A Free Man in Labor Camp

 

By Shmuel Eidelman

 

Excerpted with permission from www.toldosyeshurun.org.

In his book titled “Sichos Al HaTorah,” Rav Yitzchak Zilber recounts celebrating the festival of Pesach fifty years ago in the work camp located in the central Russian city of Kazan . The official explanation for his arrest was illegal trade in government bonds.

In jail his task was to draw water for the camp. In order not to desecrate Shabbos, he took upon himself the entire job of supplying water and did not divide the work among other prisoners. On Erev Shabbos he would carry water until sunset, and from three-o-clock on Shabbos afternoon, after the water that he had stored on Friday was finished, he would ask a non-Jewish prisoner to bring water, for pay.

When Pesach appeared on the horizon Rav Zilber started to plan his preparations for the festival. He firmly decided that even in imprisonment he would not eat chametz on Pesach. Not all the Jewish prisoners shared his opinion. Among the prisoners were several members of Yevsectzia,’ the Jewish communist party. They were sworn to fight Judaism to the bitter end, and were possessed by a ferocity that would not shame even the non-Jewish communists. Rav Zilber tried to convince them. “I am not promising that you will get out of jail early,” he said to them, “but I promise that you will not lose anything by not eating chametz.” This was not an easy matter to arrange: bread was distributed in the camp in meager amounts that did not satisfy the prisoners’ hunger.

Elijah the Prophet as a Tatar Police-Chief

The difficult task of obtaining matzah flour was taken on by his wife (who has since passed away). She stood in line for many hours with her two small children and obtained fifty-five pounds of flour. In order to obtain such an amount she had to stand in several places in order not to arouse suspicion. She had to bake the matzos in hiding, because someone who was caught baking matzos was sent to jail. She baked the matzos, put them on her sled, and started walking home. A Tatar policeman stopped her and asked what she had on the sled. She answered that she was bringing cakes for the birthday party of her daughter, but the large amount did not convince the policeman and he whistled for help. A Tatar police-chief arrived. After the two men exchanged a few sentences the police chief waved his hand to her, signaling her to go. She later told her husband that Elijah the Prophet had appeared to her in the guise of a Tatar police-chief.

She broke the matzos into little pieces that were designated as ‘teacakes,’ and she brought them wrapped in a package. Rav Zilber saw to it to acquire potatoes as well from some of the camp’s known thieves. The question of where to cook was yet unsolved, as was the question of where to find cooking utensils. He managed to find a pot and cleaned it with snow and sand. A prisoner named Mishka Kosov, who held the other prisoners in terror, approached him. Rav Zilber knew Kosov as the leader of the gang of thieves in the camp, and a complete non-Jew. Suddenly Kosov began to speak to him in Yiddish: “I see that you are making efforts not to eat chametz,” he said to him. “I also am a Jew; I will be with you too.” Kosov continued to surprise Rav Zilber. He took out a hundred rubles, gave them to Rav Zilber, and asked him to send the money to his wife to buy kosher chicken for Pesach.

Finding a place to cook also required creative thinking. The prisoner responsible for heating in the camp was a terrifying man. He would sell toast to the prisoners. Over the course of several days Rav Zilber bought toast from him and thereby developed a relationship. In return for some potatoes, he got permission from him to use the stove for cooking.

A Seder in the Clinic, and Raisin Wine

The main thing that worried him was that the food they had prepared for Pesach would be stolen. For each eight prisoners there was a little cabinet divided into compartments, but experience had shown Rav Zilber that it was impossible to leave anything valuable there. The night he arrived at the camp they stole his shoes, and the second night they cut a piece out of his winter coat. From then, until he was released from jail three years later, he slept with all his possessions in hand. Here Mishka Kosov surprised him again. He gathered all the thieves and informed them: “For eight days it is forbidden for you to ‘ask’ anything from Yitzchak Zilber. Whoever does not obey will find himself headless.” The warning proved effective.

The camp physician, a Jew who had a non-Jewish wife, also agreed to cooperate. He gave the Jews access to the clinic on Seder night. “We sat and spoke and I said over words of Torah; we did everything properly,” recounts Rav Zilber. “If I fulfil HaShem’s mitzvot properly, then I am a free man. We taught the prisoners to say ‘Pesach, Matzah, and Maror.’ Also Mishka Kosov was there, and he really liked the wine made from raisins,” he laughs. It was a true feeling of freedom.

On the eighth day of Pesach, the second day of Yom Tov as is kept in the Diaspora, there were no matzos left. Hunger increased. One of the prisoners said to Rav Zilber: “I can’t wait any longer. In Israel they are already eating chametz. I want to as well.” Someone recalled that on the last day of Pesach the Yizkor prayer is recited, and asked Rav Zilber to recite the prayer with him so he would not eat chametz before he prayed for the souls of his departed parents. A different Jewish prisoner, member of the Yevsectzia party that had closed down the synagogue in his town and sent the town’s mohel to jail, and who on Pesach did not even bother to eat matzah, asked Rav Zilber to recite ‘Yizkor’ for him. His parents had warned him not to dirty their names by reciting it with his own mouth. After the prayer the prisoner took out butter and salted fish that he had received in a package. “Whoever did not eat chametz on Pesach may eat,” he announced. Rav Zilber said that he remembers the taste of that butter to this day.