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Soviet Jewry movement born on Cleveland’s West side
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BY: Ellen Schur Brown Editor, Family Section
A recent JTA article notes that 2007 marks the 40th anniversary of the worldwide Soviet Jewry movement.
This grass-roots effort involving Jews and non-Jews all over America resulted in the emigration of more than one million Soviet Jews.
Activists from Beth Israel-The West Temple on Cleveland’s West side, where the international movement to free Soviet Jews began, dispute that timetable. Their campaign, they say, began in October, 1963, with the establishment of the Cleveland Committee on Soviet Anti-Semitism (CCSA). Ahead of politicians, diplomats and the Jewish establishment, this handful of Clevelanders was raising awareness and training other groups long before 1967.
By April, 1964, there was enough grass-roots attention to organize an American Jewish Conference on Soviet Jewry in Washington, D.C.
Researching modern history
In 1961, Dr. Louis Rosenblum, a scientist at NASA and then president of the small congregation at Beth Israel-The West Temple, formed a social action committee, where the Holocaust was discussed.
“We came to the conclusion that there was a real failure on the part of Jewish leadership during World War II,” says Rosenblum.
After exhausting their research on that topic, says Rosenblum, “we looked around and asked, ‘Is there a large Jewish population that’s under some threat today?’” Based on a few academic articles and books and the observations of Israeli diplomats who spent a good deal of time in the Soviet Union, the group honed in on Jews behind the Iron Curtain.
Three million Jews were living in the Soviet Union at the time and anti-Semitism was openly promoted by the government. The social action committee, which also included Herb Caron, Don Bogart, Dave Gitlin, West Temple Rabbi Dan Litt, and chairman Mort Epstein, read with horror about the 1953 “Doctor’s Plot,” where Josef Stalin, claiming Jewish doctors were poisoning patients, ordered them sent to Siberia or executed.
Caron closely followed the ongoing Economic Crimes trials, in which Jews were blamed for the economic failures of the Soviet Union. He learned about synagogues closing and blood libel riots in Moscow suburbs.
“It appeared to be a prelude to a mass roundup,” says Rosenblum. “One-third of world Jewry was in jeopardy. The whole thing would have ended in another massive tragedy.”
The small but committed group had their issue. To their surprise, however, no one else was taking up the cause.
“So we got into the business,” says Rosenblum.
The Cleveland Committee on Soviet Anti-Semitism (CCSA) which later became the Cleveland Council on Soviet Anti-Semitism, began as a non-sectarian, inter-religious, inter-racial entity. Cleveland Mayor Ralph Locher served on the honorary board of directors. Abe Silverstein, head of NASA-Lewis Research Center, joined later as honorary chair.
Despite the local heavy- hitters behind CCSA and the evidence they amassed, few in the organized Jewish world took the Soviet problem seriously … at least, not at first.
Frustrations
At the height of the Cold War, relations with the Soviet Union were so tense, the fledgling committee was admonished on all sides to leave these matters to professional diplomats.
Rosenblum writes in his 2007 monograph, “Among national Jewish organizations, there was no absence of knowledge on the plight of Soviet Jewry; what was lacking was consensus on who should lead and what should be done n a stalemate.”
Locally, Caron tried to enlist the Jewish Community Federation of Cleveland.
“Federation saw us as this group of adolescents who knew nothing about foreign affairs trying to intervene,” says Caron. He would deliver monthly updates to the Community Relations Committee on the Soviet situation and make suggestions for interventions, but the plans languished.
while deeply moved by the plight of Jewish Soviet Jews, national and local religious leaders, were adamant in holding to shtadlonus, quiet diplomacy.
Caron tried to recruit the charismatic Rabbi Abba Hillel Silver to rouse the public. “He (thought) we were exaggerating the difficulties (of Soviet Jews.) He said he had spoken to officials, and we could look forward to this blowing over in the natural course of events.”
