to Israel, were covered by the AJDC, although
in subsequent years this became the responsibility of the Jewish Agency.
Between 1949 and 1956, then, emigrants were sent from Casablanca to
Marseilles as well as,76 between 1949 and 1950, via Algeria where transit/
medical treatment camps had existed on a semi-official basis.77
Part Two
Political Developments from the

Late 1940s to the Early 1990s
C h a p ter 4
Emigration to Israel in the Shadow

of Morocco s Struggle for
Independence, 1 9 49-1956
As noted, beginning in 1948-49, France was one of the main centers for
processing caliya; Italy was another. At the time the Jewish Agency’s
Immigration Department also opened one of its most important opera
tions in Marseilles. Even prior to 1948-49, several major Jewish Agency
and he-Haluts (an apparatus responsible for training Zionist pioneer
youths for life in Israel) branches were created in Paris or Marseilles, or
in both regions. France served as a convenient center for the Mossad Le
cAliya and the Jewish Agency in Jerusalem to maintain contact with caliya
organizations in Morocco, Tunisia, and Algeria. What is more, the emis
saries dispatched to these countries on behalf of their movements in
Israel or the Mossad LecAliya and Jewish Agency, usually arrived in
France first in order to obtain the necessary legal documentation and
visas to operate in the French North African colonial sphere.
Between May and 31 Decem ber, 1948, 39,137 Jews emigrated to
Israel through Marseilles; during 1 January-31 December, 1949, 64,160
emigrated; and between 1 January and 31 December 1950, 17,327 emi
grated— for a total of 120,624 persons, many of them from North Africa.
The Immigration Department of the Jewish Agency in Marseilles in
tended to function as the caliya gate to Israel of North African and
Egyptian Jewry, but also of European Jews, notably from Sweden, France,
Norway, Switzerland, Holland, England, and Belgium. Special caliya
transit and medical treatment camps were established in Marseilles fol
117
118 Morocco*s Struggle for Independence
lowing the end of World War II. In 1949, there were nineteen camps; in
March 1951, only four of the camps were still operating: Grande Arenas,
David, Saint Jerome, and Eilat. Grande Arenas became the most impor
tant transit/medical camp whereas Eilat and David were about to close
down. Until 1951 the AJDC supported the camps financially and admin
istered them in partnership with the Jewish Agency. After January 1951
the AJDC surrendered its financial control of the camps to the Jewish
Agency. The staff at the camps was largely composed of the emigrants
while the camps’ officers, physicians, and teachers were Israelis. The
reduction in the number of transit camps was due to the decline in the
caliya from the European continent and the concentration on North
Africa.1
C a d im a : T h e cA liy a P r o c e s s a n d F r e n c h P olicy
Cadima’s operational headquarters in Casablanca not only maintained

contacts with its branches and caliya commissions of Morocco’s major
cities. It also cooperated closely with the Sirtam Travel Agency in Casa
blanca, owned by one Madame Tordjman, a Zionist activist. Sirtam was
connected with maritime companies, among them Oceana and Paquet.
Paquet, a French firm headquartered in Marseilles, had a long-standing
arrangement with Cadima from the late 1940s onward. As the AJDC
assumed much of the financial responsibility for the caliya through Cad
ima— in 1949-50 and then again in 1 955-56— its data on the cost of
emigration p e r em igrant in U.S. dollars is the most reliable for these
critical times. For example, in November 1955, the expenses per emigrant2
were as follows:
1. Overland Transport in Morocco from Different Regions to Cadi-

mas Camp near Casablanca $2.57
2. Maintenance Costs in Cadima s Transit Camps $5.02
3. Sea Transport by Paquet’s Ships to Marseilles $19.59
4. Maintenance Costs in Marseilles/Grande Arenas $13.70
5. Transport from Marseilles to the Port of Haifa, including luggage $69.19
Total $110.07
How did the recruitment and screening process of the would-be emi
grants function in Morocco? According to Ze5 ev Khaklai, Cadima’s direc
Morocco s Struggle for Independence 119
tor in 1952-55, as late as 1953 Cadimas assistants— local Moroccan

Zionists— were either approached by caliya candidates or approached
them through the organizations local branches. Cadimas personnel would
then determine which individuals or families were suitable for emigration
based on social criteria: age, number of able-bodied breadwinners, and
number of dependents. The candidates would arrive later at one of a
dozen centers where local physicians, mainly European residents re
cruited by Cadima, conducted medical examinations.3
In the early 1950s, when Cadima had already extended its work into
parts of the b le d , most small towns and villages had neither physicians
at hand nor X-ray equipment. Cadima arranged for the transport of the
villagers to the examination centers, a most cumbersome and incon
venient process for these candidates, considering that they sometimes
traveled as many as two hundred kilometers in each direction. The
candidates' health records were sent to Casablanca where an Israeli
physician, working with Cadima but representing Israel’s Ministry of
Health, determined which candidates were eligible health-wise for
caliya.4
The screening policy, known as social/medical selection, became offi
cial on 27 November 1951, when the Coordinating Commission (ha-
Mossad le-Te5 um)— created in 1950 in Jerusalem, composed of Jewish
Agency department heads and Israeli cabinet ministers, responsible for
formulating directives on caliya and emigrant absorption— adopted it for
the following countries: Morocco, Tunisia, Algeria, Turkey, India, Iran,
Central and Western Europe. The stipulations in this policy provided
that: (1) 80 percent of the emigrants would be chosen among youth caliya
(cAliyat ha-No car), members of Zionist pioneer youth movements intend
ing to settle in agricultural areas, members of the vocational trades up to
age thirty-five (later revised to forty-five), and families which had at least
one breadwinner not younger than eighteen and not older than forty-
five; (2) except for professionals and businessmen, or those who could
provide housing for their families, potential emigrants had to agree in
writing to work within the agricultural sector during their first two years
in Israel; (3) caliya would be possible only following a thorough medical
examination; (4) 20 percent of all emigrants could be over thirty-five
years old provided they belonged to families that had a young and an
employable breadwinner.5 If within a family handicapped persons were
discovered, the whole family was able to depart as long as they were not
120 Morocco s Struggle for Independence
afflicted by contagious or incurable diseases. The mentally ill were re

jected automatically.
Once approved for emigration, the candidates were transported to
Cadima s Camp Eliahu near Casablanca. In 1953 the camp had an ab
sorption capacity of eight hundred persons. The emigrants were inte
grated into the camp where they underwent additional medical tests and
treatment for ailments such as trachoma— a chronic and sometimes con
tagious conjunctivitis marked by inflammatory granulations on the con
junctival surface, and commonly resulting in blindness— or for ring
worm, a common condition among North African youths. The caliya was
often delayed and the emigrants had to stay in the camp for weeks, even
months. Frequently, when the medical examiners in the various regional
centers failed to diagnose incurable diseases or tuberculosis, the emi
grants, already in the camp, were rejected for caliy a. Because many
families were close-knit and refused to be split up in the last moment
between eligible and ineligible emigrants, whole families protested and
stayed in Morocco. If the caliya process was relatively smooth, then
Cadima would assist in distributing passports to the emigrants. The next
phase consisted of sailing from Casablanca to Marseilles to complete the
caliy a.6
Maurice Carr, a journalist who witnessed the selection screening
procedure in the earliest stages, recounted in 1951:
The screening process is a nerve-wrecking business. . . . The men, women and

children arrive well-washed and in their Sabbath finery for this occasion. . . .
Since birth certificates were a thing unknown until a couple of years ago, no
family head admits to being above forty-five and no youth to being under eigh
teen. . . . Some of the rowdiest and most pathetic scenes occur when an aged
and widowed mother, or elderly parents whose sons and daughters have pre
ceded them to Israel, are turned away because the thoughtlessly drafted regula
tions require that a family breadwinner be on hand in the Diaspora at the time of
application. The old folk weep and shout, demanding why they, who may have
sons in Israel, in the army, be penalized as against other people whose children
are still in Morocco. . . . When asked to state his trade, the breadwinner almost
invariably replies, “I can do anything," and when further pressed, adds that he is
a cobbler or a tailor or a peddler, or confesses that he has no trade. To ingratiate
himself, he will give the Israelis behind the table a military salute or throw
himself forward to kiss their hands. . . . And then comes the most awesome day
of judgement; the final decision is taken by a panel headed by a doctor sent over
from the Israel Ministry of Health. . . . The families are not told immediately
what the outcome of the selection is; but they always guess, infallibly. The
Morocco's Struggle for Independence 121
rejected ones often dissolve in tears, fly into fits of rage. As I watched these
scenes, and I attended a dozen such selections, I was moved as never before. It
needs supreme callousness to remain dry-eyed.7
O f course, Israel s absorption struggles in 1948-54, including serious

economic and housing problems, required that irrespective of the Law of
Return (1950), whereby every Jew had the right to settle in Israel, the
policies of fixed monthly or yearly caliya quotas and médicosocial screen
ing policies be enforced. Moreover, Israel of the pre-1954 period could
not contend effectively with the integration of emigrants who were af
flicted by contagious or incurable diseases, for the country’s medical
resources and hospitalization facilities were limited at best. The excep
tion to the rule related to Yemeni, Iraqi, and Romanian Jewry who
benefited from larger emigration quotas. The authorities in these coun
tries agreed to let the Jews leave and thus the Jewish Agency and the
Mossad Le cAliya realized that caliya from Yemen, Iraq, and Romania
was a “now or never’’ situation— a rescue operation. If the Jews were
suddenly prevented from leaving they could face horrible pogroms. On
the other hand, until the nationalist struggle for independence from
French colonialism gained momentum in North Africa, and this began in
1954, it was felt in Israel that policies of emigrant screening/selection and
lower quotas were the most efficient measures to adopt for an orderly
departure. French colonialism was still very much in control and the
Mossad Le cAliya/Jewish Agency could function semilegally or discreetly
in Morocco, Tunisia, and Algeria. Consequently there was no rush for an
immediate evacuation or a rescue policy.
When surveying the Moroccan Jewish population, the screening per
sonnel and Israel’s Ministry of Health had both positive and negative
assessments. In 1953, for instance, Dr. S. Batish, the director of the
Israel Ministry of Health, accumulated vital data on potential emigrants
and on the médicosocial conditions in the communities. O f the 250,000
Jews throughout Morocco, about 40,000 lived in 120-130 villages and
small towns in the b le d . Moroccan Jewry were young: those fourteen
years old and under constituted 43 percent of the population whereas
those in the age category of fifteen to forty-five comprised another 42
percent. Only 15 percent of the Jewish population were over forty-five.
However, the health conditions in the m ellàhs were poor and though
many Jews during the Protectorate era abandoned the ghettos for the
new European residential districts, the majority still dwelt in the m el
làhs. In Taroudant of the Ante-Atlas mountains, 19.4 percent of the âliya
candidates during 1952-53 were rejected on the basis of the selection
criteria.8
As time elapsed, the Coordinating Commission in Jerusalem and the
Israel Ministry of Health s physician in Morocco tried to moderate as
pects of the screening/selection policies. For example, severely handi
capped persons within a family or large numbers of the elderly could
make caliya if they were accompanied by more than one employable
young person.9 However, enabling the severely handicapped or persons
afflicted by mild cases of trachoma to leave for Israel was not much of a
compromise, according to Ze’ev Khaklai. Added to the selection policies,
he said, were French Protectorate policies of not tolerating large-scale
caliya as well as Israel’s low monthly emigration quotas. Urging the
Jewish Agency to hasten caliya from Morocco, especially from the villages
of the bled , Khaklai observed in 1953:
[The conditions of the Jews in the villages] are quite precarious. . . . Today law
and order still prevails, yet no one can predict what tomorrow will bring. [The]
Jews live in a state of uncertainty and in fear and they are dependent on the
goodwill of senior and minor French officials. They are being squeezed out from
their professions as the Muslims are learning the trades of [b led ] Jewry [such as]
shoemaking, harness-making, tailoring, goldsmithy, etc., and they are encroach
ing upon the monopoly enjoyed by the Jews in trade.10
Khaklai reiterated his warnings several months later, this time speaking
about both rural and urban Jewry. At a meeting of Jewish Agency emis
saries in Tel-Aviv on 10 January 1954, he stated that large-scale caliya
and drastic reforms in the emigrant screening process had to be imple
mented because time was running out for Morocco’s Jews: “Arab nation
alism is not the same as European nationalism. If the Arab nationalists
will gain power and I say they will reach this goal, then the fate of the
Jews should be evident [to us].” 11
Khaklai’s pleas did not completely fall on deaf ears. The Coordinating
Commission’s members did support the idea of giving preference in
caliya to the Jewish villagers of southern Morocco and were now inclined
to consider Khaklai’s recommendation of evacuating w hole villages in
remote areas. Only “hard social cases”— criminals and the unemployable
— would be left behind. Regarding medical selection, even the very sick
among the villagers would be taken out as long as they were not afflicted
by contagious diseases. The purpose behind the evacuation of villages
was not limited to potential political and economic problems challenging
the Jews of the bled. It was also because Khaklai convinced the Jewish
Agency that the villagers were “the best elements for Israeli society.”
They were healthier and more robust than their urban counterparts,
productive, and physically capable of engaging in the vocational trades
and agriculture.12
During the summer of 1954, Shlomo Zalman Shragai, the new head of
the Jewish Agency’s Immigration Department, visited Morocco and Tun
isia. Though he thought that the conditions of the Jews in Tunisia,
especially the rural inhabitants, were far worse than in Morocco, due to
the very intensive struggle for nationhood led by supporters of Habib
Bourguiba’s Neo-Destour party, he did not underestimate Khaklai’s as
sessment about Morocco. Furthermore, Moshe Kol, head of cAliyat ha-
No car and Moshe Sharett, then Israel’s prime minister, who, like Shra
gai, were members of the Coordinating Commission, argued strongly for
large-scale evacuation from the Moroccan b led and felt that Morocco in
this case deserved priority over Tunisia.13
As we shall see in chapter 8, Shragai’s assessment was accurate.
Although the Jews in Morocco’s b led were in an unstable atmosphere,
until the end of July 1954 the situation in Tunisia was far worse. Nation
alist versus French tensions in Tunisia were reduced only following the
visit there by French prime minister Pierre Mendès-France on 31 July
and his announcement of Tunisian internal autonomy. Accordingly, the
Jews of Tunisia from that point on were in less danger.14 It was not until
the first week of August that the anti-French nationalist struggle in
Morocco became dangerous for the Jews of the rural and urban regions,
surpassing the challenge faced by their Tunisian brethren.
Whether the members of the Coordinating Commission favored evac
uating as many Jews as possible from the rural areas of Morocco and
Tunisia (the majority favored it) or from the urban agglomerations (a
minority supported this suggestion), as late as the end of July/beginning
of August 1954 no practical steps had until then been adopted to imple
ment evacuation. Interestingly, while the Jews of the Moroccan b led
were eager to leave for Israel, until August 1954 their urban counterparts
were losing their enthusiasm for caliya. After 1952, in light of the harsh
screening/selection policies, emigration quotas, housing shortages, and
124 Morocco’s Struggle for Independence
unemployment in Israel, many Moroccan Jews of the major cities pre

ferred to postpone caliya indefinitely. Moreover, economically, the major
cities witnessed economic growth in 1952-54 as the United States built
bases on their outskirts. The Americans employed numerous Jews for
that purpose and offered them excellent salaries. Hence, Jews who in the
past may have been boycotted economically could find refuge with the
Americans and saw no need to accelerate their caliya process. Finally,
Jews who desired to leave Morocco encountered obstacles in selling their
immovable assets which further hindered the process. Of course, this
problem was less acute in the b le d , considering that property there of
any significant value was virtually nil. Only during the latter half of 1954,
following the intensification of nationalist ferment and once the construc
tion of the American bases had been completed, were urban Jews vulner
able. They feared the repetition of pogroms reminiscent of Oudjda and
Djérada.15
A phenomenon evident among urban Moroccan Jewry in the early
1950s was yerida: the departure from Israel of recent emigrants (yordim )
who wandered to other countries or returned to Morocco. According to
French Protectorate sources, in 1949-53 2,466 Jews came back. Bitter
and disenchanted about Israel’s housing and unemployment problems,
they were equally unhappy with what they regarded as the Jewish state’s
discriminatory attitudes toward Mediterranean basin Jew s.16 Table 8
provides the statistical breakdown of the yerida during this period.
As noted, the attitude toward greater caliya from Morocco gained
considerable momentum beginning in August 1954 when not only Jewish
villagers were in genuine panic but their urbanite counterparts pleaded
with Cadima to evacuate them (see table 9 on caliya between 1949 and
1956). Even the yordim were now eager to give the Jewish state a second
chance.
To better understand the intensity of the anti-French conflict in rela
tion to the Jews the following background information is needed. During
the anti-French struggle, in August 1954, which marked the first anniver
sary of Sultan Muhammad V’s exile by the French to Madagascar for his
pro-nationalist inclinations, terrorism became widespread. At the time a
patchwork of urban terrorist groups had developed in some of the major
cities, not always under the control of the Istiqlàl party. Likewise, rural
bands under the nominal control of the Istiqlàl began to struggle in the
north, eventually showing a clear purpose of pressing the French to
Table 8. Data on Y erida, June 1949-31 Decem ber 1953
Y early
Y ear Ja n . Feb. Mar. Apr. May Ju n e Ju l. Aug. Sept. Oct. Nov. D ec. T otal
1949 — — — — — 17 69 99 10 63 88 33 379
1950 100 — 30 11 13 24 12 5 48 12 21 31 307
1951 33 19 20 29 46 40 31 36 60 18 45 53 430
1952 53 30 44 55 54 37 55 53 40 104 48 32 605
1953 39 23 95 31 15 69 80 53 43 117 89 91 745
Total 225 72 189 126 128 187 247 246 201 314 291 240 2,466
Source: Note au sujet des émigrants Israélites marocains revenus au Maroc après un séjour en Israël, Rabat, 21 décembre 1954, AAE-Nantes, DL/Section Politique.
Table 9. Official French Statistics on cA liy a from Morocco via Casablanca and France, 17 March 1949-April 1956
Month 1949 1950 1951 1952 1953 1954 1955 1956*
January — 414 180 157 160 146 1,469 2,544

February — 225 547 219 288 — 1,910 3,359
March 41 240 368 38 442 136 2,320 2,904
April 35 200 495 350 193 75 1,092 4,073
May — 229 197 591 — 149 718
June 117 314 588 571 302 176 2,008
July — 206 831 925 289 475 2,329
August 395 491 1,171 526 159 1,167 2,527
September 529 127 1,515 575 — 1,757 2,748
October 864 493 405 — 217 1,276 3,990
November 320 244 119 470 130 2,430 3,144
December 406 259 261 210 181 2,190 2,299
T otal 2,707 3,442 6,677 4,632 2,361 9,977 26,554 12,880
All in all 69,230 emigrants.b

Source: AAE-Nantes, DI/809, 811. 813; CZA,S42/256.
“According to Jewish Agency sources, between May and Decem ber 1956, another 2 3 ,427 Moroccan Jews emigrated to Israel. This would suggest that as many as 9 2 ,6 5 7
Moroccan Jews came to Israel in 1 9 49-56.
bThe data published by the Jewish Agency differ to an extent from the French figures. (It is not altogether impossible that the French authorities kept an inaccurate account
on emigration). The figures in parenthesis are those of the Jewish Agency: 2,707 French for 1949 (no specific data for 1949 in Jewish Agency figures, but 8 ,0 0 0 for 1 9 4 8 -4 9 );
3 ,4 4 2 French for 1950 (4,980 Jewish Agency); 6,677 French for 1951 (7,770 Jewish Agency); 4,6 3 2 French for 1952 (5,031 Jewish Agency); 2,361 French for 1953 (2,996
Jewish Agency); 9,977 French for 1954 (8,171 Jewish Agency); 26,554 French for 1955 (24,994 Jewish Agency); the French data for 1956 are incomplete and stop in April
1956, one month after France granted Morocco independence. They amount to 12,880 (Jewish Agency data for 1956 are estimated at 36,301).
bring back Muhammad V and grant the country autonomy (as was done
in Tunisia in 1955) or complete independence.17 At first the French did
not succumb to the pressure of the diverse nationalist forces and placed
the pro-French Muhammad Ben Mawlây cArafa of the Alawite family on
the throne.
On 3 August 1954, in the town of Petitjean, seven Jews were massa
cred. Until then, and apart from the June 1948 pogroms, the urban Jews
had not been singled out, nor had there been any action of a specifically
anti-Jewish character countrywide in scope. Moreover, the nationalists
in general and the Istiqlàl in particular had seemed anxious to avoid
maltreating the Jews. In August 1954 and throughout 1955, however, the
urban and rural fighters or their adherents, though directing most of
their ire against the French, did not spare the Jews. Serious incidents
took place in the m e llâ h of Casablanca, resulting in the injury of many
Jews. It was generally believed that a mass attack on the Jewish quarter
of Casablanca would have taken place had it not been for the protection
given by the French authorities. Subsequently there were attacks, ha-
rassments, and property damage in the Jewish sections of Safi, Boujad,
Ouezzan, Mazagan, Ourika, and Tiznit. In Safi and Mazagan, these
attacks showed signs of being deliberate and premeditated.18 Several
Jewish community leaders contended that the Jews were victimized by
the struggle between the supporters of the exiled sultan and the cArafists,
the followers of Muhammad Ben Mawlây cArafa. This struggle continued
even after Muhammad V returned triumphantly to the throne in Novem
ber 1955.19
In view of these developments and unconfirmed rumors that the Arab
League sent its agents from Libya to Morocco to stir anti-Jewish senti
ments, the Coordinating Commission and the Jewish Agency debated
the need for much larger emigration quotas. Whether or not Moroccan
ca liy a should receive priority over the rest of North Africa was no longer
the issue, for not only Tunisia quieted down politically in 1954-55, but
in Algeria, the Jews faced no dangers before 1 November 1954, the date
when the FLN launched its revolution against the French. Though no
radical changes were introduced into the screening/selection criteria in
1954-55, the fact that la r g e r e m ig r a t io n q u o t a s were agreed upon helped
expedite the departure of Moroccan Jewry.
Several technical modifications were introduced into the selection
process, however. First, in 1954 special screening teams representing
128 Morocco's Struggle for Independence
the Absorption and Immigration departments of the Jewish Agency ar

rived in Morocco and Tunisia to assume charge of screening candidates
according to social criteria. Operating within Cadima, these experts were
sent by their political movements in Israel, usually the leftist labor
parties. Supplementing their work was the Israeli physician who contin
ued to make the final decision in accordance with medical criteria as to
which persons could make caliya. Nevertheless, early in 1955, it was said
that individual doctors who did not represent a known medical organiza
tion would no longer be responsible for conducting health examinations,
or for forwarding the emigrants' records to Casablanca. Actually, an
agreement among the Jewish Agency, the AJDC, and O SE (Oeuvre de
Secours aux Enfants) suggested that O SE would take over these tasks.20
We could not determine if Cadima and the Israeli physician continued to
depend solely on O SE ’s doctors, although the evidence does indicate
that in several major cities O SE did indeed take charge. Second, from
1954 until the fall of 1955, families eligible for emigration could not
include more than six or seven members if they had only one able-bodied
breadwinner to support them. However, families that had several em
ployable members were not restricted in this sense.21
After August 1954, the Jewish Agency and the Coordinating Com
mission had to confront the dual challenge of increasing caliya quotas
from urban Morocco and adhering to its decision of evacuating the var
ious villages in the Atlas mountains. To realize the latter decision, the
Jewish Agency and Tnucat ha-MoshavIm (the Moshavim Movement, which
promoted the integration of Jews into rural or semirural smallholders’
agricultural settlements) sent to the scene Yehuda Grinker, their emis
sary, to fortify Cadima s efforts in this domain. Accompanied by his
brother Yitshak, Yehuda Grinker visited at least eighty-seven villages
and towns in the southern b led between the end of August 1954 and
January 1956. He often traveled alone, riding a donkey or a cow, or
climbing narrow passages in the Atlas mountains in order to reach the
would-be emigrants. W hether in integrated village neighborhoods where
Muslims and Jews lived together, or in the villages’ m ellàhs, Grinker
organized the caliya of as many as 2,941 families comprising 13,553
00
persons.
As long as Grinker was in Morocco (he also helped register emigrants
on his free time among the urbanites), he frequently succeeded in con
vincing the Israeli screening team’s emissaries and Dr. Eliezer Mattan,
the Israeli physician, to soften as much as possible the selection criteria

for whole villages.23 Families or individuals who were totally ineligible
medically/socially for caliya were to be left behind in the villages. They
were resettled temporarily in the major urban Jewish communities where
communal institutions, working in conjunction with the AJDC, promised
them housing, welfare assistance, and medical care.
Grinker would meet with the Jewish villagers and small-town folk to
inform them about life in Israel. He refrained from making false promises
and told them exactly what was awaiting them: a young struggling nation
with complex problems. His policy was to choose as many candidates for
Israel’s m oshavim (cooperative farms) as instructed by the Moshavim
Movement and the Mapai labor party of which he was a representative.
However, as he was also recruited by the Jewish Agency/Cadima, it was
expected of him to recruit for caliya Jews in the b led who were either
ineligible for the m oshav or unwilling to conform to the life-style in the
cooperative farm.
Upon finding families or whole rural communities that were ready to
leave, Grinker registered and screened them. A date for the medical
examinations was then fixed and the candidates would proceed to their
assigned examination center. In several instances the medical checkup
process was waived, particularly as Morocco’s nationalist struggle inten
sified in 1955, for it was thought that the inhabitants of several remote
villages could be harmed by terrorists while trying to reach these cen
ters.24 The rest of the procedure is known: the ones eligible for caliya
were transported to Cadima’s camp where their exit documents would
be processed. Sometimes whole villages or their spokesmen arrived in
Casablanca or Marrakesh to plead with Cadima to be taken immediately
to Israel. Here, too, there were exceptions to the rule. Dr. Mattan, Ze5
ev Khaklai, and other Israeli emissaries approved them for caliya despite
the unsatisfactory state of health and/or physical handicaps of persons in
their ranks.
In 1954-55 Grinker corroborated Khaklai’s findings several years ear
lier: that in certain villages, albeit certainly not in all of them, Jews
engaged in agricultural pursuits. The Muslims usually owned the land,
with the Jews employed by them as laborers, enjoying the usufruct of
the land produce. Given the Jews’ poor social origins and their potential
service for Israeli nation building, their presence constituted the best
element for caliya:
The more I visited in these [Berber] villages and became acquainted with their
Jewish inhabitants, the more I was convinced that these Jews constitute the best
and most suitable human elements for settlement in [Israel s] absorption centers.
There were many positive aspects which I found among them: first and foremost,
they all know [their agricultural] task and their transfer to agricultural work in
Israel will not involve physical and mental hardships. They are satisfied with few
[material needs] which will enable them to confront their early economic prob
lems. It is possible to settle them in a mountainous region, in the Negev and
elsewhere. There will be other problems, however: how to train them to utilize
various modem tools which are so vital nowadays.25
After Grinker’s departure early in 1956, Cadima s social criteria selec

tion team was in complete control of the plan to evacuate the endangered
and remote communities of the bled. According to Chaim Toltshinski,
the head of the team, the Jewish villagers were first evacuated to the
major cities, among them Meknès and Marrakesh. The majority were
approved for emigration, the rest to be cared for by the AJDC and the
urban communities. W e have not been able to determine if the AJDC
and the communities did in fact assume full and proper responsibility for
the rejected cases. We do know, however, that some of those who were
disqualified turned to the Moroccan authorities, and, out of desperation,
requested that they pressure Cadima to reverse the decision of leaving
them behind. Considering that the Moroccan and the French authorities
placed Cadima in the limelight following several such unfortunate devel
opments, the Jewish Agency was compelled to suspend temporarily the
evacuation of villages until tempers cooled off. By January-February
1956 many Jewish villagers made caliya and were sent via Marseilles to
Israel s Te cenah agricultural region.26
The policy to absorb as many Moroccan Jews as possible, both urban
ites and villagers, into Israel’s agricultural districts was adopted in 1954.
Until then the issue of resettlement in Israel, though a matter of great
concern, was not dealt with very effectively. Yet with the substantial
increase in caliya from North Africa from 1954, Israel adopted the slogan
of “min ha-* onia el h a -k fa r ” (from the ship to the settlement). The plan
was to transfer 40 percent of the emigrant families to agricultural settle
ments and 60 percent to development towns. The agricultural settlers
were to be placed in three districts: Tecenah, between Afula and the
border line of Jenin; the Beit Jubrin district in the northeastern Negev;
and the Falluja district in the north central Negev. In addition, nonagri
cultural settlers at the development towns were to settle in the Galilee

(Safed, Hatzor, Halsa, and Tarshisha); Beit She’an (Migdal ha- cEmeq
district); the Jerusalem corridor (Har-Tuv, Kolonia, Castel); the area
between Be3 er Tuvia and Migdal ’Ashkelon; Be5er Sheva; and in smaller
districts or towns, among them Eilat, Dimona, Acre, and Tiberias.27 It
was the screening team in Morocco and/or Grinker who predetermined,
before caliya, the type of suitable absorption centers for the emigrants.
Increased tensions in Morocco were not the only reasons for the
decision by Israel to hasten caliya. According to Shragai, when the yearly
quota of 40,000 was fixed for North Africa, with Morocco in the lead, it
was partly due to the sudden need for human resources. Israel s Defense
Forces were short on manpower and the infiltration of terrorists from the
Egyptian-occupied Gaza Strip into Israeli settlements in the south, with
Gamal Abdel Nasser s blessings, caused much bloodshed. Shragai dis
closed that “the sooner we settle emigrants on the land in the Negev and
the Galilee, the sooner Arab terrorist infiltration would stop. This cannot
be achieved without ca liy a .>>2S
Late in 1955 on the eve of Moroccan independence, the then head of
the Jewish Agency's Immigration Department Paris office urged that
caliya from Morocco be increased over and beyond the large quotas
decided upon, noting in despair, “A Moroccan government is about to
be formed. . . . No one imagined that such a political development
would emerge so soon; and in the Jewish public there are signs of
desperation. The feeling is that we missed the boat in evacuating the
Jews from Morocco and the continuation o ï caliya from here is a question
of limited time. The pessimists speak of three to four months, the opti
mists of one to two years.”29
Cadima was then active throughout French Morocco (we have scant
data about caliya operations and arrangements from Tangier and the
Spanish Zone). Added to the local Moroccan Zionist workers and the
caliya commissions, the number of the Israeli emissaries affiliated with
Cadima had grown considerably since 1954,30 to include three types of
functionaries:
1. Those in charge of caliya and of overseeing its different phases. They

included Amos Rabl from Kibbutz Dovrat (Khaklai’s succesor as head
of Cadima); Arye Avrahami (Rabl’s deputy); Menachem Wilner; Ya
cakov Liberman (director of Cadima’s Camp Eliahu); Ya cakov Hasan
(director of Cadima’s important Marrakesh office); Yitshak and Yehuda

Grinker (Tnu cat ha-MoshavIm/Mapai); Yehoshua Cohen (Tnu cat ha-
Moshavïm/Religious Zionists); and Yitsfiak Annijer (ha-cOved ha-Tsi-
yoni, a nonsocialist movement that set up educational institutions,
kibbutzim and moshavim for youth/young adult emigrants).
2. Those in charge of screening the candidates on the basis of social
criteria, representing the Jewish Agency’s Immigration and Absorp
tion departments. They included Chaim Toltshinski, cOvadia Bijou,
Asher Eisenberg, Shlomo Menuhin, and Yitshak Be5 eri.
3. The physician, or physicians representing Israel’s Ministry of Health,
involved with the medical selection procedures. Dr. Eliezer Mattan
was replaced in 1955 by Dr. Y. Rapp and Dr. A. Kassel.
During Cadima’s nearly seven years of existence, when the French

still dominated much of Morocco, Protectorate policy vis-à-vis caliya was
generally positive. This did not signify, however, that the Protectorate
would not place obstacles in the way of emigration if the process were
not administered discreetly. Although the Residency realized that it
could not oppose emigration, it would nevertheless curb any mode of
emigration which might shake the local balance of forces, provoking the
m akhzan and the nationalists.
It is important to note that there was no uniformity of thinking on
Jewish emigration within the Protectorate administration. Certain offi
cials favored large-scale emigration, others supported a more limited
caliya, even below the six hundred emigrants per month quota agreed
upon in 1949. There were even those who opposed it altogether. There
were those who favored a liberal emigration policy for the humble socio
economic strata among the Jews, for both the urban and rural m ellàhs,
but did not wish the educated middle class and affluent Jews to leave.
Secondly, we do not have sufficient data to determine the precise politi
cal nuances prevalent among the various civilian and military officials
involved with emigration. Consequently, our focus is on the resident-
generals and their closest assistants, particularly on those resident-gen
erals active on the caliya issue. These were Alphonse Juin (1947-51),
Robert Guillaume (1951-54), and Francis Lacoste (1954-55).
Despite reservations about caliy a, Juin did not place many obstacles
in the way of Cadima, so long as the latter did its work discreetly and in
the spirit of the Juin-Gershuni accords, and as long as there was no
Morocco’s Struggle for Independence 133
opposition from the Muslims or Paris; Guillaume continued his predeces

sor’s policy. However, in this period, the positions on this issue of the
various sections of the Protectorate’s hierarchy were even more diverse
than in previous years. Under Lacoste, caliya gained momentum and
reached 2,000 per month (in 1955). Yet, as shall be seen, Lacoste an
nounced a plan limiting emigration.
Looking into specific examples, as late as 1953, Maurice Fischer,
Israel’s ambassador to France, emphasized that Paris and forces within
the Residency were still opposed to an immediate and total rescue oper
ation, if Israel were to consider one.31 Shmuel Divon, then a diplomat at
the Israeli embassy in Paris, arrived at a similar conclusion and made the
point that differences existed on the various levels of the Protectorate s
administration as to emigration. Many of the French experts on native
affairs were hostile to Israel and caliy a, whereas Guillaume and his closest
confidants indicated to Divon that if the Jewish Agency’s emissaries
would avoid Zionist campaigning and refrain from making sensitive pub
lic declarations, there would be no inclination to place unnecessary
obstacles in their way.32
Still, though the French said they would not place unnecessary obsta
cles, this did not mean that problems would not arise later on. Already
in July 1952, Pessah Shinar, then the leading expert on North Africa in
the Research Department of the Israel Ministry for Foreign Affairs, met
in Rabat with high officials— among them M. Péquin, deputy-director of
the Department for Sharifian Affairs, and Dr. M. Sicauld, director of the
Health Department. Péquin was rather blunt in relating to Shinar the
French dissatisfaction with the way Jewish Agency caliya emmisaries
noisily promoted emigration and simultaneously were active, together
with envoys of other Jewish Agency departments, among Jewish youths
who waved Israeli flags and organized public meetings, much to the
anger and dismay of the Muslims. According to Péquin’s information, the
sultan and the m akhzan had begun probing into the causes of Jewish
emigration as well as focusing attention on Zionist activity. Péquin did
his utmost to convince Shinar that Moroccan Jewry did not constitute a
suitable element for Israel’s needs, particularly since many of them
shunned agricultural pursuits and generally did not engage in physical
work. At the same time, Péquin assured Shinar that the French did not
and would not oppose emigration as long as it did not get numerically
out of proportion. Dr. Sicauld raised similar issues and wondered why
134 Morocco9s Struggle for Independence
the State of Israel sought to absorb large numbers of emigrants from

North Africa, an obvious burden on the young state s frail economy.33
Ze3 ev Khaklai provided his assessment based on his personal experi
ence at the local level. In two thorough reports, one sent to the then
Israeli prime minister, David Ben-Gurion,34 the other to foreign minister
Moshe Sharett,35 Khaklai described a certain degree of deterioration in
the otherwise generally positive attitude of the French to the emigration
process. Following clashes with Moroccan nationalists in December 1952,
the French military and civilian authorities in Morocco became con
cerned about the future of the Protectorate more than in any other period
in the recent past. They thus considered placing difficulties in the way of
the work conducted by the Jewish Agency. From their point of view,
Khaklai argued, the French saw in the Jews a positive pro-French ele
ment to be relied upon in the impending Moroccan struggle for indepen
dence. Perhaps the Residency and the administration would not halt
future emigration, but they might consider reducing it to a bare mini-
mum.
We need to probe further in order to ascertain how much of a policy
factor, if at all, was the French desire periodically to halt or restrict
emigration in an effort to enlist Jewish support for the preservation of
colonial interests. Yet, as appears from previously cited evidence there
existed fears among the French, real or imaginary, that if emigration
were not periodically restricted, nationalists or other Muslim pressure
groups such as Radio Cairo or the Arab League might place the Protec
torate in a difficult situation. Though Khaklai did not think that pressure
from Muslim circles throughout the Arab world to restrict or halt caliya
was especially pronounced in that period, this was nonetheless the expla
nation offered him by Robert Baudouy, director of the diplomatic cabinet
of the Residency. Baudouy warned that should there be pressure ema
nating from the sultan and his viziers, the French would have to respect
their feelings and, though caliya would not cease completely, the Jewish
Agency might face certain restrictions on its work.37
Having read Khaklai’s reports, Maurice Fischer sensed that Khaklai
underestimated French fears over Muslim pressures and reactions re
lated to emigration. Therefore, he urged Sharett to approach the French
government with a view to getting the Residency at Rabat to refrain from
implementing drastic measures.38 Though we have found no concrete
evidence of such intervention, Khaklai did indicate a year later that,
despite the generally positive attitude of the French to caliya activities in

most of the urban areas during 1953, they prevented such activity in
certain villages and small communities in the countryside. By May 1954,
however, he confidently stated that, following his discussions with a
variety of French officials, Cadima s work in rural areas had been ap
proved.39
The sharp increase in caliya in 1954-55 took place during Lacoste s
tenure at the Residency. This sudden increase in emigration from several
hundred per month before August 1954 to over 1,000 and quite often,
over 2,000 per month, particularly as 1954 was drawing to an end and
during the early part of 1955, prompted Lacoste to consider taking severe
measures. At a time when the Jewish Agency and the State of Israel had
agreed to hasten caliy ay there were clear signals from the Residency, in
early March 1955, that Lacoste intended to restrict it. Lacoste invited
Amos Rabl to see him and told him point-blank: “You are sending too
many people to Israel. According to the data in our possession, nearly
2,000 Jews leave Morocco each month. We will not tolerate large-scale
caliya of such proportions. You must limit the rate to seven hundred per
month.”40
On instructions from the Israeli government as well from the Jewish
Agency, Israel's ambassador to France, Yacakov Tsur, sent Yacakov Karoz
(formerly Yacakov Krause of the Mossad LecAliya Bet) to Rabat to per
suade the Residency to soften its restrictions. Karoz held a series of talks
with Protectorate officials, among them Robert Baudouy, the head of
Lacoste s diplomatic cabinet and, of course, Lacoste himself. As he had
told Khaklai two years previously, Baudouy informed Karoz that the only
reason for the severe restrictions on emigration was the opposition mani
fested by the local Muslims who saw in the Jews an important source of
profits and taxes (m atière im posable). In his opinion, the Muslims were
not justified in this feeling for it was no secret that the Jews who sought
to emigrate were predominantly poor. Baudouy added that he had tried
to convince both his superiors and the m akhzan of the absurdity of the
argument, but to no avail. Baudouy expressed the view that those who
claimed that the Jews constituted a vital force in the political balance in
Morocco (élém ent d'équilibre) and that, as a consequence, the French
were reluctant to let them emigrate, were greatly mistaken. True, the
Jews had been a reliably pro-French element, but their preference for
the French presence in Morocco did not mean that the Jews would not
136 Morocco s Struggle fo r Independence
The Grande Arenas Transit Camp in the Marseilles Area (courtesy of the Orga
nization of the Former North African Underground Activists in Israel).
side with the Muslims on ce the Muslims would seem to have the upper
hand in the struggle for in dependence. Baudouy had no doubt the Jew s
would then change sid es.41
T he m eeting with L aco ste on 7 M ay was lengthy. H e explained to
Karoz that it was due to his initiative in 1949 that the G ershuni-Juin
accord had brought about the opening of the gates for ca liy a ; and that it
was his efforts that had convinced Foreign M inister Schum an and his
superiors at the R esidency at th e tim e that ca liy a could not be legally
p reven ted and thus six hundred Jew s w ere able to leave m onthly in
1 9 4 9 - 5 0 .42 Though he and his superiors in F ra n ce had not intended to
dism antle C adim a, the new political clim ate com pelled him to red u ce
em igration from over 2 ,0 0 0 to seven hundred; he could not be indifferent
to the m a k h z a n s dem ands. L arge-scale em igration would con tribu te to
the already bloody and chaotic situation.43
Like his line of argu m en t in 194 9 , as expressed in his letters to
Schum an, L acoste reiterated in May 1955 that despite the difficulties
en cou n tered by Jew ish em igrants from M orocco in Israel, the Jew s p re
ferred this alternative to th eir growing political and econom ic insecurity
in Morocco. Yet the Jewish Agency through Cadima was contributing to

their lack of security by promoting a process of écrém age (skimming the
cream), that is, taking the able-bodied and the breadwinners and leaving
behind the elderly and sick. Despite Karoz’s efforts to convince Lacoste
that the selection of 'aliya candidates was conducted on a family and not
an individual basis, the latter was not persuaded.44
Lacoste made a point of explaining to Karoz that the number seven
hundred was not absolute; he already had instructions to grant 2,500
departure visas for emigrants chosen by Cadima. In the future, he did
not see himself bound to seven hundred. It was possible that in a given
month only one hundred would be able to leave while subsequently
3,000 might leave— everything was linked to circumstances.45
Karoz insisted that public response in Israel, not to mention political
reactions in the Jewish communities of the Western world, could become
quite intense. Except for the Iron Curtain nations and Libya, no govern
ment prevented Jews from leaving for Israel. Even the Middle Eastern
Arab states, which were in confrontation with Israel, had opened their
gates for Jewish emigration. This was the classic case of Iraq (1950-51)
and Yemen (1950). In the wake of the Holocaust in Europe, Israel would
not tolerate any emigration restrictions. 0Aliya was the raison d’être of
Israel.46
The meeting ended inconclusively. It was never made clear in later
French and Israeli reports whether or not the caliya restrictions decided
on early in 1955 were actually enforced or remained a dead letter.
Nevertheless, subsequent diplomatic efforts by the Israeli government
and the assistance of Ambassador Tsur in Paris throughout the second
half of 1955 prevented harsh restrictions from being implemented by the
Residency.
It seems that Baudouy’s and Lacoste’s assertions regarding the m akh
zan s displeasure or the Muslim masses' discontent with increased 'aliya
prompting the harsh measures— are misleading. Lacoste stated on differ
ent occasions in his correspondence that the masses were indifferent to
the Jewish exodus. He did express fears about the Arab League and was
concerned about Nasser’s reactions to Moroccan Jews leaving an Arab-
Muslim country for Israel. In fact, Radio Cairo accused the French of
financing the 'aliya. It would also appear that Lacoste’s decision was
meant to appease Moroccan Muslim nationalists at a time of political
turmoil. Doubtless there were accurate reports about certain Cadima
138 Morocco*s Struggle for Independence
officials and emissaries who deviated from the policy of discretion, some
thing Lacoste would not tolerate. Furthermore, French sources confirm
that affluent and influential Jewish notables, disturbed by both écrém age
and French reactions, encouraged the Residency to restrict caliya (in
1952 and 1955). This development dovetailed with the reservations of
the French themselves as to Zionist activity during those periods.
Did the French under Lacoste really see the Jews as an élém ent
d équ ilibre reliably fortifying their position, a source of information about
Muslim nationalist activity? French sources reveal differences of opinion
over this matter among officials. Several officials did indeed see the Jews
in 1954-55, particularly the urban population, as a vital asset for French
interests who h a d to stay in Morocco. Others pointed to the European
population, not the Jews, as the only reliable element. 1 have concluded
that the main reason behind Lacoste’s temporary restrictive measures
was to prevent Cadima and Israel from making the Protectorate appear
vulnerable at the height of the Franco-Moroccan confrontation. The
departure of too many persons for Israel when the French were fighting
for colonial preservation in the midst of terrorism and sabotage could
only demonstrate to Moroccan nationalists and the world that France was
no longer in control; that segments of the population had lost confidence
in French protection. What is more, as Karoz concluded, Lacoste was
apparently worried about a massive departure of Jews triggering the
flight of Morocco’s European residents.
Finally, if the French government was at first supportive of Lacoste’s
measures it no doubt had something to do with the ever-growing pres
ence of Moroccan Jewish emigrants in transit at Marseilles. The question
sometimes raised was: Why did Israel undertake large-scale emigration
in 1955 when it could not immediately and systematically transfer the
emigrants from France to Israel? If Israel could not cope with the absorp
tion of the emigrants, then it may have been irresponsible to organize
large-scale departures.
cAliyat ha-No ca r— Youth cAliya

cAliyat ha-No car, or youth emigration to Israel, was undertaken since the
early 1930s by the Jewish Agency and the pre-1948 Yishuv. Its purpose
was to bring youths to Palestine without their parents and settle them in
kibbutzim and m oshavim as well as to prepare them for productive work.

As a department within the Jewish Agency, cAliyat ha-No car rescued
Jewish children from Nazi-occupied Austria and Czechoslovakia. Numer
ous children were taken out of Germany without their families as early as
November 1938. During the 1930s cAliyat ha-No car was headed by the
well-known activist, Henrietta Szold. In later years it functioned under
the guidance of Moshe Kol, a political figure having served in several
Israeli governments. During the 1940s, one of cAliyat ha-No car’s main
offices was located in Paris, administered by Israeli emissaries and Euro
pean Jews. Among them were Fritz Lichtenstein and Moshe Bejski.
Just as the various Jewish Agency departments and the Mossad LecAliya
regarded their presence in France as vitally important for Zionist work in
North Africa, so too cAliyat ha-No car espoused similar goals. Morocco
and Tunisia emerged as the two most sought-after regions for this orga
nization. This was partly because it became feasible for its representa
tives to set up cAliyat ha-No car’s apparatus there under colonial protec
tion, and partly due to the high percentage of children and youths in
these communities, the very elements essential to Israeli society.
Until November 1949 the Mossad Le cAliya/Cadima in Casablanca was
entrusted with the task of recruiting youths and sending them to cAliyat
ha-Nocar s homes in France and Norway. On 4 November 1949, Gdalia
Paz, a Frenchman, was sent to French Morocco to administer a new
embryonic structure of cAliyat ha-No car. He operated out of Cadima to
extend youth recruitment operations into the Jewish communities of the
interior. There he set up local committees and enlisted volunteers among
Moroccan Jews to assist in caliya registration. In April 1950 Paz con
ducted an extensive fact-finding mission in the interior. He met with
local delegates of the Mossad Le cAliya and the caliya commissions,
representing ha-Po cel ha-Mizrahi/Mizrahi (Religious Zionists), Po cale
Tsiyon/Mapai as well as representatives of the Israeli-oriented youth
movements such as ha-Bonim (affiliated with Mapai) and Bne-cAkiva
(connected with ha-Po cel ha-Mizrahi and other Religious Zionists). The
Religious Zionists raised the issue of admitting religious youths into
Mizrahi/ha-Po cel ha-Mizrahi homes in France to undergo agricultural
training and advanced Zionist indoctrination (a process defined as h ach -
shara) prior to caliya. They sought assurances that kashrüt would be
observed strictly in all of cAliyat ha-No car’s homes. In Fez, Paz encoun
tered fierce opposition from religious communal leaders who demanded
that in the future youths who were separated from their parents would
not remain as such indefinitely. Many economically disadvantaged par
ents initially agreed to entrust their children to Aliyat ha-No car on the
assumption, and on the basis of promises made by the Mossad Le cAliya,
that they would follow their children to Israel via the general apparatus
of Cadima. Such plans often did not materialize because the parents were
rejected by Cadima in accordance with the screening policies. Paz was
now pressured to inform his superiors in Paris and Jerusalem that priority
in caliya be granted to parents whose children had either been in Europe
for h a ch sh a ra , or were living in Israel.47
It is mentioned in chapter 8 on Tunisia that segments of the youth
caliy a, sent to Israel via Europe, stayed in cAliyat ha-No car*s facilities in
Norway. However, most of them went to France where, near Montpel
lier, two hundred kilometers from Marseilles, they were absorbed into
Cambous,— an area resembling Israel s Galilee. Within Cambous, on
over three hundred acres, cAliyat ha-No car maintained a mansion sur
rounded by five buildings. The mansion included sporting grounds, a
school, a synagogue, vocational training facilities, a clinic, and a movie
theatre. Capable of integrating three hundred children at once, cAliyat
ha-No car’s complex at Cambous also had several homes, or sections, for
religious youths, Dror, ha-Shomer ha-Tsa cir, ha-Bonim, ha-No car ha-
Tsiyoni, and Gordonia. Theoretically, the complex at Cambous was de
signed to house youths who opted to settle in these movements’ kibb u t
zim. In reality, many youths arriving in Cambous from Morocco did not
belong to Ha-Shomer ha-Tsa cir or Dror in Casablanca, Fez, Meknès, or
Marrakesh. They included elements who left troubled homes, as well as
orphans. Impoverished families felt that by handing over their children
to cAliyat ha-No car it would ease their economic hardships. During their
stay in Cambous the youths made the transition from Moroccan to Israeli
society. The AJDC covered two-thirds of the expenses whereas the
Jewish Agency covered the rest. It was not uncommon for the personnel
at Cambous to discover that certain youths were ineligible for emigration
under the aegis o f cAliyat ha-No car, for they were unsuitable for h a ch
sh ara and for life on the kibbu tz or m oshav. The latter were then sent
back to Morocco or they joined those parents who were approved for
caliya by Cadima and awaited them at the Grande Arenas transit camp.48
Back in Morocco, upon recruiting children for caliya, Paz would enlist
local physicians or O SE ’s employees to administer the medical examina-
Table 10. cAliyat ha-No car in Morocco, 25 September

1949-28 February 1950
City Boys G irls T otal
Casablanca 144 82 226

Fez and Sefrou 60 23 83
Meknès 9 1 10
Marrakesh 14 16 30
Essaouira 13 2 15
Rabat and Salé 7 6 13
Safi 2 2 4
T otal 249 132 381
Source: ‘Aliyat ha-No ‘ar, in French, CZA, L58/98.
tions. Similar to Cadima’s procedures for regular caliy a, a date would be

fixed for the youths to be transported to Casablanca. On their arrival
they underwent additional medical tests before their admittance to the
youth emigration section in the Cadima camp.49
Between 1950 and 1956 cAliyat ha-No car in Morocco was administered
intermittently by Minna Blumenfeld.50 Until Blumenfeld arrived, youth
caliya did not proceed smoothly partly because, contrary to cAliyat ha-No
car’s policy, Paz sent to France youths who had not completed their
elementary school education. Secondly, O SE ’s physicians and local doc
tors failed to show up regularly in the Jewish communities of the interior
and hence most of the children were selected among Casablanca’s Jewish
community where medical services operated efficiently.51 Thirdly, be
tween the end of September 1949 and the end of February 1950 only 381
youths made caliya through cAliyat ha-No car, their ages ranging from
nine to sixteen. As table 10 indicates, the largest number of these emi
grants originated from Casablanca while an average of 76.2 children left
French Morocco each month in this period.
Dynamic and determined, Blumenfeld reduced cAliyat ha-No car’s
dependence on the Mossad Le cAliya/Cadima whose head, Sarny Halevy,
had serious reservations about the raison d’etre of her department and
was concerned about efforts to encroach into what he regarded as his
sphere of influence. As long as cAliyat ha-No car depended completely on
Cadima’s personnel it was unthinkable for Blumenfeld to include in her
work the small towns and villages of the bled. The physicians represent
ing Cadima were reluctant to become involved on her behalf in the rural
areas. cAliyat ha-No car was therefore deprived in 1950-51 of an impor

tant segment of emigrant youths from the countryside.52
With the passing of time cAliyat ha-No car succeeded in augmenting
its influence in the urban m ellàhs. This did not mean, however, that the
sort of opposition encountered by Paz in 1949-50 bypassed Blumenfeld
and her staff. Quite to the contrary, the opposition intensified. Blumen
feld complained that unlike the orphaned youths, those who left their
parents behind placed a major burden on the youth caliya apparatus.
Some parents continued to be rejected for emigration and their economic
survival without the children s assistance became a source of genuine
concern. Considering that in 1950-51 numerous youths departing were
over thirteen years old, they were indispensable for the Moroccan Jewish
household as a source of supplemental income. This development and
the fact that the Moroccan Jewish family was close-knit resulted in the
escalation of tensions between the communities and the Jewish Agency.
Demoralized parents, claiming they had been deceived, demanded that
their children be returned to them at once. Other parents threatened to
go to the authorities or to leave for Israel on their own initiative. After
all, they argued, would the Israeli authorities shoot them upon arrival in
Haifa or prevent their entrance into the country as the British Mandate
in Palestine had done in previous years? Virtually all of them cried that a
bunch of Ashkenazi emissaries representing Cadima and cAliyat ha-No
car did not really wish to see Moroccan Jews live in Israel.53 In her
correspondence with Paris and Jerusalem, Blumenfeld reported that
several families went as far as to withdraw their children from cAliyat ha-
No car’s section at the Cadima camp once it became apparent that their
own caliya prospects were limited.54
By the latter half of 1951 Blumenfeld had also organized youth caliya
from several villages. Her concern centered mainly on the children of
southeastern Morocco where Moroccan nationalists were drawing nu
merous supporters. Local Jews complained of a rumor about the resettle
ment of 150,000 Palestinian Arabs in their midst, a false alarm that stirred
panic among the Jewish communities of the entire area. The latter sent
representatives to Casablanca urging Cadima and cAliyat ha-No car to
rescue them.55
Aliyat ha-No car refused at the time to consider mass evacuation from
villages and urged Blumenfeld not to cling to rumors. Its chiefs in
Europe and Israel argued convincingly that both youth caliya homes and
the regular emigration camps in France were filled to capacity with

North African transients.56 Israel was simply unable to absorb additional
people. Actually, in 1952 Blumenfeld was instructed from Paris to delay
departure for youths affected by mild cases of ringworm. cAliyat ha-No
car’s homes in France, it was said, needed the space for healthy youths.57
The year 1952 marked a renewed offensive by religious circles against
cAliyat ha-No car. Previous criticism, somewhat milder, had been di
rected against Paz three years earlier. Blumenfeld and her assistants
were accused of spreading secular ideas among the children, and of de-
Judaizing and brainwashing them with notions of Israeli socialism. On
several occasions local rabbis protested against the integration of emi
grants into ‘Aliyat ha-No car’s homes belonging to secular and socialist
kibbu tz youth movements such as ha-Shomer ha-Tsa cir and Dror, insist
ing that they be placed at Cambous with Bne-cAkiva. To placate these
elements Blumenfeld encouraged the Paris office to place youths, notably
from the villages, in either the Bne-cAkiva section or the more mildly
socialist home of ha-Bonim. She made a special request on behalf of
youths coming from Kasr al-Suq— a hamlet on the Algerian-Moroccan
border, six hundred kilometers from Casablanca— who were fervently
religious and whose parents and rabbi-teachers had contempt for Dror
and ha-Shomer ha-Tsa Mr.58
By far the staunchest opponent was Isaac Elmaleh, an Orthodox Jew
and one of the most enthusiastic promoters of the OH (Osâr ha-Tora)
educational network. Throughout the early and mid-1950s Elmaleh de
livered countless lectures in public forums that were directed against
cAliyat ha-No car. He pleaded with parents not to confine their children
to the “maisons d’enfants” in Cambous, for these belonged to irreligious
movements that spread “an immoral education.” He went so far as to
suggest that several Moroccan youths were confused by the immoral
behavior of cAliyat ha-No car to the extent that they committed suicide.59
His antiyouth caliya campaign was so intensive that it included the
dissemination of tracts in Judeo-Arabic.
In 1955 cAliyat ha-No car had extended its influence throughout French
Morocco despite the opposition emanating from diverse circles. Whereas
in the past the overwhelming majority of youth caliya were the m ellâh
children, by 1955 youths coming from middle-class families who dwelt in
the urban European residential districts registered with cAliyat ha-No
car. The number of illiterate youths was reduced significantly by then
Table 11. Youth cAliya from North Africa, October 1955-M arch 1956
M onth M orocco Tunisia A lgeria Total
October 1955 31 34 4 69
November 1955 100 55 2 157
December 1955 67 30 2 99
January 1956 43 1 1 45
February 1956 110 14 4 128
March 1956 60 5 _2 67
T otal 411 139 15 565
Source: N. Menlson to Moshe Kol, Marseilles, 6 April 1956, CZA, L58/409, Hebrew.
and their health conditions had improved. According to Blumenfeld, the

intensified efforts of the AJDC, AIU, O SE, and OH contributed to these
developments and facilitated the tasks of cAliyat ha-No ‘ar.60 Also, by
1955, there were several types of youth caliya: those who completed their
training at Cambous; those who arrived in France, about to enter Cam
bous; children rejected at Cambous, found unfit for 'aliya in this frame
work; children who made caliya together with their parents through
Cadima. The majority of the youths still left Morocco via Cadima, accom
panied by their families.61 The ones who left Morocco with cAliyat ha-No
car and experienced life at Cambous later arrived in Ramat Hadassa: the
main temporary absorption center in Israel. The next step was to settle
in m oshavim and kibbutzim which, in 1955-56, included Sedjera, Kfar
ha-No car ha-Datl, Kibbutz Nitzanlm, Kibbutz Bror-Khayïl, and Kibbutz
Rohama.62
O f the North African countries, the ‘Aliyat ha-No car operation in
Morocco was the largest and most successful. As is noted in chapter 8,
youth 'aliya experiences in Tunisia were tragic while caliya from Algeria
in gen eral was minimal. Table 11 for the period October 1955-M arch
1956, during the height of the North African youth and general 'aliyay
illustrates this point.
During the same period, the AJDC assisted cAliyat ha-No car in France
with $125 per child for a total of $70,625.63 The AJDC also covered 91
percent of the expenses to maintain the youths at Cambous before 'aliya.64
All in all, according to Moshe Kol, head of cAliyat ha-No car, between
1949 and July 1956 6,236 Moroccan youths arrived in Israel through his
department.65
Zionist Education and cAliya
The Zionist Federation of Morocco (FSM) and the Zionist pioneer youth
movements cooperated with Cadima and cAliyat ha-No car. Moreover,
following the creation of these two emigration organizations, other Jewish
Agency departments were established in French Morocco between 1949
and 1955. This constellation included the Department for Middle East
ern Jewry (DMO hereafter), the Department of Pioneer Youth Move
ments (No car ve-he-Haluts hereafter), and the Department of Torah
Education in the Diaspora (discussed in chapter 5). Our discussion here
delves into their activities.
Beginning with the FSM , we have already noted that it was not
granted legal and official recognition by the French Protectorate. As was
the case in 1943-47, the FSM continued to collaborate in a highly
discreet fashion with the Jewish Agency from the spring of 1949. Its main
leadership was still composed of veteran Zionists under the chairmanship
of Paul Calamaro, among them J. R. Toledano, Raphael Benazeraf, Solo
mon Cagan, Shmuel Elmaleh, M. Marciano, S. D. Lévy, S. Ohana, and
Zéidé Schulman. They periodically plunged into disagreements over
pressing issues such as selective ‘aliya and the methods for hachshara.
Their ranks were also split by ideological conflicts, for the leadership
represented the diverse spectrum of Zionist/Israeli political movements
ranging from Po cale Tsiyon/Mapai and the General Zionists, to Herut
(Revisionists) and Mizrahi/ha-Po cel ha-Mizrahi.
Paul Calamaro echoed the position of several important Zionists in
Morocco when he advocated “quality ‘a l i y a In a letter to the World
Zionist Organization early in 1949, Calamaro argued that segments of the
Moroccan emigrants arriving in Israel during the illegal phase of 1947-
49 were educationally and socially unprepared for their new surround
ings. Although it was understandable that a Jew sought to leave Morocco,
a country where he was mistreated, the escape to Israel without prior
Zionist educational training led to despair, frustration, and lack of adap
tation. Calamaro believed that unless this anomaly was challenged, many
Moroccan emigrants in Israel would return to their country of origin. He
called upon the World Zionist Organization and the Jewish Agency to
supervise ‘aliya, organize efficient h ach sh ara, define specific health cri
teria for would-be emigrants, and provide Hebrew and Israeli cultural
education for the youths, so as to minimize the shock of their absorption

process:
We do not plan for one moment to halt this *aliya which is the only hope for
Morocco’s Jews, but it is our duty to first and foremost take into consideration
the state of Israel which needs the help and aid of builders and those ready to
serve her. Our negotiations with the authorities in Rabat over this matter leaves
room for hope that emigration will become legal. . . . As for h ach sh a ra we have
important tasks before us, for it is imperative that our would-be emigrants will
be effectively prepared morally and physically. For this purpose we need emis
saries. . . . We know that in view of the [1948] war our concerns seem secondary
in nature, but we nevertheless hope that once the hostilities end and peace
prevails serious steps will be taken to . . . dispatch suitable emissaries.66
Shlomo Nahon, a delegate of the World Zionist Organization who

visited Morocco in 1948, shared Calamaro’s position that it was vital to
lay the foundations for large-scale socioeducational activity as soon as
possible. Even prior to the Gershuni-Juin accords, Nahon raised the
following suggestions that were implemented after March 1949:
The Jewish Agency and the World Zionist Organization must be the pivot of
large-scale activity in the area of social work, education and h a ch sh a r a , the aim
being to rescue and transfer of the Jewish masses of North Africa [to Israel]. This
goal necessitates the cooperation of the international Jewish organizations: first of
all, the Alliance Israélite Universelle, and then the agencies which commenced
their operations in North Africa after World War II— the American Jewish Joint
Distribution Committee, ORT, OSE, the American Jewish Committee and the
World Jewish Congress; all of these [organizations] have taken the initial prepa
ratory steps, and other organizations evince interest in the matter.67
It is not known precisely when the FSM ’s leadership appealed unani

mously to the Jewish Agency and the State of Israel to liberalize caliya in
the context of larger emigration quotas as well as flexible selection crite
ria. However, there is no doubt that the deteriorating sociopolitical
conditions of Moroccan Jewry from August 1954 on the eve of Morocco’s
independence, increased the demands to accelerate caliya. A classic
example of this development is found in the pleas made by Alphonso
Sabbah, vice-chairman of the FSM . In August 1955, during his speech at
the General Executive Council of the World Zionist Organization in
Jerusalem, Sabbah stated bluntly:
Moroccan Jewry turns its eyes with fervor and hope toward Israel. From there it
expects the salvation. It utters only two words which are terrible in their simplic
ity: M ake h aste! Taking into account the difficulties of absorption in Israel which
we do not underestimate and which necessarily limit the possibilities of ‘aliya,
we do not request a “flying carpet” [as was the case with Yemeni and Iraqi Jewry
in 1950-51] between Morocco and Israel, but we consider it our task to ask for a
monthly quota of 5,000 persons . . . [and] to alleviate the rules of selection
limiting them to contagious diseases and incurable illnesses. . . . You are of
course entitled to wish that emigration from Morocco should be carried through
gradually and distributed over several years. But then you forget the risk that it
may stop.68
As we have seen, the Jewish Agency did recognize the need for larger
quotas. However, the FSM ’s request of 5,000 emigrants per month was
unacceptable to Israel whose officials also dismissed any plea for the
im m ediate and com plete evacuation of Morocco s Jewry.69
Turning to Zionist youths among the movements operating in Morocco
that were affiliated directly or indirectly with the Jewish Agency and the
Mossad Le cAliya, the following were the most noted: ha-Bonim (Mapai/
Ihud ha-Kvutsot ve-ha-Kibbutzim); Dror (until the early 1950s affiliated
with Mapam, Mifleget Po calim Meuhedet, and the United Kibbutz
Movement known as ha-Kibbutz ha-Meuhad); ha-Shomer ha-Tsa cir (the
ultra left-wing Israeli vanguard movement affiliated with the Mapam
party and the Kibbutz ha-3 Arts!); ha-No car ha-Tsiyoni (Liberal Progres
sives); Bne-cAkiva (ha-Po cel ha-Mizrahi); and Betar (Revisionists). Along
side the pro-Israeli Zionist youth movements were the non-Zionist coun
terparts. Several of their members cooperated with the Israeli emissaries
as individuals on matters relating to h ach sh ara and 'aliya. These were
the Eclaireurs Israélites de France (E IF) and the Département Educatif
de la Jeunesse Juive (D EJJ). Furthermore, one of the most important
Zionist youth movements attracting youths from both secular and reli
gious upbringing, functioning mainly in Casablanca, included the afore
mentioned Charles Netter Association whose members collaborated with
the Yishuv’s emissaries in 1944-45 and the Israelis who supervised the
illegal caliya in 1947-49. Its activists constituted the backbone of the
clandestine organization that smuggled Jews to Palestine via Algeria.
From the 1940s the work of the Zionist youth movements was stimu
lated by Israeli emissaries. The movements and their emissaries were
tolerated by the Residency in the wake of the Gershuni-Juin agreement,
yet the French showed little enthusiasm for their aims and refused to
accord them official recognition. These movements did not attract Jewish
youths en m asse, were elitist, and sought to escape m ellàh culture. For
example, in September 1950 there were four hundred organized Zionist
youths in Tangier; they were members of ha-Bonim, Dror, Bne-cAkiva,
and ha-Shomer ha-Tsa cir.70 According to Elie Mouyal, Mapai’s and ha-
Bonim’s Israeli emissary for French Morocco, ha-Bonim’s branch in Ca
sablanca was the largest while another important branch functioned in
Fez. The branch in Casablanca had no more than 150 members but
succeeded nonetheless in sending twenty-eight youths to France for
hachsh ara. As the number of emissaries among ha-Bonim and other
movements was limited before the mid-1950s, Mouyal and his counter
parts trained assistants, known as m adnhtm . The m adrïhtm assisted in
promoting Zionist education and youth camp activities in the Atlas moun
tains.71
Mouyal argued that the Jewish Agency, notably the Nocar ve-he-
Haluts Department with which ha-Bonim in Morocco was affiliated, had
to devote greater attention toward the initial absorption of North African
youth emigrants in N orth A frica rather than in France. In 1949, when
ha-Bonim was in its early organizational phase, Mouyal complained that
the majority of Morocco s urban Jewish youths neither belonged to move
ments nor had a clear-cut perception of modern Zionism. He maintained
that it was still not too late to grapple with the problem, but time was
running out, especially in light of the growing tides of Moroccan nation
alism. He warned Mapai and the Jewish Agency that North African
h ach sh ara had to assume serious dimensions:
If, as [our] colleague David Ben-Gurion said, that the situation today is different
from what it was twenty years ago when the youth movements underwent
h ach sh ara of several years prior to caliya, and that today we do not have the time
just as the emigrants have not the time, it behooves us more than ever to work
quickly and on a large-scale. We must therefore accelerate the pace of education
and h ach sh ara in Morocco and lay the foundation for the implementation of these
tasks.72
In order to fortify its position in the Moroccan Jewish communities,

ha-Bonim and its Israeli emissaries launched different projects to win
adherents. For instance, in Decem ber 1949 ha-Bonim’s activists orga
nized in Casablanca an exhibition where the maps of Israel from the time
of the twelve tribes until the 29 November 1947 Partition Plan were
displayed; also in the exhibition were photos of the British evacuation of
Palestine, of David Ben-Gurion announcing the creation of the Jewish
state, of kibbutzim and the Israel Defense Forces, and of Israel s major
cities as well as the Negev desert; Israeli flags were hoisted in public.73
Based on ha-Bonim’s reporting, the exhibition was a success, its organiz
ers facing no opposition from the French authorities or the m akhzan. In
all likelihood this is attributed to the fact that even if such events were
politically motivated, they were tolerated by the French once defined as
“cultural events.’*
Who were the members of ha-Bonim in Morocco? In Fez, Meknès,
and Sefrou they were mostly high school students enrolled at the French
Protectorate institutions. In other words: youths coming from well-to-do
families whose members always benefited from the finest education avail
able in Morocco. The less privileged children frequented the AIU schools.
Notwithstanding, by the early 1950s ha-Bonim and other movements
began to attract into their ranks youths from less privileged backgrounds,
including AIU students.74
Like other Zionist pioneer movements, Dror promoted projects that
included summer and winter camps in the Atlas mountains, seminars for
m adrihim , and aspects of h ach sh ara for life in the kibbutz. However,
Dror (like ha-Shomer ha-Tsacir) was more ideologically oriented than ha-
Bonim and committed to attracting youths to the ideas of socialist Zion
ism. Dror was accused of singing the In ternationale in their clubs and of
waving the Soviet flag— intimidating features that stirred resentment in
rabbinic circles, among adherents of ha-Po cel ha-Mizrahi/Bne-cAkiva,
and at the French Residency. Ha-Bonim maneuvered more prudently
and, to avert alienating the traditionalists, its emissaries concealed their
socialist principles and political goals. Moreover, members of Dror and
ha-Shomer ha-Tsa cir contributed to their unfavorable image by smoking
in public on the Sabbath and conducting debates over Marxism and
Leninism, even in synagogues or community centers. Interestingly, the
opposition to Dror and ha-Shomer ha-Tsa cir emanated also from ha-
Bonim and its emissaries. From 1949-50 onward, ha-Bonim fomented
opposition to these movements as part of Mapai’s competition with Ma
pam, seeking to divert their membership into its movement and further
Table 12. Financial Assistance from No car

ve-he-Haluts to Zionist Youth Movements
in Morocco, 1954
M ovem ent F ren ch F ran cs
Ha-Bonim 313,600
Dror 313,600
Ha-Nocar ha-Tsiyoni 171,500
Ha-Shomer ha-Tsacir 98,000
Total 896,700
Source: Dr. Benzion Benchalom to Pessab Rodnik, 23 May
1954, CZA,S32/No ‘ar ve-hc-Haluts Files.
tarnish their image in the communities. In fact, Dror s emissaries and

youth members reproached ha-Bonim for resorting to unethical propa
ganda tactics. '5
Whereas Dror, ha-Shomer ha-Tsa cir, and even ha-Bonim never made
significant inroads before 1952 among the youths,76 Bne-cAkiva of the
Religious Zionists drew considerable support as early as 1946. Ha-Po cel
ha-Mizrahi’s chief emissary in French Morocco claimed in 1950 that after
several years of activity, the movement had sixteen m adnhxm , seventeen
branches in the urban centers,and as many as 1,937 members and former
members. Several m adnhxm were dispatched to Israel, France, and
England for special training and, between 1948 and 1950, 106 youths
were sent to France via ‘Aliyat ha-No car for h a ch sh a ra .77
The Zionist youth movements throughout North Africa were depen
dent financially on the No car ve-he-Haluts Department as well as on
their parent movements in Israel. It appears that the AJDC, too, allo
cated funds for the movements, although we lack precise data on the
extent of the support. The No car ve-he-Haluts Department funds in
Jerusalem were usually sent to No car ve-he-Haluts in Paris and then
disbursed in Morocco. For example, in spring 1954 Pessah Rodnik, chief
emissary of No car ve-he-Haluts in Paris, transferred approximately 900,000
francs to the Zionist youth movements and to their emissaries, with the
exception of Bne-cAkiva and Betar (see table 12).78 Were these Jewish
Agency funds only or did this include monies made available by the
AJDC and the movements in Israel? We have been unable to determine
the financial breakdown.
Though elitist for the most part, were the movements revolutionary?
Did they succeed in securing ideological commitments from the youths?

