Bialik and Revolution

1. Bialik from the Historian’s point of view

Hayyim Nahman Bialik (1873-1934), the poet  laureate in modern Hebrew literature, lived through three revolutions in Russia (in 1905, in February 1917, and in October 1917). He experienced their events and they directly affected his life. Nevertheless, his attitude to the Russian Revolution has not been examined by critics and scholars, who focused on his attitude to Zionism and to the historical situation of the Jews in tsarist Russia at his time.

Bialik has been seen as a cultural and public figure, and his ideas were understood mainly on the ideological and political level.[1]  He has been scarcely studied or commented in relation to his historical views. His ideas and concept of history were not examined against their background in  European and Russian thinking of his time. This appears to be due, among others,  to the fact that literary scholars and historians tend to look at the literary work either as a primary historical source, to be used for the knowledge of  external facts, or as an ideological manifesto, while the writer’s view of  history is sometimes neglected, especially when it is expressed in a symbolic, multivalent  language, characteristic of modern poetry.

Bialik’s work has not been included in studies dealing with the reflection of the revolutions in Hebrew literature, [2]  because he was primarily a lyric poet , while literary scholars and historians, when they turn to literature as to a historical source, prefer  to use genres traditionally connected with the “objective” reflection of history,  such as the realistic novel and short story, the autobiographical novel, and the “notes”,[3]   where literary conventions dictate an intentional documentary effect (not always authentic), or to works of poetry (mostly long poems in the tradition of the epos),  dealing directly with historical or political themes. Thus Bialik’s poema (long poem) “Be-Ir Ha-Hareiga” (In the City of Slaughter) was read as reflecting - whether correctly or not - facts connected with the Kishinev pogrom,[4]  while the shorter lyric poem “Al Ha-Shehita” (On the Slaughte) , where the same events seem to be refracted through a prism of a more subjective consciousness, did not serve as a historical source, although it expresses a very interesting view of  the event in the context of the eternal historical laws.

However, Bialik  was an author with a deep invlovement in history and interesting ideas about it.  At least durin part of his life, he believed literature could and should affect politics and history. He expressed this view clearly in the summer of 1918 in polemics with the Zionist worker Menahem Ussyshkin (1862-1941).  To the latter’s claim  that the revival of spoken Hebrew, even if it were spoken with mistakes, was a more important political factor in the effort for national  revival than philosophic and literary works like Bialik’s “Megilat Ha-esh” (The Scroll of Fire), which was allegedly written for an elite readership,[5] the poet responded with uncharacteristic anger, that books are the main and inevitable source of national revival. Literature, Bialik claims, is the hidden but real leader of politics and history, which is like a boat whose sails are limp rags without the spiritual drive.  He explains that events in politics take place only  when they become emotional facts in the life of the people, and the people was “the only true leading force, the legislator, while politics was only an amanuesis and servant.”[6]  These words supplement what is known about the public and political responsibilities that Bialik ascribed to himself as a poet. This role  was one of the conventions of  the Russian view of literature in the 19th century that were absorbed into the value system of Hebrew literature.  According to it  the poetic text, even if it seems personal, always has  a historical dimension, because the poet expresses the spirit of the people and the nation. While a historian describes the external past events, and explains them rationally,  the poet can feel and describe unconscious facts and hidden processes in the spiritual life of the nation, and he can even foresee their future direction. In this sense the poet is a “prophet”, and what he “sees” must be expressed by indirect poetic language. On the basis of such  view of literature, Bialik’s poetic work written in the period of the Russian revolutions can be looked at not only as an emotional reaction to a speciffic event, but also as an expression of a visional  “prophetic” view of the historical events, based on a certain philosophy of history.

2.  Bialik’s experience of the Three Russian Revolutions[7]

During the period of revolutions in Russia, from the abortive revolution of 1905, through the February anti-monarchist revolution of 1917 and the Bolshevik revolution eight months later,   Bialik basically lived and wrote in Odessa. He remained in the Soviet Union where he experienced post-revolutionary reality, until his emigration in 1921.

Four years before the 1905 revolution he published his first collection of poetry Shirim  (Poems, Warsaw 1901), assigning him the status of “national poet”.[8]  From the perspective of the tsarist regime, owever, Jewish “nationalist”  themes in some of the poems were perceived as dangerous and the publication of politically oriented poems (sometimes disguized as dealing with historical events[9]) was often censored.

Bialik returned to Odessa in the winter of 1905, after a stay of one and a half years in Warsaw.[10] He continued writing poetry and returne to his job at the Moriah publishing house, which provided his main source of living. 

