Paramaribo: Jewish Excellence in the Face of Adversity

Exciting news: I have finally completed my final exhibit on Paramaribo, Suriname. I’ll attach a link below if anyone besides Laura feels compelled to check it out! Taking this class was such a fun, vibrant, rewarding experience, and I feel that a lot of that can be attributed to you all being such a wonderful bunch. Thank you Laura for such an amazing and informative course, and I hope you all have relaxing summers!

Final Project: https://www.artsteps.com/embed/608b1c4590c9bb02f3aab6d5/560/315

Works Cited: https://blogs.reed.edu/eng303s21/files/2021/05/Final-Exhibit-Works-Cited-.pdf

Augusta Curiel, Surinamese Photographer

A photograph of Augusta, courtesy of Wikipedia.

Paramaribo, Suriname, has an extensive community of Jews of Color, largely attributed to the intersection of the Jewish community and people of African ancestry during the slave trade. One Jew that made an impact within the Surinamese community was professional photographer Augusta Cornelia Paulina Curiel. Not much has been recorded about Curiel’s background, but it is known that she was of Jewish, African, and Dutch ancestry. She was born in Paramaribo in 1873 to a single mother and had one sibling, a sister named Anna.

A photograph of Curiel’s titled Bruiloft te Paramaribo, taken around 1903-1908. Courtesy of the Rijksmuseum.

Photography was seen as an intriguing work opportunity for Jews, as it didn’t require any previous study and allowed one to participate in the craft without needing permission from higher-ups in the community. Curiel ultimately became one of the first and most influential Jewish photographers in Paramaribo and ran a photography studio with her sister from 1904 to 1937. Curiel primarily photographed other Surinamese citizens, such as in the picture above, but she also took pictures of day-to-day life in Paramaribo. Curiel’s work was so impressive that she was eventually honored with the title of hofleverancier by Queen Wilhelmina in 1929. She even became Suriname’s first photographer for the royal house!

Another photograph of Curiel’s displaying Paramaribo’s rich culture.

As you can see from the photograph pictured above, Curiel’s work allowed others to have a glimpse into the rich cultural diversity present in Paramaribo. Curiel was not an anomaly by being a Jew of Color who was active within the greater Surinamese community. Suriname has long been a hotspot for Jewish diversity, and Augusta Curiel is only one example of the artistic and academic excellence that Jews of Color provided in Paramaribo.

Works Cited:

“Analyzing Photographs.” Jews Across the Americas 1492 – Present, 2021, jewsacrossamericas.com/interactivities-5/image-analysis/beginning-image-analysis/analyzing-photographs/.

“Augusta Curiel.” Wikipedia, Wikimedia Foundation, 5 June 2020, en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Augusta_Curiel.

The Intersection Between the Jewish and Caribbean Diasporic Experience: A Precis

In the chapter “Introduction: Crossing Disciplines, Cultures, Geographies” from Sarah Phillips Casteel and Heidi Kaufman’s greater text Caribbean Jewish Crossings, Casteel and Kaufman highlight the misconception that many academics have regarding the distinction and perceived separateness of Jewish and Caribbean cultures, oftentimes resulting in the erasure of the Jewish-Caribbean perspective in academic texts. However, with the historical presence of the Jewish community throughout the Caribbean colonial world from the start of the seventeenth century as well as “the weaving together [of] African and Jewish narratives,” Casteel and Kaufman suggest that there are deeper historical and cultural ties between the Caribbean and Judaism (Casteel and Kaufman 2). The significance of this chapter lies in its ability to draw attention to a culture that has been largely ignored within Caribbean and Jewish studies, ultimately allowing for room where further intersection of these disciplines can take place. Casteel and Kaufman argue that Jewish American literary studies needs to be internationalized as a field in order to best represent the lived experiences of Jews from diverse backgrounds; in doing so, they emphasize the impact of Jewish culture on “narratives of Caribbeanness” (21). 

One of the strongest factors of Casteel and Kaufman’s support for their argument lies in their constant highlighting of Jewish historical presence within the Caribbean. In laying out a clear-cut, purely factual timeline illustrating Jewish involvement in the slave trade and plantation customs, it becomes difficult to suggest that intersection between Jewish and Caribbean cultures is impossible. Readers are forced to acknowledge the “historical movement of populations across geographies and oceans” that allowed for the intermingling of of Jews and Caribbeans and the subsequent impact of such a connection on wider Caribbean culture (9). Furthermore, Casteel and Kaufman use this sense of connection and shared diaspora as “one of the fundamental linking concepts that carries across Caribbean literary culture” (10). There is no doubt that Caribbean and Jewish histories diverge from one another, but they share “a common narrative” in their pursuit for a sense of belonging within a world defined so sharply by ideas of colonialism, racism, and divisiveness (22). Casteel and Kaufman further support this argument in their careful analysis of racialization within various Caribbean communities, displaying that an individual’s sense of ‘Jewishness’ remains difficult to define in the face of colonialism and the potential for Jews to be both victims and agents of empire. I also was very appreciative of how Casteel and Kaufman clarified their argument in constantly asserting that Jewish and African diaspora are able to remain distinct and different from one another while still intersecting. They masterfully detailed the complexities of Jewish-Caribbean history while still addressing the nuances of each respective culture. 

