Christ's commandments teach us to see a friend and a brother and one's
equal in every man? The more we are Christians, the less of animosity
and exclusiveness can be in our hearts. What difference does it make
that two men speak different languages and pray in different ways?
When it is a question of paying duties and taxes, and bearing arms in
defence of the fatherland, religious and race peculiarities do not
matter.
The fatherland is for all of us, because we are all for the
fatherland. The fatherland is our common home, and this home we build,
keep in good order, and defend. We build our common home not like
hirelings, to whom, after they get their pay, the building becomes
alien. In rearing, decorating and defending it we bargain with no one,
we give everything that is necessary for its upbuilding and
defence,--we give our property, our labour, our very life. Even when
our labour appears selfish, even then--provided it is not criminal--it
is for the good of our common home: for, all that adds to the
happiness, well-being and freedom of each one living in the home, adds
to its strength and beauty.
We build our common home, decorate it and defend it, and we do it with
joy and willingness because in our common home we are neither
hirelings nor guests. In our common home, then, who are we? We must
know and always remember that in our common home we are all masters of
the house. It is not our right, but our duty toward our home, of which
we must take care just as every good master takes care of his house.
The consciousness of the fact that we are the masters of our common
home is clear; for it is seen that every one of us in whom conscience
and reason do not slumber, feels responsible for the disorder of our
life.
Not an outsider, nor a congress of allies, nor some one social class
shall regulate our affairs for the best of Poland, Finland, the Jews
and the rest. Neither our allies, nor any one of our social classes,
nor the wisest and strongest among us,--but all of us Russian
citizens, all of us who joyously and willingly bear the burden of
statehood, are called upon to settle in conscience and reason, the
fundamental problems of our great home-building.
* * * * *
In the face of the common foe we are all united. We have mustered all
our forces for the defence of our native land from the hostile
invasion. We are all brothers, all children of one fatherland, and to
all Russia is a good mother loving all equally well. Many are the
peoples Russia has gathered under her dominion and she is to all
equally benevolent.
How eager is one to say these words, to have the right to utter them!
But we have it not. Not toward all is Russia equally benevolent, and
in the hour of great trials and high deeds she is still unable, still
unwilling, to tear asunder the fatal chain, the terrible "Pale of
Settlement."
Whenever I met Russian Jews abroad, I always marvelled at the
strangely tenacious love for Russia which they preserve. They speak of
Russia with the same longing and the same tenderness as the Russian
emigrants; they are equally eager to return and equally saddened if
the return is impossible. Wherefore should they love Russia, who is so
harsh and inhospitable toward them?
Strange as it may sound, there are children who love their cruel
stepmothers. Of course, they are exceptions; usually such stepmothers
are hated. But in the case of Jews such exceptions become the general
rule: the Jews love the same Russia that is so cruel toward them.
Some one's interests demand that the Jews should be oppressed, stabled
in the "Pale of Settlement," limited in the right to education, and in
other respects. But to whose interest is it? Russia's? Surely not.
Social relations in Russia, as in every civilised state, must rest on
the immovable foundations of justice, reason, and conscience. All
those persons who are united by the fact of their belonging to the
Russian state must have, within the limits of the empire, the minimum
of rights, which, to our shame, are refused the Jews. This minimum
each one of us receives not for his personal or racial deserts or
distinctive traits, but as a citizen of the state. To obey the common
Russian laws, to pay the established taxes, to serve in the army,--all
these are the duties of a Russian subject, corresponding to the amount
of rights of which he can be deprived only by a court ruling for a
crime.
A man not dishonoured by a court decision may not live where he wants
to,--because he is a Jew; a boy who has not been dismissed from any
school for deficiency or misconduct, may not enter the "gymnasium,"
where there are plenty of vacancies, but where the few vacancies set
aside by a percentage rule for the Jewish brats, are eagerly filled by
them; a soldier's wife may not visit her wounded and agonising husband
because he happens to be dying outside the "Pale"; the deceased may
not be buried in the town where he died, for he had no right of
residence in that town,--what does all this mean? Who needs all this?
