As was discussed in my previous article in Transactions, volume 49 (“Bradford’s Jewish History: A Reconsideration, Part One”), the Jewish community in Bradford contributed a great deal to the development of the city and one could argue that they were largely responsible for the city’s prosperity in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. However, in the years following the Second World War to the present day there has been a noticeable change not only in the fortunes of Bradford as a whole, but also in the Jewish community. There has been a significant decline in the number of Jewish people living in Bradford in the past few decades and, increasingly, individuals raised in the faith have shifted towards a less observant way of life; this is more of a trend among those born post-1970. Rabbi Heilbron noted that by the mid-1970s Bradford had become “a fairly elderly community” because “many of the young people go away to college or university and do not return.”1 This remains the case today, as the majority of the Jewish population in the city are over sixty years old.
Many individuals who grew up in the community in the postwar years recall a fairly observant and religious childhood, for example, Suzanne Korn, whose experiences will be discussed in further detail below. The appendices here record interviews conducted by email in 2015 with those quoted in this article. Rabbi Dr Walter Rothschild, a rabbi for several Jewish communities in Germany, is one such individual. His family were “quite observant and active” within the community, “went to the [Reform] synagogue service almost every Friday evening” and “had Shabbat and Seder at home” (Appendix F). It is clear from Rabbi Rothschild’s recollections that Judaism and being active within the community were of great importance to his family. His father held a number of positions on the executive of the synagogue such as Secretary, Treasurer, and later Chairman, and his mother took part in the Ladies Guild. For a time Rabbi Rothschild was responsible for the Bradford Jewish community while being the Rabbi for the Sinai Synagogue in Leeds from 1984 to 1994 and then for an additional two years afterwards (Appendix F). This occurred at a time when the community had no real leadership. Rabbi Rothschild would “cover . . . the whole region for certain issues such as funerals and all beit din matters” (Appendix F). This situation became noticeable while Rabbi Rothschild was a child: he recalls that the number of children became so few in the community that for Sunday morning classes they were “collected by minibus and taken to join the classes in Leeds” (Appendix F). The numbers may have been on the decline but it is clear to see that those involved with the community were committed to keeping it going in whatever way they could and this spirit is still evident among those in the community today.
Rudi Leavor, Chairman of the Bradford Reform Synagogues, came to Bradford in 1937 as antisemitic incidents in his home city of Berlin became more and more commonplace (Appendix E). On arrival in Bradford his family were keen to assimilate into the community, they “did not speak German outside of the house”, and later anglicized their surname from Librowicz to Leavor (Appendix E). Leavor describes a childhood similar to that of Rabbi Rothschild’s, although his family were more hesitant in their religion. He became involved with the Reform Synagogue through his parents, who joined after receiving pressure from members who informed them that if they did not do so the Synagogue would “have to fold”. Leavor initially did not want to join the Reform Synagogue and instead showed a preference for becoming a member of the Orthodox congregation. However, he did not want to leave his parents so he decided to attend the Reform. It was a good decision, as he has been elected Chairman of the Reform Synagogue several times. Leavor also often leads burial services and is much involved with the choir and “almost singlehandedly” keeps the community going. Like Rabbi Rothschild’s family, his own parents would go on to be heavily involved with the synagogue; his father, a dentist by trade, “offered . . . weekly post-Bar Mitzvah classes for a while at his home” and he served as Chairman. He has also recognized the impact of the dwindling membership figures, commenting in 2004 that “in ten, twenty years time, I think both synagogues will no longer be here.”2 Of his own relationship with Judaism Leavor has commented that while “Judaism plays a large part in [his] life” it is “mainly (now) in struggling to keep the synagogue alive because of so few members” (Appendix E). However, it is this commitment to the Jewish community that, it could be argued, continues to keep it thriving in the twenty-first century.
