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Tim Saunders' talk was a wideranging examination of the history of Hebrew from the time of the Babylonian exile. He argued that there was always over nearly three thousand years a thriving and varied Hebrew literature. The following article which has come our way deals in detail with one important aspect of this history - the emergence of Hebrew in Palestine as a language of everyday use.

 

HEBREW IN PALESTINE BEFORE AND AFTER 1882

by UZZI ORNAN,

UNIVERSITY OF JERUSALEM

Journal of Semitic Studies, Vol 29, No 1, 1984

'What transformed the resolution to turn Hebrew into a medium for the study, speech and thought of the younger generation into a tangible decision? Apparently in the history of linguistics no such distinct precedent exists of a language in only partial use by people who used it, which became the exclusive language or the principal one of the offspring of a section of those people. There are many who have dismissed this exceptional occurrence as "a miracle" and hence considered themselves as being exempt from asking what made such a thing possible. On the other hand there were linguists who were of the opinion that such a happening "was impossible" and consequently made every effort to deny outright the process of revival, claiming that Hebrew has been spoken uninterruptedly in Palestine since ancient times. Yet the revival really did take place, and we are aware of its course in considerable detail. It is obvious that a scholar cannot evade attempting to explain such a unique occurrence, and in no way can he discharge himself with the excuse that it is "a miracle".'

 

"Revival" ­ The Transforming of the Hebrew Language into a Principal Language
Hebrew via Hebrew
Traditional Uses of Hebrew
Information by Outsiders
Memoirs from within
Decisive Evidence in a Document
Further Evidence
Hebrew Usage Prior to Revival
Revival and Language Development
The Revival - in Palestine Only
Factors which Made the Revival Possible
The Opportunity
The Accessibility
The Will to Revive
Renaissance Includes Revival of Hebrew
Ben-Yehuda's Role
 
Notes
Bibliography

 

In this article* it is claimed that a process of revival took place in the use of the Hebrew language in Palestine at the end of the nineteenth century. This process brought about an essential change from the situation applying previously in the use of Hebrew.

The process is described here and the mood which brought about its realization is explained, as well as the circumstances which made it possible.

 

"Revival" ­ The Transforming of the Hebrew Language into a Principal Language.

At the end of the 1880s and during the 1890s something happened in Palestine: a number of children ­ and this number continued to increase from year to year ­ began to be educated in new schools, or in old schools which had undergone a change, and later on also in nursery schools which only then came to be founded. What was so special about these schools was that the tuition in them was conducted in Hebrew, and the purpose of the teachers being to eradicate the languages which the children had absorbed from their home environment and supplant them with Hebrew. Children from about the age of four years onwards used to spend long hours at school or nursery school during the course of the day and became accustomed to speaking Hebrew with their teachers and hence also among themselves. As they grew up, Hebrew came to be their principal language. This last phenomenon is not really surprising. It is generally accepted that school rather than the parental home enhances the spiritual world of the young pupil and thus also his language.

Since the teaching was conducted in Hebrew, it gained momentum over the languages which they spoke with their parents. [1] There is also reason to believe that the parents of these children were favourably disposed towards their children's speaking Hebrew and even co-operated with their teachers in this matter. Indeed, without the blessing of the parents, it would have been impossible to establish and maintain such schools. [2]

Moreover, the children were educated to know and believe that the speaking of Hebrew was of paramount importance and that it was incumbent upon them to speak Hebrew and only Hebrew at every available opportunity. In the course of time, the language of the children also became in many instances the language of their homes.

This phenomenon, widely manifest in typical immigrant lands, by which the child absorbs the language of the environment far more readily than his parents and introduces it into his home, also took place in Palestine. The enthusiastic teachers who founded the new schools thus determined not only the principal language of their pupils, but also influenced the language of communication in the home. [3] One point should be stressed:

Hebrew was not the "mother tongue" of that generation. Only for their children was it to be the mother tongue in actual fact.

The term "principal language" designates that Hebrew was for them the language of thought, speech, and writing, [4] and if they happened to know other languages, then those were used only to a partial extent.

A society such as this, consisting of one generation in one country for whom Hebrew was the principal language, had not existed since Hebrew-speaking people disappeared from the world in antiquity.

The term "revival of Hebrew" may be applied to the emergence of this society, for which Hebrew became an "all-encompassing language". [5]

 

Hebrew via Hebrew.

It is important to discern readily this identifying mark of the revival and not to confuse it with the question of the method of teaching Hebrew. A modern method of teaching foreign languages ­ the "direct approach" ­ was widely used in Europe at that time, and within the framework of Hebrew was known as "Hebrew via Hebrew". The introduction of this approach per se does not in any way testify to the revival of Hebrew. It could be adopted in the capacity merely of an effective didactic measure for imparting Hebrew as a subsidiary language, in much the same way as one can today, for example, learn "French via French" in Britain without any intention of supplanting with it the pupil's native English (or Welsh). As mentioned above, the process of revival was closely aligned to the transformation of Hebrew into the principal language as the declared policy of a school. It would not, therefore, be correct to claim that the teaching method "Hebrew via Hebrew", which Ben-Yehuda adopted in 1883, or perhaps others like Nissim Bachar or Joseph Ha-Levy (doubtful) adopted prior to that, was the "onset of the revival". [6] The teaching approach "Hebrew via Hebrew" existed before the onset of revival and cannot therefore be a "turning point" in the process of revival.

For had not Nissim Bachar already taken the actual step in 1874 of introducing "Hebrew via Hebrew" lessons into a Jewish school in Constantinople without any intention or hope of turning Hebrew into the principal language of the pupils? He did so simply because he was familiar with this method in the teaching of French and had found it to be effective; hence he surmised that it could also be applied successfully in the case of Hebrew. The teaching of "Hebrew via Hebrew" could, however, have nourished and did flourish in the wake of the onset of the revival process. [7]

 

Traditional Uses of Hebrew.

During the centuries preceding its revival, Hebrew had certainly been in frequent use in certain spheres. First and foremost, it had been the Jews' principal language for prayer. In previous generations the vast majority of Jews had uttered Hebrew several times a day.

Secondly, when Jews speaking different vernaculars met up with one another, it sometimes happened that Hebrew was the only language comprehensible to one and all, particularly so in the case of men.

Most of them were also able to read Hebrew texts with which they had not been previously familiar. There were even those among them who could write and actually did write Hebrew. However, Hebrew was not the sole language of these Jews, nor of any Jewish community in particular. Throughout the generations, most of those who used Hebrew as a literary medium ­ and among them were well-known writers and eminent Rabbis of outstanding stylistic ability (like Maimonides) ­ had as their principal vernacular a language other than Hebrew, a vernacular which they used for most of the concerns appertaining to their lives. In many cases they also wrote some of their works in these vernaculars or in other languages.

 

Information by Outsiders.