All these people are Russian subjects, not our enemies, and yet they
are treated in this fashion. What is the purpose of it all? Is it in
order to kindle among the Jews the fire of implacable hatred of Russia
and turn them into our enemies? But then we must be logical and not
tolerate them in the "Pale of Settlement"; we must exile or destroy
them. But a civilised state will never persuade itself to commit such
acts, inhuman though logical. And if it does not decide to do that, it
must, for the sake of its safety and dignity, grant to every Russian
citizen the elementary human rights. It is imperative that every
Russian citizen should have every reason to love Russia and no right
to hate her. If that portion of the Russian population which is
deprived of rights still loves Russia, it is because the people of
purely Russian extraction have no hatred for people of non-Russian
birth, and our co-citizens are fully aware of it. They know that their
disabilities are a burden to ourselves.
The removal of the Jewish disabilities is most imperatively dictated
to us also by our dignity as a body politic. The name of Russian
subject must be respected within our country, for otherwise the
civilised world will not grow accustomed to respect Russia. Our
country is feared for its military might and loved for the fine
qualities of its people, but it will be respected only when it becomes
a land of free men.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Several words here are crossed out by Russian
censorship.--Translator's Note.
* * * * *
ON NATIONALISM
_Vladimir Sereyevich Solovyov is known to the world as the
noblest and the most profound of Russian thinkers. The author of
a large number of philosophical and theological treatises, he is
also responsible for a slender volume of exquisite poems and a
series of publicistic works, wherein the cause of progress is
vigorously upheld. Solovyov was born in 1853 and died in 1900._
ON NATIONALISM
A speech delivered by Vladimir Solovyov at a University Dinner on
February 8th, 1890
The dominating idea of the present time is the national idea. Of
course, there is nothing bad about this. But the national idea as well
as any other, can be very differently interpreted. The conception of
nationalism which is very popular in our country reminds one of the
famous answer made by a Hottentot to a missionary, who asked him
whether he knows the difference between good and bad. "Sure I know,"
retorted the Hottentot. "Good--is when I steal other people's cattle
and wives, and bad--when my own are stolen." In a like manner, many of
our nationalists praise the love for their people and brand other
people's patriotism as treason.
In spite of the wide diffusion of this view, I persist in my belief
that the Russian national idea cannot be based on a Hottentot-like
morality, that it cannot exclude the principles of justice and
all-human solidarity. It is time that we should see the realisation of
the true Russian idea and of all that it implies, namely: Poland's
autonomy, Jewish equal rights and the untrammelled development of all
the nationalities that people the Russian Empire.
* * * * *
CONCERNING THE LEGAL STATUS OF THE JEWS
_Count Ivan Ivanovich Tolstoy, born in 1858, occupied the post of
Minister of Public Instruction at the time of Count Witte's
premiership. In 1907 he was a candidate for election to the Duma,
as deputy from Petrograd. A distinguished archeologist and
connoisseur of art, he was for many years the vice-president of
the Imperial Academy of Fine Arts._
CONCERNING THE LEGAL STATUS OF THE JEWS
BY COUNT IVAN TOLSTOY
"Therefore all things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you,
do ye even so to them." (St. Matthew, 7, 12.) This is the divine law,
which it is the task of every one who considers and feels himself a
Christian to follow, and which should also be strictly observed by a
State. Now, would any one of the Christians who owe their allegiance
to the Russian state consent to be treated as the Jews are in Russia?
Would he like to be confined within a certain definite zone of
settlement, to be kept from giving his children an education, and to
find himself excluded from many fields of honest and honourable
endeavour? Would he like, all through his life to be humiliated before
his co-citizens of other faith and birth?
You despise them, hate them, and accuse them of all that it may please
any maniac or liar to invent about them. Yet you demand of the Jews
that they should help you, when you stand in need of help. You,
Jew-haters, serve somebody or something, but truly it is not God, it
is not the cause of goodness that you are serving. In your blindness
you harm, above all, yourself and our country, our dear,
long-suffering Russia, whom the Jews, your co-citizens, love and
cannot help loving more than you do. They know that Russia hates none
of her faithful and loving children and that they are hated only by
people, who, either by nature or because of a poor education, cannot
exist without hating some one or something. By their deeds ye shall
know them, these wolves disguised as sheep.