A weakness I identified while examining “Introduction: Crossing Disciplines, Cultures,  Geographies” could be traced to Casteel and Kaufman’s section concerning the essays and samples of creative writing present in Caribbean Jewish Crossings. I was delighted by their prioritization of a “pan-Caribbean approach” when considering the Jewish and Caribbean literary legacy, but the following analysis read less like commentary on the significance of these texts and more of a laundry list of stories and poems that could be found later in Caribbean Jewish Crossings. Rather than dedicating a lengthy portion of this chapter to what was essentially summary of creative writing and essays that were to appear later on in the text, Casteel and Kaufman might’ve found it productive to dwell on the significance of these pieces of literature and their greater influence within the Jewish-Caribbean literary canon. 

Despite this shortcoming, Casteel and Kaufman’s chapter manages to give a platform to to Jewish-Caribbean culture, ultimately allowing for greater discussion within Jewish American studies and a better recognition of marginalized communities that have otherwise been ignored in academia. Through the work of academics such as Casteel and Kaufman, we can continue to work towards the internationalization of Jewish studies and better consider the intersectionality of Judaism with wider Caribbean culture. 

Works Cited:

Casteel, Sarah Phillips, and Heidi Kaufman, editors. Caribbean Jewish Crossings: Literary History and Creative Practice. University of Virginia Press, 2019. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctvq4bz53. Accessed 31 Mar. 2021.

Antisemitism in the Midst of Epidemics: a Precis

Laura Arnold Leibman’s academic article Jewish Healers and Yellow Fever in the Eighteenth Century Americas explores how members of the Jewish community have historically contributed to helping others during health crises while challenging harmful stereotypes surrounding Jews and their relation to pandemics. While many academics have acknowledged that antisemitism has fueled rhetoric linking Jews to disease, Leibman argues that pandemic related prejudices are often rooted in even deeper fears surrounding the legitimacy of Jewish citizenship within the Americas. Without considering this standpoint, academics fail to acknowledge how the factors of racism, epidemics, and capitalism have essentially worked together to ensure the delegitimization of Jews not only in the medical field, but in the Americas as a whole. Despite the valiant efforts and subsequent successes of Jewish medics during these epidemics, as is exemplified in the careers of David Cohen Nassy, Matthias Nassy, and Walter Jonas Judah, antisemitism in the context of pandemics has persisted, ultimately ignoring the influential part Jews have played in confronting disease outbreaks. 

Leibman’s claim is best reflected through her careful analysis of several Jewish healers, David Cohen Nassy, Matthias Nassy, and Walter Jonas Judah, active helpers in the midst of the United States yellow fever epidemics during the late eighteenth century. Much of her argument is detailed through the lens of early scientific racism, which “both enabled and marred the Jewish experience of the Enlightenment” depending on one’s race and ethnicity (Leibman, 79). This was a key factor in discrediting Jews for their work within the medical community, often using their statuses as Jews of color to downplay their role in combating yellow fever. David Cohen Nassy, a Portuguese Jew from Suriname, had incredible success when treating patients for yellow fever and even published extensive research on yellow fever; however, American academics failed to acknowledge Nassy’s efforts and rather fixated on the “low number of Jewish deaths” from yellow fever, a fact that was ruminated on by non-Jews with an air of suspicion (81). Surinamese immigrant and former slave Matthias Nassy, who worked as a nurse alongside David Cohen Nassy, was similarly discredited, not only on the basis of religion, but because he had African ancestry. Even after being freed through the Emancipation Act of 1780, Matthias’s service was “undercut” by various academics and publishers. This includes publisher Matthew Carey, who only mentioned Matthias’s work in his publications to criticize the labor of non-white nurses, the rates Black workers charged for joining hospital staff or assisting with burials, etc. Jewish erasure within the medical field is further exemplified by the fact that the efforts of these men are hard to track within history; David Cohen Nassy was able to maintain a legacy through self promotion, however, our understanding of Matthias’s life remains vague. All of these examples relating to non-Jewish reception of established Jewish figures speaks to the antisemitism present in the eighteenth century, which illustrated Jews not as benevolent and altruistic, but rather as sneaky, conniving outsiders not worthy of integrating into early American society. 