What about the Hebrew used by those Jews who were resident in Palestine? In 1972, Tudor Parfitt published a very detailed and instructive article on the dispersion of Hebrew in Palestine before the arrival of Ben-Yehuda in Jerusalem. [8] He collected a large amount of interesting evidence on an area which had barely been touched upon previously: diaries and letters of consuls and missionaries who served in Palestine, and likewise of travellers and tourists. From this evidence it may be deduced that if a foreigner was interested in communicating with the Jews in Palestine, it behoved him to learn Hebrew, since Hebrew was spoken fluently by the Jews. It is true that part of the evidence relates to written Hebrew, and there is no disagreeing with the fact that the Jews, not only those living in Palestine, wrote their documents for the most part in Hebrew. However, part of the evidence claims that "the Jews speak Hebrew" and not merely write it. Consequently the significance of such evidence should be investigated; so should statements like: "The Jews in Palestine also speak Hebrew", or "Most of the Jews in this country speak Hebrew (many of them better than any other language)" (p. 244, year 1839).

Such a statement may be construed in two ways. It may be understood as a claim that "the language which the Jews speak usually is Hebrew", or "the Jews are able to speak Hebrew and they do so when the need arises". The claim that Hebrew is a language which they "speak better than any other language" arises from the old misconception that a language which a person cannot write is not so thoroughly known to him as one which he can. These Jews wrote Hebrew and probably only Hebrew. Therefore, we ought not to rely to any great extent on this claim, but to concentrate on the question posed at the beginning of this paragraph.

Most of the evidence put forward by Parfitt is assembled specifically on the occasion of meetings between Jews from various parts of the world who had come to Palestine, rather than on discussions held by resident Jews and members of the same community among themselves. Furthermore, it cannot be assumed that a foreigner, even one who mixed with people as freely as did Consul James Finn, could testify to what they spoke among themselves when no one else was present.

Usually, members of a small community, even the inhabitants of a particular village, when speaking to an outsider or in his presence, do not use the language they speak among themselves, for they do not consider it appropriate that their vernacular be learned by one not born among them.

 

Memoirs from within.

What then did the Jews resident in Palestine speak? It is difficult to find direct information concerning this. Hearsay has it, for example, that the Jews from the Maghreb living in Palestine spoke Arabic, and that conversely among the Ashkenazi population only a few knew Arabic and it is evident that this language was not their vernacular. [9]

Memoirs are a very important source of casual information and such information even surpasses direct accounts of the linguistic situation in its reliability. It is worthwhile taking a look at extracts from such memoirs.

Ephraim Cohen-Reiss, who was born in Jerusalem in 1863, writes about his childhood as follows:

They spring up before my eyes, rise up and present themselves before me, the visitors who frequent our street: the Arab agents of the Besht family who excel in speaking Spanish and also Yiddish.

And also,

Salih from the village of Silwan who sold sand for scouring utensils not only knew how to chatter away in Spanish and Yiddish ... but also to recite in Hebrew a complicated doggerel poem for Purim which the children of the street had repeatedly chanted for him. [10]

It is reasonable to assume that the languages learnt by these Arabs from the Jewish residents of the street were those spoken by the Jews, that is to say they spoke Spanish and Yiddish. Hannah Lunz-Bolotin has a similar episode to relate. She wrote about her father, A.M. Lunz. She is referring to the 1870s when she tells about "the Arab who used to bring the charcoal. His name was Amin ... and he spoke fluent and vivacious Yiddish like a Jew from Lithuania". [11]

She further expatiates: "Good neighbourly relations prevailed between the Ashkenazi and Sephardi women. The former learned to speak Ladino". [12] Ephraim Cohen-Reiss explains, furthermore, how the education of Sephardi and Ashkenazi children was separate, and how that of the former was conducted in Ladino and of the latter in Yiddish:

In the vocational school ... which was founded by Albert Cohen ... thirty pupils studied there, the Ashkenazim in their own room in their spoken vernacular and the Sephardim in their room in their spoken vernacular. [13]

He also wrote as follows about the school Fraenkel had founded in 1855:

As far as the system of study and education is concerned, it did not vary appreciably from the rest of the kutab [lowest Arabic elementary school] ... except that it was called "shkola" ... A Rabbi from Smyrna taught there in a form of Spanish [Ladino] which was purer than that of the dialect spoken in Jerusalem. Yet ultimately the pupils understood less of the textual commentaries than they had from their previous teachers.

Mr Meyuhas, one of the former pupils of the Lemmel school, told me that for years he had thought, for example, that the interpretation of the word "mizbeah" [altar] was "street". The Rabbi from Smyrna had translated this word as "attara", the meaning of which was "altar" in the Spanish of Smyrna, whilst in the Jerusalem dialect it meant "street". [14]

 

Decisive Evidence in a Document.

There is some original evidence from an earlier period which is of interest, although it is not detailed. It is a letter from 1851, written by Yehoseph Schwarz, a famous traveller in Palestine, to his brother. According to him "the language spoken in Palestine is Arabic, and also Spanish". [15] However, more decisive evidence is revealed from another original source in which it is explicitly set out what the spoken languages were. What is related is not relayed to the advantage of those telling it. On the contrary, it is against their will. The Ashkenazim had carried on a longstanding dispute in order to acquire permission to establish their own abattoir in Jerusalem. For many years the authority to slaughter animals had been only in the hands of the Sephardim. According to Islamic law the Muslims were permitted to eat meat which had been slaughtered by a Jewish ritual slaughterer, since he adhered to the doctrine that there is only one God, but only on condition that the slaughterer in question was really a "descendant of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob". Thus both Jews and Muslims were able to share the meat slaughtered by a Jew. It so happened that the Ashkenazim held that the Sephardim used to cheat them in meat-vending, both with regard to its quality and price. Not only that, but the price also included a tax for the needs of the Sephardi community alone, so the Ashkenazim felt that they were forced to pay a tax from which they derived no benefit.

Consequently, the Ashkenazim sought ways of acquiring for themselves permission from the government to slaughter their own meat. During the course of several years they pursued this issue, their principal claim being that in no way were they different from the Sephardim.

They argued that in just the same way as the Muslims were permitted by their religious law to eat meat ritually slaughtered by the Sephardim, they might also be allowed to eat meat ritually slaughtered by the Ashkenazim, once permission was given. The Ashkenazim were thus interested in proving that they were not a separate sect but Jews exactly like the Sephardim. However, they were compelled to mention one conspicuous difference between the Sephardim and themselves. In 1875 a memorandum was written to the Pasha, the governor of Jerusalem. It opens with the declaration that:

All the Jews, whether Sephardim or Ashkenazim, we are all of us ... descendants of Israel son of Isaac son of Abraham, the one Torah [law of Moses] ... instructs us to believe in the oneness of the Creator.

It then continues immediately by way of elucidation:

The difference in our spoken languages occurred simply because our forefathers were carried into exile in Germany, while theirs were banished to Spain. Nevertheless, the language of our prayers and of our Torah is one; the Hebrew language. [16]

As previously mentioned, the main purpose of the memorandum was to explain that no essential difference existed between the two communities except for this conspicuous difference, which could easily be discerned even by an outsider like the Turkish Pasha or by his many Arab officials. It could not be concealed and therefore they were compelled to mention it and to furnish an explanation. No better evidence exists than that of a party concerned, all the more so when they were compelled to pass it on, even though it did not support the main purpose of the memorandum. Hence it is clear that the Ashkenazim and Sephardim in Jerusalem (and it follows that this also applied to the rest of Palestine) had different spoken vernaculars, neither of which was Hebrew. Indeed, Hebrew was only the common language of prayer.

