Since the early days of the liberation of Europe in autumn 1944, a topic has inspired the pens of commentators, journalists, policy writers and historians alike: the fact that a significant number of Jews survived the destruction of European Jewry in the territories Italy occupied, and in Dalmatia especially.Footnote 1 In accounting for this remarkable case, historians have predominantly credited the benevolence of Italians and the Italian army towards JewsFootnote 2 or the anti-fascist nature of resistance movements, in this case the Yugoslav Liberation Army,Footnote 3 and acknowledged, even if to a lesser extent, Jewish participation in resistance movements.Footnote 4 However, was there anything particularly Jewish about Jewish liberation in Italian-occupied territories, for instance Dalmatia? Judging by Geza B., one of approximately 2,500 Holocaust survivors who spent the war years in Dalmatia,Footnote 5 it was not just that Jews had a role but rather: ‘We [Jews] liberated ourselves from Italians!’Footnote 6
This article delves into the Jewish history of Jewish resistance in Dalmatia from June 1941 to September 1943. Drawing from diverse survivor accounts and a wealth of literature, this article elucidates the mechanisms through which Jewish political culture in inter-war Yugoslavia allowed for personal networks and social structures that facilitated the initiation and perseverance of open resistance to fascism in Dalmatia. Based on examples from Minsk, Krakow and Bialystok, Evgeny Finkel has already demonstrated the connection between Jewish behaviour during the war and the political structures that existed prior to the political regimes that aimed at destruction of Jewish communities.Footnote 7 This approach is relevant for my own analysis since, prior to Yugoslavia’s entry into the war in April 1941, diverse Jewish political groups in this state were actively resisting antisemitism and fascism, within both Jewish and non-Jewish organisations.Footnote 8 Yet, I am also intrigued by the impact of this hybrid, both Jewish and not exclusively Jewish political culture on the formation of social networks that, ultimately, sparked Jewish resistance as part of general anti-fascist struggle in Dalmatia and Yugoslavia. In light of this, I focus on tracing Jewish resistance through an examination of inter-war Jewish political culture, predominantly looking at Jewish political organisations and how they interlink with progressive youth movements and the Communist Party of Yugoslavia.
Definitions of Jewish resistance are numerous, and they span from accounting for only armed resistance to recognition of spiritual,Footnote 9 passiveFootnote 10 and humanitarian resistanceFootnote 11 to ‘silence and small gestures’.Footnote 12 I adopt Evgeny Finkel’s broad characterisation inclusive of Jewish resistance as ‘involvement in organised activity aimed at harming the personnel and property of perpetrators of mass violence’, in this case Italian occupation forces, as well as ‘unarmed and nonviolent acts’ like gathering and disseminating information to the anti-fascist groups.Footnote 13 Moreover, as per my sources, I identify menza (canteen) as a social organisation that developed into a political entity dedicated to Jewish representation and ultimately functioned as a tool of resistance.
The article directly engages with the interpretation of Jewish involvement with the wider People’s Liberation Movement, operating in occupied Yugoslavia and led by the Communist Party of Yugoslavia. But how can we differentiate between Jewish and general resistance? This issue has troubled a long line of scholars. Shmuel Krakowski’s influential 1984 study delved into the unique social dynamics of the Jewish partisan movement in Poland in comparison to the general Polish resistance. He identified differences in motivation, organisation, enemies and relations with the local population.Footnote 14 The same question led Renée Poznanski to point out the differences between Jews who belonged to different political organisations. Drawing from the sources, the paper will detail the ways in which Jewish personal and group networks, as well as ideological openness and cooperation between political groups long before the war, shaped the Jewish experience of resistance in Dalmatia.
Finally, scholars have recognised that Jewish resistance depends on the anti-Jewish measures of the Nazi and Axis allies and their collaborators and their intentions and occupation policies, which essentially differ from one occupation zone to the next, as seen for instance in Poznanski’s work on Jewish participation in the French resistance,Footnote 15 Arelia Lang’s on the case of Jews in Italy,Footnote 16 Steven Bowman’s on Jews in GreeceFootnote 17 or more recently Finkel on resistance in Minsk, Krakow and BialystokFootnote 18 and Rachel Einwohner on the case of uprisings in Jewish ghettos in Poland.Footnote 19 This article follows a regional focus with its emphasis on Dalmatia. The Italian province studied here is the region of Mussolini’s ‘limited annexation’ formed on 18 May 1941 when the Duce gave up Dubrovnik, the islands of Brač (Brazza) and Hvar (Lessina) in order to retain Split (Spalato) and its surroundings, Šibenik (Sebenico), Trogir (Trau) and the majority of the islands.Footnote 20 However, what is so specific about Dalmatia?
A unique case of Jewish resistance to fascism happened in Italian-occupied Dalmatia. After an entire summer of political turbulence in the Italian political leadership in 1943, the execution of Mussolini and the so-called short armistice with the Allies, Italian troops started to retreat and desert.Footnote 21 This also happened on the island Rab (Arbe), then part of Fiume province, where the largest camp with Jewish inmates was located. However, the majority of Jews in the camp came to Rab from the province of Dalmatia. In the town of Kampor on the island, 247 Jews formed the only all-Jewish fighting unit in Yugoslav territories – the so-called Jewish battalion, or the fifth battalion of the Rab brigade.Footnote 22 One of the three leaders of the battalion, Viktor Hajon, wrote in 1955: ‘In my opinion, the most important moment, which characterises the entire struggle of Jews in Yugoslavia led against fascism, is the formation of the Jewish brigade’.Footnote 23 However, Jewish resistance went hand in hand with the political goals of the National Liberation Struggle (Narodnooslobodilački poket, NOP) led by the Communist Party of Yugoslavia. Recently, Emil Kerenji pointed out that the communist-led partisan army in Dalmatia named liberation of Jews as one of its war goals.Footnote 24 The NOP showed dedication to this aim when it organised the evacuation of Jews, alongside Croats, Slovenes and Serbs, from the camps on Rab, ahead of the arriving Nazi troops in late autumn 1943.Footnote 25 This act, unique in the context of the destruction of European Jewish communities and the Second World War, exemplifies certain ideological compatibility between the NOP and Jewish political organisations. This article, however, unearths the history that led to this development.
Another thing that makes Dalmatia unique is its position as an extensive source of diverse and valuable perspectives from Jews who lived under Italian occupation. These testimonies belong to three different categories: the written testimonies of the Jewish survivors of the Rab camp, members of the Rab battalion and Jewish medical staff, collected by and for the use of the Yugoslav Jewish Community between the mid-1950s and late 1960s, unused until now;Footnote 26 oral testimonies from Holocaust survivors collected throughout the 1990s;Footnote 27 and the collection of written testimonies published by the Jewish community in Belgrade between 2001 and 2011.Footnote 28 These testimonies were collected, written and taped over the course of almost fifty years, and among my intentions was also to examine whether, how and to what extent the survivors present resistance and liberation in their own narratives in this period.