According to the Constitution of the Reform Synagogue, in the event of closure much of the power and control, including that over the Reform section at Scholemoor Cemetery, will revert to Sinai Synagogue in Leeds “until such time as a Reform Synagogue can be re-established in Bradford.”3 There have been real concerns in the past few decades that this may occur. Services now take place once a month and the last wedding held was between Rabbi Sylvia Rothschild and Martin Fischer in 1982, which highlights how aged the community has become.4 They have managed to avoid closure by receiving funding from the Heritage Lottery Fund, first in 1998 and again in 2013.5 This has enabled considerable amounts of conservation work to be carried out. The question that arises is what will become of the Reform Synagogue when there is no one left to run it. In her 2001 study of synagogues in Britain and Ireland, Sharman Kadish has noted that as membership decreases or becomes non-existent, particularly in provincial communities, synagogues are often converted into other institutions. Some have been transformed into cinemas, while London’s Spitalfields Great Synagogue, which was originally a chapel, has been converted into a mosque, in what Kadish has described as “the best example of the recycling of a place of worship.”6 As the Reform Synagogue in Bradford is a Grade II listed building it cannot be demolished, so another use will have to be found. In comparison, the former Orthodox Synagogue in Spring Gardens was turned into a Muslim education centre after the congregation moved to a larger property in Springhurst Road in 1970, so repurposing is a viable option.
The size of the Reform community was of such great concern that it became the subject of the synagogue’s newsletter, The Star, in October 1982. In an article titled “The Significance of a Small Community,” the author questions if they “have a role to fulfil within the ambit of Judaism” any more. However, the author encourages members not to dwell on the fact that they are small in number, but to act as an example for other congregations that have found themselves in a similar position. Most importantly, their size means that all members know one another. He writes that in “trying to keep going in hard climates” it has “enriched [their] regard for each other” and enabled them to “enjoy unique identity with each member.”7 Seeing the positive side was important for the community in order for them to keep up morale and to ensure that those remaining in the congregation continued to attend services.
The leadership voiced concerns too. In an impassioned letter to the members, Roy Stroud, Life President of the Synagogue and the son of Oswald Stroud and grandson of Rabbi Strauss, calls for greater attendance and participation. He writes that while they are “committed Reform Jews and proud members of a Congregation well respected in the greater Bradford community”, with “a beautiful and historic Synagogue,” their “presence at Services on a more regular basis” would be greatly appreciated. He goes on to urge them “to put aside a couple of hours, at least once a month, to come to a Saturday morning service.”8 Stroud’s fears over attendance and membership highlight the decrease in the Jewish population of Bradford and show a shift towards a more secular way of life.
Recently, the Reform congregation has developed a friendship with the local Muslim community. Indeed, just as Rabbi Strauss worked to foster good relations with his Christian neighbours in the late 1800s, so too have the Jews and Muslims in the twenty-first century. This relationship began when the Muslim community learnt that the Reform Jews had been struggling for some time with the upkeep of the synagogue. They first donated money in 2010 when Action for Business, a social enterprise company, gave £500 towards upkeep.9 This helped somewhat but by 2013 more and more repairs were needed and the synagogue’s forty-five members were unable to contribute enough money to pay for this. Leavor, by then the President, “reluctantly proposed the nuclear option”, to sell Bradford Reform Synagogue, bringing an end to the Reform presence in Bradford completely.10 After learning of their struggles, Zulfi Karim and the Bradford Council for Mosques intervened. Along with a donation of £1,400 from the businessman Khaled Pervais, contributions of the local restaurateur Zulifar Ali and the Carlisle Business Centre, initial repairs were carried out. This has ensured to date that the Reform Synagogue can remain open.
It is also important to consider the implications of this friendship in terms of Muslim–Jewish relations, which are tense elsewhere in the world. Indeed, the situation in Bradford is so unique that it caught the attention of the both the national and world press – an interview between Karim and Leavor was featured in The Guardian as one of their top stories of 2013.11 When one considers the difficult relationship that exists between Jews and Muslims in other countries, the situation in Bradford appears all the more remarkable. As Karim himself has put it, by “working hard to bring people of different faiths together” it has become possible “to support one another as good neighbours.”12 It breaks down pre-existing barriers, allowing people of different religions to co-exist peacefully, and enables a small community to continue to exist in the city. Leavor has commented that Bradford shows that “the two religions and communities can and will stick together.”13 Indeed, Bradford should serve as a positive example for other communities across the world. The interfaith relationship is of great importance in the survival of the Jewish community and fostering that is perhaps one way in which they can ensure they remain a part of modern Bradford.
