The Dominican Republic is a popular winter tourist destination, but few realise its role as an escape haven of a different sort.

For thousands of Jews fleeing Nazi Germany in the 1940s, the north coast of the Dominican Republic offered refuge and welcome in return for hard work and enterprise.

While the history of a Jewish community in Sosua — a beach town in the Puerto Plata province — is trumpeted in Dominican Republic tourist pamphlets, finding its remnants can be elusive. The tour desk at a local hotel claimed that the Jewish museum and synagogue were closed.

However this correspondent was lucky enough to find a driver, Renaldo, who knew better. Renaldo also boasted about Sosuan chorizo and said it was the Jews who developed the pork sausages the town is famous for.

Sosua’s main source of income used to come from fishing and banana exports, but today it is a thriving resort known as a day trip destination for scuba diving and sailing excursions.

In fact, it owes its current prosperity to the several hundred Jewish settlers who arrived in this foreign tropical land as refugees from the Holocaust and founded the modern city in 1940.

In 1938, following Kristallnacht, US President Franklin Roosevelt convened an international conference in Evian-les Bains, France, to deal with the looming refugee crisis spawned by the rise of Nazi Germany.

Of the 32 nations in attendance, only the Dominican Republic offered to take in a significant number of Jewish refugees.

Ironically, it was the notorious dictator, Rafael Trujillo, who himself committed war crimes by ordering the massacre of 20,000 Haitians in 1937, who embraced the fleeing Jews.

In an effort to rehabilitate his reputation, “whiten his country” and develop the land, Trujillo offered up to 100,000 visas to those Jews willing to settle in the Dominican Republic.

Sadly, only 5,000 visas were issued and of those, an estimated 500 Jews ultimately settled, though up to 2,000 passed through. The Jews arrived in waves and were mostly from Germany, Austria, and Luxembourg. In 1947, the last group arrived from a Shanghai transit camp.

The difficulty in escaping occupied Europe coupled with limited safe transportation across submarine infested waters undoubtedly curtailed immigration.

Those who did make it to the Dominican Republic were given 82 acres of land, a mule, a horse and 10 cows as well as a $10,000 loan at 1 per cent interest.

This largesse was accomplished with the aid of the Joint Distribution Committee. The JDC formed the Dominican Republic Resettlement Association (Dorsa) and allocated funds for the purchase of the land in Sosua and the support of the settlement.

Dorsa signed a contract with Trujillo which guaranteed the Jewish refugees freedom of religion and freedom from molestation.

Article 1 of the contract reads: “The Republic hereby guarantees to the settlers and their descendants full opportunity to continue their lives and occupations free from molestation, discrimination or persecution, with full freedom of religion, civil, legal and economic rights, as well as other rights inherent to human beings.”

But the settlement was plagued with problems from the outset. The Jewish immigrants generally hailed from the cities and were overwhelmingly urban sophisticates.

These engineers, lawyers, educators, musicians, artists and white collar workers had no agricultural experience yet were expected to work the land on communal farms. Only 13 of the settlers had actual farming experience.

To ameliorate this situation, Dorsa brought in experts from kibbutzim to advise on agricultural projects. The first project, tomato plantations, failed miserably. After several false starts, the refugees found that the land was more suitable for pasture than fruit and vegetables. 
Eventually, they found success in raising cattle and livestock. Ultimately a thriving dairy and meat business was formed. Known as Productos Sosua, the Jewish population of Sosua, just as Renaldo told me, was the first to start a pork sausage factory in the Dominican Republic. 
Productos Sosua is still the leading producer of cured meats, salamis, sausages and cheeses in the Dominican Republic.  
After a rough start the colony successfully worked the land, paved the roads and established schools, medical clinics, post offices, stores and pharmacies. 
Nonetheless, life was hard and other obstacles loomed. The majority of the immigrants were able-bodied men since Dorsa preferentially recruited those deemed strong enough to work the land. This led to a gross imbalance of men and women. Consequently, extramarital affairs were common and intermarriage with native Dominicans ensued. Disputes within the settlement and between the increasingly self-governing colony and its benefactor, Dorsa ,were so frequent that several times the agency wanted to dissolve the experiment. 
Luckily, they did not and Sosua, though plagued with problems, provided a vital if tiny lifeline from 1940-1947 to people who would have otherwise perished. 
About 25 of the original Jewish families remain in the Dominican Republic but nearly all of them have intermarried. Today, descendants of Sosuan Jewry are found mainly in New York and Florida. Nearly all of the original settlers have died. Nonetheless, their descendants continue to exert an outsized influence on the town. 
Some of the hotels are owned by Sosuan Jews and a prestigious school, Colegio Luis Hess, founded by one of the original settlers, still operates. Its logo proudly states “founded by the Jewish community in 1940”. 
Remarkably, Sosua’s current mayor, Ilana Neumann, is a descendant of the union of a Holocaust refugee with a native Dominican.  
Other vestiges of Jewish Sosua are visible for those who look. The city seal boasts a Magen David and there is also a large Magen David in small municipal park facing the beach. 
At one end of town, a portion of a concrete wall displays Jewish symbols including a Torah scroll, dreidel, menorah and Magen David. 
The synagogue, built by the refugees in 1940, still stands and hosts high holiday, festival and occasional Shabbat services. 
Adjacent to the synagogue is a small museum which details the history of the community. In 2015, on the occasion of the 75th anniversary of the arrival of the Jews in Sosua, a commemoration ceremony was held at the synagogue and a plaque of appreciation was erected. This ceremony was attended by Dominican officials, Sosuan Jewish descendants and the Israeli ambassador. The museum, adjacent to the grounds of the Casa Marina Resort, is accessible to the public daily from Monday- Friday from 9-1 and 2-4 pm, though sometimes you have to find someone to open the doors for you.

On a recent visit, this writer found the Jewish cemetery on the outskirts of the El Batey section of the town. A tattered Israeli flag hinted at its presence from the road. The gate was unlocked but the cemetery was well cared for and it was evident that there had been recent visitors.

Sosua is an oddity of history with a diminishing but proud Jewish presence. It provided a vital link in the chain of survival of a subset of Holocaust refugees.

Redemption can come from many sources, and one population’s tyrant can be another’s saviour. Perhaps, if its history as a haven for Holocaust victims becomes better known, tourism may yet revitalise the dwindling Jewish presence. If you find yourself in the Dominican Republic, visit Sosua, a haven of last resort for those fleeing Nazi Germany — and a pleasant beach town with a European vibe. 

Debbie Josefson is a physician and photojournalist