Jewish identity in the Soviet Union

Reviewed by Morton I. Teicher

Shush! Growing Up Jewish Under Stalin. By Emil Draitser. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2008. 338 Pages. $24.95.

In the long trail of tears that constitutes Jewish history, one of the few bright spots is the triumphant rescue of Russian Jewry. Although there was supposedly no official anti-Semitism in the Soviet Union, there was in fact considerable repression, especially directed toward those Jews known as "refuseniks" who sought to emigrate. Jews around the world rallied to their cause and diplomatic pressure was exerted. Eventually, one million Jews were freed to go to Israel and about 500,000 left for the United States, Germany, Canada, and other countries.

The hardships experienced by Soviet Jews are poignantly described in this memoir by Emil Draitser who managed to reach America in the late 1970s. He is now a professor of Russian in New York. Born in 1937, he concentrates in the book on his life until 1953 when Stalin died and the Jewish doctors accused of being poisoners were declared innocent. Draitser joined the celebration, albeit somewhat hesitatingly since he had systematically tried to identify himself as a Russian rather than as a Jew.

Beginning with his first day at school, his efforts to downplay his Jewish identity failed since his classmates and his teacher taunted him as a Jew. He joined Communist youth movements and saw himself as a "citizen of the USSR," but he continued to encounter anti-Semitism. At home, he was somewhat puzzled when his parents quietly observed Jewish holidays. His father taught him to root for Jews in the world chess championship, to take pride in the few Jewish winners of the annual Stalin Prize, and to know that both Marx and Einstein were Jews.

Confusion was intensified for Draitser when he was taught in school that Russians invented the steam engine, the light bulb, the radio, the telegraph, the airplane and the computer. More mixed messages came to him when he found anti-Semitic lines in the writings of his favorite Russian authors. Along with other Soviet youth, the truth about the Holocaust was kept from him. He was well into his twenties before he learned about the Jewish disaster.

Fortunately for Draitser, he was able to come to the United States and to learn how he had been victimized by Soviet propaganda. His narrative eloquently testifies to the persistence of Russian Jews in maintaining their identity as well as to the value of the protest movement on their behalf. This is a significant contribution to our understanding of life in the Soviet Union and to the vital importance of speaking out against oppression.

Bureaucracy in Israel
Shut Up, I'm Talking and Other Diplomacy Lessons I Learned in the Israeli Government. By Gregory Levey. New York: Free Press, 2008. 267 Pages. $24.

This is both a funny and a scary book. It's funny because Gregory Levey has a great sense of humor and he tells the story of his employment by the Israeli government over a three-year period with remarkable hilarity. It's scary because Levey frankly depicts the ineptitude and incompetence of Israeli bureaucrats although he wonders whether or not they are unique since he thinks that all governments may be "a bit wacky."

Born in South Africa and raised in Toronto, where he attended a day school with Israeli teachers, Levey was a 25-year old law student in New York when he decided to relieve his boredom by applying for an internship at the Israel mission to the United Nations. After a few months of a frustrating run-around, Levey was finally interviewed on the phone every day for several weeks by an Israel security agent who asked what often seemed to be silly questions. At last, Levey was invited to meet with Israel's Deputy Ambassador to the UN who began the interview by telling Levey "we don't offer internships." He then offered Levey a job as a speech writer if he passed a committee interview and a further security check. One of the questioners in the committee interview requested "a brief rundown of the United States' involvement in the Second World War." The security check took a couple of months and Levey finally reported for duty where the deputy ambassador opened their meeting by telling Levey "an incredibly dirty joke."

A series of comical episodes are then described, reaching an absurd climax in which Levey found himself representing Israel at a General Assembly session where, with no instructions, he had to cast Israel's vote on a resolution that he knew nothing about. His frantic efforts to seek guidance from the Mission were finally answered after the balloting had been completed. Almost matching the silliness of this episode is a scene where Levey meets Silvan Shalom, the foreign minister of Israel, whose forthcoming speech to the UN was written in part by Levey. Several other Israeli officials are also present to review the final draft of the speech. Shalom is dressed in his underwear for the meeting!

