JOBAR, Syria: In this Damascus suburb, the handful of remaining Jews in Syria can again make pilgrimages to one of the world’s oldest synagogues where people from throughout the region once came to pray.
Syria’s 13-year civil war left the synagogue partially destroyed. Walls and roofs have collapsed. Some artifacts are missing. A marble sign in Arabic at the gate says it was first built 720 years before Christ.
Since insurgents overthrew President Bashar Assad in early December, people have been able to safely visit the widely destroyed Jobar suburb that was pounded for years by government forces while in the hands of opposition fighters.
Syria was once home to one of the world’s largest Jewish communities. Those numbers have shrunk dramatically, especially after the state of Israel was created in 1948.
Today, only nine Jews live in Syria, according to the head of the community, almost all older men and women. The community believes that no Syrian Jews will remain in the country in a few years.
One of the people visiting the Jobar Synagogue, also known as Eliyahu Hanavi Synagogue, on Thursday was gray-haired Bakhour Chamantoub, the head of the community in Syria.
“This synagogue means a lot to us,” the 74-year-old said during his first visit in 15 years.
Chamantoub had heard the synagogue was damaged, but he did not expect to see that part of it had been reduced to a pile of debris.
“I am frankly disturbed,” he said.
Chamantoub said Jewish people from around the world have been calling him to say they are ready to help rebuild.
He had refused to leave Syria during the war, while all 12 of his siblings left. He said he was happy in Syria and surrounded by people who respect him.
Chamantoub said he had been one of the few Jews who openly spoke about his faith, adding that he never faced discrimination.
He said other Jews preferred not to speak openly for safety reasons amid the animosity in Syria toward archenemy Israel and fears of being labeled spies or collaborators. The Jewish community in Syria dates back to the prophet Elijah’s Damascus sojourn nearly 3,000 years ago.
After 1099, when Christian armies conquered Jerusalem in the First Crusade and massacred the city’s Muslim and Jewish inhabitants, some 50,000 Jews reportedly fled to Damascus, making up nearly a third of residents.
Another wave of Jews later arrived from Europe, fleeing the Spanish Inquisition that began in 1492.
The community in Syria numbered about 100,000 at the start of the 20th century. In the years surrounding Israel’s creation, Syrian Jews faced increased tensions and restrictions. Many emigrated to Israel, the US and other countries.
Before Syria’s conflict began in 2011, Chamantoub and other remaining community members came on Saturdays to Jobar for prayers. He recalled Torahs written on gazelle leather, chandeliers, tapestries and carpets. All are gone, likely stolen by looters.
Barakat Hazroumi, a Muslim born and raised near the synagogue, recounted how worshipers on Saturdays asked him to turn on the lights or light a candle since Jews are not allowed to do physical labor on the Sabbath.
“It was a beautiful religious place,” Hazroumi said of the synagogue, which at some point during the war was protected by rebels. It and the whole destroyed suburb “needs to be reconstructed from scratch.”
Assad’s forces recaptured Jobar from rebels in 2018 but imposed tight security, preventing many people from reaching the area.
The new rulers of Syria, led by Hayat Tahrir Al-Sham, have said they will allow members of all religions to perform their religious duties freely. There have been some sectarian attacks but mostly against members of Assad’s minority Alawite sect.
After visiting the synagogue, Chamantoub returned to his home in old Damascus, close to the private Jewish school known as Maimonides that was founded in 1944 but has been closed for decades. Posters in Hebrew remain on the walls.
The area is known as the Jewish quarter. Many old homes have doors and windows closed with pieces of metal and a sign in Arabic saying: “The real estate is closed by the state’s Higher Committee for the Affairs of Jews.”
As the Jewish community has shrunk, it has also struggled to find kosher food. Chamantoub receives packages of meat from siblings in the US at least once a year via people traveling to Syria. In the past, he went to the chicken market with a Jewish friend who would slaughter them, but the man now can hardly walk.
Chamantoub mostly eats vegetarian dishes. Almost every morning, he cooks for himself and a Jewish woman in the area with no remaining relatives in Syria.
The woman, 88-year-old Firdos Mallakh, sat on a couch under two blankets. When asked to greet a journalist with “Shabbat Shalom,” she replied it was not yet time. “Today is Thursday and tomorrow is Friday,” she said.
Chamantoub, who makes a living as a landlord, asked Mallakh why she had not turned on the gas heater. Mallakh said she did not want to waste gas.
Chamantoub hopes that with the fall of Assad, Syrians will enjoy more freedoms, economic and otherwise. In the past, he said, authorities prevented him from giving interviews without permission from the security agencies.
“I am a Jew and I am proud of it,” he said. But with so few remaining in Damascus, the city’s synagogues see no services. Chamantoub is marking the eight-day Jewish holiday of Hanukkah alone at home.
