For a Jew raised in Lebanon, emotional tugs from both sides of divide

by Jill Huber
NJJN Bureau Chief/Monmouth

As the conflict along Israel’s border with Lebanon moved into its second week, David Tarrab, a Jew who grew up in Beirut, couldn’t help but reflect on the crisis that threatens many of his family members and friends who still live in the region.

“I have friends and close family who are living in Beirut and Haifa,” said Tarrab, a pediatric dentist who lives in Holmdel with his wife, Sheri. (The couple’s son, age 20, is a student at the University of Hartford in Connecticut.) “Emotionally, at this time, I am in a very interesting and difficult place.”

Although Tarrab and his family moved to Paris in 1975 when he was 14, he said he was exempt from prejudice during his boyhood in Beirut.

“I was not ostracized for being Jewish when I lived in Lebanon,” he recalled. “And I never had to lie about my religion or deny being Jewish. My family belonged to a synagogue and I was a bar mitzva. These occasions were not marred by violence or examples of prejudice. Nothing like that was ever directed toward my family. I grew up as a ‘normal’ kid.”

Tarrab’s father, whose family had lived in Lebanon for more than 100 years, was a successful businessman in Beirut. His mother was a Syrian Jew who moved to Lebanon in 1948, at age 12.

During his school years in Beirut, Tarrab was one of only two Jews in his elementary school class; the other was his younger brother, who is now an attorney in New York. Tarrab still keeps in touch with many of his schoolmates through regular e-mail exchanges.

The Lebanese civil war in 1975 brought tragedy to Tarrab’s family, and their circumstances underwent a radical change. His father was killed during a skirmish, and Tarrab, his mother, and brother relocated to Paris, where they lived for the next five years. The family moved to the United States in 1980 (his mother subsequently returned to Paris).

But Tarrab, who is a U.S. citizen, considers the time he spent in Lebanon as an important part of his heritage.

“A significant part of my childhood was invested there,” he said. “My family had accomplished a great deal on both personal and professional levels and had garnered respect. We were respected members of the community.”

Since leaving Lebanon, however, Tarrab has often been asked to “choose sides,” a concept that makes him uncomfortable on many levels.

“People say to me, ‘Whose side are you on,’ and I can’t answer that question. It’s not a comfortable position for me. I prefer not to choose sides, since I have strong feelings for Lebanon and Israel. So many of my friends and family still live in both regions, and until the civil war in 1975, my childhood in Beirut was a happy one.”

But Tarrab has been fielding the question for 30 years, especially since the 1982 Israeli invasion of Lebanon. He was 21 years old at the time, and processing his reaction to the situation has always been difficult and challenging, he said.

“I obviously had a unique perspective. I always believed that Lebanon was more amiable toward a peaceful resolution of the conflict. Back then, the country did not have a ‘puppet’ government like there is at the present time. For decades, Lebanon was a democracy within the Arab world, and its people understood the concepts of peace and democratic government.”

But Tarrab said the environment of terror and fear that currently prevails throughout much of the Arab world has created a barrier on the road to peace.

“I believe there are people in the world who don’t want peace; they feel it’s not to their advantage,” he said. “They have been raised in an environment of anger and hatred, and their anger is focused on Israel now.

“In the United States, peace is a goal, a priority,” he continued. “We live in a country in which family units try to get along, and they strive to maintain a spirit of equality in the household. But there are no democratic households in the Arab world. If you apply that example on a national level, you can see the disconnect.”