MY MISSION TO POLAND
Paris, in 1919, had emerged from her darkness. She had ceased her weary
vigils for air raids. She was no longer troubled by the nightmare of
Emperor William at the head of his army triumphantly entering her gates,
marching down the Champs-Elysées, and, like his grandfather in 1871,
mortally offending her pride by defiling the Arc de Triomphe. Instead,
she rejoiced daily in contemplating the thousands of captured German
guns which had been placed along this very route to celebrate her
victory. Crowds of people in their hysteric joy wept as they stood
before the decorated statues of Strassburg and Metz, which once again
were French cities. Versailles was not to be again used to crown a
German Emperor, who, this time, would have been Emperor of the World. On
the contrary, Paris was to have her revenge, for here were to gather all
the representatives of the various victorious nations, as well as the
neutrals, in an endeavour to formulate a permanent peace.
When this great conference was in the making, the Jews in America had
decided to join the Jews of other nations in a representative commission
at Paris, to make an appeal to secure in the Treaty of Peace an
assurance of the religious and civil rights of the Jews, in the
countries in which they resided in large numbers, particularly in
Roumania, Poland, and Russia. The Jews of the United States held
elections of representatives to a congress in Philadelphia, which was in
turn to select their members of the Commission.
I was elected a representative from my district. When, however, I
reached Philadelphia and conferred with some of the delegates, I found
that the elections had, in general, been so skilfully manipulated by the
Zionists that they were in complete control, although their views were
shared by only a small percentage of the Jews in America.
As I immediately realized that the plans of some of the most aggressive
members of this controlling minority were Nationalistic, which was
absolutely contrary to the convictions of the vast majority of Jews in
America, including myself, I declined to qualify as a member of the
congress, and left Philadelphia without attending any of its sessions.
Subsequently, two hundred and seventy-five prominent Jews, residing in
thirty-seven states of the Union, signed a statement which had been
prepared by Dr. Henry Berkowitz, Rev. Dr. David Philipson, the late
Professor Morris Jastrow, and Max Senior. This statement declared
amongst other things that:
As a future form of government for Palestine will undoubtedly be
considered by the approaching Peace Conference, we, the undersigned
citizens of the United States, unite in this statement, setting
forth our objections to the organization of a Jewish state in
Palestine as proposed by the Zionist societies in this country and
Europe, and to the segregation of the Jews as a nationalistic unit
in any country.
We feel that in so doing we are voicing the opinion of the majority
of American Jews born in this country and of those foreign born who
have lived here long enough to thoroughly assimilate American
political and social conditions. The American Zionists represent,
according to the most recent statistics available, only a small
proportion of the Jews living in this country, about 150,000 out of
3,500,000. (American Jewish Year Book, 1918, Philadelphia)....
We raise our voices in warning and protest against the demand of
the Zionists for the reorganization of the Jews as a national unit,
to whom, now or in the future, territorial sovereignty in Palestine
shall be committed. This demand not only misinterprets the trend of
the history of the Jews, who ceased to be a nation 2,000 years
ago, but involves the limitation and possible annulment of the
larger claims of Jews for full citizenship and human rights in all
lands in which those rights are not yet secure. For the very reason
that the new era upon which the world is entering aims to establish
government everywhere on principles of true democracy, we reject
the Zionistic project of a “national home for the Jewish people in
Palestine.”
Zionism arose as the result of the intolerable conditions under
which the Jews have been forced to live in Russia and Roumania. But
it is evident that for the Jewish population of these countries,
variously estimated at from six to ten millions, Palestine can
become no home land. Even with the improvement of the neglected
condition of this country, its limited area can offer no solution.
The Jewish question in Russia and Roumania can be settled only
within those countries by the grant of full rights of citizenship
to Jews....
Against such a political segregation of the Jews in Palestine, or
elsewhere, we object, because the Jews are dedicated heart and soul
to the welfare of the countries in which they dwell under free
conditions. All Jews repudiate every suspicion of a double
allegiance, but to our minds it is necessarily implied in and
cannot by any logic be eliminated from establishment of a sovereign
State for the Jews in Palestine.
Of this statement I was one of the signers. Congressman Julius Kahn and
I were asked to present these views to the Conference; Rabbi Isaac
Landman, editor of _The American Hebrew_, joined us, and the original
text was duly filed with the American Commission at Paris.
There the representatives of the Jews were well organized. Their
delegation included men from all the countries likely to be affected by
the Treaty; it had a large general commission, a secretariat, committees
and sub-committees, and it had an Inner Council. The majority of the
French and British Jews--as represented by the _Alliance Israelite_ and
the _Joint Foreign Committee of the Anglo Jewish Association and the
Board of Delegates_, which Claude Montefiore and Lucien Wolff
headed--felt as did the two hundred and seventy-five American
protesters and their adherents, whereas the central European Jews
strongly advocated the Nationalistic idea--and when I talked with the
delegates from the Philadelphia congress, I discovered that even some of
those who were not Zionists supported the aims of the Nationalists.
These men argued that Jewish nationalism in Poland and Roumania would
not be the same as it would be in America; that in the United States
there would be no state-within-a-state, but that recognition of the Jews
as separate nationals was essential to their well-being in central
Europe; that even the Germans remaining in Poland would have to be
protected as separate nationals. and that the general principle must be
formally recognized.
Every man has his master-passion: mine is for _democracy_. I believe
that history’s best effort in democracy is the United States, which has
rooted in its Constitution all that any group of its citizens can
legitimately desire. Yet here were Americans willing to coöperate with
central Europeans who wanted to establish in their own countries a
“nation within a nation”--a proposition fundamentally opposed to our
American principles.
I pointed this out. I said that, under this plan, a Jew in Poland or
Roumania, for example, would soon face conflicting duties, and that any
American who advocated such a conflict of allegiance for the Jews of
central Europe would perhaps expose the Jews in America to the suspicion
of harbouring a similar desire. Minorities everywhere, I maintained,
would fare better if they protected their religious rights in the
countries where they resided, and then joined their fellow countrymen in
bettering for all its inhabitants the land of their common citizenship.
Meanwhile, excesses had occurred in Poland and Jews had suffered
cruelly. There was genuine resentment coupled with real fear that the
trouble might develop into Kiev or Kishineff disasters. There was the
feeling that Poland, who had just emerged from her yoke of tyranny,
should be reminded of the world’s expectation that she should grant to
her minorities the same privileges which her centuries of oppression had
taught her to value for herself.
The Jews emphasized their expectations by holding mass meetings,
parades, and demonstrations in the United States and England. In New
York, 15,000 Jews packed Madison Square Garden, and many thousands more,
including 3,000 in uniform, stood in the surrounding streets. The
leading address was delivered by Charles E. Hughes. Resolutions were
passed calling upon President Wilson to stop these outbreaks, and to
secure permanent protection.