Park Synagogue’s Rabbi Armond Cohen cautioned the agitators would make the situation worse, while Rabbi Arthur J. Lelyveld of Fairmount Temple was more involved at the time in the struggles of black Americans.
The West Temple group’s research continued. A contact at the Israeli consulate delivered a weekly packet of Russian press materials in translation, and Caron and the others spent hours every week reading anything related to Soviet Jews.
“I almost lost my job at Case Western Reserve University because I was spending eight hours a day on this,” says Caron, then an assistant professor of psychology.
“I felt desperation at the lack of understanding of those around us saying, “This isn’t going to happen,’” he adds. “That’s what they said about Hitler in 1933.”
Two possible outcomes seemed obvious to the committee: cultural and religious obliteration of Soviet Jews or a campaign of anti-Semitic pogroms and forced resettlement to Siberia.
The West Temple group persisted in shouting its concerns to anyone who would listen, and they developed projects to recruit other action groups. (See sidebar.)
Gaining Momentum
In March 1965, CCSA and Federation jointly organized “A Community-wide Rally to Protest Soviet Anti- Semitism” at Cleveland Heights High School. More than 2,000 showed up to learn about Soviet Jews and join in efforts to secure their freedom.
The CCSA signed up 500 new members, thereby adding money and manpower to take on new projects.
Sitting in that cold high school auditorium, Aeda and Marvin Warshay of Shaker Heights learned about the deprivations of Soviet Jews and were truly moved by the presentations of Caron, Rosenblum and Litt.
“Those three deserve a tremendous amount of credit,” says Aeda Warshay.
The Warshays were particularly amazed at the hostilities faced by the CCSA.
“We met with the American ambassador to Israel, who told us (agitation) might result in a worse crackdown,” says Marvin Warshay.
“That sha-sha quiet diplomacy turned out to be wrong.”
Marvin Warshay and Rena Blumberg established a foreign anti-Semitism committee of the Federation, meeting at the Warshay home. “We were a grass-roots committee working with the establishment,” says Marvin. “That wasn’t the case in other cities.”
When Martin Luther King Jr. spoke downtown, Bogart and Warshay assembled a large display in the lobby of the hotel and passed out their literature. King stopped by and “Don asked him to mention it in his speech, and he did,” recalls Marvin.
When Soviet cultural groups, such as the Moscow Philharmonic or ballet companies, toured, CCSA members would present the group with a petition of concern for Soviet Jews. They hit on the technique of standing in front of the theater, offering theatergoers a copy of the petition and a printed piece resembling a Playbill, explaining the situation of Soviet Jews.
By 1966, “thanks to our projects and publications and national involvement,” writes Rosenblum in his monograph, Federation adopted a position agreeing on the importance of CCSA’s work. While not adopting the cause, Federation did support and fund some specific projects.
Mindful of American Jews’ weak response during the Holocaust, the CCSA and like-minded groups springing up in other cities were unwavering in their efforts to prevent a second tragic outcome involving one-third of world Jewry.
ebrown@cjn.org
Projects from the CCSA
The Cleveland Council on Soviet Anti-Semitism implemented every kind of campaign it could think of to build awareness about the difficulties faced by Soviet Jews. These included:
Editorials and op-ed pieces in the Plain Dealer and The Cleveland Press.
Slide show presented to Jewish and even some Christian groups.
Letters to celebrities and politicians asking them to talk about rights for Soviet Jewry.
Handouts and color posters for display in synagogues and JCCs.
“Handbook for Community Action on Soviet Jewry” distributed to every Hillel in the U.S. and Canada.
Protest seals to be posted on letters. The CCSA sold 400,000 sheets.
Buttons reading “I AM my brother’s keeper.”
Medallions imprinted with the name of a prisoner of conscience.
The Spotlight, mimeographed newsletter (1965-69) distributed to other activist groups and newspapers all over the country.
“Before Our Eyes,” a 15-minute film, illustrating plight of Soviet Jews.
Packages of kosher food and Jewish materials mailed to refuseniks.
