Reporting from Jerusalem and Beijing— As a child growing up in Kaifeng in central China, Jin Jin was constantly reminded of her unusual heritage.

“We weren’t supposed to eat pork, our graves were different from other people, and we had a mezuza on our door,” said the 25-year-old, referring to the prayer scroll affixed to doorways of Jewish homes.

Her father told her of a faraway land called Israel that he said was her rightful home, she recalls. But “we didn’t know anything about daily prayers or the weekly reading of the Torah.”

Jin has since fulfilled her father’s dream. On a hot summer day in Jerusalem, where she works as a tour guide for Chinese citizens visiting Israel, Jin, who now goes by the Hebrew name Yecholya, wore a long khaki skirt, indicative of her conservative religious views, and Teva-like sandals, the national footwear of Israel.

Jin and her relatives belong to a community of Chinese Jews that was established in the 9th century by Persian traders who traveled along the Silk Road to Kaifeng, at the time China’s capital.

Records documenting the group’s history are spotty, but experts do know that some of the Jewish traders settled in Kaifeng and eventually built a synagogue with official recognition from the emperor. After the last rabbi in Kaifeng died in 1809, many began to forsake their religious practices while holding on to certain traditions, like the prohibition against pork and the celebration of a communal meal on Passover.

Then in 2005, Shavei Israel arrived. The privately funded conservative religious organization, based in Jerusalem, specifically targets descendants of Jews who have lost their connection to the religion, such as those forced to convert to Catholicism during the Inquisition in Spain.

“Chinese have a strong reverence for ancestry,” said Michael Freund, founder and chairman of Shavei Israel. “Even though they don’t know how to read the Torah, they know they’re Jewish.”

So far the organization has helped 14 Jews, out of an estimated 3,000 who live in Kaifeng, move to Israel. But Freund complained that Israel’s bureaucratic and religious red tape has prevented Shavei Israel from bringing over more of these Chinese Jews.

Because the community intermarried and based Jewishness on patrilineal heritage rather than matrilineal, the norm in Judaism, Kaifeng Jews who want to move to Israel need to undergo Orthodox conversions under Israeli law.

The process takes a year or more of study at an Orthodox yeshiva, and requires a final examination before a rabbinical court.

Jin was brought to Israel with three others from her hometown by Shavei Israel specifically to begin the conversion process. Once converted, she was eligible to remain in Israel under the country’s Law of Return. The statute allows Jews to claim citizenship, which she did along with her three Chinese classmates. Jin’s father remains in China, although she said he hopes to join her soon.

At first, Jin and others were indignant about the need to formally convert to Judaism.

“According to me and my family, we were always Jewish,” she said. “I was confused why we needed to go through the conversion process.”

But after she started studying in Jerusalem, Jin said, she realized how little she knew of Jewish traditions and rules.

Jin eventually became such an expert in prayers before meals, Freund said, that she stumped him at a dinner with other Jews from Kaifeng at a kosher sushi restaurant, where they discussed which prayer should be uttered first: the one for the rice or for the fish.

“This is something that I, or most Jews for that matter, would never have given a second thought,” Freund said. “It shows how much they can add to Judaism.”

The first family of Kaifeng Jews to immigrate to Israel was almost sent back to China. Shlomo and Deena Jin (no relation to Yecholya Jin) had overstayed their tourist visas in 2005. As they faced deportation, Shavei Israel worked with authorities to allow them to stay after going through the conversion process. Shlomo, at the time in his late 40s, endured a circumcision to complete the conversion.

More recent arrivals have been in their early 20s and most have felt more at home in Israel than in Kaifeng.

Wang Yage said he stood out his whole life. His house was filled with Hebrew books, a language no one in his family understood, and even his name was different: It’s the transliterated version of Jacob, a biblical name.

After studying one year at Henan University in Kaifeng, the 25-year-old jumped at the opportunity to move to Israel. He hasn’t looked back.

“I feel Israel is my home and I’m more comfortable here,” said Wang, who now refers to himself as Yaakov. “Israelis help you out when you need it; it’s like belonging to a big family.”

After his conversion, Wang plans to become a rabbi to help Kaifeng Jews immigrate to Israel. If he succeeds, he will be the first Chinese rabbi in almost 200 years.

Despite this progress, bureaucracy in Israel and China may prevent larger-scale immigration. According to Shavei Israel, the Israeli Ministry of the Interior has been reluctant to give visas to a group not officially considered Jewish by Israel’s chief rabbinate.

