Until a few years ago, the Jews of the Lubavitch Hasidic sect living in Crown Heights told their children to not to venture south of Empire Boulevard into the African-American and Afro-Caribbean neighborhood of Flatbush. But crime has gone down ever since Rudy Giuliani’s anti-crime mayoral administration of the 1990s. Now the scene is different. A new Jewish-owned residential building is being erected on Lefferts Avenue in Flatbush. Nearby, developers are trying to put up luxury housing. A young Hasidic couple opened a stylish clothing store on the same street a few months ago.

“There is a big demand for Jews, more than ever before,” said Yossi Popack, a residential property owner in the area.

Property values are soaring in the heart of Hasidic Crown Heights. One could find a two bedroom apartment in the area of $1500, but most Hasidic families here have between eight and 12 children. A two family building has gone for over $700,000, something that might have sold for less than a quarter of a million dollars about a decade ago, according to one news report. And unless a Lubavitch family gets a job in another city, they stay in New York and want to remain within walking distance of their main synagogue on Eastern Parkway. Thus, Hasidic families are moving farther south and settling near and in Flatbush for cheaper living spaces in proximity to the synagogue. This is putting a strain on the African-American and Afro-Caribbean community and is adding to renewed tensions between these communities after more than a decade of calm since the infamous riots of 1991 that resulted in the murder of one foreign, Hasidic visitor.

“There is not enough housing,” said Mae Williams, an African-American health care worker and a Parent Teacher Association president at a local elementary school. “It is hard to find places to live for minorities.”

Rents are rising around the border of Flatbush and Crown Heights, causing many of the neighborhood’s original minority residents to move farther out in Brooklyn or out the city altogether. Some move in with family or friends. Solomon Long, the principle at the elementary school at which Williams works, says that his school’s enrollment drops every year because families are moving out to places like New Jersey due to housing prices.

But Williams believes that African-American and Afro-Caribbean residents are being pushed out by more than just market forces. She said she went to one of the new Jewish-owned housing developments at the corner of New York and Lefferts Avenue, and the contractor working there would not even give her a phone number in order to obtain an application for a unit.

“This is not right,” she said. 

Many buildings right on the border between these two neighborhoods show that the exodus of minorities leads to the inflow of Hasidim. A plush, new seven story residential building sits at 502 New York Ave in Flatbush, surrounded by older buildings. The common lounge on the first floor has a portrait of Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, the Lubavitcher’s late spiritual leader.

Nearby, the condominiums that are occupied at 645 Lefferts Ave. have mezuzahs on the door to signify that it is a Jewish home. The names on the front door buzzer are all Jewish and the mailman who delivers to the building says that only Jews live there. The manager, Shaul Cohen, declined to comment.

Elliot Ginsburg, a professor of Jewish thought at the University of Michigan, notes that Jewish law does permit a certain amount of discrimination between Jews and non-Jews, but he doubted that Hasidic Jews in Crown Heights had malevolent motives.

“On some level you’re trying to build a cohesive world in a setting where the dominant social reality doesn't support your vision of the world,” he said.

“I don’t see that,” said Yossi Jacobson, a rabbi and orator in Crown Heights, commenting that realtors are not discriminating against non-Jews. “A lot of people move out. Real estate has shot up rocket high.”

But for Cajuan Keith, an African-American elementary school teacher in the neighborhood, whether or not the exclusion is intentional is immaterial to the consequences.

Keith lives in a predominantly Hasidic building and for the most part he enjoys it. But he says that he is subject to feelings of exclusion. During Jewish festivals, police do not let him park his car outside his own building while they allow out-of-town Hasidic Jews to do so. While he has not experienced violence or any kind of threatening racism in his building, he does feel that some of the children there are condescending towards him.

“They give you a look like you’re lower than them,” he said.

The exclusion goes beyond housing, according to Keith. While Jewish businesses do not deny African-Americans or Afro-Caribbean people from patronizing their stores, he said, they do not tend to hire any. The people who work for Hasidic business owners are either other Jews or Latinos from outside the neighborhood, he said.

There are exceptions. The main Hasidic synagogue on Kingston Ave. and Eastern Parkway employs several African-American custodians. One of Keith’s friends does in fact work for a Hasidic man.

“His boss is a cool Jew,” he said.

On a scale of one to 10, Keith placed the current racial tensions between Hasidic Jews and African-Americans at seven.

Williams believes that it is a trend in exclusive housing like this and the condescension that people like Keith have experienced is what contributes to the friction between the two communities.

“We should all try live together,” she said. “They wonder why blacks get pissed off at the Jews.”

Organizations like the Crown Heights Jewish Community Council and people like Jacobson are aware of the friction and cite crime as a major concern for the Hasidic community.

“For many years it's been pretty peaceful,” said Jacobson. “Last year, we saw an increase in violence.”

A middle aged Jewish man was beaten by a group of African-American teenagers allegedly shouting anti-Jewish remarks in August. Break-ins and muggings have also been reported.

Some indicators show crime is rising in the area on the whole. Errol Louis wrote in the New York Daily News in November, “In the 77th Precinct, where I live, there were 15 murders last year - way down from 1989, when 70 people were murdered, but still an unacceptable 66% increase from 1998. In the neighboring 71st, which covers lower Crown Heights, there have been 18 murders this year, an eye-popping 157% increase from last year.”

Jacobson, whose car has been broken into twice, thinks that the crime committed against Jews is serious.

“I don't think it's random because it happens in one direction,” he said. “It is African-American brothers who attack the Jews living here. I call them brothers because I believe that we are all children of one God.” 

Both the pushing out of minority residents at the border with Flatbush and the crime in the neighborhood have people in both communities fearing the reopening of the wounds from the Crown Heights riots.

In the summer of 1991, a Lubavitcher driver hit and killed an African-American boy named Gavin Cato in Crown Heights. One of the Hasidic ambulances came to the scene and only picked up the Jewish driver, while Cato was still alive. After Cato died, African-Americans protested and the protests turned into three days of violence. Many Jews were beaten and storefronts were smashed. Yankel Rosenbaum, a student from Australia, was killed. The rioting went on for several days. Many Hasidic residents refer to it as a pogrom.

Williams and Keith do not think that the friction caused by the Hasidic migration to Flatbush or the lack of affordable housing for minorities will be the spark that sets off another riot. But neither of them dismissed the prospect of tensions rising to the boiling point.

“We don’t need that,” said Williams. “Someday, there’s a possibility.”

Jacobson sees that the ingredients are in the air. Leaders like the Rev. Al Sharpton were able point to Cato’s death and use the African-American community’s anger to inspire a revolt in 1991. There is crime in Crown Heights and minorities are frustrated by the shrinking of the housing supply near the border with Flatbush.

“All we need is one reverend who's an anti-Semite to flare up his community,” said Jacobson. “Today a riot? No. But tomorrow?”