At 44 rue de la Victoire in the 9th Arrondissement, the Grand Synagogue of Paris stands tall, its ornate facade overshadowing the neighboring buildings.
La Victoire, as it is known colloquially, has been a fixture of stability for the Jewish community of Paris. Throughout its 150 years it had never been closed, not even during the world wars or the 2015 terror attacks that struck the city. Then came the coronavirus.
“During the Holocaust or Charlie Hebdo, the enemy was an enemy against whom you could fight, but today we can’t,” says Jacques Canet, president of the synagogue’s congregation. “The best way to fight is to stay at home.”
The 70-year-old Canet has been a regular at La Victoire for 60 years; it’s where he was married and where his children celebrated their bar and bat mitzvas. Thirty years ago he joined the congregation’s management, where he has played a variety of roles.
Canet calls the place his home, and he says he feels “very bad” about closing it. It definitely wasn’t an easy decision.
According to Moshe Sebbag, the synagogue’s chief rabbi, “When we realised it was a dangerous situation for the public there was no other choice.” Keeping it open even during the Nazi occupation was a way to save lives, he says, and “now, shutting down the synagogue will save lives.”
In fact, the synagogue’s administrative board decided to cease activity in early March, almost two weeks before the official French lockdown was set. Shabbat dinners, the saying of the kiddush prayer and even the annual Purim feast were cancelled.
“I believe the best decision we made was not to have the Purim feast, because that’s how most people got infected,” Sebbag says, referring to France’s wider Jewish community.
Talmud Torah classes and all the activities of the Israelite scouts were also suspended – at least until this coming Saturday – before the government announced its closure of schools. In a letter to his congregation, Sebbag explained “the most painful decision” he has ever made: the first-ever closure of the Grand Synagogue of Paris.
“In this terrible period, we must be exemplary and respect all the containment measures set out by the authorities to put an end to this tragedy as quickly as possible and support the efforts of health personnel,” he wrote in his letter, calling his people to take the time to reflect, study and cherish the family moments.
After consulting with the chief rabbis of Rome, Marseille and Paris, it was the chief rabbi of Strasbourg who resonated with Sebbag the most. “He was crying, truly begging me through tears to close down. ‘People are dying here,’ he told me, ‘stay at home,’” Sebbag says.
More than 900 deaths have been reported so far in the virus-stricken Grand Est region, nearly one-third of France’s COVID-19 fatalities, now surpassing 3,000.
“After hearing about the many infections taking place in the Strasbourg congregations, I realised it was on my shoulders and my responsibility to make a call that is beyond my scope historically,” Sebbag says.
Since its consecration in 1874, the Grand Synagogue has always been a linchpin of the Parisian Jewish community. It’s the head office of the chief rabbis of Paris and all France, and is considered by many a meeting point of the Republic and Jewish life.
La Victoire is part of the Consistoire, a Jewish institution overseeing 120 synagogues across the city. It usually introduces the policies the other houses of faith follow.
“A parable tells of a man during the holiday of Sukkot who walks into a sukkah to eat and suddenly it starts to rain,” Sebbag says. “According to the law of the Torah, if it rains one must go inside and eat at home. It’s now raining so much it’s a flood.”
