NCSJ- 1991 Sen. Wellstone speech

As we reflect on the legacy and mourn the tragic loss of Senator Paul Wellstone and others who perished in the October 25th plane crash, NCSJ recalls the Senator's commitment to the issues of Soviet Jewry and religious freedom, which he pursued throughout his 12-year career in the Senate. The following speech, given during his first year in the United States Senate, reflects that commitment and his own personal background.

Mr. President, I would like to speak today about Jewish emigration from the Soviet Union. This issue has tremendous personal meaning to me, since my father, Leon Wellstone, fled prerevolutionary Russia to escape the pogroms and other forms of discrimination against Jews. I will never forget how grateful my father, who is no longer alive, was to live in our country. I know if he were alive today, he would insist that I do all that I can as a U.S. Senator to help others emigrate to the United States.

When my father lived in Russia, the country was in upheaval. Once again, the Soviet Union is in upheaval, and this time I hope it will turn out well for the people. And during this time of transformation--and I hope and pray it will be a democratic transformation--one manifestation of the changes initiated by President Gorbachev is the Government's willingness to grant Jewish people permission to emigrate.

Last year alone, 180,000 Jews emigrated from the Soviet Union as compared to 1,000 allowed to emigrate in 1986. This spring, the Soviet Parliament passed a new emigration law which codified these changes and established this as a human right in the law of the land. I welcome this initiative and all the democratization that has taken place in the Soviet Union and, once again, hope that it will turn out well for the people.

However, despite the progress, there are many Jews who are refused the right to emigrate because they know alleged 'state secrets.' These secrecy refusniks, as they are known, range from engineers to musicians. Many of them had only limited access to classified information, and in other cases, the `secrets of the state' which they knew are now public information and really have become obsolete.

A decade of reform makes it crystal clear that today's refusniks represent a historic relic of past Soviet repressive policies and could not and must not be an intended outcome of current policy. But the result, Mr. President, is that all too many families are still torn apart, and many lives have been placed on hold by unreasonable refusals of permission to emigrate.

I recently met the wife, son, and the father of one man caught in the Soviet emigration bureaucratic quagmire. That man is Ovsey Sady. Ovsey Sady currently lives in the Soviet Union, anxiously waiting to join his family in Minnesota. Mr. Sady once lived in Lvov with his wife, his teenaged son, and his elderly father. Mr. Sady worked at a factory which consulted with the Soviet space center, producing goods that were used in the military. He had a low-level security clearance. In 1978, he left that job for a different factory job in the Ukraine, where he did not need security clearance at all.

Life at that factory was never easy for Mr. Sady, because he was discriminated against as a non-Ukrainian and as a Jew. After 11 years, in 1989, Mr. Sady left that job, and he has been unemployed ever since.

The Sadys applied to leave the Soviet Union for the United States in September 1988. The family planned to join Mrs. Sady's brother and sister, who live in Minnesota. The Sadys were refused permission to leave. The family reapplied 6 months later. This time, only Mr. Sady's father was granted permission.

In early 1990, they applied again, and this time all but Ovsey were allowed to emigrate. Ovsey was refused permission because his secrecy term had not yet expired. Yet, many of his coworkers at his original plant with higher security clearances were granted exit visas. Some current employees at the plant have received exit visas. Mr. Sady was told by the head of the Lvov OVIR office that his secrecy term would expire at the end of 1990.

In October 1990, Mr. Sady reapplied, only to be told by the Lvov visa office that he would now have to wait until 1995 for his secrecy term to end. He has not received any written information concerning the duration of his secrecy term.

Mr. Sady's family waits for him in the United States, and they are trying to build a life for themselves. His wife, son and father live in a small apartment near Minneapolis. Their principal means of support are a variety of different assistance programs. His son is a full-time student in Minnesota Community College, where he studies English, and Mrs. Sady attends community educational classes. They are trying to put down roots and start their lives anew, despite the gaping hole in their family. Mr. Sady's father is 83 years old, and he suffers from glaucoma and high blood pressure. Mrs. Sady also suffers from poor health.

Ovsey Sady is not well himself. He has stomach ulcers which have hospitalized him in the past, and he does not have enough money to follow his prescribed special diet. Unemployed and alone, Mr. Sady remains a hapless victim of unjust, unwarranted bureaucratic recalcitrance.

In the summer of 1990, President Gorbachev traveled to Minnesota. And while he dined with our Governor 10 miles away, Victor and Sima Sady were reminded of their loss by the empty chair at their dinner table.

The Helsinki accords, signed by the Soviet Union, state that 'a family should not be separated' and special attention should be given to requests of an urgent character, such as the request submitted by an elderly or an ill person.

I urge the Soviet authorities, from the Senate floor today, to fulfill their obligation under these accords and permit the emigration of Ovsey Sady and others who were caught in the remnants of the cold war, which is over.

If my father were alive today, he would applaud the recent changes in the Soviet Union. He would be so excited. God knows, I wish he were alive today to see this. But I also know that my father, from his own experience, would worry about the resurgence of anti-Semitism, which is always there beneath the surface. And I know my father, while he would hope for the most from this transformation in the Soviet Union, would guard all of us against the rise of discrimination and persecution of Jewish people. I feel very strongly about this.

Mr. President, in our enthusiasm for the global reunification of the East and the West, please let us not forget our obligation to assure the reunification of families like the Sadys.

Mr. President, I have sent letters to authorities in the Soviet Union. I have sent letters and made calls to our own Government.

Mr. President, I will send a copy of this speech to the Soviet Ambassador, and I will meet with the Soviet Ambassador if I travel to the Soviet Union in December, as I hope to. One reason to go to the Soviet Union is to do everything I can to bring the unification of this family.

It is important to speak from the Senate floor today about the Sady family. It is a call to conscience. This speech will not be the end of it. I hope that as a son of a Jewish emigrant from the Soviet Union, I hope that as a Senator from the State of Minnesota, I can help to bring together this family.