The Habad movement emerged within the scope of Hasidism at the end of the 18th century. It got its name from the abbreviation of the words “hohma”, “bina” and “daat” which mean “wisdom”, “understanding” and “knowledge”. The founder of the movement was Rabbi Shneur-Zalman of Liadi, also known as Alter-Rebe (Old Rebe). The first Habad yeshiva, in our contemporary understanding of the term, “Tomhey tmimim” (“Supporting the solid”) was founded in 1897, in Lubavichi – the residence of the Lubavich Rebe, by the Fifth Rebe Sholom-Dov-Ber Shneerson (Rashab) (1860-1920). Fairly soon, the yeshiva became one of the largest educational institutions of this sort: by 1917, three hundred people had been studying in its affiliations scattered all over the country. At a later stage, the name became, so to say, a “brand” for a whole network of higher religious educational institutions opened by Habad in different countries.In the USSR, which replaced the Empire of Russia, all the official yeshivas were closed down soon after the revolution, while most of the non-official groups were dispelled in the 1920s. Only the Habad yeshivas continued to function illegally throughout the whole of the Soviet period almost up to its end. The most famous among them was the yeshiva founded in the 1940s, in Samarkand, which later moved to Tashkent.

 

The gradual liberalization and the consequent fall of the Soviet regime led to the restoration of the network of legal yeshivas. In 1989, the yeshiva “Tomhey Tmimim” was founded in Moscow. It was first quartered in the Maryina Rosha synagogue. Today, the yeshiva has a complex of premises near Moscow. In 1993, a yeshiva under the same name was opened in Saint Petersburg. Today, in the CIS territory, there are, all in all, about 15 yeshivas most of which bear the name “Tomhey Tmimim”. Normally, the yeshiva tends to enroll young men between 16 and 25 years of age, though, officially, there are no age limitations. The term of training is 3 to 4 years. The main goal of training is the breeding of a sound personality, devoted to Jewry and forming his life on the commandments of Torah and the values of Hasidism.

 

As for the curriculum, this is what the Moscow yeshiva “Tomhey Tmimim” offers: a scrupulous study of the original texts, Jewish history, the logic of the Talmud, the basics of Jewish law, Jewish philosophy, Hasidism, the learning of Hebrew, Yiddish and Aramaic, professional training of shochets, mohels, soyfers and the art of cantor. The main difference between the curricula of Habad yeshivas and those of other orthodox yeshivas lies in the fact that the former, besides the study of the “open Torah” (Talmud and Jewish law), are also involved in the systematic study of the Hasidism teaching. In some institutions, we can come across certain “local particularities”. For instance, the yeshiva “Machon Ran” opened by Itzhak Cohen, Rabbi of the synagogue in Bronnaya street, makes special emphasis on the training of shochets, since the community experiences an acute lack of these specialists. The profession of mashgiach, expert on kashrut, is also quite popular.

As for smiha, the diploma of a rabbi, it happened only twice as yet that the graduates of Russia’s yeshivas were awarded smihas it – in the years of 2009 and 2010 (12 people all in all). Up to then, yeshibotnics striving to receive a smiha, continued their education in Habad yeshivas in Israel and the U.S. The total number of young men studying in yeshivas in the post-Soviet space is not great. For instance, there are less than 50 students in the Moscow yeshiva “Tomhey Tmimim”, about 20 in the St. Petersburg yeshiva and in the rest of the yeshivas there are, on the average, from 10 to 20 people in each of them. It is worthy of note that among the students there are not only natives of the CIS countries: for instance, in the Moscow yeshiva” Tomhey Tmimim” there are young men from the Republic of South Africa and France undergoing training. The first yeshibotnics arriving in Kharkov in 2005 were Americans.

 

Looking into the problems of the Jewish religious education in the post-Soviet space, I would, first of all, mention the “human factor”. As we all know, a good yeshiva rests on two pillars – teachers who can teach their subject well, and capable students who are highly motivated to study. As far as the first factor is concerned, my assessment of the teachers in our yeshivas is quite high. As concerns the students, the situation here is much worse. Their motivation and the level of their preliminary preparation leave much to be desired.

However, this is not the fault but, rather, misfortune of our students. Indeed, at what age did the traditional education of our ancestors (and those in the present orthodox world, come to think of it) begin? The answer is: at the age of three. Whereas, our yeshibotnics enter the yeshivas at quite a mature age. Furthermore, they have to master the same amount of knowledge as their peers from normative traditional families, meaning that they have to learn, in a short period of time, all that their counterparts have been already learning for 12 to 13 years, which , sets up an overstrained level of requirements. On the other hand, these requirements are the best barrier in the way of people who look upon the yeshiva as a possibility to spend several years at the expense of the community doing nothing. Daily 15-hour-long studies and weekly tests will frighten away anyone who merely wants to be a “social parasite” – the input of effort is not worthwhile.

This discrepancy persists, despite the freedom of conscience which has existed in the CIS countries for already 20 years. Jewish schools (to be more precise, state schools with a “Jewish ethnocultural component”) which exist in a number of cities are more likely to offer their pupils an “ethnographic” perception of Judaism. As a result, a Jewish young man entering the yeshiva, more often than not, only knows the Hebrew alphabet and has a vague idea about the holidays and rites. Possessing a relatively great amount of knowledge about various things, he, nonetheless, knows almost nothing about their meaning and mission.

 

A different situation can be seen only in a small number of Moscow educational institutions. At the same time, we can observe, as a result of the educating activity of communities, the formation of a new phenomenon – ethnically Russian Jews. Today, in my estimation, up to 80% of the pupils of Jewish educational institutions come from families of cross marriages. There appears a new cultural-religious phenomenon when Jewishness is embraced not only by baaley tshuva from assimilated Jews, but also by people who can, by right, regard themselves as other ethnicities. As a result of this process, there may appear a new ethno-religious group of Russian Jews where the word “Russian” can be used without inverted commas. Another problem that all the yeshivas in the post-Soviet space are constantly faced with is lack of finance. I do not know a single educational program that is fully provided for by everything it needs. This is only natural, since the majority of sponsors are more interested in humanitarian programs than in financing yeshivas or, come to think of it, in other educating and instructional projects. This kind of support more agrees with the mentality of a lot of businessmen than rendering help to the yeshiva. The way I see it, this is a natural outcome of the fact that the most part of our philanthropists do not seek Jewish knowledge and their actions are, rather, motivated by Jewish sentiments which, are, naturally, more likely associated with the humanitarian realm.

Yet another problem closely connected with the previous one is the prob- lem of employment upon finishing the course of studies. It is a sore subject. On the face of it, it all looks simple enough: in the post-Soviet space, there are several hundred Jewish communities, while the number of rabbis is almost ten times less. Alas, the simplicity is but superficial. Contrary to the existing stereotype, the Jewish communities are quite poor and they cannot afford the upkeep of a rabbi. There are also communities which have enough money for the upkeep of a rabbi, but it often happens that the rabbi himself cannot find money to pay a salary to the assistants he needs. So, to a great extent, it all depends on the efficiency and capability of the yeshibotnik himself to find a suitable place. Others take any job that comes their way since the Jewish religious education does not train for any profession – it only equips a person with a capacity to live a true spiritual life founded on traditional Jewish values. (However, it also trains one in discipline thinking and develops the ability to analyze information, which might be of great help in the future). This kind of situation is quite typical, though lamentable. In Russia, for instance, according to some statistics, up to 70% or 80% of liberal arts colleges’ graduates do not work in their profession but use the accumulated skills and cultural equipment to find employment in other spheres.