Meanwhile, because Jews are not among China’s 56 officially recognized ethnic groups and Judaism is not one of the five officially recognized religions, the Chinese government is suspicious of the Kaifeng community’s efforts to organize.

“The government is still worried about religion and its negative effects,” said Xu Xin, director of the Institute of Jewish Studies at Nanjing University. “They worry it will affect stability and encourage fundamentalism.”

Ultimately, the government sees organized religion as a challenge to its power and state-sponsored atheism.

Along with a newfound freedom of religion, the 14 Kaifeng Jews are looking forward to stretching their political wings.

“The first time I went to vote, it was raining hard and three of us went together,” Jin recalled. “I was so proud. For everyone else there it was just another election, but for us, it was the beginning of a new life.”

Haas is a news assistant in The Times’ Beijing bureau.

Originally published here.

Wall Street Journal

KAIFENG, China—Zhang Xinwang, a moon-faced Chinese man with a spiky beard, calls himself “Moishe.”

“So do you think I look Jewish?” he asks.

For much of the past millennium, Jews in Kaifeng— descendants of merchants who arrived here from Persia, probably around the 11th century—have been struggling with an existential question: What does it mean to be Jewish?

Zhang Xinwang calls himself “Moishe.”

The handful of Kaifengers who go to Israel are sometimes floored to discover they need to go through a rabbi-certified conversion to be accepted as Jews, while the ones staying home squabble over which of them are really Jewish.

The question has surprising consequences in this dusty walled city in central China. According to the Chinese government, there are no Kaifeng Jews because there are no Chinese Jews. Judaism isn’t one of China’s five official religions and Jews aren’t designated as one of the country’s 55 official minorities. Orthodox Jews have a similar view, though for different reasons. Kaifeng Jews trace their heritage through their father, as Chinese traditionally do, while orthodox Jews define Judaism as passing through the mother.

“They may stem from Jewish ancestry, but they aren’t Jewish,” says Rabbi Shimon Freundlich, who runs the orthodox Chabad House in Beijing. “There hasn’t been a Jewish community in Kaifeng in 400 years.”

Except there is one, though it’s divided and diminished. Somewhere between 500 and 1,000 people in the city say they are descendants of Kaifeng Jews and cling to at least some Jewish traditions. A canvas poster at No. 21 Teaching the Torah Lane announces the street as the site of a synagogue that was destroyed in an 1860 flood and never rebuilt. Inside a tiny courtyard house, “Esther” Guo Yan works as a tour guide and sells knick-knacks decorated with Jewish stars.

Kaifeng’s last synagogue, destroyed in an 1860 flood, stood at “Teaching the Torah Lane,” now an alley of courtyard houses.

When tourists stop by, she quizzes them on Jewish ceremonies, like what prayers to say when lighting Sabbath candles. She says she hasn’t yet managed to fast a full day on Yom Kippur, though she is trying. As the granddaughter of a Kaifeng Jew, she says the orthodox standard on Judaism is unfair: “We read the Torah with Eastern thoughts; deal with it.”

The first Jewish merchants arrived when Kaifeng was in its heyday as the Song dynasty capital. They married the local women and rose to become mandarins and military officials. Over the centuries they blended in ethnically and were forgotten by the world until 1605, when a Jewish scholar from Kaifeng, Ai Tien, met Jesuit missionary Matteo Ricci in Beijing. The missionary then spread the news that Jews had been living in China for centuries.

The Kaifeng Jewish population is thought to have peaked at around 5,000, but by the early 1900s, none could read Hebrew and the community’s Torah scrolls were sold to collectors. Jews were called “the Muslims with the blue caps,” referring to the color of the yarmulkes some still wore.

“In our family, we didn’t eat pork, that’s for sure,” says Nina Wang, a 24-year-old Kaifeng native who now lives in Israel and underwent orthodox Jewish conversion. The family had menorahs and Sabbath cups, she said, “but we didn’t know what to do with those things.”

When thousands of European Jews settled in Shanghai in the 1930s and 1940s to escape the Holocaust, a few Kaifengers went there to study. But the Shanghai Jews were focused on aiding those persecuted in Europe.

After the Communists took over in 1949, Mao Zedong and Deng Xiaoping fretted that Kaifeng Jews might be subversive. In a 1953 document, they wrote that the “Kaifeng Jewish community is disclosing secrets to the overseas communities and causing trouble.”

Even so, Kaifeng Jews say they weren’t singled out for discrimination. Ms. Guo says that her friends used to tease her, saying she must be smart and good at making money—common Chinese stereotypes of Jews— but she didn’t feel threatened.

