Several years ago, Andreas Sefiha, then president of the Jewish community of Salonika, remarked in an interview with a Greek newspaper, “Many people come to us (the offices of the community) and ask for information about their families or lost relatives, and we don’t have information to give them.”² This recently has changed as certain segments of the pre-World War II archives of the Jewish community of Salonika have become more readily available. These archives can provide the community itself and interested researchers with some answers not only to family history queries but also to broader questions regarding communal experiences during the decades preceding the Holocaust. However, significant challenges still remain.

About a century ago, the Jewish community of Salonika (Thessaloniki) was situated at the crossroads between east and west. While part of the multiethnic, multireligious, multilingual Ottoman Empire, Salonika sat at the brink of incorporation into the newly emerging Greek state, an event that finally took place following the Balkan Wars (1912–13).

The Jewish community of Salonika prospered around the turn of the 20th century, and the reasons for the city’s nickname, “The Jerusalem of the Balkans,” became apparent. Not only did the Jews represent a plurality of the population of the entire city (80,000 of 170,000), but they also exerted considerable influence on culture and commerce. The port actually closed on Shabbat, and the Judeo-Spanish (Ladino) vernacular of the Sephardim, Jews who trace their ancestry to the Iberian Peninsula, many of whom relocated to Ottoman cities such as Salonika in the decades following the expulsions from Spain and Portugal in the 15th and 16th centuries, could be heard as the lingua franca in the cosmopolitan markets of Salonika or at meetings of the local Socialist Federation.

The diversity of the Jewish population, from businessmen, rabbis and lawyers, to shoeshiners, scrap metal workers and tobacco laborers, garnered the respect of Jewish intellectuals such as David Ben-Gurion, who acknowledged Salonika as the only true “Hebrew labor town” in the world, and as a model for Zionist endeavors in Palestine.³ The Jewish community, however, experienced a period of decline during the years between the world wars. Mass emigration in response to economic hardship and increased anti-Jewish sentiment dispersed Salonika Jewry across the globe. Nonetheless, a struggling yet fully functioning Jewish community of 50,000 members remained, 96 percent of whom perished at the hands of the Nazis in Auschwitz in 1943.

Few fragments of the Jewish presence in Salonika remain today and, thus, those interested in researching the history of their families from Salonika are confronted with several obstacles. In Western Europe, concepts of individuality, closely linked to the development of 19th-century industrialism and bourgeois values, occasioned the recording of autobiography, memoir and family lineage. In contrast, in the lands of the Ottoman Empire, the group traditionally served as the main reference point rather than the individual; consequently, only a few exemplars of family histories and genealogies composed during that period exist, especially in the case of the Sephardim.⁴

Fathers often recorded lifecycle events and dates in family prayer books, and while useful tools, they generally do not trace the family lineage back beyond the father’s own generation.⁵ In addition, in the case of Salonika, in particular, the sources available to us today in order to reconstruct family histories are scant, widely dispersed and composed in languages often beyond the frame of reference of many Jewish genealogists. Recent publications such as Jeffrey Malka’s Sephardic Genealogy: Discovering Your Sephardic Ancestors and Their World, and Mathilde A. Tagger and Yitzchak Kerem’s Guidebook for Sephardic and Oriental Genealogical Sources in Israel have filled a variety of lacunae and informed us about available sources for Sephardic genealogy. However, my aim here is to survey archival materials originating from Salonika, in particular, and highlight their utility for family history research.⁶

Dispersal of the Archives of the Jewish Community of Salonika

The pre-Holocaust archives of the Jewish community of Salonika represent an invaluable genealogical source, and in combination with other sources such as newspapers and consular reports, they can provide abundant information relating to family history.⁷ The archives of the Jewish community of Salonika, however, were subject to various confiscations and plundering by the Germans during the occupation. The lawyer of the Jewish community, Yomtov Yacoel, recalled in his memoir that one of the first acts undertaken by the German occupying forces was the confiscation of the communal archives.⁸ In fact, the Nazis took extreme interest in the extensive archives especially because they provided rich genealogical sources for Nazi research. One confiscated document, for example, contained a family tree from 1940 of the famous Zionist leader Max Nordau that traces his ancestors back to a 17th-century rabbi in Salonika.⁹

Specific Nazi mechanisms in place led to the confiscations and subsequent transport of both the archives and libraries of the Jewish community of Salonika. Raids perpetrated by the Einzatzstab Reichstetteler Rosenberg, under the direction of Alfred Rosenberg, Hitler’s chief ideologue, for the Institut zur Erforschung der Judenfrage (the Institute for the Exploration of the Jewish Question), planned to be located in Frankfort, and by the S. D., the Nazi security police, resulted in the transport of various sections of the communal archives to different locations during the war.¹⁰

Following liberation, the Russian military took possession of a section of the archives and sent them back to Moscow, where they have been kept to this day as war spoils.¹¹ Ongoing negotiations between the Russian and Greek governments for the return of this collection have proven fruitless.¹² The United States Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington, DC, (USHMM) has microfilmed a small portion of this collection and plans to microfilm the rest, and Professor Minna Rozen already has copied all of the files from Moscow and utilized some of them in her recent publications.¹³ Based on a preliminary analysis, it appears that the Moscow component contains copious material of genealogical import.¹⁴

Also following the war, the American military located another portion of the archives of the Jewish community of Salonika and sent this, along with materials from other European Jewish communities that had been confiscated by the Germans, to the Offenbach Archival Depot (OAD) in Offenbach, Germany, established for the sole purpose of collecting and repatriating archives and books of Jewish provenance.¹⁵ From the OAD, literally tons of books and archival materials originally from Salonika returned to Greece; however, due to complicated political factors prevailing in Greece and within the small Jewish communities of Greece in the post-war years, these materials were largely forgotten until approximately 1970, when representatives of the Central Archives for the History of the Jewish People in Jerusalem (CAHJP) came to Greece and collected a portion of these returned archives.¹⁶

As a Fulbright Fellow to Greece in 2005–06, the author organized a previously unknown portion of the archives, which had been returned from Germany, but which the CAHJP failed to locate several decades before, and which now reside at the Jewish Museum of Salonika.¹⁷ Another portion of the archives found its way to the YIVO Institute for Jewish Research in New York along with YIVO’s own pre-war collection from Vilna, which likewise had been confiscated by the Germans and, after the war, sent from the OAD to New York.¹⁸ With grants from the Maurice Amado Foundation and the USHMM, the author completed the cataloging of this collection, which is in the process of being microfilmed.¹⁹ Still other files came into the possession of the Jewish Museum of Greece in Athens, and one file even found its way to Amsterdam, and they are accessible today.²⁰

The following discussion will provide a survey of several kinds of archival materials that are currently accessible and relevant for genealogical research that emanate especially from the collections at the Jewish Museum of Salonika and at YIVO, the two portions of the Salonika archives with which the author is most familiar. Whenever possible, the author has included sample lists of surnames that can be found in the various documents discussed.

