A Synagogue in Ma'adi

Meyr Biton Temple from Road 13

A dusty, forlorn synagogue stands in Ma'adi just where Road 13 meets Orabi Street. From the pavement you can barely see the temple for all of the trees, reeds, and weeds. Look above the treetops though, and you can see the second story, the butternut colored blocks, the central dome. Walk around the building. Here and there you catch a glimpse of stained glass windows and inlaid Stars of David. See the hastily built brick walls surrounding the temple, the locked gate in front, the padlock encrusted with sand and dust. Tarry too long in front of the gates, and one of the bowabs from across the street will rise from his perch to shoo you away. Try to take a picture and you may be met with a vigorous shaking of the head, a wagging of the index finger, and a "la, la, la!" (no, no, no!). Even if you are not shooed away, you will be suspiciously watched. Given the bowabs' withering stares, you won't linger, and you will probably leave with many more questions than answers.

― That looked like it used to be a synagogue. What happened?

― Do you think it is abandoned?

― Does anyone still pray there? Does anyone take care of it?

Meyr Biton Temple, 1934
Courtesy, Bassatine News

In 1934, times were very different in Cairo and in Egypt. Howard Carter had discovered Tutankhamen's tomb just a a little over a decade before. Fuad was king. British influence was still strong. Those were the days before World War II and the pograms, before the Six Day War and the Arab-Israeli conflicts.

In 1934, landscaper and developer Meyr Yehuda Biton had a synagogue built for a burgeoning Jewish community in Ma'adi. It was not built to be grand or imposing. It was built as a place where a small but growing community could gather together to celebrate and pray. In 1934, the Meyr Biton Temple was finished and services began. Those services would come to an end just thirty short years later.

Barricades blocking all the streets around the temple

Today the streets around the synagogue are barricaded, blocked by palisades of police barriers, twisted metal bars, and recumbent spiked metal poles that look as is if they belong in a medieval weaponry museum. At half-block intervals, bowabs sit in their makeshift, metal stands warding off all but the most stalwart passerbyes. Overgrown trees and weeds choke the median between the street and the temple walls. It appears as though the same is true on the other side of the walls. At irregular intervals throughout the week, a policeman stands guard on the street in front. Motorists drive past, oblivious to the building's significance, its history, its legacy.

Jewish communities have been a part of the Egyptian social fabric since the days of Alexander the Great. Some Ottoman rulers in Egypt enjoyed the counsel of Jewish ministers and advisers. For hundreds of years, Alexandria and Cairo were renown for their vibrant Jewish communities. Just before the outbreak of the first Word War, the Jewish community in Egypt had been estimated at 80,000 strong; this according to most religious demographers.

But then the First World War was followed by another one. Pograms in Egypt's larger cities were not unheard of. And then came the creation of Israel. Some Egyptian Jews, Zionists dreaming of a Jewish state in the Middle East, left. Conflict between the people of Israel and the people of Egypt followed. More Egyptian Jews left, emigrating to Europe, South America, the United States. Then Nasser came to power, proclaiming Jews as enemies of the state. An exodus ensued.

According to a U.S. State Department report on international religious freedom published in 2007, only 200 native-born Jews remained in Egypt. Until this month, only 12 of the 200 were still here. Last week, Nadia Haroun, the sister of the President of the Jewish Community Council (JCC) of Cairo, passed away. The remaining 11 members of the Jewish community are all female and quite past child-bearing age. The future of the Egyptian Jewish community looks bleak.

But thanks to the work of the JCC, the interior of Meyr Biton Temple has recently been refurbished and is open to the public. It is advisable to contact the JCC first so that someone from the JCC office can contact the local caretaker, but entrance to the synagogue can be arranged. One blogger recounts his experience inside the temple,

In the entry, I saw a photo of the congregation from the early 1930s: women in old fashioned dresses and men wearing Turkish fezzes. Signs reminding the ladies to keep quiet still hung on the wall, in both French and English, as if the people from the photograph still gathered here. The bookshelves were filled with prayer books, many of which were close to 100 years old. I prayed that night from a siddur issued to soldiers in the British army during World War II. While this army prayer book did not contain a complete Shabbat service, it did include a prayer for going into battle, another for the wounded, and a special blessing for the royal family including Princess Elizabeth (now Queen Elizabeth II).

Although the synagogue's facade suggests otherwise, a light still shines inside the Meyr Biton Temple. One hopes that the light emanating from the altar will continue to shine on.