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A shtetl [town] in Grodno gybernia [province]. Part of the Brisker Województwoshaft [provincial region] until its transfer to Russia (during the division of Poland).

Jews had lived there since the end of the 17^th century.

The ruler of the shtetl – the great hetman [military commander] and Lithuanian prince, Leon Sapieha – permitted the Jews to build a prayer house in 1680, without which there would have been barriers to reciting their prayers. With this, he wanted to influence the Jews to want to settle in Bereze. In addition, he permitted the building of houses and their decoration at the discretion [of the Jews]. He also gave them the same right as all other Jews who lived in the areas of his rule.

He made sure that the freedom that he gave the Jews would be maintained by his heirs.

The son of the hetman, in a subsequent edict from his father, on the same sheet of paper, added the words:

“I [will] observe the [terms] of my father, Kazimir Leon Sapieha, for the Jews of Bereze.”

The Jewish population in the shtetl consisted of 242 souls according to the official information of 1766.

In 1909, the shtetl belonged to the Pruzhany district, Grodno gybernia [province].

In 1847, the Bereze Jewish community numbered 261 men and 254 women.

In 1897, in the census, there were 6,226 residents in Bereze. Of them, 2,623 Jews, 2,600 Provoslavne [Russian Orthodox] and 800 Russian Catholics.

Evreyskaya Entsiklopedia [Jewish Encyclopedia], Petersburg, 1909, volume 4, page 216.

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Drawn out on both sides of the highway between Warsaw and Moscow in the area of Brisk-Baranovichi was the shtetl [town] Kartuz-Bereza.

On the north side flows the Yaselda [River] that discharges into the Pina and with the Pripyat, Bug and Wisła [Vistula], creates the large river current that reaches to the Baltic Sea, the Danzig [Gdansk] port.

The double name, Kartuz-Bereza actually has two interpretations:

1. Many birch trees [berioza] grow in the surrounding area, and
2. Near the shtetl stood an old, large monastery that the well-known Lithuanian Duke [Lew] Sapieha built at the end of the 17^th century. In this holy church on the hill lived the Christian ascetic order, the Carthusians, followers of Saint Descartes; from them comes the twin names Kartuz-Bereza.

In later times, various legends began to be woven around this church. In general, the ruins would be looked at as a place of calamity and it was considered healthier to be far from them… The old men in the shtetl were able to enumerate without end the wonderful stories that echoed the stories of a thousand and one nights.

Of the excellent storytellers were Shmulke the wagon-driver and Avrahaml's son, Ruvin Yisroel. All stories described the astonishing wealth that was found in the monastery – treasures with gold and silver; unlimited jewels and diamonds. They knew that the walls were expensive marble; that the roofs were covered with copper sheet metal; that the floors were set with fantastic mosaics; that the walls were painted with mysterious pictures; that the furniture and utensils were such that no man's eyes in the world had ever seen.

All of this was before the destruction of the monastery. And when the old men would begin to tell what happened after the destruction, it would actually raise the hair on one's head. It appears that this place of the holy Nazarene brothers was occupied by demons, devils and imps; various groups of magicians settled in the ruins and reigned there.

They occupied the mysterious, famous cellars, caves and underground passageway and, when it got dark, they would crawl out from there in the night to frolic in the surrounding area. They would invade all of the Jewish houses, in the cellars and granaries where they would carry on wild, mischievous acts. More than anything, they beset the horse stalls. Almost every night they would arrange “dance evenings” in one or another of the stalls and force the horses to dance with them… In the morning, the owners of the horses found their horses tired, tortured, covered with sweat, almost dead; barely breathing, they lay spread out and the manes of the horses were braided in strange and bizarre braids or tufted locks…

The people, old and young, became accustomed to these spirits and demons and would not be afraid of them.

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They strolled in the late evening in the dark alleys, in the secluded corners. They were not afraid although they had “truly seen” these demons, someone in a well and someone in the smaller brooks, mainly in the moonlight…

And Kartuz-Bereza possessed many bodies of water.

When the first rain began to drip during the month of Tishrei [September-October], the shtetl was immersed in mud until Shavous [Feast of Weeks – late May or June]. For the greater part of the year, we could not go outside in the shtetl without boots, in winter in black boots up to the knee. We would trudge in the world famous Polesia muds [which reached] over the knees.

Not one street had even a sign of a sidewalk. For months, the marketplace was simply a deep river, covered with a green infested morass. At the beginning of this century [20th century], they began to lay boardwalks in various places and later, little by little, they also paved a series of streets at the market with cobblestones.

