(although challengers would appear), he naturally felt cast in the role of director, even of arbiter, and this attitude was sometimes resented—or at best tolerated—by his associates and readers. Still, Most spoke repeatedly of the need to organize, to build, to bring the fight to the enemy. When in 1883 a call went out for a new conference of American revolutionaries in Pittsburgh, Most emerged the leading force and author of its famous Proclamation. The International Working People’s Association was established; it was to gather under its federative umbrella all autonomous groups and a handful of movement newspapers. As a result, dozens of groups sprang up in cities along the east coast, including in Philadelphia, New Haven, Newark, Buffalo, and several in the New York City area. The Proclamation invoked Jefferson’s dictum that an oppressive government warrants its victims to overthrow it, and thus declares as its first principle the “destruction of the existing ruling class by all means.” All that was needed was “organization and unity” now possible since “the work of peaceful education and revolutionary conspiracy well can and ought to run in parallel lines.” In other words, propaganda by the deed should coexist with propaganda by the word.
By the time of the Haymarket verdict, Most’s views had tempered, although he never missed an opportunity for verbal provocation. As far as is known, he never committed a violent crime, which did not prevent New York authorities from arresting and jailing him several times mostly for inciting to riot. Thus, by the time Minkin, Goldman, and Berkman entered Most’s orbit, this German firebrand had piled up a reputation—at least among anarchists—of stubbornness, resilience, and courage. This is not to say that his stature went unchallenged. Rifts in the movement had been visible since the London days, mostly over ideology and tactics. Most’s efforts to keep Freiheit afloat, combined with his undisguised desire for control, led the Autonomists, a rival faction led by the Austrian anarchist Josef Peukert, to openly challenge Most. Autonomists favored Kropotkin’s philosophy of anarchist communism whereby the collective fruits of labor were to be distributed according to need. Most and other so-called collectivist anarchists believed that distribution had to proceed according to ability. Personal enmity and the emotions that come with operating in a movement rife with police spies exacerbated the situation. When, in 1887, Most’s friend and key smuggler Johann Neve was arrested by Belgian police, Most lashed out at Peukert accusing him of betraying Neve. This rivalry between the Mostians and Autonomists suffused much of the atmosphere during the 1880s and 1890s in London as well as in New York.11
From the anarchist perspective, the Haymarket affair was a devastating tragedy, but the publicity surrounding it exposed many young Jewish immigrants to anarchism. They learned of its philosophy, its characters and their courage in the face of state repression. And they were inspired by the anarchists’ alliance—especially in Chicago—with an increasingly vocal labor movement. Two months after the death sentences were meted out, the first Jewish anarchist group, Pioneers of Liberty (Pionire der Frayhayt), was founded in New York with club headquarters on Orchard Street. They affiliated with the International Working People’s Association, held meetings and fundraisers, and found in Johann Most an inspiring force even though most Yiddish-speaking Jews—like Minkin—were not fluent in German. “It is an understatement,” declared Chaim Weinberg, “to say that Most had the ability to inspire an audience. He electrified, all but bewitched, every listener, opponent, as well as friend.”12
By the time Minkin arrived in New York in June 1888, this Yiddish-speaking movement had grown and there was talk of launching a publishing venture of their own. The Pioneers of Liberty made such an announcement in January 1889, and a month later the first issue of Varhayt (Truth) appeared—the first Yiddish anarchist periodical in the United States.13 Jewish comrades could read articles by Kropotkin and of course Most, and educate themselves about the Paris Commune and American labor news. The venture ended after five months due to lack of funds, but was soon followed by another paper, the Fraye Arbeter Shtime, one of the longest-lasting anarchist papers in history as it turned out. An entire subculture emerged modeled on what the Germans had built. Jewish anarchists set up cooperatives, mutual aid organizations, and clubs, and they staged concerts and theater performances. They were especially conspicuous as a voice for atheism and anticlerical agitation, something that made Most feel right at home. In fact, it was one of Most’s most widely read pamphlets, The God Pestilence, translated into Yiddish in 1888, that inspired and energized much of this activism. Most shocking to traditional Jews was the annual Yom Kippur ball organized by anarchists, which made a mockery out of Judaism’s holiest day of the year.
Minkin, then, witnessed upon her arrival a mature, diverse, and vibrant—if dejected after Haymarket—anarchist movement, predominantly German with a growing Jewish contingent. A movement alive with weekly meetings, large commemorative gatherings, festive fundraisers, outings, and reading clubs. Pamphlets, books, and anarchist newspapers were readily available by subscription or at various beerhalls and restaurants. This movement was also male-dominated despite the fact that some German activists championed women’s rights. Women were by no means absent; every press account of large anarchist gatherings noted the impressive attendance by women. But most club members were men, and while reliable sources are rare, it seems that most German anarchist families retained traditional gender roles within the household. Occasionally, anarchist papers in their event announcements encouraged women to participate more fully.14 But elsewhere in a paper like Freiheit, gendered language was not uncommon, and on one occasion, in March 1887, a woman complained about the insulting tone and promptly received an apology.15
When Most and Minkin began a relationship and started a family, the anarchists loyal to Most expressed their disapproval, as Minkin relates in her memoir. Implicit in this backlash was an assumption that family life for movement members impeded the cause of revolution, softened the (male) activist, and would likely result in trouble. It may also drain resources away from the movement’s activities, they feared. One dramatic incident—if perhaps not wholly representative—illustrates this dynamic. On January 28, 1902, comrade Hugo Mohr was found dead in his Paterson, NJ apartment; he had gassed himself out of fear of a second arrest after he had been released on bail that day. According to a court reporter for the New York Sun, no friend of anarchists, Mohr had been charged with “cruelty to his family.” He had been out of work for a year, “took the money that his wife and oldest daughter earned and bought Anarchist literature with it.” He also donated money to Most’s defense fund by sending it to Helene Most who was managing the paper. The reporter added that “he beat his wife and children until they were afraid of their lives. Last Tuesday night he caught his oldest daughter by the ear and nearly tore it off.”16 Remarkably, Freiheit, in a brief notice chose to blame Mohr’s death on his wife: “Comrade Mohr has committed suicide by gas in Paterson. An evil woman drove him to his death. That’s how they are.”17
Emma Goldman, who arrived in New York in August 1889, was especially attuned to the politics of gender and sexuality. She had recently ended a brief and unhappy marriage, and was bent on maintaining her independence and rebelliousness. If the German movement, and Most especially, provided her a foot in the door, she nonetheless became disillusioned with their outdated ideas around gender. “I expressed contempt,” she wrote, “for the reactionary attitude of our German comrades on these matters.”18 And again, in 1929, in a letter to Berkman, she charged that “[the Germans] remain stationary on all points except economics. Especially as regards women, they are really antediluvian.”19
Johann Most’s views on women and gender fit Goldman’s description perfectly. And she would know. It was in fact Goldman’s brief but intimate relationship with her mentor Most that confirmed for her the underlying conservatism of many