That was in May, 1919. In early June, Hugh Gibson, who had been our
Minister at Warsaw for a few weeks only, was asked for a report. He made
a necessarily hasty investigation. The conclusions he arrived at in his
report were greatly resented by some Jews, who charged him with unduly
favouring the Poles. Gibson came to Paris, and was joined by Herbert
Hoover, then managing the American Relief Work in Poland, and by
Paderewski representing Poland at the Peace Conference, to urge
President Wilson to appoint an investigating commission to ascertain the
truth. The President designated a commission composed of Colonel Warwick
Greene, Homer H. Johnson, and myself. As Colonel Greene declined,
General Edgar Jadwin was appointed in his place.
My reluctance to serve was great, my position difficult, and the
American members of the Jewish delegation did not attempt to diminish
the one or ease the other. My announced opposition to the Nationalist
theory and my attitude toward Zionism were against me; they unanimously
disapproved of my acceptance; and the arguments they presented to me
were forcible. In one breath, they said that they wanted a Zionist on
the Commission; in the next, they told me that it should include no Jew;
in the third, they would express the conviction that nobody could be
successful: a report in favour of one side was sure to displease the
other.
On my part, I felt that I must give some consideration to these men who
had devoted so much of their lives to the Jewish question and to
administering so many of the relief activities in America. Until this
period, I had always heartily coöperated with them, yet I realized the
absolute need of a fearless, impartial investigation and that,
preferably, with the participation therein of a Jew.
My hesitation is shown in the following message from the
Secretary-General of the American Peace Delegation to the
Under-Secretary of State at Washington:
POLK, Washington.
Morgenthau has been requested by President to serve with Warwick
Greene and Homer Johnson on commission to investigate pogroms
against Jews and Jewish persecutions stop Marshall, Cyrus Adler
advise him to decline urging that no Jew be appointed stop
Morgenthau is in doubt and requests that you promptly ascertain
opinion of Schiff, Wise, Elkus, Nathan Straus, Rosenwald and Samson
Lachman as to his acceptance.
JOSEPH C. GREW.
I even told Louis Marshall and Dr. Cyrus Adler that I would second their
efforts against my appointment, and I kept my word. When I found that my
messages to the President failed to move him, I insisted on a personal
interview with him, hoping then to dissuade him, and, on June 26th, two
days before the signing of the Treaty and the President’s return to
America, this was secured. When I stated to him that I wanted to be
relieved from the Commission, and suggested that no Jew should be put
on same, he replied, with great emphasis, that he had definitely
concluded to put a Jew on the Commission, so as to secure for the Jews
in Poland a sympathetic hearing, and that he had selected me to be
entrusted with this task and hoped that I would not refuse to serve.
“Your putting it that way,” I answered, “makes it a command, and as a
good citizen, I will not disobey it.”
Just returned from Lithuania and anxious to see his suggestions in
regard to that country pushed to realization, Colonel Greene begged to
be relieved from serving on the Polish Mission, and the President left
it to General Pershing and myself to secure some other army officer. I
went to the General’s residence on the momentous morning of the signing
of the Peace Treaty.
“Let’s step into the garden,” he said, and, turning to General Harbord,
added: “You come along.”
It was a bright spring morning. The acres of garden, hidden from the
streets of the Boulevard St. Germain district, and rich from centuries
of care, stretched green and quiet before us. We sat on an old stone
seat, and Pershing drew out a memorandum from his pocket.
“Here,” he told me, “are the names of the general officers that I have
picked out for some recognition. Now, Morgenthau, tell me what sort of
officer it is that you want.”
In a most comprehensive way he ran through the names and explained the
special attainments and attributes of each man mentioned. Here was the
honour list of the A. E. F., and the man who was explaining it to me was
he whose name was entitled to stand in capitals at its top. The
experience was like going through a picture gallery with an expert
pointing out the best in every portrait, and Harbord throwing in an
illuminating remark every now and then, was a connoisseur at the
expert’s elbow. I realized that the portraits were all real
masterpieces--no antiques--all moderns. They were the select of the
selected, but the two that apparently best suited our present purpose
were Mason M. Patrick and Edgar Jadwin.
“Our commission,” I repeated, “is expected to conduct a real search for
the truth, without prejudice; to be well balanced, the third member
should be a man who will work judicially, but be unencumbered with a
legal education and the quibbles that usually accompany it.” And, I
added: “Both Johnson and I are lawyers.”
Pershing replied: “If you mean a man who will balance facts
mathematically and then arrive at a conclusion, as an engineer does,
then Jadwin is the man for you.”
“Very well,” I said, “we’ll take Jadwin. Where is he?”
“I’ll have him meet you at the Crillon this afternoon,” said Pershing,
and he kept his word.
Johnson, Jadwin, and I organized our commission at the Crillon before
sunset that day. I left it to Jadwin to choose our executive secretary;
he chose Lieutenant-Colonel M. C. Bryant; we borrowed Major Henry S.
Otto from Hoover, and selected as Counsel, Captain Arthur L. Goodhart
who had been Assistant Corporation Counsel of New York.
That same night, Paderewski gave a dinner at the Ritz. In its
potentialities, in the sharp contrasts of character presented by the
guests, it was one of the most dramatic events connected with the
preparations for my trip to Poland.
The Versailles Conference was over. President Wilson, to whom the world
still looked for leadership, was starting home within an hour, taking
with him the Covenant of the League of Nations. The Treaty had just been
signed; the ink was scarcely dry on the signatures to that document
containing Article 93:
Poland accepts and agrees to embody in a Treaty with the Principal
Allied and Associated Powers such provisions as may be deemed
necessary by the said Powers to protect the interests of
inhabitants of Poland who differ from the majority of the
population in race, language, or religion.
And now, around that dinner-table sat, among others, Paderewski,
Dmowski, and Lansing, signers of the Treaty, and Hugh Gibson and myself:
Lansing, who as ranking member of the Peace Commission, represented the
government that held the balance of the world-power; Paderewski,
Poland’s Premier, who realized that the very life of his native land
depended on peace at home and good opinion abroad, and that these could
be secured only by a satisfactory settlement of the Jewish problem
within the Polish boundaries; Hugh Gibson, American Minister to Warsaw,
whose report on that problem had increased the storm of Jewish protest;
Roman Dmowski, the leader of Anti-Semitism in Poland, admittedly its
fomenter, who had found Article 93 a bitter pill; and I, who had been
appointed to go to Poland to find out the absolute truth.
Far from depressing me, this juxtaposition had a stimulating effect.
More than ever, I realized the delicacy of the task with which I had
been entrusted. In the respect paid to me at this dinner Dmowski’s
Anti-Semitism had obviously received quite a jolt, and I wanted to have
a talk with him. Paderewski, Lansing, and Gibson dramatically left the
table to hurry to the railway station and bid good-bye to President
Wilson. When they had returned and the dinner was over, I said to
Lansing:
“Here is your chance to tell Dmowski how the American Peace Commission
feels about our proposed work in Poland.”
Lansing assented, and after a brief talk with Dmowski, drew him, Gibson,
and myself aside, and I had my first man-to-man talk with the organizer
of the anti-Jewish economic and social boycott in Poland.