Is it justified to compare them in one fashion or another to their counter
parts in the Diaspora and Israel? The prevailing opinion during the mid-
1950s among the emissaries was that despite certain radical tendencies
among Dror and ha-Shomer ha-Tsa cir— marginal movements at the time
— the movements as a whole were hardly revolutionary. An emissary
active with ha-Bonim observed in 1954 that while the movements were
intended to become revolutionary and to encourage free thinking, this
did not seem to occur in Morocco. He explained that ha-Bonim preferred
to recruit youths who frequented the French Protectorate schools, as
suming that if they were thoroughly immersed in French culture they
would naturally be open to liberal ideas. It soon became quite apparent,
however, that despite their liberal French education, these youths were
remote from liberalism. In 1954, the family unit was still the most
authoritative aspect in their lives as in previous years. Even at age
twenty-one the youngsters were not freed of the attachment to their
parents, a phenomenon that stood in complete contradiction to the cen
tral ideological theme of the youth movement— independence. Sec
ondly, though a French-educated intellectual elite did emerge in the
urban communities, its aim was to exploit the educational gains only for
social mobility. Further, the parents, particularly among the economi
cally disadvantaged, refrained as much as possible from having their
children participate in the movements. It is equally noteworthy that the
lack of major success was also attributed to the previously mentioned
French Protectorate policy of tolerating the movements yet refusing to
grant them official recognition.79
The same emissary painted a rosier picture of the E IF and D E JJ.
These groups were not only accorded legal status by the authorities and
a license to operate, but their members were permitted to parade in
their movements’ uniforms. The parents, too, did the utmost to send
their children to the D E JJ and E IF because the two movements were
regarded as ideologically neutral and apolitical. The emissary noted that
the E IF had gradually placed some emphasis on modem and contempo
rary Jewish values.80
We learn about the growing interest of Jewish Agency personnel in
the officially non-Zionist E IF and D E JJ from ha-Po cel ha-Mizrahi’s
emissary. The latter was impressed with D E JJ’s units, its vocational and
Hebrew educational training for indigent m ellâh youths, the summer
programs, and the food and clothing distribution services. In 1955, D E JJ

had branches throughout Morocco, it received subsidies from the AJDC,
while its membership far outnumbered any combination of the Zionist
youth organizations. The E IF was more elitist but the youths obtained in
their clubs a systematic Hebrew education. They sang Israeli songs and,
individually, made caliya via cAliyat ha-No car. The age categories of E IF
membership were as follows: nine to thirteen, thirteen to seventeen, and
eighteen to twenty-two. The emissary was able to contact these youths,
entered their clubs, and attempted to deepen their Jewish education by
accentuating religious values and discussing with them the history of the
Jewish colonization of Palestine.81
Ironically, at the very moment when ties between the Zionist and
non-Zionist youth movements were solidifying, political developments
that would once and for all contribute to the demise of tolerated Israeli-
inspired activity loomed on the horizon. Samuel L. Haber, AJDC direc
tor for Morocco, reported that, in March 1956, immediately after the
country achieved independence, the Zionist youth movements ceased to
function in the open and resorted to underground conditions.82 Avraham
Israeli, who was active with ha-Bonim and ranked among the most
important emissaries in Morocco, predicted the outcome at the end of
1955. He cautioned against panic but informed No car ve-he-Haluts in
Jerusalem that, as the country was on the verge of independence, it was
inescapable for all Zionist action to be reorganized clandestinely:
There is serious concern that some of the emissaries will be forced to leave and it
is possible that the work carried out hitherto in the open, will have to pass to
different rails. The changes may not be immediate, for the [Franco-Moroccan]
negotiations are not final, and hence it would be feasible to work for at least
several months longer. But there is [a state of alert] for the future and this is felt
in all aspects of Zionist work. The aliya is gaining strength and Israel is of major
concern in [Jewish circles].83
In the latter half of 1956, the members of the youth movements

operating in the underground represented all the above-mentioned groups.
Most importantly, however, a special clandestine apparatus composed of
young Zionists, including former youth movement members, was formed
by the M ossad, Israel s secret service agency. It existed in Morocco from
August 1955, when the youth movements were still tolerated, and func
tioned alongside of them. The Israeli-inspired secret apparatus promoted
self-defense training among communities in case of physical harassment

at the height of the Muslim struggle for independence. Eventually, in
the post-1956 period, in conjunction with the youth movements— now
underground— the apparatus assisted in organizing illegal caliy a. It fol
lowed the decision by the Moroccan authorities to halt Cadima s work.
The topic is analyzed in chapter 7.
Concerning the Jewish Agency's Department for Middle Eastern Jewry
(DMO), the Zionist General Council at its session in August-September
1948 decided to establish a special department for Jewish affairs in the
Middle Eastern and North African Jewish communities. Ya cakov Zeru-
bavel, a member of the Zionist Executive, was appointed as its head.
Although many of the DM O’s emissaries belonged to ha-Shomer ha-Tsa
cir's kibbu tzim , and were affiliated with Mapam, several additional emis
saries involved with it were members of other Israeli political move
ments. The DMO was short-lived in the organizational constellation of
the Jewish Agency, having been dissolved in September 1951.
The DMO was established when Syria, Iraq, Jordan, and Egypt were
already at war with Israel. It was observed in Jerusalem that Israel's war
of independence served to aggravate the hostility of the Muslim popula
tions toward the Jewish minorities in their midst. In view of the military
setbacks of the Arab armies in the Palestine war, new trends of anti-
Jewish and anti-Zionist backlash were evident, to the point where the
Zionist movement was faced with the task of mobilizing the resources at
the World Zionist Organizations's disposal in order to rescue the Jews
“from total demoralization. ' 84
During its first year of existence, the DMO regarded its principal role
as consisting of creating an organizational apparatus that would promote
channels of communication through emissaries with the Jewish commu
nities of the Mediterranean basin. Once trained, the emissaries were
sent to the various Muslim countries. Several of them were operating
illegally, others semilegally— depending on political conditions in a given
country. The illegal emissaries were trained and briefed by the Mossad
Le cAliya offices in Paris. Similar to the organizational priorities of the
Mossad Le cAliya in establishing in Paris the most important office for
dealing with emigration from the Muslim countries, the DMO followed
suit. Its office for overseas operations in Paris was directed by Elie Peleg
who was active as an illegal emissary in Egypt between 1946 and 1948 on
behalf of ha-Shomer ha-Tsa cir. Through Paris and Jerusalem, the DMO
was active in Morocco, Tunisia, Algeria, and Egypt. It also opened an

office in Tehran to serve as a vital link with Iranian and Afghani Jewry.
The central office in Jerusalem was largely responsible for Libyan, Ye
meni, and Burmese Jew s.85
In countries where the DMO s work was tolerated— Morocco, Tu
nisian, Algeria, and Iran— social service centers were established in the
Jewish ghettos to provide an educational framework and to offer social
welfare benefits geared toward preparing the youths for caliya. In these
countries, the DMO cooperated with international Jewish organizations
active on the scene, among them the AJDC, the ORT, the O SE, and the
AIU. The DMO emissaries spread Zionist education among mellâh youths
in Morocco and imparted knowledge of modern Hebrew to the emigrants
and their children once they entered the transit camps in Marseilles.86
The process of rescuing Jews, then, was not automatic. Like other
Israeli bodies, the DMO aimed at preparing them culturally to adjust to
Israeli society while still living in the Diaspora. Referring to Morocco,
Elie Peleg noted in January 1950:
The liquidation through caliya of Moroccan Jewry was never intended to become
an immediate process. . . . Their transfer to Israel is the only solution to their
problems. However, this process is continuous and will take place over a period
of many years. . . . As social work and educational endeavors are the best means
to prepare the Jews for caliya, their immediate transfer to Israel, unprepared for
life in the new surroundings[,] will result in disillusionment.87
Beginning in 1949, the DMO in Morocco commenced an aggressive

social work campaign. Led by Mascud Bitton, formerly a social worker in
Jerusalem s impoverished neighborhoods, the emissaries established the
C entre Social in the m ellâh of Casablanca to serve as a launching pad for
educational and social activities, as well as to help counteract unemploy
ment by offering vocational training. In 1950, this center provided ser
vices to about four hundred young persons. It was visited by the youths'
families, who were given information about caliya. Hebrew was taught
only to those who were not absorbed into the AIU and OH schools. The
center had a sports section that catered to youths aged fourteen to
eighteen, the purpose being to promote physical education and “build
the muscles of m ellâh children," preparing them for the rugged life in
Israel. The emissaries at the center taught Israeli singing and the history
of the Yishuv. As the Zionist pioneer movements during this period

attracted mostly educated youths, and D E JJ had barely come into exis
tence, the DMO sought to care for the ghetto children. It also extended
activities to the town of Taroudant in the Ante-Atlas while several emis
saries managed to penetrate the AIU schools in Tangier and the Spanish
Zone, to teach aspects of modern Hebrew.88
In fact, the DMO was the first department of the Jewish Agency that
penetrated the m ellâh of Casablanca successfully. It collaborated with
O SE which provided treatment to the youths for ringworm and tra
choma; with ORT to popularize vocational education; and with the AIU
teachers for French education. The center became a comprehensive
elementary school for unwanted or deserted children.
Despite initial successes in the Zionist educational and social work
arenas, the efforts of the DMO were challenged. Since most of its emis
saries were left-wing secularists, they managed to irritate the rabbinic
establishment in Casablanca and Taroudant from the outset. The Reli
gious Zionists’ circles and the supporters of Agudat Yisrael were unhappy
with the lack of Jewish spirit among the envoys; and the leaders of the
youth sporting section within the Charles Netter Association resented
the fact that the Social Center in Casablanca competed with them in
attracting m ellâh youths, thus testing their popularity. Shortly after the
DMO extended its work to Morocco, emissaries of ha-Po cel ha-Mizrahi
and ha-Bonim exploited the dislike in the communities for ha-Shomer
ha-Tsa cir and Mapam, to which most DMO emissaries belonged. They
accused the latter of pressuring m ellâh youths under their influence to
join Mapam-dominated kibbutzim after caliy a, and of furthering the aims
of communism in French Morocco.
The crucial turning point occurred in the aftermath of the “Esther
Zaltz Affair.” On 25 November 1950, Esther Zaltz, an emissary of the
DMO, was arrested by the French, accused of carrying a fake Tunisian
passport and of involvement in communist activity. Other emissaries
were subsequently detained for interrogations, among them Mas cud
Bitton, Evlyn Gordon, and Miryam Ben-Dov. The French police in
formed them that the information leading to their interrogation was
provided by “an important Jewish dignitary.”89
Shortly before her arrest, Zaltz was sent to Taroudant. Her behavior,
according to Jewish community sources, was antagonistic and aroused
negative sentiments toward the DMO. In a highly traditional Jewish
community such as Taroudant, one of the most orthodox in North Africa,

Zaltz would smoke in public during the Sabbath and she affixed to her
shirt’s lapel the pin of the Palmach— Israel’s elitist pre-1948 military
unit. She was also criticized for wearing short pants and inviting Israeli
emissaries to her apartment.90 Zaltz’s attitude hastened the demise of the
DM O’s influence, for it appears that certain Jewish notables informed
the authorities about her “irregular” activities. On the other hand, it is
not clear if the informants knew about the illegal passport.
The French, too, hardly welcomed the presence of the department in
their midst. They suspected that it was secretly involved in magen: self-
defense training of Jewish youths in case the June 1948 pogroms were
repeated; but apparently this could not be proven. They believed that
other aspects of DMO work were illegal and feared adverse reactions
from the m akhzan. Hence, the Residency and French security personnel
searched for a motive to accuse the DMO of using education and social
work as a facade for a political conspiracy. The “Zaltz Affair” offered them
the very motive needed to act. Following a meeting of Marc Jarblum and
Hélène Cazès-Benatar (then the AJDC representative for North Africa)
with the head of the resident-general’s diplomatic cabinet, the French
released Zaltz but insisted that in the future all Jewish Agency emissaries
enter Morocco with their prior knowledge. The DMO emissaries were
expelled from Morocco.91
The DMO dispatched new emissaries to Morocco in 1951. However,
they enjoyed very limited freedom of movement, with the French secu
rity services and the Direction de l’Intérieur monitoring their pursuits.
Their role was also limited now because the Social Center in Casablanca
could function only under the auspices of a committee composed of local
Jewish notables.92 When the DMO was completely dismantled in Sep
tember 1951, the responsibility for its enterprises in Morocco and else
where was entrusted to emissaries of the Department of No car ve-he-
Haluts.93
Did the dissolution of the DMO come about as a result of dissatisfac
tion in Mediterranean basin communities with its ultrasecular emissar
ies? Was a decision adopted in the Jewish Agency because its heads
thought that the type of activity exercised by the DMO could be carried
out through the Department of No car ve-he-Haluts? Perhaps certain
budgetary considerations prevailed in this case. Was it due to internal
political conflicts within the Jewish Agency between the DM O’s Mapam
proponents and the Mapai and ha-Pocel ha-Mizrahi elements? Whatever

the motives, No car ve-he-Haluts and the Casablanca Jewish leadership
committee declared that the aim of maintaining the Social Center was
‘‘to prepare . . . young people for caliy ay and thus it became essential to
provide them with Israeli education/’94 Indeed, between 1950 and 1956
the Social Center in the m ellâh prepared several thousand youths for
caliya.
To what extent were international Jewish organizations involved with
caliya? This important aspect is the subject of our analysis in chapter 5.
C h a p ter 5
International Jewish Organizations

and the cA liy a from Morocco:
The Early and Mid-1950s
We noted in chapter 1 that despite its generally anti-Zionist attitude until

1939, the outbreak of World War II, the German occupation of France
in June 1940, and the rise of Vichy had a devastating impact on the AIU.
It could no longer remain indifferent to Zionist goals. Under the presi
dency of René Cassin, a distinguished jurist and member of Charles de
Gaulle’s govemment-in-exile, and the vice-presidency of Jules Braunsch-
vig, the organization took a new position. Though it did not become
Zionist-oriented, after the war the AIU spoke of the need for Jewish
emigration to Palestine, and particularly of settling the victims of Nazi
Germany there.
Did this change manifest itself in Morocco, the bastion of the AIU
international school network? One of the projects undertaken by
Braunschvig and Reuben Tajouri (then AIU Morocco delegate) was to
expand its Jewish educational programs, sometimes in conjunction with
the Jewish Agency and the State of Israel. This expansion came about
after 1946 with the creation in the Casablancan suburb of Oasis of the
Ecole Normale Hébraïque (ENH), under the leadership of the Algerian
rabbi Yitshak Rouche and his disciples from Oran: Avraham Hazan,
Moïse Amsellem, Emile Sebban, and Joseph (Jo) Medioni.
The ENH now trained the future Hebrew/Judaic studies teachers for
the AIU schools in Morocco, and later for those in Tunisia and Algeria.
The purpose was to replace the rabbi-teachers (responsible in the AIU
158
The cAliya from Morocco 159
Table 13. Ecole Normale Hébraïque, General Education

(Hours per Week)
Classes
Courses Offered
in the Area o f Pedagogical
General Education Sixth Fifth Fourth Third Year
French 6 6 5 6 2
Mathematics 5 5 5 5 —
Physical
sciences 2 2
Natural
sciences 1 1 1 2 —
History 2 2 2 2 —
Geography 1 1 1 1 —
Music — 1 1 1 1
Design I — — — —
Physical
education 2 2 2 2 2
Classical
Arabic 4 4 5 4 6
Moroccan
Arabic — — 1 1 —
Source: Horaires Hébdomadaires des Matières Enseignées avant 1956. E.N.H. For providing me with
the normal school’s program, 1 would like to express my gratitude to the AIU delegate in Casablanca,
Elias Harms.
schools for Jewish education) who applied outdated pedagogical methods

with the type of teachers who would be on the same level as the AIU
general education teachers, trained in France. The ENH building in
cluded dormitory facilities for students coming from communities other
than Casablanca, a dining hall, and a synagogue. Education was tuition-
free. In 1992 the ENH still functioned at the same site although more
buildings and facilities had been added since the 1960s, and the school
had been transformed into a Jewish high school. Although the ENH
today offers the high school degree, known as the b accalau réat, until the
early 1960s it offered the Brevet d’Etudes du Premier Cycle Secondaire
(BEPCS) after four years of intensive Jewish and secular education, plus
a fifth year designed for pedagogical training (see tables 13 and 14). In
the decade beginning in 1951, the ENH trained 126 teachers: 86 taught
at the AIU schools in Morocco; 13 pursued studies at the AIU’s teachers’
college in Paris (probably to be able to teach advanced secular studies); 6
160 The cAliya from Morocco
Table 14. Ecole Normale Hébraïque, Jewish Education

(Hours per Week)
Classes
Courses Offered
in the Area o f Pedagogical
Jewish Education Sixth Fifth Fourth Third Year
Talmud 3 3 3 3 12
The written Torah 5 4 4 2 4
The oral Torah 4 5 3 2 2
Jewish history 2 1 2 1 2
Jewish ethics 1 1 — — —
Hebrew composition — — 1 1 1
Liturgy 1 1 1 1 1
Hebrew penmanship
and grammar — 1 1 — 1
Psychology — — — — 2
Pedagogical theory — — — — 1
Probation (stage) — — — — 2 -4
Source: Horaires Hébdomadaires des Matières Enseignées avant 1956: E.N.H . For providing me with
the normal school's program, I would like to express my gratitude to the AIU delegate in Casablanca,
Elias Harms.
taught outside Morocco, mainly in Tunisia and Algeria; and 21 apparently

ceased teaching.1
The institutionalization of Hebrew and Jewish education at the AIU
schools as planned since 1951 was by no means an easy task. While there
were AIU general education teachers who welcomed the reforms, there
were also teachers, some of whom were francophiles and communists,
who were determined to sabotage all efforts for increasing Hebrew edu
cation. Therefore, the struggle to give the AIU schools a greater Jewish
character, particularly during the early 1950s, was a protracted one. Yet
the pressure that was put on the AIU to continue the reforms and
improve the pedagogical level of the Hebrew teachers, directed from the
ENH and the AJDC, gradually led to positive results.
Furthermore, not all ENH graduates teaching at the AIU schools felt
that they were carrying out effective reforms. They were self-critical and
expressed their views to the educational inspectors who supervised their
work. They sought constantly to improve, and the teaching of Hebrew
studies five to seven hours weekly was seen as a handicap. Nevertheless,
even if the ENH cadres were more pedagogically qualified in the 1960s
The <Aliya from Morocco 161
than they had been in the 1950s, the beginnings of reform were already
felt at the AIU schools in the early or mid-1950s.
By 1956 when Morocco achieved its independence, the ENH had
gradually replaced many underqualified rabbi-teachers of Judaic and
Hebrew studies with its own graduates, instituted reforms in Jewish
education, and slowly raised the standards of that education with the
assistance of the AJDC and the Jewish Agency’s emissaries who were
active in Morocco from the late 1940s.
From the early 1950s there were Jewish Agency emissaries teaching
at the ENH itself. The Department of Torah Education in the Diaspora
of the Jewish Agency organized short seminars for educators, helped
principals of religious schools improve their curriculum, and provided
pedagogical guidance for teachers. They contributed significantly to the
work of the 0$àr ha-Torah schools, the teachers’ seminaries, the kinder
gartens, the Hebrew Commission s courses (organized in 1949 by Rouche,
the communities, and the AJDC during evenings, weekends, and vaca
tion), and to the programs of the ENH.
At the end of 1955, as Morocco was moving toward independence, the
Israelis sent by the Jewish Agency to teach in the various schools began
to anticipate difficulties. There were two reasons to justify their concerns.
First, the AIU was anxious to introduce Arabic into the ENH and the
other schools even before being forced to do so by the Moroccan author
ities. Second, the AIU was determined to disassociate itself from the
Israelis in the public eye. cAkiva Kostenbaum, chief emissary of the
Jewish Agency’s Department of Torah Education in the Diaspora, was
informed that Tajouri, chief delegate of the AIU since 1940, had com
plained that the Israelis were giving too many lessons at the ENH and
Moroccan Jewish teachers had to replace them. We have been unable to
determine if such pressure resulted in the withdrawal of Kostenbaum’s
staff from the ENH, or, if so, the precise period of such a withdrawal.
There were other ENH/Israel connections. Since 1950, the Jewish
Agency and the Hebrew University of Jerusalem showed considerable
interest in the ENH and, through these institutions, the ENH instituted
a special certificate, administered by examination from the Hebrew Uni
versity of Jerusalem, known as “the Jerusalem Certificate. ’’ Though cer
tainly not a carte blanche for admission to an Israeli university, the
certificate examination, which tested knowledge of the fundamentals of
Hebrew language and culture, was recognized by the Hebrew Univer
sity. It exempted applicants who held the certificate from certain en
trance examinations in Hebrew. The certificate aimed at attracting edu
cated emigrants from Morocco to study in Israel.
In addition, for several years the Department of Torah Education in
the Diaspora conducted a special summer seminar in Israel for graduates
and students of the ENH of Casablanca. It was due partly to political
factors and to Moroccan independence that the AIU decided to shift the
seminar to the Orsay school near Paris during the summer of 1956. This
was done in collaboration with the above-mentioned department of the
Jewish Agency and the Eclaireurs Israélites de France (EIF). In subse
quent years such seminars were conducted by the ENH in Laversine,
France.
The ENH curriculum in the 1950s was both demanding and challeng
ing. For example, the history of the Jewish people was taught through
the modern period. According to Rouche:
We taught the future faculty of the AIU schools the history of the Jewish people
until 1860, with the great renaissance of the Alliance Israélite Universelle. From
time to time we taught them about Jewish historical events since 1860, as so
much had happened in the Jewish world by the time World War I broke out.
However, we deemphasized Zionist history. The reasons were that the ENH was
not an ideological center for Zionism, and we did not wish to alienate the French
and Moroccan authorities.2
It is obvious, however, that the ENH teaching staff, and the Israelis who
gave Hebrew lessons, could not avoid altogether discussing matters relat
ing to political Zionism. Even the apolitical bulletin of the ENH student
body, B ikku rlm , occasionally included information regarding Zionist po
litical leaders and events.
Jewish ethics (m üsar), Hebrew literature, and Hebrew were taught;
as Rouche remarked:
We taught [the students] about the Haskala movement . . . and the literature of
Y. L. Gordon, Tshernichovsky, 5Ahad Ha cam and Chaim Nahman Bialik. The
opponents of the AIU were no longer justified in accusing us of dejudaization. A
complete education of both traditional and modem Judaism was provided in the
school. The support for the ENH and the AIU schools in Morocco was gradually
enhanced because of the teachers* training program. Children from the most
remote communities of the Atlas mountains enrolled at the ENH and, in fact,
one of the most vociferously anti-AIU rabbis, the great Baruch Toledano of
Meknès, sent his grandchild to study at the EN H .3
The ENH program sometimes deviated from the prescribed theoreti

cal structure outlined in tables 13 and 14, lasting from 8:00 a . m . to 8:00
P.M. daily with small breaks and time off for sports activities. Issachar
Ben-Ami, a graduate of the first class of 1951, recalled:
We would go to our teachers’ homes and spend considerable time with them.
They were extremely encouraging. The work load for us at the school was
enormous, for it meant attending two cou rs com plém en taires at the same time:
one secular and one Jewish. I was able after graduating from the ENH to speak
fluent Hebrew. You cannot imagine the joy and satisfaction we had when my
students at the advanced classes of the Narcisse Leven school in Casablanca
could, after some time, converse with me in Hebrew.4
Until 1955 it was Rouche who guided the ENH programs and Jewish
educational reforms, influencing the AIU primary schools and cours
com plém entaires. David §arfatl, presently the director of the AIU’s Paris
teachers’ training college, and a graduate of the 1951 class of the ENH,
noted that Rouche developed at the school a training program for teach
ers that combined traditional Jewish education and modernity. Following
Rouche’s death in 1983, Sarfatï spoke in his honor, saying that owing to
his efforts, Hebrew as early as the 1950s became a language for conveying
ideas, a langue v éh icu laire, utilized at the ENH as in any Israeli school.
While modern Jewish/Hebrew literature had become familiar to edu
cated Moroccan Jews before the 1940s, it was Rouche who, in only
several years, integrated this component systematically into his school.
Rouche’s knowledge was a model for the ENH student to emulate:
Torah, Mishna, Talmud, and Maimonides cohabitated at the ENH with
Hebrew grammar and language as well as with modem and contempo
rary Jewish literature. Jewish traditional liturgy was taught alongside
modern Israeli poems.5
In the latter half of 1955 Rouche was replaced as ENH director by
Emile Sebban. The exact reasons for his departure are disputed. Accord
ing to one source, at least, though an energetic personality, Rouche was
disliked by some of Morocco’s most powerful rabbis and notables for his
rationalist tendencies, often relying on reason as the basis for establishing
religious truth. While in his native land of Algeria, or in France, such an
approach would hardly have been questioned, this was not the case in
Jewish Morocco— the cradle of Jewish traditionalism. The AIU was thus
pressured to remove him from his post.6
The toughest component which this researcher encountered when
dealing with the role of the ENH teachers in the AIU’s schools concerns
the method of teaching Hebrew. Was the language taught in the same
way as in Israel— clv rit be-H vrit (Hebrew taught in Hebrew)? During
interviews I had conducted with AIU alumni who studied under ENH
teachers as well as with the ENH educators themselves, the information
obtained was varied, confusing, and inconclusive. Several alumni and
ENH teachers (Issachar Ben-Ami and Albert Hazan, for instance) insisted
that spoken Hebrew was applied in the classroom. Others, like David
Sarfatl, noted that, while Hebrew was utilized as a living language at the
EN H , this was not necessarily the case in other AIU schools, as some
teachers did not conduct classes in Hebrew.
It seems that 7 vrit b e-cIvrit may have been propagated in certain
schools by ENH teachers but certainly not in all of them. Moreover, by
1956 as well as beyond, the AIU was still unable to replace all the
outmoded Judaic studies teachers with their ENH counterparts. There
were hundreds of old-style rabbi-teachers, or semiqualified non-ENH
personnel, who continued to take charge of Jewish education at the AIU.
Though a significant dent had been made in the struggle against educa
tional mediocrity, the task was far from completion and the quality of the
Judaic/Hebrew education as late as 1959-60 was uneven.
W hether or not spoken or modern Hebrew was used extensively
outside the ENH there can be no doubt that ENH graduates taught
Hebrew literature and Israeli songs as late as 1956 and perhaps later,
thus familiarizing Jewish youths at the AIU with aspects of the living
language, as well as laying the groundwork for caliya and integration into
Israeli society. As Sarfatl observed:
The Programs included courses on Jewish tradition and Israeli literature for the
advanced classes, as well as Hebrew language. However, it would be wrong to
think that com plete Hebrew literature courses were taught. On the other hand,
short poems and texts in prose were taught, representing the work of the most
renowned Israeli poets. Israeli songs were an integral part of our Jewish program
at the AIU primary schools. These songs familiarized the youths with aspects of
the contemporary Hebrew language and culture. And 1 think it is accurate to
assert that, the elementary knowledge acquired by our Moroccan students at the
end of the BEPCS degree level, enabled them to easily manage, once in Israel,
to adjust to spoken Israeli Hebrew.7
E du cation ally, then, the AIU asisted the caliya process. Politically, its
position during the mid-1950s was carefully formulated but nevertheless
quite clear. On the one hand, Cassin held the position that France and,
after 1956, the Moroccans should respect the desire of the Jews to
emigrate. On the other hand, Braunschvig and Tajouri took the position
that aliy a, conducted by Cadima, had to be selective and orderly. Even
if the French intended to impose occasional restrictions on Zionist activ
ity, Moroccan Jewish leaders and Jewish organizations in America had to
avoid attacking the Residency or the French government. Braunschvig
did not think that criticism leveled against the French would necessarily
lift restrictions, or, for that matter, persuade them to increase caliya. The
French, he argued, tolerated Cadima as long as it carried out its pro
grams discreetly.
When Lacoste took initial steps to reduce emigration to seven hundred
per month, Braunschvig, who had known the resident-general, was deeply
concerned that, in view of the nationalist struggle for independence and
the prevalence of general insecurity, caliya might become an early vic
tim. Yet he urged the Israeli Ministry for Foreign Affairs not to pressure
the French by way of American public opinion. He proposed that exten
sive negotiations over this issue be held in the future between the
French and Israeli governments. If additional pressure were to be ap
plied on the French, it would have to be on the initiative of French
Jewry. The French, both Braunschvig and Cassin believed, were ex
tremely sensitive about American pressure and the continued U.S. mili
tary presence in Morocco as factors that might threaten French hege
mony. Besides, since the French subsidized the AIU schools, AIU
representatives in Morocco and France had to be careful not to antago
nize the Residency.8
Tajouri was equally blunt— if not more so. Emigration to Israel, he
said, was a desirable phenomenon. It had to be orderly, with Cadima
making every effort to prevent “la psychose daffolement” (the psychosis
of panic) among the Jews.9 The AIU had indeed adapted to the new post-
1945 political climate in the Jewish world. However, does this mean that
all the Paris leaders or, for that matter, the teachers and school directors
in Morocco supported the Braunschvig-Cassin-Tajouri position? In fact,
a portion of the staff in Morocco opposed or, at best reluctantly accepted,

post-1945 Jewish educational reforms and had strong anti-Zionist lean
ings. Yet among the staff we find activists who had been assisting caliya
since 1949. According to Gdalia Paz o f cAliyat ha-No car, AIU teachers
assisted him in organizing emigration, particularly in the communities of
Ouezzan, Sefrou, Safi, and F e z .10
Far more active on the caliya issue was the AJDC. We have seen that
in Morocco, Israel, and Europe, the AJDC collaborated with the Jewish
Agency and the Mossad Le cAliya. Certainly, the AJDC sought to im
prove the socioeconomic standards of Moroccan Jewry. But it simulta
neously assisted Israel in better organizing emigration. Doubtless, the
AJDC’s presence in Morocco was further prompted by Israel s existence.
One of the main reasons for the increase in the AJDC’s program in
Morocco after 1948 was because Moroccan Jews were streaming across
the Mediterranean to the jointly run Jewish Agency transit camps in
Marseilles, and many of them had to be cared for socially and medically
before emigration. As we have seen, during the period that Cadima
functioned under the auspices of the Mossad Le cAliya, the apparatus
was initiated with AJDC financial assistance; the caliya, too, would not
have been possible without AJDC funds.11
AJDC collaboration with the Mossad Le cAliya and the Jewish Agency,
though by no means continuously harmonious, suggests that its officials
in Morocco and Europe did not believe that the Jews had, economically,
any kind of future in the country and that emigration was a major long
term objective. Already in December 1948, Judah J. Shapiro, then the
AJDC director of education for Europe, had traveled to Morocco to
survey emigration. During a meeting with the Protectorate’s educational
authorities, Shapiro was told that the sultan was disturbed by the knowl
edge that a sizable portion of the Jewish population wished to leave
Morocco and was departing illegally. The American consul at Rabat
explained to him that the sultan feared disruption of his economy as a
result of emigration en m asse. 12
Shapiro dismissed the argument that the Jews were an economic asset
to the sultan. They simply had no place in the economy, which was a real
reason for their desire to leave for Israel. He put the blame squarely on
the AIU which he suspected of promoting these false theories among the
sultan’s ministers and concluded:
We can and must quite properly discuss with the French government on the
highest level, what their own plans are for the Jews of Morocco. In this respect
the AIU has been the spokesman before government officials and I obtained the
impression reluctantly and sadly that it is more eager to reveal itself as a loyal
and understanding French organization than as an aggressive and militant protec
tor of the Jewish position. The inability of the Jewish population to emigrate
despite lack of economic opportunities in Morocco is something that must be
discussed boldly. There is nothing wrong in an American organization such as
ours in raising the question about emigration opportunities for downtrodden
Jew s.13
This position on the AIU and emigration was not the commonly
accepted policy of the AJDC. During the 1950s, the ties between the
AJDC and the AIU were fortified, if only to collaborate in promoting
educational policies that would prepare Jewish youths for eventual ab
sorption into Israeli society. Even its position on caliya in general was,
after 1949, expressed in moderate tones in order to avoid antagonizing
the French who had unethusiastically permitted the AJDC, an American
organization, to function within the confines of the Protectorate.
Added to its efforts before 1951 to finance the emigration process
conducted by the Mossad Le cAliya and the Jewish Agency, the AJDC
continuously subsidized and promoted Hebrew cultural education and
assisted local Zionists with the obvious goal of preparing the Jews for
caliy a. 14
The position of the AJDC on caliya was strikingly similar to the policies
of the Jewish Agency and the State of Israel. By 1954-55, all agreed that
the economic conditions of the Jews had begun to deteriorate, and, in
the wake of the spreading struggle for independence, the French might
attempt to cement the cracks in the Moroccan edifice by offering eco
nomic and political palliatives detrimental to the status of the Jews. At
the end of May 1955, ten months before Morocco became formally
independent, Moses W. Beckleman and Samuel L. Haber (then AJDC
— Morocco director) shared the position that health and social criteria
should continue to be applied in screening candidates for caliya. This, of
course, did not mean that: (1) in both AJDC and Jewish Agency circles
there was not a definite inclination to increase the yearly quota of emigra
tion while maintaining selectivity; and (2) if and when the Jews might be
in physical danger a rescue operation should be ruled out. As Haber
succinctly put it in 1954:
We hope we will be allowed a longer period but five years is enough for planning
— a plan which would involve constructive work in the villages so that the young
who, today, cannot be accepted for emigration because of the infirmities or social
conditions of the elders, will be eligible in a few years’ time and will be better
prepared for life in Israel. . . . Israel represents for the vast majority of Moroccan
Jewry, the only haven if the political and economic climate continues to deterio
rate. Under such conditions they will be unable to remain in Morocco, and they
have no other place to go. While time may be running out for Moroccan Jews, it
is reasonable to assume and to hope that we shall not be faced with a rescue or
disaster operation, and that the government of Israel and the Jewish Agency will
have time to plan an orderly evacuation over a reasonable long period of tim e.15
In other words: a disciplined, selective, orderly emigration to enable

Israel to absorb the emigrants effectively.
The World Jewish Congress (WJC) had existed since 1936, struggling
for the rights of man and the improvement of the political status of the
Jews worldwide. In the late 1940s, its main sections were in London,
Paris, and New York when it began to focus its attention on North Africa,
particularly on the Jewish communities of Morocco and Tunisia. In 1949,
a section of the W JC was created in Morocco through the initiative of
influential local Jews, notably Zéidé Schulman, a Zionist activist and
businessman of Ashkenazi origin, J. R. Toledano, Meir Toledano, and
Vitalis Altun. The section was comprised of branches in several commu
nities— Casablanca, Meknès, Fez, Port Lyautey, and Oudjda. All these
were subordinate to a central committee in Casablanca and to the central
W JC office for North Africa, run by Jacques Lazarus, a former activist
in both the French Resistance and the Hagana. Through the local activ
ists and Lazarus, the Political Bureau of the W JC in London, directed by
Alexander L. Easterman, and the French section, led by Pierre Dreyfus-
Schmidt, received ample data on the condition of North African Jewry in
the postwar period. This important source of information existed until
the summer of 1959 when the government of independent Morocco
closed the W JC branches.
The W JC position among its local activists as well as in Europe and
the United States was that as long as the political situation in Morocco
was stable, the struggle for independence impending but still dormant,
and as long as Jewish emigration from Morocco to Israel or elsewhere
had not reached major proportions, every effort had to be made to fight
for improved Jewish rights in Morocco; that is, to persuade the French
The 'Aliya from Morocco 169
to enhance Jewish participation in the administrative apparatus, in gov

ernmental bodies, and in the modem economic sector, in view of the
education that the Jews were increasingly acquiring through the AIU and
Protectorate schools, primary as well as secondary.16
In a report submitted by the W JC Moroccan section to the W JC third
plenary session, meeting in Geneva in August 1953, it was stated explic
itly that, given the enormous challenges of emigrant absorption in Israel
and the lack of economic means on the part of most emigrants who could,
therefore, not become absorbed immediately into Israeli society, the
W JC leadership in Morocco thought it prudent to encourage caliya by
quality rather than in quantity. Israel needed the physically strong, the
educated, and those who could easily find their place in the economy.
The report emphasized that this policy had been almost unanimously
adopted by the W JC Casablanca Central Committee in view of the
political realities of the times: in 1953, as in the previous four years, the
Jewish population confronted no dangers.17
In the effort to obtain political concessions on the Jews’ behalf, the
W JC during the years 1955-56 did not rule out the possibility that
France might grant Morocco independence. Easterman and Joseph Gouldin
(Golan), political secretary of the W JC president, Dr. Nahum Goldmann,
had established ties with Moroccan nationalists, especially with the pro
gressive wing of the Istiqlàl party led by Mehdi Ben Barka. As Golan
revealed in April 1956 when Morocco had already obtained indepen
dence, the W JC had been in contact for two years with the leaders of the
Istiqlàl and other semiclandestine movements. Golan and Easterman,
according to this version, agreed to support the nationalist cause in
international forums provided the nationalists would, on the proper oc
casion (independence), honor Jewish rights, provide the Jews with citi
zenship in the new Morocco, and grant them freedom of movement.
Ben-Barka, in particular, praised the W JC and promised to cooperate.18
Actually, even following the outbreak of violence and the struggle for
independence, the W JC in Morocco, Europe, and the United States
went out of its way to avoid publicly antagonizing either the French or
the nationalists over the emigration issue. Following the statement, late
in August 1954 in New York, by Moshe Kol, head of cAliyat ha-No car,
that a “plan” existed for transferring 450,000 North African Jews to Israel,
a statement regarded as totally irresponsible, even by the highest govern
ment officials in Israel, Easterman was perturbed. In a note sent to
Moshe Sharett, Israel's premier and minister for foreign affairs, he indi
cated that this statement, though obviously not reflecting either Israel or
the Jewish Agency's position, and serving merely as a gimmick for enlist
ing financial support from American Jews, had been widely publicized in
the Moroccan press. It had caused extreme consternation in the Jewish
community and disquiet in French and Muslim circles.19
This did not mean, however, that behind the scenes the W JC was not
reconsidering some of its policies. Following the series of events in which
the nationalists called for returning Muhammad V to the throne from
exile as well as independence, Easterman came to believe that emigra
tion on a larg er scale was inevitable. Comparing the nationalist move
ment in Morocco, the Istiqlàl included, to the secular Neo-Destour
movement in Tunisia, Easterman did not think, given the conservative
nature of Moroccan nationalism, that the Jews, as a large community,
could hope for genuine coexistence with the Muslims.20 Still, he argued
that a reduced Jewish community would always exist there and, there
fore, contacts with the nationalists were essential. Goldmann, too, now
favored increased caliya but, like Easterman, did not think it had to be
accomplished as an evacuation operation. During the August 1955 ses
sion in Jerusalem of the General Council of the World Zionist Organiza
tion, he stated that: “It is perfectly correct that the emigration of North
African Jewry must take place in Israel. But no Zionist program provides
that it must be in 1955!"21
The W JC Moroccan Executive supported the position of the Moroccan
Zionist organization which in 1955 called for an caliya of at least 5,000
persons per month as opposed to the Jewish Agency's quota of approxi
mately 2,000. In this sense, they shared Easterman's position but took it
further. In contrast to their policy of 1953 calling for “quality emigra
tion," they submitted a report on 24 January 1955 to the W JC in Paris
suggesting that: while the possibility that the Petitjean massacre was an
isolated event should not be ruled out, the Jews in the villages of south
ern Morocco were exposed to arbitrary measures adopted by local Mus
lim officials. Although the same was not the case in Casablanca, Marrak
esh, Essaouira, or Fez, since police protection was regularly afforded to
the Jews and European residents, the escalation of violence was bound
to get worse. True, the Jews claimed to be neutral in the Moroccan-
French struggle, but everyone knew that in reality they were pro-French.
Economically, too, the future was not promising. Jewish businessmen
were being boycotted by Muslims in both small towns and major cities.
Without substantiating its claim, the W JC Moroccan leadership observed
that Muslim merchants and artisans were being encouraged by the na
tionalists to boycott Jewish merchants in order to eliminate “la concur
rence juive” (Jewish competition). Moreover, serious unemployment
prevailed among the Jews: as mentioned earlier, the Americans had
employed many of them in construction, but they no longer needed their
services.22 Hence, in view of the economic and political crises, emigra
tion seemed the most viable alternative.23
The rapid pace of events in Morocco caused further confusion in the
ranks of the W JC. In August 1955, a top-level French-Moroccan confer
ence took place at Aix-les-Bains. It resulted in a compromise providing
for the removal of Sultan Ben cArafa and the formation of a Moroccan
government headed by Si M’Barek Bekkaï, a close confidant of Muham
mad V, a political independent, and the governor of Sefrou. On 16
November 1955, the sultan returned to Morocco from Madagascar, while
further negotiations led, on 3 March 1956, to the abrogation of the
Protectorate Treaty of 1912 and the recognition of Morocco’s indepen
dence. Although the majority of the W JC representatives in North Africa
and Europe supported large-scale caliy a, some, especially younger rep
resentatives in Morocco, now tended to oppose it. This was the case with
Meir Toledano, who ranked among those advocating Jewish integration
and assimilation into the new Morocco.
In September 1955 Toledano published an article in L e M onde, in
which he described the Moroccan nationalist movement as “natural and
irresistible. ” If, he wrote, instead of thwarting a natural and irresistible
movement, France would facilitate the political development of Mo
rocco, the grateful Moroccan people would never be able to contest the
established rights of France in Morocco, the exercise of which was essen
tial to France s role as a great world power. Moroccan Jewry, too, had to
rally behind the idea of a free Morocco.24
What was the actual position of the W JC as an organization on the
eve of independence? The older Moroccan representatives and those
representing the Algiers and European sections, though satisfied that
during the negotiations at Aix-les-Bains Istiqlàli leaders broached the
matter of including a Jewish minister in the first Moroccan cabinet (an
offer made good when Dr. Léon Benzaquen was appointed in 1956 as
minister of posts and telegraphs),25 articulated their arguments through
Jacques Lazarus. The latter asserted in October 1955 that henceforth

Moroccan Jewry's future needed to be conditioned by two necessities.
First, caliya, which implied that those Jews who were determined to
settle in Israel should have the opportunity to do so. This major problem
could not be avoided, most particularly at a time when economic burdens
pressed heavily on the Jews. And besides, Morocco's Muslims had to
understand what the State of Israel represented to every Jew; they must
not attempt to restrict the passion of those who, moved by centuries-old
sentiments, turned their hopes to the second fatherland. Second, inte
gration because caliya alone would not solve the Jewish problem. The
poor and disinherited had departed. Only a small fraction of the middle
class was contemplating caliya. Furthermore, the number of emigrants
was balanced by the natural birth rate.26
Continuing to support large-scale caliya but opposing mass evacuation,
Easterman expressed extreme dismay in November 1955 about Shragai
who had stated: “100,000 North African Jews are knocking at the Jewish
Agency’s doors demanding immediate emigration before it is too la te ."27
Not only did Easterman doubt that so many Jews were determined to
leave at once but added that the tendency of certain Israeli and Jewish
Agency officials to cry “liar" when Moroccan nationalists gave assurances
of Jewish rights (as they had done at Aix-les-Bains) was counterproduc
tive. The aim, in his opinion, had to be the adoption of a friendly policy
toward the future leaders of North Africa so as to safeguard the flow of
emigration.28
Finally, the American Jewish Committee (AJC), founded in 1906 to
fight for Jewish rights in ways similar to the W JC, had established close
ties with the Moroccan Jewish leadership in 1949— although, unlike the
W JC, it did not have representatives at the local level. As an American
organization eager to cooperate with European and North African Jewry,
the AJC had established a liaison office in Paris. Its representatives,
notably Zachariah Shuster, Max Isenbergh, and Abe Karlikow, had been
dispatched regularly on fact-finding missions to Morocco and Tunisia
since 1950 to press for political reforms and meet Jewish leaders and
French officials.
Unlike the W JC, which was headed by both Zionists and non-Zionists
alike, the AJC was purely an American organization led by non-Zionists.
While not rejecting caliya outright and even understanding Moroccan
Jewish aspirations to settle in Israel, the AJC did not enthusiastically
support it. More than the W JC and the AJDC, it stressed the need for a
struggle for political rights on the Jews* behalf, since the majority of them
would not settle in Israel for quite some time.
From the outset, the AJC painted a negative portrait of the m akhzan
and the French Protectorate. Shuster and Isenbergh, in fact, grossly
distorted the attitude of the sultan toward his Jewish subjects, although
there were certain elements of truth in their overall assessment. The
sultans of Morocco, they claimed, considered the Jews as guests, individ
uals who, not being nationals of the country, could, however, benefit
from the protection given a guest. Such protection never attained the
level of a right or a legal obligation. It was a favor, a moral obligation,
but not a legal one. Moreover, the Jews were always at the mercy of the
sultan: his whims and will were the only law, and there was no other
legal consideration that would intervene to limit the arbitrariness or
cupidity of the suzerain.29
The French, too, were responsible for the politically unstable position
of the Jews, according to the AJC. The establishment of the French
Protectorate did not bring with it French principles concerning the rights
of man or the French civil code. The rights of the Jews were not men
tioned at all in the Franco-Moroccan Protectorate Treaty of 30 March
1912. Rather, a slow process of social and political evolution had begun
which, in the post-1945 period, was very far from completion. The main
contribution of the French was their guarantee and protection of the
Jews* basic physical security.30
Pointing with great accuracy to the French as the force responsible for
maintaining a policy of “équ ilibré social” (social balance) among both
Muslims and Jews, Shuster and Isenbergh argued that the French had
no intention of undoing the basic legal system prevailing in Morocco
which was based on Quranic interpretations. The French showed defer
ence to the customs, mores, and laws practiced through the centuries by
the Sharifian sultanate. They always emphasized that their aim was to
respect the beliefs and traditions of the indigenous population, whether
they were Muslims or Jews. The French recognized that, for this reason,
Jews could not be chosen to exercise the functions of governors or
administrators within the m akh zan , and owing to the perpetual alle
giance that both Muslims and Jews were required to pledge to the sultan,
the Jews could not acquire French or any other citizenship. Neverthe
less, the French refrained from putting pressure on the Moroccan au-
thorities to introduce reforms in the status of the Jews. As we noted

before, they did define ways in which French citizenship could be ac
quired in Morocco, but the Jews were virtually ineligible, for they could
become French only if their mothers were living in France at the time
they applied for citizenship, or if they had performed exceptional services
in the French army for a considerable period of tim e.31
Economically, Shuster and Isenbergh observed that the Jews in the
m ellàhs earned a living as small traders and merchants. Their shops were
tiny stalls where the Jewish entrepreneur “squatted with his wares/'
Other Jews were artisans and craftsmen. It is noteworthy that an increas
ing number of inhabitants of the m ellàhs managed to raise themselves
out of these quarters to live in the European sections of the cities. In the
b le d , the Jews were actually peddlers making a living by traveling from
village to village with a stack of goods, at the same time buying the
agricultural products of the Muslims for resale. An unfavorable trend was
that Muslims had begun encroaching since 1945 on trades and occupa
tions, such as tailoring and shoemaking, hitherto left to the Jews. In the
interior, the roads built by the French and the accessibility of buses and
trains were cutting into the business of the Jewish peddlers, who had not
successfully developed alternative occupations on a sufficient scale.32
When the AJDC reached similar conclusions, it encouraged its repre
sentatives to consider the caliya option. This was not the case with
Shuster and Isenbergh. True, they argued, the tangible French assis
tance to the Jews had been disappointingly insignificant, since they had
studiously avoided implementing reforms they felt would unnecessarily
antagonize the Muslims and did not wish to appear more generous to the
Jews than to the Muslims. Yet these and other unfortunate realities did
not legitimize caliya, also seeing that after the great initial wave of illegal
emigration between June 1948 and December 1949, there had come a
slower pace which had continued since. Shuster and Isenbergh raised
two reasons for this change of pace: first, Moroccan Jews had the feeling
of being somewhat less welcome in Israel than Europeans, and faced
great difficulties in establishing themselves economically, a fact that had
become known to Jews in Morocco; and second, the strain on Israel's
absorption capabilities had caused the establishment of a system of prior
ities such as health selection of caliya candidates whereby many were
rejected by the Mossad Le cAliya. Besides, because Moroccan Jews had

gone to Israel in 1947-49 untrained and unprepared, hundreds of them
had returned to Morocco by 1950.33
Even if a rosy future did not await the Jews of Morocco, the AJC Paris
office representatives argued, the battle for the political and social ame
lioration of the Jews in French Morocco had to be fought. First, even the
most catastrophic future developments could not lead to all Jews leaving
Morocco. Second, total emigration to Israel for almost a quarter of a
million people, even if it could be accomplished, would take a very long
time. Therefore, a political battle had to be fought in Morocco first and
foremost, in order to pressure the French to appoint Jewish legal asses
sors to deal with litigation in the Sharifian courts involving Jews who,
whatever reforms might be implemented, would remain subject to Qur
anic law in domestic and penal matters where the Muslims were also
involved. Further, there was need to pressure the French to supervise
the Muslim courts closely to see that legal decisions affecting Jews were
not discriminatory.34
The major challenge was to encourage the Residency and the French
government to persuade the m akhzan to go along with these and other
suggestions for improving the Jews' status. The AJC Paris office under
stood that the French government was extremely sensitive toward any
American initiative regarding Morocco. As a consequence, direct politi
cal intervention by the AJC was imprudent, especially in view of Wash
ington’s desire not to worry the French. The focal point for political
intervention had to be Paris, where the major lines of policy for Morocco
were drawn, despite the wide powers left to the sultan and the shadowy
areas of Moroccan sovereignty where it was not certain whether the
French or the sultan made the effective decisions. More important,
perhaps, the AJC could enlist the good offices of the French AIU whose
representatives had close ties with the Quai d’Orsay. As Shuster and
Isenbergh noted:
The Alliance Israélite is p erson a grata with the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. It is
highly sophisticated and experienced in Moroccan problems. And it maintains
continuous contact in the field. Therefore, our every effort regarding Morocco
should be made in close cooperation with the Alliance. The AJC can contribute
its international skill, and— in those situations where it is deemed necessary after
due deliberations — its contacts with the U.S. authorities.
We believe it is advisable, therefore, that a committee on Moroccan affairs be
formed in Paris, consisting of the Alliance and ourselves, to serve as a central
planning and coordination board for political action. We feel the Alliance some
times has a tendency to exaggerate French sensitivity regarding Morocco and
thus does not act as often as it should for fear of possible French government
repercussions. Such a committee moreover, should keep close contact with the
efforts of the other Jewish agencies working in Morocco, like the AJDC, because
political, welfare and relief programs interplay so closely in dealing with Moroc
can Jewish affairs.35
cAliya, then, was an issue of secondary importance at best for AJC, the
least salient issue for them of all the organizations active on Moroccan
Jewry's behalf. We have been unable to determine if the AIU and AJC
formed a committee on Moroccan affairs following Shuster s and Isen-
bergh's suggestions. It is known, however, that the AIU and AJC, to
gether with the London-based Anglo-Jewish Association, became part of
the Consultative Council of Jewish Organizations (CCJO) which fought
for Jewish rights throughout the world and was represented at the United
Nations as a nongovernmental organization. The AIU also joined with
the W JC in the early or mid-1950s to champion the political rights of
North African Jewry.36
In August 1954, following the Petitjean incident, Shuster met Ya cakov
Tsur at the Israeli Embassy in Paris following conversations he had in
Morocco with the authorities. Tsur reported to Sharett that during their
conversation Shuster seemed convinced that i f Morocco (and Tunisia)
were to obtain independence from France, partially or fully, emigration
might become a suitable option. Yet, as independence was not around
the com er for Morocco, caliya had to be orderly; furthermore, if indepen
dence were granted, the Istiqlàl, sensitive to public opinion in the West,
would not immediately adopt the Arab League s anti-Israel policies in
cluding a ban or restriction on Jewish emigration. The interval of several
years had to be exploited by the Jewish organizations to foster ties with
the nationalists without, of course, the organizations becoming oblivious
to the Jews' best interests.37 By October of that year, the AJC had once
again reverted to its old policy: French colonialism would not endure
much longer, but it would be better to encourage the Jews to remain in
Morocco and to encourage the AIU to teach Arabic, while AJC would be
prepared to assist local communities in building more schools and syn

agogues.38
Shutting the Gates: The Moroccan Government

and the WJC
During the first half of 1956, it became increasingly evident that the
Cadima operation would have to overcome enormous difficulties in order
to survive. Already, following the August 1955 Aix-les-Bains Conference,
Amos Rabl, who had knowledge about nationalist activities, reported that
the future leaders of Morocco were, in part, young intellectuals who
sought to improve the lot of all Moroccans. Several of them, however,
were pro-Egyptian and encouraged cooperation with the Arab League.
Rabl now seemed less worried about political problems facing the Jews,
a feeling not shared by his other colleagues. He was inclined to believe
that the real issue was not if the nationalists would or would not grant
the Jews equal rights; the issue was that they intended to demand of
them equal dedication to the national interest, a demand most Jews
preferred to ignore. For instance, the proposal, in December 1955, to
create a Moroccan national army caused concern among Jewish youths.
They feared being forced to join it plus the possibility of being sent to
remote parts of Morocco where no one could guarantee their safety
among hundreds or thousands of Moroccan Muslims.39
Regarding caliya, Rabl did not think it was realistic to assume that Si
M’Barek Bekkaï, cAllàl al-Fàsî, or Mehdi Ben Barka, among others,
would continue to tolerate Cadima. The provisional government that was
taking over from the French opposed caliya on the grounds that young
Jews would join the Israel Defense Forces and fight the Egyptians. Only
with American and French diplomatic intervention could caliya con
tinue.40
Indeed, even the moderate Arabic-language organ of the Parti Démo
cratique dTndépendance, al-R a5 y al-cAmm, suggested in an editorial
several days before independence that Rabl be expelled and the Cadima
transit camp shut down:
The people of this institutions and its director should he considered enemies of
Morocco; and it is the duty of Moroccan Jewry to demand energetically the
closure of this institution and the expulsion of all foreign [emissaries] back to
their country of origin. It is our duty to announce this demand from the columns
of this paper.41
At the beginning of May 1956, the Cadima representatives in Midelt,

Arfud, and Qasr al-Suq in the Atlas mountains area were requested to
present themselves to the local Moroccan authorities and were given
direct instructions not to encourage Jews to undergo medical examina
tions or leave for Casablanca. In Meknès, Oudjda, Sefrou, and Ouezzan
the local Cadima employees felt threatened and fled, while in Beni-
Mellal, Oued-Zem, and Taroudant the caliya screening team was pre
vented by the Muslim population from conducting their work. Dr. Léon
Benzaquen, the Jewish minister of posts and telegraphs, requested that
local Jewish physicians, O SE personnel included, cease to assist the
Jewish Agency in conducting medical examinations, otherwise their ca
reers in independent Morocco would be in jeopardy. The request was
not honored by all of these physicians.42
Sometime toward mid-May Rabl went to Rabat. Following conversa
tions with a French official working in the new administration, as well as
with Moroccan officials, he was informed that in the future there would
be no obstacles in the way of individual emigration anywhere. Yet the
authorities would no longer tolerate the presence of foreigners organizing
large-scale emigration from their country. Rabl was told it was pointless
on his part to negotiate concessions or seek a political compromise, for
this decision originated from high cabinet level.43
As events unfolded after the beginning of May, Jewish Agency officials
in Jerusalem and Paris entertained the possibility that Cadima might not
survive in its present status, and that organized large-scale emigration
would thus be stopped. Hope still remained, though, that negotiations
with the Moroccans might, after all, result in a compromise. Shragai also
considered an option whereby “a French association would open an office
in Casablanca and other major cities and (under its guise) Jewish Agency
personnel could work there as officials, first alongside Cadima and later
in place of it.’* He contended that to accomplish the plan the new envoys
to be dispatched to Morocco should have nothing to do with Cadima and
would be versed in Arabic and French so they could blend more effec
tively into the local scene than their predecessors.44 Shragai did not give
up.
There was also the option to bribe Moroccan officials, including Mu
hammad Laghzaoui, the director-general of national security, and a fer
vent opponent of caliya. N. Ben-Menachem, a representative of the
Jewish Agency’s Immigration Department, believed that Laghzaoui could
be bribed in which case he would influence the Moroccan cabinet to
permit organized emigration to continue. It seems that the governors of
Qasr al-Suq and Midelt were willing to moderate their opposition to
caliya in return for 300,000 francs each, payable by Cadima. Ben-Mena
chem and Cadima s Rabl, Wilner, and Avrahami thought that this oppor
tunity ought not to be missed.45
As we noted, during this period Israel’s Mossad had developed a self-
defense apparatus inside Morocco that had nothing to do with caliya. It
was subordinate to Isser Harel, head of Mossad in Israel, and to a special
operational headquarters for North Africa, situated in Paris and directed
by Shlomo Havilio, a former Israeli army officer. The Mossads operation
for Morocco and the rest of North Africa was called Misgeret (or Frame
work). In light of the problems encountered with the caliya, the Mossad
considered stepping into this domain, too, by laying the foundation for
clandestine emigration. A meeting took place between Isser Harel and
Shragai. In accordance with a secret agreement between them, it was
decided that the Mossad and the Jewish Agency’s Immigration Depart
ment would conduct secret caliya once Cadima could no longer function
inside Morocco. The special caliya apparatus of Misgeret, supplementing
the apparatus dealing with self-defense, was to have three centers: in
Jerusalem, Paris, and Casablanca. The Mossad was entrusted with the
operational aspects of the caliya while the Jewish Agency and its Immi
gration Department were to attend to the political and diplomatic as
pects. That is, as the Mossad attended to organizing emigration, the
Jewish Agency would resort to diverse ways and means of influencing the
Moroccan government to permit freedom of movement.46
Our investigation indicates that the agreement was theoretical in na
ture, for as the Mossad/jewish Agency Immigration Department partner
ship solidified, the defined roles for each organization overlapped. Thus,
the Immigration Department sent emissaries to assist the Misgeret in
caliya whereas the Mossad undertook intricate diplomatic and political
missions to diversify the Jewish Agency’s efforts in influencing Moroccan
policies.
In September 1956 Shragai and Harel agreed that the special appa
180 The cAliyafrom Morocco
ratus would function in the former French and Spanish Zones, in Tan
gier, Gibraltar, and other operational stations. The apparatus would be
responsible for all phases of the secret caliy a, including the transfer of
the emigrants to safe shores such as Marseilles and Naples.47 It appears
that in September 1956 some emigrants had left for Israel via the new
underground apparatus, although the important operations were orga
nized beginning in October that year, with special emissaries represent
ing the different political movements in Israel.
We now return to late spring 1956. During the month of May,48 the
Moroccan authorities announced their intentions to close the Cadima
transit camp. Muhammad Laghzaoui, who either refused to accept bribes
or was not offered any, explained the move as necessary on the basis that:
(1) Cadima was a foreign organization recruiting Moroccan citizens for a
foreign country; (2) Moroccan citizens were thus reinforcing the armed
forces of Israel in the conflict with the Middle Eastern states with whom
Morocco had ties of religion and kinship; (3) Morocco was under pressure
from the Middle Eastern Arab states to prevent this reinforcement; (4)
Morocco could not afford to loose the Jews as an important and skilled
element of its population essential in the economic difficulties which
confronted the new State; (5) having accorded full freedom and equality
to the Jews since March 1956, Morocco expected them to fulfill their
obligations to the State and to assist in its regeneration and upbuilding.49
There were unsuccessful efforts by Baruch Duvdevani, Shragai's dep
uty, to negotiate with the Moroccan authorities— starting in May or June
— the departure of some 60,000 emigrants who could leave immediately.
But he had hoped that, at the very least, the Jews at the Cadima camp
would be allowed to go. Duvdevani was a highly experienced official in
the service of the Jewish Agency's Immigration Department. A religious
man, working with Yitshak Raphael, head of the department until 1954,
and with Shragai, Duvdevani devoted an important part of his life to the
North African caliya. He was instrumental in supervising the the emigra
tion agencies in Algeria, Tunisia, and Morocco during the early and mid-
1950s while heading the Immigration Department's Paris office. It was
partly due to his intercession before Shragai and other Jewish Agency
chiefs, that emigration from Morocco gained strength during the final
two years of French colonial rule.
Whilst in Morocco for the negotiations over the camp, Duvdevani also
encouraged his colleagues in Jerusalem to exploit the option that Tangier

was still an international zone (Tangier was integrated into the Moroccan
state only in October 1956), and smuggle through it several thousand
people wishing to leave the former Spanish Zone. In his opinion, the
latter had to be taken out of the country without selection or they would
be “lost forever.”50
What the Jewish Agency did to satisfy Duvdevani is not known at this
stage of the research. Yet we find in Israeli archival sources indications
that during June or July 1956 Cadima managed to evacuate several
hundred Jews per month via Tangier and Gibraltar.51 It should be noted
that as late as September or October 1956, several caliya emissaries still
remained in the country. Notwithstanding this initiative, the main issue
concerned the Cadima offices and transit camp and their continued
survival, for without these organized emigration would be terminated.
Indeed, between 11 and 20 June, Cadimas offices throughout Mo
rocco were officially closed down though their staff was permitted to
enter the premises and conduct the paperwork. The camp was sur
rounded by policemen on horseback. Prior to these developments, and
expecting troubles, Cadima s emissaries, especially Arye Avrahami and
Ya cakov Hasan, went to several villages in the south and brought to
Casablanca a few thousand emigrants who were integrated into the camp.
Moroccan Jews managed on their own initiative to infiltrate the camp
before and after its encirclement by the authorities. The figures on how
many Jews were concentrated in the camp, which theoretically could
hold 1,000 people, vary between 6 ,3 0 0 52 and 9,00c).53
Duvdevani s efforts were reinforced by the Israeli government, partic
ularly following Sharett’s departure from the Ministry for Foreign Affairs
and his replacement by Golda Meir. Golan and Easterman of the W JC
supplemented these efforts. Having acquired the reputation among Mo
roccan nationalists as the “ambassador of the Jew s,” Easterman, like
Golda Meir, did not hesitate to apply pressure on the Moroccans over
emigration by hinting that public opinion in the United States, where
Morocco sought to enlist economic and political support, would turn
against them.
Easterman arrived in Casablanca on 24 May, two weeks before the
Cadima apparatus was formally closed down, but at a time when orga
nized caliya had, for all intents and purposes, been severely curtailed.
Determined to convey the message that any efforts to curb freedom of

movement in the future would have dire consequences, Easterman met
first with Dr. Léon Benzaquen.54
Easterman told him that throughout the many conversations he had
had with nationalist leaders, the general question of Jewish emigration
had been fully and frequently discussed. The W JC had explained to the
nationalists two years earlier the reasons and necessity for Jewish emigra
tion and, on these, the Moroccans had expressed their complete under
standing. They had recognized, both in these conversations and in public
declarations, that emigration was a natural impulse and a democratic
right, and that the future Moroccan state would implement the principle
of emigration in accordance with the provisions of the Universal Decla
ration of Human Rights. If Morocco were to repudiate these rights, not
only would the reputation of the nation gravely deteriorate in the eyes of
Western governments and public opinion, but this would seriously dam
age the political and material interests of Morocco, especially in connec
tion with its application for admission to the United Nations. Further
more, the Jewish world would be so incensed by any prohibition of
emigration that such agitation would invariably create both political and
economic difficulties for Morocco, notably in the United States.55
Benzaquen interjected that there was no question of a change in policy
on the part of the government of which he was a member, but reiterated
the familiar argument that, in the eyes of Moroccans, the Jews were an
important economic factor and therefore, large-scale emigration was con
trary to Morocco s best interests.56
Easterman did not accept this argument. The Jews, assisted by Cad
ima since 1949, had chosen emigration of their own volition, and for
reasons important to them as individuals. He informed Benzaquen that
cAbd al-Qàdir Benjalloun, minister of the treasury, had told him, inter
alia, that “J ews desired to go to Israel for reasons of nostalgia. ” But apart
from this, Easterman suggested that the Jews who had decided to emi
grate to Israel were miserable, poverty-stricken, and of no economic
consequence whatsoever to Morocco. An extremely important fact was
that wealthier and middle-class Jews, the merchants, the industrialists,
and the financiers, were not leaving the country, and were not likely to
do so, unless and until there were a violent deterioration.57
On 31 May 1956, Easterman addressed a letter to Premier Bekkaï,
expressing the greatest regrets that the W JC s attention had to be drawn
to certain measures of an administrative character which appeared de

signed to restrict and even prevent Jews from emigrating. Mentioning
the same grievance expressed in his discussions with Benzaquen and
playing down the Moroccan “economic argument” as a factor arguing
against organized emigration, Easterman warned that restrictions would
be fought relentlessly by the W JC:
The World Jewish Congress has given the fullest support at its command to the
Moroccan government before and after its establishment. We have the sincerest
intention to continue that support in every way available to us. We are convinced
that this support can be of the greatest assistance to the Moroccan State, and we
would, therefore, address a most earnest appeal decision in respect of Jewish
emigration which might adversely affect our faith, our cordial goodwill, and our
desire to see the progress and consolidation of the Moroccan State as a member
of the United Nations.58
Between June and September, lengthy discussions continued with

members of the Moroccan government, an initiative undertaken by East
erman and Golan. According to Easterman, the Moroccan government
adhered to the right to emigration as expressed in the Universal Decla
ration of Human Rights but interpreted its declaration and that of Mu
hammad V (referred to as king since 1957) as applying to individuals and
not to organized emigration, especially as encouraged by Cadima.59 It
seems that the W JC, like Duvdevani, hoped at least to obtain from
Laghzaoui concessions of having the several thousand Jews at the camp
leave. Easterman outlined to Bekka'i the steps and phases of the negotia
tions that anticipated the liquidation of the transit camp three months
from June and the departure of all the people in it, and once the camp
closed, Jews would be permitted to leave Morocco on an individual
basis.60 He also went to Rabat to see to it that an interministerial com
mission under Bekkai's chairmanship approve the principle of the Jews'
departure from the camp, based on the following conditions: that each
individual prove he had no desire to maintain his Moroccan passport; and
that the emigration of those in the camp be carried out almost clandes
tinely so as not to bring the issue into the limelight.61
The W JC ’s role of negotiating with the Moroccan authorities was not
an easy one. Cabinet members who belonged to the Parti Démocratique
d'indépendance leaned toward permitting the Jews already in the camp
to leave. Istiqlàl cabinet members opposed their departure with the
exception of Mahdi Ben-Barka who favored the move. Premier Bekkaï,

who was an independent, also supported the camp s evacuation, and told
his cabinet that it would be unwise to prevent the departure of the
camp s occupants at a time when Morocco had submitted a request to
the United Nations for membership, and to the U.S. government for
financial aid. The most moderate and humane position was presented by
the minister of habous (religious endowments). He could not understand
why the Moroccan government and security services had to interfere and
obstruct people from leaving for a country that meant so much to them
from the religious point of view. Benzaquen responded by supporting
the argument.62
In spite of his meetings with the W JC officials and the promises he
made about the camp s evacuation, Laghzaoui emerged during the cabi
net meetings as the toughest opponent of letting the Jews go. At one
meeting he warned the cabinet that the implementation of the camp’s
evacuation would have to be achieved “over his dead body.” Unmoved
by Laghzaoui’s emotions, the cabinet agreed in principle on 28 July to
approve the evacuation in small groups of two hundred to three hundred
people at a tim e.63
Reacting to the decision, Ben-Menachem cabled Shragai from Paris:
“The government’s decision to permit the departure of the camp’s occu
pants is a victory of good over evil. Still, we must be prepared for war
with the evil Haman [Laghzaoui] who, surely, will place many obstacles
in the way of executing the decision.”64 Duvdevani was blunter. On 29
July he observed: “It is possible that the Moroccan government’s position
is different from Laghzaoui’s, but it is obvious that he carries out his plan
without fear and without taking into account the government’s wishes.
He appears to be quite powerful.”65 Then, on 30 July the Moroccan
cabinet met again to approve the decision, this time in Muhammad V’s
presence. Laghzaoui seized the occasion to challenge and appeal the
decision, but to no avail. After Benzaquen threatened to resign from his
ministerial post and Ahmad Balafrej, the Istiqlâl’s secretary-general,
modified his stance in favor of evacuation, the decision was adopted.
Muhammad V gave the cabinet his blessing and requested that the
evacuation be accomplished efficiently and in an orderly fashion.66
Yet there were setbacks between August and September. These re
quired the intervention of prominent European statesmen to urge the
Moroccans to adhere to agreed-upon principles. One such obstacle was
raised on 9 August, when Easterman and Golan met with Laghzaoui

regarding the departure plan from the camp in accordance with a list
given to him comprising 6,300 persons.6' Laghzaoui stated that he would
allow the Jews to leave the camp provided that, in addition to the
payment of debts by emigrants, each person sign a declaration renounc
ing his Moroccan citizenship.68 This sensitive measure, implemented for
Egyptian Jews as a result of the Arab-lsraeli wars of 1956 and 1967,69 was
finally not applied in Morocco. Actually, the emigrants were not even
required to surrender their passports. But it caused unfortunate delays
in the departure. As for debts, Easterman and Golan provided guaran
tees that for those people leaving without paying them, the W JC would
reimburse the parties concerned.70 While we do not have the exact
departure schedule of the ships sailing from Casablanca or the flight
schedules, Laghzaoui permitted the Jews in question to leave by the end
of September or mid-October, following the removal of additional obsta
cles. Cadima s emissaries then fled Morocco. Several Israeli emissaries
argued that the M isgeret was the force that organized the emigration of
the Jews in the camp, without waiting for final official approval of the
authorities in the upper echelons. This issue awaits further research.
The W JC and the government of Israel raised hopes of negotiating a
future agreement with the Moroccans over the additional 60,000 people
ready to leave.71 But it was now up to the M isgeret to replace Cadima in
organizing the process.
Chapter 6
The Self-Liquidation Process:

Political Developments among
Moroccan Jewry and the
Emigration Factor
Early Phases o f Independence, March 1956-

October 1958
The inauguration of the new era of Moroccan independence was in the

midst of political uncertainties. Still, for all that, and highlighting the
instability and fluidity of the times, when Muhammad V returned to
Morocco, the Istiqlàl and the Parti Démocratique d'indépendance (PDI)
invited the Jews to demonstrate together with them. There was an
exchange of receptions and speeches, and the Jews were addressed as
Moroccan brothers and called upon to build the new Morocco together
with the Muslims. In several cities, Jewish leaders were invited by the
Istiqlàl or the PDI to officially join their ranks.1
Politically, the situation of the Jews improved in the years 1956-58.
Jews were granted Moroccan citizenship, and the fears of harassment and
pogroms, prevalent in 1954-55, failed to materialize. Yet the Jews re
mained suspicious for the most part, and divided. Numerous Jews ac
cused their leaders of being interested in only one thing: being members
of the future independent government of Morocco. The Conseil des
Communautés Israélites du Maroc (CCIM )— the umbrella organization
for the diverse Jewish communities scattered throughout the country—
and its secretary-general, Jacques Dahan, appealed to the Jews to dem
186
The Self-Liquidation Process 187
onstrate complete solidarity with the Muslims. But this appeal made no
impression on many Jews, or caused negative reactions. The latter ex
pressed fear of their future conscription into the army and said that they
did not wish to be obliged one day to fight Israel.2
Various segments of Moroccan Jewry informed the local representa
tives of Jewish organizations that for some time the Muslims would need
them, but as soon as they were able to stand on their feet, they would
dispose of the Jews. Others did not believe they would be granted equal
rights in an independent Morocco. They were inclined to believe in the
sincerity of Muhammad V and several of the political leaders, yet they
feared the hostile attitude of the mass of Muslims: once they had the
upper hand, they would destroy any kind of equality.3
One of the pressing issues in 1956-58 had to do with communal
reforms. The most active proponents of communal discussions and re
forms, as well as social and political integration into Moroccan society,
were young people who intended to neutralize the authority of the old
leadership. In fact, the modernized elite was then divided into three
main schools of thought. The first, influenced by French and European
schooling which in some cases included higher education in France,
emphasized the central importance of European culture in general and
French culture in particular. In general, the members of this group were
not attracted to Zionism, and they eventually settled in France, Canada,
Latin America, and Belgium. The second group included graduates of
the modern schools who, despite the education they received at the AIU,
were influenced by modern secular and religious Zionism. Although
some of its members were physically and culturally remote from the
mellâh, most of them contributed to the emergence of a small but dy
namic Zionist movement in Morocco— alongside the traditional Zionism
of the Jewish masses. Ironically, some of the notable activists within this
elite group never settled in Israel. The third trend, which favored a
Judeo-Muslim entente, emerged during the early and mid-1950s.
The pro -entente Jewish group was by no means homogeneous. It
included radicals with strong leftist tendencies as well as moderate leftists
and conservatives. David Berdugo, for instance, advocated Judeo-Mus
lim integration, with Jews frequenting the same clubs as Muslims and
attending the same schools, in order to bridge the political and intellec
tual gap between the two peoples. Others, though in favor of entente ,
were nevertheless more cautious ragarding a “fusion sacrée” (sacred
188 The Self-Liquidation Process
fusion). One of them was Charles Bensimhon, an AIU teacher, whose

family had produced a long line of teachers and principals trained by
EN IO (Ecole Normale Israélite Orientale, the general AIU teachers’
training school in Paris). Born in Marrakesh, educated in Morocco and
France, Bensimhon, at a speech to an AIU audience in Paris (1957),
maintained that the Moroccan Jewish elite member was caught in a
complex web of conflicting interests. First, there was Morocco, his pa
trie. Second, there was the newly established State of Israel, the cradle
of his religion. Finally there was France, the source of his culture and
emancipation. Regarding the patrie, he said:
Settled in our country for more than 2,000 years, we have witnessed great
historical transformations, as did our fathers and ancestors. The Jews, be they of
Berber origin or those who came to [Morocco] in search of refuge, all consider
this country as theirs. There are several strong bonds which attach us to this
land: the mother country, the fertile soil, our families and friends, the climate
and the familiar horizons.4
Bensimhon was convinced that the relations between Jews and Muslims
were bound to improve in the new Morocco where the lines of rap
prochement would be laid on foundations of democracy and freedom.
And he placed great confidence for the realization of this dream in
Muhammad V, saying:
More than the native soil . . . one single sentiment which we cherish in our
hearts is the deep love for Mufiammad V. The Jews of Morocco are eternally
grateful for what their monarch had done for them. Since his ascendance to the
Throne [1927], His Majesty has not for one moment ceased to reveal his paternal
sympathy for us as well as his vigilant protection. At the darkest hours of the
Jewish people when Europe was occupied by the Nazis and France issued its
racial laws at Vichy, it was he and he alone who came to our defense and bravely
resisted the anti-Jewish manifestations in Morocco. Since his return from exile,
Muhammad V had proclaimed total equality between Moroccans, promising the
Jews full liberation from humiliation.5
Concerning Israel, he affirmed:
Even if we are strongly attached to n otre p atrie, it is impossible to ignore Israel,

the cradle of our religion. Neither the Catholics of France, nor the Muslims of
Morocco, nor the Jews of England can remain indifferent in the face of the three
great spiritual centers of the world: the Vatican, Mecca, and Jerusalem.6
In other words, while the Jews had to express loyalty to their native soil,
they were nevertheless entitled to a Jewish Vatican, a spiritual center, a
philosophy that had to be inculcated in the minds of the pupils:
An intransigent patriotism and full loyalty toward Morocco does not exclude
faithfulness toward the Holy Land. If we are separated from Israel by citizenship,
Moroccan Jewry is united with world Jewry by a common religious doctrine. Yes,
we are Moroccans, but we are also Jewish. This is something our Muslim com
patriots understand full well. When we speak of integration, this word is à la
mode. . . . In the Larousse dictionary the word in téger signifies to enter into a
whole. If one defines the word as integrating the Jews into a nation, have them
participate in all aspects of national life, and respecting their spiritual values,
then we are wholeheartedly for such an integration. On the other hand, if one
defines integration as the disaggregation of our communities, the scuttling of our
cultural and social institutions, the abandonment of our identity and tradition,
then the answer is no. No one can ask us to relinquish our identity. We believe
in assimilation into the new Morocco but an assimilation with dignity and honor.7
Bensimhon, then, was representing the new thinking of the new elite.
If the Muslim nationalists expected straight answers from the Jews con
cerning loyalty and patriotism, the Jews, too, needed assurances. The
above statement contained an implicit warning: the Muslims would have
to tolerate Jewish sympathies toward Israel, and Jewish institutions must
not be tampered with as part of the price of the Judeo-Muslim entente.
Other prominent supporters of entente included Marc Sabbah, Albert
Aflalo, Armand Asoulin, Meyer cOvadia, and David Azoulay. These and
other radical proponents of integration were active in the Istiqlàl party
and, together with several Muslim colleagues, founded a pro-entente
movement within Istiqlàl known as al-Wifâq (Unity) in January 1956. Al-
Wifaqrs opponents described the society and its most prominent leader,
Marc Sabbah, as exclusivist and having been cut off from the mellâh for
years. Sabbah in fact was portrayed as a slavish acolyte of Mehdi Ben
Barka, the noted leader of Istiqlàl.
Sabbah and the vocal integrationists were extremely critical of the
CCIM , as well as of the separate community council leadership of urban
Morocco. In a major editorial in the French-language organ of Istiqlàl,
al-Istiqlàl, edited by Ben-Barka, Sabbah openly attacked the Jewish
leadership. There was a Jewish mass, he claimed, restless, bewildered,
and misinformed about its own problems because those who retained the
name and privilege of leaders were courageous only when their old
positions were at stake, and energetic only in clinging to those positions.

