Wild West and Ukraine
Sermon on Rodeo Shabbat, Vayakhel 5782
My friends, I had prepared a fun sermon for tonight, remembering the very real presence of Jews in so many parts of the wild west, including 19th century Jewish mayors of Tucson, the Jewish version of the Boot Hill Cemetery in nearby Tombstone, the important role that Jewish pioneers, trappers, mountain-men, miners, merchants, and entrepreneurs played throughout the Wild and not-so-Wild West. I was prepared to tell you about some of my own relatives, who had stores in the gold country of California, but also about Wyatt Earp’s Jewish common-law-wife Josephine Marcus, about mining towns like Seligman, Arizona, and the Seligman and Guggenheim families who built railroads and mines that helped open up the Arizona Territory. I was going to talk about Jacob Isaacson, who founded the town we now know as Nogales, straddling the border with Mexico so no one had to pay import taxes on any transaction, and the way Levi Strauss and his partner Jacob Davis put rivets into jeans and created western wear.
I was planning on sharing stories of Jewish outlaws and lawmen, of peddlers and soldiers, of Jewish cowboys and ranchers and schoolteachers in the backcountry of Oregon—that would be my own grandmother—and all about the actual men and women who built Jewish life here in the heart of the western desert, and in the western mountains and on its rivers and coastlines. It’s a fun and fascinating story, worth singing ballads about and writing history books and novels and making films about, too. And since this is Rodeo Shabbat here in Tucson, Arizona, one of the original great cowtowns of the west and home to many a lawman and outlaw, it seemed like the perfect Friday night to tell that tale.
I have often wondered why the Western is such a perennial favorite of filmmakers. Westerns go in and out of fashion, of course, but eventually they always come back, in one form or another. It it’s not movies like Stagecoach or High Noon or The Oxbow Incident or The Good the Bad and the Ugly or Tombstone or Silverado or the Unforgiven or True Grit, then it’s TV series from The Cisco Kid to Bonanza to The Big Valley to Deadwood to Yellowstone. What is it that we find so satisfying about westerns?
I believe a big part of it is that there is, in nearly every Western, a climactic scene in which the good guys win, or at least die trying. They always take out the villain, in the end, and justice, a rude form of justice but justice nonetheless, is seen to triumph. Sure, some good guys go down, and it’s a rough climax, always, but in that shootout at high noon the guy in the black hat finally takes a fall.
Well, my friends, it turns out that this is a strange time to be celebrating Rodeo Shabbat. The Russian invasion of Ukraine is reaching Kyiv even as we meet for services tonight, a full-scale, unprovoked land war in Europe exploding as an act of pure aggression by Russian dictator Vladimir Putin. People are dying right now all across Ukraine. Russia has command of the air and is attacking everywhere in the country. Ukraine is fighting back, and there will be guerilla actions as well against the Russians, but Putin has invaded his neighbor with overwhelming force.
And there is not likely to be any sheriff wading into the main street of that brutal act of war and calling out the bad guy, Vladimir Putin, as black a black hat as we have on the world stage today. It doesn’t work that way in international affairs. There is no OK Corral shootout to end this horrific attack, this baseless invasion of a weaker neighbor. We shouldn’t expect the cavalry to come riding in, or John Wayne or Clint Eastwood to show up with a Colt or a Winchester and save the outnumbered, outgunned, overmatched Ukrainians when the local Russian bullies have jet fighters and missiles.
When Russia invaded the Crimea and took it away from Ukraine almost eight years ago, the world responded with tepid disapproval. After all, there were many ethnic Russians in Crimea, it had been colonized by Catherine the Great in the 18th century, really it could just be part of Russia. And Russia has nuclear weapons, and Russia is so close to Crimea, and war is horrible, so what can we really do?
But you see, when a bully wins by simply bullying others he or she learns an important lesson: she or he can just keep right on bullying without fear of real consequences. I’m afraid that this is just another step in a chain of aggression that Putin has planned. And I’m also afraid that if the west doesn’t do more than impose some economic sanctions this process of re-empiring Russia will continue.
We have seen dictatorial aggression before. There are no innocent bystanders when a person like Putin is on the loose, sharing friendship with fellow totalitarian dictators like Xi in China, who watch just how far the west will go to protect democracy, political integrity, and freedom of the press and conscience.
