Two significant stories surround the mass movement of refugees before and after Israel’s declaration of statehood in 1948. 
 The first you know about. 
 That’s the one concerning the Palestinian Arabs who lived in the British mandate that became Israel. 
 Equally compelling and generally left out of historical accounts is the second narrative, the one that concerns the forced migration of Jewish refugees from their homes throughout the Middle East during this same period and beyond.  Until recently, this topic has received very little attention. 
 This article will focus on that “Silent Exodus” as seen through the eyes of Helene (In French, it is pronounced Elle-en’) Avigdor Weber, an Egyptian Jew who lived through this period and now resides in Omaha. 
 But first, some historical notes on the Palestinians who claim that Israel forced them out of their homes in 1948.  As everything in the Middle East, this issue is far more complex than it appears on the surface. 
   For example, in his essay on “The Palestinian Refugees,” scholar-author Mitchell Bard contradicts the Arab explanation: “The Palestinians left their home in 1947-48 for a variety of reasons.”  The rich left early, anticipating the war, while others left, he explained, “[to] get out of the way of advancing armies.”  Still, “a handful were expelled, but most simply fled to avoid being caught in the cross-fire of battle.” 
   By UN estimates, these original 462,000 refugees (650,000 by Israel numbers; one million people, using Arab figures) demand the right to return to their old homes.  This Right of Return has become the unresolved obstacle in all the peace proposals, even after nearly six decades. 
   The underlying assumption for all the Arabs who fled was that the seven invading Arab armies would quickly crush the nascent Jewish state and then the Arabs could return to their homes and enjoy the spoils of war. 
 But that didn’t happen.  Instead, the surviving Israelis turned swampland and deserts into farmland and cities.  In contrast, the Palestinian refugees, many of whom traveled only a few miles from their original homes, became political pawns of the other Arab nations: They were not absorbed as refugees by any of their brethren.  Their standard of living sharply declined. Their number has now swollen to just over 4.1 million, Dr. Bard wrote, with about one-third still living in UN refugee camps set up in 1948.
Helene’s escape
 On Aug. 8, 1962, Helene Avigdor was 13 years old. She lived with her parents, an older sister and a younger brother in Cairo, Egypt. “I came home that day and I saw the luggage by the door,” she explained. “My father kept us in the dark, and until that moment, I didn’t know we were leaving Egypt.”
 Speaking to his family in French, their primary language, Maurice Avigdor cautioned his children, “Don’t tell anyone we are going!”
 Since the founding of Israel, pressure mounted on Jews through the Middle East. The Avigdors, a Sephardic family, experienced a great deal of prejudice, Helene explained, “My father told me that on a number of occasions when the doorman of their four-story apartment saw him coming, he would turn off the power in the lobby, forcing my dad to walk up the four flights.”
 That was not the only discrimination he faced. Her father, who spoke seven languages and had a good job working for an Italian import/export company, stated he had been stopped often on the street. There had been a number of times when, without cause, he was stopped, questioned by authorities, and occasionally arrested. He knew of others that were roughed up.
 And those same kinds of circumstances were occurring all across the Middle East. Jews were made to feel unwelcome. Jewish emigrants by the hundreds of thousands left their homes.
 “Most Egyptians Jews we knew left the country in 1948,” Helene continued. “Even more got out in 1956 after the Suez war. (This week-long war began after Egyptian President Nasser took control of the Suez Canal, which was owned by British and French companies. Israel joined Great Britain and France in a series of military battles to regain ownership of the canal.)
 “I remember seeing Nasser that year -- in a big parade at the start of the Suez war. After the conflict, he forced all the French teachers out of the country. That affected me because I attended Lycée Français, a French private school,” Helene lamented. “My father had to get us a tutor to teach us how to read and write in Arabic.”
 Finally, Maurice and Rachel Avigdor decided it was time to go. “When we left, we took only what we could fit in a suitcase,” Helene commented.
Difficult Trip to America
 The trip would not be an easy one for the family. Helene explained that she left a good life behind. “We had a nice middle class existence and lived a good life, with a nice apartment. I attended private schools. Our family lived across the street from Temple Ismailia on 40 Adly Pacha St., where the women worshipped upstairs and the men downstairs. My father was religious.”