Not having had a sense of the future and not having foreseen the ineluc
table progress of the Moroccan people toward national independence,
and consequently, having failed to prepare their own people for the new
conditions— they had guided them, on the contrary, in a different direc
tion— they were unable to answer the questions posed by the Jewish
masses.8
And now, Sabbah elaborated, though this anxious Jewish mass should
have been told that none of its freedoms were impaired and that Jews,
like Muslims, had freedom of movement, there was no competent lead
ership to do so. Only the integrationists, in Sabbah’s opinion, were a
suitable leadership for the Jews of Morocco. He related that in 1955 and
early 1956, he and his supporters were merely a score of people deter
mined to change this state of affairs. However, in the summer of 1956
they were several hundred throughout the country and they intended to
struggle against the existing Jewish leadership, the partisans of the colo
nial past, the promoters of maintaining moral m ellàhs of separatism.9
Sabbah warned that the situation could not last. He urged the Moroc
can government to assist in reorganizing the Jewish communities en
tirely, emulating the pattern of consistoires that existed in France and
French Algeria. New community organizations had to be established,
particularly in the major centers, with the purpose of:
1. Administering communal and religious affairs in accordance with tra

ditional Jewish customs;
2. Maintaining good relations with the whole community, especially
with the Rabbinate, which should be the object of the greatest re
spect;
3. Trying every means to awaken the national consciousness of the Mo
roccan Jews so that they would participate more actively in national
life;
4. Making clear to the Jews that they are citizens of their country on the
same terms as their Muslim compatriots;
5. Bringing to the government’s knowledge all facts which might reflect
on the exercise of its functions and the accomplishment of its tasks,
and proposing appropriate solutions;
6. It should be understood that such activity must not b e carried out in
a sectarian spirit but f o r the exclusive benefit o f the M oroccan nation ,
under the aegis of the beloved Sultan Muhammad V. (My emphasis,

M .M .L .)10
Indeed, during the mid- and late 1950s, leaders sharing Sabbah s
political orientation did emerge within the community councils, although
in the course of the time they either moderated their stance (Sabbah in
fact changed some of his views as early as 1957 or 1958 in the wake of
emigration restrictions imposed by the authorities on the Jews) and
remained in positions of authority, or more moderate elements prevailed
(as with the effective emergence of David cAmar). Still, as early as 1956,
even among the integrationists and superpatriots, there was increasing
fear of certain dynamic Istiqlàl political leaders. Whereas Ben-Barka and
Abd al-Rahlm Bü cabîd were acceptable to the integrationists, the latter
were increasingly fearful of cAlàl al-FâsI, the conservative leader of the
Istiqlàl who had strong orthodox Islamic leanings. Abraham Laredo, who
succeeded Jo Hasan as Tangier’s community leader and was active in al-
W ifâq, thought that the future of the Jews in Morocco was uncertain and
intricately bound up with events in the Middle East, particularly follow
ing the October 1956 Suez/Sinai war. Laredo was essentially worried
about al-Fàsï, who had a large following and might ascend to power. Al-
Fàsï, Laredo indicated, was deeply identified with Cairo and Nasser to
whom he felt gratitude for assistance rendered to the Moroccans during
their struggle for independence. In Laredo’s opinion, if al-Fàsî became
premier, the Jews would be in danger.11
In 1958, Arnold Mandel interviewed al-Fàsî concerning the future of
Moroccan Jews. Al-Fàsî optimistically claimed that the Jews welcomed
Arabization and that the artificial separation which had developed be
tween Muslims and Jews during the Protectorate period was giving way
to a healthy symbiosis. However, whereas in the past colonialism consti
tuted an obstacle to this symbiosis, Zionism was the major problem in
independent Morocco. The Zionists, al-Fàsï contended, were recruiting
citizens of one state in favor of another. The Jews had to remain Moroc
cans and thus Zionist influences had to be suppressed. He observed:
My position regarding Zionism is not exclusively against [the Zionists] alone. In

the new Morocco all formations or any political movements that receive instruc
tions from the outside are eliminated or prohibited. Do you know that the
zaw aya [Islamic religious orders] are prohibited in Morocco? This is despite the
very important role they have played in our history. Are we, then, anti-Muslim
because we do not authorize the existence of “Muslim brotherhoods ? In this
sense we are as . . . “anti-Jewish” as we are “anti-Muslim.” 12
Al-Fàsî argued that he was not opposed to the teaching of Hebrew

language and culture, or Jewish folklore and music. The Judeo-Arab
idiom was part of the spiritual patrimony of the Moroccan nation and had
to be maintained and encouraged. Hebrew, too, had to be taught, and if
certain elements were opposed to this education, as they were to French
culture, then they were stupid and insensitive.13
But Abraham Laredo’s fears were genuine. Despite al-Fâsî’s assur
ances, the future of the Jews was uncertain at the time. Even the entente
was essentially over before the 1960s. The indifference of the Muslim
elite and the hesitation and apprehension on the part of the bulk of the
Jewish community brought the plans of al-Wifâq to nought.14
What was the basis for the fears and reservations concerning the
entente? In the first place, al-Wifâq, and similar groups, were elitist. Its
members may have used it as a forum to advance their own political
ambitions. The vision of an entente simply did not attract the Jewish
masses. Secondly, the desire of tens of thousands of Jews to emigrate
after 1954, mainly to Israel, foreclosed any chances of a Judeo-Muslim
entente on a large scale. The efforts of the authorities during the years
1956-57 to afford the Jews political security and representation and a
feeling of belonging to the new Morocco— including the appointment of
a Jewish minister of posts and telegraphs, Dr. Léon Benzaquen— were
perhaps sincere. These efforts, however, were probably too limited in
scope and certainly too late. The W JC thought that Benzaquen’s appoint
ment was made, in part, to win the support of influential American Jews
so that Morocco could get them to obtain economic aid concessions from
the Eisenhower administration.15 Further, the more promising trend of
1956-58 was not permanent, as is seen below. After the second half of
1958 there were clear indications that Morocco was rapidly moving into
the radical Arab camp of President Nasser of Egypt. Morocco joined the
Arab League and began issuing virulent anti-Israel statements. These
factors caused great alarm among the Jews, many of whom had already
decided to leave, and convinced them that an entente was impossible.
If politically there were no major obstacles for the Jews until 1958,
their main concern and fears centered around the authorities’ decision to
curtail their freedom of movement. Between 1956 and mid-1958, Jews

managed to leave individually in small numbers, some without delays,
others with great difficulty. Yet large groups or families were prevented
from leaving. Pressured by U.S. policymakers and international Jewish
organizations to relax restrictions on individual and group departures,
Muhammad Laghzaoui, still the chief of Moroccan national security,
forwarded the following instructions to city and regional governors on 28
November 1957:
Until now it was forbidden for Jews to emigrate to Palestine and return to
Morocco [afterwards] (Order #424/27/9/1956). The Moroccan government de
cided recently not to discriminate between Jews and Muslims in the issuance of
passports, whereby it is the right of every citizen to move freely at his will inside
and outside the country and to obtain passports and identification cards for this
purpose every time he asks for it. . . .
This decision does not suggest that Zionism would be allowed to resume its
activity and to enhance [political] propaganda in Jewish circles. Quite to the
contrary. It is imperative to expose the leaders of the Zionist movement in every
situation in which its activity harms the interest of the State and to bring them to
justice. . . . But it should be permitted to [all] other [Jews] to move freely inside
and outside Morocco.16
The instructions were disregarded by the regional authorities through

out 1958, and, since Morocco joined the Arab League in October that
year, the government and cabinet urged these officials to clamp down
harder on any Jewish emigration. Thus, when Jews applied for passports
they were now asked to present a certificate attesting that they were
given leave of absence from their jobs. In certain regions Jews wanting
to leave had to provide letters from the municipalities confirming they
owed no debts to Moroccan citizens. Each step was accompanied by
bureaucratic red tape. In some places Jews were told that the offices had
run out of passport questionnaires. Often they were sent to various
government agencies to obtain forms before filling out the question
naires. Such forms were not in existence and these agencies did not
handle emigration matters. This was part of an effort to confuse the
applicants for passports and discourage them from pursuing the proce
dure in the future.17 According to Dr. Gerhard Riegner, a political
director of the W JC, during his visit to Morocco in 1958 he and his
delegation “gained the impression that no considerable demand for pass
ports has been made. Most of these people are afraid to ask for passports,
or are discouraged by the local officials who are turning them away. They
are afraid to appear for a second or a third tim e / 18
What made matters worse were efforts by the emigration officials to
find inconsistencies between the story of the travel plans related to them
by the passport applicant and the information that family and relatives
might provide. The applicants usually said that their destination was
Europe or Algeria— for business purposes or other necessities. By com
ing to the applicants' homes and conducting an investigation the authori
ties hoped to prove that Israel was the final destination.19
Difficulties: December 1958-December 1961
Already in May 1958, the moderate government of Si M’Barek Bekkaï,

the first government of independent Morocco, was replaced by the Is
tiqlàl, headed by Ahmad Balafrej. Dr. Léon Benzaquen, the Jewish
cabinet member, did not participate in the new government. In Decem
ber 1958, the left wing of the Istiqlàl formed a new government, headed
by cAbd 5Allah Ibrâhîm, which remained in power until May 1960. The
Jews were particularly fearful of the Ibrâhîm government and they con
veyed these fears to the leaders of the major world Jewish organizations
active on their behalf— the W JC, the AJC, and the AJDC.
When Riegner visited Morocco late in 1958, he found the general
situation in the country rather confused. The conflict within the Istiqlàl
party between leftists and conservatives, the struggle for power between
the Istiqlàl and the monarchy, the unrest in some parts of the country,
especially the Rif mountains— created a conflict-laden situation which
did not foster an appropriate climate for concrete negotiations between
the W JC and the authorities as to the renewal of emigration. Internally,
the struggle for Jewish communal leadership calmed down. The young
Jewish Istiqlàl integrationists were now more realistic and understood
they could expect very little from the authorities. The old-style com
munal leaders who survived the post-1956 period also showed more
understanding of the new conditions and needs of the Jews in the newly
independent country.20
The W JC's Easterman, like Riegner, believed that the CCIM's lead
ership in 1958 was beginning to reveal greater sensitivity to the Jews'
needs and rights. He reported that Ahmad Hamiani, the political director
of the Ministry of the Interior, had received a Jewish delegation repre
senting the CCIM . The latter protested in the strongest terms against
the anti-Jewish discrimination in issuing passports, as a violation of the
king s and the government s repeated declarations that the Jews were
equal citizens, and as a breach of the United Nations-sponsored Univer
sal Declaration of Human Rights. The delegation requested the immedi
ate removal of the ban, stating that they were not concerned with emigra
tion to Israel as such, but with the democratic right of freedom of
emigration.21
According to Easterman, Hamiani stated that the minister of the
interior had issued a directive to all local authorities instructing them not
to grant passports to Jews traveling or intending to travel to Israel, and
to refuse readmission to Morocco to Jews who had been to Israel. Hami
ani, moreover, told the delegation that Morocco would not allow Moroc
cans to be exploited by Israel against the Middle Eastern Arab states and
implied that the Moroccan government preferred 250,000 Jews inside
Morocco to seventy million Muslims breathing down its neck over liberal
emigration policies.22
The Jewish delegation reacted to this statement, by declaring that
they would not accept this position. The CCIM, it was said, would take,
officially, strong public action in defense of the Jews' liberties. There
upon, Hamiani sought to mollify the delegation and promised to com
municate their views to the minister of the interior.23
Easterman was delighted by the vigor demonstrated by the delega
tion. In his judgment, this marked a new and highly encouraging turn of
events, not merely in reference to emigration, but also in respect of
general Jewish affairs. The W JC's major difficulty hitherto, Easterman
added, had been the reluctance and timidity of the leading Moroccan
Jews and their organizations to assist by approaching the authorities.24
However, this bold stance and the W JC ’s initiative to convince the
authorities to relax emigration restrictions bore no fruit.25 As these re
strictions were tightened, the W JC, and the Jewish Agency intensified
their contacts with the Moroccans to revive the emigration.26 But after a
long conversation in Morocco between Easterman, Bü cabïd, and Lagh
zaoui (April 1959), Easterman was totally discouraged. He had proposed
to them a plan whereby Jewish application for passports would go through
the local Jewish community councils first and the councils would then
present these to the relevant officials; under such a system, to be orga

nized discreetly, 5 0 0 -6 0 0 Jews would leave on a monthly basis.27
Bü cabld said that Morocco had to show regard to its “international
obligations” and “the other states.” Thus, the government could not
countenance collective emigration. Laghzaoui, however, hinted that he
would not object to the proposed emigration scheme, but Easterman had
doubts as to his sincerity and concluded that
the whole atmosphere has deteriorated and Morocco is more under the pressure
of the Arab League. The Arabs’ pressure on the Romanian caliya is, I imagine,
another factor against us. Bü cabïd also referred to the fact that the [new] Ibrahim
government has to face "‘other opposition,” obviously referring to the cAlal al-Fàsï
group of the Istiqlàl and others, and that the government are not likely to give
them the weapon of Jewish emigration with which to attack them.28
Did Easterman speak on behalf of Goldmann, the Jewish Agency, or

the government of Israel? Was he their intermediary over the emigration
question? There can be no doubt about his mediation role on their
behalf. Since Nahum Goldmann, in addition to his position as W JC
president, was a leading figure in the Zionist movement, and since he
was present at the sessions held jointly in Jerusalem by the Israeli
government, the M ossad, and the Jewish Agency on emigration, the
State of Israel had used the good offices of the W JC to reach the Moroc
can authorities. Easterman, Golan, and Riegner emerged as the chief
emissaries in this task, mainly because they had established links with
the Moroccan political leadership from the mid-1950s onward. On the
other hand, we need to conduct further research into the possibility that
Easterman often acted on behalf of the W JC alone.
Active to a significant extent in favor of Moroccan Jewry at the time
was the American Jewish Committbee (AJC), through its offices in France.
According to a detailed report of 1959 drawn up by the AJC delegation
headed by Zachariah Shuster, the general situation of the Jews deterio
rated drastically from the summer of 1959. Shuster and his main assis
tant, Abraham S. Karlikow, held intensive coversations on 13-15 D e
cember with leaders of different elements of the Jewish community, with
representatives of world Jewish organizations operating inside Morocco,
and with Charles W. Yost, the American ambassador in Rabat.29
The AJC report pointed to several factors which had caused a marked
depression in the spirit of the Jews. First, they feared that the recently
formed Syrian-Egyptian Union (United Arab Republic) and Morocco’s
support for Nasser s Arab unity schemes would undermine their position.
Second, the Moroccan government under cAbd >Allah Ibrâhîm an
nounced economic policies involving state direction, thus implying even
greater economic controls. Third, the hardening of government measures
restricting emigration included the establishment in 1959 of a special
section of the police to deal with this matter. There were increased
numbers of Jews arrested on mere suspicion of desiring to emigrate.
Fourth, tensions and indecision resulted from the fact that all organiza
tions, Jewish and non-Jewish, had to register their statutes, with some
groups not being accepted and others finding their statutes in doubt as
late as Decem ber 1959. The W JC sections and the United HLAS Service
offices in Morocco (which had been active in the country for some time)
were forced to close down their operations. Finally, anti-Zionist expres
sion was intensified by the political parties as well as the press. Less of a
sharp distinction was made between Zionism and local Jews than previ
ously. One governmental measure was cutting off postal relations with
Israel.30
In 1959 came another political turning point, of which Jewish com
munity leaders and the AJC were aware. During the premiership of cAbd
’Allah Ibrâhîm, a split occurred within the Istiqlàl. The leftists seceded,
led by Mehdi Ben Barka, supported by Bü cabîd and Ibrâhîm. Ben Barka
then founded the Union Nationale des Forces Populaires (UNFP). He
enlisted, temporarily at least, the support of the Union Marocaine de
Travail (UMT), the leftist labor union. There were now two major politi
cal blocs in the country: the conservative Istiqlàl led by cAlàl al-Fàsï and
the UNFP led by Ben Barka. Challenging the Istiqlàl newspapers, the
UNFP activists published al-T ah tir (Liberation). The UNFP launched
attacks against the Palace and against the Istiqlàl, backed, though not
blindly, by the UMT. At the end of 1959, the editors of al-T ahrir were
arrested on suspicion of plotting to assassinate the crown prince, Hasan
II. The paper was temporarily suspended. Early in 1963, Ben Barka,
known for lack of enthusiasm for the monarchy, left Morocco. Two years
later he was apparently assassinated in France by envoys of the mon
archy.
In these tumultuous times, the Jews had little to gain from the split in
the Istiqlàl, from the Palace-UNFP tensions, or from King Muhammad
V’s growing disenchantment with the Ibrâhîm government. Most Jews,

save active members and supporters of the UNFP or the Istiqlàl, shunned
political involvement. Not only did they find the policies of the parties,
whether leftist or conservative, distasteful, but the various political forces
did not appear particularly eager to enlist Jewish support. The AJC
report correctly explained that there were reasons for this phenomenon.
In the days of the struggle for independence, the Jews either claimed to
be neutral or evinced sympathy for the French, and this had unfavorable
consequences for the position of the Jews. In 1959, Jewish pride and the
quest for rights notwithstanding, no Jewish leader wanted to be put in
the position of having picked the “wrong” side. Furthermore, there was
little or no place on the political scene for Jews to turn, for the political
parties vied with each other in showing their loyalty to Arab unity and
Pan-Arab causes. Most significant, however, was the prevailing feeling
among different segments of the Jewish population of forced estrange
ment from vital areas of Moroccan life. This sharpened the distrust that
had already been widespread— before and after 1956— as to the poten
tial for genuine integration.31
The distrust and estrangement were exemplified by the AJC report
concerning the 1959 registration for the May 1960 elections, the first
elections since independence. Jews in Casablanca simply did not register
to vote, to the quiet despair of the official Jewish leadership. Jews in Fez
asked the governor if they would be provided with their own registration
booths inside the Jewish neighborhoods because the Jewish population
did not want to go and register at the regular booths. The CCIM then
undertook a campaign to get Jewish registration, with some success.32
The leadership’s reason for having Jews register was doubtless to provide
a good showing so that the authorities would not become more confirmed
in their existing distrust of the Jews; the hope was that, eventually, the
Jews would register in substantial numbers, with increasing attention
paid to voter registration having favorable consequences for their posi
tion.
Whereas the Jewish masses avoided taking any political stance, their
sympathies lay primarily with Muhammad V, in whom they saw a figure
of last resort who might check the serious deterioration of their position.
For at no time since 1956 had their situation worsened as much as under
the Ibrâhîm government.
Economically, the Jewish members of the middle class were hard hit
under Ibrâhîm. They, like Muslim businessmen, felt that any declaration
of assets outside Morocco (as required in order to register to vote) would
mean, in the future, loss of control of those assets to the Moroccan
government and possibly the loss of the assets themselves. Whether to
accept this possibility and register, or attempt to hide the assets and have
the sword of Damocles hanging over their heads, was their dilemma. As
the AJC report indicated, many of the Jews quietly sought arrangements
to move to France or Spain or, when possible, to other countries. Other
businessmen imagined that they would have to become employees of the
state or simply lose their businesses should the government take over
certain economic activities. Hence, they too were discouraged and wanted
to leave.33
At the lower economic levels, the policy of the government was felt
through the placement service. Jews said they were being discriminated
through the placement service, although that was difficult to prove. What
happened was that a Jewish mechanic or electrician who wanted employ
ment registered for a position. His name was placed on the placement
bureau’s lists. When a position did become available (unemployment was
a serious problem during the late 1950s), the Jew found literally hundreds
of Muslims ahead of him on the waiting lists. It was also quite logical that
there would be scores of Muslim applicants for every Jewish applicant,
given the population ratio. Hence the position of the Jew seemed bad.
Curiously, employers tended to favor Jewish employees because they
were better workers. On numerous occasions the employers notified
particular Jewish mechanics that a job was available and asked for them,
but were sent Muslims by the placement bureau instead.34
It was rumored that Muslims were favored over Jews in government
administration. Certainly the Jews believed this, and they complained
about cases of Jews having been passed over for promotion or for hiring,
even though more qualified than Muslims. On the other hand, Jews
themselves indicated how difficult it was to make a case in this regard,
for thanks to their education, they were well represented in certain
branches of the administration— such as the postal service and banking.
In several regions postal activities stopped on Yom Kippur. There were
cases where government posts were offered to Jews who turned them
down because of low salaries.35
When the AJC delegation met with the American ambassador at
Rabat, to discuss the issue of Jewish organizations such as the W JC and
the United HIAS Service no longer being allowed to function in Mo

rocco, Yost was reassuring about the future of the other organizations.
He stated that while problems existed, the position of the AIU, for
instance, was better than in other Arab countries.36 However, the AIU
leadership in Paris was hardly optimistic. Moroccan Jews, too, were
surprised that the AIU had lasted in Morocco as late as 1959, for it was
anomalous for the State to permit a foreign, French organization to play
a preponderant role in the field of primary and secondary education.
After all, this function is confined to government in almost every na
tion.37 On the surface it looked as if the Moroccan government tolerated
the AIU and even provided the network with financial subsidies. In
reality, government pressures beneath the surface mounted from 1956-
57 to alter the status of the AIU.
In December 1958, as Ibrahim was about to form his government,
Jules Braunschvig feared that Ben Barka would be appointed education
minister (cAbd al-Karim Benjelloun was the final choice), a development
that could undermine the AIU:
A logical and mentally perceptive person must quickly conclude that we repre
sent an anomaly in a nationalist state. Because [Ben Barka] is a progressive man
the religious argument [that without the AIU in Morocco Jewish education would
be neglected] will have less of an influence on him. Yet no one can predict if this
government will be stable.38
Fears turned into reality in October 1960, when the authorities na
tionalized one-third of the AIU schools. The remaining two-thirds func
tioned under the aegis of the AIU delegation in Casablanca. Referred to
from 1961 as the Ittihàd schools, the AIU in Morocco could be adminis
tered only by local Jews, even though the schools continued to be part of
the French AIU world school network.39
Though no longer a cabinet member in 1959, Dr. Léon Benzaquen
appeared to be as concerned as Braunschvig with the shaping of events.
Having returned to communal service, he observed that 95 percent of
Jewish youths were attending school at the time while scarcely 10 per
cent of Muslim youths did so. Ninety percent of Jewish youths received
medical care (through OSE-Maroc or other sources) against 10 percent of
their Muslim counterparts. Any Jewish child was able to attend the ORT
vocational schools, while Muslim youths had little educational/vocational

training available. When still a cabinet member he had heard cAbd ’Allah
Ibrâhîm (labor minister until November 1958) argue at a cabinet session
that ORT was an impressive phenomenon but that its schools should
have been wide open to Muslim youths and not exclusively, or almost
exclusively, to Jews.40
Ibrâhîm, according to Benzaquen, often stated at meetings that he
admired Jewish communal initiatives which provided social and cultural
services. Yet being in constant touch with Muslims as labor minister,
Ibrâhîm concluded that Muslims envied the Jews for having developed
such high-quality institutions while they did not have them. The Jews
had thus drawn too much attention to themselves and, consequently,
were potential victims of that excellence. Ibrâhîm himself, Benzaquen
added, resented these organizations (although, simultaneously, admiring
their work) because most of them were administered by foreign Jews.41
To avoid problems in the future Benzaquen encouraged Jewish leaders
increasingly to involve Muslims in certain Jewish communal and organi
zational institutions. Now that Morocco had been independent for three
years, there was no reason for the Jews themselves to discriminate and
that integration had to be carried out starting with these institutions.
Benzaquen insisted that he would do his utmost to integrate Muslim
physicians into O SE and that the proportion of Muslim youths treated at
O SE would be increased.42
Benzaquen was also disturbed by the fact that Jewish institutions in
Morocco were subsidized from abroad. This was a dangerous situation
and he was convinced that in the future several deputies in the Consul
tative Assembly would launch attacks against attempts by foreign minor
ities to create and maintain institutions in Morocco with outside fund-
ing.43
The first elections since independence were held on 8 May 1960, for
thirteen local chambers of commerce and industry, and on 29 May for
municipal councils. On both occasions the UNFP made impressive gains.
In the municipal elections the UNFP won 23 percent of the votes as
compared with 40 percent for the Istiqlàl and 7 percent for the Mouve
ment Populaire (a conservative movement)— a significant showing for
the UNFP which was not yet one year old.44 Among the Jews elected
was Meir Toledano of Casablanca who, as the UNFP candidate, defeated
the Jewish candidate of the Istiqlàl, Meir cOvadia, the president of the
Casablanca community.45 Yet this achievement was of little significance
for the overwhelming majority of the Jews.
Six days prior to the local elections, King Muhammad V formed a new
government which he led personally and in which Hasan, the crown
prince, was vested with real authority. Most Jews welcomed the new
government, but the Jewish community as a whole remained vulnerable
to the whims of its anti-Zionism.
In agreement with the W JC and the Jewish Agency, Easterman went
to Rabat in August 1960 to discuss with the new government the poten
tial for liberalizing Jewish emigration. In July when the Easterman visit
was being planned, Shragai requested that Easterman speak with Si
M’barek Bekkaï, then minister of the interior, and with Crown Prince
Hasan. He indicated that there was no need to go into intricate details
but that Easterman should clearly state that, since Morocco had become
independent, Jews had not been allowed to emigrate to Israel in spite of
the promises and statements which Morocco had made.46
The meeting between flasan and Easterman was held on 11 August.
Hasan was deeply serious in insisting on secrecy. This is attested by the
fact that the meeting took place late at night, outside Rabat, in the
private residence of one of his closest friends. Hasan s friendly manner
encouraged Easterman to be open with him. He spoke to him about the
W JC ’s disappointment regarding emigration, the general state of disquiet
in the Moroccan Jewish community, and the position of the W JC in
Morocco whose sections had been closed down the year before. Easter
man did not raise the question of Israel as such, nor did he feel in a
position to refer specifically to the embargo on postal relations with
Israel, though he did comment, in general terms, and as a human prob
lem, on the restrictions on communication between Moroccan Jews and
their relatives and friends in Israel: portraying them as part of the tragedy
of separated families.47
Hasan did not provide Easterman with any concrete answers, but only
the promise of future contact and discussion of these problems. Never
theless, he suggested that during his projected visit to the United States
to lead the Moroccoan delegation at the UN, it would be unwise to upset
him by any hostile Jewish demonstration or by pressure on the part of
American Jewish organizations.48
Easterman later observed that he was well aware of the unreliability
of Moroccan declarations of goodwill and good intentions. At the same

time he well understood that Hasan headed a new government which
had only just assumed authority, and was balancing on a very slender
political tightrope stretched between fiercely hostile partisans on the one
hand, and the suspicious forces of the Middle Eastern Arab states on the
other. Easterman was convinced that Hasan and his father had little love
for Nasser, and vice versa, but they did not feel as sure of themselves as
did Bourguiba of Tunisia. Easterman concluded that after the W JC had
had so many disappointments with the previous Moroccan governments
of Si Bekkaï, Balafrej, and, worst of all, Ibrâhîm, in the latter half of 1960
it had at last reached the ear of the real head of government, and
established direct relations with him. Easterman believed he had suc
ceeded in dispelling the widely spread rumor in Morocco that the WJC
actively supported Ben Barka and similar leftist groups and that, there
fore, it was taking sides in Morocco s internal political conflicts.49
Less than two weeks later, Easterman had a lengthy discussion with
Sam Benazeraf, a Moroccan Jewish financier close to the Palace. Bena-
zeraf informed him that there appeared to be a relaxation of rules regard
ing applications for passports, particularly in Casablanca. Benazeraf said
that instructions had been given to the Casablanca passport offices to the
following effect: applications were not to be rejected without giving a
reason; in dealing with passports, precise questions had to be put to the
applicant; if there were objections to granting a passport, they had to be
clearly stated; and if there were no objections on legal grounds or on
account of official instructions, passports had to be granted. Benazeraf
claimed that these instructions had been given by the Ministry of the
Interior to the governor of Casablanca, but he did not know if they were
written or oral. He added that the Ministry of the Interior had to have
acted on orders from the crown prince, and that it was most unlikely that
the Ministry would have acted on its own initiative on a matter of this
importance. “If this was accurate,” Easterman boasted, “I think we can
assume that my meeting with Mawlây Hasan is having fruitful results.”50
It seems that for reasons unknown, Easterman’s optimistic forecasts
were premature, although there was an apparent inclination on the part
of Hasan or his father to consider changes. Nevertheless, in January
1961, in response to two events, the intensification of official anti-Zion
ism, rather than liberal policies, prevailed. On 3 January, Muhammad V
organized the Casablanca Conference which was attended by represen
tatives of the United Arab Republic (including Nasser), Ghana, Mali,

Guinea, and the Algerian FLN. Although a wide variety of topics pertain
ing to the “Third World” were discussed, Israel, portrayed as an agent of
imperialism and colonialism, was the focus of some attention. The second
event took place on the night of 10-11 January when the Pisces, a sixty-
five-foot boat carrying forty-three Jews from the Gulf of Alhucemas to
Gibraltar, foundered and all but the Spanish captain and his brother-in-
law met their death. These Jews were being smuggled out of Morocco as
part of the clandestine emigration process after several such attempts had
been made in the past.
Both events focused public attention on the Moroccan Jewish com
munity, with dire results. Jews suffered police abuse, arrests, and impris
onment as well as severe beatings. Those who happened to be wearing
any combination of blue and white clothing were arrested as “secret
Zionists,” while Jews wearing black skullcaps or garments were accused
of “displaying signs of mourning” at Nasser s visit. The Egyptian presi
dent's presence in Morocco was thus a stimulus for anti-Zionist, anti-
Jewish sentiments.
Similarly, the sinking of the Pisces resulted in further outbursts of
anti-Zionism. Toward the end of January, the minister of information
Mawlây Ahmad cAlawI blamed the tragedy on the Zionist organizations
that “incited” Jews to leave Morocco. But by then the European and
American press had identified the difficult conditions of Moroccan Jewry
as the main cause of their desire to emigrate. The Israeli government,
too, seized this opportunity to place much of the responsibility on the
Moroccan government.
At the same time, various pro-Israel groups working inside Morocco
— Israelis associated with the Jewish Agency and the M ossad (the latter
represented by the late Alex Gatmon); the Zionist youth movements
working underground (Dror, ha-Bonim, Bne cAkiva, ha-No car ha-Tsi-
yoni, ha-Shomer ha-Tsa cir), and other elements— decided to take advan
tage of the Pisces affair and the unfortunate repercussions of the Nasser
visit in order to urge Jews to emigrate. On 9 February 1961, in commem
oration of the Jews who had met their death at sea, thousands upon
thousands of copies of a tract were distributed by local activists, urging
the Jews not to dispair. The text of this tract, written in French and
bordered by heavy black mourning bars, was very strongly worded:
To our Jewish brethren in Morocco. Forty-three of our brethren» driven by an

intense desire to live in the Holy Land and full of hope for the future» have
disappeared at sea. Only a few of them were buried in accordance with our rites.
The others were swallowed up by the depths of the sea; their families» the people
of Israel and we ourselves weep at their loss.
A 2,000-year hope pushes Jews to leave by every means and by all roads leading
to Zion and Jerusalem.
Any certainty of finding a place in an independent Morocco has disappeared. It

might be that the Palace is not involved in the anti-Jewish wave that has been
unleashed at this time. W e know that anti-Semitism is in contradiction to the
principles of Islam, but there exist elements who have secretly decided to pursue
us and humiliate us. Let those elements know that their end will be bitter. From
Amalek and Haman to Hitler and Eichmann the list of those whom destiny has
struck is a long one.
We are not alone. All the communities of Israel and the world weep for the dead
and struggle for our rights and our liberties. . . . Do not lose courage. Remain
strong and steadfast! The struggle for our rights and liberties continues!
The tract led to a public outcry, and arrests soon followed, mainly in
Fez, but also in Meknès, Sefrou, Tangier, and Casablanca— the major
Jewish centers. We do not know how widespread these arrests were, yet
it is certain that among those detained were people suspected of dissem
inating the tract. The reaction among Jews to the publication was mixed.
There were those who were impressed by it. However, the suspicious
ness of a community that lived in fear led some to question its authentic
ity. Many argued that it was the work of provocateurs, that it could not
have been done by Jews. Some believed it must have been the work of
the French Deuxième Bureau psychological warfare unit, for reasons of
its own. Some claimed it had been encouraged by the adherents of the
UNFP, the opposition party, which sought to provoke the Muhammad
V/Hasan government and, thus, unfavorable press reaction in the outside
world against the regime.51
Jewish community leaders were placed in a most embarrassing and
difficult position. The CCIM held a special meeting on 12 February and
issued a communiqué denouncing “the diffusion of tracts of unknown
origin whose purpose is to divide and sow discord among Muslim and
Jewish populations.” Yet the CCIM also seized the occasion to denounce
Egyptian President Gamal Abdel Nasser at the Casablanca Conference, January

1961 (courtesy of Michael M. Laskier, “The Jews of Morocco under King Mu
hammad V,” Skira Hodshit, 9 [30 November 1986], Hebrew).
the p ersisten ce of a press cam paign hostile to the Jewish population and
expressed “the will o f M oroccan Jew ry to continue to work for acco m
plishing the task of recon struction of the c o u n try .” 52
Distribution o f the tract also gave rise to dangers. T he day after its
distribution th ere was one rep ort that Muslims in M arrakesh had d ecided
to d escend upon the m e ll â h , out of anger at this provocation. In C asa
blanca, Jewish com m unity leaders w ere w orried enough to have five cars
touring the Muslim district for a day or two to see w h eth er the Muslims
would react violently. O ne person associated with the U N F P asserted
that Muslims had co m e to that party's headquarters to ask what action
should be taken against this Jew ish provocation, and had had to be
assuaged and calm ed. In the Istiqlàl, th ere was a feeling that action
should be taken against Jew s and, still according to this sam e source,
th ese advocates of physical action w ere calm ed down only by the top
party leaders. In the M oroccan situation, th erefore, the tract was a
dangerous weapon to u se .53
Am ong those who co rrectly attributed the tract to Zionist groups th ere
w ere also unfavorable reactions. T he basic criticism was twofold: that it
was dangerous and, even m ore, unnecessary. F o r n ever had Jewish
opinion in Morocco been so favorable to emigration, and to understand

ing of the Zionist viewpoint, even among those Jews who pressed most
actively for integration. Police brutality, the anti-Zionist press campaign,
and other factors had, in fact, provided the best pro-Zionist propaganda.
And the sinking of the Pisces had reinforced, not lowered, sentiments in
this regard.54
If the series of events in Morocco had brought depression and shock
they had, also, brought a new sense of dignity and determination to
Jewish leadership. In the weeks following the Casablanca beatings, per
sonal conflicts and quarrels among Jewish leaders, though not forgotten,
became subordinate to the need for cooperation in the face of the dangers
to the community. The arrests following the distribution of the tract,
which again served to underline Jewish insecurity, also served to reaffirm
and harden the expression of Jewish dignity, almost out of desperation,
as it were. There was reinforcement, too, of the growing sentiment that
the situation could not become worse, and the Jews had to stand up and
demand freedom of movement. Said one communal leader: “It might be
that some day, we will come to a Warsaw ghetto situation. But if we do,
let it be for real things, not for something like a tract.”55
Mounting criticism from abroad— Europe, the United States, and
Israel— following the Pisces affair, placed the Moroccan government in a
negative light, and the latter was now willing to implement policy changes.
Jewish leaders met Si M’Barek Bekka'i, the minister of the interior, who
informed them that instructions were being given to local authorities that
no obstacles should be placed in the way of Jews seeking passports. He
promised them an audience with the king.56
On 18 February 1961, King Muhammad V gave audience in his throne
room to the same Jewish delegation— composed of David cAmar (secre
tary-general of the CCIM), Dr. Léon Benzaquen, Sam Benazeraf, David
Azoulay, Jewish leaders of Fez and Meknès, and Marc Sabbah. The
audience lasted a little more than half an hour. To this audience the
delegation brought a memorandum in French, four pages long, which
consisted of the following:
1. A dignified pledge of allegiance to the king of Morocco describing the

desire of the Jewish communities to live in harmony and work for
building the country;
2. A request for unconditional and unrestricted freedom of movement,
with a description of some of the difficulties that had been met in this
regard. The delegation was careful to include the terms of the state
ment made by Bekkaï, in order to get them on record;
3. A request that action be taken to stop the forcible abduction and
conversion of Jewish girls to Islam;
4. A request that the Jewish communities and the CCIM be given a
new, fully legal status, suitable to independent Morocco.57
Muhammad V said that Bekka'i’s orders with regard to unconditional

and unrestricted emigration were his orders, and that he was responsible
for them and guaranteed them. He said that if Jews met with any
difficulties they should immediately go to him. Indeed, he reproached
them for not having come to him with their problems earlier. He said
that if somebody were to take a passport and then not come back to
Morocco after four or five months, it would mean that he did not wish to
stay in Morocco and that was the end of that. Regarding personal safety,
Muhammad V said that he had not known of the jailing and beating of
Jews, and that, had he known, he personally would have gone to the
prison to take them out. In this connection, he also asserted that what
ever might be Morocco’s external relations, it was more important that,
internally, the people of Morocco should not be divided and that it was
not Nasser who decided Moroccan internal affairs. When the king was
told that Moroccan Jews in other countries had difficulties in getting
their passports renewed, he stated that it was the business of Moroccan
consuls to help his citizens and not to create problems for them.58
On 24 February 1961, Bekkaï announced that the Jews were free to
settle in any country in the world except Israel. Morocco did not recog
nize Israel and Moroccan passports were thus not available for that
country. Moroccans who went to Israel would lose their citizenship.59 It
was, of course, quite clear that, once in Europe, the Jews would probably
choose Israel as their final destination.
During the same week that Jewish leaders met with the king and with
Bekkaï, the Coordinating Commission, the Israeli body comprising rep
resentatives of the Jewish Agency and the Israeli government, met to
discuss developments in Morocco. Isser Harel, the head of the M ossady
was present at the meeting. Golda Meir, the foreign minister, opened
the session and pointed out that discussions with Morocco had been
carried out for several years through diverse channels, via the W JC, and
with the assistance of the American ambassador in Rabat. The Israeli

government, she said, had for some time until the Pisces tragedy be
lieved that, through quiet diplomacy, solutions would ensue. But this
was no longer possible: international public opinion had to awaken to the
reality of Moroccan Jewry. O f course, there arose the issue of whether
Israel should continue clandestine caliya or halt it. Meir was strongly in
favor of taking risks and engaging in underground operations.60
Meir expressed the opinion that everything possible had to be done to
avert tragedies in the future. The Pisces was certainly a far cry from a
suitable boat but it had transported Jews clandestinely out of Morocco
twelve times before. Still, funds had to be made available for the pur
chase of better boats,61
Isser Harel was very pessimistic about the intentions of the Moroccan
government. The Ibrâhîm government, he observed, had suppressed
caliya more brutally than the Bekkaï and Balafrej governments had pre
viously. The Muhammad V/Hasan government was not as liberal as had
been expected. Not only had the king joined the pro-Nasser bandwagon,
but the restriction on Jewish rights remained intact. Muhammad V had
realized late in 1960 or early 1961 that he had made a mistake in closely
identifying with the Nasser regime, but he did not know how to go about
distancing himself from Egypt. Consequently, in 1961, Nasserism, the
Arab League, and anti-Jewish actions dominated the streets of urban
Morocco.62
Harel further noted that several Jewish Istiqlâlists and former ardent
integrationists were now disillusioned with the Moroccan government.
In the past they had been enemies of caliya and Israel, whereas in 1960-
61 they were contributing substantially to pro-Zionist activity. The syn
agogues and Jewish community centers were becoming centers for Zion
ist action, though carried out with the utmost discretion.
Even if the anti-Zionist atmosphere was evident in the high echelons
of government and the cabinet, and the policy restricting emigration
originated there, the implementation of the policy was in the hands of
officials at lower levels of government, as well as the police. The Jews,
therefore, felt most vulnerable when facing these forces. Harel described
their plight at the hands of a branch of the Moroccan police:
One of the means of persecuting the Jews is the highway police. There is a special
police force that patrols the roads. If they find Jews traveling on a bus, they force
them off and send them home. If they find a Jewish family on the road, this is a
sign that they are on their way to a departure point. There is no protection for
these Jews. . . . Our units from Casablanca move out [to the homes] at two
o'clock in the morning, enter the houses, and immediately leave. The whole
procedure— beginning with registering candidates, getting them in shape, set
ting a date, delivering a passport, transporting them suddenly, because they are
to come at the last moment— is carried out in strict conspiratorial fashion.
Afterwards, there is a problem of coordinating the means of departure. Both
problems are as one— taking people out of the cities: from Casablanca, Meknès,
or Fez, and bringing them to a certain destination point at the very moment that
a ship or fishing boat is to arrive. This is an involved and very complicated
activity. Very many have been arrested.63
Harel accorded much of the credit to local Moroccan Zionists. True,

the elite of the underground and caliya organizers were Israelis. Yet the
main burden fell on local young Zionists. They were the backbone of
activities. Harel did not underestimate the authorities’ efforts aimed at
neutralizing underground Zionist efforts:
At first we looked for the easier routes. The land route was less dangerous, not
from the Moroccan vantage point, but from the standpoint of risk to life. We
exhausted almost every possibility. We transported many thousands of Jews over
the land route with counterfeit passports. They understood our evasions, issued
additional decrees, cancelled exit permits, and placed army guard units on the
land routes. I would like you to know that once Tangier was annexed to the
Moroccan state [in October 1956] . . . there was almost no land border left that
we could cross. On the south was the desert. It was impossible to get from there
to anywhere. The Spanish enclaves were left. But they were small enclaves with
short borders. These borders were closed by the army. Everything was directed
against our activity. What was left was mainly maritime action which was divided
into two: one was taking Jews out over the Moroccan border and bringing them
over to Gibraltar, that is, crossing the Mediterranean; the second way was
smuggling them out in fishing boats and smugglers' boats from the Moroccan
coast near an enclave or on the sea.64
Harel revealed that the Spaniards at the Spanish enclaves of Ceuta and
Melilla (annexed by Spain from Morocco in the sixteenth century) were
very helpful, particularly the Catholic religious functionaries, but also
the political and administrative authorities. When asked at the session by
Moshe Sharett if this was done with the knowledge of the Spanish
government, Harel responded that this was definitely the case, even
though Spanish-Israeli relations during the Franco era were officially

strained.65
Shragai, who together with Harel was the prime initiator of this
clandestine caliy a, pointed out that a certain member of the Moroccan
cabinet received $600,000 at one time so that Jews could leave in large
numbers. Although it is not clear exactly when this transaction— referred
to at the session as D oron , or gift in Hebrew— was made, Shragai
suggested that, in accordance with this “understanding,” several thou
sand Jews departed for Israel via Casablanca and Marseilles. They left
quietly, the police were not there, and no one bothered to check their
passports.66 Interestingly, Shragai considered the Hasan-Easterman
meeting of 11 August 1960 as a positive step toward the relaxation of
measures against caliya. Not totally discouraged, he argued before the
Coordinating Commission that “meanwhile, what happened happened
and the talks have been interrupted. I don’t mean that they have been
cancelled; they have been interrupted. In any case, we are trying to go
in this path. Nowadays, it is especially with the petty officials that it is
hard to deal.’’67
If we go back to the meetings between Muhammad V and Bekkaï on
the one hand, and the Moroccan Jewish delegation on the other, as well
as the willingness on the part of the authorities to relax emigration
restrictions in February-M arch 1961, we may ask what the primary
factors were which, eventually, resulted in a change of policy? First, the
vigorous press campaign which had placed the country in a negative
light, and was followed by demarches made by many different countries.
Second, Muhammad V himself may— as Harel suggested— have desired
to check what he might have considered growing pro-Nasser influence.
It was no secret that among the policemen who beat up Jews in Casa
blanca in January 1961, there were many expressing strong pro-Nasser as
well as anti-Jewish sentiments; and that the Casablanca action seems to
have been taken without the knowledge of the central authorities. There
were reports from Morocco that pro-Nasser feeling was not just some
thing vague and general, but organized, with the pro-Nasserites having
their own cadres, in a movement cutting across party lines. Hence, the
king’s actions aimed to demonstrate, as he told the Jewish delegation on
18 February, that it was not Nasser who decided Moroccan internal
policies.
Finally, the Moroccan government desired to get rid of a problem
which, for it, was becoming secondary in comparison with the many
other difficult, fundamental problems facing it. This was definitely a
consideration following the sudden death of Muhammad V on 26 Febru
ary 1961; and the emergence of Hasan II as his successor. The latter felt
he had much to gain by the departure of the discontented elements.
Those people who did not consider themselves at home in Morocco, and
hence were a source of friction, had to leave.68 Further, with the collapse
of the Syrian-Egyptian Union in September 1961, the new king exploited
Arab disunity and Nassers decline in prestige, to let the Jews leave
without facing Arab disapprobation.
However, letting the Jews go, in line with the late Muhammad V’s
promise to the Jewish delegation, was hardly a simple matter. The
process of organizing emigration required political negotiations. An
agreement to this effect was reached in the latter half of 1961, worked
out between the Palace, Alex Gatmon (the M ossads man in Morocco),
and the United HIAS Service. Working under the cover of the United
HIAS Service, from November 1961 Israel was able to organize large-
scale and tolerated caliya via Europe. This process, mainly between 1961
and 1964, was known as ‘‘Operation Yakhin,” named for one of the two
pillars in the Tem ple.69 The nature of the negotiations and the magnitude
of this operation are analyzed in the next chapter dealing with the caliya
and self-defense underground.
The Arabic-Language Moroccan Press

and the Jews: 1961
Throughout 1961, Moroccan nationalists concentrated their efforts on

criticizing the illegal caliya, Moroccan Jewish leaders, and the renewed
emigration under the auspices of the United HIAS Service. Nowhere
was this heightened significance of the Zionist issue and its exploitation
more in evidence, or the extent of Jewish insecurity more clearly con
veyed, than in the Arabic-language Moroccan press. The journals that
carried most of the nationalist opposition were al-cAlam, the daily of the
Istiqlàl; al-T ah rir, the daily of the UNFP; al-F ajr (The Dawn), a daily
with a circulation of 2,000 to 3,000; al-K ifafi al-W afant (The National
Struggle), the organ of the Moroccan Communist party; and A kh bâr a l-
Dunyâ (World News), a weekly which reached a circulation of 30,000 to
35,000. Mustafa cAlawï, the editor of Akhbàr al-Dunyâ, had edited al-
Fajr until it closed down in the first half of 1961.
In line with the attacks on Zionism, on 30 August 1961, an editorial in
al-cAlam focused criticism on three Jewish leaders: Marc Sabbah, David
Azoulay, and David cAmar. The paper castigated them for having at
tended the twenty-fifth anniversary celebrations and meeting of the W JC
in Geneva on 2 0 -2 3 August. This meeting, stated al-cAlam, did not limit
its program merely to the study of the social conditions of Jews around
the world; but under the chairmanship of that “avowed Zionist,” Dr.
Nahum Goldmann, delegates and guests were urged to support Israel
and defend its existence against external and internal dangers. By their
very presence at the meeting, Sabbah, Azoulay, and cAmar had mani
fested support for the W JC program for Israel. And, since Morocco did
not recognize the existence of Israel and the W JC meeting was Zionist-
inspired, sanctions had to be imposed on those who turned against state
policy, which was to uphold political and moral obligations toward the
Arab world and specifically Palestine: “soil usurped by the Zionists.” The
editorial added that the Jews had placed a barrier between themselves
and all other Moroccans through Zionism, and that, furthermore, they
were guilty of making no sacrifices since 1956 for the sake of Moroccan
growth and development.70
Al-Tahrir made similar observations regarding Sabbah, Azoulay, and
cAmar in connection with the W JC meeting. It suggested that, with few
exceptions, the Jews of Morocco had not tried to integrate into the
Muslim majority. In view of the emigration to Israel, it was clear that
Zionism in Morocco was active and well financed— even though Morocco
was a prominent member of the Arab League. The Jews could not be
citizens of two countries at the same time, particularly when Morocco
considered the foreign policy of Israel to be in total contradiction to its
own. It was thus essential for the Moroccan authorities to observe closely
activities undertaken by Jewish communal leaders.71
The Moroccan Communist party organ stated that it was pointless to
debate whether Jews attended as delegates or observers. The mere fact
that they attended a pro-Zionist meeting was bad enough. The editorial
attributed the creation of Israel to the W JC, and accused the organization
of supporting the combined Israeli, British, and French attack on Egypt
in October and November 1956.72
The press campaign against the W JC and Moroccan Jewish leaders
placed Sabbah and Azoulay on the defensive. Upon their return from
Geneva, they responded to the accusations in a letter to al-cAlam, em
phasizing that they had participated in the meeting as observers only;
that David cAmar had not attended the meeting, contrary to press re
ports; and that their presence in Geneva was vital, for they had worked
hard to ensure that only accurate information about the political system,
policies, and developments within the Jewish communities of Morocco
was disseminated. Sabbah and Azoulay also wrote that during their meet
ings with delegates from twenty-six nations, they had corrected miscon
ceptions about Moroccan Jewry and supported the progressive regime of
the “beloved” King Hasan I I.73 More significantly, Sabbah and Azoulay
argued that the Jews of Morocco could not remain indifferent and abstain
from meetings organized by international Jewish organizations. No na
tion, regardless of its regime, could compel the Jews to remain closed
within its physical borders, and deprive them of spiritual and cultural
contacts with their brethren.74
Al-cAlam responded swiftly in an editorial stressing the inevitability of
Jews manifesting solidarity with their coreligionists. It was nevertheless
irksome that Sabbah and Azoulay had participated in a meeting at which
Dr. Goldmann had declared that Moroccan Jews were facing difficult
times and the violation of their human rights. Why, moreover, had the
meeting not adopted a single motion on behalf of the struggle of the
Algerian people for independence? Why had it remained silent about
North African interests in general? Indeed, apart from Sabbah and Azou
lay, Joseph Bitton and Jacques Lazarus of the Algerian Jewish community
were also present at Geneva.75 However the bitterest pill for Sabbah and
Azoulay, both formerly zealous supporters of al-W ifâq, was the following
statement:
When we review the names of those thrown into jails [during the Protectorate
era], the heroes of Morocco’s struggle for independence . . . we cannot find a
single Jewish name. Even though seven years have passed since the inception of
the Algerian Revolution . . . the World Jewish Congress did not publish a single
motion revealing sympathy [for that struggle]. On the contrary President Gold
mann declared that certain Algerian Jews sought to preserve their French citizen
ship, and this at a time when the FLN had declared that the Jews were members
of the Algerian nation.76
Commenting on the arrest of the Spanish captain of the Pisces, and on

the revelations concerning the clandestine emigration to Israel, al-F ajr
expressed indignation that the Spanish authorities at Ceuta and Melilla

allowed “Zionist agents” to use these regions as bases for smuggling Jews
out of Morocco. How could this be done, in view of the friendship
demonstrated by the Franco regime for the Arabs?77 This editorial also
protested that large-scale clandestine emigration had been organized by
agents who had entered Morocco on the pretext of encouraging com
merce and trade. Coming from countries friendly to Morocco and carry
ing their passports, these agents had not even been required to obtain
visas from Moroccan consulates.78
A l-T ahrir focused on the Pisces affair and on the tract published by
the underground Zionists on 9 February encouraging Jews, in the wake
of the affair, to emigrate and struggle for their dignity. Instead of publish
ing a direct blast, however, the paper also sought to stir up internal
dissension by reprinting a devastating communiqué, written and signed
by thirty Jewish supporters of the UNFP and the Moroccan Communist
party, attacking Zionism and clandestine emigration. These thirty Jews
represented a cross-section of intellectuals and professionals: lycée edu
cators, lawyers, engineers, physicians, and administrators. Most notable
among them were Abraham Sarfatl, an engineer and opponent of the
monarchy (for which as late as 1986 he served a long prison sentence),
and vocal critic of Israel; Roger Cohen, a distinguished official of Moroc
co's National Bank; Ralph Benarrosh, an influential lawyer; and René
Ohana and Simon Lévy, left-wing supporters of the Moroccan struggle
for independence:
Numerous leaflets [they wrote] have been distributed whose language contains
an all-out attack on Morocco. The purpose of this provocation is to increase the
restlessness caused by the activity of the clandestine Zionist organizations and
then heightened by the racist offensive recently undertaken by newspapers like
al-F ajr and the reckless actions of the police against Moroccan Jews. Therefore,
we the undersigned Jews, who are completely aware of our duty to serve the
supreme interests of Morocco . . . » hereby denounce Zionist propaganda, which
is an instrument in the hands of colonialism and separatism used against the
people of Morocco. We protest against the policies of the Zionist troublemakers,
who exploit the emotions of Moroccan Jews and their wish for a happy and secure
life, and who incite them to emigrate to Israel. We, Muslims and Jews, must
unite in our common effort to create the proper conditions for a happy life, to
ensure our democratic institutions, prosperity and security for all citizens. Inas
much as our first and foremost concern is to defend Morocco against slander, we
denounce the full-scale campaign launched by colonialists against Morocco, for
their purpose is to stir up an atmosphere of racial discrimination, to lower the

reputation of our nation, and to sow discord between Jewish and Muslim com
munities.
Our attitude is not meant to be in harmony with any one person or group, nor is
it presented as a challenge. It stems from our feeling as loyal citizens who
recognize Morocco as their only home.79
The position taken here certainly did not reflect the feelings of the
majority of the Jews, including the integrationists. In addition, it is clear
that in disassociating themselves from Zionism, Moroccan intellectuals
were also motivated by a desire to protect their own interests and privi
leged social status. They undoubtedly felt that large-scale Jewish emigra
tion would render them even more vulnerable and powerless than they
had already become.
In addition to attacking the attitudes and activities of Moroccan Jews,
the Moroccan press was hostile toward Israel and its officials. In Septem
ber 1961, for instance, al-cAlam reported that the Israeli consul to Gi
braltar had visited northern Morocco (Tétuan, Larache, Nador) to trans
mit information and instructions to the leaders of the Zionist network.80
The role of Israel in promoting clandestine operations inside Morocco
was thus an open and, in the opinion of al-cA lam t an irritating page.
Moreover, in the aftermath of the Pisces affair, Israeli Foreign Minister
Meir had publicly denounced the Moroccan government for curbing
Jewish freedoms and held it responsible for the tragedy. On 19 January
1961, Meir declared in the Knesset that “the Jews are driven into the
corner of despair, given the discriminatory atmosphere and persecution
which presently reigns in Morocco/ 81
The Moroccan press counterattacked. A l-Fajr accused Meir of making
slanderous comments and misrepresenting the facts, and it denied her
claims that Jews were exposed to constant terror, detentions, and the
nationalization of their schools. It even suggested that Moroccan Jews
lived in a healthier atmosphere in Morocco than did their counterparts
who emigrated and settled in Israel.82
During the second half of 1961, when rumors spread that the authori
ties would consider easing emigration restrictions, the UNFP s al-T ahrir
was as critical of such changes as the rest of the radical press, if not more
so. The UNFP (unlike the Istiqlàl) did not participate in the government
formed by Hasan during the summer of 1961 (just as it had not joined
the Muhammad V/Hasan government in May of 1960). It used its press
organ and the emigration question to discredit the new regime and its
supporters. In a major editorial on 16 December 1961, al-T ahrir re
proached the government for authorizing emigration to Israel, and pointed
to stories revealing a large exodus by ships and planes. In Casablanca,
Meknès, Essaouira, and El-Jadida (Mazagan), Jews were selling their
belongings and planning their exit to Israel, a development that would
inevitably reinforce the Zionist state and further weaken the position of
the Palestinian Arabs. The editorial wondered:
Has the Moroccan government modified its position with respect to Palestinian
refugees? What must one conclude when seeking the government’s attitude
toward authorizing the Jews to leave Morocco to go to a country considered as
the enemy of the Arabs and Arabism? The government’s attitude can only be
considered as treason by the popular masses. . . . One wonders whether the
Moroccan government is not being forced by pressure from a foreign state whose
interest it would be to see Morocco s doors open wide to let Zionist aims be
achieved.83
On 20 Decem ber 1961, al-T ah rir once again attacked the government.
Emigration, it declared, had become a mass exodus, and was being
approved by the authorities. How, the paper asked, were the Jews from
humble socioeconomic strata able to leave, and who was financing their
passage? Only a powerful, well-organized Zionist organization within
Morocco could have been responsible for this.84
Chapter 7
The Israeli-Directed Self-Defense

Underground and “Operation Yakhin”
From 1955 to 1964
Thus far, the discussion has focused on the behind-the-scenes political

and tactical maneuvers exercised by Israel, the Jewish Agency, and the
W JC to pressure Morocco to relax emigration restrictions. These were
high-level talks that did not pertain to the Israeli emissaries, at least not
until Alex Gatmon negotiated with the Moroccans over ‘‘Operation Yak
hin,” or to the local Jewish activists involved with illegal actions. More
over, “Operation Yakhin” of 1961-64 has been mentioned only too briefly.
This chapter focuses on these aspects.
We have already noted previously that the Israeli-directed North
African underground— the M isgeret— was an elaborate and complex or
ganization engaged in self-defense and caliya. Since 1955, the M ossad s
M isgeret branched into Paris (central command headquarters, headed by
Shlomo Havilio and later by Ephraim Ronel, and their staff of caliya, self-
defense, intelligence, and administrative officers), Marseilles, Gibraltar,
the Spanish enclaves of Ceuta and Melilla, Algeciras, and the major
urban agglomerations of Morocco, Tunisia, and Algeria. Morocco was the
Misgeret's main arena of operations, especially in the context of emigra
tion.
While in Tunisia and Algeria the M ossad emerged as the exclusive
force behind the M isgeret, dealing only in self-defense matters, in Mo
rocco, given the urgency to conduct illegal emigration, a partnership had
evolved between the M o ssa d s Harel and the Jewish Agency’s Shragai.
218
The Underground and “Operation Yakhin ’ 219
As we have seen before, the Misgeret dealt with self-defense and the
execution of caliya, whereas the Jewish Agency as well as the W JC
handled the diplomatic tasks. With time passing, Jewish Agency emigra
tion envoys entered the scene to assist the Mossad-recruited elements,
just as, in 1961, Gatmon of the Mossad assisted the Jewish Agency in the
diplomatic arena.
Structurally and hierarchically, the Misgeret in Morocco consisted of
five forces: Lav? (or Gonen), in charge of self-defense training and oper
ations within the communities; Makhela (Choir), conducting the caliya;
Ballet, or the Zionist youth movements operating clandestinely, unified
under a single command; Modi cïn, intelligence gathering; and cOref
Tsibüri— the nonoperational force. Each of the five forces was directed
by Israeli coordinators (rakazim) and deputy-coordinators, also Israelis.
Supplementing the command of coordinators the Lav? force, at least,
was subordinate to Israeli regional commanders (mefakdim or mefakdê
snïftm). The main regional branches were Tangier, Casablanca, Fez/
Meknès, Oudjda, Marrakesh, and Essaouira.1 Casablanca emerged as the
center of the Misgeret and had the largest reservoir of activists and
emissaries. The Lav? and Makhela in the various regions were divided
into secret cells and units of local activists, whereby one cell functioned
independently of the other. The cells were overwhelmingly dominated
by Moroccan Jews, usually young men and women aged eighteen and
older, many of whom were former youth movement activists. Quite
frequently, these activists were dispatched by the Misgeret from their
native cities and communities to other communities in order to plant
them in places where their identity would be less well known. Members
of one cell knew each other but, theoretically at least, did not know the
members of other cells. The Israeli coordinators and regional com
manders were determined to prevent arrests and thus the concept of the
autonomous cell (ta? memüdar in Hebrew) became an essential compo
nent of underground life. These cells were led by Moroccan Jewish
mefakdim and madrihim (assistants). Only they had links with Israeli
emissaries and they knew each other. At the very top of the hierarchy
were the heads of the Misgeret (mefakdê ha-Misgeret) who took charge
of the whole operation and were accountable only to Havilio and Ronel.2
Most of the main Israeli emissaries were high-ranking officers in the
Israel Defense Forces, Israel Military Intelligence (Aman)y Israel’s Se
curity Services (Shabak), or members of kibbutzim and moshavim.
220 The Underground and “Operation Yakhin
The Israelis usually stood behind a dark curtain when they swore in
new recruits. It is noteworthy that the Moroccan Jewish activists did not
know that the Mossad organized the underground. All they knew, ac
cording to Havilio, is that the Misgeret, and possibly the Jewish Agency,
guided them. After all, during the late 1940s and early 1950s, the Jewish
Agency’s DMO attempted to organize similar activities.3
The most promising and talented young persons recruited into the
Misgeret received initial self-defense training in Morocco, including rifle/
pistol range practice, and were then dispatched to Europe or even Israel
(into army camps) for advanced training. Unlike the previous under
ground procedures, the training and operations were now quasi-military
in character, with different ranks of commanders given to the local
activists. The formation of top cadres of Moroccan Jews in Europe was
not necessarily inferior to the training in Israel. The trainers in the latter
were usually Israeli officers sent to complete their education in European
universities upon their discharge or retirement from the Israel Defense
Forces.4
The courses and field training in Europe and Israel comprised subjects
like topography, photography, the use of wireless radios, Zionist/Israeli
history, hand-to-hand combat, and handling grenades, submachine guns,
rifles, and pistols. Field trips in Israel were organized for the trainees in
order to strengthen their admiration for the country and to instill in them
Zionist convictions. The more determined these young would-be mefak
dim were about assisting Israel, the better they would function in the
underground upon their return to Morocco.5
Looking into the operations of the Lav?, when Isser Harel visited
Morocco in 1958 he found self-defense regional branches in Casablanca,
Rabat, Tangier, Meknès, Fez, Marrakesh, Essaouira, and Agadir. Not
only were effective caches established by the activists, but these were
well stocked with weapons and explosives. The weapons were smuggled
to Morocco by the Mossad in hollow toys and other devices. Numerous
new recruits joined the Lav? by 1958. O f the 1,200 self-defense activists
throughout North Africa, 600 operated in Morocco; of these, 470 men
and women received training outside Morocco.6
Despite the well-organized work of Lav? in Morocco, the self-defense
apparatus there was not as active as in Algeria where an eight-year-old
struggle for independence against the French had claimed the lives of
many Jews. In fact, it was inactive much of the time since 1959, and
The Underground and “Operation Yakhin” 221
hence Lav? in Morocco dealt increasingly in caliya, supplementing the

role of Makhela by guarding the convoys of emigrants as these were
about to be smuggled out of the country. The only occasions when the
Moroccan Lav? was placed on alert occurred during the Suez/Sinai war
of 1956; at the time French president Charles de Gaulle called for a
referendum over the future of Algeria (1959); and when Nasser visited
Casablanca, as well as following the Pisces tragedy (January-February
1961).
According to an activist affiliated with Lav?y during the Suez war
when the Israel Defense Forces crossed the Sinai desert, the Misgeret’s
Israeli commanders thought that in solidarity with the Egyptians, Moroc
can Muslims would attack the Jews. This activist, from Casablanca, re
called: “We received instructions . . . that all the main activists in Casa
blanca had to arrive early one morning at the home of 5Ora Aflalo [a key
member]. . . . Upon our arrival we found there the madrihim of the
Zionist youth movement and those involved in dangerous missions. We
were told . . . that we might have to defend the mellâh in case of an
attack.7
But nothing occurred. Then, in 1959, when de Gaulle called for the
referendum over Algeria, the Misgeret’s intelligence apparatus learned
that Algerians stationed on Moroccan soil intended to seize the occasion
and kill Jews in the Casablanca region. The Misgeret’s commander con
tended that the Moroccan police had obtained similar information and
adopted emergency measures to protect the Jews. However, he did not
believe the authorities could be relied upon and, consequently, alerted
the Lav? to post its units on alert by patrolling the mellâh of Casablanca.
Meir Knafo was one of Lav? s main activists recruited for this purpose:
We took the weapons out of the caches: pistols, submachine guns, hand grenades.
. . . With [Menachem] Rak-cOz’s [one of M isgeret's commanders] instructions we
prepared several “Molotov” cocktails. We patrolled the m ellàh s streets using the
M isgeret's vehicles. To our great relief, nothing occurred. Had the Algerians
attempted to harass Jews we would have been able, through rapid recruitment
[of more reservists] to repulse them.8
Then, in January 1961, on the eve of the Casablanca Conference

around the time of the Pisces affair, and before the distribution of the
tract, disseminated by Lav? and the underground youth movements, the
222 The Underground and “Operation Yakhin ’
LavP was once again placed on alert— even considering the possibility of
assassinating Nasser.
Prior to Nasser s arrival in Casablanca, for security precautions, King
Muhammad V decided to provide the Egyptian leader with an elegant
villa outside the city at a remote yet well-guarded beach. The other Third
World dignitaries were to be accommodated in the city s finest hotels.
To have the villa appear presidential, the municipal authorities of Casa
blanca were instructed to renovate it. In charge of this task was Shim con
Keren (“Arsin''), a Jew, who served as the director of the municipality's
maintenance department. Curiously, Keren was affiliated with the Mis
geret. He proposed a plan whereby Nasser's bedroom or several of the
villa's flowerpots would be booby-trapped. The plan was submitted to
the M isgeret and rejected by the M ossad in Israel. It was argued that
Nasser's assassination could imperil the security of Moroccan Jewry, a
heavy price that Israel was unwilling to pay.9
Among the leading Israeli coordinators and deputy-coordinators of
L avi° in Morocco were cEzra Ayalon, Yosef Begev, Hasdai Doron (who
was also the head of the M isgeret in Tangier),10 Itzik Baer, Haggai Lev,
Yona Zabin, Richard Hadjes, and Moshe Kadosh. The LaoP activists on
the local level were given specific instructions regarding safety rules on
storing explosives in caches and the proper handling of plastic explo
sives.11
The M akhela was directed by the following Israeli coordinators over
the years: Shim con and Yehudit Hamel from Kibbutz cAin ha-Natsiv;
Yehudit Friedman-Nesiahu (Efraim Friedman's sister); Moshe Amon
(Hababo) from Kibbutz Regavlm (one of the key coordinators of M akhela
and a former self-defense envoy with the DMO in Tunisia); Zonia Goren
from Kibbutz Sha car ha-cAmaq!m; Ze5 ev Amit; Gad Shahar from Kib
butz Regavlm; and Gad Oren (“Steve”). Shahar and Oren were later
involved in “Operation Y ak h in .'12
What procedure did M akhela follow when organizing caliya? Rein
forced by the Zionist youth movements' members, the activists entered
the villages of the south and the urban m ellàhs to search for and register
would-be emigrants. This action was executed with utmost caution. Peo
ple were contacted after a thorough check on their background and that
of their neighbors. Once the registration process was accomplished and
lists had been prepared, a second group of activists arrived to inform the
people about their departure, the type of baggage they could take along,
the rendez-vous point where they would be picked up, and the type of
vehicles to look for. In most cases the emigrants were not told about the
final station from where they were expected to escape. Sometimes they
were even kept uninformed about the various stations on way to the
border.13
As Isser Harel observed during his visit to Morocco in 1958, the
activists organized the emigrants for the final departure at night. Whole
families left quietly, packed into the Misgeret's cabs and trucks. The first
stop was usually Casablanca, although Marrakesh and Meknès also served
as initial resting points. Upon arrival at these locations, the emigrants
stayed for several hours, before proceeding any further. If the plan called
for the land route, the emigrants were escorted by smugglers from
Tangier or Tétuan across the northern border into the Spanish enclave of
Ceuta. An alternative main land route included the border crossing at
Nador (also in northern Morocco) into the Spanish enclave of Melilla.
The sea routes in the north involved the crossing of the Mediterranean
from a certain point, usually from the Gulf of Rincon near Tétuan, on
small fishing or smugglers’ boats into Ceuta; transporting people from
Tangier to Gibraltar using the ferryboats service; or smuggling them
from the seashore near Nador, also on ferryboats, to Melilla.
Those who left via the land and sea routes, arriving at the enclaves,
were transported by the Misgeret's local representatives on ferryboats to
the Spanish ports of Algeciras and Malaga. From these places they were
brought on buses to the Jewish Agency’s transit camp at Gibraltar. After
a brief period in transit the emigrants were taken to Marseilles on their
way to Israel.14
As suggested, the point from which the emigrants crossed the land
borders or had taken the sea route often required the assistance of
smugglers, employed by the Misgeret. Yet the process of guiding the
emigrants (Makhela) and protecting the convoys (Lav?) were duties
confined to the Misgeret's cadres.
There were other routes used by the underground. One option was to
take the emigrants from their homes and bring them to the port of
Casablanca or that city’s airport with counterfeit Moroccan passports.
They were dressed in fashionable European attire. According to Havilio,
these emigrants were carefully selected for their ability to pass through
the port authorities, for their fluency in French, and for talent in posing
as affluent elements intending to leave for Europe on business. This
224 The Underground and "Operation Yakhin
tactic had its drawbacks, for despite the talents demonstrated, many had
been stopped, exposed as ordinary people, and arrested for carrying
falsified travel documents.15
Other options, applied in the late 1950s or early 1960s, were land
routes from Oudjda to Oran or from Oudjda to Colomb-Béchar— in
Algeria. The emigrants were to reach Algeria by train, an option that had
been carried out by the underground of 1947-49. Owing to contacts
established with the pro-Israeli French prefect of Oran, the French
consul in Oudjda was instructed to permit the Misgeret to smuggle
people into Algeria. Yehudit Friedman-Nesiahu of the Makhela recalled
that the consul provided her with French entrance visas for that country.
She would visit the consul once every ten days, carrying with her one
hundred counterfeit Moroccan passports. The consul knew she was an
Israeli and entrusted her with the official visa stamp. Friedman-Nesiahu
stamped the passports and then the consul signed the visas. He also
alerted her periodically about instructions the Moroccan authorities gave
the police on how to confront illegal emigrants. The consul's contacts
with the Moroccans and his support for the caliya proved advantageous
to the Misgeret. The cooperation between the underground and the
French was partly possible due to the special relations between France
and Israel at the time, and to the fact that Algeria was still under French
rule. Moreover, on Morocco's side of the border, at Oudjda, Friedman-
Nesiahu won over the French consul because both had mutual admira
tion for Martin Buber, whose courses at the Hebrew University she once
attended regularly.16
The Makhela also resorted to "Operation Hiloula." Jews from different
parts of the country would arrive at Nador "to celebrate'' this Moroccan
Jewish festival. Simultaneously, Misgeret-chartered buses brought Jews
from Melilla to Nador to participate in the event. Seizing upon the
confusion of the celebration, and seeing that border patrols on the Mo
roccan side were then not watchful, the activists used the buses that
transported the Melillians to cross over with the Moroccan emigrants
into Melilla, as if they were Melillians returning home. The authentic
Melillians, who willingly collaborated with the underground, were later
picked up by the same buses.17
Finally, Ifni, another small Spanish enclave along the Atlantic coast of
Morocco, was used for a few limited operations. Ifni was the least attrac
tive option to smuggle emigrants. Surrounded by sea and desert, it was
The Underground and “Operation Yakhin' 225
virtually impenetrable due to the presence of armed gangs that terrorized

