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PDF FormatBut if Russian-language culture in Israel has been spurned by the local elites and has had to fend for itself when addressing Jewish themes, there is one area in which Russian immigrants in Israel have been full partners in a larger project: The vast world of Russian-language culture. During the long decades of Soviet rule, Jews played a prominent role in the shaping of the anti-Soviet and non-Soviet cultures. Dissidents opposed ideological repression in the name of freedom of conscience and the right of Soviet national groups to develop their cultures freely. For some, Zionism became an important vehicle for expression, and the worlds of Zionists and dissidents in the Soviet Union sometimes became so entangled as to be indistinguishable. The same people who inveighed against the Soviet regime also weighed in on Jewish topics. For Jews who left the Soviet Union at that time, it was as important to expose the plight of Jews in the Soviet Union as it was to spread the word about the Evil Empire.
When Russian immigrants to Israel learned that the local cultural establishment was uninterested in what they had to offer, they quickly discovered a highly attractive, Russian alternative. The main conduit for such expression was Russian-language radio stations operating in the West, which had broadcast dissident truths to those caught behind the Iron Curtain. Exiled “White Russians,” anti-Bolsheviks who emigrated to the West following the Revolution or World War II, were the original force behind these activities. Gradually they were joined by Jewish émigrés from the 1970s who had difficulty finding a niche in Israel. Radio stations such as the BBC and the American-German Radio Liberty became a meeting ground in which former Soviets in Israel could participate in Russian cultural discourse. Indeed, until the collapse of the Soviet Union, these “voices”—the term used both in and out of the Soviet Union to describe the stations—were the leading intellectual forces behind the creation of a free Russian culture.
In addition, monthly and quarterly literary journals and other Russian-language publications sprung up in Europe, mostly under the leadership of the dissidents. Many of those who immigrated to Israel in the 1970s took part, as is clear from picking up almost any issue from the 1980s. In the Spring 1982 issue of Continent, a thick quarterly published in Paris by the dissident Vladimir Maximov, seven of the twenty-eight contributors were Israelis. Four of the main contributors to the quarterly Syntaxis, which was published by the prominent dissident Andrei Sinyavsky, were living in Israel. Two Israelis were even regular contributors to Grani, a journal that was a stronghold of traditional, non-Jewish Russian culture. The prominence of Jewish immigrants from the 1970s in the world of Russian culture meant that those who came to Israel in the 1990s were already familiar with the cultural achievements of their predecessors through publications that had found their way to the Soviet Union from Europe, the United States and Israel.
With the fall of the Soviet empire, dissident and non-Soviet culture has become dominant in Russia as well. Russian-language culture has become an empire, as a result of Russia’s new openness and the presence of large, widespread Russian-speaking communities all over the world. Today, a Russian-language writer in Israel can publish his works in their original language in the United States, Germany, England, France, Cyprus and even Australia. In 1997, Alexander Goldstein, a writer living in Tel Aviv, won the two most prestigious literary prizes in Russia. Russian-language newspapers in Israel publish articles by Jewish and non-Jewish journalists who live in Russia and in the West.
In the spring of 1998, a world conference on contemporary Russian literature was held in Jerusalem. The speakers, both Jews and non-Jews, included the foremost Russian intellectuals from around the world, from universities in the United States, Switzerland, Germany, France, Russia and Israel. The relatively small auditorium in Jerusalem overflowed with an audience eager to hear every word. To Israeli eyes, the sight was more than a little surreal. But the backdrop of Jerusalem’s Old City did not seem out of place to the visiting participants: The Russian-speaking community in Israel has established itself as an integral part of worldwide Russian culture.
Two distinct paths, Jewish and Russian, lie before the Russian-speaking Jews in Israel. These two options are not seen by the immigrants as necessarily contradictory; many are active in both arenas. Still, the size and quality of the recent immigration to Israel has tipped the scales in favor of the Russian alternative. In the past, intellectuals who came to Israel placed a clear emphasis on their Jewish identity, which intensified in proportion to how long they had been in the Jewish state. Today, the size of the Russian-speaking community in Israel, and the relative ease of communication with their counterparts abroad, has strengthened the link between Russian-speaking Israelis and the Russian cultural world.
At the same time, the revival of the Jewish community in Russia and the reopening of Jewish educational institutions there have reinforced the connection to Russian culture. The possibility of being heard by both Russians and Jews in Russia—while not being heard by anyone in Hebrew-speaking Israel—works against the Israeli and Jewish identity of Russians living in Israel. They need not take part in the building of a Jewish state, or concern themselves with the troubles of the Jewish diaspora in America or elsewhere. The importance of these trends is evident: Israeli intellectuals of Russian origin once saw themselves first as Jews, and then as Israelis. Today, a great number of them see themselves principally as Russians.
If these trends persist, it is fair to say that the Jewish side of Russian immigrant culture in Israel will fade over time; indeed, this has already begun to happen. Caught between an indifferent Israeli establishment and a rejuvenated Russian civilization, Jewish thinkers and artists who want to express themselves as Jews find themselves without allies and without the heroic ethos that accompanied Zionist and Jewish activity under the Soviet regime. As long as they fail to penetrate the culture of the Jewish state, they will come to feel ineffectual, superfluous and, in the end, embittered.
It was once believed that the Jewish state’s Russian roots could provide a basis for integrating Russian immigrants into Israeli culture. This belief was foolish, for it ignored the sentiments and experiences of the immigrants themselves. But there was always another possible basis, one that was barely explored: The Jewish heritage, and the common commitment to the establishment and maintenance of a thriving Jewish state. These shared interests could serve as the impetus for joint cultural and intellectual projects, for the betterment of Jewish and Zionist culture on both sides of the divide. For this to happen, a concerted effort is required. Israeli intellectuals who are committed to fostering the country’s Jewish identity must seek out the participation of Russian-speaking writers and artists, and try to understand and even participate in the culture of the Russian enclave itself. Russian cultural figures have to overcome decades of habitual avoidance of Hebrew culture—by searching for like-minded Hebrew-language groups and publications, by involving themselves more actively in Israeli public life, and by mastering the Hebrew language and expressing themselves within the Hebrew culture, as did the many waves of immigrants before them.
As the State of Israel enters its second half-century, it is precisely its Jewish character which remains undefined, and which is under constant assault from both within and without. At such a moment in history, the contribution of Israel’s Russian-speaking Jewish writers and artists could be critical in determining the future of the country.
Anna Isakova’s columns appear regularly in the Russian- and Hebrew-language press in Israel. She lives in Jerusalem.
