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FEATURES: Judaism’s War on Poverty
By David G. Dalin
Why have Jewish liberals abandoned the Jewish charitable tradition of self-help?
For Centuries, the
Jewish tradition of self-help has been
rescuing the poor from dependency. So why have Jewish
liberals
abandoned it to embrace the welfare state?
American Jews have
traditionally maintained a deep commitment to just and
compassionate social policies. They rightly believe that
their religious tradition obliges them to care for the
disadvantaged. As social workers, social policy activists,
public officials, intellectuals, and voters, Jewish liberals
in particular have enthusiastically embraced
public-assistance programs and welfare benefits as an
appropriate expression of the principle of Tzedakah
(charity) that is so central to Jewish religious tradition.
Unfortunately, many of these Jewish liberals have
profoundly misunderstood the biblical concept of Tzedakah.
From biblical Israel to pre-New Deal America, the principles
of individual self-help and communal self-sufficiency were
the essence of both the Jewish view of charity and the
evolving Jewish philanthropic tradition. In recent decades,
however, many liberal Jewish defenders of government social
programs have mistakenly equated Tzedakah with the
principles and policies of the welfare state-policies that
represent the very antithesis of the historic Jewish
charitable tradition.
Rather than extol increased government spending and social
welfare programs, American Jews should reaffirm the
traditional Jewish religious preference for charitable
lending over almsgiving, and recognize that it provides an
especially effective model of communal self-help that other
communities throughout America might emulate. As alternatives
to dependency on public assistance or government welfare,
interest-free loans can provide individuals with the means to
achieve self-sufficiency in small businesses of their own, to
attend college or professional school, and to tide people
over in times of unemployment or illness.
Biblical Charity
The word Tzedakah derives from the Hebrew root Zedek,
which denotes "righteousness" and
"justice." The biblical laws of Tzedakah
translated these principles into concrete religious and legal
duties. In the Book of Deuteronomy, God commands the
Israelites "to open thy hand unto the poor and
needy." For Jews, this aid is not a voluntary act of
kindness-it is obligatory.
According to the Book of Leviticus, farmers in biblical
Israel were obligated to leave a corner of their fields for
the poor to harvest themselves, and to leave the gleanings of
their own harvest-the grain or fruits that had been left or
forgotten-to the poor, the widowed, and the orphaned. The
Hebrew Bible also mandates a special tithe, a sort of public
tax on income, that pious Jews for centuries have
scrupulously set aside for the poor.
The requirements of Tzedakah were expanded in later
centuries by Talmudic and medieval Jewish scholars. The
Talmud, the classic compendium of Jewish religious law
completed in the sixth century, preserves a multitude of
rabbinic statements and maxims that emphasize the pivotal
role of Tzedakah in Jewish religious and communal
life. One of the best known is Rabbi Assi's dictum that
charity is "the equivalent of all the other religious
precepts together."
Judaism
favors social policies that require
the recipients of welfare benefits or public assistance
to perform some kind of service.
By the time of the rabbinic sage Hillel, who lived in the
first century, the "charity ethic" of rabbinic
Judaism was so compelling that it was a "principal
rule" that no pious Jew could live in a community that
had no organization for public charity. This rule shaped
Jewish life until the 20th century. The autonomous Jewish
communities of medieval and modern Europe and the Jewish
settlements of early America all expressed this religious
principle of Tzedakah through synagogue-based charity
and the creation of a network of independent charitable
organizations.
The Jewish Principles of Self-Help
Although it has received surprisingly little scholarly
attention, the principle of self-help has been one of the
most influential concepts in the history of Jewish religious
and political thought. The purpose of Tzedakah, the
rabbis of the Talmud believed, was to help others help
themselves.
Welfare for work. Traditional Jewish society never
condoned its members' living continuously on welfare, in the
sense either of Jewish communal public charity or of
government payments, without working in return. Hence, for
example, a communal regulation enacted by the Jewish Council
of Padua, Italy, in 1603, stipulated that the recipients of
charity would have to work. No beneficiary could evade this
requirement. This edict has been cited as an important legal
precedent by Jewish legal authorities over the centuries,
suggesting that Judaism favors social policies that require
the recipients of welfare benefits or any other public
assistance to work or perform some kind of service.
The stigma of dependency. Jewish society came to
regard dependency on public welfare as shameful. Talmudic
laws were concerned with protecting the poor from the feeling
of shame associated with dependency, emphasizing the dignity
of the charity recipient. For instance, the Talmud relates
that when Rabbi Yannai saw someone giving alms to a poor man
in public, he reportedly said to him, "It would have
been better not to give him anything at all, rather than give
it in such a way that you put the poor man to shame."