Ladino Language, Paleography and Orthography

As if the dispersal of the archives of the Jewish community of Salonika was not enough, once the interested researcher can get his or her hands on the actual files, he or she will encounter yet another obstacle: the majority of the documents in the collections, especially those with genealogical relevance, were penned in Ladino (Judeo-Spanish). This language is based largely on old Castilian and other Iberian elements, in addition to a strong Hebrew and Aramaic component, admixtures of Turkish acquired during the period of Ottoman rule, Greek as a result of interactions with their Orthodox Christian neighbors, and French and Italian elements through the influence of Western culture and schools such as the Paris-based Alliance Israelite Universelle.²¹ Moreover, Judeo-Spanish appears in the archives in four alphabets: meruba (Hebrew block type), rashi (so-called rabbinic type), in Latin letters, and in the handwritten Hebrew cursive script particular to Sephardim of the Eastern Mediterranean, called solitreo.²²

It is necessary for interested researchers to become familiar with solitreo and its paleography (particular form or style of writing) in order to benefit from the various kinds of information that can be extracted from the archives of the Jewish community of Salonika. David Bunis’ Guide to Reading and Writing Judezmo provides the best available introduction; one must take note, however, that solitreo, like most handwriting systems, varies across time and geography.²³ In addition, familiarity with the orthography (method of spelling) of Judeo-Spanish as it appears in the various Hebrew alphabets is useful: in Judeo-Spanish, each consonantal and vowel sound is represented by its own character or combination of characters. A small tick mark, or rafé, is placed next to a Hebrew letter to represent distinct, non-Hebrew phonemes. For example, a gimel gives the g sound in the name Grasia; with a rafé, it gives the sound ch as in chiko (small) or the dj sound in the name Djoya (or the j in Joe). Other languages in the archives of the Jewish community of Salonika include Hebrew (sometimes in solitreo), Greek, French, Italian, German and Ottoman Turkish.

Words, including surnames, which I have transliterated from solitreo or other Hebrew alphabets utilized for writing Judeo-Spanish that have been included in this essay adhere to a basic phonetic method employed by the yahoo list-serve group, Ladinokomunita.²⁴ Names recorded in original documents in the Latin alphabet that are reproduced here have retained their original orthography. Given that no standardization of Latin-letter orthography existed in Judeo-Spanish, names and other terms, may vary: Kohen, Koen, Cohen, Coen can be assumed to be

the same as can Abram, Abraam, Abraham, Avram, Avraam and so forth.²⁵

Timeframe of the Archives of the Jewish Community of Salonika

A major obstacle faced by the Jewish community of Salonika after its incorporation into Greece (1912) was the disastrous fire that burned down the city center in 1917, during the height of World War I. It left 70,000 residents homeless, including 50,000 Jews, and destroyed the communal archives and libraries. The bulk of the archives at our disposal thus dates from the period following the fire of 1917 until 1941 when the German occupation of Salonika began.

A few important exceptions exist. One exciting item that I came upon during my research at the CAHJP in Jerusalem last summer included a register of the Ottoman census from the Muslim year 1300 (1884), composed mostly in Judeo-Spanish (in solitreo) with some Ottoman Turkish. This is the oldest surviving document from the archives of the Jewish community of Salonika yet to be identified.²⁶ It contains entries for 107 families, which include the given name, name of the father and surname of the head of the household, as well as the names of the wife and as many as 10 or 15 children and other relatives living in the same home. Entries often include years or exact dates of birth, marriage and death; sometimes even the day of the week is indicated. Lifecycle events were also updated into the 20th century in many cases. Furthermore, many of the individuals listed, although living in Salonika, were born in towns in the surrounding region. Cities of origin include: Kavala, Serres, Drama, Chanakkale (Dardanelles), Monastir (Bitola), Kastoria and Gelibolu (Gallipoli). Some notes also indicate foreign citizenship (e. g., Greek) or provide information on Ottoman military inscription presumably related to the Greek-Ottoman War of 1897.

Some of the included surnames are, in the order in which they appear: Benveniste, Arditi, Shalem, Shabetai, Ruso, Miranda, Saporta, Tiano, Hazan, Ben Yaakov, Abrevaya, Almosnino, Saltiel, Shemeha, Pinhas, Pardo, Benmayor, Mano, Andjel, Abravanel, Kabeli, Aroeste, Naar, Mevorah, Mordoh, Kuenka, Sides, Algranti, Levi, Yaakov, Kastro, Hanoka, Amariyo, Nahum, Haguel, Varon, Avraam, Shaki, Koen, Kalamaro, Gabriel, Beraha, Mayo, Franses, Tarabalus, Molina.

The oldest document located today in Salonika, and now held at the Jewish Museum of Salonika, is a similar census register, dating from 1905, and composed exclusively in Judeo-Spanish solitreo. This register includes entries for more than 360 families, many of whose members were born outside of Salonika but resided in Salonika, often in temporary government housing in neighborhoods such as Maale Hamidie, Maale Yeni and Maale Musevi.²⁷ In addition to the cities mentioned above in regard to the census of 1884, some of the individuals in this register originated from Izmir (Symrna), Ioannina, Veria, Istanbul (Constantinople) and Edirne (Adrianopoli), as well.

