In the course of the 1970s, Moscow was the center of Zionist ferment. Much of the activity that developed in that city then spread to the rest of the country─teaching of Hebrew, history and culture, religious activity, legal, scientific, and cultural seminars, samizdat, the establishment of international ties, and so forth. To a significant degree, Moscow coordinated mutual aid for refuseniks and aid to prisoners of Zion. More than others, Moscow activists were in contact with high-level foreign guests and took part in discussions of international initiatives and protest actions such as the Jackson-Vanik Amendment, the Brussels and Helsinki conferences, and the boycott of the Moscow Olympics.

In the beginning of the 1980s, some veteran refuseniks gradually stopped carrying out these functions under the prevalence of a generally harsher atmosphere, the closure of the gates for aliya, numerous threats, warnings, and arrests. Consequently, a certain vacuum was created by the lack of activity and coordination in those areas.

The situation, indeed, required just the opposite reaction because there was a sharp increase in the number of needy refuseniks and in the number of arrests and related problems. And our supporters in the West needed a constant stream of information about what was happening in the movement, a serious analysis of the ongoing processes, recommendations, and initiatives that corresponded to the changed situation. In light of the new circumstances, however, everyone understood that a continuation of activity in those forms that had been elaborated in the second half of the 1970s was impossible in the 1980s.

My personal situation reflected the generally tougher climate for the Jewish activists. During 1980 to 1981, I had felt pressure in connection with my work in running the teachers’ seminar and teaching Hebrew, and this pressure continued to intensify. It took the form of numerous detentions on the way to a lesson or seminar accompanied by warnings and threats of arrest, and calls to my wife while I was on my way someplace (“We heard that some people are planning to break your husband’s hands and feet; stop him before it’s too late!”). I also experienced the disruption of lessons, the confiscation of teaching materials, and threats to my students, extending to dismissal from work or exclusion from institutes of higher education. It became physically impossible to teach in such conditions, and I decided to transfer my students to teachers not under the KGB’s scrutiny.

I assumed that my actions demonstrated sufficient flexibility and willingness to make concessions, and that arresting me would contradict the regime’s educative-repressive policy. In other matters, I therefore continued to lead my normal refusenik life, giving lectures at the teachers’ seminar─which now was at Gorodetskii’s house, participating in meetings with foreigners and in the organization of meetings with members of the Israeli book fair delegations, writing petitions, and so forth. Other refuseniks who had also exhausted their resources followed more or less the same tactics. Our natural behavior evoked much less suspicion on the part of the authorities toward the part of our activity that we concealed from outsiders. On the basis of my experience in Sverdlovsk, I knew that the legends of the KGB’s omniscience were greatly exaggerated: their own resources were limited and they were not able to place informers everywhere.

At the beginning of the 1980s, my covert activity continually expanded. Contacts with Nativ, which had been developing for several years, intensified and required a solution for a wider circle of tasks. The Cities Project needed serious financing and an expanded variety and quantity of samizdat material. Contacts with foreigners required people with a mastery of foreign languages and an understanding of the situation, including all aspects of our multifaceted activity. In addition, there was a need for reliable, effective─and at the same time sufficiently secret─channels for supporting and stimulating certain kinds of activity.

I gradually developed good working contacts with people handling various areas: Natasha Khasina (prisoners of Zion and families in trouble); Ira and Igor Gurevich and Slava Shifrin (kindergartens); Yulii Edelshtein, Alexandr and Mikhail Kholmianskii, Leva Gorodetskii (Hebrew); Mikhail Chlenov, Viktor Fulmakht, and Vladimir Mushinskii (samizdat, cultural activity); Aleksandr Yoffe and Boris Klots (physicists’ seminar, refusenik scientists); Antaolii Khazanov, a prominent ethnographer, and Vladimir Kislik (the legal seminar─after he served his prison term and moved to Moscow). In addition, I retained trustworthy working contacts with veteran activists who had to reduce their activities considerably in order to retain their freedom─Lerner, Prestin, Abramovich, and Levich, and in other cities─Aba Taratuta and Roald Zelichenok (Leningrad), Koifman (Dnepropetrovsk), and others. Those people could have a practical influence on the situation and possessed the most reliable information in their regions.

After one of the meetings with foreigners at the apartment of Anatolii Khazanov, a neighbor in my district, I suggested to some of the local participants that they take part in regular meetings to discuss and coordinate our activities. The first group included Lev Gorodetskii, Yulii Edelshtein, Aleksandr Yoffe, Mikhail Chlenov, Viktor Fulmakht, Anatolii Khazanov, and Boris Klots, a total of eight people, together with me. I proposed to Prestin and Abramovich that they join the group but they preferred to interact with me on a personal level, and I understood them fully: they had been worn out by the ongoing intense KGB surveillance.

