The Israeli embassy in Kiev, Ukraine, was located in a large rectangular building located at 34 Lesi Ukrainky Boulevard. It was a classic example of the drab school of Soviet communist architecture. On the fourth floor, in a conference room adjacent to the office of the ambassador, sat a determined middle-aged man. His name was Noam Elbaz, a product of a Sephardic father whose family immigrated to Israel from Iraq and an Ashkenazic mother with roots from Russia. Noam was a short man with a powerful frame that made him seem taller than he actually was. He had unusually green eyes and a handshake so firm that his friends tried to avoid it whenever possible. In his role as a Mossad operative, Noam frequently found himself meeting with Israeli assets in the field of various European capitals. He had arrived by plane to Moldova the night before, where he was picked up by a Mossad operative and driven six hours to Kiev.
Noam had predicted that things were going to get bad even before he was summoned to Jerusalem to brief the foreign minister on the status of the Jewish community in Ukraine. By that point, it was already past the point of no return. Not even the Israeli prime minister’s stature in Eastern Europe or his warm relations with the West could help. Nothing could stem the tide of anti-Semitism and Israel bashing that had taken the country by storm. Constant nationalist propaganda, supported by the new regime, made every effort to lay the blame for Ukraine’s latest turmoil on its Jewish community. Added to that, the newly elected president had all but accused Ukraine’s Jewish community of prioritizing loyalty to Israel over their home country. He also publicly questioned whether Jews could be trusted in the face of turmoil with Russia. He disavowed a poster campaign that pictured the prime minister of Israel shaking hands and smiling with the president of Russia, but the advertisements were successful in rallying support for anti-Semitic theories that were making their way from the dark reaches of the internet into the national public discourse.
Today, like most days, protestors in front of the Israeli embassy made passage nearly impossible. Kiev’s finest had marked off a healthy perimeter surrounding the building. They created a safe space for the embassy staff to pass, but it made life miserable for the local businesses that lined the ground floor of the building. Protestors blamed Israel for nearly everything, from the president’s assassination to the global health crisis. They intimidated anyone passing by, especially those who appeared Jewish or were a member of the Israeli embassy staff. Not surprisingly, both Eli and Eitan had long ago given up on wearing their kippot in public. To approach the Israeli embassy with any outward sign of Jewish identification, especially near this raucous crowd, was inviting trouble. Bareheaded, the two rabbis were able to maneuver through a handful of protestors. The crowd paid them no mind as they made their way to the back entrance of the building. After passing through a security checkpoint, Eli and Eitan entered the conference room.
“Nice commute, gentlemen?” Noam offered as he motioned for the rabbis to take their seats opposite him. Eli was particularly pleased to reach his seat without succumbing to one of Noam’s handshakes, which usually left his hand radiating with pain.
Though Noam and Eli had worked together many times in the past, this was the first encounter for Eitan and Noam. When Eli first suggested that Eitan join the meeting, Noam had been dismissive. But after some convincing, he came to understand that Eitan’s connections in the Jewish world could be useful. Reluctantly, he gave Eli permission to bring him along for this meeting. Before the meeting, Eli gave Eitan strict instructions to lay low and keep his mouth shut. He did not want to tempt Noam’s ire and make him regret allowing Eitan to join them.
It had been a few months since Eli and Noam had met face-to-face. The last time was just after the “alleged” assassination of the Ukrainian president. At that point, the conspiracy theorists had been limited to a few chat rooms and far right-wing websites. They had not yet made their way into the Ukrainian public forum. In Tel Aviv, computer nerds in a non-descript government building were following every bit of anti-Semitic and anti-Israel chatter. No one initially suspected that these theories would go mainstream, even in a country like Ukraine that was always ripe for a good anti-Semitic outbreak. But times were different. Though anti-Semitism was always bubbling under the surface, today it was becoming more and more in vogue across the continent and even beyond.
“I remember the good old days when we met here, and I only had to endure an insult or two when I entered the building. But now it is getting like a war zone out there,” Eli explained. Eitan nodded his head in agreement, but Noam ignored him.
