Late for Tea at the Deer Palace: The Lost Dreams of My Iraqi Family by Tamara Chalabi

Author:Tamara Chalabi [Chalabi, Tamara]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2011-07-21T04:00:00+00:00

In spite of the nationalist leanings of many of her acquaintances, Bibi was vehemently opposed to Hitler. She knew that he had started this war, and for that she would never forgive him. She had also learned about some of his crimes in Europe from her Jewish friends, the Munashis, Sha’shous and Lawis, who had told her of persecution and of the Kristallnacht pogrom of November 1938.

She hated the pro-Axis politicians, and covered her ears whenever she heard Yunis Bahri’s voice blaring out of the radio. It seemed to her that these days Iraq was possessed by violence. The language on the streets had changed, becoming harsher and coarser, and the atmosphere rippled with tension. One afternoon towards the end of May 1941, while riding in a carriage on her way back home from Baghdad, she was incensed when she heard men outside a café cheering news of German planes bombing London. She was even more outraged when she overheard Ghaffuri, the driver who had replaced Karim, agreeing with Ali Akbar that Hitler was going to win the war.

Early one evening a man knocked at the door of the Chalabi house. He was thin, with neat greying hair, and was dressed simply in a white shirt and navy trousers. He introduced himself as Nabil, and said he needed to see the master of the house urgently; he had a message from his boss, Mr Lawi, a Jewish friend of Hadi’s from Samau’al Street.

Ni’mati noticed that the man was sweating despite the cool of the evening, and wondered why he was so nervous. He was slightly put out by the request, as Hadi was taking a siesta, and Ni’mati never liked to wake him up. Nevertheless, he proceeded to Hadi’s room, knocked gently and softly called, ‘Effendi, there’s a man here to see you. She says it’s very important, from Mr Lawi.’ Ni’mati always switched genders around. Although he had lived in Iraq for most of his life, he never fully mastered Arabic.

Hadi jumped out of bed at once, and asked Ni’mati to get the visitor some tea. When he joined Nabil downstairs, their conversation was direct and to the point. Nabil’s boss, Mr Lawi, was asking Hadi for help. Given the current tensions, he and the heads of several other families felt unsafe in their neighbourhood, and wanted Hadi to find a place where they could lie low until things calmed down. Rumours were rife that the Baghdadi Jews had rejoiced at the attack on the Iraqi force at Habbaniya, and that British-trained Jewish secret agents had been recruited in Palestine to help the British fight the Iraqi Army. The news had not yet spread of Rashid ’Ali’s flight, and many of his proclamations were still heard in the streets.

‘Please tell Mr Lawi that this is his house and anyone he brings with him is welcome,’ Hadi assured Nabil. ‘Please hurry and tell him I’m waiting for him to come as soon as possible.’ He immediately started to instruct his

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