Dmowski was a heavy, domineering figure, with a thick neck and a big,
close-cropped head bearing the bulldog jaw and the piercing eyes of the
ward-boss. I had learned his story: in the days of Russian domination he
had tried to force the Jews of his Warsaw district to support his
machine’s candidate for a seat in the Fourth (1912) Douma; they refused
to vote for his man, who was an Anti-Semite, threw their influence in
favour of the Socialist candidate Jagellan, and elected him. Dmowski
ever after, through his newspaper and in his position as a leader of the
National Democratic Party of Poland, pursued the cunning policy of
making Anti-Semitism a party issue. It was a wilful plot, based on
personal spite, to destroy the Polish Jews.
“Mr. Dmowski,” I said, “I understand that you are an Anti-Semite, and I
want to know how you feel toward our Commission.”
He replied in an almost propitiating manner:
“My Anti-Semitism isn’t religious: it is political. And it is not
political outside of Poland. It is entirely a matter of Polish party
politics. It is only from that point of view that I regard it or your
mission. Against a non-Polish Jew I have no prejudice, political or
otherwise. I’ll be glad to give you any information that I possess.”
He then sketched, with vigour, the arguments against Jewish nationalism
and touched on the Socialist activities of one section of the Polish
Jews. He also said: “There never was a pogrom in Poland. Lithuanian
Jews, fleeing Russian persecution in 1908, spoke Russian obtrusively and
banded together to employ only Jewish lawyers and doctors; they started
boycotting; the Poles’ boycott was a necessary retaliation. On the other
hand, the Posen Jews speak German and the others Yiddish, which is
based on German: we want the Polish language in Poland.”
I arranged to have him meet General Jadwin and myself. He did so and
frankly explained his attitude toward the Jews and his participation in
the Economic Boycott. He had no moral qualms as to his using so
destructive a method in his political fight. He said that unless the
Jews would abandon their exclusiveness, they had better leave the
country. He wanted Poland for the Poles alone--and made no secret of
this desire.
Dmowski admitted his unfamiliarity with financial conditions and
referred us to Grabski whom he brought to see us. We also conferred with
the Pro-Semite, Dr. Tsulski, and a number of other Poles and Polish Jews
in Paris. I immediately encountered the clash of views that was to
continue throughout my entire investigation.
The more I talked with the different factional leaders, the more I felt
that they were speaking not so much from deep conviction as from
political expediency. Out of that feeling I evolved my ideal of what our
Commission ought to accomplish.
Here was Poland, who was expected to prevent a German-Russian
combination--a new family in the Clan of Progressive Peoples; and no
sooner had it entered the Clan than it developed a family feud. Now, the
welfare of the separate families is the welfare of the Clan. For the
Clan’s sake, Poland must be saved; otherwise, it would be an easy prey
to the common enemy. The investigator’s duty was not merely to
ascertain, if that were possible, which of the two contending factions
had told the truth, or which exaggerated; we were the representatives of
the most powerful participant in the Conference that projected the
League of Nations; it was for us to see whether the quarrel could not be
amicably settled, and the new family saved to do its part for the Clan.
[Illustration: © _Keystone_
IGNACE PADEREWSKI
Premier of Poland, and her representative at Paris, who suggested that
the American Mission be sent, and later, in Poland, aided it.]
Nor was that all. Our experiment was a new one in history. We were not a
delegation of conquerors dictating to the parties of a newly subdued
province. We believed that if internecine wars were to be prevented in
the future, one of the best methods might now be proved to be
investigations and recommendations, made as early in the quarrel as
possible by disinterested outsiders, who would represent an
international tribunal with power to act.
Accordingly, Gibson and I decided that the Polish Commission must set
out armed with instructions that would carry it far. We consulted Mr.
Lansing, and the following letter resulted:
Paris, June 30, 1919.
MY DEAR MR. MORGENTHAU:
As I understand that you and your colleagues on the Mission to
Poland are beginning your preliminary work here, I desire to make
some general observations as to the character of the task confided
to you by the President.
The President was convinced of the desirability of sending a
Commission to Poland to investigate Jewish matters after he had
been made acquainted with the various reports of the situation
there. His view was supported by the request of the Polish
Government, through Mr. Paderewski, that an American Mission be
sent to establish the truth of the various reports concerning his
country. Mr. Gibson, the American Minister to Poland, some time ago
asked that such a Mission be sent to Poland and outlined his idea
of what it should endeavour to accomplish.
It is desired that your Mission make careful inquiry into all
matters affecting the relations between the Jewish and non-Jewish
elements in Poland. This will, of course, involve the investigation
of the various massacres, pogroms, and other excesses alleged to
have taken place, the economic boycott, and other methods of
discrimination against the Jewish race. The establishment of the
truth in regard to these matters is not, however, an end in itself;
it is merely for the purpose of seeking to discover the reason
lying behind such excesses and discriminations with a view to
finding a possible remedy. The American Government, as you know, is
inspired by a friendly desire to render service to all elements in
the new Poland--Christians and Jews alike. I am convinced that any
measure that may be taken to ameliorate the conditions of the Jews
will also benefit the rest of the population and that, conversely,
anything done for the community benefit of Poland as a whole, will
be of advantage to the Jewish race. I am sure that the members of
your Mission are approaching the subject in the right spirit, free
from prejudice one way or the other, and filled with a desire to
discover the truth and evolve some constructive measures to improve
the situation which gives concern to all the friends of Poland.
I am, my dear Mr. Morgenthau, with every hope that your Mission may
result in lasting good,
Very sincerely yours,
ROBERT LANSING.
Our Commission arrived in Warsaw on the 13th of July, and we were
immediately immersed in the vortex of Polish affairs.
The Jewish masses looked upon us as hoped-for deliverers, and upon me as
a second Moses Montefiore, but no other faction was pleased at our
presence. Paderewski’s request that we be sent was far from representing
the wishes of the entire Polish people; the majority of the
Government--particularly Pilsudski, the Chief of State, and his
group--had difficulty in concealing their mistrust of the Mission, and a
large portion of the press unreservedly described our purpose as a piece
of uncalled-for interference.
As no enduring benefit was likely to be accomplished unless we won the
good will of all concerned, we saw at once that to secure this was only
secondary to our discovering the truth. Accordingly, as soon as we were
settled in the Raczynski Palace, where the Poles signed their
Declaration of Independence in 1790, we began a long series of
conferences with men from all the political factions, persons of the
various religious faiths, members of the Cabinet and Parliament, the
Volks-Partei, the Arbeiter-Verein, and with Jews--Zionistic,
Assimilators, and Orthodox. Of the Jewish members of the Parliament
there were Dr. Grynenbaum, Dr. Thon, Mr. Farbstein, Hardclass, Dr.
Rosenblatt, who were Nationalistic Zionists; Dr. Weinza, who was a
Radical Zionist; and Dr. Schipper, who was a Socialistic Zionist. Then
there were Preludski, and Hirsthorn of the Volks-Partei; and Rabbis
Perlmutter and Halpern of the Orthodox Jewish party.
Our quarters were flooded with visitors. To our first sitting came
representatives of the Zionists to state their case, and then the
picturesque Rabbi Perlmutter, with his white, patriarchal beard, who,
accompanied by two other rabbis, called to extend the welcome of the
Orthodox Jews.