The timeframe and context in which these testimonies were taken or written is crucial, in line with Jovan Byford’s thesis that testimonies are ‘the cultural underpinnings of bearing witness’.Footnote 29 Byford and other historians have underlined how Eastern European societies, including socialist Yugoslavia, did not differentiate between Jewish and other national and ethnic groups experiences and collective prosecution. According to this thesis, the state-supported ideas discouraged personal, emotional or defeatist reflections and only celebrated collective, anti-fascist, all-Yugoslav resistance to the Axis occupation, both local and foreign fascists and liberation of the country.Footnote 30 In the case of Yugoslavia, the situation with testimonies is further complicated by the Yugoslav wars in the 1990s, which re-opened the debate surrounding Nazi, fascist and collaborators’ crimes, and especially Ustaša in the Independent State of Croatia.Footnote 31
I acknowledge these conclusions but I also believe the earliest group of testimonies, focused on the liberation on Rab, reflect the internal and Jewish-specific Holocaust memory culture in Yugoslavia that had existed since the early 1950s, as Emil Kerenji recognised and Jelena Subotić endorsed in her recent book.Footnote 32 This set of testimonies does not stray from what Subotić called ‘memory without ethnicity’ or the inclusion of Jewish-specific experience under the umbrella of Nazi and fascist crimes committed against all Yugoslav nations.Footnote 33 Still, there are reasons why these testimonies stand out: either they were initiated by the Jewish community of Yugoslavia for the planned monograph about the liberation from Rab or they were self-initiated, as in the case of Salamon P. from Zenica (Bosnia).Footnote 34 This allowed for the focus on the personal but also Jewish experience, and this group of attestations recognises and emphasises the Jewish perspective of the war and resistance, and historicises Jewish political organising. Finally, even if they reflect on NOP, these accounts do not merely rejoice in the celebration of general resistance but offer personal insights into the process of joining the resistance, Jewish inmates and comrades and nuanced reflections on the time spent with the partisans. The video testimonies from survivors in Dalmatia also accentuate similar themes and topics, and this includes both those that were filmed in Yugoslavia (or successor countries) and those abroad. This consistency in the survivors’ testimonies conveys their own belief that Jews did liberate themselves: through longer engagement in anti-fascist struggle, resistance despite persecution and awareness of the destruction of Jewish communities in their vicinity. Therefore, the thread that the Jewish resistance was part of a longer trajectory of Jewish politics in this area and this article is dedicated precisely to an unearthing of this history.
‘Ideologically Different, but Close’: Jewish Inter-War Political Ideologies and Organisations in Inter-War Yugoslavia
The Jewish community of Yugoslavia aimed to publish a volume about the Jewish battalion on Rab on the occasion of its twentieth anniversary.Footnote 35 Despite the fact the book never saw the light of day, former resistance members assembled to discuss it. During one of these meetings, Ela V. (1922–1998) recommended that the publication should concentrate on tracing the organisation of Jews prior to their arrival at the Italian-organised concentration camp on Rab. This island has a distinct history as the Jewish and Yugoslav prisoners, predominantly Slovenian but also Croatian and Serbian, took control of the camp, disarmed the Italian forces and joined the Yugoslav partisans (Narodnooslobodilački pokret, NOP). Moreover, the island was a target for the sole organised liberation of a concentration camp with Jewish inmates during the Second World War. Ela V. lived through all of this on Rab, after escaping Sarajevo in 1941 through Mostar. She joined NOP along with numerous other women and men, taking on the role of a nurse from 1943 to 1945.Footnote 36 Her firsthand experience led her to a pertinent conclusion – the Jews’ arrival in Rab in spring 1943 is just a piece of a larger historical puzzle. This narrative goes beyond detailing the political structure Jews formed while rounded up by Italian authorities in several camps in Dalmatia.Footnote 37 It touches on the extensive pre-war Jewish political culture. Thus, I urge us to delve into the history of Jewish politics in pre-war Yugoslavia to contextualise and comprehend Jewish political responses to the Italian occupation, and to explore the Jewish-specific ways of organising in Dalmatia during the war.
Jews were not numerous in Dalmatia prior to the war. Nevertheless, this region offers a solid, comprehensive look at the Jewish resistance in the Adriatic due to three important factors. First, in the period just after the First World War, Jewish communities, and especially the one in Split, embraced newcomers from throughout the new Yugoslav state.Footnote 38 Amidst this setting, kehilot saw their cultural, linguistic and political distinctions fade away, giving rise to social and political collaborations across communities. Second, many Central European Jews began arriving in this area after 1933, with their numbers increasing further following the start of the war in Yugoslavia in April 1941, as Yugoslav Jews also mainly sought to flee persecution in the Italian occupation zone. Finally, despite undergoing the same emancipation process, the Jews in the emerging Yugoslav state mainly communicated in Serbo-Croatian for their political and social affairs. This promoted integration not only between different kehilot but also within the dominant gentile setting.Footnote 39 These three aspects together make the case for studying Jewish politics in Dalmatia as an amalgam of Jewish political action in the wider region.
About 75,000 Jews lived in the Yugoslav kingdom when the April war broke out at the advent of Axis occupation in April 1941. Jews, making up less than 1 per cent of the population, were scattered across different parts of the Yugoslav state, many with distinct cultural and religious customs, languages and social and political affiliations.Footnote 40 Despite this diversity, Zionism emerged as the primary political choice. Throughout the first half of the twentieth century, Zionism became a signifier a range of ideas, processes and movements: it could mean the active movement of Jewish nationalism with the aim of forming a Jewish state in Palestine, but over time it also came to signify the politics of Jewish nationalism or, even, (Jewish) politics in general.Footnote 41 Lastly, all three could figure at the same time. For instance, Ela V., who was raised in a Sephardi household in Sarajevo, recalled having a Keren Hayesod, a fund for the Yishuv, piggy bank positioned at the entrance of her home. However, she was not raised with Zionist beliefs and was not even a member of the left Zionist youth group, Hashomer Hatzair, which was at the time typical for Jewish youth, Sephardi and Ashkenazi alike. Rather, she belonged to a Sephardi-exclusive choir, La Lira, in Sarajevo.Footnote 42 Growing up in an atmosphere similar to Ela V.’s was more than common for middle class Jews.
