As Derek Penslar has suggested, modern Jewish philanthropy must be examined not only in the context of traditions of Jewish charity but also "within the framework of the modernization of philanthropy on the Continent as a whole."1 The philanthropic and welfare institutions that Russian Jews developed in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries cannot be fully understood if they are seen simply as extensions of the ramified system of communal welfare that was at the core of the autonomous Jewish community in premodern Eastern Europe. The new Russian Jewish leadership that we examined in chapter 2 looked to new models for the provision of medical care, poor relief, and education not only because Russian law required them to care for their sick and indigent, but also as a tool in their effort to reform and modernize Russian Jewry; they hoped to shape a new, healthy, productive, and "cultivated" generation of Russian Jews. A rational and "scientific" system of philanthropy could bring order to the very chaotic world of Jewish charity. Heinz-Dietrich Lowe writes,
Jewish charity became transformed from an activity which dealt with ameliorating symptoms to one which aimed at changing the structural constraints which affected Jewish economic activity and would enable the impoverished elements of Jewish society to attain economic self-sufficiency.2
Charitable giving and communal welfare could also serve as political strategies to lobby for greater acceptance of Jews in Russian society. And finally, philanthropy was an ideal vehicle for the expression of a modern Jewish identity; Jews who felt uncomfortable relating to their Jewishness as religion or nationality were often much more at ease with the universalist and humanitarian conceptions of Judaism. In all of these, Russian Jews were perhaps a bit later chronologically but fundamentally no different from Jews in Western and Central Europe in their search for a modern ethos of Jewish charity. "The centrality of philanthropy as a source of collective Jewish identity is indeed a hallmark of modernity."3
A number of groups were involved in developing new forms of charitable work with the Jewish community: the wealthy notables; maskilim and
Their successors, the nationalist (and sometimes radical) intelligentsia; polu-intelligenty who rose from the proletariat to provide initiative and leadership for artisans' and workers' self-help organizations in the twentieth century; and women—who could be members of any of these groups and played an increasingly significant role in charity, especially private philanthropic organizations. Indeed, by creating a realm of independent, progressive philanthropic institutions, women played an important role in extending the boundaries of Jewish community and creating a Jewish public sphere that mirrored new developments in the larger Russian milieu.
Unlike the many other European states that developed welfare systems in the nineteenth century, the Russian Empire had neither an official welfare policy nor any organized system of public relief.4 As was the case in all of the cities of the Russian Empire, Kiev's poor were cared for by a patchwork of public and private institutions supported by the state, municipal government, and, above all, individual donors. Like all of Russian society, welfare was usually organized according to the social status, profession, nationality, and religion of the recipient, and it was thus natural for Jews to establish charitable societies to provide for their less fortunate coreligionists. Moreover, as we have seen, Russian legislation mandated that the proceeds of the kosher meat tax be used to care for the poor and the sick. At the beginning of our period, there were only a handful of welfare institutions in Kiev; by its conclusion, the city counted over 150 welfare institutions, including 30 children's shelters and orphanages, 23 societies to aid needy pupils, and 22 hospitals.5
As was the case in Western Europe, Jews in Kiev understood their philanthropic organizations as a means toward the end of integration into the surrounding society; it was hoped that institutions such as the Jewish Hospital would show Russians the true face of Judaism and Jews: caring for all, regardless of faith; forward-looking and progressive; helping to advance the country of which they were an integral part.6 Charity was also one of the few realms in which Jews could exert leadership in the public sphere, since Jewish political participation was restricted by the state (especially on the municipal level, where Jews lacked representation even after they had received the right to vote for the State Duma in 1906). and the "model institutions" they founded were indeed intended to be shining examples for the city, the region, and the entire empire: the Jewish Hospital was declared one of Kiev's finest; the Brodsky Trade School was patterned after the best educational institutions in Europe; the OPE's kindergarten adopted the latest pedagogical methods of Friedrich Frobel, its German educational reformer and founder of the kindergarten. Not coincidentally, this new Jewish welfare network bore a good deal of resemblance to similar networks emerging across Europe in London, Berlin, vienna, and other great cities with established Jewish communities and large influxes of Jewish migrants or immigrants. In all these places,
The philanthropists' motives combined humanitarianism and self-interest,
[as] trepidation about antisemitic reactions to the presence of vast pools of impoverished and unmistakably foreign Jews combined with a sincere concern for the welfare of Jews struggling to make ends meet and crowded into filthy and unsanitary slums.7
On a wider level, the institutions that Kiev's Jews created were nearly identical in their organization, goals, and methods to analogous hospitals, schools, shelters, and relief agencies then being established throughout the empire and elsewhere in Europe; more Russian (or European) than Jewish, the only thing they had in common with traditional Jewish brotherhoods or hevrot were some nomenclature choices, such as calling poor relief “Tmikhe.”8 The only differences, it seemed, were the kosher food and, in schools, the teaching of “Divine Law" (religion classes) in Judaism and not Christianity. Thus, the civil society that was developing throughout imperial Russia, and especially in its urban centers, was being replicated within Russian Jewish society as well.
