A History of Zionism (25 page)

*
Ibid.
, p. 17.

*
Ibid.
, pp. 131-4.

*
Alex Bein,
Theodor Herzl
, p. 242.

*
Complete Diaries
, vol. 2, p. 644.

*
Ibid.
, p. 769.

*
The Diaries
, p. 302.

†
Ibid.
, p. 325.

*
Ibid.
, p. 330.

*
Stenographisches Protokoll der Verhandlungen des IV. Zionisten Kongresses in London.
Vienna, 1900, p. 100.

*
The Letters and Papers of Chaim Weizmann
, vol. I, London 1968, p. 137; Dr I. Klausner,
Oppositzia leHerzl
, Jerusalem, 1958, p. 80; Ben Elieser,
Die Judenfrage und der sozialistische Judenstaat
, Berne, 1898;
Manifesto to Jewish Youth
, London, 1901, p. 16.

*
The Diaries
, p. 333.

*
Ibid.
, p. 350.

*
Complete Diaries
, vol. 4, p. 1321.

*
The Diaries
, p. 231.

*
Ibid.
, p. 367.

*
Ibid.
, p. 374.

*
Complete Diaries
, vol. 4, p. 1449.

†
The Diaries
, p. 385.

*
Complete Diaries
, vol. 4, p. 1501.

*
Boehm,
Die Zionistische Bewegung
, vol. I, p. 256;
Protokolle des Sechsten Kongresses
, p. 82.

*
Trial and Error
, p. 82.

†
The Diaries
, p. 404.

*
The letter was first published in
Die Welt
, 29 August, 1903.

†
Quoted in Bein,
Theodor Herzl
, p. 455.

*
Jüdische Rundschau
, no. 33, 1903, p. 412.

†
Stenographisches Protokoll der Verhandlungen des VI. Zionistenkongresses
, Vienna, 1903, p. 340.

*
The Diaries
, p. 424.

*
Dr E.E. Zweig, in
Theodor Herzl Jahrbuch
, Vienna, 1937, p. 283.

*
Ludwig Lewisohn, in
Herzl Yearbook
, vol. 3, New York, 1960, p. 274.

†
Henry J. Cohn, ‘Theodor Herzl’s conversion to Zionism,’ in
Jewish Social Studies
, April 1970, p. 101
et seq.

*
‘Disappointed in marriage, bereft of his dearest friends, Herzl’s emotional life in the Paris years was thus more than usually impoverished. It may help to explain his readiness to abandon his aloofness from the social world, to identify himself heart and soul with a wider cause. The Jewish body social became a collective love object to him as he returned to a fostering mother he had never adequately recognised.’ Thus Professor Schorske, following the inspiration of Norman O. Orown (
Journal of Modern History
, December 1967, p. 375). The same writer maintains that Herzl sketched out his dream of the Jewish secession from Europe after attending a performance of
Tannhaeuser
, ‘exalted, in a fever of enthusiasm akin to possession’, with Wagner as the ‘vindicator of the heart against the head’ (
ibid.
, pp. 377–8).

4
THE INTERREGNUM

After Herzl’s death it was widely thought that the Zionist movement was at the end of its tether. The movement was his creation; what united its members was above all loyalty to the leader. He had been both president and prophet, and there was no leader in sight able to inspire similar enthusiasm and confidence. If even Herzl’s position had been somewhat shaky during the last two years of his life, if there had been many attacks and bitter criticism, how much less likely was another leader to succeed in holding the movement together. At the time of his death it was only too transparent that his policy, the diplomatic approaches in Constantinople and various European capitals, had failed. The Uganda debate was still unresolved; moreover caucuses, factions, even separate parties, were gradually emerging within the Zionist movement. It was perhaps an inevitable process, but it made the position of the president, who no longer had a secure basis of support, almost impossible. If a second Herzl were to arise, one of his closest collaborators wrote a year after his death, he would be crushed in the struggle between the various factions.
*

Above all there was the problem of Russian Zionism. The Russians admittedly had contributed more to the movement than any other federation, but under the tsarist régime Zionism was only semi-legal. Russian Jews had no influence whatever on their own, let alone on other governments, nor had they international connections or diplomatic experience. The leadership of the movement had to be in the hands of western Jews, however deeply these were distrusted by the Russian Zionists. But central and west European Zionists were at a loss as to the future direction of the movement. Until then Herzl had provided most of the ideas, but even his closest collaborators had little doubt that the revered leader had been a failure, despite his genius, energy and devotion. When the question of publishing Herzl’s diaries came up not long after his death, Nordau spoke out against it in the most emphatic terms: You will ruin Herzl’s name if you publish his diaries. Whoever reads them is bound to believe that he was a fool and a swindler.
*

