Tropical Zion: General Trujillo, FDR, and the Jews of Sosúa

by Allen Wells

Seven hundred and fifty Jewish refugees fled Nazi Germany and founded the agricultural settlement of Sosúa in the Dominican Republic, then ruled by one of Latin America’s most repressive dictators, General Rafael Trujillo. In Tropical Zion , Allen Wells, a distinguished historian and the son of a Sosúa settler, tells the compelling story of General Trujillo, Franklin Delano Roosevelt, and those fortunate pioneers who founded a successful employee-owned dairy cooperative on the north shore of the island. Why did a dictator admit these desperate refugees when so few nations would accept those fleeing fascism? Eager to mollify international critics after his army had massacred 15,000 unarmed Haitians, Trujillo sent representatives to Évian, France, in July, 1938 for a conference on refugees from Nazism. Proposed by FDR to deflect criticism from his administration’s restrictive immigration policies, the Évian Conference proved an abject failure. The Dominican Republic was the only nation that agreed to open its doors. Obsessed with stemming the tide of Haitian migration across his nation’s border, the opportunistic Trujillo sought to “whiten” the Dominican populace, welcoming Jewish refugees who were themselves subject to racist scorn in Europe. The Roosevelt administration sanctioned the Sosúa colony. Since the United States did not accept Jewish refugees in significant numbers, it encouraged Latin America to do so. That prodding, paired with FDR’s overriding preoccupation with fighting fascism, strengthened U.S. relations with Latin American dictatorships for decades to come. Meanwhile, as Jewish organizations worked to get Jews out of Europe, discussions about the fate of worldwide Jewry exposed fault lines between Zionists and Non-Zionists. Throughout his discussion of these broad dynamics, Wells weaves vivid narratives about the founding of Sosúa, the original settlers and their families, and the life of the unconventional beach-front colony.

Genres: History, Nonfiction

480 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 2008

Reviews

[JT · Rating 5 out of 5]

My grandfather and grandmother on my mother's side were both Sosuan settlers. Trujillo was a brutal dictator, but on the other hand, he saved countless lives. Allen Wells' book on the subject is well-sourced, well-researched and well-written, documenting the history of this colony, its settlers and its relationship with the Dominican government. Despite the role of Trujillo as a savior to many, the picture that this book paints of the dictator is not entirely rosy. Events such as the Galindez affair demonstrated the dictator's ruthless, authoritarian and intolerant nature. Although Trujillo naturally enjoyed at least a modicum of support from the Jewish settlers of Sosua, many were also wary of his despotic ways. This is aptly illustrated and documented from a number of interviews that Wells conducted with former settlers, including my grandparents. Beyond Trujillo, the book also discusses the cooperatives and enterprises that the Sosuan settlers established.

For those with Jewish relatives that hailed from Sosua, there is no better or more professional book on the subject.

[Dvora Treisman · Rating 4 out of 5]

I was born in the colony of Sosua but knew almost nothing about it. This book not only told about the history of this extremely interesting place but also about the Jewish refugees from Europe that no one wanted, before, during, and after the second World War. If you are interested in Jewish history, Holocaust history, Latin America, or cooperative farming experiments, you would probably like this book.

[Jerry Smith · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a book, and a story, that will probably remain unknown to most. It certainly was for me and, indeed, the only reason I picked this up was due to the organization I run, which provides healthcare services to communities in the DR, including Sosua. Sosua these days is highly dedicated to tourism and, in particular, sex tourism which is very prevalent during the evening. This is mentioned in the text at the end as the story wraps up, but this is a tale of a very different sort and it is something of a secret history to most I would imagine.

The history of the Dominican Republic is interesting in its own right, as is the story of Hispaniola itself. It is a history, as are most histories, replete with horrors as as well as edification and the story of Sosua in general, and this time in DR history in particular, is this in microcosm. Trujillo was a vile dictator and strongman who ruled the DR from 1930 to 1961 when he was assassinated with suspected help from the CIA. His time in power was known for his development of the military, the police, the secret police and the ruthless putting down of any dissent. Of course, he was quick to tout his anticommunist credentials, at least until it became politically expedient for his to reverse that stance. As such, he enjoyed a great deal of support from the US who had, and has, an extremely long history of supporting vile regimes that they believe help foster American geopolitical goals.

