The previous post explained the development of Ashkenazi Jewry in central Europe (France and Germany) and the beginning of its decline with the First Crusade, which was launched just before 1100. This began a period of antisemitism in Europe that has never really ended (though it certainly has had many ups and downs, and changed significantly with the Enlightenment and the Holocaust). In class we discussed several major expressions of this antisemitism. The first, and probably most prominent is known as the blood libel. This extraordinary lie, which permeates the world even today (for example in the Syrian-produced TV show Ash-Shatat, which aired in a number of Arab countries, or in the Massena blood libel in New York in 1928) claims that Jews use the blood of Christians (especially children) in our religious rituals, especially the preparing of matzoh (unleavened bread) for Pesach (Passover). Another common expression of traditional European antisemitism is the accusation of the desecration of the host. This incredible lie insinuates that we steal the Eucharist (the wafer that many Christian sects ceremonially eat as a representation of Jesus's body) and stab it. This particular accusation has always been particularly amazing to me, since it implies that we believe the Eucharist to be something more than just a wafer (and therefore worth stealing and stabbing) and yet have no problem desecrating it (I suppose applying logic to antisemitism isn't necessarily helpful).
A final expression of traditional European antisemitism is the accusation that we poison wells or otherwise cause disease, especially the Black Plague. As mentioned above I don't think logical, rational thought is the best way to explain antisemitism (which is inherently irrational), but this accusation at least has some foundation in reality (though obviously Jews did not poison wells). Jewish tradition compels both men and women to bathe in a mikve (a ritual bath) at fairly regular intervals, and there are certain meals (such as Shabbat dinner on Friday nights) which require ceremonial hand-washing. While neither of these would pass modern hygiene tests, it seems likely that it meant that Jews often practiced better hygiene than the surrounding populace during the Middle Ages (when hygiene standards were basically nonexistent). Jews also tended to live in walled, Jewish communities, originally by choice and later by force, which meant that there was limited interaction between us and the surrounding communities, making it less likely that an epidemic affecting the rest of the population would affect us. Some combination of these factors created an environment in which Jews were somewhat less affected by epidemics (or perhaps we were equally affected and blamed nonetheless). These expressions of antisemitism in traditional Ashkenaz, along with the massacres generated by the Crusades, caused more and more Jews to move east, especially to Poland.
A 15th century painting of Jews stabbing the Eucharist |
From 1050-1550 Poland was a remarkably open and tolerant place. This toleration together with the antisemitism in Ashkenaz (antisemitism that would, unfortunately, also arrive to eastern Europe) led to a rapid growth in Poland's Jewish population, with some estimates suggesting that as much as 75% of the world's Jewry resided there by the end of the 16th century (other estimates suggest a smaller percentage). Jews in Poland entered into what would eventually be called the Arenda System. As in most places the nobility didn't actually do much work; they considered it beneath them (think about the family in the TV show Downton Abbey, for example). So when Am Yisrael began arriving the Polish nobility were more than happy to put us to use running various institutions (large farms, the official mint, etc.) and paying us a percentage of the earnings. Am Yisrael became so prosperous and numerous in Poland that we developed a national Jewish government--Va'ad Arbah Aratzot (Council of Four Lands)--that mirrored the Polish national government and included 70 Jewish representatives (the same number as the Sanhedrin) from around Poland. We began referring to Poland as Po Lan Ya: "Here lies God" (the "Ya" part is like Hallelu-ya). There were even Polish coins with Hebrew letters on them.
Regular readers of the blog will no doubt already know what's coming next. As Poland prospered it spread east, conquering a people known as the Cossacks. The Cossacks differed culturally and religiously from the Polish nobility and eventually rebelled. Of course, one the groups to suffer most severely from this uprising was Am Yisrael, who were serving as intermediaries for the Polish nobility. The Khmelnytsky Massacres (named for the leader of the Cossacks, Bogdan Khmelnytsky) killed about 100,000 Jews in less than ten years, probably around 8% of the world's total Jewish population (today that would be about one million Jews).