Consequently, the correct interpretation of the evidence collected by Parfitt is not that the Jews "usually speak Hebrew", but that "the Jews are able to speak Hebrew and do so when the need arises".

 

Further Evidence.

It is worth adding one further instance, also from internal sources.

There was an ongoing dispute within Jerusalem, which continued to attract attention from time to time, as to whether it was permissible to initiate the study of foreign languages, and Arabic in particular was being referred to in this context, as part of the curriculum in religious Jewish schools. Various people had been excommunicated on the grounds of this issue during different periods.

It is therefore of interest to read how Yoel Moshe Salomon describes this circumstance in the 1860s:

Although the Rabbis have not given permission ... to establish a school for the study of this language [Arabic] in a group along with the study of our Holy Torah, for all that many of the inhabitants of Jerusalem independently arrange for their sons to take private lessons at home in the study of the language of the country [Arabic]. The fundamentals for the study of this language have already been set down in a book, and it will not be long before the children of the people of Zion are speaking Arabic eloquently, just as many of them speak Hebrew eloquently. [17]

Quite unintentionally, whilst continuing to allude to the study of Arabic, the author adds another interesting detail for us : "Many of [the children of the people of Zion] speak Hebrew eloquently". In this instance also, the word "speak" calls for elucidation: "they know how to speak Hebrew and they do so when they so wish", for instance when someone in their group does not know their spoken vernacular, then they speak to him in fluent Hebrew. This evidence must likewise be accepted without hesitation. [18]

 

Hebrew Usage Prior to Revival.

Prior to the revival period and, during this period but beyond the borders of Palestine, Hebrew was only in partial use. It was known mainly to men [19] and in particular to men who, having received a prolonged traditional education, afterwards took up duties within the framework of religious life. It should also be mentioned with regard to Hebrew writing, and for that matter to reading material, that these were largely concerned with Halacha (the legal part of Jewish traditional literature) and with philosophical thought. As for subjects outside of this sphere, only a few of them were written about in Hebrew during most periods, and even then only to a limited extent.

The Haskala (the cultural movement of enlightenment in Europe, from 1750 up to the end of the 19th Century), even in its later stages, could not be called "Revival". The great innovation of the Haskala period was that Hebrew became a medium for writing about secular subjects from various spheres, with special emphasis on the writing of belles lettres, and to a certain extent also in the field of science. It should be mentioned that secular poetry had already been composed prior to the Haskala period. Again, throughout the Haskala, Hebrew was a medium for writing, not for speaking. For the community of writers, not to mention their readers, it is obvious that Hebrew was not an "all-encompassing" language. [20] From the socio-linguistic point of view, with the exception of the innovations in subject matter, there was precious little difference between the Haskala period and those which went before it. For even during the Haskala, those using Hebrew did so only to a partial extent. All the writers had other spoken vernaculars, and in many cases they had other languages for writing also. A society which uses two languages or more, interchanging the languages as required, need not be regarded as being exceptional.

Such a situation is presumably reflected to us from as far back as the Mishnaic period. [21] During the Middle Ages also, such was the accepted linguistic situation of every society in Europe: a Christian, if he had the privilege of education, spoke not only the language of his place but was also conversant with Latin. Latin was the language of prayer for Christians in Europe and they uttered it for hundreds of years. Furthermore, all reading material was written in Latin. Likewise, many could read Latin texts with which they were not previously familiar, and there were those who could even write in Latin and did so.

In the Arab world today a similar socio-linguistic situation prevails: literary Arabic and colloquial languages (those which are termed "Arabic dialects") are used side by side for different needs. The situation of literary Arabic in our day resembles the status of Latin with the Christians during the Middle Ages and of Hebrew with Jews. [22]

 

Revival and Language Development.

It is worth noting another line of resemblance among the three societies mentioned here: the written languages of all of them underwent periods of growth and development. There is a well-known saying that Latin developed to such an extent during the Middle Ages that if Julius Caesar had been resurrected, he would not have been capable of comprehending new Latin texts or Church sermons. Hebrew also experienced periods of innovation in abundance ­ not only during and after the revival period, but also at times when it did not have a community for which it was the only language or the principal one. For example, during the late Middle Ages, when the Jewish public as a whole returned to the state of not being able to read Arabic as a consequence of the Arab retreat from Europe, many translations were made from Arabic into Hebrew of the works of the great Jewish writers. It is well known to what extent the Hebrew in the translations was influenced by the Arabic original. The same applies to the innovations which were initiated during the Haskala period under the influence of European languages, and these innovations were by no means few.

Recently Joshua Blau has pointed out a similar occurrence in the literary Arabic of recent generations: there has been a marked increase in the number of neologisms, vast and rapid change in the range of meanings, as well as other new phenomena. [23] He even cites many points of resemblance between what has occurred in this type of Arabic and what has taken place in Hebrew in recent generations. Indeed, many writers refer to this kind of development as "revival", with its new vocabulary and ways of expression. For example, one can talk about the later writers of the Haskala like Mendele as being participants in the revival of the language, if not its actual revivalists. [24] Blau's comparisons are also based on "language revival" in this broader sense, and therefore he can speak in one and the same breath about "the revival of Hebrew" and about "the revival of literary Arabic", although Hebrew happened to become the principal language of a new society (and that alone is "revival" according to our definition), whereas a similar thing did not happen to literary Arabic. We must bear in mind that neologisms appear in every language in every generation, according to its needs and to the extent of the scientific and cognitive development of its users. Processes of innovation take place even in firmly established languages like English or French, while it is obvious that these languages did not pass through any revival. For this reason it is appropriate to reject the broad definition which is applied to the concept of "language revival" and to ascribe this concept only to the meaning defined above. [25] Growth and development are one thing, revival another.

 

The Revival - in Palestine Only.

It seems that the description of a society and the languages it uses cancels out the need to go into the semantic question as to whether Hebrew was a "dead language" or a "dying" or "obsolete language", or to define the meaning of these terms. [26] The problem is essentially a social one. In this connection it should be pointed out that the process of revival took place in a very particular society and in a well-defined geographical area: that is in Palestine, principally in the new villages that were established there, but also in the new urban areas. We use the word "principally" since it did not occur in these areas alone. Apparently a similar thing occurred also within the boundaries of the old Yishuv [the early Jewish inhabitants of Palestine], especially among Sephardic communities.

According to a letter from Jerusalem in Tishri 5th, 1890, a society for the promotion of Hebrew ("Safa Brura") succeeded in "planting the study of our sacred language in the hearts of the youth of the Talmud Torah [Rabbinical school] of this community [Sephardic] and the teachers speak Hebrew with the pupils". (Leqet (1970), 2, 23).

The emergence of the revival in Palestine raises the question of the social circumstances which made it possible, and we shall return to this question soon. For the time being it is important to note that only in Palestine during the last quarter of the nineteenth century were schools founded which nurtured generations whose only language or principal language was Hebrew.

