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

Life in Exin, 1944: German-Occupied Poland

After the 1943-44 portion of the Great Trek ended with settlement of some 35,000 Mennonites in German-annexed Poland, the Gnadenfeld area trek members were scattered in resettler camps ( Umsiedler-Lager ) around Exin ( Kcynia ) and the Altburgund District administrative centre of Dietfurt ( Żnin ), including the hamlets of Kiefernrode ( Słupowiec ), Schwarzerde ( Malice ), Schmiedebach, etc. ( note 1) . Until World War I, the area was part of the German-Prussian Province of Posen, about 170 kilometres south-west of Danzig ( Gdańsk ) and about 400 kilometres east of Berlin. Almost all ethnic German resettlers from Ukraine arrived through Litzmannstadt (Łódź), one of two entrance points from the east into new German province of “Warthegau” ( note 2) . Here thousands were cleansed, deloused and processed daily. Some Gnadenfeld group members were brought to Janowitz (Janowiec) , near Hermannsbad in the District of Hohensalza for quarantine. Here fresh straw was laid out on the floor for ...

More Royal News! Mennonites give gifts of “Oxen, Butter, Ducks, Hens & Cheese” to new King (1772)

What do Mennonites offer a new king? The ritual ceremonies of homage to a new European king—as we see on TV these days--are ancient. Exactly 250 years yesterday, Frederick the Great became king over Mennonites in the Vistula River Delta where most of our ancestors lived. Here is how that played out. On May 31, 1772, Heinrich Donner was elected elder of the Orlofferfelde Mennonite Church, 25 km north of Marienburg Castle in Polish-Prussia; thankfully he kept a diary ( note 1 ). Only a few months later the weak Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth collapsed and was partitioned by powerful, land-hungry neighbours: Austria, Prussia and Catherine the Great’s empire. In the preceding decades Mennonites had lived with significant autonomy, felt secure under the Polish crown and could appeal to the king for protection . Now some 2,638 Mennonite families were under Prussian rule. Frederick II took possession of his new lands on September 13, and then invited four persons of nobility plus clergy from ...

Mennonites in Danzig's Suburbs: Maps and Illustrations

Mennonites first settled in the Danzig suburb of Schottland (lit: "Scotland"; “Stare-Szkoty”; also “Alt-Schottland”) in the mid-1500s. “Danzig” is the oldest and most important Mennonite congregation in Prussia. Menno Simons visited Schottland and Dirk Phillips was its first elder and lived here for a time. Two centuries later the number of families from the suburbs of Danzig that immigrated to Russia was not large: Stolzenberg 5, Schidlitz 3, Alt-Schottland 2, Ohra 1, Langfuhr 1, Emaus 1, Nobel 1, and Krampetz 2 ( map 1 ). However most Russian Mennonites had at least some connection to the Danzig church—whether Frisian or Flemish—if not in the 1700s, then in 1600s. Map 2  is from 1615; a larger number of Mennonites had been in Schottland at this point for more than four decades. Its buildings are not rural but look very Dutch urban/suburban in style. These were weavers, merchants and craftsmen, and since the 17th century they lived side-by-side with a larger number of Jews a...

Fraktur (or Gothic) font and Kurrent- (or Sütterlin) handwriting: Nazi ban, 1941

In the middle of the war on January 1, 1942, the Winnipeg-based Mennonitische Rundschau published a new issue without the familiar Fraktur script masthead ( note 1 ). One might speculate on the reasons, but a year earlier Hitler banned the use of the font in the Reich . The Rundschau did not exactly follow all orders from Berlin—the rest of the paper was in Fraktur (sometimes referred to as "Gothic"); when the war ended in 1945, the Rundschau reintroduced the Fraktur font for its masthead. It wasn’t until the 1960s that an issue might have a page or title here or there with the “normal” or Latin font, even though post-war Germany was no longer using Fraktur . By 1973 only the Rundschau masthead is left in Fraktur , and that is only removed in December 1992. Attached is a copy of Nazi Party Secretary Martin Bormann's official letter dated January 3, 1941, which prohibited the use of Fraktur fonts "by order of the Führer. " Why? It was a Jewish invention, apparent...

