July of Destruction: Pope Paul IV and Italy’s Jews
Today, which corresponds to the 15th of Tammuz 5785 on the Hebrew calendar, we stand just days away from the start of Bein HaMetzarim, the three weeks of mourning between the 17th of Tammuz and the 9th of Av, when the Jewish people commemorate the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem along with other moments of collective tragedy throughout history.
In Italy too, during a July within Bein HaMetzarim, a decree was issued that would forever alter the life of a Jewish community. On July 14, 1555, Pope Paul IV promulgated the Cum nimis absurdum bull, corresponding to the 22nd of Tammuz 5315, just days after that year’s Bein HaMetzarim began.
That day marked a tragic shift. The bull enforced the segregation of Jews into ghettos, requiring visible identification badges, banning interactions with Christians except when absolutely necessary for work, prohibiting property ownership, and barring Jewish businesses from operating on Christian holidays. Jewish physicians were forbidden from treating Christian patients, even when urgently requested. Regulations were imposed on lending practices and interest calculations, and Jewish account books could no longer be kept in Hebrew, leading many to adopt Latin script for Italian writings. Jews were restricted to working only as rag dealers, limited to a single synagogue per city, and forbidden from employing Christian wet nurses or domestic workers.
At the time, more than half of Italy’s Jewish population lived within the Papal States, including regions such as Campania, Lazio, Umbria, Marche, and Emilia-Romagna. The Jewish community of Rome, the largest in Italy with around 1.500 members, attempted to offer 40.000 scudi to have the bull revoked, but their plea was rejected.
The enforcement of the Jewish badge requirement was immediate, and the construction of ghetto walls began at the expense of the Jewish communities themselves. Similar measures soon spread to Bologna, a city with eleven synagogues and a significant Jewish money-changing guild, where Jews were confined to the ghetto on May 8, 1556. The same policies were extended across other cities under Papal rule. Within six months, Jews were forced to sell their properties under harsh conditions. As they were not permitted to own even the homes within the ghettos where they were compelled to live, a legal mechanism known as jus hazakkà was introduced, granting Jewish tenants a stable right of residence within the ghetto in an attempt to prevent evictions and arbitrary rent increases by landlords. These persecutions led to forced conversions and migrations, with many seeking refuge in more tolerant territories, particularly under the Dukes of Urbino and the Este family in Ferrara.
One of the most harrowing episodes unfolded in Ancona, where a group of Portuguese marranos, including the notable physician Amato Lusitano, had found shelter under papal assurances of protection. Paul IV abruptly rescinded these protections, and in 1556, twenty-four marranos, including one woman, were burned alive in a brutal auto-da-fé (a public Inquisition execution) in the city square, while others were imprisoned. One prisoner took his own life in jail, twenty-seven were sent as galley slaves to Malta, and thirty managed to escape by bribing officials. A few found refuge in Pesaro under the protection of the Duke of Urbino, including Lusitano, who later fled to Salonika, where he died during a plague outbreak.
These events sent shockwaves across Europe. The Ottoman Sultan protested, demanding the release of the prisoners and offering them Ottoman protection. Even the city of Ancona joined the protests. From Constantinople, the marrana Doña Gracia Mendes, who had lived in Ferrara, organized a boycott of the port of Ancona, redirecting trade to the port of Pesaro under the control of the Duke of Urbino. In Ferrara, despite the objections of Duke Alfonso d’Este, the Inquisition established its presence, leading to further persecutions that affected Jewish scholars, including figures such as Isaac Abrabanel.
Remembering this July of destruction reminds us that every generation faces its own “narrow straits” (metzarim).
