WANDERINGS OR THE COMING TOGETHER OF THE GENERATIONS.

The epic story of the martyrdom of Santa Solica Hatchouel (Hatzadica) is well known among the Jews from Morocco. There are number of versions of her fate, based on the fact that by refusing to change her religion she was the victim of the Sultan’s command to be beheaded. Through the conspiracy of a neighbour it was claimed that Solica had pronounced words by which she would embrace Islam.

We were living in London at the time and this was one of the stories related to us as children by my father Hatchuel who was born in Tetuan. We brushed it off as one of Dad’s tales until one day the story appeared in the Sunday paper in the ‘Believe it or not” column by Ripley. This epic story has been handed down from generation to generation by all those connected to the Hatchuel (Hatchouel, Hatchwell, Hatuel etc) families, and as will be seen later it assisted in confirming the common ancestry of my wife and myself.

Through a chance meeting during the World War by a S. African friend of my sister, who was serving in Egypt and met a certain Felix Hatchwell living in Cairo, my father learnt about Hatchwelles living in Egypt and Palestine. (See later). He assumed that they must be connected as they claimed to have originated from Morocco.

My Father left home as a young man finding his way to Rhodesia at the turn of the last century, and as a result of having met a certain Behor Benatar, a native of Rhodis, while travelling in Egypt. This Mr. Benatar was largely responsible in time for bringing numerous of his family and friends to Rhodesia, and who as time passed constituted a large proportion of the Sephardi community that settled there. My father boarded a shi in Alexandria landing in Beira from where he walked through the bush to Penhalonga, an outpost in Rhodesia on the Portuguese border where Mr Benatar has his store.

By contrast my mother arrived in Rhodesia with her parents and brother Hymie, having left Poland and spent some time first in England and then in Cape Town. My parents met in the middle of the night as a result of a fire which occurred in my grandfathers home, my father who was in Salisbury on business, coming out of his hotel to help save whatever was possible.

They were married in Salisbury in 1913 and had four children. My parents were both involved with Jewish communal endeavours. My father was the only Sephardi to serve on the executive of the Ashkenazi Congregation, as Vice President in 1920. My mother was chairlady of the Ladies Jewish Guild which time she organised a Fund raising campaign to build the Jewish Guild Hall in 1921. It is interesting to note here that my uncle Hymie Court, and Ashkenazi, was instrumental in drawing up the constitution of the Sephardic Congregation when it established itself in the 1930s and became its second President.

In 1926 the family relocated to Paris where my youngest brother was born, and then to London. In 1937 the family again moved on, this time to Johannesburg. During all those years, the Rhodesian connection was never broken as my father travelled there frequently on business. During the War I served with the R.A.F. in Rhodesia, and two years later getting married to my wife Aliza in 1953 whom I had met and married while on a chance visit to Israel, we went to live in Salisbury.

I had met Aliza as a result of being diverted on my travels, and having to spend a few days in Israel before returning home. My father had sent me the address of a family of ’Hatchwells’ in Tel Aviv and so I contacted them before arriving. I was met at the Airport by Aliza and her brother and taken to their home. This must have been fated as Aliza and I fell in love at first site; we were engaged within 48 hours, and married two months later. Aliza was a graduate of New York University, having studied Occupational Therapy and was deeply knowledgeable in Hebrew and Judaica.

Arriving in Salisbury we both became involved with the Jewish community, and joined both the Sephardi and the Ashkenazi Congregation. I served on both committees at different times. Some time after we had settled down Aliza was approached and asked if she could assist temporarily at the Hebrew School, as the Principal had left and they were short of a teacher.

I discovered that the Principal in question was the same person who had been my Hebrew teacher in London some twenty years previously, and had been responsible, to my shame, for my being expelled from his class. ! Aliza’s temporary tenure extended into thirty years of teaching Hebrew and Judaica in Salisbury, and included teaching at the Ashkenazi Hebrew School, and the Sephardi nursery school for a while. Together, Aliza and I started to campaign for the establishment of a Jewish Day School (SHARON), which materialised in 1960 after many obstacles had been overcome. It was unique in that both the Ashkenazi and Spehardi customs and traditions were taught as the pupils came from both these communities. Aliza also introduced programme-teaching girls for the Bat Mitzvah, and a special ceremony was held every year alternating between the two Synagogues. The Sha’are Shalom Synagogue lent itself beautifully to the occasions The School continues to this day despite the exodus of most of the Jews from Zimbabwe since independence, and with only about 15% of children being Jewish. It retains its reputation as one of the best private schools in the country. The Hebrew programme has continued, although adjusted to the situation.

My activities in the community were also centred in the Zionist field in which I served over many years, eventually holding the position of President from f1978 to 1984. We came on Aliya in 1987, after spending a couple of years in Cape Town where Aliza worked at the Herzlia School in charge of Judaica programmes.

Looking back over the last Century, I like to think that our family has made a modest but positive contribution to Jewish life. I consider myself fortunate in having experienced the best of both the Sephardi and Ashkenazi traditions. Our story may be just another in the continuing saga of Jewish wanderings, and one in the life of a people chosen no doubt, to spread the word of our creator in the strangest of ways. Were my parents destined to meet the way they did, and from such different backgrounds? Was I destined to meet Aliza coming from such a different cultural and social background in order for us to follow the path we followed and eventually bring me home to the Land of Israel? Did our common heritage and the epic of Solica Hatchouel play a part in our destinies?

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