The Revival of Palestine as Seen by a Rumanian Novelist
The Rumanian weekly "Flacara," a literary magazine edited by Constantin Banu, who is also editor of the Bucharest daily "Vittorul," the organ of the National Liberal Party, publishes the following impressions written by the well known Rumanian novelist, Ioan Chiru-Nanov. The author, who is a Christian, visited the colony Tel-Aviv accompanied by the captain of a Rumanian steamer. Here are the notes from the pen of a Rumanian writer full of admiration for Zionist achievements. To those who know the conditions in Rumania, it may seem improbable to see a magazine giving place in its columns for an article of this kind.
" ET'S go into the garden," said Schoenberg in a friendly manner.
We took our places at the little table shaded by an orange tree loaded with ripe fruit. The captain stretched out his hand toward a golden orange hanging over him:
"May I, Mr. Schoenberg?"
"Certainly. Please take one."
"We have two cases full of them on the steamer, and I don't eat. But this one invites me."
"A fruit is more tasteful when you pick it off the tree yourself," said the host smiling in his white beard, "especially as in your, or rather in our case, we have no such trees at home."
"Have you been here a long time, Mr. Schoenberg?"
I asked him.
“A very long time, indeed. It is almost thirty years since I left Jassy and established myself here, in Jaffa.”
“And in all this time have you ever visited Rumania ?”
"I was there twice, long ago. I have relatives there still."
"Do you sometimes long for Rumania?" I asked him suddenly.
Schoenberg passed his hand over his forehead:
"The days of childhood leave a powerful impression in one's memories. . . The valley of Bahluiu, the Copou-Park. . . As though it were yesterday."
Then looking straight into my face:
"You cannot imagine how happy I am when I meet Rumanians. And all, when they come, are informed that there is one here who knows their language. So they always find me out, and if not, I look them up."
Schoenberg talks slowly, waiting for the word to come to him. One can see that he has lost the ability to speak Rumanian. But the expressions he utters are beautiful and the accent is like old Moldavian. He tells us that at the beginning it was very hard for him. He was a stranger, did not have any friends, did not know the language, and thirty years ago the Rumanians came rarely to Jaffa. On Schoenberg's face are depicted traces of a stormy life. Now, however, he is content. His dry-goods store is well-patronized and any Arab you ask will lead you to Schoenberg.
“I have a countryman here,” said he, “Silbermann,—he comes from Galatz and represents several leather factories of Rumania.”
"Which language is spoken here most?" I asked him.
"In Jaffa French and Italian, but mostly French. In the interior of Palestine the Arabic language."
"What? Not the Turkish?"
"The least known language is Turkish. The Arabic idiom suppresses it."
"But cannot the Turks, who have the administration in their hands, force their language upon them?"
Schoenberg shook his head:
"The Turks will never force them. They are the laziest people in the world. And then the Mahommedan subjects tell them that Mahommed himself was an Arab, and this argument closes the discussion with the Turks. The Turks are masters here only in name. Actually, all is in the hands of foreigners. The banks are French and German, the trade is English and Italian. The Germans have also a few colonies."
"But the Jews—how are they situated?" I inquired about the nation which interested me most in this place.
"They are pretty well off now."
"Is that so?" said I, astonished.
“Oh, yes. In Jaffa’s vicinity alone there are almost thirty colonies of Jews gathered from all the corners of the earth, and especially from Russia.”
"And what are they doing here? Agriculture?" interrupted the captain, putting a velvety larkspur into his button-hole.
"Systematic agriculture! They bought up the wild land from the Arabs, and now the former owners do not recognize it. For the Arabs these fields were just so much trouble. Now they are happy because in time of an economic crisis they have where to labor and with what to satisfy their hunger. You know, when the Arab is fed and has a few cents besides, he will not work any more for anything in the world."
Then with a serene look, full of gaiety, Schoenberg continued:
"Here at the end of the city, within a quarter of an hour's ride, is situated the Jewish colony Tel-Aviv, which enjoys complete autonomy. The Turkish authorities do not interfere in its communal affairs. And to cite a few others, there is also the colony Petach-Tikwah, the largest in Palestine, which cultivates oranges and numbers 1500 inhabitants. There is also the Rischon le Zion colony, established by Baron de Rothschild. Rischon le Zion cultivates the vine which produces the best wine of Palestine. In the neighborhood are also the colonies: Katra, founded by the Jewish students of Russia, which cultivates the vine, wheat and almond; Ekron and Rechobot, with their vast olive-gardens. The number of colonies is growing fast; each year a new one is added to those already settled. Besides, a great number of charitable institutions, all of which aim to aid the Jewish families and give them work, have been established. These in-