In 1905 Odessa was full of unrest. The city suffered from terror attacks by armed gangs who engaged in “expropriations” either for revolutionary purposes or simply for gain.[11]  In July of that year Bialik witnessed the burning of the oil depots in the city harbour during the mutiny aboard the Battleship Potemkin.[12] During Passover (April 23-25) 1905 riots took place  in Zhitomir, the city where Bialik grew up and studied. The promulgation of a constitution on October 17, raised many hopes among the Jews of Odessa, as elsewhere in Russia. One of the reasons for this was the abolishment of censorship on publications in Hebrew and Yiddish, which existed since 1797.  The same day, Bialik and his colleague Ravnitski saw off their friend, the writer Ben-Tsion (Simha Alter Gutman, 1870-1932) at the harbour on his way to palestine. In the book which Bialik gave his departing friend, the poet wrote: [quotation][13]

The next day a pogrom broke out in Odessa. Bialik described it as follws in a letter to Ben-Tsion, who had arrived at Palestine: [quotation][14]

In reaction to the pogrom, on October 16, Bialik wrote to the Jewish-Russian writer Mordechai Ben-Ami (1854-1932) in Geneva: [quotation][15]

The pogroms took place in the  Moldavanka, a poor part of the Jewish district of Odessa, far from Bialik’s home at 9 Maloarnautskaia Street. Like the other Jews in the city, Bialik sought shelter in his own home. On the third and the most serious day of the pogrom, he tried to convince Ravnitski, who lived in the same house, to continue their work on a collection of aggadot[16] (traditional Jewish narratives, included within Jewish legal texts like the Talmud). “However [Quotation]”[17]

Bialik reaction was also public: he not only became one of the editors of “Megillat Ta’anit” (Mourning Scroll) published in memory of the victims of the pogroms, but also wrote a poem in memory of those killed.[18] In 1906, Bialik published two booklets of poems, one in Hebrew and the other in Yiddish, where poems expressing his anger and grief about the situation of the Jews in Russia.[19]

The months following the pogroms saw more riots and strikes.[20] Bialik’s feelings of uncertainty as to where all this would lead were revealed in a letter to Ben-Tsion: [quotation][21]

Like many of his Jewish contemporaries, Bialik was not directly involved in this tumultuous activity. This feeling of being a bystander only increased his distress: “It is obvious that this work [the revolution] is being made by others, while we, refined youth (...) are on the periphery. We  are shut up imside, shrinking ourselves - and idling with boredom.”[22]

A large scale emigration from Odessa of many Jews, including some of Bialik’s friend added to his sense of depression. Ben-Tsion made aliya, Mendele Mokher Sfarim traveled to Geneve on doctor’s orders, and Simon Dubnow had already moved to Vilna in 1903.  As Bialik complained to Ben-Tsion: [quotation][23]  Bialik was in a state of despair and impotence, as he contemplated the terrible things which befell on the Jews in Russia. His depression also stemmed from his perception of the sorry state of the hoped for Jewish awakening . As he wrote to his friend Ben-Ami in Geneva:

 “Every heart lacks strength, every hand is weak. (...) There are Bundists, Zionists and their variations and variations of variations. Perhaps fire will descend from heaven and consume all in one day: rot and filth and ugliness (...). Our hope is gone, Ben-Ami. We are neither dead nor alive”.[24]

Added to this was his anxiety about the upsurge of power and influence of the Yiddishists, representing left (socialist) wing of the Jewish public, which became stronger in the time of the revolution. In this he saw a threat to his Hebraic stand. Bialik wrote to Nebdeke in Geneva, on January 3, 1906: “Since it has become possible for anyone to publish a newspaper in the “jargon” [Yiddish] they have sprung up like new grass (...), the Bund alone, I believe, now publishes The Vekker [The Awakener] and The Lekker [yiddish: licker] and the Shmekker [yiddish: smeller] (...)” [25]

In  1906, on the occasion of  Mendele Mokher Sfarim’s 70th birthday, Bialik spoke in Odessa in a more optimistic tone, probably because seeing himself as a national leader he abstained from sounding distressed in public. Bialik said:

(...) In fact our people is strong and courageous since, even in such a bitter time as this, his strengh enables it to rise from contemporary disasters and celebrate the holiday of its eternal needs. Despite the  axe raised over our heads, let us raise our heads in pride and cry with disdain to our enemy: your deeds of destruction do not intimidateus. The people of Israel is continuing to create.

Nevertheless,in  letters written during 1907 Bialik kept complaining about his depression and his inability to create.[26]

During the course of World War I in Russia it was forbidden to publish in Hebrew in areas (including the Pale of Settlement) where fighting was going on. All residents of  Odessa were mobilized, with exemption given only to people employed in defence-related work. Bialik , together with Fichman, was working as a clerk at a factory. Military rule declared on June 5 1915 extended the ban on printing works or even corresponding privately in Hebrew letters to include Odessa. This situation threatened to paralyze the Moriah Publishing House and , hence, plunged Bialik into severe financial difficulties.

The days of the February 1917 revolution  in Odessa did not witness violence, and an atmosphere of rejoicing prevailed among the Jews, particularly in the wake of the Provisional government decrees  to free political prisoners, including many Zionists, and to grant equal rights to all people of Russia, including Jews.[27] The ban on publication in Hebrew and Yiddish (which was introduced from June 5, 1915 in the front areas) was lifted.

As a result, it  was possible to publish the collection Knesset, edited by Bialik, which contained most of Bialik’s writings from the war period.

