Rebbetzin Chana’s Memoirs: Shaalos from the Haftorah
In this 21st installment of the series, Rebbetzin Chana describes how agents of the NKVD (secret police) would infiltrate the synagogues disguised as pious Jews, and try to gather incriminating information on their unsuspecting fellows.
“Queries from the Haftorah”
By Shavuot, my husband’s health already was extremely poor. Nevertheless, he walked to shul, where he gave a lengthy sermon to the congregation, which I was told was very outspoken. The congregants relished his words, forgetting for a while in which country they were living and under what laws religious Jews were expected to live. They were carried away into a different world.
Yet they were all frightened of possible consequences. As unpleasant as this is to say—although it is one hundred percent true—almost wherever Jews gathered, especially in a place of worship, there was always someone among the worshipers who reported to the NKVD what he had seen or heard.
Sure enough, the same was true here. Soon thereafter, almost every day saw one or another of the shul’s active leaders being “visited” by NKVD agents. They employed various lines of questioning—one person was investigated concerning his business activities, while another was questioned about his residency documentation.
We, too, received such visits. The agents asked us “queries from the haftorah”—as the saying goes. It was apparent that the investigators were seeking something specific, although they didn’t reveal what it was. You can’t imagine the fright all this caused, and to what degree it strained our nerves.
By then my husband lay in bed most of the time, and he answered their questions from bed. At one such visit they took away our “passports.”
Since it was not advisable for my husband to present himself at government offices, I went to reclaim them at the passport department, taking with me materials to offer as bribes, if necessary. The female official there read the names on the passports and rendered them “kosher.” But we had to endure the dread of waiting for the officials’ final decision and the anxiety that perhaps our case would be reviewed by some other official who hadn’t yet received a bribe, in which case the decision could be utterly different.
This was the atmosphere in which we lived. Unfortunately, it was difficult to find anyone “who had not sinned” [by serving as a government informant]. Consequently, such NKVD “visits” always caused panic.
I’m reminded of an incident that happened after my husband’s arrest in 1939, when I was seeking his whereabouts. On one occasion I was visiting the office of one of the NKVD’s high-ranking officials. His office was adjacent to the kitchen and dining room where senior NKVD officials took their meals and received special food rations to take home. While waiting, I was surprised to see a certain person walking out of the kitchen, carrying his special food ration—available only to those working for the NKVD. Yet this person had celebrated Simchat Torah with us at our home, and had rejoiced together with everyone else present! As he passed by, he noticed me and looked away. I was moved [by his reaction].
Regardless of everything, my husband paid no attention to the intimidation, and spoke even more forcefully. After all the suffering he had endured, and after being utterly separated from other Jews, deprived of any opportunity to speak about Jewish religious subjects with others, he warmly embraced the opportunity to remedy what he had missed for so long. Indeed, he had a profound positive effect on his listeners, which gave him great pleasure.
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