Levey was completing the requirements for his law degree by studying at night and is planning to resign in order to join his girl friend in Washington. He is asked to write a speech for Prime Minister Sharon who is visiting New York to secure support for his plan to withdraw from Gaza. The prime minister liked the speech and Levey is invited to come to Jerusalem to work in the prime minister's office.

Although he is asked to come immediately, the bureaucracy takes several frustrating months to clear him. He then works with more vexations first for Sharon and then for Prime Minister Olmert after Sharon's stroke. Finally, Levey and his girl friend, who accompanied him to Israel, are fed up with the irritations and difficulties of life in Israel. They decide to leave. He is now back in Toronto where he teaches at Ryerson University in the Communications Department. He watches developments in Israel with great interest, wishing Israel well but wondering whether or not it can "fix the systemic problems in both the government and the military."

Ultimately, despite the silliness and the goofiness he encountered, Levey is an empathetic observer who offers a compassionate commentary on Israel as perceived from a concerned vantage point. This unusual book can be enjoyed and relished, but it also needs to be pondered and weighed since Levey's sympathetic eyes see Israel with some of its warts.

Kibbutzim – small but influential
Zion in the Desert. By William F.S. Miles. Albany: State University of New York Press, 2007. 260 Pages. $70.

Author William Miles is a professor at Northeastern University. He describes himself as a "political anthropologist" who has worked among the Hausa, Tamils, French West Indians, Melanesians, Creoles, and Hindus. He claims that studying the "exotic other" is an escape from examining his "own strangeness, as a Jew, in the much wider Gentile world." Having decided to stop this "escape," he made up his mind to do field work and to write about the first Reform Jewish kibbutz. Part of his motivation was his determination to confront his own ambivalence as a Zionist who had failed to make aliyah. Accordingly, he introduces this book by calling it an "'ethno-autobiography': exploring one's self through the study of one's ethnic peers."

In 1999, Miles and his wife spent six weeks in a section of the Negev Desert called "Arava" where there were two kibbutzim established by Reform Jews: Yahel, founded in 1977 and Lotan, five years later. Previously, in 1994, Miles spent a sabbatical in Jerusalem, having already been to Israel several times on shorter trips. During this visit, he went to Yahel a couple of times where his high school friend was a member of the kibbutz and Miles resolved to return in order to study the settlement.

The history of the kibbutz movement is briefly described along with an account of how the two Reform kibbutzim were organized. The motivations of the people who settled there and the reasons they stayed or left are explored. The ways in which the two kibbutzim dealt with various crises is set forth. Among these was the problem of hired labor, which became economically necessary although kibbutz ideology was violated. The treatment of these workers and others who live on the kibbutz without being members is the subject of an entire chapter that illuminates some of the enigmas confronted by the kibbutzim.

Religious observance – or its lack – is another issue that created dissension. Maintaining kashrut, observing the Sabbath, and attending prayer services were discussed among the kibbutz members at great length and some compromises were adopted. Miles describes the religious situation on the two Reform kibbutzim as "ambiguous."

As is true of all kibbutzim, a number of Yahel's and Lotan's members have left, some to return to America and some to settle in other parts of Israel. Miles interviewed a number of these individuals, discovering a variety of reasons for the decision to leave. One was the lack of opportunity to practice a particular profession; another was the wish for more religious observance; still another was the desire for more "individuality and personal space." No matter why they left, according to Miles, they all have "an intense nostalgia for their experiences as pioneers of the Arava." For himself, Miles decided that both those who left and those who stayed are "another kind of Jew."

The material that is so well presented here is derived from what anthropologists call "participant observation," the methodology used to learn about another culture. Miles and his wife lived on the kibbutz, took part in its activities, astutely noted what went on around them, and interviewed many people. As Miles stated at the outset, he learned a great deal about himself.

The sum total of his findings, both personal and professional, make for fascinating reading that will enlighten readers about the kibbutz, a numerically small but influential part of Israeli society.

Dr. Morton I. Teicher is the Founding Dean, Wurzweiler School of Social Work, Yeshiva University and Dean Emeritus, School of Social Work, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill.

Updated 6/17/08