Whatever Happened to Mikhail Kalik?

The whereabouts of a leading Soviet Jewish movie producer, Mikhail Kalik, who applied for an exit permit to Israel in December, 1970, remains a mystery to foreign and local friends who have tried unsuccessfully to contact him in the past month. According to a close friend of Kalik’s, now in the United States who asked not to be identified, Kalik’s home in Moscow was ransacked on February 17 by Soviet police. They confiscated his belongings and films, informing him that a criminal case was pending against him for having produced an adaptation of Arthur Miller’s “The Price,” which was never officially released by Soviet authorities on the screen or television. Soon after the search, Kalik’s friend revealed it became impossible to reach Kalik at his home either by phone or in person. A foreign correspondent who unsuccessfully attempted to enter his apartment returned to the street to find all four tires of his car slashed. Kalik’s friend has made repeated efforts to reach him by phone, and reports that many of his calls have been interrupted by what he termed the sabotage efforts of the Soviet police. He also disclosed that the Moscow operator has, on several occasions, informed him in noncommital tones. “Sorry. Apartment does not answer.” This, he asserts, is impossible, since Kalik has a wife and two small children. “They should be at home some of the times when I make my calls, he maintains. But in recent months his calls have gone unanswered.

Who is this Mikhail Kalik, a unique individual in his own right yet who shares the collective fate of so many Soviet Jews? Like so many Soviet Jews, Kalik has known the harsh life of the Siberian labor camps in which he spent four long, unbearable years. He was born 40 years ago in Moscow and studied in the State Institute of Cinematography. In 1952, he was arrested for his “Jewish and pro-Israel sentiments,” and sentenced to 10 years of hard labor by a special committee of the MGB-Ministry of State Security. Stalin’s death mercifully cut short his stay; he was released after four years of having served his sentence and was “rehabilitated.” He was permitted to return to his interrupted program of studies at the Cinematography Institute and graduated with honors in 1959. Since his graduation, he has produced several successful films, many of them recipients of high awards. Among his more renowned films are “Man Follows the Sun”; “The Route” and “To Love.” He overcame the “disadvantage” of being a Jew and won great esteem among his colleagues and the general Soviet public. He was wealthy and well-liked; he should have been happy. But he was not. In a letter to his friend in the United States, he wrote:

“I have achieved material success and popularity. My films have been shown in many countries of the world, and my name is in many reference books. Seemingly, what else could I desire? But as time goes by, I feel more and more dissatisfied. As time goes by, it becomes more difficult to remain true to myself, more difficult not to prostitute myself.” Continuing, Kalik stated: “As time goes by, more and more I feel the need to free my children from their feelings of inferiority, and the more time goes by, the more I desire to think not only about myself but also about people. And so, on December 11, we finally submitted the documents. A long, trying and grave period then began. We need patience and stamina. After all, anything might happen. But I hope for the best. What will happen to all will happen to us. We hope to meet you soon in the Promised Land, (Shalom, Lehitraot Be Arzeinu) I have studied Hebrew for a long time.” The letter was the last Kalik’s friend in the United States received from him. Friends and colleagues had tried to dissuade Kalik from the “reckless” action of applying for a permit to Israel. He listened politely to their arguments and pleas, but insisted on his right to emigrate. Kalik has not yet received his exit permit and ostensibly is waiting. But the question arises: Waiting where? In his apartment? In a prison cell? In a labor camp? Nobody knows. The whereabouts of Kalik remain a mystery. One informed Jewish source said that Kalik had been arrested two months ago and released shortly thereafter. According to another report; he and another-Jewish film director, Yesin Sevela, have been expelled from the Soviet Union’s cinema workers’ association. Kalik’s story is only one in the continuing series of nightmarish tales in the continuing struggle of Soviet Jews.