Skip to main content

“Why is this happening to us?” (1919): Social Unrest and Mennonite Wealth

Stable political arrangements are rarely permanent and can unravel rapidly—and they did for tens of thousands of Mennonites a century ago in the Russian Empire. Not a few asked: “Why is this happening to us?”

Russia was a multicultural colonial empire with sense of a manifest destiny, a long history of serfdom and displacement of non-settler populations, and a yawning disparity of wealth.

A few hundred Mennonite owners of sprawling estates with extensive landholdings suffered most severely in the first period of lawlessness, chaos and revolution in Ukraine.

During a period of civil war in 1919 when the villages in the Mennonite Molotschna colony were largely under White Army protection, Kornelius Bergmann, a teacher and Mennonite Brethren minister, addressed the question everyone was asking, “Why is this happening to us?”

Bergmann wrote using the pseudonym "C. Orosander"—in order to speak freely (note 1).

He began by admonishing his fellow clergy for general failure of office. “They are the embodied conscience of the people,” but over decades, inner and intra-church conflict, impatience, malice, clerical domination and posturing before state officials defined the sad history of Mennonite church presence in Russia.

Moreover, Bergmann opined that most congregational members were too lazy to think, too cheap and indifferent to questions of church, mission and theological education—which all served to create the conditions for decline and unfaithfulness.

But Bergmann saved his most stinging barbs for the formerly wealthy—the estate owners.

Without question they had “suffered the most—economically, physically and certainly also morally … a large number were murdered, while the rest have moved into our [colony] villages and towns, some in comparatively humble accommodations,” Bergmann recognized.

Notably despite the “general misfortune of this class, there appears to be very little sympathy [from other Mennonites] or pity for these unfortunate ones” in the colony.

Rather the author observed there was a certain “Schadenfreude,” “indifference,” and even “hostility” towards these fellow Mennonites who now seek refuge in the colony. He granted that “envy” and “resentment” are two of the greatest vices among less-wealthy Mennonites, but nevertheless, the estate owners—or “steppe kings”—are solely responsible for this kind of reception.

First—as a teacher—he addressed the abysmal attitude towards education that the formerly wealthy have displayed, not only as patrons for those deserving scholarships, but also towards their own children of both sexes. "What percentage from their own offspring have completed high school, let alone university—especially the females," he asks rhetorically (knowing the percentages are small)?

Bergmann contrasted them with the wealthier classes in Germany who had taken on educational equality for girls in higher schools and university as a priority. But for wealthy Mennonites this has been “unnecessary.” “Learning takes effort, and until now they could go anywhere and do what they desired with empty heads, as long as their pockets were full.” Is it unfair to say they “lack the thirst for knowledge,” he asked?

Lives marked by “alcohol consumption and especially inter-marriage” amongst other vices had made it difficult for the children of these “plutocrats” to advance academically. In addition, they brought a “trained, deeply rooted aversion to any strenuous activity,” which had rendered a significant portion of this class of Mennonites “mentally inferior,” he argued.

The older teens play cards and go on their hunting expeditions, and maidens “eat, drink, dance and flirt with their cousins without any higher ideals of life, until they finally hook up with one of them and then as a couple they continue to live lives that are equally worthless for God and for humanity.” [NB: marriage with close relatives was practiced in order to concentrate wealth].

Of course, he noted, “there are numerous and notable exceptions,” but as a rule this class has “almost never made the interests of the whole [Mennonite peoplehood] their own.” So it is no wonder that now “so few tears flow in our villages” for the empty-handed estate owners.

Again, there were exceptions, but overall the support of Mennonite charitable institutions by Mennonite estate owners was “weak” at best. Bergmann traced the problem back to how these children were raised. “Without having learned the basics of filial-piety” a “caste spirit” developed “that was strictly contrary to our brotherly democratic principle of equality, which simply made them incapable of adapting to other people.” They “did not even want to pay their share of the [Alternative Service] barracks tax while, on the other hand, they generally spared no money to somehow free their sons from the barracks!”

The primary concern of estate owners has always been around land speculation, Bergmann lamented. Their appetite for land has been “insatiable ... the more he has, the more he wants.” “The thought that one’s greed for more land could possibly arouse the envy of the poor seems to have occurred only to a very few. If only they had thought not only of themselves, and had not just stood up for their own interests alone with so much energy! The servants on the estates—and especially the Russian [Ukrainian] seasonal workers—were nothing but poorly paid and very often poorly fed workhorses.”

The author as teacher and minister witnessed this even among the “most pious” estate families. “When times were good they did not make the things of God and of their people their own. And now when times are evil, it is not surprising that neither God nor their people make the cause of the former estate owners their own. As you sow, so shall you reap.”

