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Harbin, Heilongjiang PROVINCE, China |
A BRIEF HISTORY OF THE JEWS OF HARBIN
How a Manchurian Fishing Village Became a Railroad Town and a Haven for Jews
By
Born out of a free-will business adventure and voluntary resettlement from
Russia, the Jewish community of
Harbin
wrote a unique chapter in the history of the Diaspora. Starting with the
settlement of the first Jewish family at the end of the 19th century, Harbin’s
Jews arrived at a particularly fortunate moment in time. They enjoyed the “boom
town” experience that accompanied frontier expansion, as well as the cultural
development nurtured by the wealth of new entrepreneurs.
This distinguished many of them from the refugees
characterized by misfortune and distress who later settled in such Chinese
cities as Shanghai. For most members of the Harbin Jewish community, the sojourn in China meant the start of a new, prosperous and dynamic life.
By the end of the
19th century, Jews in Czarist Russia were desperate to escape the country’s
poverty, pogroms and institutionalized anti-Semitism. Visas to America did not
grow on trees, and Jews had trouble obtaining permits for any kind of travel,
even within Russia. However, in a little known footnote to history, the Czar who
plagued and reviled his Jewish subjects also offered them an out.
The
Russian government in 1895 had leased a land concession from China to build the
Chinese Eastern Railway across Manchuria as an extension of the cross-country
Trans-Siberian line. Once the tracks were laid, the Czar was so eager to
establish Russia’s economic hold along the route that he offered Jews a chance
to live without restrictions if they moved to Manchuria. They could chose
between small communities in the Manchurian outback or the larger settlement of
Harbin, which means “place of drying fish nets” in Chinese. Originally
a cluster of sleepy fishing villages at the confluence of the
The Czar’s
offer had its drawbacks. Ukrainian Jews from the Pale of Settlement had to
summon their courage, pack their possessions, turn their backs on all that was
familiar and face several uncomfortable and uneasy weeks on the Trans-Siberian
railroad to reach Harbin. Siberian Jews, just across the border from Manchuria,
faced a shorter train trip but a similar plunge into the unknown. Harbin winters
were bitterly cold, and in spring, gritty dust from Mongolia turned the skies
yellow and covered every surface, animal, vegetable and mineral. In the early
years, European-style amenities were few and far between, and Jewish
institutions were nonexistent.
Despite these
deterrents, waves of Russian pogroms provided Harbin with a steady supply of
Jewish residents. Demobilized Jewish soldiers settled in Harbin at the end of
the Russo-Japanese War in 1905, and more Russian refugees, both Jewish and
gentile, arrived during and after World War I and the Bolshevik Revolution.
Although
desperation led many Jews to China, a large number new “Harbiners” also welcomed
the opportunity to be pioneers in an uncharted land. The railroad brought
prosperity and a need for all types of goods and services. Even better, local
Chinese had no tradition of anti-Semitism. Word spread fast in the old
countries: a Jew could live in Harbin without fear of persecution
-- and make a nice living, too.
The railroad
engineering bureau moved to Harbin from Vladivostok in 1898 to begin
construction. The first Jew, S.I. Bertsel, arrived in 1899.
Shortly thereafter, the first Harbin “minyan” took place. By 1900, the
town had 45 Jews, and by the end of 1902, Harbin had 300 Jews and more than 10
Jewish-owned shops.
Although
figures vary, the Harbin Jewish population reportedly topped 20,000 at its peak
in the 1920s. There were two major synagogues, the Main or “Old” Synagogue and
the New Synagogue. The Jewish community also established a library, a Talmud
Torah, an elementary and a secondary school, a cemetery, a women’s charitable
organization, a soup kitchen, a home for the aged and a Jewish hospital, which
treated both Jews and non-Jews.
Jews were furriers, bankers,
bakers, shopkeepers, restaurateurs, teachers and people of letters and the arts.
They owned coal mines, lumber mills, breweries and candy factories. The
Jewish-owned Hotel Moderne boasted a restaurant, a cinema, a billiard room, a
bar and a barber shop. Because of its ornate, European-inspired architecture,
Harbin became known as the “Oriental St. Petersburg” and the “Paris of the
Orient”.
Its rich cultural life led to the nickname “City of Music.”
Between 1918
and 1930, about 20 Jewish newspapers and periodicals were published in Harbin.
All but one – the Yiddish Der Vayter Mizrekh (The Far East) - were in
Russian. Russian was the lingua franca for Jews and gentiles alike, as well as
for their Chinese employees and business associates. Modern Mandarin speakers in
Harbin still use a number of Russian loan words, such as lie-ba for
bread, from the Russian khleba.
