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INTRODUCTION

THIS STUDY OF VLADIMIR JABOTINSKY IN RUSSIA, AND the Russian theme in Jabotinsky’s life and works, offers a portrait of the development of the Zionist leader from his beginnings as a young journalist in 1900 to the establishment of HaTzoHar (Brit Ha-Tsionim Ha-Revizionistim), the Revisionist party, in 1925. The name Jabotinsky has been mythologized in the Israeli political sphere—lionized on the right, demonized on the left—but here he is shown not as something finished and polished, but in development, changing, and becoming. My goal has been to sketch the contexts that shaped him, to show readers the discourses in which he participated and the politics in Russia that helped shape his views.

This story tracks Jabotinsky as a young man, an apprentice to Menachem Ussishkin and Avram Idel’son, and shows how he gradually gained confidence to chart his own path. The research collides with the myths of Jabotinsky as a born leader who emerged prepared and ready from the first moment to battle with the ossified Zionist leadership. Instead I found that Jabotinsky’s vaunted uniqueness and independence are relative, he weaved between cooperation with and rejection of his elder colleagues. The reader will discover that he learned from many people who left their stamp on his thoughts in ways large and small. Most of all, this book recovers the Russian Jabotinsky, who came of age in a specific time and place and, despite the physical disappearance of that original world (tsarist Russia), harkened back to it with unexpected frequency.

My choice of Jabotinsky was not random. In today’s Israel, followers of Jabotinsky cart his image around to legitimize a political and social platform—settlements in the West Bank, inequality of income, and an aggressive struggle with the Palestinians. The question of what Jabotinsky really stood for and how he came to be associated with the political right wing of Zionism—these are questions that still await an answer.

In my research I discovered a contradictory person, a fox who wanted, but failed, to become a hedgehog (to use Isaiah Berlin’s well-known dichotomy). But I also found a brilliant political tactician who played the weak hand of Zionism in the early twentieth century astoundingly well. Whatever one’s politics, it is undeniable that Jabotinsky made a successful career as a political leader with little in the way of connections or advantage. Much of what he attained was the result of relentless commitment and shrewd tactics. Although he found himself in a crowded race, he was not afraid of change or contradiction, and he had a gift for changing tactics and outwitting rivals. His rise was neither quick nor easy, but by the mid-1930s, he stood among Zionism’s top leaders, with Ben-Gurion and Chaim Weizmann.

Although he was the head of his party, HaTzoHar (Zionist Revisionists), one should ask what he really achieved, since he never became head of state or held operative political power. His outsize image deflates considerably when one compares him to Ben-Gurion, for example. At the same time, many have claimed that his struggles for Jewish sovereignty and Jewish dignity changed real people in innumerable ways.¹ He became a popular figure worldwide, but especially in Poland and Palestine in the mid- to late-1930s.

I became interested in this subject because I wanted to answer important questions. Was Jabotinsky a liberal posing as a reactionary, a reactionary with liberal residue, a democrat with dictatorial leanings, or a dictator with a nostalgia for democracy? I have tried to explain his zigzag trajectory by claiming that Jabotinsky should be understood as a political actor in the early decades of the twentieth century. In fact, we must connect Jabotinsky, and Zionism more generally, to the political history of that period, with its displays of power, political performances, cultural innovations, and emphasis on destruction of the old world. We should shift the focus from coincidence—Jabotinsky’s policies happen to share qualities with the radical right—to an acknowledgement that he consciously shaped his self-image and conceived his own trajectory.²

Jabotinsky’s right-wing politics stimulated my curiosity: how did the young man, a committed liberal, become associated with the political right? After dismissing the initial falsehood that antisemitism prevents Jews from supporting the political right, I wondered about Jabotinsky’s shift. When, where, and how did he move from the left of center, from liberalism, to militant Zionism, and almost Jewish fascism? What was the connection with his experience in Russia?

