Connecting the past with the present

The New Kaliningrad Synagogue was built on the exact same spot as the building of the New Synagogue of Königsberg, which stood until 1938. Photo: Paulina Siegień

Natalia moves with purpose and without even making eye contact, she indicates for me to wait – one more minute, five more minutes. Finally, she comes over to me and we go to see the building from the inside. It is just two weeks before the official opening, but nothing seems finished. The walls are bare concrete.

“The construction took some five years, but the most active phase has been in the last year and a half,” she says to me. Is she tired? No, this is a joyous event! Will they make it? Yes, they must, because the opening cannot be postponed. It will take place on November 8th. It is almost on the anniversary, but short one day. November 9th would be on a Friday so the opening could not take place then – even anniversaries of historical events cannot interfere with the holy Sabbath.

Old, new Synagogue

The New Kaliningrad Synagogue was built on the exact same spot as the building of the New Synagogue of Königsberg, which stood until 1938. The events which took place 80 years ago are known to us thanks to various memoirs. Rabbi Aba Dunner, son of the last orthodox rabbi in Königsberg (before the Second World War, Königsberg was a German city; after the war, it was claimed by the Soviet Union and renamed Kaliningrad – editor’s note) remembers his parents’ recollections of a sinister silence in the afternoon of November 9th. Nehama Drober, another living representative of Königsberg Jews, remembers how she and her parents looked at the burning synagogue from their third floor apartment. There was a knock on the door and her father was arrested. A classmate of hers, Michael Wieck – author of the book A Childhood under Hitler and Stalin: Memoirs of a “certified” Jew – was at home on November 10th as his parents did not let him go to school. When they finally let him leave the house, his legs took him straight to the synagogue. He stopped, deeply moved with what he had seen; a ten-year-old boy in front of the ruins of the temple. The Kristallnacht in Königsberg was similar to that of many other German towns. The Nazi militias destroyed Jewish shops, magazines and offices. They knocked on the doors of Jewish families and arrested the men. The destruction of the synagogues was turned into a kind of ceremony. In Königsberg they burnt the Torah scrolls with the sounds of the Nazi “Horst-Wessel-Lied” – the informal anthem of the Third Reich – played on the synagogue organs.

The New Synagogue was not even half a century old at the time. It was located on Lindenstrasse, the other side of the royal cathedral on the Kneiphof Island, and opened in 1896. The largest synagogue in Königsberg housed the liberal Jewish community. At the time it was one of the largest in Germany, after Berlin and Breslau. The prayer room had organs.

The ruins of the New Synagogue stood throughout the war until 1944 when Allied bombing flattened the area, known in today’s Kaliningrad as “old Königsberg”. Michael Wieck, years later, reminisces in his book about the sight of the burnt synagogue after the Kristallnacht: “Only a few years later Königsberg looked exactly like this and, if you wanted to, you could see this as God’s judgment. I couldn’t,” he wrote.

Wieck is right. The destruction was not a form of justice; the building is. In 2011, the Foundation for Building a Synagogue in Kaliningrad was established, and a cornerstone was laid on the plot where the pre-war synagogue previously stood. The initiator of the project and the patron of the foundation was a Kaliningrad businessman named Vladimir Katzman. He was the main sponsor of the project to the very end. Officially, he donated nearly 3.5 million euros, but the word on the street of Kaliningrad is that he donated twice that amount. What is certain is that he financed 90 per cent of the construction. The remaining donations were provided by more restrained supporters.

Vladimir Katzman is the owner of a restaurant chain and has assets in retail trade. In Kaliningrad he is known for his support of culture. He finances artistic events and organises the Kaliningrad City Jazz Festival. He came to the city as an adult in 1992 from Chechnya. He once met a shaman in Kaliningrad who told him that his ancestors lived there a few generations ago, claiming that they came to Königsberg from Germany and Hungary, on their way to Belarus. This was his place and where he should live. Katzman believed the shaman’s words and decided he would leave something behind in Kaliningrad. Today, he can rejoice with the finished project and a prize from the Federation of Russian Jewish Communities – the Fiddler on the Roof – as a token of respect for his work for the Jewish community in Kaliningrad.

Strength of the spirit

The day of the opening was a typical November day in the city on the Baltic Sea coast: cold, not frigid, but still humid and foggy. The fog settled around noon, when a large crowd gathered in front of the building on Oktyabrskaya Street. The ceremony proceeded as planned. The Torah scrolls were inaugurated, a mezuzah was placed at the door. A cantor was singing. Katzman and the chief rabbi of Russia, Berel Lazar, held a press conference. The whole event had an open character, and after a few speeches the crowd that had gathered could enter and view the synagogue from inside. A kosher banquet was prepared for the guests.

