Photo: Chief rabbi of Ukraine

Summary. The multifaceted impact of the ongoing ten-month war between Russia and Ukraine extends far beyond the Jewish population of these two countries. It profoundly affects Jewish communities across the post-Soviet space and the global diaspora of emigrants from the former USSR, residing in dozens of countries across five continents, particularly in regions of high concentration such as Israel, North America, and the EU. The migratory and cultural shifts triggered by the war are poised to reshape the identity and socio-cultural frameworks of both the global Russian-Jewish sub-ethnic group as a whole and its local components. Nonetheless, the Russian language, at least for the time being, is highly likely to retain its status as the lingua franca of this transnational diaspora.

Russian and Other Languages in Israel

The invasion of Ukraine by the Russian army on February 24, 2022, continues to exert a profound influence. This impact is felt not only by the Jewish population and organized Jewish movements within the post-Soviet space—most notably its two largest communities in Russia and Ukraine—but also by post-Soviet Jewish emigrant communities globally. These populations are concentrated heavily in Israel, North America, and the EU. How will these war-induced migratory and cultural processes reshape the transnational post-Soviet Jewish diaspora that emerged after the dissolution of the USSR in December 1991? Specifically, what will be the impact on the identity models and socio-cultural frameworks of the global Russian-Jewish sub-ethnic group and its local, regional, and national components?

This complex question, which currently lacks a definitive answer, involves numerous dimensions. One key aspect is the future of the Russian language, which has historically served as the undisputed lingua franca of the post-Soviet Jewish diaspora. Can we still assert that the "new Russian-Jewish sub-ethnic group" and "Russian-speaking Jewry" remain synonymous concepts? In other words, will Russian continue to serve as a visible linguistic marker for former Soviet Jewish communities in post-Soviet states, Israel, and the West, or at least as a universally accepted language for inter-community communication? Alternatively, will Russian-speaking Jews and their families rapidly and entirely abandon Russian in favor of the languages of their host countries—such as Ukrainian, Moldovan/Romanian, Latvian, English, or Hebrew? If so, the domain of the Russian language may become restricted to the Russian Federation (and possibly Belarus and Kazakhstan), representing only one, albeit major, segment of this transnational diaspora.

While long-term developments remain difficult to forecast, current trends suggest that, at least for the present generation, the first scenario is more likely. As observed by Maria Yelenevskaya and Larisa Fialkova, Russian as the lingua franca of the highly diverse community of emigrants from the 15 former Soviet republics in Israel successfully weathered the initial phase of the Russo-Ukrainian conflict. They noted similar patterns in Jewish and non-Jewish communities in other destination countries where, unlike in Israel, the preservation of the Russian language through media, professional retraining, and supplementary education does not enjoy institutionalized support.[1]

It is reasonable to expect that the current phase of the military conflict—unprecedented in the scale of armed confrontation and its impact on the populations of both countries, their Jewish communities, and the wider world—will qualitatively alter this landscape. However, at this juncture, such a shift cannot be definitively predicted.

A case in point is the cohort of the "military Aliyah" in Israel. A representative survey led by the author of immigrants who arrived between January and May 2022 indicates that, barring isolated cases, Russian remains the primary medium of communication. This is true not only for virtually all immigrants from Russia, but also for the vast majority of those from Belarus, and nearly two-thirds (65%) of those from Ukraine. Furthermore, approximately 17% of Ukrainian immigrants reported using both Russian and Ukrainian in their daily lives, a figure slightly lower than the nearly one-fifth of Ukrainian Jews who spoke exclusively Ukrainian. Notably, no significant linguistic divergence was observed across different age groups—a remarkable finding given the widespread rejection of all things associated with Russia, including its language and culture, in war-torn Ukraine.

The data also suggest that Russian is used somewhat more actively in daily communication by individuals with a universal Jewish identity (those who self-identify simply as "Jewish," without affiliation to a specific community or country). Conversely, those claiming a non-Jewish ethnic identity were significantly more likely to use the national languages of their host countries. Individuals with a localized Jewish identity ("Russian Jews," "Ukrainian Jews," etc.) were, predictably, more likely to report using both Russian and another language in equal measure. Nevertheless, the Russian language remains overwhelmingly dominant across all cultural-linguistic groups for daily communication.

Indeed, using Ukraine as the most telling example, a similar linguistic shift is occurring within Ukrainian society at large. According to a nationwide poll conducted by the Rating sociological group in March 2022, there has been a significant increase in the proportion of respondents identifying Ukrainian as their mother tongue—rising from 57% in 2012 to 76% at the time of the survey. Correspondingly, the proportion of respondents identifying Russian as their mother tongue decreased by more than half, from 42% to 20%. At the same time, the proportion of those who speak only Ukrainian in daily life rose marginally from 44% to 48%. The decline among self-reported Russian speakers is primarily due to their transition into the "bilingual" category, which grew from 15% to 32%.[2] The sociologists' conclusion that "linguistic self-identification and the language of daily communication operate on two distinct social levels" is highly applicable to the integration of new immigrants in Israel. A major, if not principal, vehicle for this integration is the established community of former Soviet emigrants, whose primary linguistic marker remains the Russian language (expressed either as the main language of daily communication or through Russian-Hebrew bilingualism), regardless of their specific country of origin.