We met weekly at reliable apartments not under the KGB’s eye. At each meeting, we set out a festive table with drinks and snacks: in case of a sudden KGB visit, everyone knew what festive date or holiday we were supposed to be celebrating. In this context, Leva Gorodetskii suggested called our meetings “Mashka” from the Hebrew acronym for “Club for strong drinking,” which sounded similar to the Hebrew word for a beverage, “mashkeh.” The name caught on for internal use, especially because we sometimes did have a swig or two. The members were ambitious and energetic people. To avoid any clash of interests, Vitia Fulmakht suggested that meetings be held in “an atmosphere of complete tenderness,” i.e., an absolutely friendly atmosphere, which became an inviolable principle. If in the course of a discussion, the atmosphere began to heat up, the person in charge would appeal to everyone to observe the law of “complete tenderness.”

Foreigners and activists who were not part of the group were never invited to “Mashka.” No one mentioned anything that was discussed there, as well as the very existence of “Mashka,” even among our closest circle of acquaintances. Each person individually carried out the decisions adopted there in his own sphere of activity. Everything but the Cities Project and sources of financing, which were my spheres of responsibility, was discussed at “Mashka.” The expenditures for other projects and directions of activity were discussed constantly. In time, “Mashka” turned into a powerful analytic and coordinating instrument that operated up until the collapse of the USSR. In those years no one except for people in Nativ, the members themselves, and the owners of the apartments where the meetings took place knew about its existence, but its influence was felt in many areas of our activity.

We created a circle of people for meetings with foreigners in which a “Mashka” member would come to the meeting as part of his group or individually and present topics there for which he was responsible in “Mashka.” In that way, each person spoke about his own area but it organically meshed with the general picture that had been carefully discussed at “Mashka.” That set-up was particularly important when high-level guests arrived and we had to give them a survey of refusenik life and its problems in order to prepare them before their meetings with the Soviet leadership. After Gorbachev became the head of state, the number of foreigners increased sharply.

Nativ emissaries always received accurate and balanced information about the situation. “Mashka” prepared letters and appeals to important international forums and political figures, saw to it that problematic spots of refusenik activity received support within the USSR and abroad, that there were no hitches with samizdat, that prisoners of Zion and their families were taken care of, and so forth. We regularly prepared analytic reports about developments regarding emigration and refusenik activity. These reports, in which each person described his sector, were sent to Nativ.

As I remember it, there was only one interpersonal conflict in “Mashka,” which resulted in the withdrawal of Lev Gorodetskii. The sole member of “Mashka” who was arrested and sentenced was Yulii Edelshtein, but he was arrested for leading a dibur and participating in major social undertakings under the KGB’s eyes, not because of his membership in “Mashka,” about which the KGB was ignorant. When the large emigration began, new people were brought in to replace those who departed. People from that circle became my closest friends.

Remind me, when did you join “Mashka”? I asked Anatolii Khazanov, who became a refusenik only in 1980. We lived not far from each other, our children were the same age, and we became friendly.

What do you mean “when”? Let’s start from the beginning. Allow me to remind you, dear Yulii, that a group of Canadian parliamentarians arrived in Moscow at the end of 1983. Because of various considerations, you suggested receiving them at my place. (Anatolii had a hospitable wife, Ira, and a nice apartment with a large living room. Yu. K.) After the meeting we decided to relax a little. You, Vitia (Fulmakht), Alik (Yoffe), and Yulii Edelshtein─I remember it well─and someone else. And then you came up with this idea: “I am beginning to feel that the old refuseniks are victimized and tired and retiring from activity. Anarchy is beginning to set in. The time has come to establish a coordinating organ.” That historic event occurred in my home. I shall never forget it. We began to discuss whom we should co-opt. Someone suggested Pasha [Pavel] Abramovich, but you said that Pasha was unlikely to be able to join but we would, undoubtedly, consult with him.

I knew that he couldn’t. I had talked to him before this.

Naturally, we brought in Mika immediately, and it seems to me you suggested Gorodila (Lev Gorodetskii, Yu, K.). Boria Klots was suggested and everyone agreed, despite Alik’s minor objection. And that’s all.

What issues did you deal with?

I took part in discussions of strategy and the preparation of analytic memoranda and protest letters. I also did final editing of analytic surveys. Together with Mika, I dealt with the Jewish Cultural Association. And, of course, representative functions. I remember an analytic memorandum of 1984 and the scientists’ letter.