I discovered that he was strongly influenced by the Russian context. In “Reactionary,” an article from 1912, Jabotinsky confesses that he learned a great deal from Polish ethno-nationalists.³ While such extremists were intolerant, they nevertheless provided lessons in how to liberate one’s own nation from the yoke of another. In addition, Jewish weakness taught him lessons. To be a sovereign nation, one needs strength—an army prepared to use force—as well as a majority status in the population. Jabotinsky remembered these truths in his pronouncements about Jewish Palestine (“The Iron Wall” [1923]) while also expressing “liberal” principles, such as political autonomy for national minorities.

Jabotinsky differed in profound ways from Ben-Gurion and the Second Aliyah representatives in Palestine, so one naturally wonders what might explain the difference. It seems that Jabotinsky’s Zionism emerged from a different experience than Labor Zionism. Jabotinsky’s political views were bound up with a European urban cultural experience, not the pastoral dreams of the Second Aliyah. The additional years he spent in tsarist Russia inculcated a different position toward Palestine, British rule, and the Arabs; he took a tougher line on all three. By comparison, Second Aliyah members left Russia around 1905. Jabotinsky’s extra years in Russia affected who he became, because he saw the rise of nationalism throughout Europe.

Nonetheless, I show that Jabotinsky was not the embodiment of the statist idea (mamlachiut), as was Ben-Gurion. In fact, his pronouncements on the role of the state and minority rights come closer to Russian populism (belief in the Jewish people) or American-style civic engagement. He maintained that the Jewish right to Palestine would be secured on the basis of a Jewish majority, not absolute control over the state’s political apparatus. From this it followed that minority nations have certain rights and responsibilities. Since Jews were not a majority, and he accepted (at least potentially) the need for violence to attain his goals, Jabotinsky appears different, further to the political right, than the liberal that he imagined himself to be.

Moral questions also whetted my interest. Can Revisionist Zionism be morally defended? How? As I read and researched, I came to see that many of Jabotinsky’s pronouncements and attitudes seemed ethically questionable. However, the historical events of World War II and the Holocaust complicate judgments regarding Jabotinsky’s belligerence vis-à-vis the Palestinian Arabs. The fact that the world closed its doors to Jewish immigration in the 1930s, when Eastern European Jewry needed a refuge, and that England largely bowed to Arab wishes to halt Jewish immigration to Palestine, contributed to the deaths of many thousands.⁴ In a crisis like that unfolding in Europe of the 1930s, Jabotinsky’s struggle for open immigration to Palestine feels appropriate. Facing such a dilemma, how do moral experts distinguish right from wrong?

Posing the problem in such a way suggests a related question: were there other alternatives for Jews in Palestine besides building a nation state? Here, one should recall that Jabotinsky planned for Palestinian Arabs to remain in Eretz Yisrael, but under the condition that they were a minority. They would have civic rights, perhaps even national rights, but they would lack sovereignty. They would lose their former majority status and have a subordinate political position, though their lives might improve economically. Again, what would a moral philosopher say? Should such a fate be regarded as an earth-shattering tragedy for a people, or something less terrible? These turned out to be difficult questions.

In addition, the history of the period inspired me. Scholars have written so much about contemporary Zionism, but few delve into its origins in Russia. In fact, there are only a few reliable books about Russian Zionism, all written decades ago.⁵ Can we expand that knowledge by consulting new sources? Moreover, scholars of Jabotinsky usually focused on the later period of his political life (1925–1940), and neglected his development as a Zionist in Russia. Maybe they lacked Russian (Jabotinsky’s primary linguistic instrument) or knowledge of Russian culture. In any case, as someone who has been studying Russia for decades, I thought I could go deeper than the superficial platitudes about Russia that one hears repeated in any Jabotinsky biopic. It seemed worth remembering that Russia was one of the centers of European culture in the epoch before World War I. Russia was at the forefront in dance, music, poetry, and art. But what about politics? There, too, the revolutionary atmosphere produced a plethora of thinkers and theories. Jewish national life existed in the Russian Empire: the masses lived there; the rabbis, laymen, and women had created a Jewish civilization, with schools, synagogues, clubs, and organizations. It was a large, organized community, well aware of its potential and vulnerabilities. Indeed, all that was needed for the emergence of a national movement was a spark. Western education and acculturation, combined with an awareness of antisemitism, ignited it.

