Scenes from a Baghdad synagogue

This fascinating extract from the works of Lady Drower, a British orientalist who spent some 20 years in Iraq in the first half of the 20th century, describes her experience of a Baghdad synagogue. Although some of the practices she witnessed still survive in today's Sephardi synagogues, the rabbis would most certainly today forbid lighting up a cigarette within the sacred walls! (With thanks: Eli)

Although a place of prayer, the Oriental Jewish synagogue is not merely a place of worship, nor does it replace a temple. As in the day of Christ, people come to the synagogue to dis­cuss, or to listen to, the Scriptures or to a rabbi expounding the Torah or Talmud. It is, in fact, a meeting-place, a platform, the position of which varies, is in no way particularly sacred. Architecturally there is usually little of merit, and an inscription in Hebrew forms as a rule the only outward decoration. I visited many synagogues in Baghdad and Jerusalem in the years before 1950, that is, before the great flight from Arab countries to Israel.

"I was surprised to find that in countries where literacy was far from universal there were not many Jews, even of humble class, who could not read, and most, although probably without understanding it, read Hebrew, a language as foreign to them Latin to an Englishman: in fact, Hebrew prayers and religious exercises such as the Haggadah are printed with an Arabic translation.

"I will try to describe one typical Baghdad synagogue. It was frequented by a prosperous community outside the old Jewish quarter; electric lights were kept full on, day and night, and on each globe was painted in Hebrew characters the name of a deceased person and the date of his or her death. Only a very orthodox family provided a qandil, kept perpetually alight for twelve months, for the benefit of the soul of a dead relative. There was much which accentuated the essentially lay character of the building. At a wedding, for instance, I saw sweets and coffee handed round and, although some rabbis had attempted to discountenance it, many present lit cigarettes. Before an evening service there I noticed a man distributing books to a few sitting down, whereupon they at once began to read in a subdued chant. These "books represented the Psalms divided into fifteen parts. If 15 pious persons are present, the whole can be recited at a sitting for the benefit of a person recently deceased.

"At the morning service, devotional exercises began when the hazan arrived and mounted the tribune. On the Sabbath and other appointed days the precious scroll in its silver folding case was taken from the cupboard in which it was kept, and as it was borne to the reading-desk, men pressed forward to kiss it or, after touching it, carried their finger-tips to their lips. The case having been opened, the scroll was displayed to all present and the passage to be read indicated by a silver pointer.There should be eight readings from the Torah, and in the Yemen, according to Brauer, these are actually read by various members of the congregation called upon by the hazan.

"In most synagogues in the Near and Middle East the 'reading' is nominal; the man summoned to the platform stands to the right of the hazan, who reads as his proxy. The privilege of reading the sixth, seventh and eighth passages is auctioned, and this singular practice is extended on days of High Festivals to all the readings. The first reader must be a cohen. I was present on such an occasion in Iraq. The synagogue servant, the shammash,walked round the synagogue like an auctioneer, calling for bids. As few cohens were present, bidding was slack. At length the shammash declared the result: a boy aged about thirteen had won the honour for about two shillings. The child mounted the platform, repeated the prefatory prayer in a low voice and then the hazan chanted the passage for him.

"The next reader had to be a lewi (Levite) and, after a similar auction, an old man obtained the privilege for a small sum. His successor was, by rule, an ' Israelite' and competition was sharper. A comfortably-built tradesman wearing a morning coat capped the bids with a sum equivalent to twelve shillings. Had the congregation been larger, bidding would have run higher. This auctioning, I was informed, could be traced back to a similar practice in the Temple of Jerusalem. As the hazan was not himself a cohen, that is a priest, he could not give the blessing to the congregation. When it is time for this, any male cohen, usually several, stands before the cupboard where the holy rolls are kept and, after repeating a prayer, wheels round to face the people, praying shawl spread over the head, upper body and extended arms and hands. As he recites the words of benediction he turns like an automaton from side to side without moving the feet. One who sees such a blessing for a first time cannot fail to be impressed by the stiff, uncanny movements of the cohenim and the muffled voices chanting beneath the shawls. The purpose is comprehensible : in veiling himself a cohen veils his personality and becomes, as it were, an embodiment of the ancient priesthood.

"So much for the setting of ritual drama as any outsider may see it, a few sharply contrasting scenes drawn at random from the storehouse of memory."