24/5/99

The power of one woman

For a time in Judy Feld Carr's life, she was anything but a mild-mannered Toronto housewife. For a time, she was the superhero of the Jewish world.
    She was an ordinary person living a routine life, with more than enough to do just tending to her family.
    Then ...
    It's as if she was engrossed in an adventure-thriller, and she let her imagination wander into escapist fantasy. Judy to the rescue!
    But it was a true story, and now there really is such a book, with Judy as the hero.  “The Ransomed of God,” written by Harold Troper (Malcolm Lester Publishers), is being launched in Toronto on May 25, telling the incredible tale of Carr's real-life adventure-thriller.
    Judy Carr -- practically single-handedly -- rescued the Jewish community of Syria. She acted on behalf of no one but herself. She had no background, no backing, no experience, and frankly, no idea of what she was getting into.
    With about 60 Jews still remaining in Syria, the book cannot be a tell-all. "There was a great deal of danger, but I don't want it publicized at this stage," she says in an interview from Canada (she also maintains a home in Jerusalem). "There is still so much that cannot be told."
    In 1972, Carr learned of the Syrian Jewish plight in The Jerusalem Post International Edition. By the time she "came out of the cold" 23 years later, her accomplishment was monumental: "I brought out a few thousand," she says, as unaffectedly as if talking about a shopping spree.
    She took upon herself the frightful responsibility of the fate of other human beings. A mistake, a rash move, could have resulted in brutal punishment or death. "I had to have courage to make the necessary arrangements, especially for children I did not know. It is difficult to take responsibility for someone else's child, and the emotional burden if the rescue did not work."
    But, she says, there was only "triumph, when I got the call that another person was free." In her one-woman war against Syrian tyranny, there was not a single casualty.
    She operated through stealthily-placed phone calls, telegrams, mailings and personal contacts, raising money privately for bribes. "When I started, all I did was send boxes of religious items into Syria, only what the rabbis requested. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine how things would end up."
    No one but her husband knew what she was up to, yet she raised large sums through local synagogues and individuals for what was vaguely termed "aid for Syrian Jewry." Negotiating from afar, she funneled $50,000 to save one desperate family. Dealing with corrupt and often cruel Syrians -- such as judges, the police and prison officials -- she had to steel her nerves to play their dirty game. One man was permitted to leave with his four children, but was forced to choose only two of them at the airport. Another family was told they had to leave their infant behind. Through will and skill, Carr eventually won their freedom.
    "From time to time, during the secret exodus, there were references in the press to Syrian Jewish families being separated. The truth is that I was the major cause of those separations," she admits in a now-it-can-be-told revelation. "Rarely could I get an entire family out together. The Syrian Secret Police, callously, would only permit one or two family members to leave.
    "I had to make parents choose -- to let one or two children leave for the unknown, not knowing when and if the rest of the family would get out.
    "On one occasion, a father left his teenage son in our home in Toronto and returned to Damascus because the rest of his family was forced to stay behind."
    She also managed to smuggle out, using deftly-placed baksheesh (bribery), religious artifacts that the Syrian authorities would not release. Among the items is "a wonderful manuscript from the 14th century." The artifacts, including two Torah scrolls, are now warehoused at the National Library in Jerusalem.
    Keeping her activities secret from the Syrians for 23 years was hard enough; nothing was known to her family and friends -- and somehow, she had to come up with hundreds of thousands of dollars from donations, without revealing what it was for.
    Her Conservative synagogue in Toronto, Beth Tzedec, launched the Feld Fund, originally to cover the cost of sending religious books to Damascus and Aleppo. Contributions as small as $3 gave her the wherewithal to buy Jews. "People gave without being told of specifics, relying purely on my assurances as to the need."
    She lobbied governments, diplomats, UN officials, Jewish organizations; as chairwoman of the National Task Force for Syrian Jews, she drummed up awareness and concern for the issue worldwide. But she was not mere noise. The world can only do so much; one person can do so much more.
    "I believe in the power of One. If you want to do something, and you're determined, you will achieve it despite the obstacles."  
    Who is this woman who outfoxed the most trenchant of regimes? A grandmother who stands barely five-foot-three, a musicologist; torched by personal tragedy, she was a victim herself. Refusing to submit to grief, she says she "loves to laugh." Not the stuff of subterfuge.
    "I had to be tough at times, not only in dealing with the Syrians and the ransoming of Jews, which was horrendous, but in my own life after my husband's death." Dr. Ronald Feld was active with her at the beginning of her mission, but died suddenly in 1973 of a heart attack. He was 40, leaving Judy with three small children to raise alone. (She later remarried.)
    Judy Feld Carr now looks back on her mission with wonder: that it happened at all, that she did it. She can bask in the satisfaction, the rewards, the tributes. Jewish, Canadian and Israeli organizations -- and governments -- have honored her with humanitarian awards, scholarships in her name, even  public praise in Ottawa's House of Commons.
    Foremost is a letter she received from prime minister Yitzhak Rabin in February 1995. "... To list all your varied activities for the rescue of this oppressed and tormented community would require a book," he wrote prophetically. "Very few people, if any, have contributed as greatly as you have. The Jews of Syria who were rescued and the State of Israel owe you so much, and will never be able to reward you as you deserve... Judy, the State of Israel salutes you."
    But nothing is quite like the feeling that, among the thousands of Syrian Jews now living free, there are numerous young girls named, in her honor, Judy.