TIME: Almanac 1993/TIME Almanac 1993.iso/time/011491/0114000.000

Text File | 1992-08-28 | 14.0 KB | 298 lines

                                                                                WORLD, Page 22

ISRAEL

A Tide of Hope


As 1 million Soviet Jews head for their new homeland, they
fulfill a Zionist dream but promise to transform the nation

By JON D. HULL/TEL AVIV -- With reporting by Robert
Slater/Jerusalem


    They are coming in droves, a tide of migration that does not
stop. Every few hours another El Al airliner wings into Ben
Gurion airport from transit points in Europe, bringing 2,000
or 3,000 or 3,500 Soviet Jews each day. Since Moscow
substantially eased exit rules in late 1989, the wave of
immigrants has brought 185,000 Jews to Israel, the most since
1949, when the country was one year old and Holocaust survivors
were fleeing the killing grounds of Europe. Before the flood
stops, it is expected to deposit 1 million people in Israel
(pop. 4.8 million), enough potential voters to change the course
of the nation's politics.

    It is a dream come true for Israel's Jews, who have feared
they would become a minority in Greater Israel, with the
Palestinian population growing so much faster than their own.
It is counted as blessed news by Prime Minister Yitzhak Shamir,
who predicts that most of the new Israelis will vote for his
hard-line Likud bloc. But it is a considerable headache for
Israel's economy, where housing and jobs are already in short
supply. And it is a nightmare to the Palestinians, who see the
influx as a new threat to their long fight for a state in the
Holy Land.

    Native Israelis are torn between their joy in welcoming so
many Jews to the country they consider their rightful home and
the high cost that the influx is exacting. Longtime residents
face stiff tax hikes, rent increases and competition for jobs.
The new arrivals are finding themselves in lines almost as long
as the ones back in the U.S.S.R. to obtain services from an
overwhelmed bureaucracy. Many of the immigrants are educated
far beyond the means of Israel's cramped economy to employ
them, and face an uphill challenge to find suitable jobs -- or
any jobs at all.

    But it is in the political realm that the wave of
immigration is likely to have its most profound impact. Already
Labor and Likud are vying for the allegiance of the newcomers,
and the outcome of their fierce political courtship could be
decisive for the Jewish state, determining whether it continues
on a collision course with its neighbors and world opinion.
Acknowledges Labor party leader Shimon Peres: "Soviet Jews may
decide which way the country goes."

    Moderates like Peres argue that the presence of so many more
Jews will give Israel the confidence to make sacrifices at the
negotiating table. But hard-liners view the influx as a
stunning victory in the demographic war against the
Palestinians -- and a mandate for a Greater Israel. Critics who
suggest that Shamir will be forced to negotiate with the
Palestinians once the Persian Gulf crisis is resolved may be
disappointed: the staggering migration could make Shamir largely
immune. If his government can house and employ the immigrants
without bankrupting the economy, the Prime Minister may be able
to mold them into ideological hawks, dragging Israel further
to the right and eliminating any hopes for a territorial
compromise.

    But the political leanings of the immigrants may not be so
monolithic. Of the 185,000 Jews who left the U.S.S.R. for
Israel last year, some did so out of religious fervor, some to
flee from anti-Semitism, many to escape hunger and civil
unrest. Nearly one-third of the estimated 3.5 million Jews
remaining in the Soviet Union are expected in Israel by 1992,
increasing the Israeli population 20%. For them Israel offers
the only readily available alternative, now that access to the
U.S. and Canada has been sharply restricted.

    For Israelis, who firmly believe there is safety in numbers,
the unprecedented infusion of highly educated citizens fulfills
the Zionist dream. "Israel faces the threat of war, tourists
have stopped coming, the U.S. Administration is less and less
friendly," says former refusenik Natan Sharansky. "And yet we
see hundreds of Soviet Jews arriving every day because they
have no other place to go." Adds Simcha Dinitz, chairman of the
quasi-governmental Jewish Agency responsible for bringing the
newcomers to Israel: "Though we are saving a million Jews, they
are also saving us."

