What’s next for the Jews of France?

Maurice Benhamou, a Jewish citizen of France who lives in the coastal city of Marseilles, just a three-hour train ride from Paris, is not afraid.

But the Algerian-descended Benhamou, 69, is among a minority of Jews living in France who, despite the recent terror attack at a kosher supermarket and years of rising anti-Semitism, insist on remaining in France. 

“I’m not afraid,” Benhamou said during a phone interview from his home in Marseille on Jan. 18, translated by his English-speaking daughter, Los Angeles resident Carole Slama. “The community is not afraid. We feel confident that we can secure our shul and our community.”

But in the weeks since the murderous terrorist attacks in Paris at the satirical newspaper Charlie Hebdo and the kosher supermarket Hyper Cacher, anxiety among Jews living in France has reached alarming levels. Over the past decade, a dramatic rise in anti-Semitism among radicalized Muslim immigrants and a spate of attacks targeting Jews — including a shooting at a school in Toulouse and the kidnapping and killing of a French-Jewish cell-phone salesman — have left Jewish citizens of France wondering whether they have a future there.

Even the French government demonstrated deep concern for its Jewish citizens, immediately deploying thousands of French military personnel to guard synagogues and Jewish schools. On the Shabbat right after the attacks, Benhamou said, many families stayed home, especially those with young children. And in places like Marseille, France’s second-largest city, Benhamou said a climate of general anxiety has gripped even non-Jewish citizens: streets ordinarily bustling with people — strolling, shopping, sitting in cafes — have become quieter, nearly deserted. 

“It’s not only Jewish people — even local people don’t go out,” Benhamou said. “This time of year, after the holiday, it’s the big sale in France — everything is discounted. But nobody is in the street.”

Things are even eerier at night. 

The pizzeria Benhamou owns and operates is just adjacent to the Lubavitch shul where he davens, so customers have continued to come at night because the shul is under the strict, round-the-clock protection of the military. According to Benhamou, six military officers and one police officer rotate shifts over a 24-hour period, taking turns sleeping and showering, using facilities outside the synagogue’s mikveh. Because of the guards’ presence, Benhamou has been able to keep his business open late, but he worries what will happen come Jan. 27, when the military is expected to recall its troops.

“When they leave, I am not sure we’re going to have any business at all,” he said of his nighttime clientele.  

In anticipation, Benhamou said the synagogue has convened the community to organize its own security plan. Young men and women trained in Krav Maga — the Israeli-developed self-defense system that combines boxing, jujutsu, wrestling and other combat techniques — will remain on guard along barricades protecting the shul from unwanted visitors. However, even if the presence of citizen guards is a deterrent, it will be a superficial one, as the young citizen guards will not be armed. “If people come over with Kalashnikovs and electronic weapons, there’s nothing we can do,” Benhamou admitted.

Further worrying, people throughout France are wondering how the country will handle the reabsorption of the approximately 1,000 young militants who left France to receive training from Islamic State, also known as ISIS or ISIL.  

“It’s really nice of France right now to guard us, but what are we going to do with all these [young militants] when they come back? Put them in prison? What’s going to happen?” Benhamou asked.

“The military security is temporary relief, but it is not a long-term solution.”

Benhamou noted that many in the Jewish community are exploring making aliyah. In 2014, nearly 7,000 French Jews left for Israel, and some expect to see that number double in 2015. But for many other Jews, like Benhamou, who have long-established routines, resources and connections in France, moving to a new country and starting a new life is not so easy. 

“It’s really difficult to leave a place when you have a job. What are you going to do in a new place? Where are you going to work? How are you going to live?”

Benhamou added that many of the Jews who have made aliyah already have relatives, connections or resources in Israel, perhaps even second homes.

And yet, even though Benhamou has two sons in Israel, he said he can’t quite muster the will to leave.

“Right now, I would love to go — but I can’t,” he said. “I’m not young anymore. I have my routine and my stuff, and it’s hard for me to leave everything.” 

For better or worse, he is willing to remain in France and take his chances there. 

“The word is emunah” — faith, Benhamou explained. “At the end of the day, I believe that whatever will be, will be. If I need to die here from a terrorist attack — whatever should happen, should happen.”