Jabotinsky’s Russia was very different from the Russia portrayed in Cold War propaganda and in Jewish religious sources. Russia acquainted Jabotinsky with writers from around the world—Shakespeare, Dante, Edgar Allen Poe, the Russian classic poets, Pushkin, Lermontov, Nekrasov, and many more. Jabotinsky himself was a writer of some repute, a poet of considerable talent. Russia was also the site of Russian-Jewish journalism, the home of Odesskie Novosti, Evreiskaia Zhizn’ (Rassvet), Russkie Vedomosti, and the other journals where Jabotinsky got a political education and learned the discourse of politics and Zionism. Russia was the home of fellow Zionists, friends and foes, with whom he became involved and from whom he learned a great deal. Any attempt to understand Jabotinsky without Russia will be futile.

The story of Jabotinsky’s development in Russia begins in Odessa, situated on the Black Sea. It was an ethnically mixed town populated primarily by Greeks, Italians, Ukrainians, Russians, and Jews. It boasted a rich cultural tapestry that included Western opera and literatures in Southern Russian dialect, Polish, Ukrainian, Yiddish, and Hebrew. The city’s Jews were involved in a variety of businesses—Jabotinsky’s father bought and sold grain. In a sense, Odessa represents a paradox. The city was a multilinguistic universe where religion was widely ignored; at same time, it was the leading center of Zionism and the revival of modern Hebrew—the home of Ahad-Ha’am, Moshe Leib Lilienblum, Yehoshua Ravnitsky, Semyon Dubnov, and Joseph Klausner.⁶ There was a sizeable Jewish intelligentsia involved in journalism, politics, and culture. Like many young people of the fin de siècle, Vladimir was not initially attracted to politics; his first love was literature. In his teens, he translated Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Raven” into Russian. Just before finishing high school, Jabotinsky left for Bern and then Rome, where he spent three years studying at the university, while supporting himself by writing for Odessa’s newspapers. In 1900, at age twenty, he returned to Odessa. That is where his life as a Zionist began.

In 1904, Jabotinsky moved to St. Petersburg, the capital city in the northwest. It was a very different place, with a smaller Jewish population due to special anti-Jewish restrictions. The Jews who had permission to live there—rich notables and highly educated professionals—gave Jabotinsky a perspective on class levels and power. Jabotinsky lived there illegally from 1904 to 1907, and during the critical Revolution of 1905 he wrote and edited Russia’s first Zionist newspaper in Russian, Rassvet (known also at times as Evreiskaia Zhizn’).

During this “Petersburg period,” Jabotinsky and other nonsocialist Zionists were drawn to Russian liberalism. He witnessed the rise of Russian and Polish nationalism, and observed how difficult it was for minorities to gain power via the democratic process, through elections to the First and Second Dumas (parliaments) (1906–1907). He tried to design a system of autonomy for Jews and other minorities, a system that would guarantee social control over resources, and innovations in education. He was involved in the League for the Attainment of Full Rights for the Jews of Russia, and participated in the so-called Cherikov Affair (1907–1909), in which some Russian intellectuals singled Jews out as alien to Russian culture. From 1909 to 1910, Jabotinsky traveled to Istanbul to work as an editor of Zionist journals during the Young Turk Revolution. He returned to Russia in time to witness the Mendel Beilis Affair (1911–1913), in which the government put Beilis, a Jewish factory worker, on trial for ritual murder.

