A funeral procession winds around the mosque in Mashhad, Iran. Mourners wail over the deceased when suddenly, government officials burst into the ceremony. A Muslim woman loudly accuses the Jadid al-Islam (“new Muslims”) of wrapping the body in Jewish burial shrouds instead of following Islamic customs.
Panic spreads. Most mourners scatter, fearing for their lives—practicing Judaism in secret is a crime punishable by death. Meanwhile, the argument between the grieving family and the officers intensifies, until the police demand: Enough talking—let a woman inspect the shrouds and settle the matter.
From the back of the crowd, an elderly woman steps forward. She is the wife of a respected Muslim man. The leaders of the Jadid community hold their breath, knowing that the shrouds were indeed prepared according to Jewish tradition and that a single glance could expose them.
The elderly woman curses the Jadid al-Islam loudly, calling them faithless Muslims who are secretly Jews. She leans over the body, examines the shrouds, and then, with audible disappointment, announces that they are perfectly in line with Islamic law.
A sigh of relief sweeps through the community—this time, they are safe. The deceased is buried with full Muslim rites. Later, away from prying eyes, the burial is completed according to Jewish tradition as well.
That elderly woman, named Johar, was herself a Jewish woman who had converted to Islam. After her Muslim husband’s death, she returned to Judaism, immigrated to the Land of Israel, lived in the Bukharan Quarter of Jerusalem, and was buried on the Mount of Olives in 1911.
A City Without Jews
Stories of communities of forced converts from Judaism are often linked to medieval Spain under Christian rule, but such conversions also took place in Muslim lands. The Anusim of Mashhad experienced one of the most recent cases of mass forced conversion, in 1839.
From the outset, the Jewish presence in Mashhad was resented by the local Shiite residents. The city is home to the tomb of Imam Ali al-Rida, one of the Twelve Imams and a direct descendant of Muhammad. Considered one of the holiest sites for Shiite Muslims, Mashhad, like Mecca and Medina today, did not allow Jewish settlement.
The first Jews arrived in the city at the invitation of Nader Shah, a ruler of Iran who was considered sympathetic to Jews. He sought to turn Mashhad into a commercial hub and made it his capital. However, by the time the Jews arrived, he had passed away, and they were allowed to settle only in a fenced-off area outside the city walls.
For nearly a century, the Jews of Mashhad lived in a state of constant friction with their Shiite neighbors. The tension finally erupted into violence on the tenth day of Muharram in 1255 of the Islamic calendar—March 26, 1839.
That day was part of the Ashura mourning ceremonies for Imam Hussein, during which Shiites self-flagellate to commemorate the murder of the Imam.
On this day, a local Jewish woman suffering from a skin condition sought medical treatment. A doctor recommended she soak her hand in the blood of a slaughtered dog. She turned to a Muslim neighbor for help, but an argument over payment ensued. Seeking revenge, the neighbor spread a rumor that the Jews had slaughtered a dog while mockingly calling it “Hussein,” desecrating the Imam’s honor and the sacred mourning rituals.
The false accusation led to a massacre. Dozens of Jews were brutally murdered, young Jewish girls were kidnapped and forcibly married to Muslims, and two were even wed to the local mufti. Jewish homes and businesses were looted and burned—of the dozens of Jewish-owned shops, only four remained intact.
Religious texts were set aflame, synagogues were ransacked, and the community’s seven Torah scrolls were seized by Shiite clerics. These scrolls were taken to the Imam Rida Shrine and sealed in a basement behind bricks. Legend has it that the Torah scrolls remain hidden within the walls of the mosque to this day.
The surviving Jews were rounded up and brought before the mufti, who declared that the only way to escape total annihilation was to convert to Islam. After a painful deliberation, the community leaders agreed to a forced conversion in name only, in order to save their lives.
As they recited the Shahada—the Islamic declaration of faith (“I bear witness that there is no God but Allah, and Muhammad is His messenger”)—some secretly substituted Muhammad’s name with Moses, whispering “Musa” instead.
A Split Life
For over a century, the crypto-Jews of Mashhad lived under a veil of secrecy, knowing full well that discovery meant death. They remained confined to their quarter and continued to bury their dead in the Jewish cemetery, arguing that families should not be separated after death.
Outwardly, they were devout Muslims—fasting during Ramadan, attending prayers at the mosque, and dressing in traditional Muslim attire. Yet from birth, each child had two names: an official Muslim name and a secret Jewish name. Sometimes, even close friends only learned a person’s Jewish identity in the days leading up to their burial.
To avoid intermarriage with Muslims, the Jadid al-Islam often betrothed their young children to other children from within the community—sometimes before they were even four or five years old. This way, if a Muslim man sought a Jewish girl for marriage, her family could claim she was already engaged. By the age of 16, an unmarried girl was considered “old” and at risk of being taken by a Muslim suitor.
The similarities between Judaism and Islam made it easier for these crypto-Jews to maintain their hidden Jewish identity. Certain practices, like circumcision, raised little suspicion due to their presence in both religions. However, keeping kosher and observing Shabbat required elaborate deceptions. To dispel any doubts about their adherence to Islam, they would purchase non-kosher meat in public but secretly dispose of it by feeding it to stray animals or gifting it to Muslim servants. Kosher meat was obtained by discreetly slaughtering chickens and sheep, while larger animals like cattle were avoided since kosher slaughtering practices would be too difficult to conceal.
