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Refuseniks' story comes to Rutgers

By Sarah Morrison
August 29, 2008 

 

Documentary filmmaker Laura Bialis's work is so powerful that she can bring out the activist in the most apathetic of people. Her most recent film, "Refusenik," tracks the 30-year-long international movement to free Soviet Jews from their own country.

 

This documentary is the third that Bialis has produced and directed. Although they each cover different subjects, all the movies have a common theme: they are all about human rights.

 

"Refusenik" is screening at Rutgers University as part of its Fall Film Festival on Saturday, Sept. 20. and Sunday, Sept. 21. For times, price, and other information, please visit the Web site at www.njfilmfest.com.

 

The struggle for the refuseniks began in the early 1960s when reports of rampant anti-Semitism were coming out of the Soviet Union; in the move from communism to stronger communism, the study of Torah and Hebrew, all Jewish rituals, and books by any Jewish author, religious or secular, were banned. Jews were barred from choice universities and jobs, no matter how qualified they were for the positions. The hardships and restrictions grew to a point that many Soviet Jews thought that another Holocaust was coming and many had plans for suicide if the KGB came to take them away.

 

The former Soviets interviewed for the documentary all recalled not knowing what a Jew was. They had no concept of Shabbat, of kashrut, or what Torah was. "Jew" was just a label with absolutely no substance. The refuseniks, as children, found out that they were Jews because they were teased in schoolyards or they began to use curses that involved Jewish slandering. Despite every sign of being unwanted in their own country, these Jews were not allowed to leave.

 

When the Jewish prisoners learned what Israel was, they began to form an identity for themselves and curate a goal: they and their Jewish souls belonged in Israel. Slowly, Jewish artifacts were smuggled from activists from the West and passed from person to person. Tiny prayer books, phylacteries, Torah texts, and Shabbat candles were spread by word of mouth as the Soviet Jewry built their education from the ground up.

 

As the Soviet Jews began to discover and explore their heritage, exit visa applications began flowing in Moscow. The Jews wanted out, but the USSR had different plans. Applications were simply ignored and it became public knowledge that the "dirty Jew" wanted out of the glorious and beautiful nation of Russia. Jews were immediately fired from their jobs once word got out that they applied to leave. However, this was communist Russia; every person had to have a job.

 

Former doctors, research scientists, and lawyers became elevator operators, one of the only jobs available. And once those positions filled, there was nowhere to go and nothing to do. The Soviet Jews were stuck and brought to a point of desperation to get out; a group of men tried to hijack an airplane in an attempt to escape. When the plot failed, some of the men's punishment was execution, the rest sent to Siberia or hard labor camp. The most famous of this group of men was Anatoly "Natan" Sharansky, now a figure in Israeli politics after serving as a Knesset minister.

 

Reports of the planned executions leaked around the world. Activists who were already fighting on behalf of the Soviet Jews began to step up their efforts, lobbying in their governments to put political pressure to stop these executions. It was clear to the world that these Jews were so desperate to get out that they went to such heights as to hijack an airplane. International pressure called off the executions, but this was only the beginning of the story.

 

"You can't just sit around when you feel like something is not fair," Bialis said regarding the activists on behalf of the Soviet Jews and what eventually became her motivation for activism. "I just can't sit there anymore. I was so intimately involved [with the making of this movie] that it had a major life-changing impact."

 

After filming "Refusenik," Bialis continued her activism by moving to the Israeli city of Sderot, which has been the victim of rocket attacks from the Gaza Strip for several years. Her medium of choice, film, is the perfect way to shed light on a subject and move other people from apathy to sympathy as well. Her company, Foundation for Documentary Projects, aims to produce films that will have an impact on the world in some way.

 

"These aren't movies that you know are fiction films. This really happened," Bialis said. "I could never convince a TV station to pay me to make something like 'Refusenik.' But once it's out there, people may see it ad appreciate it. It's not exactly something that people are looking for as successful TV programming. But it has value! We're trying to bring important social messages, and the documentary film is a vehicle. It'll get the point out. It can impact people. The possibilities for impact are tremendous. Look at 'Super-Size Me.' That film is a documentary and it changed the way people think about fast food in this country. McDonald's had to change their policies because of it! Look what a documentary is capable of doing!"

 

The difference between a documentary about Sderot and "Refusenik" is that the issue of Soviet Jewry is case-closed, leaving only lessons to be learned so the same tactics can be applied to current human rights crises happening around the world.

 

"The refusenik story has very important lessons about all kinds of social issues that we're dealing with today," Bialis said, "like how we deal with oppression in other countries, human rights abuses, and how people can do grassroots organizing and actually make change with it. Naysayers say, 'you'll never do anything to change this,' and these people starting doing whatever they could. There are a lot of important lessons to learn how to live your life today. If we want to make changes, wherever they are, in our own worlds or across the globe, it's amazing to see what people were able to achieve… it ('Refusenik') shows other people what's possible."

 

The most important thing that Bialis wants to change with "Refusenik" is to stop rampant apathy that she finds in the world population.

 

"Why not?" she asked. "There are still human rights abuses happening all over the world."

 

At times it seems unfathomable to those who have lived in the free world their entire lives that there are governments and dictators out there that squash civil liberties to a point where the concept isn't even created in a person's mind. Atrocities occurring across the world, including the ongoing genocide in Darfur, could be stopped with world effort, protests, rallies. Even if somebody doesn't actively campaign, another body standing on the sidelines of a rally counts toward the number of people who stand in protest against the atrocities of the Sudanese government. Bialis insists that even the slightest effort, the slightest move from apathy to sympathy, really makes a difference. That proof is in "Refusenik," which demonstrates how ordinary people -- businessmen, housewives, students -- came out of the woodwork and demanded that they wouldn't stand for such medieval atrocities in a modern world.

 

Although the movement to free the refuseniks may still be going on without outside help, Bialis pointed out that the movement started within the USSR.

 

"While they were helpless in a certain aspect, they started the movement," Bialis said. "They were the first ones to do demonstrations. They encouraged the activists, told them what to say. There was an amazing amount that they did despite their limitations in the inside. They may be helpless, but it also teaches what people in an oppressed society can do."

 

In fact, some of the techniques applied to activism in Darfur are lifted straight from the pages of refusenik history. Techniques like divestment campaigns and the boycott of products from countries that support the Sudanese were originally applied in the struggle to end Soviet oppression.

 

"People go to work, come home, watch their TV, and go to sleep," Bialis said. "There's a general feeling of apathy. We need to tell people that their efforts actually make a difference."