That was the beginning of a full fortnight of Warsaw hearings. Day after
day, we sat there, listening, questioning, taking voluminous notes,
making bulky records. There came representatives from the Jews of Lodz,
Lemberg, Cracow, Vilna, and other towns--each delegation with its own
story and each entreating us to visit its city and conduct personal
investigations there. The story of the men from Minsk is worth
repeating: they claimed possession of definite information of a
conspiracy against them whereby, when the Polish Army should enter
Minsk, Anti-Semitic Bolshevist soldiers, lagging in the rear of the
Bolsheviki’s retreat, would “snipe” at the conquerors from houses
occupied by Jews, so that the Jews would be blamed and pogroms result;
they even gave the location of the houses.
Thus it went from morning until night. One day there were ten different
delegations, each important, each interesting, to be listened to. It was
not long before we found, to our surprise, that the chief sources of
trouble could be traced to a comparatively few factional leaders, not
more than would fill a small room, and that for these the opportunity to
express their clashing views was in itself a relief to the tenseness of
the situation.
In a class by himself, however, was Rabbi Rubenstein, who came from
Vilna when we were in the middle of one of our endless conferences with
Warsaw Zionists. He was a Lithuanian and though he had been flogged for
refusing to sign a paper charging the Bolsheviki with the Vilna
outrages, he was still defiant toward the Poles. Learned in more than
Jewish scholarship, he had a grasp of the economic laws involved in the
present difficulties and a keen understanding of world politics that was
touched with statesmanship. But, above all, he was the shepherd pleading
for his sheep; he displayed a pathetic faith that here at last was a
tribunal anxious to dispense justice. Imagine a face like that of some
mediæval artist’s “Christ,” lined with the horror of his recent
experiences; eyes wide with the grief that they had suffered in
witnessing the massacre of the flower of his flock. His gesturing hands
shook, his voice was broken by emotion, but he recounted the history of
these now well-known Vilna excesses with an eloquence that was all the
more moving because it was wholly unstudied, and every now and then the
current of his speech was broken by spasmodic ebullitions of resentment
which he could no longer repress.
He begged us not to make the mistake of previous hasty investigators. He
implored us to spend at least three days in Vilna. His community had
retained two lawyers, who had collected all the evidence; everything
would be thoroughly prepared, but there were so many witnesses to be
examined that a three days’ sojourn was the minimum necessity. Here, it
was clear, was no religious fanatic; his plea was so brilliant, his
sincerity so convincing, that we readily agreed with his request.
I have said that the Zionists were our first callers; they were also our
most constant. We were soon in close contact with all their leaders,
attended their meetings, and studied their activities. Some were
pro-Russian, all were practically non-Polish, and the Zionism of most of
them was simply advocacy of Jewish Nationalism within the Polish state.
Thus, when the committee of the Djem, or Polish Constitutional Assembly,
called on us, led by Grynenbaum, Farbstein, and Thon--all men who had
discarded the dress and beard of the Orthodox Jew--and when I discovered
that they were really authorized to represent that section of the Jews
that had complained to the world of the alleged pogroms, I notified them
that we were willing to give them several hours a day until they had
completed the presentation of their case to their entire satisfaction.
That programme was adhered to.
Besides their version of the excesses, they presented evidence of
considerable political bad faith and much economic oppression on the
part of a section of the Poles. Contrary to explicit understanding, an
election had been set for the Jewish Sabbath; and there had been
gerrymandering at Bialystok, so that in the municipal election the
Jewish votes had been swamped by voters admitted from surrounding
villages. We were told of the development of coöperative stores which
both excluded the Jews as members and were pledged against patronizing
Jewish wholesale merchants or manufacturers.
“But,” we asked, “you don’t expect to end these things by propaganda for
an exodus to Palestine?”
They admitted that taking anything short of 50,000 Jews a year out of
Poland would effect no noticeable decrease in the population there. They
were afraid that the Government intended to treat the Jews in the old
way and that they would not be given rights equal to those of other
Polish citizens; if they could not go to Palestine, if they were to be
regarded as a foreign mass in the Polish body politic, they wanted the
privileges that they felt ought to be granted them, to offset the
privations of such a situation. To that end they were employing the
Zionist agitation.
“We want,” they said, “to be permitted to vote for Jewish
representatives no matter what part of the country we or they live in.
The Jews form fourteen per cent. of Poland’s population. We want a
fourteen per cent. representation in Poland’s Parliament. That will give
us fifty-six members instead of the eleven Jewish members there at
present.”
They admitted that their fifty-six could sway legislation only in case
of close divisions among the other parties.
Then there were the Assimilators, whose attitude was the extreme
opposite of the Zionists. They invited us to a reception, and we found
them very intelligent and deeply interested in the future of
Poland--distinct in no detail of dress or speech, and holding membership
in political parties on purely Polish principles, just as a Jew in
America may be a Democrat or a Republican without reference to his
religion. They regarded Judaism as a matter of faith. They were
prosperous, many of them were professional men, and all of them mingled
on a footing of social equality with the Christians.
The meeting of the old order with the new presented many a contrast. I
recall particularly a reception of which the Countess Zermoysky,
representing the ancient aristocracy, was one of the attractions. That
was like an episode under Louis XIV transported untouched into the
modern world. Amid ornate decorations, lavish refreshments, excellent
music, and displays of fireworks, the pretty Countess presided with all
the grace and charm of a lady of the court of the Grand Monarch; beside
her towered General Pilsudski, the gruff and bluff Chief of State of
the new Polish régime. The old aristocracy was flirting with the modern
forces-in-power, and the modernists, more than a little flattered, were
by no means repelling these charming attentions.
Nothing could have been more interesting. While Ambassador at
Constantinople, I had seen the disintegration of Turkey. In Paris I had
been present at the obsequies of the German and Austrian Empires; here I
was attending a christening, with parents and god-parents, nursery
governesses and prospective tutors and guardians, all discussing the
child’s career.
Our escort, M. Skrzynski, the Acting Foreign Secretary, turned to me:
“In judging the Poles,” he said in that soft, musical voice of his, “you
must remember that we are really a sweet and sentimental people. The new
government has not yet assumed the full authority dropped by the
Russians. We are still uncertain whether, if we tighten the reins, the
horse may balk. Once the horse was the people; now the people are the
drivers. We are wondering whether the bit will hurt the tender mouths of
the aristocrats.”
He was a tall, handsome fellow, this Skrzynski, with the head of a
Beethoven and the manners of a Chesterfield. He looked an amateur
artist. He was one of those who came into the new government from the
old aristocracy; but he never forgot his part as a loyal Republican and
evinced an almost boyish pride in his work.
One evening we were asked to supper by a certain man of title. His
manner was exceedingly cordial and broad-minded, and he had ransacked
the entire neighbourhood to make his banquet a great success. He had
invited some of the prominent Jews of his city. He showed us with great
pride a statue of Napoleon by Houdon, and other fine works of art.
