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A Study in History and 
Social Psychology 






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THERE are two types of prejudices about the Jews 
— those entertained by Jews, and those entertained 
by non-Jews. The former are rooted in an invincible 
vanity, expressed in the conception of the "Chosen 
People," reenforced by tradition, and confirmed and 
automatically justified as a psychological mechanism 
of self-defence by the tragic status of the Jew in the 
religious doctrine and social practices of the Christian 
world. The latter arises primarily out of the implica- 
tions of the Christian religious system, which gives the 
Jew a cosmic centrality unparalleled by the status of 
other peoples, even while it outlaws him from the fellow- 
ship of mankind. Both sets of prejudices are the 
creations of the passions of hope and fear. Both 
can be much mitigated, if not entirely dissipated, by 
knowledge. Both have indeed undergone noticeable 
modification through the expansion of science and the 
growth of the objective studies of social groups and 
social events. Prejudices, however, being the symbols 
of feeling and not of understanding, die hard. Their 
lives are the longer in the degree in which they are 
implicated in those massive sentiments of society whose 
vital spark is emotion involving the fear of death 
and the hope of salvation, and whose body is an ancient 
tradition and a tissue of customs concerned, in however 



fanciful a manner, with the alleviation and gratifica- 
tion of these feelings. Any sudden interruption of 
the normal current of sentiment and behaviour, any 
break or shift in the continuity of social action, any 
cataclysm or catastrophe, throws these emotions into 
intense activity and revivifies the whole dead mass 
of past fancies, ideas, imaginings, doctrines, and prac- 
tices, no matter how silly and absurd they may be. 
The Great War has done this with respect to wide 
areas of the historic field of religion and superstition. 
It has done this also with respect to the Jews. The 
misery and unhappiness of the race in central Europe 
can be measured by the intensity of their compensatory 
hope toward Zion, and the misery and unhappiness 
of their Gentile neighbours can be measured by the 
sensibility with which they respond to revivals, in 
somewhat modernized guise, of mediaeval opinions 
about Jews by militarist, royalist conspirators from 
Germany, Russia, Hungary, Poland, acting with 
malice prepense. The mood of central Europe is a 
poison which has infected, not without purposive 
assistance from these same conspirators, England, 
France, the United States. There has rarely been a 
time when the truth about the Jews was so needful 
as an antidote to prejudice regarding the Jews among 
both Jews and Gentiles. 

It is the truth about the Jews which I have sought, 
as a psychological and philosophic student of history, 
to set down, so far as in my power lay, in this book. 
The studies of which it consists were begun in 1915, 
long before there was any suspicion of the terrible 
shattering of the structure of European society which 
is the outcome of the war to make the world safe for 


democracy. The continuation of them was modified 
by American participation in the war, which gave 
them, willy-nilly, a somewhat different direction than 
was originally intended. Some of the events here re- 
corded and analyzed I have participated in directly; 
others, I have been a close witness of. Many I have 
studied, prior to the Peace Conference, as a member 
of the Government inquiry into the terms of peace 
headed by Colonel House, in the light of the probable 
needs of the American delegation there for correct 
information. Portions of the studies, being pertinent 
to special occasions, have been previously printed. 
These are the sections of the early chapters which deal 
with the evolution of European nationalism and its 
influence on the Jewish position, a section of the chap- 
ter on American Jewry, and an abridgment of the 
last chapter. They appeared, respectively, in the 
Liter national Journal of Ethics, the American Jewish 
Chronicle, and the Menorah Journal. 

To Leo Wolman and Wesley Clair Mitchell, my 
colleagues at the New School for Social Research, I am 
indebted for much valuable criticism and suggestion; 
to Miss Lurene MacDonald, the Librarian at the 
School, for assistance in the classification of the 
material and preparing the index; to my ever-helpful 
sister, Ida Kallen, and to my old friend and pupil, Mar- 
vin Lowenthal, for aid in reading the manuscript and 
getting it ready for the press ; to my dear fellow-worker, 
Julian W. Mack, for help with the proof and many 
valuable suggestions and corrections. These acknowl- 
edgments can only scantily express what I owe them. 

H. M. Kallen. 

The New School for Social Research. 



Preface vii 


I. Pioneer, O Pioneer 1 

II. The Origin and Basis of Zionism . . 5 

III. Religious Imperialism and the Jewish 

Position 18 

IV. Effects of the Philosophy of Natural 

Rights upon the Jewish Position . 32 

V. The Nationalist Transvaluation of 
Natural Rights and the Return of 
Secular Jewish Nationalism ... 44 

VI. Secular Nationalism among the Jews 

of Eastern Europe 64 

VII. Ahad Ha'am, Herzl, and the Develop- 
ment of Organized Zionism ... 73 

VIII. Parties and Programmes after Herzl's 

Death 84 

IX. The Pre-Zionist Jewry of Palestine . . 92 

X. Zionism in Palestine and the Near- 
Eastern Question 104 

XI. Enter American Jewry 120 













Zionist Endeavour and the Politics of 

the Great War 150 

The Jewish Cause at the Peace Con- 
ference 177 

From Versailles to San Remo — The 

Basic Conflict 197 

From Versailles to San Remo — The 

Conflict in Russia and America . 208 

From Versailles to San Remo — The 
Conflict in Poland, the Ukraine, 
Hungary, and Rumania. . . . 217 

From Versailles to San Remo — Palestine 

and the Near-Eastern Problem . 244 

San Remo — The End of an Epoch . . 263 

"VitaNuova?" 274 




Zionism and World Politics 



FIFTY miles southward from Lemberg, in the 
direction of Odessa, there is a hostel owned and man- 
aged by a Polish Jew. His inn is a house by the 
side of the road, and since 1914 all manner of men have 
taken shelter in it. It has survived a hundred battles 
and five campaigns, shabbier and more rickety after 
each one, but still offering a roof over the head, and, 
on rare occasions when its owner can make a dicker 
with the peasants, a bite to eat. Most of its guests 
bring their own food, according to their rank and 
station, generals from Austrian and Russian armies, 
Polish and Ukrainian raiders, once even Soviet cavalry, 
French and British military emissaries, American 
Red Cross men and Y. M. C. A. workers. On occa- 
sion women and children of the country have taken 
refuge in its cellars, until the military pest should pass. 
Its bar has seen unspeakable cruelties committed upon 
non-combatants. To-day its guests are mostly young 
Jews and Jewesses, on their way to Palestine. 

The road beside which the inn stands is one of the 
barbarous ungraded roads of Slavic Europe. It is 
long and narrow and uncared for, pitted with deep 
holes, and speckled with hummocks. Throughout 


the greater part of the year it is an unending ditch 
of black, sticky mud. 

Throughout the greater part of the year came these 
young Jews and Jewesses — tramping, tramping, tramp- 
ing, slowly, painfully, unflinchingly on their way to 
Palestine. Often their feet burst through their worn 
shoes or are so swollen that they cannot bear to put 
shoes upon them; their clothes are rags, and they 
lean upon sticks as they walk. They carry no food 
in their knapsacks and bundles, and there is no money 
in their purses. The tavern-keeper takes them in, 
gives them shelter and, so well as he can, feeds them. 
For they are on their way to Palestine. 

They are very young — these pilgrims — some no 
more than sixteen, the oldest no more than twenty- 
five. Some have been on the way for many, many 
months; others have come quickly — in a day or two 
days. They come from everywhere. One may be 
the last surviving son of a Berlin manufacturer, ruined 
by the Great War. Another may be the only child of a 
merchant of Nijni Novgorod; a third, a rabbinical stu- 
dent from the Yeshibah at Lodz ; a fourth, an ex-secretary 
of the Bund in Warsaw, a fifth, a medical student; 
a sixth, a musician — and so on. Few of them set 
out in companies. Their companies form and dissolve 
by the wayside, like clouds adrift in the summer sky. 
Each reveals a spirit, an urge, that carries his frail 
body on, alone, tramping, tramping, tramping toward 
Palestine. They take their night's rest in the tavern 
of their fellow- Jew, and in the morning pass on their 
way through the endless mud of the endless road. 

Their like is to be found everywhere — in Warsaw, 
in Berlin, in Kovno, in Bukharest, in Kishineff, in 


Vienna, in Constantinople. They come from uni- 
versities and gymnasia, from Talmudical colleges 
and from schools of music and art. And everywhere 
they are fed and housed as in the tavern fifty miles 
southward of Lemberg, owned and managed by a 
Polish Jew. 

Officers of the Red Cross, agents of the American 
Jewish Relief Committee, emissaries of the Zionist 
Organization see them in these places and converse 
with them. They ask for nothing, save to be helped 
as quickly as possible to Palestine. They are all of 
high sensibility and delicate nurture. They have all 
undergone inconceivable hardships; some have suffered 
intolerable indignities on their long way, often of a 
thousand miles, on foot. They speak of these things 
without bitterness, without complaint. They wish 
only to get to Palestine. To reach Palestine they will 
endure everything, they will stop at nothing. They 
have heard that it is to be the national home of the 
Jewish people. They have dedicated themselves to 
build it up. They are the Halutzim, the pioneers. 

To them who know the story they bring to mind 
nothing so much as the Children's Crusade. 

Yet they are not like those crusaders, persons of 
mediaeval faith and believing passion. They are in- 
tellectuals, with the scepticisms and the deliberations 
of the modern point of view ingrained in their mental 
habit and established as their spiritual method. In 
their regard Palestine has been, from among the many 
alternatives in the rebuilding of their own lives and 
the lives of the peoples of Europe out of the ruins of 
the war, their considered choice. It is not by an 
rlarum that they are moved. If in them the House of 


Jacob has once more arisen and gone forth, it is because, 
they say, they have willed that it should be so. They 
are at once the embodiment, the victims and the 
vindicators of that ever-young passion toward Zion 
which has been the animating spirit of the Jew through 
the generations and which now seems to be on the 
threshold of its consummation, converting the Zionist 
into the Judean. 



ZIONISM is the contemporary phase of an unyield- 
ing loyalty, a practical idealism, which is without 
parallel in European history for constancy, duration, 
and force. Crossed by all the currents of aspiration 
and disillusion that were the changing mind of Europe 
for two thousand years, this loyalty or idealism re- 
mained, until recently, distinct in itself. It is the 
Jewish aspect, older than its setting, of that hunger 
for safety and happiness which, in the century before 
the beginning of the Christian era, gripped the civiliza- 
tion of the Mediterranean in an other-worldly grip, 
spread in later years to all Europe, and held it, with 
all its mutations, to the present day. The old Zion- 
ism whose heart is the hope of a new Zion was coeval 
with the moral surrender of the Stoic. It antedated 
the passionate other- worldliness of early Christianity. 
It confronted, and survived, the religious imperialism 
of the Church Triumphant when that was efficacious. 
It underwent the impact of the newer protestant order. 
It met the challenge and fecundation of science and 
free thought, of naturalism and secularism. And it 
has emerged, more essentially continuous with itself, 
more essentially like what it was in its beginnings than 
any other aspiration or adventure which the great 
tradition of Europe knows. 



Of this tradition the biography of Zionism is an 
integral part, both soil and substance of its ancient 
roots, and leaf and branch of its spreading life, seeking 
the free air and the sun. Its nature is at once that of 
a vision and that of an adventure. Of a vision, be- 
cause it sets forth no incarnate and existing society, 
no operating association of men. Of an adventure, 
because it never altogether lost grips with reality, 
never was quite cut off from the spot of tangible 
earth which might be not only sought, but found and 
touched and, in spite of all disillusion, loved, in the 
world of living men and real things. To make this 
spot of earth once more theirs in fact as it was in 
spirit, men and women of Jewish blood, generation 
after generation, during two thousand years, abandoned 
their all and went apilgrimming toward the Promised 
Land. Zionism is simply to-day's phase of the un- 
yielding effort of the Jewish people to make good the 
Promise of the Promised Land. 

This Promised Land, glamour though much of it is, 
is yet no Land of Beulah, no Kingdom of Heaven in 
regions supernal. It is a definite piece of the earth's 
surface, of definite dimensions, bordering on the Mediter- 
ranean and lying at the junction of the three conti- 
nental masses of the Eastern Hemisphere. It has been 
the battle ground of the civilizations of antiquity. 
It has been the motherland of the dominant religions 
of the western world. The names of its mountains 
and its valleys, of its cities and towns and villages, 
have been woven into the texture of the mind of Europe. 
For a thousand years its chief city was regarded as 
the centre of the very universe and all its places as holy 
places. Yet important as has been the role of these 


and of the land that holds them in the life of mankind, 
that importance is of small degree beside the role 
of this land in the life and labours of the Jewish people. 
It is from the latter, in fact, that the former derives. 
Palestine has been the centre of the Jewish theory 
of life and the Jews' outlook on the world. Their 
national tradition is built around it. Entering it, 
staying in it, being driven from it, returning to it, 
are the instigating motives of their historic narratives, 
of their prophetic books, of their psalms, their liturgy, 
their prayers, their collective endeavour in the com- 
munity of mankind. No people in history has identi- 
fied itself in joy and in sorrow, and always in aspiration, 
so completely with a single land, and a land which the 
great majority of their generations have known only 
in prayer, in idea, in vision, for a thousand years. 

This identification is itself a universally accepted 
commonplace of the great tradition of the Western 
world. The connection between the Jew and Palestine, 
the connection between Palestine and the Jew is 
customary, natural, a matter of course even to the 
least literate of Europeans. So, also, by and large, 
is the reunion of these two that have been sepa- 

The original source of these commonplaces of the 
European mind is of course that body of varied docu- 
ments, sacred to Jew and Christian alike: the Bible. 
A secondary but equally potent source is Christian 
theology. According to the biblical narrative, the 
history of the Jews as a people may be said to begin 
with the hope of the Promised Land, with the conscious- 
ness of a goal to be attained collectively, in return for 
the assumption of a collective obligation to a super- 


natural being. This consciousness in the course of 
time converted a congeries of tribes into a nation, and 
the nation into a self-conscious aspirant toward that 
righteousness without which must come disaster. 
Israel, in a word, regarded himself as a "chosen people." 
Between him and Jehovah there is a contract. Israel 
is to devote himself to the exclusive service and worship 
of Jehovah: Jehovah, in return, is to lead Israel to 
the Promised Land, to keep him and to prosper him 
there. The service and worship of Jehovah and the 
prosperity and growth of the nation in Zion were func- 
tions of one another. How, under the influence of 
the changes from a nomadic to an agricultural order 
of life, the nature and terms of the contract changed; 
how, under the propaganda of the prophets, from Amos 
to Isaiah, ritual in the service of Jehovah was replaced 
by righteousness; how national security became cor- 
relative, in idea at least, with social justice, are com- 
monplaces of all critical histories of the ancient Jews. 
Already in Amos the prophetic philosophy of history is 
manifest: Divine Law requires justice and loving- 
kindness between men and states; disobedience of this 
law is followed by disaster, brought through God's 
will by one state upon another, all states and kings be- 
ing merely the tools and servants of God. This philos- 
ophy is already ripe in the sermons of Jeremiah, but 
tradition accords supreme excellence to the expression 
given it by the second Isaiah. Applied to the domes- 
tic history and foreign relations of the Jewish state, 
it interpreted national defeat at the hands of enemies 
of Israel as the consequence of domestic iniquity, and 
national survival and national victory as coincident 
with domestic righteousness. Righteousness became 


the condition of political and military security. Ex- 
pulsion from the Promised Land was, hence, the con- 
sequence of sin, and return thereto would be the reward 
of a return to righteousness. 

Events subjected this philosophy to a drastic test. 
That it did not possess a monopoly over the thinkers 
of Israel may be seen from the theory of life promul- 
gated in the Book of Job, which divorces fortune from 
morals altogether, but there is in the prophetic theory a 
certain compensatory dimension, a quality of consola- 
tion and justification, which renders it more relevant 
than the Joban theory to the aboriginal hopes of men 
and to Nature's disregard of them. Carried to its 
logical limit, it must lead the man who has been right- 
eous but unfortunate all his life to the conception of 
another life and another world beyond Nature, in 
which he will be fortunate as well as righteous, and 
in which the wicked will be unfortunate as well as 
wicked. This is precisely what Christianity, once 
extended beyond the bounds of Jewry, did. But the 
Jews then and there did not go so far. For them, 
reward and punishment were here and now, where 
sin and virtue were, and the hope of good fortune for 
the righteous was a hope for this world and not another. 
Particularly was this the case for a whole people, a 
nation, whose span of life overarches the brief mor- 
tality of the individual. The people of Israel, banished 
from its land for its unrighteousness, should be restored 
for its righteousness. This was Jehovah's promise, 
and in this promise his people might take comfort. 
The restoration would be bodily, political, physical. 
It would install an era of international peace and in- 
ternational comity, the rule of law replacing the 


rule of force and the life of cooperation, the life of 

And it shall come to pass in the end of days, 
That the mountain of the Lord's house shall be estab- 
lished in the top of the mountains, 
And shall be exalted above the hills; 
And all nations shall flow into it. 
And many people shall go and say: 
"Come ye, and let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, 
To the house of the God of Jacob; 
And he will teach us of His ways 
And we will walk in His paths." 
For out of Zion shall go forth the law, 
And the word of the Lord from Jerusalem. 
And He shall judge between the nations 
And shall decide for many peoples; 
And they shall beat their swords into ploughshares 
And their spears into pruning-hooks; 
Nation shall not lift up sword against nation, 
Neither shall they learn war any more. 1 

Dithyrambs such as this, of different imagery, but 
of the same identical spirit and outlook, are scattered 
throughout all the prophetic books. They are the 
well-springs of subsequent Jewish speculation about 
the nature and destiny of the Jewish people, from the 
primal passions of the prophets to the sophisticated 
formulations of modern Jewish theology-mongers. 
The conception of the "mission' of Israel, which the 
latter make so much of, springs from them, and the 
Jewish repudiation of that conception springs equally 
from them. They underlie the Jew's loyalty to his 
law or Torah, and the invincible optimism with which 
the mass of the Jewish people have clung to it. "This 

1 Isaiah n, 1-5. 


is the law," says the daily prayer, "which Moses set 
before the Children of Israel, according to the word 
of the Lord. To all who cling unto her, she is a tree 
of life, and it is well with those who depend upon her. 
Her ways are ways of kindness, and all her surrounding 
is peace." The real and adequate practice of the law, 
however, the prayer-book also tells us, can be achieved 
only in the Promised Land, nor can the law prevail 
among the nations until the restoration to the Promised 
Land is accomplished. 

This restoration, from the first exile in the seventh 
century before the beginning of the Christian era 
through the first millennium after it, is conceived in 
political terms. The prophets, indeed, are politicians 
and statesmen, concerning themselves with both 
domestic and foreign problems, and using 'the word 
of the Lord" as authority for their political doctrine 
and social policy. The "law" which they preached, 
as we have it in Deuteronomy and Leviticus, is an 
obvious response to the challenge of the injustices of 
ancient — and for that matter, of modern — society. 
The ideal of international peace under a general law 
for all nations is the outcome of the bitter political 
experience of a small state situated at the junction 
point between the competing military imperialisms 
of Asia and Africa. The Prophets were nothing if 
not realpolitiker with a passion for the preservation of 
Israel for Zion and of Zion for Israel, and they grew 
to realize that the only device by which this could be 
secured was an international order and a single law. 
After the manner of the ancients, they attributed 
to this law a divine origin and sanction, and described 
its rule as the rule of God. But the substance of their 


vision is not other than that of the vision of all interna- 
tionalists who regard the realities of the relations 
between nations and states and hope for their improve- 
ment. It was evoked by the same recurrent causes: 
how could it have other than the same essence? 

Their glory is that they were the first in all the 
world to envisage and to utter that essence, but they 
uttered it. none the less, out of the fervour of their 
patriotism, and not because they had blurred the living 
diversities of mankind in an unreal abstraction, labelled 
"humanity." Prophetic "universalism" did not abol- 
ish the nations, it harmonized the nations; and it was 
nationalistic to the point of giving to Israel a dominant 
tone in the international harmony, and to Zion the 
foremost place. Indeed, when it was most "universal," 
it was most actively nationalistic, for the rhythms 
of deutero-Isaiah, the utterances of Zechariah and of 
Haggai framed the conspiracy to restore the indepen- 
dence of the Kingdom with Zerubbabel, servant of the 
Lord, scion of the House of David, for King. 1 Behind 
the conspiracy was an urge to independence and to 
freedom from the foreign yoke which never subsided 
so long as there was the semblance of a Jewish govern- 
ment in Palestine. When prophet gave way to priest 
as the master of the mind of Judea, it was the uncon- 
scious cause of the friction between the native and 
the foreign administrations. It underlay the succes- 
sive resistances, both spiritual and physical, to Persian 
and Greek conquerors. It animated the Hasmonean 
uprising and found itself in the Hasmonean indepen- 
dence, and when the alliance with Rome which was to 
guard that independence became its ravisher, it took 

1 Zechariah vi, 9-15. 


the form of the new schisms within the state; the re- 
sistance to Herod, the hope of a champion, of a Messiah 
like Judas Maccabaeus; the rebellion against Titus 
and the final uprising and brief success of Bar Kochba. 
Even after the terrible revenge which the imperial 
government took for that uprising, the will of the Jews 
for a free Zion remained unbroken. Oppressed and 
persecuted by emperor after emperor, particularly 
after Christianity had become the imperial religion, 
they had strength enough to join in the seventh cen- 
tury the invading Persians against the Romans, in 
the hope of reestablishing their ancient state. That 
hope was again disappointed. When the country re- 
verted to Byzantium, the monks persuaded the Em- 
peror Heraclius to exterminate the Jews. Those who 
escaped joined their brethren in Egypt and elsewhere 
in the mediterranean world, to hope anew. 

The most lasting thing which these exiles, like all 
their kind, carried with them was, then, this hope of 
the restoration to Palestine. It dominated the liturgy 
and the poetry of the exile; it governed Jewish policy 
and suffused the Jewish outlook. It underlies the 
organization of the Jewish communal economy, con- 
tributing elements in the practice of the ritual and the 
observation of the seasons. For a thousand years it 
continued to be an aspiration of practical political 
import, reenforced with religious faith. Wherever a 
Jewish community was to be found, then as now, the 
prayer could be heard: "For our sins have we been 
banished from our country and removed far from our 
land,' together with the invocation for the return to 
Zion, for the reestablishment of the Davidic throne, for 
the realization of the prophetic pledge. "We cannot," 


says the prayer, "in our banishment serve Thee accord- 
ing to Thy commandment." "Next year in Jerusalem," 
is a change rung again and again in the liturgy both 
of week days and Sabbaths, and of holydays. It links 
itself with the political activities of a whole millennium : 
hardly a century passed in which the Jews of one coun- 
try or another were not called upon by a self -proclaimed 
Messiah to gird up their loins and, by miracle or mili- 
tancy, win back to Zion. In fifth-century Crete, one 
Moses, assuming miracles, led his people into the sea, 
where most were drowned. David Alroy, again in 
the twelfth century, actually succeeded in developing 
a military adventure strong enough six hundred years 
later to rouse the imagination of Beaconsfield, who 
made a novel about him. The expectancy of a political 
restoration, under the leadership of an earthly Messiah, 
was a commonplace in the mood of Europe. It is 
sharply evinced in the tenth-century letter of Chasdai 
ibn Shaprut to the King of the Chazars, judaized by 
conversion; and it is literally accepted by non- Jewish 
Europe. To the Christian mind, no less than to the 
Jewish, Palestine is the Jewish land and the Jews are 
the Palestinian people, foreign to Europe, absent from 
their own land, and in the fulness of time to be returned 
to it. The equity of the Jew in Palestine has remained 
a strand in the great tradition of the Christian world. 
The return of this chosen people to this promised land 
was regarded by multitudes as an essential preliminary 
to the second coming of the Saviour, and the fulfilment 
of the forecasts of Christian eschatology. To Chris- 
tians of the first millennium this return was more 
deeply implicated in a system of supernaturalism than 
to the Jews, but however implicated, it was expected. 


The development and final enthronement of a similar 
supernaturalism among the Jews were accomplished 
in the twelfth century. The position of the Jews in 
European countries grew steadily worse. Disability 
and persecution were multiplied, and the temper of 
the Crusades brought them to a climax. Under the 
circumstances, the notion of a naturalistic, though 
divinely predetermined, restoration which should be 
salvation from horror and evil, could not withstand 
the assault of misfortune. That the restoration must 
come, the Jews of the world became more and more 
convinced: how else could Israel escape alive out of 
the inferno which the Church Militant had made for 
them of their lives? But that it could come out of 
their own strength, a natural eventuality of the pro- 
cess of history, was no longer conceivable. They 
were too weak, too battered, impotent against their 
persecutors. Only the might of a miracle could save 
them and restore them. And as the figure and mode 
of their salvation had already been established in 
tradition and legend as Messiah the son of David, 
this Messiah acquired a more and more supernatural 

Already in the beginnings of the Messianic legend 
there had been a potential differentiation between an 
earthly and a heavenly Messiah. The failure of 
the earthly Messiahship of the leader of the little sect 
that later developed into the Christian multitude led 
to the immediate compensation of the other-worldly 
ideal which is the Messiahship of the Christian; salva- 
tion from evil and happiness both became heavenly 
things: earth was regarded as a trial and a transition, 
to be abandoned and spurned. The Messiah was God 


and the Son of God, miserable on earth but omnipotent 
in the universe. This ideal denial of real failure the 
Jews had refused to accept. They fought and hoped 
on for twelve hundred years. And when, finally, 
misfortune and the contagion from their intellectual 
and emotional setting made other-worldliness a part 
of their outlook, it did not become the overruling 
part. The Messiah became a supernatural figure 
indeed, preexisting, and destined to conquer the enemy 
and persecutor and to restore Israel by means of miracle, 
but the end achieved was still to be a natural and his- 
toric end continuous with the rest of the movement 
of history, even if the means were to be discontinuous 
and supernatural. From the twelfth century on, the 
self-proclaimed Messiahs are more and more miracle- 
workers, philosophasters, men of a psychopathic strain. 
Their moral and intellectual settings are misery, magic, 
and mysticism, the two latter being the complement 
of, and escape from, the former. For the same reason 
the puerilities of the Kabbala became constitutional 
to their outlook and Kabbalism itself a dominant in- 
fluence on the mind and fortunes of Jewry. But the 
misery and the compensatory supernaturalism reached 
their height in the seventeenth century. Their symbol 
was the false or pseudo-Messiah, Sabbattai Zevi of 
Smyrna. Only that he was a charlatan, weak and 
without integrity, not that he was a false Messiah, 
must be regarded a reproach to him. All Messiahs 
are false when they fail, for the success of works, not 
faith, is the only proof of true Messiahship, and how is 
the success of works to be achieved by the means and 
attributes of the Messiahs of thaumaturgy? The 
importance of Sabbattai Zevi was due to the European 


character of his influence. Not only Jews fell under 
it. It touched statecraft and affected the policies 
of the world. It is the ironic and picturesque expira- 
tion of a period in the history of the European struggle 
for democracy. 



THE year 1648 is a momentous one in the history of 
Europe. It is the year of the Peace of Westphalia and of 
the formation of the Puritan Commonwealth in England. 
It marks the end of over a hundred years of warfare 
and the final overthrow of a political principle which 
had dominated Europe to its hurt since the Council 
of Nicaea, in the 325th year of the Christian era. This 
was so built into the social system of the Christian 
world that much of the history of this world might 
be described as a narrative of the methods hit upon or 
chosen to evade or oppose it. The principle might 
be designated, briefly, as the principle of religious 
imperialism. It was a new thing when it was promul- 
gated. The ancient and pagan world knew nothing 
about it. It came to Europe as a logical implication 
of the Christian philosophy of life, and the status 
and fate of the Jews were closely bound up with it. 
Although the religions of the states of antiquity, Athens, 
or Sparta, or Corinth, or Judea, or Rome, were state 
religions, they did not imply intolerance toward the 
gods of other states, particularly when those states 
were not at war. Between these gods and their wor- 
shippers there was held to be a certain community, 
looking back to a community of blood, which gave 
the gods a prerogative and monopoly on the reverence 



and worship of the citizens, and the citizens a claim 
to priority on the good-will and protection of the gods. 
All gods, as we see most conspicuously in the case of 
Jehovah, had certain tribal, civic, national predilections 
and obligations, even when most universal and all- 
embracing in their divinities. They remained to a 
great degree chthonic, with larger powers and jurisdic- 
tion over special places, and very specific centres of 
worship and residence. The men of the ancient world 
expressed this divine economy by paying due reverence 
to the gods of the lands in which they travelled or so- 
journed. Even military conquerors, like Alexander, 
in a day so late as his, worshipped at the shrines of the 
divinities whose lands they had devastated and im- 
plored them for favour and cooperation. Later and 
more sophisticated times retained this sense of chthonic 
over-lordship, and the Romans made it a practice to 
remove the religious holies from the lands of their 
conquest to appropriate sanctuaries in Rome. The pro- 
tective power of the divinities, it was supposed, would 
then accrue to the state of their domicile. Thus pagan 
Rome was not only tolerant of, but hospitable to, 
the diversity of religions and of the nationalities of 
which religions were among the distinguishing marks. 
The growth of the empire, in fact, exercised in this 
regard a liberalizing influence, in that it necessitated 
a very large degree of differentiation between citizen- 
ship and cult. Because of the tribal background of the 
small city-states and of their tradition of blood- 
brotherhood and common ancestry, an alien could 
rarely become a citizen, even in Athens, the freest 
of them: he could only be a righteous stranger, as the 
Bible has it, a sojourner, entitled to justice, but not to 


participation in the intimacies of the state's life. 
The empire founded by Alexander, which had a sharply 
conscious missionary character, continued this tradi- 
tion. Although it imposed Greek forms of political 
and social organization and Greek habits of life and 
thought upon the mediterranean world, it did not 
establish a common, citizenship which should be de- 
tached from the local society wherein the privileges 
of citizenship had to be predominantly exercised. 
This was an achievement of Roman imperialism. 

Roman imperialism, preoccupied from the outset 
with maintaining the Roman hegemony, the pax 
Romana of the Roman legions and the Roman law, 
left local customs and practices intact, indeed sub- 
sidized and encouraged them. Nationalities and 
cults flourished and had heyday in the empire so 
long as they were considered not to be dangerous to the 
state. Until the advent of Christianity there were 
no religious persecutions in Rome. There was police 
and military action against political criminals, who 
practised or were supposed to practise a doctrine 
subversive of loyalty to the state. Otherwise, freedom 
of thought, of belief and cult was, as in some places 
in recent times, untrammelled. Had they not been, 
Christianism never could have made headway against 
its rivals. When, for reasons of his own, Constantine 
made Christianism the religion of the state, the empire 
was thrown back to the position of the city-state 
which it had outgrown, and worse. This deteriorative 
reversion was inevitable from the assumptions of 
Christianity itself. For these assumptions the Judaism 
of the priests, as distinguished from the Hebraism 
of the prophets, has its own responsibility. So long 


as men admit that alternatives are possible to any 
theories or doctrines they may entertain, the rigours of 
intolerance and the arrogances of infallibility cannot 
develop. Experience remains the court of last re- 
sort in the judgment of truth. Truth remains a thing 
not primary but eventual, and this eventuality in the 
knowledge of what is true and what is false among 
alternatives keeps them more or less equal, and bars 
intolerance. This was the case with the congeries of 
national divinities of most of the city-states of the 
ancient world. With hieratic Judaism there came, 
however, a difference. It assumed the sole and ex- 
clusive right to the acquisition and possession of the 
truth, as revelation. Everything else, consequently, 
no matter what it was, nor how or where it came from, 
had to be regarded as error. Truth being given 
finally and completely, its possessor was infallible, 
and debate, experiment, the whole intellectual enter- 
prise, the scientific attitude of mind, became malice 
and perversity. Difference became either concealed 
agreement or blasphemous defence of error. For 
people to whom Holy Scripture was the sum and sub- 
stance of all wisdom, the philosophers and scientists 
must needs be either its interpreters or its enemies, 
and were so held. 

When the Christian sectaries made of the script 
which had become to the Jews the revealed word of 
God their own holy,' adding thereto the New Testament, 
they also made their own the assumption of infallibility 
of hieratic Judaism. The adoption of Christianity 
as the state religion gave them the force wherewith 
to make this assumption effective. Citizenship be- 
came conditional on conformity to certain artificial 


standards of right doctrine, those opinions which 
failed to conform being, ex hypothesi, false, and the 
judges of the failure being the ruling class to whom 
the guardianship of the standards had accrued. The 
Jews were, by the implications of the fundamental 
doctrines of Christianity, non-conformists, and hence 
without title to citizenship. Imperial edict deprived 
them of it in the year 339, and the bulk of them have 
remained thus deprived to the present day. In the 
course of time all infidels, non-conformists, dissenters, 
heretics, became automatically outlaws, and a large 
portion of the history of European civilization is the 
history of an attempt, on the one side to crush them 
out, by fire and sword, on the other side to compel 
their acquiescence by force or persuasion. No doubt 
other motives than the religious were involved; no 
doubt the latter was often used as an excuse for other 
types of greed and aggression, but until the Reforma- 
tion and after, it remained the foremost in the con- 
sciousness of Europe. 

To the consciousness of Europe the world was basic- 
ally an Augustinian epic. Eternal and Omnipotent 
God, it held, had created in six days' time a perfect 
world. This perfection would never have lapsed if 
Adam had not of his own free will disobeyed the com- 
mand of Eternal and Omnipotent God. His disobedi- 
ence brought death into the world and all our woe. 
It caused his banishment from Paradise. The sin, 
original with him, became a hereditary, constitutional, 
outstanding element in the nature of all his offspring. 
All, together with the world God made for them, were 
deserving of, and under God's justice were predestined 
to, eternal destruction, had God's mercy not prevailed 


against God's justice and provided atonement. At 
various times, hence, he manifested himself to a 
selected portion of the sons of Man, to the seed of 
Abraham, namely. To these he delivered his law, 
with the view of an eventual atonement for Adam's 
original sin, and the redemption of man from the pen- 
alty of it. Hence the incarnation and the crucifixion. 
These are the atonement, vicarious of course, but none 
the less the salvation of those predestined to believe. 
Such, predestinate from the beginning of time, are the 
citizens of the City of God, of the Church catholic, 
universal. All others are citizens of the City of the 
World. The Jews, particularly, belong to this latter 
city. They had been God's first chosen. To them 
he had revealed himself, with them had made his cove- 
nant, to them had sent as Messiah his only-begotten 
son who was only another form of himself, for the re- 
demption of sin -cursed mankind. And they had re- 
jected the Messiah and had had him nailed to the cross. 
For this God rejected them in their turn and cursed 
them to live under the ban of his rejection, outcast 
from the community of the saved, plying forbidden 
vocations in disaster and dispersion until the second 
coming of the Messiah of the Lord, and the restoration 
at his hands. 

This eschatology, furthermore, was inextricably 
interwoven with the social system of the feudal order, 
a system that has its maximum ideal expression in the 
bull Unam Sanctam. It is a thing of logic tempered 
by rebellion, resting consciously in metaphysics as 
few social systems have. Its basis is the omnipotence 
of God, without whose sustaining grace nothing can 
be or come to be. But this sustaining grace is not 


regarded as being distributed equally and impartially 
among all the children of God. Existence is a hier- 
achy and its parts are related as the links of a pendent 
chain. Each hangs from the other, without which 
it would fall into the abyss. Since the greatest strain 
is on the highest link, in that must be concentrated 
the greatest power, and as there is no strain to speak 
of on the lowest link, least power is needed or belongs 
in that. The highest link, directly pendent on God, 
is the Pope, his vicegerent on earth, the visible symbol 
and concretion of the Church universal. In him, 
consequently, must be the maximum concentration 
of the grace of God. From him it passes downward 
and outward, to the princes of the Church and the 
temporal power, like light decreasing in intensity with 
its distance from the source, so that when it finally 
reaches the peasant serf there is enough left for the 
sacraments of baptism, confirmation, marriage, and 
burial, but nothing else. Everybody in society de- 
pends on somebody higher up, and woe to the man who 
has no overlord to depend upon. He is a "masterless 
man," without status or right, the prey of any power 
strong enough to seize him. 

The enforcement of this social system, save in the 
case of the serfs and the Jews, was never complete. 
The temporal struggled against the arrogations of the 
ecclesiastical power, emperors against popes, kings 
against emperors, noblemen of lesser rank against 
kings, cities against dynasts, and on occasion even the 
peasants rose. The great majority of these conflicts 
were, however, conflicts within a framework of unanim- 
ity. The hand of every man was against the infidel, 
the dissenter, the non-conformist. The Inquisition 


was as impartial as the temporal power was debauched. 
Religious imperialism was stronger than political 
imperialism and for a long time succeeded in maintain- 
ing by force as truly catholic a unanimity as, human 
nature being what it is, was humanly possible. One 
dissentient sect after another arose and went down 
before this force, from the Arians, Lollards, Hussites, 
to the Huguenots. The Jews alone, in the heart of 
Europe, underwent without resistance a religious war 
waged against them by the whole of Europe, and sur- 
vived it. They were the everlasting protestants. 

But the conscience of Europe was not freed until the 
mutual interplay and rivalry of religious and dynastic 
interests brought about that military confrontation 
in religious terms which we know as the Wars of the 
Reformation. Those wars, quite as much a conflict 
of dynasties for empire as of doctrines for domination, 
and carried on almost continuously for nearly a cen- 
tury and a half, finally destroyed the imperialism of 
religion in Europe. They left the continent a desert, 
the feudal order shattered, the local sovereign an 
autocrat, and the peasantry almost destroyed. But 
particularly they left the mind of Europe free from 
the central fixation to which religious imperialism 
had compelled it, and both the misery and enterprise 
of Europe free for intellectual adventure. The de- 
struction of the imperialism of the Church converted 
it into the opportunist foe of the temporal power, 
and its theorists, like the Jesuit brothers Mariana and 
Suarez, opposed the people to the kings and super- 
imposed the Church on both. Protestantism itself, 
again, by setting the authority of the Bible against 
that of the Pope and abolishing intermediaries between 


God and the hearts of men, struck at all authority, 
political as well as ecclesiastical. The idea of the natu- 
ral rights of man was used to confront the tradition 
of the divine rights of kings. Political doctrine took 
imaginative wings. The challenge to sovereignty 
was made effective in England by a formal trial and 
genuine execution of a king according to the law of 
the land above which he had, as its supposititious source, 
been held to be. In the rest of Europe this challenge 
became a potential menace, working in the background 
of men's thoughts, and bursting now and then into 
the foreground in action. 

But if men found themselves in real ideas of this 
type, they sought also to escape from the misery to 
which the ideas were a response in a new lease of super- 
naturalism and a new magic. The substitution of 
the Bible for the church as the seat of authority in 
religion aroused interest, intellectual but by no means 
kindly, in the People of the Book and all their works. 
The Kabbala had almost immediately seized the wan- 
dering imagination of Europe. Its mysteries, letters, 
phrases, and calculations, its pretensions to magical 
powers, allied as they were with hidden meanings 
universally attributed to the Bible, fascinated the 
imagination of Europeans, from Pico della Mirandola 
to the latest English Biblitaster mulling in mysteries. 
This, together with the complete emotional and intel- 
lectual decentralization, could not but lead to anticipa- 
tions of the Messiah. The time of the restoration of 
Israel to Palestine and of the second advent was held 
to be at hand. Kabbalistic calculations among Jews 
put it in 1648. And Christian millennianists put it in 


Between 1648 and 1666 — the era of Sabbattai' 
Zevi's "mission" — came, however, one of the very 
darkest pages of the history of the Jewish people. 
Their status in Europe derived from two assumptions, 
both implicit in their alienation from citizenship in 
339. The first was that they were members of a 
foreign nation, living in their own communities, under 
their own laws, and governed by their own hereditary 
or elective rulers. The stress thrown by theology 
on the absence of the Jews from Zion, the designation 
of their absence as a Galuth or dispersion, has obscured 
the truly national character of the Jewish community, 
national both in the political and the cultural sense. 
Men forget that absence from Palestine meant presence 
somewhere else, and it happens that there has been 
hardly a period in the history of the Jewish people 
without the concentration of the greater part of them 
upon a single continuous area, into a community 
organized and operating under Jewish law. That it 
was not sovereign, in the sense of being a war-making, 
peace-making community; that it was a subject- 
nationality, largely at the mercy of its neighbours; 
that it was hence a repressed community without 
freedom for its spontaneous energies, are matters of 
record. Nevertheless, it was a political entity, self- 
determined and with almost complete internal au- 
tonomy, and was until the nineteenth century dealt 
with as such by the masters of Europe and Asia. 
Such an entity was the Exilarchate of the House of 
David, which came into being with the Babylonian 
Captivity; such was the Nagidate in Egypt; such was 
the Wa'ad Arbah Arazoth (Council of the Four Lands) 
or Congressas Judaicus in the Polish Empire. The 



latter dominion, extending at the time when this Con- 
gress flourished almost from the Baltic to the Black 
Sea, was the great area of concentration for the Jewish 
people of Europe from the thirteenth century onward. 
These Jewish governments acted for the Jewish people 
in all matters affecting their relations with their land- 
lords, conquerors, or overlords. 

The Congressus Judaicus, indeed, was an echo of the 
Polish Saym resting on a foundation of congregational 
units and achieving what was for the time a very high 
degree of democracy. It was responsible to the Polish 
kings both for the domestic and the foreign affairs 
of the Jews, particularly for taxes. It was the one 
agency that stood between the Jewry of Poland and 
the total destruction that menaced it with the Chmel- 
nicki uprising in 1648. The Messianic afflatus of the 
period was largely a function of this uprising. An act 
of revolt and resentment on the part of the Ukrainian 
khlops or peasantry against the unbearable exactions 
of their Polish overlords, it struck hardest at the Jews. 
The Jews had been agents of these overlords — taxf armers, 
factors, and such — and they were the first to pay. Chmel- 
nicki organized a Jew-hunt that ranged from Podolia 
and Volhynia to Lithuania and White Russia. He 
was followed by the Great Russians, who had declared 
war upon the Poles. The Russians were followed by 
the plague. In the course of little more than a decade 
the Jewish people had lost 675,000 of their number, 
their homes were devastated, their property destroyed. 
Thousands fled to western Europe, other thousands 
sought safety in baptism. Without the help of the 
Jewry of western Europe, which came swiftly and gene- 
rously, the Congressus Judaicns of Poland could never 


have reconstituted the economy of their nation. But 
the great comfort of their misery was the word out of 
the East of the imminence of the Messiah and the 
return to the Promised Land. They believed — how, 
so miserable, could they help believing? — and their 
belief sustained them. 

Religious doctrine had its own part in their misery. 
It was the second and other ground of their disability, 
a more terrible ground, for the position of the Jew in 
the European religious system, no matter what the 
sect, was regarded as determined by divine revelation 
and was a commonplace of faith that was taught to 
the poorest serf. The Jew was held to be eternally 
excommunicate from the gates of the common salvation, 
rejector of it, and cursed for the rejection. His 
existence, hence, could be maintained only on sufferance. 
Being beyond communion, he was incommunicado, 
without rights, civil or personal. The Church might 
order his destruction, over-ruling even the will of the 
king, whose property, according to the mediaeval 
custom, the Jew was automatically held to be. The 
Church authorities in Poland were indefatigable in their 
efforts against the Jews and their faith. They drove 
them from the public service, assaulted the general 
principles of their charter, demanded and compelled 
sumptuary laws against them, both of dress and domi- 
cile, spread against them blood libels and levied on them 
illegal and extortionate taxes. The Reformation gave 
the Church in Poland, as elsewhere, an added animus. 
Jewish influence was credited with causing the heresy, 
and any punishment short of death was not too great. 
"The Church," declared the Ecclesiastical Synod of 
1542, "tolerates the Jews for the sole purpose of re- 


minding us of the torments of the Saviour." Between 
1648 and 1666 the Catholicism of Poland finished off 
the uncompleted depredations of Chmelnicki and his 
Haidamacks and of the Muscovite and his troops. 
The misery of the Polish Jews reached a depth so ulti- 
mate that their minds could not conceive of a salvation 
less so. The new Messiah was believed in with a 
fervour measurable only by the tragedy from which 
he was to save his people. "The Jews of Ukrainia," 
writes the Christian, Galatovski, who flourished at the 
period, " abandoned their all in readiness to be carried 
on a cloud to Jerusalem." 

In sum, then, between 1648 and 1666 the political, 
intellectual, and emotional condition of the whole 
European world was such that the achievement of 
the restoration of the chosen people to their promised 
land was generally accepted as the imminent precursor 
to a millennial change. The anticipation moved all 
classes of society equally, from the miserable and 
expropriated peasantry and Jewry, seeking in magic 
salvation from fact, to the most intellectual and scien- 
tific protagonists of that new adjustment of cosmic out- 
look which we call science. It is used by Mennaseh 
ben Israel in his successful effort to persuade Cromwell 
to remove the ban against the settlement of Jews in 
England. "The opinion," he writes, "of many Chris- 
tians and mine do concur therein that we both believe 
that the restoring time of our Nation into their native 
country is very near at hand." It is the subject of 
exchange between the Gentile scholar Oldenburg and 
the Jewish philosopher Spinoza. "All the world here," 
Oldenburg writes to Spinoza, "is talking of a rumour 
of the return of the Israelites ... to their own 


country. . . . Should the news be confirmed, it 
may bring about a revolution in all things." And 
Spinoza, many years later, when the Sabbattian craze 
was already subsident, arguing in the Theologico- 
Political Tractate for the equality of all peoples before 
God, insists that whatever election the Jews were 
beneficiaries of was national and social, that it "had 
no regard to aught but dominion and physical advan- 
tages, for by such alone could one nation be distin- 
guished from another." "Nay, I would go so far 
as to believe that if the foundations of their religion 
have not emasculated their minds they may even, 
if the occasion offers, so changeable are human affairs, 
raise up their empire afresh and that God may a second 
time elect them." 

The significant thing about the whole Sabbattian 
adventure and the development that led up to it is 
the fact that nowhere in Europe was there any question 
that the Jews are a nation, that Palestine is "their 
own country," that the two belong together. Nor has 
there been any question in the European mind since. 




FOR Europe the Messianic expectancy was only a 
passing mood. Science, begun as an adventure, be- 
came an institution; its temper of interrogation and 
challenge forced everything under analytical scrutiny, 
from the least-regarded spontaneities of nature to 
the most sacrosanct taboos of man. The eighteenth 
century incorporated into its common sense what had 
been daring imagination in the seventeenth, and its 
calm and satirical eye discerned underneath all the 
differences of race, faith, colour, wealth, power, station, 
nurture, and capacity, a "natural man' ; the equal 
and the peer of his fellows. Inequalities, it declared, 
were the artificial effects of the institutions of civiliza- 
tion; the effects of the State and the Church, which, 
again, were the perversions of nature by the few in their 
immemorial exploitation of the many. One God, one 
law, one human nature are at the foundation of all 
life. Each man is the like of every other man; each is 
equally and inalienably entitled with all others to 
'life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness"; each has 
contracted the insurance of his title by consenting 
to the creation of government; each has been then 
defrauded by the government he has created of just 
that natural right which he had designed it to protect. 



Strip away government, the Church, the economic 
order, and you abolish crime and poverty and the 
whole hierarchy of social inequalities. All these are 
man-made. They do not exist in nature, and they 
should not be tolerated by enlightened men. By 
nature men are citizens of the world, not of the state; 
followers of natural religion, not of this or that fabrica- 
tion of priests; like lovers of one another, not haters 
seduced thereto by artificial diversities. By nature, 
men are equal and alike, they differ only by nurture. 

This teaching, common to England and to France, 
particularly strong in France, was not, of course, the 
pure deduction of science. It was quite as much, and 
perhaps more, resentment against the concentrated 
absolutism which had become characteristic of the 
state system of Europe in the eighteenth century. In 
England alone had this failed to fix itself firmly, and 
the period from the restoration of the Stuarts to their 
final expulsion and the formulation of the Bill of 
Rights was a period of actual conflict between a dynas- 
tic absolutism grounding itself on the traditional 
divine rights of kings, and a democratic nationalism 
grounding itself on the scientific natural rights of 
man, with a final practical victory for natural rights. 
On the continent, the victory was entirely dynastic. 
States were conceived as estates — "VEtat c'est moi'' 
was no paradox of a paranoiac king — and populations 
and territories changed hands in marriage and warfare 
conducted as the purely private and self-sufficient 
enterprises of royal privilege. Everything was prop- 
erty, including opinion. Thus, religious imperialism 
had not given way to tolerance. It merely had been 
replaced by religious nationalism. Citizenship re- 


mained an appurtenance of conformity to certain 
standard dogmas and beliefs. This, as Locke's essays 
on toleration attest, was as true in England as on the 
continent; and the winning of toleration was itself 
a political event compelled mostly by the political 
strength of the disabled religious minorities. Tolera- 
tion is in substance religious democracy. Whatever 
may be the situation de jure, it is impossible without at 
least a de facto distinction between Church and State, 
a distinction that becomes possible only when sects 
are so numerous and varied and powerful that the al- 
ternative to toleration is civil war. Over the major 
part of the continent of Europe religious nationalism 
prevailed to within the third year of the Great War, 
and citizenship and church membership were coimpli- 
cative and coincident. The greater the strength of this 
artificial coimplication, the more centralized and abso- 
lute the government which sustains it; the more com- 
plete, the more logical and systematic the theoretical 
repudiation which according to time, place, and circum- 
stances it undergoes. Such was the case in France. The 
theorizing of the Encyclopaedists, from Diderot and 
Voltaire to Montesquieu and Rousseau, carried to their 
logical limit the practical assumptions of Locke and the 
other authors of the English Bill of Rights. They made 
good in idea the shortcomings of the social facts. 

That their logic should ultimately be extended to 
the Jews was inevitable. In England this extension 
had been proceeding in the normally piecemeal and 
muddling British way. Although it was not absolutely 
completed until 1890, it was begun practically with 
their readmission to England in Cromwell's day, and 
progressed in the usual English parliamentary fashion 


from then on. In France, the extension was shorter, 
sharper, more purely theoretical. First made in formal 
terms by Montesquieu, it received practical applica- 
tion and defence at the hands of Mirabeau and the 
Abbe Gregoire. During the Revolution the two latter 
fought for it in the National Assembly against the 
clericals, and it was finally carried (1791) as an inevita- 
ble corollary of the Constitution. The effect was for- 
mally to convert the Jews from a nationality into a 
sect: "Judaism," wrote Deputy Schwendt to his con- 
stituents in Alsace, "is nothing more than the name of 
a distinct religion." The Jews were enfranchised, 
not as they had been disfranchised, in their collectivity, 
as a corporate entity, a nationality; but individually, 
Jew by Jew, each as a "natural man," the equal of 
all other "natural men," without heredity, history, 
language, culture, or social memory, a mere "now" 
in the temporal extent of the generations. The strip- 
ping of his selfhood which this requires from any man 
was of course an impossible price to pay for enfran- 
chisement. It was suicide, and a nationality can only 
die or be killed, but has so far shown no ability to 
commit suicide. Nevertheless, the Jews of western 
Europe fancied that they could pay the price and sur- 
vive as Jews. They accepted the responsibility of the 
affirmative to Napoleon's questions of 1806. Without 
this affirmative he would have withdrawn from them 
the civil freedom which the Revolution had won for 
them. Their yielding it initiated, so far as social 
history is concerned, the mental attitude and develop- 
ment of what is called the Reform movement in 

In this movement there is nothing primarily religious. 


It began with no great inspiration, no great vision 
and gospel of inner regeneration, which are the traits 
of genuinely religious reforms. Its beginnings rest 
in a political and social position, and to this day it 
has not advanced from this position. It stands still on 
the intellectual platform of the eighteenth century 
and the French Revolution, on the doctrine of natural 
rights and natural law and the rule of abstract reason. 
It strips from the Jew all that makes of him a concrete 
human being, all his reality. It denies in its very form 
the existence of the social personality called the Jewish 
people. It substitutes for the vision of the Messiah, 
which sustained the Jews in the Middle Ages, the con- 
ception of "the mission of Israel," to justify such 
minimal Jewish traits as the organizers of Reform 
could not bring themselves to abandon. It restates, 
with an inverted valuation, the mediaeval conception 
of the status and function of the Jewish people. Where, 
for example, Christianism declares that the Jews had 
been condemned by God to dispersion because of their 
rejection of the Saviour, the Reform Jews say, "The 
dispersion is a fact, but is not due to the curse of God, 
but to the realization of the divine purpose to bless 
the world." Where Christianism says, "Jews are 
dispersed and will continue so as a living witness to 
the prophecies of the Bible which proclaims their 
dispersion," the Reformers assert that this dispersion 
is predestined so that the Jewish sectaries who have 
been chosen by the Lord may be everlasting witnesses 
to the truth of the Bible and its prophecies. And 
where Christianism declares that this dispersion will 
last until the second coming of Christ, until the appear- 
ance of Christ as the Paraclete, the Reform sect de- 


clares that this dispersion is to continue until all men 
shall acknowledge the "Jewish God." In this way 
the movement has attempted automatically, under 
the rule that ideals are compensatory for facts, to 
convert into a merit what to Christian theology is 
the shame of the Jewish people. It did that, I think, 
on the whole, if I read the literature aright, with 
something like a broken heart. It wanted for the 
Jewish people the same values that other peoples in the 
world were getting. There is no question about the 
amiability of the intentions of Reform, and there is no 
question about the magnificent distinction of one phase 
of Reform achievement, not noticed by Reformers. 
This is the liberation of woman in the Jewish com- 
munity and if nothing else justifies it, this does. But 
once it has liberated the Jewish woman, it has done 
its whole work. The intention of Reform was excellent 
but the method it used, being contrary to the trend 
of social history, failed to achieve the results in- 
tended. . . . 

Other states slowlv imitated France. Western 
Europe completed the enfranchisement of the Jews, 
severally, only toward the end of the nineteenth 
century. And this enfranchisement, of course, has 
the defects of its virtues, for Western Jewry took, 
with respect to the enfranchisement it sought, a 
position which was an acknowledgment that Jewish 
qualities, Jewish forms of life and thought were in 
Jews unworthy; that Jewish differences from their 
neighbours were, on the whole, inferiorities, and that 
Jews must become — except that they call their priests 
"rabbis" and worship in "temples" and not in churches 
— the same as the Gentiles. The Reform movement, 


therefore, has been what is called an assimilationist 
movement. That is, it has wanted for Jews not an 
equal but a similar happiness to that of all other peoples. 
And what it has accomplished in order to get this 
life and happiness has been to rob the enfranchised 
Jew of the self-respect of Ins birthright as Jew; has 
been to compel nim to act on the assumption that the 
whole substance of the Jewish background and tradi- 
tion, the organization of Jewish life with its implications, 
is a worthless thing, a thing to be abandoned. 

This whole process rests on the illusion that equality 
is similarity. It is concomitant with the uncritical 
doctrine of natural right and natural law; with the 
resentment which this doctrine expressed against the 
artificial inequalities of the dynastic and ecclesiastical 
systems that robbed men of their due of freedom and 
happiness. The doctrine is compensatory; a protest, 
not a description. But in animating and guiding the 
French Revolution it served a high purpose. It 
enfranchised the peoples of Europe, even in the course 
of the Napoleonic attempt to enslave them. It 
awakened their dormant corporate consciousness. It 
led them to realize their nationality and to struggle 
for its freedom. To say this is to say that people 
"were becoming conscious, in trying to respond to the 
call of the Revolution, of what nature and habit and 
hope they and their neighbours were, and of how these 
were expressed in language and tradition, in memory 
and custom, in all that makes a community's cycle 
of life. The revolutionary call to Equality meant, 
for the daily life, the abolition of all caste and property 
distinctions. . . . The Revolution's call to Fra- 
ternity meant for the daily life comradeship on an 


equal basis with any one with whom communication 
could be effectively held — in truth, with the neighbour 
near at hand, who speaks the same language and has 
the same background, who, by virtue of this sameness, 
understands. The Revolution's call to Liberty meant, 
first and foremost, the overthrow of the traditional 
oppressor at home and the achievement there of self- 
government, the replacing of dynasty by commonwealth. 

"Had the new French nation continued to treat 
the peoples its armies set free as peers, as fellow- 
citizens, not as subjects; had Napoleon not once more 
restored piratical imperialism to the place from which 
the ideas of the Revolution had driven it, the ruling 
caste of Europe could never have succeeded in duping 
their subjects into believing in the identity of their 
respective interests and the community of their cause. 
Even so, their success depended on a concession to the 
principle that sovereignty rests in the people. For the 
call to resist Napoleon had to be made through an 
appeal to self-appreciation, through a propaganda, 
sometimes inspired, sometimes spontaneous, exhorting 
the various peoples of Europe to consider the ex- 
cellence and dignity of their ancestries, their cults, 
their traditions, their histories, their ways of living, 
their arts, and particularly their languages. The most 
conspicuous continental instance of such a propaganda 
is the series of * Addresses to the German People,' by 
the philosopher Fichte." 

But there were many others. It is part of the irony 
of the Jewish position that those Jews who were in 
contact with the great movements of the day, scions 
of the one people that had from antiquity on been 
champions of nationality against all imperialism and 


tyranny, should seek themselves to repress and destroy 
their own at a time when nationality was awakening 
to renewed life among the peoples of the whole con- 
tinent of Europe — in Greece and among the other 
victims of Turkish domination; in Germany; in Poland; 
in Ireland. That the restoration of Palestine to the 
Jewish people and the Jewish people to Palestine 
had even in this period touched the interests and hopes 
of Jews and Gentiles both, there is much in the record 
to show. An anonymous letter to the Jews of France 
by "one of them," proposed in 1798 the creation by 
the Jews of the world of a Jewish council which should 
treat with the French government for the restoration 
of Palestine to its traditional people. "The country 
we propose to occupy," he wrote, "shall include (sub- 
ject to such arrangements as shall be agreeable to 
France) Lower Egypt, with the addition of a district, 
which shall have for its limits a line running from 
Acre to the Dead Sea, and from the south point of 
that lake to the Red Sea." 1 He pointed out the 
economic advantages of the position, situated at the 
juncture of three continents, and concluded: "Oh, my 
brethren! What sacrifices ought we not to make to 
attain this object! We shall return to our country, we 
shall live under our own laws, we shall behold those 
sacred places which our ancestors rendered illustrious 
with their courage and their virtues. I already see 
you all animated with a holy zeal. Israelites! The 
term of your misfortunes is at hand. The opportunity 
is favourable. Take care that you do not allow it to 
escape." Just how the opportunity was favourable 
is not known, but it is significant that the Moniteur 

^ited by A. M. Hyamson, in "Palestine," p. 165. 


Universelle of 1799, 23 Germinal, records a proclamation 
ordered in Constantinople by Napoleon, inviting the 
Jews of Asia and Africa to enrol under his banners 
for the purpose of reestablishing ancient Jerusalem. 
The failure of both the Western and Eastern Jewries 
to respond to these calls had probably no slight con- 
nection with the Napoleonic impatience and severity 
in 1806, when the Emperor practically compelled 
by his questions the Jews of his domains either to re- 
pudiate their nationality or to put themselves in a 
position to affirm it by force. The Council of Notables 
or Sanhedrin which he called repudiated it: the bulk 
of them came not from the free heart of France but 
from clericalist and priest-ridden Alsace. The writer 
of the letter of 1798 came from a freer-hearted and 
clearer-visioned time in the history of France. 

Significantly, the one great parallel of this period 
issues a generation later from the world's other great 
seat of freedom and republicanism, where the con- 
ception of "natural rights" dominated — the United 
States of America. It is there overlaid a little with 
elements of mountebankery and melodrama, and 
takes some time to come clear. But clear it does come 
finally, and its terms are remarkably similar to those 
of the letter of 1798. Its terms are promulgated by 
Mordecai Manuel Noah. Its first shape in his mind 
was that of a Messianic adventure tempered by the 
business of real estate speculation. Sensitive to the 
sufferings and disabilities of his people, he conceived 
the notion of founding for them on Grand Island, not 
far from Buffalo, New York, a city of refuge, which he 
designed to call Ararat, and to establish himself as Chief 
Judge of Israel. He persuaded a Gentile friend to 


invest in the land, and in September, 1825, proceeded 
amid much comic circumstance and public comment 
to lay the corner-stone of his city in an Episcopal 
church in the village of Buffalo. On the occasion 
he issued a proclamation, appointing commissioners, 
levying taxes, ordering a census and so on, and re- 
viving and reestablishing the ancient 'Government 
of the Jewish Nation, under the auspices and pro- 
tection of the constitution and laws of the United 
States of America." 1 The enterprise was, of course, 
damned from the outset by its charlatanic character. 
At its core, nevertheless, were good sense and sound 
statesmanship. The idea persisted in Noah's mind, 
but it turned from a city of refuge on the North Ameri- 
can continent to a complete restoration in Zion. To 
this he reverted repeatedly, always with the notion 
that the United States might act as the liberator. 
"The United States," he wrote in 1844, "the only 
country which has given civil and religious rights to 
the Jews equal with all other sects; the only country 
which has not persecuted them has been selected 
and pointedly distinguished in prophecy as the nation 
which, at a proper time, shall present to the Lord His 
chosen and downtrodden people, and pave the way 
for the restoration to Zion." This could be done simply 
by the guarantee of protection in the purchase and 
holding of land in Palestine. The idea met with the 
approval of John Adams, President of the United 
States, 1797-1801. "I really wish," he wrote Noah, 
"the Jews again in Judaea, an independent nation, 
for, as I believe, the most enlightened men of it have 
participated in the amelioration of the philosophy 

»Cf. "Mordecai M. Noah," by A. B. Makover. 


of the age; once restored to an independent govern- 
ment, and no longer persecuted, they would wear 
away some of their asperities. 

"I wish your nation may be admitted to all the privi- 
leges of citizens in every part of the world. This 
country (America) has done much: I wish it may do 
more, and annul every narrow idea in religion, govern- 
ment, and commerce." 



THE first families of Europe and their stewards, 
usually called prime ministers and secretaries of state, 
who sought to reapportion this continental domain 
of theirs according to their vested rights as those had 
been understood prior to the French Revolution, 
counted without the Revolution. The Congress of 
Vienna lasted, with interruptions, some five years. 
Its final act was not signed until May, 1820, and by that 
time every position and attitude it had taken in the 
adjustments of the family squabbles and dower dis- 
putes of kings had been challenged by the rising dis- 
content of peoples. This turned all royal benevolence 
into defensive tyranny, as in the instance of the noto- 
rious Holy Alliance, and royalty has remained on the 
defensive ever since. The Revolutionary gospel of 
liberty, equality, and fraternity had awakened peoples 
— at least to liberty. Even in the Napoleonic tyranny 
there had been an element of overturn and equalization. 
Napoleon himself was a symbol of what opportunity 
freedom might create for a man, and his Empire a 
dominion of careers open to and won by talents. A 
complete reversion to the old feudal caste system 
of Europe was impossible. The mind and mood of 
Europe had turned from it. But equally impossible 



was the attainment of that abstract equality and 
fraternity of the 'natural man," the "human being' 1 
that had been the inspiring vision of the Revolution. 
Both the Revolution itself and the urgent need of 
dynasts, appealing at last to their subjects to save their 
thrones, gave it an immediate concrete and specific 
application in that neighbourliness of common speech, 
common customs, traditions and memories which are 
the very heart of nationality. 