Evidence of the close relationship is apparent in the fact that the Muslim community as a whole continue to be involved with the Reform synagogue. In September 2014, Karim delivered the sermon at the service for Rosh Hashanah where he spoke about a trip he and his brother had taken to Mecca and Medina. In an article for the Telegraph & Argus, Leavor described the occasion as “a first anywhere” and remarked that it “should be celebrated as another step forward in intercommunity relations in Bradford.”14
This was not the end, however. In demonstration of their close relationship, Jani Rashid, the Head of Diversity and Cohesion at Bradford Council’s Child Services, was given a place on the Bradford Synagogue Council in 2015. Leavor has said of Rashid that he “has been a long-term ally and significant supporter of the synagogue for some years now” and “an unfailing partner in the fight to keep the building open and flourishing.”15 The decision to bring Rashid onto the board “passed unanimously.”16 It was well received by Reform Jews too: for example, Tony Yablon has described it as a “wonderful” development (Appendix C). It is yet another signifier of the close relationship that has developed between the Muslim and Jewish communities in the city.
It is important to consider the Orthodox community at this stage too. In the postwar years attendance had remained steady at Bradford Hebrew Congregation, with slightly higher numbers than the Reform. Indeed, the move in 1970 to a new synagogue was because their place of worship could no longer accommodate the growing membership.17 That being said, they were by no means a huge congregation. Suzanne Korn attended the synagogue with her family as a child and a young adult. Born in 1960, into what she describes as a “traditional family”, she attended cheder, her brother had a bar mitzvah and the family kept kosher. She describes the community as “very tolerant . . . in many ways” but that it also maintained “some old-fashioned traditions which it never shook off” (Appendix B). This last is something that has affected Korn’s relationship with Judaism ever since.
Korn has also remarked on what it was like growing up in an increasingly small community. Much like the article in The Star, she portrays it as advantageous, noting that “everybody was considered important and had a part to play.” It is clear that it fostered a strong sense of community among the Orthodox Jews. Although Korn moved away from Bradford, she states that she “was very proud to be a member of the Bradford Hebrew Congregation” (Appendix B).
Tamar Yellin, an award-winning writer from Haworth, was involved with the running of the synagogue. She was born in Leeds and raised in the Orthodox community there. From the age of five she was taught Hebrew by her father, attended cheder and regularly attended synagogue. Despite this, she has remarked that she “never really felt part of the Leeds Jewish community.” This feeling intensified after her parents passed away and she “became detached from the Jewish community and alienated from Jewish religious practice.” She also married outside the faith, which compounded her sense of being an outsider. However, she began teaching Muslim children and this made her “more aware of [her] Jewishness” (Appendix D). This is something that Yellin has reflected on in her own writing. In her short story collection, Kaf ka in Bronteland (2006), the title story looks at the way in which people identify with their heritage. The female protagonist learns Urdu from a Muslim woman while she teaches her English, and during one lesson the Muslim woman’s children are preparing to go to the mosque, at which the narrator remarks that she is “filled with nostalgia for something [she] never had.”18
Yellin was initially reluctant to become involved with the Bradford Orthodox community because of her decision to marry a non-Jew. However, with her growing sense of Jewishness and need to reconnect to her heritage, she decided to do so after the Bradford Orthodox community reached out to her in 2005, just after her novel, The Genizah at the House of Shepher, had been published. They invited her to come to the synagogue and she soon became a regular attendee. Her fears were unfounded and she describes them as “very friendly, relaxed, and open”, and her husband “was invited to celebrations and important services.” Yellin went on to work as the secretary for the Synagogue for many years and also gave tours to school groups (Appendix D).
