20 Of Av
Rabbi Levi Yizhchack Shneeorson
Rabbi Levi Yitzchak Schneerson, (1878-1944), was a Chabad chasidic Rabbi in Yektrinislov Ukraine. He was the father of the seventhChabad Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Shneeorson.
Rabbi Schneerson was born on the 18th day of Nissan, 5638 (1878) in the town of Podrovnah (near Gomel) to Rabbi Baruch Schneur and Zelda Rachel Schneerson. His great-great grandfather was the third Chabad Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Shneeorson of Lubavitch.
In 1900, Levi Yitzchak married Chana Yanovski, whose father, Rabbi Meir Shlomo, was the Rabbi of the Ukrainian city of Nikolayeiv. In 1902, their eldest son, Menachem Mendel was born. He was later to become the Lubavicther Rebbe.
In 1909, Rabbi Levi Yitzchok and his young family moved to Yekaterinaslav (known today as Dnieperpetrovsk), where he was appointed Chief Rabbi at the request of Rabbi Sholom Dovber Schneerson, the fifth Lubavitcher Rebbe (known as the Rebbe Rashab). Rabbi Levi Yitzchok devoted himself entirely to his new position and he soon earned the love and respect of the local community.
In 1914, World War I broke out, followed by the Russian Revolution three years later. Although the Jews had suffered under the tyrannical Czar, their lives under the new Communist regime were even worse. The new government disguised their anti-Semitism as the pursuit of “equality” and used this principle as an excuse to uproot all vestiges of Jewish tradition and observance. All major Jewish institutions, including Synagogues, ritual baths, schools, and rabbinical colleges were forcibly closed. Anyone who tried to keep Jewish tradition alive was bitterly persecuted. However, the Chassidim who worked on behalf of Rabbi Yosef Yitzchok Schneerson, the sixth Lubavitcher Rebbe, were singled out for the worst abuse.
Rabbi Levi Yitzchok was arrested for his efforts to maintain Jewish life in Soviet Russia. Like so many other religious Jews at that time, he suffered the indignities of arrest and incarceration.
It was three a.m. on Nissan 9th 5699 [1939] when four NKVD agents arrived at Rabbi Levi Yitzchok Schneerson’s home at 13 Barikadnaya Street, Dnieperpetrovsk.
“Where’s Rabbi Schneerson?” they demanded as they burst in. Each agent stationed himself by an outside door to ensure that no one could escape. One of them, a sergeant, then ordered his men to conduct a thorough search of the house.
Every single book on Rabbi Levi Yitzchok’s five bookcases was removed and inspected. Nothing was left out. Books on Jewish mysticism, handwritten responsa, and valuable letters from the Lubavitcher Rebbes, both past and present, were opened and meticulously examined. Rabbi Levi Yitzchok’s certificates of Rabbinical ordination, his family’s exit visas, personal letters from abroad, and the documents confirming his appointment to the Rabbinate of Yekaterinaslav [Dnieperpetrovsk] were also subjected to detailed examination. When the search was completed, everything was packed into boxes and removed. One of the boxes contained thousands of handwritten pages of Rabbi Levi Yitzchok’s Chassidic insights.
The search continued until six in the morning, when Rabbi Levi Yitzchok was ordered to dress and accompany the NKVD agents. As it was close to Passover, he was allowed to take a small two-kilo parcel of matzah with him. When Rebbitzen Chana asked where her husband was going, she was told that she would only find out the following afternoon at police headquarters.
Rabbi Levi Yitzchok’s real suffering began with his arrest. Much to the concern of his wife, Rebbitzen Chana, his whereabouts became very hazy when he was sent to a jail in Kiev.
One day Rabbi Levi Yitzchok was summoned to the head of the police department, who presented him with a charge sheet. Rabbi Levi Yitzchok was accused of being a member of an underground clerical anti-Soviet organization and having committed counter-revolutionary acts. The NKVD sought to prove that he was guilty of treason, a crime that carried the death penalty. They cited as evidence his constant contact with Rabbi Yosef Yitzchok Schneerson, the sixth Lubavitcher Rebbe, who was the father-in-law of his eldest son. Yet despite their most strenuous efforts, the NKVD was unable to force Rabbi Levi Yitzchok to admit to any of the charges brought against him.
Soon afterwards, Rebbitzen Chana was summoned to NKVD headquarters on a Monday morning. She was brought to an office where four uniformed agents were sitting around a table. The most senior of them informed her that Rabbi Levi Yitzchok had been sentenced to five years of internal exile in an Eastern Asian republic.
