Founded in '44, Hillel Gave Jewish Students a `Home'

Harvard-Radcliffe Hillel, which today claims about a quarter of Harvard undergraduates as members, started out in 1944 with a few students and a vacant space in a Mass Ave. movie theater.

Hillel was founded by three students seeking "A feeling of home within the school," says William L. Frost '47, the first president of Hillel.

Besides serving a religious function, Hillel was an early example of what is today a burgeoning number of campus ethnic and cultural organizations. Harvard now has approximately 30 such groups, and the number continues to grow.

The Jewish organization just last month moved into a brand-new $8 million building located on Harvard property. This was a significant change in Hillel's status from the 1940s. when the University did not allow national religious organizations on Harvard property.

"We never thought of ourselves as `on campus," says Charles R. Feldstein, who as a graduate student was associated with Hillel in the '40s. "Harvard did not welcome us on campus."

In a letter to the founder of Harvard Hillel, Dean of the Divinity School William J. Sperry explained that the group would not enjoy the same privileges as Hillel chapters on other campuses.

"I know that you will feel by contrast [to other campuses] a little out in the cold," wrote Sperry, "but please believe that these are the conditions under which such men are serving their churches in Cambridge as pastors of Harvard students."

Original Hillel members are astonished at how far the organization has come since its founding.

"The idea that there is a new building, which is in some ways a Harvard building, is astounding," Feldstein says.

Countering Assimilation

Eliezer Krumbein '46-'47. Frank M. Lowenberg '47 and Frost, the three founders of Harvard's Hillel chapter, say Jewish students had previously lacked a cultural identity. Indeed, the organization was formed partially to counter the widespread assimilation of Harvard Jews into the broader campus culture.

Harvard was not overtly anti-Semitic in the 1940s, some alumni say, but others indicate there may have been subtle prejudice.

"Anti-Semitism was part of our society...There was a lot of self-selection offriends," says A. Leroy Atherton Jr. '44-43. "Itwasn't was that overt, but being not Jewishmyself, and having sat in on bull sessions...Iheard ethnic jokes."

Atherton says he sometimes heard non-Jewishstudents use ethnic slurs to refer to Jews.

And Frost notes that Jewish students tended tohave Jewish roommates.

Harvard's final clubs were the most obviousbastions of prejudice: future Nobel laureates andinternational politicians were blacklisted becausethey were Jewish.

"By and large, we socialized well," Krumbeinsays. "However, there were still the clubs."

But the clubs' attitudes were an exception at agenerally open-minded college, Jewish alumni say.

J. Robert Moskin '44-'45 says that, outside theclubs, being Jewish was not an issue at Harvard.

"The thing about Harvard most of all was thatit was so open and accepting, in terms of theUniversity itself and in terms of the classmates,"says Moskin, who retains an "assortment" of Jewishand non-Jewish friends from his Harvard years.

The campus' myriad other organizations, whichcentered around social and intellectual activityrather than income and class, provided equalaccess to all students, alumni say.

Thomas S. Kuhn '44-'43, later a founder of theHistory of Science Department, says he wasparticularly pleased as an undergraduate by thisarray of welcoming organizations.

But some Jewish students were curious to learnmore about their heritage, their religion andtheir culture.

"When I was here, there was a mythology of theHarvard man," Frost says. "There was not all thismulticulturalism to provide a feeling of homewithin the school."

Especially in the wake of World War II, whenthe College's student body was becoming larger andmore national, some Jewish students needed a senseof community and a place for services.

"Harvard was more of a local college at thetime," Frost says. Many students went to religiousservices at their family places of worship nearcampus, and many faculty lived and worshipped inBrookline, according to Frost.

"But when Harvard became a national universitythe structure broke down--there were a lot of bigchanges," Frost recalls.

Students were especially interested in meetingother Jewish undergraduates to find some commonground.

If the purpose of Hillel was to enhancerelations between Jewish students at then-separateHarvard and Radcliffe Colleges, it started workingright away. Feldstein met Janice R. Joseph '47,his future wife, when she snubbed him at a Hillelevent.

"I called her to ask her if she could help withthe Oneg Shabbat," Feldstein recalls. Josephsonsaid she was busy, but then showed up at the eventwith an MIT man in tow.

Josephson and Feldstein found themselvestogether again in an American history course.Feldstein swears Josephson came and sat next tohim, but Josephson says he moved to sit next toher. Regardless, their initial Hillel contact ledto a long marriage.

Feldstein says he believes helping Jewishstudents find each other was a major purpose ofHillel at its founding; it certainly worked forhim. "We did find each other indeed," he says.

