Blood Libel in Iraq
In an article in the London Arabic-language daily Al-Sharq Al-Awsat,
progressive Iraqi columnist Khalid Al-Kishtayni recorded his childhood
recollections of an encounter with an elderly Jew in Iraq. As a child,
Al-Kishtayni had heard stories that the Jews would slaughter non-Jewish
children in order to use their blood for their rituals, and the
encounter therefore left a strong impression on him. The following are
excerpts from the article:(1)
"As a boy I loved to wander down Al-Rashid Street and through the
Christian and Jewish quarters there. [One day] I found myself in the
Hanoun market in the Jewish quarter. Suddenly a door opened, and an
elderly white-haired man with a long white beard came out.
"He raised his hand towards me and beckoned me to come to him. I was
overcome by fear, but could not fight the magic in his fingertips, which
drew him towards him like a magnet. He opened the door, and told me to
go in. I could not disobey, and he led me in with his hand. I began to
ask myself whether this was my end. I wished I had not entered! Why
couldn't I escape and run back to my family?
"He asked me what my name was, and I answered [Khaled]. He said: 'Wonder of wonders, [like the name of the Muslim commander] Khaled bin Al-Walid. And where do you live? And how old are you?' I said to myself: 'He is asking how old I am in order to be sure my blood is suitable for the deed. He placed his hand on my head and asked: 'Khaled my son, do you know how to light a fire?' Another wave of terror swept over me. Would he cook me over a fire? He said: 'Show me how you light the fire in the stove.' I took a match, and lit the stove with shaking hand.
"This man, one of the people of the Torah, the Talmud, and the Mishna,
kissed me on the head and led me to a room with an antique cupboard. He
opened one of the drawers, took out a handful of chocolate, and filled
my pockets. He led me, completely amazed, to the door, opened the door,
and bid farewell, blessing me, wishing me a long life, and adding: 'Give
regards to your father.'
"I left, astounded, and hurried home like somebody who has awakened from a strange dream. I told the story to my father and brothers, and they
laughed at me, and said: 'It is the Sabbath. The Jews are forbidden to
light fire on the Sabbath. The poor old man was thirsty for a cup of
tea.'
"We shared the chocolate, and I spent the rest of the week counting the
days until the Sabbath, and then until the Sabbath after that and the
one after that. Every Sabbath I went to that same alley, hoping that the
white-haired old man would open the door and that I would light his
fire, and he would fill my pockets with chocolate. But the door never
opened again, and those ancient features, from Biblical times, did not
reappear. Recently I have been thinking about knocking on the door and
asking: 'My uncle, Abu Sasson, do you need anybody to light your fire?'"
(1) Al-Sharq Al-Awsat (London), April 5, 2005.
