The Three Types of Jewish Students: (1) The "No-Jew"
WITH his problems thus put, how shall the Jewish youth face them? Shall he consider body and raiment equally, shall he put body above raiment, or shall he put raiment above body and forget the body? To put it crudely into other words, shall his ready adaptation to American University life tend to make him less of a Jew, more of a Jew, or no Jew at all, and thus tending, to repeat our original thought, wherein will it be for weakness, wherein for strength? Each Jewish student, no doubt, in varying measure, responds to all three of these tendencies; yet, insofar as the response towards one or another of these is more marked in certain individuals than in others, let us group the individuals together accordingly, and for the convenience of our discussion divide them into three separate types.
The no-Jew type is common on the campus. His presence pleases us, perhaps even flatters us. He is carefree, boyish. He makes heroes of the gridiron athletes; he delights in the comedy shows that come to town; he joins his non-Jewish friends in outdoor play in that easy laughter of theirs that bubbles over at a trifle;—and we were beginning to think the Jew had forgotten to play and laugh. We saw him after sundown once, single in a canoe, paddling across the wide unruffled lake and far where purple sky and purple water seem to commingle, and we thought we saw the primitive Indian again, the wholesome child of nature plying those waters as of old. Sail on, brave youth, we are glad to see thee still a lover of the wild, the simple, the calm; we are glad there is still in the Jew something of the wholesome child, the adventurer, the savage, shall we call it? We are almost tempted to say we are glad to have him forget his past, to sail thus away, as it were, from his troubled brethren, away across the unruffled lake where purple wave and purple cloud in peace commingle,—so long have we waited for the mind of the Jewish youth to be youthful, for the moist gleam in the eye of a sorrowful children to disappear.
"Neither Fish, Nor Flesh, Nor Fowl"
BUT not always is this drifting out of Jewish life so comely. There is another individual in this type in whom it appears very much strained. The first merges within the American tradition, the second obtrudes into it; the first unconsciously, the second painfully aware of his effort; the first because he has so much of the tradition within him, the second, we are afraid, because he has so little. The second individual is generally of more recent arrival to this country than the first; he considers his Jewishness a misfortune which must be gotten rid of. Both are, indeed, self-centred, unmindful of their people, but the first is more boyish—and a boy should be self-centred. Both put the raiment above the body, and in this there is weakness; but in the first there is not much of body, the roots of Jewish growth have found no depth or proper sap in him, and if in him there is not strength of body, there is at least grace of raiment; in the second there is neither grace nor strength,—he may acquire the superstructure of American character, but where the foundation to build it on? Where is there strength when it is ever a getting and never a giving?
Judaism weighs most heavily upon this latter individual. He will often deny his race, we regret to say, and play for the affection of members of other races. But they somehow will discover his "misfortune" and despise him all the more for hiding it. All this prejudice, he explains, is due to "those other Jews." If they would only learn modesty from the gentile,—not talk so, not walk so, and not keep hanging around the professor's desk after the lecture with all sorts of fool questions,—why then, there would be no more of "this prejudice thing" and he could devote his time to more important problems. (We half suspect those problems would be superficial ones. We would also perhaps give more heed to his urging us to modesty, if only the urging were more modest.) He may even become eloquent and tell us that the Jews do not appreciate the generosities and liberties of American life, that they ought to forget their old religious superstitions and realize that in free America we don't need any religions, for all men are brothers. (Here again we would perhaps give more heed to his sentiment for its boundless idealism, were we not afraid it was but a cover for boundless egotism.)
And which brotherly organization, which fraternity do you belong to up here? We ask, not to criticize those boyish aristocracies but rather to embarrass him, we confess, for we know he must name a Jewish fraternity or none at all. The other fraternities are indeed fraternal—but not to Jews, not even to those who would get away from Judaism. We speak without malice of this individual; we regret only that he gets so little out of the great American tradition. The raiment becomes him badly. Speaking in slang and following the baseball scores does not make an American. If he sells his birthright let it be for something more than a mess of pottage. Even if he should succeed in assimilating himself with the other races, whether it be by the accumulation of wealth or baptism or successful denial of his origin, yet we doubt whether he can become really happy—for he is neither fish nor flesh nor fowl. Again, what can he receive when he has nothing to give? And thus we must leave him, perhaps even now laughing in the company of his non-Jewish acquaintances at some caricature of the Jew presented for their entertainment—that is of one of "those other Jews"—a type for which we are sorry, a coin that is spurious and does not ring true.
The Second Type: "An American of Jewish Ancestry"
OUR second type considers body and raiment as of equal weight; he will make them as one. He will become less of a Jew and more of an American, a better American for being a Jew. Unlike the first type, he sees a little beyond himself. Americanism is good enough for him, but there are other Jews not in America, he realizes, and there are Jews within America who have not reached, perhaps never can reach, his position of comfortable participation in American life, and what of them? There may be more pressing, more important problems in the world, but who else will solve that particular one of the Jew if he doesn't? He therefore will not run away from Judaism; he will try to modify it, of course, to fit in with American progress, but, for the sake of his people, he will stay a Jew, or better an American of Jewish ancestry. This type is the son of the big-hearted givers among Israel. His father subscribes generously to charitable organizations, is a member of a Reform Temple, and owes much indeed to the opportunities of the American republic. The son, therefore, is an American patriot, and what though it seem at times overtaxed, his patriotism, unlike that of the individual under our first type, is genuine, for it is not primarily self-seeking. When he speaks of ideals, it is not to say we have no need of religions at all, but rather that we all in America have more or less the same belief only that we choose to express it differently, each according to his ancestral traditions. The three rings, says Nathan der Weise, may all be true or all be false according to the conduct of those that wear them. "But are there no peculiar values of conduct," we ask him, "bequeathed by the peculiar traditions of the Jew?" "Yes," he answers, "but those values may now be found in the cosmopolitan civilization of America." "We are getting away from peculiar things," he further adds; "we must learn to break down barriers and distinctions and work all together, not as Jews or Americans or anything else, but simply as men. Our only problem is to get the Jews treated everywhere as men." "But aside from that," we go on to ask, "isn't there a something that binds together certain groups of people that have had a common history, a common religion or any such thing in common?" "Yes," he replies, "but that something is the common intellect. The accident of birth does not make us friends; though I must help the Jew in far-off Russia, yet I am more closely identified with my Anglo-Saxon classmate. For me to co-operate with the Jew simply because he is a Jew is as logical as for me to co-operate with a man simply because he has the same shade of brown hair that I have." Words that command our thought—but yet it seems to us the speaker feels better than he knows. Why then did his heart quicken when one Friday night we passed the window of that Galician Jew, the erstwhile butt of many a jest between us, our college second-hand clothes man, and saw the flicker of his Sabbath candles? No flicker within the home of a brown-haired man would move him so. And even while he is speaking to us, though the length of our acquaintanceship is short, we detect an unwonted relaxation in his manner, a confidence that has found understanding and seeks to lay itself bare. Is it not because both of us are Jews?
Be that as it may, the words of this type are sincere. If he forgets his ancestry it is because he thinks of posterity. By blending his thoughts and aspirations with those of free and generous America, he will bequeath to his children a happier heritage than was left him by his forefathers. As for ideals, why call them Jewish rather than American; what though they originated in Judea, cannot they be distributed from America? His Zion therefore will be in Washington. The Jewish soul and the American soul will become as one. He does not deny the soul, then—the raiment has not been put above the body, the flesh above the spirit; and the adaptation of this type to the American environment can therefore make for strength, for a better humanity.