By Martha Slater
My grandfather, Raymond Joseph Dwek, arrived in the UK on a cold winter’s morning in January 1957. It wasn’t just his first time in Europe, but his first time out of Northern Africa. My Nonno, Italian for grandfather, and his family lived a happy and prosperous life in their home country, Egypt, for most of the 1900s.
Egypt
Hostility towards Jews in Egypt increased after the State of Israel was established in 1948 and came to a head during the Suez Crisis of 1956. Nasserism, a new type of Arab nationalism, had swept across Egypt following the revolution of 1952. The result was an increasingly hostile environment for their Jewish communities. Soon enough, the Egyptian Jews were now seen as the ‘Jews of Egypt’.
Raymond Joseph Dwek, 1957
Business started to slow down, friends slowly distanced themselves, or in my Nonno’s case, threw rocks. By the end of 1956, the Jewish population was forcibly pushed out of Egypt. My Nonno, aged 14, and his family left in a hurry. All with only one bag of belongings each. Each branch of the family was flung over Europe, America and Israel/Palestine.
My Nonno was one of the lucky ones – by some stroke of luck, they were able to get themselves aboard a boat which was headed to Dover. The journey took three weeks as they navigated choppy waters and ports, stopping off in Cyprus, France and eventually getting to Kent and taking the ‘boat train’ to London.
The Journey
The journey was permeated with a feeling of unease – they were leaving their home to arrive in a new country which spoke an entirely different language and had an entirely different culture. But they were grateful for the opportunity that presented itself to settle in Great Britain – a country known for being the home of stability and democracy.
Arrival in London
Upon arrival at London Victoria, they were required to navigate their way to Warrington near Liverpool. My Nonno tells me that his first memories and impression of Britain was the sharp, bitter coldness. Used to the sunny climate of Alexandria, the English winter was a stark difference. He remembers them all laughing about the ridiculousness of the clothes they were wearing – short-sleeved shirts, open-toe sandals, they were completely ill-prepared!
They were initially housed in a refugee camp in an ex-army barracks, organised by the Red Cross. Two Jewish communities came to the army barracks to visit them and were very concerned about their ability to keep Kashrut. However, this was not a significant concern to my Nonno and his family, who were most worried about being able to get their favourite foods, such as aubergines and chickpeas, not commonplace in the UK in the mid-1950s.
Eventually, the family was sponsored by a kind man who let them stay in his house for free. They decorated the house themselves and were thrilled to see both central heating and fitted carpets, two things they did not have in the army barracks or in Egypt. My Nonno joined the local school and quickly started to learn English. Growing up in multicultural Egypt, he was already quite the linguist, fluent in Arabic, Italian and French. Despite the trauma of his abrupt departure from his homeland Egypt, he and his family were able to find and make a home with a new community for themselves in Britain. Consequently, he began to feel British and was welcomed with open arms by the Jewish community and wider Brits alike.
Belonging
Eventually, my Nonno decided to settle in London, where he would have better access to the familiar foods from home as well as the rich cultural hub that the city offers. He considered himself, and still does, as British in his own unique way, which our very democracy and values enable. He has, however, noticed a shift since Brexit in 2016. Hostility towards those who look or sound different has increased, and there’s an air of mistrust and uncertainty. He is concerned about the current treatment of some refugees upon their arrival here. He hopes that he will continue to feel welcome in the country, which he has considered home for the last 69 years.
Since arriving in the UK all those years ago, my Nonno now has four children, five grandchildren and a great-grandchild born earlier this year. His story in Britain has been one of great success, friendship, love and kindness.
As a third-generation refugee myself, it is gut-wrenching to see this change in attitude. The fact that for some refugees, their first impressions are not just the coldness of the weather, but the coldness in attitudes. In the face of an increasingly uncertain world, I think we should remember that we, too, could be strangers in a foreign land again. Gesher Tzar Me’od – all the world is a very narrow bridge.
This Mizrahi Awareness Month, it is special to celebrate all that makes him unique and all that he has achieved.