Rebbitzen Chana immediately burst into tears. She pleaded with the secret police to reconsider because her husband was far too frail to withstand exile to such a remote and primitive location. The agents replied that Rabbi Levi Yitzchok would be going to a better place and that he had not lost his Soviet citizenship. The only thing that he had to do was move to wherever they sent him. Rebbitzen Chana was also informed that before he was sent to his place of exile she would be allowed to see him one last time.
Rebbitzen Chana begged for mercy on behalf of her husband. His passport stated that he was over seventy [in fact, he was about sixty-two], and she pleaded that he was far too old to be sent on such a long journey. Moreover, he suffered from heart disease and a journey to an obscure Soviet republic was far too long and arduous for someone in his poor state of health. However, her pleas fell upon deaf ears. She was merely told to prepare some provisions for his journey because he had refused to eat any of the food he had been offered throughout his imprisonment.
Rabbi Levi Yitzchok was sent into exile in the central Asian republic of Kazakhstan. It was a grueling, arduous journey.
On the date specified for meeting her husband, Rebbitzen Chana arrived at the appointed place accompanied by a close family friend. She brought with her a parcel of provisions, including various items essential to Rabbi Levi Yitzchok’s health.
It is difficult to imagine how Rebbitzen Chana must have felt to see her husband for the first time in ten months. Her joy at seeing him was mixed with shock when she saw how badly his health had deteriorated. He had become so emaciated that he was almost unrecognizable.
On 15th Shevat 5700 [1940], Rabbi Levi Yitzchok’s train pulled into the station at Almaty, the capital of the central Asian republic of Kazakhstan. The prisoners were divided into groups according to their places of exile. Rabbi Levi Yitzchok’s group was sent to Kazil-Orda. This was a relatively large town and some of the group asked to stay there so that they could live close to the local Jewish community. The authorities turned down this request and the exiles were sent on their way. Rabbi Levi Yitzchok was exiled to the remote village of Chiali in Kazakhstan. Chiali was a squalid outpost that was swamped with dust and mud. Swarms of mosquitoes infested the village, making the lives of the local inhabitants a misery from morning till night. They were everywhere and there was no refuge from them.
The houses in Chiali were built from mud and plaster. Their damp walls could not withstand the heavy local rains or hailstorms and their dirt floors were hardly any different from the ground outside. They gave little protection from the constant strong winds, searing summer heat, and freezing winter weather. During the hot summer a strong stench of sewage pervaded the village. Therefore it was hardly surprising that disease was rife during the summer months and many died.
Rabbi Levi Yitzchok arrived in this miserable village on the evening of Monday, Shevat 19th, 5700 [1940]. The only sound that could be heard in the darkness was the constant dripping of heavy rain. Another Jewish exile was sent to Chiali with Rabbi Levi Yitzchok, and both men tried to help each other.
The first thing they did was look for other Jews in the hope that another Jew might be able to help them find somewhere to live. However, it was very difficult to make any inquiries because neither Rabbi Levi Yitzchok nor his friend spoke the local Kazakh language. When they had finally made themselves understood, they found out that there was one other Jew living in the village. This was a Jewish tailor who had been exiled to Chiali many years earlier. Unfortunately this man did not want to have anything to do with them. When he saw them, he drove them away and they had to look for help elsewhere.
Feeling very tired and hungry by this point, Rabbi Levi Yitzchok and his friend made their way to the nearest house they could find that still had a light burning. This time, the owner took pity on the two emaciated figures that unexpectedly knocked at his door and he allowed them to stay in his home overnight. He spread a blanket over the narrow, damp kitchen floor, and Rabbi Levi Yitzchok and his friend arranged their clothing to serve as a bed. Unfortunately this still did not protect them from the terrible chill which crept into their bones, and they hardly slept the entire night.
In the morning, their host spoke to them at greater length and told them that one of them could stay. After drawing lots between them, Rabbi Levi Yitzchok won the right to stay. He did not want to be separated from his friend, but he realized that he had no choice. Before long he sent a telegram to his wife to let her know where he was. He also asked her to send him some of his most precious possessions including his tallis, tefillin, some books, and various essential food items.
Three weeks later, Rabbi Levi Yitzchok received a parcel containing his tallis and tefillin. He later told Rebbitzen Chana that his joy at being able to use his beloved tallis and tefillin for the first time in about a year could not be put into words.
