Sejarah Zionisme, 1600-1918/Volume 1/Bab 37

CHAPTER XXXVII.

CHRISTIAN PROPAGANDA IN ENGLAND

A new appeal—Earl of Shaftesbury in 1876—Edward Cazalet—Laurence Oliphant—Zionism in English fiction—George Eliot—“Daniel Deronda”—The Jewish nationalism of Mordecai Cohen—A quotation from Dr. Joseph Jacobs.

In Palestine the Jews continued to cherish the hope of colonization, though they had a hard struggle for existence. In a new appeal addressed to the Jews in England, Rabbi Sneersohn describes the situation in Palestine, and gives a clear idea of the efforts previously made in the direction of colonization. This appeal is very instructive as to the history of the colonization efforts in the earlier stages (Appendix lxxi).

At the same time, while the Jewish organizations grappled with the problem from the standpoint of charity, the great Zionist idea was again put forth by English Christians. In the first place, Lord Shaftesbury wrote in 1876 a most remarkable Zionist article, from which we quote a few sentences:—

“Is there no other destiny for Palestine but to remain desolate or to become the appendage of an ambitious foreign power? Syria and Palestine will ere long become most important. On the Euphrates and along the coast old cities will revive and new ones will be built: the old time will come back on a scale of greater vastness and grandeur: and bridging the districts the stream will run in the track of the caravans. Syria then will be a place of trade pre-eminence. And who are pre-eminently the traders of the world? Will there, when the coming change has taken place, be any more congenial field for the energies of the Jew? The country wants capital and population. The Jews can give it both. And has not England a special interest in promoting such a restoration? It would be a blow to England if either of her rivals should get hold of Syria. Her Empire reaching from Canada in the West to Calcutta and Australia in the South-East would be cut in two. England does not covet any such territories, but she must see that they do not get in the hands of rival Powers. She must preserve Syria to herself. Does not policy then—if that were all—exhort England to foster the nationality of the Jews and aid them, as opportunity may offer, to return as a leavening power to their old country? England is the great trading and maritime power of the world. To England, then, naturally belongs the rôle of favouring the settlement of the Jews in Palestine. The nationality of the Jews exists: the spirit is there and has been there for 3000 years, but the external form, the crowning bond of union is still wanting. A nation must have a country. The old land, the old people. This is not an artificial experiment: it is nature, it is history.” Needless to say, the political idea, as expounded in these sentences, could not have been put more convincingly by the staunchest Jewish political Zionist.

A few years later, two distinguished Englishmen started propaganda work on the same lines as Lord Shaftesbury: Edward Cazalet and Laurence Oliphant.

Edward Cazalet (1827‒1883) was a man of great political ability. He was a staunch friend of the Jews, and he knew the East. His idea was that “wrong should be righted and freedom allowed a place in the world.” He had a very high conception of Great Britain’s duty in the East. His appreciation of a centre for “Jewish culture” is especially remarkable. Hardly a single point seems to have escaped him; he covers the ground thoroughly, from criticism of the old English policy to discussion of the new Eastern problem, taking the question of the Palestinian population, the jealousies of the sects, and a hundred other things by the way. There are naturally a few debatable points in this comprehensive treatise (Appendix lxxii). But as a whole it shows remarkable insight.

A place of honour in the realm of England’s Zionism belongs to another remarkable personality: Laurence Oliphant (1829‒1888). He was a friend of Lord Shaftesbury, and had been a high official in connection with Indian affairs, secretary to the Earl of Elgin and Kincardine (1811‒1863), traveller, journalist, diplomatist and member of Parliament. He took up a scheme for colonizing Palestine with Jews, and early in 1879 went to the East to examine the country and endeavour to obtain a concession from the Turkish Government. In consequence of jealousies this attempt to influence the Turkish Government failed, and the scheme broke down, as did many others that were launched about this time. He again took up the Palestine colonization scheme in 1882. He travelled to Constantinople in the summer of that year, and settled for a time in Therapia. At the end of the year he moved with his wife to Haifa.

He reports thus on his efforts in his book:—

“... Prior to starting, however, it seemed to be my first duty to lay the matter before the Government, with the view of obtaining their support and approval, and I therefore communicated to the then Prime Minister and Lord Salisbury the outline of the project. From both Ministers I received the kindest encouragements and assurances of support, as far as it was possible to afford it without officially committing the Government. And I was instructed to obtain, if possible, the unofficial approval of the French Minister of Foreign Affairs of the scheme. I therefore proceeded to Paris, and submitted it to M. W. H. Waddington (1826‒1894), who was sufficiently favourably impressed with the idea to give me a circular letter to the French Ambassador at Constantinople and other diplomatic and consular representatives in Turkey. I was also similarly provided with letters of recommendation from our own Foreign Office.

“I would venture to express most respectfully my gratitude and thanks to His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales and to their Royal Highnesses the Prince (1831‒1917) and Princess Christian of Schleswig-Holstein for the warm interest and cordial sympathy with which they regarded the project and which encouraged me to prosecute it.”

“It appeared to me that this object might be attained by means of a Colonisation Company, and that one of those rich and unoccupied districts which abound in Turkey might be obtained and developed through the agency of a commercial enterprise which should be formed under the auspices of His Majesty, and have its seat at Constantinople, though, as in the case of the Ottoman Bank and other Turkish companies, the capital would be found abroad, provided the charter contained guarantees adequate for the protection of the interests of the shareholders.” “It is somewhat unfortunate that so important a political and strategical question as the future of Palestine should be inseparably connected in the public mind with a favourite religious theory. The restoration of the Jews to Palestine has been so often urged upon sentimental or Scriptural grounds, that now, when it may possibly become the practical and common-sense solution of a great future difficulty, a prejudice against it exists in the minds of those who have always regarded it as a theological chimera, which it is not easy to remove. The mere accident of a measure involving most important international consequences, having been advocated by a large section of the Christian community, from a purely Biblical point of view, does not necessarily impair its political value. On the contrary, its political value once estimated on its own merits and admitted, the fact that it will carry with it the sympathy and support of those who are not usually particularly well versed in foreign politics is decidedly in its favour. I would avail myself of this opportunity of observing that, so far as my own efforts are concerned, they are based upon considerations which have no connection whatever with any popular religious theory upon the subject.”