One of the things that has allowed Am Yisrael to survive and thrive despite the many tribulations that have come our way is our capacity to deal with tragedy. The destruction of the Second Temple led to the development of the Oral Torah and eventually the Talmud. The destruction of Spanish Jewry led to the development of Kabbalah, Jewish mysticism. In both of these cases the developments were an attempt to try and deal with the calamity that had befallen us. In this case, however, tragedy gave birth to more tragedy (at least in the beginning). In 1626 a man named Shabbtai Tzvi was born. He, with help from his "prophet" Nathan of Gaza claimed to be the Messiah. For the Jews of Poland (and for much of the Jewish world, who still remembered the tragedy of the Spanish Inquisition as well) the coming of the Messiah made perfect sense. It allowed them to explain the fall of Po Lan Ya as the birth pains of the coming of the Messiah. Eventually, the Ottoman Sultan (Shabbtai was born and spent most of his life in Ottoman lands) captured this rabble-rouser and gave him a choice between death and conversion to Islam. He chose Islam. And while a few of his followers continued to believe in him, for most of Am Yisrael it was a devastating let down.
A few decades later Jacob Frank (who was born in Poland) claimed to be the reincarnation of Shabbtai Tzvi, collected many followers, and ultimately was a huge disappointment. While it would be incorrect to think of this solely as a Polish phenomenon, the success these two men had in accumulating followers was heavily influenced by the depth of the tragedy that was the destruction of Po Lan Ya. It's not an exaggeration to compare this destruction to what it would be like if the same sort of massacres occurred in the modern day US, which is currently a golden age for Am Yisrael. And while I can already hear the protestations of American Jews that "it could never happen here" (and I think you can make a reasonable argument that America really is a different country founded on different principles than any country before it) the Jews of Po Lan Ya would certainly have said the same thing (as would the Jews of Golden Age Spain or pre-Hitler Germany).
Another more positive re-imagining of Judaism in the wake of the Khmelnytsky Massacres was the development of Chasidut. Yisrael ben Eliezer was born in Poland in 1698, and, unlike most Jewish leaders, was an underachieving scholar as a youth. He preferred to spend time out in nature. He often quoted Sanhedrin 106b (part of the Talmud) which says that "God desires the heart" and Isaiah 6:13 which says that "the earth is full of God's glory" to explain himself. From his perspective, rather than focus exclusively on study (which is not to say he considered it unimportant) each Jew needed to develop his personal connection with Hashem. To this end Yisrael ben Eliezer, who is called the Ba'al Shem Tov (or Besht for short), encouraged his followers to go out and nature and sing nigunim (songs without words) to connect with Hashem, such as this one:
The development of Chasidut, while important in itself, also led to the development of the institution of the "Rebbe", the leader of a particular community who is generally seen to be a tzadik (righteous person) and to have an especially close relationship with Hashem. In Chasidic communities the Rebbe has the final say on virtually everything. One famous example of a Rebbe is the grandson of the Ba'al Shem Tov: Rabbi Nahman of Breslav (another is Rabbi Schneerson, who is believed to have been the messiah by many of his followers). Rabbi Nahman emphasized the concept of hitbodedut, which is the idea that each individual should have a personal relationship with Hashem, thinking of Hashem as a close, personal confidant with whom we have regular discourse. The sect he founded, the Breslovers (based on the name of the town where he's from, and a name the students found highly entertaining), believe deeply in Rabbi Nahman's idea that "it is a great mitzvah to always be happy," and so it's not uncommon to see them dancing in the streets.
As the Chasidic movement gained traction a counter-movement based in Lithuania began, too, who called themselves the mitnagdim (the ones who oppose). They argued that the Chasidim were allowing their passions to run away with them, and encouraged a return to focus on Jewish study. The most well-known representative of the mitnagdim is the Vilna Gaon, who famously studied 18 hours a day. When one of his students asked him why he studied so much he answered that "If I don't study 18 hours a day the Jews of Poland won't study even 12 hours a day, the Jews of France not even 6 hours a day and the Jews of Britain won't keep Shabbat". Eventually the Haskalah (Jewish Enlightenment) rendered divisions between the Chasidim and mitnagdim less important. The Chasidim became more study oriented and eventually they both became what we'll call (in a later blog) ultra-Orthodox.
