NOTE: This extraordinary story comes from Arguable by Jeff Jacoby, an opinion writer for the Boston Globe, on December 12, 2023. I’m sharing it with all of you because even in the worst of times, even with the least of resources, if we have faith in God, we can be a light unto the world.
In his transcendent prison memoir, “Fear No Evil,” Natan Sharansky tells the story of his nine years in the Soviet gulag, a fate to which he was sentenced for the crime of wanting to emigrate to Israel. Even now, 35 years after it was published, it is an amazing read, a great narrative by a great man who refused to be intimidated by his captors. The more the KGB tried to berate or punish him for his Jewish pride and Zionist yearning, the more joyfully and fearlessly Sharansky embraced them.
To mark this week of Hanukkah, consider this extraordinary incident recounted in “Fear No Evil.”
Sharansky was in the Siberian prison camp of Perm 35 and Hanukkah was drawing near. Intent on observing the holiday as best he could, Sharansky had a menorah constructed from some wooden scraps. A few candles were found, and each evening Sharansky lit his menorah, reciting the blessing, and describing to his fellow prisoners — none of them Jewish — the story of the Maccabee rebellion long ago. On the sixth night of Hanukkah, the authorities confiscated his menorah and candles. When he demanded to know why, a prison guard claimed that the menorah was made from “state materials” and therefore illegal.
Sharansky declared a hunger strike. “In a statement to the procurator general,” he recounts, “I protested against the violation of my national and religious rights, and against KGB interference in my personal life.”
Two days later, Sharansky was summoned by Major Osin, the prison camp warden. Osin wanted the refusenik to call off his protest before the expected arrival of an inspection committee. In that case, Sharansky said, “Give me back the menorah, as tonight is the last evening of Hanukkah.” He promised to end his hunger strike if he was allowed to light the candles.
But a protocol for its confiscation had already been drawn up, and Osin couldn’t back down in front of the entire camp. . . . I was seized by an amusing idea.
“Listen,” I said, “I’m sure you have the menorah somewhere. It’s very important to me to celebrate the last night of Hanukkah. Why not let me do it here and now, together with you. You’ll give me the menorah, I’ll light the candles and say the prayer, and if all goes well I’ll end the hunger strike.”
Osin thought it over and promptly the confiscated menorah appeared from his desk.
When Sharansky said he needed eight candles, Osin took a knife and cut the candle into eight stubs. Then, with amazing audacity, Sharansky said that the ceremony required everyone present to stand with head covered, listen to the blessing, and answer “Amen.”
Osin complied. He stood behind his desk, donned his major’s cap, watched as Sharansky kindled his eight candle stubs, and then waited for his prisoner to recite the blessing. Speaking in Hebrew — which Osin, of course, did not understand — Sharansky recited a blessing he had composed himself: “Blessed are you, O God, for allowing me to light these candles. May you allow me to light the Hanukkah candles many times in your city, Jerusalem, with my wife, Avital, and my family and friends.”
Then he had a brainstorm.
Inspired by the sight of Osin standing meekly at attention, I added: “And may the day come when all our enemies, who today are planning our destruction, will stand before us and hear our prayers and say ‘Amen.’ ”
“Amen,” Osin echoed back. He sighed with relief, sat down, and removed his hat.
Sharansky writes that he returned to his barracks “in a state of elation.” Who can doubt it? What magnificent chutzpah! What a triumph of the spirit! And what an uplifting reminder that even in the depths of the gulag — even in a time and place filled with the enemies of Jewish faith and freedom — those who refuse to fear can turn the table on their oppressors and dispel the darkness with a candle’s light.
he illuminates the weapons with which the powerless can humble the powerful: physical courage, an untiring sense of humor, a bountiful imagination, and the conviction that “Nothing they do can humiliate me. I alone can humiliate myself.”
Hachette Books: Use HOLIDAY23 for 20% off site wide until 12/31. (Order by 12/13 to get your gift under the tree!)
This link also has links to other retailers. Price is set by publisher.
https://www.publicaffairsbooks.com/titles/natan-sharansky/fear-no-evil/9780786723249/
Joy, peace, and light,
Cornelia
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