Reviewing: “They Were Fighters: Oral Histories of Jews Leaving the Soviet Union” by Yanina Kisler. Elevator Pitch Publishing, December 5, 2024. Paperback. 359 pages. ISBN-13: 979-8991509404.
Having covered the historical and geographical physical terrain of Russia in my own work, I was curious to find out if I missed or was inaccurate with anything, or if there was something new (or old) that I could learn by reading oral histories of Jews who left the USSR. Prior to reading this book, I knew very little about the Soviet Jewish flight from the USSR, except for some 1980s-era catchphrases such as glasnost and perestroika. In the ’80s there was some light information in newspapers about personalities involved in advocacy for Soviet Jews, such as Rabbi Avi Weiss and Natan Sharansky, but I was too young to be fully involved in the American fight for Soviet Jewry. The book title also looked interesting (Who are “They,” and what were they fighting?).
Yanina Kisler, in an impressive debut work, sets about cataloguing the harrowing realities of close to 120 people who finally decided that they’d had enough of the hellish experience that was the Soviet Union and its attitude towards the Jews, and she does so in a unique and interesting way. She notes that these were “ordinary people” who shared a common goal of wanting to leave the “workers’ paradise,” pursue freedom and raise their children away from the bright light of government oversight. An imprimatur of authenticity accompanies the manuscript because she herself is an escapee. (“I emigrated from the Soviet Union in 1977 when I was a teenager.”) Interestingly, every person she interviews is identified under a pseudonym.
Kisler holds a master’s degree in electrical engineering from MIT and worked as an engineer for 35 years. She also coached an elementary school math team for 20 years, with her students being U.S. champions for most of that time. This is her first foray into book-writing.
The author started with an expressed wish to know more about the people who left the USSR as a group, in terms of demographics. “Some people have written memoirs of their experiences in the Soviet Union, and they are interesting but very personal. They do not really talk about population trends and motivations. I did a literature search before starting the book, and I did not find anything that collected stories from, or gave statistics for, this group of Jewish emigres as a whole. For example, mostly people assumed it was antisemitism that drove people to leave, but I discovered that the truth was more complex and interesting.”
Selecting from detailed interviews of the subjects, Kisler presents moments of people’s lives that illustrate how their experiences shaped their views of Soviet society and their place as Jews in it, documenting the emigres’ path to finally reach the decision to leave their home countries. Most interviewees emigrated between the late 1960s and late 1980s, but a small group of those who emigrated in the ’90s were also included to document the changing motivations of those who left after the USSR dissolved.
For those who know this history well, this is a valuable document to review and to transmit to those who can draw lessons from critics of the USSR. For those who do not yet know, this book is highly valuable to bring one up to speed, as it duly did for me. There is a lot of information here to springboard from to learn more. For example, “In the USSR, not being employed for more than three months was a crime: parasitism.”
Many of those who departed had requested an exit visa multiple times, and had been systemically demoted and punished by those in the Communist Party for expressing a wish to leave. Inexplicably, when many finally were granted permission to emigrate, it was often because they had something—perhaps an apartment —that someone in the Communist Party wanted.
The personal histories reveal many things that are shocking to learn. The level of overt and punitive antisemitism in Soviet society—an off-hand comment by a bus passenger: “It’s a pity we did not get all of you. But that’s OK, we will get you still,” was not uncommon—made me check the book cover in case I was reading another book about the Nazi era and I realized, nope, we’re talking about the Soviet Union, and decades later at that. Abrupt disappearances and jailings of protesters are reminiscent of the Nazi regime’s dastardly pre-Final Solution activities—and they come at you full force in a constant, shocking, upsetting barrage. The hatred Jewish people faced (“I did not want to be called zhid anymore.”) is disconcerting and terrible here, in every era Kisler covers.
Also surprising is the stark uniformity of experience. There’s a commentary brewing beneath the surface everywhere about the injustice of Communism that creates a homogenous, dull, backbreaking reality for everyone subject to it. I don’t know if the author meant to highlight this, but it stood out in stark relief for me.
One of the most interesting things about the book is Kisler’s addition of the history of the Jews of the USSR. “History that I learned in the Soviet school had … how do I say it … no relationship to reality. I had to research everything in the history section of the book, including the life of Jews in Europe and in the Russian Empire, and all the amazing and appalling events that led up to the creation of the USSR.
“Putting together all this information was truly eye-opening. I intended the history section to be the background against which the emigrants’ stories were told, but since then, I have heard from many immigrants who told me that they found the history section to be very new to them and very interesting,” Kisler said.
There is an admirable bit in her manner of styling the story. All interviewees are anonymous, because fear pervades forever from the Russian sphere of influence. Uniform questions are asked of all subjects. She pulls off the clever trick of being omnipresent, but not really there. Autobiographical information is scant and vague—she dedicates only one paragraph in the introduction explicitly to her story. She is nevertheless everywhere. Her imprint is large.
Interviewees were asked about how they view their legacy. Regrets were recorded, such as, “My daughter has only a very surface understanding of events in the world. My son got involved with Communists.”
On this latter point, it is quite alarming to hear that—to a person—nearly all interview subjects regret not discussing politics with their children. One said, “There is a fear of the U.S. becoming another version of the Soviet Union.” It’s true that one can’t understand something they haven’t been taught or told. That is a hard lesson, and an important lesson.
And that is what the author has done here. This was a big job. By soliciting the stories she has unwrapped and unfolded, she hopes our younger generations would listen, really listen to the grown-ups who are telling, really telling, in the hopes that perhaps, finally, history might not repeat itself.
A labor of love of over two years, a gigantic trove of material was laid out in front of Kisler, and she has brought a spotlight to an era in history that deserves to have a grand light shine on it.
Martin Bodek is the author of 13 books, including Zaidy’s War, a biography of his grandfather’s service and survival in Europe having served in four armies. He is also the author of The Jewish Link’s weekly beloved “Cuff Link” column. His sixth parody haggadah, “The Dad Jokes Haggadah,” just launched. Reach out to him for book talk opportunities at martinbodekbooks.com.
