Russians Help Shape German Life

Individually painted dominos fall in front of Brandenburg Gate along the former route of the wall in Berlin on Nov. 9, as part of celebrations marking the 20th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall.

Berlin
One of the most remarkable transformations in Europe since the fall of communism is the return of Jewish life in the country that generated the Holocaust.

Until the fall of the Berlin Wall 20 years ago last week, postwar Jewish life in Germany was "more a museum piece than something living," explained Kuf Kaufmann, who emigrated here from Russia in 1990, and now heads the Jewish community in Leipzig. "Today, it is very lively -- socially, religiously and culturally." In 1989, Germany had only about 30,000 Jews. Then the doors to the east opened, and about 220,000 people of Jewish lineage from the former Soviet republics poured in, about half of whom were Jewish by matrilineal descent, according to a new report by the Central Council of Jews in Germany. The immigrants sought economic opportunities and an escape from anti-Semitism, and they chose Germany over Israel.

In all, about 90,000 of the immigrants registered as members of Germany's Jewish communities, quadrupling the country's pre-1989 Jewish population.

Lala Suesskind, president of Berlin's Jewish community, sees in the immigrants parallels to her parents' experience as refugees from the Soviet interior in 1947.

"At first, they did not feel great because they did not speak the language. And then they got jobs, and then they joined the Jewish community, and then their children decided, 'This is my town,' " said Suesskind.

"It is the same with our people arriving today," she said. The older generations may have trouble adjusting, but their children and grandchildren "are all part of our Jewish life in Berlin."

The influx of immigrants ended in 2005, when Germany adopted new rules on immigration that made it more difficult for would-be immigrants. The move came in part due to pressure from Israel, which saw Germany as a competitor for immigrants from the former Soviet Union.

While the immigration has transformed Germany's Jewish community, it also has brought with it the need for more rabbis, outreach to the unaffiliated and questions about how to deal with Russian immigrants who are not Jewish according to halachah, or Jewish law, but want to be part of the Jewish community.

'No Room for Pessimism'
In Germany, as in most of Europe, even Reform congregations adhere to Orthodox halachah when it comes to the question of who is a Jew.

"We have to learn from them, to better understand them," Rabbi Joel Berger, the former chief rabbi of Wurttemberg, said in the report issued by Germany's Jewish umbrella group. "We have to work together actively to preserve our traditions. There's no room for passivity and pessimism."

Some worry that Germany's Jewish institutions are failing to ensure that the numeric boost to the Jewish community will be enough to ensure a future threatened by assimilation.

Ukrainian native Renat Fischbach has lived in Germany since 1990; he's a member of a Jewish youth center and founded a debating club there.

"Cultural identity cannot last more than one generation," said Julia Itin, 24, who came to Dortmund from Odessa, Ukraine in 2000, after first going to Israel. "They have to add in a bit of religion, in any form," she says; otherwise, many "will be lost to the Jewish people."

Itin, now a college researcher and teacher, has become involved with Jewish causes, volunteering for the Limmud Jewish educational festival in Germany.

Similarly, Renat Fischbach, 28, who arrived from Czernowitz, Ukraine in 1990, discovered a Jewish youth center, and later founded a debating club for Jewish youth called "Jewbating."

Fischbach said that he "always felt more aligned with the smart Russian kids than with the established German families. And in 10 years, these are going to be the minds who lead the community."

Sipping tea at the Baku cafe in Berlin, Svetlana Agronik, who coordinates Russian social and educational programs for Berlin's Jewish community, recalls how she came here in 1991.

"Life had been good, but suddenly, there was no bread," she said. "We took a vacation to visit friends, and I did not return to Russia for 12 years."

Agronik said that she asked: "Am I really lucky? These Germans killed so many Jews. But for my daughter, I had to do it."

Boris Vainrib also has mixed feelings. His first preference was to live in Israel, where he landed a good job after emigrating from Russia in 1990. But then came the Persian Gulf war, and Iraqi Scud missiles started raining down on Ramat Gan.

He said that his family fled to Germany, where they were among 300 Israelis given refugee status at the time.

Vainrib, now the owner of an electronic-goods store, said that he felt "morally better in Israel. But Germany is calmer."

Read more about Russian-Jewish community in Leipzig