History of the Russian Mennonites

With basic physical needs addressed, in 1805 Chortitza pioneers were ready to recover their religious roots and to pass on a faith identity. They requested a copy of Menno Simons’ writings from the Danzig mother-church especially for the young adults, “who know only what they hear,” and because “occasionally we are asked about the founder whose name our religion bears” ( note 1 ). The Anabaptist identity of this generation—despite the strong Mennonite publications in Prussia in the late eighteenth century—was uninformed and very thin. Settlers first arrived in Russia 1788-89 without ministers or elders. Settlers had to be content with sharing Bible reflections in Low German dialect or a “service that consisted of singing one song and a sermon that was read from a book of sermons” written by the recently deceased East Prussian Mennonite elder Isaac Kroeker ( note 2 ). In the first months of settlement, Chortitza Mennonites wrote church leaders in Prussia:  “We cordially plead with

When the first Mennonites arrived at Chortitza in 1789, they landed in the immediate vicinity of Fortress Alexandrovsk , today Zaporizhzhia. March 23, 1788 : The first organized Mennonite group to leave Danzig for Russia was led by land scout Jakob Höppner; they were advised to leave on smaller ships docked near the village of Bohnsack to avoid attention, and not from Danzig itself ( note 1 ). After a short early-morning farewell near the Lutheran parish church in Bohnsack on Easter morning, Höppner family plus seven others totaling fifty individuals embarked on their journey to Russia ( note 2 ). Because official permission for visas was granted only with pressure from St. Petersburg, the first groups of families—much smaller than originally expected, “mostly people without property such as milkmen, carpenters and labourers”—prepared to leave quietly in March 1788. But membership in this group too was not automatic with a visa; for example, “Arendt Fast and Jakob Willms … were lef

Recently an acquaintance shared a photo from a Saskatchewan picnic, likely from the late 1930s. Twenty-seven individuals, children, parents and grandparents, are dressed in festive but comfortable clothing. The group includes her grandparents—both children of Mennonites who came to the US from Russia in the 1870s—and other relatives and friends. In the middle of the photograph, spread out like a picnic blanket, is a large swastika flag with the iron cross—the symbol of the German veterans’ association ( Deutscher Reichskriegerbund ; note 1 ); a young boy holds one corner of the flag. There are good reasons to think that this photo was taken at “German Day” ( Deutscher Tag ) celebrations, which were held annually in the 1930s in each prairie province. Saskatchewan German Day rallies rotated annually between Regina and Saskatoon, between seeding and harvest time. Its first gathering was in 1930 which drew some 4,000 attendees ( note 2 ). In 1932, six months before Hitler’s seizure of pow

On October 12 and 13, 1941, as many as 10,000 Mennonites at two Molotschna-area train stations--awaiting deportation to Kazakhstan--were liberated by German military and were free to return to their homes ( note 1 ). Ten days earlier most had been ordered to pack and be ready within two hours to be taken by wagon to the Stulnewo train station (between Hamberg, Klippenfeld and Waldheim) or the station at Nelgovka, east of Franzthal. Advance German reconnaissance spies were active in the Molotschna villages, some in NKVD (Soviet secret police) uniform seeking hidden Soviet military assets. In the villages men “armed with manure forks and pitchforks,” as well as Russian activists and party members in Gnadenfeld with semi-automatic weapons, for example, were sent out in the early mornings to scout for armed German paratroopers ( note 2 ). German spy planes also air-dropped leaflets written in both German and Russian: “Jews and Communists, flee! Not one of you will survive. We will find y

Both Jews and Mennonites in Russia were dependent on separation, distinct external appearance, unique dialect, inner group cohesion, international familial networks, self-governing institutions, a sojourner mentality, sense of divine mission, and a view of the other as unclean or dangerous. Each had its distinct legal privileges, restrictions, and duties under the Tsar, and each looked out for their own. For both, moderation, spiritual values, family, learning and success were important, and their related dialects made communication possible. But the traditional occupation of eastern European Jews was as “middlemen” between the “overwhelmingly agricultural Christian population and various urban markets,” as peddlers, shopkeepers and suppliers of goods ( note 1 ). Jews were forbidden to stay for longer periods in German colonies or to erect houses or shops there. “If they try to stay, they are to be reported immediately. If they are not, the German mayor will be held responsible” ( no

Johann Cornies was a young lad when he immigrated to Russia with his parents. They first wintered in Chortitza where, under the supervision of his aging father, the teen managed Jacob Höppner’s brandy distillery. There he observed the moral impact of poverty on good people (Chortitza pioneers came with little capital; note 1 ). In the years after his death in 1848, a landless crisis dominated the Mennonite Molotschna Colony--the district the had so carefully and energetically nurtured to achieve excellent economic and social outcomes. The crisis was marked by corruption, inequities, and economic disparities. As David G. Rempel summarizes, it shook most of the Mennonite villages “to their very foundation” ( note 2 ). In 1856 the Molotschna Society for Advancement of Schools tasked teachers to submit reflections on the moral condition of colony inhabitants and to offer their advice. Thirty-seven of these essays are buried in the massive 140,000-page archive by Peter J. Braun, lost