25 FOCUS etein 76 Ar ifizet4i dal 2 /' /co hope BY ELIE WIESEL Contributing Editor Dear Vladimir Slepak, I feel the need to write to you in order to urge you not to give up on us. I know: things around you don't seem to improve. On the contrary, the pressures on the Russian Jewish corn- munity become heavier and heavier. Threats, more and more real, strike more and more Jews whose only "crime" is to want to live as Jews. As in the time of the Ro- man occupation of Palestine long ago, the study and prac- tice of our ancient, immortal laws is punished by prison. In order to live as Jews, your friends must submit to perse- cutions and humiliations. The "refuseniks" are treated as pariahs. Isolated from soci- ety, deprived of work, they live in anguish and expecta- tion. How do they manaage, how do you manage, my friend, not to lose hope? For twenty years a deep bond has existed between us. For reasons outside our con- trol, we have never met; but we do know each other. You were present in 1965 at the time of my first trip to the USSR, and you are present in me today. Often, it is I who lose courage; I fight for you, I fight with all the means available to me, and, despite promises, despite "signs" given from time to time, nothing happens; you remain the prisoner of an oppressive, anti-Jewish regime. If you knew, dear Vladimir Slepak, how many times your friends here, myself included, have written petitions and re- quests to presidents, minis- ters, statesmen in order that they might intercede on your behalf at the Kremlin. Why were you singled out, why did they detain you longer than the others? Without doubt because you were the first, or one of the first, to teach Hebrew and Judaism, the first to organize courses and seminars for the young Jews of the capital, the first to present through study a powerful challenge to the dictatorship and its poli- tics of fear. Many "refuse- niks" saw in you an older brother, a spiritual guide. When they left for the air- port, exit visa in hand, you accompanied them to wish them bon voyage; and good- bye. You watched them leave, then you returned home. Such is the wish of the Krem- lin; to show you that your destiny is to remain behind always. Since you were the first to proclaim yourself free, you are condemned to be the last to set out for freedom. Yes, my friend, how do you manage to hold out? From where do you draw your cour- age, your faith? If, at least, I could assure you of the desire of our com- munities to continue to fight for you and your brothers, you would perhaps feel bet- ter, and so would I. Unfor- tunately, I can't do that. Why lie to you? Fervor among us diminishes continually. The enthusiasm which burst over us during the early '70s has yielded its place to an in- spid, unimaginative bur- eaucracy. Certainly our civil servants do their work. But it's not the same thing. Organizations cannot func- Slepak:' Many "refuseniks" see him as a spiritual guide. Photo courtesy of National Conference on Soviet Jewry tion without quarrels and in- trigues. Take, for example, the case of two organizations which exist here, both sup- posed to act on behalf of Rus- sian Jews. Relations between them are worse than strained. Only one of them was invited to the meeting of the "Presidium of the Conference on Russian Jews," held in Washington in early September. I am told that this meeting had its share of crises. Only ideological ones? Personality conflicts per- haps? Don't hold it against them; these Jewish leaders too thought and tried to do good. The Jewish people remain your ally—know that. Count on us. Will we be strong enough to influence Gor- bachev? Or to move our leaders so that they will do so? There are enough of us here and throughout the Jewish world to think of you constantly, to go to all lengths to help you. Oh, I know: we've been say- ing the same thing for twen- ty years; we will continue to say it. Are you aware of that? Sometimes I am no longer so sure. Here's another example. During the conference of the "Presidium" in Washington, a speaker asserted that the "refuseniks" had told him that I didn't answer their let- ters. Friends tried to assuage my anger: "Don't take this defamation seriously." But how can I be sure, dear Vladi- mir Slepak, that all your let- ters reach me? How can I be sure that all my answers ar- rive at their destinations? If one of your friends were seriously to believe that I am no longer concerned with his or her plight, that would drive me to despair. You know it, don't you, my friend? Not a single day goes by that I don't, in thought, join in your struggle — the most noble I know of — to keep alive the memory and the hope of our people. And on the evening of Simhat Torah, I will dance with you. I will sing with you, in front of the synagogue in Moscow, and we will watch together the thousands of young people, boys and girls, gathered from • all corners of their exile to assert their loyalty to the Jewish people, and together we will be proud of them and their courage. When I think of them, when I think of you, my friend, it is always the holiday of Simhat Torah which comes to my mind. It helps me to per- severe. That is why I write to you. To tell-you that, with all my might, I try to share your destiny. Because for Jews there is only one destiny. Translated from the French by Ann Stiller