There was a Yugoslav element to the inception of Zionism in this region. The first Zionist organisation, Bar Giora, organised at the Technical University in Vienna in 1902, was addressing Jews of the ‘South Slav lands’ or Jewish students from the Balkans.Footnote 43 The organisers were primarily Jews from the Austro-Hungarian region of Croatia-Slavonia, but they were joined by the Jews from occupied Bosnia-Herzegovina and Serbia. Following the standard Zionist aspirations such as ‘awakening and strengthening Jewish national feeling’, revival of Hebrew as the national language, studies of Jewish history and so on, Bar Giora’s mission also included efforts to improve the relationship between Ashkenazim and Sephardim from this region.Footnote 44 This ideological proclamation also led to the adoption of Serbo-Croatian as the language of Jewish politics in this part of the Balkans. It was a calculated and pragmatic choice. At the outset, Zionists, who were predominantly German speakers, realised that it would be difficult to have a common language with Sephardim, who were favouring their mother tongue djudeo or spanyol or the languages of the societies in which they lived, Bosnian and Serbian. In order to bridge these both ideological and practical issues, Zionists denounced German and Hungarian as languages of failed Jewish emancipation in Austro-Hungary and opted for the language of the South Slavic peoples as the language of the Zionist programme in the Balkans.Footnote 45 These complex cultural changes shaped the political scene of Jews in the Yugoslav kingdom but allowed them to be Jews while also being Yugoslav.
In the end, the nuanced and pro-Yugoslav sentiment of Zionist positioning held little significance to the Yugoslav state in the inter-war period, which was very sensitive to all political activities. The state formally recognised and backed the central Zionist line, mirroring Serbia’s support of the Balfour Declaration in 1917.Footnote 46 Despite the official support, Zionist circles were associated with ‘extreme Jewish circles’, while the key individuals among the Zionists in Yugoslavia were seen as supporters of ‘an extreme leftist organisation’.Footnote 47 While the authorities were particularly suspicious towards masonry lodgers, both right and left Zionist organisations also attracted their attention equally. The right-wing organisation Betar, inspired by Jabotinsky, consisted of Zionists focused on colonisation, with little regard for class struggle, dedicated to establishing a Jewish state in Palestine and fighting antisemitism.Footnote 48 Betar also operated in Yugoslavia, specifically in Zagreb, uniting Jews against antisemitism. Geza B., who was a Betar member in inter-war Zagreb, spoke about the presence of antisemitism in the Yugoslav state and asserted: ‘[…] if you were at all intelligent, you had to be political’.Footnote 49 Even if Betar’s membership was not as significant in number, the state carefully followed their work. Generally speaking, the police’s interest in Jewish political circles appears to have mirrored the overall increase in political suppression in the state, particularly after the 1929 coup and into the 1930s.Footnote 50
The left Zionist groups, comprising most of the political organisations, experienced identical treatment. Poale Zion (Workers of Zion; Poale Cion in Serbo-Croatian spelling) led the way among them as the organisation of Jewish workers active in Yugoslavia. The Poale Zion movement originated in the Russian empire, when in 1906 a group of Jewish workers disagreed with the abandonment by the Bund (General Jewish Labour Bund), the main Jewish workers’ organisation, of the Zionist project of building a Jewish state in Palestine.Footnote 51 Poale Zion was at the height of its popularity immediately after the First World War, when they simultaneously agitated for workers’ rights in the Jewish diaspora and supported the development of Yishuv.Footnote 52 In inter-war Vienna, membership in Poale Zion also implied secularism and offered Jewish youth a certain distance from the traditional background of their ancestors.Footnote 53 In Yugoslavia, the local organisation followed a similar programme. Many of its members were involved with the banned Communist Party of Yugoslavia (Komunistička partija Jugoslavije, KPJ). For this reason, the 1925 anti-communist purges also had a detrimental impact on Poale Zion, weakening the organisation. Due to this, historians have grouped Poale Zion and other left Zionist organisations as closely linked with the KPJ.Footnote 54
Still, Jewish left thought and methods of organising have left traces across the state, especially among youth. Numerous supporters of Poale Zion had their origins in Hashomer Hatzair (Guardians of Zion, or Hašomer Hacair in Serbo-Croatian transliteration). Dating back to 1916 Austro-Hungarian Galicia, this association was structured after the Polish Scouts. As a result, it mainly encouraged participation in sport, hiking and scouting to connect young Jews with nature, imbue them with a sense of responsibility and discipline and harden their physiques.Footnote 55 On a global level, the organisation was dedicated to building kibbutzim in the Yishuv, and, for instance, its work resulted in the creation of Shaar Hamakim, a shared Yugoslav–Romanian kibbutz.Footnote 56
Hashomer Hatzair considered itself a movement focused on education.Footnote 57 The members usually joined at early age. Anica D., who participated in NOB 1943–4, for instance, became a member of Hashomer Hatzair in Sarajevo at the age of seven or eight in 1931/2 and made friends who were important to her throughout her life.Footnote 58 Anica D. believed she became a dedicated Zionist with a desire to emigrate to Palestine already in her teens. When her father could not afford the necessary and costly certificate for emigration to British Palestine, she was significantly dispirited.Footnote 59 Moreover, the organisation’s dual focus promoted socialisation and acquisition of practical skills for survival and work in kibbutz through organised youth camps. Throughout the year they were organised in units (kvutzot) and followed a leader (menachel). In this closely knit social setting, the youths were urged to excel in their studies and pursue additional education. The emphasis on fostering relationships and educating Jewish youth could be seen as what catapulted Hashomer Hatzair to become the most impactful political group, while also evading the government’s radar.
Aligning with the left facilitated engagement with broader political topics. For instance, progressive left literature was instrumental in shaping the political consciousness of the Hashomer Hatzair members. Anica D. remembered how the members were avid readers and always urged to interact with progressive literature.Footnote 60 The central organ of Yugoslav Hashomer Hatzair booklet emphasised the value of reading and underlined that ‘[T]he one who reads good books has no time for worthless literature’.Footnote 61 This manual from 1932 also highlighted the significance of ‘Jewish belles lettres’ (jevrejska beletristika)Footnote 62 for every member (shomer). Anica D.’s menachel took on as his duty to introduce his kvutza to the life of Jews in the Soviet Union, and she particularly stressed her awareness of the Jewish colony in Birobidzhan. Armando Moreno, a member in Belgrade, stated that the majority of the Jewish progressive youth went through Hashomer Hatzair. In his opinion, the members of his kena (nest) were not merely formed in the spirit of supporting and developing Palestine. Rather, they were brought up with the ‘Marxist classics that the Jewish socialist youth recognised as their own ideological guideposts’.Footnote 63 Salamon R., a member of Hashomer Hatzair in Sarajevo, has also mentioned that members shared progressive literature among themselves.Footnote 64
Matatja, an important organisation directed towards Jewish workers, also offered political education in the same vein. Matatja thrived in 1926 Sarajevo after the purges that crippled Poale Zion. Initially, Matatja’s ideology aligned with the mainstream of Jewish political organisations of Zionist orientation.Footnote 65 However, it ignited particular cultural and political dialogues among the Sephardim, especially prominent in Sarajevo in the late 1920s.Footnote 66 The society’s main objective was to unite and educate Jewish workers or, in the words of devoted member Moni Finci (1914–1984), ‘[to] educate and culturally uplift the working youth and explain its [working youth’s] position in light of scientific socialism, or Marxism’. Matatja adopted analogous strategies to Hashomer Hatzair, directing its members towards reading. Finci recalled that he dedicated his time to ‘reading progressive literature, studying the basics of Marxism, the Jewish question and similar [topics]’.Footnote 67 Matatja in Sarajevo embodied the merging of Jewish labour and progressive ideas.