These are harsh judgments and harsh and too broad. But the class distinctions identified by Bergmann were real, as Henry Goertz painfully recalled 57 years later in a fascinating, wide-ranging interview (audio; note 2).

Goertz’s Molotschna family had been poor, he notes. “Everyone wanted to know whose son you were,” and you were treated accordingly he said. Not only the wealthy Mennonite farmer, but also the Russian [Ukrainian] neighbour knew his economic background; the latter even approached him to join Makhno [Ukrainian anarchist leader]! While Goertz did not join Makhno (he did not hate the rich, because of the way he was brought up, he said), but notes that some Mennonites did.

Goertz volunteered for the Selbstschutz armed Mennonite self-defence, yet decades later still remembered how the same wealthy land owner who treated him poorly not only expected Selbstschutz assistance, but also paid to keep his own sons from Selbstschutz service.

Some two years later (1922), the former estate owners were “scattered in various Molotschna villages, but not all were well-received," as American Mennonite Relief director C. E. Krehbiel observed (note 3; beginnings of MCC). By 1924 in one of the two Molotschna districts (Gnadenfeld), for example, twenty-seven villages were housing 1,800 Mennonite refugees in sheds, barns, cellars, and extra spaces in homes, while another 362 people were completely homeless and living in earthen huts. The norm was two to three, but often five families per house, and most of the refugees were without bedding, soap, or change of clothes (note 4).

The former estate owners were amongst the first chosen for immigration to Canada because of their precarious lot. Immigration leader B.B. Janz could persuade Soviet Authorities that a limited group emigration of 3,000 would be advantageous, especially the formerly wealthy farmers (kulaks) and “starving people whose absence might substantially benefit the colonies and enable economic reconstruction to begin” (note 5).

Many of prejudices and marriage expectations would continue in Canada for a generation.

            ---Arnold Neufeldt-Fast

---Notes---

Photos are randomly chosen from the page https://chortitza.org/FB/bguts.html, "Bilder und Fotos mennonitische Gutbesitzer und Guts (Chutors) in Russland."

Note 1: See Kornelius P. Bergmann (pseud. C. Orosander). “Warum geschieht uns solches?,” Part I, Friedensstimme 17 no. 42 (December 14, 1919), 1–2, https://chortitza.org/pdf/pletk99.pdf; Part II, 17, no. 43 (December 21, 1919), 1–2, https://chortitza.org/pdf/pletk100.pdf. Similarly, cf. previous post for November 1919 editorial by Abraham Kröker (forthcoming).

Note 2: Henry Paetkau, interviewer, “Tape #4 Interview with Henry Goertz,” July 1976, sound recording. Russian-Mennonite immigrants of the 1920’s (Niagara Peninsula), edited by E. Baar, Brock University, St. Catharines, ON, http://hdl.handle.net/10464/13713.

Note 3: Example of Schönfeld refugees, in C. E. Krehbiel Journal, May 30, 1922; Mennonite Library and Archives, Bethel College, Newton, KS, https://mla.bethelks.edu/archives/ms_11/.

Note 4: N. Rempel and A. Brauer, “Report Regarding the Situation of the Refugees in the Gnadenfeld District” (Kharkov, July 22, 1924),” in The Mennonites in Russia from 1917 to 1930. Selected Documents, ed. John B. Toews (Winnipeg, MB: Christian, 1975), 55f.; John B. Toews, Lost Fatherland (Scottdale, PA: Herald, 1977), 170, https://archive.org/details/lostfatherlandst0000toew.

In the years before the war Mennonite farms typically employed three or four domestic servants (Dienstbote) and “almost exclusively Russian,” according to Muntau farmer and Halbstadt elder Heinrich P. Unruh (Heinrich P. Unruh to Helena Unruh Richert Balzer, May 2, 1914, 2, letter, from Mennonite Library and Archives-Bethel College, https://mla.bethelks.edu/archives/mf_chr_34/15.jpg). H. P. Unruh employed “from October 1 to May 9, two males (three in spring) and one female, and together they receive a salary of 500 to 550 rubles.”

Note 5: Toews, Lost Fatherland, 132f.; 140. Cf. “Minutes of the Union Board Meeting, May 7–8, 1924” also (Resolution of the Verband on emigration, Feb. 26–28, 1925) in Union of Citizens of Dutch Lineage in Ukraine (1922–1927): Mennonite and Soviet Documents, translated by J. B. Toews, O. Shmakina, and W. Regehr (Fresno, CA: Center for Mennonite Brethren Studies, 2011), 215f.; 220f., https://archive.org/details/unionofcitizenso0000unse.

For further reading, see James Urry, "Through the Eye of a Needle: Wealth and the Mennonite Experience in Imperial Russia," Journal of Mennonite Studies 3 (1985), 7-35. https://jms.uwinnipeg.ca/index.php/jms/article/view/42/42.