You didn’t seem to have any special unpleasantness.

Well, yes! All kinds of interrogations!

When did you receive an exit visa?

I was one of the first─in April 1985.They gave me three days to leave without any excuses. “I’m ready in three hours,” I replied. Unlike many others, it was very easy for me in Israel. I understood the people who had to seek work in Israel amongst whom I had to seek work. But in my case the work always sought me.

The organized scientific community in refusal was considered a natural field of activity for Alik Yoffe, a highly decent, sincere, and community-minded person who was an active participant in and one of the coordinators of the physics seminar. Boris Klots, who led a small historical-cultural seminar, also possessed that quality.

You managed to maintain good relations with the overwhelming majority of refusenik scientists, which was highly valued in our circle, I noted to Alik. How did you perceive “Mashka” and its relationship with the scientific community?

As the leader, you saw all the different directions and perceived them as part of an integral whole. I will, no doubt, greatly disappoint you now by saying that for me “Mashka” was a group of very charming people with whom it was pleasant and interesting to spend time. It was an intensely intellectual group of like-minded people who possessed a good sense of humor and were able to utilize this humor in the most serious situations. Every conversation was one in which you had to think not what to say but about what we were talking. I understood that each of us occupied some place in the group to which he belonged and that we were not together on an accidental basis. In terms of an understanding of what was happening and an opportunity to discuss matters, “Mashka” was a most remarkable institution.

Mika Chlenov, a veteran of the movement, a humanitarian to the marrow, with a very broad general cultural horizon, had an excellent mastery of Hebrew, English, German, Indonesian, and several other languages. In the first four he had the ability of a first-rate simultaneous translator. An elite Hebrew teacher since 1972, he proved himself during the preparations for the symposium on Hebrew culture in 1976. Chlenov formulated the ideas of the legalist direction in the development of Jewish culture, in which context he organized a historical-ethnographic commission in 1980 and also brought together a group of academics who dealt with Judaica in the journal Sovetish Heimland. He also continued his work in the academic Institute of Ethnography. While taking part actively in the spiritual life of the refusenik community, he himself did not apply to leave as a result of family circumstances.

Membership in “Mashka” entailed serious risks. It combined all the attributes of an underground on an organizational level and rather intensive open activity for each person individually, I noted to Chlenov.[1]

That’s true in principle, but it was not a silly demonstrative underground composed of kids who had read brochures about the Bolshevik underground in 1917. We had rather mature people although, of course, “Mashka” was complex and so were the times. But it was one of the most interesting things in my generally interesting life.

What did you see as your role in “Mashka”?

For me it was a natural continuation of what I had been doing for thirteen years. If it was suitable, I saw myself as one of its political leaders, a person who deals with strategic planning and analysis and takes part in decision-making. “Mashka” was an important school for me in light of what followed. To a large degree, I am obligated to “Mashka” for my becoming a political leader of Soviet Jewry at the end of the 1980s to the beginning of the 1990s. It was my first real school of management. Before that I had directed some scientific expeditions but that was something entirely different. “Mashka” was a colossal school, very successful, and I am grateful to you for inviting me into it. To my mind, you made the right decision. Moreover, after your departure, I took the structure that you had created and built the VAAD upon it.

You put together “Mashka” in your own way. Inviting Khazanov was totally unexpected. He never was that active, but you, evidently, were friendly with him and valued his significant intellectual potential. You were also friendly with me. You invited Gorodila [Gorodetskii] and me when we had not yet applied for exit visas. A rather daring move.

I remember talking with a former activist of the Israeli Public Council for Soviet Jewry who told me that at the end of the 1970s, half of the Council members thought that Chlenov was a KGB agent and the other half didn’t.

I asked her why. She said: “Well, you hadn’t applied to leave, you dealt with those matters, and you weren’t touched.” I said: “I wasn’t the only one, there was Gorodetskii…” “With regard to him,” replied that lady, “seventy percent said that he was a spy.”

Nowadays, as far as I understand, they don’t say such things and they are looking for cooperation.

When Sasha Kholmianskii was arrested, we brought his older brother Misha into the group, and after that you brought in Kislik. Deep into perestroika, you introduced Smukler as editor-in-chief and publisher of Vestnik. After your departure, I headed “Mashka.” That was the second “Mashka,” into which I also brought Stonov. Out of the second “Mashka” arose the VAAD, the third “Mashka.”

