A New Chapter for Croatia’s Jews
by Musia Kaplan – chabad.org
Vladamira’s life changed forever at a playground in Zagreb. She was playing with her young son and daughter when she spotted an anomaly: A visibly-Jewish man with a beard and kippah, watching his children run around and play at the same park.
“I had never seen a rabbi before,” Vladimira recalled. “It felt like time stopped. I desperately wanted to go talk to him. I wanted to tell him that I was a Jew too. But I was too afraid.”
Vladimira is part of a generation of Croatian Jews still haunted by the trauma of the Holocaust. Her mother was only three years old when her family was murdered by the Nazis—she survived because her non-Jewish father obtained false identity papers for her. Vladamira was baptized as a child, and her mother’s words always rang in her ears: “Don’t tell anyone that you are Jewish. You never know when something might happen. Antisemitism hasn’t disappeared.’”
Vladamira might have spent the rest of her life keeping her secret had she not seen Rabbi Pini Zaklas, director of Chabad-Lubavitch of Croatia, at the playground that day. She went home and couldn’t stop thinking about it. She searched Rabbi Zaklas on Facebook and friended him. It took an entire year for her to gather the courage to meet up in person.
“I told him I don’t know what it means to be a Jew,” Vladamira said. “I was scared I might make a mistake, embarrass myself, or offend someone.”
Rabbi Zaklas assured her that she didn’t need to be anyone but herself. The doors to Chabad of Croatia, which the rabbi directs with his wife, Raizy, would always be open and she could come whenever she felt ready.
Slowly, Vladimira began joining Shabbat dinners, attending Torah classes, and connecting with her Jewish identity. Today, Vladimira works as the administrative assistant at Chabad, doing everything she can to help revive Jewish life in Croatia.
“I pitch in with everything on an as-needed basis. This week the cook is out of town, so I’m helping Raizy cook for Shabbat,” Vladamira said. “What I appreciate most about this place is that it functions like a big family. When I go to work, I feel like I am coming home.”
Putting Down Roots
Rabbi Pini and Raizy Zaklas moved to Croatia in 2004 to establish the first Chabad center on “the land of a thousand islands.” Coming from their native Israel, a place where Jews are a majority, not a tiny minority, it took time for them to come to terms with the fear and secrecy of the Jewish community there.
“We spent the first decade just earning their trust,” said Raizy. “We had to put our grand ambitions aside and choose an individualized approach, fostering relationships through one-on-one meetings at coffee shops. Sometimes we felt disheartened at the slow pace of growth here, and worried we weren’t making progress. But I see in retrospect that we were putting down roots—just because they’re invisible, it doesn’t mean they’re not growing.”
After 12 years of steadfast dedication to the Jewish community, Chabad of Croatia was thriving. There weren’t enough seats at the Zaklas’s table for all the people who wanted to join Shabbat dinner. High Holiday services no longer fit in their apartment, so they had to rent a local hotel. The need to expand was obvious.
In 2016, the Zaklas’s purchased a five-story building in the center of Zagreb. Since then, it has become the spiritual center of Jewish life in the country. It’s a place where hundreds of weddings, brittim, bar and bat mitzvahs, and holiday programs take place annually. It’s a place where more than 3,000 Croatian Jewish men, women, and children find connection with G‑d, their heritage, and each other. And it’s a place where thousands of tourists visit each year, to join Shabbat dinner, pray in the synagogue, and meet fellow Jewish travelers.
Most of all, it’s a place where Croatian Jews are no longer hiding, but can be strong, proud, and unafraid.
The Mikvah’s Protection
In 2019, Chabad of Croatia took a historic step towards revitalizing Jewish life in the country by building the first mikvah [ritual bath] since the Holocaust. Because Zagreb is a city built on a high water table with significant underground water sources, this was no simple endeavor. “In order to dig a natural well without risking the integrity of the building, the entire foundation of the building had to be reinforced,” Rabbi Zaklas explained. “But we decided it was a worthy investment.”
It turned out to be more than just that.
Just a year after the mivkah was built, a 5.3 magnitude earthquake hit Zagreb. Buildings came tumbling down, thousands lost their homes, and the mayor declared a state of natural disaster. Thankfully, the Chabad house in central Zagreb was spared and became a safe space—and temporary shelter—for many of those who had lost everything.
Weeks later, when a city inspector came to examine the center, he noted that the structure of the building was extremely sturdy. Rabbi Zaklas explained that when they built the mikvah they had to strengthen the foundation. “Rabbi, that ‘spa’ kept your building from collapsing!,” the inspector replied.
A Bright Future
“When we first came here, our primary focus was the older generation—caring for Holocaust survivors and their children,” Raizy said. “Today, there is a burgeoning young generation of Jews. We have children in Hebrew School. Young moms joining women’s events. College students attending Torah classes. We are constantly adapting to meet their needs, and thank G‑d, the future looks bright.”
Despite the explosive growth and radical transformation of their community over the last two decades, the Zaklas’s have remained loyal to their tried-and-true approach: Building meaningful relationships, one person at a time.
Dan Levy is a medical student from Tel Aviv studying in Zagreb. “When I arrived in Croatia, I didn’t know anyone,” he said. “The first week, I didn’t do anything besides attend classes and mope. I called my mom, and she said, ‘What about Chabad?’ So I immediately went online and found Chabad of Croatia.”
Dan messaged Rabbi Zaklas and received a response less than a minute later. “Here’s my number. Call me.” They spoke on the phone and met the next day.
“From that moment on, I was never alone,” Dan said. “Rabbi Zaklas told me, ‘I’m here with you, whenever, wherever, and however you need me.’ And that’s what happened. He became like my second dad.”
On Oct. 7, 2023, Dan was home in Tel Aviv on a break from school. The next morning, he got a call from the Be’er Sheva hospital saying they needed anyone with medical training to come help. “It’s a scene I’ll never forget,” he said. “Blood everywhere. Family members screaming. Injured victims and terrorists. When you’re in scrubs, people look at you like you should know what to do. But there is nothing in the world that can prepare you for that.”
Dan spent the next two weeks in and out of the hospital, caring for the wounded. When he returned to Zagreb, he felt like a different person. “In some ways, I was depressed, and I am still working through that darkness. At the same time, I have never felt more clearly what it means to be a Jew.”
The Zaklases saw the change in Dan and many of the other Israeli medical students in Croatia. They were searching for something they could do that would provide solace to the students while honoring the victims of the attack.
Rabbi Zaklas called Dan a few months after Oct. 7. “We want to dedicate a space in the Chabad house for Jewish students and name it Be’eri,” he said. “Dan, can you help us make this happen?”
Dan’s answer was a quick and unequivocal “Yes.”
And so the Be’eri Study Center was born—a collaboration between the students and the Zaklases. The basement of Chabad of Zagreb was transformed into a coffee shop, with walls of bookshelves, large tables for studying, and plenty of outlets for charging laptops. “I’m actually coming from there right now,” Dan said over the phone. “It’s always full. You have to text a friend before to find out if there’s an available seat. Sometimes, in between studying and homework, we’ll go upstairs to pop in the synagogue and pray. It gives us hope.”
