Drawing on Devotion:

The Great Synagogue of Aleppo in Ink and Paint

A Sanctuary Through Time

For over twelve centuries, the Great Synagogue of Aleppo — also known as Kanīs Ḥalab al-Markazī (كنيس حلب المركزي), the Al-Bandara Synagogue, or the Central Synagogue of Aleppo — stood at the heart of the Syrian Jewish community, one of the most enduring and vibrant in the Middle East. This spiritual center served not only as a house of prayer — but also as a stronghold of tradition, a sanctuary in times of upheaval, and the guardian of the Aleppo Codex. Throughout its existence, the synagogue fostered the evolution of the unique Musta’arabi rite of Aram Ṣoba, welcomed Sephardic exiles, and survived the turbulence of conquests, a short-lived conversion to a mosque, riots, and wars.[1]

Rochelle Dweck, an artist of Aleppine and Egyptian heritage, reimagines the synagogue in both its splendor and its shattered present through vivid, haunting color. Drawing on archival photographs and contemporary images, her work honors the memory of this sacred space, affirms the resilience of identity, and reinterprets the meaning of preservation and renewal. As history has shown, the synagogue has risen from devastation before. This exhibition invites us not only to witness what has been lost, but to imagine what may yet be restored.

I. Foundations of Faith: Antiquity Through the Early Modern Era

Archaeological and textual evidence suggest that Jewish worship took place on this site as early as the 5th century CE. The synagogue’s earliest surviving Hebrew inscription dates from 834 CE. During the Mongol invasions of the 13th century, the synagogue was one of six designated places of refuge in Aleppo. However, it was ultimately destroyed in 1400 during the brutal assault led by the Turkic-Mongol conqueror Timur.[2]

Reconstruction efforts began around 1405 and culminated by 1418, transforming the older Byzantine base structure into the building that would serve generations to come. With the influx of Sephardic Jews following the Spanish expulsion in 1492, an eastern wing was added, while the indigenous Musta’arabi Jews (literally “those who live among the Arabs”)[3] continued to use the western wing for their services. Early modern travelers and photographs from the 20th century[4] help document the synagogue’s architecture, capturing a structure that was both timeless and ever-evolving.

II. Flames of 1947: The Partition Riots and the Synagogue’s Burning

On November 29, 1947, the United Nations approved the partition plan for Palestine. While Jewish leaders accepted it, five Arab nations – Syria, Lebanon, Egypt, Iraq and Jordan – rejected the plan. The following day, Aleppo was shut down in protest, and on December 1, violent riots erupted. Mobs looted and burned Jewish homes, schools, businesses, and places of worship, including the Great Synagogue.

The fire caused extensive damage to the building, collapsing the roof and charring ancient stonework. Though the building was not entirely lost, it was gravely wounded.[6] In the wake of the attack, the eastern section was partially restored and continued to host prayer.[7] The riots marked a turning point for Syrian Jewry: persecution intensified, emigration was restricted, and community life was fractured.[8]

III. Quiet Restoration: 1980s Rebuilding and Diaspora Pilgrimages

In the late 1980s, members of the Syrian Jewish community in Brooklyn funded partial restorations of the synagogue. By 1992, repairs had stabilized parts of the structure, though it remained largely unused.

In June 2008, a group of Syrian Jews returned to Aleppo and held a morning prayer service within its ancient walls, reciting Qaddish and Birkat Kohanim (The Priestly Blessing), invoking memory amid silence.[9]

IV. War and Ruin: The Syrian Civil War of 2016

The outbreak of civil war in Syria brought renewed devastation to Aleppo. By 2018, street-level images[10] revealed the synagogue’s courtyard in ruins — its walls crumbling, its cemetery overgrown, and its future uncertain.

Artist Rochelle Dweck re-envisions the synagogue in its glory and its current state. All images immediately below are courtesy of the artist.

V. Sanctuary Without Walls: Legacy Across the Diaspora

Though its stones have been scattered and scorched, the Great Synagogue’s spiritual legacy endures. Syrian Jews from Aleppo have built vibrant communities across the globe — in Brooklyn, Deal (NJ), Mexico City, São Paulo, and Israel — carrying with them the melodies, customs, and memories once contained by these walls. The synagogue, now silent, lives on in its spiritual descendants and the "daughter synagogues" they have established.

Even in ruin, the Great Synagogue of Aleppo has not been forgotten. Its form lives on — meticulously documented in photographs, captured in artworks like the paintings in this exhibition, and reimagined in models, including a replica at the ANU Museum of the Jewish People[11] and a virtual reality reconstruction at the Israel Museum.[12] These acts of preservation are not only tributes to the past but may also be gestures toward the future. The synagogue has quite literally risen from ashes before. With its details enduring in memory and record, may we yet see the day when it is rebuilt — not only in image, but in stone.

References

[1][2] “Central Synagogue of Aleppo.” Wikipedia. Accessed on May 1, 2025.

[3] “Musta’arabi Jews.” Wikipedia. Accessed on May 1, 2025.

[4] Many of the historical photos of the synagogue before the 1947 riots are from two sources: (1) The Ernst Herzfeld papers, including photos by Ernst Emil Herzfeld (1879-1948), German archaeologist, philologist, geographer and historian in the field of Near Eastern Studies, and (2) Mrs. Sarah Shammah, a native of Aleppo who moved to Jerusalem and visited the synagogue in autumn of 1947, hiring a photographer to document the synagogue shortly before it was vandalized and desecrated. Mrs. Shamah’s photographs were made available by the Israel Museum in Jerusalem.

[5] Leah Bornstein-Makovetsky, “The Political and Social Status of the Jews of Aleppo, 1517-1800,” in Aleppo Studies: the Jews of Aleppo: vol 2: Their History and Culture, eds. Yom Tov Assis, Miriam Frenkel, and Yaron Harel (Jerusalem: Ben-Zvi Institute, 2013).

Rabbi Abraham Dayan relates a different legend in his book ״הולך תמים ופועל צדק״ ("Walking Innocently and Doing Righteousness,” 1850, p. 68r via Hebrew Books.org. According to "an old man," the community was celebrating Simḥat Torah when their joyous festivities drew the attention—and envy—of a local official who sought to convert the synagogue. That night, he and his men stayed inside the building, when a large venomous snake coiled around his neck. The elder of the court was summoned and asked whether he had harbored evil intentions toward the site. The official confessed and, in repentance, pledged to repay the community with double kindness. The elder then turned to the snake and said, “Return to your place,” at which point the snake returned to the ark. From that day forward, the ark was sealed off, as the community believed the snake was a divine messenger.

[6] Most photos from this period are from Judy Feld Carr, a Canadian musicologist who helped smuggle over 3,000 Jews out of Syria between 1975 and 2000. For more details see Judy’s story - the heroism of a Canadian who smuggled Jews out of Syria.

[7] Silvera, Carol. “The Great Synagogue of Aleppo.” CUNY Academic Commons. Accessed on May 1, 2025.

[8] “Restrictions and Violence.” Sephardic Heritage Museum. Accessed on May 1, 2025.

[9] “Central Synagogue of Aleppo,” Wikipedia.

[10] "Street View image of the Al Bandara synagogue, Aleppo." Google Maps. Photograph taken Feb 2018.

[11] “Central Synagogue of Aleppo,” Wikipedia.

[12] Friedman, Matti. “The Lost Synagogue of Aleppo.” Tablet Magazine. Accessed May 1, 2025.