This did not last, however. As more and more of the younger generation moved away from Bradford and turned away from Judaism, and as the number of elderly people declined, attendance and membership at the synagogue decreased significantly. By 2013, they could not even draw together the ten men needed for a minyan. In fact, Leavor often attended the services in order to make up the numbers for this (Appendix E) and Rabbi Rothschild recalls that the rabbi at the time “would drive round at 7am picking people up in the (often vain) hope of getting a minyan” (Appendix F). Albert Waxman, who had served as President for twenty-five years, decided to retire from the position and there was no one to take over the job. All these factors combined meant that the Bradford Hebrew Congregation was forced to close in 2013.19 The last service, the deconsecration ceremony, was given on 7 April 2013. The Five Scrolls that were housed in the synagogue were given away to various communities, including one in Krakow. Rabbi Anthony Gilbert, who led the ceremony, urged those present to “leave . . . today with positive thoughts and feel enlightened . . . not saddened.” He reminded them that they “will be living on in other communities” through the Five Scrolls, which “will be used every Shabbat and Yom Tov.”20 Furthermore, Yellin had “the sad task” of acting as “secretary to the winding up committee” and had to attend synagogue in Harrogate despite its distance (Appendix D). The building is still owned by the congregation but no longer serves as a synagogue, and, like Yellin, the remaining Orthodox Jews in Bradford have to look further afield to continue to practise their religion.
It is more and more common to find people from Bradford of Jewish heritage who no longer identify with the religion. Diane Fairfax is a key example of this. She was born in Bradford in 1958 and has continued to live and work in the city ever since. Her father came to England on the Kindertransport in December 1938 but was not placed in the Bradford Hostel. He first worked as a tailor, then fought during the Second World War, and afterwards became an engineer. Fairfax’s mother was born in the city and was a homemaker while her children were growing up. She later worked as a local government officer. Fairfax has stressed that her family “was not religious at all”. Indeed, her father “consciously left Judaism with the Nazis”, although he did return to it later in his life. She notes that she and her siblings were “encouraged to believe whatever [they] wanted to”, and Fairfax herself “flirted with religion”. For a time she attended Sunday school at a church, but only so that she “could be Mary in the Nativity play”. Instead of Judaism, it seems education and other pursuits were encouraged. Fairfax writes that her parents were “intellectuals with a love of literature, politics, music, and the arts” and, rather than requiring their children to receive a Jewish education, they encouraged them to pursue other interests. Today, Fairfax identifies as “a cultural Jew” although, in a similar way to Yellin and her “broken history”, she does have “artefacts about the house” such as “menorah candles and a mezuzah on the door” but “that’s as far as it goes” (Appendix A). They serve as reminders of her heritage although they no longer serve any purpose in her daily life.
Fairfax has little connection to Judaism as she was not raised in a household where it was practised or given particular importance. However, many second-, third-, or now even fourth-generation Jews leave the religion despite their heritage and the fact that they were raised in a Jewish household. This could be caused by two factors: first, the impact of assimilation into a country where the main religion has been Christianity and, second, and one could argue most importantly, it is a part of a wider trend of increased secularization in the UK as people shift away from religious practice generally, many feeling it is no longer applicable to their lives. Leavor’s children, for example, no longer identify as Jewish. They were taught Hebrew for a time at the Reform Synagogue but little “stuck with them”.21 His four children also married outside Judaism, which he believes is the reason why they do not identify closely with the religion. He notes too that one of his children told him “that religion no longer plays any part in their lives” and all four attend synagogue only on some High Holidays, “but”, states Leavor, “only because I ask them to.”22 It is the same for Tony Yablon’s children, one of whom “is married to a Jew” but does “not even belong to a synagogue” and “the other is married to a non-Jew” (Appendix C). It has become more and more common for members of the Reform Synagogue to attend services only on special occasions, rather than regularly coming. This had been addressed in The Star in a 1982 article titled “The Once a Year Jew”, demonstrating that fears over attendance have long been a cause for concern, particularly as regards the younger generation.23
Even those raised in observant households have begun to question their relationship with Judaism. Indeed, Yellin has addressed the issue of marriage and marrying outside the faith in her work, as noted earlier. In one of her most poignant stories, “The Girlfriend”, she addresses the impact of a family member marrying out. The brother of the narrator is in a relationship with a non-Jewish woman. This causes a great deal of friction among family members, particularly the narrator’s grandmother and mother: the former does not want him to be with “a shiksa” (Gentile woman) while the latter thinks it is “better a shiksa than some Yiddishe bitch!”24 This indicates the generational differences and shows, arguably to an extreme, how attitudes have changed. The narrator’s grandmother maintains a strong attachment to her Jewish roots, keeping a picture of the Negev taken from a Jewish National Fund calendar on her wall above “the brass candlesticks she brought from the shtetl.”25 Her granddaughter, however, notes that they are merely there for show, perhaps even simply for reasons of nostalgia, as “she never lit them” and “she couldn’t even say the proper words.”26 The narrator’s mother, in contrast, is well-educated, a modern second-generation Jew, who does not strictly observe the traditions of Judaism. As noted earlier, Yellin herself married a non-Jewish man, so this story is perhaps representative of her own fears regarding how her husband would be accepted by the broader Jewish community, apparent in her reluctance to join the Orthodox community of Bradford.