These last remarks are particularly worthy of the attention of those who, ignorant of the actual facts, are inclined to represent Zionism merely as a theological or sectarian idea. There is undoubtedly a strong religious feeling underlying it, but the idea has been dealt with, defended and propagated in England from all points of view.

Laurence Oliphant continued to take an interest in the question until his death on December 23rd, 1888.

Among English writers who have understood the idea in all its depth and breadth, the place of honour belongs unquestionably to George Eliot (1819‒1880).¹ She chose the Zionist idea for the theme of an imaginative creation, wherein she displayed unequalled depth of comprehension and breadth of conception. In “Daniel Deronda”² (1874‒1876) the Jew demands the rights pertaining to his race, and claims admittance into the community of nations as one of its legitimate members. He demands real emancipation, real equality. The blood of the prophets surges in his veins, the voice of God calls to him, and he becomes conscious, and emphatically declares that he has a distinct nationality; the days of levelling are over. Where calumny and obtuseness see nothing but disjecta membra, the eye of the English poetess perceives a complete national entity destined to begin life afresh, full of strength and vigour.

It is a memorable book, written by an author devoted to humanity and to the deeper realities of English national life. Its atmosphere is far removed from the conception of a materialistic world. Yet it is practical in a higher sense. It preaches a great idea. The Jewish nationality is represented as it actually is: not as an artificial combination, but as an ethnological group which possessed the glory of independence in the happier past and has been kept alive to hope for the future by a deep historical consciousness and a lofty devotion to humanity. This is a Zionist message indeed.

The wonderful completeness and accuracy with which George Eliot represented the Jewish character is particularly remarkable. The sketches of Klesmer and Alcharisi are triumphs of artistic skill. Ezra Cohen is the embodiment of the successful commercial faculty. The influence of the mother and the home on the inner life of the Jew, as described in the novel, must impress every reader. Pusti, the “Jew who is no Jew,” typifies excellently the despised class of which he is a specimen. The more temperate Gideon represents a large section of the Jews who are neither ashamed of their race nor proud of it, but are prepared to let the racial and religious distinctions for which the Jewish nation has fought so valiantly perish unexpressed. But the great character of the book is Mordecai Cohen.

Mordecai Cohen is a lineal descendant of three great spiritual houses which, in past ages, have waged a moral warfare in defiance of the whole world against terrible odds; and the fact that those noble souls are descendants of the Jewish race affords ample proof of the physical, intellectual, and moral stamina which Judaism has always preserved. Mordecai is the leader of a party which refuses to believe that Israel’s part in history is accomplished, and maintains that Israel’s future policy should be to join the nations as soon as possible.

George Eliot explains the traditions, habits and characteristics of the Jews with the affectionate accuracy of a delighted scientific observer and with the fine enthusiasm of a humanitarian spirit. The abundance of detail and the sensitiveness of the fine shades are marvellous. With subtlety, restraint and delicacy, without the excitements of sensationalism, she succeeds in throwing into relief the real Jewish problem. Something is passing away that once possessed a life and value of its own. The labour of thousands of years is lost; a flame has burnt in vain, a fire is extinguished without having fostered life. There is a terrible sadness in it. The human soul turns to what has been the highest aspiration of its life. Mordecai has a profound contempt for the arts of emulation; he wants creative originality. His idea is to be wholly what he is partly, his own self, his own self restored. He wants to live entirety at home, to live by the work of his hands, to bring to maturity the ideas which he feels developing in his mind. Where would this be possible? Only within an organization of his own people in their ancient home, in the mother-country of his own kin and ancestry, in a commonwealth which should focus and embody the whole of Jewish life as it should be, not ossified, dried, cut up, preserved in the form of saintly relics and adapted by interpretations and compromises to different zones, cultures and customs. He has, it is true, a great reverence for these saintly relics, and—faute de mieux—in the Diaspora he feels it a sacred duty to preserve them. But he feels that this is not the ideal, he sees that it is going to vanish, and therefore he longs for his home, for a cultural entity working independently in harmony with similar entities. This and only this would bring the Jews nearer to the world, nearer to humanity. Is this “nationalism”? In the absence of a happier name, let us accept this term. “What’s in a name?” In reality, it is human liberty; it involves no secession from the stream of common humanity. There is no aspiration more in harmony with the spirit and deeper tendencies of our age, more in accordance with liberty and justice, for nations as well as for individuals. This is Zionist “nationalism.” No writer defends it more enthusiastically than George Eliot.

The late Dr. Joseph Jacobs (1854‒1916) was more Zionist than the Zionists themselves when he wrote: “Unless some such project as Mordecai has in view be carried out in the next three generations, it is much to be feared that both the national life of the Jews and the religious life of Judaism will perish utterly from the face of the earth” (Macmillan’s Magazine, June, 1877, p. 110). This opinion is rather too gloomy, and he took a different view in later years. But his first opinion is significant.

In the Valhalla of the Jewish people, among the tokens of homage offered by the genius of centuries, “Daniel Deronda” will take its place as the proudest testimony to English recognition of the Zionist idea.