Women in the Ottoman Balkans: Gender, Culture and History

Home > Other > Women in the Ottoman Balkans: Gender, Culture and History > Page 24
Women in the Ottoman Balkans: Gender, Culture and History Page 24

by Amila Buturovic


  filologiju 44–45 (1996).

  Opširni popis Bosanskog sandžaka iz 1604. godine [Detailed census of the Sancak

  of Bosnia from the year 1604] (Sarajevo: Bošnjački institut Zürich—Odjel

  Sarajevo i Orijentalni institut u Sarajevu, 2000).

  Peirce, Leslie. Morality Tales: Law and Gender in the Ottoman Court of Aintab

  (Berkeley, Los Angeles, and London: University of California Press, 2003).

  Singer, Amy. Constructing Ottoman Beneficence: an Imperial Soup Kitchen in

  Jerusalem (Albany: State University of New York Press, 2002).

  Spaho, Fehim Dž. “Vakufnama Shahdidar, supruge Gazi Husrev-bega,” [The

  vakufnama of Shahdidar, wife of Gazi Husrev Bey] Vakufname iz Bosne i

  Hercegovine (XV i XVI vijek), ed. Lejla Gazić (Sarajevo: Orijentalni institut u

  Sarajevu, 1985).

  126

  Women in the ottoman Balkans

  Trako, Salih. “Vakufnama Sinan-bega, sina Bajram-age” [The vakufnama of

  Sinan Bey, son of Bajram Aga], V akufname iz Bosne i Hercegovine (XV i XVI

  vijek), ed. Lejla Gazić (Sarajevo: Orijentalni institut u Sarajevu, 1985).

  Tucker, Judith E. In the House of the Law: Gender and Islamic Law in Ottoman

  Syria and Palestine (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1998).

  Vakufnama Fatime Ašide [The vakufnama of Fatima Ašida] (unpublished original

  manuscript).

  5

  Jewish Tobacco Workers in Salonika:

  Gender and Family in the Context of

  Social and Ethnic Strife

  Gila Hadar

  Salonika, the largest city of Macedonia, is situated in the northern part of modern

  Greece.1 An administrative and commercial center for centuries, Salonika2

  became one of the main sites of settlement for the Sephardic Jews who were

  expelled from the Iberian Peninsula at the end of the fifteenth century (1492–97)

  and subsequently became the largest and most dominant element of the city’s

  population.3 They were primarily involved in commercial and industrial activities,

  and were highly stratified in different classes, professions, and income groups.

  Culturally, the Jewish community developed its own distinct traditions in terms

  of family values, religious rituals, language (Ladino4), literature, customs, and

  habits of everyday life.

  In the nineteenth century and at the beginning of the twentieth, the city of

  Salonika witnessed far-reaching political, social, geopolitical, and demographic

  that influenced all its inhabitants. The various communities were influenced by

  Turkish and Hellenic nationalism, by socialist and communist ideologies, and by

  the development of modern capitalist industries.

  One of the most remarkable phenomena in Salonika was the industrialization

  and modernization of the city and the contribution of wealthy Jewish, Greek, and

  Muslim entrepreneurs, together with European banks and businesses, to these

  processes. The tobacco industry was one of the largest industries in Macedonia and

  the Near East. The tobacco factories of Greek Macedonia employed approximately

  20,000 workers. In Salonika, where the processing plants were located, 8,000

  workers were employed, most of whom were young Jewish girls.5 Nonetheless,

  they are absent from the historical narrative of the city, the community, the family,

  and the working class.

  In this article, I examine the process whereby gender, class, and ethnic identities

  were created among the female Jewish tobacco workers6 of Salonika, as well as

  their way of life and everyday activities; the ways that their entrance into the

  work force influenced how they conceived of themselves in the private and public

  128

  Women in the ottoman Balkans

  spheres; and the ways in which the outside world, the community, and the family

  related to the “princess” who broke into the public arena, took part in the events

  and social struggles of the time, and became part of the working community

  and the Socialist and Communist parties. I address how these processes were

  connected to issues of communal and ethnic/national interests in the Ottoman

  and post-Ottoman periods. Gender, class, and ethnicity are all emotionally laden

  issues, each of which contributes to the formation of identity and the sense of

  belonging. Yet throughout this period, we find that delineations of gender, class,

  and ethnicity crossed, merged, and even conflicted with one another. These various

  aspects are examined here in light of the theories of spatiality of Henri Lefebvre,

  David Sibley, and Juval Portugali, as well as the theories of the gendering of

  space of Shirley Ardener and others.7

  The main source for this paper is the Sephardic Jewish press—newspapers

  and journals written in Ladino and published in Salonika from the end of the

  nineteenth century until 1941.

