The emigration of India's Jews: the diaspora becomes a diaspora once again

A Keralite King Receives Jewish Refugees 

The Jews came to India in 70AD.

They came in their most forsaken hour, when Jerusalem had fallen to Emperor Vespasian’s son Titus, when their Second Temple had been destroyed and desecrated, when God’s chosen people were being slaughtered in the streets by merciless Roman legions, they came to India.

In India, they found a new home. The Jews lived here in peace and prosperity, worshipped their chosen God, retained their distinctive customs and identity, won honour from the local kings (the Mattancheri synagogue in Cochin shares a wall with the Maharaja’s palace).

And then they left. 

After two thousand years on these shores, the Jews started going “home” to the land of their forefathers when Israel was created in 1948. Today, there aren't enough young Jews who still live in Cochin for its storied synagogue to conduct religious services.

These Jews had a choice. Their hand was not forced, they faced no famines, no pogroms, no trains filled with mutilated corpses, no extreme conditions. They obviously had no lived experience of their ancient homeland. Yet, almost all of them chose to leave. Unlike the Goans who were presented with a similar choice and chose to stay.

Why? The simplest answer is money. Israel has always been a richer country than Portugal, but that answer feels incomplete. The income gap between Portugal and Israel (see chart below) doesn’t feel big enough to explain a difference in emigration rates of ~15% vs. ~100%.

The ideal of Israel - a brotherhood of the devout, dedicating their lives to their sacred motherland, working shoulder to shoulder to make the desert bloom (I was brought up on Leon Uris’ Exodus) – may have offered something more uplifting than the Salazar dictatorship.

But the longer I think about it the more drawn to the circular logic of emigration (or for that matter, most human behaviour). 

More Indian Jews emigrated because many Indian Jews had already emigrated. There was nothing to stay for, nothing left to be a part of. Fewer Goans emigrated because only a few Goans had emigrated. Goa still felt like home.

What next? The Indian diaspora in Israel aren’t coming home to India anytime soon. But do they still feel a connection with India? Is there a kernel of goodwill, understanding and respect for us over in Israel? Maybe there is.

I was cheered up inordinately by this picture (downloaded from the BBC). It shows Israeli Jews of Indian origin wearing whites, sporting the Indian cricket team's ODI colours.

Members of the Indian diaspora in Israel
Wearing the colours of the Indian cricket team

Next stop for the IPL: CSK fan club events in Tel Aviv and Haifa?

Whistle Podu, Israel!

"Asgard is not a place. Asgard is a people."

Surtur straddles the ruins of Asgard
as Thor and Hela face off

"Asgard is not a place. Asgard is a people."

But is it? 

Would Israel still be Israel if it were not in the holy land?

Would Hogwarts still be Hogwarts if it were rehoused in a steel and glass structure in London?

For context “Asgard is not a place. It’s a people” is from the Marvel movie Thor: Ragnarok! 

Thor (the most powerful hero in the universe) has used the demon Surtur to destroy his hometown Asgard. This will also destroy Hela (Thor’s evil sister) who derives her power from Asgard. 

Thor and his superhero friends rescue the people of Asgard from the collapsing city. They load them up into a spacecraft and ferry them off to a new life on a new planet. 

This collateral damage is worth it because as the all-father Odin explains to Thor “Asgard is not a place. It’s a people.” 

The all-father presents his argument as if it is obvious, as if it is self-evident that Asgard is its people. Hollywood clearly assumes that the trade-off is obvious, and Hollywood’s assumptions are a pretty good barometer of the zeitgeist. 

But stepping outside the Marvel-verse, is it really that obvious? Is it even sort of true at all?

There are plenty of real-life situations that parallel that of Asgard.

Consider the Maldives. The entire country is just about one meter above sea level. Most estimates are that the islands will be submerged by 2100. The people (about 500,000 people) could be relocated. But is it obvious to those people that the Maldives are not a place, but a people? 

Or Tehri - the ancient town on the banks of the sacred Baghirathi river - which was submerged under the Tehri dam? People were relocated. They lived. Were they OK?

Or Chernobyl. Its evacuee population was relocated to the purpose-built Soviet city of Slavutych (now in the Ukraine). Maybe these people were OK. Maybe Chernobyl was sort of soulless anyway.

Professor Stephen Landsberg, the Armchair Economist, asked this question sharply and provocatively after hurricane Katrina. Back in 2005 the American government was planning to spend over $200 billion on New Orleans. The pre-Katrina population of the New Orleans metro region was, say, 1 million. That is $200,000 per individual, $800,000 for a family of four. Would people rather take the lump sum of  $800,000 and relocate to an American city of their choice? Or have the government spend $200 billion on their behalf rebuilding New Orleans? 

Landsberg’s point was the most people would rather take the $800,000 and move. It’s a good point, as long as the thing being destroyed is not sacred, as long as “Asgard is not a place. It’s a people.”

I guess it hinges on whether the place in question is sacred. 

I guess mighty Odin the all-father is well qualified to take that decision.

Ari Ben Cannan in The Promised Land of Israel 
From the movie Exodus
Starring Paul Newman