These supplied to the abstractions of the Revolution 
both body and force; These are the explosive elements 
in democracy, and it is these primarily that throughout 
the nineteenth century made of the democratic aspira- 
tion an efficacious dynamic in the lives of men. The 
nineteenth century has been called the century of 
nationality and, indeed, it was; but it was no less the 
century of democracy, and the two cannot be separated. 
One after another the European and Christian subjects 
of the Turk, the Magyar and the Slavonic and the 
Italian subjects of the Germans, the Polish subjects 
of the Russians, the Irish subjects of the English, rose 
against their masters, some to failure only and some 
to freedom. One after another peoples arose against 
governments in France, in Germany, in Austria, in 
England, in Spain, in Portugal. In all these uprisings, 
they won, in spite of setbacks, to constantly freer 
position — sometimes by force, as in France, sometimes 
by somewhat more legislative action as in England; 
but they won. The winning marks the rising wave 
of nationality in Europe, its first phase culminating in 
1830 with the revolutions in France and Poland, the 
liberation of Greece, the integration of Switzerland; 
its second phase in 1848, with uprisings all over Europe, 


and its third phase in 1878 with the Council of Vienna. 
Its fourth phase culminated in the Great War. This 
very probably marks the end of the era of nationality 
as a programme and an ideal. The terms of peace 
have converted it, in words at least, from a motive 
into a condition, have established it as an acknowledged 
fact under the protection of international law, and have 
thus permitted the emergence into the foreground 
of history of the second great social motive which 
was a spring of action in the nineteenth century — 
the motive of economic justice. That has already 
sprung clear in Russia and has defined itself sharply 
in the mass movements of England and Germany and 
Italy and France. We shall see how it challenges all gov- 
ernment anew and ineluctably as nationality challenged 
government after 1815. The future belongs to it. 

The past, however, has been governed by the aspira- 
tions of nationality. The utterance and philosophy 
of these reached their height in the second quarter of 
the nineteenth century, and its noblest and truest 
voice was Giuseppe Mazzini. His outlook is simple, 
a complement rather than a contradiction of the outlook 
of the eighteenth-century thinkers whose ideas gave 
birth to the French Revolution. He criticizes them, 
Voltaire and Montesquieu and Rousseau particularly, 
for their political and historical formalism. "It is 
not by the force of conventions or of aught else," he 
writes, 1 "but by a necessity of our nature that societies 
are founded and grow." Hence nationality and the 
aspirations of nationality. Hence its implication in 
democracy and democracy's implication in it. Hence 
the need for collective action. "Nations are initiated 


^'Thoughts on the French Revolution of 1789." 


into the worship of liberty by the sufferings of servi- 
tude." Individuals cannot by themselves win liberty, 
they can only die for it: "individual faith makes 
martyrs; social faith gains victories . . . The char- 
ter of each Nation's liberty is a clause in the charter 
of Humanity." These excerpts are from "Faith and 
the Future," written in French at Bienne in 1835, as a 
reply to Louis Philippe's treachery against democracy. 
The essay states the whole Mazzinian philosophy of 
democratic nationalism. What he thought of the 
Jewish position, its hopelessness and degradation, 
may be gathered from the reference to them — I have 
italicized it — in the fifth of the lectures to the Italian 
workers on the Duties of Man — The Duty to Country. 1 
"Without Country," he declares, "you have neither 
name, token, voice, nor rights, no admission as brothers 
into the fellowship of the Peoples. You are the 
bastards of Humanity. Soldiers without a banner, 
Israelites among the nations, you will find neither faith 
nor protection; none will be sureties for you. Do not 
beguile yourselves with the hope of emancipation from 
unjust social conditions if you do not first conquer 
a Country for yourselves; where there is no Country 
there is no common agreement to which you can appeal; 
the egoism of self-interest rules alone, and he who has 
the upper hand keeps it, since there is no common 
safeguard for the interests of all. Do not be led away 
by the idea of improving your material conditions 
without first solving the National question. You 
cannot do it. . . ." All his other writings are 
either anticipations or echoes of this passionate na- 
tionalist philosophy. Its conception of society is in- 

1 Everyman's Edition, pp. 53-54. 


dependent of its metaphysical or theological doctrines. 
The former might go with any of the latter and, in 
point of fact, did. The unity of mankind is for Maz- 
zini organic; nations are organs of humanity. 

"We believe," he declares, speaking for Republican- 
ism, "in the Holy Alliance of the Peoples as the broadest 
formula of association possible in our age — in the 
liberty and equality of the peoples without which as- 
sociation has no true life — in Nationality, which is the 
conscience of the peoples, which assigns to them their 
share of work in association, their office in Humanity, 
and hence constitutes their mission on earth, their 
individuality, for without Nationality neither liberty 
nor equality is possible — and we believe in the holy 
Fatherland, that is, the cradle of nationality, the altar 
and patrimony of the individuals that compose each 

This creed has remained, though crossed by newer 
and later visions and aspirations, the creed of the 
peoples of Europe. It is the living spirit in the poetry 
of Swinburne and the political philosophy of Hegel. 
It is the centre from which departs the new economic 
internationalism of the Socialists and the cultural 
and financial imperialism of the pan-German and pan- 
Slavist and other panic organizations that precipitated 
the Great War. Its application to the Jews, whose 
creed and aspiration it has been from the beginning 
of their history, of the outlook of whose prophets it is 
a restatement, is obvious enough. And, indeed, the 
application was made in Mazzini's day as a matter 
of course. Not merely in the remote speculations 
of the aged Mordecai Noah in the America of the '40s. 
It was given the nearness of political practicality and 


religious action in both England and France, and 
among Gentiles more largely and generously than 
among Jews. To Hollingsworth, writing in 1852 
in England 1 , the establishment of a Jewish state 
in Palestine was not only an act of humanity and 
justice, but a political necessity, present in the British 
mind to this very day, in the safeguarding of the high- 
way across Asia Minor to India. 2 To Laurence Oli- 
phant, who himself settled with a colony near Haifa, 
the restoration to the Promised Land was, as it still 
is to so many pious and devout Christians, the indis- 
pensable preliminary to the return of the Saviour. 
The idea energized the mind of Abraham Petavel, 
a Protestant minister and professor in Neuchatel. 
His pamphlet, 3 published in 1864 in Geneva, utters 
much the same piety and humanism that are apparent 
in Laurence Oliphant, with somewhat greater regard 
for the political "realities' 1 of the time. National 
justice to the Jewish people was one of the ruling 
passions of Henri Dunant, founder of the Red Cross 
and author of the Geneva Conventions. He urged 
the French Alliance Israelite Universelle to settle 
the Jews in Palestine; appealed to the Jews of Berlin, 
to the Anglo- Jewish Association. Failing of sympathetic 
response from them, he organized the International 
Palestine Society and the Syrian and Palestine Coloniza- 
tion Society. But the Jews of western Europe were 
still too preoccupied with piecemeal and individualistic 
emancipation, with the dominant abstractions of the 

x " Remarks upon the Present Condition of the Jews in Palestine." 

2 Its immediate stimulus was the agitation about the Suez Canal. This 
great project had stirred Frenchmen to the same ideas. Cf. Denbie's "New 
Oriental Problem," and "The New Eastern Question" by E. Laharame. 

3 Devoir des nations de rendre au peuple juif sa nationality. 


eighteenth century, and the Gentiles were too absorbed 
in their own problems to concern themselves with the 
problem of the Jews in a purely objective, sociological, 
and historical as well as a sentimental way. The 
sentiment was to be noticed all over Europe. It gave 
tone to much of the literary avocation of Beaconsfield ; 
it was a note in a play of Dumas fils 1 ; it became a 
great preoccupation of George Eliot. The restoration 
of the Jewish people to the Promised Land is a theme 
she returns to again and again — in "TheophrastusSuch," 
in "The Modern Hep, Hep," in "Daniel Deronda." The 
latter, indeed, may be said to make this restoration 
its subject-matter. And to the present day there is, 
to my mind, no more eloquent statement of the senti- 
ment which energizes Zionism than she puts in the 
mouth of Mordecai: 

When it is rational to say: "I know not my father or my 
mother; let my children be aliens unto me, that no prayer 
of mine may touch them," then will it be rational for the 
Jew to say, "I will seek to know no difference between me 
and the Gentile; I will not cherish the prophetic conscious- 
ness of our nationality. Let the Hebrew cease to be, and 
let all his memorials be antiquarian trifles, dead as the wall- 
paintings of a conjectured race. Yet let his children learn 
by rote the speech of the Greek, where he adjures his fellow- 
citizens by the bravery of those who fought foremost at 
Marathon; let him learn to say, 'That was noble in Greek, 
that is the spirit of an immortal nation!' But the Jew has 
no memories that bind him to action; let him laugh that his 
nation is degraded from a nation; let him hold the monuments 
of his law which carried within its frame the breath of social 
justice, of charity, and of household sanctities; let him hold 
the energy of the prophets, the patient care of the masters, 

x La femme de Claude. 


the fortitude of martyred generations, as mere stuff for 
a professorship. . . •" 

In the multitude of the ignorant on three continents who 
observe our rites and make the confession of Divine Unity, 
the soul of Judaism is not dead. Revive the organic centre: 
let the unity of Israel which has made the growth and form 
of its religion be an outward reality. Looking forward to a 
land and a polity, our dispersed people in all the ends of the 
earth may share the dignity of a national life which has a 
voice among the peoples of the East and of the West — 
which will plant the wisdom and skill of our race so that it 
may be, as of old, a medium of transmission and understand- 
ing. Let that come to pass, and the living warmth will spread 
to the weak extremities of Israel and superstition will vanish, 
not in the lawlessness of the renegade, but in the illumination 
of great facts which widen feeling, and make all knowledge 
alive as the young offspring of beloved memories. . . . 

There is a store of wisdom among us to found a new Jewish 
polity, grand, simple, just, like the old — a republic where 
there is equality of protection. . . . Then our race 
shall have an organic centre, a heart and a brain to watch 
and guide and execute; the outraged Jew shall have a de- 
fence in the court of the nations, as the outraged Englishman 
or American. And the world will gain as Israel gains. For 
there will be a community in the van of the East which 
carries the culture and the sympathies of every great nation 
in its bosom; and there will be a land for a halting-place 
of enmities, a neutral ground for the East as Belgium 
is for the West. Difficulties? I know there are difficulties. 
But let the spirit of sublime achievement move in the great 
among our people and the work will begin. . . . 

Let the torch of visible community be lit! Let the reason 
of Israel disclose itself in a great outward deed; let there be 
another great migration, another choosing of Israel to be 
a nationality, whose members may still stretch to the ends 
of the earth, even as the sons of England and Germany, 
whom enterprise carries afar, but who still have a national 
hearth and a tribunal of national opinion. . . . Let 
the central fire be kindled again, and the light will reach afar. 


The degraded and scorned of our race will learn to think 
of their sacred land, not as a place for sacred beggary, 
to await death in loathsome idleness, but as a republic 
where the Jewish spirit manifests itself in a new order founded 
on the old, purified, enriched by experience our greatest 
sons have gathered from the life of the ages. . . . The 
sons of Judah have to choose, that God may again choose 
them. The Messianic time is the time when Israel shall 
will the planting of the national ensign. . . . Let us 
help to will our own better future and the better future of 
the world — not renounce our higher gift, and say, "Let 
us be as if we were not among the populations," but choose 
our full heritage, claim the brotherhood of our nation, and 
carry it into a new brotherhood with the nations of the 
Gentiles. The vision is there: it will be fulfilled. 

Nor were the Jews of western Europe themselves 
altogether untouched by this resurgent nationalism. 
By and large their first reaction to the emancipatory 
call of the French Revolution had been, as we have 
seen, one of surrender and self-effacement. Suffering 
for a thousand years from the over-emphasis of their 
difference from the other families of mankind, they 
accepted eagerly the escape from suffering which the 
eighteenth-century declaration of the sameness of 
all men opened to them. They launched themselves 
upon a piteous obliteration of their corporate entity, 
upon the comminution of their nationality into its 
individuals and the dilution of their social personality 
into the undistinguished and neutral association of the 
reformed congregations. They threw themselves with 
passion into the republican emancipatory movements 
of their fellow-subjects of other stocks. They de- 
clared themselves Frenchmen or Germans or English- 
men of the Mosaic persuasion, and as such they laboured 


with not untraditional fervour in the enfranchisement 
of their fellow-subjects. Members of the race are 
particularly conspicuous in the Polish and Hungarian 
rebellions, in the republican uprising in Germany of 
'48. Even more conspicuous were they in the new 
internationalism, an internationalism running across 
and in many respects denying the cosmopolitanism 
of the eighteenth century and the ideas of the French 

This internationalism is a conclusion from the phi-* 
losophy of Socialism. Its strongest authoritative voice 
was that of the Jew, Karl Marx; its most heroic 
practical defender the Jew, Ferdinand Lasalle; its 
unseen root the economic doctrine of the Jew, David 

The whole of this internationalism is an inflation 
of a new social condition into law, the identification 
of a changing social fact with an unchanging social 
principle. The new social condition was the use of 
machinery in industry. The changing social fact 
was the realignment of the classes of men in accordance 
with the operation of the automatic machine, the adap- 
tation of society to machinery. Machinery was both 
"labour-saving" and "over-productive." Machinery 
both multiplied the division of labour and created the 
unemployment and the competition of labour. It 
changed the labourer from a semi-independent, self- 
supporting householder to a factory accessory, from 
a man into a "hand," to be bought in the open market 
as other things are bought, according to the "law' : 
of supply and demand. Society seemed destined 
merely to produce commodities for foreign markets, 
and the miseries of men, declared the pundits of the 


"dismal science," as political economy was at once 
called, were the indispensable condition of the progress 
of society. The creation and encouragement of capital 
came to be considered the exclusive aim of the state, 
and men and women and children simply the tools and 
servants of capital, whether as labourers sacrificed, or 
employing high priests sacrificing. 

Thus the eighteenth -century idea of the "natural 
man ,: was confronted by the nineteenth-century idea 
of the "economic man." The sameness of men accord- 
ing to nature was opposed by the sameness of men 
according to machinery, and in the minds of the more 
reflective men of the age the latter sameness became 
the obsessing one. Men were classified from the 
Ricardan standpoint with respect to their relation 
to the great god Capital, their natures and realities 
were held to be determined by whether they owned it, 
or whether they created it. Between owners and 
creators, capitalists and labourers, an eternal conflict 
had necessarily to be waged, under the 'iron law of 
wages," by which the rich were constantly growing 
richer and the poor poorer. If only the poor, the 
workers, would become conscious of this conflict, 
if they would recognize their community of interest 
and cease competing with each other, they could then 
wage successful warfare against their enemies, whose 
enmity was predetermined by the nature of things: 
'Workingmen of all the world, unite! You have 
nothing to lose but your chains." 

Such is the burden of the gospel according to Karl 
Marx, the gospel which has been made the established 
religion of the Russian nation and is becoming such, 
in ever-growing proportions, of the whole population 


of Europe. Its progress was, as is natural, slow and 
piecemeal. Its exemplification in the trades unions 
has been more real and effective than its exemplifica- 
tion in the political party. Like all gospels, it is a 
compensatory correction of a condition, not the descrip- 
tion of a fact. But it set a pace for Europe. It had 
the courage of its conclusions, and its protagonists 
made of them a programme which they have tried 
with all their might and constantly increasing suc- 
cess to carry out. They created the famous "Inter- 
nationale." They set themselves against the tradi- 
tional processes and institutions of European society. 
They repudiated kings and priests and war as well as 
capitalism. They failed, of course, but it is not their 
fault that the habits and passions and interests of 
men cannot keep pace with their intellects. Their 
real fault is that, being gospellers, they ignored or 
denied the realities of human nature which did not 
fit into their system of salvation, so retarding their own 
progress in realization and converting into opponents 
forces that might have been aids. Economic interna- 
tionalism, in short, could no more discount nationality 
than political cosmopolitanism. And this impossibility 
is conspicuous with no people so much, perhaps, as 
with the Jews. 

For the greater men of the race, those who, in John 
Adams's quaint terms, contributed to "the ameliora- 
tion of the philosophy of the age," either shut their 
eyes to the Jewish question or, facing it squarely, 
adopted the nationalist attitude. Marx and Lasalle 
shut their eyes; Beaconsfield was a nationalist with 
immense racial pride. So was the French patriot, 
Joseph Salvador, son of a Jewish father and a Catholic 


mother; physician, protagonist of the "higher criti- 
cism" of the Bible; close student of the constitutional 
development of the ancient Jewish state; hated of the 
clerical party, one of the foremost influences in bringing 
about the revolution of 1830. He (circa 1837) called 
for the assembling of a European congress for the 
purpose of restoring the Jewish people to their promised 
land. So was Lazar Levy-Bing, prosperous banker 
of Nancy, large participator in the affairs of the French 
commonwealth. His Zionism had a religious colour, 
derived from Petavel, whose work had opened his 
eyes to the Jewish problem. He saw in the restoration 
he so passionately advocated a religious as well as a 
political event, and in the restored Jerusalem the ful- 
filment of the prophecy that the law should go forth 
from Zion and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem. 

Even Jews of purely philanthropic intention, to 
whom piecemeal emancipation was the sole way out 
of the difficulties of the Jewish position, could not elude 
the spirit and outlook of the age, or avoid the impregna- 
tion of the Mazzinian philosophy. Thus the Alliance 
Israelite Universelle is the creation of the philanthropic 
impulse of emancipated Jews. It is a charitable 
organization, evoked in 1860 by a great need, rendered 
vivid in the misery and persecution for religious reasons 
suffered by the Jews of Damascus in 1840, and again, 
and more terribly, in 1860. Among its founders is 
the notable Adolphe Cremieux, ten years later a min- 
ister of justice in the French Cabinet, and in all essen- 
tials an "assimilated" and "emancipated' man. Yet 
the statement which explained the organization he 
helped to found is near to the practical essence of the 
nationalist political philosophy of the time. 'All 


other important faiths," it declared, "are represented 
in the world by nations; that is to say, they are incar- 
nated in governments especially interested in them and 
officially authorized to represent them and speak for 
them only. Our faith alone is without this important 
advantage; it is represented neither by a state nor by a 
society, nor does it occupy a clearly defined territory." 
And that the hope and desire to create this " important 
advantage" was in the minds of the founders of the 
Alliance may be gathered from the report of Charles 
Netter, among them the passionate devotee in the 
creation of this society, on the Agricultural School 
which it had established near Jaffa. The report tells 
the central committee which it addresses of the refuge 
from persecution it is preparing. It speaks of the 
"peaceful winning of this Holy Land." It assures the 
committee that the land can and will be thus won. 
Since Netter's day the Alliance has had many a change 
of mood, swayed by every fashion of feeling and opin- 
ion that infected France and threatened the position of 
the timorous Frenchmen (like Salomon Reinach, a con- 
temporary director) "of the Mosaic persuasion." Yet 
the whole influence of the work of the Alliance, in 
spite of the wishes of the directors, is witness to the 
correctness of Netter's prediction. . . . 

However, the distinguished example of the incapacity 
of abstract cosmopolitanism and internationalism to 
withstand the realities of human association on the 
continent of Europe is Moses Hess. Born in Germany, 
in 1812, his childhood and youth were passed in the 
turmoil of conflicting systems, ideas, and organiza- 
tions of which Germany was the theatre between 
that year and the fateful '48. Son of a profoundly 


orthodox father, his education stripped his orthodoxy 
from him like an outworn garment and alienated him 
from his family. A brief conciliation was followed by a 
marriage with a Gentile girl of questionable reputation 
and rendered the alienation permanent. He was early 
impregnated with the dominant Hegelianism of the 
period. But it was the Hegelianism of the left, and 
it led him first of all to a sharp and lasting opposition 
to the Hegelianism of the right, that Hegelianism 
which accepted the Prussian state as the goal and 
ultimacy of social life, and its dominion as the rule of 
spirit. This opposition endured until his death. For 
his participation in the revolution of 1848 Prussia 
proscribed and pursued him until he found refuge 
in Prance. When, in 1870, France expelled him as an 
alien enemy, he replied with his book, "The Defeated 
Nation." This book was a call to all Europe to arm 
against a Germany dominated by Prussia. 

The affirmations of his Hegelianism were primarily 
and basically socialistic. By temperament and apti- 
tude a libertarian and activist, he was naturally the 
antithesis of Marx, and the opposition more than 
once found literary expression. Nevertheless, the 
two men collaborated in the enterprise of proletarian 
organization. Hess gave himself from 1845 onward to 
the propaganda of the Communist programme, so much 
so that Arnold Ruge satirized him as the "Communist 
Rabbi Moses." He contributed to Marx's Jahrbiicher. 
He risked his life by returning to Germany to or- 
ganize workmen with Lasalle. In the intervals he 
studied biology and ethnology. The effect of his 
studies was the concretion of the abstraction Humanity 
to whose service he had dedicated himself, of the ab- 


straction Labour for whose liberation lie was risking' 
his life, into societies of men and women with character, 
customs, habits, speech and culture, history and tradi- 
tions attached to places, times, and circumstances. He 
discovered, in a word, nationality. His conceptions \ 
became very similar to those of Mazzini, with the 
difference in philosophical background and assumptions 
that the training and practical preoccupations of the 
two men made. The amplification and vitalization 
of view which Hess's discovery of nationality effected, 
he registered, 1862, in " Rome and Jerusalem, the Latest 
National Question." 

This book is a series of twelve letters, addressed to a 
doubting friend. It utters Hess's whole theory of life, 
with special emphasis on its bearing upon the fate of 
the Jewish people. Life and the world are, in his 
view, an organic and living whole of which the con- 
tinuous, infinite multitudes of change and mutation 
in Nature and in history are manifestations and ex- 
pressions. They are, in the words of Bergson, to 
whom Hess bears a somewhat striking resemblance, 
a single undivided elan vital, differentiating itself 
as life and the universe. This elan is particularly 
lucid in human life, and history is its clearest self- 
utterance. In the development of this history each 
race has its own function or mission equally with all 
others. That of the Jews is the realization of the laws 
oF^social justice in organized society. Properly to 
discharge this function the Jewish people must be 
restored to free community, to national independence 
in Palestine. Nothing else can restore them, economic- 
ally, socially, spiritually, to normal. Throughout 
the western world they are an uprooted and disin- 


herited people, in its economic life, middlemen or trad- 
ers rather than producers; in its social and civil life, 
outcasts and pariahs, in the life of the spirit chameleons, 
imitators, because repudiators of their own living 
tradition, unhappily fossilizing in the eastern world. 
The return to the Promised Land would give them 
roots, enable them to become once more the producers 
and creators they should be, and assure the discharge of 
their proper functions in the family of nations. The 
technique of restoration he regards as very simple — a 
Jewish Colonization Association devoting itself with 
French protection to the resettling of Jews in Palestine, 
under the sanction of a Jewish Congress supported 
by the powers. 

Hess wrote in the Epilogue to "Rome and Jerusalem": 

The more perfect a people is in its own special function, 
the more it appreciates the functional individuality of other 
peoples, and the more willingly it borrows from them the ideas, 
conceptions, and inventions, which are necessary to modern 
life. This tendency is especially noticeable in the German 
people, and it certainly does honour to the German spirit. 

The Jewish nation, therefore, must not hesitate to follow 
France in all matters relating to the political and social 
regeneration of the nations, and especially in what concerns 
its own rebirth as a nation, and Germany in everything 
which bears upon the revival of intellectual life. Only a 
stupid reaction, which is consciously or unconsciously carried 
away by its own alarms, can bear us malice when we sym- 
pathize with France in all matters of a social, political 
nature, and yet try to absorb and assimilate everything 
good in German spiritual and intellectual life. 

The cause of national regeneration of oppressed peoples 
can expect no help and sympathy from Germany. The 
problem of such regeneration, dating not from the second 
restoration of the monarchy in France, but from the French 


Revolution, began to find its definite solution in Europe 
only recently, with the outbreak of the Italian War. Germany 
met it with mockery and derision: in spite of the fact that 
it is urgent, that it is almost everywhere, even in Germany, 
foremost, the Germans have labelled it, "the nationality 
trick." And our Jewish democrats, also, exhibit their 
German patriotism by accusing the French and the peoples 
sympathizing with them of designs of conquest. The 
French, say the German politicians, as well as the Allies 
will only be exploited by the second monarchy, in order to 
restrain liberty rather than to promote it. The German 
people should, according to the profound logic of these 
politicians, obey the Kaiser and the kings in order to be 
able to frustrate the aggressive desires of the French. But 
these politicians and patriots forget that the conquest of 
France and Italy by Germany to-day would result merely 
in placing the entire German people under police law and in 
depriving the Jews of their civil rights in a worse manner 
than after the War of Liberation — when the only recognition 
granted by the Germans to their Jewish comrades in arms 
was exclusion from civil life. And truly, the German people 
and the German Jews do not deserve any better lot when 
they allow themselves, in spite of the examples of history, 
to be entrapped by mediaeval reaction. 

The study of science and my experiences in life have both 
served to confirm my political sympathy for France, par- 
ticularly after I got to know the French people. I have 
formulated my thoughts as follows: 

The life tendencies of a society are, like the theories of 
life of the minds of men, typical and primal creations of 
race. Originally, the history of mankind moved only in the 
circle of struggle — struggles of race, struggles of class. The 
race struggle is primary; that of class, secondary. The last 
dominating race is the German. But, thanks to the French 
people — who succeeded not only in reconciling race antago- 
nisms in their own land, but also in uprooting every form of 
race domination within its borders — the race struggle is 
nearing its end. And with that the class struggle will also 
end. The equalization of all classes of society will neces- 


sarily follow the emancipation of the races, for equalization 
will become simply a scientific problem in social economics. 
Yet it seems as if a final race war is unavoidable if the 
German politicians, failing to apprehend the situation, make 
no endeavour to oppose the mighty sweep of reaction. This, 
left to itself, will ultimately carry Germany into collision 
with the Latin peoples and entangle the progressive German 
democrats in the net of romantic demagoguery. Twice 
during the present century did medievalism frustrate 
the effort of the German people for political and social 
regeneration — once during the War of Liberation and again 
during the Italian War. It did so by appealing to the racial 
instincts of the lords of war who regard themselves as lords 
of the land by divine right and the people as their rightly 
inherited slaves. It is not impossible, in case of a war be- 
tween Italy and Austria, that German democracy will for 
the third time be engulfed in the whirlpool of the reaction- 
aries and join hands with the Austrians in a struggle for 
race domination the outcome of which must adversely 
affect progress. But out of the last race struggle . . . 
there will ensue no fresh dominant race and the equality 
of the historical peoples of the world will follow as a neces- 
sary result. 

Hess's metaphysics, it will be seen, has its alter- 
natives — what metaphysic has not? — but his sociolog- 
ical acumen and his historical judgment are almost 
contemporary. Both the quotation from the Epilogue 
to "Rome and Jerusalem" and the storm which his work 
raised in German Jewry are witness. The storm was 
only a passing storm. It led the historian Graetz 
to remark upon it — upon the anger of the anti-Semites, 
the fears of the Jewish cosmopolitans, the hopes of 
the orthodox. But Graetz drew no conclusions. He 
was too timid. The great bulk of the Jews of western 
Europe, particularly those of Germany, were too timid. 
Hess called them to self-assertion and self-help. Their 


reply was — self-concealment and impotence. They 
were afraid collectively to conquer freedom as a people's 
victory; they were not afraid to have emancipation 
ungraciously thrown to them as a master's gene- 




THAT Eastern Jewry should, all things considered, 
provide its fair counterpart of Western Jewry was, of 
course, natural. It did reproduce, line for line, the 
disturbances and perturbations which shook the 
Jews of western Europe. It reproduced them, but 
with a difference. In this difference lies, however, 
the secret of the vitality of Zionism and the continuity 
and vigour of its vision and aspiration in the hearts 
of the great bulk of the Jewish nationality, whose home 
is in central and eastern Europe. Its history, from 
the failure of the Sabbattian adventure on, leaves 
nothing to be desired for tragic irony. The govern- 
ment of Poland itself was disintegrating. Kings, 
powerless before the unspeakable Shlakhta, whose 
arrogance, sloth, and selfishness ruined Poland, per- 
force turned the kingship into an engine of intrigue. 
The royal protection written into the terms of the 
Jewish charter became a scrap of paper. The Jews 
themselves were compelled to become the victims and 
the instruments of the irresponsibilities of the landed 
magnates, whose absolutism on their lands was ex- 
ceeded only by their misrule. In addition to the ex- 
ploitation and abuse of these magnates, the Jews had 
to suffer the aggression of the urban German burgher 



class, always pressing to eliminate the Jewish rival, 
and the persecution of the Churchman, whose religious 
zeal had a superlatively powerful dynamic in economic 

The conflicting impositions, demands, and restrictions 
of these three classes broke up the integrity of the 
Jewish community. Their pressure squeezed the vital- 
ity out of the Congressus Judaicus, destroyed its au- 
thority, and denuded it of its representative character. 
It converted the Kahal from a town meeting into a 
tyrannical corporation of oligarchs. It cut off the 
contact of the Jews both as individuals and as nation- 
ality from the rest of the world. 

At just the time when the bans and taboos of me- 
dievalism were broken in Europe and the spirit of 
man could adventure free through thoughts and things, 
persecution and disaster imposed them upon Jewry. 
The thought and feeling of the great Jewish community 
turned inward and fed upon itself. The spirit so 
nourished is a queer and twisted thing of dialectic, 
passion, and devoutness, as irrelevant to the realities 
of the business of living as anything mediaeval Chris- 
tianity so devised. It converted changing social 
customs into everlasting rituals, accidents of fashion 
in garments and hairdressing into religious vestment, 
accidents of diet into sacraments. It imagined a gross, 
material Otherworld that echoed to the last nuance 
the literalness of mediaeval Christianism of which it had 
until then been free. It found in the wonder-working 
rabbi of the Chassidic sect the precise analogue of 
the Christian mystic, the saint, the hermit, the lay 
brother who did miracles for a price, and it clung 
to him with a passion of faith and devotion which 


is a secure measure of the degradation and horror into 
which the community had fallen. Not an ill nor an 
evil in this life but had its precise and material com- 
pensation in the world to come! That world assumed 
all the specification and definiteness of the Christian 
eschatological system — a region of the habitation of 
dead saints and unborn saviours, of delectable food 
and drink and clothing, of magical efficiency and 
of vengeance upon the persecutor. The lineaments 
of the real Zion were absorbed into it. The true 
Messiah became in effect a supernatural being, his 
appearance contingent upon supernatural events and 
the restoration of Palestine a heavenly thing, uncon- 
nected with things of earth. Life throughout this 
period, which lasted some two hundred years, and 
aspects of which are still dominant, was for the Jews 
a somnambulism wherein the community and individual 
escaped from the harsh oppression of the poignant 
facts. The barren dialectic of Rabbinism and the 
hopeless inarticulation of mysticism were the whole 
of it. For once in their history the Jews were at last 
truly and completely a "religious," that is, a demoral- 
ized, people. 

The political event which broke into this somnambu- 
lism was the partition of Poland. The partition divided 
Jewry no less than the Poles between three new and 
active forces, whose impact brought not only different 
and new oppression, but also different and new social 
and intellectual contacts. Prussian and Austrian 
and Russian monarchs, much under the seductive 
infection of the liberal ideas of the eighteenth century, 
could not endure that their Jews should be different 
from their other subjects. They brought to bear 


upon them all the malicious pressure of bureaucratic 
machinery to 'modernize' and 'assimilate' them. 
That this should be met with stiffening resistance was 
inevitable. Neither Joseph I of Austria, nor the 
first Russian Alexander, nor his successor Nicholas, 
succeeded in developing among Jews any actual living 
movement toward modernization. The Jews went as 
far as they were compelled to, and no farther. And 
wherever the pressure was relaxed, they reverted to 
the initial form. Nevertheless, they did get modern- 
ized, and with unparalleled swiftness. The power 
which achieved this was not, however, political but 
intellectual and social, and it operated not by force, 
but by contagion. 

The process of its operation is usually called the 
"Haskalah" or Enlightenment. It is an inward change 
in the complexus of the Jewish nationality in eastern 
Europe, responding to the contacts of the new peoples, 
new forces, and new ideas which the partition of Poland 
brought about. It began in Germany, spread thence 
to Austria and to Russia. Its great protagonist was 
Moses Mendelssohn. A Polish Jew, come to place 
and power in Berlin, Mendelssohn felt, and felt truly, 
that the renewal of Jewry must come first through 
the force of liberal ideas, such ideas as were the currency 
of the fashionable and humane cosmopolitanism of his 
day. The movement he began was a movement to 
"Germanize" — in his day, the equivalent of "civilize' : 
in all eastern Europe — in the matter of dress and 
manners (in the course of time to dress or to be other- 
wise "deitch" became a matter for excommunication) 
as well as in science and letters. But the medium 
for the transmission of these "German' 1 ideas was 


inevitably Hebrew, always the lingua franca of the 
multi -lingual Jewish people. Hebrew, the holy tongue, 
was to be used for profane and secular purposes. 
There is the true animus of the Haskalah. It was an 
enterprise in secularization, and the resistance to it 
took the same form as some centuries earlier had been 
taken by the resistance to the renaissance in the wider 
world. Religion was set over against wisdom, super- 
stition against knowledge, authority against freedom. 
The protagonists of the Haskalah made alliances with 
the government, to effect their secularizing ends. 
The more the Rabbinists insisted on the dominion 
of their power the further the protagonists of Haskalah, 
called by the Jews Maskilim, went in the loosening of a 
community which was merely, and so, superstitiously, 
religious. In the end, the confrontation ceased to be 
one of religious Rabbinism or scholasticism with secular 
Hebraism. It became a confrontation of orthodoxy 
with "assimilation." 

Of this assimilation, of this perennial detachment 
of Jew after Jew from his community and his absorption 
in the community of the non- Jewish majority, the 
protagonists of the Haskalah had conceived high hopes. 
The impulsive and uncertain benevolences of Alexander 
II, the 'Tzar liberator," which opened to Jews the 
schools of the land and promised improvement of 
their economic ills, drew thousands of them into a new 
world; to their ardour and inexperience, a freer and 
more joyous world. It seemed to them as if the liberal- 
ism of the nineteenth century were about to succeed 
in accomplishing in Russia what it had failed to do 
in western Europe. The liberation and absorption 
of the Jews was to take place by an administrative 


ukase and the force of circumstances: no Jew had need 
to do anything but prepare himself intellectually and 

The young hopefuls were disillusioned. Alexander 
II himself repented of his wisdom just before his as- 
sassination, and his successor, with the assistance of 
the devout Pobiedonostzeff, arranged that the holy 
mediaeval tradition regarding the treatment of the 
Jews should in no way be desecrated. The young 
Jewish hopefuls discovered, as so many of other races 
and times did, that the solution of a problem of 
community by self-attrition was not a working solution 
for the community. They found themselves, therefore, 
uprooted, loose, tramps in mind and body, with more 
energy than efficiency. This energy they threw into 
the vernacular and Hebrew press, which they used 
as the device to get the benefits of their experiences 
before the Jewish masses, hoping, and succeeding, 
by this means to recover or establish a ground for their 
existence. No people in the world is so completely 
sensitive to the printed word as the Jew, and the 
Haskalah became, almost overnight, a mass-movement. 
To an extraordinary degree it laughed supernaturalism, 
magic, and myth out of court. It popularized science 
and radical economics. It created a Yiddish and neo- 
Hebrew belles lettres. The realities of this renaissance 
ensue over a period of hardly two generations of the 
nineteenth century. Its achievement seems a miracle 
— until it is remembered that the Jews were without 
any other institutions either for expressing, conveying, 
or stabilizing opinion. They were literally and ex- 
clusively the people of the book — and the newspaper. 

The interpenetration of science, higher criticism, 


"Jewish science," political and economic theory, 
religious speculation and belletristic fabrication with a 
realizing sense of the great Jewish tradition which 
was the stable mind of the Jewish masses led toward 
a recovery of the normal outlook upon the Jewish posi- 
tion and destiny. Haskalah imperceptibly took on 
the features of Jewish nationalism. Passive emancipa- 
tion at the hands of the non-Jewish majority, which 
was the hope of secularists, gave way to plans and 
programmes of active emancipation of the Jewish 
people by the Jewish people themselves. 

The earliest significant voice — which Hess had heard 
and to which he had responded — was that of Hirsch 
Kalischer, a rabbi of the orthodox church in Thon, 
Prussia. His whole work is witness of the interpene- 
tration of modernism and tradition which the great 
conflict of the Haskalah resulted in. The Jewish 
people, Kalischer wrote 1 , needed to reinterpret their 
life and destiny. They had been taught to wait for 
the realization of the Messianic hope through a miracle, 
but the true basis of realization must be self-help. 
By means of a colonization society working in a modern 
way under modern conditions 2 the restoration of the 
Jewish people to the Promised Land and to freedom 
might be achieved. At the outset, Kalischer had more 
influence in the West than in the East. The creation 
of the Alliance Israelite Universelle was due to his in- 
spiration and Hess's own practical proposals echo his. 
But in the East the heady taste of secular freedom 
kept the young men assimilative and the old men 
resistantly set in scholasticism a generation longer. 

^'Emmuah Jesharah," 1860. 
2 Derishat Zion, 1804. 


It was the anti-Semitic reaction of the '80s which 
there brought them to realization of the social realities 
of the Jewish position. Its mark is Leon Pinsker's 
"Auto-emancipation." This book, by a man as cos- 
mopolitan as Hess himself, makes an accurate and 
still valid analysis of the Jewish position. The world, 
it points out, has been dealing with Jews distributively, 
not collectively. Emancipation has been piecemeal, 
where it has occurred at all. The Jews have themselves 
been content with this condition. They have them- 
selves denied their national reality, though it stared 
them in the face. In consequence, they have been 
treated as living individual members of a dead nation, 
whose entity involved them like a ghost, insubstantial, 
yet real enough to awaken fear and dislike. As in- 
dividuals they are twice homeless — of uncertain and 
ambiguous status in the land of their sojourn and 
without any homeland to which they can refer or with 
regard to which they can change their status. Thus 
they are everywhere in the modern world legally and 
formally free and socially outcast. The only way 
to resolve this ambiguity is to create a homeland, a 
centre of corporate reference — anywhere. This can 
be done by the union of various Jewish alliances, the 
creation of a single directorate and of a fiscal agency 
that could raise money through the sale of lands and 
the necessary subscriptions. 

How near to the actual feeling of the vital generation 
of Jewry Pinsker's analysis came may be gathered from 
its results. For the first time since Sabbattai, a con- 
crete proposal bore practical fruits. A society was 
organized in Odessa, with Pinsker at its head. Branches 
sprang up wherever in a Jewish community thoughtful 


men congregated. By 1890 the Hovevei Zion, as it 
was called, had chapters in Austria, Germany, England, 
Rumania, France, the United States. It had under- 
taken the adventure. Bodies of ignorant, untried, 
and tenderly nurtured young idealists had gone to 
Palestine to found colonies in swamps, to suffer decima- 
tion, to persist, and in the end to conquer: sufferers 
from Rumanian pogroms had gone; the victims of 
Russians; and those who were moved only by the 
love of Zion. To all the Odessa committee held out a 
helping hand, very often mistakenly and ignorantly, 
but always with certainty as to the ultimate purpose. 
Its work in Palestine was met and supplemented with 
the work of the Alliance Israelite, and of the great 
benevolent Edmond de Rothschild. Its mistakes were 
met and supplemented also. But underneath the 
intrigue, the error, the comedy, and the irony which 
the work in Palestine developed there was a living thing 
taking root in the soil and sending shoots in the air 
and growing free. Observers of the social process 
could say truly that the Jewish people was finding 
itself at last. 



HOW completely and basically the Jewish people 
was finding itself may be gathered from the history 
of what is technically and formally Zionism itself. 
In the mind of Theodor Herzl, the initiator of the or- 
ganized international movement, it took shape first 
of all as a reply to anti-Semitism, which from the '80s 
to the end of the nineteenth century infected Europe 
like a disease. Anti-Semitism, Herzl argued in his 
Judenstaat, is an ineradicable and growing social 
phenomenon. The world repudiates Jews who come 
to it as Jews purely, who have not rejected their na- 
tionality and committed national suicide. Such a 
suicide, even if it were desirable, is a terrible and tragic 
process of suffering, and impossible to accomplish. 
Its alternative is the liberation of the Jewish national- 
ity as such, and this liberation must take the form 
of restoring the Jewish national home. The agency 
would be a world-wide society of Jews which should 
make preliminary political and economic investiga- 
tions and create a Jewish company, with a capital 
of $10,000,000 and headquarters in London, to carry 
out the enterprise of colonization by obtaining a 
charter from the Turk and operating under the same 
privileges as, say, the British East India Company. 



Practical initiative did not, however, come from the 
author of the Judenstaat; it came from the Kadimah 
of Vienna, an organization of students, in theory and 
practice imbued with the spirit of insurgent nationalism 
that dominated central Europe. This organization 
pledged its support to Herzl in every effort to bring 
together his Society of Jews. From various com- 
munities in the heart of Jewry came memorials and 
appeals. Herzl went to England, where Zangwill 
introduced him to the Jewish community of the United 

At last the great enterprise was launched and the 
first call for the Zionist Congress was sent out. Over 
it the Jewry of the world divided sharply — the prosper- 
ous minority of the West, represented chiefly by rabbis 
of the reformed sects, resented and denounced it. 
The great unprosperous majority of both the East 
and the West welcomed and acclaimed it as the first 
step in their divinely promised salvation. The old 
controversy between assimilation and freedom flamed 
up. The old arguments were repeated and the old 
rancours renewed, with, however, an unprecedented 
intensity deriving from the efficiency and vitality 
of the Zionist enterprise. The first Congress, held at 
Basle, Switzerland, in 1897, was an irrefutable demon- 
stration of Jewish national solidarity: demonstration 
of the organic interdependence, of the diversity in 
unity which is nationality, of all extremes of Jewish 
life and thought. The platform it adopted: 'The 
aim of Zionism is to create in Palestine for the Jewish 
people a publicly recognized homeland under legal 
guarantees,' ' became a foundation and a centre absorb- 
ing and coordinating all factions of Jewry to the com- 


mon purpose it expressed. It brought together ortho- 
dox and freethinkers, capitalists and socialists, the 
East and the West; it gave their unconscious and blind 
solidarity a conscious and envisioning ground. It 
rationalized the Jewish being. 

This rationalization is perhaps the most interesting 
aspect of an enterprise richer in handicaps and other- 
worldly survivals, particularly in sentiment, than in 
practical endeavour and achievement. It took the 
form of a conflict and reconciliation of what might be 
called the colonial temper of the western Zionists and 
nationalist temper of the eastern ones. The first 
Congress was naturally dominated by the great Jews 
of the West — in effect children of the tradition of Europe 
— by Herzl, Nordau, Zangwill, and their kind. To them 
Zionism was the solution of a question primarily 
economic and political. Its achievement was to be 
remedial rather than creative, and its value one of 
relief rather than of construction. But to the children 
of the Haskalah whose voice was the voice of the living 
Jewish nationality in eastern Europe, Zionism had of 
necessity to be far more than a relief and a remedy. 
In their reflection and aspiration it was to be the en- 
franchisement of the creative energies of the Jewish 
people, the conservation and reconsecration of the 
Hebraic spirit to the service of mankind in the Hebrew 
land. For them Zionism was primarily the condition 
of a spiritual and cultural recovery; economic and 
political changes were tools, not ends in themselves, 
and tools which they did not understand and could 
not care for. 

The most powerful but also the most obscurantist 
(because he insisted that the desired effect must also 


be used as its own cause — he urged the priority of a 
merely "cultural centre") voice of this conviction 
was Asher Ginsberg. No Jew of modern times has 
had so profound an influence upon the Jewish people 
because no Jew has so adequately effected in his own 
thinking and outlook that fusion of contemporaneity 
with tradition which is the constant ideal of the Jewish 
as of every other nationalist. In many ways an autodi- 
dact, Ginsberg, whose pen name is Ahad Ha'am, had, 
like most young Jews of his class and generation, studied 
a little in Germany, a little in Switzerland. He had 
absorbed both from the writings of Smolenskin and the 
intellectual temper of the world of his youth the spirit 
and the method of the Hegelians of the left, and his use 
of these has served satisfactorily to reconcile the an- 
tagonisms of the factions of the nation. Each national- 
ity, Ginsberg holds, is characterized by a spirit, an 
essence, a central spontaneity, which expresses itself 
in all the diverse forms of the national life: economic, 
social, political, religious, literary, and so on. The 
opposites of this expression are invariably fused in a 
common resultant, a synthesis, which alone is the 
adequate expression of the spirit. Thus the other- 
worldliness of the Essenes and the worldliness of the 
Sadducees are reconciled in the moralism of the Phari- 
sees, who are therefore the true representatives of the 
Jewish spirit of their time. And so through every 
phase of the history of the Jewish people, the present 
phase excepted. The contemporary Jew of the Ghetto 
is too restricted and rigid in his life and vision to be 
truly expressive of the Jewish spirit; the "emanci- 
pated" Jew is too uprooted and errant. The combina- 
tion of stability and freedom which allows for true 


emancipation is possible only by the recovery of a 
fixed centre of national culture where the Jew may be 
a Jew by inclusion and absorption rather than as in 
the Ghetto by exclusion and rejection. This centre 
is necessarily Palestine. Tradition, hope, and work 
make it so, and the academic settlement of Palestine, 
the establishment there of concrete embodiments of 
the Hebraic spirit in cultural institutions is the only 
true method of saving a living Hebraism for the service 
of mankind. 

This teaching made of Ahad Ha'am a protagonist 
and leader in the movement of Hovevei Zion. Herzlian 
Zionism took him by surprise and his relation to it has 
been that of a critical onlooker. The bulk of the Rus- 
sian Zionists, that is, the bulk of the Zionists, were of 
his following. They opposed "practical' 1 and "cul- 
tural" enterprises to "political" and diplomatic ones, 
the winning of the spirit to the saving of the body. Their 
victory was far-reaching, for they modified the temper 
and spirit of Herzl also — partly by combat, partly by 
contagion. By combat, through the steady and relent- 
less party opposition, culminating in the scene at the 
Congress of 1903, where, in spite of the bitter need of 
relief from the terrible persecutions of the period, they 
made overwhelming sacrifice by rejecting the British 
offer of Uganda. By contagion, through the slow 
modification of Herzl's purposes from remedialism 
to construction, because of contact with the spirit 
and aspiration of the Jewish people as it lived and 
laboured. This is to be observed in all his publications 
from 1897 on, but particularly in "Altneuland." In that 
book the writer's preoccupation is no longer to escape 
from persecution. The writer's preoccupation is the 


structure and organization of a just state. His ex- 
perience had set his Zionism in a more comprehensive, 
a truer vision, a fuller conception of its roots and im- 
plicated fruits. But Herzl saw what Ahad Ha'am 
did not; what, indeed, he was incapable of seeing — that 
a free and living culture is not the source but the out- 
come of an organized and stable life; that consequently 
the alternative to political action such as Herzl always 
stood for was not "colonization" or "cultural activity" 
but one more Ghetto, this time in Palestine, added to 
the others already existing; that this new Ghetto 
might be a Hebrew-speaking Ghetto and a very 
learned Ghetto, but, that without self-government and 
economic competency, it never could be more than 
a Ghetto. 1 Hence, in HerzPs view "cultural' ac- 
tivity might — indeed, should — accompany "political' 
action, but could never be a substitute for it. Herzl's 
statesmanship aimed inexorably at a Jewish state in 
Palestine. And this state, conceived at last in terms 
of social justice, was his foremost concern when he 

The activities which had preoccupied him and his 
following from the first Congress in 1897 to the day of 
his death, fall, broadly speaking, into three modes: 
the organization of Jewry, the development of the 
fiscal agencies of the organization, and political and 
diplomatic operations. 

The first of these endeavours was carried on in the 
broadest of democratic terms. The Zionist Organiza- 
tion was conceived of, and composed, internationally. 

J The complete absurdity of Ahad Ha'amism is evidenced by the Arabized 
character of the so-called successful plantations like Petah Tikwah and 
Rishon-le-Zion which are Arab villages with Jewish lords of the manor. 


The first Congress, of necessity, was made up of dele- 
gates representing the Jews of all the world who were 
interested, without regard either to number, age, basis 
of representation, or any of the other matters that 
are fundamental to representative government. The 
organization which was subsequently formulated made 
the Congress central. This was thenceforward to be 
composed of delegates, not less than twenty-four 
years old, who received their mandates from the mem- 
bers of the Zionist Organization. These, to become 
members, needed to be at least eighteen years old, and 
to pay the Shekel, or poll-tax, of twenty-five cents. 
They were joined together in autonomous national 
societies or federations, like the English Zionist Federa- 
tion or the Federation of American Zionists. Any 
four hundred of the members could elect a delegate to 
the Congress. The Congress determined the policies 
and actions of the organization. At first it met yearly, 
then biennially. Its alternate was the Central Commit- 
tee, composed of elected representatives of each national 
organization in proportion to its numbers, and de- 
signed to sit, when the Congress was not in session, 
with the Inner Actions Committee. The Congress 
elected the twenty-five members of the Actions (Execu- 
tive) Committee and designated the five to seven in- 
dividuals on it who were to compose the Inner Actions 
Committee. This latter was the administrative agency, 
the ministry, of the organization and was in continuous 
session. During Herzl's lifetime its interests were 
largely the creation of the means by which to carry 
out the programme adopted at the first Congress. 

This programme having declared the aim of Zionism 
to be the establishment for the Jewish people of a 


publicly recognized and legally secured home in 
Palestine, proceeded to specify the means of attaining 
this aim as follows: 

1. To promote through effective agencies the settle- 
ment in Palestine of Jewish agriculturists, artisans, 
and tradesmen. 

2. To organize and unify the whole Jewish people 
by means of local and general institutions suitable 
for the purpose and conforming with the laws of the re- 
spective states. 

3. To strengthen and augment Jewish self -conscious- 
ness in the individual and in the community. 

4. To take the proper preliminary steps toward 
securing the concurrence of the powers insofar as their 
assent may be necessary for the attainment of the 
Zionist goal. 

In the beginning all the emphasis was laid upon the 
second and fourth proposals. Emphasis on the second 
led to the creation, as a part of the development of the 
organization, of the fiscal agencies of the Movement. 
These are the Jewish Colonial Trust and the Jewish 
National Fund. The former was the actuality of the 
"Jewish Company" sketched in the Judenstaat. Its 
creation was not merely essential as a pre-requisite 
to the work of colonization in Palestine; it was essential 
to the establishment of a sound and safe basis of credit 
there, without which new agricultural or industrial 
communities could not develop. So, by vote of Con- 
gress, the Jewish Colonial Trust was incorporated, as 
an English Joint Stock Company. The year of incor- 
poration was 1899. Its projected capital, $10,000,000, 
was to be provided by the sale of 2,000,000 shares of 
stock of the value of $5 each, and its shareholders, 


over one hundred thousand in number, are as wide- 
spread geographically as is the Jewish people; but 
they have paid in only about four hundred thousand 
dollars of the ten million. The first hundred of the 
shares are called Founders' Shares; they carry more 
voting power than all the others, but pay no divi- 
dends and are held by trustees who are responsible to 
the Congress. In them is vested the directing power 
of the Trust. 

The trustees are also — with the freedom of their 
action limited in this connection by a "controlling 
committee' 3 (identical with the Inner Actions Com- 
mittee) — in control of the Jewish National Fund. 
(The two agencies of Zionist fiscal action are thus 
under a unified control and administered according to a 
single policy.) This Fund was established in 1901. 
Its purpose is to acquire land in Palestine as the in- 
alienable possession of the Jewish people. Its moneys 
come entirely as free-will offerings from Jews of all 
lands. The use is decided by the trustees, who com- 
pose under the laws of Great Britain (which chartered 
the Fund) an association issuing no stock. Under 
the charter the Fund may only purchase land and 
other immovable property in Palestine and adjacent 
territory for the purpose of settling Jews thereon: It 
can under no circumstance "divest itself of the para- 
mount ownership of any of the soil . . . which 
it may from time to time acquire." Designed at 
its inception to accumulate until it had a capital of 
$1,000,000, this fund has, nevertheless, since the 
Sixth Congress, 1903, undertaken a good many pur- 
chases and other enterprises in Palestine. This was 
due to a compromise decision made after a bitter 


quarrel, between the ''political' 1 and the " practical ,! 
parties of the Congress, and a part of the compromise 
was the agreement that one fourth of the capital of the 
Fund must remain an inviolable reserve, against the 
time when the political situation might demand its use. 

The political situation was in many ways Herzl's 
foremost preoccupation. His quarrel with Hovevei 
Zion derived from their blindness to its centrality 
and to the importance of political effort. His founda- 
tion of Die Welt was at bottom motivated by it, and 
so long as he lived operations in Palestine by the 
Zionist Organization were sharply kept within bounds. 
He visited one European chancellery after another, 
making friends for his cause, establishing precedent 
and priority for the Zionist Organization as the rep- 
resentative and spokesman of the Jewish people. 
He interviewed the Kaiser and the Sultan, the premiers 
of Russia and of England. With England he estab- 
lished a connection which has become traditional for 
good- will, friendliness, and cooperation. 

His opponents, deriving from the politically inex- 
perienced Ghettos of Russia, could neither understand 
this activity nor tolerate it. Their devotion to Zion 
was uttermost. They refused to endure anything 
that seemed like a surrender or compromise of the 
prime purpose of the recovery of Palestine. Conse- 
quently, the issue between them and Herzl came to a 
crisis in 1903, at the Sixth Congress. The background 
of this Congress was the period of anti-Semitic terror- 
ism, of pogrom and massacre, initiated by the Tsarist 
government to divert public attention from the ad- 
ministrative rottenness which had been responsible 
for the Russian defeats in the Russo-Japanese War. 


The towns of Kishineff and Gomel had been devastated, 
many Jewish communities laid waste. Herzl, seeking 
relief and finding Palestine — largely because of the 
intransigent attitude of Jewish millionaires who were 
begged to and might easily have provided the 
£10,000,000 demanded by Abdul Hamid for a conces- 
sion in Palestine — for the time being out of reach, 
negotiated with the British Government and secured 
the famous offer of Uganda. Over this offer the Con- 
gress split. The delegates from Russian Jewry bolted 
in a body. Their mandate was clear. They and their 
constituencies had been the sufferers; their need and 
their tragedy had prompted the search for a substitute 
for Palestine. But they would accept no substitute. 
Their ancestors had suffered for a thousand years; 
they, too, would suffer. They would suffer, they would 
endure. No matter what the cost, they could accept 
no way-station, no nacht-asyl; their hope and their 
destiny were in the land of their fathers and in nothing 
else. It was with difficulty that Herzl persuaded 
them to return to the Congress. The British offer 
was not refused outright; a commission was appointed 
to study the fitness of Uganda for colonization. But 
the report of the commission was a foregone conclusion. 
Indeed, to make assurance doubly sure the Russian 
Zionists held a conference at Kharkov which formulated 
a certain ultimatum to put before Herzl. That he 
satisfied the representatives of the Zionist masses may 
be gathered from the fact that the meeting of the 
Actions Committee in April, 1904, gave him a unanimous 
vote of confidence. Three months later, on July 3rd, 
he died of heart failure. He was only forty-four years 



THE leader's death seemed at first a blow from which 
the Movement could not recover. There were enrolled 
in it no personalities with the same force and imagina- 
tion, none with any sense of the political realities 
which had always to be held in the foreground of 
Zionist statesmanship. The more influential of the 
western Zionists, to whom Zionism was far more a 
programme of relief than a principle of creation, dis- 
appointed over the outcome of the Uganda affair, se- 
ceded from the movement, with Zangwill at their head. 
They formed the Jewish Territorial Organization (I to) 
which for a while bade fair to rival the Zionist associa- 
tion in influence and prestige. But the Ito was a lost 
cause from the beginning. It counted precisely with- 
out that deep emotion and overruling vision of the 
masses which had led to the dramatic rejection of 
Uganda, and which was keeping Zionism alive in 
spite of its inadequate leadership, in spite of the fact 
that with Herzl dead the movement became for a time 
a movement without a policy and without a plan, in 
spite of the fact that it reverted almost instantaneously 
to the eleemosynary attitude and methods of the pre- 
Herzlian times. Not that the 'great programme' 
was forgotten; there were simply lacking the initiative 
and the imagination to carry it on. David Wolfsohn, 



Herzl's successor as chairman of the Inner Actions 
Committee, was devoted to Herzl and the Herzlian 
programme, but he lacked the essentials of leadership. 
By vocation he was a banker, with distinguished busi- 
ness acumen, infinite caution, and unflinching courage. 
He lacked, however, the qualities to advance the cause. 
The best he could do was to keep it from going too 
far backward, to surround its financial agencies with 
adequate safeguards, to hold the factions together 
and — to mark time. In the end, the faction which 
caused the defeat of the Uganda projects defeated him 
also, and he also died. 

That faction was tied to ineffectually by its tradition 
of "practical' 1 work and by its ardour for 'cultural 
development." The Inner Actions Committee chosen 
to express it was truly expressive of it — its dominant 
figures were journalists, lay preachers, and at best a 
professor of botany. Neither it nor the Congress 
which elected it was particularly concerned with and 
certainly not skilled in the problems and technique 
of organization, the principles of financing, or any 
of the essentials which should compose an effective 
engine of statesmanlike endeavour. Numerically, the 
organization went backward rather than forward — it 
lost adherents particularly in western Europe and 
America, and in eastern Europe it came to a standstill. 
Attention shifted from the "great programme' 1 to 
the support of the existing Jewish settlements in 
Palestine and to the piecemeal construction of new 
enterprises — more especially of educational enter- 

This was accompanied by another phenomenon with 
which it was causally bound up — the development and 


stressing of party differences within the movement 
itself. Under the "great programme" these differences 
had been academic: they had been irrelevant to and 
did not in any way affect the unity of purpose and 
method which sought to secure Palestine once more as 
the homeland of the Jewish people. But with the 
initiation of specific undertakings these differences be- 
came important and are destined to play a progres- 
sively greater role both in the Zionist Movement and 
in Palestine itself. 

The differences echo the general political divisions 
of European society, with such qualifications as the 
peculiarities of the Jewish people impose. Zionism 
thus has its Centre, Right, and Left, and the quarrels 
that usually obtain between them. " Centre ' : may 
be used to designate what has often been called the 
"general ' : Zionist group, the Zionists who are con- 
cerned primarily and exclusively with the recovery 
of the Jewish homeland and are content to have let the 
correlative and subsidiary problems of its social and 
political economy wait public promulgation until the 
time comes for confronting and solving them. The 
overwhelming majority of the Zionists are "general." 
They elect the administrative officers and sustain 
them against the opposition. That, on the whole, 
a nd perhaps unfortunately, has made very few encroach- 
ments upon the Centre. 

In most respects in harmony with the Centre, 
but differing from it in essential emphasis, is the 
Right. Its official designation is "Mizrachi," and 
its interest is the conservation and enhancement of 
traditional Judaism. It sees in Zionism and in the 
Jewish homeland simply tools — indispensable tools, 


but nevertheless, tools merely — for the attainment of 
this end. Indeed, it sees the whole complexus of 
Jewish life, its culture, social organization, educational 
system and economy as secondary to this sectarian 
interest. The Jews, its protagonists hold, are a people 
whose chief, whose exclusive attribute, is religion, 
and religion of the type practised and defended by the 
Mizrachists. For justification they point to the fact 
that this type of Judaism is the Judaism of the orthodox 
mass, that the greater part of the history of this mass 
is religious history. From the Mizrachi point of view 
the Jewish problem is the maintenance of Judaism 
in harmony with modern life and society. Says 
an official apologist, quoting from the declaration 
made by its representatives at Pressburg in 1904: "The 
Mizrachi is an organization of orthodox Jews, who 
adhere to the Basle programme and who strive to per- 
petuate and develop the national Jewish life in the 
spirit of Jewish tradition." The Mizrachi believe, 
he says elsewhere, "that Jewish Nationalism is an 
essential ingredient to the existence of the Jews in the 
present and the future, and that it has always been 
an inseparable factor in Judaism, and that the Jewish 
religion is not complete without it. It further declares 
that the land of Israel, Palestine, is the land of the 
Jewish future, and that unless it is obtained, Jews and 
Judaism are threatened with a grave danger. Finally, 
it asserts that those two can obtain the ideal state only 
when they have as a base Torah Israel, the true 
tradition of the people." Organized in 1903 by Rabbi 
Jacob Raines of Lida, to carry out these principles, 
the Mizrachists have devoted themselves to propaganda 
among the 'orthodox mass" and to the development 


and maintenance of traditionalist educational institutions 
in Palestine. In view of their proclaimed unanimity 
with the orthodox mass, they have made extraor- 
dinarily little progress among them. The party's 
most numerous and most notable recruits have come 
from those Jews, both east and west, who find a prob- 
lem of conscience in reconciling orthodoxy with con- 
temporaneity. The Mizrachi programme and point of 
view offer a solution. But they are a programme 
and point of view altogether without meaning to the 
"orthodox mass," which is at rest in its orthodoxy 
and feels no problem. Mizrachism plays the same role 
in Judaism as Modernism in Catholicism, and is, by 
every probability, destined to the same fate. Mean- 
while, it goes through the usual party exercises of 
obstruction, disingenuous opposition, demand for ex- 
cessive representation. In Palestine it opposes the 
secular schools and demands disproportionate support 
for its own and other orthodox ones. 

