Walk down Washington Street today and you’ll see the gleaming glass of the World Trade Center towers and the frantic rush of commuters heading toward the Battery. It’s loud. It's modern. But if you stop right near the corner of Morris Street, you’re standing on the ghost of Little Syria New York. Most people walk right over it. They have no idea that before the skyscrapers and the 9/11 Memorial, this was the beating heart of Arab life in America.
It wasn't just a few shops.
From the late 1880s until the 1940s, this neighborhood stretched from the Hudson River to Broadway. It was a dense, salty, vibrant enclave of immigrants from Greater Syria—which back then included modern-day Lebanon, Syria, Jordan, and Palestine. Honestly, it’s wild how much history was flattened to make room for the Brooklyn-Battery Tunnel. We’re talking about a place where the first Arabic-language newspapers in the U.S. were printed and where the smells of rosewater and lamb fat mixed with the industrial soot of the New York docks.
What Really Happened to the Original Little Syria
History is kinda messy. People like to think neighborhoods just "evolve," but Little Syria was basically dismantled by eminent domain. In the 1940s, city planner Robert Moses—a man who arguably shaped modern New York more than anyone else—decided the city needed a tunnel to connect Manhattan to Brooklyn. That decision was the death knell for the community. Hundreds of buildings were razed. Families who had lived there for generations were given 30-day notices to pack up and leave.
Most moved to Atlantic Avenue in Brooklyn, which is why that area is now the go-to spot for Middle Eastern food in NYC. But the original soul stayed behind in Manhattan, trapped in the few buildings that survived the bulldozers.
The Three Survivors
Today, only three physical remnants of Little Syria New York remain on Washington Street. It’s a miracle they’re still there.
The most famous is the St. George’s Syrian Catholic Church. It’s this tiny, beautiful building with a white terracotta facade that looks totally out of place next to the massive parking garages and office buildings. It was originally a tenement, then it became a church in the 1920s. Now? It’s a tavern. It’s called O'Hara's Pub, and while the interior has changed, the spirit of the old neighborhood clings to the brickwork.
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Then you’ve got the Downtown Community House. This was a colonial revival building that served as a settlement house for the immigrants. It helped people learn English and navigate the complexities of being New Yorkers. Finally, there’s a small tenement building at 109 Washington Street. It looks like any other old NYC apartment block, but it’s one of the last places where the families of Little Syria actually slept and ate.
The Intellectual Hub You Never Heard About
One of the biggest misconceptions about Little Syria New York is that it was just a neighborhood of poor laborers. That’s just wrong. It was an intellectual powerhouse.
Ever heard of Kahlil Gibran? He wrote The Prophet, one of the best-selling books of all time. He lived and worked right here. He was part of "The Pen League" (al-Rabitah al-Qalamiyyah), a group of Arab-American writers who revolutionized Arabic literature from a tiny office in Lower Manhattan. They were rebels. They broke away from the rigid traditionalism of old-world poetry and started writing about the human condition in a way that resonated globally.
They weren't just writing for themselves. They were shipping newspapers and books from Little Syria New York all the way back to Beirut and Damascus. This tiny slice of Manhattan was actually the center of a literary renaissance called al-Mahjar.
- Ameen Rihani: Often called the father of Arab-American literature.
- Mikhail Naimy: A philosopher and critic who lived in the neighborhood.
- Elia Abu Madi: A poet whose work is still taught in schools across the Middle East today.
Why the Food Was a Revolution
You can't talk about this place without mentioning the food. Before Little Syria, most New Yorkers had never seen a chickpea. They certainly hadn't tasted hummus or kibbeh.
The neighborhood was lined with "Oriental goods" stores. Sahadi’s, which is now a massive institution in Brooklyn, actually started right here on Washington Street in 1895. Back then, it was a tiny storefront where you could buy bulk spices, olives, and pistachios. Imagine being a 19th-century New Yorker used to steak and potatoes and suddenly smelling the scent of za'atar and roasting coffee with cardamom for the first time. It must have felt like another planet.
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The restaurants here weren't just for the locals. By the 1920s, adventurous foodies from uptown were heading down to Little Syria New York to try "exotic" dishes. It was one of the first times Middle Eastern cuisine started to influence the broader American palate.