Greeting cards reading “Happy Passover. We have not forgotten you” in several languages.
Rallies and annual freedom runs designed to embarrass the USSR.
This grass-roots effort involving Jews and non-Jews all over America resulted in the emigration of more than one million Soviet Jews.
Activists from Beth Israel-The West Temple on Cleveland’s West side, where the international movement to free Soviet Jews began, dispute that timetable. Their campaign, they say, began in October, 1963, with the establishment of the Cleveland Committee on Soviet Anti-Semitism (CCSA). Ahead of politicians, diplomats and the Jewish establishment, this handful of Clevelanders was raising awareness and training other groups long before 1967.
By April, 1964, there was enough grass-roots attention to organize an American Jewish Conference on Soviet Jewry in Washington, D.C.
Researching modern history
In 1961, Dr. Louis Rosenblum, a scientist at NASA and then president of the small congregation at Beth Israel-The West Temple, formed a social action committee, where the Holocaust was discussed.
“We came to the conclusion that there was a real failure on the part of Jewish leadership during World War II,” says Rosenblum.
After exhausting their research on that topic, says Rosenblum, “we looked around and asked, ‘Is there a large Jewish population that’s under some threat today?’” Based on a few academic articles and books and the observations of Israeli diplomats who spent a good deal of time in the Soviet Union, the group honed in on Jews behind the Iron Curtain.
Three million Jews were living in the Soviet Union at the time and anti-Semitism was openly promoted by the government. The social action committee, which also included Herb Caron, Don Bogart, Dave Gitlin, West Temple Rabbi Dan Litt, and chairman Mort Epstein, read with horror about the 1953 “Doctor’s Plot,” where Josef Stalin, claiming Jewish doctors were poisoning patients, ordered them sent to Siberia or executed.
Caron closely followed the ongoing Economic Crimes trials, in which Jews were blamed for the economic failures of the Soviet Union. He learned about synagogues closing and blood libel riots in Moscow suburbs.
“It appeared to be a prelude to a mass roundup,” says Rosenblum. “One-third of world Jewry was in jeopardy. The whole thing would have ended in another massive tragedy.”
The small but committed group had their issue. To their surprise, however, no one else was taking up the cause.
“So we got into the business,” says Rosenblum.
The Cleveland Committee on Soviet Anti-Semitism (CCSA) which later became the Cleveland Council on Soviet Anti-Semitism, began as a non-sectarian, inter-religious, inter-racial entity. Cleveland Mayor Ralph Locher served on the honorary board of directors. Abe Silverstein, head of NASA-Lewis Research Center, joined later as honorary chair.
Despite the local heavy- hitters behind CCSA and the evidence they amassed, few in the organized Jewish world took the Soviet problem seriously … at least, not at first.
Frustrations
At the height of the Cold War, relations with the Soviet Union were so tense, the fledgling committee was admonished on all sides to leave these matters to professional diplomats.
Rosenblum writes in his 2007 monograph, “Among national Jewish organizations, there was no absence of knowledge on the plight of Soviet Jewry; what was lacking was consensus on who should lead and what should be done n a stalemate.”
Locally, Caron tried to enlist the Jewish Community Federation of Cleveland.
“Federation saw us as this group of adolescents who knew nothing about foreign affairs trying to intervene,” says Caron. He would deliver monthly updates to the Community Relations Committee on the Soviet situation and make suggestions for interventions, but the plans languished.
while deeply moved by the plight of Jewish Soviet Jews, national and local religious leaders, were adamant in holding to shtadlonus, quiet diplomacy.
Caron tried to recruit the charismatic Rabbi Abba Hillel Silver to rouse the public. “He (thought) we were exaggerating the difficulties (of Soviet Jews.) He said he had spoken to officials, and we could look forward to this blowing over in the natural course of events.”
Park Synagogue’s Rabbi Armond Cohen cautioned the agitators would make the situation worse, while Rabbi Arthur J. Lelyveld of Fairmount Temple was more involved at the time in the struggles of black Americans.
