Constantinople Memories—1917
(Of the Editorial Staff of the "Evening Post")
THE Jewish community in Constantinople is pervaded by a pleasant sense of unity and self-consciousness. Whether you are a Jew of the fashionable district of Pera or its slums, in Balata, or a Jew from far away America, you cannot long remain outside the stream of Jewish communal life. A few Austrian co-religionists managed to repel all advances of their brethren, notably a Viennese industrial magnate who had one of those equivocal names that may indicate either Jewish or gentile origin, to hold aloof, refusing to contribute to our joint philanthropies, on the ground that they did not believe in separate charities, but, with these few exceptions, every Jew, orthodox, reform, or free-thinker, had to come in and work with every other Jew for the salvation of the community.
IE EE IE IEE EE IDE IE IEEE The Ottoman government, with all its oppressions, has done one thing for its subject races that these cannot be too grateful for. The merit is not the Turk’s, intellectually or morally speaking, but springs out of his innate laziness. Bigoted only by fits and starts, he, on the whole, adopted the religious organizations of the Armenians, Greeks, Jews when he conquered Byzantine, and practically, from the beginning recognized them as the intermediaries between tax-collector and individual. As everybody knows, of course, this policy resulted in the perpetuation of race groups, of the Jews as well as others. All through the war, for instance, the government would negotiate through no other persons except those attached to the Grand Rabbinate in Constantinople.
In this they had some source of trouble, because there were factions opposed to the "Hacham-Bashi," who were afraid that authority would slip out of their hands. There were times when the relief committee formed by the American Embassy threatened to split wide open on account of these mutual jealousies. But in the last analysis, everybody united pretty well in the labor of saving what could be saved of the four hundred thousand Jews throughout the Empire who were facing starvation.
Everything was done by and through the Grand Rabbinate. The Grand Rabbi was a regular potentate, backed up still by memory of the days when he had power even in civilian matters, and had a jail of his own where he could stick refractory Rabbis. He was, however, by no means a terrifying personage, but quite the contrary, a mild-mannered gentleman, dreadfully upset by the troubles of his people, the eighty thousand Jews in Constantinople most of whom were on the very edge of starvation. I remember very well, Pesach of 1917, when there was a flour shortage for matzoths. The year before, Enver Pasha had come to the rescue, at the last minute, and presented the Grand Rabbi with a sufficient number of sacks of flour. But in 1917 Enver himself was powerless to supply what did not exist. As early as November, the Grand Rabbi’s council began its agitation for matzoth flour and finally, after making the lives of Enver, Talaat and the rest miserable, managed to get half enough. Came Pesach, and the allotment of matzoths,—and wailing crowds of suppliants at the gates of the Grand Rabbinate. Women broke open the iron grating of the little garden with its two magnolia trees, stormed by the two faithful Kapudji, and forced their way
into his Eminence's presence. But the latter could not give the suppliants more matzoths and he would not give them dispensation to eat bread. The alternative was very short, almost starvation, rations during Pesach for many persons already underfed. Other foods were extremely scarce. Surely, these people brought a real sacrifice of hunger to their religion.
The Grand Rabbi, himself, was a very mild gentleman, educated at the Sorbonne, Paris, very anxious to protect his people from Turkish persecution. Although feeling between him and the Austrian and German Jews were none too cordial, he having evinced fairly open sympathy for the French, yet, at a pinch, he also would live up to the hang-together spirit of oriental Jewry. I remember very well that a prominent leader of the opposed faction, an Ottoman by naturalization, but an Austrian by birth, found himself suddenly called to the colors for service in the Turkish army. Now, service for a non-Turk meant practically a death sentence. He was either put in the labor battalions, where he would die of overwork and starvation very soon, or, with “pull,” might land the job of interpreter, when he stood a chance of survival if he could outlive starvation and typhus. I came to the Grand Rabbi’s one afternoon and found him in a great state of excitement. “Something must be done for A.,” he said. “It cannot be allowed that he should perish in this miserable fashion.”
"But," I ventured, "you have always told me how you disliked this man—"
“Nonsense,” he retorted, “here is the case of a Jew!”
He said this as if the argument were entirely conclusive. And, in fact, he ventually made a place on the staff of the Grand Rabbinate for A Rabbi's organization were exempt.
Really, it is hard to convey to an American Jew who has never been in a country where this racial unity exists, the feeling of comfort derivable from such brotherhood. Since my college days, when our team had won its principle game, I have experienced nothing at all comparable. All through the Turkish service, wherever there was a desirable place, requiring intelligence, there you would find a Jew, put there, partly by his own brains, but also through the pull afforded by some other Jew. This combination of intelligence and community spirit it is which will account for the fact that the Levantine Jews, although one of the most poverty-stricken elements in Turkey, will come out of the war in better shape than any of the other oppressed races. This statement, naturally, does not intend to disparage America's generosity, either.
On the question of Zionism, the Jewish community of Constantinople was split wide open, but for reasons entirely different from those which agitate Jews on this side of the water. Zionism appeared in Turkey to be largely a question of temporary expediency, not theory. The government was against the foundation of a Jewish principality, refusing to give its consent to what it considered a Jewish separatist movement. So, naturally, all those persons who feared the government, came out against Zionism. The Grand Rabbi perhaps from a sense of duty, which drove him to do everything to conciliate the spirit of persecution crop-


