The surname Sorani belongs to the vast repertoire of Jewish family names from the Italian peninsula, that corpus whose systematic census was undertaken by the scholar Samuele (Schemuel) Schaerf at the beginning of the twentieth century. His work, I cognomi degli ebrei d'Italia, con un'appendice su le famiglie nobili ebree d'Italia, was published by Samuele Schaerf and constitutes one of the reference catalogues for the study of Italian Jewish names. It is in this register that the name Sorani appears, the documentary anchor of the present notice.
Like most Jewish surnames in Italy, Sorani follows a pattern of formation in which the toponym, the nickname, and filiation are intertwined. The ending in -i — productive in Italian onomastics — most often indicates belonging, provenance, or descent: "those of Sora," "the people of such a place." It is nevertheless necessary to rigorously distinguish this Italian Jewish surname from other homonymous uses of the word Sorani, notably the Kurdish linguistic term. Indeed, the term "sorani," named after the emirate of Soran, designates a variety of Central Kurdish based on the dialect spoken in Slemani; this lexical coincidence has no established connection with the Italian Jewish lineage, and we set it aside from the outset to avoid any confusion.
This Great Book proposes to reconstruct, from the authoritative sources available, the arc of a family whose most striking trace unfolds in Jewish Rome of the twentieth century — around the figure of Settimio Sorani, one of the architects of the rescue of persecuted Jews under the occupation. Between the uncertainty of distant origins and the precision of contemporary archives, we shall proceed by always distinguishing what belongs to transmitted Memory and what belongs to established History.
The documentary foundation of this entry rests on the authority of Samuele Schaerf. His work, published in Florence in 1925 and subsequently reissued, aimed to draw up a reasoned inventory of the surnames borne by Jewish communities throughout the peninsula. The volume I cognomi degli ebrei d'Italia presents itself as a study of Italian Jewish names, accompanied by an appendix on the noble Jewish families of Italy, raising the question of who the Jews of Italy are, how many there are, and what they are called. The name Sorani takes its place among the hundreds of surnames recorded therein, which guarantees its rootedness in the actual fabric of Italian Jewish life rather than in mere conjecture.
The presence of a name in Schaerf's repertory does not, in itself, furnish a genealogy: it attests to the existence and circulation of a surname at a given date. This is precisely the virtue of such a catalogue — it establishes the fact of the name, without presuming upon its prehistory. For the Sorani family, this inscription constitutes the most reliable point of reference: it makes the surname an element of the Italian Jewish onomastic landscape attested in the first quarter of the twentieth century.
A methodological requirement must be underscored here. Lists of Italian Jewish names circulate abundantly, sometimes copied across forums and derivative compilations; one thus encounters alphabetical series in which numerous surnames beginning with the letter S appear. These reproductions, useful for gauging the diffusion of a name, are only as valuable as their primary source — the work of Schaerf and the scholarly studies that draw upon it. It is to this source that we attach, without dubious intermediary, the surname Sorani [Samuele Schaerf, I cognomi degli ebrei d'Italia].
The lesson of this first chapter is therefore modest but firm: the name Sorani is an attested Italian Jewish surname, catalogued and recognized as such by the reference lexicography. Everything else — geographical origin, ramifications, antiquity — belongs to degrees of decreasing probability that the following chapters will endeavor to weigh honestly.
Where does the name Sorani come from? The question, in the absence of any onomastic birth certificate, calls for cautious hypotheses rather than certainty. The most natural lead, on Italian soil, is toponymic: the surname would refer back to a place of origin, following the mechanism that has given rise to so many Italian Jewish names derived from cities — Modena, Volterra, Pisa, Ravenna, Recanati. In this logic, Sorani could designate a family originally from Sora, a town in southern Lazio (province of Frosinone), with the suffix -ani marking the gentilicial form: "those from Sora."
This reading remains an editorial conjecture: among the sources consulted, we do not have a document explicitly linking the Sorani lineage to the locality of Sora. The mechanism is plausible — it is even the most economical — but it belongs to the realm of the probable, not the established. Other derivations cannot be ruled out on principle: an Iberian toponym (the region of Soria, in Castile, has left traces in the onomastics of Sephardic Jews), or a formation derived from a Hellenized Hebrew personal name. Each of these leads would require documentary proof that the current state of sources does not provide.
It is important, at this point, to reiterate the distinction drawn in the introduction. The homonymy with the Kurdish term is purely coincidental: the name Soran is of Kurdish origin, derived from the Sorani dialectal region of Kurdistan, which covers parts of present-day Iraq and Iran, and is said to derive from the historical emirate of Soran. No historical, migratory, or linguistic connection unites this area with the Italian Jewish family; the graphic resemblance cannot serve as the basis for any filiation whatsoever. Stating this clearly is a matter of methodological probity: onomastics abounds in false cognates, and the historian's duty is to neutralize them.
Thus, this chapter belongs to the realm of Memory and conjecture more than to that of the archive. It proposes a genealogy of the name — not of the family — while acknowledging that the Italian toponymic path, and specifically the reference to Sora, remains the most reasonable hypothesis, without being able to hold it as proven [editorial hypothesis, grounded in the regularities of Italian Jewish onomastics].
It is within the Jewish community of Rome — the oldest in the Western diaspora, present without interruption since Antiquity — that the Sorani lineage takes on a fully documented consistency. The most reliable point of entry is the biography of Settimio Sorani, whose sources recall the family's roots. Settimio Sorani was born in Rome on December 9, 1899, into an observant Jewish family. This detail is not incidental: it situates the family within fidelity to tradition, at the heart of a community that had preserved its own rite, the minhag italqi, distinct from Ashkenaze and Séfarade practices.
