The surname Khalastchi belongs to that fertile category of Eastern Jewish names which carry, inscribed in their syllables, the trace of a trade. The reference notice available to us identifies it as a Baghdadi patronym of Turco-Arabic origin, linked to the craft of metal smelting or refining, attested within the Jewish community of Baghdad. This indication alone opens a horizon that this volume sets out to explore: that of the Jews of Iraq, their millennial rootedness in Mesopotamia, and the social and professional structures that distinguished their families.
The name lends itself to analysis with a certain clarity. Its root refers to the Ottoman and Turkish verb halâs/khalâs — "to purify," "to render pure," "to refine" — itself drawn from an Arabic stock (khalaṣa, "to be pure, freed"), while the ending -çı/-tchi is the characteristic agent suffix of Turkish, denoting one who practises a trade (as in kahveci, the coffee-seller, or demirci, the blacksmith). The khalastchi would thus be, literally, "he who purifies" — that is to say the refiner of precious metals, the goldsmith-assayer, or the smelter tasked with separating gold and silver from their alloys. This hybrid formation, in which a Semitic root receives a Turkish morphological garment, is typical of the lands of the Ottoman Empire, of which Iraq formed a part from 1534 to 1917.
This book therefore proposes to situate the Khalastchi lineage within the long span of Jewish Babylonia, to restore the world of the metalworking trades that gave it its name, and to trace the paths of the Baghdadi diaspora which scattered, over the course of the last two centuries, the sons of this community from Bombay to London and from Calcutta to Jerusalem. We shall rigorously distinguish what belongs to the established archive, to probable deduction, and to transmitted memory, in order to remain faithful to the requirement of truth that must preside over any serious genealogy.
Before it was a family name, Baghdad was, for Judaism, the name of a center. The Jewish presence in Mesopotamia is one of the oldest and most continuous in all the diaspora: it reaches back to the Assyrian deportations (722 B.C.E.) and above all the Babylonian deportations (586 B.C.E.), when the exiles of Judah were settled on the banks of the Tigris and Euphrates. From this exile emerged, paradoxically, one of the most creative hearths of Jewish civilization. It was in Babylonia that the talmudic academies of Soura and Poumbedita were established, and that the Talmud Bavli — the Talmud of Babylon — took shape between the 3rd and 6th centuries, an intellectual monument that became the norm of Jewish practice throughout the world.
This precedence explains the singular prestige long enjoyed by the Jews of Iraq. In the Middle Ages, the institution of the Gaonat and that of the Exilarch (Rosh Galouta), prince of the exile reputed to descend from the house of David, made Baghdad the seat of a spiritual and quasi-political authority radiating across all the eastern communities. The Arab conquest in the 7th century, followed by the founding of Baghdad as the Abbasid capital in 762, integrated this population into Islamic civilization within the dhimmi framework — protected but subordinate. Baghdadi Judaism then developed a deeply Arabic-speaking culture, in which one prayed in Hebrew but thought, traded, and wrote most often in Judeo-Arabic.
This historical continuity forms the indispensable backdrop for any Baghdadi lineage. A name such as Khalastchi cannot be understood without this rootedness: it belongs to a community that did not experience itself as immigrant, but as indigenous — the direct heir of the exiles of Zion and the guardian of an unbroken tradition of more than two millennia. The models of communal organization that scholarship has illuminated for other Sephardic and Eastern lands — the articulation between rabbinic authority, merchant notability, and neighborhood solidarity — find in Baghdad one of their most accomplished expressions, and their echo will be found in the structures described for neighboring Mediterranean communities [Schwarzfuchs, 1997].
The onomastic analysis forms the heart of this volume, for the surname Khalastchi is, in the strictest sense, a speaking name. Three linguistic strata are superimposed within it. The first, Semitic, is the root kh-l-ṣ (خ ل ص), which in Arabic expresses the idea of purity, of disentanglement, of that which has been rendered clean of all impurity: from it derive the adjective khâliṣ ("pure, unalloyed") and the verb khallaṣa ("to purify, to refine"). The second stratum is Turkish: the suffix -çı / -ci, vocalized according to vowel harmony as -tchi, designates the artisan or merchant. The third is local Iraqi usage, which fused these elements into a transmissible surname.