The shtetl was mainly on both sides of the highway – the street actually carried the name der Chaussee [the highway]. Up to two kilometers [1.2 miles] long, the street created the main nerve of the shtetl. On the west side, including the market and side alleys, lived the Jews; they lived compactly with houses closely next to other houses. The other side, the east was settled by non-Jews. The large areas of gardens and fields that were cultivated by the peasants began from there.

The shtetl possessed almost 6,000 residents – almost an equal number of Jews and Christians.

Two main sources provided income for the Jews: the highway and the Yaselda [River].

Before there was a train, the highway, the central Warsaw-Moscow road

A ruin – remnant of the of the former church of the Christian ascetic monastery the “Holy Kartuska”

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that went through the entire length of the shtetl, was the main highway for east-west trade. On it went all of the transport from eastern Europe through Poland to distant Russia. Stage coaches, mail coaches with merchants and goods constantly sped through there. The two sentry boxes, one on the north side not far from Yaselda [River] and the other on the south side near the barracks, determined the boundaries of the city. In the earlier times these sentry boxes served as stations where they would change the tired, exhausted horses for fresher, rested one. This was an important source of income. Horse merchants, horse handlers and drivers drew a better than usual livelihood from this. Jewish blacksmiths, wheelwrights, carpenters and locksmiths concentrated around these stations. Here, too, Jews had warehouses with oats and hay, food for the horses. The Jewish houses along the highway were in the majority inns, taverns, places to stay for those traveling through.

The Yaselda [River] was the second means of transport for the area.

As it was in all of Polesia, the area of Bereza also was full of unlimited forests. During the winter months, when everything was frozen, the village peasants began to remove the wood that had been “taken down” in the forest during the summer. They rolled out the timbers and took them to the shore of the Yaselda.

The wood would be placed in the river in the spring when the snow began to melt; they [the timbers] would be arranged according to size and “rafts” would be made of them that were driven to Danzig [Gdansk].

The wood trade was in Jewish hands.

The forest actually found its place in the shtetl – at that time the houses were wooden. One house was brick and was actually called “the brick house.” The majority of the roofs were straw. In general, the houses were small, naked on the outside, not whitewashed. It was not unusual that the interior of a house was not whitewashed. There were cottages without floors. The central point in the house was the oven, which warmed all of the rooms and often also served as a wall that divided the “behind the oven.” Long benches were placed around the house walls that served for sitting during the day and at night for sleeping for the village peasants who could also receive a drink and a snack here.

Thus it once was.

During that time, the situation

The Chausee [highway] Street in Kartuz-Bereza with a wooden sidewalk

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changed and the shtetl assumed a different face.

The development of the railway movement in Russia in general and the Warsaw-Moscow railroad in particular pushed Bereza forward.

Coincidentally, this history is told of the building of the train station:

Turmoil started in Bereza when the train line was created past the shtetl and when it was necessary to erect a station. The influential people began to use all means to annul the “decree…” The reason was very simple: the train traveling through would disturb the repose of Shabbos [Sabbath], the sleep after the cholent [Sabbath stew]… The government took this complaint of those in Bereza who rested on Shabbos into consideration and moved the train line from the shtetl and built the station in Bludnia, five kilometers from Bereza.

There is another explanation for why the line was so far from the shtetl – an economic one. The shtetl was afraid that the proximity of the train line would greatly harm the source of income of the highway. That because of the train's proximity, it would take away the work of the wagon drivers. So let the line and the train station be a little further from the source of income.

However, the five kilometers [3.1 miles] did not help. The highway became Shabesdik [in the spirit of the Sabbath] – it began to rest. The train took over the goods and passenger transport. The first to feel this were those who kept the “stage coach horses,” the wagon-drivers, the blacksmiths, the hay and oats merchants – it [the railroad] closed their main source of income.

The building of the railroad line drew a new class of people throughout Russia. New occupations arose. The unskilled labor was done by the gentiles from the village, but the planning, supervision, the provision of building materials, organizing the work was done by the Jews in the city. A new type arose – contractors.

A group of larger and smaller contractors came out of Bereza. Some with their great ambition and on their own initiative took over large areas of land deep in Russia to carry through the railroad line there.

I want to mention Reb Yisroel Grinberg, may he rest in peace, as a beautiful example; a Jew, a Talmud scholar, a Beis-Medrish Jew, a Zionist. He ran the largest firms in the Tzarist capital, from Petersburg. He opened an entire “railroad department.” He always had a house in Bereza, never broke off his contact with the shtetl, but his net of activity was spread wide, to Kavkaz [Caucasus] and Siberia.

Next came the smaller contractors; they were called Brachikes. The large one, the entrepreneurs would take over the building of the train lines in most longer-distance sections and they would parcel out [portions of the building project] among the smaller Brachikes who would receive certain sections. There were many Brachikes among the Bereza Jews – the Zavelovich family and so on.

