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I AM A JEW FROM EGYPT

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Chapter One

How did we, Jews, end up back in Egypt after Moses freed us from Pharaoh three thousand years earlier? This is the story and it dates back to the Spanish Inquisition. That started around 1480 and was in full force in 1492 around the time Columbus sailed the ocean blue. Some unauthenticated historical writings contend that Columbus and his crew were Jews trying to escape the Inquisition. My ancestors lived in the south of Spain, in Seville at the time. As the Inquisition progressed, Jews were given two options: convert to Catholicism, or be executed. My ancestors took a third way out. They escaped to Greece, and more specifically, Salonika. Greece had always been a haven for Jews, even during World War II, when they escaped from Hitler's Germany.

At any rate, they lived there for 400 years, keeping their customs and traditions, and speaking their version of the Spanish language, known as Ladino. I was told that my great-grandfather was Grand Rabbi of Salonika, so this is where my grandfather Leon, on my father's side, was born. He grew up in Salonika, and spoke Ladino, Greek, and Turkish. Since Greece and Turkey were at war in those days, he found it wise to learn both languages, giving him an edge in case either country had the upper hand.

At an early age, he became the overseer at a huge tobacco factory. One day he was approached by several of the employees who told him that they would strike unless they got a raise. There were no unions in those days. They convinced my grandfather that they were representing the majority of the workers. My grandfather presented their request to the owner who immediately called a general meeting. With all employees present and with my grandfather at his side, the owner asked the employees who wanted to have a strike, and for them to raise their hands. None of them did. In order to make an example, he publicly called my grandfather a liar, and fired him on the spot. Shocked and disillusioned, my grandfather decided to leave the country.

He packed light and was at the harbor early the next day. Travel was easy in those days. One did not need a passport or reservations. You boarded a vessel, paid for your fare and you were good to go. There were two ships about to leave: one was bound for Australia, and the other for Alexandria, Egypt. He chose the one with the shortest route, and ended up in Cairo a short time later. There, he opened a very small shop where he sold cigarettes, tobacco and other commodities, such as candy and trinkets. A glass counter was his store front. The sides and the back of the store had shelves stocked with merchandise he sold, and in the glass case were samples of what he had in stock. In those days, one sold cigarettes one at a time or in boxes; you had a choice. His cigarette store was located in EL MOUSKI, a very active commercial center in Cairo.

He met with a clothing manufacturer one day, and they became good friends. The man convinced him to get into the garment business since the dynamics were a lot more profitable than selling one cigarette at a time. From the start, business was good, so my grandfather convinced his younger brother Abramino to leave Salonika and join him as a partner in his new venture. The same man who helped him get in the clothing business helped him bid on the production of uniforms for the Egyptian Army. He won the bid and became the main supplier. It was ironic that a Jew became in charge of that. Word got around that he made the pants too tight in the crotch causing the Egyptian Army to lose every battle they got into with Israel. But these were just rumors.

My grandfather was standing at his store front one day, and he saw a beautiful woman walking by. He was taken aback by her beauty and followed her. He found out she was living only a few buildings from where his store was. Her name was Clara Yehiel, a transplanted Jewess. He started courting her riding a donkey, his only means of transportation in those days, and found himself standing under her balcony every evening until she noticed him. His ardor paid off. They ended up getting married.

In The Beginning

I was born May 6, 1942 in Cairo, Egypt, a Moslem Country. I was born a Jew and raised in French Catholic Schools. This is where all of the confusion started. In 1942, the world was at war and that same year, the German army which was allied with Italy, was disembarking in Alexandria. From what my father told me, German soldiers rode into Cairo on motorcycles. Since Egypt had been occupied by Britain for many years, the Egyptians were cheering for Germany and were looking upon the Germans as their liberators. Arabs were completely unaware of Hitler's feelings for them, and did not know that he considered their status barely above that of an animal. They did not know that if Germany occupied Egypt, their fate would be far worse than under the British Occupation. At the time, some unusual events took place. Mussolini, who was Hitler's ally and a megalomaniac, wanted to enter Cairo riding his white horse, like a Roman conqueror. The horse had to be brought in by ship. It took over three days to organize this affair. The delay caused Hitler's army a tactical disadvantage. The German army was held back just long enough for the Brit's and their allies to defeat Rommel in the Battle at the Bottleneck at El Alamein. The Desert Fox, as he was known, retreated. His supply line had been cut off and he could no longer get any fuel for his tanks. Rommel went back to Germany, his Panzer Division left to rust in the Western Desert. The Afrika Korps was totally defeated, never to return. This was a great day for all Jews and European subjects residing in Egypt. There was an estimated 80,000 Jews at the time. This significant event spared our lives.

