A History of Zionism (2 page)

On a certain level, Zionism had been founded as an expression of opposition to the way of life of the Eastern European ghetto, and one of its main missions in Israel was to create a productive society in contrast to the parasitical life so commonly associated with the
shtetl.
Yet the ghetto and its mentality proved to be resilient, and it has come back to haunt the Zionists in the country they had created. Given the fragmentation of Israeli political life, the ultra-Orthodox have achieved a degree of influence, in the Israeli Knesset and in municipalities, that is out of proportion with their numbers. They have also succeeded in extending their influence beyond the Ashkenazic community and into some sections of the Sephardic Jewish community, even as they disdained the latter’s ancient religious and cultural practices.

Zionism’s other long-time antagonist is also an old acquaintance that now appears in a new guise and has been renamed post-Zionism. In the early years of the twentieth century, Communists, Trotskyites, and related political groups waged ideological war against Zionism (including left-wing Zionism) because of what they termed its reactionary, imperialist, and colonialist character. The Jews, they believed, had no right to a state of their own because this could be achieved only by expelling another people who were already living on the land they claimed as their own. Zionists were either being dishonest or deluding themselves when they described Palestine as a “land without people.” But the Zionists had never sincerely argued this, and Arabs do appear in Herzl’s
Altneuland.
When Herzl convened the first Zionist Congress in 1897 the inhabitants of Palestine numbered approximately 500,000 and included, in addition to Jews (approximately eight percent of the population) and Muslims, Christian Arabs, Greeks, Armenians, and members of other ethnic and religious groups. Perhaps Herzl might be forgiven for assuming that the presence of a few hundred thousand people did not present an insurmountable obstacle to his plans. The 1896 edition of Baedeker’s
Guide to Vienna
gives the number of the inhabitants of the city in which Herzl lived as 1,364,500; in other words, the non-Jewish residents of Palestine totaled a little more than one-third of the population of the Austrian capital. The next sentence in Baedeker’s guide helps to explain why the idea of Zionism occurred to Herzl in the first place. The stated population figures, it says, “includ[e] 118,000 Jews and 22,651 soldiers.” There lived in Vienna at the time tens of thousands of Poles, Czechs, Croats, Hungarians, Italians, and Slovenians, among numerous other national groups. But only the Jews received special mention; perhaps they were thought to be transients, like the soldiers mentioned along with them.

Marxism went out of intellectual fashion in the last quarter of the twentieth century, but the impulses underlying it did not. Hence the appearance of new socio-political concepts, such as post-colonialism, of which post-Zionism is an offshoot. (The actual term “post-Zionism” is, of course, value free; it appears on the first page of the preface to the first edition of this book, which was published well before contemporary Israeli post-Zionists arrived on the scene.) The contemporary post-Zionists belong to a generation of Israeli academics that has never personally experienced anti-Semitism, for whom the Holocaust is not a real historical experience, who did not have to face the danger of destruction and to flee Europe to save their lives. Their rejection of Zionism (and frequently also of Israel) is, nevertheless, psychologically understandable as a rebellion against their parents’ and grandparents’ generations.

The post-Zionists’ deconstruction of Zionist ideology resulted in a number of discoveries that they considered to be of great importance. They found that many of the stories taught in school and based on the Old Testament were not rooted in fact but in mythology. It was not a certainty that the Israelites had ever lived in Egypt or crossed the Red Sea, and Joshua’s trumpet had in all probability not caused the crumbling of the walls of Jericho. King David’s kingdom had not been a major nation but was most likely a small principality; and there was even some doubt as to whether or not King David had ever really existed. In their enthusiasm, these post-Zionists tended to forget that the origins of every religion—indeed, of any nation from ancient Greece and Rome onward—is not grounded in historical fact but, rather, is shrouded in myth. Testing their theories against more recent historical events, they now doubt whether the mortally wounded Yosef Trumpeldor ever said at Tel Hai that it was good to die for one’s country. Sometimes their arguments were inconsistent: on the one hand they maintain that the Zionists should never have settled in Palestine in the first place, but at the same time they blame them for not having done enough to save European Jewry during World War II. According to them, Zionists persuaded Jewish displaced persons to move on to Palestine after World War II even though the refugees were reluctant to do so. During Israel’s War of Independence, Zionists had not treated Palestinian Arabs with sufficient humanity but, instead, either directly or indirectly engineered the expulsion of hundreds of thousands of them from their villages and then either occupied or destroyed their homes.

