In Kiev, Jewish philanthropic institutions were often planned as "model" hospitals, clinics, and schools. In many cases, participants in the undertaking or observers drew an overt comparison between the new institution and existing ones based on traditional models of Jewish welfare. There were several goals at work here. Activists were eager to show the surrounding society that Jews were not, as prevailing stereotypes portrayed them, backward and primitive, but rather were in the forefront of progress and scientific achievements. Moreover, their model institutions contributed not only to the wellbeing of Jews, but to that of the city as a whole, and even of the empire. Integral to this project was an attempt to transform Jewish institutions and, through them, Jews themselves. Clearly inherent in this new Jewish image was the hope for acceptance by Russian society, though many of those involved genuinely desired to create a new, healthy, educated Russian Jewry and were less concerned about the approval of the Christian world. Kiev was the ideal place to set such a project in motion: unlike St. Petersburg and Moscow, both city and hinterland had significant numbers of poor and sick Jews in need of relief; unlike Odessa, it was a particular object of national scrutiny because of its historical and religious significance.
In an overview of the hospital's history written in 1913—far removed from the actual events but possibly still reflective of the motivations of the original actors—chief doctor Petr Timofeevich Neishtube wrote that after slow growth in the first years, the institution began to develop more rapidly as it strove to maintain a position for itself among the city's other hospitals and clinics. The number of staff physicians rose, and professors from St. vladimir University were invited as consultants, "but nonetheless the hospital had still not attained the physiognomy and character of a clinic: it could not yet free itself from the disposition [poriadki ] and character which were reminiscent of the pre-reform 'gekdysh' hospitals."43 The reference is to the hekdesh, a combination of poorhouse, old-age home, and primitive hospital that often served as a stand-in for a medical clinic in traditional Jewish communities. As Neishtube describes it, the trustees were not simply engaged in building up a hospital, but were also exorcising demons, as it were: though no hekdesh existed in the post-1861 period of Jewish settlement in Kiev, somehow the specter of the hekdesh continued to haunt the city's Jews. We can safely state that the hospital officers harbored no nostalgia about traditional Jewish welfare and viewed their institution as an opportunity for a new, thoroughly modern start.
Their anxiety to avoid replicating familiar Jewish models was exacerbated by the desire to have the Jewish Hospital measure up to the non-Jewish medical institutions in Kiev, which it could never do, they felt, as long as it was housed in rented premises. Reflecting the arduous and lengthy negotiations that led to the purchase of land for the hospital in 1885, Neishtube wrote,
Over the course of twenty-three years, from 1862 to 1885, the hospital leaders continued their difficult work, doggedly pursuing one goal, one secret dream: to have their own building for the hospital. . . . a building constructed to the requirements of medical science, satisfying hygienic and sanitary precepts. . . . in their own building it would be possible to achieve everything.44
The goal of "their own building" symbolized the independence of the hospital from the Jewish past, personified by the unsanitary hekdesh, and the creation of a modern, scientific institution. The new building signified a break with the old Jewish past—including its legacy of rightlessness—for in this new context, Jewish accomplishments would not be limited: "everything" could be achieved.
The dedications of the hospital's new wings and wards, of which there was one every few years after the opening of the new building in 1885, were opportunities to show off the hospital, with the latest scientific and technological advances, to Russian society; to educate the Jewish public about modern medicine; and even to model an exemplary way of life for Russian Jews. That Neishtube described the hospital as "a small town" was no coincidence: far from the crowds and bustle of the city, the forty-acre hospital compound with its numerous wards and auxiliary structures (a chapel was added in 1902) could indeed be considered a kind of model community.45 In 1891, on the occasion of the dedication of the new convalescent ward, an article in Ha-melits explained the ward's purpose and functioning to readers who had never before heard of a special establishment for recuperating patients. The account gave a detailed description of the many amenities of the ward, and depicted its ideal setting, looking out onto the beauty of nature with fresh breezes blowing in from all sides.46 This was a far cry from the typical hekdesh with its mean, unsanitary conditions (the Yiddish adjective hekdeshdik actually means soiled or dingy).
Not only were Jews to feel pride in their model institution, but Kiev's Christians were also welcomed to the hospital, following the model of Israel Brodsky's pioneering endowment for Jewish and Christian students. The treatment of Christian patients at a Jewish hospital was a novelty in the Russian Empire, as attested to by the fact that contemporaries frequently stressed the "trust" or "faith" that the Christians had in the institution. In the first half of 1894, more than 40 percent of outpatient division patients were Orthodox Christians.47 Indeed, during the cholera epidemic of the early 1890s, the city council requested the hospital's assistance in countering the outbreak and, according to one witness, "many non-Jews streamed to it in full faith."48 Not only had the hospital officers succeeded in elevating their institution to the level of the other hospitals in Kiev, but the Sanitary Commission pronounced the hospital's cholera wing the best in the city and noted that many Christians stricken with cholera only consented to be hospitalized on the condition that they be admitted to the Jewish Hospital.49 In 1895,
Kiev's chief medical inspector called the hospital a model establishment serving both Jews and Christians, "who have complete trust in the institution."50 The hospital was gaining a reputation for excellence not only within Kiev, but even throughout the empire; for example, the hospital was the first in the country outside of the two capitals to attempt a pioneering operation to correct a hunchback.51 The hospital's admirable physical plant and extensive resources likely induced envy among some; an article in the Judeophobic Novoe vremia called the "beautiful" Jewish Hospital "the envy of the wretched neighboring Christian hospital."52 According to the 1891 charter, all patients were to receive room, board, linens, hospital garments, and even shoes at no cost during their stay.53
Israel Brodsky's decision to build (or purchase and renovate—the sources are unclear) a bathhouse and ritual bath (mikvah) in Podol at the same time as the hospital may also have reflected the attempt by acculturated Jews to cultivate and "civilize" their coreligionists—raising their quality of life and thus bringing them closer to a European-Russian lifestyle—while at the same time assisting them in maintaining Jewish observance. The bathhouse was supposed to serve as a source of supplemental income for the hospital, but the new facility was, according to one contemporary, also intended to encourage women who had stopped visiting the old, dirty mikvah to resume the observance of the menstrual purity laws. Surely the new institution, located in a heavily Jewish neighborhood, was also designed to raise the general level of cleanliness of Kiev Jewry.54
A second model Jewish public health institution was the free surgical clinic established by Yonah (lonna) Zaitsev in honor of the wedding of Tsar Nicholas II and Alexandra in 1894. In addition to the 30,000 rubles that he donated to build the clinic, Zaitsev granted the plot of land on which it would be constructed. The institution was specifically intended to serve the needy of all religions and estates, and would be open year round to help fill the gap in service created when most of Kiev's hospitals closed for the summer, when the city filled with pilgrims and migrant workers. Moreover, the clinic's central location in Podol made it much more convenient for most Kiev residents than the distant Jewish Hospital.55 Like the Jewish Hospital, it was equipped with the most up-to-date equipment, including sterilization apparatus for surgical instruments. Tellingly, the establishment was to be governed by a committee consisting of Zaitsev (and his descendants after him), the chief doctor, and a representative of donors to the clinic to be chosen by the city council.56 Thus, at both the Jewish Hospital and the Zaitsev Clinic the most prominent patrons (Brodsky and Zaitsev) were granted a role in the governance of the institution in perpetuity. Zaitsev also created a 36,000-ruble trust, the income of which was to maintain the clinic, thus ensuring that his name would continue to be linked with the institution for decades to come.
World History