“Today is proof that the strength of the spirit is invincible. When a synagogue is opened, it isn’t just a place of prayer that is opened. It is also a place where people can congregate, feel safe and study the Torah. It is a house of prayer, but also a house of good deeds. The atmosphere we feel today in Kaliningrad and in Russia, gives us an opportunity to do good. History teaches us that the line between hate and crime is very thin. This is why we have to do everything we can so our children and grandchildren grow up in a different world. I wish you happiness and all the best. I am sure that this temple will be a blessing for the entire city and that the atmosphere of friendship and understanding will become a basis for the life of all people. This is the only way we can ensure the events that happened in Königsberg will never repeat themselves,” said Lazar during the event.

The construction of the synagogue took several years, including a few breaks. Most of this time was taken up by court proceedings against a circus located on the same plot of land. The management of the circus did not want to leave, basing their defence on a decree by Vladimir Putin supporting the circus arts. Later there were some conflicts with the local administration as well. Finally the building began to take shape.

Visible flashback

Last year, when the dome of the synagogue was lowered onto the building, it became clear the synagogue would radically change the urban landscape. The view can be enjoyed from the perspective of the hill, where the House of Soviets stands. The two high points basking in the sun – the cathedral tower and the solid dome of the synagogue – are a visible flashback of Königsberg in Kaliningrad. In this sense, the New Synagogue is a notable attempt, as many in the city still dream about rebuilding the pre-war cityscape. The synagogue is the first pre-war building in the city to be rebuilt from scratch since the war.

Many would still disagree that it is really a reconstruction. The Kaliningrad synagogue has the same features as the Königsberg synagogue, but it is easy to spot some differences, even at first glance.

“Rebuilding it on the same scale was impossible. The plot is narrower. This is why the building itself is narrower and 10 meters shorter than the original. However, it retains the same proportions,” Lorens explains to me.

The façade of the building is covered with stripes in a Moorish style. Not everyone agrees with the decision. Many say it is kitsch. The pre-war synagogue was entirely made of red brick. Lorens says the finishing of the façade was made this way because of the change in dimensions of the building. The decoration from outside makes it look less stubby. Despite the fact the Kaliningrad synagogue is smaller and narrower than the Königsberg one, it would be difficult to say it is a miniature. During its opening, Viktor Shapiro, head of a number of Jewish initiatives in the city, worried how the community will fill such an impressive structure with life.

“According to the latest census, in 2010, there were some 1,100 Jews [in the Kaliningrad oblast]. Mostly elderly people, some probably deceased by now. The estimates say around 2,000 people, but then a follow-up question arises – who is a Jew? Most of the families are mixed, so ethnically speaking it is a defunct category, at least in Russia. Those with an identity that is based on religion, the followers of Judaism are a handful. There are more people who have an indirect connection with the Jewish world. For example, people who have Jewish ancestry, relatives in Israel, an interest in Judaism and Jewish culture, people who show up during Jewish events. These estimates – 2,000 Jews in Kaliningrad – could be justified.”

Michael Wieck left Königsberg together with his mother in 1948, after it was renamed in honour of Mikhail Kalinin by the Soviet authorities. In his book, he described this moment as the last chapter in the history of the Königsberg Jews. At the same time, he knew very well that there were Jews among the Red Army soldiers and officers. Just as there would be displaced Soviet Jews that would arrive in Kaliningrad. In the late 1950s, there were some 5,000 people identifying as Jews in the region. A decade later, this number declined, but not as much as it did in the 1990s when half of the remaining 3,000 left. The Kaliningrad Jews would often leave for Israel or join their families abroad (especially in the US). Those who remained were people like Viktor Shapiro, whose family came from Ukraine and found its way to Kaliningrad after spending some time in Belarus. They took advantage of the glasnost and began discovering the Jewish part of Kaliningrad’s history. Earlier on this was impossible as the Soviet rulers made it a taboo to study its pre-war history. There was no access to archives and sources. The border was closed.

Dialogue with history

In the 1990s, everything changed. Kaliningrad was visited by its pre-war inhabitants and this is how Viktor Shapiro came to know Michael Wieck, Nehama Drobner and Abu Dunner – who came in 1997 with his father.

During the opening ceremony of the synagogue, Katzman frequently emphasised the fact that this was the New Kaliningrad Synagogue. At the same time, it was an attempt to construct a dialogue with history and mend something that was broken. The connection between the pre-war and post-war Jewish communities could not have been more obvious.

“The synagogue being opened on the 80th anniversary of the Kristallnacht is a symbolic reinstatement of historical justice,” Shapiro said.

The impressive building of the New Synagogue has become quite a challenge for Kaliningrad Jews. It will take months, or even years, before we can say this challenge is met. It is also a great opportunity. Viktor Shapiro hopes the synagogue will attract more than just Jews. Lorens is sure that having their own temple, the Jewish community will be reinvigorated.

“When I built Catholic churches in Kaliningrad – my father was a German Catholic and my mother was Jewish, so I have also built Catholic temples here as well – they all asked why? How many Catholic people are there here? Today they are all full.”

Translated by Daniel Gleichgewicht

Paulina Siegień is a journalist with Gazeta Wyborcza and is based in Gdańsk. She writes about Polish-Russian neighbourhood, the Kaliningrad Oblast and general Russian developments.

Kaliningrad