Captain Goodhart, the counsel of the Commission, was sitting with the
titled personage’s niece, a vivacious girl of about eighteen.
“Just look at uncle and aunt,” she whispered, “how charmingly they are
treating the Ambassador. They are just loading him down with attentions.
It seems strange to me, to see a Jew treated with such consideration in
our home. You know, I just detest the Jews, don’t you?”
“Well, really,” he said, “I can’t possibly agree with you, because I am
a Jew myself.”
The little Countess was all confusion.
“Don’t--don’t tell my uncle what I have said,” she begged, “he would
never forgive me!”
Askenazy is another personage of those days whom I shall long remember.
One of the great scholars of Lemberg University, he was known as the
foremost historian of Central Europe; since then he has become a
familiar international figure as Poland’s representative at the Geneva
meetings of the League of Nations. An occasional attendant at the
Synagogue, he was nevertheless a pronounced Assimilator and enormously
proud of the fact that his family have lived in Poland since 1650.
Askenazy saw small benefit to anybody in the alleged privileges of
educational separation granted the Polish Jews by the Treaty.
“If the Jews have their own schools,” he said, “that will only widen the
difference between them and the Poles.”
I reminded him that the separation extended merely to the primary
schools.
“It will be gradually applied to the high schools,” he insisted, “and
then to the universities. In their primary schools, the Jewish children
will of course be taught Hebrew or Yiddish; that will make it next to
impossible for them to mix with the pupils of the higher grades when
they get there.”
Very impressive was our visit to the chief synagogue of Warsaw. There
must have been 25,000 people present. Outside the building, those
clamouring for entrance literally jammed the square, and the streets for
several blocks surrounding it, from house wall to house wall; inside,
the crowd was so dense that every man’s shoulder overlapped his
neighbour’s. The cries from the street made it imperative for us to show
ourselves there, after the services, when we were almost mobbed. Some of
the crowd wanted to pull our automobile to our home; others clamoured to
carry us there on their shoulders, and something close to good-natured
force had to be used to enable us to reach our car. Rubenstein came from
Vilna for the meeting; there was a delegation from Posen; and Dr. Thon
represented the Jews of the Parliament. An eminent nerve specialist from
Posen, in his speech, stated that the nervous condition of the Jews
should be attributed to “Halleritis”--a fear of what the Polish Army
under General Haller might next do to them; while Poznansky, the Rabbi,
in his address, laid stress on the Jews’ desire to be first class, and
not second class, Polish citizens.
This is not the place to recapitulate all the details of our journey
through Poland. In Vilna, where our calendar was overcrowded, we got
through a really incredible amount of work, by running three tribunals,
each with an investigator, interpreter, and stenographer. The accounts
of the evidence--of the testimony concerning the outrages to which the
Jews had undoubtedly been subjected--all the world has long since read.
I shall touch only on three incidents: those at Stanislawa, Pinsk, and
Vilna.
From Stanislawa, the Christian authorities had asked for a visit from
our Commission to prevent a provocation of a pogrom by the Jews. When I
arrived, the Burgomaster explained that the Jews’ sympathy with the
Ukrainians might provoke an attack of the Polish citizens. I asked:
“How is your city governed?”
“By a representative committee of Christians and Jews.”
“How many Christians?”
“Sixty.”
“And how many Jews?”
“One.”
I said I should like to see that one.
“Well,” said the Burgomaster, “you see he wasn’t on good terms with the
Zionists, and so he had to go.”
I sent for a committee of Jewish residents.
They told us of their fearful predicament. The governmental control of
their city had changed six times in four years. Each time it changed,
the new power, be it Austrian, Polish, or Ukrainian, would punish them
for having been loyal to their predecessor. If they remained neutral,
all would make them suffer. “What are we to do?”
I guessed now what the local authorities had been up to. They were
anti-Jewish and, if the federal government had not sent somebody in
answer to their request, they would have interpreted that as the
sanctioning of further excesses. I therefore had the Burgomaster and his
friends in again, and declared that the republic’s authorities realized
that Poland’s standing with the outside world depended on her justice to
the Jews.
“You are politicians, and I am a politician,” I concluded, “therefore we
can talk in that language. You have been preparing for a pogrom. Now I
want to tell you that your government is as anxious as I am to avoid
further maltreatment of the Jews, and if any occurs in Stanislawa, you
will be removed from office.”
After we had a friendly discussion of the plight in which the local
Jews found themselves, the Burgomaster assured me that there would be no
difficulties in his city, and there were none.
I wish that I could adequately describe the scene that I witnessed in
Pinsk. It has haunted me ever since, and has seemed a complete
expression of the misery and injustice which is prevalent over such a
large part of the world to-day. A few months before our arrival, a
particularly atrocious Jewish massacre occurred. A Polish officer, Major
Letoviski, and fifteen of his troops had entered an assembly-hall where
the leading Jewish residents had gathered, as a committee in behalf of
the American Joint Distribution Committee, to distribute supplies of
flour for the unleavened Passover bread. The Poles arrested these Jews
and marched them hurriedly to the public square and in the dim light of
an automobile lamp, placed thirty-five of them against the cathedral
wall and shot them in cold blood.
A somewhat hazy charge had been made that these men were Bolshevists,
but no trial was given them, and, indeed, the charge was subsequently
shown to be untrue. Returning to the scene of execution on the next
morning, the troops found that three of their victims were still
breathing; these they despatched, and all the thirty-five corpses were
then thrown into a pit in an old Jewish cemetery, without an opportunity
for decent burial or religious exercises, and with nothing to mark the
graves.
Up to the time that our Commission came, not a single Jew had been
permitted to visit that cemetery; but I was allowed to inspect the scene
of this martyrdom, and, when I entered, a great crowd of Jews, who had
followed me, also went in. As soon as they reached the burial place of
their relatives, they all threw themselves upon the ground, and set up a
wailing that still rings in my ears; it expressed the misery of
centuries.
That same evening I attended divine service at the Pinsk synagogue. The
building was crowded to its capacity, the men wedged into almost a solid
mass. Those that could not enter were gathered outside. All the Jews of
Pinsk were there. This was their first opportunity since April to
express their grief in their house of worship. This huge mass cried and
screamed until it seemed that the heavens would burst. I had read of
such public expression of agony in the Old Testament, but this was the
first time that I ever completely realized what the collective grief of
a persecuted people was like. To me it expressed the misery of centuries
and remains a pitiful memory and symbol of the cry for help that is
still going forth from a great part of Europe.
Who were these thirty-five Victims? They were the leaders of the local
Jewish community, the spiritual and moral leaders of the 5,000 Jews in a
city, eighty-five per cent. of the population of which was Jewish; the
organizers of the charities, the directors of the hospitals, the friends
of the poor. And yet, to that incredibly brutal, and even more
incredibly stupid, officer who ordered their execution, they were only
so many Jews.