Polish coins with Hebrew letters from the 12th century |
One of the things that has allowed Am Yisrael to survive and thrive despite the many tribulations that have come our way is our capacity to deal with tragedy. The destruction of the Second Temple led to the development of the Oral Torah and eventually the Talmud. The destruction of Spanish Jewry led to the development of Kabbalah, Jewish mysticism. In both of these cases the developments were an attempt to try and deal with the calamity that had befallen us. In this case, however, tragedy gave birth to more tragedy (at least in the beginning). In 1626 a man named Shabbtai Tzvi was born. He, with help from his "prophet" Nathan of Gaza claimed to be the Messiah. For the Jews of Poland (and for much of the Jewish world, who still remembered the tragedy of the Spanish Inquisition as well) the coming of the Messiah made perfect sense. It allowed them to explain the fall of Po Lan Ya as the birth pains of the coming of the Messiah. Eventually, the Ottoman Sultan (Shabbtai was born and spent most of his life in Ottoman lands) captured this rabble-rouser and gave him a choice between death and conversion to Islam. He chose Islam. And while a few of his followers continued to believe in him, for most of Am Yisrael it was a devastating let down.
A few decades later Jacob Frank (who was born in Poland) claimed to be the reincarnation of Shabbtai Tzvi, collected many followers, and ultimately was a huge disappointment. While it would be incorrect to think of this solely as a Polish phenomenon, the success these two men had in accumulating followers was heavily influenced by the depth of the tragedy that was the destruction of Po Lan Ya. It's not an exaggeration to compare this destruction to what it would be like if the same sort of massacres occurred in the modern day US, which is currently a golden age for Am Yisrael. And while I can already hear the protestations of American Jews that "it could never happen here" (and I think you can make a reasonable argument that America really is a different country founded on different principles than any country before it) the Jews of Po Lan Ya would certainly have said the same thing (as would the Jews of Golden Age Spain or pre-Hitler Germany).
Another more positive re-imagining of Judaism in the wake of the Khmelnytsky Massacres was the development of Chasidut. Yisrael ben Eliezer was born in Poland in 1698, and, unlike most Jewish leaders, was an underachieving scholar as a youth. He preferred to spend time out in nature. He often quoted Sanhedrin 106b (part of the Talmud) which says that "God desires the heart" and Isaiah 6:13 which says that "the earth is full of God's glory" to explain himself. From his perspective, rather than focus exclusively on study (which is not to say he considered it unimportant) each Jew needed to develop his personal connection with Hashem. To this end Yisrael ben Eliezer, who is called the Ba'al Shem Tov (or Besht for short), encouraged his followers to go out and nature and sing nigunim (songs without words) to connect with Hashem, such as this one:
I think it's absolutely awful, and shocking to the people of Po Lan Ya, how a civilization can be destroyed so quickly. To have a steady, prosperous life set up and then have it taken away so quickly is so devastating and very degrading. I'm sure it must've been very hard for the people of Po Lan Ya, and Jews in general, to have faith in continuing Judaism, but that's one of the beautiful things about our religion. No matter where or what the circumstances, we always find a way to keep faith.
ReplyDeleteIt is scary to me that a community can be so a part of society for 400 years and then quickly turned against from the rest of their community. I feel very safe in my community and I feel like that could never happen to me. But the again, these people also thought it could never happen. It is scary because you hear about all oft these anti-Semitic incidents that happen around the globe such as the JCC shooting and the "Jewish Taxes" in the Ukraine that it makes you scared a similar thing could happen again. Even you said today that Golden Ages always end. I am just going to hope I am being a little paranoid and that the world would never let it happen again.
ReplyDelete