BY SAMUEL STRAUSS

[Illustration: _SAMUEL STRAUSS (born in Des Moines, Ia., in 1870), was

publisher of the Des Moines Leader from 1895 to 1904, and became

publisher of the New York Globe in 1904. Since 1912 he has been

associated with the management of the New York Times. Mr. Strauss has

taken an active and effective interest in many worthy movements for

Jewish betterment. He is a member of the Graduate Advisory Menorah

Committee and of the Menorah College of Lecturers. His impressive and

stimulating talks have given him marked popularity with the Menorah

Societies._]

WE are at present witnessing an instance of the truth that a great

crisis is always a test for genuineness. Since August 1st a number of

things seemingly vital have come tumbling to the ground as mere

inflated delusions or comparative trifles formerly viewed out of all

perspective. Men are beginning to realize that they have been

deceiving themselves, and the immediate effect is disappointment.

What profit will be derived from it all is as yet merely a matter for

speculation. Not yet have men been able to think of the conflict in

other than negative terms, to see in it other than despair, crippled

industry, a fall from civilization, all that belongs on the debit side

of the ledger. But there is also a credit side: and to realize that

the effects of war are positive as well as negative is by no means to

condone war, but only to accept it as a fact.

History teaches us to expect that the positive result of this struggle

will be in the nature of a physic--a dissolving away of delusions, and

simultaneously a bringing into relief of some essential facts. This

clearing of the ground will not wait until the war is over; it has

already begun, though men are yet but half-conscious of it, and then

only in the guise of profitless disillusionment. This state of mind is

understandable enough. The spectacle of thousands going out by

trainload to settle differences through slaughter has been a terrible

shock. Individuals, having progressed beyond that stage, had assumed

that collectively, too, men must share the same aversion to so

illogical a method as murder for the solution of differences. This

assumption has had root in a justifiable belief in the world's

attainment to a higher plane of civilization. The quality of to-day's

culture may not be so fine as that of Judæa, of Greece, or Rome, or of

the Renaissance, but surely in no period of history has its extent

been so great. Never had the entire world been nearer denationalization,

never had the economic interdependence of nations been more complete.

Jingoism has seemed obsolete, cosmopolitanism had seemed the ideal, as

the horizon of an increasing number of individuals broadened out, and

prejudice gave way before enlightenment. But now this assumption is

suddenly discovered to be mere delusion, and at once much scorn is

heaped upon "our alleged civilization." How much justification there

is for disappointment over the failure of culture to influence action

is difficult to determine. There is much confusion of thought on this

point. To conclude that because nations go to war, individuals have

therefore made practically no advance from the original state of

barbarism is absurd. What should be clear is the danger of

generalizations from the individual to groups of the individual--two

psychologically different entities. It may be that even as communities

we have progressed more than we believe, as some future reaction to

this war may indicate, but what is brought to the surface now is the

old fact that the progress of groups of men is at snail's pace,

however men may forge ahead as individuals.

This refreshed realization is by no means of negative value. It is

rather a positive benefit, and should be fixed in the minds of all men

who are striving collectively for various ends. For political parties,

socialists, suffragists, all and sundry reformers, this realization

should be the starting point from which to readjust programs when the

cataclysm is over.

For the Jewish people this realization is peculiarly significant.

Though the outlines of the general situation the world over are as yet

indistinct, some problems of the Jews have already been brought out

into sharp relief. Like the rest of mankind, the Jew has had his eyes

cruelly opened, and the clear boundary between truth and delusion

which this war has made should be stamped upon his memory, to remain

vivid after negative feelings of wrongs and disappointments have been

forgotten.

_The Delusion of Assimilation_

IN the past hundred years, the Jew has had more reason than at any

time since the dispersal to consider himself assimilated in all save

the Slav countries. Not that anti-Semitism had disappeared; but it had

seemed to be, and indeed is, so much less important when viewed

against the background of the Jew's positive advance to light and

freedom. Explained more recently as a survival of many prejudices

which do not die overnight, including the old religious differences,

physical and mental antipathies, economic jealousies--the force of

anti-Semitism was not only weakened by the increasing breadth of

vision, the cosmopolitanism on which the world has plumed itself, but

dwarfed by the achievement of the Jew himself. He has come out of his

Ghetto; softened by a more liberal attitude on the part of his

individual neighbor, he has largely laid aside his resentment and his

hostility. There was a feeling that adaptation and assimilation had

advanced so far that the Jew, by his own progress and with the consent

of his neighbor, had become a citizen of his community, differentiated

from the rest, if at all, only by what he chose to keep of his

religious belief. Those who have most zealously argued for

assimilation as the sole solution of the Jewish problem have had

little need of late to push their gospel further; the process seemed

to be taking excellent care of itself. But after all, it was not real.

