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\markboth{\small \em \quad B.~Shapiro  \hfill}{\hfill
\small\em Underground ``Jewish University''\quad }

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\title{UNDERGROUND ``JEWISH UNIVERSITY''}
%IN THOSE TIMES SECLUDED, AND  NOW ALMOST MYTHICAL ... (from 
%V.~Vysotsky's song)}
\author{B. SHAPIRO}

\address{Department of Mathematics, Stockholm University,\\
S-106 91 Stockholm, Sweden}
%\address{Matematiska Institutionen,
% Stockholms Universitet,\\ S-106 91 Stockholm, Sweeden}

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\begin{flushright}
{\it
In those times secluded, and now almost mythical \ldots }
\\[1mm]
{\small -- from V.~Vysotsky's song}
\end{flushright}

\vspace*{2mm}

What a strange thing, memory.  Its selectivity and countless gaps are
terribly annoying.  The events in a twenty-year span of my life,
the functioning of a so-called ``Jewish People's University", graduate
school at Mechmat,\footnote{\,[Department of Mechanics and
Mathematics of the Moscow Lomonosov State University.]}
 failing the defense of my thesis, defending my thesis in
Stockholm, a mass exodus from Moscow of everyone and everybody,
two immigrations, the fall of the Soviet Union, a long line of professional
and personal successes and no fewer the number of defeats,
overshadow the period when all my mathematical activities began (and
when  they could just as easily never have begun).

I think I should say a few words about myself.  A typical Soviet
Jew's story of the mid 1970's and the early 1980's: an interest in
mathematics; success at city competitions (though it went no further
than that); out of stupidity I did not go to a mathematics school; at 
Mechmat  failed even on the first entrance exam; applied mathematics
at MIIT (Moscow Institute for Railway Engineering) with all its
gentlemanly hodge-podge of silliness, goodness and idiocy; an infinite
number of failed attempts to begin to study mathematics with
excursions to Mechmat at Moscow State, where those like me were not
particularly welcomed (and what to do with their own talented Jews
they did not know); the long and arduous task of finding a thesis
advisor; the organization of a private seminar-with-ourselves,
which fell apart  within a year.

It seemed that the situation was hopeless, and  hundreds and hundreds of 
able Jewish
kids --- students at MIIT, students at the Gubkin   Oil and Gas Institute (Kerosene
Stove, as we called it), students of the Pedagogical Institute   and of many other
applied math departments --- threw mathematics out the window and started
programming and, as was made clear following the immigration, they had by far
not made the stupidest choice.  The assignment to the OKR PKTB ASUZhT MPS
USSR (let Sovietologists decipher that one) that I got after graduating from
MIIT, did not help the situation. There was a feeling that my efforts were leading
nowhere and,  in any matter, it all seemed futile.
Suddenly, in the fall of 1980, my brother Misha, then a first year
student at the notorious MIIT, informed me that D.B.~Fuchs,
A.B.~Zelevinsky, A.M.~Vinogradov and  A.B.~Sosinsky were going to
give lectures on mathematics to all who were willing (which meant,
those who had been failed at Mechmat).  There were one hundred of these willing
who attended Fuchs' lectures, for example.  Naturally, the majority
of these (though, not everyone) were invalids by way of the ``fifth
point''.\footnote{\,[The notorious ``fifth
point'' was the entry in the internal passports of Soviet citizens
where their ethnic origin (nationality) was stated. It served a 
 basis for discrimination of ethnic Jews,  Germans and other undesirable
minorities.]} Shortly, around Moscow rumors began to spread about an
underground ``Jewish University".  It was there that I became acquainted with Bella
Abramovna Muchnik (Subbotovskaya), and everything started to move. Bella
Abramovna carried the weight of all the tedious and, later it was made clear, not
entirely safe organizational work, costing her in the end her life; she also
bought us trayfuls of pastries with poppy seeds.  It all seemed free.  Was it
really? out of her own pocket?  

Because I was older than most by about six
years, I grouped with my friend Seryozha Duzhin, who led practical studies on
linear algebra after Vinogradov.  I think it only honest to say that
in spite of the excellent lecturers, the majority of students realized
that they would not make it and left.  Only the most determined and
motivated stayed, and many eventually became professional physicists,
mathematicians (some even businessmen and bankers).  The tempo was too
fast for beginners; class was once a week, which was not often enough,
and besides that, everyone was already studying in there own schools,
in Kerosene Stoves.  
As for me, besides the two
years worth of missing notes, I was left with a ringing in my ears and a
desire to study further.  The summits and beauty of the genuine  science seemed very
interesting on the backdrop of a dull and hopeless life of a regular Soviet R\&D
department.  The
real mathematics studies only began three years later at V.~Arnold's
seminar, when I was already over twenty-five years old.

Soon after the beginning of the lectures on mathematics, Bella
Abramovna announced that for all who desire to come, there would be a
series of lectures by a famous physicist on quantum mechanics and field theory.
Since Seryozha Duzhin and his family were living in Subbotovskaya's apartment
and planned on attending the lecture, and because I was already ``old''
and needed to catch up as soon as possible, I also decided to attend
those physics lectures.