The Left is very considerably more than the op- 
posite of the Right. Although the implications of the 
Right's position should lead to a complete split in the 
social economy of life also — Mizrachi seeks the admin- 
istration of the whole "law of Israel' 3 and "ultimate 
theocracy" — there exists, in fact, a high degree of 
harmony and cooperation between Mizrachi and the 
'general' Zionist organization on all matters not 
relating to Mizrachi's particular (demanded) preroga- 
tives in organization standing and in Palestinian work. 
But the Left is irreconcilable. Its position is exceed- 
ingly subtle, and for one not acquainted with the 
ethnic, religious, and cultural complications of central 
and eastern Europe, difficult to grasp. It is a position 


in which the postulates of socialism are fused with 
axioms of nationality. Because of the status imposed 
upon the Jewish people by the accidents of history, 
the Poale Zion (the Left is usually so-called — there 
are other forms of it — Zeiri Zion, Poel Hazair, etc.) 
hold, the Jewish masses are more absolutely the victims 
of exploitation than any other in Europe. They are 
exploited not merely as proletarians; they are exploited 
also as Jews, and exploited by everybody, by their 
fellow workmen of other races and sects as well as by 
the capitalists. The counter to economic exploitation 
is socialism. The counter to ethnic disability is na- 
tionalism, Zionism. Hence the name "Workers of 
Zion," and hence the organization of the workers 
into "class-conscious national units." Such organiza- 
tion is imperative for the adequate solution of the prob- 
lem of the Jewish masses. The capitalist Jew may 
and usually does lose his identity in his economic class, 
or at most, he retains his connection with the Jewish 
people by way of the Church and tries to establish 
the illusion that the Jews are a sect. For the Jewish 
masses such a moral suicide is impossible, and they 
would reject it as unworthy if it were possible. The 
cosmopolitanism of the rigid Marxian socialist, on the 
other hand, though much assumed and defended by 
many Jews — the lower East Side of New York is full 
of exclusively Yiddish-speaking "cosmopolitans"; they 
really compose a socialist Ghetto — shows itself wherever 
logically undertaken to be only a "form of assimilation 
that makes of the Jewish masses a pawn in the hands 
of ambitious bourgeois." Consequently, the self- 
conscious Jewish workmen are not merely Socialists, 
they are also Nationalists. "With the Jewish masses," 


writes Mr. Fineman, 1 "nationalism means self-assertion, 
contempt for servile sufferance, a higher cultural 
development; and, above all, a determination to take 
one's fate in one's own hand. Cosmopolitanism or 
assimilation involves surrender of individuality and 
destruction of self-reliance and self-respect. A people 
that is humiliated and is made to feel that its own speech 
and culture are of negligible importance is one that 
can also be more easily exploited. No wonder then 
that with minority nationalities the wealthy bourgeoisie 
and the exploiting plutocrats are usually in favour of 
assimilation and, on the other hand, class-conscious 
workingmen more or less clearly recognize that prob- 
lems of cultural autonomy and equality of national 
rights are of primary importance to the working class 
even in their economic struggle." The concern of the 
Poale Zionists, consequently, is not merely with the 
recovery of the homeland of the Jewish people; they 
are as integrally concerned with the economic and 
cultural character that this homeland is to have. Where 
the Mizrachi stress orthodox Judaism, they stress 
Socialism. But they differ from the Mizrachi in the 
character of this stressing. To the Mizrachi the secur- 
ity of orthodoxy is the paramount end, and the devices 
by which this is to be maintained are indifferent: 
any polity accomplishing the purpose is acceptable. 
To Poale Zionism the paramount end is the freedom 
and happiness of the Jewish worker as Jewish worker, 
and the polity whereby this is to be attained is implied 
by it. Hence Poale Zion has operated everywhere — 
in the international congresses, in the various national 
federations, in Palestine — as a genuine opposition, 

*" Poale Zionism," H. Fineman, New York, 1918. 


pressing always in the direction of economic democracy. 
However mistaken its economic theories may be held 
to be, its practice has thus far been exceedingly salutary. 
It has had the courage, also the foolhardiness of its 
position: it has neither bargained nor compromised. 
In the international socialist organization it has con- 
sequently become the acknowledged representative 
of the Jewish proletarian and it has secured from this 
organization and others the endorsement of the Jewish 
claim to Palestine; in the Zionist organization it has 
acted as a relentless critic of the policy of the majority, 
more often with heat than with wisdom, but always with 
unswerving loyalty to its dogmas. It is in Palestine, 
however, that its influence has been truly salutary. 
There it helped to create Hashomer, the force of mounted 
police for the protection of the colonies which has as 
much as anything else served to win the regard and 
respect of "Arabs" for Jews; it organized the Jewish 
workmen against exploitation by Jewish landowners; it 
defended the Jewish National Fund against abuse; it 
established a Palestine Labour Fund and Bureau; it 
organized cooperative societies for day labourers on the 
Swedish and Italian plans, and it is developing and 
maintaining various cooperative enterprises recognized 
to be far from Socialism, which are intended to safe- 
guard the Jewish workman in Palestine from exploita- 
tion on the one side and pauperization on the other. 



THE Palestine to which the "general" Zionists 
and the factions turned their attention was anything 
but the ideal which the tradition had made of it. Such 
forests as it had possessed had been cut down; its 
rivers were torrents in winter and rocky aridities in 
summer; the waters that had been distributed by 
irrigation ditches were puddled in swamps, and, for 
drinking and cooking, collected in cisterns. All these 
had become breeding grounds of malaria. The indi- 
genous peasant population, victims of successive waves 
of military conquerors, each of which had left a racial 
sediment in its wake, existed below the level of suste- 
nance necessary for healthful living. It was wasted by 
dirt and disease (trachoma and malaria outstandingly), 
retarded by ignorance and superstition, and impover- 
ished by taxes and the exactions of public officials. 
Its numbers were slowly decreasing; the equilibrium 
which its ancestry had succeeded immemorially long 
ago in establishing with its natural and political 
setting being inadequate for increase and hardly 
sufficient for self-maintenance. The non-indigenous 
population other than the Jews was made up of Chris- 
tian sectaries whose existence had no regard, even 
when they were self-supporting, to the condition of 
the land and the plight of their neighbours; their 



preoccupation was ultimately with heaven and salva- 

The same thing was true in even a greater degree of 
the Jews. There had always been Jews in Palestine; 
indeed, in all probability the indigenous population 
is to a great degree Jewish by blood, though no longer 
by nationality and consciousness. The conscious Jews 
came mostly from outside of Palestine and their 
primary interest in the land was in the merit they 
acquired by living in it, and the security that accrued 
to them by dying and being buried in it. To live in 
the Holy Land was, in their eyes and in the eyes of 
their European brethren, itself sanctification. And it is 
of the very nature of saintliness that it must not concern 
itself with the sordid things of this world, such as the 
provision of food, clothing, shelter, and assurance of the 
future; it lays up treasure in heaven and lives by 
charity on earth. The return it makes for what it 
receives it makes by way of blessings and of prayer, 
to guarantee prosperity for the living and security 
for the dead. 

This, since the middle of the eighteenth century, was 
the special vocation of the Jewish inhabitants of Pales- 
tine. They were concentrated in terrible slums of the 
cities — Jerusalem, Safed, Tiberias. They studied the 
Torah, they recited psalms, they wept and prayed at the 
wailing wall, they acted as official mourners and Kaddish- 
sayers, under stipend, for the pious dead and preoc- 
cupied living in lands beyond. Very many of them 
were old people who had themselves made pilgrimage 
to Palestine to die, but lived — on charity — and bred. 
For their children they organized the typical mediaeval 
chedarim or schools and the Talmudical academies 


called Yeshibahs. They married them off — on charity, 
and when they finally did die, they left them for in- 
heritance their claim on the charitable distribution 
which had attained the status and value of a vested 
interest and proprietary right. The charity they 
lived on and still live on is technically known as Halukah. 
It is a fund collected from the Jewries of the whole world 
to maintain the pious and saintly, whose merit it is to 
live in Palestine. Its administration and distribution 
participates in the unsavoury character of all such funds, 
and its existence and consequences constituted from 
the beginning one of the most vexatious problems of 
the Jewish secular concern with Palestine. 

This concern became direct and active early in the 
nineteenth century, with the ritual-murder accusation 
that was levelled against the Jews of Damascus. The 
accusation brought Sir Moses Montenore to Palestine, 
and in 1854 he tried to colonize thirty-five Safed Jews 
in Galilee. A score of years later, as one result of 
the efforts of Hirsch Kalischer, the colonies of Mosza 
and Petach Tikwah were founded by the settlement 
in those places of Jews from Jerusalem. To these 
were added in 1882, Rishon le Zio?i 9 Wadi-el-Hannin 9 
Rosh Pinnah, and Zikron Yaakob. 

With the foundation of Rishon le Zion a new type 
of Jew enters Palestine and the land's rehabilitation 
truly begins. There were no indications of this what- 
soever at the outset, nor for a generation to come. 
The founders of Rishon were young men, intellectuals, 
most of them tenderly nurtured, innocent of all knowl- 
edge of agriculture, with neither the physique nor the 
force to undergo the hardships of pioneering. They 
and their kindred had turned to Palestine in the passion- 


ate disillusion over liberation in Russia. The govern- 
ment of that land, under the Tsar Liberator, had opened 
up the gates of intellectual and vocational opportunity 
to the Jews. The younger generation, flocking to the 
universities, adding itself to the intellectual ferment 
of all young Russia, became Russophile and "assimila- 
tionist," as it were, over night. Then, as unexpectedly 
as the gates had been opened, they were shut down. 
The great good Tsar was killed. His successors re- 
placed his liberal ukases with the May Laws of 1882. 
Pogroms were initiated by the government throughout 
the Jewish pale, and as a consequence the great con- 
temporary folk-migration of the Jews began. The 
bulk adventured to America, there to build up the 
important American Jewish community; a few, a very 
few, reverting to the old ancestral vision of the Prom- 
ised Land and moved by their misfortunes to seek a 
radical solution of the problem of which their misfortune 
was so intimate and poignant an expression, adven- 
tured to Palestine. What distinguished them sharply 
and utterly from the older communities was the fact 
that their objective was secular and practical. They 
were not going to Palestine to die, they were going 
to Palestine to live. They were not going to lay up 
treasure in heaven, they were going to win a livelihood 
from the earth. In their consciousness Palestine had 
acquired a status different from that of the miraculous 
Messianic tradition and other-worldly hope of their 
predecessors. Their sentiment toward the land had 
a greater kinship with patriotism than with piety. 
The land was to them the land of their people's salva- 
tion, even as it was to the religionists, but the salvation 
was to be secular, through work, not through faith. 


The naive and unconsidered affirmation of their 
inexperience met with nullification, however, from 
two directions. At hand was the nudity and barren- 
ness of the country, changed in the course of centuries 
of maltreatment from "a land of milk and honey' 
into a swamp-spotted, disease-breeding desert. With 
that went the rapacity of the landowners who sold 
them land in all sorts of impossible places, like the 
marsh in which Rishon was founded. Farther off, in the 
Jewries of the world, there was the debilitating effect 
of the tenderness toward any Jew who lived in the 
Promised Land. Even the most secular of the Eu- 
ropean Jewries could not overcome the glamour of 
the vision whose fascination increased with the dis- 
tance; could not overcome the sense of eleemosynary 
responsibility for the pious who were accumulating 
merit by merely living in Palestine. So, when the 
inevitable happened, when the aspiring young colo- 
nies had consumed all their capital, when inexperience 
had starved them, when disease had weakened them, 
and death and flight had decimated them and those 
that remained turned at last to their brethren in 
Europe, the Europeans sprang to their assistance. 

But the spirit of the assistance they rendered was 
essentially charitable. 

They failed altogether to realize the principle of self- 
help and self-sufficiency. In the east a conference 
was organized at Kattowitz which later was trans- 
formed into the Odessa Committee. In the west 
there was the French Rothschild, moved to great 
largess by the tales of the sufferings and ardours of the 
colonists. The two vied with each other in errors of 
method and material wherewith the colonists were to be 


relieved. Little by little the colonists became demoral- 
ized. The first ardour died out, and the urgency of the 
struggle to survive was relaxed. Under the interest 
and providence of the Rothschild 1 fortune the colonists 
felt that they were secure. They ceased to work with 
their own hands. They acquired the manners and 
methods of the Arab effendi. Their homes became Arab 
villages. If a crop failed or money otherwise was needed, 
it came to them in the guise of a perpetual loan; or the 
price of a commodity was artificially maintained — by 
means of the Rothschild millions — regardless of the 
market and the other conditions controlling production. 
Wine that could not be marketed was stored in cellars 
built for the purpose, but prices were maintained and 
the proceeds used in sustaining in the colonies cheap 
imitations of the style and manners of Paris. 

Withal, the "administrators" who represented the 
Rothschild interest and were its stewards, were either 
indifferent to the development of the settlement or 
inimical to it. They made all the errors that possibly 
could be made. By their policy they added a colourful 
hatred to the colonists' colourful life. When, in 
1891, Ahad Ha'am visited Palestine for the Odessa 
Committee, he found the new Yishub living on a 
charity, on a Halukah more subtly distributed, but as 
genuinely a Halukah as the sources of livelihood of the 
old Yishub. He found strained relationships between 
the Jewish settlement and the Turkish Government, 

*It is proper to add that without the interest of Baron Edmond de Roths- 
child, this aspect of the Palestinian adventure would have failed in its very in- 
ception. He has not only generously maintained it, but has been able to 
profit by experience so that to-day he and his son James de Rothschild are 
among the staunchest supporters of a realistic policy of colonization and set- 
tlement in Palestine. 


strained because there had been competition and specu- 
lation in the purchase of lands so that the government 
had found it necessary to prohibit the immigration 
of and the sale of land to Russian Jews. He found 
that there were hardly any legalized Jewish holdings. 
He found the law of baksheesh regnant, and a complexity 
of devices, all involving more and more baksheesh, to 
hold together the Jewish colonist and the land. He de- 
manded, therefore, that the approval of the Turkish 
Government should be secured for any action to be 
taken by the Odessa Committee and he urged particu- 
larly that no aid should be given the colonists in the 
form of cash advances. 

His survey and his recommendations were disagree- 
able but tonic. They designated the beginnings of 
the moral, the economic, and practical rehabilitation 
in self-help and self-respect which had been the hope 
and the purpose of the pioneers. That they had fallen 
into the easy ways of a kept community was not alto- 
gether their fault. There were the ponderous inertia 
of tradition, the inexperience, and the incompetence; 
there was the infection of example from the older 
settlement of Halukah Jews, and of the established 
order of society in the land. Talking and studying 
were after all more habitual, more traditional to them 
than doing: and their inward drive was toward these, 
not toward agricultural or industrial competency. 
Lacking the external compulsion which would have 
forced them to achieve the latter, they spent themselves, 
in the security of the Rothschild providence, on the 
former. Like the old Yishub, they concerned them- 
selves with the spirit, but it was a secular spirit and 
its substance was a rehabilitated Hebrew vernacular, 


a Palestinian Hebrew Press, and a system of education 
in Hebrew. 

Its process and prelude was a cultural revolution 
in Palestine, a revolution in which the defenders of 
tradition persecuted, denounced, and excommunicated. 
Its leader was a young liberal, Eliezer Ben Yehudah. 
Born in Russia in 1859, his mind was formed by both 
the forces of the optimistic Haskalah and of the pes- 
simism which made all the young Russians that were 
his contemporaries into Nihilists. The upshot of his 
political frustration and his intellectual disillusion 
was, as it was for so many of his peers, the redis- 
covery of his place among his people, and a self- 
dedication to the regeneration of the one enduring 
specific symbol of his people's entity — the Hebrew 
tongue. He went from Russia to Paris, from Paris 
to Palestine. Facing death from tuberculosis and 
starvation, he lived in an underground hovel in Jeru- 
salem, the objective of all the rancour that orthodoxy 
could concentrate upon him. In his hovel, the only 
speech he permitted to be used was Hebrew speech. He 
refused to speak any other language upon the public 
streets. By force of his example, and the advocacy 
of the cause in a Hebrew weekly of which he made 
himself editor, he acquired a following. His following 
also pledged themselves to use only Hebrew in their 
households. Their children grew up in a Hebrew- 
speaking setting. They were sent to kindergartens 
and schools — such as they were — specially provided, 
where Hebrew alone was the language of play and of 

And the Hebraization of the children reacted again 
upon the parents. Slowly, life in the new Yishub 


became Hebraic. A literature and a drama grew up, 
as it were over night. In the colonies, the traditional 
holidays became spontaneously occasions for games, 
festivals, and pageants, the latter recapitulating various 
phases of the biblical narratives. To regulate and to 
guide the vernacular and literary development of 
Hebrew there was organized in Jerusalem the Vol ad 
Halashon, with Ben Yehudah as its head. This Vatad 
had the nature and functions of Richelieu's first 
Academy. It was the court of language. All new 
forms, spontaneous or manufactured, were brought to 
it for confirmation or rejection. It set itself the 
task and purpose of providing expressions needful 
to the daily as well as the literary life, and not to be 
found in the existing vocabulary. To accomplish 
its task it drew upon all sources — archaeological and 
Talmudical material, the Bible, the Hebrew literature 
of the Middle Ages. Its results are being incorporated 
by Ben Yehudah with the outcome of his own private 
labours m his Milton, or Hebrew dictionary. 

This spontaneous linguistic and cultural develop- 
ment of the new Yishub was by no means a smooth 
one. That the Hebraic movement was resisted by 
the older and spiritually mediaeval settlement has 
already been noted. An attempt on the part of a 
section of this settlement, made in 1866, to establish 
a school (the Blumenthal School) where the manage- 
ment was competent and where the study of one 
European language was compulsory, met with ex- 
communication on the part of the Ashkenazic section 
of that community. The first real and effective at- 
tempt from outside to bring something of the spirit 
of self-help and national self-respect to the Jewish com- 


munities of Palestine was made by the Alliance Israelite 
Universelle under the leadership and personal initiative 
of the saintly Charles Netter. In 1870 he founded 
near Jaffa the Mikweh Israel — an agricultural school, 
on the most approved model of the time. His super- 
vision lasted until his death, in 1882. With the passing 
of his personality and the change in temper of the 
directorate, a change that reflected the political changes 
in the Europe of the time, the effect and the policy 
of Mikweh Israel as well as of the other Alliance 
schools in the Orient were altered. Designed to convert 
the Halukah-receiving population into self-supporting 
and self-respecting agricultural labourers — and during 
the period of Netter's leadership, labourers with a 
vision of national restoration before them — its actual 
effect, like that of all the Alliance schools, was to make 
of the pupils amateur Frenchmen, agricultural ad- 
ministrators, book-made experts, or teachers eager to 
find, and eagerly seeking, life and vocation elsewhere 
than in Palestine. The policy of the Alliance was to 
cross and to frustrate, as nearly as it could, the spon- 
taneous tendencies of the new settlement and to 
obstruct its influence upon the old. That it should 
fail was a foregone conclusion. All it accomplished 
was to lend prestige to those tendencies — to the use 
of European methods of education, of management, 
and to training for industry. It had its competitors 
in England and in Germany, who endowed schools 
with analogous purposes and with analogous futility. 
Colony after colony succeeded in establishing inde- 
pendently its own school and its Hebrew medium. 
Not easily and not without conflict. In 1888 Israel 
Belkind tried to found a national school at Jaffa, 


but failed for lack of funds. In the agricultural colonies 
this lack was met by the Rothschild money, distributed 
by the Jewish Colonization Association (J. C. A.) 

This association, which is trustee for the Baron 
Maurice de Hirsch Foundation, had been made trustee, 
in 1899, of the Rothschild assets and liabilities in the 
Jewish colonies of Palestine. Its charge was to bring 
order and self-dependence out of the confusion and 
pauperism that prevailed in the Rothschild colonies. 
Although it has been accused of absentee landlordism 
and bureaucracy, it certainly did attain to something 
which may be called success in comparison with the 
utter failure of Rothschild and the Odessa Committee 
and the independent pioneers. To some degree and 
after a fashion, it rehabilitated the economics and 
administration of the colonies. Refusing resolutely 
to interfere with the cultural interests of the Yishub, 
it devoted itself to recreating the economic indepen- 
dence which had been lost. It uprooted vineyards, 
cut down the output of wine, withdrew the Rothschild 
subsidy which had kept prices at a level of extraordi- 
nary inflation, and compelled the wine-growers to offer 
their wine in open market to bona-fide buyers. At 
the same time it arranged to see the colonists through 
their crises on more of a business and less of a philan- 
thropic basis. This it did by a system of guaranteed 
loans with specific, though varying, terms, secured 
by mortgages, and replacing the unguaranteed loans 
that were really gifts. The necessities of the situation 
and the pressure of the J. C. A. forced the wine-growers 
of the six viticultural colonies into cooperative organ- 
ization for both buying and selling. Within ten years 
they succeeded in making their affairs profitable enough 


to begin to discharge their debts and to pay off their 

The method had been used by the Jewish Coloniza- 
tion Association in the Argentine and in the establish- 
ment of its own colonies in Galilee. There it set up 
farms, for the training of agriculturalists, each under 
the direction of an expert supervisor. Around these 
farms it built its colonies, consisting of allotments of 
land, houses, stock, and tools, to be leased to each work- 
man whose training had made him eligible for an 
allotment. His terms were of the easiest: the pay- 
ment of a rent, at first in kind, of about one fifth 
his gross produce; then, if both sides were willing and 
satisfied with each other, a contract under which the 
colonist was to pay off the cost of his farm and equip- 
ment (varying in price from $2,200 to $3,500) in about 
fifty-one years, at the rate of 2 per cent, per year. Es- 
sentially philanthropic though this is, it is an enor- 
mous improvement over the earlier pauperizing methods. 

That the readjustments which the methods of the 
Jewish Colonization Association compelled should 
work hardship; that the colonists, already pauperized 
in spirit, did not like them and should complain bit- 
terly, were foregone conclusions. It was not a foregone 
conclusion that the Association should succeed. For 
its success was dependent upon a radical change, a 
change equivalent to a religious conversion, in the 
psychology of the colonists. This change neither the 
Association nor any other force active in Palestine 
could have brought about. It derived, when like a 
rocket it flashed up, from a new and entirely extraneous 
influence, supplying a new and efficacious morale, a new 
dynamic and a new vision. The influence was Zionism. 



THE reaction of Palestinian Jewry to Zionism and 
the Zionist principle could not, at the beginning, fail 
to conform to the wont and use of their daily lives. 
These, in their bearing on the economy and polity of 
Palestine, had the blindness of instinct or the illusion 
of religion. At no point were they illuminated by an 
organic principle that should govern the policies of 
the community and give conscious direction to its 
life. The orthodox, the Messianists, in Palestine 
responded to Zionism with the same pious repulsion 
as their fellow-pietists elsewhere; the pan-Turanians,, 
of whom there were some, echoed the German and 
French assimilationists, and among the members of 
the new Yishub there was the same dubious assent as 
among the Hovevei Zionists who were their chief 

Moreover, the first position and prior policy of the 
Zionist organization under Herzl's leadership were in- 
different to their interests. The position was that no 
enterprises should be undertaken in Palestine except 
under the guarantee of a charter which would make 
possible autonomous control and organic national 
development. The policy was to create the instru- 
ments for such a development and to withhold their 
utilization until the political guarantee had been 



secured. Under Herzl, the Zionist organization, con- 
sequently, devoted itself to building up its membership 
and institutions and to carrying on diplomatic and 
political negotiations with the chancellaries of Europe. 
The Russian Hovevei Zionists, who — with notable ex- 
ceptions such as Ahad Ha'am — had joined the move- 
ment, opposed the position and the policy bitterly; 
offering as alternative the elaboration and continuance 
of their own programme, now translumined by the 
Herzlian purpose as its goal. Between them and 
Herzl and his followers there was continual strife, 
and all the parties in Zion were defined, according to 
their adherence, as ' ' practicals" or "politicals." 

From the point of view of the "politicals" the posi- 
tion of the Jewish colonists in Palestine was precarious 
in the extreme. Under Turkish law they had no right 
to the land they held; indeed, their holdings were either 
unrecorded, or recorded in the name of some Arab or 
Turk; they themselves were without legal claim on it. 
To retain it, and to maintain their status, they were 
under the compulsion of the frequent and extensive 
use of baksheesh, and at the mercy of the caprice of 
every official. Jews, furthermore, could enter Turkish 
territory, particularly Palestine, only under difficulties, 
and their stay was formally illegal. By the regulations 
of the Porte, made in 1888, Jews seeking to enter 
Palestine were required to secure a "red ticket' 1 and 
once in, could stay only three months. The regula- 
tions were a dead letter from the moment of their 
promulgation, baksheesh and the general feeling of their 
insincerity helping to make them so. But they kept 
dubious the whole position of the Jewish settlement 
of Palestine and it was with an eye on them that Ahad 


Ha'am made the recommendations of 1891. In 1900, 
when it began to be apparent that little would come 
of the negotiations between Herzl and Abdul Hamid, 
the Vali of Beirut was again instructed to enforce the 
regulations, apparently in the hope that such an 
action might force the hands of the rich Jews, regarding 
whose riches and desire for Palestine Abdul Hamid 
had mythical ideas. Had the instructions been obeyed, 
the whole Yishub would have been destroyed. Italy 
and the United States protested, however, that en- 
forcement w T ould mean discrimination against their 
nationals on the basis of religion, and the Turks re- 
frained, reverting to the older practice. The event, 
of course, was a concrete illustration of the considera- 
tion that animated the "politicals," and there were 
some Palestinians who understood them, and sided 
with them. 

In any case, that the Palestinians' hopes were stirred 
and their vision enlarged is indisputable. They were 
always represented at the congresses, and HerzPs 
visits to Palestine produced a marked and lasting inten- 
sification of their nationalist morale. The negotiations 
over El Arish and Uganda, which succeeded the negotia- 
tions with the Turk, served to intensify it still further, 
and it was suffused with something like anti-Zionist 
feeling during the sessions of the Sixth Zionist Congress 
when the British offer was being debated. The occa- 
sion was not the Congress itself, but another congress 
in Palestine, organized and presided over by Mendel 
Ussishkin. Sanguine in temperament and dictatorial 
in his contacts with other men, he had qualities that 
fitted him for leadership under the conditions of re- 
stricted public life in Russia, but which were entirely 


unsuited to the open methods and public deliberations 
of parliamentary procedure. Although a member of 
the Zionist organization and conspicuous by his be- 
haviour rather than by his ideas at the congresses, he 
was an intransigent Hovevei Zionist and he opposed 
Herzl and the "politicals" from the start. His meth- 
ods were rather those of Tsarist Russia than of parlia- 
mentary England, and the congress that he created in 
Palestine was his first reply to the Uganda offer. It 
proposed an organization of the philanthropic agencies 
functioning in Palestine — of the Jewish Colonization 
Association, the Odessa Committee, the Alliance 
Israelite, the Ezra (a German society) and represen- 
tatives of Baron Edmond de Rothschild, who, together 
with the Yishub through its chosen spokesmen, should 
collaborate ' practically ' ! to the end of colonizing 
Palestine with Jews. The enterprise failed, and in 
the meantime Herzl had died, and the Seventh Congress 
had with dignity and appreciation declined the British 

This action was a victory for the "practicalists." 
It closed a phase of Zionist activity. All subsequent 
action, economic, social, and cultural, centred about 
Palestine and the communities there. The first step 
was taken in the year of the Sixth Congress, when the 
Jewish Colonial Trust organized the Anglo-Palestine 
Company bank in Jaffa. Other branches appeared, 
in the course of time in Jerusalem, Beirut, Haifa, Safed, 
Tiberias, Hebron, Gaza, and Petah Tikwah. Their 
ultimate purpose, their economic liberalism, and their 
— in comparison of course only with what had obtained 
in the past — apparently businesslike methods created a 
new industrial and commercial standard for the Yishub, 


a standard suffused with something of the high morale 
of the national idea. 

The function of these banks was reenforced in 1911 
by the institution of the Palestine Commission. In 
that year Wolfsohn, who had succeeded to the post 
and the policies of Herzl, went down to defeat. The 
"practicalists" became the government of the Zionist 
organization, with a policy that just barely kept them 
from going over the edge of Zionism to an absolute 
philanthropism. This was, in the imagination of its 
apologists, an extension of the general policy of Europe 
abroad, to the sphere of Jewish interests. It was "the 
policy of economic penetration." The Jewish claim 
to Palestine on merely historic grounds, argued Otto 
Warburg, a professor of botany in Berlin and the 
leader and promulgator of the new programme, was 
not worth much, nowadays. A valid modern title 
would have to rest on the economic dependence of 
Palestine upon Jewish investment, initiative, and 
resources. The Palestine Office or Bureau was created 
pursuant to this idea. It purported to function prac- 
tically as a home ministry, collecting information, 
guiding and assisting would-be settlers, and directing 
and coordinating all sorts of activities. Certain 
moneys of the National Fund were, not without a 
struggle, made available for its activities. It guided 
and to some degree subsidized experiments — which 
were wasteful failure — in afforestation; in cooperative 
colonization, notably the costly and unsuccessful 
Merchaviah experiment according to the plans of Franz 
Oppenheimer. It undertook housing experiments, the 
care of the Yemenites, the encouragement of the art 
school, Bezalel, and its shops, of the Hebrew Gym- 


nasium at Jaffa, of the Technical School at Haifa, 
and the Hebrew University, projected already before 
the war — all with the enormous wastage which is the 
price of inexperience or something more sinister. 

The dominating interest, naturally, was "cultural 
work' : in Palestine. Three at least of the members 
of the Inner Actions Committee were avowed disciples 
of Ahad Ha'am. All felt the pressure of the Zionist 
intellectuals toward cultural revival. The exceeding 
emphasis on the school system, then, was a part of 
the party programme, but it represented, as has already 
been noted, the natural institutional trend of the effec- 
tive will of the Jewish people, this will having become 
accustomed to expressing itself in schools and litera- 
ture, and having still much training to undergo before 
it may be able to realize itself in organically conceived 
national economic and political institutions. Toward 
that latter end also, however, first and tentative steps 
had been taken in the development of cooperative 
consumers and marketing associations among the older 
colonists, and the growth and functioning of the 
va'adim, or councils, with their occasional equal 
suffrage and commission form of administration. The 
chief instrument of the Zionist organization in helping 
toward all these developments was the Palestine Office, 
somehow directed by a sociological writer, Dr. Arthur 

In sum: under the new Zionist policy, the impact 
of the Zionist idea on Palestine served to awaken and 
to direct the anarchic Jewry of the land into a com- 
munity tending to acquire the characteristics of a 
national polity. Compared with even the inchoate 
Albanians, the spirit of this community was still 


atomic and centrifugal, but beside its antecedents in 
Palestianian Jewry itself it was corporate and organic 
indeed. Any enmity, menacing vigorously enough 
from without, would fuse its disparate organizations 
into institutions of its society and its consciousness 
of nationality into the patriotism of nationhood. 

The lacking inimical menace was supplied by the 
action of European rivalries on the Turkish Empire. 
These rivalries had kept alive the "Sick Man" of 
Europe, even through crises in his own existence. The 
conflicting ambitions of Austria-Hungary and Russia 
in the Balkans, the British anxiety over the Syrian 
road to India and the protection of the Suez Canal, 
the French investments in Syria, and the crystalliza- 
tion of the German programme of a Middle Europe, 
were cleverly used by Abdul Hamid one against the 
other to keep himself safe amid atrocities. The 
latter were as essential a part of his domestic policy 
as the former were of his foreign policy. For the 
Turkish Empire was a polyglot empire, and the Turks 
were a minority in their own dominion. Heirs of 
the imperial structure of Byzantium, they allowed 
its common life to run on of its own momentum — 
until it ran down — and trusted their sovereignty 
to the sanction of the military force of the Janissaries. 
But these themselves lost integrity in the course of 
time. Posts became hereditary, and discipline and 
ferocity were replaced by intrigue and baksheesh. 
The peoples that were dominated and exploited by 
these forces were designated as millets, that is, religious 
nationalities, having their own leaders, with powers 
and functions that were secular as well as religious. 
Thus the Christians of Turkey in Europe were con- 


sidered all of the Greek millet, regardless of whether 
they were Bulgars or Serbs, or Croats, or Vlachs, or 
Greeks proper. 

It would perhaps have been fortunate for Europe 
if this mode of unity had remained the dominant 
one, and the liberation of these nationalities from the 
Turkish yoke had been the common action of a group 
regarding itself one and indivisible. But the pressure 
of the continental rivals prohibited this, and the auto- 
genous interests of the linguistic and ethnographic 
societies were reenforced and were exploited by the 
continental powers. The slow expulsion of the Turk 
from Europe is a function not primarily of the single 
religious, but of the many awakening national con- 
sciousnesses of the various subject-peoples of the 
Porte. Greek and Serb and Croat and Bulgar and 
Ruman, by force or fraud or both, attained first to 
autonomy, then to independence, under the stimula- 
tion of linguistic and literary revival at home and dip- 
lomatic intrigue and military force abroad. It became 
apparent, finally, that Turkey-in-Europe was doomed. 

It became apparent, to none so much so, as to the 
subjects of the Porte who called themselves Young 
Turks, and who hoped to save the empire from the 
dissolution within and the destruction without, which 
threatened it. The Committee of Union and Prog- 
ress that led them was recruited from a variety of 
the races of the empire: Donmeh Jews from Saloniki, 
Bulgars, Poles. Most of its members had lived in 
exile abroad. They had been students of European 
politics and European political theories. They had 
been particularly intrigued by the ideology of the 
French Revolution, and at the outset, it would seem, 


they took this ideology literally, abstractly. Their 
one aspiration was to modernize Turkey, to democra- 
tize and vitalize her. This aspiration fitted the in- 
terests of certain financiers in Saloniki and of others, 
far more important, in Vienna, Buda-Pesth, Berlin, 
and very probably, Paris and London. With the 
means supplied, in return for pledges of concessions 
by these financiers, the Young Turks conspired to over- 
throw the government. In 1908 they did overthrow 
the government, but their revolution was the coup d'etat 
of a minority, not a great national uprising. For the 
latter the necessary elements were lacking. The re- 
ligious sanctity of the Sultan was too great; the popu- 
lations were too diverse, too backward, too little in- 
terested in government. 

At the outset there spread the general spirit of 
good feeling and hopefulness which accompanies 
vital changes everywhere. The Constitution pro- 
claimed religious and political equality, universal 
suffrage was introduced, and a parliament convoked. 
The more progressive parts of the population were 
filled with hope. But it soon became apparent that 
the abstractionist principles of the eighteenth century 
on which the Constitution was built were inapplicable 
to the mediaeval status and mentality of the popula- 
tion of the empire. The Albanians, and then the 
other nationalities began to make difficulties. The 
levelling effect of the rule of universal military service 
was resented by Jews, Druses, Arabs, and others who 
had been accustomed to relieve themselves of the obli- 
gations of this service by paying a head-tax. The at- 
tempt to introduce a uniform system of taxation met 
with similar resentment. Other troubles eventuated. 


Just how they converted the Young Turkish ab- 
stractionist libertarianism into what the Germans 
call "realistic' 1 pan-Turanianism it is difficult to say. 
The Austrian seizure, in 1908, of the Jugo-Slavic 
territories of Bosnia and Herzegovina had a great deal 
to do with it; so had the attainment of complete Bul- 
garian independence; so had the Italian adventure 
in Tripoli, and the Greek rebellion in Crete. All 
these enterprises served well and nobly to awaken 
the Young Turks to the political realities of the situa- 
tion of their empire. They saw the Balkans slowly 
Europeanized, their own people more and more forced 
back into Asia. They saw themselves without any 
real friends in Europe — alienated from the British, 
the object of exploitatious envy of the French, the 
object of military menace by the Russians, Aus- 
trians, and the Balkan peoples. In this situation 
their religion was no refuge to them. It was a tool, 
and, Europeanized liberals as most of them were, it 
was a tool too unsuited to their temperaments and 
points of view for any but the crudest and most bung- 
ling uses. They looked to Europe for a way out, and 
they found it in the chauvinistic nationalism which, 
after the Franco-Prussian War, had become the Euro- 
pean style. The model they took was naturally 
Prussia, and they added the trickeries of electoral 
regulations, of racial disablements, and the other de- 
vices of that highly organized oligarchy to the tradi- 
tionally Turkish methods of government into which 
they found themselves spontaneously sinking back. 

That step once taken, the others in the imitatio 
Christianis followed inevitably. As they had changed 
from religious tolerance and nationalist indifference 


to religious indifference and nationalist chauvinism, 
so they changed from nationalist chauvinism to 
cultural imperialism. To the oppressive pan-Slavism 
and pan-Germanism of the Russians and the Prussians, 
there was added, thus, the no-more-unworthy pan- 
Turanianism of the Turks. They saw a vision! a 
vision of a mighty, united modern empire, stretching 
from the Bosporus to Persia, from Sinai to the Black 
Sea. The language of this empire was to be Turkish, 
and its literature and cultivation were to be not less 
than the best. It was to be economically and politi- 
cally as powerful as the most powerful, and culturally 
as vigorous as the most vigorous. That its attain- 
ment meant the spiritual if not the physical murder 
of the Greek, Armenian, Kurd, Druse, Arab, Jewish 
and other populations of the empire did not trouble 
the seers. These subject populations could Turkify 
if they were made to: did not the Germans and the 
Hungarians and the Austrians and the Russians com- 
pel their own subject-populations? The order for 
Ottomanization went out. Inhabitants of the land 
were willy-nilly to be turned into Turks, bag and 
baggage, Turks in language, in allegiance, in military 
and fiscal obligation. The necessity of doing this 
became, in the opinion of the Committee of Union 
and Progress, all the more urgent after the disastrous 
war with the Balkan League. A pan-Turanian propa- 
ganda, led by Tekin Alp, was carried on among the 
Turks; Syrians and Armenians were faced with the 
alternatives of Turkifying or being exterminated. 

These policies suited the interests and received the 
encouragement of imperial Germany. From the time 
that the rulers of that unfortunate country decided 


to adventure after "a place in the sun," the cultivation 
of friendly relations with Turkey became the foundation 
of that scheme of empire known since the beginning 
of the Great War as Mittel Europa. Turkey was to be 
the keystone of this arch of empire in the domain of 
business enterprise, the keystone of this arch of empire 
in the dreamt-of hegemony of Asia and Africa. The 
relations with the Young Turks were made closer and 
more intimate as the latter's relations with the other 
European powers grew colder and more strained: 
German teachers in Turkish schools, particularly in 
the technological schools, German reorganizes for 
Turkish business and Turkish finances; German officers 
and German reorganization for the Turkish army; 
German concessionaries for Turkish natural resources, 
such as coal mines at Rodosto and copper mines at 
Arghana Maden; German concessionaries for Turkish 
public utilities such as railroads, harbours, and irriga- 
tion undertakings; German religious, scholastic, philan- 
thropic, and colonial enterprises all over the empire, 
in Palestine, noticeably. Above all, the German 
language everywhere, displacing Greek or Arabic or 
Armenian or Hebrew, and rivalling Turkish. Thus 
in the empire of the Ottomans razor was cutting razor. 
Turkification and Germanization were going on at the 
same time and prefacing a complicated future indeed 
for both the masters and the subjects of the processes. 
Palestinian Jewry was the first of the non-Turkish 
peoples of the empire to feel their effects. The nature 
and purposes of the Jewish settlement in Palestine 
became the subject of malicious animadversion in the 
German-language press in Constantinople. The Zion- 
ist movement and its plans became an item in the 


Franco-German rivalries. The prominence of Jews 
of German citizenship in the movement added to the 
dislike with which the assimilatory directorate of the 
Alliance Israelite Universelle regarded it, and led to 
provocative exchanges with members of the Committee 
of Union and Progress in Palestine. Discussion upon it 
took place in the Turkish Parliament. It emerged that 
Zionism was being described as the spear-head of an 
international conspiracy of financiers against the integ- 
rity of the Turkish Empire; that it was a device to 
secure the hegemony of the empire's peoples; and so 
on. A pan-Arabian movement postulated upon anti- 
Jewish propaganda, and with an evident French back- 
ground made its appearance. All this was to be added 
to the pan-Turanianism of the Ottoman Jews them- 
selves. These symptoms of the French bid against the 
Germans for Turkish good-will served only to unify the 
Jewry of Palestine and to intensify their consciousness of 
nationality. Practical measures taken by the Turkish 
government — the sudden renewal of the enforcement 
of the rules requiring Jews who entered Palestine to 
obtain the "red ticket" which permitted them to stay 
there three months, the attempt to penalize all Jews 
inhabiting Palestine into Ottoman citizenship, and 
finally the abolition of the capitulations with the con- 
sequent subjection of foreign settlers to the dominion 
of Turkish law — these singly and together generated 
an emotion which crystallized into national solidarity. 
But the irresistible agent of nationalization was 
the assault upon the one symbol of Jewish solidarity 
which has been perennial and has survived all the 
disintegrating forces which have worked upon Jewish 
life. This symbol is the Hebrew language. With 


what pains and how heroically it had been made the 
speech of the children of the land and the language of 
the schools, has been recorded. The most conspicuous 
and cherished symbol of nationality among the other 
suppressed peoples of Europe and Asia, how much more 
precious was their language to the Jews, whose sole and 
only symbol it was, where the others had at least 
in addition the occupation of their lands by their own 
national masses, and the continuity and stability of 
their national customs and traditions. Among the 
Jews of the Diaspora Hebrew was the lingua franca, 
the Esperanto overruling their babel; in Palestine it 
was the cement that suffused and unified their di- 
versities of origination, speech, sect, and custom. All 
the agencies at work among Palestinian Jews felt this — 
English, German, even the French. The schools 
they supported and the teachers they sent out made 
use of Hebrew as the medium of instruction. Sud- 
denly, and in a very conspicuous case, the Hilfsverein 
der Deutschen Juden, which had been the German 
section of the Alliance Israelite Universelle and had 
split off from it, appeared as the protagonist of German. 
This was in 1913. The Hilfsverein had for some years 
previously been conducting and supporting schools in 
Palestine, and in all of them the language of instruction 
had initially been Hebrew. The disturbance into 
which the linguistic cause celebre threw the Jewish world 
brought to light the fact that German was being 
insinuated to displace Hebrew in the schools with which 
the Hilfsverein had any relations. The revealing oc- 
casion appeared itself to be a last step in a scheme of 
Germanification that fitted too well with the known 
programme of German imperialism. This occasion 


was the determination of the language of instruction 
for the projected Polytechnic Institute at Haifa. The 
bulk of the funds for the organization of the Institute 
had come from the Wissotzkis, Hovevei Zionists of 
Moscow, and from a number of American philanthro- 
pists interested in Palestine. The very small remain- 
der had been contributed by the Hilfsverein itself, 
while the National Fund had contributed the land. 
A question by Dr. Schmarja Levin regarding the at- 
titude of the organization toward the language to be 
used in the schools and the Polytechnic forced the 
German members of the board at last to go explicitly 
on record in favour of Germanization. The Zionists 
thereon — Ahad Ha'am, Doctor Levin, and Doctor 
Tschlenow — necessarily resigned. The Zionist Organ- 
ization immediately drew the Americans into the 
controversy, and an appearance was created of Ger- 
mania contra mundum. For they, although only a very 
few were Zionists, agreed with the Palestinians. The 
Hilfsverein, holding title to the plant, remained in pos- 
session of it. 1 

But it was an empty shell they remained in possession 
of. The event had thrown the Jewry of Palestine into 
a turmoil. The Teachers' Union protested, and their 
members employed in the Hilfsverein schools were 
locked out by its officials. Thereupon the pupils struck 
and with them the remaining teachers. There were 
meetings, parades, speeches. The whole Yishub was 
aroused. Money was raised to help the impecunious 
pupils and to support the striking and locked-out 

2 It has since sold it to the World Zionist Organization for the amount 
actually put in by the German directors. It was paid for by the late Jacob 
H. Schiff who had contributed liberally toward its foundation. 


teachers. An integrated national school system of a 
sort was worked out somehow, and the Zionist Organ- 
ization pledged itself to meet the budget of the system. 
The men and women who made the system are mem- 
bers of the Agudath Hamorim or Teachers' Association. 
There is no unrelated or independent school committee, 
no demoralizing external control of the teacher's opinion, 
subject-matter or method. The teachers themselves, 
united in this association, have created the standards — 
such as they are — for the village and city schools, have 
licensed teachers, have prepared the needful textbooks. 
The teaching fraternity in Jewish Palestine is, with all 
its handicaps and incompetency, what it is nowhere 
else in the world: a democratic, autonomous, responsi- 
ble professional body, eager for the advancement and 
maintenance of professional standards and professional 
competency. Its success has been extraordinary, 
considering the poorness of the material, the shortness 
of the time, and the straitness of the circumstances, 
yet the thing to be expected, considering its autonomy 
and responsibility. Behind it was the awakened 
national morale of the Jewry of Palestine, aflame over 
the assault upon the spiritual integrity of their one 
truly national institution. In a certain sense the Pales- 
tinian language-struggle was the first pitched battle of 
the Great War. It was a true and essential confron- 
tation of the ideals of imperialism and democracy, 
and in that confrontation democracy was completely 



WHAT the line of development for the Jewish 
communities in Palestine would have been if the war 
had not intervened is a fairly simple inference. Ad- 
ministrative foresight was not looking very far ahead 
nor very far around. The policy of "economic penetra- 
tion, " in the shape of more or less experimental colonies, 
private industries, and such small fry, would have been 
carried on, in a manner more or less desultory and 
by methods more or less lackadaisical. The policy 
of "cultural' development would have been carried 
on energetically and aggressively though not efficiently. 
The Eleventh Congress, which met in 1913, authorized 
the project of a national Hebrew University, and the 
multiplication of Hebrew periodicals — verse, fiction, 
criticism, scientific monographs and textbooks — was 
a foregone conclusion. But the war intervened. And 
the war, even if it turn out not to have been a momen- 
tous readjustment in the history of the world, was con- 
spicuously the most momentous event in the history of 
the Zionist movement, and through that, in the history 
of the Jewish people. 

Its first effect upon this history was to bring into 
the foreground of Jewish activity and aspiration the 
Jewish community in America. 

The story of this community is a modern instance so 



typical of responsiveness and social adaptability in an 
ethnic group that it of itself merits more than a glance. 
But the status and function of the Jews of America 
in the solution of the Jewish problem are of a character 
that make a review of their story indispensable. 

The earliest Jewish settlers in the United States were 
of Spanish and Portuguese origin. They came from 
the West Indies. In religion they were of the Sephardic 
sect. They settled in cities like New York, Newport, 
and Charleston, their settlement dating back nearly 
300 years. Small in number and prosperous in their 
commercial and other enterprises, they soon made a 
place for themselves in the greater colonial communities, 
in spite of religious differences and certain exclusions. 
Their contacts with non-Jews were social as well as 
commercial and before long extended to the intimate 
relationship of marriage and a common life. Of 
necessity a decreasing community, they made up in 
the progressive rigour of their synagogal discipline 
for the increasing lability of their members. They 
played their part in the enterprise of the Revolution, 
contributing their quota in both men and money, 
in money very significantly indeed. 

The place they established as Americans they 
guarded jealously. When between '36 and '60 a 
new type of Jew began to enter the United States in 
large numbers, they drew a class line as rigid and as 
bitter as any drawn in America by the older settlers 
against newcomers. They acknowledged the unity 
of stock and religion between themselves and the 
immigrant Jews from Germany, but admitted no other 
sort of unity. The German Jews were good enough 
to act as their clerks, their servants, and their depen- 


dents, but no more. The notion that they might be- 
come their rivals was inadmissible. The German 
Jews, however, soon began enormously to outnumber 
the original Spanish and Portuguese Jewish communi- 
ties. Differences in origin and in economic status, 
reinforced by the coordinate sectarian differences, 
generated a community warfare, partly conscious, 
mostly unconscious, in which, as was inevitable, the 
numbers were decisive. To-day the American Sephar- 
dic communities of the United States are on the whole 
negligible, and those which have survived with any- 
thing like the power and distinction which invested 
them in the beginning have survived by virtue of the 
fact that instead of fighting out the class war to the 
bitter end, they admitted the German Jews to an 
equality with themselves and assimilated them instead 
of being assimilated by them. Such are the communi- 
ties which survive in Philadelphia and in New York. 
The admission meant that a generation of Jewish 
immigrants from Germany had under free conditions 
achieved the same kind of adaptation to the larger 
social environment as the original Sephardic Jews. 
It meant that they had become full-fledged Americans, 
men of influence, wealth, and power, leaders in the 
community. Their attaining of prosperity and of 
the full status of the American Jew was marked most 
distinctly by the Reform movement in the synagogue. 
This movement operated in the United States as else- 
where. It abolished the essential basis of communal 
life which most of all served to distinguish the Jew in 
association with the Jew as against the Jew in associa- 
tion with the Gentile. The way of living got changed 
from Jewish to non- Jewish. Pig-flesh and shell-fish 


were admitted into the household, and intermarriage, 
while ecclesiastically discouraged, was, on the whole, 
not prohibited. Hebrew was almost completely elimi- 
nated from the synagogue ritual. The prayer and 
the liturgy gave way to the sermon, and the status 
of the rabbi changed from that of an arbitrator of all 
matters in the daily life to that of a teacher and con- 
servator of religious dogma. 

By the time the first large mass of east European 
Jews began to enter the United States, the Jews of 
German origin had acquired the same relation to the 
country as the Jews of Sephardic origin. They had 
become the de facto heads and elders of the Jewish 
community, the inevitable middle term between the 
newcomers and the American order of life. To the 
newcomers, nothing could have been more foreign 
than the American order of life. In the countries 
from which they came they had been living, it must 
be remembered, under mediaeval conditions — without 
status before the law, without rights and without duties 
as citizens, and without any legal claim that they 
could compel the government to make good. "Mediae- 
val" is the only word that could signalize their status. 
And under mediaeval conditions the position of any 
Jewish community anywhere in the world had de- 
pended exclusively on the good-will of a single indi- 
vidual or of a small group of such individuals. These 
might at any time in God's name let loose or restrain 
the populace, as they chose. Contact between the 
Jews and Gentile arbiters of their destiny could never 
be established directly. It had to be made through 
a third party, a go-between for whom the Jews had the 
special name of Sh'tadlan. The ShHadlan was some- 


times a banker, sometimes a merchant of great wealth, 
sometimes a physician — any person who had achieved 
importance in the eyes of the Gentile oppressor, and who 
could win his ear. Such a person could sometimes fore- 
stall a pogrom or an auto-da-fe by climbing back stairs 
and bribing safety and consideration. It was natural and 
inevitable that such a person should become the literal 
"boss" of the Jewish community, and should direct 
its policy and dictate its conduct within and without. 
His role was, in fact, to be the saviour of the community, 
actual or potential; to be its only effective reassuring 
link with the world outside — and hence, its master. 

Now the relation of any immigrant group to the 
civilization of a new country whose institutions and 
language are different from anything that its members 
ever knew is not unlike that of the mediaeval Jew or 
of the contemporary east European Jew toward the 
larger community of which he is a part. The immi- 
grant of any stock is in extreme need of a mediator 
between himself and his environment, a mediator who 
shall bridge the differences and establish some sort of 
communion that may ease and simplify the mere 
business of living. This was particularly true of the 
Jew, for the Jew was regarded alien in a double sense: 
he was regarded alien because he came from another 
country with quite different institutions and ideals, and 
he was regarded alien because he was denied a share 
even in the institutions and ideals of that other country. 
To him government was necessarily identical with 
oppression, the policeman with bribery, the civil 
officer with petty tyranny. He was met in America 
by his fellow- Jew of German origin. This fellow- Jew 
served as a miraculously ready God-sent Sh'tadlan. 


The necessities of adaptation to the new conditions 
required a go-between and on the whole, the Jews 
were more fortunate than the immigrants of other 
stocks in that they found this go-between ready made, 
of their own blood and religion. On the other hand, 
the existence of the go-between meant the reinforcement 
and continuation of the mediaeval tradition. The 
attitude of the German Jew toward the east European 
Jew became spontaneously the attitude of the mediaeval 
and east European Sh'tadlan toward the Jewish 
community. American Jews of German origin as- 
sumed, as was natural, complete responsibility for their 
Eastern brethren. They became their spokesmen, 
they defined their politics for them, they looked after 
their physical and intellectual needs, they "American- 
ized" them, and they despised them cordially. 

The first step was to insure against their ever 
becoming public burdens. To do this the German 
Jew organized and elaborated systematic benevolent 
agencies which have been models of "scientific charity' 
and have had a large influence in giving direction to 
the progress of charitable organization in the United 
States. In the second place, they gave them employ- 
ment. When the Eastern Jews began to enter the 
United States in large numbers, certain industries, 
most particularly the needle trades, were almost ex- 
clusively in the hands of the German Jews; the Eastern 
Jews were employed in sweat shops and kept by the evil 
devices of unregenerate employers on starvation wages, 
to be saved from starvation by the charity of these same 

As for the possibility of any other relationship, 
social or cultural, between the two types of Jewish 


communities, this was not even admitted. From the 
point of view of the German Jew, the Russian Jew was 
good enough to be exploited in the shops, at the polls, 
to be spoken for in public and rather scorned and dis- 
liked in private. It used to be impossible, for example, 
for a Russian Jew to gain admission into a German- 
Jewish fraternal order like the B'nai Brith. It used to 
be impossible for a Russian Jew to acquire membership 
in a German Jewish synagogue or a social club. The 
sectarian difference between reform and orthodox Juda- 
ism was even greater and marked a greater social gulf 
than the sectarian differences between the originalSeph- 
ardim and Ashkenazim, these being the two prevailing 
brands of orthodoxy. All this, nevertheless, the first 
generation of Eastern Jews seem to have accepted as 
natural, as inevitable, as proper, and with gratitude. 

But a generation of living in America, even such an 
America as was New York City, meant inevitably 
the " Americanization' : of the east European Jew. 
The mere pressure of American political institutions 
gave this Jew a new sense of his relation to the Govern- 
ment. He found himself free and civically responsible. 
He found himself participating in the business of the 
Government. He found himself called upon to de- 
termine with his ballot who shall govern him and what 
the policy of government shall be, not only of his city 
and his state, but of his nation also. However blindly 
the masses found themselves in their citizenship, its 
effect on their attitude toward government has been 
marked in the extraordinary independence of what is 
called the Jewish vote. In the field of business, trade, 
and manufacture, the natural initiative of the east 
European Jew soon changed him from an employee 


into a rival of his German co-religionist. His restive- 
ness under injustice made him the initiator of the Trade 
Union movement in his particular field, and brought 
to his employer the first realization of the possibility 
that the Russian Jew might be a competitor and an 
opponent as well as a servant. A far-reaching economic 
rivalry developed which lasted over a generation, 
until finally one industry at least is now as compre- 
hensively Russian Jewish as it had been formerly Ger- 
man Jewish, and the enterprise of the Russian Jew has 
spread into a great many other regions. In fact, the 
signal growth of New York City — where every fourth 
person is said to be a Jew — begins with the first great 
immigration of Russian Jews in the year 1882. 

A generation of American life brought prosperity 
and independence to the newcomers. With the coming 
of independence and prosperity, the caste war became 
intensified. The later comers began to go more and 
more on their own. To meet the exclusion from the 
earlier fraternal orders, they organized new fraternal 
orders like the Brith Abraham and the Brith Shalom. 
They organized their own "orthodox" charities, and 
their wealth gave them a place on the charity boards 
of the earlier American Jews. Their wealth, further- 
more, stimulated their social ambitions and they began 
to pass from orthodox to reform synagogues, ceasing 
thereby to be "Russian" and becoming "German" 
Jews. The difference to-day between orthodox and 
reform Judaism, apart from dietetic and a few other 
habits of life, is in large part a difference in nothing 
so much as in economic status. The dogmas of the 
two Churches are in what theologians would call es- 
sential matters the same, but the Orthodox Church is 


with few exceptions the church of the poor, and the 
Reform Church is the church of the rich and the well- 

This encroachment of the newer community met 
with a deepening if reflexive resistance on the part of 
the older community. As the economic and other 
differences grew less, the social differences received 
greater emphasis. The "German" Jews found them- 
selves after a while in the same position with reference 
to the "Russian" Jews as the Sephardim had been 
with reference to them. The encroachment of the 
"Russians" upon the privileges of the "Germans" 
meant two things: on the one side, a combination of 
interests; and on the other, a sharper drawing of social 
and other lines. The combination of interests sprang 
from one fact among others that young "Russian" 
lads flocked in large numbers into the professions and 
became eligible husbands for young "German' 1 girls. 
The second basis turned on the weight of economic 
similarity itself. Capitalists are compelled by the 
interests of capital to cooperate, and the "Germaniza- 
tion" of the prosperous "Russian' 1 was an effect of 
his economic prosperity. It meant that a section 
of the original east European Jewish group was slowly 
getting detached and infiltrating the community of 
earlier settlers. It meant, furthermore, that the 
numerical strength of the "Russian" Jews would soon 
compel a reversal of the process and that the assimila- 
tion of the "German" Jew to the "Russian" Jew, like 
the assimilation of the Sephardim to the 'German ,: 
Jew, was a foregone conclusion. 

Whether this process was consciously realized or un- 
derstood by the protagonists of the two classes is doubt- 


fill. What was noticeable in the years between 1900 
and 1914 was an increasing osmosis of these classes, 
and an attempted tightening of the lines on the part 
of the earlier, more "assimilated" class in direct pro- 
portion to the osmotic pressure. 

In the meantime, a permanent proletarian mass came 
to self-consciousness under the influence of two forces. 
One was the spread of the labour movement which in 
the Ghetto had a Socialist theory of life and labour to 
envisage it, a theory propagated by many of the most 
intellectual of the immigrant classes and articulated 
in a notorious, powerful Yiddish newspaper. The other 
was the Zionist movement. 

The movement had been marked, on the whole, 
with an international outlook and economic vision 
analogous to that of the Socialist movement. It 
had shown itself, however, far more sensitive to the 
facts of life. Conceiving society as a collection of 
group individualities, each of which is entitled to the 
free and equal fulfilment of its life and the attainment 
of its happiness, it argued its cause in terms of a vision 
of society as a great family of nationalities carrying 
on the enterprises of civilization cooperatively, each 
contributing to the others according to its nature and 
power. It asked particularly for the Jewish people, 
a majority of whom are oppressed and outlawed, the 
opportunity which all other people have for themselves. 
And it asked this opportunity in Palestine, the original 
homeland of the people, fixed through the usage of 
religion and the immemorial idealism of the race as 
the goal of Jewish endeavour and suffering throughout 
history. Zionism was calculated to make a closer 
appeal to the masses of the Jews in America because 


it invoked instincts, memories, attitudes, which were 
hereditary and had been passed on through the genera- 
tions. Its appeal, in a word, was internal while the 
appeal of Socialism was external. The individual of no 
nationality, particularly not the individual of the 
Jewish nationality, conceives himself as necessarily 
and inevitably a member of an economic class. It is 
precisely for this reason that the Jews in America have 
turned out to be at one and the same time such con- 
spicuous protagonists of the Socialist movement al- 
though they seem to have understood its protestant 
better than its constructive spirit, and such thoroughly 
Americanized trade-unionists, undertakers, captains 
of industry, and financiers. 

Socialism and Zionism, added to the new self- 
consciousness as citizens which the immigrant genera- 
tion had acquired, gave the Jewish masses a point 
of departure and a programme. For many years 
neither the point of departure nor the programme was 
conscious. They were there, but as potentialities, 
and the daily life of labourer and shopkeeper went on 
undisturbed. The Socialist continued the Yiddish 
formulation of his internationalist Marxian dogma. 
The Zionist continued the Yiddish and Hebrew 
formulation of his nationalist doctrine. Both were 
of the Ghetto — in temper, manner, and adequacy. 
Both were old- worldly. The protagonists of both 
were men and women of European background and 
European training; the followers of both were mainly 
of the first generation of immigrants from the older 
world. Both were more or less irrelevant to the 
problems and expanses of American life. They went 
on, only tangent to that, or at best wordy compensa- 


tions for its restrictions, ridicules, and strangeness. 
They functioned in the life of the Ghetto communities 
of America like tunes sung at the machine, or in hospital 
when the patient's discomfort is so great that he whistles 
to keep up his courage. 

Because of rapid changes caused by industry in the 
structure of American economic life, Socialism emerged 
first from irrelevancy and foreignness, from the Ghetto 
of speech and intellectual preoccupation, and its devo- 
tees found themselves at last organized and defined 
upon the arena of American political and social life, 
as American Socialists of Yiddish speech, denying 
and repudiating their Jewish connection and its implica- 
tion in behalf of the fellowship of labour the world 
over, but particularly in America. They often had 
great sport abusing the Zionists, and the Zionists had 
great sport abusing them. 

The latter emerged from their irrelevancy only with 
the coming of the war in 1914. Until that time, the 
American Zionist Organization numbered a handful. 
Its members were journalists, intellectuals, shop- 
keepers, and more or less skilled workmen. Their 
spirit and outlook and methods were of the tradition 
of the European Ghettoes from which they had come. 
Their centre was the lower east side of New York. 
Their relations with Jews of American nativity, training, 
and vision were of the slightest. Their organization 
had been headed by such a Jew, Richard Gottheil, 
a professor of Semi tics at Columbia University. Such 
a Jew was its founder and has served them as the first 
secretary of their federation — Stephen Wise, now the 
foremost rabbi of the Reformed sect; foremost both 
for the distinction of his pulpit and his role in public 


life. A few such Jews were enrolled in the membership 
— mostly university men, teachers or students, moved 
to affiliation by an ancestral sympathy or by a greater 
knowledge of the nature of nationality, its relation 
to the Jews, to internationalism, and to the problem 
in Europe than was the concern or the fortune of most 
of the American population. 

These intellectuals were almost exclusively of the 
same extraction as the rank and file of the Zionists. 
The "German" Jews, the ''American" Jews, i. e., the 
well-to-do Jews, were not to be counted among them. 
As in Europe, Zionism was an object of suspicion and 
attack on the part of these classes. Their spokesmen, 
preeminently the rabbis of the Reformed sect, assaulted 
the movement in America with even more vigour and 
vindictiveness than did their confreres in Europe, 
with indeed an added intensity of resentment, because 
of its secularism. Reformed Judaism in America 
being most sleek and prosperous, made a great deal 
more than its analogue in Europe of "the mission 
of Israel," insisted a great deal more upon the notion 
that the great Jehovah designed his chosen people to be 
scattered among the nations, a "priest people" charged 
with the task of manifesting "pure ethical monotheism" 
to the Gentile neighbour. The wealthier and the more 
secularized the congregation, the louder was its rabbi 
in his insistence on its religious spirituality, its univer- 
salism, and its mission, and the bitterer was he in his 
denunciation of Zionism. Controversy took about the 
same course in America as it did in Europe, with the 
difference that the men on the Zionist side who engaged 
in it, being farther from the problem-in-crisis than their 
European fellows, formulated the positions involved 


with an eye to the general psychological and social 
situation in Europe. This tended to do violence to 
the feeling common among Jews of all classes regarding 
the uniqueness and peculiarity of themselves and their 
problem. It tended to assimilate the Jewish question 
into the general complexus of the nationalistic and 
libertarian strivings of nineteenth-century Europe 
and caused some disturbance among the Zionists 
themselves. The American Zionist view tended, in 
a word, to crystallize in a formulation of the Jewish 
position less partisan, more scientific, more historical 
and sociological than formulations made at the seat of 
the Jewish problem-in-crisis in central Europe, and 
the American Zionist tended toward an attitude less 
ardent, more contemplative, and more businesslike 
than that of the European. There was natural resent- 
ment against this attitude on the part of the Europeans. 
They accused their American comrades of being not 
"really" Zionists, of being superficial, ignorant, un- 
caring. They made fun of the Americans' insight, 
joked about their Zionist competency, and treated them 
like the proverbial rich parvenu. "You provide the 
money," was the tenor of their attitude, "we will pro- 
vide the rest." On the other hand, the American 
formulation of the Zionist position won in America 
the respectful attention and in the course of time the 
sympathy and then the adherence of one after another 
of the more distinguished Americans both of Jewish 
and non- Jewish extraction. 