A drastic crisis like the present one was required to brand it as

delusion. The attitude of the occasional individual was construed as

the attitude of the entire community. This has been a double-edged

delusion. The Jew has not judged himself as a community in relation to

his neighbor, and he has misjudged his individual neighbor as a

community in relation to himself.

It takes two sides always to make up the full truth, but from both

sides, from the Jew and from his neighbor, there is circumstantial

evidence in the events of the past five months that gives abundant

support to this conclusion.

In this time of crisis the world has thrown aside its pretense, honest

and well-intentioned pretense though it may have been, and revealed

its underlying feeling toward the Jewish people. Suddenly, without any

absolute change in their status, the Jews are singled out and set

apart. Special inducements are held out for their support. The Czar,

though this was reported upon dubious authority, addresses his

"beloved Jews;" a non-commissioned Jewish officer is recommended for

the Order of St. George; Dreyfus is decorated in France, his son made

Lieutenant; Austria issues a special appeal to the Jews of Poland; an

English Jew voices England's hope of their loyalty; in Germany

anti-Semitic newspapers suddenly announce their discontinuance.

_The Test of Jewish Patriotism_

IT is not a new story. Doubt of the Jew's place in time of war has

been continuous. Through the centuries there has been report that he

has dodged his war tax wherever he could, that he bought soldiers to

fill his place in the ranks, that as financier he offered his gold

without scruple to the bitterest foes of his own fatherland. How much

of this is based on blind prejudice is beside the point. What is

important is the effect that this doubting attitude has had on the

Jew's normal impulse to render patriotic service. The Jew to-day who

feels most keenly the cause of Germany, or of France, or of England in

this war, who most unreservedly throws in his lot with his

compatriots, glorying in a privilege long withheld, moved to an

intense fervor of patriotism, cannot but be disheartened at the

spectacle of his neighbors as in one way or another they give evidence

of their lack of faith in him.

Why this feeling of distrust? How has it been engendered, what are

its roots? Again the answer is to be found both with the Jew himself

and with his neighbor.

As far as the present situation is concerned, the Gentile world has

had lying dormant in its subconscious mind the notion that the Jew was

inferior, and by its own action it has kept this subconscious notion

alive. For while the world has admitted the Jew to its political life,

while it has modified much its religious and its economic prejudices

and jealousies, it has not broken down every barrier. Without fully

realizing its attitude, it has still held the Jew to be different and

of lower quality. The Jew's neighbors have had an honest sort of

delusion about their attitude toward the Semite; because they had

discovered the individual Jew, and taken him, as it were, into the

arms of their community life, they have fancied that all prejudice,

even toward the Jew as a class, had become obsolete. Here again there

is evidence of the fact that feeling toward Jews as individuals has

been mistaken for feeling toward the Jews as a race group.

This delusion has its base in something more fundamental, to which may

be accredited perhaps the distrust against which the Jews have been

battling for centuries. It is not the stranger who inspires continued

suspicion, for he soon ceases to be a stranger, but it is the wanderer

and the gypsy. There is imbedded in human nature a distrust of

shifting things and a respect for what is long established in any one

place, and it is in the wandering class that the Jew is placed in

spite of all talk of assimilation. He has had no point of departure

and hence no place of arrival. The French have crossed over the

Channel and become Englishmen; one would hardly know that the Romans

still live on in the Tyrol; but the Jew has always remained Jew, for

he has no established place from which to come and whither to return.

_"A People Without A Home"_

NOT only have the Jews been looked upon by others as a people without

a home; subconsciously they have always regarded themselves as such.