The construction of the railroad demanded various supervisors, artisans. The unskilled workers needed food, clothing; Jewish shops and artisans – tailors, shoemakers, hatmakers and so on – drew their income from the salaries [of the unskilled workers].

The railroad line went from being a curse to being blessing to the community.

Another source of income for the shtetl appeared – the “brokers.” The network of the railroad line in Russia made possible a convenient and quick connection with the distant part of the country and mainly sped up the transit between west and east, particularly between Germany and Russia.

The Berezer young people flowed to the position of “broker.” They sat in Warsaw, Lodz, Minsk and other large cities. They connected to large merchants and factories and began to manage the trade from one corner of Russia to the other. Some became well-known exporters in whose hands lay a great part of the export-import trade abroad. These “brokers” would be outside of Bereza. Their families lived in the shtetl; they only came back to their wives and children as guests for holidays.

Little by little the desire to move enveloped wide circles of the population

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and a visible emigration to America and Argentina began. This movement was so large that a number of Berezer Jews organized secret, temporary emigration offices in their houses. They would receive support from entire families or individuals in the distant countries for their wives and children remaining in Bereza. A large number of families lived from the support that the emigrants had sent back.

An important economic factor in Bereza were the large military barracks that the Russian government built at the end of the 19th century. The Russian government believed that because of its proximity to the Brisker fortress and because it lay right near the Yaselda [River], Bereza was a strategic point and consequently needed to have a military garrison. Barracks for an entire regiment were built.

Many Bereza Jews took part in the building of the barracks. They provided the building materials and also many Jewish workers and artisans worked on them. Later, when the barracks were finished, the regiment became a fresh source of income. Contractors who would provide provisions, shops, bakers, artisans, restaurants – all earned money from the barracks.

When Bereza ceased to be just a point for passing through that was essentially its two “coach sentry boxes,” when new income and occupations began to appear in the shtetl, something else new arrived: a market every week and a monthly fair. The city developed a different appearance. The market and fairs drew merchants and traders from a wide area. A number of industries developed, first the wood industry; sawmills, lumber mills, brickyards were built. Bereza particularly became known as the “fish corner” from which fish would be sent to Warsaw and even to Lodz. The transport of meat to the large cities also would provide income for tens of families.

Bereza began to change externally and internally.

On the south side of the highway, in the Jewish part of the city, they began to rebuild the houses. They added to, enlarged, made the exterior appearance more beautiful, enlarged the windows, paneled, plastered and colored the walls. They took down the straw roofs and covered them with shingles or with tin. They built beautiful porches in front and fine fences adorned the houses, flowers and trees everywhere. Brick houses also began to appear with floors – der moyer [the brickhouse] was no longer an only one. The shops also became larger. Finer goods, and many [of them], began to appear in the shops.

Also inside, in the houses, it

In a sawmill at the building of the train station in Kartuz-Bereza, 1925. The working young Jews from the pioneer kibbutz.

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began to look different. Rarely a house without a floor; the walls received flowered wallpaper; doors and windows were painted; instead of the simple chairs and tables, furniture appeared – modern “Viennese” chairs and nickel beds with mattresses (instead of straw mattresses). Beautiful lamps appeared in many houses; curtains beautified the windows; embroidered napkins on the tables; pictures on the walls were noticed in some houses.

A race to show off started – who could outfit [their homes] more beautifully, with finer dishes, utensils, tableware, cooking dishes and other household conveniences.

Bereza would wear a very different face during the holiday days. All of the entrepreneurs, contractors, expeditors, brokers and the like would come home for the holidays. Each of these “guests” demonstrated what he had brought from afar. Each one wanted to show the “latest style” that he had brought from the large cities. And black suits of the best English cloth appeared; dinner jackets, top hats and black lacquered shoes; many wore rings with gems…

On the other side, the wives of these “metropolitan” men wanted to show that they also knew the “style” and dressed well and the city artisans were pelted with work.

After Passover or after Sukkuos [Feast of Tabernacles], the “guests” would leave; the wives would don the everyday and the shtetl returned to its monotonous life. All began to feel the same.

