The annexation of the Jewish Welfare Committee by the municipality, which deprived it of its independence but lent it the authority and imprimatur of the Russian government itself, only served to widen the gap between the members of the committee and their wards. This should not be surprising, given that the new body, the Representation for Jewish Welfare, was staffed by the same plutocrats as the old committee, and moreover was now part and parcel of the city administration that so many Kiev Jews regarded with suspicion and hostility, given its generally antagonistic approach toward the city's Jewish community, of which the frequent nighttime roundups and arrests of illegal Jews were only the most obvious example. Indeed, complaints about the Representation's unresponsiveness to the needs of Kiev Jewry began to multiply right around the time that the body was established. This held true despite the representatives' initial attempt to establish a certain measure of independence vis-a-vis local authorities, as seen in their successful appeal of the city's initial order that only Jews holding Kiev residence permits would be eligible to receive assistance from the Representation (as opposed to the thousands of temporary Jewish residents).96 A clear illustration of the wariness of Kiev Jews about the welfare administration is the warning given by one frequent correspondent from Kiev in the pages of the Jewish newspaper Ha-melits, who, even as he was praising the actions of the new Representation, wrote, "I am writing this in Ha-melits so that the benefactors of our city will know that their actions are being watched, and they should continue to do acts of charity for all days, and so that all those engaged in communal affairs should do the same."97
At first, the founding of the Representation for Jewish Welfare seemed to bode well. Under the new system, charity was systematized; for example, before Passover the city was divided up into districts and the would-be recipients of holiday assistance had to apply to their district board, which then decided on eligibility.98 The needy had previously received cash, but were now given packages of matzah, wine, meat, and potatoes; according to the report of a correspondent who was thrilled with the new dispensation, this change eliminated improprieties such as using the Passover charity to bid on synagogue honors or to purchase valuables or household goods. In years past, funds had even gone missing.99 Russian Kiev agreed: after the Passover of 1895 ended, one Jewish newspaper reported that Kiev's Russian press had praised Jews for their holiday charity and the orderly manner in which it had been distributed.100
The new order did not, however, please everyone. Some Jews were apparently unhappy about having to "grovel" to those who distributed the food, likely a reference to the required application to the local district board; it is probable that Passover aid had previously been given to anyone who declared that he or she was in need.101 More important, however, is the fact that the new arrangement brought into relief the lack of accountability of the Representation. The Municipal Statute of 1892 denied Jews in cities outside the Pale of Settlement any representation in their municipal government; hence, if Jews had had little say in the decisions of the Jewish Welfare Committee, they were now even more disenfranchised, given that the Representation for Jewish Welfare was officially part of the municipal government.102 Despite the fact Jewish "representatives" still sat on the committee, most Kiev Jews had no voice in how the money they paid in taxes was spent, just as they had no voice in how their city was run. Indeed, the electoral restrictions of the municipal statute and the abolition of the independent Jewish Welfare Committee were part of a broader trend of widening limitations on Jewish participation in communal and public affairs, which also included a decision in 1891 by the Committee of Ministers allowing the Kiev municipality to appropriate additional funds for itself from the kosher tax revenues.103
Evidence of general rancor against the Representation for Jewish Welfare was now found not only in sealed petitions such as those submitted by the artisans in 1890, but also openly, in the press. In 1899, the korobka system in Kiev received national attention after a correspondent from Kiev wrote a letter to the editor of the Russian-language Jewish weekly Khronika Voskhoda, complaining that those who distributed revenues did not consult with taxpayers, thus leading to a situation in which the municipality spent the money on whatever it chose. The author claimed that a recent gala dedication of Kiev's new port had been paid for out of the korobka proceeds, and thus out of the pockets of the Jewish destitute.104 In a subsequent letter to the editor,
Kiev's Crown rabbi P. A. lampol’skii—a member of the Representation for Jewish Welfare—defended the Kiev korobka, writing that the city administration had "always energetically defended the interests of the Jewish population." Iampol’skii claimed that it was only after the provincial government had usurped the tax from the city and made drastic cuts in allocations that circumstances for Kiev's Jews had declined.105 The editor of Khronika Vos-khoda then weighed in with his own commentary: the Kiev kosher excise, as the only municipal tax in the empire to be levied from subjects of a particular faith, was illegal; the Jewish masses should not have to shoulder the burden; and Jewish representatives, rather than defending the tax, should be defending the interests of the Jewish poor. This, he claimed, they were not doing.
