Written by: Catherine Heller
Can a Jewish community survive after over 30 years of repression and neglect?
Under the auspices of the Joint Distribution Committee, Rabbi Peter Rubinstein and JDC representative Danielle Cohen led a group of 29 congregants to Havana from October 7-11. It was the first time in Cuba for most of us and the elegant, decaying mansions, the rows of rotting majestic buildings with crumbling columns marching down the street, the pristine antique cars that still work and the crowds waiting patiently to be squeezed into buses that rarely came were sights we expected. But the devotion, the vitality and the joy of the Jews who worship there was not.
When the Castro regime took over Cuba in 1959, all religions were banned. Attending synagogue (or church) meant closing doors to coveted jobs and opportunities. The Jewish community faced the additional burden of a seriously diminished population, for about 90% of the 15,000 Jews in Cuba fled when Castro came to power. This left mostly the old, the poor and the not so observant, a weak basis for a community.
Restrictions on all religious life were eased in 1996. That was the year that Castro put on a suit and kissed the Pope’s ring. Dr. Jose Miller, a dentist, saw a chance to bring back the vibrant Jewish community he had known in his youth. His synagogue, Beth Shalom, known as the Patronato, had been a proud modern building with an active community center when it was built in 1955, but it was abandoned soon afterwards. The crumbling slum needed millions to be restored. Dr. Miller was able to contact the JDC as well as Miami congregations made up largely of those Cubans who had left, and a revival was started.
Today there are three synagogues in Havana. The Conservative Patronato, which has been restored to orderly comfort if not grandeur, is the largest, but there is also an Orthodox synagogue and a Sephardic one. The group from Central visited all three and had lunch with representatives of the several hundred Jews who live outside Havana. The president of each one of these groups emphasized that in spite of the different types of worship, the Jews in Cuba are united as one people.
It can be difficult for Americans to enter Cuba legally. Our visit was classified as “humanitarian mission.” We were issued special visas and to fulfill our mission we brought Spanish-Hebrew prayer books, prescription drugs, over the counter medications, soap, shampoo, toothpaste, toothbrushes etc. We took a regular commercial flight from JFK to Miami and then a charter run by American Eagle to Havana. The security was tight but we were all good natured as we took off our shoes and belts.
From the air, Cuba could be almost any Caribbean island, but as the plane descended there were certain singularities. There were few roads, few cars and no trucks and no golf courses. We were low enough at this point to see cattle, so distance was not an issue. The skyline of Havana has several hotels that are right out of Miami Beach circa 1958, but very few contemporary structures. We saw no other planes taking off or landing and our American crew was confined to the airport until their quick return. Customs in Havana was polite and uneventful and we proceeded in our air conditioned bus to our comfortable hotel. But such luxuries are only for tourists and even our
knowledgeable and personable Cuban guide, Alain Miranda, was not allowed past the lobby entrance.
The JDC has sent Yael and Mariano Mirelman, Argentine Jews to help with the revival of the community, and they were also our able guides. Although there is no full time rabbi in Cuba, Mariano leads services and several members of each congregation are also educated enough to do so. A rabbi from Argentina or Mexico visits every few months. There is religious instruction for adults as well as children and although the synagogue still needs support from the JDC and other congregations, the foundation for a Jewish community have been set.
The visitors from Central will be funding three camps this summer to allow the children, young couples and older adults to come together and study in a more informal atmosphere. The synagogue also sponsors a girls’ dance group, Shabbat dinners and has started a choir, all signs of a growing Jewish community.
There are about 1500 Jews in Cuba today; most are in Havana. Several hundred live in smaller communities in the countryside. Some are converts who were part Jewish. All felt a need to reconnect with their heritage. This connection or reconnection was revolutionary, for most of this population had little or no knowledge or practice of any Jewish customs or observances. The few who had a Jewish tradition, such as Dr. Miller, had not been able to observe openly for over 30 years.
Our group was told several times that there is no anti-Semitism in Cuba. Castro visited the Patranato and seems supportive of it. But being a Jew in Cuba is not easy. The problems of being a Jew in Cuba are problems that any Cuban has, but multiplied. Transportation is a hardship for everyone. Few people have private cars (and most of those are the American vintage ones the country is famous for) and gasoline is expensive and scarce. If one doesn’t live near the synagogue, taking a bus can add two or three hours to get there and home. In spite of this, the Simchat Torah and Shabbat services we attended were nearly full. Cubans do not dwell on the difficulties they face in life.
