A Time to Reflect: The Beginning of Babyn Yar Commemoration

Summer has faded into autumn here in Kyiv as daytime temperatures seldom push 60 and nighttime chill covers the city. Scarves are out, hats are on, and the leaves are beginning to turn. In many ways, this is my favorite time of year. Warm, cozy cafes beckon (Kyiv has no shortage) and — yes — it’s that time of year when I get to celebrate my birthday. Happy 23 to me!

It’s also around this time that the holiest days on the Jewish calendar are observed: Rosh Hashanah (the Jewish New Year), Yom Kippur (the Day of Atonement), and a number of other festivals and celebrations. The time from Rosh Hashanah (which begins at sundown on October 2) to the end of Yom Kippur (ending at sundown on October 12) are known as the Days of Awe. It is a time for introspection. While we’re not officially there yet on the calendar, I think now’s a good time to start and with that, reflect not only on myself but on the place in which I find myself and what that means at this time of year.

What I’m thinking about right now is Babyn Yar (or Babi Yar as it is commonly known from the Russian transliteration). Less than two weeks after Nazi forces began their occupation of Kyiv on September 19, 1941, they rounded up the Jews that remained behind -as many as 100,000 are estimated to have fled before the German advance – and executed their plan to annihilate them. From September 29-30, 1941, the Nazis marched the Jews of Kyiv to the Babyn Yar ravine in the northwestern part of the city and shot them – 33,771 people were executed over the course of two days. It was the largest single massacre in the history of the Holocaust. Over the course of the war, up to 100,000 people would meet their untimely ends at the ravine, including other Jews, Roma, Soviet prisoners of war, people with disabilities, homosexuals, Catholics – anyone on the Nazi’s death list.

The site and the events that occurred there remain an integral part of the history of Ukraine and particularly of Ukrainian Jewry. Under the Soviet regime, commemoration of the events at Babyn Yar was not tolerated. Acknowledging the victimhood of Jews in Ukraine was essentially non-existent on an official level. In 1961, Yevgeny Yevtushenko wrote a poem about Babyn Yar on which Dmitri Shostakovich based his 13th symphony. Both faced severe criticism for their work. The graves of the tens of thousands of innocent murdered souls remained neglected both physically and in official discourse.

The ravine at Babyn Yar, 2013. Photo by the author.

Jewish Memorial at Babyn Yar, 2013. Photo by the author.

Since the collapse of the Soviet Union, access to archives, reports, and witness testimony have revealed more about Babyn Yar and public commemoration has become common practice in Ukraine. This year is the 75th anniversary and a number of events have been planned. On a side note, this is not to say that commemorations today are not controversial — they are, in fact, loaded with controversy, especially given Ukraine’s often confusing political dynamics. There are a number of stakeholders involved in discourse on Babyn Yar and World War II in general. Ukrainian nationalism and patriotism play large roles in this conversation of remembrance, often minimizing the impact of Nazi atrocities on Jewish people and instead universalizing events at Babyn Yar. In today’s Ukraine, a country at war with Russia and trying to hold on to its sovereignty in the face of an aggressive neighbor, many national heroes who fought for Ukrainian liberation from the Soviets are lauded. Many of these figures worked with the Nazis as a means of resisting Stalin. The history of Nazi-Ukrainian cooperation in the deaths of Jews is a difficult one to discuss but is one that must be discussed. Otherwise, the fact that Babyn Yar was a site for the killing of Jews, simply because they were Jewish is lost in a narrative that instead seeks to universalize their deaths, thus obscuring the identities of the victims.

The Soviet Memorial to Babyn Yar. It is in a park near the ravine but not in the right location. Photo by author, 2013.

The official inscription on this memorial tells us that 100,000 citizens of the city of Kyiv were killed here. There is no mention of Jewish victimization or specific victimization of other groups. Photo by author, 2013.

For now, back to the commemoration events: this past Sunday, the National Philharmonic hosted a concert to memorialize Babyn Yar. My academic advisor, the head of the Jewish Studies department at Kyiv-Mohyla, was kind enough to give me a ticket. The concert featured a number of moving pieces, including works by the Israeli composer Baruch Berliner. His music weaved the reading of Biblical texts (including the story of Cain and Abel) into a score for choir and orchestra. In many ways, Babyn Yar is so difficult to talk about, so difficult to comprehend, that music provides a new medium to convey thoughts and emotions in a way that words cannot. I felt incredibly fortunate to be there. Other events will include a large youth conference to begin tomorrow (Saturday) evening, lasting through next week. An official state commemoration with a number of Ukrainian and foreign dignitaries is to take place on the 29th. I will be covering much of these events along with my Fulbright colleague from Kharkiv, Julie Seidman. I look forward to sharing more about all of that with you very, very soon.

Baruch Berliner addressing the audience with the National Philharmonic of Kyiv and the National Academic Choir of Ukraine “Dumka.” The concert was sponsored by the Israeli Embassy in Ukraine; note the two flags at the top right of the photo.

