In December 1942, a German officer sat at a table in the Tunisian coastal town of Mahdia and spoke with the self-confidence of a man convinced that none of those present had the ability or the courage to oppose him.
German troops had occupied Tunisia only a few weeks earlier. The atmosphere was tense, and the lives of the inhabitants changed rapidly. Jewish families were driven from their homes, men were forced into forced labor, property was confiscated, and the German occupation authorities introduced antisemitic repression against the community, which found itself under military rule virtually overnight.
During this meeting, the German officer began talking about a certain Jewish woman. He made no attempt to conceal his intentions. He spoke openly and revealed both where she was hiding and what he intended to do.
Sitting across from me at the table was a wealthy Tunisian named Khaled Abdul-Wahab.
Abdul-Wahab knew the family the officer was talking about. He fully understood the meaning of his words and knew that this was no ordinary conversation. The information he had just heard could determine the fate of those who were in immediate danger.
But he did not engage in a discussion. He did not accuse the officer. He did not reveal his thoughts, nor did he let his emotional reaction betray his true intentions.
Instead, he remained calm and continued with dinner.
According to later accounts of this event, he abused the trust the German officers placed in him. He listened attentively and gathered sufficient information to act.
Then he left.
That same night, Abdul-Wahab reached the Jewish family’s hiding place. He warned them that they were in immediate danger. He told them to take everything they could carry and leave the hiding place immediately.
There was no time for a carefully prepared escape. There was no opportunity to develop a complex plan or calmly consider the various options.
The group consisted of members of the Boukris and Ouzzan families, as well as other relatives and close friends. Sources differ regarding the exact number. Some speak of 24, others of 25, but the core of the story remains the same: Abdul-Wahab sheltered about two dozen Jews for a few months.
He transported them from Mahdia to his family’s farm near Tlelsa, about thirty kilometers away.
There he did something that, many years later, would become the most important part of his historical legacy.
He hid them.
Not for one night. Not for a weekend. Not for a few days, until peace of mind has returned.
For months.
Tunisia under Nazi occupation
To understand the significance of Khaled Abdul-Wahab’s decision, one must look at the situation in Tunisia at the end of 1942.
Tunisia was under French colonial rule. After the Allied landings in North Africa, German and Italian troops entered Tunisia in November 1942.
The German occupation lasted relatively short, but even during this limited period, the Jewish community experienced persecution, forced labor, confiscation of property, financial sanctions, and other forms of oppression.
According to information preserved in the Holocaust Memorial Museum of the United States, German troops reached Mahdia in 1942 and began expelling Jewish families from their homes. Documents from this period portray Abdul-Wahab as a Tunisian who saved about twenty Jews during the occupation by hiding them in his olive oil press and on his family’s farm.
The danger was therefore neither hypothetical nor far away. It was part of daily life.
According to historical sources from this period, more than 5,000 Tunisian Jews were sent to forced labor camps during the occupation. Other Tunisian Jews were deported from France to Nazi concentration and extermination camps.
For Jewish families in Tunisia, the arrival of German troops meant a sudden disruption of normal life. People who previously knew their neighbors and thrived in their local communities suddenly had to wonder who they could still trust.
A house can be confiscated. A man can be taken away for forced labor. A family can be torn apart. The normal security of civilian life can practically cease to exist from one day to the next.
Mahdia was a small coastal community, and that was an important factor. The people knew each other. Abdul-Wahab knew the Jewish families living in the town. At the same time, he was a prominent local figure, hailing from a wealthy and influential Tunisian family.
His social status ensured that German officers were willing to talk to him. They trusted him enough to invite him to their table and hold conversations with him, the meaning of which they clearly did not always understand.
They did not realize how he used the information he received from them.
This trust fund would become one of his most valuable assets.
The man behind the name
Khaled Abdul-Wahab was not just a random farmer who happened to come across a family in need. He came from a prominent Tunisian family and had a position, connections, and resources to which most of the local population did not have access.
Born in 1911, he was the son of historian and statesman Hassan Hosni Abdelwaheb. Historical sources describe him as an educated, wealthy, and well-traveled person. He spent some time in France and studied art and architecture in New York.
He spoke fluent German.
During the occupation, this skill proved to be of particular importance. Abdul-Wahab could speak directly with German officers, understand their statements, and move in social circles that remained inaccessible to many other inhabitants.
Moreover, as a member of an influential family, he had more freedom of movement in the area than the average resident.
This led to a remarkable contradiction. The Germans regarded him as a useful and respected Tunisian intermediary. They could therefore speak freely in his presence, unaware that the man at their table was listening attentively and could use the information obtained to help the people being persecuted by the occupiers.
That same social position also provided Abdul-Wahab with material resources. He owned land and a farm. He had workers and buildings to hide people in. He had food and sufficient influence to persuade others to follow his orders.
However, none of these advantages meant that the undertaking was simple.
Hiding Jewish families during the German occupation required secrecy, discipline, and the cooperation of many. Any careless move, casual conversation, or unexpected visit could put the entire group in danger.
The dinner that changed everything
The story of the rescue of Abdul-Wahab began with information.