  The Socialist Federation

  Until the Young Turk Revolution (July 1908), trade unions and strikes were

  forbidden.8 After the revolution, rallying behind the Young Turk motto of “Liberty,

  Justice, Equality, Fraternity,” the workers demanded equality in everyday life

  as well as in the factory. In the liberal climate that followed the revolution, a

  type of cultural mass-production began among the different ethnic and national

  groups, particularly through the free press, serving to raise ethnic and national

  consciousness within their respective communities.9 The new regime permitted

  the establishment of trade unions and social organizations. “Everyone is eager

  to exploit the opportunities which freedom has opened up to them. Everyone is

  establishing trade unions and associations that until now have been prohibited by

  the authorities. The bakers, railroad workers, tailors, dock workers, shoemakers,

  sales clerks in the shops and the young girls in the textile mills and factories have

  all been on strike.”10

  The umbrella organization of the workers was La Federation Socialista,

  which began to work openly immediately after the revolution.11 The Federation

  was established in 1909 by a group of workers from all ethnic groups who were

  imbued with socialist ideals: Avraham Ben-Aroyah (Benaroya), Alberto Arditi,

  Samuel Amon (a tobacco worker), Angel Tomov, Dimitri Michalis, Salih Ben

  Abdi, Mehmet Nâzımî, Istiryo Nikopoulo, Dimitar Vlahof, and Jacques Ventura.

  The last two represented the Federation in the Turkish Parliament. At the same

  time, trade unions were formed along religious and ethnic lines. These unions

  participated in the struggle for better working conditions and higher wages. The

  organ of the Socialist Federation was Journal del Lavorador ( Laborador). It was

  published in four languages: Ladino, Turkish, Bulgarian, and Greek. Later, due to

  problems with the censor, the name was changed to La Solidaridad Ovradera, La

  Solidarite Ovradera, and Avanti.

  hadar, JeWish toBacco Workers in salonika

  129

  Immediately following the Young Turk Revolution, strikes began in Salonika.

  The first strike in which tens of thousands of workers participated, including

  approximately 10,000 tobacco workers and 3–5,000 dockworkers, railroad

  workers, and bakers, was organized by the tobacco workers’ trade union.12 The

  tobacco workers were the first in the city to for
m a trade union that was part of the

  Socialist Federation. From the very first year of its establishment, female tobacco

  workers were part of the tobacco workers’ organization, though they did not take

  part in its management, nor in committees that negotiated with employers.

  Working Conditions

  The participation of young girls in the work force was, in actuality, an extension

  of their domestic roles. Just like women who went to work as wet nurses,

  seamstresses, servants, and laundresses, in the eyes of the family and of the

  employers, tobacco work too was seen as an extension of women’s household

  duties: sorting (of tobacco leaves), threading (of the leaves on strings), and

  hanging (the leaves to dry).14

  Tobacco work was seasonal, and during times when tobacco was not being

  processed, the young girls worked as servants and laundresses in Jewish, Muslim,

  and Greek houses. The formation of the gender and class identities of these young

  Jewish working class girls took place in the private sphere of the home and—

  quite literally—on the floor of the factory. The word for “on the floor” in Ladino

  is embasho, which also means “below” and carries a certain negative connotation:

  in Ladino, the word basho means “inferior—without education or honor.” Just as

  floor scrubbing was done on one’s knees, so the tobacco work was done while

  sitting on the factory floor (Figure 5.1).

  Young girls aged 12–14 were sent to work as servants in wealthy homes. A

  Swedish tourist who visited the city in March 1900 wrote: “All the laundresses

  and maids, even in non-Jewish homes, are Jewish.”15

  The principal reason for the entrance of young girls into the work force,

  besides the prevailing hunger and poverty, was the need to save money for a

  dowry, a prerequisite for marriage.16 The necessity of providing a dowry was the

  issue around which the life of any family that had been “cursed” with numerous

  daughters revolved. The equation was simple: a rich dowry meant a rich husband—

  a poor dowry, a poor husband—no dowry, no husband. It was estimated in 1910

  that a young girl of the working class would need to work 10 to 15 years to save

  enough money for a dowry.17

  The reputation of young Jewish girls for being industrious workers, together

  with the desire of tobacco companies to save on production costs and increase

  profit, led to the establishment of production lines relying upon the work of

  young Jewish women and girls. The management strategy of tobacco factories

  was based on the family. Companies preferred to employ single young girls who,

  because of their age and the communal and familial nature of Jewish society, were

  considered submissive and obedient, not “troublemakers.” The workers were not

  unknown to one another: fathers, mothers, daughters-in-law, sons-in-law, sisters,

  130

  Women in the ottoman Balkans

  brothers, cousins, and neighbors worked side by side in the drying and sorting

  halls, so that there was constant societal supervision over young girls. Both male

  and female workers worked principally in the sorting and packaging of the tobacco

  leaves according to size, hue, and quality. The workday lasted between 14 and 16

  hours, and took place in dark and dry halls in order to preserve the quality of the

  tobacco leaves. Female workers sat on the floor either in circles or in lines, and

  at their feet lay piles of tobacco leaves to be sorted into baskets. Tobacco dust

  particles, carried in the air, penetrated their lungs and eyes and caused respiratory

  problems, lung infections, tuberculosis, eye infections, and chronic headaches,

  while sitting on the floor caused chronic backaches. In contrast to the textile

  industry, where the rapping noise of the looms made conversation impossible in

  the production hall, the task of sorting tobacco leaves was quiet in and of itself.