Something of the same sort happened at Vilna. There was fighting between
the advancing Poles and the retiring Bolsheviki; shots were fired from
private houses against the Polish troops, and the Poles, in the anger of
their new-found authority, assumed that the Jewish houseowners were
guilty. They did not stop to learn the fact that the Jews of Vilna were
glad to get rid of Bolshevist rule: they slaughtered or deported all who
were suspects--men like Jaffe, that Jewish poet who lived in a world of
his own beautiful and harmless dreams, were treated shamefully.
These descriptions of the occurrences at Pinsk and Vilna are totally
inadequate to describe the fearful plight of the Jews. Even the fuller
accounts contained in my official report to the American Commission to
Negotiate Peace--which is printed in full in the Appendix--does not
adequately portray the sad conditions of these Jews in Poland at
present. Giving harrowing details will not remedy the situation, and
might be misconstrued and do harm to those suffering people. Hence, I
have abstained.
It was in Vilna that we had a real show-down with the Chief of State of
Poland. All this time we had been in the unpleasant position of a
delegation of foreigners endeavouring to render a service to a country
whose president openly resented our presence there.
“Pogroms?” Pilsudski had thundered when I first called on him. It was in
the Czar’s summer palace near Warsaw that he was living, and he received
me in the “library” where there was not a book to be seen. “There have
been no pogroms in Poland!--nothing but unavoidable accidents.”
I asked the difference.
“A pogrom,” he explained reluctantly, “is a massacre ordered by the
government, or not prevented by it when prevention is possible. Among us
no wholesale killings of Jews have been permitted. Our trouble isn’t
religious; it is economic. Our petty dealers are Jews. Many of them have
been war-profiteers, some have had dealings with the Germans or the
Bolsheviki, or both, and this has created a prejudice against Jews in
general.”
At that meeting he stormed against the new school regulations; they
would not only ghettoize the Jews, but, and here his real objection
revealed itself, they were repugnant because forced upon the country
from the outside.
“Russia,” he declared, “will return to autocracy: the Russians can
survive even the privations of Bolshevism. But our problem is vastly
different. We have become a free republic, and we propose to remain
one, in spite of interference. The Poles and the Jews can’t live
together on friendly terms for years to come, but they will manage it at
last. In the meantime, the Jew will have all his legal rights. It is our
own affair; our own honour is involved, and we are entirely able to
guard it.”
Now our Commission was at Vilna, and Pilsudski came there; it was his
birthplace, and here were we invading it with an American Commission.
Etiquette required that Jadwin and I should call on him.
The president was quartered in the Bishop’s Palace. We were received
with great formality and ushered through several vast rooms before we
reached the audience-chamber. A storm was brewing, the light was dim. We
found ourselves in a great big uninviting room, with long windows
opening on a large court. War had stripped it of all its ancient
hangings; the old furniture that belonged there must have vanished, in
its stead were a few pieces of cheap and stiff modern manufacture. There
was a desk at the far end, and at it was seated Pilsudski.
He was a huge, forbidding man. His uniform, buttoned tight to the base
of his big neck, was unadorned by any orders--the uniform of a fighter.
His square jaw was thrust out below thick lips firmly set; his face was
abnormally broad, with cheekbones high and prominent; his cropped hair
bristled and his snapping eyes glinted from under a thicket caused by
his heavy eyebrows that met across his forehead.
He had evidently been reading the Anti-Semitic newspapers to advantage
and was determined to give me a piece of his mind. The storm from heaven
broke just as the verbal torrent began, and the patter of the rain on
the stones of the old courtyard wove in and out like an orchestral
obligato to the Wagnerian recitative of the Polish Chief-of-State. He
spoke in German--a language excellently suited to his purpose--and soon
the ancient rafters were ringing with his invective.
He declared that he was the chosen head of 20,000,000 people and would
defend their dignity. He represented the Polish Government, the ruling
power of a people that had been a nation when America was unknown, and
here was a committee of Americans stepping between the elected
Government of Poland and the Polish electors--positively belittling the
former to the latter. He dismissed as unfounded the stories about bad
treatment of prisoners. He asserted that, considering Vilna’s population
of 150,000, civilian casualties in the three days’ fighting for its
occupation had been comparatively few. Excesses? The exaggerations of
the foreign press concerning what had happened to a relatively small
number of Jews had been monstrous--one would think the country drenched
with blood, whereas the occurrences had been mere trifles inevitably
incident to any conquest.
“These little mishaps,” he said, “were all over, and now you come here
to stir the whole thing up again and probably make a report that may
still further hurt our credit abroad. The Polish people resent even the
charge of ever having deserved distrust: how then can your activities
have any other effect than to increase the racial antipathy that you say
you want to end?”
He was most bitter when he referred to Article 93.
“Why not trust to Poland’s honour?” he shouted. “Don’t plead that the
article’s concessions are few in number or negative in character! Let
them be as small or as negative as you please, that article creates an
authority--a power to which to appeal--outside the laws of this country!
Every faction within Poland was agreed on doing justice to the Jew, and
yet the Peace Conference, at the insistence of America, insults us by
telling us that we _must_ do justice. That was a public insult to my
country just as she was assuming her rightful place among the sovereign
states of the world!”
For fully ten minutes he continued his tirade. Nothing could have
stopped him and I didn’t try. When he was quite out of breath, I said
quietly:
“Well, General, you’ve made good use of your opportunity; you’ve gotten
rid of all your gall. Now let’s talk from heart to heart.” I suited the
expression of my face to my words!
The effect was surprising. He stared at me for a moment with unbelieving
eyes and then threw back his head and burst into a giant laugh.
Then came my turn. I said that, in my official capacity, I was no Jew,
was not even an American, but a representative of all civilized nations
and their religions. I stood for tolerance in its broadest sense. I
explained exactly what our Commission was after, told what we had done
so far and made it clear that we were there not to injure Poland, but to
help her. Pilsudski’s entire attitude changed; before I left him, he
consented to release the Jewish prisoners still in custody since April,
1919, “as rapidly as each case can be investigated.”
On our return to Warsaw, Billinski, the Minister of Finance, told us
that, in order to get the Orthodox Jews’ point of view, we should
interview a _Wunder Rabbiner_. Inquiry convinced me that the outstanding
of these, exercising a vast influence, was Rabbi Alter, of
Gory-Kalavaria, and, unannounced, Jadwin and I visited him at a summer
resort near Warsaw. A large number of students surrounded him, all
gowned in their long black kaftans, and bearded in the extreme manner of
their sect. He presented us to them and to his wife, and I found him
anti-Zionistic and anti-Nationalistic, but much depressed because of the
harsh treatment of the Jews. I asked him to visit me in Warsaw; he came,
accompanied
[Illustration: JOSEPH PILSUDSKI
Chief of State of Poland, who was not, at first, in sympathy with the
American Mission.]
by his son-in-law and two other Orthodox Rabbis, Lewin and Sirkis, and I
had a stenographer take down our conversation.
Space will not permit the reproduction here of all that these leaders
said, and I shall confine myself to repeating just a few of their
remarks, and in considering them, it should be kept in mind that the
Orthodox Jews number 80 per cent. of the Jewish population of Poland.
