9/3/99

Pure Palestinian

I'd only been in the country about three years when I met Ya'acov Castel, and just about everyone I knew then was a recent immigrant.
    He seemed rather colorless, but quiet and decent: perfect for a new flatmate.
    "Tell me what kind of Israeli you are," I said on our first day together, "so I'll know who not to make jokes about."
    He smiled. "I'm no kind, so feel free."
    But you have to be from somewhere, I insisted.
    His answer floored me. "I'm a 17th generation Jerusalemite. So I suppose you could call me a Palestinian."
    I tracked him down again a couple of weeks ago; he's now Lt.-Col. Castel. The first thing I wanted to know was, is there an 18th generation Castel?
    Yes, he has two daughters. But he hadn't told me the whole story 15 years ago.
    "My father's side came here during the Spanish Inquisition, 18 generations ago, but my mother," Ya'acov laughs, "she calls him 'the new immigrant': her side of the family is here since the time of the Second Temple. At least."
    His mother is from Peki'in, the Galilee village renowned for having the longest sustained Jewish presence in the country.
    "She grew up in Peki'in, but when she was 17 all the Jews had to leave, because of the Arab revolt of 1936-39. In fact, she met face-to-face with [Fawzi] Kaukji [who became commander of the Arab Liberation Army in 1948]. The Peki'in Jews all moved to Haifa, then later relocated to Hadera,  where I was born."
    Then perhaps he's no more than a first generation Haderan.
    "Maybe. The truth is, I don't even live in Jerusalem anymore, though if I could choose, that's where I'd be. We live in Re'ut. My wife's from Haifa, and she hates Jerusalem. To paraphrase Agnon, 'I'm a Jerusalemite. It's just by an accident of nature that I was born in Hadera.' "
    His wider maternal pedigree embraces the ancient Zenati family -- "They left Peki'in with everyone, but returned a year later to tend to their lands, the only ones who did" -- and the Tuma clan. 
    "My father's family is urbane, less naive, more open to multiculturalism, more serious, even cynical. My mother's family is rural, more naive, hamula [clan] in structure; very, very close and self-involved and cooperative, there are no petty jealousies and keeping of accounts. It's hard to find that nowadays. 
    "I've inherited something from both sides."
    As you would expect, there is a great sense of pride in the family. Or, families. "At weddings, we're very aware of what it means. It's not just our history; it's our culture, our identity."
    His mother's family numbers "merely" in the hundreds. "There's thousands of Castels, split into three historical branches: Jerusalem, Hebron and Gaza-Safed, plus others who fled the Inquisition and went to Vienna, staying there until Word War I.
    "It's said if the Castels all voted as a bloc, we could account for a Knesset mandate."
    The Castels, who originate from Toledo, Castile, are so-called "Samekh-Tetim" -- the initials standing for Sephardi Tahor, or pure Sephardi. "Up to my father, my family spoke Ladino. Unfortunately, I'm the first generation that doesn't speak it.
    "But these labels aren't really relevant to us. Culturally, I'm more Oriental, certainly, but our identity? With us, you can't look at it like that." Indeed, his forebears were here when most of world Jewry was out in the Diaspora, splitting itself into Sephardi and Ashkenazi spheres.
    Ya'acov is a historian, and as such, "I need to know how much of the lore is historically provable. My mother's side can go back for certain to the 1300s. That is, 700 years we've been here, uninterrupted. Beyond that, there's no doubt the line continues, but it's harder to find evidence. Many believe we've been living here since the days of Joshua, 3,200 years ago. However, it's probable that the family goes back to the time of the Second Temple.
    "On the side of the 'new immigrants,' I'm only 17th generation. But on my mother's side, if I go by history, at least 25 generations; if I go by traditional beliefs, well, who knows.
    "My oldest daughter Noa is eight, and she's starting to understand. Her teacher is talking about it. Noa asked me how long we've been here, so I prepared a presentation for her Grade Three class."
    When Ya'acov was a schoolboy, he was, like all children, subject to teasing. But in his case, there seemed to be a sense of awe.
    "My nickname was 'Bavli.' Why Bavli? Because the other kids joked that I arrived here with Abraham from Babylonia."