The need to preserve anonymity on the part of both donor and
recipient of charity has always been central to Jewish
religious thought.
Lending, not giving. Recognizing that charity and
welfare programs might foster permanent helplessness, the
rabbis of the Talmud considered the most meritorious form of
dispensing charity to be the giving of an interest-free loan,
which the recipient would presumably try to repay. The
concept of charitable lending originated in the Hebrew Bible
and was expanded upon in later years by Talmudic and medieval
Jewish scholars. The books of Exodus, Leviticus, and
Deuteronomy explicitly state that a Jew should not charge a
poor Jewish person interest. A celebrated and oft-quoted
Biblical verse from Exodus instructs, "If you lend money
to My people, to the poor among you, do not act toward him as
a creditor, exact no interest from him" (22:24).
Building on this precedent, the rabbis of the Talmud
frequently praised those who lend money as an alternative to
almsgiving: "He who lends [money] is greater that he who
performs charity and he who puts in capital to form a
partnership with the poor is greater than all."
Like the rabbis of the Talmud, medieval Jewish religious
authorities often advocated interest-free loans as a
preventive form of charity, whereby the needy could obtain
the capital required to become self-sufficient. Rashi, the
preeminent 11th-century commentator on the Hebrew Bible and
the Talmud, explains that there is no shame involved in the
act of borrowing, and that the wealthy may be inclined to
lend greater amounts than they would give away.
Over the centuries, the preference for charitable lending
over almsgiving became a fundamental principle of the Jewish
philanthropic tradition. Indeed, this principle found its
most famous and enduring formulation in the Mishneh Torah,
the seminal guide to the laws and teachings of Judaism,
completed by the great 12th-century Jewish philosopher Moses
Maimonides. In this important work, which codifies the
religious laws and traditions relating to charity developed
by the Jewish people over 2,000 years, Maimonides states that
the highest form of charity was the giving of a loan or a job
that helps someone to help himself. Throughout Jewish
history, these loans were an integral part of the economic
and social structure of the organized Jewish community.
The shame of public assistance. Beginning in
second-century Roman Palestine, Jewish leaders vocally
opposed government-sponsored public charity and welfare
programs. The scholar Alfred Kutzik has shown that Jews who
availed themselves of Rome's public welfare were considered
on a par with apostates, and faced communal sanctions ranging
from rabbinical criticism to losing the right to testify in a
Jewish court. Communal self-sufficiency remained a
fundamental principle of Jewish philanthropy until the 1930s.
In Jewish communities throughout the world, charitable
institutions took sole responsibility for the needs of the
Jewish poor, and opposed government intervention in their
charity work.
The "Stuyvesant Promise"
The principle of self-sufficiency was reinforced by the
original terms of Jewish settlement in America, which
required Jews to "take care of their own." In
September 1654, 34 years after the Mayflower had
brought the Pilgrims to Plymouth Rock, 23 Jews sailed into
the harbor of the Dutch colony of New Amsterdam (now New York
City). In so doing, they created the first Jewish community
on North American soil.
Jewish settlement in New Amsterdam did not proceed
smoothly at first. In contrast to the generally benevolent
disposition of the Dutch toward the Jews of Holland, Governor
Peter Stuyvesant adamantly opposed a permanent Jewish
presence in his colony. Stuyvesant has the distinction of
having been the first recorded anti-Semite in American
history: He called the Jews "hateful enemies and
blasphemers of Christ" who ought not to be allowed to
"further infect and trouble this new colony."
Within three weeks of their arrival, Stuyvesant wrote to his
employers, the directors of the Dutch West India Company, to
inform them that he would soon expel all Jews from New
Amsterdam.
The colony's Jews appealed over his head to the
authorities in Holland, relying upon their coreligionists in
the mother country to lobby on their behalf. The company
directors ordered Stuyvesant to permit the Jews to remain, on
the condition that the poor among them shall not become
public charges, that they "shall not become a burden to
the company or to the colony, but be supported by their own
[Jewish] nation."
Self-Help Among American Jews
American Jews met this stipulation to always "take
care of their own." For nearly 300 years, until the
1930s, successive generations of American Jews fulfilled this
promise to Peter Stuyvesant by building Jewish philanthropic
and self-help organizations and by consistently opposing
public welfare and government intervention in their private
charity work. As it happens, they were also fulfilling the
ancient teachings of the Jewish philanthropic tradition. For
centuries, charitable funds and institutions within the
Jewish communities sustained the indigent poor, the helpless
aged, the sick, the widowed, the orphaned, and the transient.
