Bundism Today, Part 1: Bundist Organizing Principles

Ed. note: This is the first part in a series by Zach Smerin — a member of the International Jewish Labor Bund’s Provisional Steering Committee — which Der Spekter will continue to publish in the coming months. Click here for the introduction to the series.

Every political organisation seeking to make a difference to the status quo has to confront some basic organising questions. The work that goes into answering them is often not particularly glamorous or exciting; often, the exact opposite is true. Much of it may remain unseen, even by many in the organisation. Getting this work done, especially in a purely volunteer environment, may present significant challenges. However, in the same way that a house built on a sound foundation will be stronger than one that isn’t, organisations that sort out some basic affairs in the early stages will be able to reap rewards down the line. For an effort that is as transnational and carries as much historical legacy and present urgency as the Bund, this may be truer than for any other organisation.

A Positive Vision

Without structures, without finances, without support, Bundists may feel unsure as to where to start beyond simple ideas. Even at this stage, an important decision can be made — whether to primarily base our vision on what we oppose or on what we support. In our flawed world, the former can come to us rather easily. Whether it be income inequality, institutional racism or the colossal oppression of the Palestinians, to say that you are opposed to any of these injustices should not be a particularly challenging intellectual exercise. 

However, activism that unites people in opposition to something will always run up against several problems. Firstly, individuals can oppose policies for vastly different reasons — ignoring these problems simply kicks the can down the road. A Marxist and a fascist may both say that the liberal capitalist elite must be overthrown, but does that mean that they should work together when their ultimate goals are so at odds?

Secondly, without a plan to replace the status quo, when an opportune situation arises, a movement can find itself paralysed, unsure of the next step. I also believe that arguing for positive change can inspire more people to imagine a hopeful future, rather than simply resisting against the world becoming an even worse place, which relies on people’s fears of an imminent dystopian future.

This doesn’t mean that defensive anger in opposition to a concrete event or policy cannot be a useful political tool in certain situations — especially for those of us who suffer in particular from certain forms of oppression. It just shouldn’t be the primary driving force for an effective organization. The world is bad enough as it is, and we can’t rely on it simply not getting worse. Nor should the lack of concrete solutions necessarily be taken as a fault of a movement. Much of that will depend on its size, strength, age or connectedness. We could imagine something of a linear progression from basic slogans one might chant at demonstrations, to general demands included in a movement’s declaration of principles or manifesto. As a movement grows in power within specific local contexts, it may adapt those demands into specific policy proposals. If implemented on a smaller scale, they may ultimately inspire transformational institutional change.

In the context of the Bund, given the moment we find ourselves in, the principle of constructive organising is particularly important. While the Bund historically declared itself anti-Zionist and fought all the various Zionist movements, sometimes with vicious ferocity, the Bund’s reason for existence never was to oppose Zionism. Nor was it to oppose the Czarist autocracy or capitalism as a whole. It viewed itself as a movement with its own positive vision, one of socialism, collective liberation, and national cultural autonomy. In this framework, Bundism was anti-Zionism only inasmuch as Zionism was anti-Bundism.

Making a difference

Having good ideas about changing the world is one thing; putting them into practice is another. Thinking in global, national — even municipal — terms can immediately overwhelm any new group with a feeling of an impossibly heavy burden. This disempowering sensation can be counteracted by prioritising the active completion of projects, no matter how small their initial scope. Small victories can inspire larger ones, and we need to believe that our work can actually make a difference. If even people who are in theory convinced that a movement should be active are not motivated to organise, how can a movement hope to inspire those who are not yet convinced of our ideals?

The Bund’s origins, to a large extent, lay in the Kassy — mutual aid funds established by Jewish workers in the dire conditions of the belatedly industrialising Russian Empire. In the near total absence of a welfare state, such organisations were able to make an immediate difference to the lives of those who participated in them while being connected to ongoing work towards the more distant socialist mission. In interwar Poland, where the Bund no longer needed to operate in a clandestine manner, an entire social and political world of connected organisations was created. Where they saw the need, Bundists established libraries, soup kitchens, cultural groups, Yiddishist schools, self-defence groups, publications, sports organisations, cooperatives, and others, including most famously the Medem Sanatorium for children at risk of tuberculosis. 

