In the News
A JNS column commemorating what would have been the 100th birthday of Leon Uris, Jewish American novelist and author of “Exodus,” highlights Uris’ B’nai B’rith-sponsored visit to the Soviet Union in the fall of 1989.
Last August marked the centennial of the birth of author Leon Uris, yet it passed with little commemoration in the Jewish cultural sphere. This absence is understandable as world Jewry is likely facing its greatest challenges since the end of World War II or, at least, since 1967. Many of us felt despair before the turning point in Israel’s war with Hezbollah. Even now, we grieve for the hostages, and for family members and friends who served in Gaza or Southern Lebanon. Still, it is important to summon the emotional energy to honor someone who inspired countless people in the United States and played a pivotal role in the awakening of Soviet Jewry.
Uris, proudly remembered as an “American Marine, Jewish Writer,” as is inscribed on his gravestone, was born in Baltimore on Aug. 3, 1924. His father was an immigrant from Poland via British Mandatory Palestine who had Americanized the family name from Yerushalmi to Uris. A high school dropout, Uris enlisted in the U.S. Marine Corps at age 17 during World War II. He channeled his passion for storytelling into novels that resonated worldwide, even as literary critics often dismissed them. His numerous works, including Battle Cry (1953), Exodus (1958), Mila 18 (1961), QB VII (1970) and Trinity (1976), became enduring symbols of resilience and the indomitable fighting spirit of his characters.
I had the privilege of meeting Leon Uris in person in the fall of 1989 during his B’nai B’rith-sponsored visit to the Soviet Union. However, my first “meeting” with him occurred long before that October night in Leningrad—through his book, or rather the book, Exodus.
Published in 1958, Exodus was a monumental work that intensely impacted Soviet Jewry, one that can only be fully understood in historical terms. For nearly 50 years, Jews behind the Iron Curtain were systematically stripped of every foundational tenet of basic Jewish life. They were denied religious education and observance, and had no access to cultural outlets like independent Jewish newspapers and magazines, and other critical elements necessary to sustain a vibrant and healthy community known as Am Yisroel.