The organisation’s initial focus was on addressing the late 1920s economic crisis, particularly the increasing unemployment.Footnote 68 Additionally, they reacted to the rise of fascism in Yugoslavia and abroad. In 1936 Matatja put on a play Živi zid (The Living Wall) about Hitler’s regime, a move that attracted attention from the public, and from 1936 Matatja also suffered greatly from purges: its members ended up in prison or even died under unclear circumstances.Footnote 69 Unlike Poale Zion and Hashomer Hatzair, which were involved in Jewish communal life in Sarajevo without advocating for Jewish political interests in Yugoslav society, Matatja was active in broader political circles that included non-Jews as well. Through their unique blend of Zionism, Sephardi-centred and progressive thought and openness to the wider society, the Jewish workers’ society in Sarajevo reshaped the Jewish political environment.Footnote 70
It is therefore not surprising that some of its members, such as Moni Levi (1896–1986), were also affiliated with the Communist Party.Footnote 71 Historians have taken these exceptional cases as a rule and therefore proclaimed Matatja as merely a ‘cell of the Communist Party’.Footnote 72 On the other hand, Anica D. explained that the goal of Zionist youth was to leave for Palestine. She added: ‘We were formed in this classless environment, so to speak … KPJ was close. Ideologically different, but close’.Footnote 73 This shared ground, however, did not mean that the work of all left Jewish organisations and active communists merged or even overlapped.
It is impossible to accurately quantify the involvement of Jews in the Communist Party of Yugoslavia because it was outlawed in 1921 and did not maintain detailed membership rosters.Footnote 74 Jaša Romano aimed to compile a comprehensive list of all Jewish individuals involved with the resistance movement and the party. Compared to the minute size of the Jewish community in the country, the support the party gained was notable.Footnote 75 However, while the party presented egalitarian, inclusive and defiantly anti-religious postulates, the Jewish press, publications, memoirs and other self-published texts, along with the survivors’ testimonies, paint a picture of a complex, internal Jewish conversation, connections and negotiations within and beyond the party organisation.
The Communist Party did not have a targeted programme for Jews and considered antisemitism as a foreign import. Consequently, there was no ideological stand that would make the KPJ a refuge for Jews as Jews prior to the war.Footnote 76 The regional body of the KPJ in Dalmatia, however, openly and adamantly denounced the antisemitism of fascists and their collaborators in late summer 1941.Footnote 77 As Emil Kerenji demonstrated, an important and unequivocal stand against the genocide of Jews had a rather ideological value and served as part of the party’s construction of the ‘brotherhood and unity’ of all nations and ethnicities that the communists were hoping to engage in their fight against fascists and in the building of a new society after the war.Footnote 78
Still, communists found backing among politically engaged Jewish youth. Those who rejected Zionism, including groups on the left such as Hashomer Hatzair, did so deliberately. One of these was Sida S. Born in 1921 into an upper-class family with a father who owned an esteemed Elegant hat and accessories factory in Sarajevo, Sida testified that she was among the youngest members of her generation in Hashomer Hatzair in Sarajevo. Following her family’s move to Belgrade in 1934, she briefly became part of the movement there. She and her entire kvutza left Hashomer Hatzair to become involved with what she referred to as ‘the high school movement’ (srednjoškolski pokret). This was an undefined group faction of young leftists who led a series of protests in Belgrade in the wake of the proclamation of King Aleksandar’s dictatorship in January 1929. Instead of confronting the illegality of left politics head-on, students chose to protest in favour of university autonomy, against the rise of fascism and for peace.Footnote 79 The movement gained traction among high school students in 1936–7, primarily due to the influence of university students sympathetic to communism. In early 1941, approximately 2,800 high school students were involved in the party, with 800–900 members of the communist youth (Savez komunističke omladine, SKOJ).Footnote 80 Therefore, there was a broader shift of youth, which is also symptomatic of departure from Hashomer Hatzair, that was ideological or, in Sida S.’s words: ‘Simply, we were left-oriented, we were more internationalists than nationalists’.Footnote 81 Together with her sister Ina and their friends, Luna Koen and Belina Graziani, she actively participated in the protests. She watched as each of her friends was expelled from their high school in the heart of Belgrade. The youngest, Graziani, was sent to prison at the age of thirteen. Sida S. persisted in stirring things up at school, maintaining connections with individuals and continuing to ‘cultivate’ young girls, in her own words.
While not everyone was involved in leftist groups, a significant number of Jews knew someone involved with the KPJ. Sida S. had two sisters who were also engaged in the party’s work. Three of them, Danon sisters, may have been influenced by the fact that their cousin, Cadik Danon, was an active communist before them.Footnote 82 It would not be the only case of a family connection within the KPJ: Josif P.’s sister ‘was engaged in politics’ (bavila se politikom). Their home in Makarska, near Split, was used as a mail drop for correspondence from Spain during the height of the civil war in 1936.Footnote 83 Salamon Pinto from Zenica, in central Bosnia, had a brother Hajim who was captured by Ustaša, a Croatian extreme nationalist group with antisemitic, anti-Serb and anti-Roma ideologies, which aligned with Nazis and took control over the Independent State of Croatia in April 1941.Footnote 84 As a communist, Hajim was subjected to torture and transported to the death camp Jasenovac.Footnote 85 Josip P. revealed that his cousin and Moni Levi were close friends, when the latter was already a known communist. Acting on Moni Levi’s suggestion, Josip decided to leave Derventa and head to Split, which was under Italian control.Footnote 86 Personal connections were pivotal in shaping the decisions taken at the onset of the war.