Among these was Louis Dembitz Brandeis, now an 
Associate Justice of the Supreme Court of the United 
States. By birth a Kentuckian, by education a Eu- 
ropean, by training and vocation a lawyer, and by 


personal habit an ascetic, his history was even more 
uncomplicated by Jewish connections than Herzl's. 
They simply did not enter into his own problems, and 
what he had seen of Jews in the practice of his profes- 
sion had not induced him to seek out such connections. 
There was, however, in his inheritance a strain of mys- 
ticism, mediaeval in articulateness and intensity. 
In his uncle, Louis Dembitz, of Louisville, Kentucky, 
for whom he had been named, this showed itself as a 
scrupulous observance of the Shulchan Aruch and a 
visionary Zionism of the Messianic type. In Brandeis 
it took form as a passion for democracy and social 
justice which rendered him the protagonist of one 
fight after another against exploiters of the public, and 
earned him the cognomen, "the people's lawyer." 
Indeed, it was largely as a tribune of the people that 
he functioned in the years before his acceptance of the 
judgeship, fighting often alone and single-handed 
against sinister corporate and political interests of 
enormous power, influence, and unscrupulousness, who 
to beat him hesitated at no stratagem, even the libelling 
of his character and the murdering of his professional 
reputation. The completeness of their defeat and his 
victory is a matter of record, but the struggle could not 
have failed to leave its mark upon him. To the prophet- 
like truculency of his temperament and the passion- 
ate humanitarianism of his outlook there accrued a 
rigidity which at times gave his really distinguished 
powers of analysis and judgment a twist of advocacy, 
and the charge often levelled against him by his enemies 
that he was incapable of easily giving due weight to 
the claims or justice of the opposition is not without 
its basis in the record. His powers showed themselves to 


be logical rather than persuasive, and his extraordinary 
influence is due far more to the force of his intellect and 
his uncompromising honesty than to his understanding 
of men's hearts. He is no politician. His leadership and 
power rest on an uncanny perception of the concrete im- 
plications of events rendered potent by a consuming 
passion for righteousness. It is this at bottom that led 
him to Zionism. In Brandeis, for the first time in the his- 
tory of this movement anywhere, a truly national figure, 
a man of affairs as well as of vision, enrolled himself defi- 
nitely in the Zionist Organization. This occurred in 1910 
or 1911. Nothing formal or public was made of his 
adhesion, and its manifestations were mainly contribu- 
tions to the treasury and sympathetic understanding. 

His call to leadership came with the war. On 
August 1, 1914, the headquarters of the International 
Zionist Organization was in Berlin, that city being 
the home of many of its officers and within easy reach 
of many others. After August 3, 1914, the Interna- 
tional Zionist Organization practically ceased to have 
a headquarters. Its officers and members became 
officially and in effect enemies, no longer able to meet 
for counsel or action, and to the anxious watchers of that 
anxious period no longer likely to meet. The Jewish 
national interest seemed about to be lost by default. 

Under the circumstances the officers of the American 
Federation of Zionists, at the instigation of Dr. 
Schmarja Lewin, took the initiative. They called, 
and on August 30, 1914, held in New York, an ex- 
traordinary conference of Zionists from all over the 
country. This conference, which sat for two days, 
created the Provisional Executive Committee for 
General Zionist Affairs, with Louis D. Brandeis as 


chairman and Stephen S. Wise as vice-chairman and 
eventually Jacob de Haas, who had been an intimate 
of Herzl's, as secretary. Associated with them were men 
like the distinguished humanitarian and philanthropist, 
Nathan Straus, the jurists Felix Frankfurter and Julian 
W. Mack, the financier, Eugene Meyer, and many others 
not formerly connected with Zionism. 

Immediately a new spirit began to manifest itself 
not only in the organization, but in American Jewry 
at large. The election of Brandeis to the leadership 
turned the Zionist movement in America from an 
incident of Ghetto aspiration into a force to be counted 
with in Jewish communal life. It challenged prestige 
and prerogative in established interests in the American 
Jewish community. It disputed authority, it gave 
point and direction to the communal unrest of American 
Jewry of east and central European origin and back- 
ground. The old issues were raised afresh and rede- 
bated in the new setting created by the great civil war 
in Europe in which the Jewish people of eastern 
Europe were at once made the victims of both the 
belligerents. Laymen as well as rabbis addressed 
themselves to the fray, and 'universal Judaism'' 
and "the mission of Israel' : were fulminated against 
Zionism from a hundred pulpits. 

In the course of the controversy, which was an in- 
cident to far more practical issues, Brandeis took 
occasion to state in unmistakable terms his under- 
standing of the view of the American Zionists regarding 
the Jewish problem and its solution. He demonstrated 
more forcefully than it had ever been demonstrated 
before the futility of trying to evade the problem 
by definition. "Councils of rabbis," he wrote, "and 


others have undertaken at times to prescribe by defi- 
nition that only those shall be deemed Jews who pro- 
fessedly adhere to the orthodox or Reformed faith. 
But in the connection in which we are considering the 
term, it is not in the power of any single body of Jews — 
or indeed of all Jews collectively — to establish the 
effective definition. The meaning of the word Jewish 
in the term Jewish Problem must be accepted as 
coextensive with the disabilities which it is our problem 
to remove. It is the non-Jews who create the dis- 
abilities and in so doing give definition to the term 
Jew. These disabilities extend substantially to all 
of Jewish blood. They do not end with a renunciation 
of faith, however sincere. They do not end with the 
elimination, however complete, of external Jewish 
mannerisms. The disabilities do not end ordinarily 
until the Jewish blood has been so thoroughly diluted 
by repeated intermarriages as to result in practically 
obliterating the Jew." That also persons of Jewish 
blood recognize this situation as a constant factor in 
their setting and react to it thus is shown furthermore 
in the behaviour of even the most de-Judaized Jew. 
It is a behaviour that acknowledges the claim of the 
group, and willy-nilly takes an interest in its fortunes. 
The Jewish problem, consequently, is the problem first 
of securing for the members of this group, distributively 
and collectively, "the same rights and opportunities 
enjoyed by non-Jews," and, second, of securing to the 
world 'the full contribution which Jews can make if 
unhampered by artificial limitations." 

Liberalism, through which, at the beginning of the 
last century, it was hoped both these ends should be 
realized, had failed. Anti-Semitism remained, "univer- 


sal and endemic," and the Jewish Problem, with all the 
diversities between the conditions that determine its 
manifestation, remains one and the same. The failure 
of liberalism is coincident with the oppression of na- 
tionality: "enlightened countries grant to the individual 
equality before the law; but they fail to recognize 
the equality of whole peoples or nationalities. We 
seek to protect as individuals those constituting a 
minority, but we fail to realize that protection cannot 
be complete unless group equality also is recognized." 
The Zionist movement is dedicated to the consumma- 
tion of this recognition for the Jews. It is a movement 
essentially "to give the Jew more, not less, freedom; it 
aims to enable the Jews to exercise the same right now 
exercised by practically every people in the world — to 
live at their option either in the land of their fathers or 
in some other country; a right which Irish, Greek, 
Bulgarian, Servian, or Belgian may now exercise as 
fully as Germans or English." The struggle for this 
right, involving as it must and does the recovery of 
group self-respect and the revitalization of the tradi- 
tion and idealism of the fathers, is the chief, perhaps 
the only bulwark against the demoralization which 
Jews have, since the French Revolution, been under- 
going in America and Europe both, and which yields 
an excuse to the anti-Semite. "The sole bulwark 
against demoralization is to develop in each new gene- 
ration of Jews in America the sense of noblesse oblige, a 
sense which can be best developed by actively partici- 
pating in some way in furthering the ideals of the 
Jewish renaissance; and this can be done effectively 
only through furthering the Zionist movement." 

Zionism, thus, is in Brandeis's view, the salvation 


of the Jew who elects to build his life elsewhere than in 
Zion, no less than of the Jew who chooses the destiny 
of a Judsean. And not merely this. Zionism is 
demanded as well in the interest of all mankind. The 
satisfaction of these interests is possible only through 
organization. " Organize, ' : Brandeis urged, "in the 
first place so that the world may have proof of the 
extent and intensity of our desire for liberty. Organize 
in the second place so that our resources may become 
known and be made available. But in mobilizing 
our forces it will not be for war. The whole world 
longs for the solution of the Jewish Problem. We 
have but to lead the way, and we may be sure of ample 
cooperation from non-Jews. In order to lead the way 
we need not arms, but men; men with those qualities 
for which Jews should be peculiarly fitted by reason 
of their religion and life, men of courage, of high intelli- 
gence, of faith and public spirit, of indomitable will and 
ready self-sacrifice; men who will both think and do; who 
will devote high abilities to shaping our course and over- 
coming the many obstacles which must from time to time 
arise. Organization, thorough and complete, can alone 
develop such men and the necessary support." 

"Organize, organize, organize, until every Jew in 
America must stand up and be counted — counted with 
us — or prove himself wittingly or unwittingly of the 
few who are against their own people." 

The new leader's statement of this position and 
this programme was made early in 1915. It was soon 
condensed into the slogan: "Men, Money, Discipline," 
that furnished the objectives of the vitalized fellowship 
of American Zionists. All three of these were critically 
wanted at the outset. Time has not lessened the need. 


There was, of course, nothing new in the call to 
organization. It had been made many times before, 
and innumerable projects had been advanced to 
accomplish it. The novelty in this call was the fact 
that it was effective. It was effective because, at 
last, circumstances and the man adequate to their 
control were at hand together. The European war 
had created a crisis not only in the affairs of the Zion- 
ists but in the affairs of all the Jews of the European 
continent. There had been crises before, but there 
had never been before the conjunction of the crisis 
with the leader whose courage, v/hose faith in democracy, 
and whose organizing power could mobilize and bring 
into useful action the will of Jewry to meet the crisis. 
The lack of such a leader in 1905-06 had created a situa- 
tion which rendered the solution of the problem of 
effective organization particularly difficult. It was in 
1906 that American Jews became acutely aware of 
the need for united endeavour on their part, in behalf 
of the Russian Jews. The occasion was the Russian 
pogroms of 1905-06. These pogroms rendered the 
chronic Jewish problem once more critical in the minds 
of all American Jews. The need of their brethren on 
the other side called for cooperative action and the 
action was naturally initiated by the traditional leaders 
of the Jewish community. They created relief agencies 
and called for contributions. The response of the 
community was enormous, and when the need had 
passed, the relief agencies organized ad hoc found them- 
selves with a large sum of money on their hands. 

The situation which had brought the contribution of 
that money had called the attention of the leaders to the 
precarious character of the position of the Jews in 


eastern Europe and to the need of a permanent agency 
of relief and protection which should meet such crises 
forehanded when they arose. That they would again 
arise was recognized on all sides. The agency there- 
upon formed was the American Jewish Committee. 
It was formed, after some discussion of the pros and 
cons of a possible democratic organization, in terms 
purely oligarchical, with a view only to the probable 
prestige and power of its controlling members rather 
than to their representative character. Democratic 
organization was regarded as impracticable, and it was 
felt that the intentions of the Committee rather than 
the seat of its authority was the thing that mattered. 
This feeling seemed, at the time, of necessity justifiable. 
The gentlemen on the American Jewish Committee, 
men like the late Jacob H. SchifT, Mr. Louis Marshall, 
Judge Mayer Sulzberger, had been for many years the 
natural, apparently the inevitable, spokesmen for the 
whole Jewish citizenry of the United States. They 
were renowned for good works, for generosity, and a 
genuine concern for the welfare and Americanization 
of their fellow Jews. The committee which they 
organized was acclaimed. Its leadership was accepted 
without question, and its service as the Sh'tadlan 
between the unripened immigrant communities and 
the nation as a whole regarded as natural and gen- 
erous. This service, designated in a charter of incor- 
poration, was multifold and varied, not always wise — ■ 
as in the case of its agitation during the Taf t Adminis- 
tration for the denunciation of the Russian treaty — 
but always motivated by humanitarian ideals of 
citizenship and brotherhood. 

In the meantime, however, the self-consciousness of 


the Jewish masses was becoming intensified. The 
impact of American institutions and conditions showed 
itself in new arrangements and groupings of the Jews, 
in a new intellectual and social vigour which is attested 
by the periodical literature of the interval. The whole 
change may be called indifferently Americanization 
or secularization. So far as the internal affairs of 
the Jewish community were concerned, it showed 
itself in a growing resentment against the tutelage of 
the traditional ShHadlanic leadership. Again and again 
it was expressed in bitter criticism of the American 
Jewish Committee and in proposals for some form of 
"representative" community government. 

With the European war these proposals were turned 
into demands, insistent, passionate, poignant. As 
slowly the news of the atrocities perpetrated on the 
non-combatant Jewish masses during 1914-15 by 
the Tsarist armies and by their Polish fellow-subjects 
even more than by the Teutonic enemy, filtered through 
the censorship, a tremendous wave of feeling swept 
the Jewry of America. This feeling called for more 
than merely financial relief. The passion which 
fathers and mothers, wives and children, brothers and 
sisters, were undergoing at the hands of those who 
should have been their protectors could not be remedied 
merely by money. The community cried for something 
which should be done collectively, and which would 
make a recurrence of such conditions impossible. 
This blind feeling and inarticulate cry crystallized 
into a philosophy of group-solidarity and group- 
responsibility in the conception of a democratically 
constituted congress of American Jews. It was a 
chief item in the emergency programme adopted by 


the Extraordinary Zionist Conference of August 30, 
1914. It was the foremost concern of a group of vari- 
ous influential associations in the east European 
Jewish community in the United States. As the jour- 
nals of the period show, it was a notion that met with 
universal approval among the masses of Jews. It 
was a notion that precipitated and enchanneled the 
feeling, relieved the accumulated uneasiness, clarified 
the mind, and gave some assurance to the faith of the 
people. It was a notion that precisely for this reason 
unsettled the old leaders and filled them with uneasi- 
ness and resentment. 

In New York a group of men, mostly journalists very 
close to the pulse of the emotion and thought of the 
masses, waited on the executives of the American 
Jewish Committee and appealed to them to take the 
initiative, as was proper and good, in calling a congress. 
In the attitude of the American Jewish Committee 
toward this request, there became apparent the pro- 
found fission and the caste war in the community. The 
members of the Committee distrusted the rank and 
file. They were afraid of the publicity. They were 
afraid of having their "Americanism" impugned. One 
of them who had publicly denounced a Russian loan, 
stated that the Congress must not be held because 
some poor, anonymous devil of a radical might say 
something about the Tsarist Government which would 
then have a very bad effect upon the fate of the Jews 
in Russia. Others brought analogous objections. The 
class as a whole, as may be gathered from the texts of 
periodicals like the American Hebrew and the various 
weeklies edited by rabbis of the Reform sect, show dis- 
trust of democracy, fear of frankness, a consciousness 


of moral and social insecurity; show themselves living 
under the dread of anti-Semitism. They insisted that 
whatever could be done, could be done quietly, by 
wire pulling, by use of the influence of individuals, by 
the back-stairs method of the Stitadlan of the Middle 
Ages and of the Russian Ghetto. 

The issue was joined with recriminations on both 
sides. The Zionist programme, the Zionists having 
been with the radical leaders in the Congress movement, 
became an item of contention. It was argued that 
the Zionists were trying to create the Congress for their 
own purposes. It was retorted that there was a pro- 
German bias in the American Jewish Committee. 
All sorts of things were argued. But the one thing 
which was really fundamental in the quarrel over the 
Congress was the fact that it was a struggle between 
Americanism and medievalism, between a democra- 
tized Jewry and a traditional Jewish oligarchy. 
This struggle, old as the Jewish community, had finally 
been precipitated in the Congress issue and was being 
fought out to the end. One great Jewish organization 
after another — fraternal order, synagogue, cultural 
society, and so on — declared adherence to the Congress 
movement. Nothing was so conspicuous as the fact 
that it was a self-conscious mass movement, with 
democratic postulates and programme. 

Complications developed, however, in connection 
with what was technically known — only technically — as 
the "labour' 5 group. The character of the Jewish 
workingmen has been such that the Jewish labour 
class and the Jewish labour organization tended to be 
of a very unstable composition. There is hardly a 
union which retains a moiety of the same membership 


seven years running. The only part of any union 
or other form of association of workingmen that tends 
to be permanent is the paid administrative organiza- 
tion, that is, the group of "labour leaders." This 
fact adds to the existing economic classes a new class 
having a curious and a distinct set of interests as be- 
tween the labourers as such and the capitalists as such. 
This is the class of the labour leader — not the actual 
heads of unions — but the journalistic theorists who 
are professional labourites and who manage the affairs 
of the non-industrial, beneficial associations of working- 
men. Although these workingmen's groups had given 
their officials a mandate to participate in the movement 
of the organization of a democratic congress, the 
leaders, considering their own biases and interests, 
interpreted the mandate to suit themselves, and dick- 
ered with the American Jewish Committee. The result 
was a split alignment within the labour groups and 
dissension whose tendency is toward complete division. 
Apart from that, the Congress movement swept the 
country. There was established a Congress Organiza- 
tion Committee, of which Mr. Justice Brandeis was 
made the honorary head. Plans for organization 
were set in motion. The Organization Committee 
made every effort to come to some agreement with 
the American Jewish Committee and its allied groups, 
most of them under its control. When it seemed that 
popular sentiment was overwhelmingly in favour of 
the Congress movement, the American Jewish Com- 
mittee conceded the democratic plans, and that con- 
stitutes the fundamental victory for modernism in 
Jewish communal life in America. But the concession 
of principle and its application in action are two differ- 


ent things. The Congress Committee, in spite of 
prolonged negotiations, found that it could come to no 
adjustment with the American Jewish Committee. 
Finally, it gave up trying, and called a conference of 
all the great Jewish organizations of the country in 
Philadelphia on March 26, 1916. The delegates 
to that conference represented from a million and a 
half to two million Jewish souls, from all classes of 
society. They sat for two days and formulated a 
programme which received the endorsement and ap- 
proval of many officials of the Government of the 
United States, notably the Secretary of War. 

The Philadelphia programme involved considera- 
tion not only of the issues brought into the foreground 
by the war, but of the perennial problems of which 
the Jewish question is constituted. It aimed to provide 
for a permanent organization of American Jewry on a 
democratic basis, for a consideration of the questions 
and problems of migration, and so on. The character 
of the Conference and its programme were hailed 
with enthusiastic approval all over the country. The 
commissions and committees the programme called 
for were appointed and set to work. Particularly 
interesting were the problems of the committees on 
Representation and Elections and on Permanency 
of Organization. But before these committees and 
the others had time to get under way, the effects of 
the Conference made themselves felt in the opposite 
camp, and resulted in their calling a conference which 
was to talk over the question of the Congress anew. 
That conference, which was called in July, 1916, was com- 
posed chiefly of the members of the American Jewish 
Committee and its allied organizations and of the 


Conference of Reform Rabbis. That conference also, 
though not without much division and bitterness, 
endorsed the Congress movement and opened negotia- 
tions with the new Congress Organization Committee 
established by the Philadelphia Conference, to find 
some modus vivendi. The first compromise involved 
the surrender of the democratic principle, and by ref- 
erendum was rejected. Finally, a second compromise 
was attained and submitted by the Congress Organiza- 
tion Committee to referendum. The result of the 
referendum was acceptance of the compromise. The 
compromise was then formulated as the call to the 
Congress, viz.: 

By virtue of the authority vested in us, as the Execu- 
tive Committee for an American Jewish Congress, the 
Jews of America are earnestly requested to select represen- 
tatives to an American Jewish Congress which shall meet 
exclusively for the purpose of defining methods whereby, 
in cooperation with the Jews of the world, full rights 
may be secured for the Jews of all lands and all laws dis- 
criminating against them may be abrogated. It being 
understood that the phrase "full rights" is deemed to 
include : 

1. Civil, religious, and political rights, and in addi- 
tion thereto 

2. Wherever the various peoples of any land are or 
may be recognized as having rights as such, the conferring 
upon the Jewish people of the land affected, of like rights, 
if desired by them, as determined by the Congress. 

3. The securing and protection of Jewish rights to 

4. The question of the economic reconstruction of the 
Jewish communities in the war zone. 

No resolution shall be introduced, considered, or acted 
upon at the Congress which shall in any way support 


or tend to commit the Congress as a body, or any of its 
delegates or any of the communities or organizations 
which shall be represented therein, to the adoption, 
recognition, or endorsement of any general theory or phi- 
losophy of Jewish life, or any theoretical principle of a 
racial, political, economic, or religious character, or which 
shall involve the perpetuation of such Congress. 

The calling and holding of the Congress shall in no 
manner affect the autonomy of any existing American 
Jewish organization, but in so far as the Executive Com- 
mittee selected by such a Congress shall take action for 
the securing of Jewish rights as defined in the Call for 
such Congress, the activities of such Executive Com- 
mittee shall, during the period of its existence, be re- 
garded as having precedence over those of any other 
organizations which shall participate in such Congress. 

The call exhibits more explicitly than anything else 
could the fear and animus of the old regime and the 
completeness of the victory of the new settlement. 
It shows how the Congress struggle was not merely 
a struggle between modernism — or Americanism — 
and medisevalism, but just as essentially a struggle 
between assimilationist individualism and self-respect- 
ing nationalism. For all practical purposes the 
latter was at the time completely victorious. The 
theories and philosophies and principles which were 
to be excluded from discussion were the unquestioned 
basis of action. They were this because action was 
not possible on any other basis. 

The agreement was reached on October 2, 1916. In 
the interim plans for representation and election had 
been worked out and these being confirmed by the 
new executive committee which the agreement ne- 
cessitated, the elections were held. Three hundred 


delegates were chosen by the popular vote of both 
men and women and one hundred more by the various 
Jewish organizations of national scope. With the 
elections, the rank and file of American Jewry passed 
into a new communal status. It is a status which has 
still to be made effective and which in all probability 
cannot be made effective without a great deal more 
extensive and far-reaching struggle between the strata 
of the Jewish population — a struggle that can be 
fought out in the last resort only on domestic issues. 
Meanwhile, a precedent of free and responsible common 
action for the rank and file of American Jewry — and 
through them for all Jewries — has been established. 
They have publicly debated Jewish issues as such. 
They have expressed their will at the polls regarding 
these issues. They have chosen their representatives 
to carry out their will. The assembling of these 
representatives as the American Jewish Congress was 
at first set for not later than May 1, 1917. But in 
April, 1917, the United States of America entered the 
war, and from that time on various circumstances in- 
tervened to postpone the holding of the Congress until 
December 15, 1918. 




BETWEEN October 2, 1916, and December 15, 
1918, the complexion of events had so changed as to 
require a fundamental alteration in the problems 
and attitude of the Congress. The Jews had become 
the supreme victims of the war. No people on the 
battlelines, except possibly the Armenians, suffered 
as the Jews had suffered. The war on the eastern front 
was being fought within the Jewish pale of settlement. 
The treachery and incompetency of the Russian bureauc- 
racy; the malice, intrigue, and disloyalty of the Poles; 
the brutality of the Germans were alike cloaked by 
means of charges and assaults against the Jews. More 
than 10 per cent, of the entire Jewish population of 
Europe was on the battlefield and more than 90 
per cent, of these were engaged in the armies of the 
Allies. But in eastern Europe it was their ironic 
fate that the battlefield should be nothing else than 
the Pale and that Jewish soldiers should battle for the 
Allies amid the familiar scenes of their own homes, 
should be required to burn and raze their own com- 
munities, should be compelled to stand by while fathers, 
sons, or brothers were executed on trumped-up charges 
and wives and sisters and mothers were raped and 
maimed and killed. Thousands went mad; other 



thousands committed suicide or were shot for insubor- 
dination. Their homes and families, meanwhile, were 
broken up; great masses of Jews were on various pre- 
texts uprooted, evacuated; their economic foundations 
were shattered and their lives were thrown under the 
dominion of fear. 

And the Jewries of western Europe were helpless 
to aid them. Aid was possible only from the Jews 
of America, during the first two years of the war the 
only neutral country with influence and resources 
great enough even to begin to meet the demands of 
Europe growing desolated. Amid the great work 
of relief done by the Americans, the work of the Ameri- 
can Jewish Relief Committee holds a distinguished 
place. Begun in 1914, it reached in the course of two 
years, under the impact of the signal generosity of 
Julius Rosenwald and the organizing power of Jacob 
Billikopf , unheard-of proportions in scope and organiza- 
tion and still seemed the work of trying to fill a bottom- 
less sack. The Jewish disaster had gone too deep to 
be amenable to merely relief measures. It had gone 
too deep to benefit even from the impulsion of the 
revitalized hopes, the resurgent ideals and promises of 
the Russian Revolution. To certain Jews, conspicu- 
ously rabbis of the Reformed sect, that revolution, 
during its Kerensky phase, seemed a God-sent excuse 
to enable them to evade the responsibilities of the time 
and the bitter draught that the Jewish Congress was 
to them. With the creation of the new Russia, they 
declared, the Jewish need terminated. The problems 
both of relief and justice were automatically solved. 
Of course, they knew better. It was impossible, 
the facts being what they were, not to know better — 


but the occasion was too convenient to forego. Events 
more than invalidated the declarations and shamed 
the declarants — at the time, the Revolution served 
only to add another excuse for obstructing the organiz- 
ation of the Jews of America. The subsequent de- 
velopments in Europe wiped excuses out altogether. 
They aggravated the anxiety and the horror of the 
Jewish position — particularly in Poland and the 
Ukraine. They imposed an urgency which, when the 
Congress did meet, was acknowledged in the details 
of the programme it set itself and the terms of its 
instruction to its delegates to the Peace Confer- 

With regard to the Zionist Organization and the 
Zionist position the changes were even more radical. 

The programme of organization formulated by the 
leadership was one that had to be carried out against 
almost insuperable obstacles. No people in the world 
is so disorganized as are the Jews — wherever they 
find themselves. So in America also. Over and above 
the economic groupings and oppositions which underlay 
the conflict over the Congress, there were literally 
hundreds of others, minutely diversified, insidious, 
elusive. The common nationality of the Jews is 
crossed and broken by groupings based — to mention 
just a few — on sectarian, domiciliary, linguistic, social, 
and cultural differences. Each difference tends to be 
expressed in an association. Each association, once 
created, functions as a self-preserving social unity 
with the attractions, repulsions, and crises characteristic 
of the behaviour of such unities. Their impelling 
force might in the beginning be nothing more than the 
anxiety of some petty villager, hungry for the sense 


of security which contact with the people of the same 
local memories, habits, and background would give. 
But organized, they became nuclei of accretion for other 
interests and functions, with a vested right in existence, 
bound inevitably to obstruct the consolidation of the 
always potential larger groups or the efficient discharge 
of their functions. For larger groups and their func- 
tions are farther from home; they are without the com- 
pulsion of the visible and tangible elements of locality 
and the memories of the experience of such elements. 
They are, by contrast, thin and abstract. 

Both the Congress movement and the Zionist 
movement were limited and hampered by these local 
associations. They claimed a prior allegiance which 
could be overcome only through education and func- 
tional displacement. Thus, the Federation of Ameri- 
can Zionists was made up, at the outside, of "societies" 
whose members came together for any number of other 
reasons besides the Zionist, and there was no correla- 
tion between the strength of the societies and the 
strength of the Federation. Grounded as they were, the 
societies functioned necessarily as organs of exclusion 
rather than as organs of absorption, so that at its 
strongest the Federation of American Zionists never 
counted more than 20,000 members. To increase in 
numbers it was necessary to change the principle of 
association, to render the allegiance to the general 
Zionist Organization basic and to the local society 
derivative. It required a change from the federa- 
tive to the individual form of organization. Such 
a change could obviously not be brought about at 
once, nor could it be brought about except through 
the pressure of an external force which should be strong 


enough to loosen if not to shatter established habits 
of association and thinking, and compel the formation 
of new patterns. 

The external force was present and active in the form 
of the war emergency to meet which was the function 
of the Provisional Executive Committee for General 
Zionist Affairs, called briefly the Provisional Commit- 
tee. Created to act until the Inner Actions Committee 
could resume its duties, the latter found it inevitable, 
when it did emerge, to confirm the powers which cir- 
cumstance had compelled the Provisional Committee 
to assume and to exercise. These involved the sup- 
port of the Zionist institutions in Palestine, the main- 
tenance and development of the organization in 
English-speaking countries, and participation in the dip- 
lomatic and political activities which the new problems 
and conditions necessitated. 

To carry on this work, funds were needed, and as 
there was neither time nor opportunity to provide a 
new fund-raising machinery, the existing Zionist 
organization, such as it was, had to be used for the 
purpose. This use could not fail to change the centre 
of attention of the membership from local to general 
Zionist interests, nor to modify the form of their organ- 
izations. At the same time the Provisional Committee 
began to figure as a practical and efficacious servant 
of the individual Jew through the creation of the 
Transfer Department, which undertook without charge 
to transmit moneys to individuals in any part of the 
world where the Zionist organization could reach. 
This it did so efficiently that the Bureau of Disburse- 
ments of the State Department officially recommended 
the Provisional Committee to Jews and Gentiles alike 


as distributing agent. All the while, the Congress 
agitation was going on, under Zionist leadership. 

These circumstances, taken together, reenforced 
by the tradition of feeling and aspiration toward Zion, 
tended slowly to effect the necessary change in habit 
and thinking. The change showed itself first by 
the formal adhesion of increasing numbers of individ- 
uals to the Zionist movement at large. Chief among 
these was Judge Julian W. Mack, of the United States 
Circuit Court of Appeals, a jurist of note, a leading 
member of the American Jewish Committee, and a very 
distinguished figure in American civic life and Jewish 
philanthropy; he became in the course of time president 
of the Zionist Organization of America. The change 
showed itself, secondly, in the formal adoption of the 
Basle Platform and the vote to pay the shekel, of one 
great fraternal organization after another. Coinciden- 
tally, the forms and methods of office procedure, which 
had had all the looseness and inefficacy of a Talmudical 
college, were organized and put on what is usually 
called a "business basis" — "business basis' being an 
ironic American euphemism for efficiency. Propagan- 
dists, American, European, Palestinian, were sent 
about the country to expound the movement, to show 
its relation to the Jewish question, and to secure men 
and money. By the time of the Pittsburgh Conven- 
tion, June, 1918, the change in habit and thinking had 
become adequate enough to risk a formal change in or- 
ganization. The constituent societies of the Federation 
of American Zionists, the women's society known as 
Hadassah, the Federation itself, and the Provisional Com- 
mittee were dissolved, or rather, reorganized. In their 
place was put the Zionist Organization of America. All 


Zionists were made directly and individually members of 
the national organization and this was divided into terri- 
torial districts from which they elected their delegates to 
the annual convention . This convention in turn was to be 
elected the National Executive Committee which was to be 
the administrative agent of the Organization between con- 
ventions. The movement is now toward the direct election 
of the National Executive Committee by the districts. 

The same convention at which this organization 
was effected showed how far from the starting-point 
the programme of organization had led. The less 
than 5,000 enrolled Zionists of 1914 had become 150,000 
in 1918, with the unenrolled shekel payers well over 
200,000. The timid budget of about $15,000 of 1914 
had become $3,000,000 in 1918. The petition it sub- 
mitted in behalf of its programme contained 529,000 
Jewish signatures. The negligible aggregation of Ghetto 
shop-keepers and intelligentsia of dreamers and theorists 
had become as large and potent an organization of Jews 
as existed anywhere in the world. The anonymous, 
powerless Jewish society of 1914 had in 1918 become the 
most influential in America, recognized by governments 
as the spokesman for the Jewish people and consulted 
on all matters touching them. 

The most important, though intentionally least con- 
spicuous cause in this change was the leadership which 
could inspire so great a personal allegiance and devotion 
on the part of a collection of people hard to parallel 
for diversified idiosyncrasy and individualism as to 
overcome them, and to create an unprecedented unity 
and intensity of action among them. But the com- 
pulsion and opportunity of circumstances were hardly 
less influential. The institutions and communities 


of Palestine had to be preserved, and to preserve them 
required not merely the organization of Jewry and 
the collection of moneys, but negotiations with govern- 
ments and consultations with diplomats. The suc- 
cess or failure of these was ineluctably a function of the 
aims and fortunes of the Great War. 

Now the aims of the war involved a duality — more 
correctly a duplicity — created by its fortunes. The 
disregard of international decencies and obligations 
involved in the Austrian assault on Serbia and the 
German invasion of Belgium, and the atrocities there 
committed, supplied ground for public and ethical 
justifications of war which became the organizing ideals 
of the peoples of the allied countries, and the ruling 
themes in the propaganda of their governments at 
home and abroad. These justifications and ideals were 
formulated as the "principle of nationality" or "self- 
determination," "to make the world safe for democ- 
racy," "to establish lasting peace." Brought forward 
among the belligerents of the alliance to stabilize 
and maintain the morale of their peoples and forces, 
they were seized on by the subject peoples of every land, 
but particularly by those of central Europe, among 
whom they had been vital and momentous for genera- 
tions, and were made the basis for the presentation 
of their claims for liberation and independence. In 
addition they were used indifferently by either belli- 
gerent to embarrass the other. But in the United 
States they were taken at their face value and they 
won the sympathy and then the allegiance of both 
the people and the government of the greatest neutral 
country. Consequently, when Germany forced this 
country to enter the war they acquired at once and at 


last the status of primary and overruling objectives 
of the combat, to which the Allies could not but consent. 

Nevertheless, behind these ideals and justifications 
lay a complex of desires and interests altogether un- 
related to them, in fact, their exact opposites, much 
deeper rooted, older, and more potent than they. These 
desires and interests had determined the behaviour, 
organization, and armament of European countries 
for well-nigh half a century. They had created the 
condition of competitive militarization, commercial 
rivalry, and emotional tension which Mr. Brailsford 
has aptly called the war of steel and gold. They had 
induced in international relations a state of affairs 
which was nothing more or less than a condition of 
international anarchy. The usual name for this con- 
dition is economic imperialism. Its core has been 
the rivalry of land-power and water-power over the 
control of the eastern Mediterranean. The policy of 
Britain with respect to the Turkish Empire, the di- 
plomacy of the French, the wars of the Russians, the 
operations of the Germans, aU had had the same end — 
the control or possession of the eastern Mediterranean 
and the roads and highways of Asia Minor. 

The reason should be obvious. Asia Minor, in- 
cluding Palestine, is at the juncture of the three con- 
tinents of the Eastern Hemisphere. The Dardanelles, 
and the Bosporus on which is situated its greatest 
city, Constantinople, are the only all-the-year-round 
outlet to the sea for Russian commerce. Russia con- 
sequently has always striven to dismember Turkey 
and to gain possession of Constantinople. The ration- 
alization of this striving is called pan-Slavism. But 
in this Russia has always been frustrated by Great 


Britain. For to Great Britain the survival of Turkey 
used to be an insurance of the freedom of Egypt and 
India from attack by land, and of the maintenance of 
her monopoly of transportation by water between 
Europe and western Asia. To the French the integ- 
rity of the Turkish Empire was necessary because of 
the investments of the French in Turkey, particularly in 
Syrian railroads. Probably more than three fifths 
of the Turkish loan is underwritten by French rentiers, 
and a large proportion of the rest is in the hands of 
British interests. Now the trade monopoly of the 
English, the investments of the French, the desire for 
Constantinople of the Russians were all threatened by 
the creation of the understanding between Germany and 
Turkey, which, as we have seen, was the cornerstone 
of the proposed German structure of Mittel-Europa. 
On the basis of this understanding Germans received 
in Syria and Mesopotamia concessions which included 
coal mines, copper mines, and railroads. Particularly 
they included the Bagdad Railroad, with a projected 
terminal on the Persian Gulf. The completion of such 
a road connecting Bagdad with Berlin would have 
created for the products and manufactures of Mittel- 
Europa an all-land route to Asia. It would have given 
Germany a very distinct trade advantage over Britain. 
It would also have put into effect a very serious mili- 
tary threat against India. So Britain prevented the 
completion of the Bagdad Railroad by an understand- 
ing with the Shereef of the Koweit which gave her 
control of the possible terminals. But this was not 
enough. The German threat remained. And re- 
mained a threat not only against the interests of 
Britain but of Russia and France as well. 


The three rivals over Turkey thus found themselves 
confronted with a common enemy within Turkey, 
whose existence required them to come to some common 
agreement with regard to the disposition of their 
various interests in the empire. Turkish participa- 
tion in the war on the side of the Central Powers sup- 
plied the opportunity and the duplicity of the govern- 
ment of the Tsar with regard to the continuance of 
Russian participation in the war supplied the occasion. 
It was hoped that the Russian bureaucracy might be 
bribed to keep up their end. So accordingly, in 1916, 
with the fortunes of battle going against the Allies, 
Sir Mark Sykes, who had been sent to study conditions 
in Asia Minor, and had expert knowledge about that 
part of the world, was ordered to Russia in company 
with M. Georges Picot to see if an arrangement could 
not be made. One was made. It had the form of a 
secret understanding by which Great Britain under- 
took to abandon her traditional policy with regard 
to the Turkish Empire. The empire was to be dis- 
membered. Russia was to receive Constantinople 
and her outlet to open water. France was to receive 
Syria and that part of northern Palestine which 
includes the Litani, the headwaters of the Jordan, and a 
portion of Galilee. Great Britain was to receive 
certain ports on the Syrian coast, namely Haifa and 
Acre with the implicated part of Palestine, the Tigris- 
Euphrates Valley, the control of the Persian Gulf, 
and of the Red Sea. What remained of Palestine 
was to go under international control. These arrange- 
ments would accomplish the same ends that the sur- 
vival of Turkey would accomplish — the control of the 
ways to India and the monopoly of trade routes. 


It would improve the latter, inasmuch as it would 
make possible the creation of short overland routes 
between the Syrian ports and the markets of Asia 
Minor. It would offset the disadvantage of the free- 
dom of the Suez Canal. 

Such was the intent of the secret Sykes-Picot Treaty 
of May, 1916, to be validated by concerted attacks 
through the summer of that year on the eastern, the 
western, the Balkan, and Italian fronts. The attacks, 
however, gained only ground, not victory, and the 
sordid Rumanian Government, lured by the promise 
and hope of being in at the death and participating 
in the division of the spoils, entered the war on the 
side of the Allies only to be overrun by the Central 
Powers and crushed. Russia became less than ever a 
force to be counted on. The people of the allied coun- 
tries showed distinct signs of exhaustion and war- 
weariness. A period of depression ensued, in which 
feeling took form in reformulations of war aims, in 
attempts at stating conditions of peace, in negotiations, 
secret and overt, toward peace, under the dominion 
of a mood known as 'defeatism." This mood could 
not and did not, however, influence in any essential 
way the habits of imperialism. Russian disintegra- 
tion had gone too far to render her government effec- 
tually responsive to the lure of Constantinople. The 
living force of the country had passed beyond its con- 
trol. Its economic life had come under the direction of 
the Union of Zemstvos; its political life was moving 
rapidly toward revolution. With the defection of 
Russia in view, the French and the English governments 
were compelled to seek other alliances, were prompted 
to promise anything. They worked on the Greeks 


and on the Arabs. They planned at last an eastern 

The work on the Arabs had long been held in view. 
The Arabs of Syria had always been friendly to Great 
Britain. Already during the first months of the war a 
Nationalist Committee, composed of representatives 
from Syria, Arabia, and Mesopotamia, had been formed 
at Damascus. This committee formulated a pro- 
gramme of self-government and cooperation which it 
transmitted secretly to the Shereef Husein at Mecca. 
If he acquiesced in it he was to negotiate with Great 
Britain for help in its realization, in return for military 
support against the Turks. He did acquiesce, and 
did begin negotiations with the High Commissioner 
in the newly proclaimed protectorate of Egypt. But 
by the time partial agreement — sufficient to justify 
action — had been reached, the Committee in Damascus 
had been discovered and crushed by the Turks. Syria 
and Mesopotamia were unable to act. Only Arabia 
could do anything. The bargain that was made with 
Husein, through that remarkable young archeologist, 
Col. T. E. Lawrence, made with the approval of France, 
required him to proclaim his independence and to enter 
the war on the side of the Allies. In return, the Syrian 
and Arabian dominion of the Turk was to be divided 
into three Arabian principalities: one, consisting of 
Syria and Palestine, under the rule of the Emir Feisal, 
eldest son of the King of the Hedjaz; another, em- 
bracing Mesopotamia and the trade routes to India, 
under the government of the second son, Zeid; and 
the last, stretching from the Hedjaz to the eastern 
shore of the Red Sea, under the rule of a third son, 
Abdulla. France and Britain, of course, were, withal, 


to safeguard their own especial interest — the British 
interests being notably the control of Irak, of the 
provinces of Bagdad, and Basra. 

This secret treaty, made after an understanding with 
the French, rendered ambiguous the Sykes-Picot 
Treaty. As negotiated by Sir Henry McMahon, from 
Egypt, it had the desired effect of bringing the Arabs 
into action as reenforcements of the British operating 
in Palestine. It necessitated training them and sub- 
sidizing them. It left open, as a source of future 
difficulties, the unsettled points, particularly the con- 
trol of the littoral of Syria and Cilicia lying west 
of Horns, Aleppo, Hama, and Damascus. Its im- 
mediate point was to get additional man-power, and 
this point was secured. But the man-power made 
little difference. America's entry into the war in 
April, 1917, brought hope, but not hope of a speedy 
decision. The strain due to submarine and zeppelin 
attacks, trench warfare, undernourishment, and casual- 
ty lists had produced a depression which in diplomatic 
circles sought relief in ever-new alliances and combina- 
tions, motivated by old imperialistic conceptions 
of vital interests. The very last of such alliances 
which might, at one and the same time, remain in har- 
mony with the publicly announced ideals of the war, 
keep secure the interests of France and Britain in the 
Near East, and weaken the Central Powers, was with 
the Jews. Thus it came about that finally the national 
aspirations of the Jewish people and the Zionist Organ- 
ization received official attention as factors in the 
international situation. 

The considerations which led to this attention were 
manifold. Jews were an influential part of the popula- 


tion of the United States. Jews played an important 
role in the affairs of the Russian Empire — both in the 
finances and economic activities of the established 
order and in the opposition. Their sufferings and 
persecutions were known and their Zionist hopes were 
known. It was expected that a pro-Jewish declaration 
might help hold Russia together, or if a revolution 
occurred, keep her at least on the battleline. In 
central Europe Jews constituted a minority nationality, 
with the same wishes and outlook as other minority 
nationalities. It was expected that a pro- Jewish 
declaration would add another to the groups of effec- 
tive disaffection in the Central Empires. Probably, 
also, a factor was desired in Asia Minor to offset the 
force of the Arabs, should the time ever come when 
pledges and understandings had to be made good. 
It was urged that a Jewish Palestine would be the 
strongest support of British influence in the East and a 
great addition to the security of the Suez Canal; that 
in view of its racial linkage with the commercial 
settlements of Jews in Bagdad, Persia, India, the 
Straits, Hong Kong, Shanghai, it would be the chief 
gate for the economic penetration of the greater part 
of Asia and a most powerful support in the East for 
the British merchant and the British manufac- 

But this was only half the story. The imperialism 
of the officials in this case was reenforced, within the 
general atmosphere of the Christian tradition regard- 
ing the restoration of the Jews, by the piety of one 
group of Englishmen, by the democratic liberalism of 
another, and the literality with which the masses of all 
the allied peoples but particularly of Britain were tak- 


ing the public formulations of the objectives of the 

Already in 1914, a professor of chemistry in Man- 
chester University, Chaim Weizmann, had of his own 
initiative begun to put the Jewish position and the 
Jewish aspiration before Englishmen of influence 
and power. A man of great personal charm, swift wit, 
and keen social perceptions, he received a hearing 
which became all the more attentive and considerate 
after he had performed for the country a very important 
professional service — he had contributed toward the 
creation of T N T. But it was a hearing purely personal 
and unconnected with the actual politics of the interna- 
tional situation. His work, reenforced by the coming to 
London in November, 1914, of Sokolow and Tschlenow, 
members of the Inner Actions Committee, had purely the 
effect of preparing the soil, of providing conditions for 
favourable action, should the occasion by some miracle 
arise. In this he secured the agreement and collabora- 
tion of Messrs. C. P. Scott and Herbert Sidebotham 
of the Manchester Guardian, who organized the British 
Palestine Committee, and later, of Sir Herbert Samuel 
and the Rothschilds. Members of religious groups 
such as the Second Adventists, who saw in the war the 
apocalyptic Armageddon and regarded the restoration 
of Palestine to the Jews the final preliminary to the 
Second Advent, were naturally sympathetic to the 
Zionist plea, and active in its endorsement. Moreover, 
British religious tradition and foreign policy generally 
were weighted in the direction of favourable attention 
to Jewish rights. And Jewish claims gained additional 
prestige and picturesqueness through the agitation of 
Vladimir Jabotinsky and Pincus Ruthenberg for the 


creation of a Jewish legion to fight with the Allies in 
France and in Palestine. The sole fruit which this 
agitation bore at the time — it was frowned upon 
by the Zionist leaders and repudiated by the Organiza- 
tion as impolitic — was the organization of the Zion 
Mule Corps, made up of Djemal Pasha's expulsees and 
a few European Zionists, and led by Colonel Patter- 
son. The corps distinguished itself at Gallipoli. 1 

The work of education and propaganda in England 
thus met with comparatively favourable conditions 
from the outset. Its great asset, however, was the 
known fact that the President of the United States 
had come to believe in the Zionist programme as the 
solution of the Jewish question and had promised his 
best efforts in helping to carry it out. It counted 
heavily in Mr. Balfour's consultations with Justice 
Brandeis during the former's mission to the United 

When, therefore, in the depressed early months of 
1917, Sir Mark Sykes, acting on behalf of the allied 
governments, particularly of Britain and France, 
opened official negotiations with Mr. Sokolow acting 
for the International Zionist Organization, conditions 
were ripe. The negotiations condensed the psycholog- 
ical nebulae produced by the conferences, discussions, 
and propaganda into a programme of definite action. 
Regarding the terms in which this programme should 
be formulated there had been endless discussion 
between the leaders of the movement everywhere and 
the diplomats of the Allies. They varied from the 
delimitation of a Jewish state to merely opportunity 
for immigration and settlement. The formulation 

l Cf. Colonel Patterson's book: "With the Zionists at Gallipoli." 


had to be made, so far as the Jews were concerned, 
in view of the Jewish position in the politics of Europe 
and of the Basle programme It was a statement so 
far as the Allies were concerned that had to be made 
in view of the complexities of economic, sectarian, 
and political interests in England, in France, in Italy, 
and in Asia Minor. Sir Mark came, in the course of the 
negotiations, to believe in Zionism and to work for it 
with a fervour which has since marked more than one 
disinterested liberal among his fellow countrymen. 
His knowledge, labour, and influence came to be at the 
constant disposal of the Zionists. He grew to regret 
the terms of the Sykes-Picot Treaty, and after the 
statement was publicly made warned the Zionists 
that it would be necessary to keep the Government 
reminded of it. 

The journeys of Mr. Sokolow to France, to Italy, to 
the Vatican; the statements made by Weizmann and 
Sokolow in May, 1917, to the Conference of the English 
Zionist Federation, precipitated a condition in England 
analogous to that in the United States. On May 24 
the London Times published a letter signed by officers 
of the Conjoint Committee of the Board of Deputies 
of British Jews and the Anglo- Jewish Association. 
The letter recapitulated the philosophy of the "assimi- 
lationists": the Jews were not a nationality in Galuih, 
but a sect dispersed by divine providence for salvational 
purposes; the Zionists were irreligious enemies of these 
purposes; their success would hopelessly compromise 
the Jewish struggle for equal rights in countries where 
these had not yet been attained, and would work 
injustice to the Arabs in Palestine, where the Jews, 
in the opinion of the Committee, after all had no especial 


rights; withal they were not opposed to the establish- 
ment of relief settlements in Palestine. Immediately, 
the Times was bombarded with replies from all sorts of 
people, of all degrees of conspicuity and anonymity. 
In its editorial review of the controversy it hit upon 
the governing anxiety in the psychology of this group 
of Englishmen of the Mosaic persuasion. Don't be 
afraid, it told them; "only an imaginative nervousness 
suggests that the realization of territorial Zionism, in 
some form, would cause Christendom to round on the 
Jews and say, 'Now you have a land of your own, go 
to it!' But this exposure of the complex to the light 
of day did not dissolve it. Some eighteen distinguished 
Englishmen of the Mosaic persuasion associated them- 
selves with Messrs. David Alexander and Claude 
Montefiore, the signatories to the statement in behalf 
of the Conjoint Committee. Then the fat was in the 
fire indeed. One after another the congregations 
supposed to be represented by the Board of Deputies 
dissociated themselves from the action of the president, 
Mr. Alexander, and censured its officers. The Con- 
joint Committee was reorganized and subjected to 
democratic control. Although Zionism was declared 
to lie outside its province, practically all the constituent 
communities in the United Kingdom adopted resolu- 
tions in favour of Zionism. The English press was 
practically unanimous in the same endorsement. So 
was the press of the United States. So — it appeared 
in the course of the next year — were the members of 
the War Congress of this country, so was the American 
Union for Labour and Democracy, speaking for the 
organized workingmen of the country; so was the British 
Labour Party. So was the liberal-radical government 


of Russia. Opposition came conspicuously from ° assimi- 
lationist" or sectarian Jews of a psychology similar 
to that of the members of the British Conjoint Com- 
mittee. Outstanding among these were rabbis of the 
Reformed sect in America. 

The collective force of the opposition was too weak 
to have the remotest chance of success. For once 
justice, internationalism, and imperialistic interests 
were in harmony. Sir Mark Sykes, aware cf the 
conditions in his government's contracts regarding 
the Near East, and anxious to resolve them, conceived 
of an Arab-Armenian-Jewish confederation of the 
Near East, founded in mutual good -will and creating 
together there through industry and righteousness a 
new civilization of culture and progress which should 
be a potent part of the commonwealth of nations he 
conceived the British Empire might come to be. The 
roots of the conception were the needs of imperialism, 
of course, but what roots are not, of anything that lives 
and grows and bears fruit, in carnality and earthiness? 
On November 2, 1917, after nine months of conference, 
negotiation, consultation, cabling, and visitation; after 
numberless writings and re writings, in which repre- 
sentatives of the governments of France, Great Britain, 
Italy, as well as the Zionists of America, England, and 
Russia participated, and of which the government 
of the United States was kept fully informed and with 
which it was known to be in full sympathy, Mr. 
Arthur James Balfour, then secretary of state for 
foreign affairs, sent his famous letter to Lord Rothschild 
and the Zionist Organization, which has since been 
known as the Balfour Declaration. Both with respect 
to the form of this letter and the decision to issue it the 


Government of the United States exercised a determining 
influence. Mr. Balfour wrote: 

I have much pleasure in conveying to you on behalf of 
His Majesty's Government the following declaration of 
sympathy with Jewish Zionist aspirations which has been 
submitted to and approved by the Cabinet. 

His Majesty's Government view with favour the establish- 
ment in Palestine of a national home for the Jewish people, 
and will use their best endeavours to facilitate the achievement 
of this object, it being clearly understood that nothing shall 
be done which may prejudice the civil and religious rights 
of existing non-Jewish communities in Palestine or the rights 
and political status enjoyed by Jews in any other country. 

I should be grateful if you would bring this declaration 
to the knowledge of the Zionist Organization. 

The immediate effects of the declaration were what 
had been anticipated. Greeted with general approval 
by the press and the public opinion of the allied coun- 
tries, it became a rallying point for the devotion and 
the energies of the Jews of the world. It brought new 
recruits to Zionism and encouraged recent ones like the 
late Mr. Jacob H. Schiff . It reacted immediately upon 
the morale of Russia and the Central Empires, to what 
extent may be gathered from Baron von dem Bussche's 
commentary on the statement elicited from Talaat 
Pasha in Vienna. All that Talaat could well do was to 
call attention to the historic friendliness of the Turkish 
Government toward the Jews, to its customary wel- 
come to economic and industrial development of 
Palestine, and its necessary opposition to "Zionists 
who have political ambitions for Palestine.' ' The 
German under-secretary commented significantly: "As 
regards the aspirations in Palestine of Jewry, particu- 


larly, Zionism, we welcome the recent statement 
of the Grand Vizier, Talaat Pasha, expressing the 
Turkish Government's intention, ... to promote 
flourishing settlements within the limits of the capacity 
of the country, local self-government corresponding 
with the country's laws, and free development of their 
civilization." Talaat had said nothing of the sort. 
The statement was a warning to the Turks and a prom- 
ise to the Jews, as parallel as was possible to the 
Balfour Declaration. 

But it was of no avail. The Declaration accelerated 
the fission going on in the Central Empires between 
the subject nationalities and their overlords; in Ger- 
many the Zionists took an attitude which was tanta- 
mount to defiance of their rulers. To the affairs 
and programme of the Jews the Declaration gave a 
new turn which no argument could deviate and no 
machinations hold back. Almost synchronous with 
it was the long-expected British invasion of Palestine, 
the conquest of Jerusalem, and the liberation of Judea. 
And succeeding it, in due order, came the public 
official confirmations of the French, the Italian, and 
the other allied governments, not excluding the Chinese 
and Siamese, while the politic Papacy was quick to 
announce its approval. Among the Zionists the 
Ruthenberg-Jabotinsky military programme was im- 
mediately renewed and with the cooperation of British 
recruiting officers, made as effective as circumstances 
would permit. A Jewish battalion "recruited chiefly 
in England, Palestine, and America," did participate 
in liberating the Homeland, and was mentioned in the 
dispatches. In America, the organization devoted 
itself to the constructive work of assembling and or- 


ganizing and dispatching a Medical Unit to see to the 
health of the Homeland, and to the immediate ac- 
cumulation of a great fund to begin its restoration. 
Among non-Zionists the Declaration became the 
occasion of statements by various groups — depreciation 
and denunciation by rabbis of the Reformed sect, 
and by laymen also troubled with "imaginative 
nervousness" regarding the security of their status 
and fortune in America; "profound appreciation" 
by the American Jewish Committee, while Mr. Louis 
Marshall declared, in refusing to join a group about 
to organize to combat Zionism, that he would "regard 
public antagonism to Zionism . . . as an act of 
treachery to the welfare of Judaism." 

In Russia its effects were cut off from development 
by the success of the communist revolution and the 
establishment of the Soviet Republic with all the dis- 
aster that to some degree it created and that mostly 
was imposed upon it. The dismemberment of the 
Russian Empire effected through the treaty at Brest- 
Litovsk dismembered also the world's greatest Jewish 
community and threw the Jewish people of central 
Europe under the dominion of fear and in jeopardy of 
extermination. It brought Zion as the hope of their 
salvation as intensely to their consciousness as in 
days of Sabbattai Zevi, with the living difference 
that followed from the secularism of the Balfour 
Declaration and of the new international attitude 
toward the Jews. It made them more conscious than 
ever of the defensive and insurance value of explicit 
acknowledgment in public law of their rights as groups, 
as national minorities with a historic and present func- 
tion in the organization of such states as Poland, 


Rumania, the Ukraine, and the rest of lesser ones 
which the treaty of Brest-Litovsk promised to let 
loose, and the loosing of which the final victory of the 
Allies consummated, adding to them the component 
parts of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. 

Its consequence in Palestine was the enlistment of 
all able-bodied young Palestinian Jews in Allenby's 
army. The population, although suffering compara- 
tively little through the war, had nevertheless been 
disorganized and rendered destitute by the policy 
of Djemal Pasha, who practised evacuations, levies 
in money and goods, and cut down plantations, and 
drove off live stock and fodder. Its health had never 
been properly looked after. A concerted attempt was 
made to work out a programme of relief in the admin- 
istration of which all the sectaries including the Seph- 
ardim joined, taking a solemn and formal pledge 
to do all they could "in the work of our National 
Restoration," and the British military authorities 
did what they could in the areas they liberated. But 
the moneys needed were immense and the problems 
unnecessarily complicated so that it was felt that a 
representative and responsible body of Zionists should 
assume the task of rehabilitation of the Jewish com- 
munities of Palestine. Thus the Zionist Commission 
was conceived and provided for. It went to Palestine 
in March, just before the last desperate German drive. 
It went as an international body, whose members 
represented the Zionists and Jews of England, France, 
Russia, Italy and, indirectly, the United States. And 
it went under the sanction and authority of the British 
Government. Officially, it was designed to serve as a 
body of advisors to the military administration which 


the Hague conventions prescribe for occupied enemy 
territory "on all matters relating to Jews, or which 
may affect the establishment of a national home 
for the Jewish people in accordance with the declaration 
of his Majesty's government." Under this commission 
it was practically empowered to do anything it could 
within the law to rehabilitate Jewish Palestine of pre- 
war times, and to create the Jewish Palestine of the 
future. Its chairman was Dr. Ch. Weizmann; its 
liaison officer, Major Ormsby-Gore. The most dra- 
matic and spectacular thing it did, through Weizmann 
— a thing characteristic and symbolic also — was to lay 
the cornerstone of the Hebrew University on Mt. 
Scopus. The episode itself, baldly taken, was hardly 
more than a rather ridiculous gesture, a grandiloquent 
flourish; taken in its historic context and implications 
it was the epitome of the Jewish bias for the word 
and the book, a warning of irrelevance and impractical- 
ity quite as much as a promise of sweetness and light. 
But what makes it truly important is the fact that the 
President of the United States consented to make it 
the occasion of a public reaffirmation of the attitude 
of the Government of the United States toward Zion- 
ism. Mr. Wilson wrote: 

I have watched with deep and sincere interest the recon- 
structive work which the Weizmann Commission has done in 
Palestine at the instance of the British Government, and I 
welcome an opportunity to express the satisfaction I have felt 
in the progress of the Zionist Movement in the United States 
and in the Allied countries since the Declaration by Mr. 
Balfour on behalf of the British Government of Great 
Britain's approval of the establishment in Palestine of a 
National Home for the Jewish people, and his promise that 


the British Government would use its best endeavours to 
facilitate the achievement of that object, with the under- 
standing that nothing would be done to prejudice the civil 
and religious rights of non-Jewish people in Palestine or the 
rights and political status enjoyed by Jews in other countries. 
I think that all Americans will be deeply moved by the report 
that even in this time of stress the Weizmann Commission 
has been able to lay the foundation of the Hebrew University 
at Jerusalem with the promise that it bears of spiritual 

A month later the victory of Allenby came to reen- 
force the victories which Foch had begun to win. 
Within another month, the Central Powers asked for 
and received an armistice conditioned on the terms 
of peace formulated by the President of the United 
States in his statement of January 8, 1918, and in his 
subsequent statements, particularly that of September 
27, 1918. This last statement was the envisagement 
of an organization of peace which should "express 
the common will of mankind." The war, the President 
asserted, had been a people's war. The peace must 
be a people's peace. It must be a peace which should 
render "impartial justice in every item of the settle- 
ment, no matter whose interest is crossed ; and not only 
impartial justice, but also the satisfaction of the several 
peoples whose interests are dealt with." But, most 
of all, the conference should establish lasting peace. 
And lasting peace could be secured only in the form 
of a league of nations. Agitation for such a league 
had begun early in the Great War. Societies dedicated 
to its establishment had superseded the old peace 
societies in all the countries of the alliance and in most 
neutral countries, with membership recruited from 


among the most distinguished and influential in all 
walks of life. In the course of time government de- 
partments had been charged with the consideration 
of its possibilities, and the preparation of a constitution 
for it. It was made clear that the President of the 
United States was much preoccupied with its form and 
implications, and in this same final pronouncement 
before the armistice he described it as the cornerstone 
of any peace that could be lasting, that could guarantee 
the rights and safeguard the security of national mi- 
norities or could maintain justice between competing 



SUCH was the situation, when at last, two years 
after the election of its members, the American Jewish 
Congress was finally convened in Philadelphia. The 
atmosphere in which it met and the emotional tone 
which its delegates brought were not of the healthiest. 
Repeated demands had been made that the Congress 
should be convened within the two years' interval, 
and the various reasons — from political crises to 
official requests of officers of the government — given 
by the executive committee for not doing so had not 
been regarded as satisfactory. There were many 
who believed that the American Jewish Committee 
were trying to void their agreement and had chosen 
their own special representatives — events proved the 
latter belief correct — to go to the Peace Conference. 
Others accused the Zionists of trying to delay the 
holding of the Congress lest it embarrass their own 
special interests, so fortunately advanced. Still others 
feared for the security of the democratic movement, 
which must inevitably disintegrate through heedless- 
ness and inaction. All these special concerns faded, 
however, before the urgency of the times. The Peace 
Conference was imminent, was, in fact, unofficially in 
session. The need and disaster of the Jews in Po- 


land, in the Ukraine, in Rumania, in the Balkans, in 
Morocco, and in Persia were overwhelming. The Bal- 
four Declaration was only a promissory note, which 
required to be formally validated by the Peace Con- 

The Congress sat for four days, and each day the 
factional difficulties receded farther and farther before 
the felt need for unity in counsel and in action. They 
showed themselves at the outset, in contest over the 
chairmanship, to which, finally, the president of the 
Zionist Organization of America, Judge Mack, was 
elected by a vote of over four to one. They showed 
themselves by a demonstration of the Mizrachists 
against the spokesman for the radicals, Doctor Zhid- 
lovsky, and that culminated in the vote, moved by 
the Mizrachists themselves, to permit Zhidlovsky to 
proceed. They showed themselves in the attempts 
to get the Congress to vote its own perpetuation and 
these were overwhelmingly defeated. The men and 
women of the Congress exhibited a good deal of im- 
patience toward all these matters. They were anxious 
to get to the business in hand. That was the prepara- 
tion of memoranda, and of resolutions to be based 
on the memoranda regarding the problems and wishes 
of the Jews of the world in the establishment and safe- 
guarding of their rights and liberties. It was speedily 
found that the problem was organic, and that the 
numerous committees assigned to the consideration 
of Poland, Rumania, Russia, Ukrainia, Finland, Lith- 
uania, Galicia, and so on, would have to confer as a unit. 
The upshot of the conferences was the formulation of a 
"bill of rights" which was to be made the basis for 
the establishment of the Jewish position in each of the 


countries where it was in jeopardy or doubt. It reads 
as follows: 


Resolved that the American Jewish Congress respect- 
fully requests the Peace Conference to insert in the Treaty 
of Peace as conditions precedent to the creation of the 
new or enlarged States which it is proposed to call into 
being, that express provision be made a part of the Con- 
stitution of such States before they shall be finally recog- 
nized as States by the signatories of the Treaty as follows : 

1. All inhabitants of the Territory of . . . includ- 
ing such persons together with their families, who sub- 
sequent to August 1, 1914, fled, removed, or were ex- 
pelled therefrom and who shall within ten years from the 
adoption of this provision return thereto, shall for all pur- 
poses be citizens thereof, provided, however, that such as 
have heretofore been subjects of other States, who desire 
to retain their allegiance to such States or assume allegi- 
ance to their successor States, to the exclusion of . . . 
citizenship may do so by formal declaration to be made 
within a specified period. 

