Raffaele & Marina Scarpa Campos
Raffaele and Marina Scarpa Campos speak with clarity and concern about the present and future of Jewish life in Venice, situating their personal histories within a broader reflection on community, memory, and loss. For them, Venice has essentially one Jewish community. While Chabad is present, they describe it as a guest rather than an integrated part of Venetian Jewish life. This distinction reflects a uniquely Italian structure of Jewish communities, shaped in 1929 when Mussolini formalized communities through agreements with the Catholic Church, requiring Jews to register officially. Over time, as smaller communities disappeared, many were absorbed into larger ones, and even synagogue interiors—pews, wooden beams, sacred furnishings—were transferred to Israel. In Jerusalem, for example, the Conegliano synagogue continues to function with its original Venetian interior.
Their own family story is marked by displacement and survival. Raffaele’s father was from Split, then Italian territory, and was forced to flee. Like many others, his parents escaped to Switzerland during the war—some found refuge, others did not. These wartime experiences, they explain, left the “heaviest burden” on Venetian Jews, shaping a collective memory that still resonates.
Today, that memory contrasts sharply with the reality of the ghetto. “The ghetto is no longer alive,” they repeat, emphasizing that it has become largely a tourist space. Few Jews live there now; apartments have been sold to Venetians or visitors, and Jewish families are scattered across cities and countries. Children and grandchildren live in Jerusalem, Paris, Berlin, and London. They remain registered in Venice “out of affection,” but daily life has moved elsewhere.
Raffaele and Marina describe a fragile future: few births, many mixed marriages, and small numbers of children in Jewish education, often commuting from outside Venice. Even gathering a minyan—ten adult men required for public prayer—is a challenge, sometimes relying on students or visitors. Yet they continue to show commitment. Raffaele is currently creating a book of wartime stories for Italian children, ensuring that memory does not disappear, even as the community itself grows quieter.
Reflecting on the transformation of the Venetian Ghetto from a lived neighborhood into a symbolic space, Raffaele and Marina emphasize the disappearance of everyday Jewish life.
“The ghetto is no longer alive. It is no longer alive. It is no longer alive. It is no longer alive. It is no longer alive.”
They explain how Italian Jewish communities were shaped by state policy and how the disappearance of smaller communities led to the physical relocation of synagogues to Israel.
“Now communities have disappeared, and many have been regrouped. And the synagogues have been shipped to Israel… in Jerusalem there is the Conegliano synagogue, which is still functioning.”
Speaking about the future of Jewish life in Venice, they describe the demographic reality facing the community and the uncertainty that lies ahead.
“The future is nebulous for the Venice community.”