Surnames, among others, include: Levi, Pavon, Mihael, Franses, Beja, Ashkenazi, Kamhi, Sion, Ventura, Kasuto, Nahmias, Sustiel, Peres, Koen, Pesah, Moshe, Safan, Shimon, Nahum, Ben Altabev, Mesina, Yeuda, Gaveyo, Sheby, Dasa, Saragosi, Kovo, Batino, Taboh, Menashe, Nisim, Mizrahi, Yohai, Tatartes, Krespin, Estrugo, Franko, Sides, Malah, Molho, Modiano, Mataraso, Benyamin, Samarel, Menahem, Hason, Benveniste, Matalon, Shalom, Karmona, Ovadia, Kordova, Habib, Shaul, Revah, Tores, Kazes, Karaso, Sham, Halegua, Razon, Gatenio, Asael, Markos, Benforado, Boton, Mordoh, Pasharel, Romano, Pasy, Estrumza, Alaluf, Benezra, Alsheh, Brudo, Abrevaya, Sedaka, Abravanel, Haim, Aroeste, Saltiel, Erera, Pardo.

As demonstrated in the two Ottoman-era registers discussed above, the Jewish community of Salonika employed several calendars in compiling its records. During the Ottoman period, the Muslim calendar and Hebrew calendar were used. As indicated in the bulk of the archival material at our disposal, which dates from the period after 1917, the Jewish community during the interwar period implemented varyingly the Julian and the Gregorian calendars, in addition to the Hebrew calendar—and sometimes all three simultaneously. It is important, especially for genealogical research, to note the precise calendar being employed.²⁸

1917 Census of the Jewish Community of Salonika

Primary tasks the Jewish community of Salonika faced following the devastating fire of 1917 included providing food, clothing and shelter to the victims. In order to keep track of the victims of the fire and the kind of assistance they required from the community, and also to replace the previous census registers from 1884, all but one of which, as mentioned above, had burned, the Jewish community undertook a new census.²⁹ A special department of “statistics and civil status” orchestrated the compilation of the resulting 17 census volumes (containing a total of 24 books) in which families were organized in basic alphabetic order according to alkunya (surname), with each volume representing a different letter of the Hebrew alphabet. Three volumes (six books) were for surnames beginning with alef, alone. According to a report of the department of statistics and civil status, these census volumes included approximately 75,062 individual members of the Jewish community of Salonika. Most likely conducted during the German occupation and under German orders, the report indicates that by that time (c. 1941), two of the books (for mem and pey) already had been lost, and the records available at that time provided information for 69,812 individuals despite the fact that the report also notes that the actual population of the Jewish community at the time was much lower due to emigration.³⁰

Today, only three such census books have been located: volume 13 (nun), volume 16 (koof) and volume 17 (shin), which, according to the report of the department of statistics and civil status, include a combined total of 13,418 individuals—almost 20 percent of the entire Jewish population of Salonika, as recorded in the census! These census books are maintained at YIVO and provide a foundation for genealogists searching for families whose surnames begin with the letters nun, koof and shin and serve as a central registry to which other documents in the archives refer.³¹

Surnames included in the nun volume are: Nahmias, Naar, Nisim, Negri, Navaro, Nahon, Nahmoli, Nehama, Nefusi, Natan, Naki, Nadjari, Nashahon, Nah, Nahum, Nahman, Nasi, Navon, Negrin.

Surnames with koof include: Kapuano, Kune, Karaso, Kasuto, Kamhi, Kovo, Kalderon, Kabeli, Konfortes, Kapon, Kastro, Kuenka, Krespin, Katan, Kounio, Konfina, Krespin, Kasorla, Kazes, Karmona, Kandioti, Kadranal, Korunias, Kombrial, Kolonomos, Kantanela, Kordovoro, Kordova, Karion, Kolondo, Karaso, Kalvo, Kaufman and Kalai,

Surnames with shin include: Shemiya, Shonina, Shah, Shalhon, Salmoniko, Sherio, Shulman, Shuster, Shapira, Shpeter, Shufman, Shem Tov, Shuto, Shnuer, Shaki, Simha, Shabetai, Shalem, Shoal, Shabato, Shimon, Sheby, Shaltiel, Shlush, Shimshi, Shabon, Sitovi, Shaul, Shemuel, Samuelides, Sason, Shelomo, Salamonesko, Shalom, Saba, Shabatino, Samson, Shami, Shabat.³²

Common surnames include Nahmias (112 pages of entries!), Shaltiel (58 pages) and Kamhi (40 pages). Each page generally contains between four to six separate family entries, and, as with the previously mentioned registers from 1884 and 1905, each family entry in these registers begins with the head of the household (most often, the father), then su mujer (his wife), followed by his ijos and ijas (sons and daughters); most families contain between three and ten individuals.

Some of the relevant categories indicated in the census volumes include given name and alkunya (surname); occupation, age and/or date of birth; address; whether one was a victim of the fire, and, if so, whether he sustained damage to his house, movable property or place of work and if so, its insured value; whether the individual was prove (poor), mediano (middle class) or non menesterozo (not needy); the types of help given by the community: pan (bread), karvon (coal), ropas (clothes) and leche (milk); and finally, an observation section which often includes dates of death, appearances before the beit din (rabbinical court) or references to other relevant documents contained elsewhere in the communal archives.³³ Dates of marriage, divorce or even conversion, in addition to destinations for émigrés, are also sometimes indicated.

In 1934, after reforms instituted by the new chief rabbi, Sevi Koretz, mentioned in more detail below, the community also compiled separate registers organized by neighborhood. Extant volumes located now at the Jewish Museum of Salonika, for example, include Quarter Number 6/Karagach (entries for 425 families), Kalamaria, Aya Dimitri (750 familes) and Vardar (1014 families). In addition to including basic information such as names, addresses, ages and occupations, these volumes often include more detailed information about employment and monthly earnings since a family’s financial classification, which determined the benefits the family would receive from the Bikour Holim, such as matzoh for Pesach, was also recorded in these registers.³⁴

Birth and Marriage Records

In order to reconstruct the archives destroyed in the fire of 1917, the department of statistics and civil status also issued birth, marriage, death, circumcision, emigration and other types of certificates and sought to coordinate these documents with the census, which served as the central registry. These documents were issued on Judeo-Spanish forms, printed in rashi with headings in meruba, and most often filled out by hand in solitreo. Birth registrations issued by the Jewish community often are accompanied by Greek municipal or state certificates or by documents issued by foreign governments, such as those of France, Italy, Spain or Palestine, for those born abroad or holding foreign citizenship.

The amount of work required to reissue certificates destroyed by the fire in addition to issuing altogether new ones proved to be overwhelming for the department of statistics and civil status. This department was still behind, even in 1933 when Sevi Koretz became Chief Rabbi of Salonika.³⁵ Under his aegis, certain reforms were undertaken relating to the issuing of certificates in order to try to bring the communal records up to date.³⁶ In 1934, for example, the department of statistics and civil status issued registrations for 630 births, 402 marriages, 29 divorces, 1 conversion and 668 deaths.³⁷ Given the backlog, it was not uncommon for births, for example, to be registered when a child was 15 or more years of age.