Combat evil and side with good, do good, and do not judge a man by the
fact that his parents are Jewish or Christian, or that he was born
into one faith or another. Remember that we are all born equally naked
and that we must all die. Therefore, do not boast of your birth; bear
firmly in mind that we are all equal before God, before Truth and
that we must be equal before the Law.
As for the legal disabilities of a portion of citizens who are guilty
of no crime,--such as injustice must be completely condemned. In
practice, such a policy has always borne and always will bear fruits
of evil. The very existence of such an injustice corrupts and puts in
jeopardy the social body which tolerates it.... No benefits which may
be derived by individual persons or social classes from an inequality
of rights can justify the State in depriving a group of citizens of
their full rights, as a result of their race and faith. This is the
A-B-C of justice, and those who do not know it have yet to learn what
justice is.
Neither are the Jews better than we are, nor are we better than they.
We are all human beings and, as such, we must all be equal before the
impartial and dispassionate Law, which determines our rights and
duties towards the State and society. Good and bad people, I repeat,
are everywhere, and the proportion is roughly the same among us as
among them. Let us, therefore, strive for the realisation of justice
on earth, and let us believe in the final triumph of truth. The rest
will be added unto us. Without such a faith it is hard to live....
* * * * *
THE WOUNDED SOLDIER
THE WOUNDED SOLDIER
BY LEONID ANDREYEV
A sad and disquieting image often rises before my eyes.
It happened in Petrograd, on the staircase of a large, new building,
one apartment of which was transformed into a private ward. When I
entered the porter's lodge, on my way to a friend, I saw that it was
filled with wounded soldiers, who had just arrived, while curious
spectators crowded near the plate-glass door. The house was new and
luxuriously furnished, and the elevator on which the wounded soldiers
were taken up, was carefully covered with some kind of cloth, for fear
that the velvet would be soiled and the insects would get into the
seams. Upstairs the wounded were cordially greeted by a priest and a
man dressed in white. After having kissed the priest's hand, the
wounded, evidently embarrassed by the bright light and the luxury of
the place, entered the ward awkwardly and silently. There were no
seriously wounded on stretchers among them, all were able to walk; yet
it was painful to look at them.
There was a wounded soldier in one of the last groups taken up by the
elevator who strangely attracted everybody's attention. He was a
short, young, lean, ghastly pale Jew. All the wounded were pale, but
there was something sinister about the pallor of his face; it was a
paleness of an utterly exhausted, anæmic or fatally sick man. He was
walking alone, feebly moving his feet, and like everybody else bent to
kiss the hand of the priest, but he hardly knew what he was doing, and
his kiss was strangely indifferent and meaningless. He was evidently
wounded in his arm, which he held stretched out. Several fingers were
wrapped up, the others, which were not injured, were covered with a
crust of dirt and blood. But on his coat, on the back, there was a
large brown blotch of blood, a very large one, covering almost half of
his back and in the midst of the soft cloth it bulged stiffly as if
starched. And this horrible spot told the simple story of the battle
and the wound. But it was not the stain that made him so peculiarly
conspicuous--other soldiers had similar blotches--it was rather his
unusual pallor, thinness and smallness, and, above all, an expression
of peculiar timidity, as if he was not at all sure whether his
behaviour was appropriate and whether he had come to the right place.
The faces of the other wounded soldiers, non-Jews, expressed nothing
of the kind. These men were confused, but not afraid, and walked
straight ahead, into the ward.
And then I recollected how a military sanitarian, whose duty it is to
escort a train of wounded soldiers, had told me that the wounded Jews
actually try not to moan. It was hardly credible, and at first I did
not believe it; how was it possible, that a wounded soldier, freshly
picked up from the battlefield and lying among wounded soldiers should
try not to moan, as all do? But the sanitarian confirmed his statement
and added: they are afraid to attract attention to themselves.
The Jewish soldier entered the ward after the others, and the door was
closed, but his image, sorrowful and disquieting, lingered before my
eyes. Of course, he, too, tried not to attract attention--and therein
is the cause of his shyness; and when his wound will be dressed and he
will be put into bed, he will also try not to moan. For, what right
has he to moan aloud?