Perhaps it was no coincidence that the very same issue of Khronika Vos-khoda printed a report from Kiev about a new Jewish day shelter for children, established jointly by the Kiev Society of Day Shelters for Children of the Working Class and the wife of a local Jewish doctor. The paper's correspondent condemned the "indifference" of the Jewish aristocracy. According to him, it was imperative that the Kiev Jewish community (i. e., the Representation for Jewish Welfare) make this institution a priority; indeed, the center, established without initiative or assistance from the Representation, was proof of the apathy of the Jewish elite.
It's shameful to say: despite the influence and wealth of the representatives of the community, there is still much to do here. The huge numbers of poor artisans and employees do not even have the opportunity to give their children elementary education; we do not have even one Jewish school, and other basic needs also go unmet.106
Clearly, the communal board was out of touch with its constituents, and was ignorant or neglectful of their most elementary needs. What was required of the representatives, continued the correspondent, was an entirely new approach to communal affairs to replace the current inertia: energetic activity in order to encourage public initiative, reorganize and ameliorate existing institutions, and establish new ones.
Another Kiev Jew writing to Voskhod seconded the charge that the plutocrats were out of touch with the reality of most of Kiev's indigent Jews. If the organizers of Jewish welfare in Kiev were simply to become acquainted with the living conditions in the Jewish slums, they would know how better to assist their denizens. "Unfortunately, the contributors are too far away from the poor folk and their circumstances." What was really needed was proper housing, instead of the current hovels, and employment opportunities so that the poor could make an honest living. In essence, the author was calling for a modern welfare system that went far beyond what traditional Jewish charity had attempted to provide. Moreover, the attempts the Representation had made to systematize welfare were apparently unsuccessful, at least in the eyes of some critics; the letter charged that "a central organization to coordinate the aid" was still lacking.107
The day shelter was only one of a number of independent voluntary associations and institutions established after the government's introduction of model charters for charitable associations in 1897 (another leading example were sanatoria for Jewish tuberculosis patients, of which Kiev had several).108 This measure regularized and facilitated the establishment of such associations by providing them with a standard set of by-laws that, in most cases, had to be approved of only by the provincial governor and not the minister of the interior in St. Petersburg.109 Indeed, in late 1899 the editor of Khronika Voskhoda noted that "there are more and more 'Societies to Aid the Needy' cropping up all over the place, in every community," and that they were now transparent and accountable, thanks to the new model charters law. However, the new organizations were having to do battle with the old societies, run by the "notables" and often infamous for embezzling or other financial improprieties, since the trend was now moving toward uniting all Jewish welfare institutions under one roof. The notables did not want to give up their independent fiefdoms.110 The editor's observation on the ubiquity of Jewish charitable associations was in line with reality, for they made up almost half of all those founded in the Russian Empire in 1898.111
The notables of Kiev were no exception: they too did not want to give up control over the Representation for Jewish Welfare and the power it embodied, nor would they allocate funding for the new societies. Calls for an elected governing board began to multiply. In a series of articles entitled Letters from Kiev, an anonymous author defended the Representation for Jewish Welfare from charges of abuse, but at the same time suggested diplomatically that the Kiev Jewish community would benefit greatly from an elected communal governing board. The current members of the Representation, he insisted, approached their responsibilities conscientiously, but since they were chosen by the city administration, they tended to be financiers and industrialists who had little extra time to devote to communal affairs and in general were indifferent to "the new needs of Jewish life."112 Elections with the participation of all Kiev Jews would bring "new, fresh, and energetic forces" to the Representation and to Jewish welfare in Kiev.113 Such forces were now essential, he argued: with the huge influx of Jews, mostly poor, into Kiev in recent years, "a vital need has arisen for the expansion of the existing philanthropic institutions and the organization of new forms of communal assistance."114 Against claims, perhaps heard from the representatives, that Kiev's peculiar status did not allow for an official (i. e., elected) Jewish governing board, the author noted that the city already had an elected Crown rabbi.115