2. For a period of ten years from the adoption of this 
provision, no law shall be enacted restricting any former 
inhabitant of a State which included the territory of . . . 
from taking up his residence in . . . and thereby 
acquiring citizenship therein. 

3. All citizens of . . . without distinction as to 
race, nationality, or creed shall enjoy equal civil, political, 
religious, and national rights, and no laws shall be enacted 
or enforced which shall abridge the privileges or immuni- 
ties of, or impose upon any persons any discrimination, 
disability, or restrictions whatsoever on account of race, 
nationality, or religion, or deny to any person the equal 
protection of the laws. 

4. The principle of minority representation shall be pro- 
vided for by the law. 

5. Members of the various national as well as religious 


bodies of . . . shall be accorded autonomous manage- 
ment of their own communal institutions whether they 
be religious, educational, charitable, or otherwise. 

6. No law shall be enacted restricting the use of any 
language, and all existing laws declaring such prohibition 
are repealed, nor shall any language test be established. 

7. Those who observe any other than the first day of the 
week as their Sabbath shall not be prohibited from pur- 
suing their secular affairs on any day other than that 
which they observe; nor shall they be required to perform 
any acts on their Sabbath or Holy Days which they 
shall regard as a desecration thereof. 

To present and urge this bill before the Peace Con- 
ference a committee of seven was chosen, among them 
Judge Mack and Messrs. Marshall and Wise. They 
were further instructed by a resolution unanimously 
adopted "to cooperate with the representatives of 
other Jewish organizations and specifically with the 
World Zionist Organization, to the end that the Peace 
Conference may recognize the aspirations and historic 
claims of the Jewish people with regard to Palestine, 
and declare that in accordance with the British Govern- 
ment's declaration of November 2, 1917, endorsed 
by the Allied Governments and the President of the 
United States, there shall be established such political 
administrative, and economic conditions in Palestine 
as will assure under the trusteeship of Great Britain 
acting on behalf of such League of Nations as may be 
formed, the development of Palestine into a Jewish 
Commonwealth, it being clearly understood that noth- 
ing shall be done which shall prejudice the civil and 
religious rights of existing non-Jewish communities 
in Palestine or the rights and political status enjoyed 
by Jews in any other country." 


Although it was expected that the Commission would 
proceed immediately to Paris, all its members were 
not assembled there until March 22. Various causes 
had contributed to this delay. Mr. Wilson's expressed 
preference to meet the delegation or its spokesmen 
on American soil kept a number at home; the need of 
personal cooperation with the Zionists in London 
took others to England. The delay was not without 
value. When the Commission finally was assembled 
in Paris it brought with it from the President of the 
United States assurances of his unchanging sympathy 
with "the incontestable principle of the right of the 
Jewish people everywhere to equality of status," 
and of a reaffirmation of his approval of the Balfour 
Declaration and his conviction "that the allied nations, 
with the fullest concurrence of our Government and 
people, are agreed that in Palestine shall be laid the 
foundation of a Jewish Commonwealth." 

The two declarations, added to the fact that the 
Commission was the freely and publicly chosen spokes- 
man of the most prosperous and most powerful Jewish 
community in the world, secured for the Commission 
a status among the representatives of Jewry in Paris 
which was all the more needful if its task were to be 
adequately performed. 

The first of these tasks was to establish some degree 
of unanimity and cooperation among these representa- * 
tives themselves. From the time of their assembling 
they had been gathered in varied and opposing groups, 
broadly reducible to two. One, later constituting the 
Committee of Jewish Delegations to the Peace Con- 
ference, had been democratically established and was j 
representative of the rank and file of the Jewries of the 


world. The other, representing the Joint Foreign 
Committee of the Board of Deputies and the Anglo- 
Jewish Association of Great Britain and the Alliance 
Israelite Universelle of France, stood not so much for a 
class as for a certain philosophy of Jewish life and 
destiny — already commented on — which had been 
formulated as an apologia for the persistence of certain 
groups of Jews as Jews. 

The Committee of Jewish Delegations was the out- 
come of the attempt made by the Copenhagen Office 
of the world Zionist Organization soon after the armis- 
tice to call a conference in Switzerland of the repre- 
sentatives of the Jewish National Councils — created 
through the contagion of the Congress Movement in 
America — in Russia, Poland, Ukrainia, East Galicia, 
West Galicia, German Austria, Czecho-Slovakia, Bu- 
kowina together with other organizations of national 
scope. The outlook and interests of its constituent 
groups derived not merely from the concrete and often 
extravagant nationalist philosophy with which they 
were imbued, but from the poignant immediacy of 
experience and suffering and sentiment of the unhappy 
communities whom they represented. 

Both groups were too near their special problems 
to attain a proper perspective of thought and emotion 
with regard to them, to think them in any but dis- 
proportioned terms. Both suffered from an 'im- 
aginative nervousness" — the Englishmen and French- 
men of the Mosaic persuasion from the pathoformic 
fear of endangering their dearly won and dearly 
maintained status; the Jews of central Europe from 
the similar fear of never attaining to any freedom and 
security at all. 


Under the stressful conditions of the Peace Confer- 
ence at Paris an enchannelment of emotions of so great 
a polarity into a pattern of common and united action 
was impossible. Nevertheless, the Commission from 
America promptly charged itself with this task. To 
the advantage of its prestige it added the advantage 
of its point of view. Its outlook on the Jewish problem 
was the echo and homologue of the general American 
outlook on the world-problem : an outlook resting upon 
an active and even intense sympathy and idealism 
cooled and reduced to measure and objectivity by the 
detachment of distance and the healthy, secure life of 
the Jewish communities of America. It possessed like 
the American delegation to the Peace Conference an 
almost perfect equipment for the work of conciliation. 
Unlike the American delegation, it was able to use its 
equipment. That it did not succeed was not its fault: 
force alone, not persuasion, could, under the circum- 
stances, have succeeded. But it laid a foundation. 
It held, under the devoted leadership of Mr. Louis 
Marshall, conference after conference in the attempt 
at reducing the various committees into a single one, 
or failing that, of preventing public warfare and secur- 
ing public cooperation. On the surface it seemed as 
if the Commission might gain its ends, particularly 
with the representatives of the Conjoint Committee, 
upon whom the general English outlook naturally 
had considerable influence. A Conference Committee 
was created and charged with the task of formulating 
a joint memorial on the Jewish position and the rights 
of the Jews. But after many consultations, the "im- 
aginative nervousness," mostly of the French Mosaists, 
prevented union. Having conceded the thing in- 


volved in "national rights," they balked at the phrase 
that touched off the emotional and associative reactions 
which had been initiated by the generation that Na- 
poleon's Sanhedrin of 1807 had spoken for, and the 
reactions created an imponderable but impassable 
barrier to agreement. All that the English-French 
group could be persuaded to assent to was to refrain 
from taking hostile measures against any representa- 
tions regarding "national rights" which the Com- 
mittee of Jewish Delegations might make. Even 
this grudging and oral agreement they could not — so 
great was their anxiety — successfully keep. 

Meanwhile, the Committee of Jewish Delegations, 
at its headquarters in the Zionist offices, had organized, 
with the head of the American Commission, Judge 
Julian W. Mack as its first chairman, and when he 
was compelled to return to the United States, with 
Mr. Louis Marshall as his successor, and Mr. Leo 
Motzkin, former head of the Copenhagen Office, as 
its permanent secretary. The Delegations held con- 
tinuous sessions. Their problem was so to phrase 
their memorial to the Peace Conference as to secure 
the substance of justice to the Jews, individually 
and collectively, without at the same time adding to 
the burden of misunderstanding, ill-will, and enmity 
which had been the people's traditional lot. From 
the start it was agreed that the basis of any memoran- 
dum should be the Jewish Bill of Rights adopted by 
the American Jewish Congress. But concerning the 
details and formulae there was a difference of opinion 
among the American commissioners also. However, 
the facts and specifications of the representatives 
of the Jewries of central Europe and Russia were 


coercive: they made clear to both the most clerical 
and most legalistic of the Americans that for the Jews 
of the new states of Europe civil equality without 
national rights was a delusion and a myth. On May 
10, 1919, a memorial was unanimously adopted by the 
Committee and later deposited with the secretary of 
the Peace Conference. The phrase "national rights" 
remained a stumbling-block, nevertheless. Adopted 
in principle by the Peace Conference, the treaty with 
Poland designates the concept "national rights" 
by the circumlocution "rights of minorities differing 
from the majority in race, language, or religion." 
Otherwise, the treaty follows the principles laid down 
in the Bill of Rights of the American Jewish Congress 
and the memorial of the Committee of Jewish Delega- 
tions. These were provided for also in the treaties 
with Czecho-Slovakia, Rumania, Jugo-Slavia, Hungary, 
Turkey, Bulgaria, Austria, and Greece. Poland and 
Czecho-Slovakia have ratified the treaties — the Ruma- 
nian Parliament has still to act, and the other treaties 
are in varying stages of suspension or, if adopted, of 
sabotage, amid the chaos that followed the Treaty of 

All the treaties establish essentially the same things, 
not for Jews alone, but for all national minorities. 
First. That the several obligations are recognized as 

fundamental laws. 
Second. That all inhabitants of the country involved 

are assured full and complete protection of life, 

liberty, and property without distinction of birth, 

nationality, language, race, or religion. 
Third. That all habitual residents of the lands of a new 

state are admitted into the citizenship of that state 


and are secured in their rights to adopt another 
citizenship if they choose to do so, and it be open 
to them to do so. 

Fourth. That all members of national minorities are 
to be equal before the law, to be secured in their 
rights of admission to public employments, func- 
tions, or honours; in the practice of professions, 
crafts, or industry ; in the freedom to use any language 
for the purposes of private intercourse, commerce, 
religion, publication, and assembly, and, within 
reasonable limits, in the use of a minority language 
before the courts. 

Fifth. That racial, religious, or linguistic minorities 
must have equal treatment and security in law and 
in fact; that they are free to establish, manage, and 
control, at their own expense, charitable, religious, 
social, and educational institutions; that they shall 
be free to use their own language therein, and to 
practise their religion. 

Sixth. That while the State may make obligatory 
the teaching of the State language, it must supply 
adequate facilities also for instruction in the lan- 
guage of the minority, and must allocate to towns 
or districts where appreciable proportions of such 
a minority reside an equitable share of the monies 
provided through state, municipal, or other budgets 
for the purpose of cult, charity, or education. 

Seventh. That the Jewish minorities may, subject 
to general control of the State, provide, through 
the action of their local communities, committees 
which shall receive, distribute, and administer the 
monies so set aside, for the purpose designated. 

Eighth. That the Jewish minority shall have the full 


right to observe their Sabbath; that they shall not 
be required to attend court or perform other legal 
business on that day; that the State shall not order 
or permit to be ordered local or general elections, or 
registration for election or other purposes on that day. 1 
Ninth. That the State recognizes and acknowledges 
the obligations regarding members of racial, lin- 
guistic, or religious minorities as obligations of 
international concern guaranteed by the League 
of Nations; that the State recognizes and acknowl- 
edges the right and duty of any member of the Coun- 
cil of the League to bring to the Council's attention any 
infraction of these obligations, and that the Council 
is to take action upon each infraction. That the 
State agrees that differences of opinion between 
the State and any other member of the League on 
these matters shall be held to be a dispute of interna- 
tional character under Article 14 of the Covenant 
of the League of Nations and that the questions of 
law or fact involved in it shall upon the demand 
of either party be referred to the permanent Court 
of International Justice, whose decision shall be final 
and shall have the same force and effect as an 
award under Article 13 of the Covenant. . . . 
So the age-old problem of the rights of national 
minorities was met, and met for all minorities, by 
the one that had suffered longest and most terribly 
through its disinherited status. The ninth of the 
provisions here summarized constitutes the public 
and formal acknowledgment of the fact of nationality 
and the incorporation of its principle into the law of 
nations. Amid so much that was evil and retro- 

1 The Seventh and Eighth points are explicit only in the Polish treaty. 


gressive in the action at Versailles this one thing, for 
which America, official and unofficial, deserves the 
lion's share of the credit, stands out as to some degree 
uttering and fulfilling the hope and the vision with 
which the free and the humane men of the world had 
looked to the Peace Conference. 

Yet it does not in reality stick out from the picture. 
It is a conclusion, not a beginning. The same 
nineteenth-century spirit and outlook which underlay 
the rest of the work at Versailles underlies this also. 
It consummates in law, and thus lays the foundation 
for that change of habit in which will consist the con- 
summation in fact, of a process of group-rearrange- 
ments whose collective tendency we have observed 
as "the principle of nationality." It is worth while 
repeating that by and large the effect of the recogni- 
tion and application of the principle must be to remove 
it from the field of political contention and to permit 
the freer coming into the focus of attention of those 
other problems of grouping which were born with the 
industrialization of the western world. 

How rapid or how slow this change is likely to be de- 
pends entirely on the organization of the minorities and 
their power to make their rights so effective as to be no 
longer subject to contention. To-day the law is still a 
scrap of paper, a promissory note, with the League of Na- 
tions, its guarantor, barely showing a head out of limbo 
and the minorities too disabled to make themselves felt. 

When, however, the law was being thought out and 
urged, hopes were high, and upon its adoption in 
principle and form for incorporation into all treaties, 
gratulation was not unnaturally extensive, particularly 
among the Jews. One half of their problem had been 


solved, so far as debate, legislation, and the pledged 
honour of diplomats could be regarded a solution. 
There remained the other half — the incorporation 
of the Balfour Declaration into public law. The man- 
date from the American Jewish congress was explicit 
and the will of the Jewries of central Europe was 
no less known and resolute. The Committee of Jewish 
Delegations again acted unanimously. On July 10, 
1919, its members unanimously adopted a resolution 
to present to the Peace Conference a memorial regard- 
ing Jewish claims to Palestine. The presentation 
did not, however, take place until long after the Zionist 
Organization and the Jewish population of Palestine, 
acting jointly, had filed their own independent memo- 
rial, and the spokesmen of the Zionists — Messrs. Weiz- 
mann, Sokolow, Ussishkin, and Andre Spire — had been 
heard by the Council of Ten. Sylvain Levi, on behalf 
of the Alliance Israelite, appeared in opposition. 

Had this opposition been the only opposition the 
end of the matter would have been simple. But the 
disposal of Palestine was conditioned upon secret 
treaties, agreements, and counter-agreements. There 
were implicated in it interests of native landlords 
and foreign concessionaries, of foreign missionaries 
and native money-lenders. There was, besides, the 
swelling wave of nationalism, to no small degree arti- 
ficially fostered by these interests and maintaining a 
propaganda from Cairo to Delhi. There was the anti- 
Zionism of high British military officials, who regarded 
the creation of a Jewish Palestine as impracticable and 
dangerous, and the resentful opposition of the Secretary 
of State for India, an Englishman of more or less 
Mosaic persuasion. Palestine, the military men told 




the members of the Zionist Administrative Commis- 
sion, could be held only by the bayonet, and no govern- 
ment, particularly not the British Government, would 
undertake to hold it so for the Jews. The briefs, 
memorials, conferences, innumerable and anxious, 
had at one and the same time to seek delicate adjust- 
ment to every new phase of the situation and yet not 
surrender a tittle of the Jewish position. Consulta- 
tion followed consultation, draft followed draft, as 
rumour shifted and report veered. Finally a memorial 
was submitted. It was postulated upon Article 22 
in the Covenant of the League of Nations regarding 
mandatories. The text of Article 22 is as follows: 

To those colonies and territories which as a consequence 
of the late war ceased to be under the sovereignty of the 
states which formerly governed them and which are inhabited 
by peoples not yet able to stand by themselves under the 
strenuous conditions of the modern world, there should be 
applied the principle that the wellbeing and development 
of such peoples form a sacred trust of civilization and that 
securities for the performance of this trust should be em- 
bodied in this Covenant. 

The best method of giving practical effect to this prin- 
ciple is that the tutelage of such peoples should be intrusted 
to advanced nations who by reason of their resources, their 
experience, or their geographical position, can best under- 
take this responsibility, and that tutelage should be exer- 
cised by them as mandatories on behalf of the League. 

The character of the mandate must differ according to 
the stage of the development of the people, the geographical 
situation of the territory, its economic conditions, and other 
similar circumstances. 

Certain communities formerly belonging to the Turkish 
Empire have reached a stage of development where their 
existence as independent nations can be provisionally 
recognized subject to the rendering of administrative ad- 


vice and assistance by a mandatory power until such time 
as they are able to stand alone. The wishes of these com- 
munities must be a principal consideration in the selection 
of the mandatory power. 

Other peoples, especially those of Central Africa, are 
at such a stage that the mandatory must be responsible for 
the administration of the territory subject to conditions 
which will guarantee freedom of conscience or religion, sub- 
ject only to the maintenance of public order and morals, 
the prohibition of abuses such as slave trade, the arms traffic, 
and the liquor traffic, and the prevention of the establish- 
ment of fortifications or military and naval bases for other 
than police purposes and the defense of territory, and will 
also secure equal opportunities for the trade and commerce 
of other members of the League. 

There are territories, such as southwest Africa and certain 
of the South Pacific Isles, which, owing to the sparseness 
of their population, or their small size, or their remoteness 
from the centres of civilization, or their geographical con- 
tiguity to the mandatory state, and other circumstances, 
can best be administered under the laws of the mandatory 
state as integral portions thereof, subject to the safeguards 
above mentioned in the interests of the indigenous popula- 

In every case of mandate the mandatory state shall 
render to the League an annual report in reference to the 
territory committed to its charge. 

The degree of authority, control, or administration to be 
exercised by the mandatory state shall, if not previously 
agreed upon by the high contracting parties in each case, be 
explicitly defined by the Executive Council in a special act 
or charter. 

A permanent commission shall be constituted to receive 
and examine the annual reports of the mandatory powers 
and to advise the Council on all matters relating to the 
observance of the terms of all mandates. 

Pursuant to the terms of this article, the Zionist 
memorial declared for Great Britain as Mandatory. 


It outlined the historic claims of the Jewish people to 
Palestine, designated proposed boundaries, described 
the existing and de facto stake of the Jews in the land, 
their economic, social, and cultural services to it, and 
asked for the joint and formal validation of the Balfour 
Declaration by the members of the Peace Conference, 
their governments having already severally declared 
their adherence to it. And so on. At the hearing, the 
Zionist representatives elaborated and detailed their 
contentions. They made much of the Jewish urge 
toward Palestine, of the bearing of the Balfour Declara- 
tion on the Jewish tragedy in central Europe, of the 
rapidity and efficacy of the Jewish migration to Pales- 
tine, if proper conditions and safeguards are established. 
The designation of these conditions and safeguards 
were, meanwhile and afterward, being worked out 
by an interallied Zionist conference in London, in 
consultation with friendly Britons. Of this, also, 
numerous versions were made. What was definitive 
in all of them was the recognition of the essentially 
economic character, once the political guarantees 
had been established, of the problem of Jewish settle- 
ment. This recognition was due preeminently to the 
American Zionists: they had perceived immediately 
after the Balfour Declaration the necessity of being 
prepared with a definite economic policy, had studied 
out what, generally, the situation would demand, 
and had formulated a declaration which was unani- 
mously adopted by the National Convention held in 
Pittsburgh in July, 1918. This declaration was sub- 
sequently known as the Pittsburgh Programme. So 
far as possible, the Zionists sought to make the terms 
of this programme part of the terms of the mandate. 


If accepted, these terms would render it the obligation 
of the mandatory to establish Palestine as the Jewish 
National Home and to develop it into "an autonomous 
commonwealth dedicated to the advancement of 
social justice." The realization of this end would 
require measures to promote the immigration of Jews; 
to establish Hebrew as one of the official languages 
of the land; to charge appropriate Jewish agencies 
with the creation and management of a system of 
education; to promote and perfect local and municipal 
self-government; to provide for the public ownership 
and development of land, natural resources, and public 
works and utilities; to foster the cooperative organiza- 
tion of all agricultural, industrial, commercial, and 
financial undertakings, and to do all this in progressive 
collaboration with appropriate Jewish agencies. Fur- 
thermore, guarantees of liberty of conscience and of 
civil and political rights would be extended to all the 
inhabitants of the land, regardless of race, faith, or sex; 
the holy places would be protected, and all members 
of the League of Nations or their nationals would be 
assured of equality of economic opportunity. And 
when, in the fulness of time and the judgment of the 
Mandatory, the inhabitants of Palestine should be 
capable of self-government, the Mandatory would 
enable them by means of a "democratic franchise 
without regard to race, faith, or sex, to establish a 
representative and responsible government in such 
form as the people of Palestine may devise." 

The firmness and directness of the formulation and 
utterance of the Zionist aspirations before the Peace 
Conference and the Zionist policies in the terms of 
the mandate by no means represented the Zionists' 



mood. Behind their serene and bold public front 
there were at work uncertainties, anxieties, fears. 
Immediately after the appearance of the Zionist delega- 
tion before the Council of Ten the Emir Feisal — 
who was then in Paris to demand the admission of 
his country into the councils of the Allies, among 
whom it counted itself one — issued a statement resting 
directly upon the arrangement — verbal, it is true — 
between the Egyptian High Commissioner and his 
father. The statement was in direct contradiction of 
the Balfour Declaration; in direct antithesis to Feisal's 
statements in private to Doctor Weizmann. The 
truth was that this wise and on the whole straight- 
forward statesman was bewildered by the confusion 
of counsel and contradiction of pledges, by the antago- 
nisms of advisors and the whole devious trend of diplo- 
macy: he sought — in view of his relations to Syria he 
was compelled to seek — a straight and clean way out. 
Fortunately he was convinced, through the efforts of 
Mr. Felix Frankfurter, the lucid and competent chair- 
man of the American Zionist delegation — that Palestine 
was not involved in the political manoeuvring and 
counter-manoeuvering over the independence and se- 
curity of the Arab state. He expressed this conviction 
in a letter addressed to Frankfurter, in which he deplored 
the misleading of the Arab peasantry and stressed the 
traditional kinship and cooperation of Jews and Arabs, 
their common hardships, the sympathy of the Arabs 
with Zionism, and the hope for cooperation between 
the two peoples. He wrote: 

Our deputation here in Paris is fully acquainted with the 
proposals submitted yesterday by the Zionist Organization 
to the Peace Conference, and we regard them as moderate 


and proper. We will do our best insofar as we are concerned 
to help them through. We will wish the Jews a most hearty 
welcome home. 

These statements simply reaffirmed the sentiments 
he had somewhat earlier expressed at a public dinner 
in London. There he declared that "no true Arab 
can be suspicious or afraid of Jewish nationalism," 
and that the Arabs would be unworthy of freedom if 
they did not say to the Jews, "welcome back home," and 
"cooperate with them to the limit of the ability of the 
Arab state." But Feisal, though the spokesman, 
was not the ruler of the Arabs, not even the leader . 
of all of them. Effendis and money-lenders meant 
him to be a tool rather than a guide; and his anti- . 
Zionist expressions had been compelled by pressure 
in Paris and the news of unrest in Syria — unrest that, 
with the postponement of the Turkish Treaty and 
the multiplication of rumours, propaganda, and con- 
spiracies which more and more disquieted Jews and 
Arabs alike, reached the point in April, 1919, of threat- 
ened anti-Jewish and anti-Allied outbreaks all over 
the Arabian and Mohammedan world. This added to 
the anxieties of the Zionists. And the event that the 
word of this unrest particularly impressed the experts 
of the American delegation charged with the definition 
of the settlement of the Near East did not help to 
lessen it. Nor did the way in which spying-out 
commissions were planned and their personnel was 
changed again and again. The commission that finally 
did go was by no means favourably disposed, but very 
sensitive to missionary interests. The upshot of its 
investigations was a recommendation still unpublished 
and contrary to the best judgment of the American 


experts on the subject at the Peace Conference. This 
recommendation was not in favour of Jewish Palestine. 
So the Peace Conference dragged on. By the time 
the Treaty of Versailles was signed, the terms of a 
Jewish Palestine had been outlined on paper, verbal 
pledges had been given and taken, but nothing defini- 
tive had been accomplished. A Turkish treaty had 
been drafted but its terms were far from established, 
and the time of its presentation to the Turks seemed 
indefinitely remote. The Peace Conference disbanded 
with the bulk of its work still to do. The Zionists 
returned to their respective countries, fed on air, 
promise-crammed. The enthusiastic certainty of the 
war-time had been modified by the experience of the 
peace-making into anxious and watchful expectancy. 
It was apparent that if the powers were going to throw 
overboard any of the causes they had espoused under 
the lash of war needs the cause of the Jews would be 
the first to go. Nevertheless, the Zionists, particularly 
the American Zionists, proceeded with their work 
and plans as if the Jewish Homeland in Palestine were 
a foregone conclusion. They proceeded on the assump- 
tion that the war had vindicated for all times the rights 
of small nationalities and that covenants, particularly 
the open covenants openly arrived at, between great 
powers and such nationalities never again would, 
nor could, be scraps of paper. It was an imaginative 
and courageous assumption, a fine and bold act of 
faith. There was perhaps also an element of despair 
in it. And it is difficult to say whether, in this instance 
of the process of group contacts and interaction, the 
faith, as is so often the case in matters social and psy- 
chological, did not create its own verification. 



THAT the treaties signed at Versailles brought not 
peace, but more war; that they intensified the unrest, 
misery, and disintegration of all the countries of Europe 
which were affected by them; that they were in essence 
an act of dishonesty, a jockeying of solemn pledges 
to a beaten enemy — these have become commonplaces 
of liberal and humanist discussion of the terms of 
peace. The stupidity of these terms was, in liberal 
opinion, profounder than even their malevolence. 
By means of them, as Mr. Maynard Keynes has un- 
answerably shown and events have sufficiently proved, 
the governments of the allied and associated powers 
cut off their noses to spite their faces. It would 
be as easy as it is thankless to analyze the behaviour 
and to apportion the guilt of the statesmen responsible. 
No doubt the guilt is sure and the responsibility in- 
eluctable; the character, temperament, knowledge, 
and wisdom of these men must be counted, no less 
than many other things, as efficient causes in the ulti- 
mate result, and must bear their share of the iniquity 
of the outcome. 

But they were not the basic causes nor the import- 
ant causes. Certainly, more intelligence and less self- 
deception on the part of Mr. Wilson, more honesty 
and less flexibility on the part of Mr. Lloyd George, 



more knowledge and less vindictiveness on the part of 
M. Clemenceau, would have given the outcome a 
different turn and the consequent trend of events in 
Europe a more hopeful and cheerier direction. Cer- 
tainly, had ariy operative factor in the peace-making 
been other than it was, the peace and its consequences 
would have been other. When that has been said, 
all has been said — and nothing. For the significant 
thing with regard to any discussion of the making of 
that peace is not the speculation of how it might have 
been different but the understanding of what were the 
forces which made it what it was. Of these forces 
the men who formulated the peace were but the last 
terms and expressions, the channels, the contact points; 
in themselves — like the straw that broke the camel's 
back — of no weight to speak of, but piled on top of all 
the rest cataclysmal. 

Now the tendency which is above designated as "all 
the rest" constituted what has already been pointed 
to as a diminishing, not an expanding phase of social 
change. It is the tendency which in making for politi- 
cal democracy made also for financial imperialism. 
We have seen how the process of this democracy began 
with the philosophy of natural rights as compensation 
in idea for the inequalities of the dynastic state, and 
how in the history of European politics it took the form 
of the degradation of monarchical power and its dis- 
placement by popular power to be ultimately organized 
in the mode of parliamentarism on the basis of manhood 
suffrage. The philosophy of natural rights and its im- 
plicated political ideals could hardly have possessed 
the force and duration which are their properties if 
they had not rested in something more substantial 


than the passion of resentment and the mechanism 
of emotional compensation. They were, as a matter of 
fact, expressive as well as compensatory, and what they 
expressed were the abilities and self-sufficiency of an 
ordinary family under an economy prevailingly agricul- 
tural. This is the central and coercive fact regarding 
the "democracy" for which the Great War was to make 
the world safe. Implanted in Europe and in America 
by the force of two revolutions — the one in the British 
colonies of North America and the one in France — it 
set the "sovereign nation ,! of farmer-citizens against 
the "sovereign king," government by consent against 
government by authority, representation of the masses 
of electors against direct control by the classes. The 
masses were mostly peasants — farmers and agricultural 
labourers; the classes were mostly landlords, and oftener 
than not, of alien race. What lay between them 
and kept generating their conflict and its cataclysms 
was the land. The vital need which the whole natural- 
right philosophy with its nationalist-democratic poli- 
tics expressed and served was the need for land. The 
modern "democracy" which integrated and incarnated 
them came into existence as the popular political em- 
bodiment of an elementary economy of agriculture 
wherein the ostensible unit of political action was the 
freeholding agricultural worker, living with his family 
off his land through toil or through rent or both. In 
America there was any amount of free land to be had 
for the taking; in France, even as recently in Russia, 
the revolution became effective and irrevocable, with 
the expropriation of the feudal landlord and the re- 
distribution of the land to the peasantry. In England 
and the rest of Europe, however, the recovery of the 


land by the people was slower and more doubtful. 
Its culmination in the former country was interfered 
with by the war, and the war seems to have been set 
going on the continent, in order, among other purposes, 
to forestall its initiation there. 

The social processes called democracy were, however, 
no sooner set up than they were crossed and crowded 
by new ideas and new processes deriving from a new 
economy. The new economy is the economy of in- 
dustry. Under it the farmer or landowner does not 
live upon the soil he owns and draw his living direct 
from it. The working of the soil is merely subordi- 
nated to the operations of the mill or factory and may 
go on in areas very far removed from these — across 
continents, in foreign lands, in colonies, and so on. The 
soil produces only "raw material' which is trans- 
ferred to the industrial plant where the mass of men 
and women, working at great machines, serve together 
to change it into the finished product. Mostly, these 
men and women neither own nor rent land ; they neither 
own nor otherwise are secure in their dwelling-places; 
they neither own nor lease the tools and machinery 
which their skill alone can keep from being just so much 
junk. Compared with the agricultural worker they 
are nomads. Subject to unemployment, they move 
from place to place according to the exigencies of 
machine production. Compared with the agricultural 
worker, miserable though he may be, they lack both 
stability and freedom. Willy-nilly, no one of them is 
in himself anything as an economic unit. Each shares 
with all his fellows, in the most intimate way, the in- 
terest in the land from which comes the material he 
works on; the interest in the machine he works it with, 


the interest in the men and women who are his fellow 
workers at the machine. For a shortage of raw material, 
a defect in the machine, a failure of any one worker 
in his part of the industrial process jeopardizes the live- 
lihood of all. The automatic machine forces all who 
are productively related to it into an integral commun- 
ity wherein collective possession and free cooperative 
collaboration are inevitably indicated. They begin 
as the labour union and other modes of workman 
associations; it is not yet clear in what form they will 

Thus, at the same time that the democracy which is 
the political aspect of the older agricultural economy 
was winning its slow and precarious way against feudal- 
ism and monarchism, the economy of industry was 
displacing and profoundly modifying the agricultural 
scheme. But while democracy was dislocating the 
feudal overlord politically through suffrage, it en- 
trenched him economically through industry. For 
he alone — bar a small aggregation of bankers and mer- 
chants, who used to be largely his factors and agents, 
and who became his partners during the industrializa- 
tion of society — was ever possessed of a surplus of 
capital large enough to use for making the automatic 
machine and putting it to work. The central fact 
of the domestic economy of the western world during the 
nineteenth century became thus the interplay of the 
governing ideas of political democracy with the situa- 
tion created by the swift and uneven spread of the 
industrial economy. Through this interplay, popula- 
tion became urbanized; the serf became the citizen; 
the peasant, the proletarian; the landlord became 
the investor, and the factor, the banker and manager; 


foreign lands ceased to be places to loot, as in the 
past, and became sources of raw material and markets 
for finished goods. Through this interplay political 
democracy became a direct and efficient cause of 
financial imperialism. Europe became and the whole 
world tended to become, a unified single economic 
mechanism, dominated by a separatist political ide- 
ology. Soon it grew apparent that the victories of 
democracy in politics brought with them no modi- 
fication in the economic supremacy of privilege. 
Capitalism developed into merely the feudalism of 
industry: it replaced the overlord's direct control 
of politics by an indirect or invisible control. Re- 
action against it took form as the new system of ideas 
embodying the programme of life which is generally 
called socialism. This spread as a gospel while de- 
mocracy was taking root as an institution. 

The scope and extent of these curiously interlacing 
processes, usually called capitalism, was contingent 
on a variety of factors that kept coming together in 
ironic and often in grotesque combinations. Among 
these factors alone the inertia of habit and tradition 
stands out. Highly industrialized countries like Eng- 
land, where the use of machinery had overtaken and 
outdistanced democracy, seemed, prior to the war, in 
all basic essentials untouched by the doctrine; yet 
what happened during the war and since shows how 
deeply and imperceptibly the automatic machine had 
altered the habits and outlook of Englishmen, and 
with it their attitude toward their country's political 
organization. Almost exclusively agricultural states 
like Russia, whose political pattern was very nearly 
mediaeval, underwent revolution predominantly under 


the impulsion of a communistic socialism, to emerge, 
if reports of observers may be trusted, as France 
emerged from her revolution, secure in the change 
only through a redistribution of land such as would 
make inexorably for a political rather than a social 
democracy, and undergoing socialization, therefore, 
by means of autocratic force. Germany, next to 
England the most industrialized country in the world, 
and without exception the most purposively organized, 
develops a socialist party which functions politically 
as a democratic opposition to a powerful monarchy 
with feudal traditions, and which becomes, in the 
light of socialist ideology, reactionary once it gets 
established in power by a revolution brought on through 
external, not internal, causes. In the United States, a 
country half industrial, half agricultural, whose sur- 
pluses are still very considerable, Socialism as an 
ideology is irrelevant and tangential, even trade-union 
organization is elementary, the Socialist Party is the 
merest party of protest; yet revolutionary modifications 
of the political structure of the country take place 
(such as the growth of executive power, or the creation 
of commissions like the Interstate Commerce Com- 
mission), compelled by the reshaping pressure of the 
automatic machine on the habits of men's lives and the 
organization of their society. 

And so on. Not a country in the world wherein dwell 
considerable numbers of men but its economy has 
undergone alteration in noticeable ways by the existence 
and increase of machinery. Nevertheless, such altera- 
tions have for the most part been unconscious, reflexive, 
forced, rather than conscious and voluntary, matters 
of automatic response rather than of planned control, 


and the theory of life envisaging their purport and 
direction has functioned as protest rather than pro- 
gramme. It has not yet attained that successful in- 
carnation without which nothing gets recognized 
as respectable. Its protagonists still lack the prestige 
of an "integral victory," just as the protagonists of 
political democracy lacked it at the beginning of the 
nineteenth century. At the beginning of the twentieth 
the latter have it, and their minds, therefore, appre- 
hend righteousness as nothing else than the ideology 
of this democracy. 

With such variations as differences of inheritance, 
setting, and experience of necessity impose, the men who 
possessed the supreme power in the making of the 
peace were subjected to the domination of the demo- 
cratic ideology and to the conditions whereby it is 
respectable. When the Treaty of Vienna was signed 
and the Holy Alliance established as a union of "the 
ruling princes of Europe into a religious brotherhood 
pledged to guide themselves wholly by Christian 
principles," a similar situation obtained with respect 
to a less secular body of maxims which had also be- 
come respectable. Circumstances, particularly the 
swelling tide of political democracy, compelled the 
coupling of Christian principles with Machiavellian 
practices, just as after the treaties of Versailles and 
St. Germain democratic principles got coupled with 
star-chamber practices. The statesmen who pro- 
moted the practices declared them necessary to pre- 
serve the principles. Even when they knew better, 
they could not help themselves. They were frightened 
— frightened of Bolshevism. Old men all of them, past 
the prime of life, their minds had grown up and the pat- 


tern of their political thinking had got fixed in the days 
"when the political democracy which was establishing 
itself still stood sufficiently firm upon the agricultural 
economy which is its foundation. Their lives had 
been spent in the contemplation and manipulation 
of the ideology and institutions of this democracy. 
To the new conditions created by the growth of in- 
dustry under machine operation they deferred only 
as they were compelled to. The labour movement 
as distinguished from the political movement was to 
them an obstruction, not the basis of an ideal. They 
crushed it when they could and compromised with it 
when they had to. They did everything to it except 
understand it. For understanding it they had become 
too old. Their habits of attention and action — like 
those of their generation who made and ruled the war — 
had become fixed, and what they performed habitually 
and spontaneously was irrelevant to the new conditions 
which were displacing and rendering obsolescent the 
political forms wherewith they were preoccupied. So 
far as their relations to the real conditions of social 
growth were concerned, they were functioning in a 
vacuum. Prevailingly, it is this organization of mind 
that these old men carried over to the peace table: 
this that has governed their framing of the covenant 
of international polity and their ordination of a new 
international system. They framed the most that 
they were able to frame. They framed a mere re- 
production of the pattern of the national polity of 
industrial states." 1 That they did this under the im- 
pulsion of many other motives as well — Wilson's fear of 
Bolshevism and blinding obsession with the League, 

1 C/. Elisha Friedman: "America and the New Era," pp. 73-74. 


Clemenceau's militarist imperialism, 1 Lloyd George's 
wish to seem to try to keep his election pledges, Or- 
lando's to mitigate the opposition at home, the wish 
of the three Europeans to transfer to the erstwhile 
enemy the burden of meeting the costs of the war and 
the indebtedness of the peace — is incidental. The 
treaties imposed upon the Germans and the Austrians, 
the treaties delivered to the lesser and the newer 
states — such as Poland, Czecho-Slovakia, Finland, 
Rumania, Bulgaria, Serbia — all speak the language 
of democracy and impose the regulations of imperialism. 
They seek to ordain, in terms of exclusive national 
sovereignties, reciprocal, non-national, economic re- 
lationships. They are consequently implicated in an 
inevitable self-defeating duplexity which may in- 
differently be interpreted as the hypocrisy and insin- 
cerity of the members of the Council of Pour, as Mr. 
Maynard Keynes thinks, or as the dilemma inherent 
in the conflict between the ideology of the peace and 
its effective conditions. One of two things must, in 
the course of the next few years, inevitably happen: 
Either Europe will revert to the agricultural economy 
consistent with the ideology of its dominating cove- 
nant, in the process of the reversion undergoing 
decimation and moral and intellectual retrogression 
through the horrors of starvation and the terrors of 
revolution, or the process of conscious economic 
integration which the war compelled 2 will be under- 

: Even Mr. Wilson recognized this. "Through the sessions of the Con- 
ference in Paris," he wrote to Senator Hitchcock, March 8, 1920, "it was 
evident that a militaristic party, under the most influential leadership, was 
seeking to gain ascendency in the councils of France. They were defeated 
there but are in control now." 

2 Cf. H. M. Kallen, "The League of Nations Today and Tomorrow." 


taken again, on an all-inclusive European, ultimately 
a world-wide, scale. From the conference at Versailles 
to the conference at San Remo the former alternative 
dominated. Since San Remo there have been indica- 
tions, in the altered attitude toward Germany and in the 
activities of the League of Nations looking toward an 
international economic conference, of a movement in 
the direction of the latter alternative. 




THE outstanding index of the compulsion of events 
toward sanity has been the changing attitude toward 
Russia. Such industrialization as had been effected 
in Russia prior to the revolution had been effected 
sporadically, in isolated spots, and mostly through 
foreign capital and management. The bulk of it 
was concentrated on her western frontier, in those areas 
which have since become parts of Poland and the other 
new states. The economy of Russia is still prevailingly 
agricultural. Prior to the war she was the source of 
food and raw materials to her industrialized neigh- 
bours. Industry modified her economy mostly in 
terms of transport; not only her traffic with other com- 
munities, but the development and exploitation of 
her extraordinarily rich and varied natural resources 
depended on that. Transport was an outstanding 
concern of the Tsarist government; it remains the 
outstanding concern of the Soviet Republic. Even 
without adequate transport an isolated Russia could, for 
many years, be economically self-sufficient: her level of 
organization would be comparatively low and simple and 
under the stress of the revolutionary ideology, would 
tend to realize the ideals of democracy of the eighteenth 
century. The Allied blockade against her hence 



succeeded only in killing hundreds of thousands of 
innocent non-combatants in cities by keeping from 
them the tools and materials with which they were 
used to make articles of exchange with the country 
and by withholding necessary medicines; otherwise it 
served simply as a tonic to Soviet morale. The Soviet 
government could have survived under it longer than 
those of the other European countries; as Signor 
Nitti admitted, they needed foodstuffs and raw ma- 
terials far more than Russia needed locomotives. 
But their policy was based on considerations very 
different from the economic. It was based first of 
all on the hope and wish to recover for the financial 
imperialists the pre-revolutionary investments and 
concessions and their rich profits; and, secondly, on 
a moral panic manifested in symbols of the democratic 
ideology. This panic was in Europe the panic of the 
investing and privileged classes; only in America did it 
infect — under the influence of malefic propaganda, it 
is true — the majority of the people. In Europe, the 
sentiment of the majority of the people opposed it — 
particularly the sentiment of organized labour — and 
finally took practical expression in the refusal to trans- 
port ammunitions for use against the Soviet armies. 
The excess of this ammunition over the needs of the 
Great War was itself a controlling factor in the prolonga- 
tion of the war of the Allied governments upon Russia. 
The adventures of Kolchak, Denikine, Judenitch, 
Wrangel, and Pilsudki would not have been so lightly 
undertaken without it. 

That they were undertaken at all, moreover, was a 
symptom of confusion and uncertainty, rather than 
of well-planned and executed policy on the part of the 


Entente. The social personality known as the Russian 
Soviet Republic had become a baffling, obscure, and 
impudent thing, a very enfant terrible of politics. In 
its foreign relations its government exhibited a candour 
and realism, a shameless frankness of statement very 
embarrassing to the tradition and practice of unflinch- 
ing mendacity normal to Allied diplomacy. It had 
assumed the championship of the rights of man; it 
repudiated annexations and indemnities; it practised 
open diplomacy, it preached and sought peace; it pro- 
fessed and practised the doctrine of self-determination. 
It warred by propaganda even more than by arms; 
seeking alliance with subject peoples in the east, 
appealing to peoples against governments in the west. 
And its practices squared with its professions, as an 
examination of its treaties with the Baltic States will 

How much of the war propaganda was due to doc- 
trinal fanaticism and how much to the exigencies 
of its position cannot be seriously estimated. Its 
position held and holds inherent contradictions which 
must be resolved if Russia is to survive as a communist 
republic. These contradictions were implicated in 
the irrelevance of the Socialist ideology to the prevailing 
agricultural economy. The practical necessities of ad- 
ministration had compelled very extensive accommoda- 
tions of doctrine to the circumstances, habits, social 
traditions, and personal trends of the peasant masses. 
The security of the government rested primarily 
upon the fact that it was the guarantee that the redis- 
tribution of the land was final; secondarily upon the 
pressure from external enemies. Domestic policy, 
directed by these two facts, developed as the auto- 


cratic regime of a party. Liberty was the least of its 
concerns, equality the greatest; effort was applied 
to reducing to a minimum the economic differences 
between the citizens of the Soviet Republic; all other 
differences were ignored, and those in conflict with 
the equalitarian programme were repressed. Thus 
anti-Semitism has been practically rooted out in 
Soviet Russia, and barring the provocative action of 
fanatical Jewish "internationalists," Jews have been 
able to go their own way as Jews in no less peace and 
security than other Russians of the non-proletarian 

At the same time education was organized to estab- 
lish both in adults and in children — in children particu- 
larly — as firm a faith in the Socialist ideology as had 
ever obtained in the Christian. The new generation 
has been the overruling object of constructive regard 
in Soviet domestic policy. 

But faith without works is a danger and a dream. 
The hope for a genuine communism for the generation 
to come, Lenine recognized, lies not in the mere altera- 
tion of the ideas of the Russian people; it lies far more 
fundamentally in the establishment of the institutional 
conditions which control and direct ideas and generate 
and confirm the habits whereby institutions keep going. 
The industrialization of Russia is essential to the success 
of communism in Russia; it must be ready for the new 
generation which grows up. This, accordingly, had to 
become the constructive aim of Russian foreign policy. 
To accomplish this aim it is indispensable that the 
economic relations between Russia and the industrial 
states shall be restored as soon as possible. Lenine, 
perhaps more than any other statesman in Europe, 


realizes the organic character of modern industrial 
civilization: he accepts boldly and frankly the inevita- 
bility of industrialization and he is eager, as his sardonic 
statements show, to initiate as swiftly as possible the 
exchange of "socialistic wheat for capitalistic locomo- 
tives," which is the first step. He is ready to make 
extensive concessions for the sake of the swift expansion 
of machine industry in Russia. Hence military op- 
pression and militant propaganda in the east are 
accompanied with offers of all sorts of concessions 
and agreements in the west. There is every indication 
that the former are carried on to enable the Soviet 
Republic to add to the weight of the latter as items 
of exchange in return for recognition and trade. 

Now the commerce which would come to Russia as a 
result of an adjustment with the Allies would mitigate 
in a considerable degree a certain monopoly of the 
same now enjoyed in Europe by the United States. 
Whether the attitude of the American Government 
toward Soviet Russia has not largely been influenced 
by this fact would be a matter of curious speculation. 
The irony of the whole international situation lies in 
the major role which perhaps the most disinterested 
and powerful, the most naive and idealistic as well 
as the wealthiest state in the world has played in the 
making of it. Such democratic and abstractly philan- 
thropic trends as were apparent in the negotiations 
beginning with the armistice were more immediately the 
outcome of the attitude of the government of the 
United States. The eighteenth-century humanitarian- 
ism, the anti-monarchism, the republicanism, the 
deference to majorities, and the pacifism which are 
characteristic of the democratic ideology were, in 



fact, the operative sentiment of American public 
opinion with regard to the peace. The cordial attitude 
toward the first phases of the revolution in Russia, the 
dissolution of the central empires and the establish- 
ment of the aggregation of more or less democratic 
republics in their stead, the guarantees of the rights 
of national minorities, the pacific and philanthropic 
items of the covenant of the League of Nations, all 
expressed the positive traditional sentiment of the 
American people. But they looked backward rather 
than forward, and because they looked backward they 
enabled the American senate to play politics with the 
treaty without fear of public opinion, and they worked 
as disintegrating and anarchic rather than saving in- 
fluences upon the organization of Europe. 

The American retrospection was inherent and 
inevitable. It was a symptom of the strain created 
by the existence of a growing industrial economy 
under a fundamental law resting on agricultural 
foundations. The community had, since 1900, been 
drifting, without any definite conscious direction, a 
confusion and a tumult. No real political issues 
divided it into real parties, no economic classes had 
gained stability and tradition enough to give body to a 
class alignment. The only unfailing force in the re- 
molding of the national life was the much-used, but 
in its social effects altogether unstudied, automatic 
machine. National political thought looked, as a 
result, backward, to the lucid and articulate past, to 
the Constitution and the Fathers. It w T as motivated 
by memory rather than the present urgencies to which 
memory had become irrelevant. Unrest grew, in 
spite of prosperity, often because of it — and the end is 


not yet. The country grew sick of a neurasthenia 
from which the various "progressive' movements 
were interesting and inefficacious efforts at relief. 
The war did bring a degree of relief — unhappily tempo- 
rary. It could do so not because it required meeting a 
common enemy, but because it compelled political 
thought and administrative organization to pay con- 
scious attention to new and constant factors in the 
national life which had caused the conflicts of habit 
and feeling wherein consisted the national nervousness. 
From the time these factors came out into the open 
a tendency toward a rearrangement of the lines of 
force of the national life has been manifest. War pro- 
duction with its accompanying financial inflation has 
strengthened this tendency. The artificially created 
war psychology has strengthened it. The transference 
since the armistice of the war animus from the Ger- 
mans to the Russians, and the manifestations of Mr. 
Palmer's Okhrana and the "red hysteria" were symp- 
toms of it. For the rest, the public mind lost sight 
of Europe altogether. League of Nations or no League 
of Nations, the habitual American ideology had been 
realized through the war: America had grown tired 
of foreign entanglements; public attention turned in- 
ward to the issues of industrial conflict, high prices, 
and such, consideration of which, as a matter of fact, 
the war had interrupted. The only regard for matters 
alien which did survive survived in the form of per- 
secuting animosity toward anybody or anything strange 
and different, usually called at the time "Bolshevik." 
An Americanization craze, whose typical symptom 
is the concept " 100% American," exfoliated out of the 
red hysteria and Palmerism. The Constitution was 


treated as a fetish and Socialism as a devil. And the 
while the President was lying helpless on his bed 
with a clot on his brain, and the members of his 
bureaucracy either marked time, like the Department 
of the Interior or held high jinks, like the Department 
of Justice. 

Oblivious of Europe though America was, so far as 
the country's pertinent feeling and efficacious attention 
were concerned, Europe was kept present to the Ameri- 
can mind in two ways. First (and most significantly 
because of the political importance of their votes) by 
the poignant personal interest of great groups of Ameri- 
can citizens of central and east European extraction 
in the fate of their friends and relatives on that un- 
happy continent. This interest coalesced with the 
traditional humanitarianism of the American mind 
and imparted to the philanthropy of various American 
private relief organizations a certain political import. 
This import was, however, more sentimental than 
practical. It bore directly upon the second way in 
which Europe was kept before the American public — 
namely, upon the romantic interest of the ethnic groups 
in the political forms of the new sovereign states and 
enfranchised nationalities of central Europe. This 
interest was reenforced by diplomatic emissaries, 
propagandists, emigres, and agents and military heroes 
of Allied governments, particularly of France. They 
constructed for the admiration of the American public 
a pure image of the new democracies, their political 
forms somehow flattering imitations of the American, 
bravely struggling to hold their own and to "protect 
civilization from the menace of Bolshevism"; im- 
poverished, starved, of course, and in dire need of 


generous assistance, but assistance to be given as 
money loans to governments, not as the economic 
rehabilitation of peoples. The realities of the con- 
trolling economic correlations were nowhere and at 
no time in the picture. The starvation and misery 
of the populations were in no way connected with them, 
nor was there any realization of the mutual implications 
of political reconciliation and generosity with economic 
rehabilitation. Mr. Hoover, on the record, might 
have brought these realities into the picture, but got 
befooled and diverted by the politics of the coming 
presidential campaign. 



MISLEADING as were the pictures offered to Amer- 
ica of all the new states, the picture of Poland was most 
particularly so. The reason is not far to seek. Poland 
had been designed to become the fulcrum of the new 
hegemony of the continent by which harassed and 
almost bankrupt French imperialism hoped to evade 
taxation at home, to collect its debts abroad, and at the 
same time to insure itself against possible German 
rivalry and actual and well-deserved Russian animosity. 
That Poland was chosen and not the much more com- 
petent Czecho-Slovakia is due to precisely the reasons 
which render Poland an ineffectual means to such an 
end. It is due to the difference in the intelligence of 
the leadership, the difference between Masaryk and 
Dmowski or Pilsudski. Poland, like Russia, had been 
until late in the nineteenth century without a middle 
class of its own ethnic stock. From the beginning 
until practically the 1890's Poland was a state composed 
of feudal landlords, Catholic clergy, and peasant villeins. 
The landlords constituted an upper class of petty 
autocrats who lived mostly on their estates and devoted 
their days to hunting, fighting, intrigue, debauchery, 
and Jew-baiting. The economic work of the state 
was performed by the peasants. Its administration, 



manufactures, and commerce were delegated to these 
same baited Jews and to German immigrant bourgeois. 
These constituted what it needed of a middle class. 
They were, for obvious reasons, a middle class without 
the rights and powers of the middle class of other 
European states. They were able to offer no effective 
restriction or opposition to the profligate perversities 
of the Shlakhta and the government which it consti- 
tuted. Powers 1 says: 

Historic Poland was a signal failure. No government in 
Europe during the last thousand years has a record for more 
marked incompetency. Under the leadership of truly 
great sovereigns, the provincialism and local selfishness of 
the people proved obdurate to every appeal, even in the 
face of the most unmistakable national dangers. If ever a 
nation perished because it was unfit to live, that nation was 

The partition which, on the whole, brought a measure 
of relief to the Polish masses created a grievance for 
the classes, and outside of Galicia, which had gone to 
Catholic Austria, for the clergy. On the grievances 
of these two estates Polish nationalism was built. 
It would have been impotent but for the oppressive 
measures of Prussification and Russification of the 
other two participants in the partition. Because of 
those, the religious loyalties and the rudimentary 
cultural development of the Polish people received 
acceleration and intensification; the upper class, living 
either on its estates or in exile, but living always in 
idleness or adventure, became the protagonists of an 
idealized nationalist fantasy and the teachers and 
leaders of rebellion. 

1 "The Great Peace," p. 290. 


Meanwhile, the Jews continued to function as the 
Polish middle class. When the edge of the wave of 
industrialization reached as far as eastern Europe 
they were conspicuously the first to succumb to it. 
Together with Germans and Russians from the trading 
centres of Russia they created in Poland what was a 
great part of the industrial development of the Russian 
Empire. A town-dwelling people from the outset, 
they became the foundation of the proletarian industrial 
population of Poland, and constitute a very large part 
of it. The things they produced were sold in Russia, 
and the outstanding fact about industrial Poland has 
been its economic interdependence with Russia. The 
influences which generated a socialist attitude toward 
life in intellectual Russia generated the same at- 
titude among the Poles, with this difference — that in 
Russia it was atheistic, universalist, and revolutionary, 
in Poland it was Catholic, nationalist, and rebellious. 
It took form among the proletarianized Poles as the 
Polish Socialist Party, among the Jews as the General 
Association (Bund) of Jewish Workingmen. The 
Romanist-nationalist character of the former was re- 
flected in the somewhat milder nationalistic outlook 
of the latter. Both were opposed by the National 
Democratic Party, whose interests and leadership 
were entirely those of the baronial Shlakhta and the 
land-owning peasantry. The differences between the 
two Polish parties separated them less than their 
common anti-Semitism united them. The more in- 
tellectual among them demanded of the Jews complete 
Polonization while, at the same time, they denounced 
the Russians for a similar demand for the Russification 
of the Poles. For the quarter of a century preceding 


the war the Jews were used politically as pawns and 
stalking-horses of the religious nationalism of the 
Poles and the cultural imperialism of the Russians. 
When, under the influence of industrialization, the 
landed aristocracy began to become an investing class 
and traces of a Polish middle class became apparent, 
the Polonizing movement took the form of an eco- 
nomic boycott, which aiming at the "polonization of 
commerce' ' drove the Jews still more definitely into 
industry. The initiator of the policy was an anti- 
Semitic candidate for the Duma who had been defeated 
by the Jewish vote — Roman Dmowski, the head of 
the National Democratic Party, and later head of 
the Polish National Committee in Paris. 

When the war came this party adopted a philo- 
Russian and pro-Ally policy; under this policy its anti- 
Semitism took the form of pro-German accusations 
against the Jews. The Polish Party, headed by Pil- 
sudski, adopted an attitude of militant pro-Germanism, 
with the view of using opportunity as it might arise 
for the advantage of Polish independence. The 
German occupation of Poland soon provided such 
an opportunity. The government that was then 
established, the constitution that was adopted, and 
such protection that the Germans gave was a protection 
to the powers of that party. Anti-Semitism during 
the period took the form of pro-Russian accusations 
against the Jews. When, finally, the Germans were 
turned out, and it became apparent that the Dmowski- 
Paderewski-Grabski combination had outguessed the 
Pilsudski-Kuchzarewski crowd, there was some un- 
certainty as to whether any sort of peace could be 
patched up between the parties. The baronial- 


clericalist National Democratic Committee had the 
ear and the good-will of the Allies, particularly of 
France; the Polish Socialist Party and Pilsudski had the 
sympathy of the Polish townsmen and tenant peas- 
antry. The government which was finally created was a 
compromise: Pilsudski received the presidency and 
Dmowski, Paderewski, and company received the 
power. The new rulers of Poland thus are all men 
of the ancient regime, whose habits of mind are im- 
perialistic and codes of behaviour feudal. Among 
them was an individual who as an official of the Aus- 
trian Empire had as much to do as any one with pre- 
cipitating the Great War. 

Poland, independent once more, was restored into 
the hands of the class which had lost her her freedom. 
It was this class which unwillingly signed the Treaty 
of Versailles. It had learned nothing and had for- 
gotten nothing. Its ideal is mediaeval Poland. It 
still lives on warfare, Jew-baiting, and vainglory. 
Incompetent to put its house in order, to face the 
realities of a genuine reconstruction, its imperialistic 
aggression aroused the bitter enmity'of Esthonia, Latvia, 
and Lithuania, and then proceeded to draw the usual 
red herring across its track by charging the Jews 
with Bolshevism, by permitting — if not inciting — 
and condoning pogroms, and by lying about them 
under investigation. From the reports brought back 
both by Mr. Henry Morgenthau and Sir Stuart Samuel 
the inference is inescapable that the Polish Government, 
in the interests of the class which it represents, is 
sabotaging the treaty upon which Polish independence 
is conditioned. It is sabotaging the treaty knowingly 
and with impunity, for the League of Nations is aborted. 


and the hands of the Great Powers are bound. Mean- 
while, although grudging economic reforms were grudg- 
ingly enacted, they were not enforced; starvation 
and disease were as extensive among the masses as 
was luxury among the classes; discontent became so 
intense as to require a more adventurous and less- 
habitual safety-valve than Jew-baiting. The obvious 
one was the traditional high moral business of defend- 
ing the marches of civilization — now against Soviet 
Russia, as once against the Turks. So there was 
launched a brazen and merry war of unmitigated ag- 
gression in the interests of the land-barons who had 
holdings beyond the boundaries of ethnographic 
Poland. Its spirit is an inflated nationalism which 
misery and disaster must inevitably explode. Its 
sinews are the military and financial charity of France 
and England and the United States. Its victim is the 
one country upon whose markets the rehabilitation 
of Poland and her development as an industrial state 
most of all depends. The will of Poland to fight 
Russia depends on the survival of Shlakhta control; 
the strength of Poland to fight Russia depends upon 
either French suzerainty or commerce with Russia; 
and commerce with Soviet Russia is bound to mitigate 
if not to abolish Shlakhta rule and to render war between 
Poland and Russia progressively more difficult. French 
imperialism has played very stupidly in eastern 
Europe. It has played stupidly because it has ignored, 
wilfully, the conditions upon which strength depends 
in an industrialized world. 

The extraordinary blindness of the imperialistic 
policy for central Europe has been even more conspicu- 
ous in the fate of Little Russia or Ukrainia, This 


unhappy land was conceived of, together with Poland, 
as a principal instrument in the establishment of the 
Gallic hegemony of the continent. Victim, until the 
successful Chmelnitzki uprising, of the traditional 
practices of the Polish overlordship, it united, as in- 
surance against the repetition of the terrible Polish 
exploitation, with Great Russia, in 1654. Only eastern 
Galicia, with its six million Ruthenians, remained in 
Polish hands, and passed at the partition under the 
dominion of the Austrian crown. Bitterly inimical 
to the Poles by tradition, although closer to them than 
to the Russo-Ruthenians in religion (they are Uniate 
Roman Catholics) the Ruthenians of Galicia, with the 
encouragement of the Austrian Government, retained 
and developed their linguistic and cultural traditions 
and their nationalist aspirations. During the war they 
became the agents and centre of German anti-Russian 
propaganda in Ukrainia, and of Russian anti-German 
propaganda in Galicia. They acquiesced in the German 
project of a united and autonomous Ukrainia under Aus- 
trian hegemony. This project was to some degree carried 
out. An independent Ukrainia, protected by German 
arms, was in fact established under the Hetman Skorop- 
adski, and the recognition of this independence was 
exacted in the Treaty of Brest-Litovsk. The Treaty of 
Versailles having abrogated the arrangements of Brest- 
Litovsk, the Ruthenians of Galicia, instead of being 
joined with their own people of the Ukraine, fell again 
under the dominion of the Poles, unsecured by anything 
except the inefficacious provisions regarding the security 
and freedom of national minorities. In Ukrainia proper 
Skoropadski was displaced by Petliura. And then the 
shattering of that unhappy land began. 


A wide alluvial plain, watered by three great rivers, 
Ukraina is one of the granaries of Europe. Like the 
larger part of Poland it is flat land, without natural 
barriers. The population is mostly a peasantry, who 
at various times have been members or victims of the 
Cossack bands. The cities — Kiev, Kishinev, Ekate- 
rinoslav, Kherson, Odessa — all have a very large Jewish 
population. Prior to the war, there were in all about 
3,000,000 Jews in this very considerable and important 
portion of the old Russian Empire. There, also, they 
composed economically the commercial and industrial 
class. Politically, they were, after Versailles, sub- 
jected to the traditional use of pawns in the political 
game that was being played out in the Ukraine. 

The motives in the game were the anti-Bolshevism 
of the Allies, the mediaeval imperialism of the Poles, 
and the nationalism of the Ukrainian National Council. 
This nationalism expressed itself in the government 
of Petliura — the so-called Directorate — and took force 
in an army made up largely of demobilized peasants 
and khlops. The anti-Bolshevism of the Allies had 
for its instrument the reactionary government and 
volunteer army of Denikine. This person and his 
pretensions were hated by the Ukrainian khlops even 
more than the Poles. Hence, when in January, 1919, 
Petliura's forces were defeated by the armies of the 
Soviet Republic, the Ukrainian population was dis- 
posed to welcome the Soviet regime in spite of the 
hardships of an imposed communism. Petliura's troops, 
meanwhile, broke up into bands, each under a Hetman, 
and proceeded — not without an understanding with 
what had escaped of the Petliura government into 
Galicia — to ravage the unarmed Jewish populations 


in the cities and villages. The justification offered 
was the claim that the Jews were Bolsheviks and that 
they were responsible for the defeat of the Petliura 
forces at the hands of the Soviet Republic. A proc- 
lamation of the Hetman Simchenko called for "death 
for the old because they brought up Bolsheviks; death 
to the women for having brought them into the world ; 
death to the children so that they may not grow up 
into Bolsheviks!" 