During World War I, Jabotinsky joined Joseph Trumpeldor, Pinkhas Rutenberg, and Meir Grossman, all Russian Jews, and formed the Jewish Legion, a Jewish fighting unit under British command. The Legion brought him to Palestine in 1918, but Britain decommissioned his unit shortly afterward, and he was left unemployed. In 1920, he was arrested for defending Jerusalem during the Arab Riots. The British government sentenced him to three years in the Acre prison, but he was soon released, and shortly afterward, Chaim Weizmann appointed him to the Zionist Executive and then sent him to America as a representative of Keren Hayesod, the Zionist fund for the purchase of land in Palestine. After Jabotinsky’s resignation from the Zionist Executive in 1923, he moved to Berlin and then Paris. From 1923 to 1925, he traveled around Europe giving talks and laying the groundwork for his own political party, HaTzoHar, which he started in 1925. Though small at first, with few members, it grew into a popular opposition party within Zionism. In 1935, as much out of frustration as hope, Jabotinsky withdrew his party from the World Zionist Organization and established the New Zionist Organization (NZO). Jabotinsky died in 1940, in Hunter, New York, where he was inspecting a Betar camp.

For the intellectual historian, this project has opened many paths: Russia with its great literary tradition, the 1905 Revolution, and its period of democratic experimentation (1907–1916), Zionism and Jewish politics, the Russian emigration, and then the explosive historical contexts of the first half of the twentieth century (World War I, the interwar period, and then World War II). It seemed to me that no one yet had been able to bring all these dimensions together properly or find the right emphasis.

This book’s genre is intellectual biography. It traces the development of Jabotinsky’s Zionism in the context of his ideological, personal, and political experiences. In the history of Zionist thought, I view Jabotinsky as representing the end of one phase of Zionism and the beginning of another. He comes to the movement at the close of the age of theoretical Zionism, which had its origins in the Russian Empire and produced such inspired thinkers as Leon Pinsker, Ahad-Ha’am, and Micah Yosef Berdichevsky. In the next period, Jabotinsky joined Yehiel Chlenov, Avram Idel’son, Menachem Ussishkin, and others who dealt with practical politics in Russia. He began organizing Zionist groups, publishing literature about Zionism, running for a Duma seat, and participating in various political conferences.

What I have not done in this book is recount Jabotinsky’s thoughts and actions as they evolved day by day. Two biographies, one by Joseph Schechtman and the other by Shmuel Katz, do exactly that.⁷ Instead, I provide arguments and evidence to explain the arc of Jabotinsky’s development. Therefore, although the facts of his life matter, this book is not strictly speaking a biography. Ideas and contexts take precedence; I include details about his family, but sparingly, and only when they are relevant to his ideas.

In terms of sources, this book draws heavily on Jabotinsky’s large Russian-language oeuvre, which, though once thought to be lost, is now available.⁸ Similarly, I have immersed myself in Russian-language publications by and about Zionism in Russia. In this context one may mention the Russian-language Zionist newspaper Rassvet.⁹ There are also large archival holdings in the Jabotinsky Institute in Tel Aviv, as well as many sources on Jabotinsky in Hebrew, Yiddish, German, Polish, and English. Another deep well of materials is the extensive secondary scholarship on Jewish politics in Russia, especially scholarship that has appeared since the opening of Soviet archives.

My project relies on Michael Stanislawski’s earlier book, Zionism and the Fin de Siècle. Professor Stanislawski shows that Jabotinsky knew little about nationalism, much less Zionism, until he was nearly twenty years old. But Professor Stanislawski left it to others to figure out Jabotinsky’s development once he did embrace Zionism. That has been my task, and it drew my attention to a body of rare and unused sources about Russian Zionism and Zionists. Those sources have fueled this book.

