Binyamin Ze'ev (Theodor) Herzl

I will take you from among the nations and gather you in from all the lands, and I will bring you to your own soil. Then I will sprinkle pure water upon you, that you may become cleansed; I will cleanse you from all your contamination and from all your idols. I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit within you; I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh. I will put my spirit within you, and I will make it so that you will follow My decrees and My ordinances and fulfill them. You will dwell in the Land that I gave to your forefathers; you will be a people to Me, and I will be a G-D to you. (YEHEZKEL 36:24-28)

During a long and bitter exile the ancient Hebrews had developed hearts of stone. Each man was separate from his brother. The Jews of France saw themselves as French as the Jews in Germany wished to be full Germans. Even among many “Orthodox” rabbis following the Enlightenment, the concept of Israeli nationhood was a distant idea not relevant to their current reality. Rabbi Yehuda Chai Alkalai had retained a heart of flesh, never feeling disconnected from the concepts of Hebrew nationhood or collective destiny. He saw the Damascus Blood Libels as the great shofar coming to awaken his people from their exilic slumber. He warned that Israel had one hundred years from 5600 (1840) to create a political movement aimed at uniting the Hebrew nation securely in its homeland. “Otherwise,” he cautioned “there would come a king worse than Haman to devastate us in our exile”. Rabbi Alkalai further taught that the man who leads this political endeavor will be the Mashiach ben Yosef, forerunner to the final champion, Mashiach ben David. Rabbi Alkalai explained that the Messianic effort is initially a human effort and not brought about through open miracles from Above.

Shimon Lev, a student of Rabbi Alkalai, had a successful merchant son who Germanized his family name to Herzl. And in 5620 (1860), this assimilated son in turn had a son. The child, born in Budapest, was named Binyamin Ze’ev (Theodor). He was raised to appreciate European culture and was educated in the spirit of that period’s German­ Jewish Enlightenment. In 5638 (1878), the family moved to Vienna where Binyamin Ze’ev Herzl attended university and was awarded a doctorate in 5644 (1884). He became a playwright and journalist, earning himself the position of Paris correspondent for the influential liberal Vienna newspaper Neue Freie Presse.

Herzl first encountered anti-Semitism while studying at the University of Vienna. This experience had a profound effect on him and would greatly influence the direction his life would later take. He was deeply pained by the plight of his people and searched anxiously for a genuine cure that would end Jewish suffering. What he initially advocated was mass conversion to Christianity. At the time, he regarded the Jewish problem as a social issue and wrote a drama, The Ghetto, in which assimilation and conversion were explored as answers to Jew hatred in European society. Herzl hoped that The Ghetto would lead to a healthy debate based on mutual tolerance between Christians and Jews and perhaps lead to a solution.

Herzl’s attitude was changed one fateful day in 5654 (1894). Captain Alfred Dreyfus, a Jewish officer in the French military, was falsely accused of treason by his government. While covering the story for Neue Freie Presse, Herzl heard shouts of “death to the Jews!” emanating from the crowd. That this could occur in an open-minded country like France alarmed Herzl to his core. He then resolved that there was only one solution for the suffering of his people – mass emigration to a land that the Hebrew nation could call its own. Thus, the Dreyfus Affair became a determinant in the genesis of Political Zionism.

1,759 years earlier, Bar Kochba’s fortress Betar had fallen to the legions of Rome. During bitter years of occupation, the Israelis attempted time and again to win their freedom from their Roman oppressors. After the fall of Betar, the last in a series of unsuccessful revolts that resulted in the destruction of Israel’s national framework, the rabbis decided enough blood had been shed. Seeing that the Romans had ultimately crushed them after every insurrection, they took measures to prevent the Hebrews from engaging in further insurgencies. In the Midrash Agadah, Shir HaShirim Rabbah, three oaths appear where Israel are sworn to not revolt against the nations, force the Redemption from exile or immigrate en mass to the Land of Israel. An additional oath was added that the gentile nations would not persecute Israel too much. The classic interpretation over the centuries has been that this last oath belongs to the gentiles – that they would not exceed the appropriate maltreatment of Israel in the exile. But what then is the actual definition of too much? Is it one Jewish child being called a name on his way home from school? Is it the desecration of a Jewish cemetery or Synagogue? Is it six million being systematically butchered? Too much is an incredibly vague term without clear definition. An alternate understanding would make the last oath Israel’s as well.