Interestingly, the suggestions found in Letters from Kiev are quite similar to those that had been made by St. Petersburg rabbi Avram Neiman almost thirty-five years earlier in a report to the governor of St. Petersburg province, in which he described the "disorders and stagnation" that troubled the community. In St. Petersburg as in Kiev, communal leaders were too busy with their own business affairs to attend to their voluntary commitments. Nei-man suggested that elections were necessary in order to provide the community with the stability and firm foundation that it needed. Also common to both cities' Jewish communities was the charge of corruption in communal elections.116
To a certain extent, the figures for the korobka budget in the 18981902 period, cited in Letters from Kiev, spoke for themselves. More than one-quarter of the 116,000 rubles in income were handed over to the municipality and the police department. Of the balance, fully 45 percent went to the Jewish Hospital—the favored institution of the Jewish elite—18 percent were designated for burial and cemetery expenses, and 17 percent to pay the salaries of the Crown rabbi and the kosher inspectors. Only 12 percent of the funds were left for the Representation's own programs for the needy: aid to the indigent and unemployed, care for orphans, and Passover assistance. The only outside organizations to receive allocations were prayer houses and the city's subsidized cafeterias—a total of 1,800 rubles, or 2 percent of the total.
Accounts from Kiev testified to the fact that the city's Jews were not miserly in their charity: private individuals gave donations in addition to the kosher excise revenues, but because the Representation for Jewish Welfare was either incompetent at distributing to those in need or did not take responsibility for doing so at all, the funds were delivered late or to the wrong recipients.117 The veteran Jewish welfare organizations in Kiev were also accused of lacking supervision over funds, secrecy in accounting, and nepotism; the Jewish organizations were contrasted to charitable societies of Kiev's Catholic and Lutheran communities, which were governed according to the 1897 model charter, publishing annual reports and avoiding a great deal of red tape.118
One piece of evidence hints that not all the blame should have been placed on the shoulders of the Representation for Jewish Welfare, but rather that the policies of the government were at least partially responsible for the absence of well-organized Jewish welfare in Kiev. In 1897, three prosperous Jewish merchants, including Lazar’ Brodsky, petitioned the authorities to allow the establishment of a Society for aid to Poor Jewish artisans and Workers, arguing that the money that was currently being spent on assistance to needy artisans was not having its desired effect because of the unsystematic nature of the aid and the lack of official government sanction. The provincial governor recommended that the application be rejected, remarking that the establishment of such a society would attract even more Jewish artisans to Kiev and prove harmful for Christian craftsmen. The governor-general acted on his subordinate's advice, noting that "rich Jews can provide material assistance to their coreligionists without establishing a special society."119 Not surprisingly, such government bureaucrats felt that it was safer to leave welfare activities in the hands of the wealthy, who were, it was felt, generally more reliable than poor Jews who had a reputation for revolutionary tendencies. Thus, it may well be the case that at least some Jewish "notables" in Kiev wanted to establish other, independent welfare institutions, but were not permitted to do so.
The author of Letters from Kiev who had suggested that the representatives be elected, noting that the Kiev Jewish community already had an elected official—the Crown rabbi—turned out to be quite prescient. And it was no coincidence that he was writing in 1901, the year the government made regulations governing rabbinical elections uniform throughout the entire empire and enfranchising all members of synagogues and prayer houses, regardless of how much they paid in dues.120 While extending the vote to many more than had had it previously, the government was also following the policy it had set down decades before: the Jewish community was to be defined as a religious entity only—hence, the official rabbi was to be elected by dues-paying "parishioners" only, and not simply by any Jew. The elected status of the rabbi quickly became a flashpoint for many of the issues of governance and power in the community. It is thus important to review the history and nature of the Crown rabbinate in Kiev before proceeding further.
World History
