It is the end of an era. A dreaded vestige of the Soviet past has faded away in Russia — bringing with it, perhaps, some of the same, difficult choices for Russian Jews that their American counterparts have long faced.
In September, Russia began issuing new identity papers emblazoned with a double-headed eagle instead of the communist-era hammer and sickle.
The new papers include one change particularly welcome among Russian Jews. The infamous “fifth paragraph” — the declaration of nationality that reinforced Soviet-era discrimination against minorities — was dropped.
For the first time in Russian history, those who receive the papers will be identified simply as residents of Russia.
The clause was dropped after complaints that it contributed to ethnic discrimination against non-Russians.
“The idea was to bring the practice in line with the Russian Constitution, which says a person cannot be forced to indicate nationality,” an official with the Russian Interior Ministry was quoted as saying.
Although communist leaders spoke of creating a “new historical commonality” that would replace dozens of nationalities that inhabit the country, they, like the czars before them, officially labeled residents by ethnic identity.
Nationality was known as the “fifth paragraph,” or the “fifth line,” because when it was first introduced by Stalin in 1932, it came fifth on the passport, after full name, date of birth, place of birth, and social origin — such as worker, peasant or serviceman.
Ethnic Russians, who made up half of the Soviet Union’s population, profited in study, work and politics.
Others — including Jews, Tatars and Germans — suffered from prejudice.
Jews were among those who suffered the most.
“I’ve always been embarrassed to show my passport,” said Grigoriy Shiller, a 73-year-old former worker at a Moscow printing house. “So many bad things in my life had been connected with the `fifth line.'”
Children of mixed marriages could choose which parent’s nationality to declare when they turned 16.
Taking Russian nationality was considered to be the smart option. For children who had one Jewish parent, the choice was especially critical because entrance into many universities and government jobs was closed to Jews, and travel abroad was difficult for those who held “Jewish” papers.
Viktoria Osipova, 26, is three-quarters Jewish and one-quarter Armenian. When she applied for her identity papers, her family insisted that she list her nationality as Armenian — to avoid possible discrimination in the future.
“My parents knew that putting down `Jewish’ would bring inevitable complications in life and career,” said Osipova, a real estate broker in Moscow.
Osipova was not alone.
According to Mikhail Chlenov, president of the Va’ad, the Jewish Federation of Russia, no more than 5 percent of those born to a family with one Jewish parent chose to put “Jewish” on their papers.
Said Vladimir Shapiro, a leading Jewish sociologist in Russia, “For three generations of Soviet Jews, the `fifth paragraph’ was a constant trauma and stress.
“People believed that what was written on the `fifth line’ was like a curse, that it marked you for an entire life.”
While being listed as “Jewish” is unlikely to lead to any discrimination in 1997, Shapiro said, “historic memory is so strong that people will be happy to get rid of this almost demonic identifier.”
But the change also brings with it the worry that Russian Jews might become subject to the same threat of disappearance that currently plagues the American Jewish community.
Paradoxically, the “fifth line” — and the discrimination that it brought with it — often helped people remember their Jewishness. With the high rates of assimilation, intermarriages and secularization among Soviet Jewry, it is hard to overestimate the importance that the “fifth line” had for the survival of Soviet Jewry, experts say.
The passport change brings the Russian Jewish community closer to the Jewish communities of the West, said Chlenov.
“This is a step toward gradually changing the nature of the Jewish community here,” he said. “Now, it is going to be a community of Jews by choice.”
Predicted demographer Mark Kupovetsky, “It will take a maximum of two generations of such families to forget about the Jewish roots.”
Chlenov said the change could lead to the creation of a new identity among Russia’s Jews.
“Dropping the fifth line will make me think harder how should I explain to my children what being Jewish means,” said Savely Belenkiy, a 33-year-old Moscow engineer.
“Before the `fifth paragraph’ was doing much of this job for me.”
Russia is not the first former Soviet republic to begin issuing papers without the nationality identification.
In the past three years, Ukraine and Lithuania, among others, have begun issuing similar papers.
Earlier this year, Belarus began issuing new internal papers in which the line that notes its citizens’ nationality remained, but this record became optional.
Latvia retained nationality in its new papers, which it introduced a few years ago.
The Archive of the Jewish Telegraphic Agency includes articles published from 1923 to 2008. Archive stories reflect the journalistic standards and practices of the time they were published.