passers-by.
Many of the operations proved successful. Between 1957 and mid-
1961 17,994 emigrants left Morocco, most of them under the auspices of
the underground. This was possible for two essential reasons. First, in
October 1956 the M isgeret set up a lab in France to prepare counterfeit
Moroccan and European passports, especially for persons crossing over
the land routes; heading directly to Gibraltar on the ferryboats; or seek
ing to leave for Europe via Casablanca. The lab s experts “washed” used
passport pages for additional u se18 or obtained empty passports produced
in Israel by the M ossad. Havilio remarked:
We received in France empty Moroccan passports and laissez-passer documents

from the M ossad. The passports were of high quality whereby the paper and
passport covers were identical to what was produced in Morocco. At the same
time we received from the M isgeret in Morocco completed questionnaires, pre
pared for the emigrants, as well as the latters' photos, taken by local activists.
Based on the filled questionnaires, the lab printed the passports. We needed to
know the serial/identification numbers used by the Moroccan authorities for each
region or province so that no problems would arise for the emigrants when their
travel documents were checked. In order to know which serial numbers applied,
the M ossad in Israel collected old passports from Jews who made caliya with
Cadima until 1956. Hence we knew what we were doing. Of course, the M isgeret
inside Morocco took special care to check for us if the regional serial numbers
had been changed. . . . Once the passports were prepared in France they were
smuggled into Morocco in stuffed animals or false bottoms in suitcases.19
Needless to say, as many emigrants were smuggled out without pass

ports, the dependence on the professional smugglers was critical, for the
latter would bribe border officials when it became necessary or resorted
to other tactics not requiring the presentation of passports.
Second, in addition to reliance on counterfeit passports and smug
glers, Isser Harel credited the Spanish authorities in the enclaves, Mal
aga, and Algeciras, as well as the British in Gibraltar (in control of the
area since 1704), for accommodating the emigrants. The Spaniards in
their zones of influence hardly bothered with rigorous inspection proce
dures of travel documents. Jews smuggled from Tangier or other parts of
northern Morocco arriving in Algeciras were granted entry visas owing
to Spain's cooperation with the underground and the assistance of local
Catholic priests. In Gibraltar, not only did the British turn over the
226 The Underground and “Operation Yakhin '
transit camp to the Jewish Agency, but they assisted the Misgeret’s
representatives in Gibraltar in processing the passports and preparing
the emigrants for departure to Marseilles.20
Why did the Spaniards and the British collaborate with Israel? Accord
ing to Havilio, despite their pro-Arab policies, the Spaniards were upset
with the Moroccans for having compelled them to relinquish the Spanish
Zone in Morocco and for the incessant demands by Rabat on Franco to
withdraw from the mineral-rich western Saharan desert. To some de
gree, helping the caliya was Spain s modest way of getting even with
Morocco. The British, on the other hand, collaborated with the French
and Israelis to attack Egypt in 1956. Having lost their influence in Egypt
during the 1950s and considering Nasser as their chief opponent in the
Arab world, the British were willing to support Israeli caliya initiatives.21
There can be no doubt that the Makhela and its assistants encouraged
the Jews to leave Morocco. We have seen it to be the case in February
1961, following the Pisces affair and the dissemination of the tract. Yet
even earlier, in 1959, when emigration became impossible, despite the
denial of this fact by the authorities before Western diplomats, the
Makhela distributed a tract in the synagogues. It urged the Jews not to
despair and to continue their demands for passports. Havilio disclosed
that “We wanted to expose the misinformation of the Moroccan govern
ment which told the Eisenhower administration that passports were
available for the asking, and to reveal to the world the problem of a
people denied freedom of movement. But the Moroccans would not
relent.”22
Inevitably, successes were matched by failures and setbacks. Though
unsuccessful in destroying the Zionist underground,23 the Moroccan se
curity services followed its activities with scrutiny. Not only were Mak
hela and Lavf activists detained, but numerous emigrants, too, were
caught, brought to trial, and forced to return to their communities as had
been the case in 1947-49. This situation posed serious challenges to the
underground. For not only were the emigrants compelled to travel once
again hundreds of kilometers in cramped buses, but upon their return
they found Muslims living in their apartments. They became homeless,
placed at the mercy of Jewish communal institutions and the AJDC. It
was up to the Misgeret to attempt to smuggle them out of Morocco on a
second occasion.24 The activists who were “burned” (identified) by the
The Underground and “Operation Yakhin’ 227
authorities had to be smuggled out of the country, for by retaining them,

the Misgeret risked exposure and more arrests within its ranks.
In order to prepare the activists for the eventuality of being arrested,
interrogated, and even tortured, the underground instructed members
of Makhela and LavT to demonstrate courage under duress. They were
encouraged not to carry photos of friends, address books, and telephone
numbers. Any incriminating documents had to be disposed of by swal
lowing the paper. During interrogations they had to fabricate answers.
Even if the interrogators detected certain flaws in their explanations this
did not necessarily signify that the authorities thought they concealed
the truth. Panic had to be averted and the activists had to stick to their
story.25
According to the Moroccan penal code, the authorities could detain
people for questioning for not more than seventy-two hours. If held in
custody longer, a trial would take place, in which case the defendants
had to be present in the court with their lawyers. Having memorized
their lawyers’ phone numbers, they were to call them at the time of
need. A password would be exchanged to ascertain that the lawyers,
affiliated with the underground, were still working with the Misgeret .26
Further, whilst imprisoned for an extended period of time, after being
found guilty, the activists were told'to fight for proper medical care and
time for religious duties. If denied such privileges they were to organize
hunger strikes.27
It was not uncommon for the prisoners to be accompanied by the
police to their homes where a thorough search for evidence would be
conducted, or to café houses in their neighborhoods. The police expected
the prisoners to point out other activists for them. However, the Mis
geret had warned the cadres in advance to mislead the authorities by
leading them to those cafés and other places where their friends could
not be found.28
In the late 1950s Isser Harel called for improvements in the maritime
smuggling operations. He was dissatisfied with the continued emphasis
on small smugglers’ boats that were too small to carry the large numbers
of people needed to be evacuated. He then recommended that it would
be better to operate larger boats or small ships in which forty or more
Jews could be smuggled out in a single operation.29
It was not until fall 1960, however, that the Misgeret finally supple
mented the actions of the small boats with the introduction of a mid
sized one. In September that year the Misgeret rented the Pisces from a
certain Thomas Scott in Gibraltar. This boat was renovated and improved
to include new navigational equipment and wireless radio devices. Whereas
the boat’s captain, Francesco Morrilla, and his crew were Spaniards, the
radio operator was an Israeli. The Pisces would come within several
hundred meters of the Moroccan shore near Melilla at the Gulf of Alhu-
cemas. There, the crew would lower a small boat on which the emigrants
were transferred to the Pisces. The Pisces would then leave Alhucemas,
cross the Mediterranean, and head for Gibraltar. Until the end of 1960
the Pisces brought hundreds of people to Gibraltar on twelve missions.
Meir Knafo, who in 1960-61 served as the caliya shore unit commander
(mefaked huliat ha-hôf), recounted the events leading to the thirteenth
and final journey of the Pisces. The Misgeret*s vehicles first brought the
emigrants from Casablanca to an area six kilometers from Alhucemas, a
journey of several hundred kilometers. Each vehicle left Casablanca at
fifteen-minute intervals to avert suspicions. The emigrants were about to
commence their six-kilometer march to the gulf area. The person in
charge of the operation, as always, was an Israeli who maintained radio
contact with the Pisces. In Knafo’s words:
Several of the families involved in the thirteenth journey had already made their
way to the gulf once before but were unable to depart due to bad weather
conditions: snow, blocked roads, and a stormy sea. The M isgeret also sensed that
security problems might arise and decided to postpone the operation until the
night of 9 -1 0 January. [In the past the M isgeret had cancelled or postponed
operations owing to a variety of circumstances.]
The unit that guided the emigrants reached the shore after precautions were
taken and the shore unit patrolled the area for safety purposes. Then the emi
grants with their belongings waited. Their group included infants and the elderly;
one woman was eighty years old. . . . [Suddenly] the Pisces could be spotted at
sea several hundred meters away. Using flashlights, signals were exchanged
between the Israeli in charge and the ship’s crew. The latter sent a small boat
ashore. I entered the water and met two crew members . . . who then helped
load the emigrants. Within a short time the boat reached the Pisces. The forty-
two people came aboard and received life belts, before hiding inside. The Pisces
began to sail from Alhucemas in the direction of Gibraltar. . . . I received word
later . . . that the Pisces foundered at sea due to bad weather conditions.30
In addition to the forty-two emigrants who drowned, one Spanish crew

member and Haim Sarfatl, the Israeli radio operator, met their death,
The Gulf of Alhucemas: A Strategic Departure Point for Gibraltar in the Clandes
tine cAliya Process (courtesy of Shinuel Segev, “Operation Yakhin,” Tel-Aviv,
1984).
230 The Underground and “Operation Yakhin”
The Pisces (courtesy of Shmuel Segev, “Operation Y a kh in ” Tel-Aviv, 1984).
too. M orrilla and an oth er crew m em b er survived, only to be detained by

the M oroccans for questioning. Tw enty-tw o bodies w ere washed ashore
and brought for burial in the Jew ish section of the Alhucem as ce m etery .
T he rem aining bodies w ere n ever recovered.
Haim Sarfatl, the radio op erator, was born in F e z in 1932 and edu
cated at the A IU . In 1949 he w ent to M arseilles to pursue vocational
training at one of O R T s m ost advanced technical schools. T hen , in 1951,
Sarfatl and his b ro th er m ade ca liy a and joined the Israel D efense F o rce s.
W hile in the arm y he trained as a radio op erator, and during the 1956
Suez/Sinai w ar, p articipated in the campaign against E g y p t. G iven his
M oroccan background and talents as a first-rate radio o p erator, ÇarfatT
was recru ited into the M is g e r e t’s M arseilles branch and later sent to
M orocco, w here he operated the radio equipm ent of the P isc es. The
th irteen th jou rn ey from Alhucem as to G ibraltar was to be his last, for he
was eager to retu rn to Israel, m arry, and settle dow n.31 O th er Israeli
radio operators in different capacities included C arm ela Zabin, Natan
Shem er, Shalom DanI, Shlomo Arukh, Shimshon L otan , Shlomo M enu
hin, and Ya cakov B o k er.32
Those arrested following the tragedy and the distribution o f the tract
w ere both activists and ones suspected of assisting them . Am ong the
detained activists w ere M eir Knafo and the late Rafi W aknin. Knafo was
later released and managed to flee the country. Waknin was to pay with
his life.
Born in Casablanca in 1927, Waknin emigrated to Israel before 1948.
Recruited into the Israel Defense Forces, he fought in Jerusalem during
the war of independence, only to return to Casablanca less than two
years later. At the height of Morocco s struggle for independence, Wak
nin joined the M isgeret and trained in Europe. He was regarded as one
of the most valuable m efakdim who participated in several key opera
tions. His arrest occurred in the wake of the tract’s distribution and it
appears that the police gathered ample imformation about his where
abouts and even his deteriorating state of health.
Once apprehended, Waknin was interrogated and tortured. Despite
his failing health and the intensity of the torture, he refused to cooperate
with the interrogators. Concluding that Waknin would not divulge se
crets about Zionist endeavors, the police placed him in a local hospital.
Following King Muhammad V’s death, King Hasan II approved Dr. Léon
Benzaquen’s pleas to transfer Waknin to a private hospital in Paris. It
was there, four months later, that he died. On 11 July 1961 Waknin’s
body was brought to Israel for burial in Giv cat Sha *ül, Jerusalem.
Sixteen years later the State of Israel recognized him as harüg m alkhüt:
one who died in the service of Israel and the Jewish people.33
Those suspected of assisting in the distribution of the tract included
innocent victims. For instance, Yosef Assayag, a resident of Fez, was
picked up by the police on 13 February 1961, accused of carrying incrim
inating documents. Actually, these documents were communal records
on aid to the elderly. When asked about the contents of the records,
written in Judeo-Arabic, Assayag told the truth but failed to convince the
interrogators. After being roughed up, he was placed in solitary confine
ment for several hours and then beaten up some more for over an hour.
Assayag related that later on,
at 6:00 p.m. they requested that I provide the location of meeting places where
Jews assembled for the 'aliya. . . . After I failed to provide the response they
took me to the Troisième Brigade Criminel [and] dragged me to a basement. . . .
When I had nothing to say, twelve policemen picked me up and threw me on the
floor. One of them stuffed my mouth with a sweater while another placed his foot
on my throat and pressed until my eyes were about to pop. . . . Then they
whipped me. . . . Another policeman warned that if I did not cooperate he would
The Victims in the Service of the Clan

destine Zionist Operations
Haim Çarfatî, an Israeli Emissary and

the Radio Operator of the Pisces (cour
tesy of Shmuel Segev, “Operation Yak
h in ” Tel-Aviv 1984).
Rafi Waknin, One of the Top Com

manders of the Misgeret in Casablanca
(courtesy of Shmuel Segev, “Operation
Yakhin Tel-Aviv 1984).
shoot me. To demonstrate this he pulled his revolver and aimed it to my head.
. . . I had no answers to offer and all I could do is to tell him that he may as well
shoot me. They resumed the beatings directing their fists at my chest and face.
One of them broke two of my teeth. Three hours later they transferred me . . .
to the police station and went on with the interrogations until mid-night. . . . At
3:00 a.m. the following day the investigation resumed. Among the questions
posed: “What do we do at our synagogue?” What does the rabbi say when he
addresses his audience?” I pleaded with them to let me rest. But they wouldn't
listen. . . . Then they flashed a lamp into my eyes. I felt dizzy [and fainted]. . . .
I was not released until 8:30 p.m.34
Following arrests of several activists of Lavi\ the caliya continued

nonetheless— through diverse channels, among them the use of the
smugglers’ boats. Then, in spring 1961, the Misgeret chartered a ship in
Italy: the Kokos. The ship’s home port was Cadiz, a coastal area in
southwestern Spain. More spacious than the Pisces, the Kokos weighed
five hundred tons; its crew was Italian but the captain was an Israeli, a
former naval officer.35
Though the smugglers’ boats, like the Pisces, operated along Moroc
co’s Mediterranean coast, the Kokos sailed along that country’s Atlantic
coast. Considering that in 1961 most Jews who sought to emigrate dwelt
in the Casablanca region and southward, along the Atlantic or its prox
imity, it was advantageous to shorten the land route to the sea.36 After
conducting a thorough survey, the Misgeret found two relatively safe
beach areas in the vicinity of Rabat— in Port Lyautey and the “Smug
glers Beach’’ (for contraband). Whereas the Pisces transported between
forty and forty-five passengers in a single operation, the Kokos accom
modated 100-120. The emigrants departed with counterfeit passports in
their possession.37
Regarding the Zionist youth movements in the underground, their
counterparts in Israel’s kibbutz movements dispatched emissaries to guide
them. Unlike the pre-1956 period when youths of different age categories
became active, the new circumstances made it clear that only male and
female members aged seventeen and older would be suitable for recruit
ment. As noted, the most dedicated and talented of these youths were
gradually integrated into the Lav? and Makhela.38 Furthermore, if dur
ing the pre-independence era the Israeli emissaries had direct contact
with the movements, thereafter the now illegal envoys maintained links
only with the key madrîhïm. It was assumed that the fewer the contacts,
the safer the emissaries and the movements would be.39 According to
Menachem Rechtman (“Rodi”) from Kibbutz Mishmar ha-Negev, one of
the first youth emissaries to arrive in Morocco in 1956-57, in May 1957
Dror had eighty-eight madrîhïm in four branches: Casablanca, Rabat,
Meknès, and Fez. Most activists had jobs as post office and bank clerks.
By the late 1950s many madrîhïm had emigrated to Israel or joined the
Lav?IMakhela, thus causing a leadership crisis within the movements.40
Just as self-defense and caliya were organized within the Lav? and
Makhela, respectively, the Dror, ha-Shomer ha-Tsa cir, ha-Bonim, Bne
cAkiva, and ha-No car ha-Tsiyoni, too, were brought into a single Mis -
geret force— the Ballet. One of Ballet’s most important coordinators was
Menachem Gil cad from Kibbutz Kfar-Ruppin. He later became involved
on a separate mission with “Operation Yakhin/’ During his tenure as
Ballet’s coordinator (1957-59), dozens of madrîhïm were trained in Israel
at army and youth (Gadnac) camps. They also spent several weeks in
their movements’ kibbutzim41
As the youth movement clubs no longer operated in the open, under
ground clubs were formed at private homes and rented apartments.
Meetings were organized carefully, behind the facade of card games,
educational tutoring, and Bible sessions. In reality, Zionist education and
Hebrew lessons occupied much of the time at the meetings. In 1959,
Dror had eight clubs, ha-Shomer ha-Tsa cir two, ha-Bonim two, ha-No
car ha-Tsiyoni two, and Bne-cAkiva none. Assisting Makhela were forty-
five Ballet members: thirty from Dror, six from ha-Bonim, three from
ha-Shomer ha-Tsa cir, and six from Bne cAkiva.42 In June 1961, at the
end of the illegal caliya era, the movements had a combined membership
of 850; fifty from these movements were affiliated with caliya 43
Though heaping praise on these movements, the Mossad and the
Misgeret emissaries in Morocco were far more impressed with the offi
cially non-Zionist D E JJ. Havilio had instructed Shlomo Yekhezkeli, head
of the Misgeret in the formative years, to recruit as many individual D E JJ
members as possible. The Mossad ignored the rumors circulating in
Morocco that D E JJ members were anti-Israel and pro-Wifâq integration
ists. Quite to the contrary, it was argued, they were part of mainstream
Jewish life, functioned legally, and were guided by a leadership that,
intellectually, was superior to its counterpart among the Zionist move
ments. In fact, several leading members of D E JJ joined the Misgeret.44
The Modi cm, or Misgeret’s intelligence force, was formed in 1956-
57. It was coordinated by experienced envoys, notably Moshe Taranto,
who in the past helped shape underground intelligence efforts in other
countries. The intelligence apparatus had multiple functions to perform:
bribing police officials who could offer information on government poli
cies or strategies toward the Jewish community and the caliya; obtaining
data about new and safer border routes where the convoys could pass
without encountering resistance; probing into the reliability of the back
ground information presented to the Misgeret by new would-be recruits;
and furnishing the Makhela with up-to-date weather forecasts prior to
maritime operations.45
Five to six Israelis assisted the intelligence coordinators. Havilio re

lated that several of the coordinators were subsequently appointed com
manders of the M isgeret in Morocco or regional branch commanders.
Moshe Taranto is a case in point.46
The cO r e f T stbü n , or nonoperational force, was the least known of
the five, composed of older activists. In 1957 it was coordinated by
Dr. Benyamin Reisel (“Bertrand”), a Romanian-born physician who
was also a French national. Given his fluency in French, the M ossad
found him useful. In order to avert suspicions, Reisel was provided
with a cover as a local physician. He opened a clinic in Casablanca and
soon befriended officials at the Ministry of Health. The clinic served as a
front for the cO r e f T sibüri where local Jews, including lawyers, physi
cians, merchants, and even industrialists, became the force’s volunteers.
When the M isgeret needed warehouses, ranches, or factories to conceal
weapons, wireless radio parts, and empty counterfeit passports, or
vehicles to transport emigrants, the cO r e f Tsibüri was entrusted with
these arrangements. Further, Reisel emerged as the vital intermediary
between the M isgeret and certain trustworthy Jewish community
leaders. He appeared in the public eye as a benevolent, refined,
and sophisticated European. Outside the underground no one seemed
to know that the friendly doctor was an Israeli involved in undercover
activity.47
But Reisel’s cover was exposed after a few months. In September 1957
he and his wife, together with another activist, were stopped by the
authorities one hundred kilometers outside Tangier. After conducting a
thorough search of their car, the police discovered a cache containing
146 counterfeit passports bearing the names of Jews from Casablanca,
Fez, Meknès, and Marrakesh. Reisel was escorted to prison in Tétuan
and interrogated about the caliy a.4S
Informed of his arrest, the M isgeret contacted the Israeli ambassador
in Paris who, in turn, requested the French government to assist in
Reisel’s release. He was, after all, a French national, and the Moroccans
were unfamiliar with his background or Israeli connections. Also, a law
yer from Tétuan was hired to arrange bail, at which time the under
ground had hoped to help him escape to one of the Spanish enclaves.
However, the authorities did not grant bail. Reisel was first tried on 28
November. Six months later, during a retrial, he took advantage of the
laxity of his guards and fled to the French Consulate. The consul supplied
236 The Underground and “Operation Yakhin *
Alex Gatmon in Casablanca, 1960 (courtesy of Carmit Gatmon).
Reisel with fake travel papers bearing a new identity and drove him in
the official consular car to C e u ta .49
As the top com m anders of th e M is g e r e t took ch arge o f th e operations
and, at tim es, played a prep ond eran t role in influencing even ts, they are
worthy of b rief m ention. They w ere Shlomo Yekhezkeli, Yashkeh E liav,
B enyam in R otem , and Alex Gatm on (né G uttm an). As already intim ated,
Gatm on b ecam e the m ost im portant and successful o f the four. B o m in
Poland in 1926, G atm on joined the Polish underground at age fourteen
to fight the Nazis. H e later fled to H ungary w here he was arrested by
the G erm ans. H aving b een to rtu red in prison and about to be execu ted ,
Gatmon’s life was spared in the wake of the Soviet incursion into Hun
gary. In 1944 he reached Austria where he joined the Hagana which was
then active in the Brikhah: helping Jews escape from Europe and reach
Palestine illegally. During the late 1940s, Gatmon left the Hagana and
joined Menachem Begin s IZL. In 1950 he was recruited into the Israel
air force but also became actively involved in hunting Nazi war crimi
nals.50
Discharged from the air force in the summer of 1960, Gatmon volun
teered to head the Misgeret and arrived in Casablanca at the end of that
year together with his wife, Carmit. The cover arranged for him by the
Mossad was one of a European businessman specializing in industrial
machinery. As part of Gatmon’s new identity, Carmit was to become
known as his mistress while his “real” wife lived abroad. The Gatmons
succeeded in achieving social acceptability and penetrated Morocco’s
“haute société.” They were welcome guests at events organized by the
regime, affluent Muslims, and the Jewish elite. A luxurious villa on the
outskirts of Casablanca was provided for them by the Mossad to enhance
their status.51
Gatmon headed the Misgeret at its most crucial and challenging phase:
from the time of Nasser’s visit and the Pisces affair, until 1963, when
“Operation Yakhin” was in high gear. It has been suggested that, after
the harsh events of early 1961, Gatmon initiated and carried out the
negotiations with a Moroccan government representative, leading to the
resumption of tolerated emigration. According to Shmuel Segev, having
contacted two influential Jewish notables, Sam Benazeraf and Alfred
Cohen, Gatmon prodded them to raise the caliya issue before the Moroc
can government and to tell them that a person, representing the Jewish
underground in Morocco and the Jewish Agency, would like to debate
this issue with their representatives. It was hinted that the Jewish people
in the West would indemnify Morocco for letting its Jews go and for the
damage this exodus might cause to the Moroccan economy.52
Based on Segev’s account, Benazeraf and Cohen carried, separately,
Gatmon’s message to Rabat. The Moroccan response was surprisingly
positive. After some delay, the critical series of discussions were under
way in Europe— beginning in summer 1961— between a senior Moroc
can official and Gatmon. The latter presented himself as Alexander Ben-
David and was disguised with a mustache and beard. Following six
meetings a formula was agreed upon: “the Jews would officially be
Alex and Carmit Gatmon in Tangier with a Moroccan Friend (courtesy of Carmit
Gatmon).
allowed to em igrate to the U nited States and C anada, but not to Is r a e l/'
T he process of organizing the em igration would be en tru sted to an
Am erican Jew ish organization (U nited HIAS S ervice), and not to the
Jewish Agency. Gatm on agreed that the clandestine ca liy a had to stop
although he m ade it clear that, should M orocco ren eg e on its com m it
m en t, the illegal activities would re su m e .53 M orocco was also prom ised
financial indem nities, a subject that cannot be elaborated upon at this
stag e.54
As noted, “O peration Yakhin” — a com plex plan involving the M o s s a d ,
the Jewish A gency, the U nited HIAS Service, and King Hasan I I —
began in 1961. T he U nited HIAS Service reop en ed its offices and served
as a co v er for the M isg eret's and the Jew ish Agency's personnel to process
the ca liy a . In 1 9 6 1 -6 6 , the Israeli em issaries conducting the operation
included Y osef R egev, Naftali B ar-G iora, M enachem Gil cad, Gad Sha
har, the late M oshe Yuval, Y osef Ronen, Haim Bokboza, M oshe Antébi,
Former Activists and Emissaries of the Underground in North Africa at a Gath

ering in Dimona, Israel (1980): Sitting, The Late Moshe Amon (Hababo); From
Left to Right, Standing, the Late Alex Gatmon, Meir Knafo, Jacques ’Amir, Sam
Avital (Abotbol), and Gilbert Dukkan (courtesy of the Organization of the Former
North African Underground Activists in Israel).
M oshe Shuavi, Arye U riel, H ayim Halahm i, Gad O ren, Yona Zabin,
M ichael Gal, G eorges B arbie, David Izwotzki, Shm uel Sharon, and Dan
K ariv.55 They w ere assisted by local activists.
The Moroccan Ministry of the Interior provided collective/family rather
than individual passports. In this regard, they followed the policies o f the
F re n ch P ro tecto rate during the C adim a era. This arrangem ent saved
considerable paperw ork and speeded the d epartu re process. T he first
operation began on 2 7 N ovem ber 1961 and continued until spring 1964.
It req u ired registerin g the em igrants, taking passport photos, evacuating
villages and transfering their Jew ish populations to Casablanca (togeth er
with their belongings), and organizing the transportation to E u ro p e by
planes and ships.
M enachem Gil cad, who in January 1962 retu rn ed to M orocco to help
coordinate “O peration Yakhin,” related that the head of the police and
security services, Colonel Ahmad Oufqir, signed many o f the exit p e r
mits. Though it is not certain that Oufqir received bribes from the
“Zionists” for his services, other officials did. Paquet, the maritime com
pany that in the past transported Jews from Casablanca to Marseilles,
resumed services with its five ships— L yau tey, K ou tou bia, A zrou, Azem-
m our, and Djenné. Alternatively, other ships were chartered that sailed
from Morocco to Naples. Emigrants were evacuated by chartered planes
from Morocco to France. The journey to Israel was organized through
Israel s navigation company, Zim, or El-Al, the national airline. As we
shall see, Morocco did halt the departure of Jews on several occasions.
To challenge the restrictions, the Israelis may have conducted caliya in
the north through the Straits of Gibraltar, or from Oudjda to to Algeria
using the trains.56
The emigration selection/screening policies were revived during “Op
eration Yakhin,” although our sources do not indicate conclusively that
this applied consistently for the whole period. Based on the criteria
decided upon in Israel, preference in caliya was given to small commu
nities of three-hundred or fewer families. Second preference was granted
to families from rural and inland communities who migrated to the major
centers in 1956-61, awaiting the caliya to resume. Fifty percent of the
emigrants were chosen among urbanites. The selection/screening process
was based on families rather than individuals. A family needed to have a
provider aged eighteen to forty-five. A widow whose children were under
ten years old could not be considered a breadwinner. While health and
social screening criteria in the small and remote communities where
Jews could be vulnerable to Muslim attacks were hardly rigorous, with
the sick, elderly, and disabled approved for âliya, strict policies did
apply to families in the major centers.57
The emigration of individual men and women did become an accept
able procedure, provided that these emigrants indicated they could cope
physically and emotionally in Israeli society without their families. If the
head of a family was unemployable, yet the family had unmarried sons
aged eighteen and older, capable of working and physically fit, the family
was allowed to depart. Families that wanted to leave their elderly mem
bers behind were denied caliya. Israel could no longer tolerate a situation
whereby the elderly and communal leaders would blame her represen
tatives for splitting up families.58
O f course, an operation that evacuated eighty thousand people from
Morocco in 1961-64 (see table 15 on the changes in the Jewish map of
Morocco), could not be kept secret. Arab landlords in the m ellàhs, seeing
The Underground and “Operation Yakhin * 241
Table 15. Changes in the Jewish Map of Morocco, 26 November

1961-31 June 1963
N u m ber N u m ber Em igrants
o f Jew s o fJ e w s N u m ber o f % of
Region 27.11.61 31.6.63 Em igrants E m igrants
Ksar Es Souk 4,859 1,340 3,519 72.4

Agadir 2,810 1,147 1,663 59.2
Quarzazate 4,007 2,360 1,647 41.1
Marrakesh 16,818 8,542 8,276 49.2
Rabat 11,008 6,410 4,598 41.8
Tétuan 5,674 5,202 472 8.3
Oudjda 2,655 2,069 586 22.1
Meknès 10,692 6,708 4,265 38.9
Tangier 6,246 5,402 844 13.5
Nador 72 72 — —
Fez 12,194 7,976 4,227 34.7

Casablanca 86,149 56,794 29,355 34.1
Taza 713 647 66 9.3
Alhucemas 49 49 — —
Ceuta — — 510 0.3

T otal 163,946 104,718 60,028 36.6%
Source: The Files of the Jewish Agency Office in Paris, CZA, L10.
their best and most reliable tenants suddenly departing, went running to
the authorities or their political parties to ask what was happening. So,
too, did the printer who saw three or four of his best Jewish workers
suddenly disappear from one day to the next. When a Jewish housewife,
haggling over the price of fruit, had trouble with the Muslim fruit ven
dor, she would say “Keep your oranges. I won’t need you where I am
going.” All of a sudden there was a rush for suitcases, cartons, crates.
Unable to take out more than sixty Moroccan dirhams, there was a rush
on silver bracelets and other easily transported valuables.59
The lack of discretion by certain activists and would-be emigrants, in
addition to the already mentioned political pressure from Cairo and local
nationalists, prompted the Palace to temporarily halt emigration. The
longest pause occurred on 20 June 1962. King Hasan had returned from
a visit to Cairo the day before. It was intimated that the Cairo visit and
Arab League pressures had been behind the restriction.60 However, it
soon became clear that orthodox American Jews, led by a certain Rabbi
Abramsky, bribed government officials to allow Jews to leave outside the
framework of the United HIAS Service and contrary to the secret under
standing worked out in M ay-October 1961. The police detained five
Moroccan officials for accepting the bribes and the United HIAS offices
were closed down. Once Gatmon informed Abramsky that his private
operations hurt the emigration, and subsequent to further negotiations
with the authorities, the operation resumed in the latter half of 1962.61
Whereas King Hasan tolerated emigration much of the time, and
customs and emigration officials cultivated amicable working ties with
the “representatives of H IAS,” there was mounting concern in Jerusalem
that the secret understanding might be violated. On 22 July 1963, Shra
gai raised this issue with Levi Eshkol, Ben-Gurion’s successor as pre
mier. He disclosed that the political opponents to the king, seeking to
overthrow him by using diverse tactics, also accused Hasan of delivering
to Israel the gift of young Moroccan Jews while keeping behind the sick
and elderly. Shragai wondered if Hasan could withstand the pressure
from all directions, and if the caliya had a long-range future.62 The grim
speculations did not materialize, however.
It is true that certain Jewish community leaders still opposed caliy a,
particularly of such magnitude, whereby thousands of people left each
month. But many supported the departure and agreed to assist the
process. As it turned out, David cAmar, the secretary-general of the
CCIM , did in fact cooperate very closely with the Misgeret. His support
for “Operation Yakhin” was unquestionable and he went to Israel to
discuss major issues related to it. Indeed, on 21 February 1964, a meet
ing took place in Jerusalem between cAmar and representatives of “Op
eration Yakhin.” cAmar was prepared to actively assist the caliya of tens
of thousands of Jews provided that he could know in advance if Israel was
truly capable of absorbing them. He said that rumors about ineffective
absorption and integration policies reached Morocco and made it difficult
to continue the operation.63
The Israelis whom cAmar met in Jerusalem, especially Baruch Duvde
vani, were impressed with him. Duvdevani observed that cAmar was a
courageous person, serious, and prepared to confront challenges. His
position on caliya and Israel had changed over the years. While in 1957
he headed a delegation to Paris calling on Israel's ambassador to cease
illegal Zionist activity immediately,64 he had altered this stance since
1958 when Morocco joined the Arab League and cracked down harder
on freedom of movement. Between 1959 and 1961 he befriended several
members of the M isgeret, among them Gatmon, and assisted the clandes
tine efforts.65
What were the impressions of the Israeli emissaries connected with
either the M ossad or the Jewish Agency about Morocco, its Jews, and
the political climate? What direction did the caliya take— particularly in
1965-6 7 — once “Operation Yakhin” was essentially over?
Moshe Yuval observed that the political climate in 1962 and 1963 was
more relaxed for the Jews, despite the border dispute between Morocco
and Algeria. However, this did not mean there were no dangers:
Although nowadays, annihilation is not anticipated for the Jews in Morocco, God
forbid, this country remains Muslim and basically anti-Semitic. . . . A Jew might
very easily get stabbed for any reason whatsoever. An incident that took place a
month and a half ago [beginning of July 1963] is characteristic. . . . The whole
port [of Casablanca] was saying that not only were the Jews leaving with all their
baggage, but they were also smuggling weapons. The next day the notorious [a h
T ahrir] wrote about it on the front page.66
From 1965 to 1967
Though there was a major Caliya wave in 1961-63, the numbers dropped
considerably between the latter half of 1964 and the June 1967 Arab-
Israeli war. In February 1965, during his visit to Morocco, Yehuda
Dominitz of the Jewish Agency noted that many Jews saw their future in
Morocco. Given the new realities, he recommended that the emissaries
concentrate on encouraging “quality caliya” that included high school and
university students and youth caliya who could constitute a “pull factor”
for brothers, sisters, parents, and relatives; as well as teachers who would
take their families with them.67
Dominitz then called for reducing the number of emissaries from ten
(1 February 1965) to six (effective September 1965) in accordance with
the reduced caliya.GR In September 1966 there were four emissaries
inside Morocco: Shmuel Sharon, Georges Barbie (responsible for caliya
from Casablanca, Rabat, and the south), David Izwotzki (responsible for
caliya from Fez, Meknès, and Tangier), and Dan Kariv (responsible for
special missions).69
The HIAS offices still functioned in 1965-66, although their local
personnel was considerably reduced. The only other temporary halt in
244 The Underground and “Operation Yakhin’
On Their Way to Israel: Moroccan Jews during “Operation Yakhin” (courtesy of

the Organization of the Former North African Underground Activists in Israel).
The Underground and “Operation Yakhin ' 245
emigration occurred early in February 1965, during the visit to Morocco

of cAbd al-Hakïm ’Àmir, chief of Egypt’s armed forces. Once he left the
country, the operations resumed. It appeared that even the UNFP and
its press were no longer overtly opposed to the caliy a, perhaps because it
had become small-scale. But it opposed the presence of HIAS, regarded
as a foreign organization.70 Yet the morale of the Israelis in Morocco was
at a low ebb for the following reasons. First, caliya was unpopular, not
because of governmental opposition (which did not then exist), but due
to the news spread within the Jewish communities about the severe
economic recession plaguing Israel. Second, the economic situation for
the Moroccan Jews was favorable, even though this was not the case for
their Muslim compatriots. Third, there was a certain number of yordtm ,
as well as Jewish “tourists” encouraged by the emigration organizers to
visit Israel before settling there, who had returned to Morocco discour
aged and highly critical of Israeli society. As Hayim Halahmi, one of the
main coordinators of Israeli activity in Morocco, through Paris, assessed
the post-1964 developments:
Despite the dimensions of correspondence with Israel, this cannot change any
thing. We have already been acquainted with a number of social cases that refuse
to emigrate to Israel, though we have emigration permits for them in hand. Even
parents who have been requested by their children [in Israel], refuse to emigrate.
A new, even more worrisome phenomenon, is the application by family members
to our office, offering to pay the expenses for return of parents or children. The
question may be asked whether everything possible has been done in Israel to
avoid having Jews leave the country. In the present economic situation, we will
never be able to withstand the arguments of those who leave, and even less—
the arguments of the tourists. . . . The good reputation which we had in the past
among the Jews no longer exists. It would seem that we must not appear here
with a negative image, and that it would be best for us, therefore, to shut down
and withdraw with dignity while we can still do so. . . . The present situation
reinforces the affinity of many for emigration to Canada, and this without the
hesitations that existed in the past.71
Several months later Halahmi suggested that whereas the majority of

the Jews (some 200,000) had left for Israel since 1948, there were never
theless still 60,000 Jews in Morocco who, in 1966, either considered
Europe or Canada as their destination, or even worse, preferred to
deepen their roots in Morocco: “We are witnessing Jewish resettlement.
In the big cities new businesses have been opened, fine restaurants, all
owned by Jews/ 72 This situation continued until June 1967, but changed
drastically following the 1967 war.
From 1967 to 1980
When the June 1967 war broke out, Moroccan Jews were on the verge of
panic. This situation continued for several weeks. That total panic was
averted, that there were no major disasters for the Jews, can be at
tributed to the government and the Palace who protected them.
Political forces both on the left (supported by the UNFP and the
UMT) and the conservative right (Istiqlàl) actively sought to exploit the
fact that the king protected the Jews. Externally, the Moroccan political
establishment could not afford any Jewish praise, lest it seem that they
were turning their backs on the Arab cause. The attacks on Israel were
especially strong in neighboring Algeria, whose radio and press were
quite vehemently anti-Israeli in tone, as much as Radio Cairo. Since
Moroccan-Algerian relations at the time were quite strained over a host
of political issues, and as the king was being subjected to attacks by the
Boumedienne regime of Algeria, any overt sympathy on the part of the
Palace and the government toward the Jews might have caused serious
problems for Hasan with both Algiers and Cairo.73
As we have seen in the last section and as was confirmed by other
reports during and after the 1967 war, it appeared before May 1967 that
the Jews were secure in Morocco. Not only were the days of mass
emigration to Israel over and few were attracted there, but Moroccan
Jews were also reluctant, temporarily at least, to settle in France, Can
ada, and the United States. Early in 1967 the Jewish communities were
not only numerically stable but were in fact slightly augmented as a
result of the traditionally high Moroccan Jewish birth rates. Further
more, unlike the times when restrictive measures were imposed, eco
nomically, and on emigration, the Jews during the mid-1960s enjoyed
freedom of movement while economic conditions were more promising
in Morocco than in France or Israel where the economies could not
provide ample employment or business opportunities. This combined to
make life in Morocco temporarily active, so that Jews did not wish to
uproot themselves and commence anew elsewhere.74
The 1967 war and its aftermath introduced, temporarily, a new per
spective. An increasing number of Jews seriously considered leaving
Morocco once again. Their concern was aroused by several phenomena.
There was the Istiqlàl, emphasizing quasi-religious concepts, drawing
much of its political strength from the rural Muslim population that
traditionally supported anti-Zionist campaigns. In June 1967, it seized
upon Nasser’s defeat and Israel’s territorial gains to intensify anti-Jewish
activity. It utilized classic anti-Semitic literature such as the alleged letter
by Benjamin Franklin denouncing the Jews. The Istiqlàl French-lan
guage organ, L ’O pinion, encouraged the Muslim population to publicize
blacklists of Jewish-owned businesses and in fact enjoyed partial success
in that campaign.
Then, there were the more leftist and intellectual forces who, in
addition to their anti-Zionist and anti-Western campaign, were also op
posed to the king. Represented by the UNFP and UMT, and dominant
in certain professional and white-collar circles, they organized a mass
meeting in Casablanca during the first week of the 1967 war and engaged
in precisely the same sort of crowd-inciting themes as the Istiqlàl, against
both Israel and the United States. The leadership of the UNFP and UMT
quietly sought to wrest statements from the Casablanca Jewish commu
nity leaders denouncing Israel and Zionism, and expressed displeasure
when these were not forthcoming.75
Jewish fears were also heightened as a result of statements made in
the Moroccan press, particularly by extremist conservative newspapers
such as a l - M a s a that expressed virulent hatred against them. For in
stance, following the June war, al-M asa3 claimed, in an editorial entitled
“From the People to the Authorities”:
There are no Zionists, only Jews, no more no less. . . . We do not wish the
authorities to harm the Jews. They are on the same footing with the Muslims by
the terms of the constitution. But we want the heads of the Jews if they betray
the Muslims. . . . We do not want the authorities to carry on a war of destroying
everything as did Hitler, for the Islamic religion forbids this; but in the name of
this religion we demand that they punish severely those who betray this religion
that protects them, this country that gives them abode and food, and shelters
them from all fears. . . . W e only want to say this common truth that all men in
Morocco know. The feelings of the Jews do not change. They are upholding the
little state [Israel] with money and none of them fail in this. W e defy anybody
among them to prove the contrary. The emigration from Morocco is very evident
. . . to all. We demand of the authorities that, on this occasion, they protect their
citizens from the provocation and defiance of the Jews and that they should not
guard the Jews when the latter organize receptions and festivals to express their
joy [at Israel’s victory] under the guard of the police protecting them.76
The major problem faced by the Jews of Morocco at the time was the
economic boycott. Otherwise, despite the work of the extremists and the
political parties, there were few problems in Jewish-Muslim relations.
True, Muslims often avoided Jews they knew in daily contacts, but in the
schools Jewish and Muslim youths continued to study together.77 Even
insofar as the boycott was concerned, while Jewish merchants found their
wares rejected, the boycott was only partial and in certain regions stronger
and more effective than in others.78 Jewish textile shop owners faced
extremist Muslim youths who encouraged would-be customers not to
buy from them,79 but usually, ordinary Muslims did not take the initia
tive in organizing the boycott. Quite frequently, however, Muslims boy
cotted Jewish products because of pressure imposed by the extremists.
Jewish schools were kept open and Jewish institutions functioned
normally, albeit often under police guard. The Shavûcôt holiday fell on
14 June as knowledge of the Israeli victory filtered in. The Moroccan
government now encountered a serious dilemma. In the first place, it
could not, and did not, permit any but the most innocuous publications
from the Arab world to come into the country, and, it has been rumored,
jammed outside Arab radio stations that expressed violent propaganda
against Jews in general. Secondly, although placing certain Jewish insti
tutions and residential quarters under guard, the government also sought,
for the sake of normalcy, to let Jewish life go on despite the problems.
Consequently, synagogues and Jewish clubs stayed open. Finally, while
maintaining a precarious balance between protection of Jews and allow
ing them to enjoy freedom of movement, the authorities simultaneously
had to act in a way that would not be construed by segments of the
Muslim population as if the government were friendly toward the Jews.
Therefore, the Jews were discreetly urged not to organize celebrations
that might be interpreted as rejoicing at Nassers defeat. Weddings and
circumcisions were limited or postponed. Jews were adjured not to sing
too loudly during normal Sabbath services in the synagogues.80
But, with several exceptions, Jews were free to leave Morocco. This
did not mean, however, that they did not encounter difficulties at the
hands of officials when seeking the necessary documents to emigrate.
Even though orders were issued by the government to help or at least

permit Jews to obtain the documents, the bureaucrats were frequently
resentful and in no particular hurry to respond favorably. At the time,
moreover, it was an open secret that the United HIAS Service had been
working in Morocco for several years in connection with emigration both
to Israel and to other countries, such as Canada. Without preventing
emigration of Jews, the Moroccan government suggested to the United
HIAS, in May 1967, as the prewar crisis was brewing, that it would be
prudent to shut down operations inside Morocco, temporarily at least.81
Although we know today that between 1967 and 1971 the Jewish
population in Morocco was reduced from 60,000 to 35,000, in June 1967
individual and unorganized movement from Morocco was not yet on a
very large scale, even if it was greater than at the same period in 1965
and 1966. There were numerous Jews who prepared to travel to France,
Spain, and other countries for “an early vacation.” Sometimes the head
of the family sent his wife and children abroad and stayed behind alone
to maintain his business. There were “scouts” who went abroad to probe
opportunities in various countries. In both Marseilles and Paris, Jewish
welfare organizations reported that they had three to four times as many
people as usual from Morocco approaching them, many of whom were
“scouts.” Ceuta and Melilla were filled with Jews, as were Madrid and
Malaga. Moroccan Jews did not need visas for Spain.82
Emigration to Israel in 1968 and 1969 reached approximately 5,000
per year, but dropped to 2 0 0 -2 5 0 per month in 1970. The United HIAS
was still operating inside Morocco and, according to Abe Laskove the
AJDC-Morocco director, while the closing down of its offices appeared
imminent in 1967, this was not carried out.83 Moreover, by 1968 there
was relative calm in the country. In spite of the anti-Israel campaign by
the press, radio, and television, there were few overtly anti-Jewish inci
dents. A brutal exception was a knife attack, not fatal, on two elderly
Jews in northern Morocco, while the chief rabbi of Tangier also received
nonfatal stab wounds. The boycott of Jewish businesses instituted in 1967
had dried up. Unemployment in the country remained high in 1968-69
as in previous years, and both government and private employers were
reluctant to take on Jewish staff. This attitude was largely due to justified
fears that Jewish employees were likely to leave Morocco and their jobs
before they had been trained.84
The Israeli raid on the Beirut airport (December 1968), the shooting
down by Israel of Egyptian fighter jets during the 1969 War of Attrition,
and the El-Aqsa Mosque affair (El-Aqsa Mosque was one of two mosques
sacred to Islam in Jerusalem damaged in 1969 by an explosion set off by
a deranged individual) were reported, distorted, and exaggerated in the
Moroccan press. The Arab Summit meeting on the El-Aqsa fire took
place in Rabat. Television provided propaganda coverage of Israelis tor
turing Arab men, women, and children, causing some panic among the
Jews. However, the government took precautionary measures and sta
tioned police guards in front of the large synagogues, thus preventing
incidents.85
Jewish observers make the point that, given the authorities’ alertness
on the Jews’ behalf at times of crisis, the Jews, after 1970, reconsidered
staying and postponed emigration to other lands. The leaders of the AIU
and French Jewry attempted to emphasize the importance of some Jew
ish presence in Morocco. They indicated that the Moroccan government
provided subsidies for the AIU schools and thus were encouraging the
Jews to remain in Morocco. The leaders of the AIU pointed out in 1970
that, with 40,000 Jews remaining in the country, emigration “ne se fera
pas overnight” (won’t happen “overnight”).86 René Cassin, still president
of the AIU in 1970, went as far as to suggest that the presence of Jews in
Morocco was vital for future rapprochement between Israel and Mo
rocco:
It is important to remember that Israel would be interested to receive new

populations, but it is not in her interest that the [Moroccan Jewish Diaspora]
disappears completely. For once this occurs, and when she will need to benefit
[from a Jewish presence in Morocco], in order to establish ties between Israel
and Morocco, this will become more difficult to accomplish. As long as there is a
[Jewish presence there], and though we must not forcibly keep the Jews in
Morocco, we should refrain from endangering it.87
Indeed, caliya or emigration to countries other than Israel could not

be carried out overnight. Cassin’s reasons for the need for continuation
of a Jewish community in Morocco might have provoked arguments and
disagreements, but it was unrealistic to expect that community to disap
pear abruptly following the events of the late 1960s. Besides, the high
natural birth rate of the Jewish community prevented total self-liquida
tion.
Until 10 June 1971, the country enjoyed relative tranquillity and the
Palace provided ample protection to the Jews. Massive unemployment,

corruption, abject poverty, and the deep frustration of the rising genera
tion of Muslims seemed to evoke little anxiety among the Jews so long as
the government demonstrated strength and determination to suppress
expressions of discontent.
On 10 June 1971, however, forces hostile to Hasan within the military
attempted an unsuccessful coup d etat. For the Jews, popularly identified
with the Palace, this was a difficult period. The president of the CCIM ,
David cAmar, hurriedly left the country, along with the secretary-general
of the Casablanca community and several other notables.88 It appears
that the 35,000 Jews remaining weathered many crises and maintained
their faith in the king. No one expected a sudden mass emigration but
merely a gradual self-liquidation. Interestingly, the last of the M ossad’s
emissaries involved in caliy a, with the Zionist youth movements, and
self-defense, left Morocco only in the summer of 1973, due to security
risks.
During the summer of 1972, a second attempt was made to overthrow
Hasan, but despite some anxiety there was no major panic in the Jewish
community.89 The same applied during and after the 1973 Middle East
war in which Moroccan Muslim volunteers participated. In fact, Dr.
Nahum Goldmann, who in 1973 still served as the president of both the
W JC and World Zionist Organization, intervened before the king on
behalf of the Jews in the war s immediate aftermath. On 14 November
he received a response from cAbbas al-KissT, the head of the royal cabi
net, stating among other things that
no act of violence or persecution has been carried out in the Kingdom against
Moroccan Jews. What is more, although Morocco was directly engaged in the
war [dispatching to the conflict] some of its best sons, knowing the ineluctable
risks of such a [decision], the daily relations between Moroccan Muslims and
their Jewish compatriots [at home] have not been subjected to the slightest
alteration.90
By 1974, the majority of Jews leaving Morocco were heading toward

Canada, Europe, Latin America, and the United States.91 One major
obstacle in the communal self-liquidation process had to do with com
munity ownership of large pieces of property. All this property, worth
many millions of dollars, was registered with the Ministry of the Interior.
The AIlTs Ecole Normale Hébraïque in the Oasis Suburb outside Casablanca
(author’s personal collection).
The proceeds of a sale had to be kept in cash in a bank or reinvested in

other communal property. They could not be used for any other purpose
or transferred to banking establishments abroad.92
Two developments in the mid- and late 1970s enhanced Jewish trust
in the Palace: King Hasan's support in November 1977 for Egyptian
president 5Anwar al-Sâdât's peace initiative; and his invitation in 1975-
78 of Moroccan Jews living in Israel to visit Morocco or resettle there.
Reacting to the king's invitation, only a few Moroccan Jews returned.
Upon their arrival they were given board and lodging at government
expense and were helped to find jobs; several were enrolled in a hotel
school to provide future executives in the tourist industry.93 Haim Shiran,
who left Morocco in 1959 for France and later for Israel, visited in July
1978. He entered the mellâh of his home town, Meknès, and noticed
that Jews and Muslims were now integrated into what was once a Jewish
quarter; that Jewish quarter streets continued to bear such names as
Berdugo, Toledano, Jerusalem, and Zion. Many Jews had left the mellàhs
in the 1960s and 1970s for better neighborhoods. Meknès was no excep
tion.94
Other Jews who returned to Morocco to visit or settle usually had
positive impressions of their ancient homeland. Robert Asseraf and his

family left in 1967 to settle in Paris, but in 1979 the Asserafs returned to
live in Casablanca where Robert entered into business partnership with
a Muslim and said relations were “very good at every level.” However,
Jewish sources in Morocco emphasized that a basic reason for this im
provement in the atmosphere was the decrease in the number of Jewish
inhabitants.95
Despite their secure feeling politically, in 1975-79 the Jews faced
declining economic prospects. For example, salaries had not been ad
justed to meet the rising costs of rent, clothing, meat, oil, and vegeta
bles. As a segment of the Jewish population was still salaried and not self-
employed, they, like many Muslims, faced difficulties in their buying
power and in paying the rent increases. Young couples often could not
get married because even one-room apartments in Casablanca or Fez
were too expensive.96 This situation was in sharp contrast to the more
promising economic trends of 1965-73. It is evident that in post-1956
Morocco the Jews suffered from instability, and from constant fluctua
tions in the economic and political situation. The instability was still the
case in the 1980s and early 1990s, when as many as 8,000 of them
remained. Of course, should the 1993 peace process in the Middle East
gain strength, Jewish communal self-liquidation may be halted, and re
settlement of some significance could take place. Conversely, the rise of
Islamic fundamentalism could hasten self-liquidation.
Chapter 8
Tunisia’s National Struggle and

Tunisian Jewry: Jewish Anxieties,
Muslim-Jewish Coexistence,
and Emigration
The Political Background
As in other societies in the Middle East and North Africa, the expanding
colonial presence in Tunisia alienated a growing segment of the indige
nous elite. This included graduates of the orthodox Zitouna College and
the privileged elements trained at Sadiqi College. Strong signs of dissat
isfaction were evident during the 1920s and 1930s, with the emergence
of the Destour party (1920) which sought a greater participatory role for
Tunisian Muslims in the colonial administrative apparatus as well as
increased civil liberties; the Tunisian labor movement (CGTT), estab
lished in 1924, which advocated improved social conditions for workers;
and the secularly oriented Neo-Destour party (founded in 1934) which
split away from the Destour,1 and was led by French-educated elements.
O f these Habib Bourguiba, president of Tunisia from the late 1950s until
November 1987, was the most outspoken and dynamic figure.
The Neo-Destour, which became the leading movement seeking to
wrest vital political concessions from France, adopted an ambitious plat
form encompassing social and educational reforms. It found a powerful
ally in the Union Générale des Travailleurs Tunisiens (UGTT), estab
lished in the 1940s and destined to play a preponderant role alongside
the Neo-Destour in the struggle for independence.
254
Tunisia s Struggle and Tunisian Jewry 255
Due to the popular support for the Neo-Destour along the eastern
sâhil (coast or littoral), essentially in Tunis, Sousse, and the Cap Bon
province, the movement was driven underground by the French in 1938
and its leaders arrested. During the German occupation of Tunisia the
Neo-Destour enjoyed a semilegal status; supported by Munsif Bey, it
maintained friendly relations with the Axis powers.2
Following the liberation of Tunisia by the Allies in May 1943, the
movement’s activities were once again temporarily halted. Bourguiba
spent some time in Rome and later in Egypt where he established ties
with the Arab League as well as North African political exiles, before
returning to Tunisia in September 1949.3
Meanwhile, the Neo-Destour, along with the UGTT led by Ferhat
Hached,4 was permitted gradually to reassert its authority. The move
ment demanded the return of nationalist exiles and a host of reforms, but
did not yet resort to a violent struggle. In 1950 its relations with the
Residency actually improved temporarily to the extent that the French
considered granting Tunisians a variety of representational reforms that
could have led to eventual internal autonomy, and the Quai d’Orsay
dispatched Louis Perillier to Tunis as resident-general with the task of
overseeing the reforms.
However, in August 1950, when a new coalition government, com
posed of Tunisians (including members of the Neo-Destour) and French
directors appeared to indicate that the French were conciliatory, the
Neo-Destour insisted on further concessions. They now demanded the
formation of a homogeneous all-Tunisian cabinet. In response, the French
dismissed Perillier and sent the hard-liner Jean de Hauteclocque to fill
the post of resident-general. It now seemed that a Franco-Tunisian com
promise was as remote as ever, and the inevitable outcome was the
outbreak of a protracted, violent struggle for home rule endorsed by
various factions of the Tunisian political spectrum, although they often
denied their participation.
The nationalist struggle for internal autonomy commenced in mid-
January 1952, gained momentum during the summer of that year, and
continued into 1954. It was joined by pro-nationalist forces, most notably
th e fella g h a s— guerrilla fighters active in the south (near the border with
Libya) and in the northwest. The confrontation with the French included
bombings, urban and rural sabotage, and the enlisting of political support
256 Tunisia s Struggle and Tunisian Jewry
abroad. The French colonists, in return, organized activist groups that

engaged in counterterrorism.5
The Neo-Destour was to face repressive measures adopted in 1952.
Bourguiba was first exiled to La Galete in the northern Tunisian sâhil
and then to the Ile de Croix off the coast of Brittany. Yet supporters of
the movement remained active in Tunisia, and its leaders abroad sought
to induce France to negotiate an autonomy agreement on favorable
terms. From 1952 the supporters of the Neo-Destour continuously pressed
for complete internal autonomy, excluding foreign affairs, police, and
military control, which were to be retained by the French, and the
election of a Tunisian legislature without delay. One of the major tactics
employed by the Neo-Destour was to win the support of American and
European labor unions, American public opinion— which was for the
most part hostile to French colonial designs in North Africa— , and of
the United Nations.
These efforts, undertaken in 1952-54, were resisted by the French
who, moreover, sought to play the bey, Muhammad al-Amïn, against the
Neo-Destour. Nevertheless, throughout this period the Quai d’Orsay
and the Residency did propose a series of reforms that were rejected by
Neo-Destour supporters and the fellag h as.
The replacement of de Hauteclocque by Pierre Voizard in August
1953 represented an attempt to put an end to the violence and turmoil.
Voizard lifted press censorship, released several political prisoners, and
in March 1954 announced the formation of a new government composed
of eight Tunisian ministers and four French directors under the presi
dency of Salâh M5 zall, thus granting majority representation to Tunisians
for the first time. Under pressure from its supporters, the Neo-Destour
opposed these reforms and emphasized its determination to achieve
genuine Tunisian sovereignty. The crisis did not abate and, following an
unsuccessful assassination attempt on M3 zalï, the latter was prompted to
tender his resignation.
The election of Pierre Mendès-France as premier during the summer
of 1954 signaled the decisive turning point. His resolution to appoint
Pierre Boyer de la Tour as resident-general, and his visit to Tunisia on
31 July 1954 to announce that Tunisia would be granted internal auton
omy, arrested the outbreak of a full-scale civil war. The next step, in
August 1954, was to allow the bey to form a government headed by the
politically independent and moderate Tahar Ben-Ammar, in order to

negotiate the terms for home rule.
Although Mendès-France was removed from office in February 1955,
Edgar Faure, his successor, resumed negotiations with Ben-Ammar. On
3 June 1955 the Franco-Tunisian convention was signed. It granted
internal autonomy to Tunisia and met most of the nationalists’ demands.
In May 1955 Bourguiba returned home permanently after years of inter
mittent imprisonment. Whereas his supporters accepted the new terms,
the more extremist wing of the Neo-Destour, led by Salâh Ben-Youssef,
demanded full and immediate independence. During the inner party
struggle that ensued the Bourguibists triumphed over the Youssefites,
whose leader fled to Cairo.
On 3 March 1956 the statehood of Morocco was proclaimed, and the
French could no longer refrise Tunisia a similar status. This came into
effect on 20 March 1956, when the government of Guy Mollet abrogated
the 1881 Protectorate Treaty.
The Jewish Communities during the Years

1948-1956
O f the 95,000 Jews living in Tunisia during the early 1950s (2.8 percent
of the total population), approximately 72,000 were subjects of the bey,
the rest being French or Italian subjects. During this period the Euro
pean settler community numbered some 150,000. Before and after 1947,
legal authority for Tunisian Jews in matters of personal status— marriage,
divorce, inheritance— had been expressly vested in the rabbinic courts,
composed of rabbis appointed by the state. These courts administered
justice according to mosaic law and were empowered to hand down
rulings which were enforced by the Tunisian government. Cases beyond
the jurisdiction of these courts were tried in Islamic courts if they in
volved Jewish subjects of the bey.
The bulk of the Jewish population was concentrated in Tunis (65,000),
Sfax (4,500), and Sousse (4,000). Other important Jewish centers were in
Gabès, Nabeul, Medenine, and Jerba. The rest of Tunisian Jewry was
scattered in smaller communities— towns and villages— in the southern
258 Tunisia’s Struggle and Tunisian Jewry
and northern regions. The majority were artisans, shopkeepers, large-

and small-scale merchants, and members of the liberal professions.
Naphtali Bar-Giora, a representative of the Jewish Agency’s Immigra
tion Department, who in 1950 conducted a two-month-long fact-finding
mission in Tunisia, analyzed the bulk of the labor force in the urban
Jewish communities. According to Bar-Giora, 10 to 15 percent of urban
Jewry were affluent property owners and businessmen who invested
their capital in immovable assets; 20 percent were store owners, small
businessmen, and trade intermediaries who invested their money in
savings; another 20 percent were artisans whose income derived from
the sale of their products. Most of them were unable to invest their
money in immovable assets. Among them were shoemakers, tinsmiths,
and tailors who usually owned their workshops. It was easier for the
latter to liquidate their assets and emigrate to Israel or France. Another
important and expanding segment of the urban work force was composed
of the French-educated, including physicians, lawyers, professional ad
ministrators, and teachers.6 However, Bar-Giora did not provide ade
quate data on the percentage of this category of the white-collar/educated
stratum compared with the rest of the employed Jewish population.
There is also scant evidence in his findings about the poor stratum and
its situation vis-à-vis the others.
Financial aid and social welfare assistance were provided by the com
munities following World War II, when ties were established with sev
eral organizations with whom contact had been haphazard or nonexistent
previously. Aside from the AIU, the organizations active in the Jewish
milieu included the following: the Mossad Le cAliya (from 1949 to 1952);
the Jewish Agency for Palestine, via emissaries of the various depart
ments; the AJDC (through its Paris office); the ORT; the O SE; the Zionist
Women’s International Organization (WIZO); and sections of the WJC.
One of the results of these contacts had been increased efforts to protect
human rights and improve social services.
Educationally, in addition to the many elementary rabbinic schools
dotting the urban and rural communities, especially in Jerba and Gabès
of the south— the centers of Jewish learning— Jewish life was enriched
by the proliferation of yeshivot. The yeshivot’s teaching staff, together
with numerous other rabbis in leadership positions, were often alumni of
Jerba’s centers of intellect. Despite the financial problems encountered
by the communities, the leadership of the latter occupied itself with
diverse educational undertakings, including French education and mod

ern Hebrew. In Tunis, for example, a special department of education
functioned, headed by Victor Hauzi. In 1952 this department organized
and supervised day schools for children who did not attend French
schools, or who attended French schools for half-days and learned He
brew the other half; evening courses in Hebrew for adults; schools in the
Tunis suburbs where new Jewish communities had emerged in recent
years; assistance to students in Tunis and Paris; and aid to the rabbinic
schools. For quite some time Israeli educators were present in Tunis,
among them Eliahu Bohbot, whose functions included the supervision of
modern Hebrew.7
O f a total Jewish school population of some 12,500 in Tunis (1952),
about 4,500 frequented Jewish educational centers and received Hebrew
education. After World War II Jewish students enrolled in Protectorate
schools in great numbers. The vast majority of them received no religious
education. Of the Jewish communal schools, 5Or Torah in Tunis was the
most important, with three hundred students in 1952. The AIU person
nel provided secular education in this particular school twelve hours
weekly for each class. Ten hours of Hebrew were provided, while ten
additional hours were allotted for religious education. The school had
two principals— one for French studies and another for Hebrew and
Judaica.8
Although the AIU in Tunis and the rest of the country was not as
influential as its Moroccan and Iranian networks, in 1952 it did represent
the only Jewish organization providing schooling for over 3,000 pupils.
The AIU received a token contribution from the Tunis community of
100,000 francs, but the largest subsidy was allocated by the Protectorate,
with many of the teachers being recruited from the Protectorate admin
istration. The budget for Hebrew education at the AIU was covered in
its entirety by the AJDC. There were three AIU schools in Sfax and
Sousse, none in the countryside.9
Whereas all Jewish communities took care of their poor through hillük
(the weekly financial aid), the AJDC, in addition to its efforts to subsidize
major communal social and educational enterprises, offered loans at low
interest to Jewish artisans and small businessmen from 1953. Since a
joint, countrywide fund-raising campaign was blocked by the federations’
rivalries, the O SE , ORT, and Nos Petits— the largest community-in
spired social and educational apparatus for youths— justly initiated their
own fund-raising drives. Nos Petits, which was subsidized to a large

extent by the AJDC, fed 7,000 youths daily lunches in thirty canteens
throughout Tunisia. Furthermore, about 2,500 youths aged eight to fif
teen were sent to summer camps by the local Zionist Youth Federation,
Nos Petits, and the Union Universelle de la Jeunesse Juive.10
Until mid-1952 the Jews were not seriously affected by political devel
opments arising from the nationalist struggle against the French. It is
true, as Bar-Giora noted in 1950, that in several southern villages the
Jews were coerced to attend mass rallies where nationalist spokesmen
attacked French colonialism, while the French warned the Jews not to
collaborate with the nationalists.11 Yet as late as January 1952, there had
only been small-scale pillaging of Jewish stores in Medenine and Kai-
rouan, and individual shops had been bombed. However, on 14, 15, and
16 June groups of young Muslims carried out a series of attacks on Jewish
homes and property in Tunis. We have no access to French official
archives covering these specific events, but a report prepared by G. M.
Riegner, W JC political representative for Europe, and eyewitness ac
counts shed considerable light on these developments.
According to Riegner, on 14 June Muslim youths entered the Hafsia
section of the h arat al-Y ahüd in the vicinity of the Muslim quarter. They
hurled stones at the houses but were repulsed by Jewish youths who had
self-defense training (a topic discussed below). Not discouraged, they
returned the same day with reinforcements and this time a riot broke
out. Gendarmes of the service d ’o rd re were dispatched by the authorities
to separate Muslim and Jewish adversaries, for it was feared that should
the Muslims be further roused, the situation would have disastrous
consequences.12
However, it was precisely at that stage that a tragedy occurred. The
gendarmes escorted a group of Jews from the Hafsia section to the main
h arat al-Y ahüd, but one youth, Samuel Journo, who remained behind to
rest or fasten his sandals, was attacked by a gendarme whose identity was
not reported by Riegner.13 According to eyewitness accounts, Journo was
beaten and then shot by the gendarme; he died on his way to hospital.14
This incident caused considerable consternation in the Jewish com
munity. Jewish leaders demanded that the gendarme be brought to trial,
and they requested police protection for the Tunis community, within
and beyond the h arat al-Yahüd. Interestingly, the local press, while
providing accounts of developments, omitted any reference to the Journo

killing.15
On 15 and 16 June, Muslim youths resumed their assaults on Jewish
homes. In the ensuing clashes many young Jews were wounded. Riegner
noted that the attacks on this occasion, and perhaps also those on the
preceding day, were sparked off by the refusal of Jewish merchants to
support a strike called by diverse nationalist factions, allegedly in re
sponse to a rumor that the French had attempted to poison the bey.
Jewish stores remained open, and Arab youths first sought to pressure
their owners to close them. Unsuccessful in their endeavor, they resorted
to violence.16
If, indeed, Riegner’s description and assessment of the events are
true, they reflect the basic position of the Jews vis-à-vis the French,
which differed entirely from the Muslims' attitude. The Jews simply did
not participate automatically in national protests, a situation not exclusive
to Tunisia but equally, if not more, apparent in Morocco and Algeria.
On 17 June the Vieux Destour published a communiqué condemning
the incidents and placing the blame on the French. Meir Bellity, an
influential Zionist leader and supporter of the Neo-Destour, received
visits from nationalists who also held the French responsible. Neverthe
less, the attitude of both Tunisian nationalists and French officiais wor
ried the Jewish leadership, particularly in view of the absence of both
during the Journo funeral.17
Were these incidents preplanned, organized attacks? W ere the nation
alists— the Vieux Destour, and supporters of the Neo-Destour and Zi-
touna (Islamic institute for higher learning)— behind them? After all,
they occurred at a time when full-scale, violent nationalist opposition
erupted throughout the country, and the Jews were often accused of
collaborating with the French. Or were the assaults spontaneous and
apolitical? As in the case of the June 1948 pogroms in French Morocco,
there are no ready answers. The W JC, which cultivated ties with Jewish
leaders, Tunisian nationalists, and the Residency, believed that the more
responsible supporters of the Neo-Destour were attempting to calm
tempers and dissociate themselves from those who might have organized
the attacks. The W JC position was that 80 to 85 percent of the Muslim
urban and rural population supported the Neo-Destour; the latter sought
to enlist international public opinion, including the support of influential
American Jews, and consequently could not have encouraged or orga

nized actions that would be detrimental to their cause.18 It is not clear
whether the same could be said for the Vieux Destour or the Zitounists.
We have no evidence to support the Neo-Destour’s claim that “extremist
nationalist elements” incited by the culam â5 (religious elite) and Zitoun
ists were probably responsible for the events. The pro-French cultural
inclination of a growing portion of urban Jewry was doubtless a contribut
ing factor to increased Muslim disenchantment with the Jews. This atti
tude was also, in some cases, accompanied by at least a theoretical
inclination to support Zionism by segments of the Jewish population and
by several of their leaders.
Prior to the events of 14-1 6 June, the first North African W JC confer
ence convened in Algiers on 7 -1 0 June, and Maître Charles Haddad,
president of the Jewish community of Tunis, asserted that both the
French Residency and the nationalists sought to win the support of the
Jews. This, he added, posed a dilemma, for the Jews were strongly
attached to France, the source of their cultural inspiration and political
emancipation, and yet they were obliged to emerge as mediators and
encourage a trait d ’union (coming together, literally hyphen) between
Muslims and Frenchmen in the wake of the ensuing conflict. This line
was in the best interest of Tunisian Jewry because the nationalists sus
pected them of collaboration with the French, and Muslim boycotts of
French firms sometimes also included Jewish businesses. On the other
hand, Haddad criticized the Jewish Agency for not doing enough, through
its Tunis office, to organize the emigration to Israel of Jews from the
towns and villages of southern Tunisia. He commented that most Jews
had decided to leave Tunisia, Israel being their main destination. Some
wished to leave immediately while others preferred the “wait and see”
alternative.19
During the W JC conference, André Narboni, the WJC Algerian dele
gate, posed the Tunisian delegation a delicate question regarding the
Jewish leadership’s position on continued French sovereignty over Tuni
sia. Haddad observed that the French presence was imperative but
emphasized that this view, shared by most Tunisian Jews, had to remain
confidential. Mathieu Ganem, of the Tunisian W JC delegation, was more
blunt. He feared that France’s position in North Africa had been weak
ened in recent years. French political concessions to the nationalists
would be harmful to Tunisian Jewry. The only solution was emigration,

which would be stimulated by the W JC .20
Elie Nataf, former president of the Tunis Jewish community and a
member of the W JC delegation, described the dilemma of Tunisian
Jewry in terms that could be applied to other North African Jewish
communities in the transition from French colonialism to Arab indepen
dence. He explained that the Jews, once recognized by the Muslims and
the Europeans as an élém ent d ’équ ilibre in trade and commerce, were
losing their importance. Though they were not in physical danger, Nataf
mentioned that the Jewish leadership had found it necessary to create a
vigilance committee, maintaining contacts with the communities in the
interior and the south. Moreover, he added, the Jews were coming
under increasing pressure from the Muslims and the French to take
sides. When the Jews in the smaller communities were compelled to
close their businesses as an expression of solidarity against the French,
the latter would order them to keep their stores open.21
In his closing remarks, Nataf expressed special concern about the
increase in anti-Semitic propaganda relating to Tunisia, which had been
attributed to metropolitan journals such as F ra n ce, R éelle, R ivarol, and
Aspects de la F ran ce, as well as to European colonists in Tunisia. Whereas
Muslim elements accused the Jews of collaborating with the Residency,
Frenchmen and other Europeans described them as deserters who in
creasingly backed the Neo-Destour.22
A challenge to the Jews’ neutrality, questioning their loyalty, was
presented on 12 August 1952. On that day the bey asked forty represen
tatives of various political parties and interest groups, among them Maître
Albert Bessis and Maître Charles Haddad, to submit recommendations
concerning the amended reform plan proposed by Resident-General de
Hauteclocque. The plan called for a gradual transfer to Tunisian ministers
of all portfolios aside from foreign affairs, police, military, and finance;
the holding of municipal elections and the creation of an elected national
legislature following a five-year transition; and reduction in the power of
the Residency.23 The French insisted on its immediate acceptance.24
The forty representatives elected a committee of twelve including
Bessis and Haddad. The bey, doubtless under nationalist pressure, sug
gested to the committee that the French reform plan would impede
progress toward greater Tunisian sovereignty. This suggestion placed
Haddad especially in a delicate position, since his views would suppos

edly reflect the position of the entire Jewish community.
Haddad brought the issue before the ten-member Jewish community
council of Tunis and, according to Maurice Fischer, Israel's ambassador
to France, he submitted the following response to the bey: whereas the
Jews of Tunisia pledged full support for the multiple demands of the
Tunisian people, the proposals offered by the French had to serve as a
basis for Franco-Tunisian negotiations.25 Once again, any stand adopted
by the Jews placed them in a precarious position. If they backed the bey
and the nationalists, the latter would probably have publicized this stance
for propaganda purposes, and the French would be alienated. On the
other hand, their support for French proposals, at least as a basis for
negotiations, would antagonize the nationalists.
As political unrest became widespread in 1953-54, particularly pre
ceding Mendès-France's autonomy declaration in Tunis on 31 July 1954,
what were the reactions among the Jews? Did they seriously consider
large-scale departure for Israel or France? Was there general panic?
Despite certain fears,26 and increased emigration to Israel in 1955-56,
a genuine psychose d ’affolem en t (psychosis of panic) was not evident.
Furthermore, the efflux of Jews gradually abated following the granting
of full independence. The Tunisian authorities, for their part, attempted
to dispel any notions regarding future discriminatory policies, and Pre
mier Tahar Ben-Ammar informed Maurice Perlzweig of the W JC that
“we have always maintained the best relations with the Jews, and there
will be no room for any sort of social discrimination in autonomous
Tunisia. The Jews will enjoy all rights like any other citizen.” 27 Ben-
Ammar pledged that a Jew would be included in the new cabinet, a
promise which was kept following the Franco-Tunisian autonomy accord
of 3 June 1955, when Maître Albert Bessis was appointed minister of
reconstruction and planning. Bessis considered his appointment as “an
affirmation of the permanent friendship of all autochtonous elements in
the country, which should eliminate the fears of those who expressed
some apprehension about Tunisian Jewry's future.”28
Maître Bessis's observation reflected the view of other members of the
French-educated elite concerning the future of the Tunisian communi
ties during the interval between autonomy and full independence. Albert
Memmi's opinions are especially revealing and, to an extent, retrospec
tively accurate. In Decem ber 1955 he wrote:
The moderate nationalists are making a real effort toward a rapprochement

