My grandparents, Avram and Esther Kovalevsky (z”l), were born in the Ukrainian city of Zolotonosha – not far from Kharkov. My grandmother (a brilliant woman) received her MA in history from the University of Kharkov- not a small feat. As a Jewish woman, she was prohibited from attending classes. She studied on her own and passed all her exams with high honors. My grandfather received his MBA in Germany from the University of Leipzig.
After returning from his studies abroad, Avram married
Esther in the early 1920’s. They hoped to build a home and raise a family in
the city of their birth, but after a series of violent, anti-Semitic pogroms in
Zolotonosha, they fled Ukraine on foot – journeying for several months until
they arrived in Leipzig to begin a new life in a “civilized” country where they
thought Jews would be safe.
My grandfather started a business selling wholesale hosiery
and soon was very successful. My mother, Sophia Kovalevsky, was born in Leipzig
in 1926. The Kovalevsky’s, despite their education and economic status, were
never accepted by their German neighbors. They were considered foreigners- “Ostjuden” (Eastern Jews) who were ostracized by the German Jews who snubbed them and the general
populace who were raised on the Jew-hating mother’s milk that paved the way for
Hitler's ascension to power.
After the rise of Nazism, my grandparents’ dream of a safe haven fell apart. The Kovalevsky’s would have to flee again. Since they were not German citizens, their Soviet passports, in an ironic twist, saved their lives. In December of 1938, shortly after Kristalnacht – the “Night of the Broken Glass,” they left behind their comfortable life in Leipzig and came to America. By that time, the number of German refugees admitted into the United States was miniscule. The blatant anti-Semitism of the State Department prior to WWII has been well documented. The only reason they were able to get a visa was due to the fact that no one was able to leave the USSR, and quotas for Russian Jews at that time were not filled.
I share this small piece of my family’s history while the
world watches as Russia invades Ukraine. The names on my
television screen of the cities currently under bombardment: Kharkov, Kyiv, L’vov,
and others are familiar to my ears. My grandmother – never one to wax nostalgic
or dwell in the past - would, on rare occasions, share happy stories of her
childhood in Zolotonosha with my sister and me. Despite the anti-Semitism that she endured and
the horrors she witnessed, it was clear that she deeply loved her birthplace and the life she left behind.
She never quite fit in anywhere else - whether in Germany or the United States.
My story is not unique. Many American Jews trace their history
back to the former Pale of Settlement – the lands set aside for Jews to live in
poverty and constant danger from official anti-Semitism and the murderous pogroms caused by rampaging Cossacks and other
Jew-haters. Most of my mother’s family was murdered in Ukraine – both by
Hitler’s forces and willing local collaborators. The graves of my ancestors
bear witness to the horrors of our history.
To see these cities now prominently displayed as they face
the brutal onslaught of Putin’s overwhelming force brings a variety of
emotions. The fact that Ukraine now has both a president and a prime minister
who claim Jewish ancestry, as well as the fact that just a few months ago the
Ukrainian Parliament passed a law outlawing Anti-Semitism is a remarkable turn
of events. Add to this the obscenity of Putin’s “anti-Nazi” ravings. Currently, there are over 200,000 Jews living in Ukraine. Compared
to the 1.6 million murdered in the Shoah, this is a small number. And yet, this place that destroyed my family has
now become a symbol of resistance to totalitarianism and a victim of megalomaniacal
greed.
As we watch in horror as innocent people are slaughtered,
let us strive to learn from our history. Totalitarianism and demagoguery pose
real dangers to us all. As people who strive to live in peace, we also have
learned the painful lessons of the past. If we do not call out atrocity –
wherever it lives – we forsake both our birthright and our sacred
responsibility towards all of who are created in God’s image.
If you would like to help support the Ukranian Jewish community, consider donating to one of the following organizations:
Jewish Colorado Fund for Ukraine: https://www.jewishcolorado.org/jewishcolorado-ukraine-emergency-fund/
The World Union For Progressive Judaism: https://wupj.org/give/ukraine/
Natan - an Israeli disaster relief NGO working with Doctors on the ground in Poland - helping Ukrainian Refugees: https://www.facebook.com/NATANAID/
Pray for the peace of Ukraine.
Pray for the lands of our ancestors.
May sanity be restored before it is too late.
Beautiful post. I remember your grandmother so fondly.
ReplyDeleteThis is Karyn Grossman Gershon
DeleteRabbi, Thank you for sharing this story on this sad day. Mark Newhouse
ReplyDeleteRabbi Black, Thank you for so eloquently sharing your family's history, and our shared history as Jews. I am always profoundly grateful for your legacy of leadership and inspiration. Peace, Pam
ReplyDeleteThank you Rabbi for your meaningful words. My heart is heavy for us all. Jackie Frazin
ReplyDelete