Until the 1820s, American Jewish charity was centered in
the synagogues, where individual congregations dispensed aid
directly to the impoverished in their midst. In early
19th-century America, however, Jewish communities began to
organize secular charitable organizations, often far removed
from synagogue life, to cope with the growing needs of the
poor. In a new "age of benevolence," charitable and
other voluntary associations, in the Jewish community as
elsewhere, proliferated all over the United States. Alexis de
Tocqueville famously described this phenomenon when he
traveled throughout America in the 1830s. Although
Tocqueville did not visit Jewish benevolent societies or
interview their leaders, his observations about America's
charitable associations nicely captured a powerful theme in
19th-century American Jewish communal life.
Between the 1820s and the Civil War, Jews laid the
foundations for many charitable institutions that still
endure, including Philadelphia's Albert Einstein Medical
Center, New York City's Mount Sinai Hospital and Federation
of Jewish Philanthropies, the earliest Jewish-sponsored
orphanages in the country, and B'nai B'rith, a network of
Jewish fraternal lodges. Beginning in the 1830s,
German-Jewish immigrants to America founded a network of
charitable institutions outside of the synagogue, including
orphan asylums, hospitals, retirement homes, settlement
houses, free-loan associations, and vocational training
schools. These efforts attested to the determination of
American Jews to care for the chronically sick and destitute
within the Jewish community.
Throughout the 19th century, and well into the 20th, Jews
steadfastly opposed any and all government assistance and
intervention in Jewish charity work. "So long as we are
able to educate our youth in the Hebrew, send Passover bread
or coal to suffering brethren, [and] preserve our own
organizations for dispensing charity to our own poor,"
editorialized the Occident, the country's major weekly
Jewish newspaper in 1858, "we should be proud to decline
contributions from any fund that belongs to the public for
public purposes."
Medieval
Jewish religious leaders advocated
interest-free loans, whereby the poor could obtain
the capital required to become self-sufficient.
Jewish leaders such as Jacob Schiff, an influential Wall
Street investment banker and one of the country's preeminent
Jewish philanthropists until his death in 1920, maintained
that Jews should do their utmost to keep other Jews from
becoming public charges. A Jew would rather cut off his hand,
Schiff once said, than apply outside of the Jewish community
for charity or public assistance. Isaac Leeser, the editor
and publisher of the Occident, the spiritual leader of
Philadelphia's venerable Mikveh Israel Congregation, and one
of the most influential American Jewish religious and
community leaders of the 19th century, regularly declared
that no Jews should live in the public almshouses,
orphanages, and other state-supported charitable institutions
of urban America. Poverty was unfortunate, Jewish leaders
believed, but public welfare, which stigmatized both the
recipient and his community, was scandalous.
The Spread of Charitable Lending
The Jewish religious tradition of lending money without
interest to the needy took root in America during the 18th
century. Jewish religious leaders in America, as in Europe,
well understood Maimonides's dictum that interest-free loans
were preferable to almsgiving, preserving as they did the
dignity and self-respect of the recipients while providing
them with the means to achieve self-sufficiency. After the
American Revolution, for example, Mikveh Israel Congregation
in Philadelphia distributed loans ranging from 10 to 20
pounds to help newcomers open businesses or to protect them
from creditors in the difficult economic circumstances of the
day. Haym Solomon, the well-known Jewish patriot, had
extended interest-free loans during the American Revolution
to both Jews and non-Jews, including Robert Morris and James
Madison. In the decades that followed, Jews often cited his
example to illustrate the centrality of charitable lending to
the evolving American Jewish philanthropic tradition.
With the arrival of hundreds of thousands of East European
Jewish immigrants in the late 19th century, Jewish
communities throughout the United States established Hebrew
free-loan societies. "Our aim is deeper than charity,
better than asylums or almshouses, of more comfort than
hospitals," stated the president of the Hebrew Free Loan
Society of New York in 1921. "We provide the needy with
the means to provide for and help themselves." Over a
30-year period, the New York Hebrew Free Loan Society, the
largest of the many Jewish charitable lending societies, lent
a total of $15 million to 400,000 borrowers.
Despite the passing of the East European immigrant era of
the 1880s to the 1920s, Hebrew free-loan societies have
continued to exist and even flourish. In order to survive in
contemporary America, the societies have designed innovative
programs to provide Jewish institutions, homebuyers, and
college students with interest-free loans. Indeed, the Hebrew
free-loan concept is today making a comeback in Jewish
charitable circles. In part this is due to the recent
immigration of Russian Jews, who, like their own immigrant
ancestors, need help in establishing themselves. Today, 42
Hebrew free-loan societies throughout the United States
continue to provide economic assistance to the needy without
the stigma of handouts.