But not all Jewish faculty or students at thetime applauded the founding of the new ethnic andreligious organization. Some felt that the newHillel was an assertion of separatism in anotherwise open environment.

Kuhn, who was editorial chair of The Crimsonand a member of the Signet Society, was initiallydistressed to learn of the proposed Hillel. Sincehe had "no trouble at all" on the basis ofreligion at Harvard, he worried that the Hillelmight promote division between students.

Harvard's handful of Jewish professors at thetime--who may have experienced more isolation andanti-Semitism than undergraduates, according tohistorian Nitza Rosovsky--were not all in favor ofthe new Hillel either.

Even Harry Austrind Wolfson, the scholar mostengaged in Jewish life, believed Hillel was notall that important for Harvard. When asked how toallocate national B'nai B'rith funds, Wolfsonsuggested a Hebrew grammar book was the bestoption--not new Hillel organizations, according toKrumbein.

The History of Hillel

It was the arrival of Judah J. Shapiro, arepresentative of the national Hillelorganization, that helped spark Hillel's foundingin 1944.

Shapiro was a charismatic, friendly leader.According to Feldstein, Shapiro was something of amaverick within the national Hillel organizationbecause he was not a rabbi; Shapiro's concern asthe chapter's first director was more with thelives of the students than with a specificreligious purpose.

"He was a warm guy," with a "very specialability to relate to young people," saysFeldstein, who worked as Shapiro's assistant."Those of us who got to know him got some familyinvolvement."

Before 1944, a small Jewish organization calledthe Menorah Society existed, but had littlepresence on campus.

While Jewish students felt comfortable atHarvard before Hillel's founding, "they did notflaunt Judaism on campus, because of this Harvardman image," Frost says.

During the summer of 1944, a few studentscorresponded with Shapiro, who helped found Hillelchapters around Boston. Shapiro met with studentsat an office in Copley Square, according toRosovsky's book.

The first Harvard Hillel meeting took place inhis home in Shade Hill Square, says MildredKravitz, who was Shapiro's secretary.

In 1944, of course, most students werepreoccupied with the war, not Hillel.

"It consumed our lives," Moskin says of thewar. "It controlled our lives."

Jewish students at Harvard were largely unawareof the Holocaust going on in Europe, Frost says.

"We did not know anything about the Holocaust,"he says. "We were wrapped up in Harvard, and thenwe got drafted."

After the war, however, Hillel grew quickly.

By 1946, the Jewish organization had gotten itssecond director, Rabbi Maurice L. Zigmund, andmoved to a house on Bryant Street, near theDivinity School. In the late 1970s, theorganization moved to 74 Mt. Auburn St.--which hadpreviously housed the Iroquois final club--whereit remained until April of this year.

Today, the group begun 50 years ago stillfulfills many of the same purposes the wartimefounders intended, students say.

Officers and members of Hillel cite itsimportance today as a gathering place and centerof learning about Jewish culture.

"When there is a crisis, like during the GulfWar, and during times of personal crisis, thebuilding is open and people are praying," saysDaniel Lipstein '94, who has held several Hilleloffices in his four years. "On an organizationallevel, Hillel is here to support people and be asafety net."

While Hillel's mission has remained the sameover the last 50 years, the University'srecognition and support of Hillel has grown.

"We have a very good life here," Lipstein says."And that's partly because the Hillel is strong,and purely because the administrationrecognizes...it's the right thing to do."

Atherton says he sometimes heard non-Jewishstudents use ethnic slurs to refer to Jews.

And Frost notes that Jewish students tended tohave Jewish roommates.

Harvard's final clubs were the most obviousbastions of prejudice: future Nobel laureates andinternational politicians were blacklisted becausethey were Jewish.

"By and large, we socialized well," Krumbeinsays. "However, there were still the clubs."

But the clubs' attitudes were an exception at agenerally open-minded college, Jewish alumni say.

J. Robert Moskin '44-'45 says that, outside theclubs, being Jewish was not an issue at Harvard.

"The thing about Harvard most of all was thatit was so open and accepting, in terms of theUniversity itself and in terms of the classmates,"says Moskin, who retains an "assortment" of Jewishand non-Jewish friends from his Harvard years.

The campus' myriad other organizations, whichcentered around social and intellectual activityrather than income and class, provided equalaccess to all students, alumni say.

Thomas S. Kuhn '44-'43, later a founder of theHistory of Science Department, says he wasparticularly pleased as an undergraduate by thisarray of welcoming organizations.

But some Jewish students were curious to learnmore about their heritage, their religion andtheir culture.

"When I was here, there was a mythology of theHarvard man," Frost says. "There was not all thismulticulturalism to provide a feeling of homewithin the school."

