Slow, But Steady Israel's absorption of nearly 500,000 Soviet immigrants has been difficult. But signs of success are evident. Photo by G. Fe in b la tt/Me dia INA FRIEDMAN ISRAEL CORRESPONDENT A typical settlement of caravans in Israel. irah! Dirah!" (Apartment! Apartment!) was the chant that greeted Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin when he vis- ited the Nahal Beka'a mobile home camp outside Beersheba on a sweltering day last week. If adopting a nation's standard of demands and style of protest is any sign of successful integration, then the immigrants from the former Soviet Union (FSU) can certainly be said to have undergone rapid absorption in Israel. But of course the picture is far more complex. As it enters its fifth year, the drama of the mass influx of Jews from the FSU seems to have receded into the back- ground of Israeli life. The initial novelty and excite- ment of enriching the national melting pot with a refreshing new ingredient — educated, professional, and for the most part "Western" (or at least Ashkenazi) Jews — have worn off. In their place, has come a more sober assessment of the impact that the new- comers are having on Israeli life and to the long-term task of helping them estab- lish themselves in new lives — and not necessarily the ones they bargained for. Close to half a million immigrants have come to Israel from the FSU in the past four years. The peak year was 1990, when more than 185,000 people flooded into the country. Since then the trend has been down- ward: 148,000 arrived in 1991 followed by a precipi- tous drop to 64,000 the fol- lowing year, though a slightly higher number is forecast for 1993. The decline resulted from the immigrants bumping up against the hard reality that, as a small country boasting limited opportuni- ties (and plagued by an already high rate of unem- ployment), Israel could quickly absorb only a limit- ed number of professionals offering a restricted range of skills. The medical professional is a prime example. More than 9,000 Soviet physicians came to Israel between 1989 and the end of 1992. (The number of physi- cians per capita among the Soviet immigrants was nine times as high as among the Israeli population, which was already the highest ratio in the world.) More than half of these doctors passed the necessary licens- ing exam, but many have still found it difficult to find jobs. The rest simply had their careers cut short or at least rerouted onto a lower level. The number of engineers in Israel doubled during the Of the 170,000 families that have immigrated from the former Soviet Union, some 95,000 still live in temporary housing. same three-year period, with 50,000 such newcom- ers (between 20-and-25 per- cent of the incoming work force) entering the job mar- ket. And the number of artists, musicians, and teachers in the arts was similarly far out of propor- tion to Israel's size or needs. The result — even after the creation of tens of thou- sands of new jobs and the institution of courses to help people acquire new special- izations — is that 75 per- cent (165,000) of the new immigrants are currently employed in some job. But only between 30 percent (according to the Soviet Zionist Forum) and 60 per- cent (according to the Absorption Ministry figures) are working in their profes- sions. Hardest hit from this standpoint is the population aged 45 and over. The grim fact is that for many people in this category, the early tales of surgeons and profes- sors sweeping the streets until they could find suit- able positions have become a permanent condition. Having failed the licens- ing exam, Leora Makadinsky — a divorced 44-year-old internist from Moscow who has been in Israel for two-and-a-half years and shares a two- room mobile home (known as a caravan in Israel) with her 17-year-old daughter — is reconciled to the fact that her medical career is over. Determined to remain upbeat, however (or at least not show her distress), she takes pride in having been promoted from chamber- maid to secretary (part- time) and quietly aspires to return to one of the "people- helping professions." Meanwhile, her priorities lie elsewhere. "The big problem is how to get out of this caravan — which is suffocating in the SOVIET page 56