In the 1880s, with the Jews under Russian rule locked in a Pale of Settlement that was
a tightening noose, there ensued a tidal wave of movement that in the course of a few
decades was to bring millions of Jews to the United States. Most came with but a trifle of
funds, or were all but penniless.
Coming from lands backward in social and economic development, the immigrants were at a
loss to find themselves in the totally alien surroundings of American life. While grasping
with might and main for livelihood for most, via the sweatshop mute in the burgeoning
garment industry they had to piece together as best they could some provision for
religious needs and some format for the Jewish life. Among the oncoming thousands were
some few imbued with the radical notions of a new order of life and society that had begun
to find a following among the hard-pressed Jews of eastern Europe. Others came with
spiritual ties weakened by new-day influences, and were disposed to make getting ahead in
their new land the governing code of life. Most immigrants, however, were well entrenched
in the traditional religious life-pattern that had been absorbed from birth on amid an
intensely Jewish, Torah-oriented environment.
Many of these newcomers felt ill at ease in the unfamiliar atmosphere of the
established congregations. The greater tendency was to unite for provision of shared
religious needs with others from the same hometown or region. The little storefront or
back-of-the-workshop chevrah or shtibel that arose wherever the immigrant wave found
dwellings multiplied, some achieving sturdy permanence, others disappearing to be replaced
by newer groups, some evolving into large, fairly stable congregations, each with its own
cherished shul. Also taking shape were lantsmanshaften -hometown fraternities and mutual
aid societies, to buffer exigencies of illness or distress, and chevroth kadisha, sacred
societies to provide for care of the dying and interment.
Around these improvisations evolved a heterogeneity of further facilities for
observance of Jewish life: the inimitable cheder schools for the instruction of children
in the basics of Judaic knowledge; mikvaoth for family purity ritual ablutions; provisions
for kosher slaughter and purveying of meat and poultry; officiants for marriages and for
b'rith milah, circumcision pursuant to the Divine covenant with Abraham; sacred study
groups for the daily learning of Torah-the scriptural Torah with the favored commentaries,
the oral Torah embodied in the Talmud with its Mishnah and Gemara, and other cherished
treasures of Jewish heritage.
The aggregate whole was composed of diversities. Each of its many parts was a
spontaneous creation by the mitzvah-directed; each was an achievement by self-sacrificing,
deeply dedicated, self-prompted individuals and small groups. It was a many-handed work,
essentially a single-spirited work, a fife-generating commitment to the renewal of the
Jewish people and its Torah faith.
For all its greatness of spirit, however, it was an endeavor completely devoid of
central direction or collective planning; of any kind of broadly inclusive concerted
effort or group-to-group cooperation; of clear-voiced coherence. It was a phenomenon of
unsparing endeavor, of noble purpose. It was also a phenomenon of structural crudity and
communal chaos.
WITH A CRITICAL EYE
A graphic portrayal of conditions among Jews in America at the onset of mass
immigration from eastern Europe was penned in the 1880s by one of the participants, Moses
Weinberger, who came from Hungary. His book, Jews andjudaism in New York, first written
and published in Hebrew, now appears in English as translated and edited by Jonathan D.
Sama.1 Weinberger's observations, often sharp-edged and frequently
heavily sarcastic, like those of Benjamin 11 before him, are made with a critical but
concerned eye.
Weinberger notes, in the Sarna translation, that while "the number of organized
and settled" Orthodox congregations in New York then num bered 130, there were
actually many more-"small minyanim in private homes and houses of study, in lofts and
courtyards," bringing the total to about 300. In typical vein, he says that beyond
serving to provide twice-daily worship services and to meet members' needs, 'the more
exalted aim of the congregations is to build beautifully adomed synagogues.' With more
satisfaction, he tells that "the synagogues of our Orthodox brethren follow the Torah
and do not differ in any way from those of their fellow God-fearing Jews wherever they
might five." Only a few exceptions among them, he says, have undertaken such changes
as a slightly altering the place of the bimah" (from its normative location in the
center of the shul).
