History of the Russian Mennonites

It is rare that Mennonites make the news for their protests to pressure government or industry. Here is one example. The agricultural machinery factories in in the Greater Zaporozhzhia-Alexandrovsk economic zone—including the villages of Chortitza, Einlage, Osterwick, and Schönwiese—were places of significant labour unrest in the early 1900s ( note 1 ). In February and March 1905 factory workers mobilized at the Mennonite factories of Schulz, and of Lepp and Wallmann in Alexandrovsk, where the following demands were made: an 8-hour workday a weekly or bi-weekly pay schedule courteous treatment of employees immunity from punishment for elected labour representatives minimum wages no child labour appropriate equipment for moving heavy weights free family medical care free schooling for children workmen’s compensation regulation of overtime factory hygiene including showers and proper air ventilation lunch room facilities conflict resolution mechanisms the abolition of fines accidenta

Below are stories of two pogroms and of the responses in two Mennonite communities in Ukraine/Russia. The first location is Einlage (Chortitza) in 1905, with two episodes. The rage of peasants and the working class exploded with strikes, bloody revolts, chaos and plundering across the land, especially on the estates early in 1905. The Greater Zaporozhzhia-Alexandrovsk economic zone, with larger Mennonite manufacturers of agricultural machinery in Einlage as well, was a centre for some of that labour unrest ( note 1 ). In the shadows of the larger March 1905 Russian Revolution, there were so-called provocateurs named the "Black Hundred" ( note 2 ) who organized pogroms across Russia, but especially in ethnic Ukrainian and Polish areas. “Jewish stores, shops, and homes were broken into, robbed, and plundered; Jewish women and girls were raped and brutally murdered. Many Jews lost not only their belongings in Russia, but also their lives. And all with impunity. The police

Cardinal Richelieu, the sinister clergyman portrayed in Disney’s “Three Musketeers” film, was the great-grand-uncle of Armand-Emmanuel du Plessis, the Duke of Richelieu. The Duke knew the Mennonites of New Russia very well and was a key figure in their early health and success. In exile from France, Richelieu volunteered in Catherine the Great’s Imperial army and was decorated for his 1789 leadership in fighting the Turkish Ottoman Empire. In 1803, Alexander I appointed Richelieu as Governor of newly founded city of Odessa, and then as Governor General of all New Russia in 1804. He would later return to France where he served twice as Prime Minister ( note 1 ). Richelieu was viewed as the “colonizer of genius” ( note 2 ), and his most trusted colonization official was Samuel Contenius, who was most directly involved in the successful settlement and early economic development of Mennonites in Russia. Contenius (b. 1748) was the son of a German pastor; he came to Russia at age 25 whe

The most important and influential Prussian Mennonite leader in a century, Danzig Elder Georg Hansen, taught in the late 1600s that footwashing is “necessary for salvation (Seeligkeit)”—symbolic of the community’s deep commitment to humility and mutual service as a strategy for establishing the Lord’s kingdom. In this regard, he echoed Danzig’s first Anabaptist elder, Dirk Philips, a century earlier ( note 1 ). He shaped a tradition. Hansen “disciplined” an accomplished but haughty (in Hansen’s perspective) portrait painter in the congregation in 1697, for example, for painting “graven images,” and barred him from communion, footwashing, and membership meetings ( note 2 ). A century later, a new confession of faith was published by Elbing Mennonite Elder Gerhard Wiebe in 1792, which was taken to Russia and reprinted for another century and more ( note 3 ). While the government is a divine ordinance to obey, according to this tradition, it is ultimately through a servant people that G

Vaccination lists for Chortitza Mennonite children in 1809 and 1814 were published prior to the COVID-19 pandemic with little curiosity ( note 1 ). However during the 2020-22 pandemic and in a context in which some refused to vaccinate for religious belief, the historic data took on new significance. Ancestors of some of the more conservative Russian Mennonite groups—like the Reinländer or the Bergthalers or the adult children of land delegate Jacob Höppner—were in fact vaccinating their infants and toddlers against small pox over two hundred years ago ( note 2 ). Also before the current pandemic Ukrainian historian Dmytro Myeshkov brought to light other archival materials on Mennonites and vaccination. The material below is my summary and translation of the relevant pages of Myeshkov’s massive 2008 volume on Black Sea German and their Worlds, 1781 to 1871 (German only; note 3 ). Myeshkov confirms that Chortitza was already immunizing its children in 1804 when their District Offic

Asiatic Cholera broke out across Russia in 1829 and ‘30, and further into Europe in 1831. It began with an infected battalion in Orenburg ( note 1 ), and by early Fall 1830 the disease had reached Moscow and the capital. Russia imposed drastic quarantine measures. Much like today, infected regions were cut off and domestic trade was restricted. The disease reached the Molotschna River district in Fall 1830, and by mid-December hundreds of Nogai deaths were recorded in the villages adjacent to the Mennonite colony, leading state authorities to impose a strict quarantine. When the Mennonite Johann Cornies—a state-appointed agricultural supervisor and civic leader—first became aware of the nearby cholera-related deaths, he recommended to the Mennonite District Office on December 6, 1830 to stop traffic and prevent random contacts with Nogai. For Cornies it was important that the Mennonite community do all it can keep from carrying the disease into the community, though “only God knows

In Russia, there were two groups of Mennonite settlers—the Flemish and the Frisians. Land scout Jacob Höppner was Flemish, and his partner Johann Bartsch was Frisian—that flipped later. If you looked closely, the Frisian men in the 1820s wore long beards and their clothing had buttons; the Flemish were more conservative and only used hooks ( note 1 ). In church the differences were more pronounced. When baptizing, the Frisians sprinkled, whereas the Flemish poured. The latter required two character witnesses before baptism ( note 2 ). Before the first settlers left for Russia in 1788, the Frisian and Flemish Mennonite elders still had not settled the issue of intermarriage—in some cases requiring rebaptism. The Flemish received communion from the elders sitting; the Frisians standing, followed with footwashing ( note 3 ). The Frisians received the communion bread from the elder on a clean handkerchief and ate with caution and respect; the Flemish did not have that practice (not