Jaffa tales

In Jaffa (biblical Joppha), the sculptured whale alongside the Ilana Goor Museum always seems to be smiling whilst blushing with an omnipotent gleam, satisfied with his role and the knowledge that he is about to swallow Jonah or that Jonah has already been engorged inside the whale’s belly.
It is a good place to get off the bus when touring Jaffa and recount the local illustrious but contemptible story of Jonah who was called upon by God to bring salvation to the people of Ninveh – however, Jonah would rather have denied them and tried to flee by sea in the opposite direction but by virtue of divine disasters he was destined to confront his original challenge.

Trying to explain this story to a skeptical group of University students from Australia, studying Middle-East Politics, could be seen as a challenge, and especially in the current political climate with the contemporary issues associated with the Islamic State in Iraq. The group photo next to the whale seemed a little obtuse. I left the moral of the story suspended in the air like the proverbial whale languishing on the land.
We passed through the remains of the outer southern wall of Jaffa that had been breached by Napoleon in 1799, who had embarked upon a campaign to conquer the East and with a vision to create an empire comparable to Alexander the Great. Napoleon’s sudden rise to power and popularity had overwhelmed the rulers of France who were still recovering from the aftermath and throes of the French Revolution, and they were keen to temporarily distance him and his army, whilst they seized control of their country. After Napoleon landed in Egypt, his fleet was destroyed in the famous Battle of the Nile, by Admiral Nelson, and this disaster hampered the future of his terrestrial campaign until his advance was eventually thwarted at the siege of Acre. He returned to France somewhat like Jonah, being regurgitated on land, but this time it was French soil. The student group seemed to relate better to the poetic justice of this story, though they eagerly embraced the statue of Napoleon, with their arm stretched around his shoulder for the classic “selfie”.
Entering the narrow cobbled alleyways of the old Arab port, the refurbished shops and galleries conceal a history that lies under the surface of their façade. Jaffa was the entry point to the Holyland. In the past it was where pilgrims and immigrants would first arrive before setting out on their chosen paths. Today it presents a new vision – a fundamental change to restore the abandoned buildings and retain their character in the form of an artist colony – a project that was envisaged in the 1960’s by the Tel Aviv Municipality, whilst maintaining the fragile co-existence that exists between the Jewish and Arab minority community.
We pass an attractive Yemenite jewelry store, with a courtyard and workshop, which preserve the old tradition of filigree jewelry and ceremonial craftsmanship. Yemenite Jews held a caste status as silversmiths and goldsmiths, and their skills helped preserve the integrity of their faith for 2500 years after they were separated from mainstream Judaism. After the creation of the modern state of Israel, the political situation in Yemen deteriorated for the Jews, and a massive airlift by the newly created Israeli air-force coded, “On Eagle’s Wings” – fulfilled the biblical promise from the book of Exodus, and transported them from a medieval period of existence into the modern world.
Further along the same alleyway, we pass the Meisler studio and gallery, a prominent landmark in old Jaffa. Frank Meisler survived the holocaust as a child – in August,1939, through good fortune he was selected for the “kindertransporte” – whereby German Jewish children were separated from their parents in Germany, transported and fostered into homes in England. Today his sculptures have an international recognition for their innovativeness as objects of Judaica and some feature as memorials in several European locations – particularly poignant are “ the Train of Life and Death” series, portraying the intervention of fate in determining those who would survive and those who would perish in the cauldrons of the holocaust.