For example, Moshe saw one Egyptian striking one Israeli. Moshe did not hear the voice of HaShem telling him to kill the Egyptian. In fact, had Moshe been at all familiar with the history of his nation, he would have known that Israel was meant to be enslaved for a specific number of years which had not yet come to pass. But Moshe reacted to what he saw by slaying the Egyptian and burying him in the sand. The Maharal of Prague teaches that Moshe took off his royal Egyptian robe at this point and donned the robe of splendor. Moshe could have rationalized the situation by telling himself that he would one day be Pharaoh and then could quietly set the Hebrews free. Until then, he might as well keep a low profile on issues concerning the slaves. But Moshe was not a political opportunist, even one with the best of intensions. One Israeli being beaten by one Egyptian was too much for Moshe to bear. And at that point he had to revolt against Egypt. He had to force the Redemption and bring Israel on mass aliya. And then, when it became clear how sensitive Moshe was to the pain of his people, G-D deemed that he was worthy of national leadership.

Binyamin Ze’ev Herzl, an assimilated Jew, advocated a mass conversion to Christianity as the solution to Jewish suffering. But when, as a journalist, he witnessed the Dreyfus Affair, and the ferocious reaction of the French toward the Jews, this was too much for Herzl. His heart awoke abruptly and began to genuinely feel. It was no longer stone but suddenly a heart of flesh. He then wrote The Jewish State with the stated objective of solving the problem of the Jewish people by uniting them as a nation on their native soil.

Too much, therefore is not an additional oath for the gentiles to adhere. It would be ludicrous to assume that one could show Adolph Hitler or Joseph Stalin the Midrash in hopes that they would live up to their side of the agreement. Too much is meant for Israel and depends on the truth of a person’s soul. How much compassion and sensitivity one possesses will determine what one considers too much. And when one feels that something is too much to bear, his soul forces him to revolt. He must then rise up against the nations, struggle to force the Redemption and make aliya to Eretz Yisrael. For an extraordinarily healthy soul, too much might be being called a derogatory name. For an extremely unhealthy soul, six million dead might not yet be too much (had the Holocaust been too much for American Jewry they certainly would have made aliya directly following this catastrophe and the State of Israel’s establishment). What each individual considers too much is a reflection of the sensitivity in that person’s heart. “Death to the Jews!” was too much for Herzl and thus The Jewish State was born.

Binyamin Ze’ev  Herzl, an assimilated Jew, witnessed his brother’s suffering and internalized the shame. He then came back to himself and sought to gather his estranged brothers in order to unite them on their soil. From this point onward, Herzl will feel a sense of joy for finally returning to himself after years of separation from his people.

After writing The Jewish State, Herzl was approached by a man who would become his diplomatic connection to leaders throughout the world. Reverend William Hechler, chaplain to the British Embassy in Vienna, met with Herzl in 5656 (1896) and presented him with a book he had written entitled The Restoration of the Jews to Palestine. The fact that a Christian wrote a book about returning Israel to its borders greatly intrigued Herzl and encouraged him to embark on political activities in efforts to fulfill his vision. Through the Duke von Baden, Hechler arranged an audience for Herzl with the German Kaiser Wilhelm II in hopes that he would help convince the Sultan of Turkey (who at the time ruled Palestine) to permit a large influx of Jewish immigration.

Herzl understood that the Turks were more interested in money than anything else. The Ottoman Empire was suffering from colossal debt and would look positively on his request if it could assist the empire’s economy. Herzl felt that the Jewish bankers of Europe should offer generous loans to Turkey in exchange for a national charter.