  This presented the young girls with a golden opportunity to converse about any

  possible subject, among others their romantic dreams about groom, house, and

  family—dreams that would never come true if the empty dowry chest was not

  filled up with household utensils, bedding, and attire suitable for a bride under

  the wedding canopy. Mixed into this stream of conversation were issues of social

  and political import: the difficult working conditions, long hours, and low wages,

  the discrepancy between the wages paid to males and females performing the

  same tasks, and their living conditions as compared to those of the young girls in

  the wealthy households where they worked when there was nothing to do in the

  tobacco factories. The older women, particularly widows who carried the sole

  financial burden of providing for their children, preferred to do domestic labor.

  Though wages for domestic labor were low, they were steady throughout the year

  and therefore provided more economic security.

  As international demand for tobacco increased and tobacco prices rose, the

  local tobacco industry was able to offer higher wages than those customary in

  the mills and textile factories.18 The division of labor was according to gender.

  Men were employed as overseers, cutters, and porters, and they sorted the high-

  quality tobacco leaves— baş balı—whereas young girls picked the leaves from the

  fields (Figure 5.2) and sorted the lower-quality tobacco leaves— basma, pastalçı,

  mirodatus, and kaba kolak. Furthermore, in cases where both sexes performed the

  same task, female workers received from one third to one half of the men’s wages.

  In one case, for example, men received 20–23 kuruş a day for cutting and sorting,

  whereas young Turkish girls received only 8–10 kuruş a day for the same task.

  Workers’ wages were paid according to gender rather than according to task.19

  Why did the tobacco industry provide the most fertile ground for the new

  socialist ideas, and why did tobacco workers, including young girls, form the

  most militant group of all the trade organizations—the one that led the socialist

  struggle in the city?

  The answer lies in a combination of factors: the relatively large number of

  workers who labored under one roof,20 the fact that the work was seasonal,

  allowing workers time for political and social organization, and the conditions

  under which tobacco leaves were sorted and stringed. Frequent strikes hurt the

  hadar, JeWish toBacco Workers in salonika

  131

  Figure 5.1. A tobacco processing factory at the beginning of the twentieth century.

  Beth Hatefutsoth, Photography Archives, Tel Aviv. Greece, Salonika, 322/111.47.

  factory owners’ income and increased production expenses. Employers tried to

  crush workers’ organizations and reduce production costs by several means. In

  1910 there was even an attempt, through an appeal to the courts, to outlaw the

  tobacco trade union. The court complied with the demands of the factory owners,

  and in response the workers left the factories and laid siege to the courthouse.21

  Another attempt by factory owners to increase production and break the Jewish

  trade union was to institute a seven-day work week. The Herzog factory, whose

  owners were Jewish and which employed 350 Jewish workers along with 30

  Turks
, Bulgarians, and Greeks, decided to continue production on the Sabbath. In

  response, the Jewish female workers went on strike, declaring that they refused to

  work in a factory that did not respect the holiness of the Sabbath.22

  As female workers were paid less than male workers and were considered more

  obedient, girls and young women were hired to replace the men in traditionally

  male positions in the factory, in an attempt to cut costs and optimize efficiency.

  This process of replacing male workers with female workers was part of an overall

  trend taking place in the tobacco industry throughout the Ottoman Empire, and

  which succeeded in particular in Bulgaria.23

  One of the excuses used for firing male workers and replacing them with

  female workers was “safeguarding the honor” of the female workers.24 However,

  it was not “the honor” of female workers that prompted factory owners to invite

  132

  Women in the ottoman Balkans

  Figure 5.2. Six young women picking tobacco leaves under the supervision

  of the husband of one of them and his brother, c. 1920.

  Courtesy of the Mattaraso Family, Haifa.

  Rabbi Meir, Chief Rabbi of Salonika, to inspect the tobacco workshops in order to

  “investigate the claim” that Jewish girls were working alongside Jewish, Greek,

  and Muslim men in the same workshops. Rather, it was their desire to hire female

  workers for traditionally male positions and thus pay female wages. The trade

  union declared:

  The demand to separate the sexes does not arise from the desire of the

  employers to safeguard the honor of their female employees. It is poverty

  which shames the male worker as it does the female worker. It is the Tobacco

  Worker’s Union that protects the honor of the workers, male and female

  alike.25

  The Rabbi inspected and found, to his relief, that in the girls’ workshops there

  were only female workers, and the only males who—infrequently—entered there

  were elderly men.26 From a close inspection of the strikes that broke out at the

  tobacco plant of the Régie Cointeressée des Tabacs de l’Empire Ottoman, we can

  see an illustration of the tactics of replacing male with female workers. During the

  first strike that broke out at the factory in August 1908, 400 male workers and 400

 

‹ Prev