[between Muslims and Jews] for the following very good reasons: (1) they need
the support of world public opinion; (2) with 500,000 to 600,000 unemployed,
Tunisia finds itself in a difficult position economically and needs the presence of
the Jews in the liberal professions at least for decades; (3) Jews can supply the
skeleton staff for the new administration; (4) despite internal difficulties, the Neo-
Destour is sincerely trying to establish a lay democratic state. In such a setting,
Jews normally have a place. Until now there was no lay Arab state in existence.
Tunisia would become a pilot experiment.29
However, Jewish integration in an independent Tunisia would not be

so simple. Educated at AIU and Protectorate schools, Jewish profession
als largely lacked adequate knowledge of Arabic which, since 1955, be
came the official language of the courts and administration. Not all Jews
adapted to Arabization and, with the passage of time, during the 1960s
and 1970s, were replaced by Muslims in the liberal professions and civil
service.
Most sources corroborate that many Jews lost their positions as busi
ness and trade intermediaries, commerce having become increasingly
the privilege of a Muslim caste. Consequently, they directed their efforts
toward the creative professions and scientific careers,30 while segments
of the Jewish population continued to depart— though on a smaller scale
than in 1955 -5 6 — for Israel and France.31
,
The Jewish Agency the State o f Israel and ,
,
Tunisian Jew ry 1948-1956
Emigration to Israel from 1947-48, a highly complex issue, was an

increasingly relevant option for the Jews of Tunisia as the struggle for
independence gained momentum and the Jewish predicament became
more acute. Based on available data, some Tunisian Jew s— like their
Moroccan counterparts— emigrated to Israel illegally in 1947-48 via
Algeria and France. From the end of 1948 or the beginning of 1949, the
Mossad Le cAliya was allowed by the French authorities to operate out of
Tunisia in organizing emigration discreetly, but not altogether legally. In
1948-49, 6,200 Tunisian Jews left for Israel (doubtless an exaggerated
figure); in 1950, 3,725 emigrated while in 1951, 3,414 departed; in 1952
and 1953, the emigration figures were 2,548 and 606, respectively.32 In
Table 16. cAliya from Tunisia, January 1954-October 1957

1954 1955 1956 1957
January 64 317 366 57

February 52 219 329 115
March 83 145 313 333
April 93 317 291 136
May 7 452 442 304
June 65 523 552 502
July 122 307 408 260
August 231 671 1,332 205
September 287 841 762 260
October 487 782 1,273 190
November 606 536 378 —
December 555 994 99 —
T otal 2,651 6,104 6,545 2,362
Source: CZA, S6/235, Hebrew.
1954, 2,651 Jews left for Israel whereas the figures for 1955, 1956, and
1957 were: 6,104, 6,545, and 2,362 (see table 16 for the precise break
down during 1954-57).
When they fled Tunisia in 1947-48, the Jews were assisted locally by
a Zionist underground. Whereas in Morocco the heads of the under
ground were Sam Abotbol and Elie Ohayon, affiliated with the Charles
Netter Association, in Tunisia the leaders of Tseire-Tsiyon/Dror orga
nized the escape. Among them were Nadia Cohen-Franco, ’Ilan Hajaj,
Moshe cAmar, ’Ilan Baranes, and Shoshana and Meir cIdan. The latter
also operated in Algeria to assist the Israeli emissaries in maintaining the
transit centers and attending to the emigrants.
With caliya tolerated by the French during the second half of 1948, a
special office to process emigrants was opened in Tunis on 12 Rue Sidi
Sifiane. It was managed initially by Dr. Leopold Baretvas, a dermatolo
gist of Hungarian origin who, during the German occupation of Tunis,
served as an interpreter from German to French on matters pertaining
to Jewish affairs. He later acted as the chief physician authorized by
Israel to administer the medical examinations for the emigrants. Another
important personality responsible for the creation and maintenance of
the new caliya office was Elie-Eugène Guetta, an attorney from Tunis.
He replaced Baretvas as the caliya representative, enjoying the title of
Chief cAliya Officer (ktsin caliya). He served in this capacity until 1951.33
By 1949, however, Guetta s title became meaningless. In fact, the

Mossad Le cAliya, in whose name Baretvas and Guetta managed the
caliya office, decided to dispatch at the time an Israeli emissary to over
see emigration. This diminished significantly the status of these com
munal Zionist personalities. Thus, when Nahum Dwinger arrived from
Israel to head the office, Guetta s functions became superfluous and
honorific. Dwinger consolidated his authority over the caliya, developed
several emigration branches in other communities, and injected stimulus
to the existing caliya commissions. He remained in his post until 1953—
first as representative of the Mossad Le cAliya (1949-50), then as chief
emissary of the Jewish Agency's Immigration Department (1950-53) once
the Mossad Le cAliya was no longer responsible for Tunisia.34 His main
assistants in Tunis were prominent community leaders and Zionists such
as Elie Nataf, Albert Bessis, Serge Moatti, Paul Ghez, Dr. Léon Moatti,
René Cohen-Hadria, and Sauveur Baranes, then the local JN F presi
dent.35
Added to his role as JN F president in charge of Zionist fund-raising,
Sauveur Baranes headed Tunisia's central caliya commission. Just as
similar organizations in French Morocco assisted Cadima, in Tunisia the
commission— representing delegates from different communities—
emerged as indispensable auxiliaries for the emissaries. The Tunisian
commission was composed of delegates from the Zionist bodies: Tseire-
Tsiyon, Atereth-Tsiyon (Jerba), the Revisionists, Torah ve-cAvoda (linked
to ha-Po cel ha-Mizrahi), and 5Ohave-Tsiyon. The commission helped in
predetermining which emigrants were eligible for emigration and into
which types of settlements they should be absorbed.36
In 1949-50, the caliya apparatus was prepared to deal efficiently with
the emigration process of urbanite Jews. However, as in Morocco, the
obstacles with emigration existed mostly in the south. Since the facilities
for screening the emigrants were unavailable there, caliya candidates
from the small towns and villages would be instructed to undergo the
medical examinations in Tunis. The distribution of passports for south
erners and northerners alike was carried out in Tunis. The Mossad Le
cAliya worked out an unofficial arrangement with the Protectorate in
order to facilitate the issuance of passports and visas. Eventually, when
these documents were issued in other locations where Arab officials were
in charge, Dwinger and his successors encountered few difficulties, working
out mutually agreeable arrangements with them. Once the emigrants
arrived in Marseilles, they underwent further medical tests while in

transit.37
Political conflicts between Dwinger and local Zionists, including the
Fédération Sioniste de Tunisie, flared up over those emigrants specifi
cally chosen for resettlement in Israel's m oshavim and kibbutzim . Several
local Zionists affiliated with Torah ve-cAvoda, among them Guetta, in
sisted that preference be given to religious settlements. On the other
hand, Dwinger, who belonged to Mapai, was determined to enlist as
many young emigrants for his movement s m oshavim and kibbutzim as
possible.38 As the number of Israeli emissaries increased and they repre
sented diverse parties and movements, the conflict was no longer con
fined to Dwinger and local Zionists, but to quarrels among the emissaries
themselves.
According to Dwinger, of the nearly 8,000 Tunisian Jews who made
caliya between 1948 and March 1950, most were poor, with 3,000 arriv
ing from the south.39 While the emigrants from across the country were
brought to Tunis from where they sailed to Marseilles, the Jewish Agen
cy's Immigration Department in Paris informed Dwinger in June 1950
about a plan to transport emigrants from Tunisia via Tripoli, Libya, to
Italy. Whereas emigrants from the major urban communities of the north
would continue to depart from Tunis and reach Israel through Marseilles,
Jews from remote southern communities close to the Libyan border
could leave by crossing into Libya. Considering that a British administra
tion was still in charge over Libya, Dwinger received instructions to
make every effort in accomplishing this task with the assistance of Hélène
Cazès-Benatar, the AJDC director for North Africa and Dr. Vardi, the
head of the caliya office in Tripoli.40
Dwinger was skeptical about adopting a second caliya route. He quoted
Vardi who said that Libya under the British would not allow Tunisian
emigrants to pass through their territory. Besides, Dwinger argued,
Libya was on the brink of national independence, a development that
would automatically put an end to this option. He did not think, more
over, that Tunisia’s French resident-general and the Protectorate admin
istration could support the plan. They already tolerated caliya via Tunis,
much to the dissatisfaction of the Muslims. Approving a new option
would further alienate anti-French forces on both sides of the border.41
The plan was never initiated. Furthermore, Libya became an inde
pendent state in 1951. Ironically, Israel voted at the United Nations in
favor of Libyan sovereignty; it was this vote that made the difference.
The Libyans responded in kind by closing the caliya office in Tripoli.42
Similar to Khaklai’s argument over Morocco, Dwinger urged the Mos
sad Le cAliya and the Jewish Agency to evacuate as many Jews from the
south as possible. He disclosed that several thousand Jews were scattered
in Arab villages, sometimes only a few dozens, in areas where tens of
thousands of Muslims dwelt. In isolated and remote regions security was
confined to one French army officer and a reduced force of Tunisian
policemen. What made matters worse, the local French officials were
hardly well disposed toward the Jews and Tunisian nationalist sentiments
were rising. Dwinger did not think that the Neo-Destour s Bourguiba,
having recently returned to Tunisia, was particularly sympathetic to
Jewish aspirations and sensitivities. He noted that Jewish women in the
south were raped and young girls kidnapped by Muslims. If the Jewish
Agency failed to rescue the southern Jews, the latter might be massa
cred. It was therefore logical for Israel to impose stringent health criteria
for emigration candidates in the safer urban areas; but the same could no
longer apply to the villages.43
Like Halevy and Khaklai in Morocco or Eliahu Brakha of the Mossad
Le cAliya in Egypt, Dwinger often opposed the limited monthly caliya
quotas. Writing in March 1951 to Chaim 5Ofek, the representative of the
Jewish Agency's Immigration Department in Paris, he was both adamant
and cynical about the policies that originated in Jerusalem:
I am like that Jew who laughs because he can no longer cry. My dear Chaim, it
is enough if I tell you that in Tunis and other urban areas alone I have more than
3,000 families registered for immediate 'aliya. In order to satisfy those from
Tunis who wish to emigrate I need a quota of 1,000 persons per month. Of
course, I am not asking the impossible. On the other hand, you also cannot ask
for the impossible. You instructed me to maintain a monthly quota of 150 persons
including fifty with Youth cAliya and fifty for the m oshavim . . . . So what’s left for
the caliya of ordinary Jews who have been registered several months to a year?
And what about the preference given to Jews in the south whose lives are truly
in danger?44
Rarely did the Jewish Agency or the Coordinating Commission in Israel

reverse its policies on quotas before 1954.
Dwinger would periodically visit the villages in the south for several
weeks at a time. In 1952, he tried to convince his superiors in Israel and
France to embrace an evacuation plan of eight hundred southern Jews

on a monthly basis. Yet all pleas were in vain. At the same time, in sharp
contrast to the period 1947-51, the urban Jews of the early 1950s were
less enthusiastic about caliy a.45
Small-scale achievements in the south were registered in Dwingers
favor, however. For example, in June 1952 he evacuated Jews from two
tiny villages near Gabès. Instead of administering the medical and social
criteria examinations in Tunis, he brought the villagers to Gabès. The
medical/social criteria were quite stringent at the time, and the screening
policies adopted in Jerusalem on 27 November 1951 (discussed in chapter
4) had to be enforced. Several families were rejected for caliya and
remained in Gabès. The eligible families went to Tunis where, prior to
departure for Marseilles, they underwent further medical examina
tions.46
It becomes apparent, however, that certain inconsistencies dominated
Dwinger s outlook on caliya. Though he consistently favored giving pref
erence to emigration from the south and did not think urban Jews were
particularly vulnerable, his justifications for the southern emigration are
confusing. Whereas in 1950-51 he spoke of the physical dangers con
fronting the Jews in connection with the nationalist struggle, in 1952 he
asserted that there were no physical dangers so long as the French
dominated Tunisia. Dwinger now maintained that Jewish existence in
the south was threatened econom ically. Thus, in order to avoid having
the Jews become impoverished, it would be better to evacuate as many
Jewish families as possible with the sole exception of hard-core “social
cases.”47
In 1953, Dwinger ended his mission to Tunisia. The year was unpro
ductive, as caliya did not exceed 606 people. Serious evacuation pro
cesses from the south were only contemplated in Israel during the mid-
1950s. And urban emigration was limited due to the decision of the Jews
— as was the case in Morocco of 1 9 5 2 -5 3 — to delay departures indefi
nitely. That year Dwinger was replaced by Shmuel Markuse, an em
ployee of Israel’s Ministry for Foreign Affairs and a former consul to
Prague, who directed the emigration until the summer of 1957. It was
also in 1953 that the main apparatus was transferred within Tunis from
12 Rue Sidi Sifiane to 18 Rue de Metz.
During Markuse s tenure, all Jewish Agency programs were pursued
in conjunction with his office and under his supervision. Whereas in

Morocco of the pre-1956 period each Jewish Agency department func
tioned independently within a decentralized system, and a similar policy
existed under Dwinger, Markuse’s determination to centralize received
the blessings of Jerusalem and minimized the conflicts between the
various departments which in the past hindered Zionist efforts. The
number of caliya emissaries increased, including for the south, and the
caliya facilities in Sfax and Sousse were expanded.
In order to assess the extent of the competition of the Israeli political
parties over caliy a, it is noteworthy that until 1956 or 1957, southern
Tunisia and Jerba were considered spheres of influence of envoys repre
senting the religious currents of Mizrahi, ha-Po cel ha-Mizrahi, and Torah
ve-cAvoda; the center (for example Sfax and Enfidaville) fell under the
influence of Mapai as well as the representatives of the m oshavim ; the
north was the domain of the Progressive Zionist party, while Tunis, the
capital, was open territory to the various political movements and parties,
although the caliya office on the Rue de Metz was dominated by mem
bers of Mapai.48
In 1953-54, the average number of children per family varied be
tween four and six, only rarely there being large families of ten to twelve
children. As in Morocco, the Jewish population in Tunisia was young:
infants and young people up to age nineteen made up 44 percent of the
population; persons aged twenty to forty-nine constituted 40.8 percent of
the total; and those fifty years of age and older amounted to 14.9 per
cent.49 The Jewish population in the south, the most sought after by
Markuse for caliy at surpassed 10,000 at the beginning of 1954. The
statistical breakdown by communities is shown in table 17.
As already noted in chapter 4, Shragai visited Tunisia and Morocco in
M ay-June 1954. Though convinced that the Jews of Tunis, Sfax, and
Sousse were safe in spite of the nationalist struggle, Shragai thought that
the situation in the Tunisian villages was worse than in those of Morocco
or Algeria. He claimed that one of the reasons for the danger in the south
was because Arab League agents, as many as 3,000, had been active
there during the first half of 1954. When Sharett challenged this “exag
gerated figure” at a Coordinating Commission meeting, Shragai retorted
that the French had informed him about this problem, recommending
that the Jewish Agency evacuate most of the southern Jews— first to
272 Tunisia's Struggle and Tunisian Jewry
Table 17. The Jewish Population of

Southern Tunisia, 1954
Town o r Village Jew ish Population
Gabès 3,500
Gafsa 500
Talmat 50
Sidi Kuzir 70
Timzert 60
Metlaoui 40
Gafta 30
Tozeur 50
Moknine 450
Al-Hamma 150
Kebili 350
Mongerraran 450
Tatouine 500
Zarzis 1,150
Jerba:
Hara Kablra 2,000
Hara Saghira 950
T otal 10,300
Source: S. Batish, Report on My Visit to North Africa
[beginning of 1954], ISA, FM 2388/13, Hebrew.
Tunis and then Israel. They expressed their willingness to assist in the
process, especially in villages where four to five hundred vulnerable Jews
dwelt among 40,000 Muslims.50
Shragai was not the only influential person to advocate increased caliya
from southern Tunisia. Jewish leaders and the Israeli emissaries had
urged the Coordinating Commission to do so since the early 1950s. One
should not forget that most of these pleas, including Shragai’s, were
made prior to Mendès-France's announcement in July 1954 concerning
autonomy. The ceaseless demands by Tunisian Jewish leaders, Zionists
and non-Zionists, for swifter action in this matter were often due to
reasons beyond Zionist or moral convictions. Some did not envisage the
possibility of settling in Israel, but sought to have the Jews of the south,
the poorer socioeconomic strata, emigrate to Israel, in order to relieve
themselves of the responsibilities of attending to these communities.
According to Markuse, and similar to Shragai’s findings, officials of the
French Residency also indicated that the continued presence of Jews in
Tunisia's Struggle and Tunisian Jewry 273
the villages constituted a security burden for them, and they suggested
that the Jewish Agency should do the utmost to evacuate them. On the
other hand, Markuse (unlike Shragai) added that the position of the
French security officials was completely different from that held by the
Residency which saw the situation in another light. The latter urged the
Jewish Agency not to engage in immediate large-scale evacuation.51 We
did not find evidence in the French Protectorate archives corroborating
Markuse’s argument, and are unable to determine its accuracy.
In a report dated three weeks before Mendès-France made his deci
sive announcement, Markuse expressed the belief that physical danger
was imminent in the towns and villages of the south, mainly those near
the border with Libya. In view of the increased activity of the rural
fighters, Charles Haddad and Meir Bellity in Tunis were pressing him to
evacuate these communities immediately.52 Indeed, even if by 1954
violence had spread to the streets of Tunis, it was in the south that Jews,
like Muslims, were vulnerable to the whims of these rural fighters who
pressured them to demonstrate solidarity against the French and ex
torted money from many artisans to finance their struggle.53
Given these trends, Markuse prevailed on Ya cakov Tsur, Israel s
ambassador to France, even to consider a daring rescue operation in the
south. Whereas the severely handicapped and sick would be left behind
to be cared for by the communal federations and the AJDC in the major
cities, the majority had to leave immediately: ‘T believe we are con
fronted with the problem of an immediate rescue operation and we must
find ways of bringing [the Jews of the south] to Israel before it is too late.
The fact that the Jews in the south have not yet been slaughtered does
not mean that emigration is not urgent; we have to learn from the errors
of the past and not to repeat them .”54
However, in tune with the Coordinating Commission’s findings and
his predecessor’s views, when surveying the urban Jewish population
Markuse favored the application of more or less strict selection criteria,
medical and social, to avert the possibility of emigration trends involving
only the lower socioeconomic strata. Since the security problems of the
Jews in areas like Tunis were not as acute as those in the villages, there
was no need as yet to speak of large-scale or rescue emigration. 55
Undoubtedly, there are many ambiguities surrounding Markuse. Was
he consistent in his support of priority to southern Jews after July 1954,
once autonomy for Tunisia was on the agenda? After all, he noted that
274 Tunisia's Struggle and Tunisian Jewry
during the first half of 1955, 70 percent of the Jews registered for emigra
tion were u rban ites,56 a statement in contradiction to his letters to Tsur.
We do know that his (and Shragai’s) recommendation for evacuation in
the south in 1954 was seriously considered in Israel and partially imple
mented. But it does not appear that a vast rescue operation emerged as
the outcome.57 Did the sharp increase in u rban emigration continue
throughout 1955 and 1956? Were families that migrated to Tunis from
the south and other regions classified as urbanites?
We lack answers to these questions. Yet, be that as it may, the major
development is clear: during 1955-56 Jewish emigration in gen eral from
Tunisia in creased though not on a very large scale and, as noted, not in
an atmosphere of panic. Whereas 16,493 emigrated to Israel during the
six-year period between 1948 and 1953, 15,300 arrived during the three-
year period between 1954 and 1956. The increase was partly due to the
cooperation of the French.58 In addition to the Tunisia-Marseilles route,
Markuse supervised the departure via Naples, an alternate route, begin
ning in November 1955.59
However sporadic and inefficiently managed, cAliyat ha-No car in
Tunisia is nonetheless partially consequential and worthy of attention—
particularly given certain tragic developments.
cAliyat ha-No car began its work in Tunisia in mid-1947, when three
hundred Tunisian Jews left illegally for Israel via Algeria and sailed in
the ships Yehuda H alevy and Shivat Tsiyon. Among the ships’ passengers
were numerous youths who were placed under the care of cAliyat ha-No
car. Toward the end of 1948 or beginning in 1949, ‘Aliyat ha-No car
opened an office in Tunis headed by Lydie Gozlan— an Algerian Jewish
woman carrying a French passport. Together with local assistants, Gozlan
organized branches of the organization in several key cities as well as
transportation facilities, with Dwingers help, to cAliyat ha-No car’s h a ch
shara and medical treatment centers in Europe. Between the end of
1948 and April 1950, 250 youths were sent to these centers prior to their
resettlement in Israel.60
As in Morocco, large Tunisian Jewish families, that were financially
desperate, expressed willingness to confine their children to ‘Aliyat ha-
No car. In many instances the parents were separated from their children
for two years until they themselves made caliya. Orphans also swelled
the ranks of youth caliya. Gozlan preferred to send to cAliyat ha-No car’s
homes in Europe youths who had reached the age of thirteen. No one
over fifteen could be recruited. Other youths left Tunisia with their
parents through the regular caliya apparatus, or with the aid of the
Zionist pioneer movements.61
Starting in 1949-50, cAliyat ha-No car sent its children for medical
treatment and/or h a ch sh ara to France, mainly to Cambous and Villa
Gaby. Their stay in France usually lasted six months. But until the
beginning of 1950, children from Tunisia, especially unhealthy ones,
were also sent to Oslo, Norway, for pre - caliya treatment. cAliyat ha-No
car's work in Oslo became possible following an agreement reached be
tween the AJDC and Norway's Ministry of Welfare. The agreement
stipulated that two hundred places would be reserved for North African
Jewish children in a special health center to be managed by Europahjel-
fen— an affiliate of the Norwegian Red Cross. In April 1949, the first
group of youth caliya arrived at the center, also known as Barnekoloni.
They were cared for by nine Israeli emissaries and teachers.62
A second group composed of youths from Tunis, Sousse, Nabeul and
Moknine, was to arrive in November 1949. On the morning of 20 No
vember, two Dakota planes, chartered by the AJDC and the Jewish
Agency, left Tunis with cAliyat ha-No car for Oslo. Fifty-eight children
were involved in this operation. Among the youth caliya personnel es
corting the children was Suzette Cohen-Coudar, Gozlan's trusted assis
tant. One of the planes landed safely in Oslo. The other plane crashed
thirty kilometers outside Oslo sixteen hours into the flight. Of the twenty-
eight youths on the plane only one eleven-year-old child, Yitshak Allai
from Moknine, survived.63 Among the dead victims were the pilot and
crew members, as well as Suzette Cohen-Coudar.
The tragedy sent shock waves throughout the Tunisian Jewish com
munities and brought the youth caliya issue to the attention of the
Muslims. Paul Ghez and Elie Nataf secured the victims' bodies from the
Norwegian authorities while, within one year, the Norwegians published
their investigation's report on the crash. They concluded that the flight
crew was insufficiently informed about weather conditions and physically
exhausted, having flown long hours the day before to bring Moroccan
Jewish youths from Oslo to Israel.64 To commemorate the Oslo tragedy
the Labor party in Norway raised funds that were subsequently allocated
for youth caliya homes.65
As for Yitshak Allai, the sole survivor, he recovered from his wounds
and returned to Tunisia. In September 1950, he and his parents settled
276 Tunisie s Struggle and Tunisian Jewry
LK T R A G I Q U E
M ETTE La G a ze tte I T I M ER A l H E
/
r
Nf«
Ot>
ma
WEN COUDAR
d 'Is ra ë l
no
V
uLjd
m novimiii ihi hebdomadaire f ul l fT T uuKiuti m'4)%
LE JUDAÏSME TUNISIEN
PLEURE SES ENFANTS
JL N E FAUT PAS S'ARRETER... § Ü ? 1 MOT SLg DEUIL
The Victims of the Oslo Tragedy, 20 November 1949, with a Photo of Yitshak
Allai, below , as the Only Survivor (courtesy of La Gazette d ’Israël, 24 November
1949).
Tragedy in Oslo: The Remains of the Dakota Plane after the Crash (courtesy of
La Gazette d ’Israël, 24 November 1949).
at Moshav Yanüv in Israel, situated between Tel-Aviv and Haifa near

Netanya. Yitshak remained in Yanüv, was married, and raised six chil
dren. He died on 14 February 1987 following a prolonged illness at the
age of forty-eight.66
Whatever little prestige cAliyat ha-No car enjoyed in Tunisia until
November 1949, it was lost in the aftermath of the tragedy. Parents were
now more reluctant to hand over their children to Lydie Gozlan. In
addition to the psychological trauma, caliya in general had declined
during the early 1950s and certain Tunisian Jews who settled in Israel
returned to Tunisia, as did their Moroccan counterparts.
Gozlan continued to direct the very marginal youth caliya operation
that survived. In order to buttress the program, the Jewish Agency
decided in 1952 to dispatch Ya'fr Douer to Tunis. A Syrian-born Israeli
who, as seen below, had been active in Tunisia during 1949-50 on
Mapai’s behalf, Douer ranked among the most experienced envoys in
Israel's early years of statehood. He was instrumental in forming Zionist
youth movements in Libya, Egypt, and Morocco, and in indoctrinating
their members ideologically. There was little doubt in Israel that Douer
was the best individual to contend with Tunisia's youth Caliya challenge.67
According to Douer, his work with cAliyat ha-No car in Tunisia was
brief and filled with aggravation. It began in August 1952 and ended in
October 1953. At first Gozlan refused to collaborate with him; and when
she agreed to tolerate his presence, after being pressured by the Jewish
Agency, he was unable to undo the damage caused in the communities
Table 18. Youth and General cAliya from Tunisia,

September 1952-August 1953
M onth G e n e r a lcAliya Youth cAliya
September 1952 136 19

October 113 22
November 69 —
December 43 10
January 1953 223 —
February 23 —
March 21 1
April 15 3
May 61 6
June 53 3
July 78 4
August 64 _4
T otal 899 72
Source: Y. Douer to ‘Aliyat ha-No‘ar, Tunis, 21 October 1953, CZA, S32/926,
Hebrew.
by the Oslo tragedy. The fact that people remembered him in Tunis as a
popular and admired emissary from the late 1940s, and being married to
a Tunisian Jewish woman, was of no consequence. Admitting failure in
Decem ber 1952, Douer wrote to David Umansky of cAliyat ha-No car in
Israel, that even the poor families no longer sent their children through
his office. Not only was caliya unattractive at the time, but Jewish orga
nizations such as the AJDC and ORT were helping the poor, providing
their children with meals and tuition-free vocational training. Hence
urbanite Jews, however poor, were in no hurry to leave.68
In August 1953 Douer was informed that cAliyat ha-No car would shut
down its operations in Tunisia effective October the same year. All
matters pertaining to youth caliya were to be handled by the general
emigration office, headed by Markuse. Efforts to revive cAliyat ha-No car
were only attempted once more in the late 1950s. Of the 402 children
that Douer cultivated for caliya, only seventy-two emigrated to Israel
(see table 18 for the numerical breakdown).
A pre-1956 Israeli presence connected with the Jewish Agency was
also felt in Tunisia through the activities of the Zionist political parties
and the DMO.
Politically, several of the emissaries in Tunisia representing youth
movements were responsible for laying the groundwork for active Israeli/
Zionist parties by 1949-50. Thus, the envoys of Dror and ha-Shomer ha-
Tsa cir represented Mapam, whereas their counterparts involved with
Bne-cAkiva/Bahad/Torah ve-cAvoda emerged as the spokesmen of ha-Po
cel ha-Mizrahi. Curiously, the only movement— both youth organization
and political party— absent from the scene was the dominant force in
Israeli society, namely Mapai.
Reflecting about his first mission to Tunisia in 1949-50 (July 1949-
September 1950) on behalf of Mapai and Gordonia (its youth movement,
also known as ha-Bonim), Yaïr Douer realized that not a single dynamic
spokesmen for Mapai and Gordonia could be found. Though Dwinger
was a member of Mapai, his work with the administrative aspects of the
caliya prevented him from plunging into political activity. Moreover,
Dwinger did not regard himself as an ideologue and had no experience
with youth movements. In order to enlist support for Mapai and intro
duce Gordonia into Tunisia, Douer lost no time in establishing close
contacts with progressive Jewish communal leaders.69
Beginning in summer 1949, Douer spoke to young audiences in Tunis,
Sfax, and Sousse about David Ben-Gurion, Israel’s premier and leader of
Mapai; what Mapai had accomplished in caliya, emigrant absorption,
economic development, and housing; and Gordonia/ha-Bonim— their
flourishing kibbutzim and m osham m . Among the community leaders
assisting Douer were Maître Sauveur Baranes, Meir Bellity, and René
Cohen-Hadria. Together they formed Mapai in Tunisia as an indepen
dent entity. Unlike Mapai in Morocco which was subordinate to the Po
cale Tsiyon movement in France and its Yiddish-speaking Ashkenazi
leadership, Mapai in Tunisia was remote from the Po cale Tsiyon, main
taining channels of communication directly with Mapai’s Israeli leader
ship.70
Douer and his supporters, avowed socialists for the most part, reached
many communities. They then laid the foundations wherever the oppor
tunities availed themselves, for Mapai and Gordonia. Considering that
Baranes and Cohen-Hadria were members of the SFIO (the French
Socialist party and its Tunisian branch), they could assist Douer in at
tracting many of S F IO ’s Jewish followers to Mapai. And whereas in
1948-49 Mapam, too, sought to win adherents among SFIO members,
the latter found Mapai to be less ideologically confusing than Mapam,
and more politically pragmatic.
Reacting to the gains made by Mapai/Gordonia in the summer of 1950,

Mapam and its youth movements— ha-Shomer ha-Tsa cir and Dror—
attempted to confront the challenge by questioning the need for another
Zionist socialist movement in Tunisia. These attempts were fruitless.
Mapam in Tunisia, as in Israel, was plagued by ideological quarrels from
within. The same could be said for the Revisionists who then debated
whether or not to support Menachem Begin’s new Herut party. Several
veteran Tunisian Revisionists did not wish to alter the old Revisionist
party structure. Mapai, therefore, did not face serious opposition to its
expansion and even managed to cooperate with the religious Zionists.71
Our data reveal that in June 1950 Gordonia had as many members as
the other secular youth movements,72 a significant achievement in light
of the fact that it was barely a year old:
Youth M ovem ent M em bership
Gordonia 3 0 0 -4 0 0
Dror 3 5 0 -4 0 0
Ha-Shomer ha-Tsa cir 3 0 0 -3 5 0
Ha-No car ha-Tsiyoni 3 0 0 -4 0 0
Bahad/Bne cAkiva 5 0 0 -6 0 0
In 1950-51 Gordonia assembled members in Tunis, Sousse, Sfax, Gabès,

and even Jerba. Many of its bogrim (graduates) underwent hach sh ara in
France during the 1950s and settled in Mapai-dominated kibbutzim and
moshavtm , including Kibbutz Ramat-Yôhanan (Douer s home), Moshav
Yanüv, and Moshav cAzrikam which is situated between Tel-Aviv and
Be5er Sheva near Kiryat Malahî.
When he left Tunisia in September 1950, Douer described Zionist life
there as exciting and diverse. The Fédération Sioniste de France was
active in promoting the sh eq el and the JN F drives. It was composed of
representatives from all the Zionist parties, several of whom were also
the presidents and active leaders in their communities. As late as 1951
the pro-Revisionist newspaper, L a G azette d'Israël, continued to appear
throughout North Africa, considered by far the best Zionist organ in the
Mediterranean basin communities.
As in Morocco, the DMO entered the Tunisian Jewish communal
centers beginning in 1949-50. It is pointless to probe into its social work
program again, for what it did in Tunisia hardly differed from the work
accomplished in Morocco. On the other hand, in the area of self-defense,
or m agen, the DMO in Tunisia made an important contribution.
Self-defense training in Tunisia was attempted as early as 1943-44
when Ephraim Friedman (Ben-Hayyim), Yigal Cohen, and Naphtali Bar-
Giora— the Mossad Le cAliya/Jewish Agency emissaries— reached Tuni
sia and collaborated with Tseire-Tsiyon and other Zionist youth groups.
However, the total illegality of their status in Tunisia at the time, the
lack of an official or semi-official cover in the form of a Jewish Agency
setting from within, and lack of time rendered the emissaries' work
incomplete. Still, several Zionist youths swore allegiance in the emissar
ies' presence to the Yishuv’s Hagana organization, and partial training
was provided in the use of knives, firearms, sticks, and in Judo.73 Several
Jewish leaders, among them Maître Albert Bessis, who many years later
became a cabinet minister in Bourguiba’s government, Paul Ghez, and
Dr. Leopold Baretvas, assisted the emissaries in the process. When
rumors circulated at the end of World War II that a pogrom would be
organized in Tunis's h arat al-Y ahü dy the young persons trained in m agen
were organized to defend the ghetto. In the end, a pogrom did not occur.
Magen continued into the late 1940s. However, as Friedman recalls,
in 1947 the self-defense in North Africa as inspired by the model of the
Hagana in Palestine was no longer cohesive. Unlike the pre-1947 period
when magen in Morocco, Tunisia, and Algeria existed under a unified
command, after 1947 each country had a separate command. Magen in
Morocco was entrusted to Sam Abotbol whereas in Algeria it was headed
by Paul Sebaoun. The command in Tunisia was in the hands of Hanania
5El-cAl. During 1947 North African magen activists underwent advanced
training in Algeria and France. Also, the Religious Zionists organized in
Tunisia their own self-defense organization, known as ha-m agen ha-d ati,
about which we have no information. By 1949, m agen hardly functioned
in North Africa, as several of its key leaders emigrated to Israel leaving
behind the burden of self-defense to the small nucleus of ha-m agen ha-
d ati.74
The efforts to revive the secular m agen were attempted by the DMO
in 1949-50. In Tunisia, the training was conducted by Israeli emissaries,
the most important being Moshe Hababo (Arnon) from Kibbutz Regavlm.
Hababo’s responsibilities extended beyond Tunisia into the Jewish com
munity of Constantine in Algeria. Toward the end of 1950, forty young
persons were trained in Tunis by eight of Hababo’s assistants and sixty

additional new recruits were ready to undergo training. The Tunis nu
cleus had in its possession nine revolvers, three submachine guns, and
two rifles “of the best quality.” This group had collaborated with a local
chemist who manufactured hand grenades.75
The DMO self-defense efforts in Sousse, Sfax, Gabès, and Jerba are
noteworthy, too. In Sousse, one non-Israeli was in charge of the opera
tion, assisted by seven trainers. The number of trainees reached twenty
in November 1950. They had two revolvers and a new submachine gun
at their disposal. The m agen in Sfax was quite modest— one trainer
overseeing sixteen men using three revolvers. The situation in Gabès
was somewhat better organized. For a southern community, where the
Jews were more vulnerable to pogroms than in the northern cities,
m agen had five trainers who were local recruits, and eighteen activists
possessing sixteen revolvers and one submachine gun. Gabès emerged
from the late 1940s onward as an important center for both young Zion
ists and the nationalists. Yet the largest DMO-sponsored operation in the
south existed in Jerba. Jerban m agen consisted of fifty youths who trained
for twenty-four hours every week. Their trainers were also local men
who received instructions from the DMO emissaries. When tensions
between Muslims and Jews reached boiling point in September 1950,
m agen activists took up positions in the Jewish community to defend
against pogroms. Though no riots occurred, it seems that the self-defense
effort would have been ineffective considering that the activists had only
three revolvers available.76
Doubtless, Tunis had the most efficient magen in North Africa in
1950. It also served as the “nerve center” that maintained ties with the
other cells. Printed “guidance” materials were produced in Tunis and
distributed as “instructions” in Sousse, Sfax, Gabès, and Jerba. Hababo’s
second-in-command was a certain “Zvi.” Alongside shooting practices in
remote and deserted areas outside the city, thirty-six hours were devoted
each month to training in the use of knives, sticks, and in Judo. Weapons
were inspected regularly while contact with weapon merchants was con
tinuously maintained by “Zvi.” The AJDC funded the activities. A special
underground newspaper was published that included coded messages
and passwords for the activists in the aforementioned communities. After
the newspaper was decoded the readers destroyed the evidence.77
Each recruit in Tunis and elsewhere was sworn in by submitting a
written pledge of allegiance to m agen. The document was then de

stroyed, yet without the knowledge of the new recruit. A special commit
tee was formed in the communities consisting of people whose function
included punishing members who violated the codes of honor, especially
for informing the authorities on other activists.78 In April 1951, several
key trainers had made caliya. Further, as noted, the DMO was disman
tled in September of that year. Consequently it is doubtful that any
serious m agen programs were preserved afterwards. Only in 1955-56 did
Israeli envoys of M ossad revive self-defense in Tunisia, Algeria, and
Morocco, a subject analyzed in chapter 9. Nevertheless, the work accom
plished under the auspices of the DMO proved its usefulness in June
1952, during the unrest at Hafsia. M agen s activists faced the assailants
and temporarily repulsed them.
Thus far we have analyzed Jewish Agency-related strategies, policies,
and activity. We need to probe further how Israeli diplomats in Europe
and the United States assessed the evolution of Tunisian Jewry.
Israeli diplomats who were approached by spokesmen of the Neo-
Destour in the West shared the opinion of Tunisian Jewry in considering
that party as the preferable political alternative, should Tunisia be granted
home rule or full independence. Interestingly, the strategy of the Neo-
Destour included gaining Jewish support in the United States; (for ex
ample, in New York they approached Senator Herbert H. Lehman and
Congressman Emanuel Celler as well as Jewish labor leaders). Among
the Neo-Destour representatives seeking Israeli and American Jewish
support was Bahi Ladgham, a member of the party’s political bureau and,
during the 1950s, deputy prime minister in Bourguiba s first cabinet
following the granting of full independence. He met the most influential
Jews and was introduced in New York to Mordechai Namir, then the
secretary-general of the Histadrut, Israel’s labor federation, conveying to
him that the position of Tunisian Jewry would not deteriorate once the
French granted Tunisia political concessions.79
On 25 June 1952, at about the time that Asians and Latin Americans
were trying to bring the issue of Tunisian sovereignty before the United
Nations Security Council, Ladgham met with Gidecon Rafael of the Israel
mission to the United Nations. Rafael used the occasion «.c raise the
Tunisian Jewish problem, particularly in light of the incidents of 14-16
June in Hafsia. He was assured that Neo-Destour supporters encouraged
a Judeo-Muslim entente and were fervently opposed to the greatest
enemies of all Tunisians: the “reactionary cu/amâ5 and the Zitounists. The
Neo-Destour, Ladgham claimed, was secularly-oriented, reformist, and
unique in the sense that it was friendly to both the Jews of Tunisia and to
the State of Israel.80
Ladgham's objectives, it appears, were twofold: first, to secure indi
rectly Israel's vote at the United Nations in favor of French concessions
to Tunisia; and second, to present the Israelis and American Jewry with
a positive image, perhaps with the aim of utilizing their influence in
Washington. However, the Israelis at the United Nations were con
cerned about the Hafsia crisis. Rafael informed Ladgham that these
events had damaged the otherwise positive image of the Tunisian nation
alists, and that in the future the Neo-Destour supporters within Tunisia,
along with the other movements, would have to restrain various followers
or apolitical groups from intimidating the Jews. Ladgham's response was
that the French were the culprits. For years they adhered to the colonial
policy of divide et im pera with regard to Muslims and Jews, appearing as
the protector of the latter. He added that the Neo-Destour considered
the Arab League as a reactionary, divisive, and powerless organization
and, without raising the issue of bringing the Tunisian question before
the United Nations, Ladgham explained the aims of home rule.81
Israel's voting record shows that it favored a moderate United Nations
draft proposal submitted by the Latin American bloc to the General
Assembly, supporting the pursuance of Franco-Tunisian negotiations.
However, in a later round of voting, Israel rejected a more radical draft
proposal submitted by thirteen Arab and Asian nations calling upon
France to uphold Tunisia’s right to self-determination.82 In addition to
stressing the Hafsia incidents, Rafael hinted to Ladgham during the
meeting that it was Israel's decisive support at the United Nations the
year before which had determined the granting of independence to
Libya. Libya had already revealed its ingratitude to Israel. Would Tuni
sia really behave differently?83
Finally, when asked by Rafael if an autonomous Tunisia would permit
Jewish emigration to Israel, Ladgham observed that the Neo-Destour
appreciated Tunisian Jewish identification with that country’s national
struggle. Yet, in view of the persecution of the Jews throughout history,
it understood that many Tunisians would wish to settle in Israel, and this
the Neo-Destour would not oppose.84
Israeli diplomats often raised the issue of whether links with North
African nationalists in general would in the long run benefit both Israel
and North African Jewry. Shmuel Divon, first secretary to the Israeli
embassy in Paris during the early 1950s, favored establishing secret ties
with the nationalists through nonofficial channels, with Marseilles serv
ing as the rendez-vous. The fate of French colonialism had been decided,
he contended, and independence for North Africa was drawing close.
Such contacts behind the back of the French government might help
safeguard the position of nearly 500,000 North African Jews.85
On the other hand, Emile Najar, a leading Israeli diplomat involved
with the questions of Middle Eastern and North African Jewry, took a
different view in response to Divon’s suggestion. He held that behind-
the-scenes talks with the nationalists could very well damage Franco-
Israeli relations, as France was in a constant state of alert regarding its
colonial interests. Moreover, such contacts would probably be exploited
by the nationalists for public relations purposes and Israel would receive
nothing in return. It would be preferable to maintain open links with
some of these forces, as demonstrated by the Ladgham-Rafael meeting.86
While we have no way of determining if secret talks took place be
tween 1952 and 1956, Najar s views were supported by prominent French
Jewish leaders close to the Quai d’Orsay who were probably pressured to
discourage Israel, and Tunisian Jewish intellectuals who supported the
Neo-Destour financially and morally. Not only did they oppose the pos
sibility of secret contacts but several of them criticized Israeli efforts to
meet nationalists in the open, warning the Israeli government that such
a policy would endanger the position of North African Jewry.
An illustrative example is to be found in an urgent message bearing on
the Tunisian question at the United Nations sent by René Cassin, the
president of the AIU, to Foreign Minister Moshe Sharett on 13 June
1952. According to Cassin, rumors were circulating that the Arab states
boasted they could gain Israel’s support for the convocation of a special
session on Tunisia in the General Assembly.87
Cassin warned Sharett that North African Jewry would be in a difficult
position if Israel endorsed nationalist claims at the United Nations or
some other international forum. The AIU, he said, having acquired vast
field experience in those communities over many decades— in the edu
cational, social, and political spheres— was their guardian. Cassin criti
cized what he termed the lack of realism prevalent among Americans
who supported Tunisian nationalist claims (he was particularly concerned
with the supporters of the Vieux Destour who in his opinion were
extremists), an example Israel should not follow. If the French were
forced to evacuate parts of North Africa, the position of the Jews could
become impossible. Given the risks involved and the danger of pogroms,
it was the duty of the AIU to sound the alarm and convince Israel not to
back Tunisian claims; otherwise Israel's support would be like “une
opération meurtrière” (a murderous operation) against Tunisian Jewry.88
C h a p ter 9
From Internal Autonomy to Full

Independence: The Post-
Independence, Decolonization
Era in Tunisia
T h e I m m e d ia te P o s t - I n d e p e n d e n c e E r a — U ntil
F a ll 1 9 5 7
Following the Mendès-France visit to Tunis, the general opinion prevail

ing at the Israeli embassy in Paris was that the Jews in Tunisia might now
be compelled to yield their positions in the liberal professions and trade
to Muslims. Furthermore, although the violence was hitherto largely
directed against the French, the Jews could become victims.1 Would
segments of the population refrain from harming the Jews? Would the
nationalists succeed in restraining their followers?
As events unfolded, these speculations proved to be largely unfounded
for the first two or three years of the decolonization process. Autonomy
in 1955 led to full independence in March 1956. Elections to the first
National Assembly were held on 25 March 1956. Approximately 12,000
Jewish voters were eligible for the electoral lists. Originally it was as
sumed that four seats would be assigned to Jewish representatives. Later,
however, it was decided to establish a special Jewish representation, but
reserve two seats for Jews on the list of candidates of the Tunisian
National Front, whose kernel was the Neo-Destour. Maître Albert Bessis
and André Barouch were elected.
Habib Bourguiba became premier on 10 April 1956. On 25 July 1957
287
288 From Internal Autonomy to Full Independence
the National Assembly deposed Muhammad al-Amin Bey and nominated

Bourguiba the first head of state of the Tunisian republic. In November
1959 he was elected to the presidency, an office he held until his over
throw in November 1987. Bourguiba then set out to implement his well-
known secular reforms, breaking with the theocratic past.
His attitude toward the Jews was positive. André Barouch was ap
pointed to the position of minister of public works and housing, and
Bourguiba visited Jewish institutions on several occasions. On one such
visit in February 1957 Bourguiba addressed a large Jewish audience at
the Nos Petits’ center in Tunis:
It is a pleasure for me . . . to visit this organization whose task is to educate

Jewish children socially and morally, in this house which belonged to Nissim
Semama, who was the general treasurer of the Tunisian government long before
the Protectorate. This proves that the Tunisian government has never known any
racial discrimination and that we have always considered the Tunisian nation as
including Muslims and Jews as well as Christians. This attitude dates back to the
persecution of which we both were victims in Spain, and which created this
brotherly friendship between us.
I do admit that in some unfortunate periods, marked by the ignorance that
always produced fanaticism— a complex of pride which cannot allow others to
hold a different opinion, even in politics— there has been a regression, an
unfriendly relationship which has resulted in a rift between Muslims and Jews.
We have always struggled against this fanaticism, trying to enlighten the minds
of our countrymen, whom we endeavored to induce to share our views; we tried
to bring both sides closer and we hope that we have been successful to a great
extent.
In this troubled world Tunisia stands out, different and sympathetic, not only
because of the governing elite, but also because of the population which imitates
it, respecting the human being, which leads to a brotherly relationship between
this nation and foreigners. It is this equilibrium, so rare in the world, that we
have tried to achieve and that we are going to achieve, in spite of the present
instability.2
Bourguiba explained his policies clearly to both local Jewish leaders

and representatives of the major Jewish organizations, who continued to
arrive in Tunisia after 1956 in order to secure data on the Jewish popula
tion’s political and social status.
On 29 June 1957, an American Jewish Committee delegation com
posed of American leaders and the Paris-based representatives arrived in
Tunisia and met with Bourguiba as well as the deputy prime minister,
Front Internal Autonomy to Full Independence 289
who was none other than Bahi Ladgham. They informed the delegation
that emigration would not be forbidden. However, those Jews who de
cided to remain were expected to demonstrate their loyalty as good
citizens. Bourguiba explained to his visitors that the structure of the
Jewish communities had to be reorganized and directed exclusively by
Jews of Tunisian nationality. He added that representative bodies of the
communities would be able to arrange religious, cultural, and philan
thropic events, and the Jewish organizations— AIU, AJDC, ORT, O SE,
W JC — would maintain their influence. On the other had, the govern
ment would not provide the twenty million francs subvention to the
community federations as the French Protectorate had done, because
these bodies were still dominated by non-Tunisian nationals who could
receive assistance from foreign sources.3
In 1956-57 Bourguiba was quite popular among the Jewish masses.
He reached the zenith of his popularity after calling on the Egyptian
ambassador and protesting against Nasser s policy of expelling Jews from
Egypt in the wake of the October-Novem ber Sinai/Suez Middle East
war. Bourguiba was particularly adamant about the expulsion of Tunisian
Jewish nationals living in Egypt for decades who now became refugees.
Even those Jews who thought that their economic situation in an inde
pendent Tunisia was uncertain still argued that, as long as Bourguiba
remained in power, they had little to be concerned with.4
Continuing to serve as caliya director in 1956-57, Markuse did not
believe that Bourguiba’s positive gestures on Egyptian Jewry’s behalf, or
his cordial relations with Tunisia’s Jews, could be traced merely to hu
manitarian and liberal traditions. Reporting to Shragai on 10 January
1957, Markuse remarked that when Bourguiba visited the United States
several months earlier, he sought to procure loans for Tunisian national
development from international banks and the Eisenhower administra
tion. President Eisenhower and Secretary of State John Foster Dulles
appeared undecided over this issue and Bourguiba’s aides contended that
the reluctance might have been part of a “wait and see” strategy. The
Eisenhower administration wanted to see if Bourguiba would institute
genuine democracy in his country as promised; and whether or not his
domestic opposition as well as exiled opponents in Egypt, among them
Salâh Ben-Youssef, could succeed in undermining the regime. More
over, Eisenhower was not about to alienate the French government with
which Bourguiba was on bad terms at the tim e.5
It was therefore imperative for Bourguiba to demonstrate to the Amer

icans and their European allies that Tunisia was politically stable, sensi
tive to human rights issues, and tolerant toward the Jewish minority. He
was also eager to make a good impression on American Jewry whose
leaders, he felt, wielded considerable influence in city and state govern
ment, not to mention the Eisenhower administration and the Senate.
Would they display gratitude by assisting in the lobbying efforts for the
loans?
Even if Bourguiba displayed opportunistic tendencies, his pro-Jewish
attitude carried an element of risk, for it was formulated at a time when
Nasser of Egypt had mounted a campaign against pro-Western regimes
in the Arab world as well as against Western-oriented religio-ethnic
minorities. In fact, al-Istiqlâl, the organ of the Vieux Destour, attacked
Bourguiba for criticizing Nasser over the expulsion of Egyptian Jews.6
One of Bourguiba’s most important gestures vis-à-vis the Jews was to
tolerate caliya and emigration to France. However, though he seemed
eager to portray a positive image of a democratic and liberal Tunisia
before the Western world, and there is little doubt as to his flexibility
concerning free emigration much of the time, Tunisian officials— often
without his consent— occasionally adopted measures that contradicted
the declared promises. At the time of the 1956 Sinai/Suez war, the
Tunisian regime halted caliya temporarily. Markuse was informed that
Bahi Ladgham was pressured by the Egyptian ambassador in Tunis to
stop granting passports to Jews, for the young elements among them
arrived in Israel and joined the army. It was particularly disturbing to
the Egyptians that Tunisian passports were valid for three years and thus
it turned out that citizens of Arab Tunisia were fighting on Israel’s side
against them. Ladgham was urged to view the Sinai/Suez war and caliya
as all-Arab problems.7
Several days pursuant to the meeting between Ladgham and the
Egyptian ambassador, the commissioner and inspector-general of the
Tunis police informed Markuse that passports would not be issued to
emigrants. The latter were also prevented from boarding one of the
emigrant ships. Following Markuse’s demarche before the authorities,
the ship was allowed to leave. His angry protests, directed at the port
authorities, and the influence he enjoyed among officials of the Ministry
of the Interior— quickly produced the desired results. The passport
distribution resumed, although Markuse was asked to provide signed
From Internal Autonomy to Full Independence 291
guarantees for every passport bearer. The guarantee procedure was meant
to ensure that the Jewish Agency be held responsible for the emigrants.
Should the latter choose to return to Tunisia, Israel or the Jewish Agency,
not the Tunisian government, would bear the brunt of the financial and
welfare matters on their behalf.8
Once it resumed, the caliya declined. The numbers dropped from
6,545 in 1956 to 2,618 in 1957. This sharp decline was partly attributed
to the increased emigration to France. In April 1956 the United HIAS
Service opened its offices in Tunis to assist 1,200 Jews to emigrate to
countries other than Israel.9 The decline in emigration was also due to
the feeling among Jews that Bourguiba had succeeded in consolidating
his power and in neutralizing the Youssefites (Salâh Ben-Youssef s sup
porters) whom they considered as their enem ies.10
The fact that Bourguiba tolerated the presence of the caliya emissaries
and permitted the Jewish Agency apparatus in Tunis and other regions
to function, was a unique phenomenon in the Arab world of the 1950s. It
was also suggested that Bourguiba understood that, had he emulated the
Moroccan example of banning Cadima, the process would have been
organized clandestinely.11 As Markuse remarked:
[The] approach [of the authorities] is pragmatic. The fact of the matter is that
they continue to supply us with passports. In the passport France is entered as
the country of emigration, but they know very well that the passport bearers are
making caliya [via France]. . . . They are compelled to give satisfaction to Arab
pressure in the Middle East and consequently they refrain from stipulating in the
passports that Israel is the emigrants’ country of destination.12
Two unfortunate incidents in 1957 had nearly shaken the foundations

of the Jewish Agency’s operations. First, on 24 May policemen entered
the premises at 18 Rue de Metz, confiscated funds, gathered documents,
and took Markuse and his assistant, Meir Heimon, for questioning.
Another emissary, Dan Kariv, and M. Herzberg, a person in charge of
fund-raising for the JN F, were arrested. Although the attitude of the
authorities was friendly, they wanted to find out if the caliya office was in
any way involved with the fund-raising campaigns conducted illegally by
the JN F. According to Jewish Agency sources in France, the Tunisians
would have tolerated fund-raising efforts in favor of Israel. However, the
process was carried out in an indiscreet manner and caused uneasiness
among the Muslims.13 After their interrogations were over Markuse and
Heimon returned to their office to conduct business as usual; the mate
rials confiscated from them, including the funds, were handed back. Dan
Kariv was expelled from Tunisia while Herzberg and his local assistants
were tried and then imprisoned for one month before being expelled
from the country.14
The second incident occurred in August 1957. Two Israeli emissaries,
Ya cakov Hefer representing the Jewish Agency's Department of Torah
Education in the Diaspora, and Gershon Har-Tov of No car ve-he-Haluts,
were summoned by the Tunis police for interrogations. They were beaten,
threatened at gunpoint, and coerced to sign a document attesting they
were not “French spies." The only person who could render some assis
tance to them was Zvi Heitner, Markuse's successor as head of the caliya
office. Not as well connected with the authorities as his predecessor,
Heitner, an Israeli who carried a Belgian passport, nevertheless told the
police commissioner that his men behaved toward the emissaries in a
manner contrary to Bourguiba's policy statements. He said that, should
the emissaries be detained longer or harassed, the Israeli government
would publish articles in the major Western European and American
newspapers to enlighten the public about human rights violations in
Tunisia. The commissioner released the emissaries and promised that
such incidents would not recur.15
How were the emissaries of No car ve-he-Haluts and the Department
of Torah Education in the Diaspora able to organize Zionist youth edu
cational activities? After the Fédération Sioniste de Tunisie ceased to
function in 1956, Zionist youth movements and their Israeli guides car
ried out their programs under the auspices of the Federation of Jewish
Youth in Tunis. Officially non-Zionist, this federation served as a cover
for Zionist action because the authorities recognized its legitimacy in the
Jewish cultural domain.16 Curiously, the federation was administered by
several of the emissaries, among them the aforementioned Dan Kariv
and Dov Foder from Kibbutz Hazor who, like Heitner, was a Belgian
national. According to Kariv, the authorities were aware of the Zionist
orientation of programs under the guise of the federation, but chose to
tolerate this as long as the emissaries and m adnhxm conducted their
affairs with the utmost discretion.17 This freedom of action extended to
other communities. Atereth-Tsiyon in Jerba, founded in 1919, continued
to function well into the late 1950s; it was dissolved by the community.18
A confidential report submitted to the Jewish Agency in December

1959 revealed that, despite the official ban on Zionism, activity contin
ued in Tunis. At the time 350 members were affiliated with Dror, ha-
Shomer ha-Tsa cir, Gordonia, and Bne-cAkiva as compared with 670 in
May 1957.19
The semilegal or tolerated Zionist activity was supplemented with
underground programs in the context of self-defense. As in Morocco, the
M ossad-sponsored M isgeret spread its influence into Tunisia and Algeria.
As for Tunisia, Shlomo Havilio visited there toward the end of November
1954. When he returned to Israel, he submitted a detailed report on his
findings. Despite the decline in terrorist activity since the end of July
1954, the Jews could not be guaranteed safety once French colonialism
disappeared. Therefore, he made the following recommendations. First,
self-defense guidance needed to be revived among the young to confront
potential pogromists. To realize this goal, Israel had to dispatch army
officers or former officers to Tunisia. Second, it would be the officers*
task to select local youths with exceptional leadership qualities for further
advanced training in Israel. Third, the Israelis functioning on the local
level would contact reliable community leaders who could work in con
cert with them .20
Havilio’s recommendations were not welcomed unanimously in all
political circles active on behalf of Tunisian Jewry. Joseph Golan of the
W JC attempted to dissuade Havilio from providing Tunisian youths with
self-defense lessons and encouraged him to concentrate instead on “Zi
onist and physical education”:
I told Havilio that I consider his plan to be far too daring for the moment. I
suggested to him to have Israeli officers trained as educators for Hebrew culture
and physical education, so they may provide the youths with moral and physical
training which is indispensable for understanding the [conceptual] significance of
self-defense. But they must desist from its actual application, postponing it to a
later period.21
Golan added that this problem had to be discussed in the upper echelons
of the Israeli government, preferably between Pinhas Lavon, the defense
chief, and Dr. Nahum Goldmann, the president of the W JC .22
In the final analysis, Havilio’s recommendations were approved. In an
interview with this author, he admitted that his fears of Tunisian nation
alists were unfounded. The Tunisians had definitely been sincere. The
main problem was the Algerian factor in Tunisian society, particularly
after Tunisia became independent:
We needed M isgeret’s self-defense system in Tunisia because since November

1954, Algerian terrorism and nationalist ferment, marking the start of Algeria’s
Revolution against the French, had not been confined to Algeria. In the face of
French repression, the Algerian Front for National Liberation was compelled to
transfer several of its military units from Constantine and the Aurès region to
Tunisia. From Tunisia these units infiltrated back into Algeria to engage in
terrorism. That is why we justified the presence of M isgeret: to defend the
communities against the possibility of these elements attacking Jews.23
During Havilio’s tenure as head of M isgeret (1955-60), M ossad-re

cruited individuals were entrusted with the task of guiding young Jews.
Among them were “Henri” (whose real name must remain anonymous),
Yehuda Greenbrrg, and Ram Journo. One of the trainees in Tunis was
Henri Semama, today a resident of Haifa.
Semama was recruited into the M isgeret in 1956. As in Morocco and
Algeria, each new recruit swore allegiance in a dark room to the M isgeret
by placing his hands over Israel’s flag, the Bible, and a revolver. The
main efforts were directed at the h arat al-Y ahüd in Tunis, where thou
sands of Jews dwelt. Several apartments were rented in the city’s diverse
residential districts with funds allocated by the M isgeret’s headquarters
in Paris. The activists would inform the apartment managers that they
were bachelors looking for small apartments. In reality, once rented, the
apartments served as weapons caches and places to conduct self-defense
training as well as to assemble and dismantle firearms.24
In 1957 Semama was sent to France for advanced training. There, he
and several other men were taught the art of transmitting secret mes
sages and codes, and how to confront different types of assailants. Upon
returning to Tunis, Semama became one of M isgeret’s unit commanders.
The M isgeret consisted of several such units, each functioning indepen
dently of the other, with contacts between them maintained only through
the units’ commanders. To the best of Semama’s knowledge, the conduct
of M isgeret’s members was exemplary; they demonstrated loyalty and
refrained from informing on each other to friends or to the authorities.25
Until 1961, the M isgeret could hardly justify its existence or boast of self-
defense accomplishments in Tunisia. Though constantly on the alert, no
Table 19. The Jewish Population

of Southern Tunisia, 1957
Town o r Village Population
Hara Kabira 1,396

Hara Çaghïra 546
Zarzis 506
Ben-Gardane 267
Tatouine 312
Medenine 245
Gabès 1,305
Al-Ham ma 39
Jabll 181
Gafsa 200
T otal 4,997
Source: CZA, S6/235, Hebrew.
major challenges came to the fore,26 as was very much the case in
Algeria.
The Post-1957 Period
After replacing Markuse as caliya director in August 1957, Zvi Heitner

remain in his post until July 1960. Like his predecessor, Heitner and his
emissaries complained that the Jews were not at all anxious to go to
Israel. The south still provided would-be emigrants who were willing to
undergo the medical/social screening procedures. Yet even there the
enthusiasm of the pre-independence period was gone. Moshe Farajon
and M. cAidan, the Caliya envoys for the south, found a limited clientele
in Jerba s H ara K abira and in Zarzis. They fared better in Gabès, where
out of a community of 1,300, five hundred had planned caliy a.27 Yet on
the whole the situation was not promising (see table 19 on the Jewish
population in the south during 1957).
Heitner usually obtained the passports for the emigrants through his
office and arranged for the baggage to be loaded onto the ships. How
ever, it was also possible after 1957 for the emigrants to apply directly for
the passports. The more affluent Jews often emigrated to Israel on their
own initiative and did not turn to the caliya office.28 As time elapsed the
status of the emigration office underwent certain modifications. It was

registered as a Swiss agency to cover up its functions. The Ministry of
the Interior and the police informed Jewish Agency officials in Geneva
that it would be better to present the caliya office as a Swiss association
for Hebrew studies, providing aid to needy families. This development
occurred in 1958, after Tunisia (like Morocco) was pressured to join the
Arab League. Despite their relatively flexible policies over emigration,
the authorities could no longer afford to alienate Nasser of Egypt, then at
the height of his popularity in the Arab world, or, for that matter,
segments of the population in North Africa who were opposed to caliya.29
The sign outside the main caliya office on Rue de Metz now read L ’Ag
ence Association Juive Suisse, instead of L ’Agence Juive (The Jewish
Agency).30
Until the latter half of 1959, emigration continued unhampered. This
did not signify that the authorities were completely happy with Jewish
Agency policies. In July 1958 Maurice Perlzweig and Joseph Golan of the
W JC met with Ahmad Mestiri, Tunisian secretary of state for justice.
Mestiri raised three complaints. First, Israel’s attitude toward North
African emigrants, regarding them as inferior citizens, was disturbing.
He said that settling them in the Negev, where living conditions “were
horrible,’’ was a virtual crime. Second, hundreds of disillusioned Tu
nisian Jews were returning to Tunisia. Third, based on police reports,
the Jewish Agency in Tunis conducted public propaganda campaigns in
favor of ‘aliya, especially in the south. The W JC delegates were encour
aged to inform the Jewish Agency in Jerusalem about these problems.
Mestiri hinted that emigration from southern Tunisia should be slowed
down, for the Jews in that part of the country were important to the local
economy. Nonetheless, he ruled out the possibility that Tunisia would
follow Morocco’s ban on emigration.31
While Heitner reported at the end of 1958 that his office and emissar
ies were occasionally overcome by Tunisian bureaucratic red tape, with
emigrants having to prove they had paid all taxes and outstanding debts,
some of which were invented by officials, the authorities showed consis
tency in granting freedom of movement. Heitner confirmed that the
small-scale caliya in 1958 had nothing to do with the regime: “the main
difficulty was with the unwillingness of the majority of the Jews to make
caliya. . . . Thousands are postponing emigration, even in the south.”32
It was in the latter half of 1959, however, that those Jews in the south
who sought to emigrate to Israel were refused passports for at least eight
months.33 It seems that the authorities, as Mestiri told the W JC the year
before, wanted southern Jews to remain for economic reasons. Jewish
Agency sources also claimed that, as the regime s fiercest opponents were
concentrated in the south, and considering that the Jews constituted a
loyal pro-government element, even though only 5,000 of them dwelt
there, their continued presence was encouraged.34 On the other hand,
Jews from Tunis, Sfax, and Sousse easily obtained passports. In order to
circumvent the restrictions for the south, Heitner transported southern
Jews to Tunis. After several weeks they received their passports as if
they were residents of that city. These operations went unnoticed, for so
few emigrants from the south opted for 'aliya.35
Special insights into political and social life in Tunisia in general and
in the Jewish communities in particular are evident in a special report by
Yitshak Yeger, a senior Jewish Agency official who visited the country in
December 1959. Despite Bourguibas optimistic forecasts about Tunisia’s
political future, Youssefites’ opposition in the south led his regime to
adopt repressive measures against them. The jails of the south and the
north were filled to capacity with political opponents, including the
former governor of Jerba. The opposition, moreover, intensified across
the Arab world following Bourguibas decision to challenge Nasser’s lead
ership and to boycott the Arab League, one year after Tunisia joined it.36
Regarding Israel, Yeger was pleasantly surprised by the regime’s be
havior. The government’s semi-official organ, L a P resse, published infor
mation about Israeli society regularly, which included the results of the
1959 elections to the Knesset. On United Nations Day, flags were dis
played in the window of the American Cultural Center, among them
Israel’s flag with the country’s name in both Arabic and English.37 No
other Arab country in the Middle East and North Africa would have
permitted a display of the Jewish state’s national symbols in its midst. It
was also commonplace for Tunisian cabinet ministers to discuss with
admiration Israeli national and economic developments, notably in the
agricultural sector.
These attitudes were welcomed by Tunisia’s Jewish masses, although
their support of the regime was confined to Bourguiba and his personal
ity. They did not adhere to the Neo-Destour party with any special
enthusiasm. When top-ranking party and government officials visited the
h arat al-Y ahüd in Tunis sometime in 1959, only four people showed up
for a reception in their honor. Jewish leaders panicked. They went into
the cafés and roamed the streets to gather an audience. Only a few
people actually agreed to cooperate. Then, on 1 November 1959, the
date marking the fifth anniversary of Algeria s revolt against the French,
the chief rabbi of Tunis was invited to a reception honoring Algerian
leader Ferhat cAbbas. According to Yeger, the only reason the chief rabbi
accepted the invitation from the Neo-Destour was out of concern that his
absence could have caused a rift between the community and the re
gime.38
Whereas the ordinary Jews supported Bourguiba, even if they were
indifferent to the Neo-Destour party, the Jewish leadership of the late
1950s became suspicious of his intentions concerning their status as
communal heads.39 This attitude on their part was not altogether unjus
tified, given the fact that the government was determined to reorganize
the Jewish communities in 1958-61. Already in April 1958, Ahmad
Mestiri submitted a draft law proposing certain reforms to Tunisian
Jewish leaders. The law called for the establishment of tem porary man
agement committees (Comités Provisoires de Gestion) to become effec
tive— beginning with Tunis— during the second half of that year. When
the law was promulgated in Tunis (1958) and the rest of the country (by
the early 1960s), it dissolved the community councils as well as the
welfare funds. It also restricted the competence of the communal organi
zations to religious matters, religious services and concomitant philan
thropic activities, as well as religious education for the youths. One of
the reasons for the disbandment of the councils was the governments
contention that their leadership, composed of personalities such as Charles
Haddad, was not sufficiently Tunisian in culture and outlook.40 Surpris
ingly, the new management committees, controlled by the more politi
cally acceptable leaders, retained the tem porary status and remained
unaltered until the 1970s.
Without underestimating Bourguiba’s reforms, the possibility of abso
lute loyalty of Jewish leaders to an independent Tunisia was placed in
doubt by certain political forces within the country. No longer was it a
matter of choice between loyalty to colonial rule or to the nationalist
movement. The decision of the Jewish leadership had to be a one-way
street.
Though the newly appointed leadership, willingly or unwillingly, en
dorsed the government’s decision, officials of international Jewish welfare
organizations (AJDC and O SE in particular) were initially somewhat

anxious about the 1958 law. These bodies were not subject to the mea
sures, but their delegates wondered at the time what position the gov
ernment intended to take with regard to their activities.41
Jewish anxieties resurfaced during the summer of 1961 in the wake of
the Bizerte crisis. In July Bourguiba demanded that French president
Charles de Gaulle evacuate the French bases at Bizerte, a port city in
northern Tunisia, some of the last vestiges of the colonial past. The
situation developed into full-scale fighting and resulted in a needless
massacre of Tunisian civilians and military defeat for Tunisia, but no
evacuation until de Gaulle’s unilateral decision, which would probably
have been taken in any event, more than two years later.
For the Jews the crisis precipitated emigration. If in 1960 only 1,800
left for Israel and France, from the end of July until late September 1961,
3,500 Jews arrived in France. This figure did not include some 500-600
in transit in Marseilles on their way to Israel. Approximately 2,000 were
French citizens and the remainder Tunisian nationals, many of whom
were evacuees from Bizerte and nearby Menzil.42
From these data it is not clear if 250 Jews from Bizerte, rescued by an
Israeli-French operation, were included in the statistics. In August 1961
the M ossad and the Jewish Agency received information that the condi
tions of the Jews in Bizerte had become perilous. The Misgeret in France,
headed since 1960 by Ephraim Ronel, the Jewish Agency’s Immigration
Department, and David Izwotzki, the new caliya director for Tunisia,
decided to evacuate as many Jews as possible. It is estimated that in 1961
between 1,000 and 1,200 Jews dwelt in Bizerte. Many of them, especially
French nationals, did manage to obtain passports. Others drifted to
nearby communities and did not return to Bizerte until the crisis ended.
However, approximately 250 Jews remained, mainly people who were
not granted Tunisian passports.43
Assisting the M isgeret was Maurice Metuk, a native of Bizerte and
Izwotzki’s caliya representative there. Metuk not only provided the Jew
ish Agency in Paris with a list of people who had no passports, he also
contacted M. Jeanot, the French consul-general at Bizerte. Independent
of the Misgeret's evacuation plans, Metuk collaborated with the consul-
general in sending to France small groups of Jews who later were settled
in Israel.
As for the Misgeret's efforts, these were inextricably bound up with
Metuk's connections. On 8 September 1961, 130 Jews in Bizerte were

organized for departure by the M isgeret activists. This procedure was
realized only after Metuk enlisted Jeanot's help in convincing the French
naval authorities to transport the evacuees. The latter were then escorted
to the town's naval base by French paratroopers and boarded the vessel
Ville d O ra n . They reached Marseilles by way of Bone, an Algerian port
city, and afterwards arrived safely in Israel. On 13 September, the
M isgeret organized “Operation Har-Sinai” with the help of the French,
in which ten Jews boarded a vessel for Marseilles. Two days later the
M isgeret sent an additional fifteen Jews to France in “Operation Jericho."
There were as many as one hundred Jews yet to be rescued. But the
French showed signs of reluctance to continue the evacuation operations.
In order to obtain the support for a final rescue mission, Metuk flew to
Paris to discuss the matter with Ephraim Ronel and Ya cel Vered. The
latter was an experienced diplomat, an adviser to Walter Eytan, Israel s
ambassador to France, and well connected with the M ossad. Ronel and
Vered decided to call upon cUzi Narkiss, the Israeli military attaché in
Paris, to utilize his ties with the leading generals who were close to de
Gaulle. Perhaps they would provide the desired approval for the evacua
tion.
Soon after Narkiss contacted several generals, he realized that the
main obstacle to the evacuation could be traced to the Quai d'Orsay
whose officials argued against the rescue of Jews who were not French
nationals. To speed up matters, Vered and Ambassador Eytan supple
mented Narkiss's efforts by attempting to reach the most influential
French political personalities who might broach the issue with de Gaulle
or his premier, Michel D ebré.44
On 21 September there were indications that the evacuation would be
approved. Metuk returned to Bizerte to assist in organizing the depar
ture of the Jews. The initial phase, known as “Operation Moshe," was
smoothly executed. Twenty-one people boarded a ship for Algeria with
the French consul-general's blessings. Following further delays at
tributed to French political calculations, the task of removing the addi
tional people was under way. On 30 September they were assisted
aboard a French landing craft by French soldiers and the M isgeret’s
activists. After a brief transit period in Algeria and France, the evacuees
arrived in Haifa. Bizerte remained without Jews until October or Novem
ber 1962, when about two hundred of them returned to their homes.45
These caliya operations were the only deviations from the M isgeret’s
functions in Tunisia that were in the framework of self-defense. Regard
ing Metuk, he later settled in Israel where he was presented with a
special award for his role in the rescue mission by Yitshak Ben-Zvi,
Israel s president.
Many Jews throughout the country believed that their communal life
had drawn to an end in 1961. According to Jewish sources, there were
further political developments which encouraged Jews to leave in in
creasing numbers. First, Bizerte had accentuated the Jewish problem
because the Tunisians accused the Jews of having been identified with
the French from the start. This had shaken the faith of Tunisian Jewry in
the attitude of their Muslim compatriots. Second, the clashes in Oran
(Algeria) between Jews and Muslims in 1961, at the height of the Alge
rian Revolution, had received ample coverage in the Tunisian press,
showing North African Jewry as a whole in the most unfavorable light.
Consequently, many Jews had reached the conclusion that, since the
press was partially government-controlled, these articles reflected Bour-
guiba’s attitude. Third, following Bizerte, there were indications that
during the early autumn of 1961 Bourguiba adopted a closer approach to
the Arab League and Nasser, after having kept his distance from them in
1959.46
There was some concern over the unfolding of political events among
AJDC and United HIAS Service officials. The position of the United
HIAS was that Tunisia’s Jewry had suffered a serious setback resulting
from the crisis. Yet French nationals (mostly non-Jews) were the main
target of the authorities. The latter were expelled in significant numbers,
picked up by the police at their homes, and escorted straight to the
airport or boats, often without a chance to change their clothes. This
measure, however, was never applied to whole families but only to men
who were either professionals or well-known French activists. As for
emigration, a United HIAS report noted that, except for the restrictions
imposed in Bizerte,
many Tunisian Jews (with their families) have taken advantage of the vacation
season and left for France with tourist visas. Since the Bizerte crisis emigration
to Israel has gained a new impetus. Many Jewish families eager to leave the
country have already left, or will be leaving soon, for Israel. This movement is
working out smoothly and without any interference from the government author
ities. It was said that restrictions were established for the issuance of passports.
However, the great rush of applications has created a slow-down in the process
ing.47
The A JDC’s assessment of the factors that inhibited an even greater

movement out of Tunisia included: (1) the prohibition on the export of
possessions and money. Jews with French citizenship were able to regis
ter their property with the French consul and thus at least draw up an
inventory. In some cases they opened bank accounts abroad or had
families in France, but Jews of Tunisian nationality had no consul to
whom they might turn and were constrained from taking immediate
action; (2) Tunisian Jews were concerned about the education of their
youths. Tunisia offered the advantage of a vast educational network
sponsored by the Mission Universitaire et Culturelle Française (MUCF),
temporarily paralyzed following the crisis. Given the limitations imposed
on currency withdrawal and transfer abroad, the Jews were unable to
register their children in schools of metropolitan France and waited until
Franco-Tunisian negotiations resolved the crisis.48
The situation gradually returned to normal. By 1962-63 most, if not
all, of the Zionist and youth activity had come to an end. Emigration
continued in 1962, when over 2,000 Jews— including numerous young
people— departed. During 1962-67 emigration to Israel declined in
favor of France, only to increase temporarily following the June 1967
war. (See table 20 on the Jewish population during 1964-67 and table 21
for comparative data on Jewish emigration in 1962 and 1964, assisted by
the United HIAS Service and the Jewish Agency.)
Ivore Svarc, a former United HIAS Service delegate to Tunisia, vis
ited the country in August 1961 after a three-year absence. During his
stay he met his personal friend, Maître Bessis. Praising Bourguiba for
suppressing activities and utterances directed against the Jews during
the Bizerte crisis, Bessis nevertheless expressed the conviction that there
was no future for the Jews in Tunisia. Bessis, Svarc concluded, appeared
like one who felt that all he had hoped and worked for had been de
stroyed.49
The fact that Jewish life in Tunisia continued and that 2,000 Jews,
mainly old people, still remained in the country in 1991, confirms that
the communities did not totally cease to exist in the 1960s, 1970s, and
1980s. Nevertheless, the departure of young people weakened the com
munities, whose synagogues and cultural centers were deserted.
Table 20. The Jewish Population of Tunisia with the Exception of Tunis and Its Environs: 1964-1967*
A pril 1964 A pril 1965 A pril 1966 A pril 1967 S ep tem b er 1967
Bizerte 200 88 55 59 46
Mateur 40 45 45 40 22
Béja 90 90 80 70 59
Suq el-Khemis 11 — — — —
Testour 55 — — — —
Gafsa 97 97 90 80 —
Sousse 1,700 1,220 1,000 950 752

