BECAUSE WE WERE ONCE SLAVES
Rabbi Jason Gwasdoff
Pesach 5760 --2000


There we stood, shoulder to shoulder, a sea of humanity as far as the eye could see. Over a quarter of a million strong, we converged on Washington D.C. from every corner of the country to raise our voices as Moses did to Pharaoh: "Let my people go!" It was 1987, the first year of my rabbinate, and I flew in from Miami that cold December day to march in what was the largest gathering of the movement to Free Soviet Jewry. The organizers optimistically expected 30-40 thousand, and planned ground transportation accordingly. By 10:00 a.m. the whole system was totally overwhelmed. But nothing would stop this determined multitude from converging on the Capital Mall and participating in this historic gathering. By bus, by taxi, on foot, we made our way to that expanse of lawn bordered by two important symbols of democracy, the Washington monument and the US Capitol.
As I looked out over the seemingly endless crowd I had visions of my ancestors, the Children of Israel, making their historic march across the desert and through the Red Sea. They were leaving behind the degradation of their captivity, nervously anticipating an uncertain future, but they were singing songs of liberation and hope. With that same spirit and conviction, the voices raised in Washington on that December day were calling for an end to the repression and bondage of the Jews of the Soviet Union.
Little did we know that in a few short years our dreams would come true. The Soviet Union and its Communist regime dissolved, and the gates, closed for so many years, burst open. More than a million Jews have left the FSU seeking freedom and opportunity. They live in Israel, in the United States, and in other free countries, and pursue their dreams and aspirations. They give thanks that their children and grandchildren will grow up free, and will not taste the bitterness of their forbearer's captivity.
The redemption in Egypt is one of the seminal experiences of the Jewish people. It defines us and our passion for justice, "for we were slaves in the land of Pharaoh." More than an ancient story of liberation, it is a timeless lesson about the importance of freedom. The Hagaddah, the book we read at our Passover seder intones, "In every generation you are obliged to see yourselves as if you, had come out of Egypt." In times of persecution, this admonition has been a source of optimism and hope that one day redemption would come. In times of security and prosperity, it is a reminder not to take freedom for granted. It must be protected and safeguarded at all costs. And our redemption obligates us to strive for a better world for all people, to abolish slavery and degradation wherever it is found.
This year, the lesson of the Exodus is best personified in the saga of Ilan Gonzalez, the six year old Cuban boy who watched his mother die while trying to bring him to freedom. The natural and legal rights of the father over the local relatives to claim custody of Ilan are easily understood. We tend to agree that, in most cases, a child should be with one or both of his parents. So why all the fuss, especially on the part of the Cuban American community? Well, many of them know, first hand, the repression of Castro's regime. They have relatives or good friends who died trying to cross the ocean that separates us, and they have friends and family who suffer human rights abuses or have had their dreams cut short by a system that suppresses public dissent, and freedom of speech.
I don't know if Juan Gonzalez, Ilian's father, ever read about the struggles of the Jews of the former Soviet Union or about those who worked tirelessly to secure their freedom, or if he ever read the biblical account of the Exodus from Egypt. I seriously doubt that he ever ate matzah or attended a Passover seder. If he did, he might be moved to better understand why this is a difficult issue for us here. For Americans and for Jews, freedom is an essential value. It is worth fighting and dying for, and is deserving of sometimes difficult and painful sacrifices.
Some will argue that this debacle is all about politics. I think it is more about a passion for freedom, about a beautiful little boy whose story reminds us of our yearning to breath free.