Intolerance in Russia

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Dec 12, 1912

Intolerance in Russia

THE freedom of conscience which prevails in Russia seems to be the medieval variety, which permits the expulsion of a Russian for purely religious reasons. A case which may be a sample of many others is reported in the New York Times of November 24. Leon Bakst, “one of the leading painters of Russia,” was recently expelled from that country for the sole reason that he is a Jew. We quote his account of the affair as given to a Times correspondent:—

“I am still dazed by my experiences. It is almost impossible for me to realize my present situation, for despite reports to the contrary, I am simply debarred from reentering St. Petersburg. My passport bears the stamp of the Russian police ordering me to leave the city in twenty-four hours; and even if I were able to reach the capital without mishap, no hotel would dream of receiving me under its roof, and any one of my friends who was found harboring me would be convicted of a penal offense.”

“Although I have served as the court painter; although I have had four grand dukes among my pupils; although I was commissioned by the Grand Duke Alexis, while he was commander-in-chief of the Russian navy, to paint the portrait of Admiral Avelan in commemoration of the signing of the Franco-Russian Treaty; although the national museums in St. Petersburg and Moscow have officially recognized me as a Russian painter by acquiring a number of my works; although I was not only born in St. Petersburg, but am a member of old St. Petersburg society, the Russian police coolly informed me that I was only a Jew, and as such had no right to remain in St. Petersburg.

“When I received the official notice commanding me to quit the city as an undesirable, I refused to believe it, and instantly hurried to the office of the chief of police to demand an explanation, believing there was some mistake.

“But St. Petersburg is my home,’ I said to the official who received me and confirmed the paper I had received. ‘Where do you want me to go?’

“‘You are a Jew,’ he replied, ‘and as such have no right to reside anywhere in Russia but within the pale,’

“I asked to be given a passport for foreign travel to enable me to leave Russia. This I was refused. I then asked for an interview with the chief of police, who finally condescended to extend my stay in St. Petersburg seventy-two hours, giving me opportunity to see my friends.

“I did not intend to ask help from the grand dukes, not wishing to be merely tolerated on account of influential patrons, and so I went to Count Tolstoi, director of the famous Hermitage Museum, with whom I did some work at one time, and told him the situation.

“He at once rushed off to see M. Sazonoff, the foreign minister.

“‘Impossible,’ exclaimed the latter, ‘they will make us the laughing-stock of Europe,’ and he in his turn hurried off to see the minister of the interior.

“As a result of this visit, I was notified by the police that I might remain in St. Petersburg for the time being. This, of course, does not give me the right to return.

“I pointed out to the police official whom I had seen first, that should the news of my expulsion leak out, Russia would find itself in a ridiculous position in the eyes of the whole civilized world.

“‘I dare say,’ he answered, ‘but you are a Jew, and you have got to take the consequences.’

“Though I was not too rudely treated, I was given clearly to understand that I was no better than any ordinary criminal character, despite the fact that the art world everywhere recognized me as a representative Russian artist.

“Diaghileff, with whom I am associated in the Russian ballet productions, and who went to see the St. Petersburg chief of police on my behalf, was told that officially I was down on the police books only as a Jew, and that no matter what I might be as an artist, to him I was only a subject of the czar who, according to existing laws, had no right to reside in St. Petersburg.

“Now, for the real reason why I have only recently become an undesirable citizen in the eyes of the Russian police. In 1903 I became an Orthodox Christian in order to marry a lady who was a member of the Greek Church. Without nominally changing my creed, it would have been impossible to do this, as the law at that time prohibited any alliance between Orthodox Christians and members of any other denomination.

“Two years later, however, the law allowing freedom of conscience to Russian citizens was promulgated, and I decided to end the religious masquerade I had been forced to play, and therefore became a Jew once more.

“I am not so very indignant over it all. My sense of humor makes the matter appear to me personally in the form of a huge farce, but I am sorry my country should still allow the existence of laws absolutely incompatible with civilization.”

It is easy to see that difficulties and perils must attend our own work in a country where such conditions prevail.