In the opening chapter of Jews and Judaism in New York, Weinberger asserts in caustic
vein:
Many synagogues have a beth hamidrash, a room for sacred studies . . . occasionally
this is opened by a few old men, who learn, so to speak, on one foot-a chapter of Mishnah
or a page of Gemara.... Un a few places] people regularly study Talmud in groups, but
their sessions ... are without depth and penetration.
Quite a different assessment is indicated, however, elsewhere in Weinberger's book. In
the Sama translation, in a letter to a friend in Hungary that appears as an appendix at
the end of the book, he writes in part:
Congregation Beth Hamedrash Hagodol in this city is old and wealthy, its beth hamidrash
is large-five hundred students could find a place there-its synagogue is a huge,
magnificent building . . . and most of its members are prosperous and prominent. Even
those who know Torah are great merchants.
The Hungarian Congregation Beth Hamedrash Hagodol, however, is poor and young. Its beth
hamidrash is small. Its members are mostly all people who support themselves with
difficulty with the work of their own hands.
Although things have not gone exactly as the founders [of the Hungarian Beth Hamedrash
Hagodol] wanted.... most of its members are acquainted with God's Torah and many are
excellent scholars who set special times aside for Torah study. This, to be sure, is not a
rare phenomenon in this city. Among our Russian and Polish brothers, we see this in almost
every large congregation, especially in flarge] Congregation Beth Hamedrash Hagodol
mentioned above. Even uptown there is a congregation named Orach Chayint, whose members
are wealthy and completely German and who gather daily after Minchah [the afternoon
prayers] to enjoy Torah study. (italicization added)
But here Weinberger, returning to his more customary tone, adds: "But will their
children follow in their ways? I doubt it very much; at this time we have no hope at all.
Only time will tell." With all too evident reasons, a bleak vista is offered by this
1880s settler of the state of affairs in regard to authoritative determination of matters
of Jewish law and the exposition of Torah teachings.
In this great city (New York] of 100,000 Jews and 130 [established Orthodox]
congregations, there are no more than three or four superior court [Beth Din] rabbis,
rabbis who decide what is prohibited and permitted. They located their positions only
after a great deal of trouble and effort. . . . Their regular salaries are so small it
would be shameful to record the amount in print . . . a small communal stipend combined
with a few isolated gifts barely cover their basic human needs.
Among the incoming thousands were many who in their former homes had served religious
functions held in high esteem. Now, in their NewWorld haven, "Musar magidim,
ba"aley agadah, and darshanim [expounders, respectively, of ethical teachings,
homiletic lore, and biblical direction] are found here by the hundreds, but only a few
succeed in acquiring positions."
STRUGGLING WITH SHOCK AND SHAME
Although lightened at a few points by more encouraging indications, Moses Weinberger's
contemporary 1800s portrayal of what was becoming the most populous urban center of Jewry
in the world presented a panorama of shaken standards, misplaced priorities, vain values,
and general disorder. Above all, the state of kashruth, observance of the laws pertaining
to food and particularly to Shechitah, had sunk to a disastrous level.
All other records of this time and of the years following reveal much the same shocking
picture of conditions in the slaughter, distribution, and vending of supposedly kosher
meat and poultry. The following few passages from Weinberger's work are illustrative:
Shochatim and butchers are perfectly independent here; neither they nor their work is
inspected. Congregations do not hire their own Shochatim, and Shechitah here can be
undertaken by anybody who finds an opening.... The upshot is that in our slaughterhouses
each man takes what he can get.... [But] in our community there are, thank God, also
outstanding shochatim. They have certificates from leading rabbis in Europe attesting to
their skiffs, their good conduct, and their piety. Since the city government ordained that
it was henceforth illegal to keep live poultry for sale in the stores, and that all
poultry must be slaughtered in a specified spot outside the city, we now face a whole new
series of terrible obstacles.
It is very narrow and forever filled with rivers of mud, mire, and blood.