Only about twenty years later were schools founded outside Palestine in which Hebrew was said to be the principal language of tuition. The "Modern Heder" (religious elementary school in Eastern Europe at the end of the nineteenth century) was in fact under the influence of the "direct approach" of language tuition and usually adopted the system of "Hebrew via Hebrew" either to a partial or total extent. [27] However, the "Modern Heder" was not able to reach the stage of turning Hebrew into the exclusive language of education. [28] The first school outside Palestine in which Hebrew was the exclusive language was probably a nursery school (Warsaw 1909). [29] In the course of time, a network of schools known as "Tarbut Schools" came into being and acquired particular fame. These were founded in Eastern Europe, mainly in Poland, between the two world wars. There were also a number of Hebrew schools in other places like Tripoli in North Africa. However, by then the process of revival in Palestine had already been concluded. As for the schools outside Palestine, it was out of the question to seriously consider Hebrew as being the only language or the principal one of the students, unless the students were going to leave their country of residence and go to Palestine. The reason is clear: these schools functioned within a society which had its own national language, one which was the only language or the principal one of its masses.

 

Factors which Made the Revival Possible.

Having defined the essence of the revival as a social process in principal, it is incumbent upon us to examine the factors which let to its occurrence. Every resolution, however lofty it may be, will not succeed unless it falls upon ground which allows it to materialise. What transformed the resolution to turn Hebrew into a medium for the study, speech and thought of the younger generation into a tangible decision? Apparently in the history of linguistics no such distinct precedent exists of a language in only partial use by people who used it, which became the exclusive language or the principal one of the offspring of a section of those people. There are many who have dismissed this exceptional occurrence as "a miracle" and hence considered themselves as being exempt from asking what made such a thing possible. On the other hand there were linguists who were of the opinion that such a happening "was impossible" and consequently made every effort to deny outright the process of revival, claiming that Hebrew has been spoken uninterruptedly in Palestine since ancient times. [30] Yet the revival really did take place, and we are aware of its course in considerable detail. It is obvious that a scholar cannot evade attempting to explain such a unique occurrence, and in no way can he discharge himself with the excuse that it is "a miracle".

It appears that the revival of Hebrew could take place and succeed thanks to a combination of several factors:

(a) The circumstances prevalent in Palestine made the revival of Hebrew possible from the social point of view.

(b) Hebrew was accessible to the majority of the candidates for its revival, and

(c) Many candidates were deeply inspired with the will to revive it. [31]

 

The Opportunity.

Palestine did not have a national language of its own. [32] Throughout the Ottoman Empire a pre-national social condition prevailed. The ideas of the French revolution with regard to "the nation" being the source of governmental authority had not reached the inhabitants of the Empire, and it did not occur to them to solve the question of the identity of the "people" who dwelt there, or the "peoples" who resided in different regions. The residents were divided up among themselves in accordance with their affiliation to ethnic-religious or religious groups. In the same country, even in the same town or the same village, ethnic-religious links, not the shared village or town, determined the affiliation to the "social group". Furthermore, these links extended over wide areas. A resident of Izmir sometimes belonged to the same "social group" to which belonged a resident of Alexandria or Damascus, and at the same time he came to be isolated and separated from the other inhabitants of Izmir. All the Muslims ­ Turks, Arabs, Circassians or Albanians ­ were one with the "Muslim community" (the 'Umma). Whereas the non-Muslims belonged to ethnic-religious groups approved by law (known as "Millets"). The law of the state was totally binding on the Muslims and was essentially oriented towards Islam. Whereas, in a number of matters, especially those concerned with personal status, the various Millets had their own laws. A number of the Millets used languages which were particular to them, some in partial use, especially for prayer, like Greek in the Eastern communities of the Greek Orthodox Church, some in full use like Aramaic in the communities of the Nestorian (Syriac) Church. Of primary concern to us here is that Palestine did not have any particular language of its own, but the languages used by the inhabitants of the Empire as a whole were also used by the residents of Palestine.

(1) Literary Arabic.

This was a language of prayer and preaching. For a considerable section of the inhabitants of the Empire it was also the language for printing and writing in general. In the spheres of religious writing and prayer, it was the common language of all Muslims ­ Turks, Arabs, Bosnians or Jannissaries. It did not fall into the category of the "national language", but was in partial use. Nor did it exhibit any distinctiveness with regard to the Muslim residents of Palestine, but was used by them mainly in the same spheres as by other Muslims, whether within or beyond the borders of the Empire. From the time that newspapers became established in the Ottoman Empire, there were those which were printed in Palestine in literary Arabic in the same way as they were printed in many other countries outside Palestine like Egypt and the Lebanon.

(2) Turkish.

With the exception of the inhabitants of central Anatolia for whom Turkish was also the language of everyday speech, Turkish was used throughout the Empire for matters of state, for the army and for government. It made no difference what vernacular you were accustomed to speak at home, if you aspired to have dealings in government matters, you had to know Turkish and use it, whether you were Turkish or Arab, Greek or Armenian.

(3) Colloquial Arabic.

This was the most widespread of the spoken languages, yet in the opinion of all who spoke it, it was despised. Colloquial Arabic was not considered to be a "language", but a dialect of the illiterate (and of women), a kind of corrupt form of "true" Arabic. This language was not written and obviously had no written literature, and certainly no published works. The lack of acknowledgement of Colloquial Arabic as an independent language and the huge gap between it and Literary Arabic were the factors which rendered the study of Arabic both difficult and ineffective for people whose spoken vernacular was another language. Such people could acquire it mainly from daily contact with Arabic speakers, that is, not through formal study. Literary Arabic was taught in schools, but the study of it yielded only the minimum of benefit to those who sought to speak Arabic.

The lack of a national language in Palestine was known and acknowledged even by contemporaries of the period. Let us glance at some information from Ha-Tzvi, 1888, (No. 5, the 21st of Marheshwan).

Our readers will find below a summary of the controversies which arose at the meeting of the Board of The Anglo-Jewish Association with regard to the study of Hebrew. In the opinion of one of the eminent members of the Board, Mr Leopold Schloss, the information which was included in the report concerning the school under the supervision of Mr Nissim Bachar was very curious. In this school, Hebrew was used not only for religious studies but also for the teaching of secular subjects. He posed a question: was it not true that it had always been the policy of the Association to urge that study of any kind be taught in the language of the country in which the school operates? Two answers greeted this question, one of them from Dr Gaster, the Rabbi of the Sephardic community [in London], to the effect that in the Levant there was no such language, that is to say a common language for all the inhabitants of the country. Another member of the Board, an army officer, Mr Goldschmidt, who had served in Palestine a number of years previously, endorsed this and added that as far as Jewish aspirations and aims were concerned, it would not be desirable to oppose the use of Hebrew. The second reply came from Mr D. P. Schloss in response to Mr L. Schloss's remarks, to the effect that people who came from all parts of Europe and Asia needed a common language for one and all, and that language was Hebrew.