“All the more reason we need to get this information back to Israel as soon as possible. What do you have for me, Eli?”
“Well, simply put, the rules of the game are changing. The lessons of the past no longer hold sway, and to be honest, I am not certain there is a future for Jews here anymore.”
“Where have I heard that before? When have they ever wanted us here, Eli?”
“Never, but when are we going to start believing them?”
“You make a good point, Eli,” Noam conceded.
No one knew exactly how many Jews remained in Ukraine. Some estimates had the figure as high as three hundred thousand, while others calculated a more modest figure of one hundred thousand. In any event, Eli and Noam, two Israelis who believed time was not on their side, had begun working on a plan to get as many of them as possible out of danger.
Eli placed his briefcase on the coffee table in between the two men. He smoothly pulled out a dark green file loaded with various papers and photos. He removed one eleven-by-sixteen color photo of a young teenage girl in a flowery dress standing next to an older man in front of a Ukrainian police station.
“Everything we thought about her is true,” Eli told Noam. “The evidence is convincing, and I think it will be enough for Jerusalem and Washington.”
“It had better be, Eli, because without an airtight case to make to the international community, these bastards will never let us take these Jews out of here and bring them home,” Noam responded.
The assassination of the president was the climactic moment that had truly endangered Ukraine’s Jewish population. It did not matter that the deceased president was Jewish. Any controversy that caused destabilization was blamed on some version of a Jewish conspiracy. The near collapse of the economy as a result of the world health crisis and continued pressure from Moscow had brought Ukraine to its boiling point.
It was for that reason that Noam’s meeting with Eli and Eitan was so important. The information that was in his file may have been the only card that the Ukrainian Jewish community had left to play.
Officials at the highest levels of Israeli diplomacy were perplexed. They could think of no other way to convince Ukrainian President Kovalenko to permit a mass exodus of his country’s Jews to Israel other than to threaten him personally. The mood in the country was turning hard against Jews. Kovalenko hated the Jews, but he liked having them around to blame whenever a scapegoat was needed. To allow them to depart now would leave the president looking as if he were weak and unable to stand up to the international Jewish conspirators. Nothing he said publicly, or even in the few pieces of conversation the Mossad was able to decipher from his private calls, indicated any willingness to negotiate with Israel. Not even Washington could make any headway. Intelligence did not suggest that President Kovalenko himself was as virulent an anti-Semite as his wife appeared to be, but it was becoming more and more clear that his priority was maintaining his image at home. And while no one else in Europe really seemed to care about the impending plight of Ukraine’s Jews—and blaming the Jews for a variety of domestic issues had become so popular at home—he and his advisors believed a mass departure of Jews to Israel would be seen as capitulation. The result would be a public relations blow that could sink his new administration before it really gained any steam.
Many times, Noam and Rabbi Davidov met in Jerusalem, and each time the rabbi brought Noam actionable intelligence that made his job significantly easier. This assignment, however, had a lot more riding on it. Eli was once again prepared to deliver a valuable piece of information to Noam, but in Noam’s opinion, Eli lacked his usual air of self-confidence. Ukraine could do that to any Jew, especially one whose family’s blood soaked the land.
“It may not be easy to convince those who don’t want to hear it, but the evidence is compelling,” said Eli, with great faith in the results of his research.
Though she was now much older, anyone in Ukraine would immediately recognize the woman in the photo. Her features were striking. She had dark brown hair and penetrating hazel eyes. Her signature oversized black sunglasses rested on top of her head. She was Ulyanna Kovalenko, wife of the new Ukrainian President Pietor Kovalenko. This woman harbored a deep family secret. Her aunt and uncle who raised her had done everything possible, personally and professionally, to conceal her past for her own protection. Both were lawyers who fought for the most disadvantaged in Ukrainian society. They’d co-authored several books on how to improve the legal system in order to limit corruption. They had taken their well-earned place among the intellectual elite in Ukrainian society. But no matter how many good deeds they did or how stellar their reputation, they could not stop Rabbi Eli Davidov and his American colleague from Miami from discovering the secret they had worked so hard to keep hidden.