To the Jews, the Ukraine of 1920 reduplicated 
the Ukraine of 1648. By July of that year there had 
been 2,000 pogroms; 259,000 Jews had been killed, 
250,000 more had died of causes related to the pogroms; 
innumerable capital levies had been made, houses 
and streets destroyed and towns raided. The Jews 
had been reduced to a condition of terror and disinte- 
gration without parallel even in their own history. 
In this reduction, the policy and army of Denikine had 
a role no less murderously distinguished. Nor did the 
Poles fail to live up to the standards set by their 
religious traditions and secular practices. With a 
claim to East Galicia of the most mythical sort, they 
established themselves in Lemberg by force, precipitat- 
ing immediately their old conflict with the Ruthenians 
(who insisted on their solidarity with the Ukraine), or- 
ganizing and encouraging pogroms. When Petliura, 
desperate, invited the alliance of the Poles in return for 
the recognition of their claims to East Galicia, the 
Ruthenians repudiated him for Denikine. But they 
found Denikine intolerable, and in the end returned to 
Petliura, who meanwhile, calling upon the hetmans 
of the various bands to rejoin him, marched with 
Pilsudski into Kiev. The ultimate victory of the 


Soviet Republic is a foregone conclusion. The rein- 
corporation of Ukrainia, or an intimate economic union 
between the Soviet Republic and an autonomous 
Ukrainia, is a foregone conclusion. By the vigour of 
its military discipline, by its adequate police and sani- 
tary measures, by the security it assures to life, and 
within the limits of its rigid equalitarian programme, 
to property, the Republic has made itself the least 
disagreeable of the political alternatives to all sections 
of the population of the Ukraine. 

But the most ironic consequences of the peace and 
its administration are to be seen in Hungary. Invaded 
after the conclusion of the armistice of November 4, 
1918, by Serbian, Czecho-Slovak, and Rumanian armies, 
only five of her sixty-three counties were free of enemy 
occupation. This occupation rendered impossible elec- 
tions for a constituent assembly, and cut off the great 
city of Buda-Pesth, her population more than doubled 
by refugees, from medicine, fuels, raw materials, and 
food. Protests to Paris were of no avail. The Karolyi 
government, postulated upon the Wilsonian policy, 
found itself unable to withstand the attacks of mon- 
archists and counter-revolutionaries on the one hand 
and communists on the other. Hungary, like Poland, 
with which it has great religious and moral kinship, 
had in the course of the preceding generation been 
undergoing industrialization. With industrialization 
had come an intellectual revival in which the centre 
of Hungarian attention shifted from a rather narrow 
and turbid clericalist nationalism to a Europeanism 
like that of the more European and western peoples. 

The leaders in this "Western" movement had been, 
numerously and conspicuously, " Hungarians of Jewish 


blood," who constitute a very large portion of the middle 
and intellectual class of the land. With the Jewish 
communities of Hungary from which they sprang they 
had nothing whatsoever to do. Assimilated and 
passionate Magyars, they figured as conspicuously 
in the industrial and political movements that were 
the correlates of the literary, as they did in the literary. 
Under the Hapsburgs, the journals they edited, and 
the groups and parties they led and instructed, de- 
veloped into centres of liberal and radical opposition. 
When, because of the stress of the failure of the Karolyi 
government to meet the situation created by the bad 
faith of the Supreme Council and its agents, the move- 
ment toward Communism began, it began naturally in 
connection with these journals and organizations. 
Neither political nor military action was able to quash 
the movement. Deportation of Bolshevist agitators — 
ordered by the French — did not reduce it; nor did 
imprisonment reduce it. Demobilized soldiers without 
jobs, workmen unemployed because the Allied block- 
ade cut off raw materials and fuel, agricultural labourers 
driven to town by the enemy occupation flocked to 
the Soviet standards. Even the attempt at calling 
elections — in spite of the difficulty created by the 
occupation — and passing agrarian reforms failed to 
stem the tide. The communist revolution in Hungary 
was the result of a general mass-movement and ex- 
pressive of the will of the Hungarian people. 

The government this revolution established was a 
dictatorship not purely communist — it was a coalition 
between the communists and the social democrats. 
It avoided, as well as it could, the errors of the Russian 
Soviet Republic. It tried to upset as little as possible 


the going economy of the country. Of course, it 
expropriated those who lived on rent, profits, and in- 
terest, and sought to put them to work. But it kept 
in its own employ the managements of the industries 
and of the great estates; it recognized and rewarded 
individual superiorities in capacity and responsibility; 
and it planned to couple with the gradual democratiza- 
tion of agriculture and industry the Taylor system 
and piece work. It gave the same passionate attention 
to the education of the masses as the Russian Govern- 
ment, and it honoured and rewarded the teachers 
by assigning them the highest salaries allowable under 
the constitution, salaries equal to those of the members 
of the government themselves. 

Its most difficult stumbling-block was the same as 
in Russia — the peasants and the peasant psychology. 
Mainly tenantry or agricultural workers on great 
estates, entirely under the dominion of an illiterate 
and intriguing Roman Catholic clergy, suffused with 
anti-Semitism, these peasants were eager to possess the 
land, but were not eager to communize its management 
and control. The government of Bela Kun tried to 
deal with them as tactfully as possible. It refrained 
from "socializing" the small farmers. It worked the 
large estates in the old way but with a new morale. 
It looked to education and the lapse of time to effect 
the desired modifications in the mentality of this mass 
of the population too great to be coerced and too slow- 
witted to be convinced. General Smuts, sent from 
Paris to survey the situation, reported himself "well- 

The fact was, that the government of Bela Kun was 
making an experiment, within the limits of reasonable 


control, in easing the adjustment and interpehetration 
of industrial with agricultural economy. It was mak- 
ing this experiment under insuperable difficulties — 
without fuel or raw materials in the factories and with 
insufficient food in the cities. The success or failure 
of this experiment under its own weight and strength 
would have been a distinct service to mankind, and 
every facility ought to have been supplied it to work 
itself out in peace. But the Supreme Council was as 
terrified by "Bolshevism' 1 as, a century before, the 
Holy Alliance had been terrified by "democracy." 
When the communist arms were victorious over 
Czecho-Slovakia and had overrun two thirds of Slovakia 
it offered Bela Kun a definitive peace provided he would 
surrender all the fruits of his victory and withdraw his 
troops. But when he did what it wished and with- 
drew his troops, it repudiated the offer as a ''clerical 
error." Turning then in despair against the other 
invader — the Rumanian who also was occupying 
Hungary in violation of the armistice — with a force 
half his size, Kun suffered a calamitous defeat and 
the Rumanians marched into Buda-Pesth. Paris 
then offered the Social Democrats of the Kun govern- 
ment to lift the blockade if Kun would resign. To 
save his fellow-countrymen Kun did resign and a 
moderate socialist government replaced his. But 
the whole action was nullified by the unspeakable 
Rumanians. They organized a terror against the 
"communists," in a month killing 6,000 intellectuals 
and Jews. They looted the country with a thorough- 
ness beside which the Germans in Belgium — even in 
the earliest days — are as innocent as new-born babes. 
They propagated anti-Semitism and carried out po- 


groms. They encouraged counter-revolutionaries, who 
brought the Archduke Joseph into power. 

This was more than even the Supreme Council — 
certainly than Mr. Wilson, whose anti-monarchism 
at least is adamant — could tolerate. Joseph was 
driven out and a new government, or a succession of 
them, was installed. The counter-revolution, with 
Horthy for its figurehead, placed itself forcefully 
in the saddle. The constitutional reforms created by 
the Karolyi government and the communists were 
abolished. A narrow franchise was established and 
the monarchical principle reaffirmed. Freemasonry, 
for reasons best known to the clericals, was suppressed. 
The White Terror was amplified into a pogrom. The 
party "Awakened Magyars" was organized. Officers 
of the late imperial army, persons with titles, feudal 
landlords, distinguished Catholics, were gathered 
into terrorist bands, who murdered, raped, and stole 
and committed unspeakable outrages upon workmen, 
Socialists and Jews, particularly Jews. The press 
was subjected to a rigid censorship. Martial law was 
declared. The peasantry were reduced to a state 
infinitely more miserable than under the autocratic 
Communist regime, and far worse than under the 
Hapsburgs. The workmen and their organizations 
were proscribed. Unparalleled anti- Jewish laws were 
enacted. An arrangement was made with the Entente, 
perhaps with France alone, by which Hungary is to 
maintain a large army against the Bolsheviks. The 
details of the witches' Sabbath which the counter- 
revolution instituted and maintained in Hungary 
may be read in the separate reports of the commissions 
of inquiry sent by the International Federation of 


Trades Unions and the British Labour Party. The 
findings of both led to the reimposition of the blockade 
upon Hungary until the White Terror should cease and 
freedom and security be restored. This blockade 
was an entirely new thing in the history of civilization. 
It was not a blockade by governments but by the or- 
ganized workers of the world. It was common interna- 
tional action postulated upon the economy of industry 
and the consciousness of solidarity, power, and inter- 
dependence which the experience of the war has bred 
among the trade-unionists of Europe. It is these who, 
having discovered how, have become the effective 
champions of a Europe safe for democracy. 

The philosophy and ideal which underlie the tyran- 
nous terror of Hungary are those of the class which 
more than any other had served to precipitate the 
Great War. It has simply transferred its animus from 
the Slavs and Rumanians, whom the peace has re- 
moved from its power, to the Jews. It exhibits a 
mediaeval zest in the obscenities it commits upon them. 
For it has the mediaeval mind. It is the class of 
clericals and landlords, in no important way differing 
from the similar class in Poland. It hates not com- 
munism alone. It is inimical to mere democracy. 
It desires the feudal respect for authority, the peonized 
peasant and exploited workman. It wants the exter- 
mination of the Jews . It wants to establish in Hungary 
a "Christian national system" by which it means 
a system wherein its own privileges will be forever 
secure. Its identification of anti-Semitism with anti- 
Bolshevism is no accident. In Hungary also the Jew 
is being put to the traditional use of scapegoat. 

The role of the Rumanians in the creation and main- 


tenance of this situation is one of the blackest spots 
in the black history of the rulers of that land. It is a 
role dictated by the need to divert public attention 
from the sabotaged fulfilment of promised economic 
reforms, and to find an outlet for the anger caused 
among the unspeakable land-barons and bureaucracy 
by the minority clauses in the peace treaty. Rumania, 
more than any other Balkan country, has been a land- 
lord's paradise. The exploitation of the peasant has 
been unutterably thorough, in fact, mediaeval, and 
the development of a political opposition has been a 
function of the bitter need of the peasants. Prior 
to Rumanian participation in the Great War, this 
need was on the point of compelling agrarian reform. 
The instability of the country was then so great that 
even a revision of the anti- Jewish laws was pledged, 
and this was bound up with the enfranchisement of 
the peasant. The Rumanian bargain with the En- 
tente, by which Rumania entered the war in return 
for the promise of an "ethnic Rumania" at the ex- 
pense of Austria-Hungary and Russia, was not popular 
with the people. The disastrous campaign of the 
Rumanian armies was due not only to deficient general- 
ship and Russian bureaucratic treachery but to 
defective morale. In the peace of Bucharest the 
Germans took advantage of this situation to bind 
the Rumanian upper classes to themselves in terms 
of benefits. The rights of the Jews which the treaty 
purported to conserve were conserved in the spirit 
and practice of the Rumanian constitution and the 
Rumanian land-barons. The treaty and the German 
occupation offered a complete alibi for the failure 
to execute the promised reforms; a dangerous failure, 


in view of the close connection between defeat and 
revolution. This connection the government of Ru- 
mania understood. It was afraid to demobilize. Its 
swift invasion and looting of Hungary, its violation 
of the terms of the armistice, its hide-and-seek policy 
with the Peace Conference were designed to neutralize 
the psychological consequences of defeat with at least 
the simulation of victory — even over an outnumbered, 
disarmed, and beaten foe. Its anti-Semitism in Hun- 
gary was part and parcel of the same policy by which 
it tried to escape accepting the minority -rights treaty, 
and after accepting it, sought to delay and sabotage 
its enactment by postponing the election of a new 
parliament to ratify it, among the other familiar de- 
vices of diplomatic sabotage. 

In Rumania, as in other states, the cause of the Jews 
and the cause of the masses of the people are identical, 
the status of the former is a direct index of the freedom 
and culture of the latter. Now, with the accession of 
Bessarabia and Transylvania the Rumanian Govern- 
ment acquired dominion over more than 500,000 addi- 
tional Jews. The total number of Jews within the 
Rumanian borders and entitled to citizenship becomes 
well-nigh a million. Should the traditional Rumanian 
rule be applied to them, they would be automatically 
outlawed. For the government of Rumania, in order 
to evade the application of articles 43 and 44 of the 
Treaty of Berlin by which, in 1878, Rumania became 
an independent kingdom, formulated into law what 
under the Christian dispensation had been the social 
position of the Jews in Europe since their disfranchise- 
ment in the fourth century by the Emperor Constantius. 
It designated the Jews as "aliens without foreign 


protection" — that is, as aliens "in the eyes of the 
law . . . even without the protection of alienage, 
since allegiance on their part to any other government 
is not recognized. They were literally looked upon as 
men without a country," 1 without opportunity, without 
hope, without redress. 

Only the most explicit guarantees could save minori- 
ties in a land of so black and so ingenious a medieval- 
ism. These guarantees were given, not voluntarily. 
That the ruling classes will continue to sabotage them 
is a foregone conclusion. They face a repetition, on a 
larger scale, of the revolution of 1907. Their habits 
of mind are such that inevitably they will evade the 
task of eradicating the causes of social unrest, which 
alone can solve the problem; they will merely seek to 
divert attention by spreading sentiments and organizing 
action against the Jews. 

Poland, the Ukraine, Hungary, Rumania — these lands 
are all lands of primarily an agrarian economy, with no 
middle class to speak of, backward, illiterate, ruled by 
land-barons and exploited by priests; the most ad- 
vanced of them is only at the beginnings of its democ- 
racy — even in the eighteenth-century sense of that 
term. A free government dedicated to the protection 
and development of the Rousseauist-Jeffersonian "in- 
alienable rights," of "life, liberty, and the pursuit 
of happiness" would, with the best good-will, still have 
to take into consideration habits of thought and feeling, 
the inertias of tradition and their modification by the 
inescapable economic pressure and psychological in- 
fluence of the automatic machine upon its people. 

1 Memorial to President Wilson by representatives of the American 
Jewish Congress, March, 1919. 


It would have to depend upon rigorous preventive 
justice, education, and industrialization to create 
new habits and to establish a new ideology which in 
course of time should save the people and prevent 
Europe from going shipwreck. That they might be 
destined to success may be gathered from the experi- 
ence of Czecho-Slovakia and of the short-lived Magyar 
Commune. Now the governments of Poland and 
Rumania and Hungary are governments of and for a 
class, not a people, and the Ukraine has been the 
battlefield of opposed interests and ideologies without 
regard to its people. Given the actualities of the 
situation, hence, their organized anti-Semitism and 
their fathering of Bolshevism upon the Jews were 
deducible phenomena. Not so easily deducible is 
the appearance of the same phenomena, in forms 
somewhat less virulent, also in industrialized countries 
like Germany and German Austria. Their scope and 
extent varied with the increase of hunger, insecurity, 
and disease, and the correlative reactionary reversions 
to more primitive states of mind which accompany these. 
In these countries, too, there has been manifest the 
witch-hunting tendency to attribute the countries' 
ills to the Jews. Moreover, anti-Semitic sentiment 
and propaganda appeared in France and even in England 
and America. Wherever members of the old regime 
in Russia, in Germany, or elsewhere in central Europe 
found or retained a footing they generated or brought 
with them and sought to spread this social poison 
surviving from the Middle Ages. 

A comic opera item in the activities of this conspiracy 
was the revival and extensive use of the so-called 
"Protocols of the Elders of Zion." These protocols 


are the last chapter in a typical book by a reputed 
typical paranoid Russian mystic, one Nilus, in which 
Nilus traces a divine comedy of approved mediaeval 
type in terms of his own mystical experiences, and 
those of his friends and his time, supported by docu- 
ments manufactured ad hoc. An Orthodox and a 
Russian, he makes the Jews the devil of the comedy, 
ascribing to them a conspiracy to rule the world. The 
sources of his fantasy may well be a book by one 
Goedsche, a convicted forger, called "Goeta, Warschau 
and Dueppel," extensively used by Junker anti-Semites 
in Germany and similarly worked in Russian form by the 
Tsarist government during the troubles of 1905-1906. 
Its present use in the English-speaking world is as- 
sociated with a person calling himself Frazier Curtis, 
operating from London, and one Henry Ford, a very 
rich maker of cheap automobiles who gave the non- 
sense extensive circulation through his paper, the 
Dearborn Independent, published at Dearborn, near 
Detroit, U. S. A. It was first published in the Morning 
Post, of London. Regarding it, Mr. Lucien Wolf writes 
in the Manchester Guardian: 

The prodigious essay on "The Cause of World Unrest " 
which the Morning Post has lately published in seventeen 
articles and some sixty columns of printed matter is a docu- 
ment on which the student of political thought in England 
will dwell sadly. Over a century ago, in world circumstances 
of startling similarity and almost from the same party 
standpoint, Burke gave us, in his "Causes of the Present 
Discontents," his "Reflections," and his "Regicide Peace," 
a large and stately piece of political philosophy. To-day 
the leading organ of Conservative opinion in this country 
can only expound a sort of political demonology, borrowed 
partly from the obscurantists of Bourbon Clericalism and 


partly from the fanatics of Hohenzollern Anti-Semitism. 
It would be merciful to pass by this strange effort in silence, 
but unfortunately there is reason to believe that with all 
its grotesqueness, it is calculated to work a good deal of 
mischief. Credulous and vicious people are still abundant, 
and they are not confined to the crowd. Mr. Winston 
Churchill has darkly hinted that he reads the signs of the 
times much in the same way as the Morning Post, and a 
curious story is current that the translation of the Russian 
forgery on which the theory of that journal mainly rests 
was actually made in the Intelligence Department of the 
War Office. Then there are Mr. Chesterton and Mr. 
Belloc and quite a conventicle of smaller fry who have been 
vainly preaching the same apocalypse for years. The 
Morning Post may bring them recruits, and that assuredly 
is not desirable. 

The theory of the Morning Post may be briefly stated. 
Its fundamental contention is that all political unrest is 
artificial. It is a product of the Hidden Hand which is 
now revealed to us as a "Formidable Sect" encompassing 
the world. This sect has been at its present work for at 
least a hundred and fifty years. The French Revolution 
was contrived by it, as well as all the subordinate revolutions 
down to our own time. Trade Unionism, Socialism, Syndic- 
alism, Bolshevism, Sinn Fein, Indian Nationalism, and their 
analogues in every part of the globe are outward and visible 
signs of its sinister activity. That there are social grievances 
and even evils at the root of this unrest is not denied, but 
they are as artificial as the unrest itself. They have all been 
deliberately brought about by the Hidden Hand in order 
to stir up revolt against the Throne and Altar. The way 
in which it is done is a little complicated. Behind the 
restless and seditious movements which we all know there 
is a secret revolutionary organization in the shape of Free- 
masonry. But this is only intermediate, for Freemasonry 
itself, through some obscure transaction between the Temp- 
lars and the Old Man of the Mountain, was created by 
the "Formidable Sect," and is wholly, though perhaps un- 
consciously, under its control. 


Now what is this "Formidable Sect"? It is no other 
than the Jews. Those ancient enemies of the human race 
are alleged to be far more daring and dynamic in evil-doing 
than is generally supposed. Throughout their world-wide 
Dispersion they have secretly preserved their old political 
organization, and they have used it — and are still using it — 
with deadly persistency to overturn the established Christian 
order of things and to found in its place a universal Jewish 
dominion under the sceptre of a Sovereign of the House of 
David. The Jews are, in short, the "cause of the world 

There is nothing new in this theory except the claim of 
its authors to have produced documentary proof of its final 
development — that is, of its Jewish aspect. It was invented 
over a century ago, as it has been resurrected to-day, to 
explain the unfamiliar international character of the pre- 
vailing unrest. The clergy and the nobility of the ancien 
regime were as little capable as the Morning Post to-day 
of understanding the natural causes of this phenomenon. 
And yet they were by no means obscure. The French 
Revolution, as Burke pointed out, was not a mere uprising 
against local oppression, but a "revolution of doctrine and 
theoretic dogma" which was bound to find echoes beyond 
the French frontiers. In this respect it resembled the 
Reformation, and also that other "armed doctrine" which 
we know as Bolshevism. Nevertheless, it puzzled the 
Bourbon apologists, and, confusing cause and effect, they 
became convinced that they were in the presence of an 
international conspiracy. The theory was first propounded 
by a Superior of the Seminary of Eudists at Caen in 1790, 
but it was afterward vastly developed by the Abbe Barruel 
in his "Memoires sur le Jacobinisme," by Robinson of 
Edinburgh in his "Proofs of a Conspiracy," and by the 
Chevalier de Malet in his "Recherches Historiques." Their 
conclusion was that there was a triple conspiracy of Phi- 
losophers, Freemasons, and Illuminati who form an actual 
sect aiming deliberately and methodically at the overthrow 
of the established religions and Governments throughout 
Europe. The theory had a short shrift, though the industry 


of its authors did much to throw light on the organization 
and activities of the secret societies. So far as the Free- 
masons and Illuminati were concerned it was easily demol- 
ished by the Earl of Moira, who, at a meeting of the Grand 
Lodge of England in 1800, showed convincingly that it was 
a mare's nest. As for the Philosophers, no one ever took 
the charge against them seriously. For half a century 
scarcely anything more was heard of this aspect of the 
"Formidable Sect," though meanwhile the revolutions of 
1830 and 1848 had taken place. The nonsuit of Barruel 
was chose jugee. 

It was revived in the sixties under the influence of the 
religious passions kindled by the war for Italian unity. 
The struggle for Jewish emancipation had triumphed all 
over western Europe, and the new citizens thus enfranchised 
had everywhere cast in their lot with the Liberal parties. 
This was swiftly and angrily noted by the Ultramontane 
polemists, and the old bogey of a "Formidable Sect" began 
to haunt them in a new and enlarged form. In the new 
conspiracy there was no longer any talk of Philosophers 
and Illuminati. Their place was taken by Jews and Prot- 
estants. The "Formidable Sect" thus became a triple 
alliance of Freemasons, Jews, and Protestants which was 
said to be directed by the "Grand Master Palmerston" 
and supported by the whole British people, not only as Prot- 
estants but as descendants of the Lost Tribes of Israel and 
the subjects of a dynasty claiming descent from the House 
of David. The chief protagonist of this stupendous halluci- 
nation was M. Gougenot des Mousseaux, who in 1869 em- 
bodied it in a volume entitled "Le Juif, le Judaisme, et la 
Judaisation des Peuples Chretiens." From his own ad- 
missions, however, it appears that he was largely indebted 
to German Catholic inspiration. Once again the theory 
failed to find support, and Gougenot 's book, like the books 
of Barruel and Robinson, became relegated to the literature 
of forgotten crazes. 

Later on, however, attempts to revive it were made by 
M. de Saint-Andre, the Abbe Chabauty, M. Drumont, M. 
Martin, and M. Copin-Ablancelli, in the full flood of Anti- 


Semitic agitation which had been imported into France from 
Germany. The only notable addition made to the theory 
by these writers was the hypothesis of a secret Jewish 
government, transported from Jerusalem into the Diaspora, 
which, throughout the ages, has never ceased to command 
the allegiance of international Jewry and to conspire against 
the established order of Christian Society. Since 1909 
the agitation has become retransferred to the headquarters 
of Clerical Anti-Semitism in Vienna and Munich, and the 
most recent works on the subject with which the Morning 
Post appears to have mainly worked, although for obvious 
reasons it does not acknowledge them — are WichtPs 
" Weltfreimaurerei, Wei tre volution, Weltrepublik," Meister's 
"Judas Schuldbuch," and Rosenberg's "Die Spur des Judens 
im Wandel der Zeiten," all published in 1919. All this 
literature, while expounding exactly the same theory as 
that of the Morning Post, is as violently anti-English as it is 
anti-Masonic and an ti- Jewish. 

This, then, is the discredited raw material of the theory 
hashed up as a serious contribution to the grave political 
preoccupations of British statesmanship at this moment. 
It will be noted, however, that in the forms so far referred 
to it is confessedly a theory, resting at the best on evidence 
of a highly circumstantial character. The novelty in its 
latest presentation is that an effort is made to bolster it up 
with what is claimed to be direct evidence. This takes the 
form of a document entitled "The Protocols of the Learned 
Elders of Zion," which was published in an anonymous 
pamphlet a few months ago by Messrs. Eyre and Spottis- 
woode. These protocols are alleged to be the minutes 
of certain meetings of the Secret Directory of the Jewish 
people held in Paris toward the end of the last century, 
and they record avowals by the Elders, of the very conspir- 
acy set forth hypothetically by M M. Gougenot des Mous- 
seaux and Copin-Albancelli. "In this book," says the 
Morning Post triumphantly, "for the first time we find an 
open declaration of the terrible conspiracy of the 'Formida- 

Unhappily for those who rely on it this document is a 


clumsy forgery which has already been used for the most 
disreputable purposes. It has been known to the Jewish 
community for some years. The first draft of it was fabri- 
cated in 1868 by an official in the Prussian Post Office named 
Hermann Goedsche, who was dismissed from the service on 
account of more vulgar forgeries. It was long a stock 
broadsheet of the German Anti-Semites. In 1905 it was 
used in Russia by the secret police for pogrom propaganda, 
and it was afterward embodied in a politico-apocalyptic 
book on Antichrist by a disciple of Father John of Cronstadt, 
one Serge Nilus, who sought to show that the old "For- 
midable Sect " of Gougenot des Mousseaux, consisting of Jews 
and Freemasons under the direction of England, was the 
real Antichrist. This book was used to persuade the credu- 
lous Tsar to conclude a secret treaty with the German Em- 
peror aimed at England and the Entente. In 1918 and 1919 
doctored typewritten copies of the protocols, with the 
anti-English passages carefully deleted, were secretly cir- 
culated by emissaries of Koltchak's and Denikine's intelli- 
gence service among Cabinet Ministers and other officials 
of the Allied and Associated Powers, with the object of show- 
ing that Bolshevism was an exclusively Jewish creation 
and that the whole Russian people were innocent of it. 
It was then that, thanks to the American Department of 
Justice, the Jewish community were made aware of their 
existence. They had already done considerable mischief, 
as may be seen by the propaganda leaflets distributed by 
the aeroplane service of the British armies at Archangel 
and Murmansk and certain oracular utterances of Mr. 
Winston Churchill in a Sunday newspaper. 

Last year the idea occurred to certain enterprising people 
who had been concerned in these manoeuvres, and who were 
justly affrighted by the impending collapse of Denikine, 
that money might be made out of the protocols. Accord- 
ingly, certain of the Jewish Delegations in Paris were ap- 
proached with an intimation that these precious documents 
were about to be published, and the kindly offer was made 
to spare Israel this damning disclosure for the trifling sum 
of £10,000. 


The upshot of the matter is that the "Formidable Sect" 
is a German Anti-Semitic and Anglophobe myth constructed 
out of garbled history and synthetized by impudent forgery. 
How and for what purpose it has been foisted on the in- 
nocence of the Morning Post have yet to be explained. 

Mr. Wolf's review, it will be observed, gives indica- 
tions of the existence of something like a gigantic 
international conspiracy against the Jews designed 
everywhere to link them with the contemporary devil 
of respectable society — Bolshevism. Even in Palestine, 
the Bishop of Jerusalem, a most respectable man, and 
a pillar of the Church of England, objected to Zionism 
because of this imputed linkage. 

That the linkage is more often than not malicious 
and mythopoetic does not alter the fact that it is made 
— and that it is believed. Nor is this fact much 
modified by the observation that the attribution is 
invariably made by parties of reaction, clericalism, 
and privilege and that the champions of the Jews are 
the contemporary champions of the rights of man — 
the workmen's organizations like the British Labour 
Party, the men of letters, the liberals, the scientists. 
We are here face to face with a characteristic phase 
of Christian psychology. It is a phenomenon which is 
part and parcel of the recrudescence of atavistic 
traits in European society, a recrudescence brought on 
by the general disintegration of the normal spirit of man 
which the over-centralization of the war and the 
anarchy of the peace have caused. Central Europe, 
forced back to practically a primitive mediaeval 
economy by the terms of the peace, has reverted 
automatically to the primitive mediaeval mentality. 
Once again the Jew, assigned to that status by the 


mediaeval theory of life, is made the scapegoat of 
the ills of the people. Kolchak or Denikine, Kapp 
or Dmowski, Stephan Friedrich or Bratianu, Maxse 
or Drumont, Henry Ford or the Morning Post, their 
psychology is alike. Through them and their followers, 
the Jews become the ultimate burnt-offerings to the 
delusions of the peace which was made to save de- 
mocracy, to insure the rights of minorities, and to 
establish international comity. 




THE reaction of the Jews themselves to the situation, 
though not simple, was not confused. Although in 
some respects the bitter epigram of Zangwill's 

Hear, Israel, Jehovah, the Lord thy God, is one, 
But we, Jehovah His people, are dual, and so undone. 

has become truer than ever, in others, it has been con- 
siderably weakened by circumstances. Under the 
impact of the central European catastrophe the prin- 
ciple of "sauve qui peut v came naturally and auto- 
matically into operation. The Jews have their 
emigres, no less than the Russians, the Ruthenians, 
the Austrians, with the em igre mentality and aspirations. 
They have their Socialists and Bolshevists with the 
inquisitorial fanaticism of a new religion powerful 
at last, and they have their established behaviour- 
patterns of custom, habit, and tradition. The inner 
life of the Jewish peoples of central and eastern Europe 
was determined by the confrontation of these psycholog- 
ical forces, with the victory inevitably for the deeper- 
lying and more primitive trends of mentality. The 
objective of these trends is secular, but the emotions 
usually called religious had an overruling influence 
in rendering it authoritative. Circumstances, more- 



over, endowed it with a material purposiveness which 
in other periods of persecution it had never possessed. 
It is, of course, Zion, the traditional substance of 

Between the protagonists of the Zionist idea and 
programme and the abstract and doctrinaire humani- 
tarianism of the Jewish internationalists of the Bolshe- 
vik or other Socialist sects there was fought out con- 
comitantly with the tragedies of the Ukraine, Hungary, 
and Poland, a battle for the leadership of the Jewish 
community and the control of the Jewish institutions. 
In the Ukraine and Russia the Socialist sectaries ac- 
cused the Zionists of being tools of British imperialism, 
of providing army corps to combat the people's rights 
in Egypt and Syria and India. During the German 
occupation in the Ukraine they called them "infamous 
friends of England." When the Soviet government 
reconquered the Ukraine they accused them of re- 
action and counter-revolution. They denounced He- 
brew as the bulwark of Jewish clericalism and they 
did their best to obtain complete control of the com- 
munal institutions and the Jewish National Assembly. 
Disastrously defeated by the Zionists in the elections 
of 1918, they withdrew from the Assembly, and de- 
voted themselves, under the Bolshevist dominion — 
which, instructed by them that they " represented 
the Jewish masses, had given them place and power — 
to persecuting the Zionist organization and breaking 
up the Jewish communities. They even succeeded, 
through the intervention of the Ukrainian communist 
Diamanstein, who was visiting Moscow, in persuading 
the central government, which had always tried to 
deal justly with the racial minorities in its dominions, 


to undertake the complete repression of the Zionists. 
This was prevented by a protest meeting in Moscow. 
Attended incognito by Soviet commissaries, it in- 
fluenced them to take steps correcting the mistake. 

Of course, the feeling of the Jewish masses in Russia 
and the Ukraine against the Jewish communists 
could not fail to become intensely bitter. In the 
Zionist programme and the Zionist organization they 
had found the fusion of their past and present hopes 
of salvation. It gave them a foundation for self- 
respect and a programme for creative action. The 
Balfour Declaration, which had come to them as a 
promise of relief, had developed with the growing 
tragedy of the time into a gospel of religious hope. 
More than a million of what remained of the three 
million disinherited Jews of Russia and the Ukraine 
were, because of their sufferings, in the state of mind 
where madness and religious inspiration cannot be 
distinguished. In Russia great undertakings were 
planned for Palestine and large sums — in rubles — 
subscribed. Enormous migrations were projected. 
Odessa and Sebastopol were overrun with committees 
trying to arrange migration or restrain migration. 
Workmen's groups were organized in thousands. 
Young men and old sailed in fishing smacks or wandered 
on foot — to find themselves stranded in Constan- 
tinople and other wayside cities. Poland, Hungary, 
Rumania — by and large — were in this respect echoes 
of Russia and the Ukraine. All classes of the Jewish 
population exhibited the same dominant trend. Even 
in Germany — where the "Germans of the Mosaic 
confession" who had before the war controlled the 
Jewish communities found themselves facing a general 


democratic movement for nation-wide community 
organization analogous to that in the eastward lands — 
the unity of sentiment on Zionism stood out in con- 
trast to the division on domestic problems. 

Tins was still more true in the western lands. There 
were many conflicts within the Jewish communities, 
accentuated by the war — in America over the perma- 
nence of the American Jewish Congress; in England 
over the responsibility of the Sh'tadlanic heads of the 
Jewish population there. But excepting negligible 
cases of "imaginative nervousness" or doctrinal 
repressions, the unity of sentiment regarding the 
Jewish Homeland was extraordinary. The Board of 
Deputies in Great Britain had already in March, 1918, 
endorsed the Balfour Declaration and the planned 
terms of the Mandate. During the ensuing year it 
also established with the Committee of Jewish Delega- 
tions informally closer and closer relationships that 
only waited an annual meeting to be made formal. 
Alone the Anglo-Jewish Association and the Alliance 
Israelite Universelle still stood out against the union, 
their theological internationalism serving the same 
practical purpose as the economic internationalism 
of the Jewish communists of obstructing united Jewish 
action to save two thirds of the Jewish population 
of the world being done to death. 

The Committee of Jewish Delegations carried on as 
best it could. It pressed matters left pending by the 
adjournment of the Paris Conference. It studied and 
reported on conditions that developed in central 
Europe. It protested to the public opinion of the 
world and interpellated and memorialized govern- 
ments. Its constituencies in America and in western 


Europe took similar action with regard to their own 
governments. And the governments promised investi- 
gation and correction — which, no doubt, in the course 
of diplomatic time and according to diplomatic agree- 
ments may be effected. But all the while from central 
Europe the bitter cry of the Jews went up. And they 
suffered and endured only through the hope of the 
New Zion. 

Yet as the months crept on, they began to fear, as 
we have already noted, that the saving vision, which 
had been the essence of the morale of Jewry through 
all the long centuries of its outlawry^, was about to be 
destroyed at its base. Not only the leaders, the whole 
Jewish people became shaken by a bitter great dis- 
quiet. Rumours spread among them in all the lands 
where they dwelt, that the Balfour Declaration had 
been only a diplomatic gesture, and having served its 
purpose, would be abandoned, like other used-up war 

Specifically the reasons were as follows: 
War propaganda, reenforcing the nationalism of the 
upper classes of Egypt, of Syria, and other of the Asiatic 
tributaries of the Turk, fused with war oppression 
and administrative stupidities in Egypt and India, to 
bring into existence something like a political sentiment 
among the altogether unpolitical and economically 
primitive masses of those countries. This sentiment 
constituted a social explosive which almost anything 
in the way of an error of judgment or a failure in 
tact might touch off. Arabia and Irak, which had been 
under the Turk an insulating vacuum between the two 
centres, became, under the contagion of Syrian na- 
tionalism and British propaganda, a fairly sensitive 


conducting surface. In consequence the Arab world, 
with its very contrasting social classes and levels 
of culture, was on the point of attaining a unity of 
feeling — secular, this time — which it had not been 
possessed by since the days of the great Arab Khalifs. 
The ideational channels of this feeling and of the 
programme of action to which it was to supply the 
force ran in one direction to the imperialistic extremes 
of pan-Arabism, in other, to the nationalist harmonics 
of the Wilsonian programme and the Balfour Declara- 
tion. The latter had in a very short time after its 
promulgation become a sort of gospel of reconstruction 
among the masses of the Allies. Article XII of the 
Fourteen Points stated: 

The Turkish portions of the present Ottoman Empire 
should be assured a secure sovereignty, but the other na- 
tionalities which are now under Turkish rule should be 
assured an undoubted security of life and absolutely un- 
molested opportunity for autonomous development, and the 
Dardanelles should be permanently opened as a free passage 
to the ships and commerce of all nations under international 

Until discussions actually began in Paris this para- 
graph represented to the minds of all but the most ex- 
tremist of Syrian and Arab leaders the realistic limits 
of what they might hope to attain. They were ready 
to acquiesce in it. To the rather primitive peoples — 
the Armenians may, perhaps, be excepted — whose self- 
chosen representatives they were, even these conditions 
were of remote and somewhat speculative importance. 
But as it began to be more and more apparent that the 
official American and popular liberal European terms 


of settlement were being entirely disregarded by the 
Peace Conference, that the settlement had become the 
usual diplomat's game of grab, and that the presenta- 
tion of the Turkish treaty was destined to indefinite 
delay, Turks and Arabs began a play for their own 

For the Turks the play was desperate. They had 
been refused all consideration by the Council of Four 
in terms as unmistakable as they were stinging. Their 
state, even such as it had been, was completely ruined, 
and their pre-war pan-Turanianism was bankrupt. 
There remained a nationalist eastward propaganda 
among the more or less Turanian stocks from Anatolia 
to the Carpathians, and a religious general propaganda 
among the Moslem faithful. Pan-Turanianism and pan- 
Moslemism were preached at one and the same time. 
The nationalist leader, Mustapha Kjamil Pasha, produced 
a reconciling formula for these essentially irreconcilable 
doctrines. "I preach," he declared, "Islam as a race." 
At the same time he made use of Islam to foment and 
increase the unrest in Moslem India, Egypt, and Syria. 
By the Moslems of India, whose nationalist preoccupa- 
tions would be well served by such an occasion, the 
Turkish peace and the integrity of the Turkish Empire 
was converted into a religious question of the Khalif ate. 
In Egypt and Syria the conception of the unity of the 
Moslem world was made the basis of a bitter anti- 
European propaganda. 

This was possible because the Arabic world was itself 
insecure in status and confused in counsel. To the 
contagion which it was undergoing at the hands of the 
Turks were added the effects of the vacillating policy 
of the English and the logical imperialism of the French. 


Between these two countries a duel went on of which 
the purpose was, so far as the French were concerned, 
to squeeze the maximum of advantage out of the 
Sykes-Picot Treaty ; so far as the English were concerned 
to assuage the excitement in Egypt and in India, to 
keep their words to the Arabs and the Jews, and to 
make sure of the possession of the Mesopotamian 
oil fields and the gates to India. Many British officials, 
particularly the political and ethnographic experts, 
felt that this could be accomplished only with great 
difficulty, and that the Jews were the essential part 
of any plan not merely of conciliation but of develop- 
ment of the Far East. So, as we have seen, Sir Mark 
Sykes believed, dwelling on the concept of a confedera- 
tion of Jews, Arabs, and Armenians in a great league 
of Syria and Asia Minor. In the opinion of Col. T. E. 
Lawrence, who had been the chief British agent in 
Arabia and Feisal's right hand in all the activities 
of the Hedjaz from the first contact to the conference 
in Paris, Zionism w r as "the only practical means of 
setting the new Semitic near east in order in our own 
days." He urged that the Jews become Palestinians 
as quickly as possible and bring into play in the life 
of Asia Minor that aspect of their temperament 
which, because of their long European discipline, is 
complementary to that of the Arab. Major Ormsby- 
Gore, the first liaison officer between the Zionist 
Administrative Commission and the military govern- 
ment in Palestine, now a member of Parliament, urged 
the necessity of Jewish initiative in the revival of 
Arabic culture as a foremost device in relieving the 
long strain due to political disturbances in the Arabian 
world. General Smuts held a similar opinion. 


The military, on the other hand, felt that all the 
British purposes could not be accomplished at the same 
time and that for the good of the empire one or another 
of them would have to be dropped. They were for 
dropping the pledge to the Jews. Under that pledge, 
the strategic problem in Asia Minor and in Egypt 
became complicated. Palestine became a sort of 
buffer state between the nationalism of Egypt and 
the nationalism of Arabia that, from the military 
point of view, could not be successfully held. A 
much easier and simpler thing to hold would be a united 
Asia Minor, a Pan-Arabia, with no ethnic or religious 
problems superadded to those already existing. Mili- 
tary experience had already proved this. While 
all Asia Minor was under Allenby, there had been no 
exceptional police difficulties or any other type of 
trouble. The administration of Syria and Trans- 
jordania by the French and Arab officials had gone on 
smoothly and easily enough. But then Paris demanded 
and London ordered, in fulfilment of the Sykes-Picot 
Treaty, the withdrawal of the British troops to the 
boundaries set by the treaty. The withdrawal was 
executed — under the protest of both Allenby and Bols, 
and border troubles immediately began. 

Thinking thus in strategic and imperialistic terms, 
and animated perhaps by the vision of a continuous 
British protectorate, from the Mediterranean to 
India, the military administration, backed by the 
missionary interest, took advantage of the rules 
imposed by the Hague conventions regarding the 
government of occupied enemy territory to sabotage 
the Balfour Declaration and to establish their own 
programme as a fait accompli. Anti-Semitism among 


high officials had not a little to do with the matter; 
ignorance, stupidity, and incompetence among their 
subordinates not a little. That they were not officially 
made aware of the Balfour Declaration helped. That, 
as Colonel Lawrence pointed out to Doctor Weizmann, 
Episcopal dioceses with missionary interests organized 
anti- Jewish propaganda, helped. And the almost 
parallel stupidity, ignorance, and incompetence of the 
Palestinian Jews, and their unparalleled disunion, their 
sectarian, nationalate, linguistic, and other quarrels, 
helped. The Occupied Enemy Territory Administra- 
tion was crowded with ex-Turkish officials and Syrian 
Christians who were used and who made spontaneous 
use of their positions in political intrigue and opposition 
to Zionism. Military officers known to be anti- Jewish 
were appointed to what would become permanent 
posts. The use of Hebrew on official documents was 
sabotaged. Palestine became the gathering place for 
Egyptian and Syrian agitators and the propaganda 
field of a subsidized press. The Arab landlord and 
the Arab money-lender were automatically adopting 
the tactics of the Polish and Hungarian and Rumanian 
upper classes in the attempt to retain their privileged 
stranglehold upon the peasantry. Meanwhile, officers 
of administration were making promises of amendment 
and correction which were never carried out, while in 
Europe, Curzon, as Secretary of State for Foreign 
Affairs, was solemnly reaffirming the Balfour Declara- 

The position of the Zionist Administrative Commis- 
sion under these circumstances may be imagined. 
Its personnel was constantly changing, and in its 
permanent membership there was no one of character, 


competency, and distinction great enough to command 
the respect of the military administration. In the 
course of little more than a year it gathered into 
its offices a body of Palestinian experts-by-book and 
others who were no better than the officials of the ad- 
ministration. It tried hard to introduce — particularly 
at the beginning, when Americans were unofficially 
in the Commission — system and efficiency into the 
affairs of the Palestinian communities, but it was 
neither skilled nor wise enough to find a device that 
might overcome the babel of minute sectarian, geo- 
graphical, linguistic, economic, social, and political 
groupings from which the Jewish population of Palestine 
suffers, and into which it had again disintegrated with 
the relaxation of the unity of the war. The Commis- 
sion was required to meet problems of relief, education, 
health, and political organization, but its departments 
were organized according to a pedantic scheme rather 
than according to the realities it was called upon to 
face. Such realities were the Arabs with whom it 
should have sought a rapprochement, the rising cost 
of living and the increasing emigration of Jews from 
Palestine. But for this it possessed neither the 
inward equipment nor the outward prestige. It 
needed capacity, men, and money, and the last was piti- 
fully inadequate even for such powers and abilities 
as it possessed. Palestinian Jewry at the same time 
were deeply engrossed in the very pleasing business of 
getting all they could out of the situation, or in speculat- 
ing profoundly and arguing loudly regarding political 
forms and economic programmes, while the concrete 
task of work and self-maintenance from day to day 
were left to the agencies of relief or went by default. 


Even the American Zionist Medical Unit — in its 
relation to its setting a paragon of disciplined efficiency 
— was infused with the quarrelsome contagion. It 
also found itself undergoing, in addition to the op- 
position of the old-fashioned Palestinian physicians 
and the jurisdictional disputes with the Commission, 
internal dissensions. Its work, indeed, was the most 
hopeful, and a function of its entire independence from 
the Commission. It created what is in practice a 
national health service, with hospitals both fixed 
and mobile, and medical help for all the inhabitants 
of the land, without distinction of race or creed. An- 
other hopeful indication was the creation of the Pro- 
Jerusalem Society, made up of Jews and Arabs, with 
the purpose of cleaning up, preserving, and beautifying 
old Jerusalem and building a decent new Jerusalem. 
Still another was the agitation over the franchise for 
women precipitated by the orthodox rabbis, whose 
opinion of women and their rights corresponded with 
the orthodox opinion of all sects at all times. This 
quarrel — which through the courageous action of the 
Commission delayed the election of "the constituent 
assembly' of Palestinian Jewry until it was settled — 
was finally settled in favour of the women. 1 Something 
got done also to improve the educational system and 
the condition of the teachers. The problem of main- 
tenance was faced, if not met. Consumers' cooperatives 
were first encouraged and then mishandled. Kwuzoth 
or cooperative workmen's colonies were outfitted. 
Irrigation and water-power surveys were planned, and 

ir The "Const itutent Assembly" was chosen on the basis of a secret, 
direct ballot and proportional representation. The workmen's organizations 
and the Sephardic communities made the best runs, the others being too 
broken by schisms and dissensions or being boycotted by the electors. 


within the straitened financial limits undertaken — 
the engineer in charge being Pincus Ruthenberg, one 
of the few really forceful personalities who had reached 

But confusion and inefficiency within and political 
obstruction and anxiety without were on the whole too 
great handicaps. Mr. Justice Brandeis's visit to 
Palestine in the summer of 1919 relieved the situation 
a little. Through his influence one of the chief sabotteurs 
of the Balfour Declaration was removed, and a politi- 
cally much wiser and administratively more competent 
man was sent in his place. One man, however, work- 
ing in transit could do little to break the bureaucratic 
web of intrigue that had somehow gotten stretched 
from the meanest Arab money-lender in Nablus to the 
highest English administrative officer in Cairo. The 
crisis in the duel of empire developed with the approach 
of the time for the promulgation of the Turkish treaty 
of peace. Signs were not lacking that a coup was being 
prepared not without analogies to the South African 
coup which was aborted by the Jameson raid. The 
Arab Club at Damascus — the heir of the nationalist 
group of the Great War — was encouraged to make 
bolder and bolder demands. It was anti-French — 
as are the vast majority of Syrians — and its titular 
head was Peisal. Its resources came from the Arab 
administration and this functioned on subsidies from 
the British and French governments. In cases of 
error, the more cautious, substantial, and propertied 
Nationalist Party served to neutralize the attitude 
of the firebrands, but in an emergency it would not 
fail to act with the Arab Club. The demands of this 
club took the form of the resurrection on an imperial 


scale of the proposals made in the early days of the 
war by the Arab National Committee which had been 
betrayed to the Turks and by them crushed. There 
was to be an imperial Arab state, under British pro- 
tection, coextensive with Asia Minor. This state 
should be a fait accompli that the unsuspecting politi- 
cians in Downing Street and the negotiators in San 
Remo should, willy-nilly, have to face and acknowledge. 
So, in March, 1920, a Syrian Congress coming together 
any which way proclaimed Feisal king of Syria and 
Palestine and his brother Abdullah king of Mesopo- 
tamia. At the same time the Egyptian legislative 
assembly met and proclaimed the independence of 
Egypt and the Sudan. The understandings Feisal 
declared he had with Doctor Weizmann, his written 
statements and public proclamations of endorsement 
of and cooperation with Zionism, the pledge made by 
the British Government through the Balfour Declara- 
tion, these were to be redeemed by giving Feisal a man- 
date for Palestine and guaranteeing Jewish rights 
therein by means of a minority treaty of the type the 
Jews had themselves promulgated for themselves 
and the other minorities of central and eastern Europe. 
How this brilliant and sardonic conception would 
have fared among the politicians had the European 
entanglements of the Entente and the political com- 
plications in India not been in the way, may be specu- 
lated upon. The Moslems of India were demanding 
an integral Turkey for the sake — so they said — of 
the Khalifate. They repudiated the Emir at Mecca 
and all his works. The Tripolitan Arabs protested 
Feisal, and the Lebanon Committee — these represented 
the French connection — demanded that he evacuate 


Syria. The French — who seem in addition to have 
mobilized the Catholic interest (which acquired a 
sudden anxiety about the Holy Places and reversed 
itself on Zionism) and to have encouraged the Arab 
nationalists outside of their piece of Syria — demanded 
the letter and the spirit of the Sykes-Picot Treaty. 
In Arabia and in Palestine the crowning of Feisal 
was accompanied by propaganda both spoken and 
printed. The number of foreign agitators in Palestine 
multiplied. The city populations, especially that of 
Jerusalem, were particularly inflamed. Tension in- 
creased. The British authorities were warned by 
members of the Zionist Commission and by others 
that there was danger of bloodshed. They ordered 
the population to give up its arms but they enforced 
the order against the Jews and not against the Arabs. 
They were asked to bring in soldiers to do the policing, 
and they refused that. One anti-Zionist demonstra- 
tion succeeded another. Appeals to the Arabs by 
the Va'ad Hazmani — a sort of provisional council of 
the Jewish community — for peace and cooperation 
failed of attention even. Under the circumstances 
Vladimir Jabotinsky and Pincus Ruthenberg pro- 
ceeded, in violation of the governor's prohibition, to 
organize a defense brigade. The organization was not 
complete or effective enough to prevent the culminating 
riot and bloodshed during the Passover of 1920. It 
had been preceded by a demand — on the threat of a 
massacre of the Jews — that the Administration suppress 
the Zionist Commission, expel the leaders, and dis- 
solve the Jewish battalion. The rumour spread that 
the local administration had conceded this demand, 
but that General Allenby had vetoed it. A couple 


of days later came the riot, with all the casualties on 
the side of the unarmed Jews. It lasted three days 
and was accompanied with cheers for Feisal and the 
exhibition of his portrait. On the third day the ad- 
ministration brought in the soldiers and restored 
order easily enough. Later, Jabotinsky and members 
of the Defense Company were arrested for breaking 
the rules against carrying arms, and other similar 
high crimes and misdemeanours, and Jabotinsky was 
sentenced to fifteen years' imprisonment, the same 
sentence as was passed upon two Arabs convicted of 
rape. The news came on Saturday while most of the 
Jews were at prayer in the synagogue. Some indication 
of the total effect of the situation upon their morale may 
be found in the fact that, led by the rabbis, the masses 
signed then and there a petition to the governor claiming 
equal guilt with Jabotinsky for the defense organization 
and demanding equal punishment. Jews, it will be re- 
membered, are prohibited by their religion from writing 
on the Sabbath. 

Among the country people the outrages brought 
similar protests. To Sir Herbert Samuel, who had 
been sent ostensibly as economic and financial adviser to 
the military administration, twelve Sheikhs of Druses 
and Maronites protested the pogrom. Later, eighty- 
two villages, describing themselves as 70 per cent, of the 
Palestinian population and 90 per cent, of the peasant 
landholders, denounced the anti-Zionist demonstration 
and declared their hope for a great Jewish settlement 
under British mandate which would liberate them from 
the oppression of the Effendi and the money-lender. 

In England and in the United States the mixture of 
news and rumours all of which seemed to point to an 


attempt at nullifying the Balfour Declaration made a 
very painful impression. Its effect upon the Jews 
has already been indicated, but its effect upon the 
non-Jewish citizens of England particularly, is most 
significant. One paper after another, from the Times 
to the smallest provincial journal, demanded that 
the word given the Jewish people should not be broken. 
Questions were asked Parliament, again and again, on 
all the elements in the situation. There was formed a 
parliamentary committee to watch over Palestine 
affairs, with Lord Robert Cecil as chairman and Major 
Ormsby-Gore as secretary. Petitions were circulated 
and signed by members of the House of Lords, the 
Commons, the journalists, writers, labour leaders, 
churchmen, societies, demanding the validation of the 
Balfour Declaration and a British mandate for Pales- 
tine. These petitions were sent to the Peace Con- 
ference which at last was meeting at San Remo. 

The workingmen of Great Britain sent then the 
following resolution addressed to Mr. Lloyd George: 

At meetings held in London this week the Parliamentary 
Labour Party, the Executive Committee of the Labour 
Party, and the Parliamentary Committee of the Trades 
Union Congress have adopted resolutions reminding the 
British Government of the Declaration made on November 
2nd, 1917, that the Government would endeavour to facili- 
tate the establishment of a Jewish National Home in Pales- 
tine, a declaration that was in harmony with the declared 
war aims of the British Labour Movement, and which was 
cordially welcomed by all sections of the British people, 
and was reaffirmed by Earl Curzon on November 2nd, 1919. 
The National Labour organizations indicated now urge upon 
his Majesty's Government the necessity of redeeming this 
pledge by the acceptance of a mandate under the League 


of Nations for the administration of Palestine with a view 
to its being reconstituted the National Home of the Jewish 
people. The National Committees desire to associate them- 
selves with the many similar representations being made to 
the Government urging the settlement of this question 
with the utmost despatch, both in the interests of Palestine 
itself as well as in the interests of the Jewish people. 

J. R. Clynes (Acting Chairman 

Parliamentary Labour Party). 
H. S. Lindsay (Secretary). 
W. H. Hutchinson (Chairman 

Labour Party Executive). 
Arthur Henderson (Secretary 

Labour Party Executive). 
J. H. Thomas (Chairman Trades 

Union Congress). 
C. W. Bowerman (Secretary 
Trades Union Congress). 

The Jews of the world choked the wires with mes- 
sages. Even the League of British Jews and the Con- 
joint Foreign Committee took steps to help insure the 
redeeming of the pledge to the Jewish people. From 
the President and from other members of his adminis- 
tration in America came explicit cables regarding the 
position of America on the terms of the Turkish treaty. 
Against the great wave of public sentiment the im- 
perialists could not hope to prevail. Feisal was told, 
when, after repeated invitations he had stated his 
case, that the project — not his own — for an integral 
independent Syria and Palestine was inadmissible. 
The French took their mandate over Syria, and England 
accepted that over Palestine and took that over Meso- 
potamia. Constantinople was left to the Turk. On 
April 25, 1920, the Supreme Council of the Allied 
Peace Conference decided to incorporate the Balfour 


Declaration into the Turkish treaty. A little more 
than a month later, Sir Herbert Samuel, distinguished 
British public servant, devout Jew, Zionist, official 
philosophic exponent of British liberalism 1 was ap- 
pointed High Commissioner for Palestine. 

But the action was not a clean action for the treaty 
was written in terms of the tripartite agreement between 
England, France, and Italy. That meant that there 
was extended into the future at least the nefarious con- 
sequences of the secret Sykes-Picot Treaty. And that 
meant essential injustice to both the Jewish homeland 
and to Feisal. Morally it involved in many respects 
a violation of the pledges made to both. Nevertheless, 
the principal pledges were kept. 

1 Cf. Herbert Samuel: "Liberalism: Its Principles and Proposals." London, 



THE Treaty of San Remo begins to redeem what 
the Balfour Declaration pledged. It restores the 
Jewish people to an equal status with the other peoples 
of the world. It designs to give them back by public 
covenant the corporate citizenship under the law 
of nations which imperial edict took from them in Rome 
in the 339th year of the Christian era. It is a momen- 
tous covenant, momentous for the Jews, momentous 
for the world. It marks, in more ways than one, the 
ending of an epoch in the history of mankind in Chris- 
tian Europe. This is an epoch whose character was 
determined by the closing of the schools and the sur- 
render of education to the control of the fathers of the 
church. What it meant for the happiness and freedom 
of mankind, how it shut in the mind and degraded 
the body and divided the spirit has already been 
suggested; 1 it may be read in any history of Europe 
dealing with the evolution of free institutions and the 
liberation of the masses of men from their oppressors. 2 
The critical step in this liberation was the reviving 
of the freedom of thought. From this everything 

l Cf. Supra pp. 21-25. 

2 Cf. Lecky: "The Rise and Influence of Rationalism in Europe"; 
White: "History of the Warfare of Science with Theology"; Gibbon: "The 
Decline and Fall of Rome"; Taylor: "The Mediaeval Mind"; Schapiro: 
"European and Contemporary History"; Bury: "The History of the Free- 
dom of Thought." 



else followed — the shattering of the walls of the world 
through the slow and painful establishment of the 
heliocentric astronomical system in the commonsense 
of mankind; the development of commerce; the physical 
enlargement of the stage of human enterprise and im- 
aginative adventure by the voyages of Columbus; the 
overthrow of the tyranny over conscience by the 
Reformation; the very, very slow recession of obedience 
to authority and the credulity of religion before the 
independence and experimentalism of science; the 
secularization of industry and politics until religious 
imperialism gives way to religious nationalism, and 
religious nationalism slowly disintegrates under the 
contacts with science, and with the art and industry 
which are the children of science, so that, in theory 
at least, Church and State become completely separated, 
and the right of citizenship is finally disentangled al- 
together from the accident of membership in a particu- 
lar religious confession. 

Indeed, under the impact of thought set free, Chris- 
tianism itself changes its character. It becomes less 
and less a rigid system of unchanging dogmas sustained 
by force as the opinion of mankind in Europe. It 
becomes more and more a sentiment of humane piety, 
a loyalty to the sources and the fellowships of our 
being, seeking salvation in works rather than in faith, 
and aiming at justice rather than charity. The in- 
ternational image of this sentiment is the Christ of 
"higher criticism," cleared by the application of 
scientific and historical method from the mummified 
encasements of the churches and their theologies, 
and stepping out of the historian's reconstruction 
of the gospels under a new glory, in what is in very 


truth a second advent — an old symbol renovated by 
the new time, crying abroad "the fatherhood of God 
and the brotherhood of man." The lands where this 
Christ has appeared and been acknowledged are 
lands where the Church itself has become secularized 
and "true" religion has become identified with social 
service. 1 They are lands also in which both political 
democracy and industrial economy have made exten- 
sive gains, in which the workingmen are self-conscious, 
organized, and socially active; in which literacy is high 
and clericalism negligible. They are modern lands, 
in the best sense of that term, and they are lands in 
which the Jew is at least formally and legally secure 
and free. For the freedom and security of the Jew, it 
cannot be too often reiterated, has always been in 
Christian Europe, the barometer of the civilization, 
the culture, the prosperity, the democracy of the 
countries of his sojourn. It has always been a function 
of the freedom of thought. It has always been as- 
sociated with the causes of all the oppressed or enslaved 
portions of the populations of Europe. Lecky writes: 

The persecution of the Jewish race dates from the very 
earliest period in which Christianity obtained the direction 
of the civil power; and although it varied greatly in its 
character and its intensity, it can scarcely be said to have 
definitely ceased till the French revolution. Alexander II, 
and three or four other Popes, made noble efforts to arrest 
it; and more than once interfered with great courage, as well 
as great humanity, to censure the massacres; but the priests 
were usually unwearied in inciting the passions of the people, 
and hatred of the Jew was for many centuries a faithful 

1 Cf. F. G. Peabody: "Jesus Christ and the Social Question." Harry F. 
Ward: "The Social Creed of the Churches"; "Social Evangelism"; "The 
New Social Order"; and many others. 


index of the piety of the Christians. Massacred by the 
thousands during the enthusiasm of the Crusades and the 
War of the Shepherds, the Jews found every ecclesiastical 
revival, and the accession of every sovereign of more than 
usual devotion, occasions for fresh legislative restrictions. 
Theodosious, St. Lewis, and Isabella the Catholic — who were 
probably the three most devout sovereigns before the Ref- 
ormation — the Council of the Lateran, which led the religi- 
ous revival of the thirteenth century, Paul IV who led that 
of the sixteenth century, and above all the religious orders 
were among their most ardent persecutors. Everything was 
done to separate them from their fellowmen, to mark them 
out as objects of undying hatred, and to stifle all com- 
passion for their sufferings. They were compelled to wear 
a peculiar dress and to live in a separate quarter. A 
Christian might not enter into any partnership with them; 
he might not eat with them; he might not use the same bath; 
he might not employ them as physicians, he might not even 
purchase their drugs. Intermarriage with them was deemed 
a horrible pollution, and in the time of St. Lewis any Chris- 
tian who had chosen a Jewess for his mistress was burnt alive. 
Even in their executions they were separated from other 
criminals, and till the fourteenth century, they w T ere hung 
between two dogs, and with the head downward. According 
to St. Thomas Aquinas, all they possessed, being derived 
from the practice of usury, might be justly confiscated, 
and if they were ever permitted to pursue that practice 
unmolested, it was only because they were already so hope- 
lessly damned that no crime could aggravate their condition. 
Certainly the heroism of the defenders of every other 
creed fades into insignificance before this martyr people, 
who for thirteen centuries confronted all the evils that 
the fiercest fanaticism could devise, enduring obloquy and 
spoliation and the violation of the dearest ties, and the 
infliction of the most hideous sufferings, rather than abandon 
their faith. For these were no ascetic monks, dead to all 
the hopes and passions of life, but were men who appreciated 
intensely the worldly advantages they relinquished, and 
whose affections had become all the more lively on account 


of the narrow circle in which they were confined. Enthusi- 
asm and the strange phenomena of ecstasy, which have 
exercised so large an influence in the history of persecution, 
which have nerved so many martyrs with superhuman 
courage, and have deadened or destroyed the anguish of so 
many fearful tortures, were here almost unknown. Persecu- 
tion came to the Jewish nation in its most horrible forms, 
yet surrounded by every circumstance of petty annoyance 
that could destroy its grandeur, and it continued for cen- 
turies their abiding portion. 1 

It continued, and as we have seen, it still continues. 
But now, because the principle of the rights of national 
minorities has been incorporated into the law of nations, 
because of the Balfour Declaration and the Treaty 
of San Remo, it should not, if science maintains its 
momentum of growth and industry its pace of ex- 
pansion, fail to end. These principles and treaties 
are conclusions, not beginnings. They are signs and 
portents of a profound alteration in the mind and 
commonsense of the western world. Their effective 
realization is still remote, difficult, full of travail, but 
the significant thing is that they could be formulated 
and uttered at all. Their very being as law enables 
and initiates their culmination as fact. They renatural- 
ize the Jew as Jew in the world from which he has been 
kept outlaw for sixteen hundred years. They abolish 
the ambiguity of the Jewish position. They destroy 
at a stroke the compulsion upon the individual Jew 
to commit moral suicide in order to attain civil freedom 
or social equality. The Treaty of San Remo liberates 
both the Jew who wishes to assimilate his entity to 
such non-Jewish nationalities as he selects and as will 

1 "The Rise and Influence of Rationalism in Europe," II. ch. 6. 


receive him, and the Jew who wishes to identify him- 
self wholly and completely with his own people. It 
liberates the former because it supplies him with a 
fixed and unmistakable centre of reference with regard 
to which he may at last say, beyond cavil or question, 
' I am part and parcel of that, " or "I am not part and 
parcel of that"; it gives him an equal status with 
the Frenchman or Englishman or Belgian or Servian 
or Italian in this respect. If these, or the members 
of any other European nationality, constitute no prob- 
lem like the Jewish problem, it is because they 
have never been outlawed by a theological system in 
which they were an integral item from the fellowship 
of mankind, and particularly because these peoples 
actually inhabit as majorities politically definite areas 
universally acknowledged to be their homelands. 
The establishment by public law of the ancient home 
of the Jewish people as their actual centre of life and 
labour cannot fail to work the same effect upon the 
Jewish position. Enabling the assimilator freely at 
last to assimilate, it at the same time enables the Jew 
who wishes to realize all the potentialities of his life 
as a Jew, to find himself in an integrated, organic, 
free Jewish society, where he may fulfil himself Jewishly 
without let or hindrance, where he may be completely 
a Jew without being penalized for his preference, 
where being a Jew shall no longer be identical with 
possessing the perverse and psychopathic traits of a 
persecuted people. 