Print Friendly and PDF

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Executioner of Dnepropetrovsk, 1937-38

Naum Turbovsky likely killed more Mennonites than anyone in the longer history of the Anabaptist-Mennonite movement. This is an emotionally difficult post to write because one of those men was my grandfather, Franz Bräul, born 1896. In 2019, I received the translation of his 30-page arrest, trial and execution file. To this point my mother never knew her father's fate. Naum Turbovsky's signature is on Bräul's execution order. Bräul was shot on December 11, 1937. Together with my grandfather's NKVD/ KGB file, I have the files of eight others arrested with him. Turbovsky's file is available online. Days before he signed the execution papers for those in this group, Turbovsky was given an award for the security of his prison and for his method of isolating and transferring prisoners to their interrogation—all of which “greatly contributed to the success of the investigations over the enemies of the people,” namely “military-fascist conspirators, spies and saboteurs.” T

Village Reports Commando Dr. Stumpp, 1942: List and Links

Each of the "Commando Dr. Stumpp" village reports written during German occupation of Ukraine 1942 contains a mountain of demographic data, names, dates, occupations, numbers of untimely deaths (revolution, famines, abductions), narratives of life in the 1930s, of repression and liberation, maps, and much more. The reports are critical for telling the story of Mennonites in the Soviet Union before 1942, albeit written with the dynamics of Nazi German rule at play. Reports for some 56 (predominantly) Mennonite villages from the historic Mennonite settlement areas of Chortitza, Sagradovka, Baratow, Schlachtin, Milorodovka, and Borosenko have survived. Unfortunately no village reports from the Molotschna area (known under occupation as “Halbstadt”) have been found. Dr. Karl Stumpp, a prolific chronicler of “Germans abroad,” became well-known to German Mennonites (Prof. Benjamin Unruh/ Dr. Walter Quiring) before the war as the director of the Research Center for Russian Germans

Prof. Benjamin Unruh as a Public Figure in the Nazi Era

Professor Benjamin H. Unruh (1881-1959) was a relief and immigration leader, educator, leading churchman, and official representative of Russian Mennonites outside of the Soviet Union throughout the National Socialism era in Germany. Unruh’s biography is connected to the very beginnings of Mennonite Central Committee in 1920-1922 when he served as a key spokesperson in Germany for the famine-stricken Mennonites in South Russia. Some years later he again played the central role in the rescue of thousands of Mennonites from Moscow in 1929 and, along with MCC, their resettlement in Paraguay, Brazil, and Canada. Because of Unruh’s influence and deep connections with key German government agencies in Berlin, his home office in Karlsruhe, Germany, became a relief hub for Mennonites internationally. Unruh facilitated large-scale debt forgiveness for Mennonites in Paraguay and Brazil, and negotiated preferential consideration for Mennonite relief work to the Soviet Union during the Great Famin

"Women Talking" -- and Canadian Mennonites

In March 2023 the film "Women Talking" won an Oscar for "Best adapted Screenplay." It was based on the novel of the same name by Mennonite Miriam Toews. The conservative Mennonites portrayed in the film are from the "Manitoba Colony" in Bolivia--with obvious Canadian connections. Now that many Canadians have seen the the film, Mennonites like me are being asked, "So how are you [in Markham-Stouffville, Waterloo or in St. Catharines] connected to that group?" Most would say, "We're not that type of Mennonite." And mostly that is a true answer, though unnuanced. Others will say, "Well, it is complex," but they can't quite unfold the complexity.  Below is my attempt to do just that. At the heart of the story are things that happened in Ukraine (at the time "New" or "South" Russia) over 200 years ago. It is not easy to rebuild the influence and contribution of "Russian Mennonite" women and th

The Shift from Dutch to German, 1700s

Already in 1671, Mennonite Flemish Elder Georg Hansen in Danzig published his German-language catechism ( Glaubens-Bericht für die Jugend ) as preparation for youth seeking baptism. Though educational competencies varied, Hansen’s Glaubens-Bericht assumed that youth preparing for baptism had a stronger ability to read complex German than Dutch ( note 1 ). Popular Mennonite preacher Jacob Denner (1659–1746), originally from the Hamburg-Altona Mennonite Church, lived in Danzig for four years in the early 1700s. A first volume of his Dutch sermons was published in 1706 in Danzig and Amsterdam, and then in 1730 and 1751 he published two German collections. Untrained preachers would often read Denner’s sermons: “Those who preached German—which all Prussian preachers around 1750 did, with the exception of the Danzig preachers—had no sermons books from their co-religionists other than this one by Jacob Denner” ( note 2 ). In Danzig and the Vistula Delta region there were some differences