Nabeul 750 685 600 533 457
Mahdia 55 — — — —
Sfax 1,700 1,450 1,350 1,300 1,200

Gabès 560 535 460 400 289
Kebili 90 95 85 65 —
Medenine 190 196 184 136 130

Tatouine 350 296 280 213 205
Ben-Gardane 207 150 160 120 143
Zarzis 470 466 448 445 445
Jerba:
Hara Kabira 1,300 1,250 1,300 1,200 1,195
Hara $aghira 500 500 420 420 392
Total 8,365 7,163 6,557 6,031 5,335
Source. Population israélitc en Tunisie— à l’exception de Tunis et banlieue— Nombre de personnes. Arch. AJDC/Jerusalem, 242B /56.601B .
♦Tunis had approximately 20,000 Jews on the eve of the June 1967 Middle East war.
Table 21. Comparative Data on United HIAS Service-Assisted Emigration and Jewish Agency-Supervised cAliya from
Tunisia, 1962 and 1964
United HIAS Service Monthly Totals Jewish Agency
France U.S.A. Canada Italy
1962 1964 1962 1964 1962 1964 1962 1964 1962 1964 1962 1964
January 122 53 — — — — — — 122 53 132 3

February 79 34 — — 6 — — — 85 34 81 7
March 81 72 — — 7 — — — 88 72 213 41
April 125 34 — 4 1 5 7 — 133 43 97 42
May 120 107 8 5 — 5 — — 128 117 264 29
June 115 112 7 — — — — — 122 112 112 51
July 113 246 — — 1 — — — 114 246 226 82
August 103 312 — — — 18 — — 103 330 188 91
September 110 448 5 — — 5 — — 115 453 246 90
October 88 113 — 4 — 5 — — 88 122 101 79
November 8 98 — — — — — — 8 98 77 112
December 48 86 — = = — 48 86 51 19
Total 1,112 1,715 20 13 15 38 7 0 1,154 1,766 1,788 646
Source fo r 1962: AJDC Annual Report— Tunisia (1962), Arch. AJDC/Jerusalem, 242B.
Source fo r 1964: AJDC Annual Report— Tunisia (1964), Arch. AJDC/Jerusalem, 242B.
In 1964 the authorities once again placed obstacles in the way of Jews
wishing to emigrate to Israel. To lift the restrictions, Easterman met with
Bourguiba in Switzerland on 2 September 1964. Bourguiba denied that
his office instructed the Ministry of the Interior to curb emigration,
adding:
You know that I have never stood in the way of Jews leaving Tunisia for Israel;
departures are still continuing. I am the only Head of State in the Arab world
who has voluntarily not prevented Jews from emigrating to Israel. I have followed
this practice consistently over the years, sometimes in the face of pressures upon
me to reverse my attitude, and I have not changed.50
Despite the denials, the problems did exist. During the Bourguiba-
Easterman meeting the former contradicted himself and suggested that
if certain obstacles were encountered by Tunisian Jews it was because
“you must realize that it is impossible for me to ignore and detach myself
from events which, in the Arab world, are passionately regarded as of
major importance to the Arab states/ 51
It appears that the main opponent of Jewish emigration in 1964 was
Mongi Slim, Tunisia’s foreign minister, who emerged as a firm advocate
of improved relations with Egypt’s Nasser and the Syrians. Bourguiba
apparently succumbed to Slim’s influence over the emigration issue. The
restrictions were lifted, however. In November 1964 Bourguiba was
reelected president by 96.43 percent of the voting population, which was
generally regarded as strengthening his authority. He dismissed Slim
and appointed his son, Habib Bourguiba, Jr., as foreign minister. By the
end of November the temporary restrictions on the issuance of passports
were withdrawn. These developments served to encourage Tunisian Jews
in the hope that no further discriminatory measures against them would
likely be taken by the new government.52
Until the June 1967 war, Bourguiba s government did not heed the
warnings from Cairo or Damascus to halt Jewish emigration. In March
1965, Bourguiba Jr. informed Easterman that Nasser had been told in
categorical terms that any attempt on his part to exercise pressures or to
influence Tunisia in any direction would not be tolerated.53 Therefore,
Shragai could still boast in 1965 that “despite the hardships confronted
by the Jewish Agency’s office in Tunis, it still functioned and remained
the last Israeli and Zionist address in the Tunisian diaspora.”54 But he
added that one of the reasons for the limited caliy a, and increased emi
gration to France in recent years, had to do with the description in the
Tunisian media about Israel s socioeconomic difficulties and its uncon
trollable security problems.55
On 28 November 1966, Bourguiba, speaking in an old synagogue in
Jerba, declared, “Our State belongs to all Tunisians without distinction
of race or religion. It is concerned with helping all its Tunisian sons,
whatever their faith. In return, it asks of them only sincerity in their
words and devotion in their deeds/ 56 This declaration was welcomed by
the Jewish communities which had been reduced by then to approxi
mately 25,000, because it assured them that the head of state remained
the guarantor of their rights. However, the clouds of danger hovered
over the Jews nearly six months later with the outbreak of the June 1967
war.
On 5 June, a crowd of Tunisian Muslims, shouting such slogans as
“Down with the Jews/' “Into the Sea with the Jews/' “Let s Bum the
Jew s,” burnt the monumental Star of David adorning the front of the
Great Synagogue of Tunis. Dozens of vehicles were damaged. The dem
onstrators even tried to set fire to the buildings in which the frantic
Jewish population had sought refuge. Jewish stores, including the Bock-
boza kosher winery in the suburbs of Tunis, were looted. Many young
Jews were attacked and beaten.57
Bourguiba did not learn of the incident until late in the evening. In a
televised speech the next day, he called the demonstrators “irresponsible
fanatics who deserve the gallows. ” Eighty of them were arrested, and the
government promised severe punishment for them.58
After the demonstrations, a large-scale polemic began in the French
press. Numerous witnesses asserted that the demonstrations were not
spontaneous, but had been thoroughly organized. Others added that the
police even lent a hand. One Tunisian Jewish observer said privately that
it was “a concerted action, planned in detail in high quarters,” and
added: “This veritable pogrom has left a permanent mark on us.” In
answer to the polemic, the Tunisian government published a commu
niqué, denying that the demonstrations had been organized. Two weeks
later the head of Tunisia’s national police was replaced in recognition of
the fact that intervention by the police had not been rapid and efficient
enough.59
In August 1967 a rumor circulated among Jewish leaders that Bour-
guiba faced opposition from Planning Minister Ahmad Ben Salah, a hard
liner in his government. As a result many families left the country in
haste— and this despite Bourguiba s declarations; the imprisonment of
some of the demonstrators; the official apologies to the Chief Rabbi
Nessim Cohen; the manifesto signed by a number of Tunisian intellec
tuals expressing “solidarity with their Jewish fellow citizens”; and the
appointment of a commission that was to appraise the damage to Jewish
merchants so that they could be indemnified. Most of them went to
France.60
After the late 1960s the remaining communities lived in peace. Until
1982 no major conflicts emerged between Muslims and Jews, even dur
ing the 1973 Middle East war. It was after 1982, however, when the
Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO) moved its headquarters to Tun
isia, that Judeo-Muslim relations deteriorated, particularly at times of
Israeli military operations inside Tunisia against this force. Still, as long
as Bourguiba seemed in charge, Jewish life was somehow preserved. His
removal from power on 7 November 1987 may have placed the Jews in
danger. Moreover, the growing threat of the Muslim fundamentalists in
North Africa— their gains in Algerian municipal elections in 1990 under
the banner of the Islamic Salvation Front, led by cAbassI al-Madanl and
Ahmad Belhaj; the attempt by similar movements in Morocco to muster
support against the Sharifian monarchy; and their ability to win adherents
in the challenge against secular authority in Tunisia even prior to Bour-
guibas downfall— can only hasten the ongoing communal self-liquidation
process. Only the current peace process may halt it.
Economically, the educational system of the communities— French
mission schools (MUCF), as well as Rabbinic schools, AIU, O RT— could
not provide a bright future for young Jews after the mid-1960s. Several
factors account for this situation. In the first place, economic conditions
in the country had become increasingly unstable since the Bizerte crisis
for Muslims and Jews alike. Secondly, Jewish craftsmen were systemati
cally and progressively eliminated in most fields of endeavor, with the
exception of the jewelers who had entered into the jewelers’ cooperative.
Practically all Jewish artisans, unwilling to become employees or to join
the new socialist-inspired cooperatives, intended to leave the country
sooner or later. Thirdly, gradually but evidently, the number of small
Jewish business enterprises was also decreasing, as Jews sold out to
Muslims or simply abandoned their shops whose position, economically,
Table 22. Tunisian Jewish School Enrollment, December

1967
Location or School Number o f Pupils
Or Torah—Tunis 360
Lubavitch—Tunis 240
ORT—Tunis 304
AIU—Tunis 28
(+3,000 Muslims)
Jerba: 295
Hara Kabïra/Or Torah & Daber cIvrit
Hara Saghlra 100
Zarzis 100
Medenine 35
Tatouine 66
Ben-Gardane 17
Gabès 48
Total 1,593
Source: Stanley Abramovitch, Report on Visit to Tunisia, 6 - 1 4 December 1967,
Arch.AJDC/Jerusalem, 403.
had become marginal. Lastly, increasing government regulatory activi

ties, as well as the introduction of high taxes, were developments which
prompted the departure of Jews to France.61
The mid-1960s and subsequent years also witnessed population shifts.
Jews from the south moved to the north, mainly to Tunis, either for
resettlement or as transients seeking to emigrate. Whereas until 1956
Jews within Tunis moved from Hafsia to the Europeanized suburbs of
Ariana and La Goulette, the movement in 1964-67 was from the suburbs
to the center of the city.62
On the eve of the 1967 Middle East war, the communities had lost
most of their dynamic leaders to emigration. This development had a
devastating impact on Jewish education, for there were hardly enough
competent persons to supervise community institutions.63 After 1967
school enrollment declined sharply. As in Morocco, enrollment was the
best yardstick to gauge communal self-liquidation. Whereas in 1964,
3,284 youths frequented Tunisia’s Jewish schools, only 1,593 attended in
December 1967. Due to reduced enrollment, community schools in
Tunis were combined, thus creating enormous problems for the teachers.
The latter were now contending with varied levels of knowledge among
different groups of integrated children. Combining schools also posed a

problem in relation to the socioeconomic difference of the youths. In the
past, youths in Tunis attended Jewish community-sponsored schools in
accordance with social status.64 (See table 22 for data on Jewish enroll
ment throughout Tunisia at the end of 1967.)
Only a few Jewish schools still functioned in Tunisia after 1967. In the
late 1960s the AIU and ORT in Tunis were combined into one school.
During the 1972-73 school year, AIU pupils performed exceptionally
well on the state examinations. But the reality of the passing of a com
munity was evident when only fifty-one children attended the AIU/ORT
school.65 In 1974 the AIU put an end to its Tunisian operation after
ninety-six years of service. Other schools followed in its steps, as Tu
nisian Jewry of the 1970s and 1980s became an aging population.
Chapter 10
Algeria’s Political and Social Struggle:

Algerian Jewry’s Dilemmas
Jewish Society and Politics until 1958
As in Morocco, Jewish population growth in Algeria was significant after

the conquest of the country by the French. In 1830 there were only
between 30,000 and 35,000 Jews whereas in 1881 the Jewish population
climbed to 35,563, as compared to a European settler population of
432,252 and a Muslim community of 2,842,497. In 1931, however, the
Jewish population reached 110,127 as compared to 850,279 Europeans
and 5,593,045 Muslims. Based on the data, it is evident that between
1881 and 1931, the European population had augmented by 97 percent
while the Muslim and Jewish populations had increased by 97 and 210
percent, respectively.1
These statistics make it abundantly clear that during a fifty-year period
Algeria was transformed from an underpopulated to a demographically
expanding population; and from a society composed of indigenous Mus
lim and Jewish communities to a heterogeneous, multicultured one,
including Europeans (French, Italian, Spaniards). The impressive Jewish
demographic growth was attributable to improved hygienic conditions,
emigration of Jews from Morocco and other Mediterranean basin areas,
the expansion of medical facilities, as well as economic and political
stability under French domination. Interestingly, similar factors con
tributed to the population increase in the Jewish communities of Egypt
following the British occupation in 1882.
In 1941 the population in Algeria was as follows: seven million Mus-
310
Algeria s Political and Social Struggle 311
Table 23. The Jewish Population of Algeria, 1956

Town or City Population
Algiers 35,000
Oran 35,000
Constantine 25,000
Ghardaïa (The Mczab Saharan Region) 6,000
Bone 5,000
Sétif 5,000
Philipville 4,000
Sidi-Bel-Abbès 4,000
Tlemcen 4,000
Mostaganem 2,000
Blida 1,400
Ain Tamouchent 1,200
Mascara 800
Saida 800
Orléanville 600
Suq Aram 500
Rélizane 450
Frigo 400
La-Guette (Saharan area) 350
Afarville 240
Touggourt 150
Vargla (Saharan area) 120
Total 132,010
Source: “Algeria,” Netivot, 6 April 1956, 62, Hebrew.
These data are incomplete, as several communities are omitted.
lims; 800,000 French naturalized citizens— mostly Spaniards and Ital

ians; 150,000 French who originated from Metropolitan France; 150,000
Europeans not possessing French citizenship; and 130,000 Jews, most of
whom were French citizens.2 On the eve of Algerian independence
nearly nine million Muslims and one million Europeans dwelt in Algeria
while the Jewish population increased to approximately 140,000 (see
table 23 for Jewish population data for 1956).
The Jewish communities in Algeria adhered to the law of separation
between church and state and could only be considered as private agen
cies. Thus, after World War II the communities were still organized in
consistoires at the major centers; they continued to subsidize Jewish
communal activities. Their budget depended on membership fees, reve
nues from goods, properties and synagogues, taxes on kosher wine as
312 Algeria s Political and Social Struggle
well as meat sales, gifts, and retributions for religious ceremonies such as
marriages and circumcisions. The expenses included salaries for the rab
bis. As in previous years, the consistoires were composed of lay members
from among the people in the communities. They had to be twenty-one
years old or older and residents of their community for not less than
twelve months. The supreme consistorial council members whose ranks
included the chief rabbis, lay presidents and vice-presidents, were elected
by a secret ballot. To become eligible, they had to be at least twenty-five
years old and French nationals. The terms to which they were elected
could not exceed eight years.
As we have seen, in 1947 the communities and their consistories
created the FCIA which served as an umbrella organization to unite the
consistories and other communal bodies. The FCIA was administered
during the late 1940s and early 1950s by a council in which the chief
rabbi of Algeria, the chief rabbis of Algiers, Oran, and Constantine, and
the consistorial presidents represented the supreme leadership of Alge
rian Jewry. These leaders, too, were elected officials, usually for a two-
year term, although in practice they served for longer terms. Their work
was supplemented in the mid-1950s by sixty-one community members of
whom twenty-one represented the départem en t of Algiers, twenty-two
the dép artem en t of Oran, and eighteen the départem ent of Constantine.3
The FCIA ’s budget depended on the very same financial resources as
the con sistoires’ budget. A substantial portion of the allocations went to
subsidize the Ecole Rabbinique— created in 1948 at Algiers and admin
istered by Rabbi M. Fingerhut, Algeria’s chief rabbi— which trained the
future rabbinic elite of teachers and spiritual leaders. The students at the
Ecole Rabbinique received the second cycle of secondary education
leading to the baccalau réat examinations. For the first time in 1954-55,
three rabbis completed their six years of training and received their
diplomas. They later performed important religious functions in the
smaller communities where they were needed.4
Educationally, progress in developing Jewish studies was modest,
albeit evident, in the post-W orld War II period. Though many youths
continued to attend French government schools, including the Univer
sity of Algiers, Jewish religious schools on the primary level also enjoyed
partial growth owing to the intensified efforts of the FCIA, the AJDC,
and the Jewish Agency. However, as late as April 1954, only 2,500 youths
frequented talm ûdê tôrah throughout the country, several of which were
affiliated with the AIU. The largest of these institutions was in Constan
tine with 1,000 children. Algiers had 250 children in talm ùdê tô ra h ,
whereas Oran and Tlemcen had 350 and 150, respectively. It was the
FCIA s goal to enroll at least 15,000 children in such schools as part- or
full-time pupils, a challenge that could not be met in modern-day Jewish
Algeria. It was feared that the absence of Jewish youths from such
institutions would pose serious problems, for a new generation emerged
that was completely deprived of any Jewish education.5
The major obstacle rendering comprehensive Jewish education incom
plete was attributed to the fact that education at French government
schools in Algeria, as in France, was obligatory; and in principle, all
Jewish children were admitted into these schools. Not only were Jewish
youths in the major cities exposed to secular influences, but the majority
could attend talm ùdê tôrah only during recess periods. The French
educational system consisted of five days of class and two days of recess:
Thursday and Sunday. These two days of recess enabled the children to
rest, for the programs at the French-type government schools were
generally “plus chargés” (more demanding) than those of other countries.
As no courses in religious education were given in the secular govern
ment schools, the consistoires supported the talm ùdê tôrah to bridge the
gap by offering Jewish studies during the two-day recess period and
during summer vacations.6
Other educational initiatives included the efforts of the DMO and the
Department of Torah Education in the Diaspora (DTE hereafter). As in
Morocco and Tunisia, the DMO s endeavors were short-lived. Arye Lie-
berman, one of its representatives who served as a school principal at an
AIU-affiliated talm üd tôrah in Constantine, introduced partial curricular
reforms by adding the teaching of modern Hebrew, Jewish history, and
aspects of Zionism. However, he did not alter the religious curriculum
itself so as to avert a conflict with the rabbis. Lieberman also trained his
Algerian-Jewish staff and prepared them to meet the challenge of teach
ing Israeli-oriented subjects. Like their counterparts in Oran and Algiers,
Jewish pupils in Constantine frequented the French public schools and
came to the AIU-affiliated talm ùd tôrah on Sundays, Thursdays, Chris
tian holidays, and during summer vacations. Still, Constantine Jewry
made certain that most Jewish businesses were closed on Saturdays and
Jewish holidays. Mixed marriages (between Jews and Europeans) in that
community were fewer than in Oran and Algiers, while their support for
314 Algeria’s Political and Social Struggle
Israel was quite intense. The synagogues in Constantine were better

attended than the ones in the other major cities. According to Lieber-
man, as the attachment to religion was stronger in Constantine than in
other large communities, the parents insisted that their children absorb
as much Jewish education as possible, especially in the summertime.
Consequently, Jewish studies surpassed in quality the education offered
in other communities.7
Replacing the DMO s role in Jewish/Hebrew education, during the
early 1950s, were the emissaries of the Jewish Agency’s DTE. By 1954-
55 the various consistories were enthusiastic about the D T E ’s religious
emissaries operating in their communities. It became clear that the
Jewish leadership of the 1950s sought greater contacts with the rest of
the Diaspora and Israel than at any time heretofore. Events in the Jewish
world in general and the upheavals in Algeria in particular following the
outbreak of the Algerian Revolution had profound influences on the
leadership, prompting it to stress Jewish values.8
O f special importance was the A JDC’s position. Until 1957, the Jews
in the départem en ts of Constantine and in Bone depended on the AJDC
office in Tunis; the départem en ts of Algiers and Oran depended on the
AJDC bureau in Casablanca and were represented by Elie Gozlan whose
headquarters were in Algiers. Only in 1957 did the AJDC create an
Algerian bureau.9 It provided subsidies and other forms of assistance to
communal institutions and initiatives. This included financial aid to Zi
onist youth movements, among them Bne-cAkiva and Gordonia. The
money was allocated to the movements’ educational summer programs
held in Algeria and France. Moreover, for some time a plot of land at
Bouzarea, situated eleven kilometers from Algiers, was utilized to assist
the influx of emigrants in transit before departure to Marseilles and
Israel. The AJDC purchased the terrain and turned it over to the Algiers
consistoire. This gesture enabled the community of Algiers to organize
summer programs for needy children.10
What role did the Zionists play in Algeria as French rule was drawing
to an end? A Zionist federation— Fédération Sioniste Algérienne, or FSA
— continued to function in Algiers, with branches in the other major
communities. These organizations were not challenged by the French
authorities. During the mid-1950s the FSA’s president was André Nar-
boni, a leading North African Zionist, active mostly in Algiers. Other key
Zionists were Elie Gozlan and Dr. Ange Zaffran of Algiers, and Charles
Table 24. cAliya from Algeria— October 1949-November 1955

Year Moroccans Algerians Total
1949 (Oct.-Dec.) 273 78 351
1950 745 339 1,084
1951 57 254 311
1952 21 65 86
1953 — 95 95
1954 — 323 323
1955 — 575 575
Sources. Henry Laufer of AJDC in Paris to Samuel L. Haber, Rapport sur l’Algérie, 6
décembre 1955, Arch.AJDC/Jerusalem, 49B /56.208; Yacakov fjasan to Shlomo Zalman Shra-
gai, Algiers, 6 January' 1958, CZA, S6/235, Hebrew.
Bouchara of Constantine. They raised funds for the JN F and other Zionist
enterprises, organized Zionist cultural programs, and helped promote
caliya.
The Mossad Le cAliya and the Jewish Agency played a predominant
role inside Algeria between 1947 and 1950. First and foremost, during
the clandestine caliya phase of 1947-48, they assisted in transporting to
Israel Moroccan and Tunisian Jews who entered Algerian territory as
transients. Local Zionist leaders such as Elie Gozlan, Eizer Sharqui, Paul
Sebaoun, David and Raphael Zaga, and M. Dadon participated in the
process. Then, in 1949-50, when caliya from North Africa was semilegal,
those Moroccan Jews left behind for medical reasons were placed at
special camps in Algeria. There they received treatment and were reha
bilitated for eventual emigration. Israeli operations from 1950 included
an caliya apparatus and a small cAliyat ha-No car bureau. The emissaries
entrusted with the caliya in the mid- and late 1950s had often risked their
lives. In 1956-58 the leading emissaries were Ya cakov Hasan (head of
the emigration agency and former envoy with Morocco s Cadima), Yo5 el
Arikha, Gabriel Azoulay, cOvadia Bijou (in charge of the screening team),
Raphael Ben-Guera, Moshe Gabay (head of the caliya office branch in
Oran), and Avraham Hovel (responsible for cAliyat ha-No car).n
Considering that caliya from Algeria included both Algerian and Mo
roccan elements, the data in table 24 show how few Algerians regarded
emigration as a serious option. With the exception of Jews from Constan
tine and the M czab, that is, the more traditional or economically disad
vantaged, departure of any significance was directed toward France. This
is explained by the strong attachment of Algeria’s Jews to French culture.
316 Algeria's Political and Social Struggle
From the time Ya cakov Hasan was entrusted with the caliya (Novem
ber 1956) until November 1957, 1,092 Jews left for Israel. The emigrants
in 1956-57 were mostly Moroccan Jews who lived in the départem en t of
Oran for many years, and Algerian Jews from the M czab.12
Turning to political and economic factors, at the end of World War II
prewar Algerian-Muslim/French tensions, obscured or rendered latent
in wartime, were to reappear. The world war had shaken the foundations
of the French colonial empire and opened the way for Algerians to appear
as a force in history. France had been beaten, and once liberated in
August 1944 was no longer in a moral or physical position to behave as a
major power. Indo-China and the Levant had rejected or were challeng
ing France's tutelage. Algeria, although considered part of Metropolitan
France, was as vulnerable as any Arab state to the siren calls of indepen
dence. 13
Muslim Algerians, after the war, found themselves between two worlds:
the modern Western world and the world of their historical Arabo-
Berber past. As David C. Gordon noted, the Muslims, alienated from
both, were now to take the initiative in coming to terms with both. The
Revolution was to be a struggle both for entry into the modern world and
for the revitalization of Islamic values. It was to be a rejection of both the
deadening hand of a corrupted past and of France. All colonial revolu
tions are characterized by this duality, but in the case of Algeria the
duality, or dichotomy, was especially marked— because of the length of
the conquest (since 1830), because of the unusual exposure of its elite to
French acculturation, and because it had lived so long on the edges of
the modern and Western economic and social world of the colons. O f all
the Muslim Arab states, Algeria was the most cut off from its past because
it had gone, even if superficially, so far into the twentieth-century world
of the West. And because the masses of its population had lived in the
traditional world in a state of abject poverty and illiteracy, Algeria had
the furthest to go toward bridging the gap between the past and the
present. The leaders of the Revolution were to call themselves crusaders
(m ujahidün— from jih â d or holy war) and to consider alcohol and tobacco
as symbols of betrayal. Simultaneously, they were to conceive of the
Revolution as progressivist— as a revolution to open to the Muslim
masses the modernity the colons had denied them. And, unlike the
French Protectorate system in Tunisia or Morocco, the very fact that the
European Algerian co lo n s presence was deeply rooted and pervasive
meant that Algeria would experience more than any Arab and Berber
people the brutalities and the disruptions of a long and cruel colonial
war. 14
The objective situation of the Muslims was clear enough. Algerian
nationalists had little need to falsify the data they gathered to reveal the
inequalities of the Algerian colon-dominated economic and political sys
tem. In 1954 only 11 percent of the active working population, the
colons, held 42 percent of all industrial jobs; 90 percent of industrial and
commercial activity was in European hands (only 19 percent of those
employed in the nationalized economic sector were Muslims); one Mus
lim child out of ten went to school— almost all Algerian Jewish and
European children did; 94 percent of the men and 98 percent of Muslim
women were illiterate. Only about 7,000 Muslims were in secondary and
685 in higher education.15
Whereas the Jews obtained French citizenship in 1870 and non-French
European settlers could do so by virtue of the French naturalization law
of 1889, it was only after World War II, by the Organic Statute of 1947,
that legal French citizenship was extended to Muslims. Yet the modes of
its application continued to keep them subordinate to the colon s, and
Muslim representation in the Algerian Assembly was limited to the
second college of this bicameral body.16
The month of May 1945 was a crucial turning point in French-Algerian
relations and is considered as a prelude to the 1954 Revolution. On 8
May, clashes between the police and 7 ,0 0 0 -8 ,0 0 0 demonstrators in Sétif
(départem ent of Constantine), calling for the release from prison of Mes-
sali Hadj, incited the police to open fire. The demonstrators dispersed
and then began to attack European settlers and pillage property. Fright
ened and indignant, the police and militia units of armed European
civilians, supported by the communists, struck back. For several days
the region of Constantine lived in a state of terror, jails were opened,
and prisoners shot; helpless civilians were massacred and homes razed
by aerial and naval bombardment. The number of Muslims killed re
mains a matter of dispute, with the most conservative estimate at 1,500
and the most extravagant at 80,000.17
The Muslims were now determined to break with France at any price
and were prepared to resort to violence to achieve their goal. This was
bound to spell trouble for the Jews, according to communal spokesmen,
because in order to maintain their colonial grip, the French would finally
have to appease the Muslims, even at the Jews’ expense. While Jews
were not victimized by the Sétif massacre, Joseph Fischer, the JN F
French delegate to North Africa, expressed pessimism and said that, as a
result of the immediate post-W orld War II developments, Muslims
would have access to administrative posts and schools; positions usually
held by Jews would be taken over by them as part of France s attempt to
cement the cracks in the colonial edifice.18
The efforts by the French to suppress overt expressions of nationalism
and arrest Muslim leaders drove Algerians to clandestine activity. The
frustrations of 8 May 1945 could not be contained, however. At 1:00 a . m .
on 1 November 1954, the Algerian Revolution against France com
menced with sporadic attacks upon French installations in different parts
of Algeria. The uprising, which caught the French unaware, was then
the work of comparatively few people who formed the Front for National
Liberation (FLN hereafter).19 They called for Algerian sovereignty. Among
its leaders were Muhammad Boudiaf, Hocine Ait Ahmad, Ahmad Ben-
Bella, and Lakhdar Ben Tobbal. Whereas Ben-Bella and other key FLN
leaders were arrested by the French in October 1956, the Revolution
that they began in November 1954 continued until the summer of 1962,
and ended with President de Gaulle’s willingness to grant Algeria inde
pendence.
The events in the wake of the Revolution, and the climate of terror
and insecurity which it had produced, led to the disintegration of several
small Jewish communities in the interior and the south, whose inhabi
tants migrated to the larger cities or to France. Until 1956-57 the state
of war was more intense in the interior than in Algiers, insofar as the
Jews were concerned. In the city of Algiers the post-1956 period inaugu
rated the imposition of curfew regulations from midnight until 5:00 a . m .
In several cities the curfew began at 9:00 p . m . Despite their fears, the
Jewish masses supported in a discreet manner the firm action adopted by
the French against the rebels.20
It was during this time that FLN-inspired terrorism and French coun
terterrorism also affected the lives of the Jews. Several unfortunate inci
dents occurred that included an attack on the Jews of Constantine (dis
cussed in this chapter), the burning of the synagogues of Orléanville and
Batna, and the harassment of rabbis and notables at Batna and else
where.21 These were partly attributed to the neutral stance of Jewish
leaders and intellectuals over the conflict and their reluctance to support
nationalist causes. Their position was quite understandable. As French

citizens they could not support or join the rebels, for this would surely
have been regarded by the French as treasonous. Therefore, French
intervention on their behalf, if and when Franco-Algerian negotiations
over Algeria were to take place, could be forfeited.
Responding to certain allegations by nationalists of Jewish noninvolve
ment in the struggle, the Comité Juif Algérien d’Etudes Sociales (CJAES)
— representing diverse currents of Jewish intellectual life in Algeria—
declared in November 1956 that Algerian Jewry was composed of differ
ent religious and cultural organizations that did not constitute a single,
unified political entity. The con sistoires, it was also said, were singularly
concerned with religious practices and the administration of religious
affairs. Thus it was erroneous to assume they could, or should, desire to
express the opinion of the general Jewish public. As for the Jews as a
whole, the CJAES argued that they were sufficiently mature politically,
holding conflicting views, to the extent that it was inconceivable to have
any given ideology imposed upon them. The Jews were a peace-loving
people, supporting a just solution to the Franco-Algerian crisis. Though
the CJAES supported “certain concessions to be made to the Muslims by
France,” it ruled out the possibility of Jews distancing themselves com
pletely from France:
During the dramatic hour through which we are now passing, when the breach
is steadily growing wider between the different elements of the population, the
Jews of this country— where they lived for over two thousand years, profoundly
grateful to France, to whom they owe so much— intend to remain faithful to the
commandments that bind them to the two other religious communities, Muslim
and Christian. Their firm hope is to continue to live in close friendship with
both.22
As the violence escalated throughout 1956, the most serious incidents

from the Jewish perspective occurred in Constantine during the month
of May. According to Samuel Lévy, a community leader, the Jews re
acted by organizing counterterrorism against the FLN and other nation
alist forces. This development, he observed, prompted the French to
conclude that throughout Algeria there existed a Jewish terrorist net
work, well armed and efficiently organized. Thus, General Noiret, the
security commander of the Constantine region, conducted a thorough
search of Jewish institutions to look for weapons.23 O f course, this de-
The City of Constantine in the 1950s (courtesy of the Organization of the Former
North African Underground Activists in Israel).
scription is partial and unclear; the events of May 1956 warrant a fuller
investigation.
There are, in fact, a few accounts and conflicting dates about the
events. The London Jewish Chronicle reported that on 12 or 13 May a
hand grenade was thrown into a Jewish-owned café in the old Jewish
quarter of Constantine, injuring thirteen people. Then, on 14 May, a
group of Muslims entered another Jewish café. Suspecting a second
attack, several of the Jewish clients pulled out revolvers and killed them
on the spot.24
Another account was published in La Dépêche de Constantine. On 13
May a grenade exploded in the afternoon at a small Jewish cafe on Rue
Sidi-Lakhdar, injuring twelve people. According to this version, the
attack was planned in advance. The authorities stepped in, cleared the
streets, and apprehended several suspects who were later taken to Mosque
Sidi al-Kettani for interrogations. At the same time, the French security
services claimed that the Muslims involved in the café bombing were not
residents of the city. They arrived there without weapons but were
subsequently supplied with grenades and revolvers by women affiliated
with the F L N .25
Algeria's Political and Social Struggle 321
Analyzing the events, Le Jo u rn a l d'Alger noted that organized Jewish

resistance played a prominent role in self-defense. In a version similar to
the one published in the Jew ish C h ron icle, it was concluded that the
Jews were well prepared, and trained, to defend the community. They
retaliated over the Sidi-Lakhdar café bombing by shooting Muslims they
suspected of having engaged in terrorism, or simply opened fire in order
to warn all Muslims that Jewish blood could never again be spilled.26
Whereas the Jew ish C hron icle reported that most Jews, like Europeans,
were armed, it nonetheless is true that self-defense units were organized
in Constantine, Oran, and Algiers. W ere these units formed locally as an
Algerian-Jewish initiative? Or was the resistance inspired by external
forces? The local press and Jewish newspapers in Europe, though in
formed about the events, could not possibly have known then that the
M isgeret was behind it.
Active in Algeria in self-defense endeavors only, the M isgeret inher
ited the role of defending the communities from Zionist youths who
carried out such action in the late 1940s but had since made caliya. The
M isgeret in Constantine consisted of about one hundred young members
whose units commanders underwent training in France or Israel. Pos
sessing French citizenship, they were also reservists in the French army
stationed in Algeria and thus experienced in the handling of weapons.
Several of them served in the local army’s headquarters as interrogators
of FLN sympathizers, given their knowledge of both French and spoken
Arabic. This is how they had access to information on the FLN that was
sometimes valuable to the M isgeret. The latter created weapons caches
and only its Algerian unit commanders could have access to the Israeli
emissaries. Between 1957 and 1962 three emissaries subordinate to Hav
ilio and Ronel in Paris succeeded each other in Constantine— “Ibrahim,”
whose name must remain anonymous, and who guided Algerian Jewish
youths once before as a DMO envoy; Yosef Regev; and Itzik Baer.27
Prior to the events of May 1956, the M isgeret dispatched guards on a
regular basis to the synagogues on Saturdays and holidays. They would
stand at street corners— two men in different places at a site— and
communicated through eye contact and hand signals. Each member of
the M isgeret involved in guard duties was armed with a revolver and
carried two munition clips.28
Based on a recent account of the events by a former Israeli emissary
who headed the M isgeret in Constantine, the attack on the Jews took
place on Saturday, 12 May. It was between 11:00 a . m . and noon that

most of the worshippers stepped out of the synagoguges to drink the
Shabbat a p é r itif at the Jewish-owned cafés on the Rue de France— the
city's commercial avenue strategically located between the Jewish and
Muslim residential districts. A grenade exploded at one of the cafés
owned by Ferdinand Sabbah but there were no casualties. As the terror
ists who carried out the act began to flee, several of the M isgeret mem
bers confronted them and opened fire. As many as thirty Muslims were
killed and many others wounded. The retaliatory measure caused fear
among the Muslim population and dismay in French political circles. It
appears that the FLN realized that the Jews intended to defend them
selves and, as a result, anti-Jewish actions became infrequent during the
ensuing months.29 Neither the Muslims nor the French authorities knew
about the M isgeret, although it was obvious to them that young Jews
were organized in some sort of self-defense apparatus.30 Demonstrating
caution, the M isgeret smuggled out of the country several of its activists
who might have been identified by Muslims during the confrontation.31
Given the tense atmosphere in the country, the M isgeret members
were more radical than their counterparts in Morocco and Tunisia. When
Havilio arrived in Constantine after the May 1956 events and spoke to
the Israeli envoy, he was told that the activists were edgy and eager to
place explosives in Muslim-owned shops. Havilio refused to authorize
such actions on the grounds that innocent Muslims could be hurt while
the Jewish community would surely be victimized by pogroms. More
over, the raison d’être of the M isgeret was to engage in self-defense
rather than vengeance. Instead, he suggested that the M isgeret prepare
a list of names and addresses of key FLN activists in the city, and then
send them a tract emphasizing that the Jews were not siding with the
French. However, should Jewish blood be shed, should there be po
groms, Jews would not sit idle. According to Havilio, a tract outlining
these points was sent out.32
The continued violent atmosphere provoked heated debates among
Jewish leaders about the communities’ future. Certain leaders referred
to political turmoil as the main challenge to Jewish existence in 1956-57.
Others were more concerned with the econom ic factor. The latter main
tained that an unofficial boycott of Jewish businesses was encouraged by
the FLN in different parts of the country, in solidarity against the French
as well as those suspected of collaborating with them. These leaders
further suggested that for a long time the wholesale cloth and linen
industry was a Jewish monopoly. By 1956-57 that was no longer the
case. If until the end of World War II the Jews played a powerful role as
trade intermediaries between Europeans and the Muslims, this was
altered as Muslims entered business positions. The same was true, they
said, of the small dealer and shopkeeper whose Muslim clientele was
dwindling.33
Fears based on economics were downplayed by Henry L. Levy, ap
pointed in February 1957 as the director of AJDC-Algeria. He thought
that, contrary to the grim assessments, the French poured enormous
sums of money into the country to bolster the economy to everyone’s
benefit. The presence of hundreds of thousands of French troops and
their families, and oil diggings in the Algerian Sahara, was helping Jewish
businessmen. In fact, there was an increase in the amount of money Jews
deposited in saving accounts.34
A similar position was described by Jacques Lazarus, the director of
the W JC North African central bureau headquartered in Algiers. In his
opinion, the Muslim boycott evident in 1956 had virtually ended by
1958. Not only did Jews cease to leave Algeria in large numbers, but
several families had returned from France. Lazarus attributed this phe
nomenon to increased security in the urban centers, Algeria’s apparent
economic stability, and the difficult challenges Algerian Jewish emigrants
encountered in France and Israel. Yet he was somewhat less optimistic
than Henry L. Levy when assessing long-range developments. He warned
that the sharp increase in the Muslim labor force— 60,000 to 80,000 new
workers per year— not to mention that as many as 300,000 Muslim
youths were of school age, would eventually push the Jews out of lucra
tive job s.35
Differences in forecasts notwithstanding, it seems that, as late as 1958,
nearly four years after the start of the Revolution, the Jews were rela
tively well represented in the private and public economic sectors. They
were far better off than Moroccan Jewry and probably in a better eco
nomic situation than their Tunisian coreligionists. O f the four main em
ployment categories in the urban economy,36 Algeria’s Jews were thus
represented:
Commerce and Small Businesses — 30 percent

Skilled and Unskilled Workers — 40 percent
Civil Service/Clerks — 20 percent

The Liberal Professions — 10 percent
The Jews and the Passing o f French Algeria ,

1958-1962
As David C. Gordon observed, the year 1958 was to be a watershed for

both France and the FLN. Militarily, the FLN lost heavily. The Morice
electrified “line,” built by the French to cut off the external FLN rebel
army in Tunisia from Algeria, proved effective. It was guarded by 40,000
troops and most attempts to lead men from Tunisia to Algeria failed. At
the end of the year General Maurice Challe, the most successful general
yet against the rebels, was appointed military commander. Through the
use of forceful and imaginative tactics he managed to erase numerous
open pockets of resistance. But internationally France lost ground. The
Algerian Provisional Government (GPRA) was established in Cairo with
Nasser s blessings on 19 September 1958 and began to receive some
diplomatic support.37
The year s most dramatic event, which encouraged both rebels and
colon s, was the overthrow of the Fourth Republic in France on May 13,
followed by de Gaulle's accession to power. Insisting that Algeria was
French, but conceding that thoroughgoing reforms were essential, the
new government declared that all Algerians were equal in all respects.
On 23 October the “peace of the brave” was offered to the rebels. But it
was much too late for “integration,” however enlightened. The FLN
refused any compromise even after de Gaulle referred to an “Algerian
personality” (authentic Algerian entity). To the rebels the “peace of the
brave” could only signify surrender, irrespective of the terms.38
Despite growing criticism of French Algerian policies internationally,
France's military grip over the country encouraged the Jews to dismiss
any notion of large-scale emigration. It therefore appears that for caliya
emissaries could mainly focus on the poor and traditional communities of
the M czab and the départem en t of Oran.
Active in the effort to organize caliya in communities such as Aflou,
Tiaret, Laghouat, Djelfa, Bou Sa cada, and Ghardai'a— Ya cakov Hasan
and Raphael Ben-Guera visited these areas in the name of the Moshavlm
Movement.39 Hasan represented the relgious m oshavim and Ben-Guera
their secular counterparts. According to Alex Doron, an Israeli journalist,

on 17 February 1958 Hasan and Ben-Guera hired a cab in Algiers to take
them to Aflou in western Algeria, where two groups of emigrants needed
to be briefed about the m oshavim . After reaching Aflou and making the
initial arrangements for the emigrants’ departure, they decided to pro
ceed to Tiaret, some thirty kilometers away, despite warnings by com
munity leaders at Aflou against entering what was regarded as an FLN
stronghold. On 18 February their burnt-out cab was found twelve kilo
meters from Aflou. No traces were found of the emissaries and the
driver.40
Jewish Agency officials in France provided a somewhat different ac
count. Baruch Duvdevani and David Assa5 el told Joseph Golan that the
two emissaries hired a cab in Algiers to take them to Tiaret (and not to
Aflou first, as Doron related). After a brief respite there, and despite the
local authorities’ requests that they return to Algiers, Hasan and Ben-
Guera proceeded to Aflou by cab (it is not clear in this account if the cab
that brought them from Algiers to Tiaret was also hired for Aflou). Before
leaving Tiaret they placed their Israeli passports with the police commis
sioner as a safety measure. The following day the cab was found burnt at
a distance of twelve kilometers from Aflou. The driver and his two
passengers had disappeared. It was quickly suspected that Hasan and
Ben-Guera were kidnapped by the FLN. After relating the story to
Golan, Duvdevani and Assa5 el asked him to use the W JC ’s connections
with FLN representatives in Europe and the United States to find out
what might have happened.41
The W JC was not alone in the investigation. The M ossad and the
Jewish Agency joined in. Two M ossad agents went to Algeria to inquire
if the emissaries were still alive and held in captivity. They concluded
that Hasan and Ben-Guera were abducted b e fo r e the cab was set on
fire.42 As for Golan’s efforts, upon learning that the emissaries were
abducted, he contacted Muhammad Yazld and cAbd al-Qàdir Chanderli,
the FLN representatives at the United Nations, and requested that they
be released at once. He then met with Chanderli who informed him that
the FLN had instructed the abductors to treat the two Israelis in a
friendly fashion.43
On 17 March Yazld and Chanderli reported to the W JC that the
Israelis would be released in exchange for two million dollars. The Israeli
government agreed to provide the money but the deal did not go through.44
On 22 March Golan wrote to Yazid that he was personally convinced that

the FLN had no reason to keep the Israelis as prisoners. Their mission in
Algeria was limited to Jewish affairs, without any connection to the
FLN ’s struggle against France. He thought that their release “would
constitute in the Jewish world an important gesture, which might in
crease world Jewish sympathy to the FLN ’s cause.”45
The FLN did not cooperate, and its representatives in the West
resorted to delaying tactics. On 2 June the first indication that Hasan and
Ben-Guera had been killed was provided by Pierre Gaillard, one of the
directors of the International Committee of the Red Cross in Geneva.
Gaillard claimed to have contacted a senior FLN representative who told
him of their death. Yet the Algerians insisted they were still alive.46
On 8 July the Israeli consul in Paris forwarded to Jerusalem the
contents of a report prepared by French intelligence services. It sug
gested that Hasan and Ben-Guera were kept in captivity somewhere in
the d ép artem en t of Oran, near the Moroccan border. On 14 April the
rebels were about to take the emissaries across the Atlas mountain chains
connecting the two countries. On the way they encountered a large
French military force and fighting ensued. In order to facilitate their
retreat, the rebels decided to shoot the Israelis.47
No bodies were recovered. Israel s Foreign Ministry was dismayed as
to why the French did not release their findings sooner than early July.
Presented with the data, Yazld and Chanderli persisted in denying that
the emissaries were dead. Only in August did they finally acknowledge
this.48
After Alex Doron published his lengthy article in Ma cariv on 8 August
1984, he received a telephone call from a man who introduced himself as
“Joseph,” claiming that he knew what had happened twenty-six years
earlier. Doron then met “Joseph” at his home somewhere in Israel.
“Joseph” never met Hasan or Ben-Guera personally. But during the
1950s he served as an interrogator of FLN prisoners and translated
written materials from Arabic into French at the French Deuxième
Bureau intelligence station in the départem en t of Oran. This is where he
obtained information about the mysterious disappearance of the emissar
ies. He asked that Doron not reveal his identity.
“Joseph” related that once Hasan and Ben-Guera’s abduction became
known, the two M ossad agents who came to Algeria had spoken to him
and asked very detailed and delicate questions. It seems that “Joseph”
spoke the truth, for he knew the name of one of the agents who was later
killed in the Sinai during the October 1973 war. One of Ben-Guera’s
sons, Yo5 av, also served in the Sinai during that war and met with the
former agent. The latter told him about his involvement in the search for
his father; his name matched the one given by “Joseph.” Be that as it
may, “Joseph” could not help the Israelis at the tim e.49
However, in 1959 an FLN officer, referred to by “Joseph” as al-cArabï,
surrendered to the French in Oran. Among other things, during his
interrogation in which “Joseph” participated, al-cArabï said that he and
his men ambushed and killed the Israelis when they traveled from Tiaret
to Aflou in a cab driven by an FLN activist. The FLN knew in advance
about the emissaries’ goals, for Hasan and Ben-Guera were apparently
indiscreet, having discussed their plans with the desk clerk at their hotel.
An FLN sympathizer, the latter informed his friends about them.
The ambush of the cab took place on 18 February 1958, at a deserted
road twelve kilometers outside Aflou. In order to confuse the French and
obliterate the evidence, another car was set on fire. The Israelis and a
French Jewish soldier, abducted on another occasion, were later taken to
a spot near the Moroccan border. It was their captors’ aim to leave
Algeria. On their way to Morocco the rebels risked the possibility of
running into French troops and thus, to make the passage smoother,
they decided to murder the three men by shooting them at close range.
Afterwards the bodies were burned.50 “Joseph” did not provide dates
covering the time period from the abduction to the killing.
Hasan’s and Ben-Guera’s disappearance did not prevent the Jewish
Agency from dispatching Shmuel Markuse to Algeria in order to conduct
business as usual. Markuse’s experience in Tunisia and his ability to
establish cordial relations with French officials, were essential necessities
for the caliy a.51
In 1959, but more so in 1960, Jewish leaders in Algeria were becoming
quite concerned about de Gaulle’s intentions. Outwardly neutral, they
quietly supported an A lgérie Française. This time their fears were not
completely unfounded. To the consternation of the French army, de
Gaulle moved increasingly toward coming to terms with the FLN ; and
after his speech of 16 September 1959, the independence of Algeria was
only a question of time. He offered the Algerians three choices: integra
tion, absolute independence, or independence in cooperation with France.
The French bias was obviously toward the third choice.52
Jewish leaders, among them Haim Cherqui, Jacques Lazarus, and

André Narboni of Algiers, who were also active members of the CJAES,
feared that once serious Franco-Algerian negotiations commenced, de
Gaulle might support granting Algerian Jewry the status of “communauté
minoritaire,” that is, a minority community, separated from both the
European and Muslim communities. Such a policy, they said, could
result in the abrogation of the Crémieux D ecree.53
These leaders based their contention on an article appearing in D é
m ocratie 60, written by Guy Mollet, a former French premier in the
Fourth Republic. Regarded as an ally of the Jews and Israel, Mollet
wrote that de Gaulle informed him of his intentions to abrogate the
Crémieux Decree. Algerian Jewish leaders also spoke about the skepti
cism expressed by Mendès-France, who thought that policies formulated
by the Elysée palace concerning Algerian Jewry would not be favorable.
This posed a dilemma, for most Algerian Jews were eager to remain
French. As they believed that de Gaulle might alter their political status
during negotiations with the FLN, Jewish leaders had hoped that influ
ential French Jews and international Jewish organizations would support
them in the fight for the preservation of their rights.54
The Jews of Algeria were not the only elements evincing skepticism.
The dissatisfaction with de Gaulle emerged in French military circles.
On 15 January 1960, the Algerian French general Jacques Massau, well
known for crushing FLN rebellions, expressed in an interview his un
equivocal opposition to de Gaulle’s new outlook over Algerian affairs.
Nine days later, on 24 January, an insurrection was stirred up in Algeria
by the pro-fascist French National Front led by Joseph Ortiz and sup
ported by the army. It lasted until 1 February and intended to lead to de
Gaulle’s removal from power. De Gaulle managed to counter Ortiz’s plot
and, in a nationally televised speech on 29 January which had the backing
of the great majority of the people in Metropolitan France, he reaffirmed
his policy of self-determination as the best alternative available.55
Of course, the support de Gaulle enjoyed in France was hardly matched
among Algeria’s European colons. A second insurrection aimed at over
throwing de Gaulle was organized within the army between 22 and 25
April 1960. It was led by Generals Maurice Challe, Raoul Salan, Edmond
Jouhaud, and Marie-André Zeller. This effort also failed. Needless to say,
though the Jews in 1960 hoped for a continued French presence, they
were nevertheless unhappy with the French National Front’s emblem of
the Celtic cross that was ominously reminiscent of the Nazi swastika. The
CJAES monthly, In form ation Ju iv e , wrote about the 24 January 1960
insurrection:
We must say here that for the Jews the commandment “Remember” should be
imperative. We cannot accept the flaunting, under the pretext of patriotism, of
emblems which evoke for us a past whose meaning we understand all too well.
. . . Remember that when the French Republic and its principles of liberty are
threatened, the security of the Jews is threatened too. History has demonstrated
that. It is for the Republic and for democracy and also— faithful to our law— for
justice and brotherhood that we shall always fight. This we shall do because we
are French, and no disclaimer, no omission can erase more than a century of
history and of loyalty.56
By 1960, however, the CJAES and other Jewish communal organiza

tions could no longer get away with such statements without a response.
The Europeans insisted that they take part in the preservation of French
Algeria; the Muslims pressured them to struggle for a Muslim Algeria.
At the beginning of 1960 the FLN published an “appeal to the Jews of
Algeria” which stressed:
You are an integral part of the Algerian people; you are not asked to choose
between France and Algeria, but to become effective citizens of your true
country. Either you choose to function fully in this country where the future will
inaugurate freedom and democratic principles to be enjoyed by all the nation s
children; or else you accept to live under the reign of contempt and to be content
with a citizenship granted by your oppressors within a context which is in
contradiction even with the most elementary human rights. Such are the terms
of the choice. The so-called economic option, the gamble on a pretentious
prosperous future is no longer the case: the ideal for which numerous Algerian
patriots have died is in no way linked with material facilities.57
For the Jews, overwhelmingly French citizens, such a statement posed a

serious problem. Nonetheless, the CJAES reaffirmed its traditional posi
tion in a declaration which was distributed by the French press agency
on 21 February 1960, and published by almost all the Algerian dailies
and a few in France:
The Comité Juif Algérien d’Etudes Sociales . . . points out again that the Jewish
community of Algeria is not a political, judicial, or even geographic entity, and
that there exists no Jewish party or political organization entitled to speak in the
name of all the Jews of Algeria. The Jewish community is composed of French
citizens who, at the proper time, will in common with other French citizens use
the rights inherent in that status. Nothing and no one can call into question the
obviousness of this factual and legal situation. In stressing anew that the Jews of
Algeria, faithful to their moral and spiritual traditions and to their passionate love
for peace, have always supported respect and justice for the most complete
equality among the various elements of this country, the Comité thinks that the
Jewish community would “live in humiliation” if it renounced a citizenship for
the preservation of which it always fought, to which it remains attached with a
faithfulness that deserves respect, and which inspired it with its dignity and
honor.58
This was not what the FLN wanted to hear at that crucial juncture of
the civil war. On 24 July 1960, an FLN representative in Geneva issued
a warning to Algerian Jewish leaders: either take an active part in the
struggle or risk the deterioration of Muslim-Jewish coexistence.59 Fur
ther, at the end of 1960 the Grande Synagogue of Algiers was sacked by
supporters of the FLN. The situation did not improve in 1961. In Janu
ary, Armand Kaplan of the W JC-France in Paris met with Benjamin
Heler who still served as FCIA chairman. The meeting was attended by
several influential French-Jewish leaders, such as Dr. Vital Modiano,
Léon Meiss, Jacques Orfus, Solomon Schweizer, and André Dreyfuss.
The issue of Algerian Jewry’s French nationality surfaced once again as a
source of concern, for no one doubted that Franco-Algerian negotiations
were inevitable. The participants of the meeting were urged to inform
the Elysée and Premier Debré about the need to make the Crémieux
Decree an essential component of the negotiations. Heler said that, just
as de Gaulle was instrumental in re-enacting the Crémieux Decree in
1943, after Vichy abrogated it in 1940, it was inconceivable now, during
his tenure as president of the Fifth Republic, to adopt a different stance
and jeopardize Algerian Jewish rights.60
Heler estimated that of the 140,000 Jews in Algeria, only 70,000 would
stay should the passing of French Algeria become a reality. He told
French-Jewish leaders that André Narboni, the head of the Algerian
Zionist Union, and the Jewish Agency, laid down a contingency plan for
large-scale evacuation to Israel— if and when the situation should war
rant it. He also warned these leaders that a massive exodus of Jews to
France was not unlikely, a development leading to social problems for
the French-Jewish communities. They had to be prepared for such an
eventuality.61
Indeed, in 1961 many Jews were grappling with the issue of whether
or not they ought to remain in Algeria. Yet as Gaston Saffar, president of
the Algiers consistoire explained, salaried employees could leave without
any commitments. They were French citizens and, once in France,
would benefit from government assistance. On the other hand, approxi
mately one-half of Algiers’s real estate assets were owned by Jews— an
exaggeration no doubt— and the owners could neither liquidate these
assets quickly nor make any profit by selling. Therefore, they were
unable to leave immediately.62
Similar fears were echoed by other leaders in 1961. Georges Fahl,
treasurer of the consistoire in Constantine, thought that once Algerian
independence was obtained, nothing could stop the Muslims from ha
rassing Jewish women, girls, and the elderly; and there would be “no
valid economic prospects for us here.** Everything depended on the
results of the Franco-Algerian negotiations and, more importantly, on
how long it would take for the parties to reach an agreement.63
These fears, bordering at times on panic, resulted in the development
of political alignments among the Jews. Until 1961 they either remained
politically neutral or had supported liberal groups among both Muslims
and Europeans. Now they were confronted with an immediate problem
which seemed to promise more harsh consequences for them than for
the European Christians. They feared that the revenge of the formerly
subject Muslim populace would be directed against them, not only as
Europeans but also as Jews and as friends of Israel. Hence many young
Jews slipped bit by bit into the camp of the European u ltras— especially
that of the Organisation de l’Armée Secrète (OAS), an organization made
up of desperate European civilians intent on saving Fren ch Algeria and
of bitter army officers bent on overthrowing de Gaulle at any price, with
Algeria as a means rather than an end. The OAS was never a united
organization, either in fundamental tendency or in leadership. It had no
clear ideology beyond a vague, proto-fascist antirepublicanism.64 But in
1961 it emerged as a popular force among the non-Muslim population,
opposing both the FLN and de Gaulle. The numerous young Jews who
became pro-OAS and sympathized with its leader, General Raoul Salan,
were fully aware that one of the most important elements in the OAS
was the Jeu n e Nation group, influential among the students and young
Europeans, and ardently anti-Semitic. However, these Jews remarked
that they and the OAS had a common goal: the preservation of French
Algeria. As one pro-OAS Jewish activist noted: “Jeu n e Nation may have
wanted to impose its will on the entire OAS, but it has been brought into
line.”65 “Certainly Jeu n e Nation and other anti-Semites represent a prob
lem. But we have a bigger battle to wage which must come first. We will
settle with anti-Semites later,” said another.66
To prevent de Gaulle from “giving Algeria away” during negotiations,
the preliminary meetings of which were held at Melun and Evian (Swit
zerland) in 1960-61, the OAS reign of armed terror began in the spring
of 1961. It was intensified and extended with catastrophic consequences
for Algerian Jews. As in other parts of North Africa, the Jewish residential
districts often straddled the Muslim and European districts, and there
were many Jewish enclaves in the Arab quarters and the reverse. Attacks
by OAS terrorists evoked prompt Muslim reprisals, and it was naturally
the non-Muslims of the “frontier” areas, the residents of the Jewish
districts, who sustained the first and frequently the only shock. This
resulted in a mutual antagonism between Muslim and Jewish youths. On
the second day of Rosh ha-Shana 1961, in reprisal for the assassination by
some Muslims of a Jew in a Jewish district of Oran, Jewish youths
launched a counterattack which quickly developed into a massacre of
every Muslim within revolver range. W ere these acts committed by pro-
OAS Jewish elements? Was this a repeat performance by the M isgeret’s
youths? We have no answers.67
After these incidents, the FLN issued several directives warning the
Muslim population against letting itself be diverted into a war against the
Jews. All the evidence indicates that the FLN sought to prevent the
development of a fatal chain of pogroms and counterpogroms. It also
sought to influence international public opinion, and especially American
public opinion, in this direction. Unfortunately, the FLN instructions in
this respect, as in others, were not always followed by the impulsive
rebels and masses who supported the struggle. Particularly in Constan
tine in 1961, when the war between the OAS and FLN reached its
height, the large Jewish quarter was subjected to repeated Muslim at
tacks. The complete insecurity of the Jews of Constantine caused large-
scale departures, amounting almost to an evacuation, even before the
exodus of the Jews from other regions began. The OAS exploited the
distress of the Jews of Constantine and even appealed for the aid of
Israeli army officers. The OAS terror had put small Jewish merchants in
the city out of business, while substantial medium-sized Jewish-owned
enterprises collapsed under the impact of the continual bombing and the
enormous “taxes” and “retributions” exacted by the OAS terrorists.68
Frightened about the prospect of Constantine Jewry being slaugh
tered, Lazarus alerted the W JC in Europe and warned that, unless this
wave of violence were halted, Algerian Jewish organizations would pub
lish a communiqué inciting Jews to evacuate Algeria. This was a veiled
threat directed at French-Jewish leaders. If an evacuation were to take
place, their communities and government would be saddled with the
responsibility of absorbing tens of thousands of Jewish refugees. Re
sponding to the threat, Easterman, Armand Kaplan, and Dr. Nahum
Goldmann contacted the FLN-dominated provisional government (GPRA)
agents in New York and Tunis, for them to convey to the rebels the
message to cease all forms of violence against Jews. Moreover, the W JC
requested Habib Bourguiba, Jr., to discuss this matter with Muhammad
Yazld who, in 1961, served as the GPRA s minister of information.69 It
appears that outside Jewish intervention helped ease the situation.
The relentless terror and senseless killings organized by the ultras,
and the facts that most of the army generals were beginning to support
de Gaulle, and that Algerian independence was in sight— were to dimin
ish the OAS’s influence. At the beginning of 1962 it became evident that
the apogee of the OAS was past. From that time on European settlers
and the Jews were more hesitant to demonstrate solidarity with this
organization. They feared being singled out by the legitimate French
authorities. Perhaps the best indication of the growing trend toward
caution among the non-Muslim population was the fact that, whatever
may have been their sympathies, people were leaving for France, despite
OAS threats against any who were going. This was done as unobtrusively
as possible. A dentist would book appointments for his patients as if he
intended to treat them as usual, but not show up. A woman would hang
out her washing as a sign of presence, but the washing was never taken
in. A businessman would make a brave show of keeping his business
open, but his family was already packed off quietly to France.70
After nearly two years of periodic contacts and negotiations, a cease
fire and peace agreement were concluded between the French and the
FLN at Evian on 19 March 1962. The agreements were never actually
signed by either party because the French refused to give formal recog
nition to the FLN . The French did not hand over control of the country
directly to the FLN but to a mixed French-Algerian “provisional execu
tive” that was to supervise a referendum for independence on 1 July

1962, and run the country until elections for a National Assembly could
be held. Yet the FLN was to emerge as the dominant force leading
Algeria from the second half of 1962. The OAS could no longer hope to
intimidate the French government. Its terror tactics, even an attempt to
assassinate de Gaulle, failed to sway the French or to provoke the FLN
into retaliation.71 Algeria’s independence was proclaimed on 3 July 1962.
Jewish Life in Independent Algeria, 1962-1970
The Evian agreement and the transition from French to Muslim rule
hastened the departure of the Jews. Although the Muslims agreed that
the Jews could, after all, preserve their French citizenship rights— a
breakthrough that was achieved under pressure of French Jewry’s AIU
and the W JC — the majority of the Jews, like the European settlers, did
not wish to remain in Algeria. By the fall of 1962 only an eighth of the
800,000 to one million Europeans remained in Algeria. Of the 140,000
Jews, some 10,000 remained by the summer of 1962.72
It is true that France was the main country of emigration for Algerian
Jewry. Only 10,000 of them emigrated to Israel between 1948 and the
early 1960s. While there were very few successes in attracting caliy a,
several rescue operations did take place in 1962, one of which was
organized in the summer of 1962. As the caliya emissaries were about to
leave Algerian soil following the recent developments, a cable arrived at
the caliya office in Algiers from the Jewish Agency. It instructed them to
remain there for the time being because, based on reliable information,
FLN rebels in the south intended to harm the Jews of the Saharan
community of Ghardai'a.73
On 12 June 1962, Duvdevani requested Ben-Tsiyon Cohen, one of the
emissaries in Algiers, to fly to Ghardaïa and warn that community about
the potential dangers. Duvdevani then contacted the French authorities
in the south to inform them about Cohen’s arrival. Upon his arrival
Cohen met with Ya cakov Blocca, Ghardaïa’s community president. Blocca
then convened an emergency meeting of the community council mem
bers in which Cohen prodded them to permit the Jewish Agency to
Algeria’s Political and Social Struggle 335
evacuate the Jews before it was too late. The community leadership gave
its approval.74
Already by mid-June Cohen began to register the families at the local
talm üd tôrah building. O f the 3,000 Jews in Ghardaia, 2,700 agreed to
leave immediately. Meanwhile, the Jewish Agency in Europe received
from Cohen precise data on the size of the emigration and the number of
planes needed for the operation. The Grande Arenas camp in Marseilles
was prepared to accommodate the transients. However, the FLN found
out about the operation and was determined to prevent the departures.75
Not wanting to risk lives, especially in light of what happened to
Hasan and Ben-Guera three years earlier, Cohen telephoned the French
governor who himself was about to leave Algeria. The latter sent a
military vehicle with several armed paratroopers to guard Cohen and
accompany him to the local military base for his own protection. Toward
the end of June the French planes chartered by the Jewish Agency
reached Ghardaia s military airport. The emigrants could now take the
twelve-kilometer ride to the airport on buses, guarded by military jeeps
and a helicopter. Algeria was a sovereign nation when the evacuation
process ended successfully in July 1962.76
After the declaration of independence the consistoires in Algiers,
Oran, and Constantine continued to function. The community leaders of
the post-independence period were not drawn from the ranks of those
who had been active in the FLN. They were those who kept their French
citizenship and maintained contact with the French consular authorities.
Contrary to what had been feared, no “parachutist” pro-FLN leadership
imposed itself on the Jewish community. There was no longer any signif
icant pressure on the Jewish leadership to “coordinate” itself politically,
and no demonstrations or declarations of pro-government orthodoxy were
required. When the communities pledged their loyalty in December
1962, their statement made no reference to the ideology of the Algerian
Revolution.77
Jewish cultural activity, such as had existed in the pre-independence
era, was practically nonexistent. When a visitor from France remarked to
some of the community leaders that it would be impossible to discuss
French-Jewish literature in their clubs because it was too closely linked
to Zionism and Israel, he was told: “Oh well, we shall talk about Maimon-
ides.” But in fact there was not much discussion of him either; the
communities were content to arrange for a bare minimum of religious

life, whether in respect to the conduct of services, the practice of circum
cision, or ritual slaughter. It was necessary to bring shôhatïm from Mo
rocco in order to preserve kash rü t.78
Almost all the Torah scrolls were in France by the end of 1962. Most
synagogues were closed, and where a Jewish community no longer ex
isted, they constituted heirless property, with an unclear legal status.
Some had been put to other use. Thus one in Constantine had become
an FLN headquarters and at Miliana the synagogue was made into a
municipal gymnasium. Unlike the situation in France, where synagogues
— like Catholic and Protestant churches— were regarded as “public
monuments’" and hence state property, the Algerian synagogues were
the property of the communities.79
Delving into specific accounts and testimonies we are able to analyze
conditions by going beyond general descriptions.
On 2 July 1962, several hours before Algeria became independent,
Inge Gottfarb, an AJDC delegate from Europe, arrived in Algiers for a
fact-finding mission. Although Jewish leaders were available to talk to,
they were few in comparison to previous years, because many had left
for France. The numerous and varied Jewish organizations were either
ineffective or existed only on paper. Their presidents, secretaries, and
treasurers had practically all emigrated. The need to take care of Jews
who remained as well as of those leaving became an urgent task. Whole
families fled their homes while others were too poor or too old to fend
for themselves, especially at a time when Algeria was in turmoil,
undergoing an abrupt transformation from a colonial to an independent
entity. According to Gottfarb,80 in July 1962, needy persons in Algiers
among the Europeans and the Jews usually called on the following agen
cies and individuals:
The Bureau dA ction Sociale d e la Ville d A lg er which provided ten to

twenty new francs per person on a monthly basis as well as fifteen new
francs to Jews toward the kosher tax, paid to the city for the purchase
of kosher meat. These monies were subsequently refunded to the
Jewish community in the form of relief to the needy, partly as a
contribution for cultural programs. Moreover, food parcels were dis
tributed to needy recipients on a monthly basis long before July 1962;
The Pension Agency where numerous needy recipients obtained gov

ernment pensions because they were handicapped, blind, or aged.
These payments varied from sixty to two hundred new francs quar
terly. However, in 1962 there were pensioners who were deprived of
this form of support, for the central offices in Algiers had been blown
up by the OAS and their records were destroyed;
L ocal Jew ish O rganizations which assisted the indigent with special
needs such as the birth of children, dowries, illness, or death. The
most important was the Société de la Bienfaisance that distributed
m atzoth for Passover, sent youths to summer camps, provided cloth
ing for these youths, and paid their medical costs. The Bikkur Holim
was another agency of some value. Its representatives visited the sick
and the aged at local hospitals and at their homes;
Private B en efactors an d H elp by Relatives became vital due to the

insufficient relief grants and pensions. Thus needy Jews frequently
turned to private benefactors who helped them on a regular basis.
Yet, as by the second half of 1962 the most affluent “patrons” left
Algeria, this alternative source of income was drying up. The same
could be said of relatives, since many left for France and Israel, and
were unable to continue their assistance owing to decreased income
or loss of work, business, or due to resettlement problems.
There were other humiliating alternatives for the needy in Algiers.

