Valery Smirnov, with whom I spent seven months in prison, was a software specialist who had defected during a trip to Norway and had settled in America. He found work in his field, but he soon yearned for his wife and daughter. Living in a free society, he said, you quickly forget what the Soviet Union is really like. Incredibly, Valery decided to go back home to try to bring out his family. Despite assurances that he wouldn’t be arrested, Valery was met at the Moscow airport by a black Volga sedan. Without even seeing his wife and child, he was driven directly to Lefortovo and sentenced to ten years of strict camp regime.
My fellow prisoners were especially interested in hearing about my experiences with the KGB tails. One I enjoyed telling was how I could tell if I was being followed. Sometimes my tails would simply vanish, and it wasn’t always clear whether they had temprarily disappeared or had merely become more circumspect. I didn’t like guessing, so I’d go down into the subway, get on a train, and discretely stick my foot in the doorway. All the doors would close, except mine. It used to be that you could actually escape from your tails by this method, but they quickly learned all our tricks. And before long they, too, would be standing with their foot in the door, usually in the next car. You’d step out at the last minute, and they’d step out too. Suddenly you were alone with them on the empty platform and you’d greet them with a cheerful wave. Now you knew you were being followed and you could continue on your way.
Every morning after returning from the exercise yard we [Natan and a fellow political prisoner named Volodia Poresh] began our Bible study. Although we knew they could take the Bible away from us at any time, we made no effort to hurry. We decided to read from both the Old Testament and the New and to discuss what we had read. We called our sessions ‘Reaganite Readings,’ first, because President Reagan had declared either this year or the preceding one (it wasn’t exactly clear from the Soviet press) the Year of the Bible, and, second, because we realized that even the slightest improvements in our situation could be related only to a firm position on human rights by the West, especially by America, and we mentally urged Reagan to demonstrate such resolve….
“The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge,” Poresh read aloud from the words of King Solomon int he Book of Proverbs, and for me these words seemed to be a natural summation of long years of spiritual search. I wrote in my next letter home:
Perhaps this feeling is a necessary prerequisite for man’s achieving inner freedom, and is also a prerequisite for spiritual resolve. Perhaps the fear of the Lord is the only thin g that can conquer human fear, and all that remains for us is to repeat after King Solomon, “the fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge.” And if you want my opinion on the origin of the fear of God, whether it was bequeathed from on high or was cultivated by man himself through the course of history, this is essentially a question about the source of religion — that is, a question to which there will never be an answer. And while I am well aware how much blood has been spilled over this question, having realized that there is no answer, I am not even searching for it. Does it really matter where this religious feeling stems from? For me, the important thing is that this feeling really exists, that I sense its force and power over me, that it influences my deeds and my life, and that for ten years it has linked me with Avital [Sharansky’s wife] more concretely than any letters.
Yes, we were bound to each other not merely by memories or photographs or a few letters, but precisely by that elevated feeling of freedom from human evil and bondage to God’s covenant that lifted us above earthly reality. Volodia read how God’s angel instructed the prophet Elijah on how he would hear the divine voice: first there will be a storm that will crush the rocks, but God will not be in it; then an earthquake, but God will not be there; then a fire, but He is not there either; and finally, a quite wind — and there you will hear Him. Having passed through the storm of my struggle with the KGB for the right to emigrate, having undergone the earthquake of my arrest and the fire of cold punishment cells, I listened to the words of the Bible and through them Avital and I both heard and understood each other.
This marvelous reading continued for an entire month until they put us in different cells, and during that month the feeling grew stronger that no matter how different our paths, or how different our prayers, we were praying tot he same God, who instructed us to fear no evil as we entered the valley of death.
Half a year later, in July of 1984, I wound up int he same cell as Volodia for the last time, as his five years of imprisonment were due to end on August 1. But would he really be released? New orders had come out making the conditions in the punishment cell even harsher “with the purpose of intensifying its educative effect.” And the authorities had begun to apply the new law that enabled them to extend a prison term almost automatically for disciplinary violations. In the past two months the prison administration had punished VOlodia as often as possible — the punishment cell, followed by a strict regime [restricted rations and food only every other day], followed by another term int he punishment cell — and were probably doing this to justify the application of Article 188.3. It looked as if the KGB was willing to accept that yet another zek could leave the kingdom of the GULAG undefeated.
[Indeed, on the day of his scheduled release, Volodia Poresh was taken to another cell to await his a new trial. He was convicted and sentenced to another three years under Article 188.3 for “malicious violation of prison discipline.” His violation consisted of the fact that he somehow slept in the cell during the daytime, that on another occasion he didn’t sleep at night, and that he was also caught in an attempt to throw a note to a neighboring yard during the exercise period.]
What then is the solution? The only answer is to find the meaning of your current life. It’s best if you are left with only one hope — the hope of remaining yourself no matter what happens. Don’t fear, don’t believe, and don’t hope. Don’t believe words from the outside; believe your own heart. Believe in that meaning which was revealed to you in this life, and hope that you will succeed in guarding it.
European History 