Near the Jaffa gate, in Jerusalem, where the Christian quarter begins, you can find the oldest tattoo business in the world.
Razzouk’s roots date back to 1300, in Egypt, and is still in the hands of the same Coptic Orthodox family whose ancestors came on pilgrimage to the Holy City, centuries ago.
These days, the family’s patriarch is Anton Razzouk. At 84, Anton no longer tattoos, but the family art continues with his son Wassim and his nephew Chris. Anton also finds it difficult to walk to the shop, so I meet him in his car, a few minutes away, where he tells me about his family’s history.
“We are Copts, originally from Egypt, and our ancestors who first came to Palestine came on pilgrimage. At that time, one would come for a long time, perhaps even a year, so they had to work while they were here. My forefathers knew how to make tattoos,” he tells me, in reference to the longstanding tradition that Copts have of tattooing small crosses on their wrists.
Razzouk is — and has been for centuries — the preferred destination for pilgrims who want a permanent reminder of their trip to Jerusalem.
The shop still employs an ancient technique for tattooing: using carved wooden blocks to stamp an image on the body, and as a stencil for the needlework.
The blocks are on display in the shop, so that pilgrims or tourists can choose which design they want, from a simple Jerusalem cross, to a more ornate depiction of the crucifixion, or of the Virgin Mary.
Bu in other respects — and for other tattoos — the shop has kept up with the times. Artists use modern techniques and inks, very different from what Anton remembers his father using.
“[The ink] was only black or bluish-black, and that came out from a lamp which burned holy oil. The soot from the wick was collected every two or three weeks, with a small knife, and put aside until he had enough to make the ink, so it was very rare.”
“He used to do tattoos with a small stick, like a pen, around which there were some needles that he tied together. He’d dip it in the ink, and then pierce the skin, slowly but patiently producing a beautiful certificate of pilgrimage.”
Still, Anton stresses, the tattoos they make at Razzouk are much more than simple certificates of pilgrimage.
They are, he insists, “keys to heaven.”
He knows the term might confuse some people. But Anton says it’s exactly what he hopes the work will be.
“What do I mean by a key to heaven? When you have a Christian tattoo, let's say a Jerusalem cross or a Coptic cross on your palm or on your wrist, this can be a sign that reminds you not to sin. Suppose you have an enemy and you want to slap him, or somebody disturbs your peace, and you want to hit him, or defend yourself. Seeing your Cross is a reminder of the commandments.”
Anton was born in 1940. He was only eight years old when Israel declared its independence.
At the time a coalition of Arab forces came to Jerusalem to defend the city. Among those troops were many Arab Christians from the neighboring countries of Jordan, Iraq and Syria.
One Iraqi soldier — remembered as George — discovered Razzouk and brought Christian comrades to get tattoos, marking their stay in Jerusalem.
Anton — then eight years old but already helping his father with his work — saw this as an opportunity to get inked for the first time.
“My father said ‘no way,’ that he didn’t want me to get hurt, because at the time it was very painful, not like today. But I said that it would be an eternal reminder of him, and of the history of the Razzouk family. He consented, and I still have the cross that he made for me, dated 1948. Years later, when my son Wassim started tattooing, I got him to put another date underneath, and later still, my grandson did yet another one.” The dates are a testimony to the continuity of the Razzouk family legacy.
Like Jerusalem itself, Razzouk has gone through turbulent times.
In recent decades, Christians have left the city in droves, but Anton has no intention of going anywhere. “
Whatever happens in the area, I, personally, am against leaving my city. I have visited Europe, I have visited Australia, I have been all over, but nothing can replace Jerusalem. Jerusalem is in my heart and in my mind. It's my love.”
I say goodbye to Anton, and walk back to Razzouk, where a burly Western man is getting a Jerusalem cross tattooed by Chris, Anton’s nephew.
With tourism practically dead in the Holy City since October 7, 2023, when Hamas took hundreds of hostages and Israel responded with an all-out invasion of Gaza, I ask how the shop has survived.
“We have been working for hundreds of years with tourists and pilgrims, mostly pilgrims, of course,” Chris tells me. “And the way we are going to survive this is the same way we survived many things that Jerusalem has been through. We have a lot of history, and people always choose us over any other tattoo artist in Jerusalem.”
The majority of Christians in Jerusalem are Palestinians, but the Razzouk family belong to the tiny Coptic Orthodox community, which has been in Jerusalem for hundreds of years.
Identity is complicated in the Middle East. And important. I ask Chris how the family understands its own identity.
“As a Coptic family, originally coming from Egypt, we always say that we are Coptic Christians first. But, of course, we have existed in Jerusalem, in the Holy Land, for over 500 years, and we are Arabs, so we relate to the Palestinian community more.”
Israel secured control of the Old City of Jerusalem in 1967, but living under Israeli rule is still a complex thing to process for many Arabic-speaking Christians in the city — including Chris.
“At the end of the day, we are living in Israel,” he says, lowering his voice to add: “unfortunately.”
But, he adds, “we pay taxes and we get a lot of benefits, as a business in Jerusalem, from being under the Israeli government. So, it's tricky. But from a personal point of view, of course, we lean more towards the Palestinian side.”
The difficult relationship that local, mostly Arabic-speaking Christians have with the state of Israel is not easy for many foreigners to understand, he explains, and in his conversations with his clients the subject often comes up. “
Most of the people who come here, especially those who serve with western powers here in the Holy Land, don't have a clear idea of what's really happening. But we work with everybody, everybody is welcome here, especially Christians, mostly, of course.”
In fact, Chris says, many of his clients are surprised to learn that there are any Christians native to the Holy Land.
“People spend all their lives eyeing the conflict here in the Holy Land, and when they come here, and they find that the Christians have existed for thousands of years here in Jerusalem, they get surprised. And especially when they see we have a lot of heritage, they find it very eye-opening.”
Though Razzouk also does secular tattoos, its main focus is on Christian symbols, and the family have turned down designs that they consider to run counter to Christian values.
The brand also has ambassadors all over the world, artists licensed to use their wooden stamps and their techniques, as long as abide by certain criteria.
“They work here at least for a couple of weeks to learn about the stamps, and about the history. They must have their own shop, so that they can display the wooden blocks in a dignified manner, and, of course, their orientation has to be Christian,” Chris explains.
Chris remained in Jerusalem throughout the most recent war, and he says he has already begun to see a bit of improvement in terms of business since the recent ceasefire between Israel and Hamas.
I ask if he ever felt the temptation to emigrate. His answer is much in line with that of his uncle Anton.
“Even if we feel that we want to leave, this place will always be a home base. We might leave for some time, but we will definitely eventually come back here, because Jerusalem is where everything started.”
“Take the Jerusalem Cross, for example: The big cross represents Jerusalem, and the four small crosses represent the Gospel that spread out from Jerusalem with the 12 disciples to the four corners of the world,” he explains.
“So, yes, we are in Jerusalem and we will always stay in Jerusalem.”