Yellin’s sense of being an outsider is present in many of her stories. There seems to be a tension between identifying as Jewish and identifying as British, as well as differences in levels of observance between the generations. As one reviewer has noted, she has a “fascination with identity and belonging.”27 Yellin has had difficulty reconciling her relationship with Judaism with her sense of being British. In an article for the Jewish Quarterly, she has written about her fascination with the Brontë sisters and how she wished to be like them as a teenager. However, the barrier for her was her religion because, “to be Jewish and explore English literature is to stumble periodically into mantraps which recall to you that you are an outsider”, as reflected in the “casual insults and stereotypes” of Jewish people that appear throughout the literature, including that of the Brontë sisters.28 Yellin notes too that this sense of existing on the periphery may have been influenced by the attitude of her parents. She recalls an incident where she was looking at the moors with her mother and Yellin remarked “isn’t it beautiful!” to which her mother “mournfully replied, ‘Aval zeh lo shelanu. But it isn’t ours.’”29 For Yellin, this only seemed to pull her further away from the Jewish community. Despite her distance from them, she found that joining the Bradford Hebrew Congregation made her feel “genuinely . . . part of a Jewish community,” which perhaps demonstrates that her fears of being an outsider were unfounded (Appendix D).
Unlike Yellin, Suzanne Korn has seemingly been rejected by the Orthodox community for never marrying or having children. Although she was brought up in that community and remained observant throughout her adult life, Korn says that as a single woman she feels she has little role in the Jewish community. Korn never had children and strongly suggests that this has led to unfair treatment of herself and others in the same position among the Orthodox. She feels that “single women have no place whatever in Jewish life if they do not get married both from a social and spiritual point of view.” As a consequence of this attitude she finds herself “questioning what Judaism really means if you don’t have a family”, coming to the conclusion that “without [it] Judaism has little to no meaning.” She adds too that “the only time the religion may notice I existed is at my funeral” (Appendix B). This is significant for a number of reasons: it shows how traditions have become a barrier for modern-day Jews and their practice of religion; they have come to feel excluded from Judaism because it does not allow them to adapt its conventions for their own way of life. It is interesting to consider the fact that although Yellin has married a non-Jew, she is still wholeheartedly welcomed into the community, whereas Korn, who is unmarried, is seemingly shunned and pushed to one side. Could it be that the community is just glad that Yellin is married? It is interesting to consider how she would be treated if she were not.
Conclusion
It is fair to suggest that the Jewish community in Bradford is different in 2019 from how it was in the mid-1800s when those first German-Jewish immigrants came to the city. The shift has been drastic and as the years pass their presence in the city can be less easily felt. The size has greatly altered, and this has changed the character of the city. Writing in 1934, when most of the German-Jewish businesses had closed or moved to different parts of the country, J. B. Priestley noted how different the city was without the Jews: “I like the city better as it was before, and most of my fellow Bradfordians agree with me. It seems smaller and duller now. I am not suggesting that these German Jews were better men than we are. The point is that they were different and brought more to the city than bank drafts and lists of customers.”30 Their disappearance was keenly felt by all, although it is fair to suggest that nowadays many Bradfordians may not know that the Jewish immigrants had been such an important part of the community. Jacob Behrens and Jacob Moser were two key figures in Bradford and demonstrate how important the German-Jewish immigrants were to the development of the city. What is most interesting now is their relationship with Judaism and how it has changed over the years. These first immigrants were largely secular and many had little or no attachment to Judaism. Indeed, it was a struggle even to bring together a congregation. Eventually they managed to do so and the Reform community is still present in Bradford to this day.