The technical meaning that emerges from this is precise. In Ottoman and Persian societies, the refining of precious metals was a specialized and highly responsible profession: the refiner separated gold and silver from their ores, assayed their purity, and guaranteed by his verdict the value of ingots and coins. This trade demanded at once empirical chemical expertise, recognized integrity, and often an accreditation with the monetary authorities. In many cities of the Empire, these functions of goldsmithing, money-changing, and metal assaying were frequently entrusted to Jewish and Armenian craftsmen, communities for whom commercial trust and the familial transmission of expertise conferred a lasting advantage.
It is nonetheless necessary to mark here the epistemic limit: while the linguistic decomposition of the name is solidly established, the direct link between a Khalastchi ancestor identified by name and the actual practice of refining falls within the realm of probable deduction, not of archival record. Occupational surnames are known to acquire a degree of autonomy: they frequently crystallize at a given generation and long outlive the abandonment of the profession that gave rise to them. We therefore hold it as plausible, without holding it as demonstrated, that a smelter-refiner of Ottoman Bagdad gave his name to the lineage. This prudence aligns with the method of historians of the communities of the Mediterranean world, who are careful not to confuse the etymology of a name with the biography of those who bear it [Lévy, 1996].
The context in which the patronym crystallized is that of Ottoman Baghdad, integrated into the Empire in 1534 under Suleiman the Magnificent, briefly recaptured by the Persian Séfévides, then definitively Ottoman from 1638 onward. It was during these centuries that the Turco-Arabic morphology of family names became fixed, explaining the presence of a Turkish suffix -tchi on an Arabic root. The Jewish community of Baghdad experienced varying fortunes: commercial prosperity under certain governors, periodic persecutions under others — most notably under the rule of governor Dawud Pacha in the early nineteenth century, which prompted a first exodus of merchant families.
Baghdad's Jewish society was organized around a hierarchy dominated by the great merchant families — the Sassoon, the Ezra, the Kadoorie would become the most celebrated — yet rested upon a dense fabric of artisans: goldsmiths, moneychangers, dyers, weavers, and precisely those metalworkers and refiners whose memory the name Khalastchi preserves. The metalworking trade occupied a strategic place in the urban economy, at the intersection of luxury craftsmanship, monetary exchange, and credit. The probity required of the refiner made him a figure of trust, whose function touched upon the economic public order of the city.
In the nineteenth century, under the influence of the Tanzimat (Ottoman reforms) and the opening to international trade, the community underwent remarkable expansion. At the moment of the Ottoman Empire's dissolution and the passage of Iraq under British mandate (1920), Jews represented a considerable share of Baghdad's population — one of the highest proportions of any major city in the Near East — and dominated entire sectors of commerce, banking, and craftsmanship. It is within this flourishing community, on the eve of the upheavals of the twentieth century, that one must imagine the bearers of the name Khalastchi practicing their trade and transmitting their heritage. The models of gradual westernization and social recomposition observed elsewhere in the Judeo-Oriental world, from the Maghreb to the Levant, illuminate this Baghdad trajectory by analogy [Rubinstein-Cohen, 2011].
One of the most remarkable features of the Jews of Baghdad is that they spread out, from the turn of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, along the trade routes of the Indian Ocean and beyond. Fleeing the persecutions of Dawud Pacha or simply drawn by the opportunities of the expanding British Empire, entire families settled in Bombay, Calcutta, Rangoon, Singapore, Shanghai and Hong Kong, forming what historiography calls the diaspora of the Baghdadi Jews. These merchants, while integrating into the circuits of cotton, opium, jute and precious metals, fiercely preserved their identity, their rite and their Iraqi patronyms.