In addition, the given figure for birth registrations is misleading: only boys were obligated to be registered, presumably because they would be both taxpayers and also subject to military inscription. This explains why boys’ and girls’ birth records were kept separately, why boys holding foreign citizenship were included with the girls, and also why a disproportionately small number of girls were even registered in the first place. In 1936, for example, of the 511 births registered, only 76 were for girls, and even by 1940, of the 681 births registered that year, only 236 were for girls.³⁸ Thus, when searching for birth registrations, one must be aware that a child born in 1920 may be included in the birth register for 1935 and that the likelihood of locating a boy is greater than for a girl.

Certain clues about the lives and families of the individuals included on these birth and marriage registrations can be extracted. By identifying the manner in which a particular individual signed his or her name on a birth or marriage registration, we can infer something about his or her educational background, cultural orientation and perhaps economic status. Signatures appear in five forms: mostly in solitreo, the common Sephardic script; a few in Latin or Greek; occasionally in modern Hebrew; and often as a lone thumbprint. Solitreo represents the standard and indicates some degree of traditional Sephardic education. Latin letters, according to French or Italian orthography, may suggest French or Italian educational background and cultural orientation.

Since the second half of the 19th century, upwardly mobile Jews attended foreign-run or private Jewish schools, the most prominent of which, both in Salonika and throughout the Ottoman Empire, was the Paris-based Jewish school system of Alliance Israelite Universelle.³⁹ Wealthier segments of the Jewish population embraced French culture to such an extent that not only did the French language come to represent elevated class and Western orientation, but it also challenged Judeo-Spanish as the tongue of daily parlance among Salonika’s elite Jews.⁴⁰ A doctor, therefore, would have been more likely to sign his name in Latin letters than a tobacco laborer. On the other hand, a Greek signature would indicate at least nominal Greek education, might suggest a certain assimilationist, Hellenized cultural tendency, and would be more common among the younger generations, raised during the period of Greek control over Salonika, which began in 1912. A modern Hebrew signature might suggest familiarity with the Ashkenazic world and the modern Hebrew language, perhaps via Zionist activities, or perhaps due to the person’s Ashkenazic roots. Finally, a thumbprint would indicate illiteracy and more likely a lower social class. As an example, of the 140 birth registrations contained in a volume from 1934–35, the signatures break down as follows: 83 solitreo; 40 thumbprints (or blank); 12 Latin; 5 Greek; 0 Modern Hebrew.

An examination of the tax stamps to be found on the margins of many of the certificates can provide a further clue to economic status. Each certificate registered by the Jewish community and placed in the archives required the payment of a special stamp tax. The amount the head of a household paid to register a birth or marriage depended on the amount of his pecha, the annual capital tax paid to the community, which represented two percent of his total capital. Only men over 21 years of age paid; religious and lay employees of the community and the indigent were exempt. In 1934, the brackets were as follows: one who paid between 51 and 200 drachmas (drs.) per year in pecha had to pay a stamp tax of 25 drs. per certificate; between 201 and 500 drs. in pecha required a stamp tax of 50 drs; between 501 and 1000 drs. in pecha required a stamp tax of 75 drs; between 1001 and 1500 drs. in pecha required a stamp tax of 100 drs; between 1501 and 3000 drs. in pecha required a stamp tax of 150 drs; 3001 or more drs. in pecha required a stamp tax of 200 drs.⁴¹ If the stamp tax was 100 drs., for example, we know the head of the household paid between 1001 and 1500 drs. in pecha. This signifies that his total capital was between 50,050 and 75,000 drs., the capital one might expect of a small merchant. Therefore, without going through detailed financial documents, the researcher can discover the approximate economic status of individuals and families he or she is researching.

One of the most central components, however, of the birth and marriage registrations are the photographs: of the child in the case of birth, and of the bride and groom in the case of marriage. In dealing with a community such as Salonika, which suffered so much destruction both from the fire of 1917 and especially during the German occupation, the photos available in these registrations may be the only visual or even written proof of the existence of many of the included individuals. Children had a terrible survival rate at Auschwitz, and considering that many of the children registered in the 1930s most likely were still children at the time of deportations and did not survive, these certificates and photos become even more valuable.⁴²

At YIVO, the following surnames are included in the birth registrations:

1934–35: Beja, Saltiel, Koen, Nahman, Venezia, Benveniste, Kunio, Ventura, Kapon, Zara, Sarfaty, Ashkenazi, Pardo, Alhanati, Tores, Simha, Benrubi, Mevorah, Yeuda, Shneur, Nahmias, Kovo, Bivas, Hanoka, Gatenio, Florentin, Pardo, Amar, Kamhi, Mordoh, Andjel, David, Taboh, Shetuvi, Nehama, Eleazar, Saias, Bensanchi, Shabetai, Shoal, Bonano, Sason, Azavi, Shalom, Katan, Estrumza, Sevi, Saporta, Barsion, Shaki, Yehiel, Erera, Saady, Yakoel, Naki, Hasid, Kastro, Naar, Nahum.⁴³

1938–39: Pilo, Amon, Koen, Luja, Ezraty, Akune, Levi, Yakoel, Asael, Pesah, Pardo, Kunio, Amir, Hasid, Halegua, Taboh, Sadikario, Beraha, Oreja, Kuenka, Bivas, Amariyo, Baruh, Nadjary, Revah, Moshe, Oziel, Molho, Nahman, Nahmias, Estromsa, Andjel, Gaegas, Pechon, Masarano, Aruh, David, Pinhas, Sion, Alaluf, Avla, Natan, Almosnino, Petelon, Lazar, Alsheh, Modiano, Varsano, Navaro, Shelomo, Kalderon, Franko, Aaron, Mano, Amar, Arditi, Kune, Gatenio, Aji, Tevah, Tiano, Veisid, Nefusi, Nahmoli, Brudo, Atas, Barzilai, Yohai, Arama, Nahum, Karaso.⁴⁴