The discussion outlined here illustrates that the question concerning Palestine's national language was certainly raised. People who were accustomed to the existence of national states or regions like those in Europe could not understand why the Jews of Palestine did not behave in the same way as other Jews did. Three answers in this connexion were given in the discussion, one (by Dr Gaster) which was clarified above, the second (by Mr D.P. Schloss) in what follows, and the third (by Mr Goldschmidt ­ the "aspirations") which will be dealt with later.

 

The Accessibility.

Hebrew was accessible to most candidates of its revival. In a previous section we saw how the language of communication and negotiation for Jews of different communities was Hebrew even prior to Ben-Yehuda's arrival in Jerusalem. Likewise we adduced evidence that during the 1860s, many of "the children of the people of Zion spoke eloquently in Hebrew". We even know for sure that linguistic communication took place in the Sephardic pronunciation. The second answer to the astonishment of Mr L. Schloss referred to this, and, as mentioned, much of the evidence submitted by Parfitt referred to contacts among Jews of different communities. It should be emphasised that this fact alone, that is, the existence of Jews of different communities and speaking different languages in one city, could not "by itself bring about the revival of Hebrew. It was not the only place in the world where Jews of different communities resided. For example, Spanish, Portuguese and Ashkenazi Jews lived in Amsterdam for a long period. They even established separate congregations and synagogues - as in Jerusalem ­ and it is reasonable to suppose that there was also contact among these different communities. Nevertheless, no schools were established in Amsterdam where Hebrew was used as a teaching medium, nor did there exist any particular inclination to revive Hebrew, and in fact no revival took place there. The reason for this is very simple: a dominant national language prevailed in Amsterdam, the all- encompassing language of Holland, Dutch. Therefore, when Jews of different communities in Amsterdam met up with one another, they already had a common language, Dutch, the national language. Hence they were not compelled to speak Hebrew among themselves.

In Palestine, on the other hand, no such all-encompassing national language existed. If such had been the case, it is doubtful whether the efforts towards the revival of Hebrew would have achieved any success. The decisive factor in the revival of Hebrew was certainly the lack of a national language in Palestine, not the knowledge of Hebrew which members of the Jewish communities had acquired and the partial use to which some of them put it. It should also be remembered that the pronunciation of Hebrew, which varied from community to community, did not allow the simple statement to be made that "Hebrew was the common language for Jews". For printing this was so, but for speech it was something else altogether. The members of different communities could not speak to one another until after the Ashkenazim and members of other communities had learnt to change their pronunciation and make it conform to Sephardi pronunciation. In their early contacts with the Sephardim, the Ashkenazim did not always understand them because they did not share a common language. [33] Incidentally, a similar situation arose in later years when complaints were voiced concerning the Yemenites and how difficult it was to comprehend their language. [34] Nonetheless, the knowledge of Hebrew, even though its use was only partial, which was so widespread among the Jews, was extremely helpful for its fast dispersion. In most families there was a certain knowledge of Hebrew, especially among the fathers, and once the young children had brought their new language home from school, their parents were able to respond to them, at least to a certain extent. [35]

Even so, for the parents to accept the new language favourably and agree to its being used in school, they must have shared in the will to revive it.

 

The Will to Revive.

The will to revive Hebrew had manifested itself quite a few years before Ben-Yehuda's arrival in Jerusalem. A spirit of awakening and a yearning for a change of values spread among the members of the Old Yishuv during the 1860s. About twenty years before Ben-Yehuda's arrival, Hebrew newspapers began to be published in Jerusalem.

According to Galia Yardeni, the publication of these newspapers happened as a result of a "circle of young people who ... aspired for changes in the structure of the Yishuv". [36] It is clear that there existed in Palestine young people who "thirsted for cultural enlightenment and also sought a window opening out on to the big world beyond a Jerusalem imprisoned within her walls". [37] These young people sought ways of supporting themselves, not through the Haluqa (charitable funds received from abroad by Jews in Palestine for distribution among the needy), but through the labour of their own hands. [38]

During this period, the first genuine attempts were made to venture out beyond the walls of the cities in order to acquire land for agriculture and to settle on it, to establish businesses for crafts and commerce and so on. The activities of Montefiore were oriented to the general mood and fervent desire prevailing at that time to break away from the life of Haluqa and from financial dependence on benefactors from outside Palestine. This time they achieved more success than the earlier attempts in this direction had yielded. [39]

This trend waxed strong during the 1870s. More groups with an aim to settle on the land came into being, and towards the end of the decade they succeeded in purchasing areas of land and settling its members there, something it had not previously managed to achieve. Petah Tiqwa was thus founded by those who ventured beyond the walls of Jerusalem, and Rosh Pinna by those from Old Safed. For they also, as they put it, "despised the bread of humiliation", that is, the charity of benefactors from abroad. [40]

It is difficult to pinpoint precisely the events and actions and factors which directly precipitated this awakening and caused it to be so general and so resolute that it stirred the Jews of Palestine into action at that particular time. Yet it may be surmised that the causes were twofold.

(1) Spring of Nations in "Europe.

The mood of national awakening prevailing in Europe in the wake of the French Revolution and the Napoleonic wars, became decisive in the 1840s and 1850s. This mood inspired oppressed nations with the desire to renew their former glory. It also penetrated via various routes into the Jewish communities of the Old Yishuv. As usual, members of the younger generation were more prone to its influence. It should not be forgotten that these communities continued to absorb more and more immigrants and visitors from Europe, in an ever-continuing stream.

The Jewish communities who received them were thus more exposed than the Muslims and other Millet communities in Palestine to the mood of the outside world, and they knew more about what was going on in it.

Another thing which occurred among the youth of the Old Yishuv was that they studied European languages, and a few of them even visited Europe and stayed there for a time before returning to Palestine. For example, Y.D. Frumkin, who was later to become the editor of "Ha-Havatzelet", stayed in Europe for a year or so when he was about eighteen years of age, in 1869. [41]

(2) Glory of the Past.

However, the desire for renaissance undoubtedly gained strength and became crystalised thanks also to another cause: the knowledge and awareness that the land in which they dwelt was the land of their forefathers which had seen glorious days in the past. Thus, for example, someone with the pen-name "Lover" proclaimed in 1871, in the newly resurrected Ha-Havatzelet (the Turks had withdrawn its printing licence for about seven years):

The time has come to be solicitous for the land of our forefathers. The era we have awaited for so many years has dawned. So why are we still like dreamers? [42]

The reason for this proclamation was that the Sultan had awarded equal status "with the authority of the law, to all subjects who bow to his rule". This apparently refers to the law of 1867, by which foreign subjects were allowed to purchase land all over the Empire (excluding the Hijaz).

Resurrection of times past, and always with a deep sense of awareness that "the old days" were more glorious and superior in comparison to present ills ­ such was the guiding principle in the consciousness of the oppressed peoples who were seeking their freedom in Europe during the nineteenth century. The existence of such a sentiment was perceivable in the prayers and writings of the Diaspora Jews as a whole, but it acquired concrete significance when it was heard against the background of Palestine, when those uttering it could actually see before their eyes what the words signified.

