Reaping the Harvest 

Chabad centers opened in every one of Paris’s 20 districts, and in Montparnasse, in Orteaux, in Place des Fetes, in Flandre, and in numerous suburbs of Paris, making it easier for young Jewish couples choosing to adopt an observant lifestyle. Kosher consumption grew, and kosher restaurants opened—today there are some 130 kosher eateries in Paris. 

I try to reconcile the thriving Jewish life I see in Paris with media reports of growing anti-Semitism. It is a problem, says Rabbi Azimov, as it is a problem in many other places. But he trusts that the authorities will do what they must to ensure a change in the climate. Here and there Jews are making their homes elsewhere, but they are not leaving in droves by any means. In fact, with one of largest Jewish populations in the world (approximately 500,000), there is enormous opportunity for Jewish life in France. 

Martine Uzan is principal of the 500-strong Beit Chaya Mouchka preschool. The product of Parisian public schools, Martine met the Azimovs as a young woman. Her husband was a university student at the time. Slowly but surely, their lives began to shift. The Azimovs’ integrated sense of purpose and identity made the Uzans want to learn from them, she explains. “The relationship they had with people was genuine. They were very focused, and every conversation with them resulted in some practical decision” towards a deeper commitment and identity.

It is clear that what Martine and the others found in both the rabbi and his wife was not charisma, but a quality of candid honesty. “Their clarity about what was right, what their purpose was, and the courage they had to do what they felt needed to be done,” explained Uzan, was rare, and made others want to rise to the opportunity to live more nobly.  

Perhaps it is the result of a Chasidic sensibility cultivated over generations that results in a profound self-knowledge. Both Rabbi and Mrs. Azimov trace their Chabad lineage several generations back. Daughter of the legendary Rabbi Bentzion and Esther Golda Shemtov who met and married in Siberia where they survived four years of punishing exile for their dedication to Jewish education, Bassie was raised in a deeply entrenched Chasidic home. Her parents were representatives of the sixth Rebbe to London, where she grew up.

As is true of most Chabad centers around the world, Azimov guides Shluchim in Paris to achieve financial independence. But the paternal sentiments in him cushion the process, making it easier for them to find their footing. “I don’t think it is right to put a young emissary to work in difficult circumstances. I don’t want the Shluchim to feel that they are lacking.” 

Today, Rabbi Azimov’s budget has grown to about $2 million a month. How does he sustain this consistently, especially in this economy, I ask?

“We are fortunate that we have many supporters.” Jews all over France, even those who are not formally affiliated, had their entry to Judaism through Chabad, and they continue to be grateful, especially for the impact that the Azimovs have had on the Jewish experience in France. Many choose to support his activities, and Rabbi Azimov appreciates the broad base of small donors. “It is better to have many people who want to participate in Jewish life, rather than a few major players,” he says.

Reflections

After suffering a stroke in 1998, he was forced to take a slower pace, at least physically. Yet he continues to maintain responsibility for his budget, and he continues to teach in school as the Rebbe instructed him to do half a century ago. No longer able to lead a class as he once did, he now works with students individually. I ask why he continues given the difficulties.

“I once asked the Rebbe if I may dedicate full time to my administrative activities, but he insisted that I continue to teach half a day in school. He said ‘there are reasons’ that I should be teaching every day. I don’t know what they are, I never asked.”

What, I want to know, is most important to Rabbi Azimov in his role as a teacher? “To understand where the individual comes from, what their personal, emotional and intellectual inclinations and abilities are, and how to teach them in a way that empowers them to then teach themselves.” 

Today, Rabbi Azimov has the benefit of perspective, of hindsight. He has seen the dots connect, the blessings fulfilled, the privilege of guidance that proved foresight and vision. 

“When we sent the Rebbe plans of the school building, he asked: ‘Does this plan include everything?’”

Azimov understood that to mean that enormous as the complex was, it was still not big enough. “So we revised the plans, and miraculously managed to get approval to add another story to the building.” The Rebbe’s remark made it possible for them to squeeze as much usage and capacity out of the building for years, before outgrowing it. Today, the school is looking for additional space for the September school year.

As I get ready to leave, Rabbi Azimov says, almost to himself, “Some people believe that the Rebbe’s blessings are a spiritual matter. I have seen rather that their fulfillment is revealed, physically, materially.” 

He recalls the time he sent the key to the first Chabad House which he opened in Paris, in 1972, to the Rebbe’s secretariat. When he next saw the Rebbe in a private audience, the Rebbe thanked him.  And then, Azimov recalls, “the Rebbe blessed me. He said to me ‘G-d should help that you can say that this space is too small for us.’ 

Photo credits: Israel Bardugo, Mendy Hechtman, Levik T., Mendel Benhamou, Meir Dahan