Many relief clients were by force or by choice reduced to beggary after
their relatives left the country. They appeared in the synagogues and the
cemetery asking for help from the more fortunate. Of course, several
relief clients had some income from work, particularly elderly women
who served as maids and cleaning women, earning between forty and
150 new francs per month. Their employers, always Europeans but
mostly Jewish, were leaving or had left Algeria and this source of income
was disappearing, too.81
Early in July 1962, Gottfarb visited a center where homeless and
displaced persons could be found. They were mostly evacuees from the
C asba residential district of Algiers, forced to leave during the ongoing
violence of French Algeria’s final months. Situated at Rue Bretonnet, the
center was once an army clothing factory taken over in May 1962 from its
European owner. The building was not physically suitable. It had steep
stairs leading to the first and second floors where people were now
housed. Gottfarb’s description of their lamentable conditions is rather
shocking:
When I saw the center, I felt it was a living illustration to [Maksim] Gorky’s
“Night Asylum” and [Charles] Dickens’ “Workhouse”— all human wrecks and
derelicts, alcoholics, beggars, invalids, blind, paralyzed . . . and mental and
cardiac cases, and elderly people living under the most degrading conditions:
without water, ankle-deep in filth and garbage with accompanying smells.82
Irrespective of the wretched conditions of the needy, Muslim-Jewish

relations were not particularly bad. Maître I. Chouraqui, president of
the consistoire in Oran, observed in November 1962 that the Jews were
treated respectfully, in sharp contrast to the situation in 1961 and early
1962. He claimed that if, during the 1950s, Constantine Jewry emerged
as the most vulnerable to violence, their coreligionists in Oran had
suffered the most in 1961 and even after the cease-fire accord of 19
March 1962. Chouraqui added that while there were no overt discrimi
natory policies directed against Oran’s Jews since independence, the
latter were more afraid than the Europeans or, for that matter, Muslims
who were targeted by the FLN for collaborating with the French. The
fears stemmed from the continuous infiltration by Muslims into their
residential quarter or the European districts. Jews began to desert the
European districts of Oran and Algiers as a result of this infiltration and
owing to the difficulties encountered in finding food and medical sup
plies.83
Referring specifically to Oran, Chouraqui said that from mid-1962
thousands of Jews headed to airports and seaports to seek passage to
France. They left with little luggage and often abandoned their valuables.
Whereas in 1961 as many as 22,000 Jews lived in Oran, during the
summer of 1962 only 1,000-1,500 remained.84 Most distressed by this
development, the Algerian authorities, apparently unable to cope with
the political situation, launched incessant appeals to the Jews and Euro
peans, asking them to remain. Chouraqui concluded confidently that “It
should be stressed . . . that even throughout this period of disorder and
looting, there was no indication whatsoever of a discriminatory attitude
toward the Jews, and our relations with the authorities were always
correct.”85
The decline in Jewish population and the extent of assistance to the

needy is best illustrated in the data presented by Dr. Franco Lévi,
director of AJDC-Algeria. An Italian national, Lévi followed Jewish de
mographic changes very closely between 1962 and 1964. Table 25 covers
the periods of November 1962 and January 1963.
From these limited data it is evident that by January 1963 not less
than 5,000 Jews still lived in Algeria. Table 25 does not actually indicate
if the locations for which no data (ND) is inserted means that the com
munities ceased to exist. It is feasible that no information was available.
Some communities did exist, among them Djelfa, Touggourt, and Lagh-
ouat. Moreover, the statistics for November 1962 did not include Algiers
and its neighboring towns and villages, which explains why the data for
January 1963 show that considerably more Jews still remained in Algiers,
as compared with November 1962. It does seem, however, that numer
ous small communities ceased to exist, as no information is available in
the diverse sources we consulted regarding Ghardaïa, Aïn-Beida, and
Suq al-Akhras.
From 1962-63 onward different organizations went to work on behalf
of Algerian Jewry. Among these was the Comité d’Action Sociale Israélite
d'Alger (CASI), established in 1962. The CASI became the welfare de
partment in Algiers, affiliated with the consistoire. Supplementing this
effort were the French consulates across the country. Three major en
deavors were carried out by CASI and the French consulate in Algiers:
cash relief distribution to needy families; assistance to the homeless,
lodged at the center on Rue Bretonnet and the Maimonides religious
school; meals distribution and maintenance at this school which also
sheltered transients coming from the interior and the hinterland.86
Those Jews in the interior communities who stayed behind a while
longer made every conceivable effort to conduct Jewish religious affairs
and rituals. When William Shapiro of the AJDC-Paris office visited the
interior in February 1964 he found several synagogues open. Such was
the case in Laghouat, where the synagogue was situated in a building
owned by community members. A minyan was occasionally gathered and
regular religious services were held. Kosher meat was available, pur
chased in Algiers. A small amount of assistance was rendered by the local
French consulate and consequently there was no need for the AJDC to
subsidize this community. In Djelfa, Shapiro learned that the community
owned a building containing a synagogue and two apartments. A very
Table 25. The Jewish Population of Algeria, November 1962 and January 1963
A ssisted Indigents
(In clu d ed in P opulation
Population D ata)
Nov. 1962 Ja n . 1963 Nov. 1962 Ja n . 1963

Location (A pprox.) (A pprox.) (P recise) (P recise)
Algiers ND 2 ,0 0 0 -3 ,0 0 0 ND 400
Constantine 500 2 0 0 -2 5 0 ND 15
Bone 350 2 0 0 -2 5 0 ND 1 2 -1 3
Sétif 140 1 00-120 ND ND
Philipville 20 1 2 -1 5 ND ND
Nemours 50 ND ND ND
Batna 50 20 ND ND
Beni-Saf 50 ND ND ND
Biskra ND 10 ND ND
Bougie (2 -3 families) ND 8 -1 0 ND ND
Tizi-Ouzou ND 20 ND ND
Ghardaia ND ND ND ND
Touggourt ND ND ND ND
Laghouat ND 40 ND ND
Blida ND 2 0 -3 0 ND ND
Rélizane 35 ND ND ND
Bou Sacada ND 9 ND 8
Orléan ville ND 9 ND ND
Tlemcen 350 200 70 50
Oran 1,200 1,200 350 170
Mostaganem 100 70 ND 1 2 -1 5
Aïn Tamouchent 70 6 0 -7 0 25 ND
Sidi-Bel-Abbès 200 50 12 ND
Tiaret 25 ND ND ND
Mascara 100 ND ND ND
La Moricière 15 ND ND ND
Saida 100 ND ND ND
T otal 3,355 4 ,2 2 8 -5 ,3 7 3 457 6 6 7 -6 7 1
Source fo r November 1962: Franco Lévi à Herbert Katzki, 23 novembre 1962, Arch. AJDC/Jerusalem, 50A /56.200.
Source fo r January 1963: Confidential Memorandum on Dr. Franco Lévi’s Visit to Algeria, 2 8 -3 1 January 1963, Arch. AJD C/
Jerusalem, 50A /56.200.
large synagogue belonging to the now defunct Ghardaïa community was

taken over by the local authorities. The seats were removed and installed
in a movie theatre.87
Everyone Shapiro spoke with indicated that the departure of the
Europeans and the Jews had dealt a serious blow to the economy of the
interior and the south. Business declined sharply and unemployment was
on the rise. Both Muslim and Jewish merchants complained that goods
of all kinds were in short supply less than two years since the proclama
tion of independence. One individual in Djelfa told Shapiro that these
disadvantages were to some degree compensated by the fact that Jewish
merchants who did remain in the south and the interior had very little
economic competition. On the other hand, the conditions of life there,
psychologically, were hardly encouraging. The Jews Shapiro had met
declared they were isolated and detached. The departure of their French
compatriots, friends, and relatives affected their morale. They stated
nonetheless that their relations with the Muslims were quite friendly,
the latter having encouraged them to stay and contribute to economic
growth.88
At the end of July 1964 only 4,000 Jews remained. O f this figure,
approximately 10 percent were needy persons, most of whom lived in
Algiers and Oran. All needy recipients received assistance from the
AJDC and awaited aid from the French consular officials. The assistance
rendered by the AJDC in Algiers was largely accomplished through the
CASI, which continued to oversee all Jewish welfare organizations in the
city.89
Assisting the emigration to France was the United HIAS Service.
Joseph G. Hazan, its Algeria delegate, remarked that the authorities
dealt realistically with Jewish emigration. Most helpful in this process
were the senior administrative heads. Hazan’s staff encountered most of
the problems only with several subordinate clerks at the lower echelons
of the Ministry of the Interior. Excellent relations also developed
between the United HIAS and the French consuls, particularly with
M. Herdy, the consul in Algiers, who placed his consular car at Hazan’s
disposal to evacuate Jewish cult objects.90
One of the reasons for continued emigration after 1964 was the insti
tutionalization of a socialist economy under Ahmad Ben-Bella’s regime
and, after 1965, under Houari Boumedienne, his successor as president
of the republic. Socialism became the dominant philosophy, largely de-
fined as au togestion— or self-management— by workers of the agricul

tural and industrial sectors. The FLN encouraged this policy by imple
menting decrees making it the basis of the economy. The vacant land and
the remaining French land seized later, were to be managed by the
people, with government support. What actually developed until 1965
was similar to the Yugoslavian experiment. The government aided the
self-management farmers and workers to cope with marketing and create
management committees. One-third of the profits of the harvest and of
the industrial sector was paid to the workers as premiums while two-
thirds were kept by the state to invest in industrialization.91
How did this policy affect the Jews? The AJDC representative ob
served that the Jews and the 6 0 ,000-70,000 Europeans were thoroughly
unhappy with socialism. But he pointed out that their attitude was shared
by segments of the Muslim population. Wholesale merchants and opera
tors of food import enterprises among the Muslims were equally discon
tented. The Muslim masses approved of state economic policies but they
did not really understand the socialist ideology behind autogestion. It
was assumed in the Jewish communities that, with the last vestiges of a
liberal economy in Algeria withering away, there was no alternative
except to depart.92
Small business enterprises continued to survive, however. According
to Samuel Lévis of the AJDC, 3,000 Jews lived in Algeria of 1966. O f this
figure, 1,500 resided in Algiers, 1,000 in Oran, and five hundred in
Constantine and the south. Some of them were merchants and small
businessmen, others were members of the free professions— physicians,
pharmacists, lawyers. On the other hand, many were aged and depen
dent on the AJDC, or well-to-do pensioners, seeking to live the rest of
their lives in Algeria. In the case of small businessmen, the majority of
them were family heads in Algiers and Oran who sent their wives and
children to France, attempting in the meantime to liquidate their assets.
Another Jewish element, considered to be part of the remaining Euro
pean population, came from France. They worked in Algeria on behalf of
their government.93
The year 1967 proved to be less challenging for Algeria's 2 ,000-2,500
Jews than for their Tunisian counterparts. The June 1967 Middle East
war did not seem to traumatize them despite Algeria's pronounced role
in the crisis and the violence of some of the official pronouncements. No
anti-Jewish riots took place in the country, mainly because the Jewish
quarters of Oran and Algiers no longer existed and the Jews were scat
tered among the general population. Another plausible explanation is
that the French government may have told Houari Boumedienne’s gov
ernment that it did not differentiate between Frenchmen and would not
stand for any injury to Jewish Frenchmen in Algeria.94 The few acts of
harassment included insults, the mistreatment of Chief Rabbi Simon Zini
of Oran, and the expulsion by the authorities of six Jews. Moroccan Jews
living in Algeria felt somewhat insecure as they were not French citizens
like the Algerian Jews and could not count on France to protect them.95
Visiting Algeria in December 1967, Samuel Lévis found a partially
structured communal apparatus in Algiers and Oran. The consistoire of
Algiers faced major financial difficulties, with its leaders pleading before
the central consistoire of Paris for assistance. It was suggested by one
leader that it would be necessary to again reduce the administrative
expenses. Only one rabbi, it was said, should be employed by the
community in Algiers. After the consistoire of Oran organized a fund-
raising campaign to cope with expenses, the leaders in Algiers were
encouraged to follow this example.96
In March 1970 there were fewer than 1,000 Jews in the country— 350
in Oran, 300 in Algiers, and several dozens each in Constantine, Bone,
Blida, Tlemcen, and Mostaganem. They were largely elderly people.
The only remaining talm üd tô ra h , in Oran, was frequented by several
youths and administered by the con sistoire. Other communities had no
rabbis, religious schools, or ritual slaughterers. It was Rabbi Simon Zini
of Oran who, upon request of the different communities, traveled to
perform circumcision and other religious duties.97 For all intents and
purposes, organized Jewish life in Algeria ended during the 1970s.
Conclusions
This work has highlighted the major developments in the Maghribi

Jewish communities of this century. These conclusions may suggest some
directions for future research.
1. There can be no doubt that modern and secular education and the
influence of European precolonial and colonial encroachment constituted
major reformist agents in these communities. Though felt stronger in
Algeria and Tunisia through the state, Protectorate, and other European
schools to a greater extent than in Morocco, where the AIU emerged as
the prime force, the three Jewish communities benefited from the type
of Euro/French education that influenced their milieu from the latter half
of the nineteenth century. Added to the modernization of the profes
sional structure, the communal leadership had changed. By the end of
World War I, graduates of the modern schools tended to replace the
more traditional presidents and treasurers of the communities. Whether
Zionists, supporters of Zionism, anti-Zionists, or al-W ifâq integrationists
— these leaders became essential intermediaries between the colonial
establishment and (later) the independent regimes, on the one hand, and
the Jewish populations, on the other. Remote from the Jewish ghettos
they were nevertheless proponents of reform. Often portrayed as the
docile servants of the French by the post-1956/62 regimes, our findings
indicate this was certainly not the case when Jewish freedom of move
ment became a thorny issue, or when it came to reforming educational
and communal institutions.
2. The Zionist opposition to the AIU, as analyzed in chapter 1, is
noteworthy. It certainly was not all ideological, not simply about de-
345
346 Conclusions
Judaization and neglect of Hebrew culture. For, after all, why did the
Zionists in Tunisia refrain from attacking the Protectorate schools, where
the Jews were well represented, and where classes were often conducted
on Saturday? Their suggestion of replacing the AIU com pletely by a
Protectorate-sponsored écoles fran co-israélites network would indicate
that opposition to the AIU stemmed from the Tunisian Zionists’ inability
to neutralize the influence traditionally enjoyed by the AIU in communal
service. This impeded somewhat the pre-1939 Zionist struggle for influ
ence in the Jewish milieu. It appears that the Tunisian Zionists wanted
the AIU out owing to the competition it posed in the struggle for Jewish
leadership and reform.
3. Maghribi nationalist forces, too, expressed displeasure with the
AIU and other international Jewish organizations. In Morocco, national
ist resentment of the AIU was still very much alive in the 1970s. It could
be found in the writings of cAbd al-Qâdir Ben cAbd Allah, an editorialist
for the Istiqlàl party’s V O pinion. Portraying the AIU as an instrument of
both European colonialism and Zionism, he noted in 1976:
Numerous are the Jews who were victims of the operations of this organization
and have consequently felt like foreigners rather than Moroccans. Having lost all
contact with their Muslim compatriots, these Westernized Jews were in fact
overwhelmed by a genuine persecution complex, seeing in the Moroccan Muslim
a potential enemy. By cultivating this feeling of insecurity among the Jews, the
Alliance Israélite paved the way for the exodus of these Jews to Israel. . . . The
departure o f . . . Jews to Israel was planned by the Zionists since the nineteenth
century, the epoch when the schools of the Alliance Israélite began to spread
their influence across Morocco.1
These accusations were partly justified but for the most part inaccur
ate. Even if one accepts the premise that the Jews were victimized by
the AIU, one must look closely at the Jews’ quest for outside help.
Feelings of insecurity and persecution complexes in pre-1830 Algeria and
in the course of Moroccan history were neither figments of Jewish imagi
nation nor were these implanted in Jewish minds by the AIU or the
colonists. It would be difficult, however, to deny that the AIU guided
the Jews in the path of French culture and, from the late 1940s, in the
direction of Hebrew culture, hence aggravating the already existing Ju-
deo-Muslim tensions, cultivating a French-educated elite, and facilitating
caliya. The AIU, then, sharpened divisions culturally, but was not at the
Conclusions 347
root of the conflict, for the Jews w ere separated from the Muslims in
m ellàhs and k a ra t al-Y ahüd long predating the arrival of the AIU and
European colonialism, and in accordance with legislation. Only under
European presence and the œ u vre of the AIU did the Jews begin to
leave the ghettos for the new, integrated urban neighborhoods, built in
the early twentieth century.
4. Some may argue that, with the exception of Algerian Jews, most of
whom emigrated to France rather than Israel, French-type acculturation
for the rest lost its vitality during decolonization and Arabization, and
perhaps even earlier; with the creation of Israel came the wish to make
caliya and to stress Jewish/Hebrew education. In the Tunisian case the
argument is certainly unconvincing, as nearly half of the Jews settled in
France. Adequate knowledge of French thus became indispensable at
the crucial stage of adapting to the new geography. Moreover, in Israel,
many Tunisian emigrants played the role of intermediaries in trade and
cultural exchanges between Israel and France. Their contribution in
these domains was vital, for during the 1950s and 1960s Franco-Israeli
relations were as favorable as American-Israeli relations became in the
1970s and 1980s. The same applied to Moroccan emigrants, though their
exposure to French language and culture was not as comprehensive as
among the Tunisians.
5. Essential components of modernization included social/human ser
vices rendered by the international Jewish organizations and the colonial
authorities. Not only did these initiatives improve the living standards
among the Jews at the time the decolonization process commenced, but
in all likelihood contributed to Jewish population growth. Though the
struggle against disease and overcrowded conditions in the ghettos was
far from over, considerable progress had been achieved by mid-century.
In surveying the demographic changes in the Jewish world, certain
historians remark that the nineteenth century was a period of rapid
increase in population in all European countries. The number of Jews in
the world in 1800 was estimated at two and a quarter million, of whom
some two million lived in Europe. In the 1880s there were about seven
million Jews in Europe. The Jewish rate of increase was twice as fast as
that of the non-Je wish population. The main reasons for this rapid in
crease of population in Europe were the amelioration of sanitary condi
tions and improved medical treatment for the sick. The situation in the
towns, which in previous centuries had been centers of disease and
348 Conclusions
epidemics, improved as a result of these changes, due to improvements

in water supply, in sewage, and in garbage disposal.2
It would appear that these changes also applied to North Africa in the
mid-twentieth century. Afflicted by certain ailments, Jews and Muslims
could now find a cure for chronic health problems, which in the past
were neither attended to nor properly diagnosed. What is more, death
rates from disease declined steadily. Whereas no more than 100,000 Jews
lived in Morocco in 1912, 50,000 in Tunisia in 1881, and 30,000-35,000
in Algeria in 1830, the Jewish populations in the mid-1950s rose to
250,000, 95,000, and 140,000, respectively.
6. A final aspect on the influence of modernity is the consequence of
assimilation in Algeria. Regardless of how modernized and influenced by
French culture, Algerian Jewish identity, it appears, was not completely
lost. This was not only evidenced by post-W orld War II communal
reforms, undertaken by the FCIA, but following emigration to France.
No longer in Algeria, facing the pains of resettlement, they searched for
a more intense religious life at their time of crisis. They gradually con
tributed to the regeneration of French Jewry by settling in small pro
vincial cities where no Jewish communities had previously existed or
where these had been very small.
For instance, before the arrival of the Algerians there was little Jewish
community life in the northeastern and southern portions of France.
Orléans, Le Havre, and Amiens had synagogues but they were only open
for the High Holy Days. In other communities where there were no
synagogues, temporary facilities were rented. With the arrival of the
Algerians, Jewish life in these tiny communities was revitalized. Syn
agogues were no longer closed, religious services were conducted every
week, and rabbis were appointed in Orléans and Le Mans for the first
time in many years. There was kosher meat at Caen and Le Havre, while
in Amiens the communities for the first time in several decades orga
nized, and financed, a rabbinic school.
7. The Vichy period and the German occupation of Tunisia, as well as
data on the anti-Semitic legislation, clearly refute the theory that Medi
terranean basin Jewry, with the exception of the Greek communities,
were spared the dangers faced by their coreligionists in Nazi-occupied
Europe. While the “final solution” did not apply to Tunisian Jewry, and
the application of racial laws in both Morocco and Tunisia may not have
been particularly harsh, the anxieties of the early 1940s were real. The
Conclusions 349
underground resistance in the ghettos of Poland and in France had its

modest yet effective counterpart in Algeria.
8. Another factor, during the decolonization phase, has to do with
governmental policies. Not underestimating the intensity of the interro
gation methods applied to Zionist activists by the authorities, and the
virtual ban on emigration (Morocco); or the arrest and interrogation of
Israeli emissaries and local Zionists (Tunisia)— the policies adopted by
Nasser’s Egypt or Syria such as internment in prison camps, sequestra
tion, or even outright confiscation of assets, and large-scale expulsions (as
was the case with Egyptian Jews in 1956-57), were never implemented
by Muhammad V, Hasan II, Bourguiba, or the FLN. The freedom of
action granted in Algeria, Morocco (since 1961), and Tunisia to Jewish
emigration societies— including the Jewish Agency’s operations inside
Tunisia, the United HIAS Service facade for the M ossad/Jewish Agency
in connection with “Operation Yakhin,” and the United HIAS in Algeria
for departure to countries other than Israel— was unparalleled elsewhere
in the Arab world. These organizations enjoyed greater legality than
government opponents who were Muslims (Youssefites in Tunisia, oppo
nents of the FLN , underground political movements in Morocco), albeit
managed by foreigners and financed from abroad. The authorities learned
that such Jewish initiatives, doubtless a source of occasional embarrass
ment, were not intended to undermine their power base, as their Mus
lim adversaries would have liked to. Besides, there was the consideration
in Morocco and Tunisia that curbing this freedom of action would inevi
tably trigger reactions among Jews and governments in the West, reac
tions Bourguiba and Hasan II in particular sought to avoid.
Notes
Introduction
1. André Chouraqui, B etw een E ast an d W est: A H istory o f th e Je w s o f N orth
A frica, Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society of America, 1968, 7.
2. David C. Gordon, T he Passing o f F ren ch A lgeria, Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 1966, 6 -1 0 .
3. See note 2 and Clement Moore, Politics in N orth A frica , Boston: Little,
Brown, 1970.
4. Moore, Politics in N orth A frica, 23.
5. See especially L. Carl Brown, T he Tunisia o f A hm ad B ey, 1837-1855,
Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1974.
6. See note 4 (pp. 22-23).
7. John Waterbury, T he C om m an d er o f the Faithful: T he M oroccan Political
E lite, New York: Columbia University Press, 1970, 10-11.
8. Ibid., 10-11.
9. Ibid., 3 4 -3 5 , 4 0 -4 1 .
10. Quoted in Elbaki Hermassi, L ead ersh ip a n d N ational D evelopm ent in N orth
A frica — A C om parativ e Study, Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of
California Press, 1972, 70.
11. Hamilton A. R. Gibb and Harold Bowen, Islam ic Society an d th e W est,
Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1957, vol. I, pt. II, 207-208.
12. André Chouraqui, “Algeria,” A m erican Jew ish Y ear B ook, (AJYB hereafter)
56 (1955), 431-432.
13. André Zaoui, “Tunisia,” A JYB, 58 (1957), 348.
14. Henry L. Levy, “Tunisia,” AJYB, 56 (1955), 441.
15. Z. Schuster and Max Isenbergh to John Slawson, Paris, 28 March 1950,
Arch. AJDC/Jerusalem, 10B/56.308.
16. Manuel L. Ortega, L os H eb reo s en M arru ecos, Madrid 1934, 197.
17. For a less rigid analysis of the composition of Maghribi communities, espe
cially Morocco, see Shlomo Deshen’s important work: T he M eüah Society:
Jew ish Com m unity L ife in Sharifian M orocco, Chicago: Chicago University
351
352 Notes to Chapter 1
Press, 1989. See also Yaron Tsur, F ran ce an d the Jew s o f Tunisia: T he Policy
o f the F ren ch A uthorities tow ard the Je w s an d the A ctivities o f the Jew ish
E lites during the P eriod o f Transition fr o m Muslim In d ep en d en t State to
C olon ial R ule, 1873-1888 x-xii. Ph.D dissertation, The Hebrew University
of Jerusalem, 1988, Hebrew.
18. H. Z. Hirschberg, A H istory o f the Je w s in N orth A frica , vol. I: F rom
A ntiquity to the Sixteenth C en tu ry, Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1974, 155.
19. On this topic see: Michael Abitbol, Tém oins et acteu rs: L es C orcos et l’his
toire du M aroc con tem p orain , Jerusalem: Ben-Zvi Institute, 1977; Michael
M. Laskier, T he A lliance Israélite U niverselle an d th e Jew ish Com m unities
o f M orocco: 1862-1962, Albany: State University of New York Press, 1983;
Daniel J. Schroeter, M erchants o f E ssaou ira: U rban Society an d Im perialism
in Southw estern M orocco, 1844-1886, Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 1988; Leland Louis Bowie, T he P rotégé System in M orocco: 1 8 8 0 -
1904, 12. Ph.D dissertation, Ohio State University, 1970.
1. North African Jewry in the Twentieth Century

1. See especially Norman A. Stillman, T he Je w s o f A rab L an ds in M odern
Times, Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society of America, 1991; and
Michael M. Laskier, M aghribi Je w ry in th e S hadow o f Vichy an d th e Sw as
tika, Tel-Aviv: Tel-Aviv University Press, 1992, Hebrew.
2. Michael M. Laskier, The A lliance Israélite Universelle an d the Jew ish C om
munities o f M orocco: 1862—1962, Albany: State University of New York
Press, 1983, 53.
3. Ibid., 164-165.
4. Victor de Stahl, “La naturalisation des israélites marocains,” La D ép êch e
M arocaine, 2 November 1927, emphasis in original; see also on political
status note 2 and Stillman’s T he Jew s o f A rab L an ds in M odern Times.
5. Y. D. Sémach à 1’AIU, Rabat, 10 octobre 1936, Arch.AIU.MAROC.XLV.E.
717(j).
6. R. Gaudefroy-Demombynes, L ’œ u v re fr a n ç a is e en m atière d ’enseignem ent
au M aroc, Paris: Paul Geuthner, 1928, 206-208.
7. Michael M. Laskier, “Muslims and Jews in Morocco: Similarities and Con
trasts in the Influence of French Education and Culture, 1912-1956” in
M. A. Friedman and M. Gill (eds.), Te cu da: Studies in Ju d a ica , Tel-Aviv:
Tel-Aviv University Press, 1986, 2 44-258, Hebrew.
8. William Bein at the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee (AJDC)
Country Directors Conference, Paris, October 1952, Arch. AJDC/Jerusalem,
330B.
9. See Zvi Yehuda, T he Zionist O rganization in M orocco: 1900-1948, Ph.D.
dissertation, The Hebrew University of Jerusalem, 1981, Hebrew. Michael
M. Laskier, “The Evolution of Zionist Activity in the Jewish Communities of
Morocco, Tunisia and Algeria: 18 9 7 -1 9 4 7 ,” Studies in Zionism, 8 (Fall 1983),
205-236.
Notes to Chapter 1 353
10. See note 2 (pp. 198, 200-201).

11. See especially, David Cohen, “Lyautey and Zionism in Morocco (1912-
1925),” K ivunim , 18 (February 1983), 105-154, Hebrew.
12. See note 2 (pp. 203, 207).
13. “Une politique néfaste,” L ’A venir Illu stré, 18, no. 107, 22 May 1930.
14. Lucien Saint à Monsieur le Chef de Région (Rabat), 29 juillet 1932, Archives
des Affaires Etrangères, Nantes, Direction de rintérieur/810A.
15. See especially: Joseph Chetrit, “La Haskala hébraïque au Maroc à la fin du
XIXe siècle et sa contribution à lap pari t ion du mouvement sioniste,” in
Issachar Ben-Ami (ed.), R ech erch es su r la culture d es Ju iv es d ’A friqu e du
N ord , Jerusalem: Communauté Israélite Nord-Africaine, 1991, 3 1 3 -3 3 2 , He
brew; idem., “New Consciousness and Language: The Beginnings of a Move
ment of Enlightenment in Morocco at the End of the Nineteenth Century,”
in J. Chetrit (ed.), M iq qedem Umiyyam II: Studies in the Je w ry o f Islam ic
C ou n tries, Haifa: Haifa University, 1986, 129-168, Hebrew.
16. See Laskier, “The Evolution of Zionist Activity,” 205-236.
17. Ibid.
18. Raphael Ben-Asher, T he H istory o f H ash om er H atzair in Tunisia, Kibbutz
Giv cat Havïva, 1980, 19, Hebrew.
19. See especially Yitsâk Avrahami, “Ways of Emancipation: ‘Gdud HA-KKL’,
A Circle of Zionist-Socialist Students in Tunis, 1937-1942” Hebrew, in J.
Chetrit (ed.), M iqqed em Umiyyam III: T radition a n d M odernity in the N orth
A frican an d O rien tal Je w r y . Haifa: Haifa University Press, 1990, 171-186,
Hebrew.
20. See note 16 (pp. 229-232).
21. Ibid., 231.
22. Ibid.
23. Ibid.
24. L e R éveil J u i f 9 December 1927.
25. Alfred Valensi à l’Organisation Sioniste (Londres), Tunis, 27 juillet 1919,
Central Zionist Archives (CZA hereafter), Z4/1905.
26. Ibid.
27. Henri Maarek et Alfred Valensi à l’Organisation Sioniste, 21 février 1921,
CZA, Z4/1882.
28. Ibid.
29. Ibid.
30. H. Maarek, “En guise de préface,” L e R éveil J u i f 1, no. 12, 28 November
1924.
31. Ibid.
32. F. Allouche, “Notre entretien avec M. Morinaud: naturalisation . . . droits
. . . L e R éveil J u i f no. 39, 5 June 1925.
33. H. Maarek, “A propos d’une motion,” L e R éveil J u i f 3, no. 107, 24 Septem
ber 1926.
34. “Nationalisme ou assimilation,” Paix et D roit, 1, no. 4, monthly (April 1921),
p. 1.
35. H. Maarek, “Le clanger du sionisme/’ L e R éveil J u i f ‘ 4, no. 137, 22 April

1927.
36. Léon Pinhas à l’AIU, Safi, 13 mars 1934, Arch.AIU.MAROC, L .E .7 8 4 .
37. Ibid.
38. Jacques Bigart à Léon Pinhas, Paris, 5 avril 1934, Arch. AIU.MAROC, L .E .
784.
39. David Béhar à l’AIU, Safi, 12 décembre 1938, Arch. AIU.MAROC,
X LV III.E.371.
40. Sylvain Halff à David Béhar, Paris, 5 janvier 1939, Arch.AIU. MAROC,
X LV III.E.371.
41. A. Saguès, Deux organ isation s d e d éfen se du ju d aïsm e: le sionism e et ïa lli
an ce israélite, Tunis, 1920, 10.
42. Henri Maarek et Alfred Valensi à l’Organisation Sioniste, Tunis, 21 février
1921, CZA, Z4/1882.
43. See note 41 (p. 21).
44. Y. D. Sémach à l’AIU, Tanger, 19 octobre 1919, Arch. AI U. MAROC,
L X I.E . 946(c).
45. Y. D. Sémach à l’AIU, Rabat, 29 décembre 1926, Arch.AIU.MAROC,
X L II.E .717(a).
46. Ibid.
47. Ibid.
48. Y. D. Sémach à l’AIU, Rabat, 21 mars 1927, Arch. AI U. MAROC, X LII.E . 717(a).
49. A. Laredo, “La culture juive au Maroc,” L'Avenir Illu stré, no. 243, 27
February 1936, 9 -1 0 .
50. Albert Confino à l’AIU, Talmud Torah Alger, Rapport Annuel, 17 novembre
1922, Arch.AIU. FRANCE, VII 13-14.
2. Under Vichy and the Nazi-German Menace

1. This chapter is an expanded version of an article published in M odern
Ju d a ism , 11, no. 3 (October 1991), 8 4 -1 1 4 . The material is published with
the permission of the Johns Hopkins University Press.
2. On these developments, see Michel Abitbol, The Je w s o f N orth A frica
during the S econ d W orld W ar, Jerusalem: The Ben-Zvi Institute, 1986, 3 1 -
33, Hebrew.
3. On the pogrom of August 1934, see Charles Ageron, “Une émeute antijuive
à Constantine (août 1934),” R evue d e l'Occident Musulman et d e la M éditer
ran ée, (1973), 2 3 -4 0 ; Abitbol, The Je w s o f N orth A frica during th e S econ d
W orld W ar, 2 2 -2 4 ; Joseph Fischer, Pogrom e d e C onstantine: R ap p ort p r é
senté à la C on féren ce ju iv e m on diale d e G en ève (2 0 -2 3 aoû t 1934), Central
Zionist Archives in Jerusalem (CZA), S25/5217.
4. J. D. Mosseri, “Les désordres antisémites de Sfax à l’instar d’Aden,” Is ra ël,
13, no. 33 (12 August 1932), 1 -2 .
5. J. P. Halstead, R ebirth o f a Nation: T he Origins an d Rise o f M oroccan
Nationalism: 1912-1944, Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1967,

153, 155.
6. Michael M. Laskier, M aghrihi Je w ry in th e S hadow o f Vichy a n d th e Swas-
tika, Tel-Aviv: Tel-Aviv University Press, 1992, 384.
7. Elie Cohen-Hadria, “Les juifs francophones dans la vie intellectuelle et
politique en Tunisie entre les deux guerres,” in M. Abitbol (ed.), Ju d a ïsm e
d ’A friqu e du N ord aux XIXe et XXe siècles, Jerusalem: Ben-Zvi Institute, 4 9 -
66; Michael M. Laskier, “From Hafsia to Bizerte: Tunisia’s Nationalist Strug
gle and Tunisian Jewry, 1 9 5 2 -6 1 ,” M editerran ean H istorical R eview , 1, no.
4 (1987), 188-222.
8. Muhammad al-Kholtî, “Les israélites et nous,” L ’A ction du Peuple (18 Au
gust 1933), 1.
9. On the work of the AIU, see Michael M. Laskier, T he A lliance Israélite
U niverselle an d th e JeuAsh C om m unities o f M orocco: 1862-1962, Albany:
State University of New York Press, 1983.
10. Léon Aranias à l’Alliance, Larache, 27 juillet 1939, Arch. AI U. MAROC,
LXXIII, E . No file number.
11. Albert Saguès à l’Alliance, Tanger, 8 septembre 1936, Arch. AI U. MAROC,
LX. E. 943 (e).
12. Ibid.
13. La situation des Ju ifs en Zone fr a n ç a is d e l’em p ire chérifien : fin 1943, CZA Z
4/10.266.
14. A. Cohen à l’Alliance, Safi, 18 décembre 1939, Arch. AI U. MAROC, XLVIII.
E. 743.
15. Bulletin O fficiel du M aroc (BOM ), 31 October 1940; “Le statut officiel des
Juifs au Maroc: le dahir du 31 octobre 1940,” Bulletin d e la F éd ération des
Sociétés Ju iv es d ’A lgérie (BFSJA ), 8, no. 67 (February-M arch 1941), 14-15.
16. BOM, 8 August 1941; “Statut des Juifs Marocains,” BFSJA , 8, no. 73 (Octo
ber 1941), 18.
17. David Cohen, “The Nature of the Implementation of the Anti-Jewish Legis
lation in Morocco under Vichy in Accordance with New Documents from the
Quai d’Orsay,” P roceedin gs o f th e Ninth W orld C on gress o f Jew ish S tu dies,
division B, vol. II, Jerusalem, 1986, 227, Hebrew.
18. M. Y., R. S., R. B. (Robert Benazeraf), R ap p ort C onfidentiel: L ’ap p lication
du statut d es ju ifs et d es disposition s raciales à la popu lation ju iv e du M aroc
(Jerusalem): Ben-Zvi Institute, 16-18. Unpublished ms.
19. Ibid., pp. 13, 2 3 -2 4 . The report provides ample statistical data on the
expulsion of Jewish students and educators.
20. Laskier, T he A lliance Israélite U niverselle an d M orocco, 183.
21. Roger Thabault, “Le Maroc à l’heure du Vichysme,” L es N ouveaux C ah iers,
43 (Winter 1975-76), 17.
22. Lettre de Darlan à Vallat, Documents: Centre de Documentation Juive,
Paris, LXX11-12 et XXV1112-41 et 330.
23. Claude Singer, “Servir la France— le journal de René Cassin à Londres,”
L es N ouveaux C ah iers, 81 (Summer 1985), 63.
24. H. Z. (J. W.) Hirschberg, A H istory o f the Je w s in N orth A frica , Leiden:

E. J. Brill, 1974, vol. II, 324-325.
25. Past and Present Conditions of the Jews in Morocco: F rom the Origins to the
A dvent o f the F ren ch a n d Spanish P rotectorates in 1912 (Report from No
vember 1944)— submitted to the American Jewish Joint Distribution Com
mittee (AJDC), AJDC Archives, Jerusalem, North Africa File/327.
26. Note: A/S La situation des israélites au Maroc, Tétuan, 6 août 1945, Archives
des Affaires Etrangères (AAE hereafter)-Nantes, DI/809.
27. Ibid.
28. Ibid.
29. Ibid.
30. Fritz Lichtenstein to the Jewish Agency, Tangier, 3 -1 7 May 1944, CZA S26/
1937.
31. Blandin, “La population de Tanger en 1940,” R evue A fricain e, 88 (1944), 97.
32. See note 30.
33. Charles Hamet, L a com m unauté israélite d e T an ger, Tanger 1951, unpub
lished ms. CHEAM (Centre de Hautes Études Administatives sur l’Afrique
et l’Asie Moderne, Paris), 74.
34. See note 25.
35. See note 2.
36. Hirschberg, A H istory o f the Je w s in N orth A frica, vol. II, 326.
37. Note sur la question juive au Maroc, confidentiel. 17 juin 1943, AAE-Nantes,
DI/809.
38. “Décret du 30 novembre 1940 portant statut des Juifs en Tunisie: La nou
velle législation sur le statut des Juifs,” BFSJA , 8, no. 66 (January 1941), 1 2 -
14.
39. “Mesures concernant la Tunisie: avocats défenseurs,” B F S JA , 8, no. 74
(November 1941), 12.
40. Jo u r n a l O fficiel d e Tunisie (JO T ), 6 November 1941; “Mesures concernant
la Tunisie: médecins,” B F S JA , 9, no. 76 (January 1942), 16.
41. Nahum Yerushalmi, Tunis, to the Zionist Federation Organization Depart
ment in Jerusalem, 15 June 1941, CZA S5/795.
42. On important studies regarding Tunisian Jewry under the German occupa
tion, see Yitsbalc Avrahami, “Tunisian Jewry under German Occupation:
Financial Matters,” Pe *amim, 28 (1986), 107-125, Hebrew. Abitbol, T he
Je w s o f N orth A frica during th e S econ d W orld W ar, 115-124; R. Borgel,
E toile ja u n e et C roix gam m ée: récit d ’une servitu de, Tunis, 1944; Daniel
Carpi, “The Italian Government and the Jews of Tunisia in the Second World
War (June 1940-M ay 1943, Zion, 52, no. 1 (1987), 5 7 -1 0 6 , Hebrew. Paul
Ghez, Six m ois sous la botte, Tunis, 1943; Hirschberg, A H istory o f the Jew s
in N orth A frica, vol. II, 140-143; Yaron Tsur, “The Jewish Communities of
Tunisia during the Nazi Occupation,” A nnual f o r th e Study an d R esearch on
C on tem porary Jew ry , 2 (1985), 153-173, Hebrew.
43. See especially Avrahami, “Tunisian Jewry under German Occupation: Finan
cial Matters,” Pe cam im , 28 (1986), 114-115, Hebrew.
44. David Chemla, “Quand l’allemand occupait la Tunisie,” L a Voix Ju iv e , 7 July

1944, 1.
45. Interview with Avraham Çarfatï conducted by the Ghetto Fighters Museum
Staff, June 24, 1968, Ghetto Fighters Museum Archives (GFMA)/50/01.
46. Interview with Yitshak Avrahami, 24 June 1968, GFMA/50/01.
47. Naffali Bar-Giora to this author, 3 March 1982.
48. “Revue de la jurisprudence: conservation des droits politiques du citoyen,”
B FSJA , 8, no. 67 (February-M arch 1941), 11.
49. Ibid., 11-12.
50. Michel Ansky, L es ju ifs âi A lgérie du d écret C rém ieux à la lib éra tio n y Paris:
Centre de Documentation Juive Contemporaine, 1950, 166.
51. Ibid.
52. “Mesures concernant l’Algérie sages femmes,” B F S JA , 8, no. 75 (December
1941) , 16.
53. Jo u r n a l O fficiel d A lg érie (JO A ), 25 November 1941; “Mesures concernant
les biens, décret du 21 novembre 1941 étendant à l’Algérie la loi du 22 juillet
1941 relative aux entreprises, biens et valeurs appartenant aux juifs,” B F S JA ,
8, no. 75 (December 1941), 17-20.
54. Ibid.
55. “L ’application du num erus clausus en Algérie (documentation officielle):
instruction pour l’admission des élèves juifs,” B FSJA y 8, no. 83 (October
1942) , 1.
56. “Sur le num erus c l a u s u s B F S J A y 9, no. 86 (March 1943), 10-11.
57. Elie Gozlan, “Des écoles, des collèges, des lycées!” B F S JA y 9, no. 83 (Octo
ber 1942), 1.
58. Paul Sebaoun, La résistance ju iv e algérien n e. Unpublished account, The
Tabenkin Institute for the Study of the Zionist Movements in the Middle
East and North Africa. I thank Yitshak Avrahami for the use of this docu
ment.
59. Ibid.
60. Abitbol, T he Je w s o f N orth A frica during the S econ d W orld W a ry 106.
61. See note 58.
62. Ibid; Abitbol, T he Je w s o f N orth A frica during the S econ d W orld W ar, 106;
see especially Gitta Amipaz-Silber, L a résistan ce ju iv e en A lgérie: 1 9 4 0 -
1942y Jerusalem: Rubin Mass, 1986, 7 7 -7 9 .
63. See note 58.
3. Zionism, Clandestine Emigration

1. Samuel Daniel Lévy at “Le IVe conférence régional de collaborateurs du
KKL et du Chekel,” L A venir Illu stré, 14 (284), 30 Ju n e-15 July 1939.
2. Roger Le Tourneau, Jeu n esse eu ro p éen n e, ju iv e et m usulm ane en A friqu e du
N ord (Fez 1947), unpublished ms. CHEAM.
3. Interview with Moroccan Jews living in Los Angeles, members of Em-
Habanim Congregation, 29 November 1992.
4. Haim Sa cadon, “Ideology and Reality: The Etzel and the Hagana in Tunisia,
1945-1948,” in Benjamin Pinkus and Doris Bensimon (eds.), F ren ch Je w r y ,
Zionism an d the State o f Is ra el, Sdeh-Boker and Be5 er-Sheva, Ben-Gurion
University and the Paris Institut National de Langues et Civilisations Orien
tales, 1992, 3 22-34 0 , Hebrew.
5. Ephraim Friedman at Sym posium on the N orth A frican Jew ish Under-
g rou n d t in pamphlet by the Organization of the Former North African
Underground Activists, July 1987, 9 -1 1 .
6. Ya cakov Krause (Karoz), ha-Mossad Le cAliya to the DMO, Tel-Aviv, 3
February 1949, Hagana Archives (HA hereafter), 14/5 [Hebrew]; The cAliya
Situation in Morocco, Confidential Report of the Mossad Le cAliya, March
1949, no specific date, HA 14/5 [Hebrew]; Marc Jarblum, “Report on My
Visit to North Africa,” Paris, 17 January 1949, Arch. AJDC/Jerusalem, 149B;
Ephraim Ben-Hayyim, “Illegal Emigration from North Africa: The Three
Ships,” in Y. Avrahami (ed.), Shorashim b a-M izrah, I, Ramat-Ef cal, Yad-
Tabenkin and ha-Kibbutz ha-Meuhad, 1986, 24 1 -3 2 0 , Hebrew.
7. Y. Krause (Karoz), ha-Mossad Le cAliya to the DMO, Tel-Aviv, 3 February
1949, HA 14/5, Hebrew.
8. Ibid.
9. Ibid. See another study on the Jews of Oudjda by Yvette Katan, O udjda:
Une ville fr o n tiè r e du M aroc (1 9 0 7 -1 9 5 6 ), Paris: L ’Harmattan, 1990.
10. Alphonse Juin à Georges Bidault, Rabat, 20 juillet 1947, AAE-Nantes, Direc
tion de l’Intérieur (DI hereafter)/809.
11. Ibid.
12. Ibid.
13. Ibid.
14. Abu Khalil, “The Zionist Poison in Morocco,” L e Je u n e M oghrebin y no. 1, 20
July 1947, Arabie.
15. See note 10.
16. Francis Lacoste à Juin, Rabat, 3 juin 1948, AAE-Nantes, DI/CAR. 3, DOSS.
1.
17. Ibid.
18. Brunei à Juin, Telegram, Oudjda, 7 juin 1948, 7:25 p . m ., AAE-Nantes, DI/
CAR. 3, DOSS. 1.
19. J. L ., “Les troubles antisémites du Maroc Oriental,” AAE-Nantes, DI/CAR.
3, DOSS. 1, no date.
20. Ibid.
21. Eugène Weill, “Evénéments du 7 juin 1948 et jours consécutifs à Oudjda et
Djérada,” 30 juin 1948, AAE-Nantes, Cabinet/251.
22. See note 19.
23. See note 21.
24. See note 19.
25. See note 21.
26. Efraim Ben Hayyim [sic] (Friedman), “The Erets-Yisrael Mission to North
Africa— The First Phase: 1943-1948/49,” Symposium o f the Organization o f

Former Underground Activists in North Africa , July 1987, 13, Hebrew.
27. See note 19.
28. See notes 19 and 21.
29. al-'Alam, 16 July 1948, Arabic.
30. See note 21.
31. See note 29.
32. alÂlam, 24 June 1948, Arabic.
33. Brunei to Juin, Oudjda, 19 June 1948, AAE-Nantes, DI/CAR. 3, DOSS. 1.
34. Ibid.
35. Ibid.
36. Ibid.
37. Procès des marocains inculpés à la suite des événements d’Oudjda, AAE-
Nantes, DI/CAR. 3, DOSS. 1.
38. M. Blanchier, Chef de l’Annexe, Djérada, à Brunei, 23 février 1949, Confi
dentiel, AAE-Nantes, DI/CAR. 3, DOSS. 2.
39. Le procès des émeutes de Djérada, 13 février 1949, AAE-Nantes, DI/CAR.
3, DOSS. 2.
40. Note sur les secours attribués aux israélites de la région d’Oudjda, 6 octobre
1948, AAE-Nantes, 183-1.
41. Varié à Rabat, 8 septembre 1948, AAE-Nantes, DI/CAR. 3, DOSS. 2.
42. Brunei à Juin, 18 décembre 1948, Oudjda, Confidentiel, AAE-Nantes, DI/
CAR. 3, DOSS. 2.
43. Laparra à le Directeur de l’Intérieur, Fez, 27 août 1948, AAE-Nantes, DI/
810A.
44. According to Efraim Ben-Hayyim, one of the main Israeli caliya organizers
stationed in Algeria, in 1948-49 the Mossad Le cAliya in Marseilles set up a
laboratory for falsifying passports and visas. These were in turn sent to North
Africa in large quantities and provided to would-be emigrants either in
Morocco or once they reached Algeria. Efraim Ben-Hayyim, see note 26.
45. See note 6.
46. Direction de l’Intérieur/Section Politique: note à l’attention de Francis La
coste, no date, but probably from February or early March 1949, AAE-
Nantes, 183-1.
47. Moins à le Directeur de l’Intérieur, confidentiel, Rabat, 29 août 1948, AAE-
Nantes, DI/810A.
48. Moins à le Directeur de l’Intérieur, Rabat, 9 décembre 1948, AAE-Nantes,
DI/810A.
49. Direction de l’Intérieur, confidentiel, note sur l’émigration juive vers la
Palestine, Oudjda, 26 août 1948, AAE-Nantes, DI/810A.
50. Direction de l’Intérieur, note sur la situation à Oudjda, secret, Rabat, 29
octobre 1948, AAE-Nantes, DI/810A.
51. See note 42. According to Moins the majority of the Jewish community
councils “sont composées de personnages généralement fortunés, ayant des
situations acquises qui craignent les répercussions et les mesures de rétor

sion que pourraient amener des départs massifs d’israélites” (are composed
of the generally well-to-do, who have established themselves in life and who
fear the repercussions and retaliatory measures that massive Jewish depar
tures might bring).
52. Dessaigne à Chef de la Région de Fez, Sefrou, 19 novembre 1948, AAE-
Nantes, DI/810A.
53. Ibid.
54. Brunei à Juin, note de renseignement, Oudjda, 21 décembre 1948, AAE-
Nantes, DI/810A.
55. Note au sujet émigration israélite, AAE-Nantes, DI/Section Politique, 810A,
no date.
56. Direction de l’Intérieur/Section Politique: note à l'attention de Francis La
coste, no date, AAE-Nantes, 183-1.
57. Ibid.
58. Lacoste à R. Schuman, Rabat, 9 septembre 1948, AAE-Nantes, DI/811.
59. M. Jarblum, Report on My Visit in North Africa, Paris, 17 January 1949,
Arch. AJDC/Jerusalem, 149B-12.
60. Ibid.
61. Ibid.
62. Ibid. The general idea behind Jarblum’s argument was that, based on an
agreement made by the Residency, the Jewish Agency would conduct an
orderly, slow-paced emigration out of Morocco based on quotas. Therefore,
fewer people would leave each month than had done in 1947-48, which had
caused the Residency considerable embarrassment and, for Israel, great
problems of absorbing the fresh waves of emigrants.
63. Ibid.
64. Ibid.
65. Lacoste à Schuman, Rabat, 3 juin 1949, AAE-Nantes, DI/811.
66. Ibid. According to Lacoste: “Il restait un autre problème: celui d’éviter les
réactions éventuelles de la colère populaire musulmane et de ménager les
susceptibilités du Palais très vives en la matière” (There remained another
problem: that of avoiding possible reactions of popular Muslim anger and of
dealing tactfully with the great sensitivity of the Palace on the subject).
67. Ralph Spanien, HIAS-France, “Report on My Trip to Morocco,” confiden
tial, February 1949, no specific date, CZA, S20/561.
68. Ibid.
69. J. Gershuni à General Alphonse Juin, Casablanca, 9 mars 1949, confidentiel,
AAE-Nantes, DI/811.
70. Ibid.
71. Ibid.
72. AAE-Nantes, DI/813: note sans date de la Direction de l’Intérieur.
73. Interview with Sarny Halevy, Bustan ha-Galll, Israel, 22 September 1986,
Hebrew.
74. Ibid.
75. As long as the Mossad Le cAliya directed Cadima, its central emissaries were
Sarny Halevy and Shaul Guetta.
76. Michael M. Laskier, “Jewish Emigration from Morocco to Israel: Govern
ment Policies and the Position of International Jewish Organizations, 1 949-
5 6 ,” Middle Eastern Studies, 25, no. 3 (July 1989), 331.
77. Interview with Eliahu Brakha, Mossad Le cAliya emissary to Egypt (1949-
50) and Algeria (1950), Haifa, 18 November 1986, Hebrew.
4. Morocco's Struggle for Independence

1. Report by the Immigration Department in Marseilles, 1 March 1951, CZA,
S6/6074, Hebrew.
2. Giora Josephthal to Moses W. Beckleman, Jerusalem, 30 November 1955,
Arch. AJDC/Jerusalem, 20A.
3. Ze3 ev Khaklai to David Ben-Gurion (Israels Premier), Casablanca, 15 March
1953, Israel State Archives (ISA hereafter), Foreign Ministry (FM hereafter),
2398/1A Hebrew.
4. Ibid.
5. It is noteworthy that until 1954 families headed by widows were usually
rejected for caliya. As late as 1953 Cadima had split up many families in the
caliya process. This was less often the case subsequently.
6. See note 3.
7. Maurice Carr, “The Human Side,” Israel Youth Horizon , Jerusalem, De
cember 1951; cited from Joseph B. Schechtman, On Wings o f Eagles , New
York: Thomas Yosselof, 1961, 289-290.
8. S. Batish, “Report on My Visit to Morocco,” no specific date, 1953, ISA, FM
2388/13, Hebrew.
9. Coordinating Commission Session of 9 March 1953, CZA, S42/253, Hebrew.
10. See note 3.
11. Protocol of Meeting on North Africa, Tel-Aviv, 10 January 1954, ISA, FM
2398/1A, Hebrew.
12. Amos Eilon, “Ptifoa be-Casablanca,” ha-*Arets, 4 May 1953.
13. Meeting of the Coordinating Commission Chaired by Moshe Sharett and
Attended by Moshe Kol, Shlomo Zalman Shragai, Dr. A. Granot, Berl
Locker, Giora Josephthal, Levy Eshkol, Y. Rokeach, CZA, S42/253, The
Josephthal Papers, Hebrew.
14. Protocol of the Coordinating Commission, Meeting of 20 July 1954, Jerusa
lem, CZA, S42/253, Hebrew.
15. Michael M. Laskier, “Political and Organizational Aspects of Immigration to
Israel from Morocco: 19 4 9 -1 9 5 6 ,” Zionism, vol. XII, Tel-Aviv: Hakibbutz
Ha-M eu had Publishing House, 1987, 3 4 2 -3 4 3 , Hebrew.
16. Ze3 ev Khaklai to Eliachar, Casablanca, 18 November 1952, CZA, S6/6008,
Hebrew.
17. On this development see John Waterbury, The Commander o f the Faithful:
The Moroccan Political Elite , New York: Columbia University Press, 1970,
5 1 -5 5 ; Michael M. Laskier, T he A lliance Israélite Universelle an d the Jew ish

Com m unities o f M orocco: 1 8 6 2 -1 9 6 2, Albany: State University of New York
Press, 1983, 215-216.
18. Michael M. Laskier, “The Instability of Morocco Jewry and the Moroccan
Press in the First Decade after Independence,” Jew ish H istory, 1, no. 1
(Spring 1986), 3 9 -4 0 .
19. Yitshak Kleinbaum to Samuel L. Haber, Casablanca, 29 November 1955,
Arch. AJDC/Jerusalem, 10B/C56.308“A.”
20. Dr. Alexander Gonik to Samuel L. Haber, Casablanca, 22 February-3 March
1955, Arch. AJDC/Jerusalem, 20A. According to the AJDC, in October 1955
only between 8 and 10 percent of the Moroccan caliya candidates were
rejected on the basis of medical criteria whereas between 20 and 25 percent
were rejected on the basis of social criteria. (AJDC Country Directors Con
ference, Paris, 17 October 1955.)
21. See CZA, S42/228, Directives for Morocco, March-April 1955, Hebrew.
22. On this subject see Yehuda Grinker, T he Aliya o f A tlas Je w ry to Is ra el, Tel-
Aviv: Brit Yotsa cë Marokko, 1973, Hebrew. Laskier, T he A lliance Israélite
U niverselle an d M orocco, 2 1 4 -217; Shmuel Segev, “O peration Y a k h in ’—
T he C landestine E m igration o f M oroccan Je w ry to Is ra el, Tel-Aviv: Defense
Ministry Press, 1984, 6 4 -7 3 , Hebrew.
23. Segev, “O peration Yakhin ” 6 4 -6 5 ; Grinker, The Aliya o f Atlas Je w r y , 7 4 -
75.
24. Grinker, T he Aliya o f A tlas Je w r y , 75.
25. Ibid. 26; Laskier, T he A lliance Israélite Universelle an d M orocco, 214-215.
26. Chaim Toltshinski to Avraham Tziegel, Casablanca, 15 January 1956, CZA,
S6/256, Hebrew.
27. Dr. Giora Josephthal, The Jew ish A spects o f the Situation in N orth A frica,
Jerusalem, 10 August 1954, CZA, S42/253, Hebrew. While theoretically it
was planned in 1954 that 40 percent of the emigrants would settle in the
agricultural sector and 60 percent in development towns, this was not always
the case. For example, between August 1954 and January 1955, the break
down of resettlement of North Africans— Moroccans included— in Israel
was as follows: 60.7 percent in m oshavim , 5 percent in kibbu tzim , 14.7
percent in development towns, and 19.6 percent with relatives in other
places. See CZA, S42/228, [Hebrew].
28. Shragai to Moshe Dan Shenkop, Jerusalem, 18 February 1955, CZA, S6/856,
Hebrew.
29. Baruch Duvdevani to Shragai, Casablanca, 13 September 1955, CZA, S6/49,
Hebrew.
30. See CZA, S6/264, Hebrew.
31. Maurice Fischer to Moshe Sharett, Paris, 26 March 1953, ISA, FM 2398/1A,
Hebrew.
32. Shmuel Divon to Sharett, Paris, 27 December 1953, ISA, FM 268/11, He
brew.
33. Pessah Shinar to Uri Lubrani, Confidential, 22 June 1953, ISA, FM 2398/
IA, Hebrew.
34. Khaklai to Ben-Gurion, Casablanca, 15 March 1953, ISA, FM 2398/1A,
Hebrew.
o> üi
. Khaklai to Sharett, Casablanca, 17 March 1953, ISA, FM 2398/1A, Hebrew.

t^COÇOCOCpÇO
. Ibid.
<1
. Ibid.
;o oo
. See note 31.

. Khaklai to Sharett, Casablanca, 25 May 1954, ISA, FM 2398/1A, Hebrew.
. Amos Rabl to Shragai, Casablanca, 10 March 1955, ISA, FM 2398/1A, He
©
brew.
. Ya cakov Karoz to Research Department, Israel Ministry for Foreign Affairs,
h-
^
Paris, 20 May 1955, ISA, FM 2398/1A, Hebrew.

. We cannot confirm Lacoste’s assertion that he alone was responsible for
to
^
Cadima’s original functioning. Yet, as discussed in chapter 3, he did attempt

to convince Schuman that curbing ‘aliya severely or halting it was impracti
cal.
a ) en iu co
. Ibid.
. Ibid.
. Ibid.
. Ibid.
. Gdalia Paz à Fritz Lichtenstein, Casablanca, 26 avril 1950, CZA, L58/98.
oo
. Minna Blumenfeld’s Report: Protocols of the Jewish Agency Emissaries’

Meeting in Paris, 1 1 -1 2 December 1955, CZA, S6/333, Hebrew; see also
ISA, FM 191/16.
. Paz à Lichtenstein, Casablanca, 5 mars 1950, CZA, L58/99.
0
. Lichtenstein à Paz, Paris, 29 décembre 1949, CZA, L58/99.

o
. Blumenfeld to Moshe Bejski in Paris, Casablanca, 29 June 1950, CZA, L58/

h
98, Hebrew.
. Blumenfeld to Moshe Kol, Casablanca, 7 May 1950, CZA, L58/98, Hebrew.
to
OIÇ^CR
oj
. Ibid.
iL
. See for example: Blumenfeld to Bejski, 7 February 1952, CZA, L58/44,

Hebrew.
55. Blumenfeld to Bejski, Casablanca, 10 September 1951, CZA, L58/205, He
brew.
56. Bejski to Blumenfeld, Paris, 20 September 1951, CZA, L58/205, Hebrew.
57. Bejski to Blumenfeld, Urgent, Paris, 25 July 1952, CZA, L58/44, Hebrew.
58. Blumenfeld to Bejski, Casablanca, 11 July 1951, CZA, L58/205, Hebrew.
59. Meir Harboune, one of Cadima s representatives in Marrakesh, to Minna
Blumenfeld, 4 July 1952, CZA, L58/44, French.
60. Protocol of the Jewish Agency’s Emissaries Meeting in Paris, 1 1 -1 2 Decem
ber 1955, CZA, S6/333, Hebrew.
61. David Reichman, Geneva, 21 August 1955— Survey on Youth A liya, CZA,
L58/407, Hebrew.
62. Ibid.
63. In 1955-56, 1 dollar was the equivalent of 400 francs.
64. N. Menlson to Kol, Marseilles, 6 April 1956, CZA, L58/409, Hebrew.
65. Moshe Kol, Youth Aliya, Present and Future , Jerusalem, 1957, 119.
66. Paul Calamaro to Shlomo Nahon, end of 1948 or beginning of 1949, transla
tion from French into Hebrew, CZA, S20/DMO Files.
67. Dr. Shlomo Nahon, “Judaism and Zionism in North Africa,” Report on visit
to Morocco, Tunisia, and Tripoli in behalf of the World Zionist Organization’s
Executive, June 1948, CZA, S20/DMO Files, Hebrew.
68. Session of the Zionist General Council, 2 3 -3 1 August 1955, Addresses,
Debates, Resolutions, Jerusalem, 1957, cited from Schechtman, On Wings
o f Eagles, 291-293.
69. It is noteworthy that among Cadima’s emissaries at the time there were those
who thought that the dangers confronting the Jews were purely economic
(Muslim nationalists urging the boycott of Jewish merchants and the gener
ally unfavorable economic conditions at times of political upheavals) while
other envoys maintained that the Jews were in physical and political danger.
See for example Shabtai Tevet in ha-A rets , 26 August 1955.
70. Elie Peleg to the DMO, Paris, 4 September 1950, CZA, S20/DMO Files,
Hebrew.
71. Elie Mouyal to Mapai in Tel-Aviv, 3 September 1949, Israel Labor Archives,
The Pinhas Lavon Institute (ILA hereafter), 208IV/4969A, Hebrew.
72. Ibid.
73. “Ha-Bonim” in Casablanca to Ze5 ev Khaklai, 29 December 1949, CZA, S20/
DMO Files, Hebrew.
74. “Ha-Bonim” to Jerusalem, Casablanca, 23 January 1951, CZA, S20/DMO
Files, Hebrew.
75. Ibid. See also “Dror” to Avraham Nadad, 23 March 1951, CZA, S20/DMO
Files, Hebrew.
76. Shlomo Cohen, ha-Bonim’s emissary in the interior, to Jerusalem, Fez, 31
October 1949, ILA 208IV/4969A, Hebrew.
77. Hapoel Hamizrahi du Maroc (Bahad, Bnei cAkiva, Hapoel Hamizrahi), Rap
port des activités pour l’année 5710, 1949-50, CZA, S32/No car ve-he-Haluts
Files.
78. Dr. Benzion Benchalom to Pessah Rodnik, 23 May 1954, CZA, S32/No car
ve-he-Haluts Files, Hebrew.
79. “Ha-Bonim” to “Ihüd ha-No car ha-Kibbutsî” in Tel-Aviv, 20 June 1954,
CZA, S32/No car ve-he-Haluts Files, Hebrew.
80. Ibid.
81. Bne cAkiva/ha-Po cel ha-Mizrahi to Dr. Benchalom, Casablanca, 3 January
1955, CZA, S32/No car ve-he-IJaluts Files, Hebrew; see also William Bein,
AJDC director for Morocco. According to Bein, already in October 1952 the
E IF had a membership of 2,300 while DEJJ had 3,250. AJDC Directors
Conference: Minutes, Paris 1952, 16.
82. AJDC Country Directors Conference , Paris, October 1956, 31.
83. Avraham Israeli to Dr. Benchalom, 19 December 1955, CZA, S32/No car ve-
he-IJaluts Files, Hebrew.
84. The Department fo r Middle Eastern Jew ry— Reprint From the Report to the
Twenty-Third Zionist Congress, Jerusalem, 1951.
85. Interview with Eliahu Brakha, Haifa, 18 November 1986, Hebrew; see
report of Mossad Le cAliya/DMO collaboration and tensions in Elie Peleg’s
letter from 28 February 1951 to Ya cakov Zerubavel, ILA 1Q4IV/101H,
Hebrew.
86. See note 84.
87. Elie Peleg to Dr. Avraham Nadad, Paris, 11 January 1950, CZA, S20/561,
Hebrew.
88. Laskier, The Alliance Israélite Universelle and Morocco , 2 16-217.
89. Engleberg, Bitton, Gordon, Zaltz, and Ben-David to Ya cakov Zerubavel,
Paris, 18 December 1950, CZA, S20/575-I, Hebrew.
90. Elie Peleg to Ya cakov Zerubavel, Paris, 7 February 1951, ILA, 104IV/101H,
Hebrew.
91. Ibid.
92. Procès verbal de la réunion du comité du centre social du mellâfiy 22 février
1951, CZA, S20/DMO Files.
93. Ibid.
94. Ibid.
5. The cAliya from Morocco

1. The Problem of North African Jewry at the AJDC Country Directors Confer
ence, Paris, 8 November 1954, Report by Z. Bar-Zakai, ISA, FM 163/14,
Hebrew.
2. Interview with Rabbi Yitshak Rouche, Jerusalem, 9 February 1976, Hebrew.
3. Ibid.
4. Interview with Professor Issachar Ben-Ami, Jerusalem, 8 March 1976, He
brew.
5. David §arfatî and Albert Hazan, “Le rabbin Isaac Rouche,” Les Cahiers de
ïAlliance Israélite Universelle, no. 208 (mars 1984), 1 -4 .
6. Confidential information.
7. Interview with David SarfatI, Paris, 6 May 1985, French.
8. Y. Karoz to Research Department, Israel Ministry for Foreign Affairs, Paris,
20 May 1955, ISA, FM 2398/1A, Hebrew.
9. R. Tajouri à R. Cassin, Casablanca, Délégation de l’AIU, 15 mars 1955,
Arch.AIU MAROC, No File Number.
10. Paz à Lichtenstein, Casablanca, 26 avril 1950, CZA, L58/98.
11. William Bein to Morris Laub, Casablanca, 2 February 1951, Hagana Ar
chives, Tel-Aviv (HA hereafter), 14/5A.
12. Judah J. Shapiro to Dr. J. J. Schwartz, 24 January 1949, Arch. AJDC/Jerusa
lem, 149B/No. 12. Morocco Reports, July 1947/December 1955.
13. Ibid.
14. Zvi Yehieli to Yosef Bayrak, Paris, 18 March 1952, HA, 14/5A, Hebrew.
15. AJDC Country Directors Conference, 31 O ctober-4 November 1954, 6 8 -
69.
16. During the first WJC North Africa conference held in Algiers, on 7 -1 0 June
1952, the Moroccan delegation, though in support of ‘aliya, thought it essen
tial to educate the would-be emigrants and to create a special Moroccan
office in Israel to lobby for their interests and assist them in becoming better
integrated and absorbed into Israeli society. However, the delegation ex
plained that caliya was just one alternative and did not provide a total
solution to the problem of Moroccan Jewry. See 1ère conférence nord-
africaine du Congrès Juif Mondial/Jacques Lazarus Papers (Arch.CJM/Laza-
rus hereafter), P 164/27.
17. Projet du rapport à présenter à la conférence du Genève, Arch.CJM/Lazarus
P164/5.
18. Assemblée générale du comité central marocain, 15 avril 1956, Arch.CJM/
Lazarus P164/5.
19. A. L. Easterman to Sharett, London, 3 September 1954, ISA, FM 43/8.
20. Ibid.
21. Session o f the Zionist G en eral C ou n cil, 2 3 -3 1 August 1955, A dd resses,
D ebates, R esolutions, Jerusalem, 1957, 2 82-283.
22. Rapport du comité central marocain du CJM sur la situation des juifs au
Maroc présenté par son président à Paris, le 27 janvier 1955, Arch.CJM/
Lazarus P164/5. It is noteworthy that several WJC activists such as Meir
Toledano were ardent integrationists and supporters of Moroccan indepen
dence, anticipating leadership positions once the French had left. They often
criticized the post-1954 modified position of the Moroccan WJC executive on
increased emigration.
23. Ibid.
24. L e M onde, 8 September 1955.
25. On the contacts between the Moroccan nationalists and the WJC over Dr.
Benzaquen’s ministerial appointment, see A. L. Easterman to Zéidé Schul-
man, London, 21 December 1955, Arch.CJM/Lazarus P164/5-5603.
26. Perspectives in Morocco, by Jacques Lazarus, head of WJC Central North
African Office, Algiers, 17 October 1955, Arch.CJM/Lazarus P164/119-120.
27. A. L. Easterman to Walter Eytan (director-general of the Israel Ministry for
Foreign Affairs), 29 November 1955, ISA, FM 2398/1A.
28. Ibid.
29. Z. Shuster and Max Isenbergh to John Slawson, Paris, 28 March 1950,
Report on Morocco, Arch. AJDC/Jerusalem, 10B/56.308.
30. On French policy toward the legal status of the Jews, see Michael M.
Laskier, T he A lliance Israélite U niverselle a n d th e Jew ish C om m unities o f
M orocco: 1862-1962, Albany: State University of New York Press, 1983,
chapter 5; André Chouraqui, L a condition ju rid iq u e d e Visraélite m arocain ,
Paris: Presses du Livre Français, 1950.
31. Report by Shuster and Isenbergh, see note 29. On the Jews in French
Morocco and the controversy over French naturalization, see Laskier, The
A lliance Israélite U niverselle a n d M orocco, 163-171.
32. See note 29.
33. Ibid.
34. Ibid. The AJC sought to cooperate with the Council of Jewish Communities,
the umbrella organization representing the various communities throughout
Morocco, to have the French grant wider powers to it, thus minimizing
French intervention in local Jewish communal affairs. This issue was not
sufficiently clarified by the AJC.
35. Ibid.
36. Interview with Zachariah Shuster, New York, 3 March 1985; see also my
A lliance Israélite U niverselle a n d M orocco, 187-188.
37. Y. Tsur to M. Sharett, Paris, 20 August 1954, ISA, FM 163/13B, Hebrew.
38. Shmuel Segev, “O peration Y akhin”— T he C lan destin e E m igration o f M oroc
can Je w ry to Is ra el, Tel-Aviv: Defense Ministry Press, 1984, Hebrew, 8 0 -
81.
39. Protocol of Meeting of Jewish Agency Emissaries in Europe and North
Africa, 1 1 -1 2 December 1955, Paris, ISA, FM 191/6, Hebrew.
40. Ibid. Haber of the AJDC in Morocco related that every single responsible
Jewish leader believed that an early victim would be emigration to Israel
and, as a corollary of this, the dissolution of the operations of Cadima. In
December 1955 the most optimistic did not give more than six months for
these developments to take place. Samuel L. Haber to M. W. Beckleman,
Casablanca, 6 December 1955, Arch. AJDC/Jerusalem, 9C/10A/C56.300A.
41. “Cadima,” al-Ra? y al-cA m m , 22 February 1956, Arabic.
42. Baruch Duvdevani, director of the Jewish Agency’s Immigration Department
in Paris, to Shragai, 10 May 1956, ISA, FM 2388/6B, Hebrew.
43. S. Z. Shragai, internal report, confidential, 20 May 1956, ISA, FM 2569/3B,
Hebrew.
44. Ibid.
45. N. Ben-Menachem to Shragai, Paris, 26 May 1956, CZA, S59/Shragai Pa
pers, Hebrew.
46. See two letters from Shragai to Isser Harel dated 16 and 17 August 1956,
CZA, S59/Shragai Papers; my interview with Shlomo Havilio, Jerusalem, 21
July 1988, in Hebrew; and Eyal Erlich, “The Wounded Pride of the Silent
Agents,” ha-*Arets (Weekly Supplement), 29 May 1987, 6 - 7 , Hebrew.
47. Shragai to Harel, letters dated 16 and 17 August 1956, see note 46.
48. According to Segev, the government of Morocco announced plans to close
the Cadima camp at the end of May (Segev, “O peration Y akhin,” 95).
Easterman contended that emigration was suddenly stopped on 13 May
(W orld Jew ish C ongress: F ou rth P lenary A ssem bly— R ep ort o f th e Political
A ffairs D epartm en t, Stockholm, August 1959, 19).
49. Ibid.
50. Duvdevani to Shragai, Casablanca, 7 June 1956, CZA, S59/Shragai Papers,
Hebrew.
51. Isser Harel to Shragai, 30 September 1956, CZA, S59/Shragai Papers, He
brew.
52. S. Z. Shragai to Z. Shazar, Jerusalem, 14 August 1956, ISA, FM 2398/1B,
Hebrew.
53. Segev, “O peration Y akhin ,” 97.
54. N. Krofsoff (Easterman’s Secretary) to Sharett, London, 29 May 1956, ISA,
FM 2398/1B, Strictly Confidential. Sharett was replaced two weeks later by
Colda Meir as minister for foreign affairs.
55. Ibid.
56. Ibid.
57. Ibid.
58. World Jewish Congress, Fourth Plenary Assembly, Report o f the Political
Affairs Department, Stockholm, August 1959, 19.
59. J. Gouldin à cAbderrrahïm Bü cabld (then Moroccan ambassador to France),
Paris, 10 juillet 1956, ISA, FM 2398/1B.
60. Ibid.
61. According to Segev (p. 104), while the authorities were inclined to allow the
departure of 6,300 Jews of the 9,000 who had managed to reach the camp,
by September there were as many as 13,000 there. I have been unable to
confirm whether the number exceeded 6,300, since Segev cites no sources
for this information, nor have the available archives confirmed these esti
mates.
62. Duvdevani to Shragai, 6 August 1956, CZA, S59/Shragai Papers, confiden
tial, Hebrew.
63. Ibid.
64. Ben-Menachem to Shragai, Paris, 30 July 1956, CZA, S59/Shragai Papers,
Hebrew.
65. Duvdevani to Shragai, 29 July 1956, CZA, S59/Shragai Files, Hebrew.
66. See note 62.
67. Shragai to Z. Shazar, Jerusalem, 14 August 1956, ISA, FM 2398/1B, He
brew.
68. Ibid.
69. On Egypt, see my book The Jews o f Egypt, 1920-1970: In the Midst o f
Zionismt Anti-Semitism and the Middle East Conflict, New York: New York
University Press, 1992; idem, “From War to War: The Jews of Egypt be
tween 1948 and 1970,” Studies in Zionism, 17, no. 1 (1986), 111-147.
70. See note 67.
71. See S. Z. Shragai to Dr. N. Goldmann, Paris, 27 August 1956, ISA, FM
2398/1B; and A. Harman to S. Bendor, Jerusalem, 10 September 1956, ISA,
FM 2398/1B (both in Hebrew).
6. The Self-Liquidation Process

1. Y. Kleinbaum to Samuel L. Haber, Casablanca, 29 November 1955,
Arch. AJDC/Jerusalem, 10B/56.308A.
2. Michael M. Laskier, “Jewish Emigration from Morocco to Israel: Govern

ment Policies and the Position of International Jewish Organizations, 1949-
1956,” Middle Eastern Studies, 25, no. 3 (July 1989), 351.
3. See note 1.
4. Charles Bensimhon, “La mission de l'instituteur marocain de l’Alliance Isra
élite Universelle,” Les Cahiers de VAlliance Israélite Universelle, no. 111
(September-October 1957), 59-60; Michael M. Laskier, The Alliance Isra
élite Universelle and the Jewish Communities o f Morocco: 1862-1962, Al
bany: State University of New York Press, 1983, 335.
5. Bensimhon, “La mission,” 60; Laskier, The Alliance Israélite Universelle and
Moroccof 336.
6. Bensimhon, “La mission,” 61; Laskier, The Alliance Israélite Universelle and
Morocco, 336.
7. Bensimhon, “La mission,” 61.
8. Marc Sabbah, “La responsabilité des notables,” al-lstiqlâlt 13 July 1956.
9. Ibid.
10. Ibid.
11. Samuel L. Haber to Herbert Katzki, Casablanca, 18 December 1956,
Arch. AJDC/Jerusalem, 11A/56.700.
12. Arnold Mandel, “Une interview exclusive d’cAlal al-Fàsï,” UArche, 22 Octo
ber 1958, 8.
13. Ibid.
14. John Waterbury, The Commander o f the Faithful: The Moroccan Political
Elitey New York: Columbia University Press, 1970, 127.
15. Easterman to Zéidé Schulman, London, 21 December 1955; see also Schul-
man à Nahum Coldmann, Paris, 23 novembre 1955, Arch.CJM/Lazarus
P164/5603.
16. Eliezer Shoshani, Nine Years Out o f Two Thousand. Secret report submitted
to the Mossad and the Jewish Agency on the Misgeret in Morocco, Spring
1964, Hebrew.
17. Unsigned memorandum from mid-1958, CZA, S6/333, Hebrew.
18. Dr. G. Riegner to Dr. Nahum Coldmann, Geneva, 12 November 1958,
CZA, Z6/Nahum Coldmann Files.
19. See note 17.
20. See note 18.
21. Easterman, Casablanca, 6 July 1958, Report on Moroccan Jewry, CZA, Z6/
Nahum Coldmann Files.
22. Ibid.
23. Ibid.
24. Ibid.
25. Ibid.
26. Ibid.
27. Easterman to Goldmann, Casablanca, 20 April 1959, CZA, Z6/Nahum Gold-
mann Files.
28. Ibid.
29. Z. Shuster and A. Karlikow, Morocco Report, Paris, the AJC Foreign Affairs
Department in New York, 19 December 1959, Arch. AJDC/Jerusalem, 48B/
56.316.
30. Ibid.
31. Ibid.
32. Ibid.
33. Ibid.
34. Ibid.
35. Ibid.
36. Ibid.
37. Ibid.
38. Jules Braunschvig à Eugène Weill, 16 décembre 1958, from the files of the
AIU.
39. See note 29.
40. Speech by Dr. Léon Benzaquen at OSE-Maroc in Casablanca, 19 février
1959, Arch. AJDC/Jerusalem, 48B/56.310D.
41. Ibid.
42. Ibid.
43. Ibid.
44. See note 14 (p. 219).
45. “Morocco,” American Jewish Year Book, 61(1962), p. 354.
46. Shragai to Easterman, by diplomatic pouch, 22 July 1960, CZA, Z6/Nahum
Coldmann Files.
47. Easterman to Golda Meir, London, 6 September 1960, CZA, Z6/Nahum
Coldmann Files.
48. Ibid.
49. Ibid.
50. Easterman to Goldmann, London, 19 September 1960, CZA, Z6/Nahum
Coldmann Files.
51. American Jewish Committee, Paris Office, Abe Karlikow, to Foreign Affairs
Department, New York, 21 February 1961, Arch.AJDC/Jerusalem 48B/
C56.316.
52. Ibid.
53. Ibid.
54. Ibid.
55. Ibid.
56. Ibid.
57. Ibid.
58. Ibid.
59. “Les juifs du Maroc sont libres de se rendre dans n’importe quel pays sauf
Israël,” La Vigie Marocaine, 24 February 1961.
60. Minutes of the Mossad le-Te3 üm, Jerusalem, 13 February 1961; Hebrew.
61. Ibid.
62. Ibid.
63. Ibid.
. Ibid.
S' ID
©
. Ibid.
© © © © r- r-
. Ibid.
©
. Ibid.
00 © © ^
. AJDC Morocco Reports, 1961, Arch. AJDC/New York, 58.