Invitation to the Russian Consulate, Danzig, January 19, 1788

B elow is one of the most important original Mennonite artifacts I have seen. It concerns January 19. The two land scouts Jacob Höppner and Johann Bartsch had returned to Danzig from Russia on November 10, 1787 with the Russian Immigration Agent, Georg von Trappe. Soon thereafter, Trappe had copies of the royal decree and agreement (Gnadenbrief) printed for distribution in the Flemish and Frisian Mennonite congregations in Danzig and other locations, dated December 29, 1787 ( see pic ; note 1 ). After the flyer was handed out to congregants in Danzig after worship on January 13, 1788, city councilors made the most bitter accusations against church elders for allowing Trappe and the Russian Consulate to do this; something similar had happened before ( note 2 ). In the flyer Trappe boasted that land scouts Höppner and Bartsch met not only with Gregory Potemkin, Catherine the Great’s vice-regent and administrator of New Russia, but also with “the Most Gracious Russian Monarch” herse

Plague and Pestilence in Danzig, 1709

Russian and Prussian Mennonites trace at least 200 years of their story through Danzig and Royal Prussia, where episodes of plague and pestilence were not unfamiliar ( note 1 ). Mennonites arrived primarily from the Low Countries and in large numbers in the middle of the 16th century—approximately 750 families or 3,000 refugees and settlers between 1527 and 1578 to Danzig and Royal Prussia ( note 2 ). At this time Danzig was undergoing tremendous demographic, cultural and economic transformation, almost tripling in population in less than 100 years. With 80% of Poland’s foreign trade handled through this port city ( note 3 ), Danzig saw the arrival of new people from across Europe, many looking to find work in the crammed and bustling city ( note 4 ). Maria Bogucka’s research on Danzig in this era brings the streets of the maritime city to life: “Sanitation facilities were inadequate … The level of personal hygiene was low. Most people lived close together: five or six to a room, sle

The Tinkelstein Family of Chortitza-Rosenthal (Ukraine)

Chortitza was the first Mennonite settlement in "New Russia" (later Ukraine), est. 1789. The last Mennonites left in 1943 ( note 1 ). During the Stalin years in Ukraine (after 1928), marriage with Jewish neighbours—especially among better educated Mennonites in cities—had become somewhat more common. When the Germans arrived mid-August 1941, however, it meant certain death for the Jewish partner and usually for the children of those marriages. A family friend, Peter Harder, died in 2022 at age 96. Peter was born in Osterwick to a teacher and grew up in Chortitza. As a 16-year-old in 1942, Peter was compelled by occupying German forces to participate in the war effort. Ukrainians and Russians (prisoners of war?) were used by the Germans to rebuild the massive dam at Einlage near Zaporizhzhia, and Peter was engaged as a translator. In the next year he changed focus and started teachers college, which included significant Nazi indoctrination. In 2017 I interviewed Peter Ha

“First Arrival of German Troops in Halbstadt” (Volksfreund, April 20, 1918)

“ April 19, 1918 will always remain significant in the history of the Molotschna German Colony. That which until recently could hardly be imagined has occurred: the German military has arrived to free us from the despotism, rape and pillaging of barbarous people and to reestablish the order and security of life and property--something desperately necessary for our land. For this we give thanks above all to the One in whose hands the peoples and nations and also individuals rest. ...” ( Note 1 ) Mennonites greeted their “guests and liberators” with festivities that included baked goods (Zwieback), meats and even the German anthem “ Deutschland, Deutschland über alles "—all before the watchful eyes of their Russian /Ukrainian neighbours. The troops arrived by train; and to the shock of most present, three bound prisoners—all well-known bandits and terrorists—“were brought out of one of the railway cars without any prior notice, lined up and shot right in front of us” as an exampl

“The way is finally open”—Russian Mennonite Immigration, 1922-23

In a highly secretive meeting in Ohrloff, Molotschna on February 7, 1922, leaders took a decision to work to remove the entire Mennonite population of some 100,000 people out of the USSR—if at all possible ( note 1 ). B.B. Janz (Ohrloff) and Bishop David Toews (Rosthern, SK) are remembered as the immigration leaders who made it possible to bring some 20,000 Mennonites from the Soviet Union to Canada in the 1920s ( note 2 ). But behind those final numbers were multiple problems. In August 1922, an appeal was made by leaders to churches in Canada and the USA: “The way is finally open, for at least 3,000 persons who have received permission to leave Russia … Two ships of the Canadian Pacific Railway are ready to sail from England to Odessa as soon as the cholera quarantine is lifted. These Russian [Mennonite] refugees are practically without clothing … .” ( Note 3 ) Notably at this point B. B. Janz was also writing Toews, saying that he was utterly exhausted and was preparing to