On Shabbat, shops remained open to maintain appearances, but young children were stationed at the counters, tasked with stalling customers by saying, “Father will be back soon,” until the customers lost patience and left. Some shopkeepers went even further, wrapping their hands in bandages and claiming they were injured to avoid handling money.
Even prayer had to be conducted in secret. Worshippers gathered in private courtyards, where children or elderly women were posted as lookouts to warn of approaching outsiders. To minimize suspicion, congregants did not exit together through the main door after prayers; instead, they dispersed by climbing over walls and moving across rooftops to return to their homes unnoticed.
Women as Guardians of Jewish Identity
Like the Anusim of Spain, it was the women of the community who became the primary guardians of Jewish life in Mashhad. Beneath their chador—the Muslim garment that covered their entire bodies and concealed their identities—they became the community’s covert smugglers. Hidden within their robes, they transported packages of kosher meat, religious artifacts, and even small Torah scrolls.
Observance of Jewish laws within the home rested largely in their hands—Taharat Mishpachah (family purity), Shabbat, kosher food, and, most importantly, the religious education of children. Their efforts were acts of defiance, ensuring that Jewish identity would not be extinguished.
They also oversaw the Jewish burial rites. Outwardly, the dead were wrapped in seamless Muslim burial shrouds. But when possible, Jewish men were secretly dressed in tallitot (prayer shawls) beneath the outer garments.
Tefillin in Mecca
Some of the crypto-Jews of Mashhad took on extreme disguises, even serving in high-ranking religious roles in the Muslim community. One legend tells of a forced Jewish convert who became a muezzin—the person tasked with calling Muslims to prayer—at the Jadid al-Islam mosque, which was built specifically to teach the communityIslamic laws and practices.
To reinforce their cover, some Jews undertook the Hajj, the sacred pilgrimage to Mecca. Upon returning, they were honored with the title Hajji, signifying devout Muslim status. Yet, even on the pilgrimage, they found ways to maintain their Jewish faith.
Matityahu HaCohen, a leader of the Mashhad community, traveled to Mecca carrying minuscule tefillin, scrolls of Torah verses roughly the size of a thumbnail, hidden beneath his turban. He prayed in Mecca, facing the Kaaba, while secretly wearing his Jewish prayer items. He knew full well that discovery meant certain death.
Ironically, the Hajj—which was supposed to cement their Muslim identities—often became a turning point. Some members of the community used the journey as an opportunity to break away from their Muslim escorts and travel to Jerusalem. There, they witnessed Jewish life flourishing openly, with some choosing to remain in the Holy Land rather than return to Mashhad. Others went back to Iran with a simple message: Jews, come home.
Discrimination in a New Home
Beginning in the early 20th century, waves of Mashhadi Jews immigrated through Damascus to the Land of Israel. But even in their new homeland, they faced skepticism and challenges.
Despite their deep communal ties and traditions, they were met with suspicion by some of the Jewish leadership. Rabbi Yitzhak (Isaac) HaLevi Herzog, the Ashkenazi Chief Rabbi of Mandatory Palestine, doubted whether they were “truly Jewish.”
Two primary concerns arose: The first was intermarriage with non-Jews, and the second was the issue of illegitimate children, resulting from divorces (gittin) that were thought to have not been conducted properly according to Jewish law.
The Mashhadi Jews, feeling deeply insulted, turned to their global community for support. Others who settled in Britain and the United States petitioned Rabbi Ben-Zion Meir Hai Uziel, the Sephardic Chief Rabbi of Palestine, to advocate on their behalf. He attested to their unwavering Jewish faith, preserved under extraordinary circumstances. Eventually, Rabbi Herzog accepted his testimony, and the Mashhadi Jews were officially recognized as part of the Jewish people.
A Jewish Quran
Given their unique circumstances, it’s no surprise that the Mashhadi crypto-Jewsleft behind extraordinary manuscripts. Their need to uphold Jewish traditions while maintaining strict Muslim appearances led to the creation of remarkable books that straddled both identities.
One such work was a Persian translation of Jewish prayers by Rabbi Mordechai Akaler. Fearing that Jewish prayer rituals would fade from memory, he translated the siddur into Persian in his book Avodat HaTamid, along with the Selichot prayers and the Passover Haggadah. Beyond his role as a translator, he dedicated himself to the community as a preacher, mohel, shochet (ritual slaughterer), and cantor—all without charge, solely to strengthen Jewish observance in secrecy.
Perhaps the most striking artifact from the community is an illustrated Quran that once belonged to the influential Hakimian family. Due to their high status, the family had to maintain an especially devout Muslim front. Within the margins of this Quran, they recorded dates of births and deaths.
In 2023, the Hakimian family donated this book to the National Library of Israel.
The Hakimian Family Quran is part of a new exhibition currently on display at the Library featuring recently arrived rare items. Among the other treasures featured in this exhibition are first editions of Shakespeare’s works, breathtaking historical maps of the Land of Israel, and rare manuscripts that shed light on the untold history of Jewish life in Islamic lands. These extraordinary artifacts can only be viewed as part of the Library’s guided tours.
For more details on this exhibition, click here.