The very next Thursday, I think,  in the tiny two-room apartment of Bella
Abramovna on Nametkina Street, eight or nine people met, mainly
second-year students and two slow-developers, Duzhin and I.  There
appeared a tall, sinewy gray-haired man, with a slight lisp. 
%, a big nose and a chin,
% reminding me at first glance a caricature from the
% magazine {\em Crocodile}, from the series ``We Will Defeat Zionism".  
The man was
Misha\,\footnote{\,[In Russian, one would say Mikhail and then the
patronymic, Samuilovich. Here is emphasized an informality.]}  Marinov, 
the name by which 
he introduced himself.  By his
appearance, Misha was close to forty-five years old; he had already
been a {\em refusnik}\,\footnote{
\,[In Russian, {\em otkazniks},
 a large group of people who were 
practically outlawed in the USSR in the 1970's 
and 80's and were forced to exist in extreme conditions.  
The only ``crime" committed by {\em otkazniks}/{\em refusniks}
was that they  had applied for and were denied exit visas to Israel.  And yet, they 
were treated essentially as criminals: fired from jobs and blacklisted, 
 intimidated by the KGB, at the verge of arrest.]  } 
for some time, and had seen a great deal.  He had,
until he applied for his exit visas, worked in ITEP (Institute of
Theoretical and Experimental Physics) and was personally acquainted
with famous people.  (Work in a real research institute seemed to me at that
time, and probably was, an unattainable dream.) For me, he
represented that heroic epoch when Jews were still accepted into
the realm of physics and mathematics, where they uncovered so
much.  My impression was reinforced by occasional Misha's stories of
L.D.~Landau, whose biography the younger generation was also eagerly reading.
He spoke of his cooperation with F.A.~Berezin, and it was then that
I first heard of ``supermanifold'' (till this day I still don't quite
know what it is). 

On the other hand, once (during a tea
break), he told us about
a team of construction workers, {\em shabash\-niks-refusniks}, to which he belonged,
consisting entirely of Ph.D. holders and professors.\footnote{
\,[{\em Refusniks}  were   denied access to
skilled
labor; for living many had  to join  construction workers groups,  so called 
{\em shabashki},
which  functioned virtually  in an ``underground" regime.]
}   Those were dark times, and
it was uncertain when and to where they would let him go.  It was for
this reason that Misha was very careful not to compromise the entire
system of the ``Jewish University'' and other teachers, more or less
well off and at that time far from any desire to immigrate.  As they
say, ``some are no longer with us, and the others are far away \ldots''. 

 Misha's lectures were not simple.  An understanding
of mechanics, functional analysis, differential equations,
differential geometry and the like was necessary.  Despite this, I
remember the ease and clarity with which he explained the fundamental
ideas behind the difficult make-up of quantum mechanics.  He pointed
out the similarities and complexities of classical mechanics such that
even I had the impression that I understood everything.  I remember
the interesting discussions on harmonic and unharmonic oscillators
  and the difficulties in the quantization of the latter.
He even managed to discuss with the second-year students
``supermathematics'' on the basis of Grassmann algebra.  We did not
have any tests or quizzes, and it was too bad that we didn't.  

In
the form of lyrical asides, Misha often skipped around, talking about
subjects that interested him, such as strings and superstrings.  It
was obvious that he wanted very much to envelop himself in his
favorite work without any more idiotic interruptions.  He tried with all 
his strength to
bring us to the level of current research, though this was not very
realistic, meeting once a week with second-year students.  In this
way two intensive years went by, until in the spring of 1982 we were
all stunned by the death of Bella Abramovna.  Everyone went around
very crushed, and the ``Jewish University'' soon fell apart.

The last time I met with Misha was not long before his immigration to
Israel at his home.  He gave me several textbooks on physics, and we
for a long time discussed matters of life.  He was wearing a yarmulke, and
in him was a controlled happiness that he would soon be free.  Among
my acquaintances from MIIT, many were already studying Hebrew, and a
desire to immigrate had taken hold.  The question, ``to leave or not
to leave'', was talked about incessantly in our circle (at that time
theoretically).  I recall on one wall there was a small poster with
the Hebrew alphabet and on bookshelves were volumes of Brokhaus and
Efron,\footnote{\,[The first complete Russian Encyclopedia published in the
beginning of the 20-th century before the {\em bolshevik} revolution.]} seemingly
inherited.  For some reason we talked about the physicist Feynman and then jumped to the
Second World War.  Misha knew history in general and, the history of the
 Soviet Reich  in particular, better than
the teachers of Marxism and Leninism.  Another one of his fort\'es was the history of
Judaism and of the Jewish people. It seems at that time he was criticizing Martin Buber.
This evening Misha revealed to me an unexpected human side.  I remember the
pleasant surprise, when I found out Misha had a young and beautiful
wife and two wonderful daughters.  The younger tried and tried to
climb into a cardboard box, on the bottom of which were spread some
editions of Mandelshtam's poetry, with some editions of Akhmatova. As a whole
temperament in this family was not lacking.  Still, it was time to say
our farewells \ldots \,. 

I remember the unpleasant and probably unfounded
chill running down my spine as I was walking back to the
subway. Were there not Aesop's agents\,\footnote{\,[A hint to the KGB
which was known to keep {\em refusniks} under permanent surveillance.]
} behind me?  We
never saw each other again, although, as it turned out, he did visit the ``hero-city"
Stockholm and even visited his good friend and ``supermathematician''  
D.~Leites, at
our esteemed Math Department.  Even  during my many, but short,
visits to Haifa I was not able to cross paths with him.  It was not
meant to be, and what a pity \ldots\,.

\begin{flushright}
Stockholm, 5 October 2001
\end{flushright}

\vspace{0.5cm}
\noindent
{\em Translated from Russian and commented by Eric Barrett 
and Anya Shifman}



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