Throngs of frightened, impetuous people stand crowded together, pushing each other. The
shochatim lack room to turn, hardly able to even move their hands. Since most of the
poultry is slaughtered on Sabbath eve or on Thursday, every slaughterhouse boss wants to
get a headstart to get to market as early as possible. The shochet therefore must
sometimes slay as many as 200 birds 'in one breath." Woe to the pious and
God-fearing, but the commands of the boss standing over him take precedence. So the
shochet, though his soul troubles him, continues so long as he has strength within him.
The shochet knows that he did not properly sharpen the knife, inspect it more than once,
and even then in a great hurry. But what can the wretchedly poor shochet do? He has to
maintain his wife and children, and this is his one source of support. . . . The
salesman-butchers: As far as many of them are concerned, any slaughtered fowl with blood
removed is marketable, even if the shochet admits that he slaughtered impermissibly.
We see sometimes shochatim who look as if they learned their art a month before they
left their native lands. [Others had] served in this profession but became corrupted and
were removed from office by the rabbis. Now they have come here to try their hand again.
Finally there are those who . . . after years in other fields became poultry slaughterers
overnight. The newcomer here does not realize how different the situation is here from
that which existed in his old small town. . . . Who could force the butcher here to show
what is back in the ice house, or what was hidden in holes and crevices? So great is the
scandal in this great city that thousands of honest families who fear and tremble at the
thought of straying into one tiny prohibition or sin never suspect that they are eating
all kinds of unkosher meat.
CHEDER: TEN CENTS A WEEK
Weinberger was aghast, too, at the educational failings in those days of inpouring
immigration: "Our faithful Orthodox brethren, who revel in their own piety and
righteousness . . . allow their sons to grow up without Torah and faith." Of the
innumerable private cheder classes where sorely pressed, self-appointed instructors
struggled to impart to clusters of unruly youngsters the rudiments of Jewish knowledge, he
writes:
Chadarim, where teachers give instruction in Aleph-Beth and Hebrew reading, are found
here in abundance. Many teachers have issued a handbill in which they agree to teach any
Jewish child, however he may be-rich or poor, bright or dull-for only ten cents a week, or
forty cents a month. Obstinate householders tell themselves that just as the price has
fallen, it will fall again. . . . We have already heard melamdim whispering that if they
cannot improve their lot they will abandon teaching completely and return to sewing
clothes, tanning leather, or making shoes-each to the type of job he performed in his
native land.
The author of Jews and Judaism in New York adds that:
More advanced teachers with wisdom and learning are also to be found here in abundance.
But they find it impossible to use their knowledge. During the time when the Hungarian or
Polish Jewish youngster was brought to a level where he could understand the Prophets and
listen to rigorous Biblical and legal (Halachic] studies, the American youngster is merely
able to stammer a few words of English-style Hebrew, to pronounce the blessing over the
Torah, and to chant half the Maftir on the day he turns thirteen-a day that is celebrated
here as the greatest of holidays among our Jewish brethren. From that day onward a
youngster considers his teacher to be an unwanted article . . . he forgets all he has
learned.
Better promise is also to be found, however. Weinberger tells us:
There are two Talmud Torah schools for children of the poor. One of them is about to
collapse for lack of support. The second (Machzike Talmud Torah) still stands strong at
Number 83 East Broadway. Some 400 students study there. This house of study was set up
four years ago (1888) through the efforts of lovers of their people and religion whose
spirits never darkened, no matter how they toiled. They let money flow from their own
pockets, knocked on the doors of large donors. . . . Finally they succeeded: a miracle, a
true wonder: The teachers, all men of wisdom and learning, perform their work with perfect
integrity. According to many who understand the field of education, this school can
compete successfully with any school of its kind in our native lands.
