Baking Matzah Under Fire in Ukraine
by Mendy Wineberg – chabad.org
When Rabbi Yaakov Stambler hit on the idea to make a handmade shmurah matzah bakery in Dnepropetrovsk, Ukraine, in 2002, it seemed like a perfect fit.
The city, today known as Dnipro, was home to Ukraine’s largest Jewish community, and his son Mayer had been living there as a Chabad-Lubavitch emissary since 1992. On top of that, Ukraine’s abundant wheat supply ensured access to high-quality ingredients, while labor costs made production more affordable compared to American and Israeli matzah. And the final ingredient was the city’s storied history of producing handmade shmurah matzah made it an appropriate place for such a venture, which would also help support the local community.
Indeed, within a few years, the Tiferes Hamatzos bakery was employing close to 100 people, producing many tons of matzah, and shipping it to the United States, Europe and Israel.
Demand was so high that the younger Stambler, who has managed Tiferes Hamatzos since his father’s passing in 2010, opened a second factory in Uman, in central Ukraine, in 2021.
But the Russia-Ukraine war that erupted in February 2022 changed everything.
The Russian Navy blockaded all shipping in and out of Ukraine, immediately creating a crisis for the final shipments of matzah sitting in the port of Odessa that year. Many Ukrainians, including Jewish community members—among them those who worked at the bakery—fled as fears of a Russian invasion gripped the city.
As the battlefront spread deeper into Ukraine, wheat fields in the Zaporizhia region that had long been relied on for the special, “guarded” wheat used in shmurah matzah were too dangerous to be accessed. Regular power outages caused by missile, bomb and drone attacks on Ukraine’s infrastructure hampered the bakery’s efforts to produce matzah.
Stambler knew he needed to improvise—and fast.
The History of Matzah in Dnipro
The Torah mandates that shmurah (“guarded”) wheat be used for matzah. This means the wheat must be carefully monitored from the moment it is ready for harvest to ensure it does not come into contact with water or any other element that could cause it to become leavened. The guarding process ensures the matzah remains free of chametz, making it suitable for fulfilling the mitzvah on Passover.
To ensure this, multiple cautionary steps are taken. The harvesting is timed specifically to avoid any moisture from rain; the combine used for processing the wheat needs to be specially cleaned for Passover; the grinding is done with a special mill—Tiferes Hamatzos uses a custom-made stone mill, produced in Italy, because metal can “sweat” from humidity and cause condensation to mix with the flour; and then the ready flour needs to be stored in a specially-cleaned and temperature controlled facility.
Intimately connected with the modern story of Ukrainian matzah is its history: Rabbi Levi Yitzchak Schneerson, father of the Rebbe—Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory—served as chief rabbi of what is now Dnipro, and sacrificed his life to ensure the Jews of the region had kosher matzah in the Stalinist era.
In 1939, at the height of Stalin’s terror and in the midst of a severe flour shortage, Rabbi Levi Yitzchak was approached and asked to give kosher certification to the Passover flour, which would then be sent to communities around the country for use in baking matzahs.
The Rebbe often repeated the story of his father’s resilience in the face of pressure. “Since it was needed for Passover, they wanted the certification of the chief rabbi that it was kosher for Passover,” the Rebbe told a group of children in 1984. “ … My father answered that he would gladly take upon himself this responsibility, but with one condition which is self-understood: that if he gives his certification that the flour is kosher for Passover, he needs to be certain by appointing his own supervisors who will ensure that the wheat milled into flour is kosher, with no water, and that the whole milling process is also free of water.”
Since the extra kosher precautions Rabbi Levi Yitzchak insisted on would incur additional expenses by the government-owned mills, the city government accused the venerable rabbi of being a saboteur. The Rebbe explained that his father “answered them that in accordance with the [Soviet] constitution and in accordance with his conscience, and in accordance with the conscience of every normal person, if he gives his certification that something is kosher, he must be certain of it, and no one could force him to write that which is against his conscience.”
Hearing this, the officials suggested that if he wanted to make any changes, Rabbi Levi Yitzchak ought to take it up with the proper authorities in Moscow.
So the rabbi traveled to Moscow, where he succeeded in meeting with the Soviet Union’s head of state, Mikhail Kalinin. Through Kalinin’s intervention, Rabbi Levi Yitzchak’s kosher flour and matzah production took place unhindered that year.
Many Jews of the Soviet Union celebrated their people’s freedom from Egypt with kosher matzah thanks to Rabbi Levi Yitzchak, but his fate was different. Eight days before Passover, Rabbi Levi Yitzchak was arrested by the NKVD—the beginning of a saga that would end five years later, when he passed away ill and frail, exiled in faraway Kazakhstan.