Until the “epoch of wandering,” Bereza lived idyllically, traditionally. Piety was the ruling order. The houses of prayer were always full of worshippers and students. The Talmud, Mishnius [written compilation of the Oral Torah], Ein-Yaakov [Well of Jacob – Talmudic literature] and Chofetz Chaim [Pursuer of Life by Rabbi Yisroel Meir Kagan] and other societies were active on the cold and long winter nights; the young walked in the footsteps of their parents. They went to kheder [religious primary school] or the Talmud Torah [religious primary school for poor boys]; from there they traveled to yeshivas [religious secondary schools] and in their time they also were “guests” on holidays – guests without dinner jackets, without top hats and without rings…

For many years, Bereza excelled with its rabbis who were known around the world. Rabbi Yitzhak-Elchanan Spektor, may the memory of a righteous man be blessed, Reb Eliyahu Kletzkin, may the memory of a righteous man be blessed, who moved to Lublin and lived in Eretz Yisroel during the end of his life. His son, Dr. Yakov Kletzkin, was born in Bereza and was a student of Reb Shlomo Gandz, of blessed memory.

Talmud scholars, great experts could be found among Bereza shopkeepers and ordinary Jews.

When Bereza Jews began to wander through… [other] countries and the shtetl emerged from its earlier boundaries, this also ended the earlier idyll, and it never came back round again. Other times and other songs began to be heard.

Friction and quarrels infiltrated the shtetl. Some kind of dark demons split Bereza into two parts – the highway actually divided the shtetl. North and south began to “have a war” between them. Fate had decreed that the entrepreneurs would live on the south side of the highway. The large forest merchants, estate owners – this part of the city actually received the name “the rich man's street.” The ordinary people, artisans and toilers, wagon drivers and small shopkeepers lived in the remaining part of the city. They, the ordinary ones, loved the shtetl; they carried on themselves the burden of communal, kehilishn [communal Jewish] life.

And the war came…

The “rich men” were envious that the “ordinary people” had influence in the city.

The city people could not bear the “rich man's street” with its “airs.”

Over time, fuel accumulated until it blew up. The first outbreak that shattered the idyllic life was the rabbi question – a stubborn war broke out about rabbis.

As soon as Rebbe [Eliyahu] Kletzkin, may the memory of the righteous man be blessed, left Bereza (he became the chairman of the Beis Din [religious court] in Lublin, which was known for its great rabbis such as the MaHaRam, the Marashal, the Chozeh and so on), the question arose of a successor.^[1]

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Reb Eliyahu proposed his nephew, also a Kletzkin, a great scholar and a genteel man, in his place. However, the rich men wanted someone else, one of their relatives – Rabbi Osherowicz, who was then in Seltz [Syalyets], not far from Bereza.

These quarrels lasted for years, divided the shtetl into two hostile factions and lowered respect for the Torah. Having two rabbis in a shtetl deepened the rupture in the kehile [organized Jewish community]. Rabbi Kletzkin called himself “the city” or “market” rebbe and Rabbi Osherowicz – “the rich” or “highway” rebbe. Neither rabbi ever looked at the other one, each one ruled within his “boundaries.” Even the houses of prayer were actually in separate geographical territories…

At that time, there was no national statute in Russia for the kehilus [organized Jewish communities]; the kehilus like the rabbis were not recognized on the part of the regime as if they, in general, did not exist and the regime authorities were relieved of care for them. There were two kinds of rabbis in each city and town: the “internal” rabbi, the local rabbi who the community had elected for its religious needs, and an “external” rabbi – the kazionni rabin [state appointed official rabbi] who was designated by the regime, with whom the authorities would favor the cities and towns. The latter was the entrusted man for the high officials. Like a “functionary” – a state official – the municipality had to designate a salary.

Bereza also had good luck with such an official rabbi. Consequently, the community had three rabbis, two who lived by the good will of the managers of the synagogues and other community donors and the third one by the good will of the “third” side…

As in many other shtetlekh, one of the incomes of the rabbis was a monopoly on yeast to bake baked goods. Here each side placed a ban on the “strange yeast.” Each rabbi ruled that the baked goods of the other side was unkosher… The wives on both sides also would carry out agitation among the non-Jewish population that they should only buy yeast from “their rabbi.” Thus the non-Jewish world was drawn into these quarrels.

It was clear, however, that the sale of yeast could not feed the two rabbinical families and they began to seek other income. After long assemblies and meetings,

The children, teachers and communal workers of the Kartuz-Bereza Talmud Torah [primary religious school for boys]. Above on the right – a picture of the “rich rabbi,” on the left – of the religious judge

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it was decided to expand the rabbinical monopoly on Yom Kippur candles. We were not supposed to buy these candles from private shops.

However, this also was too little – both rabbinical families actually starved. Again, there was a series of deliberations and meetings until it was decided to organize a “weekly [collection]” – women from both sides would go out weekly to collect weekly money for the rabbis. Often the collectors could not resist the temptation and would cross the “boundary” and take a few pennies from the “other side.” This would increase the quarrels. The hostility burned so much that the fire even entered the bathhouse and the mikvah [ritual bath].