That these ends can be attained only in Palestine, 
the whole character of the great tradition of Europe 
and of the Jewish national aspiration as a part of that 
tradition goes to show. However, let Mr. Balfour 


himself speak on this matter; in the course of his intro- 
duction 1 to Sokolow's "History of Zionism" he writes: 

. . . Why it may be asked, is local sentiment to be 
more considered in the case of the Jew than (say) in that of 
the Christian or the Buddhist? All historic religions rouse 
feelings which cluster round the places made memorable by 
the words and deeds, the lives and deaths of those who 
brought them into being. 

Doubtless these feelings should always be treated with 
respect; but no one suggests that the regions where these 
venerable sites are to be found should, of set purpose and 
with much anxious contrivance, be colonized by the spiritual 
descendents of those who originally made them famous. 
If the centuries have brought no change of ownership or 
occupancy we are well content. But if it be otherwise, we 
make no effort to reverse the course of history. None sug- 
gest that we should plant Buddhist colonies in India, the 
ancient home of Buddhism, or renew in favour of Christen- 
dom the crusading adventures of our mediaeval ancestors. 
Yet, if this be wisdom when we are dealing with Buddhism 
and Christianity, why, it may be asked, is it not also wisdom 
when we are dealing with Judaism and the Jews? 

The answer is, that the cases are not parallel. The posi- 
tion of the Jews is unique. For them race, religion, and 
country are inter-related as in the case of no other race, no 
other religion, and no other country on earth. In no other 
case are the believers in one of the greatest religions of the 
world to be found (speaking broadly) only among the mem- 
bers of a single small people; in the case of no other religion 
is its past development so intimately bound up with the long 
political history of a petty territory wedged in between 
states more powerful far than it could ever be; in the case 
of no other religion are its aspirations and hopes expressed in 
language and imagery so utterly dependent for their meaning 
on the conviction that only from this one land, only through 
this one history, only by this one people, is full religious 

'Reprinted in pamphlet form by the Zionist Organization of America. 


knowledge to spread through all the world. By a strange 
and most unhappy fate it is this people of all others which, 
retaining to the full its racial self-consciousness, has been 
severed from its home, has wandered into all lands, and has 
nowhere been able to create for itself an organized social 
commonwealth. Only Zionism — so at least Zionists believe 
— can provide some mitigation of this great tragedy of the 
Jewish people. 

Doubtless there are difficulties, doubtless there are objec- 
tions — great difficulties, very real objections. And it is, 
I suspect, among the Jews themselves that these are most 
acutely felt. Yet no one can reasonably doubt that if, as I 
believe, Zionism can be developed into a working scheme, 
the benefit it would bring to the Jewish people, especially 
perhaps to that section of it which most deserves our pity, 
would be great and lasting. It is not merely that large 
numbers of them would thus find a refuge from religious 
and social persecution; but that they would bear corporate 
responsibilities and enjoy corporate opportunities of a 
kind which, from the nature of the case, they can never 
possess as citizens of any non-Jewish state. It is charged 
against them by their critics that they now employ their 
great gifts to exploit for personal ends a civilization which 
they have not created in communities they do little to main- 
tain. The accusation thus formulated is manifestly false. 
But it is no doubt true that in large parts of Europe their 
loyalty to the state in which they dwell is (to put it mildly) 
feeble compared with their loyalty to their religion and their 
race. How, indeed, could it be otherwise? In none of the 
regions of w T hich I speak have they been given the advantage 
of equal citizenship; in some they have been given no right 
of citizenship at all. Great suffering is the inevitable result; 
but not suffering alone. Other evils follow which ag- 
gravate the original mischief. Constant oppression, with 
occasional outbursts of violent persecution, are apt either 
to crush their victims, or to develop in them self -protecting 
qualities which do not always assume an attractive shape. 
The Jews have never been crushed. Neither cruelty nor 
contempt, neither unequal laws nor illegal oppression, have 


ever broken their spirit, or shattered their unconquerable 
hopes. But it may well be true that, where they have been 
compelled to live among their neighbours as if these were 
their enemies, they have often obtained and sometimes de- 
served the reputation of being undesirable citizens. Nor is 
this surprising. If you oblige many men to be money- 
lenders, some will assuredly be usurers. If you treat an 
important section of the community as outcasts they will 
hardly shine as patriots. Thus does intolerance blindly 
labour to create the justification for its own excesses. 

It seems evident that, for these and other reasons, Zionism 
will mitigate the lot and elevate the status of no negligible 
fraction of the Jewish race. Those who go to Palestine will 
not be like those who migrate to London or New York. 
They will not be animated merely by the desire to lead in 
happier surroundings the kind of life they formerly led in 
eastern Europe. They will go in order to join a civil com- 
munity which completely harmonizes with their historical 
and religious sentiments; a community bound to the land 
it inhabits by something deeper even than custom: a com- 
munity whose members will suffer from no unequal laws 
under which they are forced to live. To them the material 
gain should be great; but surely the spiritual gain will be 
greater still. 

But these, it will be said, are not the only Jews whose 
welfare we have to consider. Granting, if only for argu- 
ment's sake, that Zionism will on them confer a benefit, 
will it not inflict an injury upon others who, though Jews 
by descent, and often by religion, desire wholly to identify 
themselves with the life of the country wherein they have 
made their home? Among these are to be found some of 
the most gifted members of the race. Their ranks contain 
(at least, so I think) more than their proportionate share of 
the world's supply of men distinguished in science and phi- 
losophy, literature and art and medicine, politics and law. 
(Of finance and business I need say nothing.) 

Now there is no doubt that many of this class look with 
a certain measure of suspicion and even dislike upon the 
Zionist movement. They fear that it will adversely affect 


their position in the country of their adoption. The great 
majority of them have no desire to settle in Palestine. Even 
supposing a Zionist community were established, they would 
not join it. But they seem to think (if I understand them 
rightly) that so soon as such a community came into being 
men of Jewish blood, still more men of Jewish religion, would 
be regarded by unkindly critics as out of place elsewhere. 
The ancient home having been restored to them they would 
be expected to reside there. 

I cannot share these fears. I do not deny that, in some 
countries where legal equality is not firmly established, Jews 
may still be regarded with a certain measure of prejudice. 
But this prejudice, where it exists, is not due to Zionism, 
nor will Zionism embitter it. The tendency should surely 
be the other way. Everything which assimilates the na- 
tional and international status of the Jews to that of other 
races ought to mitigate what remains of ancient antipathies; 
and evidently this assimilation would be promoted by giving 
them that which all other nations possess : a local habitation 
and a national home. 

Mr. Balfour, although a statesman, is an under- 
standing man. His eye, in this instance, at least, is 
upon those essential trends in society which determine 
the success or failure of the expedients of politicians 
and the devices of diplomacy. He recognized the 
extraordinary role of Palestine in the Jewish psyche; 
he observes the effects on that psyche of outlawry 
and persecution, and he is explicit in his recognition 
that the solution of the difficulty inherent in the Jewish 
position must lie in that equalization of status for 
both the group and the individual which is the essence 
of democracy. Equality of status does not mean, 
it must be remembered, identity of character or func- 
tion. It means, if anything, freedom for the develop- 
ment and operation of differences of character and 


function in which progress consists. The assimilation 
of "the national and international status of the Jews 
to that of other races" cannot fail not only "to mitigate 
what remains of ancient antipathies," it cannot fail 
to reenforce also and to invigorate that new tendency 
of the European mind whereby a European statesman 
of conservative principles can be so oblivious of an 
ancient tradition as to utter the sentiment for equaliza- 
tion as a principle and lay it down as a programme. 


"vita ntjova?" 

BY THE Treaty of San Remo the Jews are faced 
with a problem unprecedented in the history of their 
Diaspora. The treaty is a legal formula, a promissory 
note, whose ultimate validation depends far more upon 
those to whom it is given than those by whom it is 
given. Speed and range are essential to the success 
of the validation, and both hang upon the adequacy 
of the reorientation of the Jewish position which the 
implications of the treaty require. There is no help 
toward this reorientation in a study of the past; nor 
has there been any preparation for it in the present. 
The situation demanding it has ripened so swiftly 
and under conditions of so much doubt and anxiety 
that if the confusion of counsel prevailing among the 
Jews is any indication, its coming has taken them by 
surprise. Within six of the most trying years in the 
history of the western world, six of the most bitterly 
tragic years in the history of the Jews, a tradition 
of consolatory aspiration has been precipitated into a 
condition of compelling fact. By public law and in- 
ternational guarantees of hope of Zion, which was an 
age-old sentiment and a compensatory fantasy, has 
been turned into the hope of Zion which is the hard, 
barren, sordid geographical and ethnographic reality 
of Palestine, with its needs of economic rehabilitation 




and cultural development, its political complications 
and religious cross-currents, its problems of public 
health and social justice. Although in recent years 
much has been written, written voluminously and with a 
supremely knowing air, particularly by the experts-by- 
book in whom Jewish Palestine abounds, on the prob- 
lems of the construction of the Jewish homeland, what 
has been written remains in the realm of the pleasant — 
and irrelevant — speculation that has been character- 
istic of the productions in this field from the beginning 
of the Hovevei Zion activity in Palestine. 1 Nor do 
the only less official activities of the bureaus of the 
World Zionist Organization and of its advisory bodies 
appear to have been more pertinent. 2 The fact is 
that the validation of the Balfour Declaration by 
public law finds the Jews — both the masses of the people 
and the organized Zionists — unprepared; the continen- 
tal communities stripped and broken and despairful; 
the Americans exhausted by the political and financial 
efforts compelled by the war; the British too confused 
by the political entanglements and too retarded by 
the weight of tradition, which counts much more 
heavily among the Jews of England than of America. 
Here at last is the salutation which has been the sus- 
taining hope of the heart of Jewry through the bitter 
ages, challenging them to new life. Yet the manner 
in which they respond to it leaves room to doubt 

1 Oettinger: "Colonization in Palestine"; Ruppin: "Der Aufbau des 
Landes Israel"; Oppenheimer: "Merchavia"; Poale Zion Commission: "Re- 
port on the Work in Palestine." 

^nly the surveys and the proposals of the Occupied Enemy Territory 
Administration, to which the Zionists were not permitted access, had any 
regard for the realities of the Palestinian economy — such regard as is possi- 
ble to the capitalistically minded. Such Zionist proposals as have been 
printed somehow keep reminding one of the schemes of Col. Sellars. 


whether the attainment of this new life shall not 
become a process painful, lingering, and — disillusion- 

The reason is that the decision of San Remo effects 
what is practically a magical change, what is tanta- 
mount to a metaphysical transvaluation in the char- 
acter and significance of Palestine for the Jewish 
people. And how quickly and completely they adjust 
themselves to this transvaluation must needs be a 
large item in the settlement of their fate. Some 
inference regarding the psychology of this adjustment 
may be drawn from the astounding parade which 
took place, on May 25, 1920, on Fifth Avenue, in 
New York City. The marchers in this parade came 
from all the strata of Jewish society in America — 
millionaire merchants, rabbis, great bourgeois and 
little bourgeois, workingmen, veterans of the Great 
War, legionaries returned from Palestine, children, 
women. They intoned psalms and they sang songs. 
And there was that in their voices and that in their 
glances as they marched and sang, they the freest 
and most secularized of the Jews of the world, which 
brought to mind what one had read of religious demon- 
strations in the Middle Ages, what one had seen 
of great evangelical revival meetings in one's own 
time. The phenomenon was a religious phenomenon, 
a release and outpouring of hidden streams of feel- 
ing, and bearing the ideology of an immemorial 

To these also, in the moment of crisis — even joyful 
crisis — Palestine, which had been changed from an ideal 
centre of other-worldly emotion into a locus of practical 
endeavour, became religious again. The crisis simply 

"VITA NUOVA?" 277 

brought a reversion of mind to that basic other-worldly 
tendency whose mitigation has been the chief function 
and best effect of secular Zionism. If the mood of 
the parading crowds on Fifth Avenue has a meaning, 
the meaning is that for the Diaspora at least there is 
the danger that Zion will remain what it always has 
been — a compensatory ideal. Those who do not live 
in Palestine have ever been too ready to give as a some- 
how religious duty, and those who do live in Palestine 
have been ever too ready to take as a somehow religious 
right, what, is after all, nothing more or less than 
charity. 1 The Zionist organization, in a very great 
degree in spite of itself, has been an eleemosynary 
institution, and the Jewish inhabitants of Palestine, 
only in very sporadic instances in spite of themselves, 
have been objects of philanthropy. The emotional 
survivals which manifest themselves by the readiness 
of Jewry outside the land to give become with the 
application of the Treaty of San Remo a thing sinister: 
the continuance of the eleemosynary activities ac- 
quires an ominous import. Their discontinuance, or 
rather, their alteration into a programme relevant to 
the new status of Palestine, requires a change of heart 
which conditions on the European continent to a large 
degree preclude, and of which at the present writing 2 
there is no sign in England or in America. Nowhere 
except among the handful of American leaders does 
there appear to be any adequate realization that Pales- 
tine is not any longer a symbolic vision of an other- 
worldly future of salvation from death and the fear 
of death; that Palestine is at last a present solid and 

x Vid. supra, Chapters IX and X. 
2 July, 1921. 


coercive fact, whose saving power can be brought into 
operation only by swift and extensive readjustments 
of temper and attitude; readjustments, moreover, not 
merely to Palestine, an und fur sich, as Hegel used to 
say, but to the specific and concrete and living Palestine 
which is a node in a network of complicated relation- 
ships that stretch from England to India and around 
the world, involving the whole economic process of 
modern civilization, with its political and ethnographical 
and religious relationships. 

This Palestine, the Palestine that has been the object 
of racial rivalries and the subject of imperialist ex- 
ploitation, the Palestine of the Arab fellahin and the 
Jewish Halukah-tsikers, the Palestine that Allenby 
conquered and that the Treaty of San Remo allocated, 
this and no other it is that the Jews are to build their 
national home upon. And this Palestine is a challenge 
— no easy one — to the competency, the realism, and 
the moral enthusiasm of the Jews of the entire world. 
The meeting of this challenge — the success of which 
alone can establish that normalization of the Jewish 
position in which all Jews have a stake — will be watched 
by a world far from unanimous in its friendliness. Our 
survey of the mind of Europe, past and present, re- 
garding the Jews shows that the climax has been 
reached. The alternative to success in Palestine 
and coordinately, normalization in the Diaspora, is 
destruction — violently as in central Europe, or through 
progressively swifter assimilation as in the United 
States. But the old ambiguity of the Jewish position 
is doomed. 

The situation created by the San Remo decision thus 
demands from the Jews a new attitude and new func- 

"VITA NUOVA?" 279 

tions. In the course of time, the situation would no 
doubt evoke the attitude appropriate to itself; but 
time is here, as in military operations, an essential in 
determining failure or success. The new attitude must 
be created as foresight and establish itself as habit, 
instead of merely establishing itself as habit; it must be 
a plan before it is a process. The new functions re- 
quire new organs, and these again cannot be waited 
for to grow; they must be created ad hoc. Hence, 
in its present form, the Zionist organization is irrelevant 
to the realities of the Zionist position. Secular though 
the movement it expresses may be, it rests, neverthe- 
less, upon a fund of unconscious feelings and trends 
which are introverted, compensatory, and defensive 
rather than objective and adjustive. As a consequence, 
its fiscal institutions, for example, have not been con- 
spicuous for economic insight or even intelligent admin- 
istration. Both the Jewish Colonial Trust with its 
subsidiaries and the Jewish National Fund are in need 
of fundamental reorganization — in method, function, 
and personnel. Their assets must be made liquid, 
their bookkeeping modern, and their policies regardful 
of the realities of a Palestine to be settled by self- 
supporting and not supported Jews. 

The other institutions of the movement, again, its 
Congress and its executive agencies, have been too much 
postulated upon propaganda and philanthropy. In- 
evitably so, no doubt, since the Jews have so long been a 
disfranchised and landless people, and the only peculiar 
institutions they have been able to develop in the course 
of their long life in Europe have been those of their 
religion, their charity, and their literary culture. But 
whatever the reason, Zionism has been over too great a 


period dominated by cultural conceptions to the ex- 
clusion of more fundamental economic and political 
ones, 1 and its leadership had, prior to the war, been 
drawn too exclusively from journalists, orators, lay 
preachers, schoolmasters, and such, all excellent for 
purposes of propaganda and instruction, helpless, 
as events showed again and again, particularly during 
the years of the war, to meet fundamental situations 
in fundamental terms. What the war created as an 
occasion, the peace converts into constant necessity. 
The international Zionist organization needs a com- 
plete recasting of its form and technique if it is 
effectively to carry out its new functions. It needs 
a complete overhauling of its personnel. In this, it 
is face to face with its acid test. Its leadership is 
face to face with its acid test. For such an over- 
hauling and reconstruction require a decision between 
public duty and personal position which those who 
are acquainted with the temperament of the orator and 
writer and such know is neither easy nor a foregone 
conclusion. A propaganda organization whose object 
invariably touches off fundamental emotions and whose 
realization is remote easily becomes an end in itself 
at the expense of its object — political parties are 
perennial examples — the instrument displaces the end, 
the camel drives the master from the tent. A rehabili- 
tation of the essential relationships may then become 
extremely difficult or even impossible. This is a danger 
of which the Zionists may well beware. 

The purpose of Zionism is now the effective establish- 
ment of the Jewish Commonwealth in Palestine. 
Logically, if this purpose can be best accomplished 

1 Cf. supra, Chapters VII and VIII. 



through keeping the Zionist organization intact, then 
it should be kept intact. If it can be best accomplished 
by entirely making over the Zionist organization, then 
it should be made over, and if it can be best accom- 
plished by abolishing the Zionist organization, then it 
should be abolished. Of course no such logical con- 
sideration of alternatives is likely to take place; the 
same trend by which a child clings for years to a rag- 
doll, in spite of many better-made and more satis- 
factory playthings, makes men cling to antiquated 
tools and survival-types of organization, particularly 
if their vanities and sense of personal worth and 
achievement cohere in them: livelihoods need in this 
connection not be mentioned, for there are none or 
few. In the case of the Zionists, thus, the problem 
is critical. 1 

*Since the above was written news comes from London bearing out the 
analysis. At the Annual Conference of 1920, Mr. Justice Brandeis proposed 
a fundamental reconstruction that would actually have subordinated the 
organization to its purposes and that would have created for it organs ade- 
quate to the new functions which the situation requires. The proposal 
failed of acceptance, largely through the type of motive discussed above. 
The subsequent activities of the officers of the international organization 
seem to have been determined thereby to the point of a complete break with 
the realistic American leaders who demanded that administrative integrity 
should replace sentimental looseness, and the economic needs of Palestine 
should take precedence over the organization politics of Zionism. This 
demand was apparently granted. The business of the new Inner Actions 
Committee which was chosen at the London Conference was to be reor- 
ganization and retrenchment in both London and Jerusalem, and construc- 
tion in Palestine. A Reorganization Commission, with full power, was ap- 
pointed to undertake the work in Palestine. But its activities were nullified 
before they were begun, and two members of the Commission, Messrs Simon 
and DeLieme, who were also members of Inner Actions Committee, were 
forced into resignation. The immediate cause of their resignation was a 
secret agreement made by Doctor Weizmann with M. Jabotinsky by which 
M. Jabotinsky, who had failed of election to the Inner Actions Committee 
at the London Conference, was to be added to it, with the understanding that 
the conditions on which he assumed membership would be met. These 
conditions were that the controls which the World Zionist Organization 
exercised over the Keren Hayesod would be abolished. The Keren 
Hayesod, or Foundation Fund, was the new fiscal agency which had, by a 


It is the more critical because, without its solution, 
there cannot be accomplished, within a reasonable 
time, that change in the Jewish habit of mind regarding 
Palestine upon which the successful establishment of 
the Jewish homeland is postulated. Both the feeling 
and action of the people need to be redirected so as to 
work in relevant and not defensive or compensatory 
ways toward the upbuilding of the restored Jewish 
homeland. Such a redirection cannot be accomplished 

vague resolution, been ordered by the London Conference. Its control was 
like that of the other financial institutions of the Zionist Movement, kept 
in the hands of the World Zionist Organization by giving it fifty-one per cent, 
of the voting power, which was exercised for it by a governor appointed for 
that purpose by the Inner Actions Committee. It was this control that was 
abolished. Under the charter which was subsequently drawn for it, the 
Keren Hayesod becomes a corporation with unlimited powers, of such a sort 
that it may displace both the Zionist Congress and its executive agencies. 
The American leaders were opposed to this. They had found reason to mis- 
trust the integrity and the competency of some of the administrative officers 
in both London and Palestine. These, they had discovered, had been con- 
stantly exceeding the budget, had diverted trust-funds to meet current 
expenses; had, without authority or right, made use of non-Zionist monies 
for Zionist purposes, and violated the integrity and broken the statutes of 
the Jewish National Fund. 

The explanations offered by DoctorWeizmann for himself and his colleagues 
were those of emergency and necessity. They rationalized these explana- 
tions in terms of what they called a "philosophy" of the Zionist position — 
namely, that Palestine and the Jewish National Home are not identical, 
and that it is the business of the Zionists to make the two identical. Differ- 
ences of opinion and policy between the representatives of the national 
Jewish interest in Palestine and the British colonial interest were not only 
possible, they were inevitable. Jewish activities in Palestine must be such 
as would be sure to attain the Jewish objective. Although those of the 
mandatory would often be in harmony with them, quite as often they would 
not be. Hence the need for the Keren Hayesod, hence the justification of 
budgetary looseness and the other irregularities. Hence the need for a 
strong centralized Zionist organization, for work in the Diaspora, for Dias- 
pora Nationalism, and all the complications of a propaganda-organization. 

To which the American reply indicates that the American leaders agree 
with the "philosophy," but do not see how the conclusions of Dr. Weizmann 
and his colleagues can be drawn from the premises it supplies. With respect 
to the Keren Hayesod, to budgetary and other irregularities, they drew the 
exactly opposite conclusions. (See the Annual Report of Zionist Organiza- 
tion of America, for the period November 1, 1920, to May 31, 1021, particu- 
larly, Exhibit S.) The differences did not lie in "philosophy." They lay in 
the fact that the Americans were thinking in terms of the economic actualities 

. . T7T'' 


through propaganda merely. Whatever success ac- 
crued to the propagandist movement, prior to the 
Great War, was itself something in the nature of an 
unearned increment upon the existing funds of feeling 
and the instituted will of the Jewish masses regarding 
Palestine. The corrective and salvational character 
of the feeling has already been indicated; it keeps 
Palestine still so much a gratifying fantasy in the con- 
sciousness of the masses that they resent any realistic 

of Palestine and the Diaspora, and the Europeans were thinking in terms of 
the political complications within the Zionist Organization. Consequently, 
Doctor Weizmann and his colleagues resented the resolution adopted by the 
Convention of the Zionist Organization of America at Buffalo, on November 
28, 1921, which separated donation from investment funds, and otherwise 
sought to keep Zionist activity in Palestine on solid ground. In answer to his 
letter embodying his objections, Judge Mack was directed by the National 
Executive Committee to formulate a reply which should embody "a detailed 
statement on the position of the American Organization." This reply took 
the form of a memorandum (Exhibit 3 of the Report mentioned above) 
which was submitted to Doctor Weizmann on his arrival in the United States 
in April accompanied by Messrs. Ussishkin and Mossinsohn, from Palestine, 
and conducting Albert Einstein. 

Negotiations began which revealed at once a deep fissure between the 
American leaders on the one side and the Europeans on the other. In the 
National Executive Committee itself a minority, the customary opposition, 
had voted against the memorandum and had dissociated itself from its 
representations. This minority took sides with Weizmann and his colleagues. 
As time went on, the fissure widened and deepened. The Yiddish press, with 
the exception of one paper, was solid against the American leaders. The 
minority conducted a powerful propaganda against them. The accusation, 
made by Weizmann even before the London Conference, that they con- 
templated a Zionist "Monroe Doctrine," and taken up by the American 
opposition after the Conference as a rallying cry, was shouted from the 
housetops. They were accused of secession from the W T orld Zionist Organiza- 
tion, they were accused of rebellion against the duly-constituted authority 
of Weizmann and his Keren Hayesod. They were particularly accused of 
being disregardful of the respect due to distinguished guests. It was said 
that they were not Jews, that they did not understand the heart of the Jewish 
people; that they were autocrats, out of touch with the democracy. 

That they were out of touch, and very completely out of touch, soon 
became obvious. The facts they pointed to, the records they published, were 
denounced by the press and the minority as exaggerations or mitigated as 
"emergencies." Their explanation that far from seceding, it was they 
who were protecting the integrity of the World Zionist Organization from 
usurpation fell on deaf ears. Their plea that they were seeking to protect 
the honour of the World Zionist Organization by securing standards of trustee- 


account of its own character or that of its Jewish 
inhabitants. To overcome this, how much careful 
teaching will they not need that a happy Palestine 
to-morrow implies complete disillusion about Palestine's 
to-day. They will require a new ideology, a new phi- 
losophy of Zion, established as habit in thought and in 
action, through a new objective, new institutions, 
and a new technique. There should be no fear that 

ship and the customary safeguards for trust funds was ignored. That the 
officers of administration in Palestine "did not put the money in their own 
pockets" but used it for Zionist purposes was regarded as sufficient vindi- 
cation of their honesty and their efficiency. "Our Weizmann," "Our 
Ussishkin," Zionists for so long, the press and the orators declared, 
could do no wrong; these accusations grew out of the secessionism of 
the autocratic newcomers in the movement, like Mack and Brandeis. 
In a word, American Jewry was in the grip of a wave of emotion, a religion- 
like frenzy with Weizmann and the Keren Hayesod as its objects of worship, 
which made it as impervious to the realities of the case as any country 
community under the influence of the evangelical revivalist. Pledges of all 
sorts and sizes were made to the Keren Hayesod which Weizmann formally 
opened by proclamation on April 17, 1921. Reception committees were 
organized and passionate meetings held. The delegates to the Convention 
which the majority of the Executive Committee decided to call for a determi- 
nation of the issue, were overwhelmingly instructed against Judge Mack and 
his administration. Upon the rejection of his report, by a vote of 139 to 
75 — acceptance would have been tantamount to a vote of confidence — he and 
more than two thirds of the Executive Committee resigned, declaring at the 
same time that they could not hold any office in the Zionist Organization so 
long as it was opposed to the principles for which they stood. Simultane- 
ously, a letter was read from M. Justice Brandeis endorsing the stand taken 
by Judge Mack and his associates, and resigning as Honorary President of 
the Zionist Organization of America. He has also tendered his resignation as 
Honorary President of the World Zionist Organization. 

Thus, in the United States, in Europe and in Palestine, the responsibility for 
the future, so far as it is in the hands of the Zionist Organization, falls squarely 
and unequivocally upon the pre-war propagandist group. The American 
leadership — for although rejected by a majority they will be responded to 
as a leadership because of their distinction of character, their position in public 
life, their moral authority, and their unparalleled services to the cause — are 
now liberated from the restrictions set upon their work for Palestine by the 
past and politics of the Zionist Organizaton. They can go at the task of 
upbuilding Jewish Palestine as a living economy without internal hindrance. 
At the conference they held with their followers in Cleveland after the rejec- 
tion of Judge Mack's report, they determined to do so. Time alone can 
show whether they are capable of the success in which must lie their vindica- 

"VITA NUOVA?" 285 

such a philosophy need or can be a break with the old. 
It will differ from the old because inevitably it must 
rest upon a different set of determining conditions 
and must consist of the development and rounding-out 
of the implications of these conditions; but within 
this development the old cannot fail to be absorbed 
and transmuted. 

These determining conditions are organically inter- 
related. They differ from those which grounded the 
Basle Programme in that they are positive rather than 
negative. The conditions that led Herzl to his great 
enterprise still, as we have seen, obtain and are likely 
to obtain, for generations to come. But now they 
are essentially at the periphery of the Jews' problem, 
not at its centre. With the San Remo decision the 
Basle Programme has been realized. And with the 
realization of the Basle programme the centre of the 
Jews' problem has shifted from the Diaspora to Pales- 
tine. Americans have expressed the change in the 
formula that the Basle Programme must be replaced 
by the Pittsburgh Programme. What they mean is 
that the nature of the free Jewish commonwealth, 
which in the fullness of time is to grow up and function 
in Palestine, has become the norm-giving objective 
in the affairs of the Jewish people. 

The conditions which set the formal limits and imply 
the constitutional pattern of this commonwealth are, 
broadly speaking, of three orders — political, ethno- 
graphic, and economic. Of these the first is the most 
immediate, closest to the apparent and given motives 
of men; the second is the most instinctive, but manifest 
rather in terms of aesthetic and religion, in terms of 
cultural nationality; the last is the most coercive, 


determining the form of the community, its tempo, 
and its power. 

To consider them in their order: 

The political complex in which Palestine is an item 
exhibits the same duplexity which has already been 
observed in the Treaty of Versailles, its consequents 
and derivatives. The elements of this duplexity 
are an imperialistic drive in foreign policy coupled 
with what is practically a class-war in domestic affairs. 
The more sharply defined the latter is, the more uncer- 
tain and vacillating is the former. Thus, the strength 
of the Labour Party in Great Britain can be measured 
by the changes in the Government's policy toward 
Egypt, toward India, toward Mesopotamia, toward 
Russia. The changes in all these items are in the 
direction indicated by the ideology of the Fourteen 
Points — national self-government, democracy, non- 
interference in the internal affairs of other countries. 
In France, on the other hand, which has a prevailingly 
agricultural economy, organized labour is weak, and 
the imperialism of the French has become the effective 
successor of the imperialism of the Germans. The 
weakness may be measured by the treatment accorded 
by the French to the Syrians, to Feisal; by their in- 
trigues in central Europe with Poland and Hungary 
against Russia, and in America with political oppon- 
ents of the government against President Wilson's 
conception of peace terms and the League of Nations. 1 

1 Cf. the press reports of conferences between Senator Lodge and French 
officials regarding peace terms during the winter and summer of 1919 and 
the announcement of a set of terms by Senator Lodge remarkably like those 



Now the governments of both France and Great 
Britain are pledged to the realization of the Balfour 
Declaration in fact. Both have underwritten it in 
the Treaty of San Remo. 

But here the similarity ends. For the French this 
underwriting is an item incidental to the game of im- 
perialism, to be adhered to or repudiated as advantage 
and opportunity require. The underwriting is an 
action of the French Government to which the French 
people are indifferent or slightly hostile, but in which 
they have no direct emotional or practical concern. 
For the English, on the other hand, the underwriting 
has a background of extensive and thorough-going 
public discussion. It is an action representing — bar 
certain vested missionary and ecclesiastical interests 
and professional anti-Semites — the united will of all 
the people. Not the government alone, the Opposi- 
tion also, stands behind the Balfour Declaration. It 
was the pressure of the Labour Party, quite as much 
as the pledges of the government, that made that 
declaration a part of the law of nations at San Remo. 
It was the pressure of the Labour Party most of all 
that overcame the opposition of the militarists and made 
Great Britain directly responsible for the fulfilment 
of the terms of the declaration by demanding the 
acceptance of the mandate for Palestine under those 
terms. The Labour Party, from the time that it 
first took a stand on the objects of the war 1 to the 
present day, has been staunchly and actively sympa- 
thetic to the Zionist endeavour. Its first step in support 

of the French agent, Cheradame. Later, the announcement made by the 
Republican candidate for President, Senator, now President Harding, of a 
conference with a French emissary regarding the League of Nations. 

1 Cf. Statement on War Aims. 


was taken not without hesitation. Its last was taken 
in full confidence. It was taken in full confidence 
because it saw in the rebuilding of a Jewish homeland 
in Palestine an opportunity not only to right a historic 
wrong, but to try out within the limits of conscious and 
technical control an important experiment in creative 
democracy; because it regarded the Pittsburgh Pro- 
gramme of the American Zionists as a pledge that con- 
ditions permitting this experiment would be 1 con- 
scientiously attempted. It knew that the terms of this 
programme were written into the draft form of the 
mandate presented by the Zionists to the British 
Government for consideration. And whether the 
terms are accepted by the British Foreign Office 
depends largely, again, on the pressure that the public 
opinion of Great Britain may bring to bear. For, 
although the mandate is issued, its terms are not yet 
established, and whether the San Remo decision may 
become a decision in fact as well as in law, whether a 
Jewish commonwealth shall ultimately grow up in 
Palestine, in what manner, and what kind of common- 
wealth, depends to a very large degree upon the terms 
of the mandate. These terms are in Great Britain a 
domestic issue with imperialistic implications. They 
may become, they should be, if the Foreign Office 
should prefer the programme of the militarists to 
the endeavour of the Zionists, an item in the struggle 
between owners and workers which has marked the 
recent domestic history of Great Britain. 

But they are implied, perhaps even more fundamen- 
tally, in the duel of empire. For the economy of 
Palestine, the number of people it can support, its 

l Cf. The London Daily Herald, March 25, 1920. 

"VITA NUOVA?" 289 

cultural status and social organization must depend 
very largely upon the degree of industrialization it can 
attain. Industrialization depends on power, and in 
Palestine at the present stage of technical control of 
power, power on any scale can be nothing except 
water-power, and water-power is a matter of boun- 
daries, particularly of the northern boundaries. The 
whole future of Palestine is in the hands of the state 
which controls the Litani, the Yarmuk, and the head- 
waters of the Jordan. And just now that state is 
imperialistic France to whose rulers Palest' ne is a 
mere pawn in their imperialistic game. The French 
Government has, according to occasion, taken con- 
flicting attitudes regarding Palestine. It is committed 
to the Balfour Declaration and its consequences. 
It has also made counter commitments to the Lebanon 
and to the scattered handful of pro-French pan-Syrians. 
It is, however, in no degree much concerned with 
either. Its dispute with Britain over the northern 
boundary of Palestine is an item less pertinent to its 
Syrian than to its European policy. It is demanding 
the letter of the secret and repudiated Sykes-Picot 
Treaty and the full measure of the tripartite agreement 
that it may in return for conceding the letter receive 
a substantial concession regarding Russia or Germany 
or central Europe. It may well be content to wreck 
Jewish Palestine if it can thereby gain some advantage 
for the international finance whose headquarters is in 
France. That, in the tentative agreements regarding 
the northern boundary 1 it has not done so, is to its 

J The agreement concedes to the Zionists the use of the waters of the upper 
Jordan and the Yarmuk under an arrangement to be worked out by French 
and Zionist technicians. The Zionists desire the inclusion of the Valley 
of the Yarmuk and the headwaters of the Jordan under the British mandate. 


credit, but is to be associated with the reparations 

Now, however the boundary disputes will be deter- 
mined, the practical question for the Jews is clearly the 
question, not of present advantage with the powers 
that be but of harmony in the long run with the trend 
of life in Great Britain which will dominate domestic 
activities and establish ideals. That this trend is 
toward industrial democracy need not be argued: 
it is predestined, and only the destruction of industrial 
society can liberate it from its destiny. A vicious 
boundary is much less troublesome, in an experiment 
like Jewish Palestine, than an antipathetic public 
opinion in the country whose public opinion is the sole 
effective sustaining force of the experiment. The 
minds of the present active officials of the inter- 
national Zion'st organization do not, however, reveal 
any adequacy to think in terms of the long run here 
indicated. By background, training, aptitude, and 
outlook they express at best the liberalism and 
sentimentality of the mid-Victorian ideals that are 
the mental furniture of the American progressive. 
They exhibit an obvious taste for diplomacy, and 
a distinct distaste, particularly in England, for po- 
litical and economic realism. If they are without 
the fanatical intransigence of the Zeiri Zionists and 
the Poale Zionists of the continent, they lack also 
the saving cynicism whose absence makes diplo- 
macy a losing game. They are at once too sincere 
for diplomatic guile, and too wordly-wise for revo- 
lutionary force. In a word, they are sentimentalists, 
and they are sentimentalists in a position requir- 
ing the clearest and coldest realization of specific 

"VITA NUOVA?" 291 

living trends — in England first and then in Asia 



For the difficulty that attaches to the political 
situation in England attaches in like manner to the 
whole social situation in Asia Minor. The sentimental- 
ism of the Jews — manifested in its most vicious form 
in the conduct of the business of the Palestine Com- 
mission by Menahem Ussishkin (a conduct which re- 
pelled the English and angered the Arabs) — prevents 
the clear realization of the conditions that must de- 
termine ethnographic adjustment not only between 
the Jews and the other Palestinians, but between 
the Jews and the other non-Turkish peoples of Asia 
Minor. Of these the Arabic-speaking peoples constitute 
the great majority. Tradition — truly or falsely, does 
not matter — declares a blood relationship to exist 
between them and the Jews. History, far more ex- 
plicit and verifiable, records a cultural cooperation 
between them, lasting through the Golden Age of 
Arab civilization. The exigencies of imperialism have 
imposed upon both a common political interest in 
the preservation of their corporate integrities. Feisal, 
when the French displayed their conception of the 
mandatory principle (under which the mandates are 
to be issued with the consent of the people concerned), 
by driving him out of Damascus and imposing by force 
their overlordship on his kingdom, declared that his 
people must appeal for the cooperation of the Zionists. 
Similarly, the Jews are not unlikely to find that the 
terms of the mandate which the imperialistic and mili- 
tary clique will allow are such as will facilitate the 
complete shift of the base of defense of the Suez Canal 


from Egypt to Palestine and the security of the Arab 
hinterland, but are not such as will facilitate the swift 
and adequate development of Palestine as a Jewish 
homeland. 1 They will then need even more absolutely 
than now the sympathy, the good-will, and the coopera- 
tion of their Arab neighbours. The cultivation of 
good relations with the Arabs becomes thus the fore- 
most desideratum of a realistic Jewish policy. 

Such a cultivation can, at the outset, be political 
only in one respect. That respect is, however, funda- 
mental to the effective foundation of a new interna- 
tional order. It is in respect of the mandatory prin- 
ciple laid down in the covenant of the League of Na- 
tions and underwritten by very nearly all the civilized 
states in the world. Whether this principle shall 

1 A draft Mandate for Palestine has since this writing been laid before 
the Council of the League of Nations. So far as the Jews are concerned, 
it does nothing more than repeat and amplify the indeterminate formula 
of the Balfour declaration: to the mandatory, on the other hand, it assigns 
"all the powers inherent in the government of a sovereign state," including 
those of using the man-power, facilities, and resources of the land for military 
purposes, and completely controlling foreign affairs. It commits the man- 
datory to the development of Palestine as the "Jewish national home" what- 
ever this may mean, and designates the Zionist Organization as the "Jewish 
Agency" to help it in this task, so long as this agency's "organization and 
constitution are in the opinion of the mandatory appropriate. " It permits 
the Palestine Administration to aid in the immigration of Jews to Palestine 
and their admission to citizenship there. It requires the administration 
to introduce "a land system appropriate to the needs of the country" and 
allows it "full power to provide" for public ownership and control of national 
resources, "public works, services, and utilities, and permits it to arrange 
with the Jewish agency" to develop or establish these on condition that 
profits shall be reasonable and excess profits shall be used for the benefit 
of the land. And it recognizes Hebrew as an official language. Its whole 
effect, so far as it concerns the Jews, is permissive far more than directive. 
Everything regarding them comes ultimately to depend upon the good-will 
of the Administration, not upon the compulsions of fundamental law. The 
inferences from this situation are obvious. The Arab riots in Jaffa on May 
7, 1921, are a commentary on it; the latest exposition, in practically iden- 
tical terms, by both Samuel and Churchill, of the meaning of the Balfour 
Declaration, limiting its scope, are a commentary on it. Both Jews and 
Arabs must beware; Jews, particularly. 

"VITA NUOVA?" 293 

be a hypocritical cloak for imperialistic exploitation or 
shall be carried out in good faith depends to-day exclu- 
sively upon the Jews and the Arabs. In the vindica- 
tion of the mandatory principle they have absolutely 
a common cause before the bar of international justice. 

They have in it absolutely a common enterprise 
toward the establishment of international peace. 
For the mandatory principle contains in itself the 
essential repudiation of imperialism and all its works. 
In the degree in which its provisions are successfully 
enforced, the financial exploitation of weaker peoples 
and the military collisions therein implicated become 
impossible. But the enforcement of the mandatory 
principle is hardly likely to arise out of the respect 
for it by the governments at present holding mandates. 
It will be compelled only by the peoples who are the 
subjects of the mandates, and of these peoples alone 
the Jews and Arabs have the competency to exact 
the attention and secure the support of the enlightened 
public opinion of the world. There is thus in the 
international position created for the Jews by the 
Treaty of San Remo and in the Arab connection some- 
thing that the religious-minded would no doubt call 
predestination — the predestination of making real 
in some sense the prophecy of Isaiah that the law 
shall go forth from Jerusalem and the word of the Lord 
from Zion to the effect that men shall beat their swords 
into plowshares and their spears into pruning-hooks, 
that nation shall not lift up the sword against nation 
nor learn war any more. 

Such a culmination, obtained so far as may be 
through the enforcement of the mandatory principle, 
is no doubt a matter first of the effective confirmation 


of the principle and then of the slow accumulation 
of precedents and the establishment of habits which 
would foreclose such default by mandatory powers 
as cannot in the nature of things fail to be attempted. 
Meanwhile, the validation of this common cause of 
Arab and Jew must rest upon a unity far more com- 
petent than merely common action under the covenant 
of the League of Nations. It requires a unity estab- 
lished through a meeting of minds, an interchange 
of intellectual culture, a cooperation in the public 
enterprises necessary to the smooth going and the 
progressive enrichment of the daily life of the two 
peoples. The Jews cannot too soon create in their 
University a Department of Arabic Life and Letters. 
They cannot too soon open all their schools, from the 
highest to the lowest, to the Arabs at home and abroad, 
and invite reciprocity. As Feisal has repeatedly 
pointed out, cultural communion must be coupled 
with economic cooperation, and the building up of 
Palestine must be accompanied by the development 
of Syria and Mesopotamia. The need is particularly 
great to raise the standard of living of the Palestin- 
ian fellah. Already the mere existence of the Jewish 
colonies, poor as they are, has done much for his wages 
and his health — this is one of the reasons for the ani- 
mus of the effendi and the money-lender against Zionism. 
But there is still much to do. The fellah must be 
completely freed from the exploitation of the landlord 
and the usurer, and must receive the maximum op- 
portunity for education in the Jewish schools and for 
the absorption of Jewish standards of life, labour, and 
thought. That this must be accomplished not by 
coercion but by contagion is, of course, obvious. 


The fellah of Palestine is a case of the arrested develop- 
ment and enforced degradation typical of the whole 
Arabic-speaking and Mohammedan world. The cul- 
tural level on which he has found stability is barbarous. 
His rise above it is restricted by the accumulations of 
immemorial precepts, prescriptions, and taboos which 
even in the Bible appear in already vestigial form. 
From these he will need to be moved by attraction, 
not impulsion. With the Jewish avenues toward 
culture and occidentalism open, with no constraints 
from without, and particularly with the example 
of Jewish success and prosperity before his eyes, 
he will, in the course of time, of his own motion seek 
a status wherein he will help to elevate, as he now de- 
grades, the standards and conditions of life of his 
European Jewish neighbour. 

The ultimate outcome of such a process is, willy- 
nilly, likely to be, within Palestine, the assimilation 
to one another of Jew and Arab, and on the European 
level of life and culture; outside of Palestine, the realiza- 
tion of that confederation of the peoples of Asia Minor 
which Sir Mark Sykes dreamed of, and to which his 
unfortunate arrangement with Picot is to-day the 
most serious obstacle. 


If the political situation has its ethnographic im- 
plications and the ethnographic relations carry their 
political responsibilities, involving a condition and 
requiring a will to make effective the prophetic vision 
of international peace; so also the economic situation, 
which underlies both the others, has its implications. 
These involve a condition requiring a will to make 


effective the prophetic vision of national righteousness. 

The struggle to establish this righteousness seems 
to be the outstanding fact of the internal history of 
the ancient Jewish state. One of the most interest- 
ing things about the literature of that state is the ab- 
sence of political writings. In other ancient states — 
the Athenian, for example — political form seems to be 
a paramount concern. With Plato and Aristotle, the 
political organization of the state is the outstanding 
preoccupation and their successors are legion. Ancient 
Hebrew literature seems to ignore altogether political 
forms. It seems to take them for granted, and the 
changes in Hebrew government seem to be changes neces- 
sitated by foreign, not by domestic, problems. The 
subject matter of the Prophets, of the two books of law, 
Leviticus and Deuteronomy, is the economy of the state. 

The history of this economy can be summed up very 
briefly. When the Jews slowly conquered Canaan, 
the unit of military action was the tribe, and the land 
that was conquered became the property of the tribe 
as a whole. W T hen it was distributed, the tribe re- 
ceived it first. Thus, Joshua distributes so much land 
to this tribe, so much to that tribe, and so on. The land 
went first into the possession of the tribal community. 
Then the community distributed it to the clans and 
families, and from these it could not be alienated 
except as subject to the right of preemption by the 
next of kin. Transfer to persons outside the clan was 
not permitted. Nor, as is told in Numbers, could land 
be transferred from one tribe to another. At the 
outset, then, the land was divided among the families 
and each cultivated its own vine and fig-tree. 

A process of subversion which seems to be universal 

<» \7T'' 


and endemic and as persistent as what is called natural 
law — it may be observed to-day in Texas even as 
then in Palestine or Greece — deprived the peasant 
freeholder first of his land, then perhaps of his children, 
his wife, and, finally, his freedom. In the next stage 
the community is, broadly speaking, a community 
of landowners on the one side and serfs and slaves who 
till the land of the landowners on the other. All the 
prophets, from Amos to Isaiah, are engaged in denounc- 
ing both the process and the condition. They are 
engaged in denouncing the whole system of inequalities 
that it developed, and their reforms are reforms which 
look primarily toward eliminating it and preventing 
its recurrence in the future. Deuteronomy is the 
first step taken toward this end, Leviticus the second. 
Between Deuteronomy and Leviticus came the Babylo- 
nian exile, and it is not improbable that the exiles' 
observation of land tenure and slavery in Babylon, 
no less than of religious ritual, had its influence on 
the drastic reconstruction formulated in the Levitical 
code. The heart of this code is the conception that 
the land belongs to the community as a whole and 
the ordination of an economy based on this conception. 
Under this economy land may be leased but not sold. 
The lease may be determined by the value not of the 
land, but of the crops prior to the year of jubilee. 
And if the original holder wishes to reclaim his land, 
he may do so, refunding the price. In the forty -ninth 
year land must be returned to him whether or no. 
Houses must be treated like land. 

Similarly with respect to the tools of the labourer, 
his clothing, food, and so forth. Both Deuteronomy 
and Leviticus prohibit taking them as pledges. So 


also with interest: it may not be taken from citizens, 
although it may from aliens. 

The attempt is obviously to safeguard the lives and 
liberties of men against the menace involved in private 
ownership or control of natural resources, of the tools 
and instruments of their trades, and in financial ex- 
ploitation. This is to-day familiar doctrine, and it is 
all that is substantial in the "righteousness' 1 which 
the prophets imposed as the conditions of private and 
public security. 

Deuteronomy and Leviticus reveal the pattern of 
the problem which the prophets anciently faced 
and the solutions which the prophets found. They 
have apparently set the standard for all time. Hardly 
any of the proposals of contemporary Utopians and 
thinkers, no matter how radical or how temporizingly 
statesmanlike, do more than envisage the same es- 
sential confrontations, and propound, in varying 
degrees, the same essential solutions. Modernly, how- 
ever, the anatomy of the situation has been compli- 
cated by the addition of the automatic machine. The 
machine has added to the problem new factors and 
to its solution new elements. The difference between 
the tasks of Nehemiah and Samuel may turn on noth- 
ing else beside. 

Now the effect of the automatic machine on the 
problem of livelihood in Palestine is to render impossi- 
ble there economic self-sufficiency and a merely agricul- 
tural economy. Even the mass of the fellah, whose 
margin of sustenance is barely above the starvation 
point, have felt the influence of the machine and have 
become dependent on outside for necessaries such as 
clothing, and more often than not, for food. The 

4 VITA NUOVA?" 299 

Jews, with a much higher standard of living, even 
among the poorest of them, have so far not succeeded 
in establishing themselves in a merely agricultural — 
and so primitively agricultural! — Palestine. If Pales- 
tine is to become a Jewish commonwealth, hence, 
its agriculture will have to be industrialized at least 
to the degree in which it is industrialized in the United 
States, and in addition it will need to develop an in- 
dustrial economy — particularly, perhaps, in terms of 
textiles — that can quickly absorb, employ, and support 
a large Jewish immigration. 

But wherever industry has come, there have come 
radical modifications in the structure of society and 
a clash of interests — not, as we shall see, necessary — 
usually called the class war. New social formations 
have come into existence — banks, trusts, labour unions, 
regulative commissions, and so on. The country has 
been put at the mercy of the city and the farmer of 
the miller, the commission merchant and the banker. 
Thus, in the United States the clash between industrial 
worker and owner, taking form as the " labour' ' 
problem, is paralleled by the clash between producer 
and distributor, taking form in the "problem" of 
the Non-Par tisan League. Similar situations are to be 
found everywhere. It is clear that nothing but ad- 
vantage could accrue to Jewish Palestine if these 
situations could be averted from the outset. For the 
problem of constructing the Jewish commonwealth 
is already very complex and difficult. The mass of 
the new settlers will come from central and eastern 
Europe. That means that they will not be either 
emotionally or physically the stuff that pioneers are 
ordinarily made of: the Poles and Ukrainians and the 


Hungarians and Rumanians have seen to that. Their 
organization, instruction, and activities will need to be 
such as will enable them to recover in the shortest 
possible time health, hope, and self-dependence, to evoke 
their initiative and to encourage them in the emulations 
of work; a morale will have to be created for them; and 
this in the presence and against the contagion of the 
lower economy and hope of the Arabs. To permit 
the complication of this problem by the addition of an 
unnecessary and dangerous " labour' ' problem would 
be the height of folly. Yet, since inertia, sentiment, 
and prejudice govern men more than either insight or 
hindsight one may not doubt that the height will be 


Nevertheless, an attempt has been made to keep the 
development of Palestine on the plains of commonsense. 
This attempt is the Pittsburgh Programme. Its 
origin is to be sought in a series of discussions which 
began between some of the members of a small group 
of American Zionists calling themselves "Parushim," 
shortly after the publication of Mr. Balfour's letter 
to Lord Rothschild. The eight or nine men and women 
who participated in the discussion were of all shades 
of opinion and of all schools in economic thought. By 
common consent they determined to leave doctrine 
as nearly as possible to the doctrinaries and to face 
the problem of the economy of Palestine developing 
into a free Jewish commonwealth in terms of the con- 
ditions which such a development must meet and must 
overcome. The upshot was the agreement upon a 
set of principles which they bound themselves, each 

"VITA NUOVA?" 301 

in his own way, to teach and defend. These principles 
in a modified form were unanimously adopted by the 
convention of the Zionist Organization of America in 
July, 1918, under the title "Resolutions Bearing on 
Palestinian Policy," and reaffirmed at subsequent 
conventions. The formulation of these resolutions 
was the work of one member of the group. The 
modifications were due to the criticisms of the best 
minds of the organization, including Mr. Brandeis. 
The resolutions declare: 

In 1897 the first Zionist Congress at Basle defined the 
object of Zionism to be "the establishment of a publicly 
recognized and legally secured homeland for the Jewish 
people in Palestine." The recent Declaration of Great 
Britain, France, Italy, and others of the allied democratic 
states have established this public recognition of the Jewish 
national home as an international fact. 

Therefore we desire to affirm anew the principles which 
have guided the Zionist Movement since its inception, and 
which were the foundations laid down by our lawgivers and 
prophets for the ancient Jewish state, and were the inspira- 
tion of the living Jewish law embodied in the traditions of 
two thousand years of exile. 

1st. Political and civil equality irrespective of race, 
sex, or faith, for all the inhabitants of the land. 

2nd. To insure in the Jewish national home in Palestine 
equality of opportunity, we favour a policy which with due 
regard to existing rights shall tend to establish the ownership 
and control of the land and of all natural resources, and of 
all public utilities by the whole people. 

3rd. All land, owned or controlled by the whole people, 
should be leased on such conditions as will insure the fullest 
opportunity for development and continuity of possession. 

4th. The cooperative principle should be applied as far 
as feasible in the organization of all agricultural, industrial, 
commercial, and financial undertakings. 


5th. The fiscal policy shall be framed so as to protect 
the people from the evils of land speculation and from 
every other form of financial oppression. 

6th. The system of free public instruction which is to be 
established should embrace all grades and departments of 

7th. The medium of public instruction shall be Hebrew, 
the national language of the Jewish people. 

The discussion of which these principles are a 
precipitate were inevitably wide-ranging, and inevita- 
bly entailed not merely a reversion to economic theories 
and programmes, but an analysis of political and cul- 
tural ideologies. As they went on and agreement came 
closer, they tended to take shape as an attitude of 
mind which involved a practical criticism and restate- 
ment of the postulates or preconceptions of current 
economic theories, whatever their schools. It was 
observed that these theories arose as attempts at 
justifying or correcting special economic situations, 
and that the theories were challenged, opposed, and 
finally displaced as the situations altered. There 
were reviewed and rejected as inapplicable, both 
generally to the whole region of economic life, and 
particularly to Palestine, the assumptions of the 
classical orthodox economists, of the Socialists, of the 
syndicalists, and of the anarchists. All these seemed 
to have arisen as responses to secondary rather than 
primary conditions, and to have undergone distortion 
in the degree that these primary conditions were lost 
sight of. 

In Palestine, however, an undeveloped and backward 
land, the primary conditions were in no way overlaid. 

"VITA NUOVA?" 303 

For all practical purposes, no economy existed in 
Jewish Palestine, only a charity. An economy was 
to be created, and it was to be created by bringing 
together people of a certain character and vision, of 
certain habits of mind and work with a territory 
where even the soil would require special treatment 
before it could begin to support them. The attempt 
to envisage what they must get and what they must 
make led ultimately to an anatomy of the economic 
interests and functions of men, and this to certain 
premises which, commonplace as they seemed, struck 
many of that sophisticated company as the beginnings 
of a restatement of economic theory, having possibilities 
of much wider relevance than Palestine. 

The point of departure for these premises was the 
observation that consumers and producers, even more 
than buyers and sellers, come at a certain level into 
inevitable conflict with each other. This conflict, so 
the argument ran, is more widespread and more funda- 
mental than the Socialist's class war, inasmuch as 
the latter obtains only between different classes of 
producers in the same field of endeavour, while the 
former is coextensive with mankind and obtains in the 
heart of each and every human being. To the question 
why the conflict was thus universal, the answer was 
made that men are born consumers and only become 
producers. Had the world been one that was made 
for them, instead of one in which they happen and 
grow, men would have been consumers purely. The 
world being what it is, they have to make it over to 
prepare it for consumption. Thereby the whole com- 
plicated economy of industrial society comes to be in 
which the ultimate end of production — use, consumption 


— gets displaced by the proximate end, marketing, 
profit; things get made, like the razors bought by the 
Vicar of Wakefield's son at the fair, not for use, but 
usury; not to serve but to sell. And even where use 
is held in view, the conflict is apparent. A baker 
wants to buy the flour and eggs and yeast and housing 
which he consumes as cheaply as possible and wants 
to sell his bread as dearly as possible. His customers, 
who may be the very people from whom he buys these 
things, want their bread as cheaply as possible, but 
tend to charge their own patrons all that the traffic will 

Nor is this the whole story, nor its most impor- 
tant phase. The butcher, the baker, the candlestick- 
maker each produces one thing only, but each consumes 
many things, very many things, that he does not pro- 
duce and that he cannot produce; that, consequently, 
other people must produce for him. His interests as 
consumer have a much wider range and span than his 
interests as producer. His conflict with all other people 
as producer is due to the fact that his consumer's in- 
terest can be served only if he receives a return for 
what he produces adequate to yield him the satisfac- 
tions he craves. His returns on his production are a 
rough measure of the effective range of his consump- 
tion, and the completeness of his satisfactions. 

Now there comes a point in consumption when the 
value begins to fall off. Consumption, no less than 
production, has its law of diminishing returns, con- 
fusedly treated by economists as "diminishing utility." 
In production, however, the law of diminishing returns 
applies only to profits. Where profits are not involved 
production may go on indefinitely; but consumption 

"VITA NUOVA?" 305 

stops where the point of gratification is passed. The 
principle of diminishing returns in consumption makes 
the rich man poor and turns the so-called law of supply 
and demand into a business man's myth. For the 
law confuses consuming power with purchasing power, 
and assumes that demand has been satisfied when 
people have stopped buying. But for the basic 
products of industrial society — food, clothing, shelter, 
protection against danger and disease — social demand, 
consuming power, is insatiable, and purchasing power 
limited. From the point of view of society, supply 
can be exhausted by consuming power, and can and 
often does exhaust purchasing power, as the economy 
of the war and the current economic crises clearly 
enough show. 

With individuals the reverse may be the case. A 
dyspeptic millionaire may have endless purchasing 
power and yet be practically bankrupt in consum- 
ing power; the threshold at which his satisfaction 
stops may be very low, and the number and vari- 
ety of his satisfactions may be very small. Indeed, 
the whole difference between a barbarian and a man 
of culture may be said to lie in these things. The 
production power and skill of each in his own sphere 
may be equal; that of the former may even exceed 
that of the latter. But the latter's capacity for con- 
sumption is enormously extended. The barbarian 
is able to consume only the merest necessities; the 
other requires not alone what the barbarian requires 
but a great many more things which are to him equally 
necessities. Civilization may be defined, in fact, as 
the multiplication of the necessities of life. A standard 
of living is high or low by just what it accepts and what 


it rejects as necessary. And the standard of living is 
the preoccupation of consumption. Currently, it has 
been measured by two conditions — that of health, 
and that of morale. By the latter it was agreed to mean 
the diversity and coherence of consumption interests 
in a common purpose that may express the identity 
and continuity of a human group. Thus the country 
is being deserted and country life is a problem; towns 
are growing in number and complexity because they 
present the concentration of a greater diversity of 
satisfactions. The movement of population from 
country to city is a consumers' movement, not a pro- 
ducers'. City has more articulation, is more shot 
through with spiritual values, its morale is higher. 

The reason is that the city is essentially a centre 
and organization of consumption. Consumption is the 
end or goal of life; production is either an instru- 
ment and servant of consumption or is identical with 
consumption. In the latter case the activities which 
men undertake are free activities, and their nature 
is that of art or science or play. They do not merely 
use material, they use it up. They are recreational 
in both senses of the word, and the associations of 
men who pursue them tend to he free associations with 
professional standards of workmanship and conduct. 
But the bulk of the productive activities in the economy 
of life are not free but bond, not recreational but ex- 
hausting. They constitute, and always must consti- 
tute, labour, not art. For, by and large, there is no 
liberative quality in them. They are things men do 
because they must, not because they want to. 

And the things men do because they must are, on the 
whole, the things which in economic life diversify them; 

a \J-rr 


the things men do because they want to are the things 
which unite them. Men are by nature in need of food, 
clothing, shelter, recreation, medicine; they are not 
by nature farmers or machinists or bakers or physicians 
or weavers or carpenters or printers. Their consuming 
interests are innate; their producing interests are 
acquired. As consumers men are, by and large, simi- 
lar and equal. As producers they are, by and large, 
diversified and unequal. 

In all societies which have attained a certain level 
of organization, the similarities become the basis of 
competition and conflict. Wanting the same things, 
when there are not enough to go round, as when 
consumers want bread and meat, or producers want 
patrons, seems to be the source of all wars, whether 
economic or political. Baker competes with baker, 
not with carpenter; shoemaker competes with shoe- 
maker, not with butcher; and so on. Insofar as men 
are diverse, individual not merely in their vocations, 
but in their natures; they need one another, are inter- 
dependent and cooperative; insofar as they are simi- 
lar, they tend to be competitors. That diversification 
of producers known as the division of labour together 
with the later organization of the diversified pro- 
ducers into guilds, trusts, trade-unions, and so on 
seems in the history of the industrial arts to have been 
conditioned upon the similarity of consumers; com- 
petition for custom was obviated by the differentia- 
tion of services. By means of this diversification and 
the subsequent integration of individuals of similar 
vocation into vocational groups, producers appear to 
have obtained an absolute advantage over the "ulti- 
mate" consumer, an advantage tremendously increased 


through the development of the economy of in- 

The consumers' counter of this advantage has been 
consumers' cooperation. It is a form of organization 
and involves an ideology which appears later in the 
history of economic associations than producers' 
unions. It rests upon the natural and moral priority 
of consumption over production, and converts the 
consumers' similarity and equality from a competitive 
to a cooperative trend. It does so, moreover, under the 
Rochdale plan, without denying gratification to the 
competitive interest, since members of the system 
buy at cost, yet with a profit, really a saving, propor- 
tional to their purchases. Its development has been 
a movement from distribution by consumers for con- 
sumers to production by consumers for consumers. 
Never in its history has it failed to maintain the priority 
of consumption over production, and to extend the 
operation of this priority over greater and greater 
areas of social life. 1 

Producer's cooperatives, both in agriculture and in 
industry, do not take their point of departure from 
the common human interest of the consumer as such 
in conflict with the specialized interests of different 
crafts and trades and industries of producers. They 
take their point of departure from the class war among 
producers, and the difficulties that exist among them 
and that are involved in their theories are due to the 
biases caused by this origin. This makes them aim 
at the establishment of what is only a social means 

1 Cf. George Jacob Holyoake. " The History of Cooperation in England" ; 
"The History of the Rochdale Pioneers"; L. Smith-Gordon and C. O'Brien: 
"Cooperation in Many Lands"; Albert Sonnischsen: "Consumer's Coopera- 

"VITA NUOVA?" 309 

in the position of the social end — which is consumption 
— through the conversion of the tools and the materials 
of production in any craft or trade or industry into 
the property of all the members of the craft, or trade 
or industry. They hypostatize the instrument, 1 aiming 
thus at the same kind of control of the consuming 
public that the capitalist has, minus the class war which 
troubles the power of the capitalist. 

