THE FOUNDING OF HABONIM (1930-1935)

My recollections of the founding of Habonim are drawn from memory since none of us in the 1930's thought of himself as "making history"; none kept diaries, none even recorded systematically the sequence of events. Consequently I will not be surprised if here and there errors will creep into my account. 

We had a sense of importance, else we wouldn't have devoted endless days and nights to wrangling, traveling, pleading, and plodding for the movement. There was a sense of exhilaration and vitality, a thrill of creating something new; but whether it was the natural enthusiasm of our youth or a subconscious realization of importance is a moot question.

We had been under the emotional stress of two traumatic experiences in 1929. Jewishly we were upset by the Palestine riots, during which the Arabs went on a rampage. At the Young Poale Zion convention of 1929 a standing oath was taken by the entire body to go to Palestine within one year. (One person kept the pledge, the then secretary, and he returned after a short period.) On the general scene we were profoundly shaken by the 1929 stock-market crash and the subsequent depression. It is difficult to conceive what a sense of helplessness engulfed the country after the crash. Not only the headlines of tycoons turned paupers, news of millionaire suicides, confusing government statements, wild predictions and premonitions by economists, but gnawing doubts about the very foundation of our society upset every American.  

Those of us who were then in the Young Poale Zion had the answers. We knew that Zionism would solve the Jewish problem; socialism, the problem of society as a whole. Our only question was how to carry our message across to the "masses." Fundamentally our problem was that of communication and method.
Moshe Cohen of Minneapolis replaced Shlomo Katz (from St. Paul) as national secretary in 1930. For almost three years he grappled with organizational issues and tried to increase the membership and heighten the enthusiasm. He paid special attention to the younger section, then known as Buds (a translation from the Yiddish knospen and symbolizing the verdant blossoming of spring) and Intermediates. He devised an educational system based on much extensive use of the English language. The content was a simplified version of the Poale Zion political program, which was expressed by the triple slogan of "Zionism, Socialism, and Diaspora Emancipation." The older section of the Young Poale Zion Alliance, known as Yugnt (youth), was indistinguishable from the elder Poale Zion except in age and the more prevalent use of English. 

The big issue of the 1931 convention was whether the youth publication be entirely in Yiddish or one half in English. For three years Moshe and his chaverim on the national executive committee struggled. Moshe toured the country, taught songs, prodded, worked; but, in the end, he returned home in 1932, exhausted and displeased. I was then studying psychology at the University of Minnesota and Moshe assumed that I knew something about education. Since I was already a movement veteran of five years' standing, Moshe felt free to pour out his heart to me about the obstacles in the jungle of New York. Furthermore, he was obligated morally to me because he had tricked me into joining the movement. In 1929, I was actively interested in a Hebrew language club at our Minneapolis Talmud Torah. Moshe told me of a national Hebrew movement, and Shlomo Katz wrote me a letter in Hebrew all the way from New York. I was impressed, and we established a Hebrew-speaking Young Poale Zion among the Talmud Torah pupils. (Original members included the older Guttman brothers—Zvi, who is now in Afikim, and Nachum, of the Israel Histadrut Campaign.) By 1933 we were all deeply involved in Young Poale Zion affairs, with little reference to our original, purely cultural intentions.

Moshe brooded at home. Why had he failed? Why was there no real progress? Was the ideology at fault? Was he personally inadequate? Nachum, Moshe, and I sat up many nights discussing—or, more correctly, listening—to Moshe's emotional and intellectual torment. Simultaneously, a practical minded member, Yehuda Strimling, who is now at Bet Herut, had no patience with talk and decided that action was needed. He had seen the Baltimore hachshara (training) farm on a recent trip and decided that only a hachshara farm could save the movement. There we were, Nachum and I, torn between the dreamer and the man of action. We were all of twenty years old then, totally inadequate to decide the issue; and, torn between the opposing forces, we accepted the inevitable and yielded to both. We worked with Yehuda to involve the whole Jewish community in setting up a farm, and we met with Moshe to talk of education and techniques. We divided our resources; Nachum entered the University agricultural school, and I pursued my psychology. By 1934, both had succeeded. Yehuda had his hachshara farm; Moshe Cohen had a memorandum.