First, let me start by saying that my birthday was the same as King Farouk's Coronation Day. He became King in 1936 and his reign lasted until 1952, when he was forced to abdicate after the revolution took place with Mohammed Naguib and Gamal Abdel Nasser in command of the Egyptian army. To celebrate Coronation Day, all the major streets of Cairo were illuminated, and there were festivities and fireworks everywhere, especially at MIDAN EL TAHRIR, the major gathering center in Cairo for important events. When I was of an age to understand, my father told me that the festivities were to celebrate my birthday, and I thought it was totally befitting. I grew up with a very healthy ego, and a strong sense of self. It was not until years later that I found out the celebrations were for the King. Upon that discovery, my ego was slightly deflated.

About King Farouk

This particular monarch was Turkish, as was Fouad, his father before him. At a young age (in his teens, it is said), he lost an eye, and the stories differ as to how that happened. Some said he was caught in bed with someone's wife and got shot. Others said he lost his eye while playing soccer. The shot in the eye was the preferred version amongst the people. Nevertheless his portrait adorned several coins, and his profile on these coins was the one with the good eye. Again, the opinions varied on which eye was shown.

He was known as The Puppet King. Since Great Britain considered Egypt one of its colonies, it had placed Farouk in power and was ruling Egypt through him. The man started out as a handsome young prince, and ended up dying of a heart attack at age 45 in a restaurant in Italy. His weight at the time of his death was over 350 pounds. After a coup d'état, perpetrated by Mohammed Naguib, and his second in command, Gamel Abdel Nasser, Farouk had been in exile since 1952.

Mohammed Naguib was the Commander in Chief of the Egyptian Army. He and Nasser, along with several other military commanders, decided to overthrow the regime of King Farouk. They surrounded the palace at EL EZBEKIEH with tanks and demanded the king abdicate in favor of his seven month old son, Fouad the Second, when he came of age. Not a drop of blood was shed. The king was allowed to leave Egypt on his 65 foot yacht, EL MAHROUSSA, taking all of his enormous wealth and his family with him. He had three daughters and his new born son, Fouad the Second, named after his father, and his wife Narriman. He left for the Italian Riviera, where he lived in absurd luxury until his death. During his reign, Farouk was surrounded by foreign ministers who kept him completely in the dark about the affairs of the country. They allowed, and practically forced upon him every possible indulgence, sexual, or otherwise. He was known to have a penis the size of a child's and was forever trying to over-compensate by having the most sordid love affairs and sexual encounters. His attitude was that of a spoiled child: totally immature and self-centered. He was a glutton with an insatiable appetite and was petty and vindictive.

My father had an opportunity to play poker with King Farouk because my father had written a book on poker called "Le Manuel Du Pokeriste". The book was written in French and later translated into Arabic, and had moderate success. It was eventually abolished by the Moslem Clergy because Egypt was a Moslem country and Islam forbade gambling or the promotion of it. The book contended that poker was not a game of chance, but required consummate skill and psychology. He proved it by keeping accurate track of all the games he played. He would average nine wins out of ten games. He had a group of friends who were Lebanese, Armenians and Greeks, part of the melting pot that Egypt was, and they used to get together four or five nights a week to play high stakes poker. There came a time when most of his partners refused to play against him, so he would advance each of them large sums of money at the beginning of the game to give them an advantage, and he still ended up winning.

The principle of psychology and skill only apply in a no-limit game, which is what he played, since a limit game takes away the power of bluffing. He had also invested considerable time and money studying the tells of his partners. A tell is a gesture or a movement, a crossing of the fingers, the shuffling of the cards in your hands, the raising of an eyebrow, the licking of the lips, or anything that a player will do unconsciously when they have a good or a bad hand. When one plays consistently with the same people, it becomes imperative to study their tells and my father had, giving him an edge. This is where the psychology comes in.

The day came when my father would play King Farouk and it was a dreadful and scary experience. From the start it became very apparent that the King was not a gracious loser. Every time he lost a hand, he threw fits of temper, pounded on the table, cursed, and threw his cards on the floor. My father understood right away that you had to lose to the King or the repercussions could be serious. My father was a merchant who was counting on import permits to conduct his business, and the King had the power to deny him those permits, putting him out of business. My father made sure he lost a sizeable sum, congratulated the King on his superior skills, and never accepted another invitation again. All is well that ends well.