Disagreements among historians are common and perhaps inevitable. Although Michael Stanislawski’s insights are important—that Jabotinsky’s autobiography diverged from the historical facts, that his Jewish education occurred belatedly, and that he was influenced by the fin de siècle culture that he encountered in Rome—they should not be overestimated.¹⁰ If we are interested in Jabotinsky primarily because of his Zionist ideas and activities, we need to focus on the history of Zionism in Russia and Russian politics and culture at the time when he participated in the Zionist movement. The cosmopolitan culture that influenced him before he joined the movement is of secondary significance. However, we should pay attention to Stanislawski’s insight that in his autobiographical writings, Jabotinsky mixed true events with myths.¹¹ It cannot be doubted that Jabotinsky had a penchant for exaggeration. For these reasons, I use his autobiography with caution. However, rather than reject Jabotinsky’s fabrications, I analyze them as part of his political strategy, and I locate Jabotinsky within narratives that are larger and more complex than his sympathizers would allow. His stories are useful in helping to piece together a composite understanding of Jabotinsky against the backdrop of twentieth-century events.

For many years, ideology and tendentiousness characterized scholarship on Jabotinsky and Revisionism.¹² Recently, however, a number of serious scholars of Zionism and Jewish history have attempted to go beyond the polemics of popular political history (Labor versus Revisionism) and take seriously Jabotinsky’s complicated position in the Russian ferment. Avi Bareli and Pinhas Ginossar have assembled a fine book of essays, In the Eye of the Storm (2004). Leonid Katsis and Elena Tolstaya have also published a collection of essays on the Russian Jabotinsky (2013), while Dimitry Shumsky, a professor of Zionism at the Hebrew University, has written a good deal about Jabotinsky’s theories of national autonomy.¹³ In his latest book, Beyond the Nation-State: The Zionist Political Imagination from Pinsker to Ben-Gurion (2018), Shumsky argues in favor of a tradition of Jewish autonomism, which endorsed sharing Palestine with its Arab inhabitants. Jabotinsky’s contradictory pronouncements, especially about the relevance of political autonomy for minorities, can be compiled to show his respect for tolerance and giving full rights to the Arabs in Palestine.¹⁴

Svetlana Natkovich, a young Israeli scholar, has also written about the Russian Jabotinsky. In Among Radiant Clouds: The Literature of Vladimir (Zeev) Jabotinsky in its Social Context (2015), she examines Jabotinsky’s psychology, political dreams, and creative ambitions, attempting to grasp his politics through his artistic imagination.¹⁵ By contrast, another Israeli scholar, Amir Goldstein, sees antisemitism as the unifying thread in Zionism and Antisemitism in the Thought and Action of Ze’ev Jabotinsky (2015).¹⁶ Daniel Heller, a Canadian scholar, recently published his dissertation, Jabotinsky’s Children: Polish Jews and the Rise of Right-Wing Zionism, which deals with the formation of Betar, the Revisionist youth group, and the popularity of Revisionism among Polish Jews in the 1930s.¹⁷

Besides these books, there are several works devoted to the Israeli political right with major sections devoted to Jabotinsky’s role as inspiration or father figure. Among these books are Colin Shindler’s The Triumph of Military Zionism, Ami Podazhur’s The Triumph of Israel’s Radical Right, and Eran Kaplan’s The Jewish Radical Right.¹⁸ Recently, a debate broke out over the authorship of Jabotinsky’s texts and his use of pseudonyms. Leonid Katsis argues for a more generous incorporation of texts that might belong to Jabotinsky, whereas Alexander Frenkel criticizes the former’s approach.¹⁹

My book differs from these. Unlike Natkovich, I set aside Jabotinsky’s dreams and concentrate on his Zionist writings, downplaying the gap between the writer and the politician. For me, the politician takes precedence. After all, if Jabotinsky had remained only a journalist and creative writer, he wouldn’t be the subject of a biography.²⁰ My project shares common elements with Amir Goldstein’s, but his concentration on antisemitism pushes him in a different direction. I follow Jabotinsky’s path in Zionism; to me, antisemitism is only a part of the picture. Additionally, most books about Israel’s radical right deal with the later period in Jabotinsky’s life, and see his rightward drift as inevitable. This approach examines his ideological endpoint and wants only to know “how he got there.” I see this approach as overdetermined. I emphasize the potentialities and contingencies of Jabotinsky’s life and the contradictions in his views, showing that his path was hardly unidirectional. Indeed, he entertained multiple and contradictory choices along the way, and his fate was hardly inevitable.

