Israeli flags hang on the Beit Rachel and Beit Leah buildings in Hebron. Photo: Yishai Fleisher

My first visit to Israel, nearly fifty years ago, was sponsored by the American Jewish Committee for “disaffected Jewish academics.” I was eminently qualified. Although I had been fascinated by television coverage of the joyous return of Israeli soldiers to the Western Wall in 1967, climaxing their victory in the Six-Day War, I was too preoccupied with my newborn daughter and class preparation for my students to focus on Israel. But a free trip was irresistible.

Among our destinations was Hebron, about which I knew nothing. Passing the towering Machpelah burial site of the Biblical patriarchs and matriarchs, our guide recounted how Jewish history in the Land of Israel originated in Hebron. So began my fascinating journey of discovery in this ancient holy city.

Years later, illuminating conversations with leaders of the Hebron Jewish community, restored after the Six-Day War, taught me about Hebron’s unique place in Jewish history. Although the Muslim conquest in 640 CE had closed the sacred Machpelah shrine to Jews, a tiny Jewish community endured for centuries, until its destruction by Arabs during the murderous 1929 riots. I was riveted by the synthesis of Biblical history, Zionist nationalism and religious Judaism that guided their return.

The restoration of Jewish life in the Land of Israel fascinated me. As a Fulbright professor at Tel Aviv University, commuting one day weekly from Jerusalem, I had ample opportunity for exploration. In Jerusalem, as in Hebron, Arabs blocked Jews from access to their holiest ancient site. Visitors to the Temple Mount, where the First and Second Temples were once located, were permitted but Jewish prayer was prohibited.

My favorite Old City observation places were the Western Wall and the adjacent cavern. I watched with fascination as elderly bearded men leaned against the wall in prayer and young Haredi boys, guided by their rabbis, danced in circles and davened enthusiastically. Here, as in Hebron, I began my journey from American assimilation to Jewish identification.

Over time, as I explored the Muslim and Christian Quarters, I discovered two fascinating antiquities shops. Their owners, Mahmoud and Ibrahim, showed me their treasures (some of which are now in my study) and became my best teachers of ancient Israelite history. Mahmoud was my best Jerusalem guide, memorably taking me beneath the Temple Mount — now a Muslim holy site — and to hidden historic places that I never would have discovered on my own.

Ibrahim took me to Hebron, where I entered Machpelah for the first time — after the Israeli soldier posted at the entrance checked my passport, looking quizzically at a Jew with an Arab guide. We also visited Nablus (Biblical Shechem) where my presence as a solitary Jew in an Arab city made me uneasy.

My other magnet in Jerusalem, to my surprise, was the ultra-Orthodox neighborhood of Mea Shearim. I could not have been more of an outsider, but when I crossed Rehov Averbach, I felt a historic family connection. During an exploratory visit I passed a shop with nothing displayed in its empty windows. But the door was open and I ventured inside. There I met Dovid, seated behind a table surrounded by shelves of cartons.

He pointed to a chair, and we began a conversation that would spread over twenty years. Reaching for a carton, he showed me fascinating old copper pieces: pitchers, trays, plates, bowls, Shabbat candle holders and wine cups (some of which now adorn my own home). His life story as an immigrant from Iraq who became a fighter (badly wounded) in Israel’s Independence war was riveting. Once again, as in Hebron, I learned Jewish history from visits to ancient sites and conversations with participants in the rebirth of Jewish statehood.

So it was that Hebron, the Jewish Quarter in the Old City of Jerusalem and Mea Shearim became my spiritual homes away from home. As a historian, I was fascinated to discover the Jewish past they revealed. My explorations of these ancient holy sites, and my encounters with their residents, enabled me — in more than name — to finally become a Jew.

Jerold S. Auerbach is the author of twelve books, including Hebron Jews: Memory and Conflict in the Land of Israel (2009)