Israel reportedly made a particular request in the ongoing negotiations with Lebanon: the transfer of remains of Jews buried in Lebanon, including Beirut and Saida, to cemeteries in Israel. According to Al-Akhbar, this issue is linked to discussions regarding the release of Lebanese civilians detained by Israel. Hezbollah prisoners, however, would be excluded from this negotiation and Israel would also refuse, at this stage, to receive visits from the International Committee of the Red Cross.

Behind what might appear to be a mere humanitarian issue, however, is a much more sensitive question: that of the identity of the dead whose remains Israel now demands. Because the cemeteries concerned are not Israeli cemeteries established in Lebanon following the various wars between the two countries. These are the historical cemeteries of Lebanese Jewish communities established in the country long before the establishment of the State of Israel in 1948.

The information available does not at present give a list of the persons concerned, their number or nationality at the time of their death. It is therefore impossible to say that all the remains claimed are those of Lebanese citizens. But some could be those of Jews born in Lebanon, having lived as Lebanese and having been buried in their country, before their descendants eventually left Lebanon.

This distinction is essential. Being Jewish in Lebanon did not mean being Israeli. And the history of the Lebanese Jewish community cannot be reduced to that of a population who would have left Lebanon to join Israel.

A community deeply rooted in Lebanon’s history

The Jewish presence on Lebanese territory is ancient. In modern times, several communities developed in particular in Deir el-Qamar, Saida, Tripoli and Mount Lebanon before Beirut gradually became its main centre from the 19th century.

In the capital, a large community was established around Wadi Abu Jamil. It has its shops, schools, associations, religious institutions and places of worship. The Maghen Abraham synagogue, built in 1925 in the heart of Beirut, remains the most visible symbol of this presence.

The Jews of Lebanon then participate fully in the economic and social life of the country. Traders, artisans, employees, entrepreneurs and members of the liberal professions belong to a Lebanese society whose institutional system officially recognizes Judaism among the religious communities of the country.

The historical vocabulary itself deserves to be recalled. The term « Israeli », long used to refer to members of the Jewish community, is a religious designation. It does not mean « Israeli », which refers to a nationality that appeared with the creation of the State of Israel.

This confusion is particularly important today, since some of the people buried in the cemeteries mentioned could have died even before the birth of the Israeli state.

1948 does not result in the immediate disappearance of Lebanese Jews

Contrary to a simplified representation of the history of the Jewish communities in the Arab world, the creation of Israel in 1948 did not immediately cause the disappearance of the Jewish community in Lebanon.

Lebanon is even a special case in the region for a few years. Jews continued to live there after the first Arab-Israeli war and the country also temporarily welcomed Jews from other Arab states.

The decline of the community is gradually occurring, at the pace of Lebanese political crises and regional conflicts. Departures accelerated after the events of 1958 and then after the 1967 war, before becoming much more important with the Lebanese civil war from 1975.

But these departures by no means all take the direction of Israel.

Many Lebanese Jews never left in Israel

This is probably one of the most unknown aspects of this story. Some Lebanese Jews actually emigrate to Israel, but many choose other destinations.

France welcomes many families. Others are established in the United States, Canada, Mexico, Brazil, Argentina, Italy or elsewhere in Latin America and Europe.

Their trajectory then resembles, in many ways, that of hundreds of thousands of other Lebanese forced to emigrate through political instability, wars or the search for better economic prospects.

Some of these families also continued to consider themselves Lebanese long after their departure. The Lebanese Arab language, cooking, family traditions and ties with the country have been preserved in part of this diaspora.

There is therefore a Lebanese Jewish diaspora that is absolutely not confused with the Israeli population.

This reality is important in the current case. The fact that a descendant of a Jew buried in Beirut or Saida today has Israeli nationality does not mean that his father, grandfather or great grandfather was himself Israeli. He may have been Lebanese, died Lebanese, and buried in Lebanon by a family who considered Lebanon his own.

A retrospective transformation of all Lebanese Jewish history into an extension of Israeli history would therefore constitute a historical contradiction.

The civil war almost completes the disappearance of the community

At the beginning of the civil war, a Jewish community remained in Lebanon. But his situation quickly became untenable.

Wadi Abu Jamil lies in the heart of a capital divided by fighting. The destruction, insecurity and collapse of institutions accelerate emigration. In the 1980s, several Lebanese Jews were also abducted and some were murdered.

The community is then reduced to a few dozen people and then to an extremely discreet presence.

Its demographic disappearance does not mean the disappearance of its heritage. The Maghen Abraham synagogue was restored after the war after being destroyed by Israeli bombings. Cemeteries, graves and some other physical traces also remain. They bear witness to a Jewish presence that belongs to the history of Lebanon, regardless of the conflict with Israel.

It is precisely this funeral heritage that is now at the centre of negotiations.

Who owns the dead?

The Israeli demand therefore raises a delicate question. If the families of the persons concerned individually request the transfer of their relatives, the matter may be dealt with in a family and religious way, subject of course to Lebanese law and the necessary authorizations.

But a request made by the Israeli State in a negotiation with the Lebanese State takes on another dimension.

Israel would no longer simply call for the transfer of a remains at the private request of a family: it would make such exhumations an element of negotiation, particularly concerning Lebanese citizens currently detained in its territory.

However, some of the remains used in this negotiation could themselves be those of Lebanese citizens.

It would therefore be necessary to know precisely the identity of each person concerned, his/her nationality at the time of death, the date of his/her burial and the identity of the descendants, if any, requesting his/her transfer. In the absence of this list, any generalization would be premature.

But one thing is already certain: the Jewish cemeteries in Lebanon cannot be considered as Israeli cemeteries simply because the people who rested there were Jewish.

Part of Lebanese memory

The issue ultimately goes beyond the current negotiations with Israel. It refers to the manner in which Lebanon considers one of its almost disappeared communities.

The Lebanese Jews were not a foreign population waiting to join a future Israeli state. They were traders in Beirut, inhabitants of Saida or Deir al-Qamar, neighbours, owners, craftsmen or employees. They had their synagogues like other communities had their churches or mosques.

When wars and crises started, some went to Israel. Many more went to Paris, Montreal, New York, Mexico City, São Paulo, Buenos Aires or elsewhere.

This diaspora thus belongs to the general history of Lebanese emigration as well as that of Eastern Judaism.

The remaining graves in Beirut or Saida are the last material witnesses of this presence. They do not become Israeli because some descendants of those who rest in Israel today live in Israel.

If the negotiations are now to deal with their possible transfer, Beirut will therefore have to determine exactly who Israel is demanding and in what capacity.

For behind an apparently funerary question is a fundamental historical distinction:a Lebanese Jew is not, by definition, an Israeli.