1939–40: Arditi, Kamhi, Ben Natan, Aseo, Karaso, Petelon, Sion, Ashkenazi, Koen, Pechon, Sustiel, Nisim, Ezraty, Seror, Pilo, Sason, Levi, Pardo, Mano, Amon, Taboh, Sadikario, Aaron, Nahmias, Moshe, Algava, Papushado, Benrubi, Huli, Sason, Saias, Hanoka, Benveniste, Atas, Avraam, Rozenfeld, Hananel, Eskaloni, Gilidi, Sarfaty, Bensanchi, Naar, Mataraso, Alaluf, Halegua, Mair, Nahman, Beja, Asher, Shalem, Saadi, Ayash, Boton, Kamhi, Kapon, Saporta, Dasa, Gritas, Abastado, Yishaki, Hanon, Sevi, Esformes, Shabato, Hasid, Sedaka, Aboav.⁴⁵

Certificates in a volume of marriage registrations from 1934–35 held at the Jewish Museum of Salonika include the following surnames: Koen, Beraha, Talve, Sarano, Andjel, Mevorah, Ashkenazi, Tiano, Alsheh, Levi, Mataraso, Franses, Mano, Reuven, Pechon, Yisrael, Taboh, Nahman, Rozenfeld, Kampano, Ovadia, Pilo, Kamhi, Estrogano, Amar, Benozilio, Arenos, Beresi, Shaki, Petelon, Barzilai, Baruh, Ashkenazi, Avla, Nehama, Pesah, Sides, Algava, Tuve, Estrogano, Sadikario, Leon, Gaveyos, Nahmias, Kapon, Hasid, Yeoshua, Shabetai, Hanon, Oziel, Pelosof, Esformes, Kabeli, Molho, Asher, Belili, Miranda, Gatenio, Perahia, Tazartes, Abastado, Piso, Almaleh, Parente, Markos, Altaras, Duenyas.⁴⁶

Another volume of general registrations, from 1934, include the following surnames: Konfinas, Atas, Malah, Alsheh, Magriso, Alaluf, Yishak, Shnuer, Mataraso, Sadikario, Sustiel, Mano, Almosnino, Menahem, Haguel, Shalem, Alekim, Huli, Erera, Koen, Hazan, Tiano, Hasid, Alvo, Reuven, Negri, Eskapa, Karaso, Nahmias, Tevet, Burla, Beraha, Levi, Sarfaty, Saias, Benveniste, Mordehai, Halegua, Aseo, Mair, Naar, Pilo, Konfino, Salmona, Aaron, Pechon, Yom Tov, Hanon, Andjel, Shaul, Beja, Baruh, Tevet, Haim, Ovadia, Florentin, Sevi, Faradji, Kalderon, Shemuelides, Pardo, Buena, Almaleh, Mordoh, Menashe, Revah, Nisim, Atas, Kovo, Oziel, Shimshi, Sion, Grotas, Ben Natan, Arama, Pesah, Estrogano, Matalon, Pinto, Masarano, Markos, Alkalai, Sheby, Alhades, Esformes, Shalom, Gatenio, Hanania, Nefusi, Konfino, Saltiel, Pilo, Safon, Yehiel, Razon, Aruh, Perahia, Almosnino, Ezraty, Asael, Eliaou, Alfandari, Gershon.⁴⁷

Onomastics and Occupations

Recognizing naming patterns is an important tool for any genealogist. Sephardic tradition prevalent in Salonika before the Holocaust dictated that the first born son was named after his paternal grandfather; second born son after his maternal grandfather; first born daughter after her paternal grandmother; and second born daughter after her maternal grandmother. Subsequent children received the names of close relatives, the first from a paternal relative, and the next, from a maternal relative, and alternating thereafter.⁴⁸ For these reasons, given names repeated frequently.

The fact that there was a rather limited pool of both given names and surnames, as well, with spelling variations of each, searching for individuals can be difficult. The leadership of the Jewish community of Salonika could not keep everyone straight. One document indicates that the council of the Jewish community sent a letter to a certain Elie Cohen congratulating him on being selected as a member of the administrative committee of the Baron Hirsch neighborhood. Shortly thereafter, they sent another letter to the same Elie Cohen informing him that they had been mistaken: Eliaou Ishac Cohen, and not Elie Cohen, was the intended recipient.⁴⁹

Given names among the Sephardim had a variety of origins. As scholars have indicated, men’s names tended to be of biblical or Talmudic origin whereas women’s names often had non-religious connotations due to women’s general lack of participation in synagogue life.⁵⁰ Male names, therefore, tended to be Hebrew, including: Shelomo, Avraam, Yosef, Moshe, Yishak, Haim, Yaakov, Yeuda, Benyamin, Menahem, Yom Tov, Ovadia, Yisrael, Emanuel, Aaron, Eliaou, Rafael, Barouh, Shem Tov, Natan, Pinhas, Daniel, Mordehai, Malah, Saadi, Yerimiya, Mair and Gavriel. Women’s names included fewer of Hebrew origin. Dudun, Alegre (happiness), and Grasia (thanks) represent very common non-Hebrew names; those of Hebrew origin include Rahel, Ester, Mazaltov and Miriam.

Certain circumstances, however, would disrupt the naming patterns mentioned above. A male who overcame a fatal illness sometimes changed his name to Haim (life) or Rafael (angel of healing), or a female to Vida (life). Given the Western orientation of a significant segment of the Jewish population of Salonika by the 20th century, it is also important to note the effects that Occidental culture had on names.⁵¹ Based on an examination of some of the archival records, we see that the French Jak [Jacques] and Italian Djako [Giacco] replaced Yaakov; Alberto replaced Avraam; Moiz [Moise] and Moris [Maurice] replaced Moshe; Leon replaced Yeuda; Pepo replaced Yosef; Salomon replaced Shelomo; Salvator replaced Yeoshua; Anri [Henri] replaced Aaron, etc. Women also received Western names, including: Evon [Yvonne], Ida, Matilde, Angelika, Marisel, Jeni, Ivet [Yvette], Emma, Suzan, Alis [Elise], Rene, Eliza, Juli, Laura and Lily.