Zionism became
a force during the leadership of Dr. Abraham I. Kaufman (1885-1971), who headed
the Harbin Jewish community before and during the Japanese invasion of
Manchuria. The Harbin Jewish Women’s Association, linked to the Women’s
International Zionist Organization (WIZO), was established in 1922. Several
Zionist youth organizations were active as well. The largest was Betar, which
sponsored sports, scouting and other recreational activities as well as social
action. Betar was the Hebrew abbreviation for Union of Trumpeldor, named for
Joseph Trumpeldor, a Russian Jewish soldier who, on the way to a prison camp in
Japan, passed through Harbin in 1905 and was killed in battle in Palestine in
1920.
Inspired in
part by these Zionist activities, many Harbin residents made “aliyah” to Israel
both before and after World War II. (In Chinese, “aliyah” is written as: 犹太人向以色列之移居,
literally meaning “Jew direction Israel him/her migrate”.) There they
formed
Igud Yotzei Sin, the Association of
Former Residents of China, whose members also include former residents of other
cities in China.
In spite of
their energy, enthusiasm and organization, Harbin Jews couldn’t avoid the dark
clouds coming their way. World War I and the Russian Revolution brought scores
of anti-Bolshevik White Russians to Harbin, along with a virulent strain of
anti-Semitism. Although anti-Semitism was never institutionalized in Harbin as
it was in Russia, bullying of Jews by Russian hooligans became common.
The Harbin
Russian Fascist Party was established in 1931, the same year the Japanese Army
invaded Manchuria. Japanese troops occupied Harbin in 1932, and the city became
part of the puppet state of Manchukuo. The Japanese
immediately began expropriating private property and terrorizing the
civilian population. They recruited spies among the locals and allowed Russian
fascists to spearhead anti-Soviet and anti-Jewish campaigns. Foreigners as well
as Chinese were kidnapped, tortured and often murdered by the occupying army and
its collaborators. Fearing for their lives, ordinary citizens had no recourse
against these injustices.
Many of the
incidents were muddied by double-dealing, with the Japanese using Russians
gangsters and Chinese bandits as a front. One such case was the
kidnapping and murder of Simeon Kaspe, a
brilliant young concert pianist and naturalized French citizen. Simeon was the
son of Russian-born Joseph Kaspe, who owned the Hotel Moderne as well as a large
jewelry store and a chain of theaters. When Joseph Kaspe refused to negotiate
with the kidnappers, they sent him his son’s ears. Simeon was tortured for
several months and eventually killed, while Japanese authorities ignored both
the French consul’s protests and widespread international outrage.
Jews began
fleeing Harbin for Tientsin, Shanghai and abroad. By the end of World War II,
only about 2,000 Harbin Jews were left to greet the city’s new authorities. The
Soviet Army had taken over from the Japanese. Between 1945 and 1947, the Soviets
arbitrarily arrested a number of Jews and “repatriated” them to Russian gulags.
Following the
victory of the Red Army in 1949, Harbin became part of the People’s Republic of
China, and about 1,000 Jews left for Israel. By 1955, only 319 Jews were left to
maintain community institutions. The community continued to dwindle until its
last Harbin member died in 1985.
In recent
years, the Chinese government has officially recognized the historic importance
of the Harbin Jewish community in an effort to promote tourism and deepen
economic ties with other countries, including Israel. Some of the remaining
Jewish-built structures sport multilingual historic plaques. Both synagogues
have been refurbished. The Main Synagogue is now a “no-star” hotel and
guesthouse of the Harbin Railway Department. The New Synagogue houses the Harbin
Jewish History and Culture exhibition.
About 600
graves from the original Jewish cemetery in central Harbin were moved to an
eastern part of the city in 1952. Former Harbiners and their descendents from
around the world have visited
Huangshan Jewish Cemetery to pay their respects. In 2004, when he was
Israel’s vice premier and trade minister, Ehud Olmert left a stone on the tomb
of his grandfather Joseph Olmert, who died in Harbin in 1941.
In 2002,
Professor Dan Ben-Canaan was proclaimed by the Heilongjiang Academy of Social
Sciences as the first Jew to settle in Harbin in the 21st century. He
teaches in the School of Western Studies of Heilongjiang University and is
director of the Sino-Israel
Research and Study Center there, which maintains extensive archives on
Harbin Jewish history. The center also produces films and articles and
disseminates information throughout China and abroad on the subject of the
Harbin Jewish community.
Former
Harbiners and their descendents have put down roots in the U.S., Israel, Europe,
Australia, Canada and other countries. Many of them have maintained a connection
with each other across oceans and continents. They also have preserved a deep
respect for the Chinese people, who welcomed Jews without prejudice and provided
asylum during difficult times.
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Copyright © 2007 Irene Clurman