Trujillo's most egregious atrocity was undoubtedly the massacre of up to 30000 Haitians close to the border in the infamous "Parsley Massacre" in 1937. Indeed, it was the international condemnation of this outrage that led in part to one of the more beneficial things he ever did, which was offering sanctuary and land to jewish people persecuted by the Third Reich, and this forms the basis of this book.

We are old the story from when the colony was first proposed, to its ultimate dissolution as the world changed post-Trujillo and the new state of the world. There were plans for tens of thousands of immigrants into Sosua, but this never really happened for a variety of reasons that are explored here. Some of these are related to zionist vs anti-zionist factions but the main reason seemed to be red tape and bureaucratic nonsense from the American authorities overseeing the immigration and the program itself. Such bureaucratic arguing and foot dragging is more usually the cause of these problems I think, than things such as genuine malfeasance.

The colony was beset by problems such as one would expect when moving from largely urban Europe into a life of farming in tropical DR! It is a credit to those who made it work, as well as an important humanitarian act from Trujillo, even though his motives seemed to be more self-serving than purely altruistic. However, when one looks at the appalling inaction of most of the so called civilized countries in refusing such immigration to those under the Nazi heal, he deserves credit for it.

I have been to Sosua and stood in the synagogue that is discussed here. It is hard to imagine the color now it is fair to say but this history deserves to be told and proves once again, that history itself is never simple and rarely pure. The book is somewhat heavy going, being long at nearly 500 pages and replete with many players as one would expect, but is well told. Definitely worth reading as a side event in world history that deserves, in my opinion, greater coverage.

[Sarah Laurence · Rating 5 out of 5]

A fascinating story about Jewish refugees in the Dominican Republic during WWII. This thoroughly researched book is written in an academic style by the son of a Sosuan settler. There are disturbing moral ambiguities: General Trujillo, a dictator for 3 decades, massacred 15,000 Haitians and yet he saved close to 1,000 Jews from the Nazis and even more if you count a couple thousand more visas issued to Jews who settled in other countries. I'd recommend this book to those interested in refugees, Latin American history, and/or Jewish diaspora.

My personal connection: my great grandfather, Arthur Lamport, was involved in the fundraising and negotiations to rescue the Sosuan Jews, and the author used to teach at Bowdoin College with my husband. I just reread Tropical Zion to research an historical novel inspired by this true story.

[Carmen · Rating 4 out of 5]

Superb read by my friend Allen Wells!

[Marilyn · Rating 2 out of 5]

It can't be all that well known that during WW II, General Trujillo invited European Jews to settle in the Dominican Republic. Well documented, but, as might be expected, a bit dry.

[Jeffrey · Rating 3 out of 5]

By day Baileys Bar and Grill is an ordinary place. Like most beachside cabanas, it is open and informal, easy to wander into without much thought. Its thatched roof, in concert with a pair of large and silent fans, calls to mind the flanks of a besieged army, unaware that the remainder of its force has laid down arms against the relentless tropical sun, its ramparts made low. If once there were views to the nearby sea, there are no longer. Now the establishment is surrounded by concrete resorts and a tangle of informal development. The streets are sleepy, even the squeals and protests of children at play seem to emanate from some distant, impossible place.

As day gives way to night, sun gives way to sin. On Calle Pedro Clisante neon signs flicker to life. The merengues multiply and scores of dark skinned local girls, their dresses tight and provocatively cut, their hair primped, their makeup overdone, spill onto the sidewalks advertising their wares. Then the clientele arrives. In pairs and threes, sometimes alone, they wander in and out of the bars and brothels along the bustling street. Even Baileys, hangdog just hours earlier, swells with a lively mix of bored resort goers, preying conmen, well-employed bouncers, petty hustlers, eager prostitutes, and Haitian children selling whatever might pry loose a few pesos from a sympathetic or inebriated tourist.

In the shadows of this dystopian gaiety stands a humble, wooden synagogue. It’s a testament to several generations of mostly German and Austrian Jews who settled the area beginning in the 1940s. Most of them came as refugees from Europe, some later from China. They knew little about the Dominican Republic and even less about the out-of-the-way place on the north coast called Sosua where many would make their livelihoods. Their story of persistence in the face of adversity, of success built from meager beginnings, is as uplifting as it is improbable. Yet besides the synagogue and a small museum, few visible traces of the once robust Jewish community remain.