To avoid the menace in such a control, to obviate 
the inevitable conflict between different cooperative 
producers' unions such as would obtain under syndical- 
ism, and yet to make impossible the servile state which 
is the constant menace of socialism, the ownership of 
land, of the resources drawn from the land, of the 
tools and agencies of production, would obviously need 
to be vested in the consumers as consumers. In prac- 
tice this would mean that all the inhabitants of a 
land would be voluntarily associated together, in a 
consumers' cooperative society, having a federal 
structure, and holding title to the land, the natural 
resources, and the machinery by which these are con- 
verted into consumable commodities and services and 
the various wants of men are satisfied. Such an organ- 
ization would guarantee to all the inhabitants of the 
land that usujruct which ownership under the system 
of private, personal property in these things guarantees 
to only a few. The priority of consumption would thus 
be confirmed in organization and in law. 

But if the pattern of economic control were limited 
to this feature, the essential abuses of the modern 
industrial system in which the class war has its ground 
would be neither avoided nor obviated. The producer 

l Cf. H. M. Kallen: "William James and Henri Bergson," Chapter I. 


in any industry would be a wage-earner and at the 
mercy of his employer — in effect, of the management 
of the industry. That he would, as a member of the 
National Consumers' Cooperative society, be to some 
degree owner as well as worker would make no prac- 
tical difference, for his property right would be too 
small — as is the case with employees in English and 
other cooperatives — to modify his status of employee. 
If he is to get justice as a worker there must be assured 
to him exactly the type of freedom that the producer 
seeks by means of the Producers' Cooperative. It 
must, however, be assured to him not as against the 
consumer's interest but in reconciliation with it, in 
due acknowledgment of the priority of the consumer's 
end. This aim can be attained by the organization 
of producers according to their different trades, crafts, 
vocations, or professions — i. e., as agricultural labourers, 
carpenters, machinists, transport-workers, physicians, 
teachers, bankers, and so on. These organizations 
would, in matters of their several technologies, of the 
conditions of production, be self-governed and autono- 
mous. They would be endowed with ownership of use 
in contrast to the ownership of usufruct, on the basis 
of their functions as producers. Every member of a 
producing cooperative would be an owner in the process 
of production, would be a member in a free coopera- 
tive company in which the less skilled would have a 
voice with the more skilled in the government of their in- 
dustry as an organization of productive activities. The 
various associations producing commodities or services 
would then be federated into a single society, constitut- 
ing a National Producers' Cooperative. 

Thus, each citizen of the land would enter twice into 



economic association with his fellows. Once, as con- 
sumer, with all his fellows; once as producer with the 
members only of his craft, industry, or profession. The 
duly-chosen administrative officers representing him as 
consumer together with the duly-chosen administra- 
tive officers representing him as producer would de- 
termine the economy of his country and adjust the 
conflict between his interests as consumer and as 
producer. These officers might be selected by two 
national assemblies chosen by the parties at interest — 
the consumers and the producers. They v/ould guard 
the standard of living, which is the main concern of 
the consumer, and the conditions and methods of pro- 
duction which are the main concern of the producer. 
They would reconcile the members of the community 
with one another and with their own selves at just 
the point where their conflict is the most basic, the most 
enduring, and the most disastrous in its effects. 


The similarity of this theory to that of the Guild 
Socialists comes at once to mind. Its difference, it 
was pointed out in course of the discussion among the 
Parushim, lies in the very important fact that it makes 
no reservations as to political government and weights 
the relative values of consuming and producing in- 
terests almost inversely. Guild Socialism is primarily 
interested in the organization of production; it acqui- 
esces in the form of political association already existing. 
Preoccupied with the application of a mediaeval system 
of producers' organization to modern industry, and 
regarding the problem with reference to the established 
institutions of the British community, its protagonists 


could not have come, perhaps, to any other conclusion. 
Although they have ignored, in the formation of their 
theory, the role and significance of the consumers' 
cooperatives in England, it is still true that the politico- 
economic situation is there too complex, too full of 
secondary factors, too shot through with vested inter- 
ests to make possible anything short of a violent transi- 
tion from the existing pattern of British organization 
to such an one as has been outlined above. In Palestine 
again, among the Arabs, such a change would be quite 
as impossible. For the barbarous nature of the Arab 
economy in Palestine and the retarded character of 
the fellah institutional culture preclude it, desirable 
as it is. A long process of education and cultivation 
must intervene. At present neither the Arab mind nor 
Arab society, with its tribal organization, its nomadic 
groups, its cult of taboos and prescriptions, could with- 
out the greatest difficulty adjust itself to such a change, 
to say nothing of undertaking it. 

The only people among whom it is possible, the argu- 
ment went on, are the Jews. To them it is not only 
possible, it is inevitable. It is inevitable, regardless 
of the theoretic validity or invalidity of the plan. 
For in its adoption and application, in the minimum 
form of the Pittsburgh Programme, lies their only 
chance of the swift, effective conversion of Palestine 
into a Jewish homeland. The reason is, that no matter 
what part of the western world they come from, the 
standard of living of the Jews is very many times 
higher than that of the fellah. They could never 
survive, as wage earners, in competition with the so- 
much-cheaper Arab labour. They would be com- 
pelled either to emigrate or to starve. The upshot 



would be that the greater part of agricultural Jewish 
Palestine would become a collection of manorial 
estates like Petach Tikwah, and the industrial Palestine 
to be created would be a Palestine of Jewish owners 
and Arab workers. The total Jewish development of 
Palestine would serve only to keep Jews out of Palestine. 
To keep them in, they must, hence, at the same time, 
become both workers and owners. If the whole soil 
of Palestine were already in private hands, the situation 
would become one of extreme difficulty. To change 
it would cost immense sums of money and perhaps 
bloodshed. But both the conceptions of land-tenure 
that underlay Turkish law and the actual state of 
ownership in Palestine give the public as against the 
private right a certain preeminence in prestige and 
actual dominion. Only 15 per cent, of Transjor- 
dania, 20 of Galilee, and 50 per cent, of Judea are 
actually held by the fellah. In the sanjak of Jeru- 
salem only some sixteen or seventeen thousand fami- 
lies of them make their living from agriculture, and on 
farms varying from eight to twelve acres in size. Of 
the balance of the land, a great proportion is in the 
hands of absentee landlords. Many of these acquired 
the mass of their holdings by means of fraudulent 
registrations under the law of Tabu formulated by 
the Porte in the early decades of the second half of the 
nineteenth century. This law created the same effects 
in Palestine as did the Enclosures in England. Public 
lands, commons, came into private hands. Workers 
suddenly found themselves transformed from owners 
to tenants, and innumerable fellah freeholders fell 
thereby first under the dominion of the Mohammedan 
landlord and then in the power of the Christian usurer. 


The remainder of the land is public land, actually 
in the possession of the Government. Exclusive of 
the territories of El Arish and Transjordania, this land 
amounts to about 300,000 acres. It is de facto the 
possession of the whole people. So, in a somewhat 
lesser degree, are the existing Jewish holdings in Pales- 
tine. The land owned by the National Fund is that 
by fundamental law. The land on which the pro- 
prietary colonists are settled can in the majority of 
cases not be held to be either legally or by use their 
own. Much of it is under mortgage either to Baron 
Rothschild or the Jewish Colonization Association, 
and those who live by its exploitation are not really 
freeholders at all. They are the beneficiaries of a 
public trust, philanthropic in character if you will, 
but public, and capable of hypothecation without 
improper hardship to the beneficiaries. Thus land in 
Palestine immediately available for Jewish settlement 
is already national or semi-national. 1 But its very 
nature would compel its conversion, if it were private. 
For it is not like land in other parts of the world on 
which pioneers have settled and at once found a living. 
To make it habitable requires an initial investment 
which is like investment in the structure, instruments, 
and tools of an industrial plant. It must be "re- 

1 News has recently come of the promulgation of a land transfer ordinance 
by the office of the High Commissioner. Under this ordinance all transac- 
tions other than leases of three years must be carried out through the land- 
registry, by the consent of the administration. Buyers or lessors must be 
residents of Palestine, the amount of their purchase is limited in area and 
price — about £3,000— and they must prove their intention immediately 
to undertake cultivation or development. It is to be observed that these 
provisions will prevent land speculation but will not encourage extensive or 
swift Jewish settlement. As, however, the High Commissioner is not bound 
to the law but can consent to land transactions without any restrictions 
if in his view they are for the public good, the prospects of Jewish settle- 
ment are scarcely altered by the law. 

"VITA NUOVA?" 315 

claimed" before it can be settled, and such a reclama- 
tion is beyond the powers of any one prospective settler. 
It is a charge upon the Jewry of the world, the returns 
on which it may take a generation to produce. A 
public charge of this kind cannot be carried except by 
a public administration, under public control. 

With respect to public utilities and natural resources, 
the situation is somewhat different. Transport facili- 
ties, bar those built during the Great War by the British 
army for war purposes, are either privately owned or 
heavily mortgaged and bear, like all the public works 
in the recent Turkish Empire, an interest and mainte- 
nance charge out of all proportion to their earning 
powers. There are no other public utilities to speak 
of. They will have to be created. The fundamental 
one, on which all others will necessarily depend, is a 
hydro-electric service from the utilization of the water- 
power in the drop of the Jordan. This is the foremost, 
wellnigh the only one of the natural resources of the 
land. Both transport and industry must wait upon 
making available this power, and whether and how it 
is to be provided is contingent upon political questions 
of doubtful issue. These are the questions of the 
northern boundary and of the mandate. The latter is 
the more important, for by its economic terms will be 
established whether the decision at San Remo may 
actually be converted from a formula into a fact. 
If the Jews of the world do through the Zionist Organ- 
ization in fact receive that priority in economic con- 
cessions on which alone the building of a Jewish Pales- 
tine can be hopefully postulated, they will have the 
opportunity to put into use the natural resources of 
Palestine and to develop the necessary public utilities 


under conditions of a public trust. Their claims as 
against possible competitors are allowable only on this 
basis, and neither the status of public utilities elsewhere 
in the world, particularly in England, nor the character 
of the problem permit of any other. 1 

Thus, in the very nature of the case, the land and 
other natural resources and the public utilities of a 
Jewish Palestine must come under public control and 
be developed for public use. A new, large, and swift 
settlement of self-supporting Jews does not seem to be 
possible under any other conditions. That such a 
socialization would meet with resistance from the 
vested Jewish interests already established in Palestine 
is of course a foregone conclusion. But it is equally 
foregone that such resistance could be broken down 
either by force or persuasion. There is a precedent 
for persuasion having the weight of religious authority. 
This precedent is to be found in the Book of Nehemiah, 
which portrays a situation not unlike the present one. 
Nehemiah is the Jewish High Commissioner from 
Persia, devout, loyal, competent. He finds the country- 
side a desert and the city a desolation. He finds the 
"restored' Jewish community in the homeland sur- 
rounded by intriguing, inimical neighbours 2 and divided 

1 Cf. Footnote p. 292 supra. 

2 Then there arose a great cry of the people and of their wives against 
their brethren the Jews. For there were that said, We, our sons and our 
daughters are many: let us get grain, that we may eat and live. Some also 
there were that said, We are mortgaging our fields, and our vineyards and 
our houses: let us get grain because of the dearth. There were also that 
said, We have borrowed money for the King's tribute upon our fields and 
vineyards. Yet now our flesh is as the flesh of our brethren, our children as 
their children: and lo, we bring into bondage our sons, and our daughters to 
be servants, and some of our daughters are brought into bondage already: 
neither is it in our power to help it, for other men have our fields and our 

And I was very angry when I heard their cry and these words. Then 
I consulted with myself and contended with the nobles and the rulers, and 

"VITA NUOVA?" 317 

into wealthy and exploiting land-owning and clerical 
classes on the one side, and oppressed, impoverished, 
and degraded masses on the other. 1 To guard against 
the neighbours all the workers are made to become 
soldiers as well. Against exploitation Nehemiah re- 
calls the labour and sacrifices of the Diaspora and 
invokes the piety and loyalty of the classes. He suc- 
ceeds. He also secures considerable contributions 
toward the rebuilding of the city from the "heads 
of fathers' houses," and finally he calls a public as- 
sembly, at which the Law is read by Ezra, translated 
to the people, and the keeping of it sworn, particularly 
of that portion of it dealing with land tenure and 
indebtedness. 2 

History, it may be inferred, still continues to repeat 
itself, though with a difference, a difference often so 
great as to turn repetition into mutation. In the 
case of the restoration of the Jewish homeland, the 
difference is very great, but it is not a mutation. 
The same essential conditions reappear: the same need 
of the masses, the same danger, the same spirit in the 

said unto them: Ye exact usury, every one of his brother. And I held a great 
assembly against them. And I said unto them, We after our abilities have 
redeemed our brethren the Jews, that were sold unto the nations: and would 
ye even sell your brethren, and should they be sold unto us? Then held 
they their peace and found never a word. Also I said, The thing that ye 
do is not good: ought ye not to walk in the fear of God, because of the re- 
proach of the nations our enemies? ... I pray you let us leave off this 
usury. Restore, I pray you, to them, even this day, their fields, their 
vineyards, their oliveyards and their houses, also the hundredth part of the 
grain, the new wine, and the oil that ye exact from them. Then said they: 
We will restore them and will require nothing of them. . . . Then I 
called the priests and took an oath of them, that they would do according 
to this promise. . . . And the people did according to this promise. 
(Nehemiah v, 1-12.) 

^As, on the record, the Arabs of to-day have been, and are likely to be, with 
alien help, for some time to come, unless tfeeir counsels are more surely guided 
than heretofore. 

2 Nehemiah, rx-x, 31. 


economic proposals to obviate the danger and to serve 
the need. There are no men of considerable wealth 
and land-ownership among the Jews of Palestine. 
They are prevailingly paupers, living on Halukah. 
Such as there are, however, might well be persuaded by 
the precedent recorded by Nehemiah, to convert their 
holdings into cooperative Jewish farms. The alterna- 
tive is for them to make alliance with the Arab ab- 
sentee landlords — in which case history would repeat 
itself, indeed — or to be crowded out automatically by 
the competition with the cooperative community. 


The rudiments of this community already exist. 
But it must not be supposed that they originated ex 
nihilo, as the fulfilment of a Utopian ideal and the 
carrying out of a "revolutionary' programme. They 
arose automatically out of the total situation in which 
the life and labour of the people of Palestine were 
involved, and the crux of the problem of the economic 
organization of contemporary Palestinian Jewry is 
to be found in the question as to whether they are 
capable of correction and guidance to the point of 
functioning as agencies for the economic assimilation 
of great units of immigrant Jews. 

Of these rudiments, the consumers' cooperative is 
the more recent, and by far the more successful. 
It goes by the name of Hamashbir, literally, the grain- 
purveyor. Organized in 1914, shortly after the begin- 
ning of the Great War, by the five hundred or so Jewish 
labourers in Petah Tikwah who found themselves 
threatened with starvation under the profiteering 
which the war occasioned, it succeeded with its limited 

"VITA NUOVA?' $19 

means not merely to reduce the cost of living materially 
but to undertake the manufacture of jams and to give 
employment to a few of its members. When, in 1917, 
the Palestine Commission arrived, it made Hamashbir 
a loan to enable it to extend its operations. These 
were not conducted according to the Rochdale plan 
of selling at the market-price and distributing the differ- 
ence between the market and the cost-price as a 
' profit ,: or dividend at the end of the year. Nor 
were purchases limited to the membership. The 
society sold at cost to everybody. So important 
were its services in the first year that its expansion 
was inevitable. In the three years following it was 
the purchaser of all the grain produced in the Jewish 
colonies, and established thus a relation between itself 
and the producers' cooperatives. So far, what it did, it 
did for labourers only. In 1918, however, the approach 
of the British army and the retreat of the Turks led 
to a kiting of prices in the approved style, and the 
workers in the Bezalel shops, the teachers and the 
other "white-collar" proletarians, clamoured for provi- 
sion through the agency of the society. The provision 
was promised and the country was scoured to add 
foodstuffs enough to meet their needs. But by the 
time this provision was secured, at exorbitant prices, 
the British had entered Palestine, bringing with them 
grains and other comestibles. Prices immediately 
fell. The " white-collar ' : people refused to buy the 
commodities that had been secured in their behalf. 
There was no way of holding them to their agreement, 
and thus the Cooperative Society found itself with 
the burden of — for it, a very large deficit — about £6,000 
(sterling). This deficit has been called, by the directors 


of the Anglo-Palestine Bank, a proof of the incom- 
petency of the managers of the society and of the 
society's impracticality, and has been made the basis 
for refusing it further credit. As against this refusal 
credit has been extended to a new cooperative society, 
recently formed for these same " white-collar ' :> classes, 
called Hamazmin — the importer. A class war between 
cooperatives has been initiated, not — it is impossible 
to believe — without malice. 

The ill-will of the Anglo-Palestine company's officials 
has, however, affected the activities of Hamashbir very 
little. It received credit from the "groups" or Cooper- 
ative Producers' Societies, who sold it all their produce. 
It established a connection with the English Coopera- 
tive Wholesale, which also gave it credit. It has sur- 
vived its crisis, and is again showing a profit that may 
enable it to meet its indebtedness. 

Nevertheless, the strictures of the officials of the 
Anglo-Palestine Company are deserved, simply from 
the point of view of cooperative technique and the 
future of the society. It continues to sell to every- 
body—workers, " white-collarer," shop-keeper who may 
be buying to resell, Jewish "colonist' 2 or Christian 
usurer. It undersells the ordinary shop-keeper, but 
it does not require the purchaser to be a member 
of the society. Of the seventy-five to one hundred 
thousand Jews in Palestine of whom five or six thousand 
are organized workmen, only about one thousand 
are shareholders. Being a shareholder gives no one 
any advantage over the rest of the population. This 
benefits simply at the expense of the shareholders and 
the profit-making competitors. It is being confirmed 
in its vicious habits of competitive purchase. To 

"VITA NUOVA?" 321 

function as an effective assimilating agent to consumer's 
cooperation Hamashbir must adopt the Rochdale 
plan. It must absorb Hamazmin. It must do every- 
thing in its power to make itself the national Coopera- 
tive Society, with every Jew in Palestine a member. 
It should at once place itself in the hands of the British 
Cooperative Wholesale Society for guidance and train- 
ing toward this end. It should, if it is wisely managed, 
be able to secure money to lease or buy new lands on 
which it may settle its own members as cooperative 
producers' groups, supply them with tools, machinery, 
cattle, instruction, and other necessaries, and produce, 
at least, most of the foodstuffs that its members con- 
sume. If it grows more powerful it should extend 
its operations to the arts, crafts, and industries, until 
as the National Consumers' Cooperative Society of 
Palestine it is the holder of all the land and of the 
natural resources and the owner of the tools and 
instruments of production in the land. 

In the holdings of the National Fund, in the actual 
processes of financing Palestinian undertakings, the 
beginnings already exist. By squeezing the philan- 
thropy out of them, by making their beneficiaries 
responsible for them through the obligation and 
necessity of supplying their own needs — i. e., by making 
their cost a charge against the Jews of Palestine or- 
ganized as consumers, these beginnings can be developed 
into agencies of economic self-support and moral 
freedom for the inhabitants of the Jewish homeland. 

For in relation to production also, the beginnings 
exist and are not unfavourable. Of the five or six 
thousand workers who make up the membership of the 
Ahduth Avodah or Labour Union of Jewish Palestine 


more than half are agricultural labourers — composing 
the Agricultural Labourers' Union. Of these from 
one half to one third are settled upon public land in 
Kwuzoth or cooperative communities. It is these com- 
munities which in its dark hour sold their produce 
to Hamashbir on credit, sold it in spite of the higher 
rate they might have received from other purchasers 
and their great need of this higher price. Now these 
communities — there are about twenty-two of them 
— are far from self-supporting. They are composed 
almost exclusively of physically weak, agriculturally 
untrained men and women, European intellectuals 
all, who have undertaken pioneership out of love of 
Zion. They have been settled by the Palastina Amt 
or other agencies on such land as was available, without 
regard to either sanitary conditions or the essentials 
of housing and labour. They are unskilled, and no 
competent training, no foremanship has been supplied 
them. Once in a long time an expert-by-book would 
visit them and give them a lecture, but the develop- 
ment of manual skill and practical competency by 
example was not attempted, because there was nobody 
in officialdom able to attempt it. 1 Nevertheless, 
ignorant, untrained, regularly losing from 50 to 25 
per cent, of their working time through malaria, they 
held on. They had obligated themselves to the Jewish 
National Fund, the Jewish Colonization Association, 
or the Ahuzoth (Land Acquisition Societies) for the 
cost of buildings, of equipment, and often of food. 

: The significance of this fact may be noted in the story of the sudden suc- 
cess of the bee industry in the Jewish colonies. Attempts made at various 
times prior to the appearance of a practical bee-keeper — Livshitz of the 
Mikweh Israel school — failed. The latter within a yeur taught the colonies 
to produce honey at a profit. 

"VITA NUOVA?" 323 

The obligations were to be paid out of their earnings, 
but, as they themselves sardonically declared, all that 
they earned — all that they could earn — was a deficit. 
The life organized for them and by them has been a 
compromise between an ideology and a condition. As 
they possessed neither the materials nor the technology 
to master the condition, they found escape in their 
ideology and in the free play it could get in the politics 
of Jewish life in Palestine. If their communities are 
not "culturally" Arabized as are the "colonial" settle- 
ments, they are economically Arabized, in that the 
standard of living has been degraded and the tech- 
nological morale, wherever it developed, as in Mer- 
chavia, destroyed. 

Nevertheless, they represent the basic type of 
agricultural organization on which alone the building 
of a Jewish Palestine can be successfully accomplished. 
Given competent foremanship, instruction aiming at 
manual skill, and practical agricultural judgment in- 
stead of theoretical botanical knowledge; given proper 
sanitation and modern tools, the urge which took these 
young people to Palestine and holds them there can 
be turned into a technological channel where now it 
runs in merely a political one. The point of depart- 
ure for their cooperative organization can then become 
the problem involved in their work, and the free 
ordering of their lives can at last take its direction from 
this common base. As members of the Consumers' 
Cooperative, they will, in their producers' association, 
be working equally for themselves and their fellows. 
They will be responsible to their peers, not to their 
alien and superior benefactors. The whole basis of 
their incentives will be shifted, and will become more 


pertinent to the inward interests and the actual course 
and condition of their daily lives. 

The same thing is true in a lesser degree of the other 
crafts and industries represented in the Ahduth Avodah. 
There are two cooperative societies of printers and of 
carpenters, one of bakers, one of shoemakers, one of 
machinists. The iron workers, and of course the rail- 
road workers, are not in a position to labour coopera- 
tively, and of the bakers, the majority are "hands," 
not partners in the enterprise. Their membership 
in Hamashbir, the acquisition by Hamashbir of the 
private bakershops and printeries and carpenteries 
and machine shops and such, are easy steps, pre- 
requisite to the reorganization of the practitioners of 
these crafts into self-governing producers' units, each 
embracing all the levels and stages of the industries 
and including an adequate system of apprenticeship 
and industrial education. The step toward the conver- 
sion of the railroads into a cooperative producers'- 
consumers' enterprise is a more complicated and diffi- 
cult one. Imperialistic foreign investment is involved 
and the Jewish employees are in very small minority. 
The first move must be toward the representation of 
the workers in the existing management, and the focal- 
ization of their interest upon the problems of manage- 

For the rest, Ahduth Avodah itself constitutes the 
beginning of the national producers' organization. 
Its constituent units are the associations, unions, 
"groups' 1 of the various craftsmen and workers at 
present composing the organized section of the labour 
or producers' interest of the Jewish homeland. But 
both in its form and in its objective Ahduth Avodah is 

"VITA NUOVA?" 325 

preoccupied not with self-government in industry, 
not with effecting coordination, economy, and com- 
petency in the business of production, but with the 
class war which is the interest of mere trades unionism, 
with the beneficiary institutions of such unionism — 
i. e., Ahduth Avodah maintains a sick fund, an employ- 
ment bureau, a bureau of information, a kitchen, 
and a sanatorium (not, of course, at its own expense 
merely) — and most of all with the political manoeuvring 
which is so much a filling, like cards for the idle, of the 
otherwise empty lives in Palestine. The Union has been 
made to reflect the political and ideological differences 
of the Jewish Socialist parties in the Diaspora, and like 
all Jewish organizations has been inclined to lay more 
stress on ideology than on the problems of the daily 
life. Recently it has shown signs of waking up to 
the realities of the situation. If it become thoroughly 
awake, it will at once devote itself to the expansion 
of Hamashbir and the inclusion of all the Jewish in- 
habitants of Palestine, whether otherwise cooperators 
or not, in workers' or producers' associations that 
shall then become members of the Ahduth Avodah. 
The teachers are already organized, and in terms of 
the American Zionist Medical Unit, the physicians 
and sanitarians are organized. They should be in- 
cluded in Ahduth Avodah. So should all other profes- 
sions, crafts, industries that supply commodities or 
services for the inhabitants of the Jewish homeland. 
Their mutual relations should be thoroughly analyzed 
and defined, and a programme of common action 
looking ultimately toward a commonwealth based on 
primarily economic and functional relationships should 
be worked out and undertaken. The proximate end in 


view should be to create a set of institutions that will 
be ready to replace the mandatory in full responsibil- 
ity for the life of the commonwealth. Perhaps the 
central item in such a programme, if the implications 
of the present organization are acknowledged to their 
logical limit, is education. 


Now there exists a certain traditional eulogium 
regarding the Jewish interest in and aptitude for educa- 
tion. This eulogium is misleading, for the reason 
that successful education is never education in a 
vacuum. Teaching and learning are always the teach- 
ing and learning of some particular thing, at a given 
time and in a given place and under given circumstances. 
The significance and value of what is taught and what 
is learned are determined by its relevance to the life 
that it is supposed to liberate and to guide at the 
time and in the place and under the circumstances. 
The education on which the Jewish "love of learning' : 
is postulated has been irrelevant, other-worldly, specula- 
tive, and verbal. It has had little regard for the 
realities of things, and much for typical compensations- 
in-idea for the unsatisfactoriness of those realities. 
It has been an education in fantasy and dream. This 
has been almost as true of the modern Yiddish and 
neo-Hebrew developments — vide Ahad Ha'amism — 
as of the older Talmudical ones. In Palestine it has 
been notorious. The whole so-called "modern" system 
of education there is education by book. The teachers 
are mostly untrained in pedagogical technique, neo- 
Hebraists who are teachers by virtue of their devotion 
to Hebrew rather than by virtue of their professional 



competency. Associated into a union, they share with 
the community and the Zionists the responsibility for 
the organization and the effectiveness of instruction. 
The agency of this responsibility is the Vaad Hachinuch, 
composed of three representatives of each of the three 
parties at interest. But the Vaad has established no 
effective coordination and exercises no competent 
control. It has no system of records, no adequate 
supervision. Principals and teachers do much as 
they please, without regard to professional standards 
of effectiveness and improvement. Vocational educa- 
tion there is none whatsoever. Instruction is ex- 
clusively by book and by word. Its victims are 
taught Hebrew but not the conditions of labour and 
the practice of life according to the requirements 
of Palestine. They are taught in places which are 
sanitary abominations, and with materials almost 
barbarous in their inadequacy. Nevertheless, the 
cost of instruction, in the light of the returns on it, is 
extraordinarily high, and is paid for almost wholly 
by contributions from America. The Palestinian 
community shirks the responsibility: of the £100,000 
or so spent in 1919 on education, Palestinians contrib- 
uted only £8,000. Adult education, barring instruc- 
tion in Hebrew secured at their own cost by voluntary 
classes, is practically non-existent. 

Clearly, for a pioneer country like Palestine, where 
relevant knowledge is of the uttermost importance, 
these conditions are criminal. Public education will 
have to take as its point of departure the conditions 
and necessities of life in Palestine, not irrelevant 
cultural conceptions generated outside of Palestine. 
It will have to move from work to vision, in terms of 


the actual economic enterprises undertaken and de- 
veloped in Palestine and of the forms of free human 
organization these indicate or require. Thus — to 
take topics of instruction mostly absent from the 
Palestinian curriculum — geography must be taught 
as an actual outgrowth of the topography of the scene 
of the daily life, and not as a remote thing in a book; 
zoology must be made to derive from animal life on 
the farm; botany, similarly from the vegetable life, 
or from the problems of the carpenter's shop. Particu- 
larly must the so-called social sciences — economics, 
sociology, history, social psychology — spring directly 
from the actual processes of want and work as want is 
expressed and work is organized and undertaken at 
home, and as it is known to be undertaken abroad. 
Instruction, which is now the inculcation of doctrine, 
must become the creation of practice, and the deriva- 
tion of doctrine from practice. 1 To accomplish this 
will require the importation, for the young, of a large 
number of teachers, preferably from the United States, 
who can teach the use of the hands as against those 
that teach the use of the tongue. It will require, 
for adults, the provision of competent foremen and 
of higher officers of management who will know how 
to make of every farm and factory a school that will 
reveal the interlinking of the specific operation on the 
spot with the present life, the past history, and the 
future destiny of men the world over. And this will 
need to be done as quickly as possible at a charge upon 
the economic unit involved, not upon the charity of 
the Diaspora. 

Education, in a word, must become an integral part, 

l Cf. Dewey: "Democracy and Education." 

4 VITA NUOVA?" 329 

expressly provided for, of every enterprise undertaken 
in Palestine. The remaking of the mind of the present 
population, the reconstruction of the population to 
come, must not be left to the decision of events, to 
chance, or to circumstance. The growth of the com- 
monwealth, no less than the growth of its children, 
must be consciously directed. Its institutions must 
be realizations of its ideals, not contradictions of them; 
its ideals must be expressions of its institutions, not 
compensations for them. Broadly speaking, hence, the 
educational system must be made coincident with the 
whole community. Not merely in the official schools, 
but in each enterprise of agriculture and of industry 
men and women must be taught the art of self- 
government and of specific technological responsibility 
through self-government. 

For the young, moreover, who are at school, an 
opportunity for public service should be provided. 
It should be provided because what would otherwise 
be the cost of this service could be used in maintaining 
the compulsory school age up to the age of nineteen 
or twenty. It should be provided, also, because it is 
the surest guarantee of the survival of a democratic 
spirit and the maintenance of a democratic morale. 
Much of the misunderstanding between classes of 
society, not merely between rich and poor, but between 
carpenters and machinists, bricklayers and plumbers, 
farmers and industrialists, physicians and mechanics, 
is due to their failure imaginatively to realize each others' 
lives. This failure comes from the absence of common 
fundamental experience in the business of living. A 
man who has never actually spread dung in a wheat- 
field, cleared out an irrigation ditch, run a lathe, or 


mended a road can never get the outlook of one whose 
life consists in doing just that and nothing more. 
There are, undoubtedly, in every population, a propor- 
tion of persons whose abilities extend to nothing more. 
And it is recognized that there are also a far greater 
proportion known as "the average man" who can live 
and work on a richer and more varied level, but who 
do not get the opportunity. It is agreed, moreover, 
that no educational system is competent which does 
not supply the maximum of opportunity, and what has 
been suggested should, if properly undertaken, accom- 
plish just that. But it still remains inexorably a fact 
that every community rests upon certain basic activities 
— the so-called "dirty work' : of civilized society — ■ 
which are the foundations and occasions of the more 
specialized activities of the different crafts, trades, 
industries, and professions, whatever be their nature. 
In this "dirty work," hence, every citizen should have 
a share: in building roads, digging irrigation ditches, 
tending fields or orchards, running machines, and so 
on. The time for this work is during the school age — 
in the vacations of the period from the fourteenth 
to the twentieth year. After schooldays, whatever en- 
terprise or profession is desirable or fit: during school- 
days, participation in the indispensable basic activities 
of the community. 

Education would thus be made to play its inevitable 
role to the advantage and not the obstruction of the 
development of the Jewish homeland. Take care of 
education, says Plato, and education will take care of 
everything else. Whatever the climate, the condition 
of the land, the nature and extent of the natural re- 
sources, the social traditions and individual character 



of the people, whatever their present interests and 
future aspirations may be and imply, the one force 
which will count more than any other toward the altera- 
tion or perfection of these is education. In the end 
the success or failure of the New Zion will be attrib- 
utable to the quality, extent, direction, and competency 
of its educational system. 


In the end. . . . 

In the end, clearly. But not more so than in the 
beginning. The beginning is, however, modified by 
other considerations, most of which have been 
enumerated and studied. There remains one to con- 
sider in conclusion, which is of primary importance. 
This is the will and attitude of the sources of capital. 
For assuming even the best will on the part of the au- 
thorities and the Jews of Palestine toward the attain- 
ment of the type of community here indicated, the very 
great sums that the initial investment in such an enter- 
prise will require make the whole matter ultimately 
dependent on the sources of capital. These sources 
will of necessity be found outside the Zionist organiza- 
tion, among the Jews — particularly the great and rich 
Jews — of the world. How they envisage their relation 
to Palestine, what they mean to do and to refrain 
from doing becomes the central fact of the Diaspora 
upon which the reorganization of the Zionist move- 
ment itself must turn. The indications are that their 
attitude is positive and responsible, conspicuously in 
England and in the United States. In England an 
Economic Council has been forming, under the leader 
ship of Sir Alfred Mond and Major James de Roths- 


child, and in the United States the Conference of 
American Rabbis have adopted resolutions declaring 
that however much they differ from the Zionists in 
theory, they are desirous to join hands with them in 
the upbuilding of Palestine. Where Zionism was felt 
as a challenge and a defiance, Palestine is felt as a 
task and a responsibility. There appears no sufficient 
reason to doubt that the non-Zionist Jews accept and 
will carry the task. 

But how, and on what conditions? The usual in- 
centives to investment are lacking in the case of 
Palestine. Even the interest on a government loan, 
should one be called for, would need to be somewhat 
below the market, if the Jews only were to take it, 
as an earnest of good faith. Many of the enterprises 
to be undertaken in Palestine will earn no income what- 
soever in the beginning, and only a small one in the 
course of time. A sense of religious duty, of social 
responsibility, these far more than the desire for profit, 
may be said to have moved non-Zionists to offer 
service and aid. The same motive will move them 
to investment in the upbuilding of a Jewish Palestine. 
But also, and perhaps largely, the desire to mitigate 
the home problems that arise out of immigration will 
move them: Palestine is nearer to central Europe 
than America or Australia and the establishment of the 
immigrant there is far less costly. Interest in particular 
modes of development will move them. But not 
profits as profits. For an undertaking in Palestine 
initiated merely by the hope of gain can mean only 
what concessionary enterprises mean in any undevel- 
oped country — the sweating of labour at starvation 
wages, the skimping of power and the waste of material, 

"VITA NUOVA?" 333 

the multiplication of charges. Such undertakings 
can only serve, as has already been observed, to drive 
the Jews from Palestine, not to implant them there. 
Investments in Palestinian enterprises will necessarily 
serve a public end far more than a private motive. 
Investors will need to be glad, if, in the course of time, 
their money comes back to them, and if it does not 
come back to them, but has actually served to make 
numbers of their tragic brethren from central Europe 
permanently at home in Palestine, they will not need 
to be without rejoicing. 

Aiming at no profits in the sense in which investors 
in other fields aim at profits, they will not tolerate the 
risks which are undertaken in the hope of profit. 
They will wish their money to be used with all the 
economy, speed, and efficiency possible; i. e., they will 
wish the greatest possible number of Jews implanted 
and self-supporting upon Palestinian soil in the shortest 
possible time. They will resent the waste that comes 
through the reduplication of effort, through haste, 
through carelessness, through incoordination, through ir- 
responsibility , incompetence, untrustworthiness, through 
any of the conditions that have hitherto prevailed under 
the East-European Zionist administration in Palestine. 
The very nature of their objective rules out as dangerous 
and undesirable the initiation of a collection of diverse 
projects, each going on its own. The primary want, 
hence, is for a coordinating central agency, which 
shall specify, analyze, and establish priorities in the 
economic needs in Palestine, and shall take the initia- 
tive in creating the industrial and financial instruments 
to serve their needs. It is an agency, that is, which 
would function like the American War Industries 


Board during the Great War. Its organization, how- 
ever, would need to be determined by the conditions 
out of which it arises and the interests it serves. It 
would have to be called together, obviously, by the 
Zionists, who alone are prepared to assume the already 
long-delayed initiative. They might designate the 
Economic Council or some other body to undertake 
to secure the financing of a company to develop, for 
example, hydro-electric operations involving water- 
power, water-supply, drainage, and irrigation, and a 
company to create the building industry, from quarry- 
ing to construction, in the form of a guild like those 
now in operation in Manchester and London. Each 
company, as it is formed, would automatically send a 
representative chosen by the investors to the coordinat- 
ing agency. If, in addition, it is provided that the 
people of Palestine as "producers and as consumers 
are also represented on this board, then the whole of 
Jewry would be adequately represented, and repre- 
sented in their groupings as the parties at interest. The 
Zionists and the Jews in general would be represented 
by the agencies designated to take the initiative: the 
investors by their chosen representatives; the Jews 
of Palestine by election from Hamashbir and from 
Ahduth Avodah whose expansion to the point of 
embracing the total Jewish population of Palestine 
would be automatically secured by the assignment 
to them of this electoral responsibility. The coordinat- 
ing agency thus standing for all Jewry would be a 
trustee for all Jewry in the development of Jewish 
Palestine. It might establish its trusteeship by hold- 
ing Founders' Shares analogous to those of the Jewish 
Colonial Trust or by more effective or convenient 



devices. Its charter should require it to devise and 
provide ways by which, in the fulness of time, the 
ownership of its enterprises shall pass to the Jews of 
Palestine organized as a National Consumers' Coopera- 
tive Association and the management of each pass to 
its working force organized as the Producers' Coopera- 
tive Society of the whole industry. 

The steps which lead to this culmination involve 
a type of financial arrangement and industrial organiza- 
tion for which there is no merely "business" precedent. 
But neither is there a precedent for the problem these 
are designed to solve. The matter of importance is 
that there does exist among the Jews of the world the 
will to solve the problem, but not the realization of the 
inexorable terms and conditions of its solution. These, 
and the methods by which alone they may be met 
and mastered, have been indicated in the Pittsburgh 
Programme and the studies that underly it. The 
New Life of the Jewish people in the New Zion will 
either attain the forms designated or remain a com- 
pensatory ideal. 




Abdul Hamid, 83, 106, 110. 

Abraham, 23. 

Actions Committee, 79. 

Adams, John, 42, 56. 

Ahad Ha'am, 76, 89-97, 105, 118. 

Ahduth Avodah, 321, 324, 325, 334. 

Alroy, David, 14. 

Ahuzoth, 322. 

Alexander II, 68. 

Alexander, David, 168. 

Allenby, General, 252, 258, 278. 

Alliance Israelite Universelle, 49, 56, 
70, 107, 116, 177, 189, 247. 

Alp, Tekin, 114. 

" Altneuland," Herzl's, 77. 

"Americanization," of Jewish immi- 
grants, 126; influence of, on Jewish 
community organization, 142. 

American Jewish Commission to 
Peace Conference, 180; attitude on 
"national rights," 184. 

American Jewish Committee, 141; 
attitude toward American Jewish 
Congress, 113; attitude toward 
Balfour declaration, 172, 177. 

American Jewish Congress proposed, 
142; attitude of Zionists toward, 
143; of American Jewish Com- 
mittee toward, 143; of "labour 
leaders" toward, 145; of American 
Jewry toward, 145; negotiations 
over, 146; call for, 147; held, 177. 

American Jewish Relief Committee, 

American Rabbis, Conference of, 

American Zionist Medical Unit, 172, 
255, 325. 

Amos, 8. 

Anglo-Jewish Association, 247. 

Anglo-Palestine Company, 107. 

Anti-semitism, Herzl on, 73; in Tsar- 
ist Russia, 83; in Soviet Russia, 
211; in Poland, 219; in Ukrainia, 

244 seq.', in Hungary, 229 seq.; 
in other European countries, 235; 
in the United States, a class 
attitude, 242; among British 
officers in Palestine, 252. 

Annual Conference of 1920, 281, 
note seq. 

Annual Report of Zionist Organiza- 
tion of America, 282 note. 

Arabs, political work on by British, 
162; attitude toward Zionism, 189; 
grown unity of feeling among, 
249; British and French policy 
toward, 251; Tripolitan, on Turk- 
ish treaty, 257; historic relations 
with Jews, 291; cooperation with 
Jews desirable, 294; economic 
status in Palestine, 300; impossi- 
bility of cooperative economy 
among, 312. 

Arab Club, The, 256. 

Arab villages in Palestine, attitude 
of, toward Zionism, 259. 

Assimilation, 68. 

Atrocities, on Jews in eastern 
Europe, 142. 

Automatic machine, effect of, on 
Palestinian economy, 298. 

"Awakened Magyars," 230. 

Bagdad Railroad, 159. 

Baksheesh, 98, 105, 110. 

Balfour, A. J., 166, 268, 272, 300. 

Balfour Declaration, 169 seq.; effect 
on Turks and Germans, 170, 171; 
on Jews, 171 seq.; in Palestine, 
173; at the Peace Conference, 
189 seq.; as a gospel of religious 
hope, 246; later attitude of Board 
of Deputies toward, 247; in Near 
Eastern politics, 248; sabotaged 
by military in Palestine, 252; op- 
posed by missionary interest, 252; 

, reaffirmed by Curzon, 253; en- 




dangered by imperialist policies, 
256-259; realization demanded in 
England, 260; resolution of British 
labour on, 260; incorporated in 
Turkish Treaty, 262, 275; French 
and British pledge to Arabs, 289. 

Basle Platform, adopted at first 
Congress, 74; adopted by fraternal 
organizations in United States, 

Beaconsfield, 14, 50, 56. 

Belkind, Israel, 101. 

Bergson, 59. 

Bezalel Art School, 108. 

"Bill of Rights," Jewish, 178 seq.; 
basis of memorandum to Peace 
Conference, 184. 

Billikopf, Jacob, 151. 

Bols, Gen., 252. 

Bolshevism, 204 ; a n t i - Semitism 
under, 211. 

Brailsford, H. N., 158. 

Brandeis, Louis Dembitz, 133, 135, 
136, 138, 139, 145, 166, 256, 281, 
note seq., 301. 

Brest-Litovsk, Treaty of, effect on 
Jews, 172; on the Ukraine, 223. 

British Palestine Committee, 165. 

Bund, The, 219. 

Bussche, Baron von dem, 170. 

Capitalism, Character of, 202. 

Caste War, between "German" and 
"Russian" Jews in U. S., 217. 

Cecil, Lord Robert, 260. 

Chasdai ibn Shaprut, 14. 

Christianism, 20; and citizenship, 
21; and infallibility, 22. 

Chmelnicki, 28. 

Citizenship: effect of religious im- 
perialism on, 21; Jews deprived of, 
22; and church membership, 31; 
Jews admitted to in England, 34; 
in France, 35. 

Clemenceau, G., 198, 206. 

Committee of Jewish Delegations to 
the Peace Conference, 181; dispute 
with representatives of Joint 
Foreign Committee and Alliance 
Israelite Universelle, 182; activities 
after Paris Conference, 247. 

Committee of Union and Progress, 

Compensatory habit of mind, Jewish 
regarding Palestine, 282 seq. 

Cremieux, Adolphe, 57. 

Cromwell, 30. 

Congressus Judaicus, 27-30. 

Conjoint Committee, 167; anti- 
Zionist letter to London Times, 

Constituent Assembly, Jewish, in 
Palestine, 255. 

Consumers' Cooperation, 308. 

Consumption, Economics of, 303 

Council of Four, Psychology of, 206; 
attitude toward Turks, 250. 

"Cultural Centre," 76 seq. 

Curzon, Lord, 253. 

"Defeatism," 161; effect of on the 
attitude of the Allies toward 
Zionism, 163. 

De Haas, Jacob, 136. 

De Lieme, Nehemiah, 281, note. 

Dembitz, Louis, 134. 

Democracy, political, in Europe, 
198 seq.; and in America, 199; 
economic basis of, 199; modified 
by industrialism, 200; basis of 
financial imperialism, 202; ideol- 
ogy of, at the Peace Conference, 
206, 212. 

Denikine, 209, 224, 225. 

Deuteronomy, 297, 298. 

Diamanstein, 245. 

Diderot, 34. 

Djemal Pasha, 166, 173. 

Dmowski, 217, 220. 

Dumas fits, 50. 

Dunant, Henri, 49. 

Economic Council, proposed for 

Palestine, 331. 
"Economic Man," the, 54. 
Education, Jewish, in Palestine, 320; 

necessary reorganization of, 327. 
Einstein, Albe'rt, 283, note. 
Eliot, George, 50. 
Enfranchisement of Jews, in France, 

35; in England, 35; in western 

Europe, 37. 
Epic, The Augustinian, 22. 
Eschatology, 23. 
Exilarchate, 27. 



Extraordinary Zionist Conference, 
135, 143. 

Federation of American Zionists, 153. 
Fellah, The, in Palestine, 294, 298. 
Feisal, Emir, 168, 194. 195, 251, 25G, 

257, 268, 261, 262, 294. 
Financial Imperialism, democracy a 

basis of, 202. 
First Zionist Congress, 74. 
Ford, Henry, 236. 
Feudal Order, The, 25 seq. 
Fichte, 39. 
Fineman, H., 90. 
Fourteen Points, The, 249, 286. 
Frankfurter, Felix, 136, 194. 
French Revolution, The, ideals of, 

and nationalism, 38, 39; effect of 

on Jews, 52. 
Friedman, Elisha, 205 note. 

Galatovski, 30. 
George, Lloyd, 197, 206. 
Goedsche, Hermann, 235. 
Gottheil, Richard, 131. 
Grabski, 220. 
Grand Island, 41. 
Graetz, 63. 
Guild Socialism, 311. 

Haggai, 12. 

Halukah, 94, 97, 318. 

Halutzim, 3, 246. 

Hamashbir, 318 seq. 

Hamazmin, 320. 

Haskalah, 67, seq.', 99. 

Hashomer, 91. 

Hebrew, lingua franca of the Jews, 
68; revival of in Palestine, 99; 
symbol of Jewish solidarity, 116; 
struggle for, in Palestinian schools, 
117; to be an official language of 
Palestine, 190; use of sabotaged 
by British officials, 253. 

Hebrew University, 120, 174. 

Hegel, 48, 278. 

Herod, 13. 

Herzl, Theodore, 75, 105, 107, 136. 

Hess, Moses, 58, 70, 71. 

Hilfsvereinderdeutschen Juden, 117. 

Hollingsworth, 49. 

Holy Alliance, The, 44. 

Holyoake, Geo. Jacob, 308, note. 

Hoover, Herbert, 216. 

Horthy, Admiral, 236. 

Hovevei Zion, 71, 72, 77, 82, 107. 

Hungary, industry in, 226; "west- 
ern" movement in, 226; position 
of Jews in, 227; attitude of Su- 
preme Council toward, 227; com- 
munism in, 228; White Terror in, 
230; French treaty with, 230; 
stand of labour toward, 231. 

Husein, Shereef, 162. 

Hyamson, A. M., 40, note. 

Imperialism, Religious, 18; compared 
with ancient religious life, 18, 19; 
and political imperialism, 20; 
Roman, 20; relation to theological 
infallibility, 20, 21; effect of, on 
citizenship, 21; economic, 158; fi- 
nancial, 202; and democracy, 202. 

Industry, Economy of, modifies 
democracy, 200 seq.; influence of, 
on Russia, 208; on the United 
States, 213; on Poland, 219; on 
Hungary, 226; importance for the 
development of Jewish Palestine, 
289; influence on the structure of 
society, 299. 

Infallibility, Theological, 20, 21. 

Inner Actions Committee, 79. 

Inquisition, The, 24. 

International Palestine Society, 49. 

International Peace, Prophetic Con- 
ception of, 11, 12. 

"Internationale," The, 55. 

Investment in Palestine, probable 
character of, 332; organization of, 

Isaiah, 8; quoted, 10, 11. 

Islam, preached as a race, 250. 

Israel, 8. 

Israel, Mennasah ben, 30. 

Jabotinsky, V., 165, 171, 258, 259, 
281, note. 

Jehovah, 8, 9. 

Jeremiah, 8. 

Jewish communities, in seventeenth- 
century Poland, 27-30; and the 
Catholic Church in Poland, 29-30. 

Jewish Colonial Trust, 80, 207, 279. 

Jewish Colonization Association, 
102, 103, 107, 314, 322. 


Jewish Defense Company, organized 
in Palestine, 258. 

Jewish National Fund, The, 81, 108, 
279, 322. 

Jewish Territorial Organization, 84. 

Jews, status in antiquity, 18; in the 
Roman Empire, 20; in Christian 
doctrine, 23; in mediaeval Europe, 
24; admitted to England by Crom- 
well, 30; enfranchised in England, 
35; enfranchised in France, 35; 
under Napoleon, 41; in the United 
States of 1825, 41; as a religious 
people, 66; effect of partition of 
Poland on, 67; status in pre- 
Zionist Palestine, 93; supreme 
victims of the Great War, 150; 
after the war in Poland, 219; in 
Ukrainia, 224, 225; in Hungary, 
227 seq.; in Rumania, 232 seq.; 
inner life in central and eastern 
Europe, 244; treatment of, by 
Jewish Socialists there, 245; Bol- 
shevist treatment of, 246; effect of 
treaty of San Remo on, 268-276; 
unprepared to meet Palestinian 
problem, 275; historic relations 
with Arabs, 291; cooperation with 
Arabs desirable, 294; dependent on 
Pittsburgh Programme for sur- 
vival in Palestine, 312. 

Job, Book of, 9. 

Joshua, 296. 

Joseph, Archduke, 236. 

Judaism, Reform Movement in, 35; 
compared with Christianism, 36, 

Judenitch, 209. 

Judenstaat, Herzl's, 73. 

Kabbala and Kabbalism, 16, 26. 
Kahal, 65. 

Kalischer, Rabbi Hirsch, 70, 94. 
Kallen, H. M., 206, note; 309, note. 
Kattowitz Conference, The, 96. 
Keren Hayesod, The, 281 note, seq. 
Keynes, Maynard, 197, 206. 
Khalifate, The, as a Near-Eastern 

problem, 250; attitude of Moslems 

of India toward, 257. 
Kjamil Pasha, 250. 
Kuchzarewski, 220. 
Kun, Bcla, 228, 229. 

Kolchak, 209. 
Kwuzoth, 255, 322. 

Labour Leaders, in American Jewish 
politics, 145. 

Labour Party, British, on the Bal- 
four Declaration, 287; need of 
Zionist harmony with, 290. 

Laharame, 49. 

Land tenure, in Palestine, 313. 

Lasalle, F., 55, 56. 

Lawrence, Col. T. E., 162, 251. 

League of Nations, The, 175, 180, 
187, 188, 190, 286, 292, 294. 

Lebanon Committee, The, 257. 

Lecky, W. H., 263, note; quoted on 
status of Jews in Europe, 265 seq. 

Lenine, 211. 

Levi Bing, Lazar, 56. 

Levi, Sylvain, 189. 

Levin, Dr. Schmarja, 118, 135. 

Leviticus, 297, 298. 

Livshitz, 322. 

London Daily Hera Id, The, 288, note. 

Maccabseus, Judas, 13. 

Mack, Julian W., 136, 155, 178, 180, 

Machinery, Consequences from the 
the use of, 53. 

MacMahon, Sir Henry, 163. 

Makover, A. B., 42, note. 

Mandate, article on, in Covenant of 
the League of Nations, 190; terms 
of for Palestine, as formulated by 
Zionists, 192 seq.; draft of, for 
Palestine, 292, note; common in- 
terest of Jews and Arabs in, 293. 

Manchester Guardian, The, 165, 236. 

Marshall, Louis, 141, 172, 180, 183, 

Marx, Karl, 53, 56, 58. 
Masaryk, Prof., 217. 
Mazzini, G., 46, 48, 59. 
Mendelsohn, Moses, 67. 
Merchaviah, 108. 
"Men, Money, Discipline," 139. 
Messiah, The, 14, 15. 
Meyer, Eugene, 136. 
Mikweh Israel Agricultural School, 

101, 322, note. 
Millon, The, 100. 



Mirandola, Y'ico della, 26. 
Missionary interest in Palestine, 252; 

opposed to Balfour Declaration, 

Mitteleuropa, 115, 159. 
Mizrachi, 86 seq. 
Mond, Sir Alfred, 331. 
"Monroe Doctrine," Zionist, 283, 

Montefiore, Claude, 168. 
Montefiore, Sir Moses, 94. 
Montesquieu, 34. 
Morgenthau, Henry, 221. 
Moses, of Crete, 14. 
M©ssinsohn, Dr., 283, note. 
Moza, 94. 
Motzkin, Leon, 184. 

Nagidate, The, 27. 

Napoleon, 41. 

National minorities, problem of, how 
met at Peace Conference, 185-188. 

Nationalism, Religious, 33; Mazzinis' 
view of, 47; applied to Jews, 48 
seq.; effect on Jews, 52. 

Nationalist Party, Arab, 256. 

Nationality, and natural rights, 44 
seq.; growth of, in Europe, 45. 

"National Rights," at Peace Con- 
ference, 184 seq. 

"Natural Man," The, 32. 

"Natural Right," 32. 

Nehemiah, 316; quoted, 316, note. 

Netter, Charles, 57, 101. 

Nilus, Serge, 236. 

Nitti, 209. 

Noah, M. M., 41, 48. 

Nordau, Max, 75. 

Numbers, Book of, 296. 

O'Brien, C, 308, note. 

Occupied Enemy Territory Adminis- 
tration in Palestine, 252 seq.; how 
recruited, 253; anti-Semitism in, 

"Odessa Committee," 72, 96, 102. 

Oldenburg, 30, 31. 

Oliphant, Lawrence, 49. 

Oppenheimer, Franz, 100, 275, note. 

Ormsby-Gore, Major, 174, 251. 

Oettinger, 275, note. 

Paderewski, Ignace, 220. 
Palestine, as Promised Land, 6; 

condition of, 92; Jewish population 
in, 104 seq.; German ambitions in, 
116; in the politics of the Great 
War, 160; as a problem of the 
Peace Conference, 189; role of, in 
Jewish psyche, 272; necessary 
change of Jewish attitude toward, 
273; draft mandate for, 292, note; 
land tenure in, 313; labour in, 321; 
Jewish education in, 331; interest 
of Diaspora in, 331; investment in, 

Palestine Commission, 108, 109. 

Pan-Arabism, 249. 

Pan-Slavism, 158. 

Pan-Turanianism, 113 seq., 250. 

Parliamentary Committee on Pales- 
tine Affairs, 260. 

Parade, Zionist, 276. 

"Parushim,"The, 300. 

Patterson, Col., 166. 

Peabody, F. G., 265, note. 

Petach Tikwah, 94. 

Petavel, Abraham, 49. 

Petition, Zionist, 156. 

Petliura, 223, 224, 225. 

Pinsker, Leon, 71. 

Pilsudski, 209, 217, 220, 225. 

Pittsburgh Programme, referred to, 
192, 300; stated, 301; bases of, E01 
seq.; necessary to development of 
Jewish homeland, 312. 

Poale Zion, 89. 

Pobiedonostzeff, 69. 

Poel Hazair, 89. 

Poland, social structure of, 217; 
Powers quoted on, 218; origin of 
nationalism in, 218; Jews in, 219; 
influence of industry on, 219; 
parties in during the Great War, 
220; French imperialism in, 222; 
relation to Soviet Russia, 222. 

"Polonization of Commerce," 220. 

Powers, quoted, 218. 

Producers' Cooperation, 308 seq. 

Production, Economics of, 303, seq. 

Pro-Jerusalem Society, 255. 

Promised Land, The, 6; place in 
Jewish consciousness, 7; in Chris- 
tian theology, 7; in Jewish history, 
7 seq.; in the Jewish prayerbook, 
11; restoration to, 11 seq.; in Chris- 
tian tradition, 14. 



Protestantism, 25. 

"Protocols of the Elders of Zion," 

235; Lucien Wolf's exposure of, 

Provisional Executive Committee 

for General Zionist Affairs, 135, 

Public Utilities, in Palestine, 315. 

Rabbinism, 66. 

Raines, Rabbi Jacob, 87. 

"Red Ticket," 105, 116. 

Reformation, Wars of the, 25. 

Reformed Judaism in the United 
States, 132. 

Reform Movement, in Judaism, 35- 

Reinach, Salomon, 57. 

Reorganization Commission, Zionist, 
281, note, seq. 

Resolution, of British Labour on 
Balfour Declaration, 260, 261. 

Restoration, Idea of, 1648-66, 30; 
letter to Jews of France on, 40; 
plan of M. M. Noah for, 42; Hess's 
plan for, 60; urged by George 
Eliot, 50 seq. ; Kalischer's plan for, 
70; Herzl's plan for, 73. 

Ricardo, David, 53. 

Righteousness, 8, 9, 295; as social 
economy in ancient Israel, 296 

Riot, The Jerusalem, 258; effect of, 
in England and the United States, 
259 seq. 

Rishon-le-Zion, 94. 

Rochdale Plan, The, 308. 

Rosenwald, Julius, 151. 

Rosh Pinnah, 94. 

Rothschild, Baron Edmond de, 72, 
96, 97, 107, 314. 

Rothschild, Lord, 169, 300. 

Rothschild, Major James, de, 97, 

Rousseau, 34. 

Ruge, Arnold, 59. 

Rumania, organizes Terror in Hun- 
gary, 229; economy of, 232; status 
of Jews in, 233. 

Ruppin, Arthur, 109, 275, note. 

Russia, economy of, 208; dependence 
of, on Europe, 209; Soviet Re- 
public of, in foreign politics, 210; 

education in, 211; American atti- 
tude toward, 212. 

Russian Revolution, The, 151. 

Ruthenberg, Pincus, 165, 171, 256, 


Sabbattai Zevi, 16, 27-31. 

Salvador, Joseph, 56. 

Samuel, Sir Herbert, 165, 259, 262. 

Samuel, Sir Stuart, 221. 

San Remo, Treaty of, 263; social 

significance of, 263; effect on Jew- 
ish position, 267 seq. 
Scientific Charity, Relation of Jews 

to, 125. 
Schiff, Jacob H., 118, note; 141, 170. 
Schwendt, Deputy, 35. 
Scott, C. P., 165. 
Settlers, early Jewish in the United 

States, 121; relations with later 

comers, 122. 
Shekel The 79. 
Shlakhta, The Polish, 64, 218, 219, 

Sh'tadlan, The, 123 seq.; 144. 
Sidebotham, Herbert, 165. 
Simon, Julius, 281, note. 
Sixth Zionist Congress, 82, 106. 
Skoropadski, Hetman, 223. 
Smith-Gordon, L., 308, note 
Smuts, Gen. Jan, 228, 251. 
Socialism, origins of, 53; among 

American Jews, 130. 
Sokolow, N., 165, 166, 167, 189, 269. 
Sounischseu, Albert, 308, note. 
Spire, Andre, 189. 
Spinoza, 31. 

Steel and Gold, War of, 158. 
Straus, Nathan, 136. 
Suarez, 25. 

Sulzberger, Judge Mayer, 141. 
Supernaturalism among Jews, 15; 

messianic, 65. 
Swinburne, 48. 
Sykes-Picot Treaty, The, 160, 251, 

258 289. 
Sykes', Sir Mark, 160, 166, 169, 251. 
Syrian Congress, The, 257. 
Syrian and Palestine Colonization 

Society, 49. 

Talaat Pasha, 170. 

Teachers' Union, The, 118 seq. 



Times, London, 167. 

Titus, 13. 

Torah, 10. 

Transfer Department, The, of Pro- 
visional Executive Committee for 
General Zionist Affairs, 154. 

Tripartite Agreement, The, 262. 

Tschlenow, Dr., 118, 265. 

Turkish Empire, organization of, 
110 seq; Young Turkish revolu- 
tion in, 112. 

Turks, attitude toward Balfour 
Declaration, 170; attitude of Coun- 
cil of Four toward, 250. 

Uganda, 77. 

Unam Sanctam, Bull of, 23. 

Ussishkin, M. M., 106, 189, 283, 

Ukrainia, French politics for, 223; 

during the Great War, 223; 

economic character of, 224. 
Union for Labour and Democracy, 

American, on Zionism, 168. 
United States, The, influence of, at 

Peace Conference, 212; ideology of, 

212 seqr, economic changes in, 213; 

national neurasthenia in, 214; 

foreign propaganda in, 215. 
Universalism, prophetic, 12. 

Va'ad Hachinuch, 327. 
Wad Halashon, 100. 
Va'ad Hazmani, 258. 
Voltaire. 34. 

Wa'ad Arbah Arazoth, 27. 

Wadi-el-Hannin, 94. 

Warburg, Otto, 108. 

War Aims, duplicity of, 157; British 
Labour Party Statement on, 287, 

Ward, H. F., 265, note. 

War Congress, American, on Zion- 
ism, 168. 

Wars, Religious, 25. 

Water-power, importance of, for 
Jewish Palestine, 289. 

Weizmann, Chaim, 165, 167, 174, 
189, 194, 244, 257, 281, note, 316, 

Wilson, Woodrow, belief in Zionist 

programme, 166; letter regarding 
Hebrew University, 174; on war 
aims, 175; stand on Jewish rights, 
181; at the Peace Conference, 197; 
fear of Bolshevism, 205; on French 
militarism, 206; illness of, 215; 
programme of, 249, 286. 

Wise, Stephen S., 131, 136, 180. 

Wolfsohn, David, 84. 

Woman, changed position of, 
through reform movement in 
Judaism, 37. 

Wolf, Lucien, 236, 242. 

Wrangel, Baron, 209. 

Yehudah, Eliezer Bea, 99 seq. 
Yemenites, 108. 

Young Turks, 111; attitude toward 
Zionism, 115. 

Zangwill, L, 75, 84, 244. 

Zechariah, 12. 

Zeiri Zion, 89. 

Zerubbabel, 12. 

Zhidlovsky, Dr., 178. 

Zikron Yaakob, 94. 

Zionism, origin and basis of, 5 seq.; 
attitude of Palestinian Jewry 
toward, 104; organization of, in the 
United States, 129 seq.; opposition 
to in the United States, 132; effect 
of the Great War on, in the United 
States, 136; and aims of Great 
War, 157; attitude of British 
Labour Party to, 168; attitude of 
American Union for Labour and 
Democracy to, 168; and American 
War Congress, 168; of assimila- 
tionists, 169; papal reversal on, 
258; Mr. Balfour on, 269 seq.; 
a compensatory ideal, 277; new 
purpose of, 280. 

Zionist Commission, The, 173, 190; 
difficulties of, during British mili- 
tary administration in Palestine, 
253 seq. 

Zionist Organization, first form of, 
78; in basic need of reconstruc- 
tion, 279 seq. 

Zionist Organization of America, 
reorganized from earlier Zionist 
societies, 155. 

Zion Mule Corps, 166. 


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