Recently, scholars have become interested in Jabotinsky’s literary oeuvre and in the contrast between fiction and politics.²¹ In truth, his politics and creative writing rarely addressed the same themes at the same time. In this context, it is something of a conundrum that Jabotinsky wrote a novel (The Five) about tsarist Russia in the late 1930s, when the Nazis were gaining power in Europe and antisemitism was growing. However, while he was remembering the past, he became extremely active politically in the present. He withdrew his party from the World Zionist Organization and created the New Zionist Organization, and he negotiated with the Polish government to facilitate the mass evacuation of Polish Jewry.²² His newspaper articles in the last years of the 1930s concentrated on “evacuation,” which he defined as a strategically prudent act of retreat.²³

Although Jabotinsky left Russia permanently in 1915, I have added two chapters on his relationships with Russians abroad and the story of the emigration of Jews and Russians from the Soviet Union. As I see it, the creation of a Revisionist Zionist Party in 1925 was entirely a Russian-Jewish phenomenon: its leaders and original members were Jews from Russia. Thus, the period 1915 to 1925 is part of my story. Even when Jabotinsky was outside its borders, Russia followed him everywhere: he established the Jewish Legion with colleagues from Russia, and the reason for a Legion was to entice the Jewish immigrants from Russia to volunteer for military service in Britain. In his Palestine period (1918 to 1920); in his work as a fundraiser for the Keren Hayesod; and as a member of the Zionist Executive, Jabotinsky was linked with Chaim Weizmann, another Jew from Russia. From 1920 to 1925, Jabotinsky befriended and worked with a group of Russian émigrés—Joseph Schechtman, Shlomo Gepstein, Alexander Kulisher, Yuly Brutskus, and Meir Grossman—in publishing Rassvet, the Russian-language newspaper. All were Zionists.

Because the Russian chapter of Jabotinsky’s life did not end in 1925, I have added a postscript about Russian thematics, which played an important role in Jabotinsky’s later career. One might expect the Russia theme to vanish from Jabotinsk’s life in the 1930s, especially since he was busy with Revisionist party matters, but, surprisingly, he wrote a great deal about Russia, and with rose-tinted glasses. He idealized his friends and experiences, and painted a self-portrait of a moderate liberal, a person who stands for individual freedom, the democratic process, and minority rights. In his final years, Jabotinsky linked memories of Russia with his defense against charges of fascism. Russia symbolized a happier time, unlike the anxious present, when the Nazi threat loomed on a dark horizon.

Nonetheless, the Revisionist party changed rapidly after it was officially established. Russian émigrés left its ranks, and Palestinian and Polish Jews joined, as Revisionism turned more radical. The story of Jabotinsky’s evolution after 1925 belongs to a different narrative. In this context, the trajectory and the chronological bookends of 1900 to 1925 make sense.