Importantly, while there inevitably existed a certain degree of favouritism in regard to access, Bundists did not organise these institutions on a transactional basis. The Bund did not want to simply maintain its own organisation as a milieu; it wanted to fight for the hearts and minds of its primary constituency: the working people, who represented then, as they do now, the majority of the Jewish community. In the words of one of the interwar leaders of the Bund, Henryk Erlich:

"Throughout its entire history, the Bund has had in mind the interests of the Jewish people defined as such. When the Bund, as a part of the revolutionary movement in Lithuania, Poland, and Russia, carried out its fight for freedom, for full national rights, for Socialism; when its armed squads fought against the tsarist pogromchiks; when during the Beilis trial, it called for the broader Jewish masses to actively protest – it did so not just in the interests of the Jewish proletariat in the narrow sense of the word.

And today, when the Bund organizes the Jewish workers, employees, craftsmen, peasants, and the working intellectuals to fight for their economic, political, and national rights; when full of stubbornness and despite the most difficult obstacles, it has built a far-reaching network of Yiddish-language secular school systems; when in today’s most bitter time, it organizes systematic, ongoing, one of a kind in the Jewish society, giant cultural activities among the Jewish masses; when it mobilizes the same masses to fight, to revolt for their rights (March 17, 1936, October 10th, 1937); when it therefore takes measures to ensure that the Jewish masses would not be left defenseless against the Fascist elements, which threaten their very physical existence – when the Bund does all of this, the Bund does not do it just for the Jewish factory and sweatshop workers, but for the entire, vast suffering Jewish masses, for all whom we call the Jewish people."

But how do we reach such a broader constituency, especially in our early stages of organising? 

First of all, it is absolutely crucial to avoid a cultish binary mentality of believing that everyone who is not with us is against us — that any contact with the outside is polluting the “purity” of our group. No — influence spreads in strata, from those who are diehard Bundists to those who would like to see us dead. For our core constituency — the Jewish working people — an improved reputation of the Bund that doesn’t compromise on Bundist values should be seen as a positive. Even if for many that means going from “actively despising us” to “agreeing with us on a few things.”

It is true that, like every movement, we can create our own media. Whether through older or newer forms, we can get some people to join in simply by letting them know of our existence. Some may be convinced by our local practical organising efforts and activities. But there will also be those who perhaps like some of our arguments but who (currently) can’t imagine joining the Bund. Navigating our relationship with such a section of our potential constituency is not simply going to be a question of resources; it’s also going to be a matter of adopting an appropriate and effective mindset.

In di gasn, tsu di masn

“In the streets, to the masses” is an old slogan associated with the Bund. In many ways, this song lyric from over a hundred years ago encapsulates so much inspiring history that it is worth quoting from Yiddish directly.

The ‘Jewish street’ as epitomising Jewish life and community, as opposed to the centrality of synagogues, is a particularly interesting concept to me, which I will return to in a future essay on Doikayt. For now, I will just focus on the latter.

What even are the “Jewish masses”? This idea should get every Bundist thinking. Is it simply a question of numbers? The notion of what constitutes a large Jewish community is often extremely subjective, relativised, and dependent on non-numerical factors, such as the institutional strength and vibrancy of local communities. If the issue of visibility is relevant, do frum Jews constitute more of a “mass”? The concept itself is usually connected to a class dynamic. While traditional understandings of the working masses have become a bit more flexible — think of the idea of the 99% or the “Global South” — it’s not as common to think of this in a Jewish context.

Let’s leave aside the invisibilisation of Jewish workers and socioeconomic struggles for now. Even if not as common in contemporary usage, the aim of “reaching out to the masses” can be understood by Bundists as treating the majority of the Jewish people as our core constituency, in whose interests we aim to organise (the next essay will go into more detail on how this approach is non-nationalistic). Furthermore, it also signals that we wish to convince people from this constituency that our political cause is just and that they should join our movement.

Is this ambitious in the context of Jewish diaspora politics in 2025? Without a doubt. Is it worth trying? Absolutely. There is no solace in perpetual ostracisation, in being perceived by the majority of our community as self-hating freaks. There is no glory in moral self-satisfaction when the planet is burning and fascism is at our doors. We simply cannot wait until all Jewish workers, presumably miraculously enlightened by HaShem, come over to the Bund. This will never happen, and certainly not in time. In order to undertake transformative justice, we must have the support of the people. Quoting again from Erlich’s article, in the interwar period,

"[The Bund’s] true ambition, just like the ambition of every vital socialist party, is to be the flag-bearer and the fighter for the broadest Jewish masses, i.e. for the large majority of the Jewish people, which we identify with the Jewish people as a whole. As for the small minority of Jews, who live off abuse and are ready to associate Jewish interests with the interests of their own wallets — we renounce them without any qualms."

