Graf Potocki and Kiddush Hashem

 

The name “Graf Potocki” was a household name, at least during the years that I grew up in the early days of the State of Yisrael. It was generally used to describe someone who is very wealthy or one who lives beyond their means.

Kiddush Hashem (Sanctification of G-d), the second part of the titular name, as many Jews may know, is the act of suffering martyrdom rather than being disloyal to our Jewish faith and to our G-d.

What then, some may ask, are these two doing next to each other in the above heading? And why  write about it now?

The mystery shrouded life story of Graf Valentine Potocki was the subject of a thirty-year research conducted by Dr. Sophie Ben Artzi. Her book “The Felled Bough of Graf Potocki,” is a historical novel which shares the untold story of Valentine Potocki.

Born in 1700 in Vilna, Lithuania, he was the only son of a noble and prominent Catholic Polish family that was well known for its wealth and the many estates it owned including the city of Vilna. His parents, devout Catholics sent him to a seminary and were hoping to educate him for priesthood.

At some stage, tells us Ben Artzi, Potocki, together with another young friend were sent by the king on a secret mission to Paris. They ended up staying in Paris longer than expected and decided to attend university. During that time, they frequented a local tavern which was owned by an old Jewish man who used every available moment to study Torah. It was through this man that Valentine Potocki and his friend, were first introduced to Judaism.

Despite the prohibition to convert to Judaism, which according to Polish law was punishable, at that time, by death, Potocki decided to move to Amsterdam where he converted to Judaism. He became Avraham Ben Avraham.

Converting to Judaism did not mean just risking one’s life, as was the case with Potocki. It also entailed many sacrifices, breaking off relationships with family and friends as well as perhaps giving up a promising future – all to join an often despised and persecuted faith.

Subsequent to his conversion and resolved to keep his newly embraced religion, Potocki returned to Lithuania. He settled in the small town of Lida where he was hoping to evade as much as possible being recognized and identified. His own family, who initially believed him to be dead, learned about his conversion, enlisted its influential connections, and searched for him in the hope of bringing him back to Christianity.

One day, a fellow Jew, with whom Avraham was having a dispute, reported him to the authorities. Avraham was arrested, interrogated, and tortured terribly. He admitted to having converted to Judaism. Despite being offered a pardon, wealth, and honour in return for acknowledging Christianity, he adhered to his adopted faith until the moment that he was burned at the stake.

It happened on the 7^th day of Sivan, 24^th of May 1749. It was the second day of the Holy Day of Shavuot, when Jews commemorate the giving of the Torah at Mount Sinai and which Jews, the world over, will be celebrating in less than a week

Jewish leaders warned members of their community not to leave their homes for fear of pogroms following Abraham's execution. Jews remained in their homes and the synagogues were empty. Only one Jew risked his life to be there next to Avraham ben Avraham.

It is said that Rabbi Alexander Ziskind, the author of Yesod Veshoresh Ha’avoda (The Foundation and Root of the Service [of G-d]) arrived and stayed with Avraham many hours before his death. Rabbi Ziskind's sole purpose for arriving was to ensure that there be at least one Jew to recite the Amen over the blessing uttered by Avraham, in front of the many gentiles who witnessed his heroic act. “Blessed are thou Lord, Our G-d who has sanctified us in His commandments and commanded us to sanctify His name,” were Avraham’s last words before he jumped into the fire.

The Catholic church which regarded the event as contemptuous, forbade the burial of his ashes. Only after one of the members of the community offered bribe  was part of his ashes  handed over and buried in the Jewish cemetery. It is said that Rabbi Eliyahu, the Vilna Gaon, requested to be buried next to to the burial place of Avraham the Righteous convert.

Rabbi Meir Kagan, Ha’Chafetz Chayim wrote about Avraham Ben Avraham, “If ten people were present to say Kadish when the righteous convert ZT”L was burnt at the stake, Mashiach would have come instantly.”

Yours truly was at the grave of the Vilna Gaon, I saw the sign indicating where Avraham ben Avraham’s ashes were laid to rest. It is hard to describe the feeling. I believe Dr. Ben Artzi describes it best in the following deeply moving words:

“It was a very constitutive moment for me. I felt a bright light erupting from the grave and illuminating the words which I have seen countless times in the past, ‘here are buried the ashes of a righteous convert, Avraham Ben Avraham.’ I do not how to express the moment in words, but I did shake all over. I knew the story…. But I never delved into it. Suddenly that sentence pulled me like magic chords.”