If the memory of that community is fading in Sosua itself, it has more recently captured the imagination of historians. In conjunction with and shortly after a major exhibit at the Museum of Jewish Heritage in New York City in 2008, two books were published recounting the story of Sosua. The first to appear was Marion Kaplan’s Dominican Haven: The Jewish Refugee Settlement in Sosua, 1940-1945. As a finalist for the 2008 National Jewish Book Award in the Holocaust category, Kaplan’s book was praised as “a definitive history” of the Jewish settlement at Sosua. Kaplan takes as her starting point the international conference on refugees held at Evian, France in 1938 and ends with a short discussion of the slow dissolution of Sosua as Jewish settlement, but Dominican Haven is mostly concerned with the settlement's existence during World War II.

For readers more interested in a wider scope of history surrounding the colony, it is the second of the two books that will be of greater interest. Allen Wells is a scholar of Latin American history and the son of one of Sosua’s original settlers. His book, Tropical Zion: General Trujillo, FDR, and the Jews of Sosua investigates not only the colony itself, but also its larger geopolitical implications. In great detail he shows how Jewish immigration was used as a political tool by the ruthless dictator General Trujillo, how President Franklin Roosevelt hoped it would relieve pressure from advocates of increased immigration in the United States leading up to and during the war, how Jewish relief organizations used its funding as a proxy in a larger ideological struggle, and even how Germany may have tried to use disinformation to link the colony to Nazi espionage activity in the Western Hemisphere. Wells' history takes the reader up to the present day, even documenting some of the sordid dealings between the community’s financial backers and local Dominican businessmen in the late 1970s; deals that played a role in creating what is today a decidedly low-end resort town.

If it is hard to fathom Sosua as a German speaking Jewish enclave, then undoubtedly it will be even harder to imagine it as a virgin, sparsely populated landscape less than seventy-five years ago. The large tract that today makes up the municipality was formerly owned by General Trujillo who ruled the DR from 1930 until his assassination in 1961. At the Evian Conference, his government offered to resettle 100,000 refugees from Europe, the only country to make such an offer. Shortly thereafter, the tract was made available in order to house the first tranche of that massive resettlement effort. Trujillo, who had earlier encouraged Spanish Republican exiles to resettle in the DR, saw the potential to lighten the racial profile of the Dominican nation. Perhaps more importantly, however, he viewed the offer as a public relations effort designed to repair his international reputation after having slaughtered 15,000 Haitian peasants several years earlier.

In the end, 100,000 Jews did not arrive from the shores of Europe. The number in total was 757. And of those, most would leave for America soon after the war’s end when immigration restrictions in the United States were relaxed. The reasons behind the very small percentage of expected refugees were numerous and, according to Wells, had little to do with General Trujillo or the Dominicans. One of the most interesting reasons was the struggle between anti-Zionist and Zionist philanthropic organizations. The Zionists saw the prospect of 100,000 Jews leaving Europe for the DR as a challenge to their ultimate goal of creating a Jewish state in Palestine. Even a diminished Sosua, in their eyes represented a distraction and, in a time of limited resources, an inefficient and expensive means of saving lives. In addition, the U.S. State Department, throughout the war, was worried about the possibility of collaborationist activities or Nazi infiltrators among the settlers. Though no cases of either were ever discovered, it did make passage to the DR from Europe problematic as U.S. transit visas were difficult to attain.

For those fortunate settlers who were chosen to be among the first group of colonists, life was difficult. Many were middle class urbanites unused to the rigors of rural life. The earliest leader of the settlement was Joseph Rosen, a Russian who had successfully shepherded a massive resettlement of Soviet Jews from Ukraine and Belorussia to collective farms on the steppes of the Northern Crimea after World War I. He and other promoters envisioned that Sosua would be an agricultural colony and homesteads were quickly organized into small collectives. The soils and topography around Sosua, however, weren’t conducive to cultivation and before long the settlers quickly realized that husbandry and dairying represented the economic future of the colony. Before the end of the war, the collectively owned dairy was delivering milk and butter all across the DR, including to the capital Ciudad Trujillo, which at that time was twelve hours away by road.