“Our principal conflict,” said Rabbi Alter, “is with Jews: our chief
opponents at every step are the Zionists. The Orthodox are satisfied to
live side by side with people of different religions.... The Zionists
side-track religion.”
“We are exiled,” said Rabbi Lewin; “we cannot be freed from our
banishment, nor do we wish to be. We cannot redeem ourselves.... We will
abide by our religion [in Poland] until God Almighty frees us.”
And again: “We would rather be beaten and suffer for our religion [than
discard the distinguishing marks of Orthodox Judaism, such as not
cutting the beard, etc.].... The Orthodox love Palestine far more than
others, but they want it as a Holy Land for a holy race.”
News of our proceedings had preceded us to Warsaw, and our purpose was
beginning to be understood and appreciated, even by those who had
formerly suspected and mistrusted us.
I had another talk there with Pilsudski. He said that the Poles and Jews
must live together, that their relations could never be perfect, but
that the Government would really do its best to avoid friction.
Meantime, he hoped that there would be an end of official missions to
inquire into the problem; he had no objection to private investigations,
and, so far as our mission was concerned, he admitted it had already had
a good effect. He hoped our report would satisfy the world enough to end
such inquiries, for he did feel that interference from foreign nations
was bad for the prestige of the government at home. He concluded by
asking Jadwin and myself to meet his Cabinet at a luncheon which he had
instructed Skrzynski to arrange.
Skrzynski opened the talk that followed the luncheon by praising our
work and our evident inclination to spare Poland’s pride. I followed by
saying that, though we would have to rap Poland’s knuckles and blame
some of the Poles severely for certain excesses and economic
persecutions, which I strongly condemned, we would present our
conclusions with fairness to both sides. It was important not to forget
that this was a matter in which all the world was interested and that
only strict honesty would satisfy. The Polish authorities had adopted a
contradictory defense, entering a general denial and yet pleading
justification. They ought to have confessed that excesses had occurred,
denied any official participation in them, frowned upon them, promised
to prevent them in the future, and punished the culprits.
Billinski replied for the Cabinet. A man of more than seventy, he had
held the portfolio of Finance under the Emperor Franz-Josef of Austria
and was typical of the old Continental bureaucracy. He, too, felicitated
us on the pleasant ending of our work, concerning which, he said, he and
his colleagues had entertained such grave doubts. Poland, he said,
wanted no more “polemics”; the desire of the government was to quiet
things. Any admission of mistakes they thought had better be decided by
Paderewski. He hoped that our report would call attention to Poland’s
thousand years of culture, which had made her the advance post of
civilization in eastern Europe; would mention that she had ever been
tolerant toward the Jew and welcomed his arrival and that she did not
forget how, in the Revolution of 1863, the Jews had loyally fought
against Russia. They would not have done that, he argued, had the Poles
been persecuting them. He said it was unfortunate that, in the recent
war, some Jews had informed against the Poles in Galicia and thereby
created the prejudice against them.
“The Pole,” he concluded, “must live side-by-side with the Jew and wants
to do it in peace.”
What, in this question of Anti-Semitism, were the feelings of that
member of the government who is best known to all the world? Ignace
Paderewski is not only not an Anti-Semite: he is infinitely the greatest
of the modern Poles.
After my experience at the synagogue in Warsaw, to which I have already
referred, I asked Paderewski if he would not accompany me to service
some Friday. I said that he was charged with being Anti-Semitic.
“How ridiculous!” he answered.
“M. Paderewski,” I explained. “I know you are not Anti-Semitic, and you
know that you are not--but how are the people to be convinced of it?”
Paderewski at once saw the point. He was anxious to refute the charge
against him, yet his caution prompted him to consult his political
associates, who advised against his adoption of my suggestion.
“Never mind,” he reassured me: “I’ll find another way.”
That way he found when Hoover came to Warsaw. I was then about to visit
Pinsk, and he requested me to postpone it for a day or two.
“I am giving a state dinner for Mr. Hoover at my official residence,”
said he, “I want you to come to that and let the doubters see how you
will be one of the Premier’s most honoured guests.”
That dinner was a gorgeous affair. Everybody of political, financial,
and social importance was there; the representatives of the old
aristocracy, the makers of the new republic. The table was a sort of
squared horseshoe, its head the outside centre of the crosspiece, its
foot the inside centre. Paderewski had personally arranged the seating:
on his right sat Gibson, at his left Jadwin; Mme. Paderewska was at the
table’s head; Hoover sat at her left; General Pilsudski, as
Chief-of-State, sat at her right; and at his right was the place that
the Premier had given me.
Few knew at that time of any change in General Pilsudski’s attitude
toward the Commission. All the guests supposed him still firm in his
opposition to us. From my seat beside him, I saw many inquisitive eyes
fixed on us, and showing their surprise at my sitting next to him. We
were conversing intimately and almost incessantly. It was evident that
everybody was wondering what passed between us.
And what did?
The terrible Chief-of-State was telling me, quite simply, the story of
his adventurous life: how he had fought always for Polish liberty, how
he had suffered imprisonment at Magdeburg.
“But, even when there seemed no hope for either my country or me,” he
declared, “I never lost my faith. A marvellous gypsy palmist had assured
me that I was destined to be dictator of Poland.”
I looked at him in amazement. It seemed incredible that this hardened
soldier should be speaking seriously.
“The palmist,” he continued, with the simplicity of a child, “found that
the lines at the base of my right forefinger formed a star. That is a
sure sign that the lucky bearer is to rise to mastery.”
He held out his hand to me. I could almost hear the rustle of excitement
among the watching guests to whom, of course, his words were inaudible.
The star was there. Then, inquisitively, I looked at my own right hand,
and to my great surprise I also found a star!
“I have the mark as well as you,” I laughingly proclaimed, “but the
nearest approach I ever made to a dictatorship was when the British were
expected in Constantinople in 1915, and I was to be in control of the
city between the departure of the Turks and the British occupation.”
News of what Pilsudski and I were doing spread rapidly. Many guests
unsuccessfully looked for a star in their own hands, and then came up to
look at the General’s and mine.
Shoulder to shoulder with me sat this man trained to fighting. Opposite
to him was Paderewski, with his wonderful head, with its fine, high
brow, from which flowed that magnificent shock of hair, and showing
those piercing eyes whose expression had puzzled so many, and whose
whole education had been directed toward the evoking of harmony. For
years, American music lovers had listened to this great virtuoso and
been entranced by his vigorous and yet delicate interpretation of many
of the most difficult and intricate classics. Now, he was no longer
living amid clouds of harmonies and études, but was second only to
Pilsudski in the council of this budding republic. There sat this sheer
genius--this unstarred master. He needed no mark on his palm, no
divining gypsy’s prophecy to prove that he would excel in any sphere to
which he might direct his talent. Twelve or fifteen years ago, there was
a picture painted of him and hung in the Lemberg Gallery: it showed him
as Orpheus quieting the wild beasts with his lyre. It was of this that
he irresistibly reminded me that night. He had undertaken the almost
impossible task of reconciling the contending factions of his native
land, and was eliminating race hatred itself. From a chance post of
vantage, I could not help watching the court he held during the
reception that followed the dinner. It equalled that of Pilsudski.