The Tragedy of the 1940s Displacement
When the Brooklyn-Battery Tunnel project began, it wasn't just buildings that were lost; it was a social fabric. The displacement was surgical. The city didn't just take a block; they took the heart of the commercial district.
Businesses that had thrived for fifty years were suddenly gone.
If you look at old photos from the Library of Congress, you see a streetscape that looks like a Mediterranean village dropped into Manhattan. Intricate balconies, signs in both English and Arabic, and kids playing on the stoops. By 1946, most of that was rubble. While some activists tried to save the neighborhood, the post-WWII push for modernization was too strong. The community was scattered.
Traces You Can Still Find Today
If you want to find the soul of Little Syria New York now, you have to look closely. It’s not a tourist trap. It’s a scavenger hunt.
Start at Elizabeth H. Berger Plaza. This is a small park named after a local advocate who fought to preserve the area’s history. In 2017, the city finally installed some commemorative markers here. They feature poems from the Pen League and some historical context about the Syrian Quarter. It’s a quiet spot to sit and realize that beneath the pavement lies the foundation of thousands of lives.
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Check out the New York City Landmarks Preservation Commission reports if you’re a nerd for details. They have exhaustive files on the St. George’s Syrian Catholic Church. It’s fascinating to read the architectural justifications for why that building survived when everything else was destroyed.
It Wasn't Just "Syrian"
Labels back then were a bit different than they are now. In the early 1900s, people from the Levant were often just called "Syrians" by the U.S. government, even if they were from what we now call Lebanon or Palestine.
The community was a mix of religions, too. You had Maronite Christians, Melkite Catholics, Orthodox Christians, and Muslims. They lived side-by-side. In fact, many historians point to Little Syria New York as a model for how diverse groups could coexist and thrive in a new country. They were unified by language and the shared struggle of the immigrant experience rather than divided by sectarian lines.
How to Experience the Legacy
Since most of the physical neighborhood is gone, experiencing Little Syria requires a bit of effort. You have to go to the places where the survivors moved.
- Visit Atlantic Avenue in Brooklyn: This is where the descendants of Little Syria’s merchants settled. Sahadi’s is still there. Damascus Bakery is still there. You can taste the same recipes that were served on Washington Street a century ago.
- The Washington Street Historical Society: This group of historians and activists is doing the heavy lifting to keep the memory alive. They lead walking tours and advocate for the preservation of the remaining three buildings.
- The Arab American National Museum: While located in Michigan, they have extensive digital archives about the New York Syrian colony. It’s a goldmine for anyone who wants to see the actual ship manifests and personal letters from the era.
The Resilience of Memory
It’s easy to get cynical about New York City. It’s a city that eats its own history. But the story of Little Syria New York is a reminder that neighborhoods aren't just bricks and mortar. They are ideas.
The idea of Little Syria—a place where the Arab world and the American dream met—didn't actually die when the tunnel was built. It just moved. It shifted to Brooklyn, it spread to New Jersey, and it paved the way for every Arab-American community that exists in the U.S. today.
Next time you’re in Lower Manhattan, ignore the tourists taking selfies at the Bull. Walk a few blocks south. Find that little white church. Look up at the "Syrian Quarter" signs. You’ll see a version of New York that most people have completely forgotten, but one that is just as essential to the city's identity as the Empire State Building or the Statue of Liberty.
Actionable Steps for the Curious Historian
- Plan a walking tour: Start at 103 Washington Street (St. George’s), move to 105-107 Washington (Downtown Community House), and end at 109 Washington. It takes less than ten minutes to walk, but a lifetime to process.
- Read "The Prophet" by Kahlil Gibran: Knowing it was written or inspired by his time in this specific neighborhood changes how you read the text.
- Visit the 9/11 Memorial Museum: Look for mentions of the older neighborhood in their historical exhibits. They often acknowledge the diverse history of the site before the original Trade Center was built.
- Support local preservation: Follow the Washington Street Historical Society. They are currently working on ways to further memorialize the area through public art and digital storytelling.
Little Syria might be a ghost neighborhood, but ghosts only disappear if you stop talking about them. Keep the name on your tongue. Washington Street isn't just a corridor to the ferry; it's a monument to the people who helped build this city from the ground up.