This time, it would not be Mordechai and Esther who saved Persian Jewry, but rather their own brethren in Europe

Title: Persia’s Plight, Lithuania’s Light

Location: Kobryn

Document; The Jewish Chronicle

Time: January 1872

IN 1871, a devastating famine swept through Persia, leaving hundreds of thousands starving — including its 30,000 Jews. Entire communities collapsed, families sold their last possessions for scraps of food, yet help never came. The Persian government funneled its limited aid exclusively to Muslim citizens, abandoning the Jewish population. Scattered across the cities of Isfahan, Tehran, Kashan, Shiraz, Hamadan, Tabriz, and Bushehr, Persian Jews were already living on the margins — confined to menial trades, subjected to daily discrimination, and now, left to starve in a land that refused to claim them.

Recognizing the unfolding catastrophe, the Jewish Chronicle in London first sounded the alarm in the summer of 1871, followed by regular reports as conditions worsened. The popular newspaper HaMagid, (established in 1856 as the first-ever Hebrew weekly) carried the appeal even further, ensuring that the cries of Persian Jewry reached Jewish communities throughout Eastern Europe.

The call for aid spread swiftly, igniting an extraordinary response in the Pale of Settlement, particularly in Lithuania. Though they themselves faced economic hardship and food shortages, Lithuanian Jews did not hesitate. They understood the agony of hunger all too well.

In shuls across the land, appeals were made — especially on Purim, when maggidim and rabbanim passionately implored their congregations. This time, it would not be Mordechai and Esther who saved Persian Jewry, but rather their own brethren in Europe. The campaign was meticulously organized, with emissaries dispatched to towns large and small from Moscow to Mezhibuzh and Kovno to Krynik.

Even those with barely a few kopeks to their name contributed. The names of donors were recorded in HaMagid, creating a rare historical record of grassroots Jewish solidarity. Nearly 5,500 names appear in these lists, in a strong testament to Jewish unity and responsibility. The Jews of Persia were not forgotten.

The appeal went beyond communal leaders to the very heart of the Lithuanian Torah world, where it found an unlikely champion: a young, newlywed yeshivah scholar living in the town of Kobryn.

Rav Shlomo Zalman Sender Kahana-Shapiro, a rising star among the students of Rav Yosef Dov Soloveitchik, the Beis HaLevi, was already known for his profound Torah brilliance and diligence. The great-grandson of Rav Chaim Volozhiner, he carried the weight of an illustrious lineage, yet it was his personal qualities that endeared him to the people of Kobryn. He was seen learning day and night, sometimes with another future Torah luminary, Rav Yaakov Dovid Wilowski — the Ridbaz.

But it was not just his sharp mind that drew the town’s admiration. Rav Zalman Sender possessed a rare musical gift, and his heartfelt tefillos on the Yamim Noraim became legendary. His compositions and nusach for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur would later become mainstays in Lithuanian yeshivos, and it was said that on Leil HaSeder, people would gather outside his window just to hear him sing.

When word of the plight of Persian Jewry reached Kobryn, Rav Zalman Sender could not sit idly by. He understood that this was not just another charitable appeal — this was pikuach nefesh, the difference between life and death for an entire community of forgotten Jews. Without hesitation, he volunteered to spearhead relief efforts in Kobryn, rallying support and raising significant funds. Still living on kest at his in-laws’ home, Rav Zalman Sender cemented his status as a future leader with a true sense of communal responsibility.

In 1885, Rav Zalman Sender was appointed rav of Maltsh, and from there, his influence only grew. When Yeshivah Knesses Beis Yitzchak opened in Slabodka in 1898, he was invited to serve as rosh yeshivah. His devoted kehillah, fearing they would lose him, offered to establish a yeshivah of his own in Maltsh. He accepted, founding Anaf Etz Chaim — a tribute to his alma mater in Volozhin.

His yeshivah became a beacon of Torah, drawing students who would one day illuminate the Jewish world. In 1903, he assumed the rabbinate of Krynik, again establishing a yeshivah. That same year, a young orphan named Aharon Kotler — destined to become a towering figure in the Torah world — was sent to learn under his guidance. Meanwhile, his successor in Maltsh, Rav Shimon Shkop, reopened Anaf Etz Chaim and carried on its legacy.

The upheavals of World War I forced Rav Zalman Sender to flee east, where he struggled to reestablish his yeshivah in the Russian interior. But as war gave way to revolution, the Bolsheviks tightened their grip, and in 1921, he made a fateful decision — one that had been his lifelong dream. He would leave behind the crumbling world of Eastern Europe and set out for Eretz Yisrael.

Settling in Yerushalayim, he spent his final years in the holy city, a quiet figure in a land that had once been home to the greatest of sages. In 1923, he passed away and was laid to rest on Har Hazeisim, the sacred ground where generations of Torah luminaries had been buried before him.

Yet his legacy did not die with him — it lived on in the students he had shaped, young men who would go on to lead the Torah world through the upheavals of the 20th century. Rav Aharon Kotler, who built the great yeshivah empire of postwar America. Rav Yaakov Kamenetsky, the wise and measured leader who became a guide for generations. Rav Yechezkel Sarna, Rav Avraham Yafen, Rav Isser Yehuda Unterman, Rav Yehuda Levenberg — each carried his imprint, each a link in the unbroken chain of Lithuanian Torah.

And then there was his own son, Rav Avraham Dovber Kahana-Shapiro — the Devar Avraham, the last rav of Kovno, who stood as a towering figure in a world soon to be shattered.

Rav Zalman Sender had once rallied Lithuanian Jewry to save their brethren in Persia. In the years to come, it was no surprise that it was his disciples who took up that same mission of hatzalah, leading a broken nation through its darkest hour while still ensuring that the light of Torah would never be extinguished.

Persian Persecution Reforms

The devastation of 1871–72 left Persian Jewry reeling, but in its wake, a shift began. Their cries had sparked an international outcry that would forge new lines of advocacy and intervention. In 1873, as the Persian monarch, Shah Naser al-Din Shah Qajar, traveled to Europe, Jewish leaders there seized the moment. They pressed the Shah to grant his Jewish subjects greater protection, their appeals carrying the weight of a world that had, for the first time, mobilized to aid Persian Jews.

Under immense pressure, the Shah made a bold proclamation: All religions in Persia would enjoy equal treatment. European observers hailed it as a turning point, a silver lining to the famine’s horrors. In reality, deep-seated biases did not vanish overnight, but the decree ushered in an era of tentative reform.

Youthful Teasing

As a youth in Slutzk, Rav Zalman Sender was paired to study with Chaim Soloveitchik, the son of his rebbi, the Beis HaLevi. Rav Chaim would soon light up the world as a young rosh yeshivah in Volozhin. The story is told that the Beis HaLevi asked the two youngsters which was a bigger lamdan.

“I can’t answer,” Rav Zalman Sender replied. “If I say I’m bigger, I’ll be a baal gaavah, and if I say Rav Chaim is bigger, I’ll be a liar.”

Rav Chaim then riposted with glee, “I say that Zalman Sender is both!”

The 29th of Shevat will mark the 102nd yahrtzeit of Rav Shlomo Zalman Sender Kahana-Shapiro.

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1050)