ALEPPO, Syria — Decades after nearly all Syrian Jews left the country, Henry Hamra of Brooklyn stands at the metal door of a small Aleppo synagogue holding keys that could unlock a partial return of property to Jewish owners.
Hamra, now 48, was 15 when his family left Damascus in the early 1990s after the Assad regime lifted a travel ban that had kept many Syrian Jews from leaving. Many who departed could not sell homes; some residences were occupied by others while the government assumed control of synagogues and schools.
In December, Syrian authorities licensed a Jewish heritage foundation led by Hamra, transferring custody of Jewish religious sites from the state to the organization. The foundation will also help restore private property appropriated when the community emigrated.
“What we’re trying to do is come see the properties, come see the synagogues and see what’s the condition,” Hamra says. “I’m calling on all the people who have properties to come and we’ll help them find them and give them back to them.”
A push over the past year largely driven by Syrian-American activist Mouaz Moustafa helped bring Hamra back to Syria and secure those permissions. Hamra and his father, Yusuf Hamra — the last rabbi to leave Syria — visited last year, and Syrian officials pledged assistance in restoring property to Jewish owners. Yusuf Hamra’s departure marked the end of regular Jewish religious life in Syria; today only about six Jews, all elderly, are known to remain in the country, Hamra says.
Aleppo once hosted one of Syria’s largest Jewish communities, with roots stretching back at least 2,000 years. Before Israel’s founding in 1948, the country had an estimated 30,000 Jews. That long presence is visible in Aleppo’s Central Synagogue, also called al-Bandara, a large, centuries-old complex with stone arches, Roman columns, marble floors and a decorative second-floor women’s section. For centuries the synagogue was also associated with the Aleppo Codex, a roughly 1,000-year-old manuscript of the Hebrew Bible, portions of which were smuggled to Israel in the 1950s.
On the visit, Hamra unlocked a small synagogue with dusty velvet curtains and peered into an adjacent school where desks and piled furniture showed how worship and education had been abandoned. The neighborhood bears deep scars from Syria’s 14-year civil war. (The report notes the conflict ended when opposition fighters toppled President Bashar al-Assad in December 2024.)
Neighbors expressed hope. “They were our friends,” said Abu Alaa al-Muhandis, 75, a nearby shop owner. “We hope they will come back, they will bring life back to the city.” Maissa Kabbani, founder of a Syrian justice organization, recalled how churches, synagogues and mosques once stood together in neighborhoods where people lived as neighbors.
Syrian President Ahmed al-Sharaa, a onetime al-Qaida commander who renounced the group’s ideology, has emphasized protections for minorities in the new Syria. The government framed handing over Jewish religious properties as a sign that minorities are welcome. The transfer and public reassurance have drawn both interest and skepticism: some Syrian-American Jews worry Sharaa and his government cannot be trusted to safeguard minorities.
Hamra and U.S.-based advocates, working with Moustafa’s Syrian Emergency Task Force, also helped press Washington to lift sanctions; the U.S. removed the last trade sanctions in December. That advocacy has been controversial among some Syrian-American Jews who oppose engagement with the new Syrian leadership.
Hamra acknowledges practical obstacles to any immediate return: electricity, running water and security remain inconsistent in places like Aleppo. During the delegation’s visits, they were accompanied by young Syrian government fighters, some of whom asked to take selfies with Hamra.
Hamra brought his 21-year-old son, Joseph, on the trip. The younger Hamra said visiting felt exhilarating. “You see my face? I’ve never had this face in my life. It’s crazy,” he said. He imagines younger Syrian Jews coming to visit their roots, see where grandparents lived and are buried, and perhaps consider building anew: “They would 100% think in the back of their heads, ‘Wow imagine building something here.’”
For now, Hamra’s foundation is documenting sites and properties, assessing conditions and working with authorities to restore religious buildings and help recover private property for Jewish owners who can be located. The effort represents both a practical reclaiming of assets and a symbolic gesture toward reconnecting a dispersed community with its ancestral places.