Academicians engaging in post-colonial studies were not many in number, but they influenced Israeli society and educational policy to the extent that the latest crop of Israeli schoolbooks included a picture of Gamal Abdul Nasser but not one of David Ben Gurion. The problem with post-Zionism was not that its premises were incorrect, but that what was correct was not new, and what was new was not correct. Post-Zionists seemed to be unwilling to acknowledge the fact (and here they deviated from Marxists, who were far more realistic in this respect) that no nation has ever come into being by friendly persuasion or through a legal contract. Nation-states are rarely born without violence. They have from time immemorial produced innocent victims, and there is no reason to assume that the birth of an Israeli nation would be any different in this respect.

This book is a history of Zionism, not of the State of Israel and even less of the ongoing Israeli-Arab conflict. But the conflict cannot be ignored, for it has had a considerable effect on both pre- and post-1948 Zionist ideology. Palestinian Arabs were deprived of a country of their own as a result of the establishment of Israel, but many Israelis found it difficult to look at the situation from their point of view: Did they not live better than before? Was their lot not preferable to that of Arabs in Israel’s neighboring countries? The Palestinian Arabs, on the other hand, failed to understand that their misfortune was at least in part of their own doing, since they had rejected the initial idea of establishing a single bi-national state in Mandatory Palestine, and then went on to reject all other suggested two-state compromises.

It was the misfortune of Zionism that its ancient homeland should be located in the middle of a particularly troubled part of the world, one that has shown in modern times a particular ineptitude in establishing democratic societies and in making social and economic progress. The travails, the frustrations, the resentments of the people of the Muslim and Arab world are well known and need not be discussed in detail here. The very existence of a Jewish state within this world is seen by these people as a provocation, and it is not surprising that Israel has borne the brunt of much of their rage and frustration.

It is more than doubtful that a conflict between Israelis and Palestinians could have been prevented, given the fact that two peoples were claiming the same land. But far from trying to defuse the conflict and prevent its spread, Israeli policy has often added fuel to it, thus increasing the dangers confronting the state. Prior to 1967 there was nothing for Israel to discuss with its Arab neighbors because they rejected the very existence of Israel. But after the Six-Day War Israel was in a position to make concessions; it waited for Arab initiatives that never came. But why should it have surrendered the occupied territories in the West Bank and Gaza if the Arabs were still unwilling to make peace? For the simple reason that Israel could not indefinitely impose its rule over so many people who did not want to live in a Jewish state and at the same time maintain the democratic character of the country. Establishing Jewish settlements in the middle of a hostile Arab population was not an answer; on the contrary, it aggravated the problem. Sooner or later the settlements would have to be given up, and the longer this was delayed, the more painful it was going to be. The second sin of omission concerned the Arab citizens of Israel. There is no certainty that they would have become Israeli patriots if they had been given full equality, or even if preferential treatment had been given to them. But only a halfhearted attempt was made to integrate them into Israeli society, and there were too many promises that were not fulfilled.

The question of Jerusalem illustrates best the enormous difference between historical Zionism and the ideology that has replaced it. Jerusalem contains the holy places of three world religions, and elementary prudence if not basic tolerance should have prevented declarations according to which Jerusalem was to remain forever undivided under Israeli rule. It was in any case an empty declaration, for in actual fact Jerusalem is of course a divided city. When Herzl first visited Jerusalem he saw only the musty deposits of two thousand years of inhumanity, intolerance, and impurity; he perceived superstition and fanaticism on all sides. It was not surprising that he suggested Haifa as the capital of the new Jewish state. But it was not only Herzl, the assimilated Jew, who reacted in this unsentimental manner. Chaim Weizmann always feared becoming involved in the Jerusalem imbroglio. And because their emotional attachment to the city was not overwhelming, David Ben Gurion and other leaders of the second aliya did not visit Jerusalem for the first time until two or three years after their arrival in the country. For many years not a single pre-state Zionist leader chose to live in Jerusalem. For them, Jerusalem symbolized the negative past of Jewish history, that part of the tradition from which they wanted to disassociate themselves. The idea that Jerusalem was the beginning and the end of Zionism, that Israel could not exist without having full sovereignty over the entire city, emerged only after 1967 and with the growth of a religious fanaticism and aggressive nationalism that had more in common with the ideology of the Muslim Brotherhood than the founding fathers of Zionism.

