While Jews in Israel and around the world prepare for the High Holidays, the reality in Ukraine's capital is entirely different. For more than two and a half years, the sounds of air-raid sirens, missile interceptions, and explosions have become part of daily life for Kyiv's residents. Within this complex, turbulent, and dangerous reality, Rabbi Yonatan Binyamin Markovitch, chief rabbi of Kyiv and official Chabad emissary to the city, continues his work without pause, leading Jewish communal life and refusing to let up.
In a special interview with Yossi Sergovsky on Kikar Shabbat, Rabbi Markovitch opens a window into the life of the Jewish community under constant fire, describes daily miracles of survival, and shares with emotion an unprecedented spiritual awakening born precisely from the brokenness and hardship.
"Shrapnel Falls in the Streets, But Prayer Never Stops"
"No day is like another," Rabbi Markovitch begins. "Air-raid sirens can catch us in the middle of morning prayers, during a study session with community members, or while distributing food packages to the needy and elderly. In recent weeks, attacks on Kyiv have only intensified. Almost every night the skies are lit up with interception battles, and in the morning we see the shrapnel and destruction in nearby streets."
Despite the tangible danger, the central synagogue and Chabad center in Kyiv never close their doors. "We decided on the very first day of the war: we are not abandoning the community. There are thousands of Jews here—elderly people who cannot evacuate, families with nowhere to go, and above all, people who need spiritual and material support. The synagogue has become a shelter in every sense of the word—both physical refuge from bombardment and a refuge for the soul."
Revolution Under Fire: "Jews Who Didn't Know What Kiddush Was Are Putting on Tefillin"
One of the most moving phenomena Rabbi Markovitch describes is the tremendous return of local Jews to their roots, born precisely from the crisis.
"This war has shattered all illusions of 'my own power and the might of my hand,'" the rabbi explains. "People who were completely distant from anything Jewish, who were busy with business and daily life, suddenly come to the synagogue with tears in their eyes. They ask to put on tefillin, to learn to read Hebrew, to receive a mezuzah for their doorpost. People are searching for meaning, searching for real protection that only Hashem can provide."
Rabbi Markovitch notes that the community's chesed center distributes tons of food supplies, essential medicines, and even provides generators and heating equipment each month in light of severe damage to the local electricity and energy infrastructure. "When you give a Jew a loaf of bread and medicine, and along the way offer him a kind word and a Shabbat candle—his soul opens up. Precisely in this great darkness, the Jewish light shines with indescribable intensity."