The West Temple group’s research continued. A contact at the Israeli consulate delivered a weekly packet of Russian press materials in translation, and Caron and the others spent hours every week reading anything related to Soviet Jews.
“I almost lost my job at Case Western Reserve University because I was spending eight hours a day on this,” says Caron, then an assistant professor of psychology.
“I felt desperation at the lack of understanding of those around us saying, “This isn’t going to happen,’” he adds. “That’s what they said about Hitler in 1933.”
Two possible outcomes seemed obvious to the committee: cultural and religious obliteration of Soviet Jews or a campaign of anti-Semitic pogroms and forced resettlement to Siberia.
The West Temple group persisted in shouting its concerns to anyone who would listen, and they developed projects to recruit other action groups. (See sidebar.)
Gaining Momentum
In March 1965, CCSA and Federation jointly organized “A Community-wide Rally to Protest Soviet Anti- Semitism” at Cleveland Heights High School. More than 2,000 showed up to learn about Soviet Jews and join in efforts to secure their freedom.
The CCSA signed up 500 new members, thereby adding money and manpower to take on new projects.
Sitting in that cold high school auditorium, Aeda and Marvin Warshay of Shaker Heights learned about the deprivations of Soviet Jews and were truly moved by the presentations of Caron, Rosenblum and Litt.
“Those three deserve a tremendous amount of credit,” says Aeda Warshay.
The Warshays were particularly amazed at the hostilities faced by the CCSA.
“We met with the American ambassador to Israel, who told us (agitation) might result in a worse crackdown,” says Marvin Warshay.
“That sha-sha quiet diplomacy turned out to be wrong.”
Marvin Warshay and Rena Blumberg established a foreign anti-Semitism committee of the Federation, meeting at the Warshay home. “We were a grass-roots committee working with the establishment,” says Marvin. “That wasn’t the case in other cities.”
When Martin Luther King Jr. spoke downtown, Bogart and Warshay assembled a large display in the lobby of the hotel and passed out their literature. King stopped by and “Don asked him to mention it in his speech, and he did,” recalls Marvin.
When Soviet cultural groups, such as the Moscow Philharmonic or ballet companies, toured, CCSA members would present the group with a petition of concern for Soviet Jews. They hit on the technique of standing in front of the theater, offering theatergoers a copy of the petition and a printed piece resembling a Playbill, explaining the situation of Soviet Jews.
By 1966, “thanks to our projects and publications and national involvement,” writes Rosenblum in his monograph, Federation adopted a position agreeing on the importance of CCSA’s work. While not adopting the cause, Federation did support and fund some specific projects.
Mindful of American Jews’ weak response during the Holocaust, the CCSA and like-minded groups springing up in other cities were unwavering in their efforts to prevent a second tragic outcome involving one-third of world Jewry.
ebrown@cjn.org
Projects from the CCSA
The Cleveland Council on Soviet Anti-Semitism implemented every kind of campaign it could think of to build awareness about the difficulties faced by Soviet Jews. These included:
Editorials and op-ed pieces in the Plain Dealer and The Cleveland Press.
Slide show presented to Jewish and even some Christian groups.
Letters to celebrities and politicians asking them to talk about rights for Soviet Jewry.
Handouts and color posters for display in synagogues and JCCs.
“Handbook for Community Action on Soviet Jewry” distributed to every Hillel in the U.S. and Canada.
Protest seals to be posted on letters. The CCSA sold 400,000 sheets.
Buttons reading “I AM my brother’s keeper.”
Medallions imprinted with the name of a prisoner of conscience.
The Spotlight, mimeographed newsletter (1965-69) distributed to other activist groups and newspapers all over the country.
“Before Our Eyes,” a 15-minute film, illustrating plight of Soviet Jews.
Packages of kosher food and Jewish materials mailed to refuseniks.
Greeting cards reading “Happy Passover. We have not forgotten you” in several languages.
Rallies and annual freedom runs designed to embarrass the USSR.
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