Thirty-six years ago, Lithuania captured the world’s attention. In the face of the Soviet Union – an empire that former US President Ronald Reagan famously called the “evil empire” for its ruthless disregard for morality and human dignity – the people of this small nation chose courage over fear, leading to the dissolution of the Soviet Union.

In January 1991, unarmed citizens stood before Soviet tanks in the center of Vilnius. Some gave their lives for freedom, facing unimaginable danger for the cause of dignity and self-determination. They did not know how the story would end – but they knew they could no longer live under the degrading brutality and soulless power of the Soviet system. They stood up – and they prevailed.

History has shown again and again that empires ultimately collapse when they lose their moral and spiritual compass. When conscience disappears, even the largest armies and the most formidable arsenals eventually become irrelevant.

Today, Lithuania stands proud as a democratic, forward-looking European nation. Yet it now faces a profound moral question: how should it treat the historic Šnipiškės Jewish Cemetery in Vilnius, a sacred site scarred by the callousness of the Soviet regime?

The Šnipiškės Jewish Cemetery in Vilnius, founded hundreds of years ago, was devastated in the 20th century when the Soviets leveled its headstones – though many of the graves remained intact – and built over it; recent redevelopment plans have since sparked protests to protect and properly commemorate the sacred site.

For centuries, Vilnius was one of the great centers of Jewish learning and life in Europe. Generations of Jews lived, prayed, studied, and built their families here. Many of the most revered spiritual luminaries of Lithuanian Jewry were laid to rest in this cemetery.

Judaism is unequivocal on this matter. A cemetery is a sacred place, known as a Bais Hachayim—literally, a “House of the Living.” It is a place that must be respected and honored in every possible way. Above all, it must be left untouched and undisturbed, preserving the dignity of those who rest there for eternity.

The answer cannot be to repurpose the site.

The “Sport Palace”  building on top of the cemetery should not be used – period. It should not become a convention center. It should not become a museum.

It should not be used to memorialize a Lithuanian freedom movement. Lithuania’s freedom movement should be commemorated in a way that repudiates Soviet brutality, not in a place that embodies it. To celebrate the struggle for freedom by making use of a site that stands as a stark example of Soviet remorselessness would contradict the very values that inspired that struggle in the first place.

It should not even become a Jewish memorial complex.

The cemetery should remain exactly what it was before the Soviets attempted to erase it: a Jewish cemetery that properly honors and respects those interred there, and preserves the memory of the generations who lived in this city for so long.

Preserving this sacred cemetery is not without cost. Its central location in a rapidly developing European capital makes it attractive for investment. The Soviet-era building atop it is an eyesore. Yet moral clarity demands courage over convenience. Protecting this site  – and removing the Soviet structure from this land – is not just preservation; it is a profoundly anti-Soviet act, a stand for conscience, justice, and respect for those who cannot speak for themselves.

For if decisions are guided only by considerations of convenience or economic gain, we risk repeating the very moral blindness that characterized Soviet rule.

Since 1994, it has been my honor to represent Chabad-Lubavitch in Lithuania and to help reconnect Lithuania’s Jewish community with the rich and storied heritage that once made this country world-renowned in the Jewish world.

During the Soviet era, Chabad emissaries were hunted, imprisoned, and sometimes killed for the “crime” of teaching Torah and preserving Jewish life. Many endured years of suffering in the gulags of Siberia simply for refusing to let the flame of Jewish faith and tradition be extinguished. Their devotion to spirituality and holiness represented the very antithesis of Soviet ideology – and that is precisely why they were persecuted.

Their courage reminds us of a timeless truth: spiritual conviction and moral clarity are stronger than any empire.

Lithuania now has the opportunity to take another step forward in its moral journey. By leaving the Šnipiškės Jewish Cemetery untouched while removing the Soviet era building and allowing those buried there to rest in peace, the nation honors both its own hard-won freedom from Soviet oppression and the generations of Jews who made Vilnius their home.

This moment is about far more than removing Soviet statues or symbols. It is about reversing, in whatever measure possible, the injustices left in the wake of war and occupation. It is about placing yet another nail in the coffin of the Soviet legacy.

Above all, it is about affirming that Lithuania stands firmly for justice, conscience, and human dignity.

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)