Just as the Bund achieved this level of popular support in Poland in the late 1930s through years of hard work, so must we aim to achieve the same. Particularly in smaller Jewish communities (though not exclusively) suffering from cultural poverty, Bundists organising concerts, seminars, libraries, and cooking classes can build the movement on a grounded basis. In doing so, the Bund will develop positive diasporist yiddishkayt that undermines the mainstream Zionist de facto uncritical identification of vibrant Jewishness with the State of Israel. It can work towards the rebirth of the Jewish labor movement, and build an active, autonomous Jewish presence in housing, cooperative, urbanist, environmental, feminist, anti-colonial and other movements. As it did historically, it can also show that the only way towards defeating antisemitism is active safety through solidarity. Following this path, we can break out of tired reformist/revolutionary ideological dichotomies on the left. More importantly, we can reach people who otherwise won’t be reached.

Does this mean that we have to welcome people whose values, visions and actions fundamentally oppose those of our movement? Certainly not. Nor should individual Bundists be forced to go into viciously hostile political environments, which mainstream Jewish communal spaces frequently are. What an outgoing approach to the masses does mean, however, is that we are not afraid of the outside, of leaving our ideological bunker. 

It means understanding why people disagree with us and coming up with strategies to change people’s minds — not just consolidating those who have come to the right conclusions on their own, frequently by sheer circumstance, or years of rigorous study that most people can’t undertake. It means refusing a puritanical hyperfixation on labels that often mean dramatically different things to different people, who have dramatically different levels of political education and engagement. Instead, we can try and understand their values: why are they stuck in the status quo? What are their concerns? Are they stuck in an echo chamber? Can we provide them with answers and solutions that nobody else can? Can they be reasoned with, or should we simply treat them as too far gone?

If Bundists are known in local Jewish communities as radicals hated by the establishment, but respected for their strength and inspiring in their message by a significant part of the general Jewish population, we will be in a fantastic position. This will allow us to position ourselves as a fresh new force for change that is desperately needed, but it will only work if we are perceived as patient and welcoming to those who haven’t heard of our existence or approach beforehand. An organisation that demands immediate agreement before any engagement will come across to most as insecure and isolationist. And once people do come over to our side — even those who may have held odious values in the past and acted on them in some capacity — the principle of restorative justice cannot be forgotten when doing so would be convenient.

Physical Spaces

So, a positive vision that aims to make a practical difference, which we are able to confidently present to those who currently disagree with us, with the belief that a majority of the Jewish community can be brought to our side. So far, so good. How do we go about actually organising in a local context?

When reading the interwar memoirs of Bernard Goldstein, a key organiser of the interwar Warsaw Bund, one chapter stands out to me. In chapter 78, Goldstein lists where various different Bund organisations were located — the Central Committee met here; the Folkscajtung newspaper was published here; the Morgnsztern sports organisation was located here; and so on. Reading this the first time was particularly inspiring, but also surprising — how could a relatively small Jewish revolutionary socialist movement afford to pay rent for all of these locations? And yet they did. In comparison, the situation today in a city like London — with its large Jewish population and over a dozen different Jewish non-Zionist organisations and collectives, yet no physical space of its own — appears grim.

Even in an age of global online instant communication, the importance of physical spaces for cultural, communal and political organising remains adamant. In fact, given the high levels of societal alienation caused by the internet and urban design, they may be even more important than in the past. A physical space offers you a place to organise meetings whenever you want. It provides a convenient location to store your documentation and banners, rather than at someone’s house who might not show up at the next demonstration. If you are able to decorate it, it can provide a small refuge from the outside world. Conversely, if open to outsiders on a regular basis — even if only for events — it can project a confident and welcoming aura.

Of course, physical spaces need money and other resources to maintain. There are many different ways to raise funds: grants, outside donations, “benefit” events. Historically, some socialists robbed banks…the best way, in my opinion, is to use membership fees. That means the movement is ultimately accountable to itself and stresses the need to broaden membership. You can afford some things with ten members paying reasonable dues, but not much more than the bare necessities. Concentrating around a goal of securing such a space also forces local Bundist groups to be grounded and financially responsible. No matter how you might fall politically within the Bund, once money is in question, paperwork needs to be in order. 