Yehoseph Schwartz, for example, in a letter from 1851, describes Halhul, a town in Judaea (mentioned in Joshua 15.5 8). He points out that the ancient name was still preserved up to that day, and adds that "according to the tradition of our forefathers which is still with us, the site of the grave of Gad the prophet is there". [43] When Yoel Moshe Salomon travelled round Palestine, he gazed upon places he passed from the point of view of their antiquity and examined allusions to them in ancient literature. [44] Ephraim Cohen-Reiss relates, that to his childhood companions and to himself it was obvious that Rabbi Ishma'el the High Priest "before entering the Temple, the Holy of Holies, would ... immerse in this pool [Gihon spring], which must in those days have been in a different condition than it is today". [45] Such recollections of the fantasies of childhood, which identified Biblical place-names with their surroundings, also appear not infrequently in autobiographies and children's books of Jews outside Palestine, but their childhood fantasies dimmed all too quickly no sooner had they grown up.

Children in Palestine, however, retained their childhood memories ad infinitum, since they possessed a strong basis of real facts to support their perpetuity. Then along came archaeology to reinforce such memories.

(3) Impact of Archaeology.

Up until that period very few archaeological digs had been organised in Palestine. The first serious scientific survey was arranged in 1858 - only after the Egyptian Khedive ruled over Palestine - but the first archaeological dig was held only in the 1850s, and the following one only in 1863. Every finding was regarded by the Jews as a remnant of their glorious past. For example, when a dig was carried out (in 1851) under the Ashkenazi synagogue in the Old City - apparently this dig was for building purposes - there came to light "a large number of tiny flasks of the length of an inch. Many scholars and historians decided that these flasks contained the ashes of the Red Heifer! (cf. Numbers 19.1 ff.). In this find they saw verification of their conjecture that the foundations of the building were from antiquity. [46] In 1872, Joseph Krieger, who held then the important office of "Interpreter to the Pasha" in Jerusalem, and was by way of being "an advocate for his fellow Jews", published a moving letter in Ha-Havatzelet, in which he tells of the discovery of an ancient inscription warning the outsider not to approach the Temple. His letter opens with the following words: "With a heart full of intermingled joy and sorrow, I am setting before you today a translation of the words engraved on a large stone [in Greek] which was found in one of the buildings on Temple Mount, unearthed by builders in the course of their work - this stone being precious beyond estimation. The inscription fills our hearts with emotions so tender that they cannot be expressed in words". [47] Veiled in obscurity with no interpretation; perhaps he thought it better to prevent the substance of those "tender emotions" from going into print. Yet it is obvious what the "joy" must have been, and the "sorrow" upon seeing this inscription.

It seems as though the archaeological finds, which ostensibly began to increase during these years, particularly the ancient engravings and inscriptions, served to confirm and fortify the awareness and aspirations of the generation of those seeking renaissance. In addition, it bore witness to them of the "glory of the old days", testifying like indisputable evidence to the fact that Hebrew was once the language of Palestine. If a suitable language existed above all others to qualify as the national language, then Hebrew was indeed that language. There it was before our very eyes, a language from the land of our forefathers. Indeed, the very stones cried out in Hebrew.

 

Renaissance Includes Revival of Hebrew.

Certainly this mood of striving for change, which had no connexion whatsoever with Zionism since it preceded the first emergence of Zionism in Europe, also expressed obvious wishes for the revival of Hebrew. A.M. Lunz tells about his teacher in the 1860s, Rabbi Moshe Nehemia Cahaniu (= Cahanov, also known as "the Rabbi of Hassalovitz") as follows: "He was the first to begin speaking Hebrew. Only when it was difficult for him to express all his thoughts did he revert to speaking a mixture of Hebrew and Jargon (Yiddish)". [48]

Ephraim Cohen-Reiss studied in the same Yeshiva (Talmudic college) and according to him, "He [the Rabbi] would talk to me about the Haskala and the study of languages ... and intersperse words and phrases of Hebrew among his conversation as was his wont in the Yeshiva". [49]

Hanna Lunz-Bolotin, daughter of A.M. Lunz, states: "Both on the Sabbath and weekdays Hebrew was spoken in public [in the same Yeshiva]". [50] Lunz also recalls someone else, Benjamin Ze'ev Ha-Levy, son of Ya'aqob Ha-Levy Saphir, who "very much encouraged young people who endeavoured to learn Hebrew perfectly". [51]

This evidence is cited here so that it may be understood that young people in Jerusalem made attempts to learn Hebrew.

It also brings to mind what was quoted above about the "children of the people of Zion" who "spoke Hebrew eloquently". At the same time these words were recorded in Ha-Havatzelet (1871):

How can we not be stirred by the sparks of fire which are being kindled on the altar of our hearts? How can our spirit not be sacrificed as a whole offering on account of what is happening to our pure language in our Holy city? ... Alongside all this, joy has increased within us at the realisation that in this very city, the spirit of God has inspired those living here to uphold their language as a pure thing, to preserve in every soul the only remnant which remains to us of the precious things we once held. A great hope is imminent that it will not be long before the word of God will come out of Zion. [52]

It is of particular importance to refer here to a section from a memorandum written by Yehi'el Mikhal Pines, a man of many talents and an excellent writer, who was appointed to act as a representative to the Friends of Moshe Montefiore of the Anglo-Jewish Association in Jerusalem. He came to Jerusalem in 1878 and lost no time in achieving respected standing in Jerusalem society. As one acquainted with local problems, he wrote a detailed memorandum about his plan of action. It is dated 15/1/1879, about two years prior to Ben-Yehuda's arrival in Palestine, before the "First 'Alia" (first wave of Zionist immigration) and before any kind of Zionist activity was aroused either abroad or in Palestine, even before the first appearance of Ben-Yehuda in his "A Burning Question". [53]

As far as schools are concerned, I hope to establish an orderly school system in the village. The curriculum will include the Torah of God, also the Hebrew and Arabic languages to a high standard ... the language in which all these subjects are to be studied will be Hebrew and all my efforts will be directed towards the rejuvenation of this language until it succeeds in becoming the spoken language of the village itself. [54]

In the terminology we have used, it may be said that Pines had in mind almost precisely what we have termed "revival of the language", that is to say the establishment of a society of people for whom Hebrew would be the principal language. He also indicated the way in which this might be achieved: through the founding of schools and transforming of Hebrew into the language of their pupils.

The only difference was that he spoke about one village only, at least for the time being, in which he wanted to introduce Hebrew. He did not mention the country as a whole. But it may be explained as a consequence of the kind of material that he wrote, a memorandum for practical plans. Anyway, Pines was both aware of and acquainted with the disposition and aspirations towards revival which effervesced among the young people of the Old Yishuv. If he had not recognized such a mood around him, he would not have been able to promote the founding of a school in which the language of tuition would be Hebrew. Indeed, the founding of such a school depended on the express wish of the parents concerned to send their children there for without their will to do so there would be no point in founding it in the first place (see beginning of article).

Thus it was that a special blend of historical factors came to be compounded in the second half of the nineteenth century:

The lack of a national language in Palestine, the accessibility of Hebrew to most of the candidates for its revival, and the awakening of their will to revive it. This will grew as a consequence of their seeking for change in the way of life, a seeking closely bound up with their yearning to "bring back the old days", a yearning fortified by the identification of ancient Israel and the ancient language with present circumstances and the Hebrew which was frequently to be found on their lips.