It is very possible, that he has no right of settlement in Petrograd
and is allowed to stay there only as one of the wounded; a rather
precarious right! And that which is home for others is nothing but a
kind of honourable imprisonment for him; he will be kept for a while,
then they will let him go, saying: "Go away, you must not be here."
And what if his mother, or sister, or father, who also have no right
of settlement, will desire to come to him and kiss his bloodstained
hand which has defended Russia--vague, distant Russia? But these
reflections and questions came to my mind later. At the moment, I
beheld, with the eyes of a peaceful citizen, the bloody, hardened
blotch and the dreadful pallor of war, and the needless terror before
that which, after all, is your own, and I felt an overwhelming
depression and sadness.
* * * * *
HOW TO HELP?
_Catherine Kuskova is a journalist and social worker of
considerable note._
HOW TO HELP?
BY CATHERINE KUSKOVA
Lord, what a familiar sight! How many times have we seen it during the
last nine or ten months.... And every time you blush with shame and
you have the feeling of being overcome and petrified in the face of
the incomprehensible, elemental catastrophe.
The train slowly pulls up to the high structure of the station. The
scene is laid in one of the towns of the Western section. Faces of
passengers, restless, way-worn, sickly, are seen in the windows. The
cars are over-crowded beyond all measure. There are many black-eyed
children, with curly black locks, and also old people, decrepit with
age. The railway platform is crowded with Jewish youths, with
representatives of the Jewish community, and a mass of curious people
who eagerly scan the newcomers. A large crowd of passengers emerge
from the cars rapidly and in disorder. They are Jews deported from
the zone of military operations. The local Jewish community had been
notified by a telegram and now they are meeting the newcomers.
The community has seen to it that hot tea, bread, and milk for the
children is served to the deported right at the station. A most timely
measure! Many of them had had no time even to take food along; they
were deported on short notice, and, besides, a family is allowed to
carry no more than forty pounds of luggage. What is forty pounds for a
family often very large? They can hardly afford to take some underwear
and warm clothes.... Behind each family there remained a home,
probably a store, a stand, a workshop or simply a sewing-machine, the
sole source of income.... All are equal now in this dreadful train,
which carries them away from home, naked wrecks of humanity, torn from
their customary course of life and deprived of the daily toil, which
fed the family. And what a terror it is to look into their eyes. It is
plainly written in them: "This is nothing, the worst is still to
come."
They sat down on the benches in the waiting room, and started
drinking tea, and eating.
"Well, you are feeding your spies, eh?" suddenly remarks a porter,
addressing a representative of the Jewish community. The latter grows
pale, shivers, and quickly moves away. What, indeed, could one answer?
How does this great migration of a people impress an unsophisticated
brain? If the entire population leaves a district the matter is clear;
the place must be evacuated before the enemy. But the trains loaded
with Jews do not come from districts already occupied by the foe. How
else can a plain man construe this fact than that the Jews are spies,
dangerous people, in short, our internal enemy? And so this
one-year-old baby whose puffed-up, tiny hand hangs down from its
mother's shoulder is also an enemy, just as is this sad girl wearily
skulking in a corner, and this old man with his shaking head and
wrinkled hands,--all these are our enemies, otherwise why should they
have been deported before the arrival of the foe? Why such a peculiar
selection of the passengers of the dreadful trains? I go from one
porter to another, asking them who was brought on. The answer is the
same: "Jews, spies...." The very arrival of such a train engenders an
ill feeling toward the entire Jewish nation,--and how many such trains
have arrived here lately! And if you were to stop and ask who
established the guilt of these people, and whether it is thinkable
that all these tens of thousands of men, women, and children should
have been caught red-handed, no one will stop to listen to you. A Jew
is a spy,--this is the only impression that becomes indelibly branded
in the brains of the Russian population which witnesses the new
tragedy of the Jewish nation. The effect of the passage of these
trains is truly terrible, it is a series of systematic object-lessons
of hatred....