I can understand criticism of the focus on physical spaces. There are clear difficulties with such an approach, but they should be treated as obstacles to be overcome, not as insurmountable challenges. 

Yes, much organising can theoretically happen online. That doesn’t mean that it necessarily should. Especially when it’s not dictated by disability or logistical requirements, in which case necessary accommodations can be made, such as hybrid meetings.

Yes, setting up the first local physical space will be challenging for those who, through no fault of their own, can’t make use of it on a regular basis. But an organisation possessing its own physical space benefits all of its members and could be the stepping stone towards establishing additional, more accessible spaces across the organising area/region.

Physical spaces come in all shapes and sizes — cafes, offices, apartments, community centres, shacks. I can’t attempt to draw some all-encompassing universal mantra on what works best. Presumably, they should be relatively easy to get to (perhaps near the city centre, Jewish district, or a transit hub) and be accessible to those with disabilities. Having regular open hours or events largely depends on the capacity of local Bundists, though generally, the more the merrier might be the way to go. Goldstein’s description of Warsaw’s 9 Przejazd Street as being full of life, with the soup kitchen set up in the morning, the Central Committee convening in the afternoon, and all sorts of meetings happening in between, paints a picture of a movement that is alive and filled with purpose.

The good news is, no local group has to approach this alone. Especially in the beginning, having our own spaces does not mean needing exclusively Bundist spaces. Labor unions and other political movements may already have their own spaces that they can share or are on the lookout for finding them. Anyone who partook in the Palestine solidarity encampments knows how much they did to foster a sense of solidarity and community — having your own space where you can always come in helps with that immensely. And while the encampments were obviously not able to last forever, recognising the value of such spaces could present Bundists with new practical opportunities.

A Global Pluralist Movement

Until this point, I have only looked at how the Bund and local Bund chapters handle their differences with the outside world. However, to pretend that important differences will not arise within what is to be a global movement would be foolish. We need to prepare how to handle our differences in ways that don’t sweep them under the rug or risk destructive splits we can ill afford.

Especially in our early organising phase, we are mostly united by our desire to see a Bund rebuilt as an international organisation. Rather than solely by the (limited) work we are already doing, people are joining us from all different walks of life. We have veteran organisers with over 20 years of experience and political newbies. We have socialists, anarchists, those who identify with both labels, and those who identify with neither. People come to us from the Yiddishist cultural world and from anti-Zionist organising spaces. Our group includes both the frum and the fully non-observant. Some of us haven’t heard of the Bund until recently, while some have long family histories within the Bund. 

It is patently obvious, but deserves to be stated outright, that in such an organising environment there are going to be stark differences of opinion. These will be exacerbated by primarily online organising and instant messaging conversations, which are notoriously difficult to do with any degree of nuance.

Differences of opinion are not a bad thing in the slightest. Provided good will and constructive dialogue are maintained, they can even be encouraged. In this sense, history is on our side as well. The Bund was not founded with a series of commandments given to it on Mount Sinai — neither ideological ones nor organising ones. Many of the most important policies that it would come to be known for actually crystallised years after its foundation, including national cultural autonomy (1905) or anti-Zionism (1900) and involved lots of arguing. Some policies were adopted and repealed, such as support for political assassinations (1902/1903) or adapted according to circumstances (the idea of socialist unity in the 1920s, or the relationship to the existing State of Israel and a global Jewish identity in the 1950s). 

In each of these cases, open debate was facilitated as a necessary requirement. The Leninist principle of achieving organisational unity under democratic centralism never took hold as doctrine in the Bund. Majority and minority resolutions were published in meeting agendas and publications. Different factions were given representation in organisational leadership, sent on outside delegations, and allowed to publish their own newspapers. This doesn’t mean that frictions didn’t exist within the Bund, or that there weren’t unifying points that were required for membership, but such flexibility allowed for divides to be absorbed much more easily than if the doctrine of a strict ‘party line’ were followed. It would be beyond foolish to try and follow a different path today for the reasons outlined above. 

Historical Continuity

While much of the organising ideas outlined above are not strictly limited to Bundist organising (hence why I often repeat that the legacy of the Bund is not only relevant to the Jewish left), I wish to end on a point that is limited to our own circumstances.