Princes and politicians vied with each other for an opportunity to
approach him, and to each he gave, with a perfect grace, an absorbed
attention.
Another of his many sides I came to know. Poland’s financial plight
seemed to me, the more I studied it, not so desperate as feared. If
prompt and decisive help were offered, I believed, the Poles would rally
and work out their own salvation. As it was, the idle people were losing
their self-respect and were drifting toward militarism, simply through
their inactivity. I thought a plan could be devised by which they could
be aroused from their lethargy and given a start toward becoming a
vigorous, self-supporting people. I had great faith in Paderewski who, I
felt, did not subscribe to the militaristic views of Pilsudski, and I
thought there was a good chance for working out a plan for the economic
salvation of his country.
In Vilna, I spoke to a number of prominent business men, irrespective of
religion, in regard to this matter. I asked them whether, if America
would help to organize a great corporation which would endeavour to
finance Poland, they would be ready to subscribe to some of the stock. I
was somewhat surprised at their prompt acquiescence.
“But,” I pointed out, “you will probably be expected to subscribe in
gold. Have you got it?”
“Oh, yes,” they answered.
Gold in ravished Poland! “Where?” I asked.
“In the Agrarian Bank.”
I said that I didn’t know the institution.
Then they smilingly explained. The Agrarian Bank was a hole in the
ground. At the outbreak of the World War these thrifty Poles had buried
their gold, hence, these men of Vilna were ready to subscribe
generously.
When I returned to Warsaw, I discussed this plan with my associate
Johnson, who had had business experience, and he became enthusiastic
about it. I then presented it in detail to Paderewski, and his only
criticism was that the Poles would want a majority of the stock at once.
I told him that there was not the slightest objection to that, but that
I could devise a method by which they could eventually secure all of it,
and I doubted if it were wise to take too much at first. He then said
that there must be an American at the head of this corporation, and that
he must be one that was not connected with Wall Street, but who would
have the confidence of the entire American community. I proposed several
names, and we finally agreed that Franklin K. Lane was the best man.
Paderewski asked me to put the full details of this plan in a letter to
him. I asked Colonel Bryant, who was an expert stenographer, whether he
would be willing to forget his military rank for a short time and revert
to his former activities by acting as my secretary. He readily assented,
and to escape the constant interruptions at our headquarters, we
automobiled five miles outside of Warsaw, gave the chauffeur a package
of cigarettes and told him to disappear; and there on the highway, I
dictated in an American automobile to an American colonel a letter which
will be found in the Appendix.
I handed this letter to Paderewski, and stressed my views that the mere
announcement of such a corporation being contemplated would more than
double the value of the mark at once. Paderewski thought for a minute
and then said:
“Mr. Morgenthau, that is absolutely true, and I am afraid that that is
going to prevent our adopting the scheme.”
I was extremely puzzled, and was dumbfounded as he continued:
“We cannot afford to have our marks rise too rapidly. We have sold too
many at this low price, and it would bankrupt us to redeem them at the
higher value which this scheme would give them. We must find some way of
disregarding the present value of the mark, and start a new currency
system.”
He had evidently given this some thought, because he asked me how long
it would take in America to prepare new plates and print for them a new
currency, and he told me that they would have piastres and pounds. I
said I thought one of the banknote companies could do it in three
months, perhaps less. Finally, he said to me:
“Don’t speak to any one about this plan, because I don’t want any one to
know that the suggestion comes from you until it is put into effect.”
Two days later, when I met him again, he pulled out my letter and said:
“Here I am carrying your letter, and am still giving attention to your
scheme.”
I still think that a corporation of that kind would have put Poland on
her feet.
The time now approached for our Commission’s departure. Our
investigations were ended, our work was done. We considered our final
decision.
There was no question whatever but that the Jews had suffered; there had
been shocking outrages of at least a sporadic character resulting in
many deaths, and still more woundings and robberies, and there was a
general disposition, not to say plot, of long standing, the purpose of
which was to make the Jews uncomfortable in many ways: there was a
deliberate conspiracy to boycott them economically and socially. Yet
there was also no question but that some of the Jewish leaders had
exaggerated these evils.
There, too, were malevolent, self-seeking mischiefmakers both in the
Jewish and Polish press and among the politicians of every stripe. Jews
and non-Jews alike started out with the presumption that there could be
no reconciliation. Our Commission had to deal with people, most of whom
could not conceive of the possibility of disinterested regard for their
welfare. Their experiences with the Russian courts had taught them
always to over-state the facts and when one realizes that there is a
conflict of testimony, and in most of them perjury is committed, it made
us quite patient when we found them just a little less truthful than our
American litigants.
We found that, among the Jews, there was a thoughtful, ambitious
minority, who, sincere in their original motives, intensified the
trouble by believing that its solution lay only in official recognition
of the Jew as a separate nationality. They had seized on Zionism as a
means to establish the Jewish nation. To them, Zionism was national, not
religious; when questioned, they admitted that it was a name with which
to capture the imagination of their brothers whose tradition bade them
pray thrice daily for their return to the Holy Land.
Pilsudski, in a moment of diplomatic aberration, had said that the Jews
made a serious error in forcing Article 93; quoting that utterance,
these Nationalists now asserted that neither the Polish Government, nor
the Roumanian for that matter, ever would carry out the spirit of the
Treaty concessions, and so they aimed at nothing short of an autonomous
government and a place in the family of nations. Meanwhile, they wanted
to join the Polish nation in a federation having a joint parliament
where both Yiddish and Polish should be spoken: their favourite way of
expressing it was to say that they wanted something like Switzerland
where French, German, and Italian cantons work together in harmony.
Unfortunately, they disregarded the facts in the case. In Switzerland,
generally speaking, the citizens of French language live in one section,
those of German language in another, and so on, whereas these aspiring
Nationals, of course, wanted the Jews to continue scattered throughout
Poland. They wanted this, and yet wanted them to have a percentage of
representation in Parliament equal to their percentage in the entire
Polish nation! Finally, they took no account of the desires of the
Orthodox Jews, who form about 80 per cent. of their number, who were
content to remain in Poland and suffer for their religion if necessary,
and whom the Polish politicians were already coddling and beginning to
organize politically as a vote against the Nationalist-Zionists.
The leaders of these Nationalist-Zionists were capable and adroit, but
they were like walking delegates in the labour unions, who had to
continue to agitate in order to maintain their leadership, and their
advocacy of a state-within-the-state was naturally resented by all. It
was quite evident that one of the deep and obscure causes of the Jewish
trouble in Poland was this Nationalist-Zionist leadership that exploited
the Old Testament prophecies to capture converts to the Nationalist
scheme.
Here, then, was Zionism in action. We had seen it at first hand in
Poland. I returned home fearful that, owing to the extensive propaganda
of the Zionists, the American people might obtain the erroneous
impression that a vast majority of the Jews--and not, as it really was,
only a portion of the 150,000 Zionists in the United States--had ceased
considering Judaism as a religion and were in danger of conversion to
Nationalism.