And now, I am going to turn this around completely.

I voted today.

I voted today in the 2016 Election for President of the United States. I went to the Fulbright Office, printed out my ballot, scanned it in and emailed it to the election board in New Jersey. What a time to be alive, and I don’t just mean in terms of technology.

An illiterate, authoritarian racist could be our next president. And no. Their name is not Hillary Clinton. His name is Donald Trump. Every morning, I along with millions of other people wake up in countries that were irreparably changed by a man whose political force was brought to power on a populist wave. That election, by the way, was not rigged unlike Trump’s claims that our upcoming votes will be miscounted.

I am not nor am I likely to become a permanent citizen of Ukraine but this feeling still affects me deeply as the descendent of people who fled these lands because of anti-Semitism. (And yes, I think Trump is an anti-Semite, despite the disgraceful faux-reassurance of his cowardly, son-in-law. Read further: Donald Trump and the Jews.) I look out the window every morning and I am reminded that every inch of this city and country bears the memory of the evils of Nazism. I am reminded that if my family had not left when they did, I would likely not exist. This history is alive. It is real. I am not suggesting that Donald Trump has any grand designs to commit genocide – he does not. He is not a fascist. He is not going to declare World War III (though whether or not he’ll start one anyway seems to be up in the air, frankly). Unlike Hitler, I am not really sure Trump has any plan other than to come to power. The point is, he plays on real social and psychological forces that lead to mass atrocity and crimes against humanity through other-ing and scapegoating. Do I really need to elaborate? Do I really need to remind you of the things this man has said and done to stoke deeper hatred and division in our country?

Hillary Clinton isn’t a perfect candidate. By any means. And we can have a lengthy discussion about how she is an establishment candidate who will perpetuate the status quo: a country riddled with inequality and strife. I have woken up to news nearly every day this week about another innocent black body ruthlessly murdered by police. Do I think Clinton is going to put a stop to that? I hope she’ll try but I am sure it won’t be enough to stem the tide of racism in our country. If anything, I am fearful for what we will do with Trump supporters should she become president. They aren’t going to just go away, and they certainly aren’t interested in protecting black bodies, allowing black lives to thrive, to show that black lives matter.

But if the status quo is so bad, why should we vote to perpetuate it? Because if Donald Trump becomes president, the status quo could become incontrovertibly worse. If you think we are struggling now, just wait until he finishes his first term. Any voice we have as a society to speak out against current injustices will be met with legislation   that further disadvantages marginalized groups, especially black and Latinx people. Instead of being able to hold a left-of-center leader accountable to a progressive platform, we will have a right-wing crackpot for whom progressive politics are totally anathema. Hillary isn’t the world’s most progressive candidate but she is certainly more amenable to positive change than her counterpart. He has the power to undo every executive order President Obama has signed into law, and then some. Under Trump, a new status quo would be a massive leap backward that would exacerbate our social ills, entrench the barbarism of a racist and isolationist America, and drive our country on a path of imminent decline.

Tomorrow, I am going to Babyn Yar. And when I look into the ravine, at the final resting place of those who were othered in a genocide, I will be thinking about the Holocaust, I will be thinking about my ballot, and I will be thinking about our future.  While we should not universalize the identities of victims of Babyn Yar, there is a greater message to be taken for the present when we consider how Babyn Yar came to pass.

He cannot win. He simply cannot.

 

 

Kyiv Jewish Fest 2016

As I get settled in Kyiv and fall into a routine, I am constantly looking for ways to engage with various Jewish community organizations or the practice of Judaism. While walking to an appointment with the International Students Coordinator at my affiliated school, Kyiv-Mohyla (or Mohylyanka as it is affectionately called here), I stumbled upon a flyer for a Jewish Festival. Fortunately for me, I was just in the nick of time – three days later, and I would’ve missed the festival entirely. And that would’ve been a real shame as it was held in beautiful Mariinsky Park, a mere 10 minute walk from my apartment in Kyiv’s Pechersky neighborhood.

I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect. After all, the event was to be held on a Saturday. A Jewish festival on the Sabbath? Really? As always, there was only one way to find out. So my friend Natasha and I headed to the park to see what it was all about.

Admission was free and included a bracelet as well as entry into a lottery with a grand prize of a free trip to Israel. I would’ve settled for a shot at a free meal at Tsimes, a restaurant serving Jewish cuisine in Kyiv’s Podil neighborhood (I recommend the cholent, just like bubbe’s), but I digress. Around the park, a number of different “zones” were set up to acquaint visitors with Jewish traditions and organizations and offer a variety of interactive activities (some of which were simply there for the sake of entertainment, like carnival games). For example, the stil’ zhizni or “Way of Life” zone offered presentations about Jewish holidays, with a special focus on the Sabbath and Rosh Hashanah, or Jewish New Year, which will be celebrated for two days beginning at sundown on October 2nd. A band played a number of songs and the emcees engaged in a round of Jewish holiday trivia as a means of teaching visitors about various religious practices. People genuinely seemed to be enjoying themselves. While there were plenty of folks in kippot, or traditional head coverings, indicating a strong showing on the part of Kyiv’s Jewish community, plenty in the audience appeared as though the festival was their first major interaction with Judaism.  I met lots of interesting people, including a woman from Kyiv whose father lives in Vineland, New Jersey. Go figure.

