Ukraine’s Restitution as Tikkun Olam: The Moral Path to National Unity
Restitution is not only a legal mechanism — it is a sacred act of moral healing. Inspired by Israel’s example, Ukraine now has the opportunity to transform justice into light, and law into faith.
The Talmud teaches that the world stands on three pillars — on justice, on truth, and on peace (Pirkei Avot 1:18). When even one of these pillars falls, the entire structure of humanity begins to tremble. Restitution is that rare moment when law touches the soul — when justice becomes a prayer, and when legal restoration turns into tikkun olam, the repair of the world.
Kabbalah teaches that when injustice enters the world, the light of the Shekhinah — the Divine Presence — withdraws. But when a person or a nation returns what was taken — a home, a field, or a name — the light returns. This act is not merely legal; it is mystical. It is the healing of creation itself. As the Prophet Ezekiel said: “If the wicked man restores what he took by robbery and walks in the laws of life — he shall surely live; he shall not die” (Ezek. 33:15). To return what was taken is to restore life. To restore truth is to let light return to the world.
Israel is the world’s moral and legal leader in the field of restitution. The Israeli experience became the foundation of my own research at the National University “Odesa Law Academy.” After World War II, Israel was the first to develop a comprehensive legal and ethical framework for returning confiscated property and compensating the victims of the Holocaust. This example showed that law can be more than an instrument — it can be a form of repentance, and that justice can serve diplomacy rather than conflict.
Thanks to Israel’s pioneering example, other nations followed the same moral path — Germany, Austria, and the Baltic States among them. Germany, through the recognition of its historical guilt, transformed repentance into a foundation of rebirth and international trust. Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania demonstrated that even small nations are capable of restoring justice, returning to their citizens not only property but dignity. These acts were not merely legal reforms; they were national acts of conscience and memory. As a result, Europe opened its doors to them. For Europe, at its deepest level, begins not with geography — but with conscience.
Today, Ukraine stands on the threshold of this same path — the path of light and moral restoration. The task before us is not only to rebuild cities destroyed by war but also to restore trust, long undermined by decades of confiscations, repression, and silence. Restitution for Ukraine is not a matter of accounting — it is the purification of the nation’s heart, an act of unity and return to truth. Before demanding justice from others, the country must restore it within itself — for those who lost homes, factories, land, dignity, and memory. A people cannot move freely toward the future while still carrying the unpaid moral debts of the past.
Having graduated with honors with a Master’s degree in International Law, I am now pursuing my PhD in the same field. My Ukrainian colleagues have supported me in this important and deeply spiritual research. Knowing that I became a rabbi, they encouraged me to devote my dissertation to the topic of restitution — as both a rabbi and a citizen of Ukraine and the United States. I am sincerely grateful to my academic mentors — Dr. Oksana Kenenberg, Dr. Dmytro Hrebeniuk, Dr. Anatolii Pavzliuk, and my colleague and friend Dr. Andrii Falkovskyi, Doctor of Science — for their guidance and shared belief that restitution is not only a legal issue, but also a moral and spiritual one.
Odesa, my home city, has always been a center of both intellectual and spiritual tradition. In this region, law, Jewish thought, and humanism have long intertwined. My childhood friend, Pavlo Kozlenko, Director of the Odesa Holocaust Museum, is recognized as one of the leading Holocaust researchers in Europe and collaborates closely with Yad Vashem in Jerusalem. This shows that Odesa — and nearby cities such as Mykolaiv, Uman, and Vinnytsia — still nurture a strong intellectual and spiritual foundation. It is no coincidence that Ze’ev Jabotinsky was from Odesa, Chaim Nachman Bialik, the father of modern Hebrew, lived here, that the Rebbe of Mykolaiv, the future Lubavitcher Rebbe, was born just two hours away, and that Rebbe Nachman of Bratslav preached nearby, in Uman. This is all Ukraine — our land — where law, faith, and memory have always spoken the same language.
Together with my colleague and friend, Hennadiy Belorytsky, a Kyiv-based Hasidic lawyer who has long helped Jewish communities in Ukraine reclaim illegally confiscated property, we co-authored an article that was cited by the National Academy of Sciences of Ukraine. That collaboration became a true friendship. After the tragic events of October 7, Hennadiy, as a Hasid and a patriot, went to Israel to stand with his people. His work is an example of how jurisprudence can become an extension of faith, and law — a form of compassion.
For me, the opportunity to write my dissertation in Ukraine is not merely an academic choice — it is a moral responsibility. Ukraine is my homeland, my native language, and my spiritual calling. At this moment, it is Ukraine that needs support in restoring justice and trust. I already hold two Master’s degrees and two Post-Master’s certificates from the United States, but I chose to pursue my third Master’s and PhD in Ukraine. It feels right. It allows me to unite the academic discipline I gained in America with the conscience and soul of my native land. And I am deeply grateful to all who guide me on this path.
My rabbinic mission unites the spiritual and the legal. I strive not only to preserve the rare Israeli cat breed Kanaani, born on the soil of Israel and reflecting its natural harmony, but also to restore justice wherever it has been lost. For me, restitution is not politics — it is a mitzvah, a sacred commandment that heals the moral fabric of society. My great-grandfather, Sruel Lekhtman, owned a brick factory confiscated by Soviet authorities. There were thousands like him — Jews, Ukrainians, Poles, Hungarians — people who lost not only property but names. And when a name is restored, a soul is reborn.
In Kabbalistic thought, every injustice creates a fracture in creation — a pegam, a wound in the fabric of light. Until that wound is healed, Divine energy cannot flow freely into the world. Restitution is the tikkun — the act of healing that fracture. When a nation repairs its past, it becomes a vessel for new light. And in that moment, law ceases to be merely law — it becomes a path of redemption.
Restitution is not about returning property — it is about returning the Divine Presence to history. Israel became the source of that light. Germany and the Baltic nations followed it, and today they thrive. Now it is Ukraine’s turn — to walk its own path of light, truth, and national unity.
Rabbi Mosha ben Israel Salita
PhD student in International Law
National University “Odesa Law Academy”