In addition to the importance of names, the ability to recognize the variety of professions of the Jews of Salonika is indispensable for genealogists who wish to attain a further sense of the livelihoods and economic status of the individuals and families they research. Three basic socio-economic classes existed in Salonika: the geverim (in Hebrew, “notables;” literally “adults”), sometimes called frankos because of their Western orientation, comprised the small upper class. The medianeros (in Judeo-Spanish, bourgeoisie) or baale batim (in Hebrew, literally “owners of the house”) comprised the middle class of small bourgeoisie. Thirdly, the dalat haam (in Hebrew, literally “poor of the nation”) comprised the lower class of proletariats and represented the largest class among Salonika Jewry.⁵²

By knowing a person’s profession, it is possible to discern which class he most likely fit. Used in combination with some of the other clues mentioned, such as the way a person signed his or her name and the amount of stamp tax paid for a birth or marriage registration, a more dynamic impression emerges. Furthermore, by examining the communal censuses mentioned above and some of the other archival materials, the same sense that Ben-Gurion had regarding the diversity of the Jewish community in Salonika also becomes clear. The following list will inform the researcher of what kinds of occupations to expect to encounter in the archives of the Jewish community of Salonika and approximately where they might fit into the larger socioeconomic picture of the city.

Occupations revolving around the port included: hamal (porter), barkero (ferryman), maonadji (bargeman), peshkador (fisherman), piedrero (quarryman).

Other possible occupations among the popular classes might have included: lavorador (blue collar worker), al tutun or tutundji (tobacco laborer), ambulante (peddler), garson (waiter), moso (servant), arabadji (coachman), dantilero (embroidery seller), fanilero (undershirt vendor), handragdon (door-to-door rag seller), rimandon (clothing mender), sakero (sack vendor), mandadodji (errand boy), makionadji (machine operator), hurdadji (scrap metal worker), lustradji (shoe shiner), eskovero (broom sweeper), argat (handyman), tinikliero (sheet metal worker), boyadji (wall painter), enkalador (white washer), batal (without work), sakat (cripple).

Small merchants, artisans and others who might have been medianeros included: adjente (agent), aguador (water merchant), ahtar (small retail dealer), toptandji (wholesale dealer), koredor (broker); kuvrero (coppersmith), fierero (iron worker), askyer (soldier), lokandadji (restaurant keeper), duramadji or marangoz (carpenter), elektrisien (electrician); kiemerchi (coal vender), molinero (miller), shavonero (soap maker), vidrero (glass vendor); maestro (teacher), muzikante (musician), shashtre (tailor), karnisero (butcher), bakal (grocer), bostandji (owner/worker of vegetable garden), frutero (fruit vendor), zarzavachi (greengrocer), pipitero (pumpkin seed vendor), torshindji (pickle vendor), dondurmadji (ice cream vendor), shikierdji (confectioner), kavedji (coffee vendor), halvadji (helva maker), malebidji (pudding vendor), lechero (milk vendor).

The small class of liberal professionals and businessmen might have included: komerchante (commercial agent), kolonialista (seller of colonial goods), retirador (custom’s agent), komisioner (commissioner), merkader (merchant), negosyante (businessman), saraf (money changer); empiegado (white collar employee), avokato (lawyer), doktor (doctor), kontavle (accountant), livrero (book vendor), moblista (furniture dealer), kierestedji (construction wood dealer), bizotier or djaverdji (jewler), djornalista (journalist), tipografo (printer).

Others dealt with religious life: haham (rabbi), shamash (synagogue sexton), hazan (synagogue official), mezamer (synagogue assistant).⁵³

Bushkando Muestros Nonos I Nonas

For those of us bushkando muestros nonos i nonas (searching for our grandfathers and grandmothers) and other relatives from Salonika, the available archival material from the Jewish community provides a rich source for research. The aim of this paper has been to describe some of these materials and provide researchers with clues as to their utility and ways in which to consider them from a genealogical perspective. In fact, if researchers are lucky and able to locate their families both in the 1917 and 1884 censuses, they may thereby succeed in tracing their ancestry as far back as the beginning of the 19th century. This would be an impressive accomplishment especially considering the destruction experienced by the Jewish community of Salonika as a result of the fire of 1917 and the Holocaust. However, one should not automatically expect to achieve such results. As mentioned, the available materials are fragmentary and, although extensive and diverse, they remain far from complete. Furthermore, a researcher must possess certain skills to fully take advantage of the available materials. In addition to familiarity with the relevant languages—especially Judeo-Spanish (Ladino), the solitreo alphabet and the associated paleographic and orthographic challenges—one must have a grasp on Sephardic naming patterns, several calendar systems and a basic understanding of the history and structure of the Jewish community of Salonika prior to the Holocaust. Researchers up to these challenges will be more equipped to reconstruct family lineages of the Sephardim of Salonika, once the Jerusalem of the Balkans.

