The City of Slights: From Paris to Jerusalem
By Michael Freund

The Jerusalem Post
January 3, 2003
Page B7

Amid a rising tide of anti-Semitism, increasing numbers of 
French Jews are leaving Europe behind and building new lives 
for themselves in Israel

For Shmuel D., the breaking point came in April, 2002.

"There was an election in France, and Jean-Marie Le Pen did very 
well," says the Parisian native, referring to the second-place 
showing of the far-right French extremist, who was challenging 
incumbent Jacques Chirac for the presidency of the Republic. 

"Afterwards, I saw that it became too easy for many people to 
speak out openly against Jews and Zionism."

Seven months later, on November 28, Shmuel was on his way to a 
new life in Israel.

A businessman in his mid-30's, Shmuel says that what motivated 
his decision was "a mixture of politics and faith. It was not 
only the politics, but that was definitely a factor."

Twice, he says, he overheard commuters on the Paris Metro making
anti-Semitic remarks. And while he was never singled out as a 
target for racial hatred, Shmuel says the overall atmosphere in 
France made him feel extremely uncomfortable, to the point where 
he decided to leave it all behind and make a go of life in the 
Jewish state.

In that respect, Shmuel is certainly not alone. Figures released 
this past Sunday by the Ministry of Immigrant Absorption show a 
sharp rise in the number of French Jews making aliyah. In 2001, 
a total of 1,157 Jews from France came to Israel. In 2002, the 
figure more than doubled, reaching 2,326, with the vast majority 
of them being religious or traditional.

Those in the business of encouraging French aliyah expect that 
this year, 2003, will match, and possibly even surpass, those 
figures.

"It is a little bit of a guessing game, but it may reach 3,000 
in 2003," says Mike Rosenberg, Director-General of the Jewish 
Agency's Aliyah Department. "Of course, that depends on lots of 
things, especially the economic situation. But we have the full 
cooperation of the Israeli government, which is a refreshing 
thing, and the Prime Minister talks about the importance of 
aliyah all the time."

Esther Touboul, Director of the Association of French-speaking 
Immigrants, agrees. "French Jews are very Zionist," she says, 
"and they come here for a variety of reasons. But every shock, 
every crisis in France, will certainly lead more people to make 
the decision to move."

Touboul believes that 2003 will see a similar number of French 
arrivals, along the lines of last year. "I think we will maintain 
the same pace of some 2,500 per year. It won't be tens of thousands 
all at once, but more will continue to come."

With over 600,000 Jews, France is home to the third-largest 
Jewish community outside of Israel. In the decades since the 
Holocaust, when the Germans murdered 110,000 French Jews with 
the help of Marshal Petain's collaborationist Vichy government, 
French Jewry has succeeded in rebuilding a rich and vibrant 
communal life. Paris is said to boast more kosher restaurants 
than any other city outside of Israel, and Jews have come to play 
a prominent role in various areas of France's public life.

Nevertheless, the community's confidence has been shaken in 
recent years amid an unprecedented upsurge in anti-Jewish attacks. 
These have included a number of highly publicized episodes, some 
of which have garnered worldwide attention. 

In 2001, according to figures released last year by then-Deputy 
Foreign Minister Rabbi Michael Melchior, there were 320 anti-Semitic 
incidents in France, or nearly one per day. The most frightening 
included a firebomb attack on a synagogue in the Paris suburb of 
Goussainville and an assault by arsonists on a Jewish elementary 
school in the southern city of Marseilles, which left part of 
the school in ruins. Otzar HaTorah, a Jewish educational institution 
located in the southeastern Paris suburb of Creteil, was also the 
target of a firebomb attack. 

The increasing frequency and severity of anti-Semitism in France 
prompted the Foreign Ministry on April 2, 2002 to call in French 
ambassador Jacques Huntzinger to express Israel's growing concern. 

While top French officials, including President Jacques Chirac, 
denounced the violence, they also expressed anger at accusations that 
France was an anti-Semitic country. In May, Chirac's spokesman said 
that he had warned Prime Minister Ariel Sharon in a telephone call 
that there would be unspecified "consequences" if Israel did not 
desist from labeling France as being anti-Semitic. 

While some French Jews, such as Shmuel, cite anti-Semitism, and their
government's tepid response, as having sealed their decision to make
aliyah, others offer a far more upbeat motive: a strong Jewish identity
and love of Israel.

David Adlan, a 29-year old cost controller from Paris, faced a difficult
decision. While still living in France, he was offered a job with an
attractive salary and good benefits, but after giving the matter a 
great deal of thought, he turned it down. "I chose instead to come 
to Israel and to change my life," he says, not because of anti-Semitism, 
but because he is a Jew and he feels this is where he belongs. 

"I saw anti-Semitism only once, but I don't think you come to Israel
because of anti-Semitism. If that is the only reason," asserts Adlan,
"then you can go to New York. I think the reason to live in Israel 
is because it is Israel. We are Jews, this is our land, and this is 
where we as a people belong," he says.

Adlan made aliyah on October 6, 2002. His two brothers also moved 
here, with one now a student at Jerusalem's Machon Lev, and the other, 
a doctor, living in Kochav Yaakov.  

Asked if he was concerned before moving about the tense situation 
in the Middle East, Adlan is firm in his response. "I was not concerned 
at all," he says. "If there is a war with Iraq, I don't think it is 
any better to be in France than to be in Israel, because the threat 
is essentially the same." 