Defying the Odds

 He was born as Arkadi. He is now Arik. His twin brother was named Misha. Now he goes by the name Michael.

Arik and Michael came into the world in very unlikely circumstances. They were born in what is known, nowadays, the Ukraine, to a Jewish mother, Dr. Marina Yanovsky and an African Muslim father, Dr. Ibrahim Msengi.

Both their parents attended medical school in the former Soviet Union, during the 1980’s. As Arik likes to describe it, in his witty sense of humour, they “met for a cup of coffee and nine months later he and his twin brother came into the world.”

Well, not exactly the case, as Arik shared with me during our interview.

Marina and Ibrahim were together for five years. When Arik and Michael were one year old, Ibrahim was forced to leave the Soviet Union when he faced difficulties with the renewal of his visa. He returned to his native home in Tanzania.

Marina and their sons lost contact with him. The only shred of validation of him ever being part of their life was the retention of his last name, Msengi.

Though Arik and his brother were aware of the identity of their father, they vaguely knew anything about him. They never missed him nor felt deprived of his presence in their lives. They were showered with warmth and love by their mother, grandmother, and aunt.

Even though, prior to the fall of the iron curtain and the dismantling of the Soviet Union, ethnic and religious affiliations were under suppression, Arik and Michael were raised on a strong Jewish identity. Arik recalls how his grandmother shared with him stories about the Shoah and describes his mother as “Jewish to her core.”

In 1990, Arik, Michael, their mother, and aunt moved to Yisrael and settled in Be’er Sheva. In accordance with the family’s strong Jewish essence, they were finally free to live as Jews and fully connect to the Jewish culture. One of the manifestations of that linkage was when Arik and Michael celebrated their Bar Mitzvah at the Kotel.

Following their discharge from the IDF, Arik and Michael, like many young Yisraelis, decided to take some time off and travel the world. Africa was their first pick. Naturally, Tanzania came into mind and that choice gave birth to their resolve to visit Tanzania and try to trace the whereabouts of their biological father.

Arik Msengi

When the two embarked on that adventure, and found themselves in Dar Es Salaam, the biggest city in Tanzania, they had no clue as to where he might be. Since he was a medical doctor, the twins decided to start looking at the local hospitals and medical clinics in the hope that someone might know or has, perhaps, heard the name Dr. Ibrahim Msengi. Their efforts, so it seemed, produced no results.

However, just as they were about to give up their search, someone mentioned to them that in one of the state’s districts, there was a governor by that same name.

They followed that lead. Needless to mention the surprise that overcame Dr. Msengi when he was told that two young Yisraelis had been asking about him and claimed to be his sons. He was never aware that Marina and their children had retained their Jewish identity and emigrated to Yisrael.

When Arik and Michael arrived at his governor’s manor in the district which their Dr. Msengi controlled, they were dumbfounded. It was situated on a large estate with perfectly manicured gardens which were spotted with different animals roaming freely. Dr. Msengi and his other children, along with their extended family, were waiting for them with open arms. As the, somewhat overwhelmed, young men discovered, their father had been married to a Christian woman (who had passed away) and sired children. It turned out to be a very emotionally charged reunion, one which forged three faiths, Islam, Christianity and of course, Judaism, into one cohesive unit. 

The twins asked to call their mother in Yisrael so that she could also be part of that unexpected occasion. Marina and Ibrahim broke into a” fountain of conversation,” in Russian, their former language of communication. They finally had the opportunity to catch up after all these years.

Arik and Michael stayed at the manor for a while. Their father took them on excursions around the county and showered them with love and attention. Following their departure, they vowed to never lose contact with each other. He even visited them in Yisrael a few times and loved it.

For the last twelve years, Arik has been working as a tour guide, specializing in Africa. He learned to speak Swahili and considers Tanzania his second home. Michael moved to Tanzania, married a local woman and through a company that he set up there, represents western interests locally.

What an inspiring story of overcoming challenges, one that hails the victory of determination despite the odds, a story with a cheerful ending, the kind we all year to hear more and more.

May the coming calendar year shower us with many such accounts of reunification with happy outcomes.

Every blessing