In this piece, the author of the Seridei Eish, HaRav Yechiel Yaakov Weinberg zt"l, describes an incident that took place in the early days of Communism in Russia, in the beis medrash of the Slobodka Yeshiva. It was first published in Haneeman, Teves 5688 (1928), and the incident took place somewhat earlier.
Fire consumed Russia during those years. The Bundists would storm into shuls and remove the rav from the bimah. A young Bundist would take his place and begin spouting blasphemy and heresy, while praising the Communist creed and the Russian revolution. These crash visits also took place in the afternoons in the yeshiva, when the yeshiva was in full attendance: armed Bundists burst into the yeshiva but the students tried to ignore them with a smile when suddenly, a shot echoed, electrifying and silencing them. Only the voice of the unidentified resident masmid persevered, drowning out the voice of the Bundist at the lectern. Said nameless masmid had in fact not been accepted into the yeshiva proper but he would nonetheless come, sit in a corner and study day and night. When the Mashgiach was questioned about him, he would reply, "He is a Yid who is enamored with the Torah." And his was the voice which drowned out that of the Bundist, energizing all the yeshiva students who began denouncing the Bundist. A round of shots rang out. The students panicked and fled but the door had been shut beforehand. They were commanded to return to their seats and listen to the speaker's propaganda. This scene was described by Rav Weinberg with his golden pen:
With mighty power, he rallied and rose up, like a tree severed from his roots, separated from the spot he had chosen for himself from the first moment he arrived in the yeshiva. A colossal change swept over the yeshiva. His chant, which was constantly heard without cease, was suddenly stilled. He strode forward with measured steps, brooking no hands to stop him, until he reached the lectern. The atmosphere was electrified, awaiting the unexpected. As he proceeded, everyone in his way drew back, awed and frightened from the mysterious power he radiated. The usual detached look in his deep eyes now expressed unfathomable anger, spewing sparks of contained fire all around him. Even the Bundists made way for him.
The frightened Bundist youth descended from the platform, succeeded by the masmid. A thick silence settled upon the hall; all eyes were riveted upon him. Slowly, deliberately, he laid his gemara on the lectern, opened it and began reciting several lines before closing it. He stood there, stock still, for several moments. It was obvious that he was concentrating deeply, his thoughts even roaming uncharted places. Tears began streaming down his cheeks and into his beard, testifying to a deep inner turmoil. He remained there motionless. Everyone in the room trembled.
And then he spoke his words: "These sinners," and his thin finger pointed to the Bundists. "who caused a masmid to cease his study, and interrupted others from their learning as well — may Hashem forgive them, for their eyes have been blinded by an alien fire. But as for us, for whom the Torah is our acquisition and the light of our eyes, our blemished spirit cannot forgive or pardon them! Ever!
"The yeshiva has been forced to cease its study for two hours. Our fathers and ancestors stood up against outside mighty and great enemies for the sake of Torah and its honor. Are we then too helpless to stand up before our internal anti-Semites?
"Had you not caused us to stop learning, we wouldn't have come to this point. Without Torah in your mouths, you are irrelevant. Return, resume your study as before and no one will raise a hand against you."
His voice rose to a crescendo and then dwindled to a sigh. This event served as a source for much discussion in the Bundist circles, and when there next arose a suggestion to storm the yeshiva hall, the memory of the masmid's voice re-echoed frighteningly. And all words were superfluous.