And so, guarding the holy sites has become a nightmare and Jerusalem itself has become a dangerous flashpoint. The insanity of a few religious fanatics—Jewish, Muslim, or Christian—has the potential for transforming a local conflict into a religious war with incalculable consequences.

International opposition to Zionism reached a new climax in June 1975 with United Nations Resolution 3379, which equated Zionism with racism. This resolution was revoked after a decade, but the attitude underlying it did not change. At the United Nations World Conference Against Racism, which was held in Durban, South Africa, in the fall of 2001, Zionism was placed at the top of the list of obstacles to human rights. Israel’s occupation and settlement of the West Bank and Gaza plays into the hands of those who are opposed to the very existence of a Jewish state, and it is used by them not only to delegitimize the State of Israel, but for other, more nefarious purposes. If in the decades after World War II blatant anti-Semitism has gone out of fashion, anti-Zionism has become an acceptable, politically correct outlet for it. Within Israel the temptation is great to blame all its woes on an anti-Semitic world that has never been in favor of its existence. But, to a considerable extent, the fault lies within Israel itself: the mistakes it has made, its shortsightedness, its failure to accept the fact that it is a small nation that must make compromises to survive in a region full of hostile, powerful neighbors. The Jewish genius has manifested itself over the centuries in many areas, but political wisdom has not been among them. This is perhaps the inevitable result of having been deprived for two thousand years of the experience and the responsibility of political statehood, but it is vitally needed now, as Israel and, indeed, the world as a whole face a new period of unprecedented danger.

Walter Laqueur
Washington, D.D.,
January 2003

PREFACE

The term Zionism was first used publicly by Nathan Birnbaum at a discussion meeting in Vienna on the evening of 23 January 1892.
*
The history of political Zionism begins with the publication of Herzl’s
Judenstaat
four years later and the first Zionist congress. But the Zionist idea antedates the name and the organisation. Herzl had precursors in Germany, Russia, and in other countries, whose writings reflected the longing for the ancient homeland, the anomaly of Jewish existence in central and eastern Europe, and the need to find a solution to the ‘Jewish question’.

The emergence of Zionism in the 1880s and 1890s can be understood only against the general background of European and Jewish history since the French Revolution on one hand, and the spread of modern antisemitism on the other. The present book starts with a discussion of the European background of Zionism, covers the prehistory of the movement and five decades of Zionist activities, and ends with the establishment of the state in May 1948, the turning-point in the history of the movement. It is debatable whether there is a history of Zionism beyond 1948, and not only because many of its functions have been taken over by the state of Israel. Before the word ‘Zionism’ became generally accepted, the term
Palestinofilstvo (Hibat Zion)
was widely used in Russia. A similar term, Philisraelism, may well provide an accurate definition of the present, post-Zionist, phase. Even if my assumption should be wrong – periodisation being a risky business – a good case can still be made, I think, for ending this history of Zionism in 1948.

Long as this book is, I was aware from the beginning that a full, detailed history of Zionism was not only beyond my capacity but also, most probably, beyond the tolerance of the non-specialist reader, not to mention the publisher. Zionism, a worldwide movement, consisted of dozens of federations and political parties. To do justice even to the more important among them an entire library of monographs would be needed. The abundance of published and unpublished material does not make the task of the historian any easier. The shelves of the Zionist Archives in Jerusalem extend for two miles; for every Zionist past or present there is a book, or at least an article in a periodical, or several issues of a newspaper. The present writer had to be selective in his approach and concentrate on what he considered the main lines of development.

This volume, with all its limitations and imperfections, is the first comprehensive history in English on a comparable scale. Of the two major histories written previously, Sokolow’s comes only to the end of the First World War and is devoted largely to the precursors of political Zionism, while Böhm’s
Zionistische Bewegung
, to which every work on the subject is greatly indebted, stops in the mid-1920s (it has never been translated). These books, as well as some others much briefer (such as Israel Cohen’s surveys), were written by leading Zionists. They bear witness to the commitment of the writers; their very involvement is their main source of strength. A history of Zionism written now must be more than a labour of love; it should not proselytise but must ask searching questions if it is to be faithful to the truth of history.