When the crowd has quenched its hunger and thirst, a new problem
presents itself: how to transport all this mass to the town and give
them shelter. For this purpose a number of carriages are kept in
readiness. The coachmen, all of them Jews, load the miserable luggage
and try to accommodate the old, the sick, and the children. Now and
then a bearded, husky driver would wipe away a tear; to one side,
Jewish women weep frankly. The sorrowful procession sets out for the
town. There the refugees will once more have to meet the Russians and
endure questionings, insulting remarks and slaps in the face.... Will
the Jewish nation stand all this?
Yes, it will undoubtedly stand this frightful trial. There is
something in its inner nature that enables it to hold out under the
most terrible conditions.
At the house of a representative of the Jewish community, I find
several people who handle the transportation and distribution of the
deported Jews.
"How many people have passed through your hands?"
"Several thousand. We get word by telegraph from the centres of
deportation as to how many people we should keep and how many send
further."
"Where do you get the means necessary for these operations?"
"The entire Jewish population of our town has imposed upon itself a
systematic refugee tax. This source furnishes us 3,000 rubles monthly.
Of course this is very little, ours is a poor town. Then we get
financial aid from the Jewish communities, which do not have to help
the deported directly. We have received several thousand rubles from
Smolensk, Petrograd, Moscow, and elsewhere."
"And how about the Russian population, does it render you any
assistance?"
"No, its attitude toward the deported is at best indifferent, and at
worst hostile."
"And the Jews, do they not protest against this new tax?"
"Oh, no, not in the least. You have no idea to what an extent the
feeling of solidarity grows among us in such cases. Here is an
instance. A train with the deported arrived here yesterday. It was
Saturday. That is, as you know, a sacred day for the Jews.
Nevertheless, all our Jewish coachmen came to the station to take the
newcomers to the town. We have asked them to come to-day to get paid
for their services. Not one of them appeared. And so it has been all
along. There is not a Jewish coachman in the town who would take money
in such a case. On the contrary, they would be insulted if they were
not asked to do their bit. When the first train arrived, the present
self-taxation was not yet in existence. We received the telegram
suddenly. Nothing was in readiness. Our young people got busy and
started canvassing the Jewish houses. And at once people brought all
they could: tea, sugar, eggs, milk. We met the hungry ones with full
hands. No, we cannot complain against the Jews; they do all they can,
even the poorest."
The representative shows me a heap of telegrams. Their contents are
brief: "To Rabbi so-and-so. Meet 900; meet 1000; meet 1100." Only the
numbers differ....
"And where do you house those who remain here?"
"Well, we accommodate them in the Jewish school, in private homes, in
rooms hired for the purpose. But here we met with a new obstacle. Our
town is situated on the left bank of the river Dnyepr. Now a new order
was issued to the effect that the deported should settle exclusively
on the left bank. We had trouble enough, I warrant you. Fortunately,
the local authorities have shown us some consideration and postponed
the second deportation.... But to entrain worn-out people and send
them anew into the unknown,--it is painful even to imagine it. Think
of it: to grow accustomed to the place, to the people who take care
of you,--and then again a train, a flashing of a station, and the
final outrage of the arrival. Many say: 'Better to die than to resume
our road again.'
"But we are forced to send them further, although nowadays it is hard
to place the deported; all the towns are crowded, the congestion leads
to diseases. Here, too, we have had several deaths...."
"Tell me," I said finally, "but you know, at least approximately, why
these people are deported? It is impossible that this should be done
for no earthly reason, simply because they happen to be Jews...."
How great was my repentance that I put this naïve question! I shall
never, never forget the eyes which turned on me. There was in them a
burning pain and another question: "Yes, for what crime? If we only
knew it.... Perhaps, you will tell us? You are a Russian, you are in a
better position to know...."
I got up quickly, shook hands, and left in silence, with a feeling of
repulsion for myself and shame for my helplessness....
* * * * *
THE HOMELESS ONES
_Sergey Yakovlevich Yelpatyevsky is a popular writer of
realistic, and humanitarian tales and sketches. In his youth he
was exiled to Siberia, and in 1910 he was imprisoned. He was born
in 1854._
THE HOMELESS ONES
BY S. YELPATYEVSKY
I