Canadian Jewish News - 08.12.2004

Canadian Jewish News

Jewish community rejuvenated in Muslim Kazan

By PAUL LUNGEN 
Staff Reporter 

KAZAN, RUSSIA — A look of utter amazement comes over Jenya Sontz’s face when she’s told about the harassment experienced by Jewish students on Canadian college campuses. She shakes her head in disbelief when she’s told about the mini-riot at Concordia University, which prevented former Israeli prime minister Benjamin Netanyahu from speaking, and the day-to-day anti-Israel agitation that often spills over into intimidation.

At the numerous universities and technical schools in Kazan, Jewish students have experienced nothing like that, she said. In fact, non-Jewish students in the Muslim region of Tatarstan are curious, even respectful, of their Jewish colleagues.

“The most popular reaction when I say I am a Jew is, ‘wow, say a few words in Jewish,’” she says.

Sontz, director of Hillel programming for more than 500 Jewish students in Kazan, the capital of Tatarstan, said in the post-Soviet republic students take an interest in other groups and are respectful of each other’s heritage.

While the Tatar people are of Turkish descent, there are also Arab students on campus who are eager to discuss current events in the Middle East.

When it comes to travel, “non-Jewish young people admire our opportunity to go to Israel,” particularly through Taglit (Birthright). So far, more than 100 Kazan students have visited the Jewish state on Birthright missions.

“We think young people can discuss without a fight, without fanaticism,” Sontz said. “Thank God, Tatarstan is such a tolerant republic.”

More than a decade after the collapse of communism, 20-somethings and those younger are free to explore their Jewish identities and many avail themselves of the cultural and historical programming now available in Kazan. “Older people envy us because they say they never had that opportunity,” Sontz said.

While younger people are interested in developing a firm Jewish identity, those in their 30s and 40s show only modest interest in Jewish programs and traditions. That is a result of 70 years of Communist government, which stifled religious and nationalist identification, Sontz said.

The Sontz family, however, refused to be cowed. Her late father, Leonid, was a klezmer musician who popularized the Jewish art form, at first in underground circles. Sontz grew up in a family that had a keen sense of Jewish traditions.

With the end of the Soviet Union, Jewish life in Kazan has returned to the open and the community boasts a wide range of facilities offering religious, cultural and social activities.

Pavel Vasenin, 19, is co-ordinator of Hillel projects in Kazan and a regular drop-in at the student club, Afifon, located above the community’s synagogue. Like student centres in North America, the rooms are sparse, barely decorated. But they provide a handy venue for Jewish kids to gather, schmooze and, what else, eat.

“I’m here because I’m learning more about Jewish history and Jewish tradition,” he said. “Two years ago, I never knew there were Jewish organizations in Kazan. When I came here, I adapted very quickly. And now I even started to do my own research on anti-Semitism, as well as co-ordinate Jewish programs.”

For many years, Judaism never played a big role in his life. He was aware his mother’s passport had the designation, “Jew” in it, but she never overtly identified herself as such. Today, Vasenin is the only one in his family family who attends synagogue – “and I have a big family,” he said.

“I feel myself more protected… more calm here.”

Over at the Chesed seniors’ club, the elderly are experiencing something similar – the sense of camaraderie, shared history and familiarity that was hard to find in communist times.

Sofia Borodova, 45, directs cultural programming at the Kazan community centre. She, too, knew little about Judaism until relatively late in her life. It was her interest in Jewish culture that first linked her to things Jewish. In the 1980s, she recalled, a Jewish cultural society called Menorah was quite popular, while Sontz’s concerts sometimes attracted 1,000 people. The first public seders attracted hundreds more. Ironically, they were held in the former headquarters of the Komsomol Union – the communist youth movement.

With the 1990s liberalization, many Jews left Kazan, mostly for Israel. At the same time, community leaders discovered many others reclaiming their Jewish heritage. Kazan residents joke “there were 7,000 Jews, 4,000 left and now we have 11,000,” Borodova said.

Rabbi Yitzchok Gorelick believes the most accurate figure today is a Jewish population of 7,000 to 10,000 – or at least that many with some Jewish roots.

All aspects of the Jewish life cycle are now available in Kazan, including chupahs at weddings and mikvahs.

While most of her friends are not Jewish, Borodova said they are interested in learning about her heritage. What’s more, “we have a ladies’ club and non-Jewish women come to learn about Jewish traditions.”

Borodova would like to see her two sons marry Jewish girls. “When I met a Jewish guy, I felt something natural, something dear to me. Many Jewish ladies of an older age who come to Chesed, who married non-Jews, they’re saying they made a mistake. I wouldn’t say my personal life is so unclouded or ideal, but this personal unity makes our family strong.”

Religious life is co-ordinated by Rabbi Gorelick, who is held in high regard in Kazan. “We were lucky that we have this rabbi,” Borodova said. “In other places, there are problems between the religious and the secular organizations. [Rabbi Gorelick] is a very understanding person, because our people are not familiar with religious life. But the rabbi does his best to take into consideration that the people are not used to it. It’s very hard for them.”

Borodova believes that while strict religious observance is not prevalent, “there are key values… We find the common values and Chabad has the highest authority in the community.’

Rabbi Gorelick points to the co-operation between Chabad, secular organizations and outside Jewish agencies in rejuvenating Kazan’s Jewish life. He sat with the community board to brainstorm ways of raising money to upgrade the community building, which was returned to the community in 1995. Chabad committed to repairing the main-floor sanctuary, while local philanthropists donated significant sums for the rest of the structure. The Joint Distribution Committee gave funds to operate Chesed and a library, while the Russian Jewish Congress helped in the reconstruction of the third floor. Altogether, $700,000 US was raised. 

Chabad pays 50 per cent of the continuing operating expenses for community programs, including the kindergarten, which serves 17 children, and events such as community seders and the summer camp, which is attended by about 100 youngsters.

Rabbi Gorelick acknowledges the level of religious observance in Kazan is not where he would like it to be, but few people eat pork and in other ways, “many have taken the first step” toward a more observant lifestyle, he said.

Rabbi Gorelick believes bringing the community along to a more traditional lifestyle is a long-term project and cannot be forced down people’s throats.

Twice a year, Rabbi Gorelick travels to small towns in the region around Kazan to minister to the clusters of Jews there. A few hundred can be found in Izhevsk, Yoshkar-Ola and Cheboksary, he said. Chabad also dispatches yeshiva students to these towns to help conduct holiday services, he added.

Although his yeshiva education contained no lessons in administrative and organizational skills, Chabad emissaries are expected to learn on their feet. In the years since he accepted his posting to Kazan, Chabad has begun to organize seminars on these vital topics and he has flown to Moscow, New York and Israel to attend these conferences.

Paul Lungen was recently a guest of Chabad Lubavitch in Russia.