Notes

1. Research for this paper was conducted under the supervision of Robert Friedman, director of the Genealogy Institute of the Center for Jewish History (2002) and continued in independent studies (2002–03) and as part of the author’s senior honors thesis in history at Washington University in St. Louis, sponsored in part by the Center for the Humanities Undergraduate Honors Research Fellowship and International Activities Fund (2004–05). Support from the Maurice Amado Foundation and the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum (2005) and a United States Fulbright Fellowship to Greece (2005–06) enabled further research. Appreciation is also due to YIVO Institute for Jewish Research, the Jewish Community of Thessaloniki, the Jewish Museum of Thessaloniki, the Jewish Museum of Greece in Athens, the Central Archive for the History of the Jewish People in Jerusalem and Stanford University.
2. “Lost part of the history of the Jews returns to its owners” [Greek], Adesmevtos Tipos (Unbound Press), 29 June 2000.
3. Shabtai Teveth, Ben-Gurion: The Burning Ground, 1886–1948, (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Co., 1987), 78.
4. Esther Benbassa, “The History of Private Life and of Families: Objects and New Methodologies for the Study of Sephardi-Jewish History,” in International Congress on Sephardi and Oriental Jewry: Hispano-Jewish Civilization after 1492, (Jerusalem: Misgav Jerusalem, 1997), 27–37; see, e.g., Gabriel Arie, A Sephardi Life in Southeastern Europe: the Autobiography and Journal of Gabriel Arie, 1863–1939, eds. Esther Benbassa and Aron Rodrigue, (Seattle: University of Washington, 1998); cf. Diane Matza “Jewish Immigrant Autobiography: the Anomaly of a Sephardic Example,” MELUS: Society for the Study of the Multi-Ethnic Literature of the United States 14 (Spring 1987): 33–41.
5. Izo Abram, “Official and Private Judeo-Spanish Texts in Solitreo,” presented at the Third International Judeo-Spanish Conference: Social and Cultural Life in Salonika through Judeo-Spanish Texts, Thessaloniki, 17–18 October 2004.
6. Jeffrey S. Malka, Sephardic Genealogy: Discovering Your Sephardic Ancestors and their World, (Bergenfield, NJ: Avotaynu, 2002); Mathilde A. Tagger and Yitzchak Kerem, Guidebook for Sephardic and Oriental Genealogical Sources, (Teaneck, NJ: Avotaynu, 2006).
7. Laurence Abensur-Hazan, “How to Research Families from Turkey and Salonika,” AVOTAYNU, XIV, No. 1, Spring 1998: 28–30.
8. Yomtov Yacoel, “The Memoir of Yomtov Yacoel (1943),” in The Holocaust in Salonika: Eyewitness Accounts, Steven Bowman, trans. Isaac Benmayor, (New York: Bloch, 2002), 25.
9. CAHJP, Gr/Sa file 253: Family tree of Rabbi Jossef ben Yehouda ben Oser, January 1940.
10. Yitzchak Kerem, “The Confiscation of Jewish Books in Salonika in the Holocaust,” in The Holocaust and the Book: Destruction and Preservation, ed. Jonathan Rose (Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 2001), 61–68.
11. Patricia Kennedy Grimsted, “Roads to Ratibor: Library and Archival Plunder by the Einsatzstab Reichsleiter Rosenberg,” Holocaust and Genocide Studies 19, no. 3 (Winter 2005): 390–458; idem., “Twice Plundered or ‘Twice Saved’? Identifying Russia’s ‘Trophy’ Archives and the Loot of the Reichssicherheitshauptamt,” Holocaust and Genocide Studies 15, no. 2 (Fall 2001): 191–244.
12. Marilyn Henry, “Russia to Return Salonika’s Jewish Archives to Greece,” Jerusalem Post, 7 July 2000.
13. Yitzchak Kerem, “Documentation on Sephardic and Balkan Jewry at the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum Archives and U.S. National Archives,” AVOTAYNU Vol. XV, No. 4, Winter 1999: 20; Kerem errs in stating that the USHMM already has the entirety of the archives from Moscow on microfilm. Minna Rozen, “Project to Research Turkish and Balkan Countries at Diaspora Research Institute,” AVOTAYNU Vol. XIX, No. 2, Summer 2003: 36; idem., “The Archives of the Salonika Community as a Key to the Economic Life of the Jews of Salonika between the Two World Wars: Desiderata, Possibilities, and Constraints,” in Occupations professionelles, production-commerce, vie sociale a Thessaloniki, 18e–20e siecles (Professional Occupations, production business, social life of Thessaloniki, 18th–20th centuries), eds. A. Dagas and H. Antoniadis Bibicou (Thessaloniki: 1998), 121–126; idem., The Last Ottoman Century and Beyond: The Jews in Turkey and the Balkans, 1808–1945, vol. 1 (Tel Aviv: Tel Aviv University, 2005).
14. N. Kuzelenkov, M.S. Kupovetskii, and David E. Fishman, eds., Dokumenty po istorii i kul’ture evreev v trofeinykh kollektsiiakh Rossiiskogo gosudarstvennogo voennogo arkhiva Putevoditel, (Moscow: Rosarkhiv; RGGU: RGVA; Jewish Theological Seminary of America; YIVO Institute for Jewish Research, 2005), 93–100 [Russian]; thanks to the USHMM for supplying a copy of the relevant pages and Irene Goldman for her translation.
15. See Robert G. Waite, “Returning Jewish Cultural Property: the Handling of Books Looted by the Nazis in the American Zone of Occupation, 1945 to 1952,” Libraries & Culture 37, no. 3, (Summer 2002): 213–228.
16. Photini Constantopoulou and Thanos Veremis, eds., Documents on the History of the Greek Jews: Records from the Historical Archives of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, (Athens: Kastaniotis Editions, 1999), 393–94, doc. 157; Devin E. Naar, “Twice Lost, Twice Found: The Archives and Libraries of Salonika, the Jerusalem of the Balkans,” presented at the VIIIth Congress of the European Association of Jewish Studies, Moscow, 26–29 July 2006.
17. See Devin E. Naar, With Their Own Words: Glimpses of Jewish Life in Thessaloniki before the Holocaust, (Thessaloniki: The Jewish Community of Thessaloniki, 2006).
18. David E. Fishman, “Embers Plucked from the Fire: The Rescue of Jewish Cultural Treasures in Vilna,” in The Holocaust and the Book, 66–77.
19. Devin E. Naar, “Rediscovering the Archives of the Jewish Community of Salonika: A Project at the YIVO Institute for Jewish Research in New York,” El Avenir: Newsletter of the Jewish Community of Thessaloniki 3 (September 2005): 14–16.
20. Grimsted, “Roads to Ratibor,” 442 n. 106, mentions the Amsterdam file; this file, at the Amsterdam Municipal Archive (file 1407 nr. 724), contains budgetary information pertaining to the Baron Hirsch Hospital and is not of genealogical interest. Thanks to Odette Vlessing and Harmen Snel for a copy of this file.