Goods are hard to come by in Cuba, and Jewish items are especially rare. Mezuzahs, Shabbat candles, menorahs, prayer books and the like are not available and congregations must rely on other Jews, mostly from the United States, to bring these items to them.
In Cuba, a communist country, it is safe to attend services. The concrete barricades that surround Central and all New York synagogues and make sidewalk traffic so unwieldy and the Sanctuary doors harder to reach don’t exist there. There are no purse or package searches to slow entry. The doors to the synagogues are wide open and we were assured the building would not be a target for terrorists or vandals.
Our five day trip was crammed full of activities. The cigar factory was full of workers puffing away on cigars and cigarettes; the cigars are rolled by hand, often by beautiful women. In spite of the tedious nature of the work, the employees looked content at least while we were there. Posters in support of Cubans held in American prisons were displayed on the walls. The narrow staircases and crammed quarters would not be up to fire and union regulations in the United States today but working in this factory is considered a very good job and it is often a family tradition. The workers make about the same as a doctor would, with the potential for more if they exceed their cigar quota.
The United States has no official embassy in Cuba. Nevertheless there is a barricaded, Marine guarded compound called the U.S. Interests Section. Passports were inspected as we entered and we were able to meet with asst XXX and eventually with the head of the office, Richard Casson. “What do you think of the embargo?” asked one of the more outspoken congregants from Central. “I can’t give my personal opinion,” XXX answered. “The embargo was enacted by the US government in 1963 with the purpose of expediting the end of the Castro regime in Cuba.” At this point, Mr. Casson abruptly entered the room. He felt the Castro regime would end with a “biological solution.” But when, and what comes after this solution is still uncertain.
Adequate housing is a major problem in Cuba. There is no new construction and the only contemporary buildings we saw were the Museum of Cuban Art and our hotel, which was built by a Dutch company. It is illegal to buy a new house or apartment and several generations often live together since young couples cannot find their own place. There is a complicated method of trading living quarters but it seemed difficult and unwieldy.
We were able to visit a Cuban home. Beth Rudin Dewoody, a Central Synagogue congregant and member of our group has been to Cuba numerous times and has several friends in the community who are artists. The apartment we visited had been inherited from an elderly aunt who had no children and was fairly spacious for a couple with one child, but there was little furniture and the neighborhood was squalid. Alain, our guide considered it much nicer than his living quarters.
There are also food shortages. Fresh milk is only for children under six; the rest get powdered. The shelves of the ration store were nearly barren and Cubans survive only by also buying on the black market. We ate in several lovely restaurants with plenty of food, but our Cuban guests from the synagogues rarely see such largesse and were delighted to take the leftovers home. It was more than the convenience that an American would have in eating the leftovers or giving it to the dog. As honored guests we were treated to chicken nearly every day, but this is most unusual for Cubans. To tell them that chicken and beef are available every day even if you are not extraordinarily wealthy, and that rice is never rationed, is proof of America’s bounty.
When Ross Hayes, another member of our group arrived in Havana without his luggage, he was sent to a well stocked clothing store. The prices were reasonable for an American but prohibitive for a Cuban. But even if a native had the $25 for a faux Ralph Lauren shirt, he would not be allowed to enter the store. Such establishments are only for tourists.
The difficulties in everyday life are hidden from tourists. Havana seems a cheerful and colorful city, a Latin city with beautiful women and a tidy downtown area (except for the absence of leash laws). This is part of the reality of Cuba. The lack of trucks, the scarcity of buses and cars, the absence of sirens, helicopters and airplanes make it quieter, cleaner and more pleasant than most American or European cities. But the transportation is a crisis, as is the housing issue. And although Cuba has a well regarded medical school with free tuition to those who meet its high standards, doctors are often hampered by lack of medicines and supplies. The outrage that accompanied the flu vaccine shortage in this country would hardly be noticed there, and not only because criticizing the government is forbidden.
Our first evening in Havana was spent attending services for Simchat Torah. We read the last chapters of Deuteronomy, about the death of Moses, and then turn immediately to the first chapter of Genesis and God’s creation of the world. This shows our continuing cycle of worship, because study of the Torah has no beginning or end. In Cuba there was a 30 year gap in this cycle and it appeared there was an end. After an absence of so long, when a whole generation grew up without it, Jewish life and study has been resurrected. For the joy of the congregation we saw was palpable and the gift of Torah for them had a poignancy that was real. The Cubans benefited from the goods and medicine we brought them, but those things will need to be replenished. The Central congregants who went to Cuba left with a new understanding of the value of Jewish life and study, and that has no end.