The seventh Zionist congress, held in Basle in late July 1905, had to take a decision about the Uganda project. It was, not unexpectedly, rejected, which led to tumultuous scenes and to the exodus of the Territorialists under Zangwill, as also of some east European left-wing groups, including leading Zionists such as Syrkin. The congress also had to elect a new leader. This was not just a question of finding a suitable personality; there was widespread demand for a policy reorientation. The Russian Zionists under Ussishkin, but also some others, had argued for a number of years that Herzl’s secret diplomacy had led nowhere and that until political conditions for a charter were ripe the main emphasis should be on practical work, on establishing new agricultural settlements, and, in general, on strengthening the Jewish presence in Palestine. Herzl had opposed this approach of the Lovers of Zion for more than two decades without any marked success. He envisaged the colonisation of Palestine on a grand scale, but this was quite impossible without prior political agreement with the Turks. The investment of money and manpower in small-scale colonisation meant not only squandering the scanty resources of the movement: it left the Jewish settlers defenceless, hostages in the hands of the Turks.

Herzl was adamant on this: ‘Not a single man, not a single penny for this country, until the minimum of privileges, of guarantees, has been granted.’
†
Nordau, Bodenheimer, Marmorek and other members of Herzl’s inner circle shared this view. The movement had to wait until a political constellation arose inside Turkey in which negotiations for a charter would be more promising. Until then all the projects for largescale colonisation would have to be postponed. But there were many others favouring practical work (
Gegenwartsarbeit
) as an alternative. This slogan encompassed both small-scale settlement in Palestine and the strengthening of the movement in the diaspora. The ‘practicians’ were not in principle opposed to diplomacy, but they anticipated that gradual concessions were more likely to be won than a comprehensive charter; the stronger the Jewish presence, the easier it would be to obtain concessions.

A compromise resolution was eventually passed by the seventh congress to the effect that while rejecting philanthropic, small-scale colonisation, lacking plan and system, the Zionist movement was to work for strengthening the Jewish position in Palestine in agriculture and industry (‘in as democratic a spirit as possible’). A new executive was elected, consisting of three advocates of practical Zionism (Professor Warburg, Ussishkin, and Kogan-Bernstein), as well as three political Zionists (Leopold Greenberg, Jacobus Kann, and Alexander Marmorek). The president of this body, of the Inner Action Committee and of the movement, was David Wolffsohn, who declared somewhat prematurely in his concluding speech that the crisis was over.
*

Wolffsohn and his Critics

David Wolffsohn was forty-nine when he took up the post, an old man in a movement consisting predominantly of young people. Born in Lithuania, not far from the German border, he had received a traditional Jewish education, entered the timber trade, and made a huge success of the firm which he established in Cologne. A Lover of Zion since his youth, his interest in things Jewish had never flagged, and he had been one of Herzl’s earliest supporters. Herzl had called him ‘the best’, the one practical man among hundreds of dilettanti, had regarded him as his successor, and had asked him in his testament to take care of his family. Herzl’s way of transacting business had frequently driven Wolffsohn to despair, and it was generally expected that Wolffsohn’s past and experience would make him gravitate towards ‘practical Zionism’. But it was precisely his business acumen and, of course, his loyalty to Herzl which made him continue the tradition of political Zionism. The same was true of Jacobus Kann, the other businessman in the new executive. As he saw it, large-scale investment without political guarantees was a doubtful proposition.

Wolffsohn genuinely did not want to be the new leader. He went to Paris to persuade Nordau to accept the succession, and when he was called by his interlocutor the ‘only possible choice’, he countered by saying that surely Nordau was out of his mind.
†
He accepted the nomination only under general pressure, with even the Russian Zionists supporting him. He knew of course that there would be a great deal of opposition. The Russians thought him well-meaning and devoted, generous and hard-working, but ‘without personality or vision - he did his best to imitate his ideal, Herzl, but he had neither Herzl’s personality nor his organising ability’.
*
‘All our European visitors had the same story to tell about Wolffsohn’, Louis Lipsky relates: he was said to be a man of ordinary education, without ability, without judgment, lacking dynamism and the capacity for leadership, who did not understand the Herzlian ideal of which he professed to be a disciple.
†

Such criticism was grossly unfair; Wolffsohn was by no means an amiable half-wit. As an organiser at any rate he was superior to Herzl. He was certainly not an intellectual, and he had no grand design, no major new ideas to offer. But his common-sense provided on many occasions a necessary counterweight to the fantasies of other early Zionists. David Frischman, the Hebrew writer who was present as an observer at the ninth Zionist congress, wrote that Wolffsohn behaved like the only adult person in an unruly kindergarten.
‡
The obstruction tactics of the Russian Zionists would have made more sense if they had had an alternative candidate for the leadership. But Ussishkin did not get along with Chlenov, Weizmann did not think highly of Motzkin, and Sokolow, a Polish Jew, had little support among his colleagues from further east. If no political successes were achieved during the years after Herzl’s death, it was simply because of adverse circumstances: ‘Even a cleverer man would have achieved nothing.’
§
Herzl had established the organisational framework, he had given fresh hope to hundreds of thousands of Jews, and he had put Zionism on the European political map. But the public relations aspect apart, however important that may have been, there was no tangible achievement. Herzl had failed to persuade the Turks or to win decisive support among the powers. There was little his successor could do other than strengthen the movement and wait for a more favourable international constellation.