According to testimonies from survivors, later collected by historian Robert Satloff, Abdul-Wahab learned that a German officer had chosen a Jewish woman as a target. The officer’s intentions were deeply disturbing.
The woman’s family was already in a particularly difficult situation. Her husband and other male relatives had been engaged in forced labor, leaving the women and children unprotected.
The woman was related to the Boukris family, who knew Abdul-Wahab.
The information reached him in one of the most dangerous places imaginable: at the table where German officers were sitting.
Abdul-Wahab luisterde.
He did not betray himself. He did not allow himself to be guided by indignation or fear, which could not provoke a reaction that would arouse suspicion. He clearly let the German officers believe in him and gave them the space to continue trusting him.
This detail is particularly important for understanding the whole story. Courage does not always have to take the form of an open confrontation. Sometimes it means remaining calm, precisely when your instinct would tell you to resist immediately.
The German officers may have thought they were speaking with someone who recognized their authority. Abdul-Wahab, however, knew that he was hearing information that could mean the difference between life and death for acquaintances.
After dinner, he started working.
At night, he went to the place where the family was hiding and delivered a simple message: they had to leave.
There was no time for discussion. There was no time to wonder whether the threat would actually materialize. There was also no time to wait for a safer solution to emerge.
The family had to trust him.
And she had confidence.
24 or 25 people?
The exact number of people that sheltered Abdul-Wahab is one of those details that vary by source.
The Holocaust Memorial Museum of the United States lists 24 Jews who were saved by Abdul-Wahab. His daughter, Faiza Abdul-Wahab, also named 24 people from various families who were hiding on the farm. Other sources speak of 25. This number appears in a 2010 Reuters report, among others, and in several later historical studies.
The discrepancy, however, changes nothing about the fundamental significance of the events. Abdul-Wahab took responsibility for hiding about two dozen people.
Among them were members of the Boukris family, their relatives, friends, and children.
This meant that the entire operation was not as simple as finding an empty room and closing the door. A group of this size needed a place to sleep. They needed food, water, and access to basic amenities. People needed care if necessary. At the same time, everyone had to be extremely careful, especially when German soldiers appeared nearby.
Children cry. They ask questions. They are afraid. They need food and drink, and in an emergency situation, they do not always understand why they suddenly have to be completely quiet.
Keeping the presence of such a large group secret required an organization that could no longer be completed after the first night.
The farm became a refuge for these people.
At the same time, for several months, it also functioned as a kind of prison. The people in hiding could not simply leave. They simply had no way to return home, nor did they know when that would be possible again.
They did not know whether the German occupation would end the next day or last much longer.
Their safety depended on secrecy, and secrecy depended on everyone involved in the company.
The farm that became a refuge
Abdul-Wahab brought the families to his family farm near Tlelsa, about thirty kilometers from Mahdia.
The site included farm buildings and an olive oil press. The buildings provided shelter for people.
However, this was not an underground bunker or a remote fort. It was a working farm.
Paradoxically, this made the hiding place both safer and more dangerous. The presence of people and the movement around the farm could look natural. Employees came and went, supplies were delivered, and guests could drop by. At the same time, every extra person increased the chance that the secret would be discovered accidentally.
It is possible that German soldiers were also present at the farm.
The hidden families therefore had to function amidst normal household activities without attracting attention.
According to reports of the rescue operation, the men were scattered across the terrain. This arrangement offered a degree of safety and reduced the risk that a single discovery would immediately reveal the presence of the entire group.
The Holocaust Memorial Museum of the United States describes the refugees as individuals who were held hidden for approximately four months in an olive press and on Abdul-Wahab’s farm.
In the context of the entire war, four months might seem like a relatively short period. But for those who were in hiding during the occupation, every day was different.
A knock on the door could inspire fear. An unknown vehicle could signify danger. Military uniforms posed a potential threat, and an unexpected visitor might require immediate cover and silence.
On the farm, ordinary sounds took on an extraordinary meaning.
Yellow stars and the dangerous game of appearances
The persecution of the Jewish population in Tunisia also included mandatory identification measures. Jews were forced to wear distinguishing symbols, including yellow stars.
This created an additional problem for those in hiding. If German soldiers arrived at the farm and saw a group of people without the required identification, it could immediately arouse suspicion.
According to reports of the rescue operation organized by Abdul-Wahab, Jewish families in hiding sometimes put on their stars just as German soldiers arrived at the farm.
At first glance, this strategy seems counterintuitive. Instead of pretending that there were no Jews at all, the impression was created that their presence was already known and no longer a secret.
The people remained calm. The soldiers saw the markings and then left. Later, the stars could be removed.
The details of individual encounters vary by report, but the core of the stories remains consistent: families survived on the farm for months, even though there were still German troops in Tunisia.
In the reality of an occupation, the perfect hiding place rarely existed. Survival often depended on the ability to adapt to the situation within moments.
Sometimes invisibility was the safest option. Other times, you had to pretend to be completely normal. And sometimes you had to show your opponent something, hoping that he would not understand its true meaning.
Sometimes the lives of many people depended on the judgment of one man who had only a few seconds to make a decision.
See more on the next page