As showcased, making up less than 1 per cent of the Yugoslav population did not hinder Jews’ political activism. Most politically active Jews in Yugoslavia encountered similar difficulties. On the one hand, the state was suspicious and enforced a surveillance system on Jewish nationals, especially those affiliated with Zionist groups, as well as progressive youth. On the other hand, Jewish individuals involved in in the Communist Party of Yugoslavia experienced the same mistreatment as other members of the Party. As a result, the top two political factions for Jews in inter-war Yugoslavia demanded unwavering allegiance and ultimately become a threat to Jews. This precarious political situation fostered networks of politically active individuals, underground organisations and different social structures that offered relief, support and means of resistance during the war.
‘United Rhythm against Violence’: Resistance to Fascist Occupation in Dalmatia, 1941–3
South/southwest: this was the route many Jews from Yugoslavia took after the unannounced attack on 6 April 1941 and the subsequent occupation of Yugoslavia by Axis powers. Aleksandar Demajo, together with his father, left Belgrade for Greece, but the Bulgarian occupation prevented them from reaching their destination. They instead turned east, towards Bosnia, on their way to Montenegro, occupied by Italian forces. Aleksandar L., also from Belgrade, was also aware that Albania or Dalmatia were the best options for immediate shelter.Footnote 87 Already in the first months of the war in the Balkans, the Adriatic was a known as a refuge.
As Spartaco Capogreco pointed out, Jewish survival in Dalmatia would not have been possible outside the complex geopolitical situation of this region. Namely, the conflicts between the Ustaša and Italian fascists and Mussolini’s attempts to gain leverage in his complicated relationship with Nazi Germany.Footnote 88 Still, all Axis powers and their collaborators were meticulous in application of their racist policies: in Independent State of Croatia (Nezavisna Država Hrvatska, NDH), they introduced restrictive policies targeting Serbs, Jews and Sinti Roma; in occupied Serbia the main enemies were Jews and Sinti Roma.Footnote 89 In contrast to other Axis powers, Italian occupation policies towards Jews were often a reaction, ‘a bargaining tool’ Rome used to discuss its own political status with Nazi Germany.Footnote 90 This constant negotiation of Jews’ position in the Italian-occupied territories opened space for the mobilisation of locals and refugees in Dalmatia by early summer 1941.
Building on kehilot and social organisations, the history of Jewish resistance in Dalmatia in fact starts with the arrival of Jewish refugees from Central Europe in the early 1930s. Jewish refugees from Germany arrived in the Yugoslav kingdom starting in 1933. However, it was only after the Nazi occupation of Austria in 1938 that they sought to establish a specific communal organisation to help with their support and immigration. During this time, a considerable number of refugees were welcomed in Adriatic ports, particularly Split (Spalato) and Dubrovnik (Ragusa).Footnote 91, Footnote 92 These cities were attractive to Jews from Central Europe because they offered the opportunity for further emigration and also because of their well-established Jewish communities. This is one of the main reasons why Split and Dubrovnik were so crucial for political mobilisation compared to two neighbouring Italian provinces, Zadar (Zara) and Kotor (Cattaro).Footnote 93
On the eve of the occupation, the solidarity networks were raised on another level. Dalmatia had one of the most porous borders, making it easier to pass through with false documents or bribes.Footnote 94 In response to the arrival of refugees, Dubrovnik’s kehila created a social fund and asked each member of the community for a donation.Footnote 95 By the summer of 1941, Split, a city with a population of around 40,000,Footnote 96 received 8,000 exiles, with 3,000 being Jews.Footnote 97 Despite the Jewish community’s small size of 300 members, they were dedicated to aiding those in need. They leveraged existing organisations like the youth group Jarden and established the Jewish Emigration Board (Židovski izbjeglički odbor). The Board grew from the existing communal associations and well-connected individuals from the inter-war period until autumn 1943, when the Nazis occupied former Italian territories in Dalmatia.
Since the late 1920s, Split’s Jewish community has maintained close contact with the
first Italian organisation that provided help for Jews aiming to emigrate to Palestine in the 1920s, Italian Committee for Assistance to Jewish Emigrants (Comitato Italiano di Assistenza agli Emigrant Ebrei).Footnote 98 In December 1939, Mussolini disbanded the committee and the Union of Italian Jewish Communities, the umbrella organisation of Italian Jewry. In response, they formed Delegazione Assistenza Emigranti e Profughi Ebrei, shortened to Delasem, in November 1939. Delasem became the primary support system for Italian Jews, Jews in the Italian-occupied territories and finally the entire Mediterranean until September 1943 and the Nazi occupation of Italy.
Split’s Jewish Refugee Board and Delasem shared a similar structure. Both operated within their Jewish communities and were overseen by their representatives. Viktor Morpurgo served as the president of the community in Split while Velio Valdobra was the vice president of the Unione ebraicha. They offered administrative and legal assistance in obtaining emigration documents, provided financial aid to those in greatest need and coordinated relief funds and social and cultural activities. Moreover, these humanitarian organisations carried on with their work as international charity entities, in a manner reminiscent of pre-modern Jewish charitable organisations.Footnote 99
The Board’s significance only grew after the occupation of Yugoslavia and annexation of Dalmatia to the Kingdom of Italy in April 1941. At this point, the Jewish community in Split diligently assisted the continuously growing number of Jewish refugees in the town, its vicinity and ultimately all Italian-occupied territories between Fiume and Dubrovnik. The type of the assistance the Board and community in Split provided was twofold. First, the communal organs offered and organised relief in the form of help with immigration, food donations and accommodation. In Split, refugees slept in the office space of the community.Footnote 100 Furthermore, they supplied a designated living allowance, supported by international Jewish relief groups such as the American Jewish Distribution Committee and HICEM, and dispersed through Delasem. Additionally, the Board often provided information about refugees’ family members who stayed behindFootnote 101 and also organised transport of children to mainland Italy.Footnote 102
Second, the community informally provided guidance to refugees on how they could enhance their situation. Viktor Morpurgo was known for his relentless work for the aid of refugees; as the head of both the Jewish community and the Board, he also received audiences. Josip P. testified on his two meetings with Morpurgo; during the first he was advised to discard his personal documents and IDs and apply for the Italian ID (carta d’identità) as a Jewish immigrant.Footnote 103 All in all, the Board’s actions were clandestine, a common criterion for resistance, even if they relied primarily on dogmatic adherence to the law and apolitical behaviour. This reflected the Board’s aim ‘to prevail, with an adaption, not revolt’, in line with Poznanski’s concept of ‘humanitarian resistance’.Footnote 104 Still, the chair of the Board and the president of the community were against joining the resistance movement, which we learn from Josip P.’s testimony.