Though the settlers were able in short measure to penetrate the local economy with their products, their integration to the larger Dominican society was more fraught. Part of this had to do with Dominican government efforts to prevent commercial leakage from the colony that might threaten small business owners in the capital, but Wells identifies a more important reason. He notes:

Typically, refugees are treated as second-class citizens in their new surroundings, and their cultural values are held in low regard. Discrimination is a defining characteristic of their experience, and they internalize their feelings of inferiority. Clearly, however, this did not happen to Sosuaners; the Dominicans thought highly of them. The settlers themselves, by contrast, thought of their neighbors as less educated and less worldly than they. Inverting this fundamental premise had significant ramifications for the colony’s future. For one thing, it erected physical and psychological barriers that made Sosua a world apart from Dominican society.

Those barriers, though real, didn’t prevent some marriages between settlers and Dominican women, but the instances were rare. For those who chose to stay, German did eventually give way to Spanish, but acculturation was difficult. At least one settler attributed his decision to leave for America to his two daughters. Specifically he hoped to avoid the possibility that they might marry a Dominican, who, it was observed, only “formed loose common-law marriages and appeared to practice a kind of serial monogamy; a man would live with a woman for a time, have a child or two, and then leave and begin another relationship.” Such anecdotes remind the reader of the stark reality that one group of people was forced to leave their homeland because of their perceived racial and ethnic inferiority only to be resettled in a new land where they perceived themselves to be racially and ethnically superior. While Wells does mention this social and psychological juxtapositioning in passing, it deserves greater treatment, perhaps even looking to parallel examples of this with concurrent Jewish immigration to Palestine.

By 1950, only about 200 of the 757 Jewish settlers remained in the colony and over the next thirty years that number would continue to decrease with deaths and emigration. By 1965, about 125 remaining settlers owned 10,000 head of cattle and were economically successful. The American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee, which was the primary funder of the settlement for more than three decades, was looking to divest its interests and by the end of the 1970s, it would sell off its final stake. Even the very successful dairy cooperative was sold in 2003 to a Mexican conglomerate. Today only a very small number of the original settlers remain. While some of their children have stayed, the Jewish footprint in the community is minor. Always a secular community, little Judaism can still be found. Undoubtedly, however, the legacy that Sosua left lives on not only in Sosua, but also in the hearts and family histories of those who spent time there.

Tropical Zion taken as a whole never feels like a comfortable history. Its combination of a top-down view crafted through meticulous archival research rarely integrates seamlessly with the bottom-up perspective provided by numerous interviews and other oral histories. When done well, the benefit of such an approach is that the reader is given a great deal of context in which to situate a given history. When not done well the combination can be taxing, especially for the general reader. As a Latin Americanist, Wells’ interest in U.S. relations with the region is clearly evident, but those portions of the book documenting the infighting and contentious relationships within the State Department add little value to the text as a whole. Yet if this is a problem of inclusion, surely the most glaring fault of the book is one of omission. For all the discussion of integration, or lack thereof, with the surrounding Dominican society, there are startlingly few Dominican voices. In numerous places throughout the book, interviews with the residents of nearby villages, or with those who provided their labor to the settlers, or with the Dominican children who attended school in Sosua would have added immeasurable value. Without those voices, the history of Sosua will never be complete or definitive.

As the first hints of dawn begin to color the eastern sky, the revelers on Calle Pedro Clisante begin to stumble back to their hotels, their ears ringing, their eyes reddened. The proprietor of Baileys Bar and Grill closes up after another long and busy night. Several doors down, in front of the small Museo Judio Sosua a night watchman sits on a small wooden stool, his loaded shotgun cradled in both of his hands. After having been a commercial fisherman for most of his adult life, he gave it up five years earlier; said it was too dangerous for an old man. Now, for twelve hours a night, seven nights a week he sits outside the locked gate of the museum protecting its meager collection from vandals and other miscreants. The museum pays him about 1000 pesos a week, an annual salary equivalent to about $1500. When asked, he says he doesn’t know much about the Jews of Sosua, having grown up in another town, but he says he is thankful for the museum and a good job that puts food on the table for his family.
© October 11, 2011 Jeffrey L. Otto