The Story of Bulgarian Jewry I Was Compelled to Tell

March 1943. Bulgarian authorities prepare to deport 20,000 Jews from Bulgaria, expelling thousands from their homes in Sofia and sending them to the countryside. Held in detention camps, they fear they will meet the same fate as the 11,343 Jews from the Bulgarian-occupied territories of Thrace and Macedonia who were sent to their deaths in the Nazi concentration camps.

And yet, despite Bulgaria's being aligned with the Nazis, despite the yellow stars the Jews wore on their clothing and the loss of their businesses and homes, and despite their men being sent to forced labor camps, the entire Bulgarian Jewish community survived the war. Who saved Bulgaria’s Jews? Did Tsar Boris III, who had originally approved the deportation orders, have a last-minute change of heart? Or can the rescue of Bulgarian Jewry be credited to the brave politicians who confronted the antisemitic government, and along with renowned members of the clergy and ordinary citizens, called for the orders to be stopped?

This is a story that has fascinated me ever since I first learned of it while living in Sofia on a two-year relocation contract. My job in an online marketing company was temporarily positioned in the Bulgarian capital, and my wife and I made the most of our Bulgarian adventure.

Bulgaria is a beautiful country

Bulgaria is blessed with thick green forests, towering mountains, sandy and rocky seashores, and an abundance of fresh water. Bulgaria’s villages are picturesque, and the country’s culture and traditions are on colorful display everywhere you go. Bulgaria is a secular country, but one with a high regard for its religious heritage. Monasteries gladly welcome pilgrims and visitors. Today, incidents of antisemitism are rare.

One of the first places we visited was Sofia’s stunning synagogue, the third largest in Europe. Built to accommodate some 1,300 worshippers, the building's main chandelier is the largest in the country. We attended the synagogue’s 100th year anniversary celebrations, and I sat a few rows behind Bulgaria’s president at the impressive ceremony held in the central hall. We were guests at the community's Passover Seder, reading from a Haggadah that was written in both Hebrew and Bulgarian.

Most of Bulgaria’s Jewish community made Aliyah shortly after Israel’s independence and today the country’s Jewish population numbers only a few thousand, most of it assimilated. Bulgarian Jews in Israel look back fondly on their homeland, and I was blessed to having lived for a short time in their country.

My heart was still in Bulgaria

Back home in Israel, I could not stop thinking of my experiences. My heart was still in Bulgaria. I found I could return to the country every day in my writing. I began publishing travel reports, encouraging tourists to visit, and I turned to Bulgaria in my fiction as well, writing two suspense novels set in the country.

But there was one story I was compelled to tell, and that was the story of Bulgarian Jewry during World War Two. I am not a writer of historical fiction, yet I eagerly dived into my research. I interviewed journalists and historians; I surveyed friends and acquaintances. I sat for hours in the library at Yad Vashem, and read the testimonies of Jews who had lived in Bulgaria during those years. I wondered how could I accurately relate the historical incidents of this incredible story.

The result of my research is my short story, ‘Forgiveness’. In the story, an Israeli man is invited to a small village in the Rhodope Mountains to meet an elderly man, a veteran of the Bulgarian army during the war. The Israeli learns that his grandfather and this Bulgarian were once best friends. While the grandfather was sent to the Bulgarian labor camps with the threat of deportation and death hanging over his family’s heads, the Bulgarian served in the occupied territories, playing a role in the expulsion of Jews from their homes and their transportation to the death camps.

Two sides to what happened, presented in fiction. Feedback has been positive, although there were those who pointed out inaccuracies in my writing. A train leaving Macedonia could not possibly have made its way through Sofia. A fire in a detention camp could not have been ignited by partisans. But more importantly, I hadn’t emphasized the special relation Bulgaria had with its Jewish citizens.

There is something unique in Bulgaria, a country in which Jews have lived and felt welcome for centuries. I learned all this and more during my brief stay in Sofia. I hope I have done justice to Bulgaria for rescuing its Jews. And, that I have paid respect to the Jews of Thrace and Macedonia who didn’t survive.

The story 'Forgiveness' is included in my new book, Rakiya – Stories of Bulgaria. The book's twelve short stories are told in the voices of both native Bulgarians and foreigners, visiting Bulgaria for the first time. In the book I hope to share the country's history, culture, traditions and natural wonders, and of course, the remarkable story of how Bulgarian Jewry survived the Holocaust. It’s a story that I needed to tell.

Originally posted on The Times of Israel.