AT LAST- A YESHIVAH
With special -and, to him, unexpected - cause for rejoicing, Weinberger reports of a
new development:
We just heard the pleasant news that in recent days, a new school has been established
here called Yeshivath Etz Chaim for the study of Mishnah and Talmud, that is, Gemara,
Rashi, and Tosafoth. Fifteen hundred people are supposed to be standing ready to finance
the building and appoint eminent teachers who will receive their salaries in honorable
fashion from a large cornmunity fund. All is said to be prepared. . . . Hurrah! How
lovely, how dear! A yeshivah for Mishnah and Gemara! How much good is hidden in those
words. I can hardly believe my own ears; is this possible, can it be? Here in New York? In
America?
Yes, events soon proved that it was, indeed, not only possible, but a fulfilled
reality. Yeshivath Etz Chaim was duly established, functioned steadily, and presently
merged with a kindred institution that had soon come into being, Yeshivath Rabbi Yitzchak
Elchanan, the Rabbi Isaac Elchanan Theological Seminary. Long serving as the only
postelementary yeshivah on the American continent, the Rabbi Isaac Elchanan Yeshivah is
the core institution from which sprang Yeshiva College and, then, the Yeshiva University
of today.
Among several other areas of the 1880s New York Jewish scene dealt with in the cited
source, Weinberger brings home the grim hardships of the immigrant fife of that time:.
Those expertly learned in the Torah, the Talmud, and the wisdom of our blessed rabbis
are, thank God, numerous in this city. Some of them settled in this land years ago, and
have been blessed with wealth, honor, and property. The bulk of the learned, however, are
wretchedly poor immigrants who have come here only in the last few years. They have
abandoned their Torah (leaming) only from necessity-much against their will. They spend
all their time toiling.
These impoverished ones share occupations well known (as those of Jews coming from
eastern Europe): tailoring, sewing, and ironing-all in the garment trade; portering:
pack-carrying [peddling]; and begging. But what else can the unfortunate refugees do? For
if they do not save themselves on the strength of their own blood, sweat, and tears,
they'll be lost forever. So much of their time do these people spend on burdensome labors
that all their days are used up. When they return home in the evening or dead of night
exhausted, all their cravings have left them; they are happy just to find a place to rest
from toil, sadness, and rage. They work entirely in order to eat; daily bread is their
reward and portion.
We know now that, whether or not Moses Weinberger's words, "To our brothers in
Russia, Poland, and Hungary . . . listen to us: tough it out and stay home," reached
their target, two million more Jews came from those parts to the New World in the few
decades following. Others migrated elsewhere, some found their way to the land of
Israel-and some six million remained.
OBSERVANCE IN BETTER VIEW
As was noted earlier, in his letter to his friend in Hungary that appeared in an
appendix, Moses Weinberger's passing comments on aspects of the New York scene are in
different vein from that found in the book proper. Thus, in the course of the letter, we
find:
With regard to Sabbath observance -the stopping of manual labor and other work in
factories, stores, and businesses -hundreds and even thousands of people are careful. In
many New York streets and markets you won't find even one open store. The Shabbath
tranquility compares favorably to that found in most Jewish areas [in the old country]. On
the other hand, there is a great deal of laxity with regard to the prohibitions against
carrying, handling forbidden articles, and doing indirect business.
With regard to the mitzvah of Sukkoth, people are now far more scrupulous than in
previous years. When I arrived here, I found not more than one or two sukkahs in the
entire neighborhood where I five. Now, just on the street where I have my business, there
are more than twenty-though most people honor their obligation simply by making Kiddush in
the sukkah and then return home for the Festival meals.
The dosing recommendations of the author of Jews and Judaism in New York call for the
uniting of the congregations into one central force "for all matters that relate to
the community as a whole"; each congregation to have at its head a Ray, a rabbi
"of stature and greatness in Torah, wisdom, and piety to guide them, instruct them,
and tell them how to act"; and the creation of "a Chief Rabbinate or Jewish
Supreme Court," and the raising of "the dignity of and concern with Torah, its
investigation, and its study."
Unknown, probably, to Moses Weinberger, others who also had pondered the same problems
with no less concern had reached similar conclusions. With spiritual chaos worsening as
the mass influx continued to mount, action became imperative.