As I mentioned previously in the introduction, any group can call itself “Bundist,” “neo-Bundist,” or inspired by the Bund. But to call yourself THE Bund strongly implies some kind of direct connection with the historical movement. In fact, some have done this in recent years — without much success. What separates us?

Many people who are getting involved in the IJLB are not particularly interested in its historical legacy, at least not in a historical nerdy way. Instead, they are keen on building a Jewish movement that addresses contemporary political issues that other organisations do not. (Joining the Bund due to non-ideological interpersonal conflicts with already existing organisations comes with considerable risks). This is a very good sign, because the major problem of Bundist organisations after the Second World War was that they were unable to break out of their own bubbles. People who stayed involved with the Bund usually either had familial connections (hence the concept of 3rd and 4th generation Bundists) or were dedicated history scholars/nerds. This is not enough. However, everyone must keep in mind that our aim at the beginning of this process was to rebuild the Bund organisation, not simply to build a new organisation with a traditional Bundist aesthetic. The IJLB should consider itself a descendant of the pre-World War II Jewish Labour Bund.

This historical legacy is going to be an important part of Bundist organising. The History Working Group (under the Ideology & Education Committee) is still in the process of being set up, but plenty of ideas have already been floated on its work — organising events, libraries, reading groups, publications, oral history projects, and much more. Bringing in students, academic “Bundologists,” and professional nerds, as well as other organisations with Bundist legacies could be used to establish a Jewish Labor Bund History Association that goes beyond the IJLB and increases access to this very important history. It could even be extended to other autonomous Jewish socialist diasporist movements, such as the Sephardic Socialist Workers Federation of Salonica.

A good practical reason for setting up a separate Historical Association would be to prevent the IJLB itself from becoming a historical discussion club. No matter how much people should be free to immerse themselves in the beautiful history of the Bund, we should resist the urge of LARPing, or yearning for a particular idealised image of a world that existed a hundred years ago. To remain true to our legacy, the Bund must ground its organising in a 21st-century socioeconomic context.

There is also more of a legalistic question — can the IJLB today hold the claim of being a direct descendant from the General Jewish Labour Bund, founded in Vilna in 1897? Should it try to undertake steps to dispel any doubts? How would this even be done?

THE post-WW2 Bund in America ended its activities in the early 2000s. I am not fully acquainted with the exact circumstances, but there is no one alive today who can ceremoniously pass the torch on from them. There are, however, several individuals who were active in the postwar Bund in America who are currently active in the IJLB. I have been in many meetings and conversations with them, and their experience and input have been priceless. There are also several organisations that have some historical connections to the Bund, such as the Jewish Labor Committee or the various Workers Circles, including the Centre Medem in Paris, France.

However, one organisation stands out above them all. The Jewish Labor Bund in Melbourne is the only organisation of the Bund that has existed continuously since before WW2. Where all other Bund organisations failed, they succeeded. With an active SKIF youth movement, they have managed to bring up several generations of Bundists about as far away from the old country as you can get. They are politically engaged, such as the recent (unfortunately unsuccessful) referendum campaign for indigenous representation in the Australian parliament. It is also no coincidence that the only secular Yiddish day school in the world today exists in Melbourne.

On the other hand, its historical status has its downsides — you are much more likely to be active in the Melbourne Bund because you have a familial connection to it, rather than because you agree with its political stances. It is also not particularly active in Jewish labour organising. And while it would never consider itself Zionist, the organisation’s public stances on Israel-Palestine are far more moderate than those who come to the IJLB from an anti-Zionist organising background.

There is undeniable value in direct historical continuity, as I’m sure many Wobblies can attest to. It undeniably existed for me when I was active in the Polish Socialist Party (PPS), the Bund’s historical ally, that is still active today.

Personally, I believe that it is worth making good faith attempts to connect with all Bundist organisations. While there will certainly be challenges, and certain principles can never be sacrificed, to have a direct connection with Bundists everywhere would be invaluable.

While some IJLB members may be concerned with this approach, it is worth remembering that all organisations have some level of division within them, and that the IJLB’s presence can influence and inspire organisations to act in ways in which they otherwise would not.

Having sat in on many conversations over the last few years with the aforementioned organisations across the world, I believe that starting off by working together where possible will increase the reputation and resources needed to build a 21st-century Bund.

COMING SOON
PART 2: YIDDISHKAYT & DOIKAYT