 

Ben-Yehuda's Role.

Finally one further observation should be made here: although, as mentioned above, the spirit of language revival was already in evidence a decade or two prior to Ben-Yehuda's arrival in Jerusalem, this does not mean to say that the revival actually took place before he came. He is the one who endowed this abstract desire with the semblance of reality. In his relentless public insistence on opening Hebrew schools, [55] in transforming Hebrew into the exclusive language of his home, and in persistently advocating the revival of Hebrew in his newspapers, he won over new followers to the idea of revival and was a source of strength to those who shared the same beliefs. [56] From among them arose those who took the decisive step: Hebrew schools were founded in which the language of tuition was Hebrew. Ben-Yehuda's disciples looked up to him as a guide and spiritual leader who played an active role in their work. [57]

Ben-Yehuda's unequivocal decision to speak Hebrew from the moment he set foot in Palestine and the social function he fulfilled by so doing, justify attributing to him the decisive role in the foundation of the revival movement. His arrival in Palestine should be considered as the onset of the period which came to an end with the cessation of Ottoman rule. Since then Hebrew has become a normal language which is the only language or the principal one of its masses.

 

Notes

 

* This work has been compiled in Britain thanks to The Oxford Centre for Postgraduate Hebrew Studies, where I stayed in 1981/82, and could use the library and archives of the Kressel Collection. I am also indebted to the British Academy who invited me as their Israeli guest for the first part of that year. Back

 

1 A good example of this may be found in the memoirs of Levin-Epstein. He relates how his eight year old son turned to him for help in a matter appertaining to his studies. The child erroneously assumed that his father would not understand the matter because it was in Hebrew. After hesitating for a moment, he declared : "I don't know how to say this in Yiddish". Levin- Epstein (1932), 210, according to Haramati (1979), 24-25. Back

2 Me'ir Belkind, father of Israel Belkind, relates in a letter from 28th lyyar, 1890, concerning a school in Jaffa, that "the parents of the children see [what is happening in it] and they are beside themselves with joy, for they would never have dreamt of such a thing". According to him, the initiative for the founding of the school came from within Jaffa: "It so happened that some spirit moved the residents of Jaffa to consider the future of their children who were growing up without education or any form of knowledge. They turned to Israel Belkind and he agreed to open a school in accordance with detailed plans which he would submit to them". Druyanov (1932). Back

3 "I saw his daughter aged two years and three months and she spoke only Hebrew ... and ... upon her return home, she would teach her parents ... and if, heaven forbid, they did not pay any heed to her, she would begin to cry and refuse point blank to eat until they began to speak to her in Hebrew and also to promise her that in the future they would speak to her in Hebrew". (Hashqafa, 21st Kislew (29 Nov.), 1904, No. 21, p. 5. See Erlich (1978), 17, also Haramati (1979), 227). Other useful evidence, albeit from a later period, is the following: "Few places are as disposed to Hebrew as the home of Mr Meirovitz ... where eight year old Hannah does not know how to speak Yiddish, her mother's language, which means that her mother has been compelled to learn Hebrew from Hannah". Kalwari (1916) ). Back

4 Secondary school pupils in Palestine bore witness to this in 1913: "We ... speak, study, and think in it, and in it alone". (Ha-Po'el Ha-Tza'ir Vol 6,37, 29th Siwan, 1913). Back

5 Ornan (1977), 7. See also the sensible words of Nahir (1977). He wrote on "revival of language" as opposed to "revival of speech", the latter, according to him, being what happened to Hebrew. See also Mandel (1981), 27. Back

6 According to what may be deduced from Haramati (19/9), 5 ff. Back

7 Too much concern is given sometimes to the question of who first began to teach according to this method. Haramati composed a special book on the subject, which may be of interest, but it is entitled: "Three Who Preceded Ben Yehuda", Haramati (1978). This title is misleading. He means "three who preceded Ben Yehuda with the introduction of teaching Hebrew via Hebrew", but it has nothing to do with the revival, while Ben-Yehuda is famous as the "Revivalist". See the end of the present paper. Back

8 Parfitt (1972). Back

9 See Ya'an (1943), 122, 124-5, 128, 135, 149, 246, etc. Back

10 Cohen-R.eiss (1967), 37. Yardeni (1969), 314, discusses in brief "who spoke Hebrew in Palestine", and also cites Cohen-Reiss. Back

11 Lunz-Bolotin (1968), 21. Back

12 Ibid., 24. Here she is referring to the 1860s. Back

13 Cohen-Reiss (1867), 77. Back

14 Ibid., 78. Back

15 Grayewski (1930), 12. Back

16 Yellin (1924), 103. Also Salomon (1939),160. Back

17 Salomon (1939), I84. The writer, a grandson of Y.M. Salomon, claims to have copied this from Yehuda ar-Yerushalaim, Year 2, no. 4, 27. Back

18 Shaeffer's claim [Shaeffer (1972)], according to part of the same material which Parfitt presented, that the Jews of Palestine "spoke Aramaic", and that this was indeed "New Hebrew", is totally without foundation, as is known to anyone with the slightest knowledge of these languages. Back

19 Scharfstein (1941), 395. However, there were women who could speak Hebrew. See, e.g., Levy (1899), 115: "Montefiore was delighted ... yet more moved to admiration upon hearing one of the Sephardic women speaking eloquent Hebrew whilst conversing with Dr Levy". The year in question was 1865. Further evidence in given in the material compiled by Parfitt. See also Kaniel (1975), 50-54. Back

20 See Mandel (1981), 38, note 8. Back

21 "It has been taught that Rabbi [Yehuda Ha-Nasi'] said: 'For what is Aramaic used in the Land of Israel? - Either the Holy language [Hebrew] or Greek!'" (Baba Qamma 72,2 and similar version Sota 49,2). Hence it is clear that three languages were current among the residents of Palestine. The following well-known saying would seem to apply to this situation: "Greek for song, Latin for war, Aramaic for lamentation, Hebrew for speech" (Jerusalem Talmud, Sota 7,2). Back

22 Rabin (1969), 27; for comparison of these societies see Ornan (1977), 7-10; See an interesting description of the situation and its social and psychological implication in Arab society today in Shouby (1951). Back

23 Blau (1976). The book is based on earlier publications by the same author under the same title. See also Rabin (1980), 128. Back

24 This is an accepted view of many scholars. Klausner (1959), 383, mentions Mendele as a revivalist, although in a different sense than that of Pines or Ben Yehuda; Rabin (1973), 47, emphasizes the important role of the Haskala literature as preparing the revival, as does Haramati (1979), 256; Kutscher (1982), 183, begins the chapter on "The Rivival of Hebrew" with a long discussion on the Haskala. Later he calls Mendele the "creator of Modern Hebrew" (ibid., 190, 194). Back

25 A short discussion on the kinds of "revival" in Rabin (1980), 128, 133. Back

26 W. Chomsky (1957), 206-227, gives a negative answer to the question "Did Hebrew Ever Die?". Back

27 Berman (1946), 139, explains that "schools based on pure Hebrew were founded in Galicia [Poland] at the end of the nineteenth century. The first school ... in 1896. ... There was a club attached to each school in which Hebrew was spoken and used as a medium for teaching". See also the following remark. Back