In the late summer of 1934, a meeting of the elders of the Young Poale Zion Alliance was convened at Accord, New York, to consider the state of affairs. Membership had declined. Dues income was at
an all-time low. It was decided to follow the Palestinian pattern and have a semi-formal gathering called pegisha. It would not have the formal authority of a convention, but it would have the advantage of untrammeled discussion and the moral force of the movement leaders' consensus. Since I was coming to New York to study at a social work school, I was asked to arrive in time to participate in the pegisha.

Moshe Cohen was ready to return to the national office in New York but only on condition that his memorandum be accepted at the pegisha. I was given the memo, and he asked me to present it at 
Accord. Jacob Katzman had meanwhile sponsored another candidate of Toronto, a traditional, politically-oriented Young Poale Zionist. With him came a strong Toronto delegation determined to elect its man. In a certain sense the pegisha was a Minneapolis-Toronto conflict. In the preliminary skirmish we lost. Katzman refused to place on the agenda for consideration of the memorandum as a unit, and the pegisha backed him. We then proceeded to debate paragraph by paragraph and at times, sentence by sentence. In that tedious debate victory slowly swung westward; and, fortunately, it became evident that the differences were not as irreconcilable as originally conceived.

What were the essential issues? To begin with, there was the problem of Yiddish. No one denied a fundamentally positive attitude to the folk culture, the literature, the wisdom, tradition, and emotional value of Yiddish. We questioned the practicability of stressing Yiddish as the main medium of expression. By insisting on Yiddish as an end in itself, we were narrowing our membership base to newly arrived immigrants and were doomed to gradual extinction. Canada, with a later Jewish immigration, was somewhat less affected. (The more realistic Canadians were on our side.) The older Poale Zion were on the defensive against the rabid anti-Zionist Yiddishists and were under compulsion to prove their loyalty. We had no such obligations. The late Yoel Entin, the immutable and immovable rock of Yiddish in our movement, reported at a Poale Zion convention that a group of antiYiddishists (Yiddish fresser) from Minneapolis had come to New York to ruin the movement. An anecdote will illustrate the emotional undertones of the period. Years later, in 1946, I met Entin in a restaurant and asked him what he now thought. That was the time when Habonim was contributing volunteers to man refugee boats, volunteer pilots, and chalutzim, and was in the forefront of the political struggle in America. He lifted his eyes and mellowly replied, "Yes, yes, you are doing great things, but why couldn't you do all this in Yiddish?"

The second main issue was whether a youth could be political or not. Those trained in the European tradition saw no flaw in a "kid" of fourteen accepting a life commitment to a specific party program. The endless refrain was "when I was twelve, etc." We saw no hope in such an approach. No American organization would tolerate outright indoctrination of youngsters. We insisted that youth be educated, motivated, inspired, activated, but not indoctrinated. There was much arguing and quibbling on what constituted indoctrination and what was motivation. The lines were drawn on the issue of education versus a political program. The compromise was an agreement that we be educational up to the age of eighteen and political thereafter.

Our third fundamental point of issue was that of Palestinocentrism. Would we stress Hebrew terminology and culture and strive toward chalutzim and aliya) or would we be an American labor and socialist youth movement with Palestine sentiment? The issue had already been decided in fact but not in official statement. Our summer camping program was called "Camp Kvutza"; our songs were, in ever increasing numbers, Palestinian; there was a prevalent view that we should invite shlichim (representatives) from Palestine; collections for strike funds, May First celebrations, and other labor activities were decreasing. We had become true Zionists but were not fully prepared to admit the fact because our ideology clearly stated that the two goals of socialism and Zionism were of equal importance. The pegisha did not resolve the verbal conflict but did clearly indicate the need for chalutziut and Hebrew.

A fascinating issue was that of scouting. Some objected to scouting on the grounds that it was capitalistic and militaristic. The majority favored it for its character-building values. Actually, no one knew exactly how it operated; and thus we argued about vague notions, rather than about a program. It is significant that for a long time thereafter, when everyone accepted the need for scouting in principle, the implementation was slow, disjointed, and not entirely effective.

On one point there was unanimous agreement—the need for a thought-out, systematic, graduated educational program. In the past there existed a "cultural program" which resulted in helter-skelter activity. Suddenly a pamphlet would be issued, then a political bulletin, a lecture tour; but nothing was cohesively planned and consummated. We all agreed that an educational department was needed to work out a system for different age groups and different levels. Since much of Moshe Cohen's memo dealt with specific educational recommendations, there was no disagreement.