As China opened again to foreigners in the 1980s, Jewish tourists, Christian missionaries and foreign academics made their way to Kaifeng, each doling out different advice. Xu Xin, a non-Jewish professor of Jewish studies at Nanjing University, said some Kaifengers turned to him as a kind of rabbi to ask whether or not they were Jewish. He demurred.

These days, many in Kaifeng turn to Timothy Lerner, who calls himself a “messianic Jew”—meaning he was born Jewish but believes in Christ as the Messiah—to learn Hebrew and Jewish customs. Mr. Lerner acknowledges that his visa was revoked by the Chinese government in 2006 for evangelizing, but says he doesn’t try to convince anyone to follow his religious beliefs. He says he set up the “Kaifeng Israel School” to help Kaifeng Jews “learn the Jewish lifestyle” and move to Israel, where about a dozen of them have taken up residence, thanks largely to funds from Shavei Israel, an Israeli group.

Others in the Jewish community are suspicious. Shi Lei, one of the first Kaifeng Jews to study in Israel, blames Mr. Lerner for “creating factions” in the tiny community with his school, though Mr. Lerner says Mr. Shi misunderstands his efforts.

Today, Kaifeng Jews tread with caution given China’s ban on unauthorized religious activity. The Jewish descendants say they rarely meet in groups of 10—the number required by Jewish law for a religious service—for fear the government might consider that a political gathering. They make DVDs of themselves wearing traditional Chinese garb while they light Sabbath candles, to portray the act as a folk custom.

Passover is celebrated as a restaurant meal, not as a religious gathering, though some pass out matzos sent from Hong Kong.

As for Jewish tourist sites, there isn’t much to see. Several stone tablets from different Kaifeng synagogues are stored in an unmarked, padlocked room in the Kaifeng Municipal Museum.

Some of the city’s notables (none of whom are Jewish) are looking to boost tourism by rebuilding the Kaifeng synagogue, but as a museum so as not to inflame the Chinese government. “You could have tourists stay a night with local Jewish descendants to see what their lives are like,” says Su Linzhong, a management professor at Kaifeng University. “They are so emotional about their grandparents.”

—Yang Jie contributed to this article.

Write to Bob Davis at bob.davis@wsj.com

Originally published here.

Itamar Eichner

Israel Jewish Scene

Ohel Rachel was built in 1920 to accommodate the large contingent of Baghdadi Jews that had settled Shanghai since the 1870s. Founded by the legendary tycoon Jacob Sassoon, the ivy-covered, Greek Revival style building once housed 30 Torahs and had the capacity to seat 700 congregants. With the exception of 2 years during World War II, it operated daily until 1952. In 2002, it was listed on the World Monuments Watch list of endangered buildings.

Before this announcement, Ohel Rachel was not open to visitors as it is part of the Shanghai Education Commission compound, a governmental organization. Regardless, it is seen as an enduring symbol of Shanghai Jewry. Hopefully access to the building will last beyond Expo 2010′s run from May 1 through October 31st.

More information on this story can be found here.

photograph by invidia
story submitted by JMN member, Sonia Rosen

Cut off from the Jewish world for hundreds of years until it was “discovered” by a Jesuit priest in 1605 CE, the Kaifeng community remained intact until the 19th century when it disappeared from the Jewish map. Today, this ancient Jewish community is undergoing a remarkable resurgence. Shi Lei is a descendant of one of the original Jewish families, believed to have settled in Kaifeng between 960 and 1127 CE.

An accomplished and experienced speaker, Shi Lei will present the history of this remarkable community, offering insight into the ability of some remnants of the community to survive under difficult, even impossible, circumstances. Today, some 300 descendants still live in Kaifeng, and while some Jewish traditions have been forgotten, others have been preserved through the centuries. Like Shi Lei, many young people desire to learn about their origins. Eighteen of them are currently studying in Israel.

Shi Lei is a graduate of Henan University in the province of Henan, China. From 2001 to 2002, he studied Jewish history and religion in Israel at Bar-Ilan University, continuing his studies at Machon Meir Yeshiva in Jerusalem. Now a tour operator and national tour guide, Shi Lei leads private and group tours to Kaifeng and other Chinese cities with Jewish sites of interest, including Beijing, Harbin, Xi’an and Shanghai.

This year’s Kulanu-Kaifeng speaking tour will run from April 29 through May 23, 2010 and is brought to us in cooperation with the Sino-Judaic Insitute. Kulanu has posted his travel calendar online here.