I’m going to share now a letter that I received just three hours ago from a rabbinic colleague, written by a Russian co-worker of his son in a multi-national company. I will preserve the anonymity of the author and the employee, but otherwise read what he sent from Moscow this afternoon:
Team, friends and colleagues in Ukraine, in the US, and other locations.
Over the past two days, I've spoken with many members of the Russian team, and I can say with confidence that I speak on their behalf now.
First and foremost, my thoughts are with everyone in Ukraine right now, in particular with our friends and colleagues [names omitted here]. I am concerned for their safety and well-being as well as that of their families, and I am saddened to hear of the measures they've had to personally take to protect themselves.
Second, I am deeply worried, shocked, and concerned by Russia's aggression against Ukraine. This is a black page in Russian history. I personally have never felt so ashamed for my country. The past few days have been incredibly difficult to focus as I think about our team there. I am overwhelmed with bewilderment, guilt and remorse. I feel responsibility as a citizen of Russia, and I feel that every Russian citizen should as well. It's our government. It's our army. We can't just completely distance ourselves from this.
Yet, I feel powerless to stop it.
Unfortunately, Putin's Russia today is not a country of freedom where everyone can openly express their feelings or elect their government. We do not have free and fair elections, and even the act of protesting is dangerous. Police beat, arrest, and sentence people to prison for only speaking out against the government. A year ago, I joined such a protest myself. After my wife registered with one of the opposition groups, the police came to our house and threatened us. Even large protests are unlikely to help, as the government just ignores the voice of people, knowing that they can't lose an election. Within the past year, leaders of groups and political parties that oppose Putin have been either imprisoned or forced to move abroad. Courts are corrupt. Fair trials do not exist. We've seen young people imprisoned [just] for posting dissident messages on social media.
Russia today is a dictatorship. We live in a police state where free speech is non-existent. That dictatorship is propped up by widespread propaganda. There is no independent media here, so many who live here are completely misinformed as to the truth. Elections are nothing more than theater, with opposition candidates banned from participating. As an ordinary citizen, I feel powerless to change the situation in this country and to stand up to our government in any way that doesn't involve violence.
Russia is also my homeland. It is a beautiful country with great people, a wonderful culture, beautiful cities and nature, and a rich history. I was born in Moscow and have lived in this unique and amazing city for the past 35 years. I love Russia as a country. And I hope as the world looks on at us today, they separate the country from the state – the government. As Garry Kasparov once put it: "Every country has its own mafia, and only in Russia [dpes] the mafia have its own country."
I wish the streets were full of massive anti-war protests right now. Some brave people, including friends of mine, actually gathered on the streets yesterday to protest, but that was quickly suppressed by police before a critical mass accumulated. Over 1700 people were arrested, and some may be sent to prison.
When you see me working at my job, and not rising up against my government, I ask you not to see it as a lack of support for my friends and colleagues and their country. "Shame," "anger," and "powerlessness" are the three words I've heard the most within my circles in social media, from friends and family, yesterday and today, even from those who don't usually speak about politics.
I can't begin to express how sad and concerned I am for our Ukrainian colleagues right now and for their families and friends. I sincerely hope this insanity will end soon, and I wish there was a way I could provide some tangible support instead of just saying these words.
As many in Russia do, I have personal connections to Ukraine. My surname is Ukrainian, and my great grandparents via my father's line were from Ukraine.
Peace and safety in Ukraine must be the world's top priority today, no matter what the circumstances are.
This is not my way; I say "no" to it, and I am deeply sorry for it.
Please take care. All my thoughts are with Ukraine and our friends and colleagues there.
Perhaps it is time, on this Rodeo Shabbat, to assess what the western ideal of freedom really means, and just how far we will go to assure that others can experience it. Perhaps it is time for us to associate our regional ideals, expressed in books and film and TV, that no one has the right to bully and dominate his or her people, and certainly not other, innocent peoples who just happen to live nearby. Perhaps it’s time for us to ask our own leaders to live up to these western ideals now, before it again becomes too late and our world gets dominated by corrupt authoritarians and tyrannical autocrats.
Because if we can do that now, well, then maybe next Rodeo Shabbat we can rejoice more fully in the heritage we lay claim to.