Josip P. showcases the options available to refugees in Split. He escaped the Ustaša terror in Derventa (today Bosnia and Herzegovina) in late spring 1941 and reached Split. Upon his arrival he did not apply for the allowance administered through the Jewish community as he intended to find work. Even though the refugees did not have the right to work, he managed to develop a small enterprise, selling spices such as paprika and pepper door to door.Footnote 105 Morpurgo still advised Josip P. to accept the financial support and expressed his fear that Pesah could come under the influence of communists in the city.Footnote 106 There was not much Morpurgo could do – Split was already a stronghold of the Communist Party and it attracted youth, locals and refugees alike.
Indeed, Split was a major centre for Communist Party activism against the fascist occupiers, with a focus on the youth branch (Federation of Communist Youth of Yugoslavia, SKOJ). Dalmatia was the centre of the Party’s work – in the late 1920s, out of 1,400 registered SKOJ members in the whole of Yugoslavia, over half were active in Dalmatia.Footnote 107 Josip Papo, born in neighbouring Makarska in 1923, recalled that his first contact with the ‘progressive youth’ was in Split.Footnote 108
Despite the fact that the state had officially banned the Communist Party in 1929, the party had a strong presence in Dalmatia. Both international politics and internal affairs fostered its growth. The former came through the looming threat of Italian occupation and was intensified after the Nettuno conventions in 1925, which gave Italian commercial interests a privileged position in Yugoslavia. Finally, as a town of port, construction and manual workers, the Communist Party had a natural seat in Split. Dalmatia had a strong, almost independent party centre in the Regional Committee for Dalmatia (Pokrajinski komitet za Dalmaciju), often in conflict with the central leadership throughout the 1930s.Footnote 109 In December 1934, the party counted 300 members in Dalmatia.Footnote 110 Mostly workers, the supporters were also agile during crucial moments, and the party has successfully organised or supported a series of strikes in Dalmatia, reaching its pre-war peak in the general strikes in Split in December 1939 and October 1940. Besides opposing the high cost of living, the protests were also a public outcry against exporting food to fascist states, effectively supporting those countries. Following the signing of the treaty between the Yugoslav government and the Axis powers on 25 March 1941, protests erupted in Split and all major cities in the country.Footnote 111 Already in April 1941,Footnote 112 months before the general uprising (which started only after 21 June), the local party’s bodies secretly organised military preparations in private flats, cellars or vineyards around Split and finally formed the First Split Fighting Unit (Prvi splitski borbeni odred). Moreover, they readied weapons and food provisions for the imminent military rebellion and coordinated minor operations like planning assaults on local fascists. Alongside preparations for the uprising, the party organised People’s Aid (Narodna pomoć) to gather contributions for families impacted by fascism.Footnote 113 Cadik Danon summarised it by saying: ‘In 1941, Split breathed in a unison rhythm against aggression’ (‘Te 1941. Split je disao jedinstvenim ritmom protiv nasilja’).Footnote 114
This setting brought out politically active Jews. Local Jews were the trailblazers in organising: as per the accounts of survivors, it was reported that Zionist youth, particularly members of Hašomer Hacair, participated in illegal activities.Footnote 115 Among Split’s Jews active in the organisation of resistance were Vili Švarc-Šimunov, Aron M. Danon and Izidor A. Finci. Among the organisers of the resistance were old party members who were sent to the area from Croatia or Bosnia and Herzegovina, such as Andrija Remenji, Pavle Pap, a member of the Central Committee who arrived in Split in August 1941, Leo Geršković, who led illegal political courses for communist youth (SKOJ) and edited Naš Život, Josip-Pepo Polak from Zagreb and Eli Finci from Sarajevo. The party members who made it to Split from NDH included Lavoslav Kraus from Osijek, Lea Remenji-Pinto and Mile Ljubičić from Zagreb, Milan and Paula Zon from Sarajevo, Avram J. Altarac from Travnik and Bukica Levi from Belgrade.Footnote 116
The integration of Jewish refugees into the resistance in Dalmatia happened swiftly, even if the party members complained that refugees in general were ‘passive, peaceful and even compromise-ready’ towards the Italian occupiers.Footnote 117 Party intermediaries reached out to individuals, leading to the expansion of the resistance network. The intermediaries could be non-Jewish but, more often than not, were Jewish: Sara S., upon her arrival to Kaštel Lukšić (19 km from Split), got in touch with the resistance through her cousin Rea Ašerović, who was part of the movement alongside her boyfriend.Footnote 118 Josip P. started working for the resistance under a certain Božidar Ćulić and continued working under Josif Elazar, a Jew from Doboj (Bosnia). Initially, the newcomers propagated the resistance’s messages. Josip P. was tasked with responding to the occupier graffiti proclaiming their triumph with vinceremo (we will win) with vedremo (we will see).Footnote 119 His other duties included collecting donations and obtaining intel. For instance, working as a travelling salesman for a liqueur factory, Josip P. reported on military structures and warehouses. The goal was merely to highlight the spiritual opposition, inform the city residents about the resistance and gather intelligence about the occupiers.
Official members of the KPJ had more dangerous tasks. Andrija Remenji and his wife Lea Remenji-Pinto were involved in a bomb attack on a group of carabinieri.Footnote 120 Meanwhile, Sarajevo publicist Eli Finci clandestinely edited an anti-occupation journal called Naš izvještaj (Our Report). The printing press was in the flat of the communal cantor Cadik Danon. He also took on the responsibility of nursing a wounded partisan soldier back to health in the same flat, putting his own life at risk for several weeks. Another member of the Jewish community, Dr Silvio Altaras, offered medical help. Danon facilitated the partisan in obtaining an ID card through the Jewish community for medical treatment at a hospital.Footnote 121 His final directive before being captured was to disseminate information about NOB in Dalmatia.Footnote 122 Even without official involvement, it is evident that the kehilot leader was informed about the level of resistance among the members.
