Jewish
Week - 01.25.2002
The
Jewish Week
Russian
Jewry's Newest Pioneers
After
taking part in a four-day conference last week for Jewish journalists in
Russia, I vowed never again to complain about how difficult my job can
be.
I had
been invited to Moscow, along with several colleagues, to describe the
workings and goals of the American Jewish press to an audience of more
than 40 of our Russian counterparts. Some of them traveled thousands of
miles to participate in the seminar, sponsored by the Memorial
Foundation for Jewish Culture, a New York-based group devoted to
supporting efforts to strengthen Jewish life in countries decimated by
the Holocaust.
Some of
the attendees were old-timers from tiny communities, others were young
and cosmopolitan, from St. Petersburg and Moscow. But all face
tremendous obstacles, working for small publications struggling to
survive economically and culturally in a society just beginning to
reassert its Jewish pride.
One editor in his 20s told me his was the oldest “new Jewish
newspaper” in the Former Soviet Union, meaning post-Glasnost. It began
publication, he said, in1999. So this is, indeed, a fledgling
enterprise, and it has far to go before it becomes a major influence in
Jewish communal life.
By our standards, the newspapers are quite primitive. They have no
professionally trained journalists, few pages, little original
reporting, and limited graphics. Moreover, they have no paid circulation
and little if any advertising. All are subsidized by either a particular
Jewish organization or wealthy individual with a particular ideology to
push, so the editors are limited in what they can write about. Nor is
there much incentive to stretch the boundaries, since there is little
way of knowing if readers want more aggressive reporting.
But as Dr. Jerry Hochbaum, the executive director of the Memorial
Foundation, told the group at the opening session, “we believe you
have a special role to play in the revival of Jewish life here, not just
for the news you cover; you can help create a positive ambiance.” The
seminar, he said, was designed to introduce colleagues to each other and
encourage them to share ideas; to train them in professional skills; and
to improve their Jewish literacy.
“In the end, you’ll decide whether this enterprise is worth
continuing,” Hochbaum said, emphasizing that the Memorial Foundation
has no political agenda.
That last point was an alien concept for the participants, who are
naturally wary of outsiders coming in to help them. We had been warned
that Russian Jews tend to be skeptical, if not cynical, about others’
motives. No doubt they were wondering what we wanted from them. What’s
our angle? Is there funding in this for them, and at what price?
This group was less than friendly on meeting us, though we had come only
to help. There were no smiles, little eye contact, and language was a
major barrier. Very few spoke English, none of us spoke Russian, so we
all relied on Motty, a warm and highly talented young Russian pursuing a
doctorate in Jewish studies at the University of London, to bridge the
gap.
Our job was a bit delicate in that we were asked to describe our
newspapers and how they cover the community without talking down to the
group. In one key session, we posed three scenarios for the
participants, asking them if and when they would criticize Israel in
print; whether or not they would publicize an anti-Semitic incident in
their community; and what they would do if they learned that a prominent
Jewish leader in the community had committed an illegal act.
After much animated discussion, they reported back that they felt free
to criticize Israeli policies, drawing the line at Israel’s right to a
Jewish state. Reporting on anti-Semitism, they said, was a matter of
degree. Since swastika incidents are commonplace, they may not merit
attention in their newspapers, but major incidents are covered, they
said. The group was divided most on publicizing an embarrassing act
committed by a leader of the community. None would write anything
negative about their major sponsor, but some said they would write about
another leader while others said they would not.
As the days went on, though, the group participated more freely, and on
the last morning of the conference, I found the Russians’ deadpan
expressions giving way to smiles and nods for the first time. The social
walls between us were crumbling, and in the end, the group overcame its
suspicions and expressed satisfaction with the program and interest in
meeting again.
I felt humbled by the resolve of these journalistic pioneers, and for
all the traveling, unpleasant weather and communication problems, was
proud to have been part of what I hope will be the beginning of a
professional association of Russian Jewish journalists, and an ongoing
relationship between them and us.
The feeling that I had been involved in mitzvah work was brought home to
me my first day back at the office in New York when I showed a
colleague, who emigrated from Odessa, one of the newspapers I had
brought back with me.
When she read the masthead on the front page — Jewish News — she
began to cry, explaining, “I never could imagine seeing the word
‘Jewish’ so big on a Jewish newspaper in Russia. It’s really a
miracle.”
Indeed she’s right, and I hope it continues to grow, reflecting the
rebirth of Russian Jewish life and of a vibrant press to tell the story.
n
Gary Rosenblatt’s e-mail address is
Gary@jewishweek.com