First Ghetto Still Celebrates Jewish Faith : Italy: In the Middle Ages some Venetians wanted to expel Jews. In a compromise, they were confined to the site of an abandoned factory.

At first glance, the spacious cobblestone square looks much like any other in this watery old city.

But closer inspection reveals some unusual features. Most of the buildings flanking the square are taller than those in the city’s other piazzas. Halfway up one is a row of five arched windows. Atop another is a small wooden cupola.

This is the “Campo del Ghetto,” site of the world’s first Jewish ghetto and source of the word that has come to signify enforced segregation and repression--something that Jews no longer endure.

Originally designated for Jewish settlement in 1516, the Venetian enclave at one time was home to more than 5,000 Jews.

Today only about 20 Jews still live here, but the area remains the heart of Jewish spiritual, social and intellectual life in Venice.

“This unique patrimony is a testimony to the treasures a small community can produce, despite confinement, oppression, persecution--provided it is enlivened by deep faith,” said Renato Jona, director of Venice’s Jewish community.

It’s not surprising that the first Jewish ghetto was established in Italy. This country was home to the first Jews in Europe more than 2,000 years ago.

Italian Jews experienced alternating periods of acceptance and hostility, depending in part on the attitude of the reigning Pope. In general they were treated better than in other countries, said Riccardo Calimani, a Venetian Jewish historian and author of the most comprehensive history of the ghetto.

In the Middle Ages some Venetians, concerned about economic competition, wanted to expel local Jews. Others demurred, pointing to Jewish importance in money lending, a calling that the church forbade Catholics.

A compromise was reached that became a model for many other cities: Jews were to be confined to a separate quarter.

The area chosen was a small island in the northern part of Venice known as the “Ghetto Nuovo” (New Foundry) because it was the site of an abandoned cannon factory.

In 1516 about 700 Jews of German and Italian origin were moved into the enclave. Massive gates were set up at the bridges onto the island, and buildings were connected to form a wall.

Jews could not own property or take part in Venice’s international trade. They had to wear an identifying emblem--a round yellow badge at first, a yellow or scarlet hat later.

Guards were stationed at the entrances and patrolled the surrounding canals. The gates were opened at dawn, closed at dusk. Only during the day could Jews move freely about the city.

Christians and foreigners entered the ghetto to work and conduct business, to talk with Jewish scholars and attend theater performances. But the non-Jews couldn’t remain overnight. Sexual intimacy between Jews and Christians was against the law.

Dwellings in the ghetto were subdivided into tiny apartments, with six or seven people crammed into every room.

Because the only direction to expand was upward, buildings around the square rose to seven, eight and nine stories, double the height of most other Venetian residences.

As newcomers from Spain, Portugal, the Levant and other areas joined the original ghetto dwellers, an area on an adjacent island known as the “Ghetto Vecchio” (Old Ghetto) was allocated to the Jews, and in 1633 the ghetto expanded to another nearby neighborhood.

Despite the crowding, the confinement and the humiliation of ghetto life, the Jews of Venice managed to preserve their culture, religion and lifestyle and at the same time develop ties to the outside.

“Jews proudly identified themselves with the city and contributed to the creation of the myth that enveloped it,” Calimani wrote. “Venice needed the Jews, their work, their trades. . . .”

Five synagogues were constructed in the ghetto’s first 100 years. Built on the upper floors of existing structures, above shops and apartments, they were richly decorated inside, but were virtually unrecognizable from the street except for their traditional rows of tall arched windows and lovely cupolas.

One theory says the synagogues were intentionally camouflaged. But Susanna Scarpa, a guide in the ghetto, said they were built on the upper floors “to be nearer to God.”

In 1797, after Napoleon conquered the Venetian Republic, he had the ghetto’s gates torn down. Many Jews continued to live there, although the population to decline.

After the Veneto region was annexed by the Kingdom of Italy in 1866, Jews achieved full equality, and their lives became much like those of other Italians.

For a few pre-World War II years, Italian Jews escaped the brutal hatred and persecution found in Germany.

“It wasn’t until the infamous laws on race were introduced (in 1938) that we even learned that some of our schoolmates were Jewish,” recalls Alvise Zorzi, a historian who grew up in Venice.

The atmosphere deteriorated as relations between Adolf Hitler and Benito Mussolini became closer, and deportations began after Germany occupied Italy in 1943. By war’s end, about 7,500 Italian Jews had been killed in gas chambers and massacres, including more than 200 from Venice.

Today the ghetto looks much as it did four centuries ago, although it has become a quiet, low-rent neighborhood, populated almost entirely by non-Jews.

The synagogues have been restored. Rusty hinges from an old gate can still be seen at one entrance, as can a stone plaque listing the rules of ghetto living.

Like the general population of Venice, the number of the city’s Jews has dropped sharply--to about 540, said Renato Jona. Most live on the mainland in integrated neighborhoods.

Sabbath and High Holy Days’ services and other religious events are held in two of the original synagogues, the Spanish and Levantine.

The former ghetto area also houses a community center, a library and a rest home with a kosher kitchen. A museum filled with artifacts of Jewish life attracts tens of thousands of visitors every year.

“We intend to generate new activity in these places of precious memory,” said Jona. “The grandeur of the past shall be a spur for the future.”