    But first the olim (Hebrew for immigrants) must be
assimilated, a task for which the government remains critically
unprepared. Officials warn that available shelter will run out
by March, despite plans to purchase 33,000 mobile homes and to
bunk at least 100,000 new arrivals at 21 army bases. So far
only a few thousand Soviet Jews have moved to the West Bank,
but government incentives are luring other Jews there in search
of cheaper housing. Last week Absorption Minister Yitzhak
Peretz called for the creation of tent cities to help house the
400,000 immigrants expected this year. "In the short run, it's
a great problem," admits Peres. "In the long run, it's a great
promise."

    Employment is also a great problem. Nearly 40% of the Soviet
emigres are trained in engineering, medicine and science,
skills that could resuscitate the nation's stagnant economy.
But the small number of universities and medical centers are
swamped with applicants, forcing many Ph.D.s to take jobs
sweeping streets and waiting tables. Few additional jobs can
be created without overhauling the highly regulated economy,
with its small industrial base and crushing taxes.

    Israeli society has proved remarkably efficient at absorbing
waves of diverse immigrants, but the huge numbers of Soviet
Jews may bring fundamental change to the national character.
For the first time since the mid-1960s, European Jews will
again outnumber Oriental Jews, reinforcing the nation's Western
identity. Because most Soviet Jews are non-observant, they will
considerably weaken the influence of the ultra-orthodox
parties, which enjoy a disproportionate share of political
power. That may explain why Peretz, an ultra-orthodox rabbi,
claims that as many as 35% of the Soviet immigrants are not
Jewish -- a claim refuted by most experts.

    Interior Minister Aryeh Deri counters that only 5% are
non-Jews. Angry immigrants warn that any slowdown in approving
visas could cost lives. "Jews must get out quickly," says Emi
Spielman, who arrived from Chernovtsy two weeks ago. The
60-year-old cobbler is still recovering from a skin graft he
needed after an anti-Semitic gang burst into his house in the
Soviet Union last April, pinned him down and burned his stomach
with a hot iron.

    Peretz is one of the few politicians who has dared to offend
the newcomers. By 1992, when the next parliamentary ballot is
scheduled, these immigrants could elect as many as 20 of the
120 members of the Knesset, enough to break the six-year
deadlock between Labor and Likud. Peres believes he can
convince Soviet Jews that a territorial compromise with the
Palestinians is in their interest. Shamir is just as confident
that immigrants will grow attached to his concept of a Greater
Israel. Many of the olim are less ideological than other recent
settlers, and the idea of a big Israel is not very important to
them. But they are likely to be extremely sensitive to the
nation's security and repelled by Labor's socialist trappings.

    As the ruling party, Likud is better positioned to woo
voters with money and favors. And Shamir's tough policies may
look more attractive at a time when the country is bracing for
a possible war with Iraq. But the Likud bloc's vulnerability
lies in the party's mismanagement of the absorption process.
Despite repeated warnings, last year's budget grossly
underestimated the expected immigration, and officials spend
more time bickering than coordinating policy. Various cash
grants -- $7,500 for a family of three -- stop after one year,
which means hundreds of thousands of immigrants will feel the
pinch of Israel's expensive living costs just prior to the 1992
elections. That could produce a separate political party
targeting immigrant issues.

    Such a special-interest party could control the balance of
power in Israel's splintered parliament -- and lead to a
backlash from established voters. The first signs of resentment
are already apparent. Last month the Histadrut labor federation
virtually shut down the country for two days to protest
government measures intended to raise money for immigration.
Nonetheless, the 1991 budget earmarks $6.15 billion for
absorption, nearly as much as for defense, and imposes a 5%
income-tax surcharge and a 2% increase in the value-added tax.
For Israelis, many of whom already pay one-third of their
average $12,500 annual income to the government, the tax hike
is a serious sacrifice for Zionism.

    Even new taxes and fund drives will raise only a portion of
the estimated $40 billion that will be required over the next
few years. The Bush Administration is unlikely to provide more
aid unless Shamir agrees to political concessions, including
a halt to Jewish settlements in the occupied territories.
Although Shamir claims that fewer than 1% of the Soviet Jews
have moved to the territories in the past year, the number is
destined to grow: two weeks ago, Housing Minister Ariel Sharon
disclosed plans to build 2,500 more homes for Jews in the West
Bank and Gaza.