28 See especially Zuta (1934), 134-6, who explains simply that despite the fact that his teaching in a "Modern Heder" using Hebrew via Hebrew approach was highly successful, nearly all his pupils left him in the third year. Their fathers would explain that there was no point in their children learning Hebrew and neglecting the national language. Similarly, A.Z Rabinovits (1935), 279 ff. told how he had taught for sixteen years outside Palestine, and in the end only a few of his pupils acquired adequate mastery of Hebrew and its literature. When he enquired as to how this state of affairs came about, the answer was as follows: "The language of the state, used inside the home and ouside, has a wide and rich literature and through it there is hope of finding a livelihood. It therefore takes priority over our national language [Hebrew] ... The language of the state with its many strong roots does not leave sufficient nourishment for the tender sapling, our hapless language". See also Haramati (1979), 276. Back

29 By Yehi'el Hailperin (my late father). See Scharfstein (1945), 417-18, and also Hebrew Encyclopaedia, 14, 193. Haramati (1979), 342 summarised: "It appears that there were a number of experiments to establish nursery schools abroad, but the educational movement of Hebrew schools begins with the primary and methodical activities of Hailperin and Altermann". Back

30 See in particular Schaeffer (1972). Also Parfitt's aim, which is discussed above, could be understood as an examination of the possibility that no revival ever took place. Back

31 Dr George Mandel was good enough to let me look through the unpublished text of his lecture at the Congress for Hebrew in Warsaw, August, 1980. In his lecture he made an interesting hypothesis: as was usually the case in other societies, the zealots for the revival of the language were a small minority (in Eastern Europe), but the moment the movement for emigration came into being, it was then - according to his hypothesis - that the very devotees of revivalism went to Palestine, whereas those who were indifferent to it went to America or remained in Russia. Hence a special concentration of enthusiasts for revival were resident in Palestine with the golden opportunity to achieve their ideal without opposition. Thus far his statement. It is difficult to prove this interesting hypothesis; at any rate it has not so far been examined. I should only like to comment that the war over Hebrew was waged in almost all towns and villages in Palestine, where usually the other residents - apart from a number of schoolmasters and a few others besides - did not speak Hebrew. Also, when the "Second 'Alia" arrived, those among them who spoke Hebrew were in the minority compared with the "Yiddishists", as far as can be deduced from reports on workers' gatherings. Yet at the same time there was the presence of the children and young people, and this presence tipped the scales. Likewise many of the enthusiasts for Hebrew emigrated to America, both those travelling directly from Eastern Europe and those who had first sojourned in Palestine. See also note 35 below. Back

32 See Ornan (1971). Back

33 The different hand writing also disturbed normal communication, this being illustrated in a Sephardic letter of recommendation concerning A. L. Frumkin from Jerusalem to his town in Eastern Europe, which caused serious misunderstanding. See Rivlin's preface to Frumkin (1928), 22. Back

34 "However we have to communicate with our brothers the Yemenites ... it is truly difficult to communicate with them verbally, so instead of that you employ the service of the written or printed word". (Ha-Po'el Ha-Tsa'ir, year 6, no. 16-17, p. 6). Back

35 On top of this it should be born in mind that from the time young Jewish immigrants came from Eastern Europe to the New Yishuv (in the Second 'Alia), about fifteen years after the opening of the new schools, they had no difficulty in falling in with their contemporaries in Palestine, since Hebrew had also been accessible to them thanks to their studies in "Hadarim" and "Yeshivot" and probably also the presence of words of Hebrew origin in their mother tongue, Yiddish. According to Dovid Katz (private communication), there are about five thousand words of Hebrew origin in Yiddish and these include not only nouns, but also verbs, prepositions and conjunctions. It is true that a section of the new arrivals were "Yiddishists", but even these were compelled to submit to the reality of Hebrew. Reliable evidence for this process may be found in the strivings of the "Workers of Zion" (see the revealing words of Issac Ben-Tzvi in Erez (1962), 7-9). From the outset, the group loyal to Hebrew and the most zealous for it found its place principally in Ha-Po'el Ha-Tsa'ir, Young Worker Movement. According to one piece of interesting evidence, the "Young Worker" grew out of the Petah-Tiqwa branch of the youth movement founded in Rishon-Le-Zion by local boys and girls called "The Young Hebrew" one year earlier than that. Yudelovitz (1942), 213. Back

36 Yardeni (1969), 18. Back

37 Ibid. 19. Back

38 See A. L. Frumkin's letter, 2nd Shevat, 1883, Druyanov (1932), 520-522: "In the years ... 1872 ... 1873 ... 1878 ... many of the residents of Jerusalem despised the charity of the Haluqa and resolved to exchange for it the ploughshare and the plough". Ibid. 277 f. supports this. See also Ilan (1978), 37f. Back

39 The attempts by Mordekhay Ben Rashaz (Tzoref-Salomon) and others of the generation preceding Yo'el Moshe Salomon, to forsake the "bread of humiliation" and engage in agriculture or handicrafts (weaving and spinning) were, it seems, exceptional in that generation. See Salomon (1939), 93, 107, etc. See also note 8 on p. 106, as well as p.116, etc. The letters referred to are from the years 1839 and 1845. Back

40 According to Ha-Tzfira, 1878, no. 28, 22nd Tammuz: "In response to this call, thirty of those who despised the Bread of humiliation from benefactors came to affix their signature with a view to buying the village of Gia'uni in order to work the land of Palestine ... we bought half the village". From Yavne'eli (1961), 4. Back

41 Yardeni (1969) 35. Back

42 Ha-Havatzelet, 1871, no. 15, 1st iyyar. Back

43 Grayewski (1930) 9. Back

44 Salomon (1939), I74-5. Back

45 Cohen-Reiss (1967), 13-14. Back

46 Grayewski (1930), 13. Back

47 Ha-Havatzelet, 1873, no. 2, 27th Tishri, 11. Back

48 Lunz (1971), 209. Back

49 Cohen-Reiss (1967), 55. Back

50 Lunz-Bolotin (1968), 16. Back

51 Lunz (1971), 228. Back

52 Ha-Havatzelet, 1971, no. 24, 2nd Elul, p.94. Back

53 The article was published under the title of "A Weighty Question". See D. Patterson (1981). Back

54 Pines (1938), 58. Klausner (1978), 371 also refers to this, as does Haramati (1979), 264. Back

55 For example: "With Regard to the Question of Education" which was published in Ha-Havatzelet, 1880, Kislew and "The Banner of Nationalism", Ha-maggid, Elul (1880)-Tishri (1880), see Ben-Yehuda (1941). 43, 73. Back

56 For a revealing account on Ben-Yehuda in the process of revival see Fellman (1973). Back

57 See Yudelovitz (1942), 213, 227, 236 on the staying of Yudelovitz in Jerusalem with the S. H. W. Society, 1883-1886, and Ben-Yehuda's influence on him. Alzo Druyanov (1932), 1011, footnote. Back