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...

Canadian Mennonites and Paraguay: 1922

The first attached photo vividly depicts a meeting of conservative Mennonite elders in Saskatchewan and Manitoba in 1922 who intended to lead their communities to Paraguay. This was happening as hundreds of “Old Colony” Mennonites were leaving for Mexico. The “Old Colonists” from Manitoba’s West Reserve were in fact the first conservative Canadian Mennonites to scout out Paraguay for settlement land. In 1920 they were assisted in their search by New York financier and lawyer, General Samuel McRoberts, who had extensive holdings as well as political and business connections in Paraguay. The delegation travelled 90 km into the Chaco interior, west of the Paraguay River. They were however unimpressed with the land and ultimately recommended Mexico to their community ( note 1 ). Other conservative groups in Manitoba and Saskatchewan were however interested in sending their own scouts to assess the Chaco and the political climate in Paraguay vis-à-vis the list of privileges they were seek...

Ideas for Educational Reform, 1832

After four decades in Russia, the president of the Guardianship Committee for Foreign Colonists, Andrei Fadeev, considered only eight of 116 Mennonite teachers in the two larger regions of Katerynoslav and Tauria—which included the Molotschna—fit to teach ( note 1 ). Jakob Bräul’s Rudnerweide schoolhouse was given the same status as Heinrich Heese’s Ohrloff Agricultural Society School with regard to policies and “especially for the teaching of Russian” ( note 2 ). Fadeev triggered great angst when by “imperial decree” he distributed a book to church elders written by German Mennonite Abraham Hunzinger on the modernization of Mennonite schools and church. It was a friendly gesture and poke. The Molotschna was already a tinderbox, and this spark introduced by a state official to strengthen the community ignited a fire in the colony. Fadeev wrote to Johann Cornies on January 12, 1832: “Most valued Cornies ... I advise you to acquire and read a booklet sent to your church leaders f...

“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 ...

From USSR to Cherrywood Station: Mennonites winter in Markham-Stouffville, 1924

On September 26, 1924, 126 Russian Mennonite passengers disembarked the S. S. Melita at Quebec City ( note 1 ). They were among some 20,000 Mennonites who could immigrate to Canada from the Soviet Union in the 1920s. A number of these families received train cards to Cherrywood (Pickering) and Locust Hill (Markham) stations, where they were received by Markham area Mennonites. The Canadian Mennonite Board of Colonization (CMBC) registration forms record each family's travel dates as well as their "first place of arrival" in Canada. The attached artifacts—a few pages from the financial records booklet kept by Markham-Stouffville treasurer J. L. Grove, plus some correspondence—profile concretely the level of support of this community north-east of Toronto for co-religionists fleeing the Soviet Union. Mennonites in Ontario had been well informed of the relief needs in Russia since 1921 and plans for mass immigration ( note 2 ). In April 1924 the local Stouffville Tribune ...

Sesquicentennial: Proclamation of Universal Military Service Manifesto, January 1, 1874

One-hundred-and-fifty years ago Tsar Alexander II proclaimed a new universal military service requirement into law, which—despite the promises of his predecesors—included Russia’s Mennonites. This act fundamentally changed the course of the Russian Mennonite story, and resulted in the emigration of some 17,000 Mennonites. The Russian government’s intentions in this regard were first reported in newspapers in November 1870 ( note 1 ) and later confirmed by Senator Evgenii von Hahn, former President of the Guardianship Committee ( note 2 ). Some Russian Mennonite leaders were soon corresponding with American counterparts on the possibility of mass migration ( note 3 ). Despite painful internal differences in the Mennonite community, between 1871 and Fall 1873 they put up a united front with five joint delegations to St. Petersburg and Yalta to petition for a Mennonite exemption. While the delegations were well received and some options could be discussed with ministers of the Crown, ...