For Rudy Cohen, age 22, and his cousin Olivier Inigo, also 22, 
the decision to make aliyah was as passionate as it was unexpected. 
The two had never been to Israel, until an April 2002 trip via the 
Birthright program, which brings young Jews on a free whirlwind 
tour of the country, awakened within them a latent sense of Zionist 
feeling.

Both Cohen and Inigo had grown up in Paris, giving little thought 
to the idea of aliyah. "I did not know Israel and I had no interest 
in coming here to live," says Inigo. "Then, when I heard about 
Birthright and the trip to Israel, and the fact that it was free, 
I thought to myself: If it is free, then why not? It is a country 
I do not know at all." 

The two cousins came together on the trip, and were immediately 
captivated by what they found here. "It was the first time that I 
had been to Israel, and I knew right away that it is the country 
of my life," said Cohen. "After the trip, I decided that I want 
to live in Israel."

Inigo offered a similar assessment. "The feelings and experiences 
I had in those 10 days were more than I had in the previous 
20 years,"  he says. "I returned to France with my cousin, and 
we decided that we wanted to make aliyah."

Shortly thereafter, Cohen and Inigo met Rabbi Yosef Atoun, 
a French-born rabbi who has lived in Israel for some three decades. 
Rabbi Atoun is the founder and head of the French-language 
department at Machon Meir, a religious-Zionist yeshiva located in 
Jerusalem.

Rabbi Atoun was in Paris to take part in what has come to be known 
as the "Salon", a periodic Jewish Agency-run fair held in France 
which showcases Zionist and Jewish programs for students. Though 
neither Cohen nor Inigo was religiously observant at the time, 
they jumped at the opportunity to learn more about their heritage. 

"After speaking with Rabbi Atoun, I decided this was the program 
for me, because at Machon Meir I could study Judaism and explore 
my religion," Cohen says. They decided to make aliyah in October 
2002, immediately after the High Holidays.

At first, their decision was greeted with dismay, and even downright
opposition, by friends and family alike. 

"My parents were very much against it. They were worried about 
all the terrorist attacks and about the situation here," Inigo recalls. 
"I was confronted with a flood of criticism. People would ask me: 
'How can you go there with all the terrorism?' and 'What about the 
economic situation and the unemployment?'"

Undeterred, Cohen and Inigo arrived here two months ago and went 
straight to yeshiva, with Rudy now going by his Hebrew name of 
Aharon, and Olivier preferring to be called Eliyahu. Both are 
enthusiastic about being in Israel, and they hope to convince 
their families to join them soon.

"I am very, very happy," Cohen says. "I want to bring my parents 
and my family here. They are in the first stages of tackling the 
decision, now that they see I am happy here." 

This coming Passover, Cohen plans to travel to France to try and 
persuade his relatives to make the move as well. "They are thinking 
about it," he says, "but they are concerned about whether they 
will be able to make it here economically."

Fears of finding a job, along with Israel's ongoing recession, 
appear to be of primary concern for those in France who are 
contemplating aliyah. 

"People know the situation here, in terms of the terrorism and 
the tensions about Iraq," says French-speaking Immigrants 
Association head Touboul. "But, practically speaking, what they 
are more concerned about is employment." 

Most French Jews, she notes, are well-educated, and many are
professionals. The challenge of coming to a new country and 
having to start over a career at a time of economic uncertainty 
is a daunting prospect for those toying with the idea of aliyah, 
she says. 

With this in mind, the Israeli Government in recent months has 
taken a number of steps to boost the financial incentives being 
offered to French immigrants, in the hopes that by sweetening 
the pot, more will be prepared to make the journey. 

Thus, at the urging of Deputy Absorption Minister Yuli Edelstein, 
the cabinet decided to grant an absorption basket to all new 
immigrants, including those from France, whereas in the past, 
such benefits had been given only to arrivals from what were 
known as "countries in distress".  

Similarly, this past Sunday, the cabinet voted to continue 
offering an additional array of benefits to immigrants from 
France and Argentina, above and beyond those already contained 
in the absorption basket.  

Touboul applauds the decision, saying that it will help to 
entice more French Jews to make aliyah. "Many have come because 
of the absorption basket. It is a good incentive for people, 
even though it is not a large amount of money," she said.

Arik Puder, Spokesman for the Ministry of Immigrant Absorption, 
was also pleased by the vote, stressing that it will facilitate 
greater aliyah from France. "We must encourage them to come to 
Israel and make it easier for them to do so," Puder stated, 
adding, "France is one of the main target countries, along with 
Argentina and the United States. With the mass aliyah from the 
former Soviet Union virtually complete, we must now turn our 
attention, energies and resources to other countries such as
France."

The Jewish Agency's Mike Rosenberg stresses that his organization 
is doing just that, expanding its outreach and activities. 
"We are increasing our efforts on both a national level and 
a local grassroots community level in France," he says, pointing 
out that the Agency has beefed up its staff and developed closer 
ties with synagogues and community centers in cities such as 
Paris and Marseilles. 

Special delegations, including "matzlichanim" (lit. "those who 
have succeeded", a reference to French immigrants who have 
'made it' in Israel) have been sent back to France to tell their 
story, and the Agency recently reopened its office in the city 
of Lyons in the wake of increasing demand for information about 
aliyah.
 
These efforts, Rosenberg hopes, will enable the Agency to reach 
larger numbers of French Jews who might be considering moving to 
Israel. Given the current climate, he believes, more in fact 
will be open to the idea.

New immigrant Olivier, now Eliyahu, Inigo, agrees with Rosenberg, 
though he insists on adding an additional incentive of his own. 
"The message I want to send to the Jews still there is clear and 
unequivocal: It is better to leave France when you decide to, 
than when others will decide for you."