. Easterman to Shragai, 9 October 1961, CZA, Z6/Nahum Coldmann Files.
. “The Dangers of Zionism,” al-*Alam, 30 August 1961, Arabic.
. *Abd al-Salam al-Hijjl, “The Problem of the Jewish Minority,” al-Tahrir, 15
September 1961, Arabic.
. “In the Aftermath of the World Jewish Congress Reunion,” al-Kifâh al-
r-
<N
Wafanï, 24 September 1961, Arabic.

. Marc Sabbab and David Azoulay, “Regarding the World Jewish Congress
t-
©
Reunion,” al-'Alam, 15 September 1961, Arabic.

t-^ t -
Tt< ©
. Ibid.
. K. H., “The World Jewish Congress and the Jewish Communities of Mo
rocco,” al-cAlam, 17-18 September 1961, Arabic.
. Ibid. Coldmann argued in Geneva that Algerian Jews, who for the most part
r*-
©
had been French citizens since 1870, be given the opportunity to choose
between Algerian and French citizenship. See Le Monde, 25 August 1961.
. cAbd al-Rahmân Saih, “Spanish Aid to Zionism,” al-Fajr, 13 January 1961,
S
Arabic.
0 0© ©
t^ t^ o o
. Ibid.
. “Communiqué by Patriotic Jews,” al-Tahrtr, 17 February 1961, Arabic.
. “The Israeli Consul in Gibraltar Visits the Northern Region of the Country,”
al-Âlam, 6 September 1961, Arabic.
. André Scemama, “Au Maroc les juifs sont acculés au désespoir,” Le Monde,
00
20 January 1961.
. MuçÇafa cAlawï, “Golda Meir Speaks with Malice,” al-Fajr, 20 January 1961,
cc
Arabie.
. “Exodus of Jews to Palestine,” al-Tahrir, 16 December 1961, Arabic.
0000
0 3 ;
. See al-Tahrir, 20 December 1961, Arabic.
7. The Underground and “Operation Yakhin”

1. Interview with Shlomo Havilio, Jerusalem, 21 July 1988, Hebrew; Eliezer
Shoshani, Nine Years out o f Two Thousand, Jerusalem, 1964, 41-42.
2. Interview with Shlomo Havilio.
3. Ibid.
4. See Shoshani (note 1).
5. See note 2.
6. Shmuel Segev, “Operation Yakhin ’— The Clandestine Emigration o f Moroc
can Jewry to Israel Tel-Aviv, Defense Ministry Press, 1984, 132, Hebrew.
7. Dalia Bengio, The “Dror” Movement in Morocco, 1945-1960. Unpublished
M.A. Thesis submitted to the History Department at Ben-Gurion Univer
sity, 1986, 71.
8. Testimony by Meir Knafo in Symposium on the North African Jewish Under

ground, Tel-Aviv, July 1987, Hebrew.
9. Ibid.
10. Avi Katzman, “The Cache Was in the Daughter s Teddy Bear,” ha-yArets, 13
October 1991, Hebrew.
11. See note 1.
12. See note 2.
13. See note 1.
14. See note 1 and Dr. G. Riegner to Dr. Nahum Goldmann, Geneva, 12
November 1958, CZA, Z6/Nahum Goldmann Files.
15. See note 2.
16. Testimony by Yehudit Friedman-Nesiahu in Symposium on the North Afri
can Jewish Underground, Tel-Aviv, July 1987, Hebrew.
17. See note 1.
18. Ibid.
19. See note 2.
20. See note 6 (pp. 113-114).
21. See note 2.
22. Ibid.
23. Special Meeting in Jerusalem on the cAliya from Morocco (4 November
1959), attended by Israel Foreign Minister Golda Meir, Shlomo Havilio, Dr.
Nahum Goldmann, Isser Harel, Shlomo Zalman Shragai, Baruch Duvdevani,
Yehuda Dominitz, and Moshe Rivlin, CZA, Z6/Nahum Goldmann Files.
24. See note 1.
25. Ibid.
26. Ibid.
27. Ibid.
28. Ibid.
29. See note 6 (pp. 130-131).
30. Cited from Dalia Bengio (see note 7 pp. 75-77).
31. See note 7.
32. See note 2.
33. See note 6 (pp. 193-198).
34. Document #689 in David Ovadia, The Jewish Community o f Sefrou (Mo
rocco), Jerusalem: The Center for Research on Moroccan Jewry, 1975-76,
vol. II, 293-294, Hebrew.
35. See note 1.
36. See note 6 (pp. 209-210).
37. Ibid., 211-215.
38. See note 7 (p. 57).
39. On this point see Katzman, “The Cache Was in the Daughters Teddy Bear.”
40. See note 7 (pp. 61-64).
41. Menachem Gil cad, The Zionist Youth Movements in the Moroccan Under-
groundy Hebrew. Unpublished report brought to my attention by Shlomo
Havilio.
42. See note 1.

43. Ibid.
44. See notes 2 and 41.
45. See note 1.
46. See note 2.
47. Ibid.
48. See note 6 (pp. 122-125).
49. Ibid.
50. Ibid., pp. 159-160; Dov Goldstein, “The Exploits of Alex the Mossad’s Man
in Morocco,” Ma cariv, 21 August 1981, Hebrew.
51. See note 6 (p. 160).
52. Ibid., 237-238.
53. Ibid., 238.
54. Ibid., 241. This subject cannot be elaborated upon given the sensitivity of
Moroccan-Israeli relations as well as due to the intricacies of Arab politics.
55. Emissaries in Morocco, October 1962-April 1963, CZA, L10/849, Hebrew;
Hayim Halahmi to Yehuda Dominitz, Paris, 21 September 1966, Hebrew.
56. Testimony by Menachem Gil cad, in: Symposium on the North African
Jewish Underground, Tel-Aviv, July 1987, Hebrew.
57. Principles in the Selective cAliya, no date [1963], CZA, S65/204, Hebrew.
58. See note 1.
59. Morocco Reports, 1961, Arch.AJDC/New York, #58.
60. Goldstein, “The Exploits of Alex the Mossad*s Man in Morocco.”
61. See note 6 (pp. 249-250).
62. Shragai to Eshkol, Jerusalem, 22 July 1963, CZA, S65/204, Hebrew.
63. Duvdevani to Shragai, Jerusalem, 22 February 1964, CZA, S65/204, He
brew.
64. Havilio had overheard the discussion between Ambassador Tsur by hiding in
the next room (interview with Havilio).
65. Ibid.
66. Moshe Yuval to Yehuda Dominitz in Paris, 19 August 1963, CZA, L10/
Operation Yakhin, Hebrew.
67. Dominitz to Shragai and Duvdevani, Jerusalem, 11 March 1965, CZA, S65/
113, Hebrew.
68. Ibid.
69. Hayim Halahmi to Dominitz in Paris, 21 September 1966, CZA, L10/Paris
Office.
70. Shragai to Sharett, Jerusalem, 22 February 1965, CZA, S65/112, Hebrew.
71. See note 69.
72. Ibid., letter dated 21 December 1966.
73. American Jewish Committee Report on the Position o f the Jew sy by Abraham
Karlikow, 29 June 1967.
74. Ibid.
75. Ibid.
76. al-Masc?t 22 June 1967, Arabic.
77. See note 73.

78. Ibid.
79. Ibid.
80. Ibid.
81. Ibid.
82. Ibid.
83. The American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee 1970, Overseas Program
Conference, New York, 12-13 October 1970, Arch. AJDC/Jerusalem, 430B.
84. The Jews of Morocco in 1968: Annual AJDC Report, Arch. AJDC/Jerusalem,
Mor.I/23B.
85. Stanley Abramovitch: Report on Visit to Morocco, 7-17 October 1969,
Arch. AJDC/Jerusalem, 402B/AIU Files 1968/70.
86. Alliance Israélite Universelle, Paris: Réunion du 3 février 1970, Arch. AJDC/
Jerusalem, 401A/AIU Files.
87. Ibid.
88. Annual AJDC Report, 1970-71, Arch. AJDC/Jerusalem, Mor.I/23B.
89. Jacques Khalifi, AJDC-Casablanca, to Theodore Feder in Geneva, 22 August
1972, Arch.AJDC/Jerusalem, Mor.I/23B.
90. cAbbâs al-Kissî à Dr. Nahum Goldmann, Rabat, 14 novembre 1973, CZA,
Z6/2441.
91. Stanley Abramovitch, Report on Visit to Morocco, 18-25 March 1974,
Arch.AJDC/Jerusalem, 247B/43.720.
92. Ibid.
93. The Washington Post, 25 November 1976; see also “Le Maroc réitère son
appel pour le retour des juifs marocains/’ L ’Opinion, 24 November 1976.
94. Yedi côt Ahrônôt, Weekend Supplement, 29 September 1978, Hebrew.
95. The New York Times, 18 April 1979.
96. Stanley Abramovitch, Report on Visit to Morocco, 28 November-8 Decem
ber 1977, Arch.AJDC/Jerusalem, 258B.
8. Tunisia's Struggle and Tunisian Jewry

1. The Destour, known since the 1930s as the Vieux Destour, collaborated in
subsequent years with conservative Islamic circles including the Zeituna—
the rough equivalent of the Qarawîyîn in Fez and Al-Azhar in Cairo.
2. Pessah Shinar, “The Nationalist Struggle in Tunisia,” Hamizrah he-Hadash,
4, no. 2 (1952-53), 70-71, Hebrew.
3. Ibid., 73.
4. Hached was assassinated by French terrorists in December 1952.
5. Shinar, “The Nationalist Struggle in Tunisia,” 76-79; Clement Moore, Poli
tics in North Africa, Boston: Little, Brown, 1970, 70-71.
6. N. Bar-Giora, Visit to Tunisia, Spring 1950, to Immigration Department,
Jerusaslem, CZA, S6/6006, Hebrew.
7. Stanley Abramovitch on Education in Tunis, Visit of 6-13 November 1952,
Arch. AJDC/Jerusalem, 10C.
8. Ibid.
9. Ibid.
10. Henry L. Levy, “Tunisia,” A/YB, 56(1955), 440-441.
11. See note 6.
12. G. M. Riegner, Rapport sur la situation en Tunisie: 14-16 juin 1952, stride-
ment confidentielle, Paris, 20 juin 1952, ISA, FM 268/11. Riegner suggested
that the gendarme may have been a Tunisian. Other eyewitness accounts
and the nationalists indicate he was a Frenchman.
13. Ibid.
14. See, for instance, A. Ayalon, Marseilles, to Foreign Ministry, 20 June 1952,
ISA, FM 268/11, Hebrew. Most reports and accounts noted the role of the
Jewish youths in defending the Jewish community by repulsing the attackers.
15. Riegner, Rapport sur la situation en Tunisie.
16. Ibid.
17. Ibid.
18. Ibid.
19. Première conférence nord-africaine du congrès juif mondial (7-10 juin 1952),
Alger, Arch.CJM/Lazarus P164/27.
20. Ibid.
21. Ibid.
22. Ibid. According to Charles Sa'ada, one of the leading Jewish personalities in
Tunisia and president of the rival Sfax federation, his position on reforms in
Tunisia was:
Nous sommes absolument opposés aux réformes telles qu elles ont été présentées par
les Tunisiens, car le jour où la souverainété française viendrait à disparaître, la position
des israélites en Tunisie deviendrait intenable. Il y a bien quelques personalités
israélites tunisiens qui font de la surenchère en faveur des réformes mais il semble
quelles jouent là un jeu dangereux pour la collectivité. (We are absolutely opposed to
the reforms such as they have been presented by the Tunisians, for the day that
French sovereignty disappears, the position of the Jews in Tunisia will become unten
able. There are, of course, some well-known Tunisian Jews who are making a higher
bid in favor of reforms, but it seems they are playing a dangerous game there for the
community as a whole.)
Charles Sa cada à Jacques Lazarus, Sfax, 8 janvier 1952, Arch.CJM/Lazarus

P164/117.
23. Rapport, confidentielle, Marseilles, 22 août 1952, ISA, FM 163/13.
24. The bey refused to accept the proposals but finally agreed to affix his seal to
them in December 1952.
25. Maurice Fischer, Rapport, 25 septembre 1952, ISA, FM 163/13. Fischer
noted that he could not pinpoint Haddad’s personal views, and the latter
claimed to be describing the position of the Tunis Jewish community leader
ship: “les Juifs, tout en se solidarisant avec les Tunisiens ont conseillé la
poursuivre des entretiens bilatéraux.” (The Jews, while siding with the
Tunisians, have recommended pursuing bilateral talks).
26. Charles Sa cada à Jacques Lazarus, Sfax, 4 août 1954, Arch.CJM/Lazarus

P164/117.
27. Maurice Perlzweig, North Africa— Developments in Morocco and Tunisia
(restricted), 25 September 1955, Archives of the Diaspora Research Institute
of Tel-Aviv University (ADRI hereafter), Al/104.
28. Ibid.
29. Nouvelles juives mondiales de Paris, 30 December 1955, 3.
30. Le Monde Economique, 12 April 1955, 51.
31. Between 1947-48 and 1970, of the 95,000 Jews who once lived in Tunisia,
50,182 settled in Israel while the rest emigrated to France or remained in
Tunisia. See Shlomo Barad, Le mouvement sioniste en Tunisie, Ramat-Ef cal:
Yad Tabenkin and ha-Kibbutz ha-Meuhad, 1980, 6-61.
32. Yehuda Dominitz to Weingarten, Jerusalem, 9 December 1957, CZA, S6/
235 (2226/732), Hebrew.
33. Elie-Eugène Guetta à Yitshak Raphael, Tunis, 15 décembre 1949, CZA, S6/
232.
34. A. Baslavsky and A. >Ofîr to the Jewish Agency's Immigration Department
in Jerusalem, no date, CZA, S6/232, Hebrew.
35. Ephraim Shilo (Shultz), to Yitshak Raphael, Mossad LecAliya/Paris, 23 May
1949, CZA, S6/232, Hebrew.
36. Ibid.
37. Ibid.
38. Ibid.
39. Nahum Dwinger to Lutek, Tunis, 16 March 1950, CZA, S6/232, Hebrew.
40. Chaim 5Ofek to Dwinger, Paris, 13 June 1950, CZA, L10/503, Hebrew.
4L Dwinger to Raphael, Tunis, 23 June 1950, CZA, L10/503, Hebrew.
42. Interview with Gid ceon Rafael, Jerusalem, 10 March 1986, Hebrew.
43. See note 4L
44. Dwinger to 5Ofek, Paris, 18 March 1951, CZA, L10/633, Hebrew.
45. Dwinger to Ungar, Tunis, 24 June 1952, CZA, S6/6008, Hebrew.
46. Ibid.
47. Protocol of the Meeting of the Jewish Agency Directors and Physicians,
Paris, 23-25 December 1952, CZA, S6/47, Hebrew.
48. On this point see Hayyim Sacadon, Organizing Aliya from Central Tunisia,
1954-1957, Tel-Aviv: Everyman’s University, 1986, 5, 11-12, Hebrew.
49. Report by Dr. S. Betish on Visit to North Africa [late 1953 or early 1954],
ISA, FM 2388/13, Hebrew.
50. Protocols of the Mossad le-Te5um, Jerusalem, 20 July 1954, CZA, S42/253,
Hebrew.
51. Markuse toTsur, Tunis, 8 July 1954, ISA, FM 168/11, Hebrew.
52. Ibid.
53. Ibid.
54. Markuse to Tsur, Tunis, 27 July 1954, ISA, FM 168/11, Hebrew.
55. Ibid.
56. Markuse to an emissary in Sfax, 15 April 1955. I am grateful to Hayyim Sa
cadon, researcher on North African Jewry, for the use of this letter from his
personal archive.
57. Levy, “Tunisia,” 461-462.
58. cAkiva Levinski, Report on Morocco and Tunisia, Israeli Embassy, Paris, 8
August 1954, ISA, FM 103/13B, English.
59. Henry L. Levy to Herbert Katzki, Tunis, 7 December 1955, Arch.AJDC/
Jerusalem, 20A/0-1022“C.”
60. Interview with Yaïr Douer, Ramat-EPal, Israel, 25 January 1987, Hebrew.
61. Les enfants d ’Oslo, published by Yad-Tabenkin, the Histadrut, and the
Union des Juifs Originaires de Tunisie en Israël, 1989, 5-6.
62. Ibid., 5-6.
63. Ibid.
64. Ibid., 33.
65. Ibid.
66. Ibid., 47.
67. On Yaïr Douer’s work in Egypt, see Michael M. Laskier, The Jews o f Egypt,
1920-1970: In the Midst o f Zionism, Anti-Semitism and the Middle East
Conflict, New York: New York University Press, 1992, chapter 4.
68. Yaïr Douer to David Umansky, Tunis, 9 December 1952, CZA, L58/44,
Hebrew.
69. Interview with Yaïr Douer.
70. Ibid.
71. Ibid.
72. Mordechai Beitan, Report on Visit to Tunis, 12 June 1950, ILA, 104IV/101,
Hebrew.
73. Ephraim Ben-Hayyim (Friedman), “The Erets-Yisrael Mission to North Af
rica: The First Phase— 1943-1948/49,” Symposium on the North African
Jewish Underground, Tel-Aviv, July 1987, 5, Hebrew.
74. Ibid., 11-13.
75. Israel Geshur to Dr. Avraham Nadad, Paris, 13 November 1950, ILA, 104V/
101H.
76. Ibid.
77. Ibid.
78. Ibid.
79. Gide con Rafael to Moshe Sharett, New York, 27 June 1952, ISA, FM 2424/
13, Hebrew.
80. Ibid.
81. Ibid. It is interesting that Charles Haddad had suggested to Maurice Fischer
how Israel should deal with the Tunisian question at the UN:
Nous devrions donner notre voix à la France dans la mesure où cette voix s’inscrirait
dans une majorité et nous absentir si la thèse française d’incompétence se révélait
perdante. Dans ce dernier cas, M. Haddad pense qu’Israël devrait agir en faveur d’un
projet de résolution qui inviterait la France (1) à affermir son intention d’accorder à la
Tunisie son autonomie interiéure dans le but d’aider son évolution vers l’indépend
ance; (2) à constituter une commission franco-tunisienne paritaire dont la fonction
serait d'assurer l'exécution du programme affirmé par la France (We should give our
voice to France to the extent that this voice will be registered in a majority and abstain
if the French thesis of incompetence proves to be on the losing side. In the latter case,
M. Haddad thinks that Israel should act in favor of a draft resolution which would
invite France (1) to affirm its intention of granting Tunisia internal autonomy with the
aim of helping its evolution toward independence; (2) to set up a Franco-Tunisian
commission on which both sides would be equally represented and whose function
would be to ensure that the program affirmed by France was carried out.)
M. Fischer à E. Najar, Paris, 25 septembre 1952, ISA, FM 177/6.

82. United Nations Bulletin, 14, no. 1 (1 January 1953), 23; 15, no. 5 (15 Novem
ber 1953), 468.
83. See note 79.
84. Ibid.
85. Shmuel Divon to A. Levavl, Paris, 3 July 1952, ISA, FM 163/13, Hebrew.
86. Emile Najar to S. Divon, Tel-Aviv, 21 July 1952, ISA, FM 163/13, Hebrew.
87. René Cassin à Sharett, 13 juin 1952, urgente et personnelley ISA, FM 2424/
13.
88. Ibid.
9. From Internal Autonomy to Full Independence

1. cAldva Levinski, Report on Morocco and Tunisia, Israeli Embassy, Paris, 8
August 1954, ISA, FM 103/13B, English.
2. “Le président Bourguiba a affirmé que le gouvernement Tunisien fera pour
les enfants israélites ce qu’il fait pour les enfants musulmans car ils sont tous
frères” (President Bourguiba has asserted that the Tunisian government will
do the same for Jewish children as it is doing for Muslim children, for they
are all brothers), Le Petit Matin, 13 February 1957, 1.
3. Z. Shuster to Maître A. Bessis, Paris, 18 July 1957, ADRI, A1/969.
4. Markuse to Shragai, Tunis, 10 January 1957, CZA, S6/235, Hebrew.
5. Ibid.
6. Added to his Egyptian and Tunisian opponents and his critics at home,
Bourguiba faced problems with Algerian refugees, many of whom were
armed. They crossed the Algerian-Tunisian border to escape French repres
sion during the Algerian struggle for independence. Most of the Algerians
were concentrated in northern Tunisia and they were a security risk, attack
ing French-owned farms and French military installations. Also, tensions
developed between Bourguiba and representatives of the Algerian Front for
National Liberation stationed in Tunisia. The aid that Algerians living in
Tunisia received from Egypt, including weapons, aroused suspicions in Tu
nisian government circles, considering that Nasser supported Ben-Youssef,
Bourguibas arch-rival. Bourguiba could not be rid of the Algerians, for any
expulsion policies would intensify the opposition against him in the Arab
world. He had to demonstrate some form of solidarity with Muslim Algeria’s
struggle against colonialism. On the other hand, one of the reasons for
Bourguiba’s deteriorating relations with France was due to his decision to

tolerate the presence of Algerian rebels on Tunisian soil. See Markuse to
Shragai, Tunis, 18 June 1957, CZA, S6/6009, Hebrew.
7. Markuse to Shragai, Tunis, 19 November 1956, CZA, S6/235, Hebrew.
8. Ibid.
9. Henry L. Levy, “Tunisia,” A/YB, 58 (1957), 351.
10. Markuse to Shragai, Paris, 12 August 1957, CZA, S6/6009, Hebrew.
11. Ibid.
12. Ibid.
13. David Assa* el to Duvdevani, Paris, 28 May 1957, CZA, S6/6009, Hebrew.
14. “Vive inquiétude en Tunisie au sein de la colonie israélite,” Echo d’Oran, 27
May 1957.
15. Markuse to Shragai, Paris, 28 August 1957, CZA, S6/6009, Hebrew.
16. H. Milstein, Visit to Tunis, Report of 20-27 May 1957, Arch. AJDC/Jerusa
lem, 10C.
17. Interview with Dan Kariv, Netanya, Israël, 15 September 1986, Hebrew.
18. Raphael Ben-Asher (Journo), The Shomer ha-Tsa Hr Movement in Tunisia,
Kibbutz Giv cat Havlva, 1980, 70-71, Hebrew.
19. Mouvement de la Jeunesse Haloutsique Dror, Paris, 12 décembre 1959,
CZA, S32/No car ve-he-IJaluts.
20. Interview with Shlomo Havilio, Jerusalem, 21 July 1988, Hebrew; see also
Joe Golan à Dr. G. Riegner, Secret, Paris, 23 décembre 1954, CZA, Z6/940.
21. Joe Golan à Dr. G. Riegner, Secret, Paris, 23 décembre 1954, CZA, Z6/940.
22. Ibid.
24. Henri Semama, “The Jewish Underground in Tunisia,” Symposium on the
North African Jewish Underground, Tel-Aviv, July 1987, 33-34, Hebrew.
25. Ibid.
26. Yitshak Yeger, Immigration Department, Office for Europe and North Af
rica, Geneva, Report on Visit to Tunisia, 10 November 1959, CZA, S6/243,
Hebrew.
27. Zvi Heitner to Shragai, Tunis, 9 September 1957, CZA, S6/235, Hebrew.
28. Heitner to Eran Laor, Tunis, 23 September 1958, CZA, S6/243, Hebrew.
29. Eran Laor to Shragai, Geneva, 4 September 1958, CZA, S6/235, Hebrew.
30. David Izwotzki, “Impressions of an Emissary in Tunisia,” Symposium on the
North African Jewish Underground, Tel-Aviv, July 1987, 35, Hebrew.
31. Heitner to Shragai, Tunis, 25 July 1958, CZA, S6/243, Hebrew.
32. Heitner to the Jewish Agency, Tunis, 2 December 1958, CZA, S6/243,
Hebrew.
33. Yitshak Yeger, Immigration Department, Office for Europe and North Af
rica, Geneva, Report on Visit to Tunisia, 10 November 1959, CZA, S6/243,
Hebrew. In 1958 the Jewish Agency’s office for Europe and North Africa was
moved from Paris to Geneva. Of course, Jewish Agency offices dealing with
North Africa as well as the Misgeret’s operations, continued to function in
Paris and Marseilles.
34. Heitner to Shragai, Tunis, 7 October 1958, CZA, S6/243, Hebrew.

35. Heitner, Report on Meeting with Muhammad Masmudi, Secret, 19 Septem
ber 1959, CZA, S6/243, Hebrew.
36. See note 33.
37. Ibid.
38. Ibid.
39. Henry L. Levy, “Tunisia,” AJYB, 60 (1959), 260.
40. On these reforms see especially Robert Attal, “Tunisian Jewry During the
Last Twenty Years (1940-1960),” Jewish Journal o f Sociology, 2 (June I960),
4-15.
41. Memorandum on Tunisia: The American Jewish Committee European Office,
Paris, 18 July 1958, including official government documents.
42. AJDC Country Directors Conference, Geneva, Meeting of 18 September
1961.
43. Avraham Tirosh, “How the Mossad Rescued the Jews of Bizerte,” Macariv,
19 February 1988, 3, Hebrew.
44. Ibid.
45. Ibid.
46. See note 42.
47. Ivore Svarc to Ralph Spanien, Field Trip to Tunisia, 18 August 1961,
Arch. AJDC/Jerusalem.
48. See note 42.
49. See note 47.
50. Talks between Easterman and President Bourguiba, 2 September 1964,
Switzerland, confidential, CZA, S65/113, The Moshe Sharett Files.
51. Ibid.
52. Easterman to Sharett, London, 27 November 1964, CZA, S65/113.
53. Easterman to Sharett, London, 17 March 1965, strictly confidential, CZA,
S65/112.
54. Shragai to Sharett, Jerusalem, 28 February 1965, CZA, S65/112, Hebrew.
55. Ibid.
56. “Tunisia,” AJYB, 69 (1968), 527.
57. Ibid.
58. Ibid.
59. Ibid.
60. Ibid.
61. AJDC Tunisia Annual Report for 1964, Arch. AJDC/Jerusalem, 403.
62. Stanley Abramovitch, Report on Tunis, Visit of 14-18 June 1965, Arch. AJDC/
Jerusalem, 242B/56.606C.
63. Stanley Abramovitch, Report on Visit to Tunisia, 6-15 March 1967, Arch. AJDC/
Jerusalem, 403.
64. Stanley Abramovitch, Report on Visit to Tunisia, 6-14 December 1967,
Arch.AJDC/Jerusalem, 403.
65. Eugène Weill, “Rapport moral: oeuvre scolaire,” Les Cahiers de ïAlliance
Israélite Universelle, 186 (October 1973), 27.
10. Algeria's Political and Social Struggle

1. Henry Laufer of AJDC in Paris, to Samuel L. Haber, Rapport sur VAlgérie,
6december 1955, Arch.AJDC/Jerusalem, 49B/56.208.
2. Ibid.
3. Ibid.
4. Ibid.
5. Stanley Abramovitch, Meeting on Thursday, 8 April 1954, with FCIA chair
man Benjamin Heler, Arch. AJDC/New York, 30. According to the American
Jewish Year Book, in 1957 approximately 8,000 youths attended talmüdè
tôrah in Algeria. We have been unable to corroborate or disprove this
estimate, although it is doubtful that so many pupils were enrolled in 1957
as compared with 1954. See Henry L. Levy, “Algeria,” AJYB, 58 (1957), 341.
6. See note 1.
7. Arye Lieberman to Jerusalem, 1 November 1951, Arch.AJDC/Jerusalem,
149B/Algeria Files, 1948-54.
8. Stanley Abramovitch, Report on Visit to Algeria, 18-26 May 1955, Arch. AJDC/
Jerusalem, 149B/Algeria Files, 1955-56.
9. Ibid.
10. Henry L. Levy, “Algeria,” AJYB, 58 (1957), 341.
11. CZA, S6/264, Hebrew.
12. Ya cakov Hasan to Shragai, Algiers, 6 January 1958, CZA, S6/236, Hebrew.
13. David C. Gordon, The Passing o f French Algeria, Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 1966, 49-50. Whereas Algeria became a virtual colony of France
through conquest and direct French central rule, the French protectorates
of Morocco and Tunisia continued to be led by indigenous rulers and insti
tutions, albeit under French supervision.
14. Ibid., 50-51.
15. Ibid., 51-52.
16. Ibid., 52.
17. Ibid., 53-54; see also, Michael M. Laskier, “The Evolution of Zionist Activ
ity in the Jewish Communities of Morocco, Tunisia and Algeria: 1897-1947,”
Studies in Zionism, 8 (Autumn 1983), 235.
18. Joseph Fischer à KKL-Jerusalem, Paris, 26 février 1947, CZA, S25/5220.
19. See note 13 (pp. 55-59).
20. Stanley Abramovitch to Charles H. Jordan, Report on Algeria, Paris, 11 June
1956, Arch.AJDC/Jerusalem, 149B Algeria Files.
21. Ibid.
22. Henry L. Levy, “Algeria,” AJYB, 60 (1959), 277-278.
23. Samuel Levy à Henry L. Levy, Constantine, 8 juin 1956, Arch.AJDC/
Jerusalem, 149B.
24. The Jewish Chronicle, 18 May 1956.
25. La Dépêche de Constantine, 15 May 1956.
26. Le Journal dAlger, 16 May 1956.
27. Testimony by Itzik Baer, a former Israeli in charge of the Misgeret in
Constantine between 1957 and 1962, in: Symposiums on the North African
Jewish Underground, 19 November 1987 and 13 June 1988, 22-23, Hebrew.
28. Ibid., 23.
29. Ibid.
30. Interview with Shlomo Havilio, Jerusalem, 21 July 1988, Hebrew.
31. See note 27.
33. Ibid.
34. AJDC Country Directors Conference, Twentieth Annual Meeting, Hôtel du
Rhône, Geneva, 27-30 October 1958.
35. Jacques Lazarus, “Algeria,” A]YB, 61 (1960), 332-333.
36. Henry L. Levy, “Algeria,” AJYB, 60 (1959), 275.
37. See note 13 (pp. 59-61).
38. On Ya cakov Hasan, see Shmuel Segev, “Operation Yakhin”— The Clandes
tine Emigration o f Moroccan Jewry to Israel, Tel-Aviv, Defense Ministry
Press, 1984, 96-97, 104, Hebrew.
39. Ibid.
40. Alex Doron, “The Mystery of the Israelis in the Atlas Mountains,” Macariv,
Weekend Supplement, no. 207, 8 August 1984, Hebrew.
41. Golan to Easterman, Rome, 2 March 1958, CZA, Z6/2211.
42. See note 40.
43. Golan to Easterman, Rome, 2 March 1958, CZA, Z6/2211.
44. See note 40.
45. Golan à Muhammad Yazld, Rome, 22 mars 1958, CZA, Z6/2211.
46. See note 40.
47. Ibid.
48. Ibid.
49. Alex Doron, “The Mystery of the Israelis in the Atlas Mountains,” Ma cariu,
Weekend Supplement, no. 208, 15 August 1984, Hebrew.
50. Ibid.
51. On Markuse in Algeria, see Markuse to Shragai, Algiers, 25 November 1958,
S6/1808, Hebrew.
52. See note 13 (p. 61).
53. Armand Kaplan à Dr. Nahum Goldmann, Paris, 5 avril 1960, CZA, Z6/1756.
54. Ibid.
55. Jacques Lazarus, “Algeria,” AJYB, 62 (1961), 357.
56. Information Juive, 4 February 1960.
57. FLN Document: Les juifs dAlgérie dans le combat pour lindépendance
nationale, édité par la Fédération de France du FLN, février 1960, Arch.CJM/
Lazarus P164/79.
58. See note 55.
59. Jewish Telegraphic Agency, no. 194, 25 July 1960.
60. Armand Kaplan à Dr. Nahum Goldmann, Paris, 24 janvier 1961, CZA, Z6/
1558.
61. Ibid.
62. Report— An Algerian Odyssey, confidential, 3 May 1961, AJDC/New York

(Algeria-General), 1945-61, File 28.
63. Ibid.
64. See note 13 (pp. 68-69).
65. North African Jews on the Move: Prepared by the European Office of the
AJC, Paris, January 1962, Arch. AJDC/New York, File 28.
66. Ibid.
67. Arnold Mandel, “Algeria,” AJYB, 64 (1963), 404.
68. Ibid., 405-406.
69. Armand Kaplan au département politique, CJM/Section Française, note
strictement confidentielle, objet— Algérie, Paris, 6 décembre 1961, CZA,
Z6/1588.
70. See note 65.
71. See note 13 (p. 68).
72. Le Monde, 9 January 1963; The New York Times, 26 May 1962.
73. Baruch Meiri, “A Ticket to Freedom,” Macariv, Weekend Supplement, 6
July 1984, Hebrew.
74. Ibid.
75. Ibid.
76. Ibid.
77. Arnold Mandel, “Algeria,” AJYB, 65 (1964), 329.
78. Ibid., 329-330.
79. Ibid., 330.
80. Inge Gottfarb, Report on Algiers, 2-31 July 1962, Arch.AJDC/Jerusalem,
50A/56.200.
81. Ibid.
82. Ibid.
83. Seventeenth Annual AJDC Overseas Conference, Geneva, 4-6 November
1962— Report by Maître I. Chouraqui.
84. Ibid.
85. Ibid.
86. Confidential Memorandum on Dr. Franco Lévi’s Visit to Algeria, 28-31
January 1963, by Herbert Katzki, AJDC/Jerusalem, 50A/56.200.
87. William Shapiro to Herbert Katzki, 21 February 1964, Visit to Ghar-
daïa, Laghouat, Djelfa, 13-16 February 1964, Arch.AJDC/Jerusalem, 50A/
56.200.
88. Ibid.
89. Joseph G. Hazan, Situation en Algérie, rapport du 31 juillet 1964, Arch. AJDC/
Jerusalem, 50A/56.200.
90. Ibid.
91. On autogestion, see in particular Gordon, The Passing o f French Algeriat
153-159; Daniel Guérin, VAlgérie qui se cherche, Paris, 1964; Gérard Chal-
iand, L’Algérie, est-elle socialiste? Paris, 1964; Mahfoud Bennoune, The
Making o f Contemporary Algeria, 1830-1962, Cambridge: Cambridge Uni
versity Press, 1988.
384 Notes to Conclusions
92. Franco Lévi, Rapport sur ïAlgérie, 21 octobre 1964, Arch. AJDC/Jerusalem,
50A/56.200.
SSS8
. Ibid.
. Victor Malka, “Algeria," AJYB, 69 (1968), 523.
. Ibid., 524.
. Samuel Lévis to Theodore Feder, Paris, 19 December 1967, Arch. AJ DC/
Jerusalem, 50A/56.200.
97. Victor Malka, “Algeria," AJYB, 71 (1970), 514.
Conclusions
1. cAbd al-Qâdir Ben cAbd Allah, “La politique française à Tégard des juifs
marocains," VOpinion, 29 August 1976.
2. See, for instance, H. H. Bensasson, (ed.), A History o f the Jewish People,
Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1976, 790.
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Index
eAbbâs, Ferhat, 298 25, 27-32, 59-60, 89-90, 93, 144, 149,
Abitbol, 1 154-55, 159-67, 169, 175-77, 187-88,
Abotbol (Avital), Sam, 266, 281 200, 230, 250, 258-59, 265, 285-86,
Aflalo, Albert, 189 289, 307-9, 313-14, 334, 345-47; and
Aflalo, Ora, 221 Zionism, 42-54; and Ecole Normale
Agence Association Juive Suisse, 296 Hébraïque (ENH), 158-65, 253; under
Agudat-Tsiyon (Zionist association in Tuni Vichy, 63-65, 68, 79
sia), 36-37, 43 Allouche, Félix (d. 1978), 38, 43, 45
Agudat Yisrael, 155 Al-Tabrïr, 2, 12, 197, 216-17, 243
Ahavat-Tsiyon (Zionist association in Mo Altun, Vitalis, 168
rocco), 32 cAmar, David, 191, 207, 242-43, 251
Ahmad Bey (d. 1855), 7 *Amar, Moshe, 266
<Aidan, M., 295 American Jewish Committee (AJC), 146,
Ait Ahmad (Mohand), Hocine, 318 172- 77, 194, 196-200
Aix-les-Bains Conference (August 1955), American Jewish Congress, 146
171-72, 177 American Jewish Joint Distribution Com
Akhbâr al-Dunyâ, 212-13 mittee (AJDC), in Morocco, 1-3, 68,
Al-cAlamt 97, 212-13, 216 89, 93, 105, 113, 118, 128-30, 140, 144,
Al-Amïn Bey, Muhammad, 288 146, 150, 152, 154, 160-61, 166-67,
Al-cArabï, 327 173- 76, 194, 226, 249; in Tunisia, 258-
£Alawï, Mawlày Ahmad, 204 60, 268, 273, 275, 278, 282, 289, 299,
cAlawï, Muçtafë, 213 301-4; in Algeria, 312, 314, 323, 336-43
Al-Fajr, 212, 214-15 >Âmir, cAbd al-ÏJakïm (d. 1967), 245
Al-Fâsî, cAlâl (d. 1974), 94, 177, 191-92, Amit, Ze’ev, 222
197 Amsellem, Moïse, 158
Algerian Provisional Government (GPRA), Anglo-Moroccan agreement (1856), 11
324, 333 Ankri, Yosef, 38
Al-Hajawï, Si Mubammad, 97-98 Annijcr, Yitshak, 132
Aliyat ha-No'ar. See Youth caliya Antébi, Moshe, 238
Al-Kifâb al-Wafanï, 212 Arab League, 108, 137, 176-77, 193, 196,
Al-Kissî, cAbbâs, 251 209, 213, 241-42, 296-97, 301
Allai, Yitshak (d. 1987), 275-77 £Arafa, Mawlây Muhammad Ben, 127, 171
Alliance Israélite Universelle (AIU), 2, 19, Arens, Moshe (“Misha”), 87
391
392 Index
Arikha, Yo’el, 315 Ben-Ammar, Tahar, 257, 264

Arslan, Amir Shakîb, 57 Benarrosh, Ralph, 215
Arukh, Shlomo, 230 Ben-Asher (Journo), Raphael, 39
Assa’el, David, 325 Benazeraf, Raphael, 145
Assayag, Yosef, 231-32 Benazeraf, Sam, 203, 207, 237
Asseraf, Robert, 253 Ben Badis, ‘Abd al-Hamld (Shaykh), 7
Asulin, Armand, 189 Ben-Barka, Mehdi (d. 1965), 169, 177,
Atali, Armand, 13 184, 189, 191, 197, 200
Atereth Tsiyon (Zionist association in Tuni Ben-Bella, Ahmad, 318, 342
sia), 36, 267, 292 Ben-David, Alexander. See Gatmon, Alex
Avenir Illustré, L' (Casablanca), 34, 84 Ben-Dov, Miriyam, 155
Avrahami, Arye, 131, 179, 181 Ben-Guera, Raphael (d. 1958), 315, 324-
Avrahami, Yitshak, 40, 76 27
Ayalon, cEzra, 222 Ben-Gurion, David (d. 1973), 148-49,
Azoulay, David, 189, 207 242, 279
Benjelloun, cAbd al-Qâdir, 182, 200
Baer, Itzik, 222, 321 Ben-Menachem, N., 179, 184
Bahure-Tsiyon (Zionist association in Tuni Bensadoun, Joseph, 13
sia), 36, 42 Ben-Salâh, Ahmad, 307
Balafrej, Ahmad, 98, 184, 194, 203, 209 Bension, Dr. Ariel, 34
Balfour Declaration, 32, 36, 84 Ben-Tobbal, Lakhdar, 318
Baranes, ’Ilan, 266 Ben-Youssef, Salâh, 257, 289
Baranes, Sauveur, 279 Benzaquen, Dr. Léon (d. 1977), 171, 178,
Bar-Asher, Shalom, 1 182-83, 192, 194, 200-201, 207, 231
Barbie, Georges, 239 Berber Zahir (1930), 26-27
Baretvas, Dr. Léopold (d. 1978), 86, 266, Berdugo, David, 187
281 Berl, Alfred, 46, 52
Bar-Giora, Naftali, 76, 238, 258, 281 Berliawski, Dr. Yacakov, 32
Barkatz, Paul, 13 Bessis, Albert (d. 1973), 263-64, 267, 281,
Bamai, Yacakov, 1 287, 302
Barouch, André, 287-88 Betar (Revisionist youth movement), 38,
Barpal, Yosef, 110 147
Batish, S., 121 Bialik, Chaim Naliman (d. 1934), 162
Baudouy, Robert, 134-37 Bigart, Jacques (d. 1934), 46-47
Beckleman, Moses W. (d. 1955), 167 Bijou, ‘Ovadia, 132, 315
Be’eri, Yitshak, 132 Bitton, Mas(Qd, 155
Begin, Menachem (d. 1992), 237, 280 Bizerte crisis (1961), 299-302
Behar, David, 48 Bled al-Makhzan, 9
Bejski, Moshe, 139 Bled al-Stba, 9
Bekkai, Si M’Barek (d. 1961): Pasha of Sef- Blocca, Yacakov, 334
rou, 104-5; close confidant of Sultan Bloc d'Action Nationale, 11
Muhammad V, 171; nationalist leader, Blum, Léon (d. 1950), 40
177; prime minister of Morocco, 182- Blumenfeld, Minna, 141-44
84, 194, 202-3; minister of the interior, Bne Akiva (Religious Zionist movement),
207-9, 211 143, 147-50, 204, 233-34, 279-80, 314
Bellahsen, Simon, 37 Bne-Tsiyon (Zionist association in Tunisia),
Bellity, Meir (d. 1975), 273, 279 36
Ben ‘Abd Allah, cAbd al-Qâdir, 346-47 Bohbot, Eliyahu (d. 1952), 259
Ben-Ami, Issachar, 164 Bokboza, Halm, 238
Index 393
Boker, Yacakov, 230 Club Géo Gras, 82-83

Borgel, Moïse, 73 Cohen, Alfred, 237
Bouchara, Charles, 314-15 Cohen, Ben-Tsiyon, 334-35
Boudiaf, Muhammad (d. 1992), 318 Cohen, Nessim, 307
Boumedienne, Houari (d. 1978), 342, 344 Cohen, Roger, 215
Bourguiba, Habib, 38, 203, 254, 256, 283, Cohen, Yehoshua, 132
287-91, 297-99, 301-2, 305-7, 349 Cohen, Yigal, 86, 281
Bourguiba, Habib, Jr., 305, 333 Cohen-Coudar, Suzette, 275-76
Bourguibists, 257 Cohen-Franco, Nadia, 261
Boyer de la Tour, Pierre, 256-57 Cohen-Hadria, René, 279
Brakha, Eliyahu, 269 Comité d’Action Sociale Israélite d'Alger
Brami, Joseph (d. 1924), 37, 42-43 (CASI), 339, 342
Braunschvig, Jules (d. 1993), 158, 165-66, Comité de Recrutement de la Main
200 d’Oeuvre, 73-74
Brunei, M., 94, 97-101, 105 Comité Juif Algérien d’Etudes Sociales
Brunschvig, Robert, 38 (CJAES), 319, 328-30
Bü'Abîd, *Abd al-Rahman, 191, 195-97 Comité Révolutionnaire pour l’Unité et
Bulletin de la Fédération des Sociétés l’Action (CRUA), 7
Juives d'Algérie (BFSJA, Algiers), 41 Confino, Albert (d. 1958), 53
Bureau d’Action Sociale de la Ville Conseil des Communautés Israélites du
d'Alger, 336-37 Maroc (CCIM), 14, 186, 189, 194-95,
198, 205-8, 251
Cadima (Mossad Le1Aliya Bet, Jewish Consistoires, 13, 312, 335, 339, 344
Agency Immigration Department appa Consultative Council of Jewish Organiza
ratus in Morocco), 111-13, 118-20, tions (CCJO), 176
128-44, 145, 165, 177-85, 239, 267, Contrôleurs civils, 10-11; and anti-Semi
291, 315 tism, 71-72
Cagan, Solomon, 34, 145 Convention of Marsa (1881), 8
Cahiers du Betar, Les (Tunis), 38 Coordinating Commission (Mossad le-
Calamaro, Paul, 86, 145-46 Te’um): in Morocco, 119, 122-23, 127-
Cambous (youth caliya facility in France), 28; in Tunisia, 269-70, 273-74
140, 275 Crémieux Decree (24 October 1870), 2 3 -
Carr, Maurice, 120 24, 26, 28, 41, 45, 58, 76-77, 328, 330;
Casablanca Conference, 203-6 temporary abrogation of, under Vichy,
Cassin, René (d. 1976), 158, 165-66, 250, 76-81
285-86
Cattan, Victor (d. 1944), 37 Dadon, 315
Cazès-Benatar, Hélène, 156, 268 Dahan, Jacques, 186
Celler, Emanuel, 283 Dani, Shalom, 230
Challe, General Maurice, 324, 328 Danon, David, 87
Chanderli, cAbd al-Qâdir, 325 Darlan, Admiral, 65, 81
Charbit, Joseph, 13 Debré, Michel, 300, 330
Charles Netter Association (in Morocco), De Gaulle, Charles (d. 1970), 65, 71-72,
85-86, 147, 155, 266 74, 81, 158, 221, 299-300, 318, 324,
Châtel, Yves, 81 327-28, 332-34
Chefs du cercle , 10 De Hauteclocque, Jean, 255-56, 263
Cherqui, Haim, 328 Département Educatif de la Jeunesse
Chouraqui, I., 338 Juive (DEJJ), 147, 151-52, 155,
Clark, General Mark, 82 234
394 Index
Department of Middle Eastern Jewry Fédération de Communautés Israélites

(DMO): in Morocco, 145, 153-57; in d’Algérie (FCIA), 13, 312-13, 348
Tunisia, 278-83; in Algeria, 313-14, 321 Federation of Jewish Youth in Tunisia,
Department of Pioneer Movements (Nocar 292-93
ve-he-Haluts), 145, 150; in Morocco, Fédération Sioniste Algérienne (FSA),
156-57 314-15
Department of Torah Education in the Fédération Sioniste de France, 106, 110,
Diaspora (DTE), 145, 161, 292, 313-14 280
Dessaigne, 105 Fédération Sioniste de Tunisie (FST), 34,
Destour party (founded in 1920), 58, 254, 37, 268, 292
261-62, 286, 290 Fédération Sioniste du Maroc (FSM), 34,
Dhimmis (protected minorities under Is 145-47
lam), 11-12 Fellaghas, 255-56
Divon, Shmuel, 133, 285 Fingerhut, Rabbi M., 312
Doron, Alex, 325-26 Fischer, Joseph, 318
Doron, Hasdai (d. 1991), 222 Fischer, Maurice, 133-34, 264
Douer, Yaïr, 277-79 Foder, Dov, 292
Dreyfus Affair, 46, 56 Franco, Francisco (d. 1975), 60, 106
Dreyfus-Schmidt, Pierre, 168 Friedman (Ben-Hayyim), Ephraim, 86-87,
Dror (Zionist movement): in Morocco, 86, 281
140, 204, 233-34; in Tunisia, 279-80 Friedman-Nesiyahu, Yehudit, 222, 234
Dulles, John Foster (d. 1959), 289 French National Front, 328
Duvdevani, Baruch, 180-81, 183, 242, French Protectorate (Morocco), 26, 29, 34,
325, 334 50, 66, 106
Dwinger, Nahum, 267-71, 274, 279 French Residency. See French Protecto
rate
Easterman, Alexander L., 168-70, 172- French Socialist party (SFIO), 279
73, 181-83, 195-96, 202-3, 211, 305-6, Front for National Liberation (FLN), 7,
333 127, 204, 214, 294, 318-22, 324-38,
Eclaireurs Israélites de France (EIF, 343, 349
French-Jewish Scouting Movement),
38-39, 147, 151-52, 162 Gabay, Moshe, 315
Egalité, V (Tunis), 43 Gaillard, Pierre, 326
Eisenbeth, Rabbi Maurice, 77, 81 Gal, Michel, 239
Eisenhower administration, 192, 226, 289 Ganem, Mathieu, 262-63
’El-'Al, Hanania, 281 Ganouna, Joseph, 43
El-Aqsa Mosque affair, 250 Gatmon (Gattmon/Guttman), Alex (d.
Eliav, Yashkeh, 236 1981), 204, 212, 219, 236-38, 242-43
Elmaleh, Isaac, 143 Gatmon, Carmit, 237-38
Elmaleb, Shmuel, 145 Gaudefroy-Demombynes, Roger, 30
Eshkol, Levi (d. 1969), 242 Gazette d ’Israël (Tunis), 38, 280
Esteva, Admiral, 72-73 Gershuni, Jacques, 110-12, 146-47
“Esther Zaltz Affair,” 155-57 Chez, Paul (d. 1972), 73, 86, 275, 281
Etoile Nord-Africaine, 57 Gil'ad, Menachem, 238-39
Ettinger, Shmuel (d. 1988), 1 Giraud, Henri, 72, 81
Eytan, Walter, 300 Golan, Joseph (Gouldin), 169, 181-83,
185, 196
Fahl, Georges, 331 Goldmann, Dr. Nahum (d. 1982), 169-70,
Farajon, Moshe, 295 196, 213-14, 251, 293, 333
Index 395
Gordon» Aharon David, 36 Ha-Pocel ha-Mizrahi, 139, 145, 157, 267,

Gordon, David C., 316-17, 324 271, 279
Gordon, Evlyn, 155 Harat al-Yahùd (Jewish residential quarter
Gordon, Y. L., 162 in Tunisia), 16, 28, 37, 260, 281, 294,
Gordonia: in Tunisia, 279-80; in Algeria, 297-98, 342, 347, 349
314 Harel, Isser, 179, 208-11, 218, 223, 225,
Goren, Zonia, 222 227
Gozlan, Elie, 40, 315 Hasan I, Sultan Mawlày (d. 1894), 25
Gozlan, Lydie, 274-77 Hasan II: crown prince until 1961, 203-5,
Grana (“The People of Leghorn”), 15 209-12; king of Morocco since 1961,
Greenberg, Yehuda, 294 212-16, 231, 241-42, 246, 252, 349
Grinker, Yitshak, 128, 132 Hasan, Jo, 191
Guetta, Elie-Eugène, 266-67 Hasan, Ya'akov (d. 1958), 131, 181, 315-
Guetta, Shaul, 112 16; and disappearance of emissaries in
Guillaume, Robert, 132-33 Algeria, 324-27
Ha-Shomer ha-Tsacir (kibbutz movement),
Hacam, Ahad (d. 1927), 162 38-40, 85-86, 140, 147-51, 153, 204,
Hababo (Amon), Moshe, 222, 281-82 233-34, 279-80
Haber, Samuel L., 152, 167-68 Hauzi, Victor, 259
Ha-Bonim (pro-labor Zionist youth move Havilio, Shlomo, 179, 218-20, 223, 225-
ment): in Morocco, 88, 139-40, 147-52, 26, 235, 293-94, 321-22
204, 233-34; in Tunisia, 279 Hayat, Isaac, 14
Hached, Ferhat (d. 1952), 255 Hazan, Avraham (Albert), 158, 164
Haddad, Charles, 12, 262-64, 273, 298 Hazan, Joseph G., 342
Hadj, Messali, 57-58 Hefer, Ya'akov, 292
Hadjes, Richard, 222 Heimon, Meir, 291-92
Hafsia Affair (Tunis), 260-63, 283-84 Heler, Benjamin, 13, 330
Hagana, 85-87, 168, 237, 281 Herdy, M., 342
Hajjaj, 3Ilan, 266 Herut (Israeli political party), 145, 280
Ha-Kibbutz ha-5Artsi, 147, 150 Herzberg, M., 291-92
Ha-Kibbutz ha-Meubad. See United Kib Hibbat Tsiyon (Zionist association): in Tun
butz Movement isia, 36; in Morocco, 32
Halahmi, Hayim, 239, 245 Hilperine, Wolff, 34
Halff, Sylvain (d. 1941), 47 Hovel, Avraham, 315
Halpern, Nathan (d. 1933), 34, 51-52 HusaynT, Haj Amin al- (d. 1974), 59
Har-Tov, Gershon, 292 Husaynid beys, 18, 24
Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society (HIAS,
also known as United HIAS Service, or “Ibrâhîm,” 321
UIIS), 109, 197-200, 212, 238-45, 249, Ibrâhîm, ‘Abd Allah, 194, 196-201, 203,
291, 301-4, 342, 347, 349 209, 212, 216
He-Haluts, 117 ’Idan, Meir and Shoshana, 266
Heitner, Zvi, 292, 295-98 International Committee of the Red Cross
Halevy, Sarny, 112, 269 (ICRC), 326
Ha-Magen ha-Datl, 281 International Zone of Tangier. See Tan
Hamel, Shimon, 222 gier, Internationa] Zone of
Hamel, Yehudit, 222 Interventores, 11
Hamiani, Ahmad, 195 Irgun Tsva’i Le’umi (IZL), 87, 237
Ha-No‘ar ha-Tsiyoni (Zionist youth move Isenbergh, Max, 172-76
ment), 88, 140, 147, 204, 233-34 Israel Defense Forces (IDF), 177, 230-31
396 Index
Israeli, Avraham, 152 Khayr al-Dln, 7

Istiqlâl (Moroccan Party of Independence, Kholtl, Muhammad al-, 58
created in 1944), 11, 92, 97-99, 101, Knafo, Meir, 221, 228, 230-31
124, 127, 169-71, 183-84, 186, 189, Kokos, 233
191, 194, 196-99, 201, 206, 212, 216, Kol, Moshe, 123, 139, 144, 169
246-47, 346 Kostenbaum, Akiva, 161
Ittibàd schools. See Alliance Israélite Krause, Ya'akov, See Karoz, Ya'akov
Universelle
Izwotski, David, 239, 243, 299 Lacoste, Francis, 94, 106, 108-9, 132-33,
135-38
Jabotinsky, Vladimir Ze5ev (d. 1940), 3 7 - Ladgham, Bahi, 283-85, 289-90
38 Laghzaoui, Muhammad, 179-80, 183-85,
Jarblum, Marc (d. 1972), 106-8, 110 193, 195-97
Jeanot, M., 299-300 Lapara, General, 102
“Jerusalem Certificate,” 161-62 Laredo, Abraham, 191
Jewish Agency for Palestine, 4, 35, 85-86, Laskier, Michael M., 1, 206
88-89, 103, 106, 109-13, 117-26, 163, Lavon, Pinhas, 293
166-76, 178-83, 195-96; and immigra Lazarus, Jacques, 87, 168, 214, 323-24,
tion selection policies in Morocco, 119— 328
23; on various departments active inside Lehman, Senator Herbert (d. 1963), 283
Morocco, 131-57; Tunisia, 265-86, Le Toumeau, Roger (d. 1971), 84-85
291-305; Algeria, 312-16, 325-27, 330, Lev, Haggai, 222
334-35, 349 Lévi, Dr. Franco, 339
Jewish Foundation Fund (JFF), 34, 36, Lévi, Sylvain (d. 1935), 42, 46
49, 51 Levis, Samuel, 343
Jewish National Fund (JNF), 34, 36, 47, Levy, Henry L., 323
49, 267, 280, 291, 315 Lévy, Samuel, 319
JN F Force, 38-40, 85 Lévy, Samuel-Daniel (“S. D .,” d. 1970),
“Joseph,” 326-27 145
Jouhaud, Edmond, 328 Lévy, Simon, 215
Journo, Ram, 294 Liberman, Ya'akov, 131
Journo, Samuel (d. 1952), 260 Lichtenstein, Fritz, 139
Judeo-Muslim entente, 187-217, 234, Likud (Israeli political party), 87
345-47 Lotan, Shimshon, 230
Juin, Alphonse, 92, 106-8, 110, 146-47 Lubavitch, 308
June 1967 Middle East War: and Morocco, Luzun, Ephraim, 38
246-49; and Tunisia, 306-7; and Al Lyautey, Louis-Hubert-Gonzalue (d.
geria, 343-44 1934), 9-10, 24, 26, 30, 34, 51
Justice, La (Tunis), 52
Maarek, Henri, 37, 42-45
Kadosh, Moshe, 222 Madina (Muslim section of urban Mo
Kaplan, Armand, 330, 333 rocco), 94
Kariv, Dan, 239, 243, 291-92 Madrid Conference (1880), 24-25
Karlikow, Abe, 172, 196 Makhzan (Moroccan government), 111
Karoz, Ya'akov, 92, 135-38 Mapai (Mifleget Po'ale Erets-Yisrael), 88,
Kassel, Y., 132 145, 271, 277, 279-80
Keren, Shim'on (“Arsin”), 222 Mapam (Mifleget Po'alim Meubedet), 147,
Khaklai, Ze'ev (d. 1964), 112, 118, 122- 152-53, 156, 279-80
23, 131, 134-35, 269 Marciano, M., 145
Index 397
Markuse, Shmuel (d. 1974), 270-74, 278, Narboni, André, 262, 314, 328, 330
289-92, 295, 327 Narkiss, Uzi, 300
Mattan, Eliezer, 128-29, 132 Nasser, Gamal Abdel (d. 1970), 131, 137,
Medioni, Jo (d. 1970), 158 192, 197, 204-11, 222, 248, 289-90,
Megôrâshïm (Jewish Exiles from Spain), 296, 301, 305, 349
11 Nataf, Elie, 263, 275
Meir, Golda (d. 1978), 208-9 Nazi propaganda, 56
Meiss, Léon, 330 Neo-Destour (Tunisian nationalist party,
Mellàh (Jewish residential quarter in Mo founded in 1934), 38, 58, 170, 254-57,
rocco), 14, 28, 63, 68, 71, 107, 121-22, 261-62, 283-85, 287, 297-98
127-28, 142-43, 148, 151, 154, 155, Nessim-Cohen, Chief Rabbi of Tunisia,
157, 174, 187, 190, 206, 221, 240-41, 307
252, 347 Nocar ve-he-ljaluts. See Department of Pi
Memmi, Albert, 40, 264-65 oneer Movements
Mendel, Arnold, 191-92 Noguès, Charles, 62, 72
Mendès-France, Pierre (d. 1983), 256-57, Norwegian Red Cross, 275
264, 272-73, 287, 328 Nos Petits, 259-60
Menuhin, Shlomo, 132, 230 Numerus Clausus, 63
Mestiri, Ahmad, 296-98
Metuk, Maurice, 299-301 October 1956 Sinai/Suez War, 289
Mission Universitaire et Culturelle Fran October 1973 Middle East War, 327
çaise (MUCF), 302, 307 Œuvre de Secours aux Enfants (OSE), 3,
Mizrahi (Religious movement), 86, 271 128, 140-41, 144, 146, 154, 200-201,
Modiano, Dr. Vidal, 330 258-59, 289, 299
Mollet, Guy (d. 1975), 257, 328 Ofek, Chaim, 269
Morilla, Francesco, 228 Ohana, René, 215
Mossad (Israel's secret-service organiza Ohana, S., 145
tion), 4 -5 , 139-41, 147, 152, 179, 196, Ohave Tsiyon (Zionist association in Tuni
204, 208-12, 218-53, 283, 293-94, sia), 36, 267
299-301, 321-22, 325-27 Ohayon, Elie, 266
Mossad Le-1Aliya Bet: in Morocco, 4, 35, “Operation Har-Sinai,” 300
76, 85, 87-88, 92, 102-3, 106, 109-10, “Operation Hiloula,” 224
112, 117, 121, 139, 153, 166-67, 175, “Operation Jericho,” 300
218; in Tunisia, 267-70, 281; in Algeria, “Operation Moshe,” 300
315 “Operation Yakhin,” 212, 218, 237-46,
Mossad le-Te5um. See Coordinating Com 349
mission Opinion, L\ 346-47
Mouvement pour le Triomphe des Lib Oren, Gad, 222, 239
ertés Démocratiques (MTLD), 97 Orfus, Jacques, 330
Mouyal, Elie, 148 Organic Statute of 1947 (Algeria), 317
Muhammad V, Sultan (d. 1961), 25, 9 1 - Organisation de l’Armée Secrète (OAS),
92, 124, 127, 171, 184, 186-88, 191, 331-34, 337
197, 202-3, 207-12, 222, 231, 349 Organization for Rehabilitation through
Murphy, Robert, 83 Training (ORT), 3, 28, 146, 154-55,
M> zali, Salàh, 256 200-201, 230, 258-59, 278, 289, 307-8
Ortiz, Joseph, 328
Nahon, Shlomo, 146 Or Torah, 259, 308
Najar, Emile, 285 0$ar ha-Tôra (OH): in Morocco, 28, 143-
Namir, Mordechai, 283 44, 154; in Tunisia, 258
398 Index
Oslo tragedy (1949), 275-78 Rossi, Alfred (d. 1943), 38

’Oufqir, Ahmad (d. 1972), 239-40 Rotem, Benyamin, 236
‘Ovadia, Meyer, 189, 202 Rouche, Rabbi Yitshak (d. 1983), 158,
161-63
Paix et Droit (Paris), 46, 52
Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO), Sacada, Charles, 13-14
307 Sabah, Alphonso, 146-47
Paquet, 240 Sabbah, Ferdinand, 322
Parti Démocratique d’indépendance Sabbah, Marc, 189-91, 207
(PDI), 177-78, 183, 186 Sâdât, Muhammad Anwar al- (d. 1981),
Parti du Peuple Algérien (PPA), 57-58 252
Parti Populaire Français (PPF), 57, 82 Sadeh, Yehuda (Leon), 87
Parti Social Français (PS F), 57 Saffar, Gaston, 13, 331
Passfield White Paper, 35 Saguès, Albert, 24, 42, 48-49, 53, 59
Paz, Gdalia, 139-41 Saint, Lucien, 36
Peleg, Elie (d. 1964), 153-54 Salan, Raoul, 328, 331
Péquin, M., 133 Sarfati, Abraham, 215
Perillier, Louis, 255 Çarfatï, David, 163-64
Perl, Anshel, 34 Sarfati, Haim (d. 1961), 228-230
Perlzweig, Maurice, 296 Schulmann, Zeidé (d. 1980), 34, 145, 168
Pétain, Maréchal Philippe (d. 1951), 76, Schuman, Robert, 106, 108, 136
81 Schweitzer, Solomon, 330
Pinhas, Léon, 47 Sebaoun, Paul, 82-83, 281, 315
Pisces tragedy (Morocco), 204-12, 221, Sebban, Emile, 158, 163
226-33 Segev, Shmuel, 237
Pocale Tsiyon, 110, 279 Sémach, Yom-Tov David (d. 1940), 48-53
Pogroms: in Constantine, 56, 57; in Semama, Henri, 294-95
Oudjda and Djérada, 91-102, 124 Service d’Ordre Légionnaire (SOL), 82-83
Polonski, Avraham (“Paul”), 87 Sétif massacre (1945), 317-18
Protectorate Treaty for Morocco (1912), Sha care-Tsiyon (Zionist association in Mo
173 rocco), 32
Shahar, Gad, 222, 238
Rabl, Amos, 112, 131, 177-79 Shapiro, Judah J . , 166
Rak-cOz, Menachem, 221 Shapiro, William, 339, 342
Raphael, Gid<on, 283-85 Sharett, Moshe (d. 1965), 123, 170, 176,
Raphael, Yitshak, 180 181, 210, 285
Rapp, Y., 132 Shari ca courts, 26
Rechtman, Menachem (“Rodi”), 233 Sharon, Shmuel, 239
Regev, Yosef, 222, 238, 321 Sharqui, Eizer, 315
Reinach, Théodore, 46, 52 Shemer, Natan, 230
Reisel, Dr. Benyamin (“Bertrand”), 235- Sheqel (Zionist membership dues), 32
36 Shinar, Pessah, 133
Renacimiento de Israel (Algeciras), 34 Shiran, Haim, 252
Réveil Juif, Le (Sfax and Tunis), 38, 41, 43 Shivat-Tsiyon (Zionist association in Mo
Revisionist Zionism, 267 rocco), 32
Riegner, Dr. Gerhard, 193-94, 196, 260 Shragai, Shlomo Zalman, 123, 131, 178-
Ronel, Ephraim, 218-19, 299-300, 321 80, 184, 211, 218, 242, 271-74, 289,
Ronen, Yosef, 238 305
Roosevelt, Franklin Delano (d. 1945), 83 Shu’avi, Moshe, 239
Index 399
Shuster, Zachariah (d. 1987), 172-76, 196 Union Marocaine de Travail (UMT), 197,
Sicauld, M., 133 246-47
Slim, Mongi, 305 Union Nationale des Forces Populaire
Smadja, Lucien, 41 (UNFP), 197-202, 205-6, 215-16, 245-
Smolenskin, Peretz, 36 47
Sokolow, Nahum (d. 1936), 36 Union Sioniste Algérienne, 41
Spanien, Ralph, 109-10 Union Universelle de la Jeunesse Juive
Spanish Civil War (1936-39), 59-60 (U UJ J), 38-40, 42, 85
Spanish Morocco (Spanish Zone), 31, 3 4 - United Kibbutz Movement, 85-86, 147
35, 58, 131, 180-81; and Spanish Civil United Nations, 284, 297
War, 59-60, 66 Université d’Alger, 38, 79
Spivacoff, Dr. Zeimig (d. 1932), 34 Uriel, Arye, 239
Stahl, Victor de, 26
Steeg, Théodore, 51 Valensi, Alfred (d. 1944), 33, 37, 42-43
Stillman, Norman A., 1 Vallat, Xavier, 55, 64-65, 77
Svarc, Ivor, 302 Vardi, Dr., 268
Syrian-Egyptian Union (1958-61), 197, Vered, Ya'el, 300
212 Vichy and Vichyites, 40-41, 158, 330,
Szold, Nenrietta (d. 1945), 139 348-49; anti-Jewish laws and policies in
the Maghrib, 55-83, 188; Algerian-Jew-
Tajouri, Reuben (d. 1960), 158, 161, 165 ish underground and resistance, 82-83
Talmùdê Tôrah , 312-13 Villa Gaby, 275
Tangier, International Zone of, 25, 31, 34, Voizard, Pierre, 256
50, 102, 131, 180-81; during World
War II, 68-71 Waknin, Rafi (d. 1961), 230-31
Terahem-Tsiyon (Zionist association in War of Attrition (Israel/Egypt), 250
Tunisia), 36 Weill, Eugène (d. 1981), 95-96
Thabault, Roger (d. 1979), 64 Wcizmann, Dr. Chaim (d. 1952), 42
Thursz, Jonathan (d. 1976), 34 Wilner, Menachem, 131, 179
Toledano, J. R., 145, 168 Women’s International Zionist Organiza
Toledano, Meir, 168, 171, 201 tion (WIZO), 258
Toledano, Rabbi Baruch, 163 World Jewish Congress (WJC): in Mo
Toltshinski, Chaim, 130, 132 rocco, 106, 168-73, 176, 177-85, 192-
Torah ve-cAvoda, 267-68, 271, 279 97, 199-200, 202-3, 208, 213-14, 218-
Tordjman, Madame, 118 19, 251; in Tunisia, 258, 261-64, 289,
Torres, cAbd al-Khallq, 59 293, 296-97, 305; in Algeria, 325, 333-
Touansa (indigenous Tunisian Jewry), 15 34
Tsecire-Tsiyon, 85, 266-67, 281 World Zionist Organization (WZO), 42,
Tsur, Ya'akov, 176, 273-74 93, 145-46, 153
Tubi, Yosef, 1
Tujjàr al-sulfân (“The Sultan’s Mer Yazid, Muhammad, 325-26
chants”), 18 Yeger, Yitshak, 297-99
Turek, Eliezer, 47 Yekhezkeli, Shlomo, 236
Yerushalmi, Nahum (d. 1961), 73
cUlamà\ 7, 262 Yordim (Jews leaving Israel), 124-25
Ultras, 331-32 Yoshevet-Tsiyon (Zionist association in
Umansky, David, 278 Tunisia), 42
Union Générale de Travailleurs Tunisiens Yost, Charles W., 196, 199-200
(UGTT), 254-55 Youssefites, 291, 349
400 Index
Youth caliya: in Morocco, 119, 123, 138- Zaffran, Dr. Ange, 314
45, 150, 152, 166, 169; in Tunisia, 274- Zaga, David, 315
78; in Algeria, 315 Zaga, Raphael, 315
Yuval, Moshe, 238, 243 Zeituna circles, 58, 261
Zeller, Marie-André, 328
Zabin, Carmela, 230 Zini, Chief Rabbi Simon, 344
Zabin, Yona, 222, 239 Zionist Federation of Vienna, 40
W IN N E R O F T H E 1 9 9 4 N A T IO N A L J E W IS H
B O O K A W A R D IN S E P H A R D IC S T U D IE S
PRAISE FOR THE B O O K

"[An] outstanding pioneering effort. . . . Scholars and lay readers with
an interest in 20th century North Africa, Jewish community life, Zionism,
and political development will find much here that is new and useful.
Highly recommended."
—International Journal of Middle East Studies
"In one fell swoop, Laskier has brought the history of the Jews of North
Africa up to date, and he has done so both in the originality of his schol
arship and the richness of his human interest material."
— Howard M. Sachar, George Washington University
In the first major political history of North African Jewry, Michael

Laskier paints a compelling picture of three Third World Jewish
communities, tracing their exposure to modernization and their
relations with the Muslims and the European settlers.
M IC H A E L L A S K IE R served as the Executive Director of the

International Sephardic Educational Center, and is currently a professor
of history and political science at Ashqelon College of Bar-llan University
and Beit Berl College in Israel. He is the author of The Jews of Egypt: In
the Midst o f Zionism, Anti-Semitism, and the Middle East Conflict, also
published by NYU Press.
N EW Y O R K U N IV E R S IT Y P R ESS
W a s h i n g t o n S qua re
N e w York, N Y 10 003

North African Jewry in The Twentieth Century 2

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North African Jewry in The Twentieth Century 2

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Michael M.

The Jews of Morocco,

“An eye-opening and compelling examination of the North African Jewish

Copyright © 1994 by New York University

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

New York University Press books are printed on acid-free paper,

Manufactured in the United States of America

Part One Political Developments during the

1. North African Jewry in the Twentieth Century:

2. Under Vichy and the Nazi-German Menace: The Jews

3. Zionism, Clandestine Emigration to Israel, and Its

Part Two Political Developments from the Late

4. Emigration to Israel in the Shadow of Morocco s Struggle

5. International Jewish Organizations and t h e cAliya from

6. The Self-Liquidation Process: Political Developments among

7. The Israeli-Directed Self-Defense Underground and

8. Tunisia's National Struggle and Tunisian Jewry: Jewish

9. From Internal Autonomy to Full Independence: The Post-

10. Algeria's Political and Social Struggle: Algerian Jewry's

Chief Rabbi Serero 17

The Sarfatl Synagogue 31

Moroccan Jewish Emigrants in 1947 103

Jewish Schoolchildren and Their Rabbi-Teachers 112

The Grande Arenas Transit Camp 136

Egyptian President Gamal Abdel Nasser 206

The Gulf of Alhucemas 229

The Pisces 230

The Victims in the Service of the Clandestine Zionist Operations 232

Alex Gatmon 236

Alex and Carmit Gatmon 238

Former Activists and Emissaries of the Underground 239

Moroccan Jews during “Operation Yakhin” 244

The AIU’s Ecole Normale Hébraïque 252

Tragedy in Oslo 277

The City of Constantine 320

1. Jews Removed from Administrative Duties 62

2. Monthly Rationing of Foodstuffs and Essential Products 65

3. The Jewish Population of French Morocco 67

4. The Population of Tangier, 1940-1941 70

5. Algerian Primary and Secondary Schools, 1941-1943 80

6. Jewish and General Alliance School Population in Moroccan

7. The B led Communities of French Morocco 90

8. Data on Y etida 125

9. Official French Statistics on cAliya from Morocco 126

10. cAliyat ha-No car in Morocco 141

11. Youth cAliya from North Africa 144

12. Financial Assistance from No car ve-he-Haluts 150

13. Ecole Normale Hébraïque, General Education 159

14. Ecole Normale Hébraïque, Jewish Education 160

15. Changes in the Jewish Map of Morocco 241

16. cAliya from Tunisia 266

17. The Jewish Population of Southern Tunisia, 1954 272

18. Youth and G eneralcAliya from Tunisia 278

19. The Jewish Population of Southern Tunisia, 1957 295

20. The Jewish Population of Tunisia, 1964-1967 303

21. cAliya from Tunisia, 1962 and 1964 304

22. Tunisian Jewish School Enrollment, December 1967 308

23. The Jewish Population of Algeria, 1956 311

24. cAliya from Algeria 315

25. The Jewish Population of Algeria, November 1962 and January

sity’s Diaspora Research Institute archives; Robert Attal of the Ben-Zvi

General Remarks about the Book

Few in-depth historical studies have been written heretofore on North

2. Present an in-depth analysis of three Third World Jewish commu

In order to understand the sociopolitical factors and concerns of twen

Maarek, Allouche, and other adherents of either mainstream or Revi

Banker, money-changer, peddler, broker of an agency for stocks or loans; invest

French Protectorate-sponsored schools had opened their doors to out