Broadly educated, energetic, and cheerful, Viktor Fulmakht was part of “Mashka” from the very beginning. He had already been participating for a long time in refusenik undertakings, dealt with samizdat, and was an editor of the journals Our Hebrew, Jews in the Contemporary World, and Magid. His exceptional communicability helped him easily to contact various refusenik groups. Like Chlenov, he had not applied to leave and still possessed significant reserves of buoyancy. Fulmakht participated, as did a few others, in the preliminary discussion about “Mashka.”

Vitia, did you work with Sasha Kholmianskii?

My task was to supply products for the channels that he developed. Later on, out-of-towners whom he drew in used to come directly to me and take what they needed. The “traffic” through my apartment became so intensive that I began to organize warehouses at other people’s places.

You and I used to meet rather frequently.

Yes, and the idea of transforming our gathering into something more organized occurred simultaneously to three people─you, me, and Mika. We began to discuss it together and quickly concluded that it would be a good idea to meet more or less regularly: there was always something to discuss and matters to coordinate.

I discussed the idea with several other people. As you recall, there were eight people in the first “Mashka.” What did you see as its purpose?

Thanks principally to you, “Mashka” played an important role as a representative group. Foreigners, of course, associated with whomever they wanted to. Nevertheless, our group produced the impression of an organization capable of discussing and comprehending serious matters, elaborating a collective opinion on important issues, composing documents, and organizing people. We dealt with politics and “Mashka” turned into a political organ. Our dealings educated us and imparted confidence. Another virtue of our group was that it was linked to the Jewish masses. We taught, disseminated material, were connected to the youth and out-of-towners, and we were in the thick of events. It was a first class solution for that period, when other variants of natural leaders that arose in various contexts were neutralized.

In the 1980s, it was already impossible to do the things that Prestin and Abramovich did in the second half of the 1970s.

It was the next stage of the movement─from individual charismatic leaders to a more compact group with connections and opportunities and capable of working together.

One of the most important functions of “Mashka” was the correct distribution of funds and material resources among the various directions of our activity. Natasha Khasina took care of aid to prisoners of Zion and members of their families.[2] I had a separate working channel of communication with her and a circle of people who helped her in her work. This direction had priority financing and generally did not lack means. The financing of samizdat was handled by via Fulmakht and Mushinskii, who became a member of “Mashka” in 1988. Emergency help to refuseniks who experienced misfortune was extended via all members of “Mashka.” Igor Gurvich and Slava Shifrin dealt with aid to kindergartens.

The Cities Project was not discussed at “Mashka” nor was the group involved in its financing. The centralized mechanism for receiving financial means was also concealed from “Mashka.” Large sums generally came from underground Georgian or Bukharan millionaires who sympathized with the movement. In that way some of them helped their relatives in Israel, who received the equivalent in shekels of the sums that had been transferred to us. Because we were not personally acquainted with the underground millionaires and both sides wanted to avoid failure in such a sensitive sphere, the process was rather complex. I had occasion to send various people on these delicate missions, and generally─although not always─things proceeded smoothly.

Aleksandr Smukler, one of the later members of “Mashka” and now president of the National Conference on post-Soviet Jewry recalled:

Several leaders of the worldwide Jewish movement thought that activists in the USSR were riven by disagreements and that there was no unified center or group of leaders. There were merely heroes, prisoners of Zion, and powerful intellectuals who were respected and admired throughout the world. After my arrival in 1991, you can’t imagine how much time I spent explaining to them that now, at least, the Jewish movement was entirely different because there was “Mashka,” which met every week, made clear-cut decisions, and distributed and dispatched funds. Everyone jointly implemented the decisions that had been adopted. I don’t recall one case of any scandals in “Mashka.”[3]

I hold in my hands the yellowed pages of an analytic summary from the first half of 1984. It contains eighteen printed pages divided into seven sections, each of which was composed by a separate group headed, generally, by a “Mashka” member. The account included a general picture of Soviet Jewry at that particular moment and the processes underway in that milieu; an analysis of emigration processes, categories of refusal and of refuseniks, the study of Hebrew, culture, and religion, and issues of higher education for members of refusenik families; a description of the situation of children in refusal, the problems of refusenik scientists and problems of prisoners of Zion and their families.

“Mashka” quickly became the most informed and influential group in the movement, maintaining this level until emigration became completely free. It was conspiratorial as a group but each participant was a rather well-known and influential person in the movement. In the most difficult times, it managed to maintain a high level of representation, of analysis of the situation, and of coordination of refusenik activity. The steadfastness and courage of refuseniks and activists stimulated the activity of the overseas movement in support of Soviet Jewry. With the general liberalization in the Gorbachev period and the emigration of refuseniks, a second “Mashka” was formed under Mikhail Chlenov’s leadership that was practically legal and then a third─the VAAD, which will be discussed later.

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