This dispersion explains why Baghdadi names such as Khalastchi may be encountered, in the contemporary era, at points far removed from the Tigris: in India, where the Baghdadi diaspora was particularly prosperous; in the United Kingdom, the terminus of many mercantile trajectories via Manchester and London; and, after 1948, in Israel. The family networks of this diaspora functioned as chains of trust, where shared membership in the Baghdadi community served as a commercial guarantee across the oceans — a mechanism that research has documented for other Sephardic and Eastern merchant diasporas [Lévy, 1996].
The trade of the refiner, precisely, lent itself well to this mobility: the skills of assaying and trading in precious metals were universally sought in colonial commercial centres, where the evaluation of gold and silver remained a central activity. It is therefore plausible — without the archive allowing it to be stated with certainty — that bearers of the name transposed their ancestral expertise into the trading posts of the Indian Ocean. This continuity of craft within the dispersion, when it can be established, illustrates the remarkable resilience of Eastern Jewish artisanal families, capable of carrying their capital of skill from one continent to another.
The twentieth century marked, for the Jewish community of Iraq, the brutal end of two and a half millennia of presence. The rise of nationalisms, the influence of ideologies imported during the interwar period, and the context of the Israeli-Arab conflict sealed the fate of a community that believed itself indissolubly Iraqi. The tragic turning point was the Farhoud of June 1941, a pogrom that bloodied Baghdad and claimed, in two days, nearly two hundred Jewish victims, marking the rupture of the bond of trust between the community and its surroundings.
The creation of the State of Israel in 1948 and the worsening of persecutions accelerated the exodus. Between 1950 and 1952, Operation Ezra and Nehemiah organized the mass transfer of virtually the entire Jewish population of Iraq to Israel — approximately 120,000 to 130,000 people — at the cost of the abandonment of their property and the loss of their nationality. Within the space of a few years, an age-old community virtually ceased to exist on Mesopotamian soil. Those who did not leave at that time faced an even harsher fate in the following decades, under the Baathist regime.
It is within this great movement that we must situate the contemporary destiny of the Khalastchi lineage, divided — like the entirety of the Baghdadi diaspora — between Israel, where the majority of Iraqi Jews found refuge, and the older poles of mercantile emigration, from the Indian subcontinent to England. The family name, henceforth detached from its land of origin, became a bearer of Memory: it no longer speaks of the address of a Baghdadi workshop, but of the origins of a family within the vast archipelago of the Iraqi Jewish diaspora. This transformation of a local trade name into a transnational identity marker is one of the enduring features of the History of contemporary Jewish migrations [Botbol, 2000].
At the close of this journey, the Khalastchi lineage reveals itself as a condensed expression of Iraqi Jewish history. Its name, first of all, holds the surest key to its secret: formed from the Arabic root for purity and the Turkish agent suffix, it designates the refiner, the purifier of metals, bearing thus the double imprint of Arab-Islamic civilization and the Ottoman administration that framed Jewish Babylonia for centuries. This occupational patronym places the family within the artisanal fabric of the great community of Baghdad, removed from the most celebrated merchant dynasties yet at the heart of the skills that made the city's wealth.
The history of this lineage, moreover, necessarily mirrors that of its community: a millennia-deep rootedness in Mesopotamia, prosperity under the Ottoman crescent, early dispersion along the routes of the Indian Ocean, and then the final exodus at the midpoint of the twentieth century. From Baghdad to Bombay, from London to Jerusalem, the name Khalastchi followed the paths of the most ancient of diasporas, transforming a workshop term into a sign of faithfulness to its origins.
It is important, finally, to restate the respective share of knowledge and conjecture. Established are the meaning of the name, the Baghdad and Ottoman context, and the great migratory narrative of the community. Probable is the connection between the lineage and the actual practice of refining. Transmitted, lastly, remains the intimate Memory of each family, which only documents — communal registers, contracts, emigration lists — could one day make more precise. This Great Book does not claim to close the inquiry, but to set its honest framework: that of a name which, by itself alone, tells of the tested purity of metal and the tested perseverance of a people.
