Jewish Colonists in the Crimea; Learning to Be Tillers of the Soil

This is the first of two articles on the Jewish colonization in the Crimea

Much has already been written about the new life in the Jewish colonies in the Crimea. Unfortunately, most of the information is buried under a mountain of statistics, historical data, political arguments. And yet, for one who has seen the death of the old Jewish village, it is so easy to wax lyrical, yes, even grow sentimental, over the new life that is being forged by Jews on the soil.

The Crimea is a sunny and flowering peninsula washed by the Black and Azov seas. It is a country, I was told by the colonists, “blessed with the best of climates and the most fertile of soils.” About the size of Holland, Crimea has vast hitherto uninhabited steppes.

In these steppes, a small group of Jewish pioneers decided to recommence life as tillers of the soil. They were assisted in this task by Dr. Joseph Rosen of the Agro-Joint, one of the most remarkable men I have ever known.

It was a difficult task. The land was virgin; it had to be cultivated. The land was arid; it needed irrigation. The process was slow and painful. Eight years have passed—years of hard toil. Not in vain. The Kolchoz (collective farm) “Icor” has already become one of the most prosperous in Crimea. A small group of pioneers have pointed the way out. Thousands of Jews who were slowly perishing in the villages, followed them.

PEASANTS AT FIRST OPPOSED

Today, there are 29,000 Jews in the Crimea, all organized into collectives. Hundreds of new Jewish settlements came into being. They have 3,000 houses, 200 buildings for collective and agricultural purposes, and a number of schools, hospitals, clubs and various other social and cultural institutions. Unlike the work of other farming nationalities in Crimea, the agricultural work of the Jews is 75 per cent mechanized.

Some interesting incidents are related about the beginning of the Jewish colonization in Crimea When the first group of settlers arrived, they were met with strong opposition on the part of the local peasantry. This was of course, attributed to the peasant’s inherent anti-Semitism. Undoubtedly, the anti-Semitic element was there. More important, however, I believe, was the peasant’s extraordinary love and reverence for the land. They feared that the “Holy land” was being desecrated.

“To whom are they giving land?” they asked in amazement. “What will they do with it?”

EXPERIMENT IS REALITY

Indeed, the typical village Jew, destroyed and demoralized by the forces of the Russian Revolution, inspired very little confidence in his ability to work on the soil. It was indeed necessary to have the daring inspiration of a revolution to transform these Jews into peasants. It was an experiment. It is now reality. The ghetto Jew is gradually being transformed into a new man.

The sun was setting beyond the Crimean mountains, when we approached the Kolchoz, “Horepashnik”. Night was slowly descending upon the steppe. Suddenly, it was lit by numerous glittering lights.

“Look!” exclaimed Raskin, the agronom, who was riding with me in the automobile, “The steppe is being electrified!” Indeed, the steppe was being electrified. Every few moments new lights would appear in the distance. They belonged to the various kolchoses. Raskin, who knew the region well, could recognize each of them. The Kolchoz, “Icor”, “Horepashnik”, “Molotov”—all were casting their light on the steppe. And further down, in the distance, one could see the contours of “Freidorf”—the autonomous Jewish region in Crimea.

Although, as Raskin explained to me, there are several nationalities living in “Freidorf”, because the Jews are in a majority, the administrative business of the region is conducted in the Yiddish language. Yes, even the G.P.U. speaks Yiddish.

Here, a word ought to be said about Mr. Raskin and the other agronoms of the Agro-Joint. During my visit to Crimea, I often heard colonists remark: “What would we do without Raskin?” What was true of Raskin was also true of the other agronoms.

The original task of the agronoms was, of course, to teach and train new farmers. Because, however, Jewish colonization in Russia is as much social in character as technical, the agronoms soon became to the colonists not only teachers and instructors, but also counsellors, referees and friends.

Raskin’s appearance at the “Horepashnik” was greeted warmly by the colonists.

“Raskin has come … Raskin has come,” was heard everywhere. In a moment he was showered with questions. Everyone had some business with Raskin. He listened attentively, settled disputes, gave advice.

A MOUNTAIN OF TROUBLE

I shall never forget the scene at the chicken coop.

“Oi, Raskin!”, came a voice from inside the coop.

“It’s me, Nachman”, said Raskin.

“It’s you, it’s you, I know it’s you”, replied the voice. “Where have you been all this time, Comrade Raskin? You are forgetting us. I was already going to send for you….”

“Any trouble?”

“A mountain of it. I have trouble with the white chickens. Some of them died.”

In the doorway an elderly man of about sixty, with a white patriarchal beard, appeared. He held in his hand three eggs.

“Look at them, just look at them”, he said, showing the eggs to Raskin. “Real beauties, eh? Four years ago we certainly didn’t think we were going to have such eggs!”

I looked at the old man in amazement. There was so much love, so much emotion in his voice when he spoke about the eggs and the chickens. The discussion between Raskin and Nachman about the eggs and chickens was prolonged and technical. I understood very little.

SYMBOLIC TRANSFORMATION

It reminded me, however, of another discussion about eggs. Somewhere in the Talmud there is a reference to eggs. Years ago when I was a very young boy I remember bearded men discussing eggs. But they were only talmudical quibblings over theoretical eggs. Nachman’s, on the other hand, were real.

Later, Raskin told me the story of Nachman. It is at once an insignificant story and a great epic. Although it may not be universally true, it is nevertheless symbolic, of the transformation that has been taking place amongst the Russian Jews.

Nachman was a melamed in a little village in the Ukraine. The revolution that has abolished the priest and the Rabbi also abolished the trade of the melamed. Nachman and his wife became destitute. At first he sought to fool the Soviet officials. He devised a contraband scheme of teaching the Torah. While he would instruct a pupil in the Biblical wisdom his wife policed the door. This continued for several years.

One day both Nachman and his wife disappeared from the village. They were practically naked when they appeared at the kolchoz.

NOW A CHICKEN EXPERT

“I want to become a tiller of the soil”, said Nachman to the chairman of the kolchoz.

The chairman was sceptical. Nachman insisted. After much bickering and discussion, he was admitted to the kolchoz. His job was to take care of the chickens. When I saw him, he had already been at it four years. He learned to love the chickens. Nachman has become famous throughout the collective farms as a chicken expert.

To be concluded