The family's institutional rootedness is attested by the father's role. His father was a teacher and served on the Council of the Jewish Community of Rome. To belong to the Consiglio of so prestigious a community signals a position of responsibility and respectability: the Sorani family was not marginal, but integrated into the governing bodies of Roman Jewry. The teaching profession, moreover, inscribes the lineage within that Jewish tradition in which the transmission of knowledge serves as patrimony.
From this milieu — religious observance, communal service, a culture of learning — emerged the figures who would give the name Sorani its historical renown. The Jewish Rome of the late nineteenth and early twentieth century, barely emerging from the emancipation granted after 1870, saw its families engage in Italian civic life while maintaining their identity. The Soranis belong to this pivotal generation, caught between national integration and confessional fidelity — a balance that the 1930s and 1940s would brutally put to the test.
This chapter, grounded in converging biographical data, falls without reservation within established History: the Sorani family of Rome is documented in its milieu, its roles, and its values [Wikipedia, Settimio Sorani, based on biographical sources].
The lineage's most prominent figure is unquestionably Settimio Sorani, whose actions belong to the darkest and most heroic chapter of Italian Jewish history. He served as president of the Rome section of DELASEM and stood as a representative of what has been called the Jewish resistance. DELASEM — Delegazione per l'Assistenza degli Emigranti Ebrei — was the official organization providing assistance to Jewish emigrants in Italy; born within the paradoxical framework of the Fascist regime, it became, after the German occupation of 1943, a clandestine rescue network.
The sources specify the duration and nature of his commitment. Sorani led the Rome section of DELASEM from 1941 to 1943 and proved highly active in the operations of the Jewish resistance. When the organization was forced underground, Rome became a theater of survival. Regular contacts with Rome, Genoa, and central funding from Switzerland were brutally severed with the arrest and flight of Raffaele Cantoni to Switzerland; the office on Lungotevere Sanzio had to close, yet DELASEM continued to operate in Rome until liberation under the direction of Jewish delegates, among them Settimio Sorani. To lead such a structure under occupation was to risk deportation every day in order to organize relief, forged papers, hiding places, and escape routes.
The network within which he operated left a strong collective Memory, where religious figures, civil servants, and even athletes cross paths. Popular historiography likewise recalls DELASEM's role in saving thousands of lives [Il Fatto Quotidiano, 27 January 2019]. After the war, Settimio Sorani's commitment extended into the fields of emigration and Zionism. At the war's end, he assumed the leadership of Zionist organizations, and from 1948 to 1952 became Commissioner for Immigration at the Legation. From the clandestinity of rescue to the work of reconstruction and support for emigration toward the nascent State of Israel, his trajectory traces a coherent arc: that of a man wholly devoted to the relief of his people.
This chapter is among the most firmly established in the entire work. Settimio Sorani's actions are documented by converging encyclopedic and historiographical records; they secure for the name Sorani a place in the History of the Italian Jewish resistance [Wikipedia, Settimio Sorani; Wikipedia,
The name Sorani has crossed the threshold of mere onomastics to enter Italian historical Memory, owing to the work of Settimio Sorani himself, who was not only an actor but also a witness and memoirist of the DELASEM. His commitment has been preserved in writings and archives relating to the assistance provided to persecuted Jews in Italy. The trace a family leaves behind often depends on this double movement: to act, and then to record. In this sense, the Sorani of Rome illustrate the intersection between transmitted Memory — the narrative of rescue, recounted and commemorated — and the archive — the documents, dates, and verifiable functions.
This intersection deserves to be weighed with nuance. Collective Memory tends to heroize, to smooth out contours; the archive, for its part, recalls the complexity of a rescue conducted within an ambiguous framework, under a regime that had first tolerated, then hunted. The DELASEM itself was born of a compromise: authorized by fascist power which, for reasons blending financial calculation and the desire to limit the settlement of refugees, permitted its creation. Sorani's action within the Jewish resistance belongs to this History, in which institutional assistance transformed into clandestine resistance between 1941 and 1943. The greatness of the work is not diminished by this — on the contrary, it emerges more human and more precise.
As for the transmission of the surname beyond this figure, the authoritative sources consulted do not allow for the reconstruction of a detailed lineage, nor for the mapping of other branches with certainty. It would be imprudent to assert more than the archive permits. We shall therefore note that the name Sorani, attested by Schaerf and distinguished by Settimio Sorani, remains in all likelihood connected to the Roman Jewish community, its best-documented home [synthesis based on Schaerf and on the biographical notices of Settimio Sorani].
Thus the legacy of the name is not so much that of a genealogically extended lineage as that of a moral Memory: to bear the name Sorani is, in the imagination of Italian Jewry, to be associated with an episode in which Jews saved Jews at the risk of their lives.
The Great Book of the Sorani lineage closes on one certainty and several points of caution. The certainty is documentary: the surname Sorani is an attested Italian Jewish name, recorded in the reference catalogue of Samuele Schaerf, and carried into posterity by Settimio Sorani, head of the Roman branch of the DELASEM and a figure of Jewish resistance under the occupation. On this foundation, History stands firm.
The points of caution concern what lies upstream and downstream. Upstream, the origin of the name — most plausibly toponymic, perhaps linked to the locality of Sora in Latium — belongs to reasoned hypothesis rather than proven fact; the homonymy with the Kurdish term has been set aside as coincidental. Downstream, the reconstruction of a branching descent goes beyond what the sources permit, and we have been careful not to invent what the archive does not yield.
What remains is the essential: a modest name, rooted in the oldest Jewish community of the Western world, which became, for the span of one life, the name of a rescuer. It is this intersection of modest onomastics and great History that gives the Sorani lineage its dignity of Memory.