Initially, Herzl approached Baron de Hirsch, who, having already supported the resettlement of Russian Jews in Argentina, was a natural prospect. The banker consented to see him, but the meeting bore no fruit. Such frustration in fundraising was to thwart Herzl again and again. His personal diary describes how ill at ease he felt in the presence of wealthy people, something that went unnoticed, never divulged during his life. But the dream of a Hebrew state demanded that he attain financial backing. To reach the famous Rothschild family, Herzl sought first Albert, head of the Vienna branch. He asked a physician friend close to Albert Rothschild to help arrange a meeting. But when Herzl described the vision he had in mind, the physician deemed this a symptom of mental stress. Presenting such a plan to the Rothschilds was out of the question, and he recommended rest and psychiatric consultation for Herzl. It so happened that Herzl and Sigmund Freud lived on the same street then and passed each other frequently, but psychiatry was not on Herzl’s agenda. Undaunted, he traveled to London to approach Lord Rothschild and other wealthy bankers. But there he met with the same disappointments as before. Even his encounter with England’s chief rabbi was discouraging.

The French Baron Edmond de Rothschild was the world’s most generous supporter of agricultural settlements in Palestine, but he too rejected Herzl, referring to him as “a dangerous adventurer”. Herzl had the motivation and political contacts to achieve his vision but lacked economic support. His experience with the bankers brought him to the realization that the Jewish question had to be taken away from the benevolent individual and must be put in the hands of the Hebrew masses.

Herzl knew he had to influence Jewish communities from the bottom up and he was received as a great hero by the working class throughout Europe. Although philanthropists and the press disregarded him, the masses were excited by his revolutionary vision. They honored him as a sort of messianic redeemer, which caused him much embarrassment but strengthened his convictions. Unfortunately, the lower class Jews had no influence or unified voice. Herzl sought to unify the masses by organizing a World Zionist Congress that would give them a collective voice and political weight. He announced this initiative as a form of world Jewish parliament, the first of which would be a three-day event to be held in Munich in the summer of 5657 (1897). This announcement, much to Herzl’s surprise, raised a storm of protest from influential groups. Secular Jewish leaders, for instance, felt that such public discussions were bound to generate anti-Semitism, undermining the patriotism many tried to express for their host country. Rabbinical groups resented what they interpreted as messianic aspirations, and Jewish newspapers predicted that the unrealistic talk of Israeli statehood would make the congress an object of ridicule. The Rabbinical Council of Germany, Orthodox and Reform, issued a vitriolic protest against Herzl’s congress, calling it an affront to Judaism. The Jewish community of Munich withdrew its earlier invitation and the First Zionist Congress had to be moved to a less hostile location, the smaller community of Basel in Switzerland.

Close to 200 people attended the First Zionist Congress from all over Europe, including many from the east previously unknown to Herzl. The assembly was opened with the words “Blessed are You, HaShem our G-D, King of the Universe, Who gave us life and sustained us and brought us to this time”. After this Hebrew blessing, the language of the proceedings and minutes was German. Some speakers from further east tried to re-make their Yiddish to sound like German, and the resultant dialect came to be called “Kongress-deutsch”. Cohen Bernstein, an elderly delegate said at the end of the congress that “the heart of our people and the heart of our leader have joined together in an eternal bond”. After the congress, Herzl recorded in his diary that “today I created a state in Basel, whether in five or in fifty years”. In his newspaper, Die Welt, he summarized the congress by writing that “brothers have found each other again”.

A man discovered him, and behold! – he was blundering in the field; the man asked him, saying, “What do you seek?” And he said, “My brothers do I seek; tell me, please, where they are pasturing.” (BEREISHIT 37:15-16)

Yaakov had two wives, Leah and Rachel. Leah bore many sons but Rachel was barren. When G-D had benevolence on her and opened her womb, she gave birth to a son and named him “Yosef” saying asaf Elokim et cherpati – “G-D has taken away my disgrace”. Rachel had a personal disgrace that she was barren. And the prophet Yirmiyahu relates that she also experienced a national disgrace – that her children would one day be exiled from their soil.