The dangers of engaging with the resistance cannot be overstated. Due to the deep-rooted bias against the SlavsFootnote 123 and the common belief that only a firm hand could govern them,Footnote 124 it is not surprising that Italians quickly implemented harsh penalties for anyone linked to anti-fascist activities during their early rule. As the anti-fascist rebellion kicked off on 22 June 1941, right after the German operation Barbarossa commenced against the Soviet Union, the fascists exploited the timing of both events to rationalise harsh actions against the rebels labelled as communists.Footnote 125 Initially, the military conducted arrests of individuals, followed by groups. By mid-August 1941, the scale of the arrests was so vast that all Dalmatian prisons were overcrowded. Captured rebels were tortured in the course of interrogations and then detained in prisons where they waited to be transferred to internment camps or the so-called free confinement (libero confino).Footnote 126 C. Cadik Danon recounted the recurring beatings and psychological torment he endured following his apprehension in late April 1942. In his words: ‘They [Italians] threatened to deport me to Croatia and hand me over to Ustasha if I didn’t confess to the accusations against me’.Footnote 127
Another method used to control Jewish refugees was limiting their movement; by the summer of 1941, they were required to remain in camps or confino libero along the Adriatic coast.Footnote 128 Some refugees were able to make their way to Italy proper, through connections or paying bribes. There, they normally lived in confino libero.Footnote 129 In Split specifically, after the uprising began, the Italian administration claimed there was a shortage of accommodation and food and interned foreign Jews on nearby islands in August and September 1941.Footnote 130 Approximately 700 individuals were sent to Korčula (Curzola), 400 to the town of Korčula and 300 to Vela Luka. The island became part of the Italian kingdom through annexation. Additionally, Italians set up camps on islands such as Brač (Brazza) (in villages Supetar, Milna, Nerežić and Sumartin), Mljet and Hvar, all of which were considered NDH territories but under Italian military control. Dubrovnik saw a similar situation with the Italian administration refugees from Split. However, in contrast to Split, where some refugees remained until the summer of 1943, Dubrovnik served as a brief stop for most exiles. The majority of them remained in the town until the start of November 1941, at which point they were deported and placed in concentration camps on the islands of Lopud, Kupari and Gruž.Footnote 131 A form of social organisation existed in all camps with an aim to offer a cultural and educational programme. In Kupari, the internees took the initiative to establish the first four grades of an elementary school and a kindergarten.Footnote 132 At the same time, political organisations were starting to emerge within the camps.
Islands rarely had permanent Jewish residents. Korčula, located south-west of Split, is an exception to the rule. Hachshara, a Jewish fishing training school, was established in the town of Vela Luka, where it accommodated thirty to forty young men and women until the war. During the occupation and breakup of Yugoslavia, these young people were left stranded on the island under Axis control.Footnote 133 Among them were Central European Jews who had fled Nazi persecution in the 1930s, hoping to find a sanctuary.Footnote 134 They were in luck, at least at first, since Korčula was annexed to the Italian kingdom as Curzola, while other mid-Dalmatian islands were under NDH civil and Italian military rule. The small town of Vela Luka, with approximately 4,000 inhabitants, became home to a growing group of Yugoslav Jewish youth and refugees.
Vela Luka became a sort of a hub for Jewish social and political activities. Majer A. (Sarajevo, 1915–?) recalled that it was Kučo Alkalaj, a Jew in a good standing from Belgrade, who proposed to the authorities to confine Jews on the island and who rented a hotel for their housing. They established a cooperative community (zadruga) where they resided, managed meal preparation and food distribution and also socialised as a group. Meanwhile, the island served as a safe haven for those evading the Italian authorities for their political views, such as Enriko J. (1924–2003), who escaped Split to avoid a life sentence he received for participating in demonstrations against Mussolini in late June 1941.Footnote 135
Not only did this group of several hundred refugees establish a communal social and cultural life, but they also formed a political community. However, after Kučo Alkalaj’s family and other wealthier families departed for Italy in 1941, the hotel was closed down and the remaining residents had to stay with local families. With the Italian state only providing 20 g of bread daily, they had to establish a menza (canteen) to ensure their survival. In Italian camps, there was a widespread practice of organising food preparation and enhancing provisions. Chiara Renzo highlighted the efforts of philanthropic groups, both Italian and international, that focused on improving living conditions in camps by ensuring a better food supply.Footnote 136 This emphasis on food supplies was especially crucial in island camps where options were limited. In Vela Luka, where the social standing of refugees was inferior to that of their brethren in neighbouring towns on Korčula, they organised food distribution in the former Hachshara house. On Lopud, one of the two camps formed in the vicinity of Dubrovnik, Anica D. recalled that wealthier Jews made larger donations to the canteen.Footnote 137
Although menza may seem like just one among many charitable organisations, the tradition of menza had deep political roots.Footnote 138 Throughout Central Europe, once Jews gained access to universities, organising their meals became a way to foster religious habits and social cohesion. Furthermore, in the 1920s, menza evolved into a political battleground where various political factions vied for control. For example, in 1931 in Zagreb, a group of students with left-leaning ideologies assumed leadership from Zionists.Footnote 139
In Dalmatia, during the war, menza also served for political mobilisation. It provided representation in the face of Italian authorities. In Vela Luka, menza representative Hajnrih Levi forged ties with the carabinier, thanks to his proficient Italian. Nevertheless, Majer A. asserts that Levi’s trustworthiness diminished once he began abusing his authority, particularly with regard to distributing food supplies. This incited three youth members of the canteen, Moca A., Albert A. and Majer A., to speak out against his leadership. Italian authorities quickly intervened after Hajrih Levi portrayed the situation as not just a personal attack but also a rebellion, with the aim of having the defiant young people detained. As a result, he no longer had the camp’s backing, allowing Majer A. to step in as the new representative.Footnote 140 In that, membership of the menza implied structure, cooperation and solidarity, and it was indeed a political organisation.
Working in the communal kitchen and for the menza allowed individuals in the camps to establish connections outside the camp environment. In the camp Kupari near Dubrovnik, Salamon Pinto was part of a kitchen crew that included three other prisoners. He was responsible for bringing food to a Czech couple, electrician Kabliček and his wife. Through their daily interaction, Pinto discovered that both of them held strong anti-fascist views. Moreover, he learned that they had a radio that they used to listen to the Voice of America and the BBC. Kabliček’s wife began jotting down the news, which Pinto then carried to the camp in repurposed food containers.Footnote 141 This example shows how menza could blur the boundaries between social and humanitarian resistance and political; it demonstrates how organisations could spark resistance when conditions permitted.