Secularisation of the Bradford Jews from the First World War continued into the Second World War, when the shift away from religious practice truly began. Humbert Wolfe and William Rothenstein are notable examples of this change. Bradford’s Hostel, set up during the Second World War, demonstrates that while the Bradford Jews may have been estranged from religious practices, they were deeply committed to helping those facing persecution in Nazi Germany. The refugee boys who lived at the Hostel were given a Jewish education, although they were encouraged to acculturate to English life as quickly as possible.
What of the community today, then? Sadly, the Jewish community in Bradford continues to dwindle in size. Leavor notes that “it is a struggling community which in a few decades may well be extinct” (Appendix E). Similarly, Rabbi Rothschild has noted that the Reform community “is a shadow of what it once was” (Appendix F), due in large part to the departure of the younger community who have moved elsewhere.
It is not all negative, though. The community gather regularly for the High holidays, most recently for Hanukah, where dignitaries from the city and those from the community have gathered together to celebrate. Leavor comments that they “have a Shabbat service once a month” and “all four High Holiday . . . services” too (Appendix E).
Hanukah at Bradford Reform Synagogue, 2018: from left, back row Imran Hussain, MP Bradford East; Marcus Thompson, Mayor of Calderdale; Zafar Ali, Lord Mayor of Bradford; front row Mayoress of Calderdale; Judge Laurence Saffer; Rudi Leavor, President of the Synagogue; Naz Shah, MP Bradford West; Sue Baker, Deputy Lieutenant of West Yorkshire; Manoj Joshi, Hindu Community (Photograph Nigel Grizzard)
Efforts are being made by a local historian, Nigel Grizzard, to draw attention to the history of the Jewish community in Bradford. He leads walking tours of Jewish Bradford and published a pamphlet with Benjamin Dunn, called The Bradford Jewish Heritage Trail, which provides a detailed historical account of the Jewish community in the city.31 Such work is important in drawing attention to the city’s Jewish history and encouraging people to look into how great a part of the city Jewish people once were.
Many who grew up in the community but now live elsewhere still feel connected to the city. Despite now being based in Berlin, Rabbi Rothschild “remains a member” of the synagogue, “pays for the JJBS Burial Insurance scheme for myself and all three children”, and plans to be buried in Scholemoor Cemetery (Appendix F).
While Bradford no longer has a Jewish identity, or is a Jewish city, efforts can still be made to ensure that people are aware of their contribution to it. Of course, life in smaller, more rural Jewish communities differs from the larger, urban counterpart discussed here, but that is a matter for further research. The Reform community in Bradford have fostered good relations with their Muslim neighbours, who had helped save the synagogue. Leavor has commented that in the context of “interfaith” relations the Bradford Jews are “highly respected.”(Appendix E). Grizzard similarly comments that Jews and Muslims exhibit a “harmonious” relationship, and they continue to be close to this day; a further study of this particular relationship and Muslim–Jewish relations in the city would be of great interest. The Orthodox community was initially somewhat larger than its Reform counterpart and many, such as Suzanne Korn, have fond memories of it.
Those of Jewish heritage who live in Bradford are more commonly found to hold no religious beliefs whatsoever any more. Diane Fairfax is a prime example of this: her parents placed greater importance on other pursuits, although she maintains some connection to her Jewish roots through objects she has in the home, such as several menorahs. Even those who were raised to be observant have found themselves becoming distant from Judaism. Tamar Yellin demonstrates the difficulties of balancing Judaism with being British and shows how this can make one feel like an outsider. She did become an active member of the Bradford Hebrew Congregation, however, and found her fears to have been groundless.
Now all that remains are the fragments of “broken history” in the city. The Jewish community in Bradford is representative of many that have come before it, and will undoubtedly come after it.