Especially in the wake of World War II, whenthe College's student body was becoming larger andmore national, some Jewish students needed a senseof community and a place for services.

"Harvard was more of a local college at thetime," Frost says. Many students went to religiousservices at their family places of worship nearcampus, and many faculty lived and worshipped inBrookline, according to Frost.

"But when Harvard became a national universitythe structure broke down--there were a lot of bigchanges," Frost recalls.

Students were especially interested in meetingother Jewish undergraduates to find some commonground.

If the purpose of Hillel was to enhancerelations between Jewish students at then-separateHarvard and Radcliffe Colleges, it started workingright away. Feldstein met Janice R. Joseph '47,his future wife, when she snubbed him at a Hillelevent.

"I called her to ask her if she could help withthe Oneg Shabbat," Feldstein recalls. Josephsonsaid she was busy, but then showed up at the eventwith an MIT man in tow.

Josephson and Feldstein found themselvestogether again in an American history course.Feldstein swears Josephson came and sat next tohim, but Josephson says he moved to sit next toher. Regardless, their initial Hillel contact ledto a long marriage.

Feldstein says he believes helping Jewishstudents find each other was a major purpose ofHillel at its founding; it certainly worked forhim. "We did find each other indeed," he says.

But not all Jewish faculty or students at thetime applauded the founding of the new ethnic andreligious organization. Some felt that the newHillel was an assertion of separatism in anotherwise open environment.

Kuhn, who was editorial chair of The Crimsonand a member of the Signet Society, was initiallydistressed to learn of the proposed Hillel. Sincehe had "no trouble at all" on the basis ofreligion at Harvard, he worried that the Hillelmight promote division between students.

Harvard's handful of Jewish professors at thetime--who may have experienced more isolation andanti-Semitism than undergraduates, according tohistorian Nitza Rosovsky--were not all in favor ofthe new Hillel either.

Even Harry Austrind Wolfson, the scholar mostengaged in Jewish life, believed Hillel was notall that important for Harvard. When asked how toallocate national B'nai B'rith funds, Wolfsonsuggested a Hebrew grammar book was the bestoption--not new Hillel organizations, according toKrumbein.

The History of Hillel

It was the arrival of Judah J. Shapiro, arepresentative of the national Hillelorganization, that helped spark Hillel's foundingin 1944.

Shapiro was a charismatic, friendly leader.According to Feldstein, Shapiro was something of amaverick within the national Hillel organizationbecause he was not a rabbi; Shapiro's concern asthe chapter's first director was more with thelives of the students than with a specificreligious purpose.

"He was a warm guy," with a "very specialability to relate to young people," saysFeldstein, who worked as Shapiro's assistant."Those of us who got to know him got some familyinvolvement."

Before 1944, a small Jewish organization calledthe Menorah Society existed, but had littlepresence on campus.

While Jewish students felt comfortable atHarvard before Hillel's founding, "they did notflaunt Judaism on campus, because of this Harvardman image," Frost says.

During the summer of 1944, a few studentscorresponded with Shapiro, who helped found Hillelchapters around Boston. Shapiro met with studentsat an office in Copley Square, according toRosovsky's book.

The first Harvard Hillel meeting took place inhis home in Shade Hill Square, says MildredKravitz, who was Shapiro's secretary.

In 1944, of course, most students werepreoccupied with the war, not Hillel.

"It consumed our lives," Moskin says of thewar. "It controlled our lives."

Jewish students at Harvard were largely unawareof the Holocaust going on in Europe, Frost says.

"We did not know anything about the Holocaust,"he says. "We were wrapped up in Harvard, and thenwe got drafted."

After the war, however, Hillel grew quickly.

By 1946, the Jewish organization had gotten itssecond director, Rabbi Maurice L. Zigmund, andmoved to a house on Bryant Street, near theDivinity School. In the late 1970s, theorganization moved to 74 Mt. Auburn St.--which hadpreviously housed the Iroquois final club--whereit remained until April of this year.

Today, the group begun 50 years ago stillfulfills many of the same purposes the wartimefounders intended, students say.

Officers and members of Hillel cite itsimportance today as a gathering place and centerof learning about Jewish culture.

"When there is a crisis, like during the GulfWar, and during times of personal crisis, thebuilding is open and people are praying," saysDaniel Lipstein '94, who has held several Hilleloffices in his four years. "On an organizationallevel, Hillel is here to support people and be asafety net."

While Hillel's mission has remained the sameover the last 50 years, the University'srecognition and support of Hillel has grown.

"We have a very good life here," Lipstein says."And that's partly because the Hillel is strong,and purely because the administrationrecognizes...it's the right thing to do."