My father owned several men's clothing stores, and we had a quiet life without too much excitement for a long time, but some stories my father told me were pretty surprising. In his time, as a young man in the twenties, it was pretty common for outdoor cafés to give a customer a Hookah, or water-pipe, laced with a complimentary piece of hash. Hash was pretty common in Egypt. The Brit's made it prevalent, accessible and inexpensive. They figured a people who were stoned would never be politically involved or try to overthrow a regime they disliked. A little background on Egypt's history might help one understand the tumultuous events that led to the revolution.

Before Farouk, there was King Fouad, Farouk's father, who was Turkish. Since the Pharaohs, the Egyptians had not been ruled by an Egyptian until Nasser arrived. The Turk's ruled them for 400 years and despised them. Napoleon fought the Turk's and the Brit's in the 1800's, but was defeated by Nelson, the British Admiral, at Aboukir. Nelson sunk his fleet by surprise, so Napoleon did the only thing that a selfish leader could do. He and his entourage left the entire French Army in Egypt and escaped to France. There is a little village between Cairo and Alexandria called Mansourah. When our family would travel by car from Cairo to Alexandria for our summer vacation, we would stop there to stretch our legs and have a meal. Well, that village is full of blonde haired, blue-eyed adults and children, so there is little doubt as to where Napoleon's Army settled.

At the French Lyceum, LE LYCEE FRANCAIS in Cairo where I continued some of my studies, we had a history teacher who practically worshipped Napoleon. He was a very expressive teacher who talked about history as if it were alive and reenacted every event and battle as if he were acting on stage. His passion made me develop a great love for Napoleon and I read everything I could on the man. One day I realized he was an egomaniac who ultimately ruined France with unnecessary wars and conquests to satisfy his own ego. He was finally defeated at Waterloo, in Belgium, and imprisoned on the island of Elba until the end of his days.

It was found out later that Napoleon died of arsenic poisoning. A sample of his hair was examined, and it contained 13 times the amount of arsenic allowable in the human body. His trusted wine server was suspected of the crime while he was held captive by the Brits. It is recorded in some obscure history book that the reason Napoleon lost the battle of Waterloo was because he had a terrible attack of hemorrhoids the night before and could not concentrate on the strategy of the battle. The fact that three armies converged against him probably had a lot more of an impact.

Well, back to Egypt and the Turks. One of the people who governed Egypt was Mohammed Ali who ruled from 1805 until 1848. He was a ruthless Albanian who put himself in power by use of brute force. At the time, Egypt was under the rule of the Mameluks, Turkish leaders who had occupied Egypt for over 600 years. They were defeated by Napoleon when he invaded Egypt, but when he, in turn had his fleet sunk in Aboukir by British Admiral Nelson and Napoleon had to flee, the Mameluks regained their power back. Mohammed Ali put the word out that he wanted to form an alliance with them and sent out an open invitation for a lavish dinner in honor of his son Tusun. The trusting leaders gathered at what is now known as the Mohammed Ali Mosque, or fortress. It sits, with 40 foot walls, in the middle of Old Cairo, and is nowadays a much visited tourist sight. It's a mosque and a fortress, and what that sultan did was one of the most outrageous acts of treachery ever recorded in history. When he thought everyone was there, he ordered the gates closed and had all of the leaders shot and killed by marksmen who were strategically placed around the courtyard where the dinner was supposed to take place. All died but one. Legend has it that he escaped by mounting his stallion and leaping down the 40 foot wall to freedom. However, some historical accounts say that this particular guy was late arriving, and while he was still on the road he heard shots, so he just turned around and took off in the opposite direction. Most people prefer the first version. It has more spice to it. When you visit the mosque, the guide will even point out the wall from which the horseman jumped. There is more to history than the truth.

My parents met through a matchmaker. In those days and in that part of the world, people did not date. My mother was from the Ventura family, a Jewish-Italian family. Her father Attillio Ventura had emigrated from Tuscany, Italy, in the late 1800's. Her mother, Gracia, was born in Cairo to Italian immigrant parents. Her maiden name was Mosseri. She had been married before to an abusive man and they had a son named Aldo who early in his life, became an orchestra conductor. Gracia divorced a couple of years later from her first husband (nobody talked about him) and married Attillio in the early 1900's. They had five children: Alberto, Guido, Lydia, Irma and my mother Ines, in that order. My mother, being the youngest was the most watched over, especially by Alberto, her oldest brother. He was extremely strict about watching over the girls of the family as was the custom for the older brother to do.

(Continues...)

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Excerpted from I AM A JEW FROM EGYPT by Aslan Ben Eliahou Copyright © 2013 by Aslan Ben Eliahou. Excerpted by permission of iUniverse, Inc.. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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