Myth about the Khazar kingdom converting to Judaism is symbol of pride in this city
Astrakhan, near Kazakhstan, is the place where, according to the story, a nomadic king and his subjects became Jewish 1,000 years ago
Teenage members of the Jewish community of Astrakhan, at an event in the Sphard Synagogue. Courtesy of the Astrakhan Jewish community
You may have heard of the Khazar myth, the hypothesis that Ashkenazi Jews descended from nomadic converts to Judaism who lived between the Caucasus Mountains and the Caspian Sea. This theory has long been abandoned by historians and geneticists, but it remains popular with certain anti-Zionist groups as an alleged proof of Jews not being indigenous to the Land of Israel. According to modern science, Ashkenazi Jews have nothing to do with the Khazars — but this doesn’t mean the Khazars didn’t exist.
The Khazar state, often called Khaganate because of the title of its leaders, was a semi-nomadic empire in the Eurasian steppe that existed between the 7th and 11th centuries. Its population spoke a now-extinct language that belonged to the Turkic family, which also includes modern languages like Turkish and Kazakh. According to the medieval Jewish historians Judah Halevi and Abraham ibn Daud, the khaganate’s ruling elite converted to Judaism in the 700s.
A set of historical sources known as the Khazar Correspondence includes a letter in Hebrew sent to a rabbi in Cordoba, Spain, by the Khazar ruler Joseph. In his letter, Joseph told the story of how his people had embraced Judaism. In the 700s, he wrote, a Khazar king named Bulan was approached by Byzantine and Arab ambassadors asking him to convert to their respective religions, Christianity and Islam. King Bulan then sent for a “learned Israelite” so that he could choose between all three of the Abrahamic faiths.
Once a Jewish sage arrived, Bulan asked the three foreigners to debate with each other on which religion was the superior one. After listening to their lengthy theological discussion, he asked the Arab ambassador which religion he thought was better: Christianity or Judaism? The Arab ambassador chose Judaism. Bulan then asked the Byzantine ambassador which religion was better, Islam or Judaism? He also chose Judaism. That’s when Bulan realized what the “best” of the three faiths was. According to King Joseph’s letter, one of Bulan’s descendants, Obadiah, built synagogues and yeshivot in the Khazar Khaganate and invited Jewish scholars from Baghdad and Constantinople to come live and teach there.
Some authors question the Khazar conversion story
The authenticity of the Khazar Correspondence has been questioned by several historians, including the Israeli demographer Shaul Stampfer. However, most scholars, such as the British orientalist Douglas Dunlop and the American historian Peter Golden, consider the letters genuine.
On the other hand, deeming the Correspondence “authentic” means only that it was likely written by an actual Khazar ruler over 1,000 years ago. It doesn’t guarantee that what he wrote was actually true. According to Islamic studies professor Devin DeWeese, the story told by King Joseph should be regarded as an epic narrative rather than a historical description. The conversion story may be a legend, but a number of other documents confirm there was indeed a Jewish presence in the Khaganate in one form or another.
This unique story of a long-gone nomadic Jewish empire is something people take pride in to this day in my hometown of Astrakhan in southern Russia near the border with Kazakhstan. Astrakhan was once the location of the Khazar capital Atil, where King Joseph wrote those letters.
A Russian city that doesn’t feel like Russia
When I tell people I grew up in Russia, many think of freezing-cold winters, grim Soviet-era apartments and thick forests with bears in them. There’s some truth to the stereotype. Russia does have regions that look like this; it’s just that Astrakhan isn’t one of them.
Located at the crossroads of Central Asia and the Caucasus, Astrakhan features a hot, swampy river delta surrounded by a desert. You’re much more likely to meet a camel than a bear there. Snow in the winter is so rare that locals describe it as a “rare weather phenomenon.” Each summer, temperatures soar above 100 degrees F.
Between the Persian-style mansions in Astrakhan City and numerous Kazakh mosques in the region’s rural areas, it’s easy to forget you’re in Russia at all. Astrakhan’s Oriental atmosphere isn’t just history — it remains one of Russia’s most ethnically diverse areas. Although the Khazars disappeared in the Middle Ages, assimilating into a variety of neighboring peoples after the fall of their empire, there’s a place for the Jews in the diversity of modern-day Astrakhan.
The city’s Jewish community reemerged in the 18th century, when the Russian government allowed Jews to settle in Astrakhan. A merchant from Vitebsk named Leib (Leiba, in Russian) Davydov was the first one to take this opportunity. Just like Davydov, most early Jewish settlers were Ashkenazim from Lithuania, but the 1850s saw an influx of immigrants from the Caucasus. They were Mountain Jews who spoke a Persian dialect and followed Sephardic customs. As an important trade and transit point, Astrakhan eventually attracted many more Jewish merchants from Central Asia, Georgia and Crimea.
The Jewish community in today’s Astrakhan numbers about 700 people and remains internally diverse. Interestingly, a historic synagogue revived by a Chabad rabbi in the 1990s bears the name Sphard because it used to belong to the Sephardi Mountain Jewish community before the Bolsheviks shut it down.
Pre-Soviet Astrakhan had four distinct synagogues, but only one survives today. As a result, Jews from Eastern European, North Caucasian and Asian backgrounds all daven together. Astrakhan’s only remaining synagogue also serves as a community center equally popular with secular Jews who go on Birthright trips and attend “edutainment” seminars and summer camps.
People are leaving Astrakhan
In the Soviet era, Astrakhan was home to many well-known Jews, such as the award-winning actor Lev Sverdlin and the revolutionary Mikhail Trilisser. Today, the most renowned Jews from Astrakhan tend to be the ones who left their hometown early in life. One of them, lawyer and politician Sergey Lagodinsky, moved from Astrakhan to Germany as a teen. He is now a member of the European Parliament representing the Green Party.
Jews leaving Astrakhan and finding their success elsewhere in the world is part of a bigger problem, though. Despite its rich natural resources and unique cultural heritage, Astrakhan’s local government consistently ranks as one of the most mismanaged and corrupt in Russia. I’ve heard many young people say that they’ve decided to leave the city due to its low wages, lack of reliable public transportation, dangerously run-down buildings in the historic quarters and a growing stray dog problem.
Even with the Jewish population of Astrakhan shrinking, many non-Jewish residents of the unique Russian city are curious about its long Jewish history, including the debated but romantic Khazar scenario. To many Astrakhan dwellers of all ethnicities and faiths, the story of a medieval Jewish state is a sign that tolerance, diversity and peaceful coexistence characterized Astrakhan for more than a millennium. It also explains why its residents today commonly refer to the Khazar story in its local literature and consider it a point of pride.
A message from our CEO & publisher Rachel Fishman Feddersen
I hope you appreciated this article. Before you move on, I wanted to ask you to support the Forward’s award-winning journalism during our High Holiday Monthly Donor Drive.
If you’ve turned to the Forward in the past 12 months to better understand the world around you, we hope you will support us with a gift now. Your support has a direct impact, giving us the resources we need to report from Israel and around the U.S., across college campuses, and wherever there is news of importance to American Jews.
Make a monthly or one-time gift and support Jewish journalism throughout 5785. The first six months of your monthly gift will be matched for twice the investment in independent Jewish journalism.
— Rukhl Schaechter, Yiddish Editor