Down a nearby side alley we entered a colorful artwork gallery – the works of Sasson – portraying romanticized biblical images and scenic paintings of Jaffa – a unique, stylized myriad of Mediterranean colors – the artist’s parents originated from Greece, survived the holocaust and migrated to Palestine.
In the courtyard adjacent to the gallery stands the famous “Floating Orange Tree” installation, by Morin. There is a large, levitated pottery container in the form of a seed and its arboreal progeny growing upwards – a mature, live orange tree – suspended by cables to the adjacent buildings, infused by a drip irrigation system. It is a symbol of a bygone period when the surrounding region was covered in orange orchards and Jaffa oranges were a universal household name.
The group of students posed for photographs, mostly underneath the “floating” pitcher, grimacing and pretending they were holding it up with Herculean strength. I turned the other way, contemplating the insurance liability, before I faced the group and embarked upon my soliloquy, reviewing “City of Oranges,” written by LeBo. This is a historical dramatic narrative of Jaffa. The book interweaves the lives of prominent and more common families, amongst Jews, Christians and Muslims, and their inter-relationships in the 1920s through to the 1940s, and then the subsequent effect of the tumultuous events of the Battle for Jaffa during the British Mandate period, and the War of Independence, and the aftermath of the Jewish conquest, with the dispossessed fleeing as refugees to Gaza and Beirut.

An opportunity for contemplation was offered as we climbed the hill towards Tel Jaffa. The ‘tel” being an artificial mound created by layers of civilization as one period of history was built upon the destruction of another. Along the way we paused before the remains of an archaeological excavation that had revealed the gateway to the ancient city of Jaffa during the times of the Pharaohs. Today there stands a replica of the gateway with 2 columns displaying hieroglyphic inscriptions representative of when Egyptian influence dominated the region around 3300 years ago. A profitable trade route – later called the Via Maris – followed the coast from Egypt to the Yarkon River, before entering the hinterland and diverging towards Damascus and Baghdad. This eastern edge of the Mediterranean basin provided a land bridge connecting Europe, Africa and Asia.
The decline of the Pharohs coincided with the emergence of the Sea Peoples – the Philistines, from the Aegean Sea islands, a maritime power that unsuccessfully attacked the Egyptian fleets as recorded in inscriptions at Karnak Temple, and either in their retreat or serving their Egyptian masters, the Philistines colonized the southern coast of modern Israel around 1200 BC, as far north as Jaffa. Historically, around this time, the Israelite tribes emerged along the hillside areas of Judea. There was an ongoing conflict between the Israelite tribes and the Philistines, who were located along the more fertile coastal plains and were more advanced in metallurgy –with weapons and ploughshares of iron. They were eventually subdued during the time of King David, according to the biblical story.

Arrival to the top of Tel Jaffa reveals outstanding views toward Tel Aviv – the modern Jewish city established in 1909 on the sand-dunes and coastline below.
Walking down the hillside slope toward the port area, we pass by the Church of St Peter, a distinctive architectural landmark, rebuilt in the late 19th century, to commemorate the significant connection between Jaffa and Christianity. It was in Jaffa, that Peter, one of the disciples of Jesus, received a vision to go and preach to the Gentiles. Previously, the followers of Jesus were Jews and Judeo-Christians. The vision of Peter marked the turning point in embracing the non-Jewish world, creating a universal belief built around a God-figure, and without the necessary ceremony of Shabbat, dietary law and reinforced tribal ritual associated with the Jewish culture and its centrality to the Temple in Jerusalem. Peter promoted the religious dichotomy between a universal message versus tribal belief. The light of salvation emerged from Jaffa for those who believed, in sharp contrast to the actions of Jonah, who would rather have denied! At this point of the discussion, a few of the students were visibly perspiring heavily, we were in need of light relief, and it was thought prudent to take a refreshment break before resuming the discussion.

After our break, we walked down narrow stairways and along shaded alleyways lined with quaint houses built of kurkar, a type of fossilized sandstone. The renovated old houses were now residences for the local artist population, and pleasant strains of music drifted along the cobbled passages. We reached the marina to the squawking sounds of seagulls hovering above and fishing boats returning from their nocturnal activities passing through the treacherous Andromeda Rocks to the sheltered safety of the marina breakwater built in recent history, during the British Mandate period.

