Ben Sultan

  

BEN SULTAN

I have been asked in the past how my name, Bentata, came about. I have to admit it is not my original surname.

I was told our “family legend” by an old Rabbi of Gibraltar, the venerable Rabbi Moses Benzimra. He taught my mother and many years later, was my Rabbi as well.

Apparently, there was a Berber Tribe in the mountains of Morocco and the Sultan of that tribe had several wives, one of whom was a Jewish woman. It seems she was pleasing to Sultan who gave her several sons, eight of them, I believe they were. This Jewish wife whose name is not known, named her sons after characters in the Torah (thre Jewish Bible or Old Testament). Since she was Jewish, by Jewish law the religious identity flows from the woman not from the man, her sons were Jews too. The reason is pretty obvious. You can always tell who the mother of a child is; who the father is maybe a different matter.

 In those days surnames were not as we know them today. People were known as being son of so-and-so, or daughter of so-and-so. This intrepid lady called her sons: Moshe (Moses) ibn Sultan ....as in 'son of the Sultan'; Abraham ibn  Sultan, Isaac ibn Sultan and so on.

The old Sultan died and the firstborn son of his first wife ascended the throne. He looked around and saw that eight of his half-brothers were not just Jews, but Jews named with Jewish names and carrying the surname "son of the Sultan"! This was too much for the new young Sultan to stomach.
On the night of the coronation of the new Sultan, these eight brothers decided it was best to run away before their heads were separated  from the bodies.

As the legend goes, they crossed the Straits of Gibraltar into Iberia which was being liberated from the Moors around that time. There they dropped the surname of ibn Sultan and changed it to 'de Reyes', which would translate as 'of Kings' or even 'Kingson' in English, a fair exchange, one would say.

Apparently one of these sons run deeper into the desert instead of across the Straits. With the soldiers in hot pursuit he reached a tribe of Bedouins camped in an oasis. He hid inside the tent on old Bedouin woman. When the soldiers searched and found him there, they asked

"Who is this?"

And she replied: "ibn Tata!" (the son of Tata) ...her name was Tata, in other words,  'my son'.

The soldiers moved on and this man, in gratitude, took on Ben-Tata as his surname from that moment on.

Okay let's face it this is a sweet and different Legend which makes for a nice conversation. But no one really took it very seriously not even ourselves.

In 1956 Dad, Mum and I went to London on holiday where we stayed with Dad's sister Maruchi and her husband Uncle Pepe Brew and their children Annabella, Sandra and Lynn. They lived in Arlington Gardens in Ilford and had TV ! ! !  
We drove over in a blue and white Hillman California, registration number G10505. Only Dad knew how to drive, though he often sat me on his lap and gave me the wheel …much to Mum’s trepidation.  What ten-year-old would feel any happier than doing that?
The car did not have a radio. I do not think cars had radios at that time, other than the more expensive ones. Instead, we had a transistor radio which Mum would place next to the open window, telescopic antenna out to the wind,  to try and catch a station with music.
When the radio is not working well, when the antenna could not find any good airwaves, we sang.  
Yes, the three of us, mile after mile. We sang songs in English and in Spanish, after all we are Yanitos. I still remember especially the oldies that they would love to sing such as "When they begin the beguine” and Antonio Machin's "Angelitos Negros" and many more.
I can't remember how long it took to drive to London but I do remember I was a very fussy eater. Between keeping kosher and a 10-year-old who had been brought up with the greatest of home cuisines, I remember all I wanted was scrambled eggs with tomatoes and for dessert, peaches in syrup. I had so much of that that I have never eaten those sickly peaches ever again.

Anyway, back to the legend....

We had to also drive up to Manchester. Dad had to see a factory there, and Mum, being the curious woman she was, decided to look through the telephone book to see if there were any Bentatas in Manchester. Lo and behold there were two families Bentata! They were two brothers and their families, Jack and Victor. We phoned them and they were delighted and invited us home since they too were the only Bentatas north of London.

Over a delightful meal, in which I was bored out of my wits as the only child, they told us the legend of their family name as they knew it in England.

It was the same Legend that we had been told by Rabbi Moses all those years ago!
Our historic family name then is really: ibn Sultan, de Reyes, Bentata

 

I always knew I had Royal Blood in

me from one side of the blanket…. or the other!