It is difficult to understand the hidden intention of the war around the mikvah – if one side thought of the other side as “ritually unclean” to immerse in the same mikvah as they or to use the “steam” in the bathhouse; or the sides did not want both rabbis to show the opposing party their nakedness on erev Shabbos [the eve of the Sabbath – Friday]…

When the old mikvah collapsed because of its age and rottenness, there was a good opportunity for each side to begin building its own mikvah as well as a bathhouse.

The quarrels reached very far. There were few coins to support the rabbis; however, there were huge sums to build two large buildings – each side in its “Pale of Settlement.”

The “rabbinical war” possesses a very large and painful chapter in the history of Jewish cities and shtetlekh [towns]. Bereza is one example of this.

Until the outbreak of the First World War in 1914, Bereza had six houses of prayer:

1. The central place of worship was the “Old House of Prayer.”
2. Opposite stood the “New House of Prayer,” which had another name, Khevre Tehilim [Psalms Society].
3. On the west side, between them, stood the Artisans' House of Prayer;
4. Opposite, on the east side, the Hasidic shtibl [small one-room synagogue] of the Kobriner and Slonimer Hasidim.
   These four houses of prayer were located at the “synagogue courtyard.” Years before, the “Old Synagogue” (kalte shul [cold synagogue – unheated synagogue used during the summer]), which burned in a fire, stood there. In addition to the four mentioned, there were:
5. The house of prayer of the Khevra Kadisha [burial society] at the market and 6) the “Rich Men's House of Prayer” at Gvirisher [rich man's] Street.

In general, Hasidism was not embraced in Polesia. Hasidus spread more in Poland, Volyn, Podolia. The Hasidim were a small minority of the Jewish community in Bereza – several dozen minyonim [prayer groups]. Of them, the majority belonged to the “Slonimer court” and the minority to “Kobriner.” Almost all Hasidim were from the poorer strata – “We gathered together [from the Shemona esrei prayer]; Rabbi Mendl, Risha's son, the religious judge, the shokhetim [ritual slaughterers], several teachers, artisans and wagon drivers. Despite the fact that they belonged to various Hasidic “paths” and also that they were visited by the plague of the rabbinical “sides,” they lived peacefully together under one roof. The Korbiner were the simplest and poorest and went along with the “city side,” attached themselves to the “market rabbi” – the Slonimer, on the contrary, went with the “rich men's” side. However, to their praise, it must be said that both Hasidic sides tried to live in peace and avoid everything that could disturb the praying. They tried hard so that the devil would not disturb their prayers.

In the Hasidic world, the standard “rejoice when there is trembling” was accepted. The Polish and Polesia Hasidim were divided by this – the Polish took the “rejoice” and the Polesia the “trembling…” The Polesia melodies were starkly sad monotones. It was difficult to distinguish them from the melodies of Lamentations

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The large synagogue in Kartuz-Bereza on Prizshener Street after the First World War

The “rich” house of prayer on Chaussee Street. Near the post office.

The Yavne [religious Zionist] school building in Kartuz-Bereza

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to HaYom T'amtzeinu [On this day, may You strengthen us]. The religious ecstasy during prayer literally reached the freeing of oneself from the earthly life. Their prayers, mainly among the “Kobriner,” were very noisy, truly split the heavens. When they reached the prayer, Nishmat kol chai [the soul of every living thing], they were gripped by fear. The air trembled; all eyes were closed; their hands were raised to heaven; their feet made a noise and the words of the prayer thundered from their mouths…

There was another difference between the Polish Hasidic style and the Polesia – in Poland the Hasidim in the thousands would travel to their rebbes – in Polesia the rebbe would come to the Hasidim in the cities and the shtetlekh. In the shtetl itself, such a rabbinical visit did not make any impression, but it was an extraordinary event for the Hasidim.

The rebbe would come for Shabbos. He, himself, would pray at the pulpit, read the weekly Torah portion himself. On such a Shabbos, the praying lasted many hours. Every word had its weight. The rebbe would accompany some words with long moans, with sounds tinged with nostalgia. It felt as if each verse coming from him [was remarkable] – he “improved” each prayer. The Hasidim were so engrossed in prayer that the world could turn over…

The majority of the Hasidim were scholars and very diligent students like many of the misnagdim [opponents of Hasidism] in the shtetl. However, the everyday conversations of the Hasidim and their stories of the rebbes were mostly colorless. In general, the shtetl looked with disdain on the Hasidim and, with mockery, they were called skahidim.*

*[Translator's note: those mocking the Hasidim transposed the first consonants of Hasidim to create skahidim, which in some Yiddish dialects means “suspects.”]