Chiali was such a miserable, impoverished outpost that even obtaining a simple loaf of bread was a difficult process. Every three days everyone lined up to receive their ration of one loaf, which weighed about a kilo or less and was often moldy. Unfortunately, there was not always enough to go round. Only those who managed to reach the front of the line were lucky enough to receive any bread at all. Anyone standing further back than the middle of the line would be sent home empty-handed.
Many different types of people joined the breadline. They included prisoners and criminals of various backgrounds, who spoke different languages but all knew how to push. Apart from the shouting and cursing that accompanied the ceaseless shoving to reach the front of the line, there were often violent incidents.
Although Rabbi Levi Yitzchok wore simple clothing and was very unassuming, his noble appearance and Jewish features attracted the attention of these coarse peasants. Even the most boorish among them understood that Rabbi Levi Yitzchok was no ordinary prisoner, and they treated him with respect. On more than one occasion they even sneaked him into the front of the line to save him the inconvenience of waiting for bread.
One Shabbat, during the last weeks of his life, a large group of people came to study Torah with him. By this time, Rabbi Levi Yitzchok was in so much pain that his body could not even bear the weight of his clothing. As he was only covered with a coat, he apologized to his visitors for the way he was dressed. With a wry smile he remarked,“Vas man vardint sich, dos hat man!” [“A person only owns what he has earned!”] Despite his terrible suffering, Rabbi Levi Yitzchok spoke to his visitors about Torah for hours, almost as if he was as strong as he had been in previous years.
One particular doctor constantly cared for Rabbi Levi Yitzchok. When his condition took a turn for the worse, two well-known physicians also examined him. When they saw no sign of an improvement, they decided to consult with a renowned professor in Leningrad. However, nobody knew whether he would agree to come to Almaty to examine Rabbi Levi Yitzchok. As Rabbi Levi Yitzchok’s friends were determined to obtain the very best medical care for him, they used whatever channels they could to meet the professor. The professor finally agreed to examine Rabbi Levi Yitzchok in return for a hefty bribe.
A young medical student, who had become very close to Rabbi Levi Yitzchok and often discussed health matters with him, traveled to Leningrad to bring the professor to Almaty. The professor was able to make his diagnosis almost immediately. He could even point to where the tumor was located in Rabbi Levi Yitzchok’s body. The severity of the situation was reflected in the professor’s grave expression.
Rabbi Levi Yitzchok told the professor about everything he had been through over the past few years. Referring to the authorities, he sadly asked, “What do these people want from me? What have they done to me?”
Rabbi Levi Yitzchok eventually became very weak. One day, he remarked to a close friend as he pointed to his thin arm, “Look at me. I’m just skin and bone. I can’t even taste my food anymore.”
During the last few days of his life, Rabbi Levi Yitzchok lay in bed, hovering on the edge of unconsciousness. He did not speak aloud, but murmured very quietly to himself. However, at one point he suddenly opened his eyes and asked for some water to wash his hands.
“Man darf sich ariber koffen oif yener zeit!” [“I have to prepare to move to another world!”] he explained. These proved to be Rabbi Levi Yitzchok’s last words to anyone else.
The next day, Wednesday, Av 20th, 5704 [1944], Rabbi Levi Yitzchok’s condition deteriorated even further. He continued to murmur quietly to himself. By this point he was suffering intense pain, and he occasionally indicated that he wanted to be turned over or moved.
Rabbi Hirsch Rabinowitz, who was present at the time, tried to hear what Rabbi Levi Yitzchok was whispering. When he drew close enough, he could hear the words, “Ikvos Moshicha, Ikvos Moshicha,” [the footsteps of Mashiach, the footsteps of Mashiach.”]
That evening, Rabbi Levi Yitzchok was in so much agony that his friends called a doctor. The doctor immediately prescribed a number of medicines to ease his pain. Rabbi Levi Yitzchok’s closest friends, who were in the apartment at the time, decided that they would not leave his bedside because they could see that his end was close. They started to recite the various psalms and prayers traditionally said at the end of a person’s life.
Before the end of the day, Rabbi Levi Yitzchok’s pure soul finally left his tired, tortured body.
On Thursday afternoon, Rabbi Levi Yitzchok’s closest friends, including a number of Jews from Leningrad, Rostov, and Kharkov, finally finished preparing the body for burial. The time had come for Rabbi Levi Yitzchok to be carried on his final journey.
The Jewish cemetery in Almaty was several kilometers away from his home. The route was difficult and tortuous, but the bearers of the coffin did not want to take it off their shoulders or drive to the cemetery. The bearers of the coffin changed places several times until they finally arrived at their destination.
Rebbitzen Chana did not go to the cemetery and no other women were allowed to go to the funeral.