The large and growing literature on Jabotinsky reveals enormous popular interest in him. Perhaps the fascination stems from the ideological parallels between the present-day Likud party and Jabotinsky.²⁴ Some journalists have linked Benjamin Netanyahu to Jabotinsky through Bibi’s father, Benzion Netanyahu, who was involved in the Revisionist movement. Benzion devoted a chapter in his book on Zionism to Jabotinsky.²⁵ Menachem Begin, also a Likud forefather, invoked Jabotinsky to enhance his own political legitimacy, although one should acknowledge that Begin distorted Jabotinsky’s image to serve his own interests.²⁶

For many Israelis today, Jabotinsky’s greatest achievement was the establishment of a Zionism of the political right.²⁷ Likudniks like to recall that Jabotinsky opposed Mapai (socialism) and promoted capitalist investment to expand Jewish employment. Jabotinsky disliked the Histadrut (labor exchange), so he established a parallel Revisionist labor exchange. As early as the mid-1920s, Jabotinsky rejected labor strikes in Palestine, arguing that they frightened away investment. When workers brought legitimate grievances, Jabotinsky suggested arbitration, his reasoning being that the Yishuv was a society in the making: at this early point in its development, it simply couldn’t endure economic dislocations caused by class conflict.

History has been both generous and cruel to Jabotinsky. Generous in that there is an institute devoted entirely to his legacy in Tel Aviv, and numerous scholars are occupied with him. Cruel because, even though he is remembered, it is often not for what he accomplished, but primarily for what he has signified for Israeli politics in the years since his death.²⁸

Notes

1.Brian Horowitz, “Was Vladimir Jabotinsky a ‘Good’ Politician?,” Frankel Center Yearbook, 2012.

2.Jan Zouplna, “Revisionist Zionism: Image Reality and the Quest for Historical Narrative,” Middle Eastern Studies 44, no. 1 (2008): 5.

3.Vladimir Jabotinsky, Fel’etony (St. Petersburg, 1913), 264–274.

4.Dvora Hacohen, “British Immigration Policy to Palestine in the 1930s: Implications for Youth Aliyah,” Middle Eastern Studies 37, no. 4 (October 2001): 216.

5.For example, Katzir: Kovets le-korot ha-tenuah ha-tsionit be-rusya, 2 vols. (Tel Aviv: Masada, 1964); Yizhak Maor, Ha-Tenuah ha-tsionit be-rusya (Jerusalem: Magnes & Hebrew University, 1986); Yossi Goldshtein, Bin tsionut medinit le-tsionut ma’asit: Ha-tenuah ha-tsionit be-rusya ba-reshitah (Jerusalem: Magnes, 1991).

6.Patricia Herlihy, “Port Jews of Odessa and Trieste: A Tale of Two Cities,” Jahrbuch des Simon-Dubnow Institut II (2003): 183–198; Steven J. Zipperstein, “Odessa,” in The YIVO Encyclopedia of Jews in Eastern Europe, ed. Gershom Hundert, vol. 2 (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2008): 1277–1282.

7.Joseph B. Schechtman, The Vladimir Jabotinsky Story, 2 vols. (New York: Thomas Yoseloff, 1956); Shmuel Katz, Lone Wolf: A Biography of Vladimir (Ze’ev) Jabotinsky, 2 vols. (New York: Barricade Books, 1996).

8.Vladimir Jabotinsky, Polnoe sobranie sochinenii v deviati tomakh (Minsk: Met, 2007); up to now only four volumes have appeared.

9.Rassvet appeared in St. Petersburg (Petrograd), 1904–1917, and Berlin, Paris, 1922–1934. At times appeared with the title, Evreiskaia Zhizn’.

10.Michael Stanislawski, Zionism and the Fin de Siècle: Cosmopolitanism and Nationalism from Nordau to Jabotinsky (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2001), 116–149.

11.Michael Stanislawski, Autobiographical Jews: Essays in Jewish Self-Fashioning (Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2004), 3.

12.Ya’acov Vainshel, Jabo: Sirtutim le-dmuto shev Ze’ev Z’abotinski (Tel Aviv: Ha-Matmid, 1954).

