Bialik, the Hebrew poet who received such a warm welcome from American Jews, is far away from these shores. Dispatches state that a similarly warm reception was accorded him in Paris last week. His impression of American Jewry and particularly of the Zionist public, with whom he came in closer contact, as summarized in his interview before his departure, was not very complimentary. The public, which is usually extremely sensitive to criticism, however, has its own way with poets. It was not long ago that the artist, particularly the man of Jewish letters, was a total stranger within the gates. The artist of old would have been grateful for even being noticed, be it with criticism, let alone applauded and welcomed.
But times have changed. The artists are overwhelmed with attention and the limelight of publicity. They have a hard time escaping to the seclusion so necessary for their creative work.
Perhaps it was in this sense that the American Jewish public did not deliver the “consequences” of Bialik’s criticism. Besides, Bialik, as the quintessence of the Hebraic aspiration, is entitled to ask for more and to aspire to a higher level, the level which he probably knows so well.
However, even Bialik was not entirely spared from the consequences of controversy, with which Jewish life in America was so rife during the recent heat wave. In the noise of New York metropolitan life, of public banquets and money-raising gatherings, to the accompaniment of subways, elevators and streetcars, Bialik found a moment of seclusion in which to pick up a thread of his creative genius, which has been silent for a number of years. He wrote a poem of the Great City. . . .
The great American metropolis under whose pressure of life the poem was written did not fare better at Bialik’s pen than did American Jewry.
“Yenasser Lo Chilvavo” is the name of the beautiful poem, which is the center of discussion in New York’s Hebrew literary circle.[1] The burden of the poem is the arrival and penetration of Spring through the asphalt, brick, iron and steel structure of the Great City and the perpetual superiority and beauty of the smallest blade of grass over the huge and powerful structures of modern civilization.
“Let the noise of the metropolis roar as it passes,
“Let the exploiter and exploited perish in the stench of their exploitation,
“Let the smoke of its chimneys darken the blue of the seven skies,
“Spring in its eternal law, sweet, pure and tender,
“Will come through millions of cracks and will flourish.”
Thus Bialik begins his description of Spring in the Great City.
“And I said in my heart, Nest of Satan
“The source of all mankind’s plagues, the bosom of all horrors, the city which God’s grace has despised and where God’s eye will not rest,
“Your end is the end of Sodom and Nineveh.
“When the Day will come, the Day of Judgment,
“When you will have grown very high,
“And your burden will be too heavy,
“When your yoke will become too irksome,
“You will fall to pieces
“Like a straw hut.”
Here are a few of the poet’s visions of the Great City. Those who read poetry with prosaic eyes resent these visions. “New York has not treated the poet so badly that he should predict for it the end of Nineveh,” they mutter. The lovers of poetry laugh at the resentment and are happy that New York, with its splendor and hugeness, has awakened in the Hebrew poet his harp and has brought out tones reminiscent of those of the Hebrew prophets of old.
* * *
The “national minorities” or the “minority rights” with which American Jewish leadership had much to do in the post-war days are again on the agenda. They came up for discussion in connection with the act of the seventy Turkish Jewish notables who met in what was termed a “Jewish national assembly of Turkey” to renounce the claim of Turkish Jewry to the national minority rights guaranteed to it under the terms of the Treaty of Lausanne. This step of the Turkish notables was taken under the pressure of Kemal Pasha’s dictatorial government and under promise of stopping the reprisals and returning confiscated property. The right of the Turkish Jews to arrange their internal religious affairs, [and to] maintain their educational and communal organizations, is now left to the mercy of the all-powerful Kemal Pasha government.
Have the Turkish Jewish notables done well? ask some. Was it expedient? Will the deal bring beneficial results? others ask. There is confusion and misunderstanding on the subject. The other day I was surprised when an otherwise learned gentleman displayed great astonishment when he heard that Jews were fighting for minority rights. Why, he said, “minority rights,” do they fight for less rights? What is the idea of guaranteeing them minority rights?
That is the point. The minority rights were intended to prevent a situation where Jews who are citizens of East European countries would have less rights than were coming to them and less than the rights guaranteed to every American by the United States Constitution. They were written into the international peace treaties and America, as well as American Jews, had a whole lot to do with it.
It was under the influence of Wilson’s fourteen points and his theory of the self-determination of small peoples that these clauses were made a part of international law. European Jews were then grateful to the leadership of American Jews, headed by Louis Marshall, who, in Paris, worked indefatigably toward that end. It is tragic to see that now, eight years later, disappointment with the slow realization of these treaties has led to this action of [the] Turkish Jewish leaders and to a growing misunderstanding of the original intentions of these clauses. It is reassuring to again hear the voice of Louis Marshall thundering powerfully to instill confidence and self-respect in the hearts of the Jewish minorities.
“I would rather die ten thousand deaths than to show myself so lacking in manly courage as to sell my birthright of liberty and equality for temporary safety.”
His words will be heard throughout Europe.
[1] The translation from the Hebrew original into English seems to have been done by William Z. Spiegelman himself.
No comments:
Post a Comment