However, the October revolution did reach the city with a vengeance. In the wake of the Bolshevik seizure of power in Petrograd till 1920, Odessa changed hands many times, between Kerensky’s troops, the Bolsheviks, Austrians, Germans, Ukrainians of  Skoropadskii, Petlira troops, Frenc, Deninkin’s soldiers abd various heterogeneous bands.

For the Zioninsts the bad news of the Bolshevik coup were soon softened by the joyful news about Balfour declaration regarding a Jewish homeland in Palestine. Local Jews celebrated an entire week, with Bialik assuming a leading place in the festivities.[28] On November 16th Bialik strode alongside Fichman, at the head of  amass stride of 50,000 through the streets of Odessa. The marchers carried blue and white Zionist flags, the flag of Great Britain, and the flag of the revolution. An orchestra of the Jewish self-defence organisation played “Hatikvah” and “The Marsellaise” the throngs sang along. On November 20th Bialik gave a speech at the Dramatis Theatrer. Even though he beleived that most Jews would remain in the Diaspora, he expressed the view that Erets Yisrael will serve as the heart that pumped blood to the whole Diaspora/ He could not help criticizing the anti-Zionst Bundists as “indentured slaves” who chose a life of security among foreighners rather than establishing their own society. He metaphorically suggested that their ears should be pierced as a sign of their voluntary refusal to be leberated from the slavery of foreign masters now that the opportunity had come.[29]

While ther appeared hope in Palestine, at home the world was whattering. In the fall of 1918, at the time of the rule of the Hetman Skoropadskii government,[30] Bialik wrote to the Hebrew writer David Firshman (1859-1922): [quotation, p. 20]

[cont. quotation, p. 21]:Ammunition stores are burning and exploding to heaven, like in Kiev.[31]

During this peiod, along with Ravnitski, Bialik worked on an edition of Ibn Gabirol’s poems,[32] as well as other collections of Jewish sources. He also continued  his activities on behalf of Jewish education. His own financial difficulties were eased by money  recieved for translations done for Stiebel’s newly established publication House. Bialik also sought to aid other needy writers in Odessa.[33]  However, his life was in danger because Jan Gamarnik,[34] the husband of Bluma, his wife Mania’s sister, was an important Communist and a general in the Red Army.[35]

In fact, Bialik was arrested after Denikin’s White army entered the city in November 1919. He was saved by one officer the poet had helped hide during Bolshevik rule in the city.[36]

In November 1918 Bialik was elected delegate to the Jewish National Assembly within the framework of the autonomy for national (ethnic) minorities established by the “independent” Ukrainian government. Bialik was discouraged from pursuing his candidacy for president of the Assembly even by the Zionists, who feared a scandal that would humiliate him. Indeed, his uncompromizing Zionist stand evoked fierce opposition from members of the Bund.[37]  Bialik’ lobbied intensively, especially on behalf of Hebrew authors, whose difficult situation had become worse as a result of the anti-Hebrew activities of the Evsektia, the Jewish section of the Communist Party. These activities , which led to a ban on Hebrew activity in the soviet Union, were the main impetus for Bailik’s decision to leave for Palestine. The daily hardships of Soviet life only added to the cultural problems he and his fellow hebraists faced. [38]

Soon after the establishmentof the Bolshevik regime in February 1920, Bialik observed ominous signs: the persecution of cultural activities in Hebrew began, as well as the arrests of people suspected of Zionist activities. According to Z. Rozental books published by Moriah were confiscated and turned into packing paper. [I have to look at Rozental again to see if he mentions any date] Bialik turned to the authorities: [quotation, p. 21][39]

In view of the unstable political situation in the city and of his fervent Zionism it was hardly surprising that Bialik planned to emigrate to Palestine on board the ship “Ruslan”, which departed at the end of 1919 with a large group of Jewish public figures from Odessa and other cities. However, his sense of family obligation made him chang his plans when his 8-year old niece Leah became ill and Bialik was not willing to leave without his brother and his family.[40]

Bialik’s exodus from Russia, together with a group of authors and their families in the summer of 1921, was a long and complicated affair.[41] During it Bialik could again, on his own experience, learn the real nature of the revolutionary government, free from the law obligation and based on voluntarism and protectionism.  The affair began almost accidently, when the journalist Aharon Lita’i decided to request an exit permit for a number of authors. He included Bailik’s name in the list without consulting with or even informing the poet.

Ex post facto, Bialik accepted the idea and suggested turning to the Soviet cultural icon Maxim Gorky for support in this matter. A letter was drafted by Bialik and Alter Druianov, a literary critic, Zionist leader and folklorist (1870-1938), and passed to Gorky by Trotski’s son, the Russian Jewish journalist Lev [Sergei?] Sedov. Gorky then turned to Lenin, who promised to help the authors if they submitted a formal application. He added a handwritten word “to Karakhan” (an assistant to Foreign Minister Chicherin, who at that time was probably in charge of granting exit permits[42]

cont. in page 24