Wolffsohn did not neglect the contacts established by Herzl. He visited Rothschild in Paris and was slightly more successful than his predecessor in gaining at least some measure of platonic support. He met Vambery, and in 1908 decided to send Victor Jacobson, a Russian Zionist and Ussishkin’s brother-in-law, to act as the permanent representative of the executive in the Turkish capital. Wolffsohn went twice to Constantinople. The intention of the first visit was to induce the Turkish authorities to revoke the ban on Jewish immigration and to establish a combined Turkish-Jewish immigration committee. His visit in October 1907 coincided with a new Turkish financial crisis. Wolffsohn was, in fact, half invited by the government.

A plan was submitted to the Turks under which fifty thousand Jewish families were to settle in Palestine, but not in Jerusalem. They were to become Ottoman subjects and serve in the army, but would be exempt from taxation for twenty-five years. Land would be acquired by the Zionist executive and remain its property.
*
The Turks wanted a loan of £26 million to consolidate their debt. Wolffsohn countered with an offer of £2 million, but this too was a somewhat foolhardy gesture, apparently not expected to be taken up, for the annual budget of the executive at the time was £4,000, about as much as a wealthy British or German Jew would spend yearly on the upkeep of his family. Wolffsohn was faced by insistent demands from Herzl’s old agents, like Izzet Bey for instance, who asked for one million francs for services rendered, such as the revocation of the ban on immigration. Wolffsohn distrusted them even more than had Herzl. When the Turkish authorities intimated that a gesture of goodwill on their part could be expected only after the Zionists had made the first move, Wolffsohn countered by saying that he could do nothing unless the Turks took the initiative. While the bargaining was still going on, the Young Turks staged their revolution and the sultan was deposed.

The changes in Turkey aroused enthusiasm among the Zionists. ‘If Herzl had lived to this day’, Nordau said at a meeting in Paris, ‘he would have been overjoyed and said: “This is my charter!” ’
†
The overthrow of the absolutist régime and the democratic manifestos issued by the Young Turks, the fact that they appeared in some degree willing to meet the demands of the minorities in the Ottoman empire, were interpreted as the opening of a new era. Many Zionists were overoptimistic in this respect. Whatever declarations about decentralisation were made in the first flush of excitement, the Young Turks had not the slightest intention to liquidate the empire. They were more, not less nationalistic than Abdul Hamid, and the chances of obtaining a charter were in fact worse than before. It was therefore quite mistaken to argue (as some Zionists did) that their leaders were missing a great opportunity in not showing more initiative in the Turkish capital.

Wolffsohn was doubtful from the very beginning whether it was worthwhile to negotiate with the Young Turks. This was also Jacobson’s appraisal of the situation: ‘There is no one to talk to.’
*
In March 1909 a new coup took place in the Turkish capital which strengthened Wolffsohn in his belief that his original assessment of the political situation had been correct. In June 1909 he discussed Zionist aims with Husain Hilmi Pasha, the grand vizir, but there was no progress. Colonisation in Palestine on a large scale was ruled out by the Turks, and the ban on immigration, which meanwhile had been reimposed, would not be lifted. Nordau had returned from Constantinople with misgivings a little earlier, but this was even worse. Stalemate was complete and negotiations with the Turks ceased for the next two years.

In the circumstances Wolffsohn was reluctant to put any concrete suggestions on paper, since he was fairly sure that they would be rejected. But he had not given up all hope. Like Jacobson, he was still basically a ‘Turkey-firster’, believing that Constantinople held the key. Jacobson once said that even a very weak Turkey was much stronger than the Jews in Palestine and the Zionist movement backing them. At the same time Wolffsohn was reluctant to invest too much in political work in the Turkish capital. The idea of financing a daily newspaper (
Jeune Turc
) did not at first appeal to him, and the project was carried out mainly through the support of the Russian Zionists, who better realised its potential importance.
†

Jacobson was worried by the lack of coordination among the Jewish organisations active in Constantinople. Not only the Zionists negotiated with the Turks, but also the Alliance Israélite; and later on Dr Nossig became a frequent visitor. Nossig, an early Zionist, had left the movement when his schemes for Jewish colonisation in the Ottoman empire – outside Palestine – had been rejected. A gifted but erratic man, he was at one and the same time writer, sculptor, political scientist, historian, statistician, philosopher, and playwright. Some thought him a well-meaning dilettante, others a dangerous charlatan.
‡
Born in Galicia, he became a German patriot and apparently worked for German intelligence during the First World War. Thereafter he was a leading pacifist. He was executed, at the age of almost eighty, by the Jewish resistance in the Warsaw ghetto on the suspicion, possibly mistaken, that he was a Gestapo agent.