For years, Jon Bradley thought he was Jewish. Then he had a conversion and made aliyah. Finally, he met up with his birth mother and father, an Arab. GIDEON KEREN SPECIAL TO THE JEWISH NEWS Jon's Sto ry osn. Brfiatdlse3eificsona tall, fident yet gentle, left- wing intellectual about to enter middle age. He wears round, John Lennon-type spectacles and ties his hair in a ponytail. It is impossible to imagine the traumas he has had to suffer throughout his life while searching searching for his identity. First, he had to struggle to make sense of living in a Jewish envi- ronment to which he instinctive- ly felt he did not belong. Then, after immigrating to Israel and, to all extent and purpose, being asked to leave the country, he had to start searching for his roots. Finally, he came face to face with the realization that though he had been adopted and brought Gideon Keren is a writer in Middlesex, England. up as a Jew, he was, in fact, half- Arab. Mr. Bradley's story first came to the public's attention three years ago, when he went to the High Court and became the first adult in the United Kingdom to try and have his adoption order annulled. In April 1994, the judge, Sir Stephen Brown, while sympathetic, ruled that adoption orders could not be reversed in later life as "the edifice of adop- tion would be gravely shaken." The story begins before Mr. Bradley was even born. His birth mother, an English Catholic stu- dent, became pregnant by a Kuwaiti Muslim studying for an education degree at London Uni- versity. The student returned to Kuwait without anyone aware that a baby was due, while Mr. Bradley's mother felt she had no choice but to give the baby up for adoption. This was, after all, 1959. Abortion was illegal, there was no child welfare for single mothers and illegitimacy and single motherhood were social stigmas. When her son was three weeks old, Jon's mother took him on the train to Manchester and placed him in a nursing home, pointed out by a priest she knew. A Jew- ish couple adopted Jon. They had been told, for reasons unknown, that the baby's birth parents were Jewish. "It was so simple," Mr. Bradley says today. "I went into the back door of the nursing home an Arab baby and came out the front door a Jewish baby." One year later, while stopping over on his way to America, Mr. Bradley's Kuwaiti father met up with his natural mother and dis- covered what had happened. By then, Jon Bradley was being raised as Ian Rosenthal in Tox- teth, a working-class Protestant district in Liverpool. However, right from the start, Mr. Bradley somehow felt he did not quite fit in. Most of his school- mates came from professional, Jon Bradley middle-class, Jewish back- grounds; his father worked as an unskilled laborer on the shop floor of Lucas Aerospace. Jon also found it difficult to get on with his adoptive parents, both of whom are no longer alive. He remembers his father as a short- tempered bigot. "He would liter- ally cry about the Holocaust and Jewish suffering, yet in the same breath would attack the `schvartzes.' " Mr. Bradley has fonder mem- ories of his adoptive mother, who, he says, "was a real Jewish moth- er who only wanted the best for me but had had to go on her hands and knees to get me. As a result, she was twice as protec- tive, twice-as smothering, twice as emotional." He remembers he was told not to play with goyishe children. Yet by the time he was 8, the family were the only Jews left on the street. The first real indication that JON'S STORY page 104