To-day a gigantic fund is proposed for the relief of the Jews affected

by the present war, by the very ones who have argued most persistently

for adaptation and assimilation. Yet this is a relief fund not for

Belgian Jews, nor French Jews, nor German Jews, but for all Jews

irrespective of the side on which they fight. The Jews are not

thinking of themselves in terms of citizens or subjects of this or

that country, but only as members of the Jewish race, who have no

unity save as members of that race. It is the surest indication that

beneath all self-delusion the Jews have subconsciously realized

themselves as a homeless people, men without a country. Is it strange

that the rest of the world should regard the Jew as alien when he

cannot but hold himself as such?

It would seem that this argument leads along a straight path towards

Zionism as its conclusion. But practical Zionism, like all other

programs of reconstruction, must await a time which will admit of

reconstruction, and that is not the present. It may be that when this

war is concluded, world conditions will have so completely changed

that Zionism and its geographic program will no longer be the answer

to the problem of Jewry. All that is certain of it now is its

uncertainty. But the spirit of which Zionism is the expression, and

which has made of it more than a mere experiment in colonization,

still remains, emphasized by the self-realization to which the Jews

have been brought in the present conflict.

_The Persistence of the Jewish Faith_

IN every crisis, even in those which have swept whole nations from

existence, the Jew has always found himself with one inalienable

possession--his faith. There is something mystifying about the

persistence through so many vicissitudes of a religion which commands

respect from neighbors who see in it a powerful inspiration, while the

Jew himself, especially the Jew more fortunately placed in the general

community, endeavors so often to cast it off as outworn and

impracticable. It is the Jew himself who has misled the rest of the

world into a delusion. He has seemed to consider himself, and the

faith with which he is bound up, inferior. In his endeavor to take on

the color of his environment, he has sought to lay aside all that was

old, and of this the religion of his fathers was a part. But a faith

as strong and as far-reaching as Judaism cannot be dropped out of the

life into which it has been ingrained, and hence the Jew has been hard

put to cover it up, to hide it, or to attempt its modification to fit

the fashion in religions. The inevitable reaction on the non-Jewish

part of the community has been a feeling of mystification, and,

following on that, suspicion and distrust.

It is this which has undermined confidence in the Jews as a

people--their negation of that which is their valuable heritage. For

Judaism is not merely tradition, a thing to be reverenced as a relic;

it is a thing to be put to everyday use. This practical and vitalized

Judaism is the real salvation for which the Jews have been groping,

all the while under the delusion that it was anywhere but near at

hand. Such a rejuvenated faith would mean an end of that homelessness

which is accountable for much of the Jew's displacement in the world's

life. And though the remedy has been intimate to him these many years

he has failed to make positive use of it. It is true that the Zionists

have been striving for a geographical base for Judaism. But a

geographical base is never more than an outward expression of a

people's unity; it is an excellent starting point, but as an end in

itself it is nothing. The Jews had a geographical base for their

start; thereby they were enabled to build up a unified result, the

Jewish spirit. It is this which, if recognized as a positive fact,

will take from the Jew his feeling of homelessness, and from his

neighbor the notion that the Jew is a member of a tribe forever

unestablished and purposeless. It is around a spiritual core that the

Jews as a people must build, around that central force which has thus

far held them intact.

_The Spiritual Service of the Jew_

AND never has there been a time, it would seem, when not only the Jews

themselves but the world at large were so ready for this

reconstruction. If in the very near future, as seems probable, the

Jews are again to play a prominent rôle in history, it will be more

largely through the pressure exerted by the world outside than through

their own initiative. Men are coming more and more to need what the

Jewish people, under certain conditions, are peculiarly qualified to

bestow. The period of materialism now undoubtedly coming to a close

has brought with it a heavy burden of discontent, and there has been a

turning from tangible comforts, a reaching out for spiritual

consolation. Under the rule of enlightenment religion has gone away,

and the world begins to feel its lack. One may not prophesy that

religion is soon to return, but the suggestion of its coming is in the

air. What the Jew will then be able to furnish may now be an open

question, but the great fact of his religion is undeniable. It should

be remembered that only in things spiritual has the Jew been able to

render world service; in material progress he has been able to do

little more than march with the rank and file. Should the Jew again

lead in the world, it must be in a time when the things of the spirit

are paramount in men's desires. With the hope that such a time is near

at hand, the Jew should retrim his lamp, in the faith that it may help

to illuminate much that had fallen into darkness.

[Illustration: Signature: Samuel Strauss]

The Menorah Journal, Volume 1, 1915 · 第 27 / 329 题