The last paradise in Europe?

Upon contemplating on the history of Portugal, and taking into account the recent growth of the Jewish community, we cannot help but ponder the lessons it offers about tolerance, the preservation of remembrance and the search for a world where no community needs to flee for security. As we witness the cycles of history, the country remains a reminder of the refuge it once offered and the vigilance needed to prevent the return of dark times.

During World War II, as Europe was engulfed in conflict and genocide, Lisbon became an unexpected sanctuary for Jews fleeing Nazi oppression. Its status as a neutral country under the Salazar regime provided a momentary paradise for those escaping the horrors of war and antisemitism.

Lisbon was a critical waypoint for Jews heading towards the United States. The city’s port was bustling with ships, not just of trade but of hope, carrying refugees away from the war-torn lands. While many continued their journey across the Atlantic, some Jewish families chose to remain in Portugal, viewing it as a “last paradise” in Europe, a place untouched by the direct horrors of the Nazi regime due to Portugal’s neutrality in the war.

The echoes of history resonated recently in the heart of Lisbon, where a vigil was held in response to the antisemitic violence we witnessed this month in Amsterdam. The gathering took place at a location steeped in historical significance—the São Domingos Church, adjacent to the memorial commemorating the victims of the 1506 Lisbon Massacre. This dark event that started in the church, also known as the Lisbon Pogrom or the Easter Slaughter, saw the murder of thousands of converted Jews, an act that preceded the formal establishment of the Inquisition in Portugal. The choice of venue for the vigil underscored a deep historical continuity of Jewish suffering and resistance.

The irony of fate is not lost on those who remember that many Jews fleeing the Lisbon massacre centuries ago found refuge in Amsterdam, where they helped establish one of Europe’s most vibrant Sephardic communities. The Portuguese Synagogue in Amsterdam became a testament to this diaspora’s wealth and resilience. However, the recent events in Amsterdam have tragically mirrored the past, with a new wave of antisemitic violence reminding us that history often repeats itself in the most unwelcome ways.

The narrative of Lisbon as a refuge finds itself intertwined with contemporary issues, notably the controversy surrounding a ship that recently docked in Portugal. The vessel, suspected by some to be used to carrying arms to Israel, became a focal point for political activism. In a display of solidarity with the Palestinian cause, the Portuguese extreme leftist party Bloco de Esquerda, along with the BDS movement, also organized a vigil. 

The second vigil witnessed a diminished congregation compared to the first one; however, the Portuguese media exerted greater endeavor in disseminating the narrative of a political faction endorsing terrorist entities rather than reporting on an event denouncing violence and antisemitism with the presence of Israel’s newly appointed ambassador to Portugal, Oren Rosenblat. One must not overlook that propaganda transcends the mere fabrication of falsehoods; it equally involves the suppression of veracious accounts.