Curiously Greek mythology has found its way to Jaffa in the form of Andromeda. A maiden by this name, who boasted she was the most beautiful woman in the world, aroused the jealous anger of the sea-goddess, and in retribution her parents were forced to surrender her, bound in chains on the reef that stands before us, to be devoured by the monstrous sea-serpent who lurked in the depths below. Fortunately, Perseus, a lesser god, happened to arrive on the scene. He waited for the monster to surface, struggled with the creature, whilst the maiden cried and appealed for help in her distress and vulnerability, and decapitated the monster. He fell madly in love with Andromeda – and the feelings were mutual! The students liked that story, and took lots of “selfies” with the Andromeda Rocks in the background.

Jaffa is regarded as one of the ancient ports of the world, and developed as maritime trading expanded along the eastern shore of the Mediterranean. It was a small shallow harbor protected by an outer reef. The sea journey was difficult and could represent a perilous trial with storms during the inclement seasons and exposure to potential pirating. Previously, before the breakwater was built, the ships would have to anchor off-shore and the passengers and cargo would be rowed ashore by Arab stevedores in long boats. The naïve visitor would often be unloaded upon unscrupulous skilled hagglers and bundled onto the chaotic wharf at the mercy of corrupt officials, applying fictitious taxes for goods and entry, or who were prepared to receive baksheesh in return for services. Descriptive tales of early visitors to Jaffa sound nightmarish and the initial encounter tested the reserve of natural selection and prepared the fittest for the future encounters of their pilgrimage.

We proceeded from the marina wharf, walking along the walled shoreline, which was part of the coastal defense, towards the market area and famous clock-tower. Along the way we came to a decorative fountain, located at the entrance of the Mahmoudiya Mosque. The mosque was renovated and the fountain – used for ritual ablutions before entering the mosque – was built by Mahmoud Abu Nabbot, who was the governor of Jaffa at the beginning of the early 1800s. It was a turbulent period during the Ottoman history of Jaffa when there were numerous power struggles and fiefdoms being established. Abu Nabbot was of the Mameluk class – former slaves who were trained as mercenaries, and distinguished themselves in battle for their leaders and subsequently received freedom and privileges for their services. After capturing Jaffa, he seized authority, rebuilt the walls and revitalized the economy.
The Mahmoudiya Mosque is found just inside the perimeter of where the former city wall and the main gate of Jaffa were once located. The dome of the mosque and its tall spindle-like minaret, are an intrinsic feature of the Jaffa skyline when viewed from the north. The wailing call to prayer, which can be heard 5 times a day, brings us back to the reality of the Middle-East as we approach the commercial market area of the flea-market. Against one of the walls of the mosque, stands a large decorative water fountain, the Suleiman Fountain, which was used by mounted trading caravans before they left the city to supply themselves with water prior to their journey – in the direction of either Acco, Jerusalem or Gaza.
The walls of Jaffa were toppled in the 1860s, the moat was filled with rubble, an expansive Turkish administrative building, the Seraya, was constructed as the port city expanded, and a large square was created where the former gate of the city stood. In the early 1900s, a tall clock tower was built in the square, commemorating the 25th anniversary of the Turkish Sultan’s rule, symbolic of the growth of Jaffa’s development – there was now a railway station, connecting Jerusalem and Jaffa, along with a road suitable for carriage and the first motor car. The era of modernity was rapidly approaching! However, entering the 20th century, would be a period of further historical turmoil.
After World War I, the British Mandate would take control of Palestine, and their skills of diplomacy and pragmatism would be tested by the challenging growth of Jewish and Palestinian-Arab nationalism.

We walked past the remaining columns of the Seraya building, later used by the Arab League Committee of Jaffa – who were intransigently opposed to a Jewish state, and exploded during the Battle for Jaffa. Arriving to the main street, alongside the clock tower, – the students of Middle-East Politics were getting restless – their appetite was of a more visceral nature and it was now time to unleash them into the market – we made our way to the street of doctors – Dr Shakshuka, Dr Houmous, Dr Falafel and Aboulafiya bakery….. the exotic flavors of old Jaffa.