In some respects it is easier now to write with detachment of past quarrels, and there are always the benefits of hindsight. But there are also difficulties which my predecessors did not have to face. Some of them are of a methodological character: up to 1917 the history of the Zionist movement presents no particular problems; it is the story of a somewhat eccentric movement of young idealists who met every other year at a congress and espoused various political, financial, cultural, and colonising activities. But after the Balfour Declaration at the latest, the issue becomes much more confusing: there was still the Zionist movement, more widespread and influential than before, but there was also the Jewish community of Palestine growing in numbers and strength. It may be possible to write the story of Palestine in the Mandatory era without constant reference to the Zionist movement, but it is quite impossible to do the reverse. Within Zionism, too, the situation became more complicated with each year after 1917, as new parties and factions appeared, and some of them broke away from the world movement. Up to the Balfour Declaration the most useful approach is the chronological; after that date this becomes difficult, sometimes impossible. I have tried to deal with these difficulties in my own way. There may be other and better methods, but I could not think of one.

Most of this book is based on material published by, about, or against the Zionist movement in the various
linguae francae
in which these discussions were conducted: German, Russian, Yiddish, Hebrew, and English. The Zionists were a talkative tribe; no secret could be kept for long – all of them can be found somewhere in the books and journals. Through the last decade of events described in this volume I lived in Palestine, watching events and sometimes the
dramatis personae
from a close angle. This provided a certain perspective and, I believe, understanding: which is difficult to acquire from the study of archives alone. This personal element should be mentioned, for without it I probably would have lacked the incentive to write this book in the first place. I had the opportunity to discuss some of the events described here with veterans of the Zionist movement; to all of them I am grateful; one of them in particular, Robert Weltsch, has been of great help throughout. These discussions did not yield many startling new revelations, but they made for a better understanding of the metapolitics of a movement that had many facets to its character, in addition to the purely political one. I have on a few occasions made reference to unpublished material, with regard to some aspects of Zionist history which have not yet been adequately studied. But this hardly affects the general picture as it can be pieced together from generally accessible sources.

A preface is not the ideal place for the author’s credo; my thoughts on the subject emerge from the following pages. The question whether Zionism was a good or a bad idea is discussed in this book, but it is not the only nor indeed the central question which has preoccupied me; it is of undoubted historical interest, and on a philosophical level the debate may well continue for a long time. This study is not, however, an exercise in the philosophy of history; it deals with the fate of a sorely tried people and their attempt to normalise their status, to escape persecution, and to regain dignity in their own eyes and in the eyes of the world. Perhaps they were wrong in pursuing this aim; perhaps their efforts were bound to create new and intractable problems. However, several decades ago Zionism moved out of the realm of the history of ideas, good, bad, or indifferent, into the field of action. It has resulted in the birth of a nation, to the joy of some and the distress of others.

It was my intention to provide a truthful account of the origins and development of one of the most embattled movements in recent history. Since I do not believe that historical truth is likely to be located somewhere in the middle between two extremes, I have not tried to disguise my own position and am aware that others may not necessarily share my views. It is, I believe, a truthful account, in the sense that I have not knowingly suppressed historical evidence and that I have tried to discuss dispassionately views which are not my own and actions which I deplore.

The apologetic character of Jewish historiography has traditionally been one of its main weaknesses. Zionism has been instrumental in changing this. Some of the most critical comments on Jewish history have emanated from Zionist ranks and, on the other hand, some of the most bitter attacks on Zionism have come from Jewish critics. I did not feel particularly self-conscious in writing this book; I did not take as my motto ‘Tell it not in Gath, publish it not in the streets of Askelon’. On the other hand, I make no claim to Olympian impartiality. When Acton launched the
Cambridge Modern History
, he told his contributors that ‘our Waterloo must satisfy French and English, German and Dutch alike’. Few critics would agree that this aim has been achieved, and I suspect that such a history of Zionism will be written, if ever, only when the subject has ceased to be of topical interest.

I would like to express my thanks to the Deutsche Forschungsgemeinschaft for a research grant to study the history of German Zionism, to Mr Meyer Weisgal and to the John Simon Guggenheim Memorial Foundation for a fellowship. Dr Benjamin Eliav guided me along the highways and byways of the history of revisionism but the views expressed on this as on other issues are, for better or worse, my own. Mrs Jane Degras, old friend and stern critic, read the manuscript, and I have benefited, as so often before, from her editorial skill and experience.

London-Jerusalem
1971

*
Strictly speaking the term had already appeared in print on a few occasions in 1890/1 without, however, any clear political connotation.