It was particularly lively on Simkhas Torah [holiday commemorating the completion of the yearly reading of the Torah and the start of the reading for the new year], especially on the night of Shemini Atzeret [eighth day of Sukkous – Feast of Tabernacles] when the misnagdim do not participate in the hakofos [circular procession with the Torah scrolls]. A short time before Maariv [evening service], the shtibl was full of children – boys and girls, even the children of misnagdim – with flags and candles stuck into apples or potatoes and took part in the hakofos with great enthusiasm. In the evening, the Polesia Hasidim ceased their limitless “trembling” and rejoiced. The strongest attraction was the traditional, passionate dances of the Rebbe Asher Chomski, of blessed memory. He was a dancer from God's grace. The effect of Greater-Minsk, where he had been for a full year, could be felt. His stately appearance, the large beard combed into two tails and his urbane behavior strongly found favor with everyone.

We have to recognize that the first stage of connection to Eretz Yisroel was the Hasidic shtibl.

The Slonimer Hasidim were very warm and supportive old Eretz Yisroel settlement. Their participation in the kollels – the collecting of money for Israel – was active and well organized. They had devoted emissaries and devoted representatives in the holy cities in Eretz Yisroel: Jerusalem, Hebron, Safed and Tiberias, where with great care they would distribute the money from gulas [exile] that had been sent through the “main lodging” in Slonim, which was under the strong supervision of the rebbe himself.

One of these emissaries was a Berezer Hasid – Alter Kremer's father. A short, wide-boned and red Jew. His entire face was covered with a beard and peyes [side curls] from which his eyes sparkled. His voice, true, was hoarse, but would strongly strike the ears of the listener. From time to time, he would come from Eretz Yisroel to give the rebbe an account of his activity and consequently also to visit his birth city.

His visit to Bereza would be welcomed in the Hasidic shtibl with a great parade. They celebrated with a holiday-like “supper” and they listened to the living greeting from the Holy Land with an inner tremble.

The Hasidim looked askance at official Zionism. They protected their children from being misled by criminals.

The Zionist movement in Bereza began at the same time as the First Zionist Congress. There was a delegate from Bereza with the name of Aritshik at the First Zionist Congress in Basel. The first activists were maskilim [followers of the Enlightenment] and learned men from the shtetl. Young people who had spent long years in the yeshivos [religious secondary schools] became the pioneers in the Hibat Zion [Lovers of Zion] movement. They

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began to instill the love of Tanakh [the Torah, Prophets and Writings] in the young, of the Hebrew language, literature and of Eretz Yisroel. They were strongly religious and this helped to increase the number of followers of the Hibat Zion movement.

From among them excelled Rabbi Borukh Zisha Zismanovich, a Hasidic Jew but a good maskil [follower of the Enlightment], a first-class Hebraist, an author of a book about grammar, the Hebrew language and literature. His last years were spent in Eretz Yisroel where he was a leader of a Mizrakhi [religious Zionist] school.

The second one was Ayzyk Molodowsky, the father of the poet, Kadya Molodowsky. He, too, a good-hearted, sensitive maskil, raised a generation of those who knew Hebrew.

Reb Shlomo Gandz – the founder of the first school in Bereza that was based on teaching Hebrew in Hebrew, without the use of another language – should also be remembered.

The first chairman of the Zionist committee in Bereza was Rabbi Shlomo Gersznhorn, or Tema's husband, Rabbi Shlomo. He was an extraordinary type, a learned man, expert in Talmud and commentaries on Jewish law, was ordained to the rabbinate, very pious – a merchant of iron and wood materials. With his body and life, he threw himself into the Zionist movement, to which he committed his fervent heart and passionate temperament. Although he was a bit of a stutterer, he gave Zionist sermons day and night in the synagogues and houses of prayer.

When he was elected as the Zionist representative for all of Polesia, he gave his business to his refined wife Tema – from then on, he was called Tema's Reb Shlomo. He was rarely found at his business. He constantly traveled through the cities and shtetlekh agitating, recruiting followers for Zionism. In addition, he was a true man of the people, did not boast, just did his sacred work.

The Zionist movement encompassed the wide circles of the population; here, the divisions of the rabbinical “sides” were broken. Then the first “neutral” location was built, the Zionist premises that served as a meeting place for the groups that also was a reading room. The room was rented from a Jew, a Hasid – Reb Shlomo Brudna.

The Zionist idea established deep roots and encompassed all strata of the population. Well-established Bereza families, influenced by the idea, liquidated their businesses and with all of their belongings emigrated to Eretz Yisroel.

The first halutzim [pioneers – training for emigration to Eretz-Yisroel] were the Aliovich, Berkovich families and still others who were the founders of the Yavne'el colony in the Lower Galilee. Others settled in Jerusalem.

