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An early etching of an Auto-da-fe' |
After a delightful lunch in one of the many sidewalk cafés surrounding
Lisbon’s Rossio Square, we went to our photo-shoot appointment at the city’s
only synagogue. Our appetites for the grilled fish entre were a bit dampened by
the knowledge that in 1544, as Portugal’s Inquisition got into full swing,
there had been an auto-da-fé in this very square, the site of our leisurely
repast. Auto-da-fé is a sanitized term for public burnings, where good citizens
jeer, cheer, and zealously participate in slicing, dicing and stealing as their
victims scream and burn to death. In a series of such public spectacles, about
1200 of Portugal’s Jews were burned at the stake. Until that time Portugal had
been a relatively safe harbor for Jews fleeing the Spanish Inquisition which
had been going on for a little over fifty years.
To avoid this excruciating death, many Jews and Muslims,
known as conversos, converted to Catholicism. However, conversion did not
always prove to be a safe haven. Many conversos were subjected to horrendous
tortures or life-long service as galley rowing slaves.
Another misery inflicted upon Portugal’s Jews was the state
orchestrated mass kidnapping of Jewish children who were sent to work as slaves
in the equatorial African islands of Sao Tome and Principe. It wasn’t without
good cause. After all, labor was needed to work the sugar plantations of these
Portuguese outposts where a particularly virulent strain of Malaria cut life
expectancies to only a few years.
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Lisbon's Grand Synagogue faces a courtyard |
In 1821, the Marquis of Pombal halted the Inquisition and
Jews were invited back to Portugal so that the country could benefit from their
acumen as businessmen, scientists and doctors.
In anticipation of a congregation of many hundreds, Lisbon’s Grand
Synagogue was completed in 1904.
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Interior of Grand Synagogue |
Today, the Lisbon Jewish community numbers only about three
hundred, having reached its peak during the World War II years when neutral
Portugal was a gateway out of Europe. The synagogue was the first to be built
since the late 15th century. Its main façade faces an inner
courtyard since Portuguese law at the time forbade non-Catholic religious
buildings from facing the street.
Our Lisbon photographic work completed, we went to the
airport to pick up our prearranged lease car. At building 125, we met the
cheery Peugeot representative. Following him, we dragged all of our luggage and
photo-gear to a labyrinthine underground car park to retrieve our vehicle. Because
Europeans are thrifty and eco-conscious this huge catacomb like parking area was
nearly unlit. Stumbling along with our many bags, we eventually came to a car
that was alleged to be ours. Who could tell in the dark? We were asked to sign
a sheaf of documents which the Peugeot representative kindly attempted to
illuminate with his almost exhausted pen-sized flashlight. Truly, it was so
dark I have no idea what I signed, except I needed that car even if I was
agreeing in writing to send my first born to Sao Tome to work the sugar
plantations.
After the signing, the fun began. Imagine being acquainted
in the dark with a new French car by a man who mostly speaks Portuguese. Standard
shift just added to the challenges. After 10 minutes of misunderstanding the
gentleman’s heavily accented miss-explanations we took our copies of the
slavery contracts I had signed and backed the car out of its ridiculously
narrow slot. Being a new model car, it was fitted with warning beepers that
hooted and beeped if we got too near anything. The parking slot was so narrow
that as soon as I began backing the vehicle, it erupted with a cacophony of hooting,
beeping and flashing warning lights. I was stressed to the max by this
pyrotechnic display in the near dark where structural columns and parked cars
lurked in close proximity as I eased out the clutch. You do remember clutches
don’t you? Proud that I hadn’t hit anything, we were finally out of the catacombs.
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Interior of ancient Tomar Synagogue |
An hour and a half later we arrived in the town of Tomar
which has an authentically preserved medieval quarter replete with tiny,
cobblestone streets zigzagging between ancient stone buildings. The vice-mayor
had arranged for two smiling docents to meet us at Tomar’s old synagogue that
dates from the mid-15th century.
As there are only two Jewish people now residing in Tomar, (one was our
docent), the synagogue, a truly interesting Museum of Jewish Culture, is
maintained by the city. Since the
expulsion and forced conversions of Portuguese Jews in 1496, the synagogue has
served such diverse functions as a prison, church, grocery warehouse and
hayloft.
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View of arched Tomar Synagogue ceiling |
Fronting on a narrow street in Tomar’s ancient Juderia, or
Jewish ghetto, the small synagogue is a square shaped room with three short
aisles defined by four central columns supporting Gothic vaulting. The four
pillars are said to symbolize the four matriarchs of the Torah – Sarah,
Rebekah, Leah and Rachel – who are recognized as co-founders of Israel, in
equal stature to their more renowned husbands, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. The
twelve arches supported by the four columns symbolize the twelve tribes of Israel.
A two hour drive north from Tomar brought us to Porto, the
city made famous as the source for the delicious, sweet alcoholic beverage,
Port. Just as intoxicating, for those infatuated by architectural delicacies,
is the city’s remarkable and unique Art-Deco style synagogue. There are very
few religious buildings of any kind in the Art-Deco aesthetic. In detail as
well as overall form and concept, this one is a true gem.
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Porto's Art-Deco Synagogue |
The Porto Synagogue’s story began in the 1920s when there
were approximately twenty Ashkenazi Jews in the city. A Portuguese army
officer, Captain Artur Barros Basto, who learned at the bedside of his dying
grandfather that his family were actually conversos, decided to take up the
faith of his Jewish ancestors.
By 1929, Barros Basto had raised funds to buy a plot
of land. Work progressed slowly due to limited finances until 1933, when Laura
Kadoorie, the wife of Sir Elly Kadoorie, a Portuguese-born Jewish
philanthropist living in Britain, died. Laura was a descendant of Portuguese
Jews who fled that country’s inquisition centuries before. To honor their
mother, Laura’s children financially
supported completion of the Synagogue of Porto and it was renamed Synagogue
Kadoorie - Mekor Haim.
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Art-Deco details of Porto Synagogue |
A short visit to Portugal offers the tourist three wonderful
and diverse synagogues to ogle, delicious Port wine as well as delightful
Portuguese cuisine, culture and countryside. My suggestion, if you rent a car, is
be sure it’s delivered above ground.