One of the most moving songs to emerge from the October 7 war, is a paean of praise to reservists sung by Hatikva 6 called “Superheroes.”
It tells the story of how ordinary people – a grammar teacher, contractors, lawyers, bank managers, and others – are thrust into extraordinary situations in the reserves.
The chorus captures this transformation: “Everyone looks normal, but we are a nation of superheroes, and within each of us is a hidden soldier ready to save the world.”
The war has brought out the superhero in many: people displaying unspeakable courage in battle, unfathomable grace in the face of devastating loss, and unimaginable devotion to the nation and its people.
Indeed, unsung heroes walk – often quietly and unpretentiously – among us. And not only heroes from the current war.
A look into Eduard Kuznetsov
On Sunday, a forgotten hero from a different battle – the battle to free Soviet Jewry – passed away at the age of 85: Eduard Kuznetsov.
He was one of 16 young, idealistic Jews – and two non-Jews – who in June 1970 plotted to hijack a small airplane and fly it from Leningrad to Sweden, and from there to Israel. The plan was doomed from the start, and the conspirators were arrested before even getting on the plane.
The ensuing Leningrad Trial became a turning point in the struggle of Soviet Jewry, drawing global attention and ensuring that the Jews of Silence, as Elie Wiesel famously termed Soviet Jewry, would be silent no more.
Kuznetsov was one of the planners and one of two of the 11 defendants – the other being Mark Dymshits – who were sentenced to death. World outrage led to the commutation of his sentence to 15 years in the Gulag, of which he served nine years before being released in a 1979 swap for two Soviet spies arrested in the US. Others involved in the hijacking plot who were sentenced to lengthy prison terms included his then-wife, Sylva Zalmanson, and Yosef Mendelevich.
Those names – Kuznetsov, Zalmanson, Mendelevich – became synonymous with the struggle for Soviet Jewry. Their faces appeared on posters around the world, and their names were worn on necklaces and bracelets by hundreds of thousands who protested and prayed for their release – paralleling the situation today regarding the hostages being held in Gaza.
Kuznetsov, like other Prisoners of Zion and refusniks who fought and paid a heavy price for the right to emigrate, was a hero in the battle for Soviet Jewry.
And they won. The Soviet Union collapsed, and well over a million Russian-speaking immigrants settled in Israel, enriching the population beyond imagination in every field: science, medicine, the arts, and sports. Israel’s hi-tech revolution owes much of its success to the influx of Russian-trained engineers, mathematicians, and computer specialists who arrived in the 1990s. The Start-Up Nation would not have flourished as it did without them.
None of this would have been possible without people like Kuznetsov, who came here and lived their lives – like so many heroes – quietly and far from the public eye. For years, Kuznetsov worked as an editor and journalist in Israel’s vibrant Russian-language press.
The courage of those young Soviet Jews risking everything for their identity is not just history; it is a powerful example for Diaspora Jews today about the value of Jewish identity and the nobility – and even heroism – of struggling to keep it.
The Soviet Union tried to strip its Jews of their religious identity and their connection to the land of Israel.
While there is no comparison between what the Soviet Jews endured and what Jews in the West are going through today, there are strong forces in the West seeking to strip Jews of their ties to Zionism and Israel.
The penalty for not doing so is not the Gulag, and those who feel pressured are not physically constrained from walking away. Instead, the penalty is subtler: being canceled, ostracized, or made to feel uncomfortable for holding such beliefs. Kuznetsov’s example – and that of his peers – was to resist these pressures, not to accept these dictates quietly but to fight back hard.
It’s a timely message, and – given that today is the first day of Hanukkah – also a seasonal one.