At the laying of the cornerstone of the Yavne School, 1930

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Program of a children's celebration at the Yavne [religious Zionist] School in Kartuz-Bereza

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The Revolutionary Movement

At the beginning of the 20^th century, the revolutionary movement, which wanted to throw off the yoke of the tsar, expanded all across Russia. These revolutionary and socialistic storm winds reached Bereza. It made such an impression on gigantic Russia that attention was given to the “revolutionary headquarters” in the small town of Kartuz-Bereza. This domain was provided with the appropriate revolutionary activists.

Triplets suddenly appeared in Bereza: a credentialed doctor, a credentialed dentist and a midwife.

The Jews had lived for many years, had children and were able to survive without these triplets.

If, God forbid, someone got sick, there was Rabbi Yakov-Yosl the royfe [old-time doctor], He was the absolute expert for all kinds of patients. There was also an apothecary shop in his residence. He would visit the sick, write a prescription and prepare the remedy himself. He was popular in the entire area – peasants would come to him for help from the distant villages and believed in him like a god – they called him “Yenkelko.”

Pulling teeth also was no problem. Bereza also possessed “specialists” in this area – the old Gandz, Shlomo's father, pulled teeth with…a key. And it was done properly.

And it was agreed to help new mothers. There were a very large number of midwives who helped bring the entire population of Bereza into the world.

The new “plague” – the mentioned triplets – had brought new witchcraft with it, not just the medical but also a new, unknown sort – a revolutionary.

Dr. Szwarc was a young man, a brunet with burning eyes, thick, black, curled hair. His wife, the dentist, was a thin, wonderfully beautiful woman. The midwife was a tiny one, thick and round.

It appeared that everything was going smoothly, in the best order – everyone did what they were supposed to do: the doctor healed the sick; the dentist pulled and treated teeth and the midwife brought the new generation into the world. However, a short time later, we noticed something – the young were adhering to these triplets. This one or that one would suddenly disappear, stroll outside the city, there were mysterious secret meetings in the forest, in the fields.

First of May celebration of the Bundist organization in Kartuz-Bereza, 1931

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The number grew. The doctor strongly affected the young. His wife drew young people to her like a magnet. Even the adult, married men entered her net and surrendered to the revolutionary movement. Various houses were nests of this activity.

A short time after their arrival, a student appeared in Bereza with long hair, in a black shirt, tied with a cord with tassels. He came as a guest of Dr. Szwarc and deigned to give lectures on the Russian language and literature. His arrival strengthened the movement even more; all of Bereza had different views; all of the young men and women began to wear black blouses with cords and tassels hanging down. Young women began to cut off their braids and the Russian language came into style.

Rumors later went around that this student was none other than Maxim Litvinov; he was named Volach then and came from Slonim or Bialystok. The later foreign-minister of the Soviet Union.

An upheaval came to Bereza. There was turmoil and agitation. Agents of the secret police searched and persecuted at every turn. Searches [took place] of various houses. The student Volach would disappear from time to time and again appear.

The young men at the yeshivas [religious secondary schools] who had devoted long years of studying at the Bereza houses of prayer were carried away by this wave.

This had an effect on the Zionist movement. The Hebrew teacher had to leave the shtetl. The Zionist premises were closed.

The time also came of “expropriations” – young men would burst into various houses and with revolvers in their hands demand “contributions” for the revolution.

The proximity of the Brisk fortress; the Yaselda River that was right near the shtetl; the railroad and the highway that lay on the main Warsaw-Moscow artery made Bereza an important strategic point. The fight actually took place in the shtetl itself. On one side of the bridge, from the north were the Russians – the Germans assaulted from the south. The hail of bullets cast a shadow over the shtetl.

Bereza was isolated from the surrounding world for a long time; there was no going out and no coming in. There was no contact with the villages. Hunger raged. The people were buried in the cellars or hidden somewhere such as the fields. The houses, the shops, all of the possessions were abandoned.

The occupiers – the Germans, Austrians and Hungarians – looted the abandoned houses and businesses.

It became dark in Bereza. The effervescent young were muted; people shuffled like corpses; all thoughts turned on the question: where does one get a potato, where does one get a piece of dark bread? All the stockpiles were emptied, also in the villages.

When the front moved a little further, when the people began to crawl out of the hiding places, they saw the great destruction; the majority of the Jewish houses were burned or severely damaged. The possessions were stolen; the bridges destroyed. Families whose residences had been destroyed were crammed into houses that remained intact.

They began to look around and began to make peace with the situation and looked to regain their strength as if after a flood. It was really difficult to orient oneself to the situation because the regime still was not stable – [who was in power] constantly changed, Germans, Hungarians and Austrians; today one, tomorrow the other.

