“My apologies, but these are terrible times for our Community. Exigent times, in fact, and quotidian business cannot hold sway.” Chief Rabbi Zolli shifted forward. “Roman Jews are under grave threat since the Nazi occupation. I have studied the matter, and it is my considered opinion that we need to encourage them to evacuate and emigrate. We need to disperse and disband Italian Jewry.”
Almansi recoiled, alarmed. “What an extreme suggestion! I don’t share your concerns.”
“Nor do I,” Foà added, with a deep frown. “What are you saying? Run away? We live here! Even so, Chief Rabbi, where would everyone to go? Who has the means to travel or move?”
Sandro could see that neither Almansi nor Foà were going to agree with Chief Rabbi Zolli, who had always been an outsider. Unlike Almansi and Foà, born of storied Italian families, Chief Rabbi Zolli was a naturalized Italian from Eastern Europe, and his demeanor tended to be excitable, unlike the reserved Almansi and Foà. Even Sandro’s father disagreed with him.
“I can speak to those concerns,” Chief Rabbi Zolli answered, agitated. “I say we close the synagogue and our office, draw down our Community bank account, and use the money to fund the safe escape of our members. We can also prevail upon the Vatican to hide more of us in convents and monasteries. We must act immediately.”
Almansi’s lips parted in disbelief. “The synagogue, closed? What about services on the High Holy Days?”
“We must cancel them. It’s too dangerous to hold them. The Nazis could swoop down on all of us. We’re too vulnerable when we collect in one place.”
Almansi threw up his hands. “There’s no need for such dire and unprecedented actions. You’ll spread fear and hysteria. Furthermore, it would be unduly provocative to the Nazis.”
Foà chimed in, “Rabbi Zolli, you’re panicking without cause.”
Chief Rabbi Zolli frowned. “I’m not panicking, I’m reacting. You’re doing nothing!”
Almansi lifted a graying eyebrow. “There’s nothing that needs doing. We loathe the fact that we are occupied, but that necessitates no call to action. The Nazis have instituted martial law, so order is the rule of the day. We need to stay the course—”
“No, we don’t!” Chief Rabbi Zolli shot back. “You’re underestimating the threat. Italian Jews are in mortal peril, now that Nazis have taken Rome. I no longer feel safe walking the streets of the Ghetto. Many of my congregation feel the same way. You don’t need me to tell you about the deportations elsewhere.”
Almansi shook his head. “Rome has always stood on different footing. We will remain that way, due to the presence of the Vatican.”
“I have to reiterate, I truly think you are underestimating the threat.”
Almansi hesitated. “Chief Rabbi Zolli, if you must know, we have had assurances there will be no trouble, from those in whom we have unshakable confidence, highly placed in government.”
Chief Rabbi Zolli scoffed. “Then I am hereby requesting that we destroy the Community’s list of Jews resident in Rome. As you may know, there are two lists, one of those who contribute to the Community in the graduated income tax, which includes almost all of the city’s Jews. The secondary list is the index cards containing the names, addresses, birthdays, and genealogy of every Jew living in Rome.”
“Destroy them? Out of the question.” Almansi’s hooded eyes flared. “Those are the official records of the Community. They represent the history of our very members.”
“Then I’m not asking your permission. No matter your disagreement, I intend to destroy those lists, close the synagogue, and tell my congregation to disperse—”
“No, you may not and you will not.” Almansi scowled. “Chief Rabbi, you lack the power over any such things. Your jurisdiction concerns religious questions raised within the Jewish Community of Rome. The actions you propose have nothing to do with religious matters. As such, they lie outside the scope of your authority.”
Chief Rabbi Zolli turned to Sandro’s father. “Massimo, is that correct?”
“Allow me to check.” His father motioned to Sandro, who crossed to him with the heavy briefcase, set it down, and unlatched the top. His father riffled through the files and extracted a sheaf of papers while Sandro returned to his seat.
His father read the papers, then looked up. “Chief Rabbi Zolli, President Almansi and President Foà are correct. They retain authority over governance and administrative matters such as these. You have authority only on religious questions.”