13.Ish be-sa’ar: Masot u’mekhkarim ‘al Ze’ev Z’abotinski, ed. Avi Bareli and Pinhas Ginossar (Ber-Sheva: Universitat Ben-Guryon ba’Negev, 2004); Zhabotinskii i Rossiia: sbornik trudov Mezhdunarodnoi konferentsii ‘Russian Jabotinsky: Jabotinsky and Russia,’ posveshchennoi 130-letiiu V. E. Zhabotinskogo, ed. Leonid Katsis and Elena Tolstaya (Evreiskii Universitet v Ierusalime, iiul’ 2010) (Palo Alto: Department of Slavic Languages and Literatures, Stanford University, 2013); Dmitry Shumsky, “Tsionut ve-medinat ha-leum: Ha’araha me-hadash,” Zion 1/2 (January 2012).

14.Dmitry Shumsky, Beyond the Nation-State: The Zionist Political Imagination from Pinsker to Ben-Gurion (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2018).

15.Svetlana Natkovich, Ben aneney zokhar: Yetsirato shel Vladimir (Ze’ev) Z’abotinski ba-heksher ha-hevrati (Jerusalem: Magnes, 2015).

16.Amir Goldstein, Derekh rabat-panim: Tsiyonuto shel Ze’ev Z’abotinski le-nokhah ha-antishemiyut (Kiryat Sedeh-Boker: Jabotinsky Institute, 2015).

17.Daniel Heller, Jabotinsky’s Children: Polish Jews and the Rise of Right-Wing Zionism (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2017).

18.Colin Shindler, The Triumph of Military Zionism: Nationalism and the Origins of the Israeli Right (London: I. B. Tauris, 2009); Ami Pedahzur, The Triumph of Israel’s Radical Right (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012); Eran Kaplan, The Jewish Radical Right: Revisionist Zionism and its Ideological Legacy (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 2005).

19.Leonid F. Katsis, ‘Russkaia vesna’ Vladimira Zhabotinskogo (Moscow: Rossiiskii Gosudarstvennyi Gumanitarnyi Universitet, 2019); Aleksandr Frenkel’, “Falsifikatsiia Zhabotinskogo non-stop,” Narod Knigi v Mire Knig (August 2014): 1–3.

20.Hillel Halkin, Jabotinsky: A Life (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2014).

21.Dan Miron, Ilan metsak ba-gai: Ze’ev Z’botinski ve shirato (Tel Aviv: Ha-msidar’a sh. Ze’ev Z’abotinski, 2005); Marat Grinberg, “Was Jabotinsky the Zionist Nabokov?” Tablet Magazine, August 4, 2014.

22.Heller, Jabotinsky’s Children, 18.

23.Vladimir Jabotinsky, “The Evacuation Problem, Humanitarian Zionism,” Jewish Herald 30, no. 9 (March 11, 1936): 4.

24.Nonetheless, Colin Shindler warns against using history to answer today’s political questions. The Rise of the Israeli Right: From Odessa to Hebron (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2015), ix.

25.Benzion Netanyahu, The Founding Fathers of Zionism (Jerusalem: Balfour Books, 2012).

26.Yechiam Weitz, Bin Ze’ev Z’abotinski le-Menachem Begin: Kovets ma’amarim al ha-tenua ha-revizionistit (Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 2012), 15–33. Begin portrayed Jabotinsky as the father of a Jewish paramilitary underground. In fact, Jabotinsky favored public displays of armed force that acted as a deterrent to violence.

27.Shindler, Rise of the Israeli Right; also Benzion Netanyahu, “Z’abotinski ki-medinai u’kemannig le-amo: Keitsad haya magiv al ba’ayot zmanenu,” in Ish be-Sa’ar: Masot ve-Mekhkarim al Ze’ev Z’abotinski (Ber-Sheva: Ben- Gurion, 2004); Eran Kaplan, “A Rebel with a Cause: Hillel Kook, Begin and Jabotinsky’s Ideological Legacy,” Israel Studies 10, no. 3 (Fall 2005): 87–103.

28.Weitz, Bin Ze’ev Z’abotinski le-Menachem Begin, 15–33.