Jewish presence in Antwerp (1) The choice of a reporting on “a Jewish presence”, let it be in Antwerp (Belgium) or elsewhere, can seem, in the present politically correct stained by “antisemitic / antizionist” feelings as well as under the pressure of the current events, a very hazardous undertaking. Having said that and having not much to loose on the politically correct’s side, here are, along with my photographs, some thoughts on my first encounter with this community. The Jewish community in Antwerp is made of about 20.000 people. It’s one the last shtetls in the world. Most of its members live in the area on the south-west of the Central train station. 80% of this community’s actif population work in the diamond industry. This industry plays a very important role in the city’s economy. Regarding religion, there is a minority of modern-Orthodox and a majority of ultra-Orthodox. It’s chiefly that majority that I encounter just after leaving the outskirts of the train station. What strikes me when strolling about those streets, it’s the people. They are different indeed. Their difference seems to me even more obvious for it contrasts (for the average west-european that I am) with the normality of the surrounding. There isn’t, obviously, any will on the part of this community to transform, to change the look, to impose a particular “color” to the rather greyish place where they live. The difference seems to concentrate on its members’ inner self, in a certain consciousness to be one-self, filled up with a sort of assurance in the inalienable right to exist the way they are. Indeed, they have external distinctive marks : generous beard, black coat and black hat for the men - dark dress and headscarf on hair for the women - traditional hairstyle and kippa for the boys - long and sobre skirt probably to hot for the girls. But in spite of those differences which are only external ones, I would summarize this first experience as an encounter with a certain particularism, lived with no false timidity nor exaggerated self withdrawal, and which releases a non-oppressive atmosphere for “the other”. This blending of particularism and non-oppressive atmosphere favours, within “the other” (myself, in this case), the liberty and the desire to also be one-self as well as to be non-oppressive to “the other” (them, in this case). I can assure you that the contrast, between this atmosphere that I was leaving and the one prevailing a few hundreds metres away, in the commercial street which connects the train station to the town’s center, is phenomenal. In spite of the thousand and one colors in vogue, the tremendous variety of styles and the apparent total (totalitarian ?) freedom in the ways of being which were saturating that street, I couldn’t feel the same liberty to be myself, not speaking of the possibility of giving this liberty to “the other” so much he didn’t seem prone to welcome my gift. Well, I suppose I was too tired after walking so much to photograph… I quickly catched a train back home and made a stop at my usual bookstore in other to see if, at the bottom of the shelf dedicated to religious matters, there would be, by chance, a book on Jewish thought…