The Experience of Emigrant Communities in the West

A similar pattern has been documented over years of research in Germany, home to the largest Russian-Jewish community in Europe[3], which, after Israel, has accepted the largest cohort of recent Jewish immigrants from the former USSR. While quantitative data is not yet available to determine whether new immigrants intending to settle in Germany and Europe long-term will adopt the established linguistic norms of this community (which, depending on the generation, entail Russian or Russian-German bilingualism) or introduce new cultural-linguistic standards, qualitative insights offer some direction.

At this stage, observers closely involved in the reception and integration of new Jewish immigrants in Germany almost unanimously support the first scenario, which aligns closely with the Israeli model. They report that Russian serves as the primary, and often exclusive, language of communication among recent arrivals, regardless of their country of origin, as well as in their interactions with earlier generations of Soviet emigrants. Russian also remains the dominant language at large-scale community events, despite a noticeable trend toward "Ukrainization" among a segment of the younger generation of Ukrainian emigrants.

If this trend holds, it is highly unlikely that we will see a departure from the established cultural-linguistic models in other Russian-Jewish diaspora communities that have received smaller numbers of recent immigrants and refugees from the former Soviet Union. This applies to large communities in the United States, Canada, and Australia, as well as to smaller enclaves in Central Europe (e.g., Austria, the Czech Republic) and Western Europe (France, the United Kingdom, and the Benelux countries).

Predicting the long-term outlook remains more challenging. For example, it is unclear whether established Jewish emigrants from Ukraine, who constitute roughly 40% of the Jewish population and community membership in Germany, will seek to distance themselves entirely from their Russian-language heritage should the current geopolitical and military crisis in Eastern Europe drag on. If such a shift occurs, newly arrived immigrants may well follow suit.

On the other hand, there is a clear distinction between younger German Jews from former Soviet families, who tend to favor acculturation into German society, and older immigrants, who show little inclination to leave their Russian-speaking environment, whether within organized Jewish communities or in broader society. This generational factor may help sustain the prominent role of the Russian language within Germany's Jewish communal landscape over the long term.

This dilemma will become even more pronounced if the next generation of leadership in local Jewish institutions is drawn from young individuals of post-Soviet descent whose cultural and linguistic preferences differ significantly from, or run counter to, those of the previous generation of Russian-Jewish community leaders and activists.

Conversely, one can envision a scenario where the status of the Russian language and Russian-Jewish culture is preserved or even reinforced, driven by dramatic geopolitical shifts in the post-Soviet space or a renewed wave of Russian-speaking Jewish migration to Europe.

While definitive answers to these questions belong to the future, it is highly unlikely that the communicative or ethno-symbolic status of the Russian language within this diaspora will be significantly undermined in the coming decades. Indeed, the model of "Russian Israel"—where, unlike in Europe, Russian-language culture carries a distinct Jewish character and is not perceived as a geopolitical threat[4]—is poised to set the tone for the transnational diaspora of former Soviet Jews as a whole.

This is particularly true if the projection of the Russian language surviving as the primary tool of communication and cultural identity for this transnational diaspora proves correct.

[1] Maria Yelenevskaya and Larisa Fialkova, “Linguistic Landscape and What It Tells us about the Integration of the Russian Language into Israeli Economy”, Russian Journal of Linguistics, 2017, 21 (3), p. 562

[2] "Rating" Sociological group. The Sixth Nationwide Survey: The Language Issue in Ukraine (March 19, 2022). Press-release, Kyiv, March 25, 2022. (Received by e-mail, May 25, 2022)

[3] Y. Michal Bodemann and Olena Bagno, “In the Ethnic Twilight: the Paths of Russian Jews in Germany,” in Bodemann, Y.M. (ed.) The New German Jewry and the European Context. New Perspectives in German Studies. Palgrave Macmillan, London, 2008, pp. 158 – 176; Eliezer Ben-Rafael, “Germany’s Russian-speaking Jews Between Original, Present and Affective Homelands,” in H. Fireberg and O. Glöckner (Eds.), Being Jewish in 21st-Century Germany (Berlin and Boston: De Gruyter, 2015), pp. 63 – 80; Eliezer Ben-Rafael, Olaf Glöckner and Yitzhak Sternberg, Jews and Jewish Education in Germany Today. Leiden: Brill, 2011

[4] Opinion of Mikhail Gurevich, member of the advisory board of the Russian Jewish Congress and prominent Israeli-Russian media manager. (Personal interview, Tel Aviv, June 2022)