The Jewish Philanthropists
The self-help principle also found characteristic
expression in the charitable giving of Jacob Schiff, Felix
Warburg, Isidor and Nathan Strauss, Julius Rosenwald, and
other preeminent Jewish philanthropists of late 19th- and
early 20th-century America. Of these leading German-Jewish
philanthropists of this era, Rosenwald was perhaps the most
prominent and influential.
Rosenwald was the cofounder and chairman of the board of
Sears, Roebuck and Co., which under his direction became the
largest mail-order firm in the world. The legacy of
Rosenwald's philanthropies, which would amount to more than
$63 million during his lifetime (more than $750 million in
today's dollars), would be felt for generations. Rosenwald's
extraordinary philanthropic support for black education, as
well as for a variety of specifically Jewish charitable
causes, was predicated on the Jewish principle of self-help.
Rosenwald's greatest and most enduring philanthropic
contribution was the building of public schools for blacks in
parts of the rural South. Firmly convinced that charity would
not ameliorate black poverty, but that vocational training
and higher education could, Rosenwald passionately supported
his friend Booker T. Washington's philosophy of self-help for
blacks. At Washington's suggestion, Rosenwald decided to
finance the building of schools for blacks throughout the
South, where white authorities had refused to provide them
with school facilities.
Rosenwald financed the program on a "matching"
basis: He offered black communities a specific sum for the
construction of a small schoolhouse if its local patrons
would match it in money, materials, or labor. He insisted on
this arrangement "so that Blacks would not think of the
program as charity but would participate intimately in
funding their own education." By asking black
communities and the beneficiaries themselves to contribute,
Rosenwald stimulated local philanthropy and investment.
Compassion and almsgiving alone, cautioned Rosenwald, would
not ameliorate poverty as effectively as strategies of
communal self-help.
After a few years, Rosenwald was sufficiently pleased with
the progress of his Southern School Building Program, as it
came to be called, that in 1916 he agreed to pay one-third of
the cost of all additional schools for black children.
Between 1917 and his death in 1932, he was responsible for
the construction of 5,357 public schools serving 663,615
black children throughout the rural South. By 1932, more than
half the black population of the rural South owed their
education to Rosenwald schools.
Rosenwald's advocacy of self-help for both Jews and blacks
went hand in hand with a profound distrust of the liberal
policies and programs of the welfare state. As a staunch
Republican, he felt they fostered dependency upon government.
Prior to the New Deal, the suggestion that their poor might
look to government for public assistance, or that Jewish
charities might actively seek to become beneficiaries of
government aid would have been virtually unthinkable among
Jewish leadership circles. Yet Jewish community leaders and
social-work executives began to advocate precisely such ideas
during the 1930s and 1940s, provoking an unprecedented and
emotional debate about the community's obligation to care for
its own members.
Self-Sufficiency Undermined
The Great Depression and the New Deal presented the first
serious challenge to the principle of communal
self-sufficiency. One prominent Jewish social-work executive
characterized 1933 as the year that "the Jewish
community in the United States, for the first time in its
history, has been forced to transfer to the state primary
responsibility for relief to its dependents."
Most Jewish leaders, lay and professional, supported this
radical shift, arguing for the necessity of Jewish acceptance
of public relief and pointing with pride to the national role
that Jews were playing as "architects of the welfare
state." Isaac Max Rubinow, one of the most prominent
Jewish social-work executives of the era and an architect of
the New Deal Social Security Program, encouraged his
colleagues to abandon the tradition of Jewish
self-sufficiency as a parochial and antiquated relic. Other
Jewish social-work leaders argued that American Jews had a
"distinct obligation" to support the New Deal's
ever-expanding welfare programs and relief efforts; as one
said at the time, "The recognition that unemployment
relief is a job for the Government and [for] Washington,
rather than for private Jewish charity, is a major step
forward."
Beginning in the 1930s, the secular liberal ideals of the
Jewish social-work profession had a profound influence on
Jewish philanthropic life. Although some leaders at this time
expressed concern about public relief undermining private
Jewish philanthropy, a growing number of Jewish social
workers and community leaders repudiated the Stuyvesant
Promise and championed active Jewish participation in the
emerging welfare state. By the mid-1970s, Jewish charities
had become dependent upon government funds, with government
funding accounting for as much as 66 percent of the budgets
of several major Jewish charitable institutions.
The continuing liberal Jewish embrace of the principles
and policies of the welfare state represents a radical and
profound departure from centuries of Jewish tradition, and a
repudiation of the enduring religious and communal principles
upon which this tradition had for so long been based.
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