I bring you warm greetings from the island of St. Eustatius, affectionately known as Statia.
This morning, we gather to give renewed attention to a story long carried by history, but not always given the place it deserves.
“Had it not been for this infamous island, the American rebellion could not possibly have subsisted.” Those were the words of Admiral George Rodney in 1781. Evidence that St. Eustatius was not a footnote in the American story. It stood near the foundation of the fight that gave birth to the United States. An island so small that one can stand upon it and see the ocean in every direction, yet at one time, it stood at the very centre of the world.
St. Eustatius was a place where nations met, where merchants traded, and where ideas travelled. It was a place where people of different faiths and backgrounds found room to live, work, worship, and build.
It was not a perfect society. We must say that honestly. The freedoms practised on its shores did not extend equally to all who lived there. But
history is rarely simple, and truth does not become weaker when we tell it fully.
Today, at the Weitzman National Museum of American Jewish History, we gather to bring light to a story that history left too long in the shadows. The First Salute: An Untold Story of the American Revolution reminds us that liberty was not carried by one nation alone. It was sustained across oceans, by courage, by commerce, by conviction, and by the communities of St. Eustatius. The history of St. Eustatius is not separate from the history of the United States. It is written into it. That bond was marked by the First Salute, when the cannons at Fort Oranje fired a formal salute to the American flag, the first such salute given by any foreign authority. It was carried through trade, sustained by networks, and strengthened by human ties that still echo today. We do not stand here as observers of history. We stand as inheritors of it gathered to honour the courage, struggle, and resilience of those who came before us.
The Jewish community of St. Eustatius did not stand at the margins of history. They helped move it. Many were Sephardic Jews traders, merchants, financiers, and families of faith and enterprise. Through commerce, credit, and courage, and through wider Atlantic networks that included figures such as Haym Salomon, they helped connect the American colonies to vital support across France, the Netherlands, and the wider Atlantic world. Their work did not merely move goods. It helped sustain a revolution. But history does not move forward without sacrifice. In 1781, British forces under Admiral Rodney descended upon St. Eustatius. The island was seized. The Dalim Honen synagogue was destroyed. The Jewish community was targeted, plundered, and scattered. Families were torn from their homes and sent into exile.
Rodney came to punish an island that had supported the American cause. But history has a way of turning power against itself. His focus on St. Eustatius delayed British action elsewhere, and that delay became part of the wider road to Yorktown a turning point for George Washington and the cause of American independence.
And so, even in devastation, St. Eustatius remained part of history’s turning tide. The Jewish community paid a heavy price, but their legacy endured. Today, the synagogue grounds and cemeteries on St. Eustatius are preserved with reverence. Though no Jewish community remains on the island today, the last members having left in the 19th century, their presence has not disappeared. It lives in stone. It lives in memory. It lives in the land. Their story lives.
In a world marked by tension and division, this history offers a powerful reminder: liberty was not won alone. It was built across oceans, across cultures, across faiths, and across communities. It was built through connection, cooperation, courage, and sacrifice.
Today, 250 years later, we honour not just an island, but an idea: that even the smallest place can help shape the course of history; that even the quietest voices can echo across centuries; and that the bonds between peoples, nations, and communities can endure, inspire, and guide us still.
May the story of St. Eustatius, its Jewish community, and the First Salute continue beyond this room not as a forgotten chapter, but as a living call to remember with honesty, to connect with courage, and to carry freedom forward.