The net result of the pegisha was that the lines of future development were agreed upon, and Moshe Cohen was invited to return as national secretary. His memorandum, however, was not accepted as such but was recommended for specific analysis and decision to the future national executive committee.

During most of the ensuing year the national executive committee was busy translating the vague recommendations into specific directives. Most frequently we were only four members (since the adult representatives were too busy to attend). On many occasions the vote was Cohen for, Katzman against, and ltzkowitz abstaining. I was suddenly thrown into the position of the balance of power. Try as I might to hedge, temporize, and avoid an outright vote, there was no escape. A serious consideration in my voting was arithmetic. After a certain number of votes in one direction I had to vote the other way lest one of the two feel that he was superfluous. Finally we were ready for the decisive 193 5 convention. We had agreed on the need for establishing an educational section of the movement, Habonim, and the only aspect on which we were not united was that of autonomy. Would Habonim be an autonomous organization, or would it be a department of the Young Poale Zion Alliance?

Early in 1935 Moshe invited Nachum Guttman to come from Minneapolis to the national office to head the educational department. We all lived together in Moshe's apartment, and poor Yetta had to feed us all. We thus constituted a real kitchen cabinet. Many momentous decisions were made over spaghetti and coffee.
Nachum was all for autonomy. He had much less patience over fine wrangling. Often, before we had settled a question of the content of a bulletin, Nachum already had the mimeograph rolling and placed before us an accomplished fact. We would plead with him that this was unauthorized and undemocratic behavior, but Nachum didn't know what we were talking about. His material began to flow, and it was good.

Nachum met with David and Minna Yaroslavsky who were, at one time, members of Hashomer Hatzair but were also Poale Zionists. They were in one process of establishing a youth movement, Netzach, in the Hebrew schools where they were employed. Upon learning about the contemplated Habonim they offered to merge their movement with Habonim. (It consisted of two children's groups in Brooklyn and one in the Bronx.) Their condition was autonomy for Habonim, clear chalutz orientation, and Minna's participation in the national educational department.

During the same period there was some preparation to organize Hechalutz Hatzair. People who wanted a pure chalutz youth movement despaired of the existing organizations, but said that if Habonim would accept a chalutz program, a rival organization would not be founded.

The national executive committee set up an educational department, headed by Nachum Guttman and including Minna and David. The department was charged with working out the details of the Habonim plan to present to the convention. A Palestinian teacher, Raphael Margolin, whose wife had been a cook at the Accord Camp Kvutza was consulted on Hebrew terminology. Scout handbooks were culled

for appropriate techniques. Weeks were spent on working out the pledge, commandments, symbols, slogans, and badges. By fortunate coincidence pamphlets of Habonim from England and South Africa arrived in the office, and there was a vision of a world-wide youth organization in all English-speaking countries.
At the convention of the Young Poale Zion Alliance in Buffalo in October, 1915, there was the unanimous recommendation to establish Habonim; but there were two views on autonomy. Nachum and Moshe pleaded for complete autonomy. Katzman and Itzkowitz argued against the danger of setting up a Frankenstein and proposed an educational department of Young Poale Zion Alliance, to be known as Habonim. My own attitude was that there were advantages in autonomy, but I knew that the movement was not ready for it. Also, I was not convinced that we could entrust the new educational department with unchecked authority. In the vote of the national executive committee before the convention, I voted against autonomy with Katzman and Shorty Cohen. For autonomy voted Moshe Cohen, Nachum Guttman, Ben Cherner, David Wertheim, and Beba Halpern (representing the Pioneer Women).

The convention debated the matter furiously and heatedly. Autonomy was not accepted. The final decision was, nevertheless, a compromise; namely, Habonim was to be autonomous in educational matters, but subject to national executive committee decisions on all issues of politics, interorganizational representation, and other major policy questions. A representative of the national executive committee was to sit on the Habonim merkaz. All this was subject to the ratification of the Central Committee of the Poale Zion.

In the Central Committee we had the full backing of Hayim Greenberg, David Wertheim, Isaac Hamlin, and many others. The Central Committee approved, and we had clear sailing.

Thus Habonim was launched and our problems began. We had to justify expectations and promises.

SAADIA GELB, Kfar Blum. 1959