A good example is the introduction of district committees for Passover relief by the Representation for Jewish Welfare in 1895, clearly modeled after Moscow's district guardianships (popechitel’stva), introduced in the 1880s. (As we shall see, a form of the popechitel’stvo model was put into use as early as 1881 by Kiev's Pogrom Aid Committee.) The evaluation of applicants on a case-by-case basis to determine their need and merit—a practice unknown in premodern Jewish charity—was a pillar of modern scientific philanthropy. It is no surprise, then, that some Kiev Jews protested this new development in the administration of welfare. Later, other Jewish welfare agencies also adopted the guardianship model.9
Paradoxically, however, the Jewish welfare system that many hoped would facilitate acceptance and integration helped to maintain the separateness of Jews from non-Jews.10 While it is true that some non-Jewish institutions did not serve Jews, by the early years of the twentieth century Jews could and did turn to general charities for various types of assistance.
For their part, Jewish benefactors could also participate in charitable giving outside the Jewish community. Nonetheless, the Jewish philanthropic sector expanded steadily, serving the material needs of growing numbers of Jewish poor as well as the social needs of the Jewish haute bourgeoisie. As Benjamin Nathans has noted in the case of St. Petersburg, philanthropy, in "new and large-scale forms," became "a defining communal activity."11 It also provided employment to increasing numbers of Jewish professionals, especially medical professionals (doctors, physicians' assistants, and midwives) and educators but also economists and statisticians. In this way, with every Jew playing a role, charity united the socioeconomically differentiated Jewish community as perhaps no other cause or activity could.
At the same time, however, it pointed up the differences between haves and have-nots, serving as a framework within which the wealthy and educated could attain prestige while wielding power over the less fortunate. Some tried to use this power to transform the poor in their own image into healthy, civilized, cultured Russian subjects, similar to the Bildungsburgertum that German Jews strove to become (perhaps in the Russian case it is more appropriate to speak of a "Bildungsproletariat"); as we saw in chapter 4, others seemed to want to petrify poor, uneducated Jews in their "traditional" roles, withholding progressive, secular education for the sake of the preservation of Judaism.12 A third way was to narrow the charitable focus to those with promise, since it was simply impossible to give any more than the most cursory assistance to all those in need; here, donors promised "productive assistance" to artisans who proved themselves industrious and capable of independence. In all cases, the indigent now had to apply for support and prove that they deserved it; indiscriminate distribution of charity to all comers was a thing of the past. As community secretary G. E. Gurevich put it, "incoherent giving creates parasites and beggars." Gurevich warned anyone thinking of entering communal service that it was "not easy to refuse many, assist most only partially, and satisfy very few."13
Jewish philanthropy in Kiev was characterized by projects on a grand scale: the Jewish Hospital was endowed with building after elaborate building; the Brodsky School was "more like a palace" than a school; the Jewish cemetery was lavished with expensive stone edifices; and the list of structures costing tens and even hundreds of thousands of rubles went on. This emphasis on large-scale capital projects could be found among the city's Christian patrons as well, but sources suggest that it had special significance for prosperous Russian Jews. The buildings they erected were a visible testament to the presence, success, and beneficence of Jews in Kiev toward their coreligionists as well as toward Russian subjects of other religions and nationalities. They broadcast a message of solidity and permanence to the surrounding society. They were also ways for the very wealthy to gain prestige and eternal fame, insinuating their names into the very fabric of the urban environment, as in the cases of the Zaitsev Clinic, the Brodsky School, and the Brodsky Synagogue (known by the name of its founder to this day). Names of benefactors or the memorialized deceased were also attached to hospital wings or, for those of more modest means, beds in a sanatorium. Even in the latter case the name of the donor and, if desired, of the individual being honored or memorialized, were literally inscribed on a plaque displayed above the bed for all to see.14
As the importance of the Jewish Hospital testified, health was another concern of Kiev's Jewish philanthropists—perhaps, like the capital projects, by dint of its visibility. In this case, however, it was not something to show off but to conceal or transform; Russian Jews were often noted in popular literature and the press for their poor health, and the growing poverty among Jews often made that reputation well-deserved. The crowded and unsanitary conditions of the city only made things worse. For acculturated Jews seeking to put a positive face on Jewry for the benefit of Russian society, sickly Jewish masses who were liable to put other populations in danger (through cholera epidemics, for example) were to be avoided. By the Great War, Kiev had literally dozens of Jewish medical facilities, from hospitals and clinics to sanatoria and hospices to home health agencies and free dispensaries. But the crowning jewel of them all was the Jewish Hospital, whose founding we examined in chapter 2. Now we return to the hospital and follow its development in the last two decades of the nineteenth century and into the twentieth.
World History
