Over the past four years, there has been a dramatic increase in the number of people seeking connections with the local Jewish communities; many Jews are affiliating for the first time in their lives. “People who have never entered a synagogue come to us,” says Rebbetzin Miriam Moskovitz, who has led the Kharkov Jewish community along with her husband Rabbi Moshe Moskovitz for more than 30 years. Most lack even the most basic information, because Judaism and all religions were illegal from 1922 to 1991, when Ukraine was part of the Soviet Union. In war-torn areas, gyms, restaurants, community centers and clubs are closed. In those areas, in particular, “[people] come seeking connection,” says Rebbetzin Moskovitz. “Suddenly, they realize that no one else cares about them except the Jewish community,” notes Rabbi Daniel Gordon of JRNU.
Many newcomers to the communities are internal refugees who have abandoned conflict zones for safer parts of Ukraine. They have moved from Eastern Ukraine to central or western regions. “Some communities have even tripled in size because of this internal migration,” says JRNU’s Judi Garrett. The Jewish community in Lviv, located on the Polish border, has doubled in size, increasing from 1,000 to 2,000 members since the war began. “Some come from here, from Kherson, others from Kyiv, Odesa, Zaporizhzhia, or Dnipro. Many stay in Lviv, while others go on to Hungary, England, Israel or the US,” explained Rebbetzin Sarah Bald who together with her husband Rabbi Shlomo Bald has led the local community for 33 years.
Some people have lost their homes. “In East Ukraine, Donetsk and Mariupol, the Jewish communities no longer exist,” says Rabbi Gordon. Rebbetzin Moskovitz estimates that Kharkiv’s Jewish community of 10,000 is now roughly half its prewar size. Internal migration isn’t just a Jewish phenomenon; as many as 3.7 million Ukrainians have relocated within the country.
Internally displaced Jews and longtime residents rely on local Jewish communities for help of all kinds. In addition to basic food every month, through the work of JRNU, people receive other essential items including eyeglasses and reflector bands for when they go out at night. “Because of martial law, which imposes curfews and frequent power cuts, it’s pitch-black outside at night. The reflector bands help pedestrians remain visible to drivers,” Rebbetzin Moskovitz explains. During the winter months, community centers and synagogues provided much needed shelter. Many of the facilities have been damaged in airstrikes and are frequently without power, but the industrial generators, JRNU purchased and installed in 2023, allow them to continue to function.
“Everyday life means going in and out of bomb shelters,” said Judi Garrett. “Kids may spend the entire day in basement classrooms we retrofitted in the early days of the war,” she says. Even so, the psychological toll is severe. “There is constant fear. Where is my family? Where did they go when the sirens went off? How will I get to a safe space?” says Garrett.
When missiles or drones hit the city, people run to safety in underground parking lots, subway stations, basements and stairwells. Unlike Israel, purpose-built shelters and safe rooms in apartments or buildings do not exist in Ukraine. It’s hard. “In the freezing cold and boiling summer, thousands squeeze into one underground car park,” says Rebbetzin Bald. But for as many as half of all Ukrainians, there is no safe place to go. “Some people spend entire nights walking the streets, figuring they are safer outdoors than in a building that could collapse on them,” says Rebbetzin Bald. In addition to causing injury and death, the drones and missiles have wrecked apartment buildings, energy infrastructure, and even aid distribution sites. JRNU has helped thousands of Ukrainian Jews to either repair their damaged homes or find other places to live.
With prices shooting up and salaries remaining at low prewar levels, another major problem is food insecurity. “At the moment, the biggest challenge is poverty,” says Rabbi Gordon. “People are finding it difficult to support themselves, and they are not seeing an end to this,” he says.
The war has negatively impacted family life. “In many homes the father is gone,” says Garrett. That leaves mothers alone to raise the children, work, and, in many cases, care for elderly parents or in-laws.
We hope and pray for an end to the crisis sooner rather than later. In the meantime, with your support, we continue to save lives and restore hope.
Excerpted from an article by Carol Ungar | Jewish Action | Spring 2026