Being that this article appeared to me to have many great strengths, I would like to begin by touching on some minor weaknesses. While I enjoyed reading about the life of Walter Jonas Judah, whose life was “shaped” by yellow fever, I thought his story diverged slightly from those of David and Matthias, who were more directly involved in the medical field (83). I was also prompted to wonder as to if Judah’s death could almost be considered something that would break down antisemitic stereotypes in relation to health crises, as the general American public appeared to be so suspicious of how many Jews were unaffected by yellow fever. 

One strength of Leibman’s article lies in her ability to clearly and concisely lay out the stories of three very different Jewish men from a similar time period. With an already gripping argument about the impact of pandemics on the Jewish community, the rich analysis of the Nassy men and Judah further strengthened Leibman’s claim while also giving an in depth insight into Jewish life in the Americas during the eighteenth century. With Leibman so carefully crafting the timeline in which these events took place and effectively contrasting the public’s perception of Jewish healers versus the realities of their respective situations, it was incredibly easy to be convinced by her argument. Something I also perceived as being very strong in Leibman’s essay was the way in which she articulated her thoughts, which made the material more accessible to me as a young college student who is not totally familiar with the grave impact that epidemics had on the Jewish community. The fact that this topic is also so closely related to events that we are experiencing day to day with the presence of the coronavirus also helped to keep me engaged with the material and curious to figure out what stereotypes we are still being used today. 

Despite the attempts of antisemites to discredit Jews for their contributions to fighting against epidemics throughout history, Laura Arnold Leibman’s article directly denounces the myth of Jewish self interest altogether. Instead, we are made to understand the constant charity, altruism, and work that Jews put into their communities on a daily basis. Perhaps they did not receive the recognition that they deserved for their efforts in the eighteenth century Americas, but we can work to celebrate the progress they made in present time. 

Works Cited

Leibman, Laura Arnold. “Jewish Healers and Yellow Fever in the Eighteenth-Century Americas.” Jewish Social Studies, vol. 26 no. 1, 2020, p. 77-90. Project MUSE muse.jhu.edu/article/ 774653.

The Miniature of Judah Eleazer Lyons

Miniature of Judah Eleazer Lyons, of Paramaribo, Suriname; painted ca. 1820 – 1830.

Miniatures from the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries were typically constructed from ivory and painted on with watercolor. As one can see in this miniature of Judah Eleazer Lyons, this is very much the case; his face is defined in muted pastel colors, and the only real richness in tone can be found in the dark grays, browns, and blacks that are present in his hair, eyes, and coat. Despite this being such a small medium, only three by two and a half inches in size, this miniature artist was able to capture Lyons’s facial features in lovely detail, including eye wrinkles and the definition of his morning shadow. Being that this miniature is encased in a gold locket (as many miniatures are), it can be inferred that this portrait was likely kept as a sign of affection by one of Lyons’s family members. This is significant because it emphasizes kinship and community within the large Paramaribo Jewish population while also demonstrating how Jews of both the elite and working classes showcased their sense of refinement and social status.

Now check your knowledge on miniatures using this fill in the blank quiz!

Sources:

“Judah Eleazer Lyons.” Loeb Jewish Portrait Database, loebjewishportraits.com/biographies/judah-eleazer-lyons/.

Rosengarten, Theodore and Dale Rosengarten, eds. A Portion of the People: Three Hundred Years of Southern Jewish Life. Columbia: University of South Carolina Press, 2002.

A Letter from Rebecca Valverde Gomes to the Mahamad

To the great and influential Mahamad, 

I aim to act as a woman devoted to my faith, and I will always share feelings of respect and affection for our congregation. However, after meeting with the council of elders, I feel that my situation has been treated unfairly, especially on the account of my newborn son, who is innocent on all accounts. 

I understand that my actions in abandoning my husband and living with Mr. Castello seem egregious, but I entreat you to consider the many attempts I made to salvage my marriage with Raphael. I admire his commitment to the Jewish faith and believe him to be a deeply respectable man, but after he fell ill, it was difficult to ignore how incompatible we really were as a couple. With Judaism being a faith that focuses so deeply on the importance of kinship ties and community, you must understand that I did not feel that intimate sense of love and commitment towards my husband. Therefore, I think it was only wise for me to abandon my marriage and pursue a relationship where I can truly and authentically project the love that God intended for me to share within our community. Perhaps I found that with Mr. Castello, but I feel affection most strongly when I look upon the face of my son. 