Thus said HaShem: A voice is heard on high, wailing, bitter weeping, Rachel weeps for her children; she refuses to be consoled for her children, for they are gone. Thus said HaShem: Restrain your voice from weeping and your eyes from tears; for there is reward for your accomplishments – the word of HaShem – and they will return from the enemy’s land. There is hope for your future – the word of HaShem – and your children will return to their borders. (YIRMIYAHU 31:14-16)

Herzl strove tirelessly to return the children of Israel to their borders. Like Yosef, he was alienated from his people and sought out his brothers in an effort to reunite. His statement, “brothers have found each other again”, was the essence of the First Zionist Congress. It characterized the vision of unity and collective responsibility expressed by Herzlian Zionism, which would be diluted in years to come after Herzl’s death. Like Yosef, Herzl was not recognized by the most prominent of his brothers. Jewish bankers, journalists and rabbis fought against his efforts, creating great controversy. In addition to external opposition, Herzl began to face antagonism within the Zionist Movement as well. Asher Ginsberg, better known by his pen name Ahad Ha’am, wrote after the congress that “we have destroyed more than we have built. Who knows whether this was not the last sigh of a dying people?” The First Zionist Congress was a tremendous success but Ahad Ha’am argued that all Herzl achieved was the arousal of false hopes destined to end in terrible disappointment. After all, Herzl had no money behind him, nor any firm political agreements pertaining to a national charter for Palestine.

Ahad Ha’am saw a different national need. Unlike Herzl, he did not view the role of Zionism as the creation of a Jewish state. Nor did he see the Movement as a means to physically save the Jewish people from gentile oppression. Each individual was responsible to save himself. Some would go to America. Others would migrate elsewhere. The role of the Zionist Movement, according to Ahad Ha’am, was to establish a cultural center in the Land of Israel that would radiate its spirit to the Diaspora communities and grant a stronger identity to Jews everywhere. He wanted an elite group of Jewish intellectuals to create communities in Palestine, a Hebrew University and other spiritual institutions. The Rothschilds were interested in financing such a project but were cautious to be involved in Herzl’s revolutionary dreams of nation building. Although the opinions of Ahad Ha’am were marginal at the First Zionist Congress, his ideas spread and usurped the Movement in the years after Herzl’s death.

It is largely unknown that at the First Zionist Congress, Herzl stated that “Zionism, before being a return to the Land is a return to Judaism”. He later recalled that two years before the congress, the Chief Rabbi of Vienna had visited his home. The rabbi had made a big deal about an x-mass tree in the living room, which had been customary for the assimilated family. At the time Herzl could not understand why the rabbi had such strong hostility towards the tree. But after the congress such issues began to clarify for the visionary.

After recalling this story, Herzl wrote The Menorah. According to Herzl, the menorah would be lit one light at a time. The first light would be lit by the Hebrew youth in the direst of need. The poor Jews would be taught the story of the Maccabees and given a new sense of dignity and national aspirations. For each subsequent candle, young people more fortunate would step forward to be lit. Herzl viewed the role of the Zionist Movement as being the shamash that would spread this light from Jew to Jew until a revolution took place in the mentality of the Hebrew youth.

 The Ohr Samayach, Rabbi Meir Simcha of Dvinsk, teaches in the Meshech Chochmah on Nitzavim that tshuva begins, not necessarily with a return to Torah observance, but when a person once again views himself as part of Am Yisrael. After centuries in the exile, Jews will suddenly desire to possess their own country and to share a collective cultural identity. This early stage of tshuva is a feeling of nationalism and unity with Jews everywhere. The Ohr Samayach further teaches that when Israel returns to a feeling of nationalism, they will certainly return to the precepts of Torah. Nationalism, he explains, is the first stage of tshuva eventually leading to ritual observance in all fields. The early stages of returning to national consciousness are part of a Divine historical process that even those participating in might be unaware.

Herzl never became a ritually observant man but his encounters with rabbis like Shmuel Mohliver and Marcus Ehrenpreis had a profound affect on his worldview. He would often express that there was something in the Torah that he wished to be more apart of. And perhaps had he lived longer, he would have returned to the precepts of HaShem’s Covenant with Israel.