The backdrop in the above photograph is meant to represent a typical courtyard in Kyiv’s Podil neighborhood which was home to a large Jewish community before World War II. Now it is home to the Great Choral Synagogue, the Tsimes restaurant, and a number of other vestiges of Kyiv’s Jewish history. I spend a lot of time there as it’s where the university is located.

 A number of local Jewish organizations and clubs also used this part of the festival to advertise their various programs and activities. On the left, we have Beit Sefer, a group for studying Torah, and on the right, we have Moadim, a youth group that helps participants learn about Jewish holidays. In Ukraine, many people who are Jewish were not raised in religious homes. Freedom of religion did not exist in the Soviet Union and Soviet authorities frequently confiscated religious property as a means of discouraging worship and study. For example, Kyiv’s Brodsky Synagogue, located next to the Fulbright Office, was used as a puppet theater in the USSR.

A number of other booths and organizations advertised groups for people wishing to participate in a “couples course” on how to be a good Jewish husband or wife (note the clear gender binary). Oy! Pass. Another organization, Beit Yosef advertised itself as the perfect organization for “real men.” I was amused to wonder if I qualify or not, but I skipped it in any case.

For me, the real highlight of the festival was the Yiddishkeit concert.

Yiddishkeit is a word that describes something that is of a Jewish character or quality. This concert was no exception. The National Folk Orchestra of Ukraine (in Russian, Natsional’ny orkestr narodnykh instrumentov Ukrainy, literally: National Orchestra of Folk Instruments of Ukraine) played a number of traditional klezmer pieces. A female vocalist sang songs in both Hebrew and Yiddish, including some crowd pleasers like Hava Nagila. Did it feel kitschy? Sure. But the hundreds, if not thousands of people gathered at the outdoor amphitheater clapped and even sang along. A solo clarinetist and dance troupes dazzled. A bottle dance a la Fiddler on the Roof was a particular hit. So again, I stress that it was pretty kitschy but music provided an easy way for performers and festival-goers alike to celebrate Kyiv’s Jewish legacy.

One thing in particular stood out to me about this concert. The orchestra. The National Folk Orchestra of Ukraine. This is a musical group that exists to share and elevate Ukrainian culture. In the front row, you will note the use of the bandura, a large, lute-like stringed instrument that has been played in Ukraine for millennia. It is a distinctly Ukrainian symbol; I am not sure if it has ever been used in traditional Jewish music before. Perhaps it has. However, its immediate association is with Ukrainian culture. The same can be said about the outfits of the musicians. They are wearing vyshyvanky shirts, another distinct element of Ukrainian folk culture. And so it was that Ukrainian and Jewish culture joined hands on the stage Saturday afternoon. Musicians playing klezmer music on Ukrainian instruments. How about that?

So what’s the significance? I’m not entirely sure. Perhaps it is even insignificant. Regardless, I found it fascinating, even moving to see this blending of art forms. The coexistence of these cultures in Ukraine has gone on for centuries. Often, this coexistence has been fraught with tension and tragedy. This weekend, however, whether overdone or perfectly tasteful, Jewish and Ukrainian culture came together in perfect harmony at Kyiv Jewish Fest 2016.

 

****A note about the organization of this Festival****

Like an incompetent rookie, I failed to really delve into who was behind the organization of this festival. I did not see representatives of any of Kyiv’s main religious institutions present at the festival, though they may very well have been there. After all, I’ve barely been here two weeks and after my grant is over, who knows if I’ll have even scratched the surface of Kyiv’s (let alone Ukraine’s) Jewish groups. However, an article from last year named the organizers of 2015’s Jewish Fest as Kyiv’s Jewish Messianic Congregation and Jewish Voice Ministries International, another Messianic organization. I don’t know very much about Messianic Judaism but in short, Messianic Jews believe that Jesus is the Jewish Messiah. Hmmm. Apparently it is up for debate whether or not Messianic Judaism is a form of Christianity or Judaism. So was this a festival about Jews organized by Christians? Was it a Jewish festival organized by Jews who believe in Jesus? I’m not really sure. How does that complicate my observations about the interaction with Jewish and Ukrainian cultures? Is that interaction somehow tainted by this festival’s possible Messianic ties? How long has Messianic Judaism even been in Ukraine? These are questions I hope to be able to explore, perhaps later this year. It’s not something I was interested in researching before but could potentially be very interesting to investigate. In my own observation, however, I feel that the festival was a more or less positive experience from the standpoint of it being a form of engagement with Jewish culture and tradition for Jews and non-Jews alike. So it is in Ukraine. Clear as mud. Onward!