My son is completely innocent in this predicament; his father may not be the man I married, but he had no choice in his conception. Therefore, I find it inappropriate that he should be labelled as a mamzer and an outcast and denied of engagement with our congregation. Circumcision is an integral tradition within our faith, and I want you all to understand that I intend for my child to share in that tradition regardless of whether or not he receives it at the hands of this council. Despite your offensive actions towards me and my family and your consistent policing of my personal decisions, I continue to believe in the goodness and grace of God. Perhaps you will eventually follow His word, forgive me for my misdeeds, and allow my son to fully enjoy all of the privileges this congregation has to offer. If this is not possible, then I fully intend to relocate myself and leave this episode of mine and my son’s life behind forever. 

Sincerely,

Rebecca Valverde Gomes

Rachel Pereire’s Letter to Son Pierre

Rachel writes to son, Pierre, to remind him to contact his relatives.

The letter pictured above is an example of a familiar letter from a Jewish mother, Rachel Pereire, to her son, Pierre. In describing intimate details of family affairs to her son, Pereire’s writing reflects many of the prime ideals held towards letter composition in the eighteenth century; she uses the letter as an opportunity to not only express sincere love and gratitude towards Pierre but also to urge him to connect with other relatives following the death of his aunt, Coura. This letter holds significance in the sense that it emphasizes the sacredness of kinship ties within Jewish communities and how letter writing was utilized as a means to breed communication and connection. It also feels important to note that this feels representative of how Jewish women were depicted in the few available records from early America; in this case, we see Pereire communicating with Pierre about life cycles.

Now quiz yourself on familiar letters!

Sources:

Loker, Zvi. “Were There Jewish Communities in Saint Domingue (Haiti)?” Jewish Social Studies, vol. 45, no. 2, 1983, pp. 135–146. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/4467216. Accessed 14 Feb. 2021.

The Neve Shalom Synagogue in Paramaribo, Suriname

The exterior of Neve Shalom Synagogue, originally constructed in 1719.

The Neve Shalom Synagogue serves as a space of refuge and great importance for the Jewish (mainly Ashkenazi) community in Paramaribo, Suriname. Originally constructed in 1719, this synagogue was meant to serve as a replacement for the Joden Savanne settlement, a thriving plantation that established Suriname as a successful agricultural colony before the French invasion of 1712. It was largely recognized as being the main place for Jews in Suriname to worship. The Neve Shalom Synagogue was especially significant during the Inquisition, serving as a religious space and sanctuary for Jews who were afraid to publicly embrace their faith, namely Marranos, or those who had been forced to convert to Catholicism. One thing that I notice about Neve Shalom’s architecture is that it is similar to that of a typical house; perhaps this is related to the Jewish community’s need to remain inconspicuous in the eyes of the Inquisition.

When examining the interior of Neve Shalom, it becomes apparent that much of the synagogue is constructed out of beautifully done woodwork. Neve Shalom was renovated and repaired many times during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, with one from 1854 being largely responsible for how the synagogue looks in present time. Suriname’s dedication to protecting and preserving such a significant religious structure is just another example of the Jewish community’s steadfast commitment to their faith.

A closer look at Neve Shalom’s gorgeous Hanukkiah.
Another example of the beautiful woodwork at Neve Shalom! This pillar was attached to the tebah.
This is one of many ritual baths, or mikveh, within Neve Shalom. These baths were used for total immersion with the Jewish faith in an attempt to gain ritual purity.

Sources:

Leibman, Laura. “Jewish Atlantic World .” Rdc.reed.edu, rdc.reed.edu/c/jewishatl/home/.

Shields, Jacqueline. Suriname Virtual Jewish History Tour, www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/suriname-virtual-jewish-history-tour.

“Suriname Synagogues.” Suriname Jewish Life, 2020, www.surinamejewishcommunity.com/synagogues.

The López-Penha Family Chronicle

All text selections come from Moseh de Daniel López-Penha’s Chronicle (1826).

Moseh de Daniel López Penha describes an exchange between his uncle, Isaac, and the Bishop of Cartagena.

The narrative pictured above recounts the plight of Moseh de Daniel López-Penha’s uncle, Isaac, and his steadfast commitment to Judaism while facing pressure to convert by the Bishop of Cartagena. Being that the López-Penha family had a long history of Iberian persecution at the hands of the Inquisition, Isaac’s unwavering devotion to his faith highlights the oftentimes dangerous lengths Jews would go to in order to preserve family ties to Judaism and traditional Jewish practices. This narrative, however, is especially unique in the sense that the Bishop of Cartagena does not condemn Isaac for refusing to convert; instead, he compliments Isaac for his “persistent faith” and gifts him a Hebrew book before the family flees to Curaçao. Unlike other participants in the Inquisition, the Bishop displays a sense of admiration for Isaac’s deep understanding of and commitment to the Jewish faith.

Test yourself on your knowledge of the López-Penha family with a short True or False quiz!