Joining the military resistance led by the Communist Party was another way Jews in occupied Dalmatia organised themselves. Vela Luka again serves as the prime example of Jewish refugees reaching out to partisans. As mentioned, in summer 1941, Enriko J. fled to the town to escape the death penalty. His friend, Zvonko Letica, son of a well-known dentist and hotelier, provided assistance.Footnote 142 Moreover, Letica was part of a group of young activists who raided the Italian military Forteca (Fortezza) in 1941, stealing valuable equipment that was later given to partisan units on the island.Footnote 143 Aleksandar Mošić wrote about fifteen members of Hachshara, the Jewish fishing school, and a certain number of local youths who, in light of the spreading of the anti-fascist resistance, went ‘to the woods’, an expression used to signify entering the armed resistance.Footnote 144 This attempt was followed by a reprisal from the Italian authorities, who arrested a group of island youth in March and in June shot thirteen of them, including three Jews: Leon Romano, Isak Kabiljo and Avram Romano. Moreover, Sergeant Roncorni (Ronkorni) took other Jews as hostages in order to prevent more from joining the partisans.Footnote 145
Ultimately, the emergence of KPJ cells in camps reflects a significant political and ideological alignment that proved crucial during the final phase of Italian occupation. There was no sudden recruitment push for the party; instead, existing members were gradually assessed and incorporated into the existing party cells. Ewald (Branko) Erlih, a mining engineer from Mostar,Footnote 146 and Viktor, a tailor from Dubrovnik, teamed up to form a party unit in Kupari. David Dača Kabiljo, who was also held in Kupari, recalled how Erlih came up to him after fostering acquaintance for some time. Their everyday chats frequently revolved around the partisan clashes in the Montenegrin hills, so close by that the sound of cannon fire could be heard in their vicinity. On one occasion, Erlih asked Kabiljo about his opinion on ‘active struggle against the occupier and domestic traitor’ and whether he supported the resistance movement.Footnote 147 Kabiljo’s avowal of his anti-fascist beliefs led to his inclusion in the party. Their collaboration continued to strengthen during the war, with Erlih, Hajon and Kabiljo taking charge of the Jewish battalion on Rab in the early autumn of 1943, and later engaging in the NOB.Footnote 148 At the camp on Rab, Jews from Dalmatian camps encountered Jews who resided in other Italian-occupied areas. They all arrived in November 1942. Among them were Jews who sought shelter in the Croatian littoral, specifically in locations like Crikvenica, Kraljevica, Novi Vinodolski, Senj, Skrad and Moravice.Footnote 149
The camp in the small town in Kampor on Rab had already been running for a year by the time the Jews from Dalmatia arrived. Established in March 1942, the camp was originally intended for families of Slovene resistance fighters.Footnote 150 It exemplified the brutality of the fascist regime. During the period from spring 1942 to autumn 1943, a total of 10,000 were interned, consisting of 7,541 Slovenians and Croatians and others, as well as 2,761 Jews.Footnote 151 Thousands of people, women, children and elderly included, lived in inhumane conditions: lack of food, drinking water and hygiene facilities, all of which supported the spread of untreated infectious illnesses and finally caused the death of every ninth prisoner, in total around 1,300 people.Footnote 152 The extreme conditions did not impede but rather encouraged political organisation among inmates, centred mainly on the Communist Party and Oslobodilna Fronta, a Slovenian anti-fascist organisation. In September 1942, inmates Jože Jurančić, Alojz Kukovec, Janez Lajevec and others formed a committee of the Communist Party of Slovenia. In January 1943, they also formed a committee of Oslobodilna Fronta.Footnote 153 Their objective was to awaken and bolster the spirit of resistance and be ready to overthrow the fascist regime at the first opportunity.Footnote 154
Jews were excluded from this planned upheaval. Upon their arrival to Kampor in November 1942, the Italian authorities placed them in a secluded camp and banned all communication between the Slovenian and Croatian camp and the Jewish camp. Once again, menza proved to be essential; Salamon Pinto only learned about the Slovenian camp when he left the Jewish camp to collect food.Footnote 155 In addition, Jews established their own political groups soon after the occupation started: in Kraljevica they even had a Communist Party organisation while other camps had contact with NOP. Due to the slight restrictions, Jews finally had increased freedom of movement, allowing them to acquire a typewriter, radio and a basic copying machine.Footnote 156 Following Mussolini’s downfall on 8 September, Jewish, Slovenian and Croatian inmates collaborated to assume control of the camp. The evacuation of all inmates from Rab began on 10 September, led by the KPJ leadership – the most significant effort to save Jews during the Second World War. Approximately 2,000 Jews were moved to inland Croatia, with many of them participating in the armed resistance, first as members of the Jewish battalion formed in Kampor immediately after the takeover and soon after in different units of the People’s Liberation ArmyFootnote 157 – as was widely recognised and celebrated in the communal circles and at the state level during the communist era. Out of the 500 Jews who chose to stay on the island, around 300 were able to escape to mainland Italy and continue with their emigration, while the remaining 200 were captured by the German army upon their arrival in March 1944. The greater part of the latter group lost their lives in the concentration camp Birkenau.Footnote 158
Conclusion
It was an ongoing struggle – this is the gist of the seemingly casual remarks of the wartime but also inter-war Jewish political activists and fighters in the anti-fascist movement, such as Viktor Hajon and Ela V. However, they demonstrate an understanding of the historical roots of Jewish struggle that led to their political engagement and, ultimately, their ‘self-liberation’, as Geza B. put it. The aim was to understand Jewish political involvement during the Second World War in relation to the political culture on a general or European, state or Yugoslav, or communal (kehilot) and local level in the first half of the twentieth century. The analysis of the sources indicated that Jews who resisted the fascist and Axis alliance were often involved in all three dimensions of Jewish political engagement. This participation brought about awareness and connections, and eventually established a comprehensive Jewish network that facilitated their survival.
The significance and essential nature of this social network cannot be overstated. The article highlights how the Jewish arrivals in Italian-occupied Dalmatia played a vital role in forming a safety net for the most vulnerable Jewish refugees. Personal ties, especially within families, were crucial, along with general solidarity. Institutions born out of pure necessity, like the menza, evolved into crucial pillars of organisation and liberation.
Yet, it remains highly relevant to mention the genesis of ideological positioning that influenced the direction of Jewish politics. Participation in Jewish political organisation from a young age was a means of belonging and constructing a Jewish-specific political environment in the Yugoslav kingdom, as well as in other parts of Europe. Across the continent, state and region, Hashomer Hatzair and similar youth organisations educated generations of Jews and influenced political choices. In some cases like Sida S.’s, this resulted in their involvement in not exclusively Jewish political circles, and the left movement, politically educated Jewish youth were accustomed to state surveillance and exclusion from the social sphere. The Yugoslav regime strictly marginalised communists and Zionists, as well as Jewish associations such as Matatja. This shared experience only fostered cooperation between different Jewish and progressive movements in Yugoslavia. Furthermore, even those Jews who chose not to be a part of communist youth organisations grasped the relationship between all-Jewish positioning and communist internationalism before the war. Amidst these conditions that promoted cooperation, the two forged a seamless alliance that was ideologically supported by the KPJ’s formal recognition of the Jewish-specific position in the war. It did not just stay in words; the communist-led partisans in Dalmatia incorporated the liberation of Jews in their war aims. For decades, this coalition appeared to be born out of desperation, but this article reveals how Jewish political decisions over generations in the Yugoslav regions shaped this successful and inclusive history.