 Nevertheless, the trip to America offered some excitement because when Helene and her brother heard they were going to America, Helene got excited. “I thought we were going to the land of ‘Cowboys and Indians!’” They would however, be going alone. Unlike all the other members of their extended family, who departed Egypt years earlier and chose the newly formed Jewish state, the Avigdors decided on America.
 Childish fantasies aside, the five Avigdors were traveling without a passport. In addition, the documents they did carry described the Egyptian family as “Stateless,” and as “Israelites.” They were aided by HIAS, the Hebrew Immigration Aid Society, which helped them navigate their way through the travel process.
 The family drove two hours north to Alexandria. Shortly thereafter, they departed from the ancient Egyptian capital aboard a ship bound for Marseilles, France. Joined by her father’s brother, the six of them shared one cabin.
 “We arrived in Marseilles a week earlier than expected and HIAS was not ready for us. In fact, they wanted us to go back,” Helene explained. “But my father was insistent and told them, if we had to, we would all sleep on the floor.” The family was allowed to stay.
 The next stop on their circuitous route to America was Paris where they had to stay for nine months. That was how long it took them to acquire the papers they needed to go to Wilmington, Delaware, where cousins would sponsor them. Throughout the process, HIAS helped them. Helene proudly pointed out that “My father paid them back for all the money they provided him, although it was not a requirement.”
Thriving in America
 At their arrival in America on April 18, 1963, Helene was 13, her mother, 45 and her father, 55. While Helene was multi-lingual, at the time speaking Arabic, French (her first language), Spanish, and some Hebrew, she and her family spoke no English. 
   Undaunted, they accepted the challenges ahead and divided up the tasks. They all had to learn the language, her mom would take care of the kids and her dad had to find a job. Like their forebears, they all succeeded.  They found work, and in May 1969 they all became citizens. It was a very proud moment for Helene, who stayed in Delaware until 1972. At that time she joined the now-defunct Eastern Airlines as a flight attendant, a job she held for about 18 years.
  Today she enjoys life in Omaha with her second husband, Clinton, a civil engineer. She has no children and stays in touch with her brother and sister. She keeps herself busy with friends and some part-time work for Lancôme cosmetics at Younkers.
 Her parents are now gone. While her father is buried in Delaware, her mother was laid to rest in Omaha’s Golden Hills Cemetery.
Coming Out
 Recently, after seeing French filmmaker Pierre Rehov’s 2004 movie Silent Exodus, which detailed the expulsion of more than one million Jews living throughout the Arab Middle East during and after the time Israel became a state, Helene became aware that she was a part of that history. “The story fascinated me. With all the attention being focused on the plight of the Palestinians, I wanted to let people know that the Jewish people also faced great suffering and many obstacles, too,” Helene explained.
 Indeed, the award-winning film had a great impact when it was shown in New York City in 2005. According to the FrontPageMagazine.com film reviewer Michael Margolies, the film represents riveting accounts of Jews living under “dhimmitude,” the “Muslim-sanctioned, permanent second-class citizenship for non-Muslims in Muslim countries. All experienced daily humiliations which included always holding one’s tongue out of justifiable fear of physical attack…”
 The reason little was heard from the Jews victimized by this anti-Arab sentiment is that for the most part, Israel absorbed a very high percentage of the Jewish refugees. That is in direct contrast to the Arab states which have used the Palestinian refugees to fan the flames of anti-Semitism and anti-Zionism.
Reflections
 On April 2, Helene will turn 58. She has visited her family in Israel. “I really appreciate that my father came to America. We have had a better life. My father did much better than my other relatives who had and still have a very hard life in Israel. Only my uncle did well there.
 On one of those Israel visits, she thought back to when she lived in Cairo, in an apartment across from the synagogue and was not allowed to wear a Star of David or anything that identified her as a Jew.
 According to reports, there are only about l00 Jews left in Egypt. During the trip, Helene had a chance to visit her former homeland again, but then changed her mind. “I felt no allegiance, and I didn’t feel like I wanted to go back. I just didn’t want to give them one cent of my money,” she concluded.