The will to live overcame; they began to adapt to the ruler. Some with half sign language found a way to ingratiate themselves and offered their help to make contact between the regime and the villages (what Jew did not know some German?). Some began to receive “certificates” to travel outside the boundaries of the shtetl to buy wheat and various provisions; others could even reach Warsaw.

Little by little, Bereza revived. They began to build and repair the

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damaged houses, to trade, to work. Help began to arrive from the Joint (Joint Distribution Committee). Support from relatives across the ocean also would arrive. They thought that they had arrived at a bit of calm, that life was beginning to become normal. However, in reality, this was only a temporary calm. Shortly, new wars began to flare up.

The surrender by the Germans, the Brisk Peace, the Russian Revolution, the Bolshevik upheaval, the rise of Poland as an independent state brought new chaos. A war began between Soviet Russia and aristocratic Poland, and Bereza again was in middle of this fire. The wrath of a new plague poured out over the shtetl.

The remnants that still remained after the previous war were annihilated in the constant battles between the Bolsheviks and Poles. Each in its way and manner looted, robbed, took contributions. Both armies were naked, hungry and everything was important for each temporary ruler of the shtetl. In addition to food and clothing, they also took jewelry, rings from fingers, earrings from ears, they searched and rummaged in all hiding places, tore out floors, smashed furniture. The horror of death hovered without an end.

The Polish soldiers, the legionnaires who carried various names – the Halerczikes [followers of the anti–Semitic Polish General Josef Haller], the Poznanczikes [members of the Polish Armia Wielkopolska – Army of Great Poland] – showed their wildest instincts.

Over many generations, the population of Polesia had become accustomed to Russian life, to the Russian language and manner; the village populations were Pravoslavna [Russian Orthodox] and the hostility to the aristocrats, who were in the majority Polish and Catholic, was great. And as fate decreed that the Russian-Polish War ended in a Polish victory and the hostile Polesian element was transferred to Polish rule, the new ruler searched for a “mediator” with the villages. The city had to be the bridge and again it had to be the Jew. The relationships settled down. All sides forgot the emergency hour, the time of mutual open hostility. An exchange of products and goods between the village and city began. Bereza began to rebuild the ruins. The Joint helped in various ways. Life returned to a normal path.

The Jewish hospital constructed in Kartuz-Bereza with American help

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Then came the decisive moment with the “committee.”

The Zionist movement still had not recovered. It had not shown enough interest in communal work, although at that time many of the young had emigrated to Eretz Yisroel. The Zionists ignored that historic moment and, conversely, the Bundists and other leftist elements threw themselves into the work with great fervor. They were the most active at creating the “aid committee.” Several religious Jews were taken into the committee with rabbis at the head. They became the caretakers of the money that began flowing in from across the ocean.

The religious Jews asked for only a trifle; open a bit of a poor Talmud Torah [religious primary school for poor boys] for boys, take over the mikvah and restore the houses of prayer. In addition, they gave the complete authority to the other committee.

These elements occupied the “rich man's soil” and arranged a Jewish folks-shul [public school] there that was Yiddishist [advocating Yiddish culture] and not Zionist. In general, the population was dispirited, its mood oppressed and was happy that there were people who took care of their children with teaching, with food and with clothing…

Bereza actually was no great exception – a sharp, identical struggle took place in the Jewish neighborhoods all over Poland.

In 1922, a change took place in Bereza. Stronger Zionist personalities returned to Poland from Russia and the Zionist movement began to plant roots. A strong Tarbut [network of Hebrew-language secular schools] movement began that also reached Bereza.

With fervor, the Zionist group took and acquired one position after another. They organized a part of the young people. The population began to show curiosity about Zionism. Then they went further – they arranged an evening course for the adult young people until an opportunity came to open a Tarbut school.

The Tarbut central [committee] helped with good pedagogic strength and a school and kindergarten were opened. The Hebrew song and the Zionist word began to be heard in even more Jewish houses.

They were not satisfied with this and they became interested in a campaign to buy land and build their own building. The effort actually succeeded. The Tarbut brick building became a wonder of the entire area.

Great weight was given to work for Eretz-Yisroel. A large number of young and old emigrated to Israel until the Holocaust. Many of them occupied the position of teachers; some graduated from the university; Berezers are found among the Israeli poets and writers.

The Monday market day in Kartuz-Bereza

1. The MaHaRam – acronym of Moreinu Harav – our teacher the rabbi – Reb Meir – was Rabbi Meir ben Baruch, Marashal – acronym of Moreinu Harav Solomon Luria], the Chozeh – Seer of Lublin, was Yakov Yitzhak haLevi Horowitz. Return

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