21. David Bunis, “The Language of the Sephardim: A Historical Overview,” in Moreshet Sepharad: The Sephardi Legacy, ed. Haim Beinart, vol. 2 (Jerusalem: Magnes Press, Hebrew University, 1992), 399–422.
22. See George K. Zucker, “Ladino, Judezmo, Spanyolit, El Kasteyano Muestro,” Shofar: An Interdisciplinary Journal of Jewish Studies 19, no. 4 (2001): 4–14.
23. David Bunis, Guide to Reading and Writing Judezmo, (New York: Adelantre!, the Judezmo Society, 1975); basic charts appear in Malka, Sephardic Genealogy, 277, and, by Brian Berman, in Naar, Glimpses of Jewish Life, 8.
24. Rachel Amado Bortnick, “The Internet and Judeo-Spanish: Impact and Implications of a Virtual Community,” in Proceedings of the Twelfth British Conference on Judeo-Spanish Studies, 24–25 June, 2001: Sephardic Language, Literature and History, eds. Hillary Pomeroy and Michael Alpert (Leiden: Brill, 2004), 3–12.
25. See George K. Zucker, “Problems of Transcribing Sephardic Texts into the Roman Alphabet,” New Horizons in Sephardic Studies, eds. Yedida K. Stillman and George K. Zucker, (Albany, N. Y.: State University of New York Press, 1993), 215–20.
26. CAHJP Gr/Sa file 358; On the Ottoman census, see Kemal H. Karpat, “Ottoman Population Records and the Census of 1881/82–1893,” International Journal of Middle East Studies 9, no. 3 (October 1978): 237–274.
27. JMTh, RG-1 folder 1; Naar, Glimpses of Jewish Life, 12–14.
28. Abensur-Hazan, “How to Research Families from Turkey and Salonika,” mentions this as well; also see Malka, Sephardic Genealogy.
29. JMTh, RG-1, folder 20: Daout Levy, “Rapporto sovre la Communidad Djudia de Thessaloniki a partir del anio 1870 asta el 1940 sea por ouna perioda de circa 60/70 anios,” June 1942, 11–12.
30. JMTh, RG-1, folder 16: Haim Almaleh and Alberto Rousso, “Raporto del bureau del Estado-Civil,” 1 June 1935; Daout Levy [?], “Statistica sovre la population sepharadite djudia de Thessaloniki,” c. 1940/1941 [?]. Rena Molho refers to the latter report in her Oi Evraioi tis Thessalonikis 1856–1919: Mia Idiaiteri Koinotita (The Jews of Thessaloniki, 1856–1919: A Unique Community) (Athens: Themelio, 2001), 36–38 [Greek].
31. YIVO, RG-207, folders 1, 2, 3; see Naar, Glimpses of Jewish Life, 15–17. I thank Isaac Benmayor for the preliminary finding aid he composed for YIVO’s Salonika collection, RG-207.
32. JMTh, RG-1, folder 16: Diafora Onomata Israilitika (Different Jewish Names) 14 November 1939, contains lists of the varieties of surnames (and given names) that were recorded in the communal census volumes [Greek]; cf. Sari Meyer, “A Study Tracing Salonican Surnames to Spain,” The Jewish Museum of Greece Newsletter 31 (1991): 1–4 and 32 (1992):1–6.
33. Records of the Beit Din of Salonika, 1920–1940, are preserved in YIVO, RG-207, folders 12–16.
34. JMTh, RG-1, folders 7, 8, 9, 10; see Naar, Glimpses of Jewish Life, 18–20.
35. On Koretz see Ethan Eck, “New Light on the Charges Against the Last Chief Rabbi of Salonica,” Yad Vashem Bulletin 19 (1966): 28–35; Minna Rozen, “Jews and Greek Remember Their Past: The Political Career of Tzevi Koretz (1933–1943),” Jewish Social Studies 12, no.1 (Fall 2005): 111–166.
36. JMTh, RG-1, folder 20: Levy, “Rapporto sovre la Communidad Djudia de Thessaloniki,” 7; JMTh, RG-1, folder 16: “Processo Verbal,” 12 December 1934.
37. USHMM, RG-11.001M.51, Records of Jüdische Gemeinde, Saloniki, Moscow fond 1428, reel 198, folder 116: Letter from Alfonso Levy, head of the department of statistics and civil status, to the Chief Rabbi, 7 January 1936.
38. JMTh, RG-1, folder 16: Greek charts of registered births and deaths, 1936–1940, by Haim Almaleh, 27 May 1941; see Naar, Glimpses of Jewish Life in Thessaloniki before the Holocaust, 21–23.
39. Aron Rodrigue, French Jews, Turkish Jews: The Alliance Israélite Universelle and the Politics of Jewish Schooling in Turkey, 1860–1925, (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1990).
40. Paul Dumont, “The Social Structure of the Jewish Community of Salonica at the End of the Nineteenth Century,” Southeastern Europe 5 no. 2 (1978): 33–72; Rena Molho, “Education in the Jewish Community of Thessaloniki in the Beginning of the Twentieth Century,” Balkan Studies 34, no. 2 (1993): 259–269.
41. JMTh, RG-1, folder 16: “Regolamento por los servizios del Gran-Rabino y perticolarmente por el delivramiento de assertationes y certificatos,” 13 February 1934; Daout Levy [?], “Statistica sovre la population sepharadite djudia de Thessaloniki,” c. 1940/1941 [?]; folder 11: Statutos dela Komunita Yisraelita de Saloniko, (7 March 1921).
42. Naar, Glimpses of Jewish Life, 21–23.
43. YIVO, RG-207, folder 8.
44. YIVO, RG-207, folder 9.
45. YIVO, RG-207, folder 10; other birth registrations include: CAHJP Gr/Sa files 113, 206, 249, 2833; JMTh, RG-1, folder 2. The Jewish Museum of Greece in Athens holds an additional six volumes of birth registrations containing 2550 certificates for girls from 1929 to 1933!
46. JMTh, RG-1, folder 3.
47. YIVO, RG-207, folder 5.
48. Michael Molho, Usos y Costumbres de los Sefardies de Salonica, trans. Perez Castro, (Madrid: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, Instituto Arias Montano, 1950), 67. See the English translation, Michael Molho, Traditions and Customs of the Sephardic Jews of Salonica, ed. Robert Bedford, (New York: The Foundation for the Advancement of Sephardic Studies and Culture, 2006).
49. YIVO, RG-207, folder 104: Letters from the Jewish community of Salonika to Elie Cohen, 28 April 1935 and 9 May 1935.
50. Leah Bornstein-Makovetsky, “Jewish Names in Istanbul in the 18th and 19th Centuries: A Study Based on Bills of Divorce,” in These Are The Names, Studies in Jewish Onomastics, ed. Aaron Demsky, Joseph A. Reif, and Joseph Tabory (Ramat Gan: Bar Ilan Univerity Press, 1997), 13–26.
51. Molho, Usos y Costumbres, 67; Yitzchak Kerem, “On Sephardic and Romaniote Names,” These Are the Names, Studies in Jewish Onomastics, vol. 2, ed. Aaron Demsky (Ramat Gan: Bar Ilan Univerity Press, 1999), 113–136.
52. Molho, Usos y Costumbres, 166–67; Dumont, “The Social Structure of the Jewish Community of Salonica at the End of the Nineteenth Century,” 46, 58–9.

See dictionaries such as Joseph Nehama, Dictionnaire du judéo-espagnol, (Madrid: Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, Instituto Benito Arias Montano, 1977); Elli Kohen and