    Sharon's announcement heightened Palestinian fears that the
immigrants will be settled at their expense. "This will destroy
all prospects for negotiations," says Saeb Erakat, professor
of political science at An-Najah University in Nablus. To most
Palestinians, each incoming planeload lessens the chances of
preserving their hold on the West Bank and Gaza. It is a matter
of almost equal import to the arriving Jews. As they settle
with difficulty into their new lives, they must also face up
to an ideological choice that could determine whether they and
their neighbors can ever live in peace.


____________________________________________________________
MIKHAIL PERLSTEIN

    Two months ago, Mikhail Perlstein was working as a disk
jockey in Kiev. Now he earns $500 a month sweeping the streets
of Netanya, a coastal city north of Tel Aviv. That was
considered "Arab work" until a government crackdown on
Palestinian laborers from the occupied territories opened such
jobs for Soviet Jews. "I'm not ashamed to be doing this," he
says, broom in hand.

    Perlstein, 21, immigrated with his parents and a brother.
They share a two-bedroom flat with three other Soviet Jews and
take intensive Hebrew classes. "It's a tough adjustment, but
we couldn't stay in Kiev any longer. It's becoming too
oppressive for Jews," he says, recalling rumors of pogroms. The
family's first choice was the U.S., but they couldn't get a
visa. "We didn't know much about Israel, but we knew we wanted
democracy," he says. "I'm not religious, but I'll be happy here
because there is no discrimination and plenty of food."

    Perlstein admits he is perplexed by the problems confronting
Israel. "I think the Palestinians are people too, and they need
a place to live," he says. Although he sounds like a Labor
party supporter, he thinks he'll probably vote for Likud. "I've
seen enough socialism in my life," he says. "I can't stand any
more of it."


____________________________________________________________ THE
YERUCHIMOVS

    When the Yeruchimovs feel homesick for life in Riga, Latvia,
they need only think of Israel's Ministry of Absorption office
in Jerusalem, where they spent four days waiting in line to
meet the one bureaucrat authorized to handle their paperwork.
"It reminded me of the Soviet Union," says daughter-in-law
Helen, 24. "But there you have to stand in line for food and
soap."

    The family of four arrived in Israel last month. Says Ella,
45, a nurse: "We left behind three flats, two cars and 30,000
rubles [about $16,500]." After missing the deadline for a visa
to the U.S., they decided that Israel offered their best chance
of escape. "We were concerned about facism," says Ella's
husband Mikhail, 47, a doctor of acupuncture. "When we heard
`Latvia for the Latvians,' it sounded  to us like `Germany for
the Germans.'"

    Helen has already found a job at a tourist agency. Her
husband Igor, 25, an abdominal surgeon, and his father aren't
so optimistic. Says Mikhail: "It will be very difficult to find
work here because we're told there are more doctors than Jews."
Despite the difficulties, Helen has decided against trying to
immigrate to the U.S. She says: "My friends in America tell me
that if you don't make it there you can starve."


____________________________________________________________
MAJOROVA AND GOLUBENKO

    After four months in Israel, Victoria Majorova already has
a gas mask -- and plenty of opinions on the Arab-Israeli
conflict. "I don't believe there will ever be peace between
Arabs and Jews here," says the mother of two, who worked as a
graphic artist in Tallinn, Estonia. "Only God can say whether
the West Bank belongs to Israel, and he's not talking."

    Victoria, 47, and her husband Alexander Golubenko, 59, a
neuropathologist, immigrated to spare their children from the
collapse of the Soviet Union. Though neither are observant
Jews, they were attracted to the idea of living in a Jewish
state and turned down an opportunity to move to the U.S.

    Like all newcomers, their main concern is finding jobs
before their government aid expires. Says Alexander: "My
happiness in Israel depends on finding a job." Victoria thinks
she has a solution: "If politicians want our votes, they will
have to address our problems, or we'll start our own political
party." She is especially upset by claims that some of the
Soviet immigrants may not be Jewish. "When the Israelis asked
me questions to determine if I'm really Jewish, I broke down in
tears," she recalls. "I told them: `In Russia they know exactly
who is a Jew.'"