Years later, Rebbetzin Chana Schneerson—Rabbi Levi Yitzchak’s wife and the Rebbe’s mother—wrote of the matzah story in a bittersweet voice: “It cost him much of his own health to ensure that other Jews would enjoy the festival. He himself, however, would experience no Passover holiday joy of his own. By then, he was already under lock and key. For the eight days of Passover, he managed with just water and the small package of matzah he had taken along with him.”
The Rebbe’s Father’s Legacy Continues
Inspired by the Rebbe’s father’s determination to ensure matzah was available even in trying times, and with his usual wheat fields inaccessible, Stambler has been forced to find new Ukrainian farmers in other parts of the country who will cooperate with the parameters of Passover law.
“Finding the right area with the proper conditions was extremely difficult in the beginning of the war,” said Stambler. “Luckily, we had a supply of flour from the previous year that saved us until we were able to begin producing flour at new farms.”
To combat the unceasing blackouts and keep production going, Stambler’s team acquired industrial generators. While costly and difficult to maintain, these generators have become a lifeline for the bakery, keeping the ovens running and matzah rolling out despite the war’s disruptions.
As the blockade continues with no signs of letting up, trucking the matzah to the nearest ports in Romania or Poland, a journey of at least 600 miles, is the only way to ship the precious cargo overseas—a factor that has added significant cost and time to the project.
“We used to be the most inexpensive option for handmade shmurah matzah,” Stambler said ruefully, “but the cost of trucking and shipping is almost double what it used to be, contributing to a list of factors that has forced us to raise our prices to about equal the price of Israeli matzah.”
Convincing employees to come to work, despite the understandable fear of Russian bombs falling on them, is a struggle. Compounding this fear is the worry of getting drafted by Ukraine’s depleted army, which is desperate for new recruits, and at times takes even those with military exemptions.
While Dnipro has not been hit with the same ferocity as other Ukrainian cities closer to the front, its large population and industrial importance make it a prime target for Russian attacks, which have been increasing in frequency in recent weeks.
“The sirens go off at all times of the day,” said Rabbi Reuven Kaminezki, who grew up in Dnipro and recently moved back as a Chabad emissary to help serve the community. “Our systems aren’t so sophisticated, so even if a missile is targeting somewhere far from the city, the sirens sound. You get used to hearing them all the time and just go on with your day.”
Civilian areas are not spared the carnage. Just a few weeks ago, Stambler’s daughter’s family was forced to vacate their home in Dnipro on Shabbat after a bomb, which thankfully didn’t explode, landed nearby.
Despite the challenges, the bakery has managed to meet demand. This year, the two bakeries in Dnipro and Uman will be shipping out a whopping 300,000 pounds of matzah, or 150 tons, about half of which goes to the United States.
The growth in popularity of round, handmade shmurah matzah can be traced back to 1954, when the Rebbe began a campaign to distribute this traditional matzah to Jews all over the world. As the network of Chabad emissaries grew, so did the annual matzah distribution. Jews who had just a short time earlier not even known of the existence of shmurah matzah started to rely on it for their seder, forming new family customs.
Today, far from being a niche product, handmade shmurah matzah can be found in national supermarket chains such as Costco, Pathmark, Jewel-Osco, Albertsons and Stop & Shop. Stambler has seen the numbers grow even since he began running his father’s bakery, Tiferes Hamatzos more than doubling its output since 2015.
Besides being an important mitzvah on Passover, there is a special significance to the matzot eaten at the Seder. In the sacred texts of the Zohar, matzah is called meichal d’meheimanuta—“the bread of faith,” and meichla d’asvata—“the bread of healing.” By eating matzah on the night of the Seder, the Zohar explains, a Jew is afforded an extra dose of physical healing as well as spiritual faith to last the entire year. In light of this teaching, special emphasis is placed on eating matzah that is of the highest quality, and handmade shmurah matzah is the best you can get.
“The Rebbe really changed the world on this issue,” Stambler says. “He encouraged his emissaries to ensure that every Jew in their community has handmade matzah for the Seder, and it has really caught on. Today, people are seeking out our matzah from all over the world.”
He is especially proud of a product that his bakery innovated—a mini-sized matzah dubbed “the kezayit matzah.” These small packages contain one or three matzahs, depending on the order, that is just the right size to fulfill the basic requirement of eating matzah on the Seder night.
Stambler’s matzah even has some high-profile fans, including the president of Ukraine, Volodymyr Zelensky, who is Jewish. “He loves the taste,” said Stambler, “and he is proud of the fact that it is being produced right here in Ukraine.”
As the war grinds on and a ceasefire remain elusive, one thing is for certain: The Jews of Dnipro will once again be crunching on their homegrown matzah at the Passover Seder, hoping for a brighter future with the words from the Haggadah: Leshanah haba’ah biYerushalayim—“Next year in Jerusalem!”