When visiting the Land of Israel, Herzl commented that the settlement of Rehovot was superior to that of Zikhron Yaakov because Rehovot was self sufficient and working on credits while Zikhon Yaakov was supported financially by the Rothschilds. Herzl was against communities surviving through charity and sought to promote self sufficiency among the settlements. Even when he had sought out assistance from Jewish bankers, it had not been for the purpose of hand-outs but to establish a Zionist bank that would run on a system of credits. He also had hoped that the bankers would grant Turkey loans, easing their national debt in exchange for their benevolence to the Zionist cause. But the bankers were uninterested in Herzl’s vision and the Turks refused to permit mass Hebrew immigration or concede a national charter.

After witnessing the terrible Kishinev Pogrom of 5663 (1903), Herzl experienced a renewed sense of urgency for the plight of his people. He met with Plevye, the Russian Minister of Interior responsible for the pogrom, in order to seek out a mutually beneficial agreement. Herzl strongly believed there to be a point of common interest between himself and the Russian anti-Semite. Plevye desired a Russia without Jews and Herzl wanted to bring his people home to their borders. He attempted to convince the Russian minister to persuade the Turks to grant a charter. After this bore no fruit, Herzl was approached by the British and offered Uganda as a national home. This created a bitter dispute between Herzl and the Zionists he respected the most – the Russian Zionists. Even though Herzl was willing to accept the idea of Uganda only as a night shelter for his persecuted brethren, it was the Zionists of Russia – who needed such a shelter the most at the time – who rejected the Uganda Program and fought against it intensely. The debate nearly caused a split in the Zionist Movement and the Uganda Program was defeated at the Seventh Zionist Congress one year after Herzl’s death.

For the last ten years of his life, Herzl suffered from a difficult heart condition. At the age of 44, he died of pneumonia after only seven years of Zionist activity. He called these years “the Shabbat of my life”. Eretz Yisrael’s Chief Rabbi Avraham Yitzhak HaKohen Kook would later say that Herzl “had sparks of Mashiach ben Yosef”.

Herzl died penniless. All of his wealth had been spent on his vision. David Wolffsohn, who succeeded Herzl as president of the World Zionist Organization, took responsibility to care for his predecessor’s children. But the legacy of Herzl’s dream of Hebrew statehood would be carried forward by men like Max Nordau and Ze’ev Jabotinsky. Each would find himself increasingly marginalized as evolutionary, rather than revolutionary leaders began to dominate the Zionist Movement. The urgency that had impassioned Herzl to find a solution for his nation dissipated as years passed and the pragmatic students of Ahad Ha’am would cause Zionism to experience a period of slow motion during European Jewry’s most critical years.

Herzlian Zionism was in its essence a national heart transplant. It was the replacement of the heart of stone with a heart of flesh – one that feels for its nation and wishes to unite. The idea of once again feeling apart of the Israeli nation, sharing in its joys and tragedies, and taking responsibility for its future was at the base of Herzl’s revolutionary vision. When one Jew genuinely cares for another – when the heart is no longer numb – he automatically yearns to reunite with his nation in the Land of Israel.

For nearly two centuries, the Torah has often been taught with a stone heart as a set of dry rituals and abstract discussions. Devoid of idealism, the compassionate foundation of Israel has been diluted. The role of Zionism is to correct the heart. Once the heart has been cured, the Torah regains its foundation and begins to once again encompass its true full significance. The caring for another Jew – “love your fellow as yourself” – has forever been the base of Israel’s national life. It was this lack of compassion that caused the destruction of G-D’s Temple and Israel’s exile from our borders. The very foundation of Torah is the love for another Jew and the feeling of responsibility towards Israel’s collective destiny. Therefore, Herzlian Zionism came into this world as the base on which we must realign our Torah to its pre-Enlightenment splendor, in order to shine G-D’s Truth to mankind from Jerusalem.

For from Zion will the Torah come forth, and the word of HaShem from Jerusalem (YISHAYAHU 2:3)