Globality and Violence Against Minorities:

Anne Marie Kingsland
Anne Marie Kingsland
25 min readJun 30, 2020

Anti-Foreign Sentiment in the 1905 Russian Revolution and the Mexican Revolution

Czar Nicholas II

Often in history, moments of political revolution are earmarked by violence. In order to initiate or accelerate transition, upheaval takes place. Revolutionaries and the state participate in recurring sequences of offensive and reciprocal actions in the pursuit of power. In the words of David Armitage: “in the years after 1789, revolution developed into an authority in its own, in whose name political violence could be legitimated”.[1] These cycles of violence have a logic to them, a clear formation of dichotomous fronts, which give the illusion of civil war. However, among many of these revolutions is another kind of violence, which cannot be so easily justified. In the midst of chaotic, political uncertainty, the most vulnerable groups of society become easy victims. During the Russian Revolution of 1905, anti-Semitic pogroms swept the country in a scale unseen before in the modern period. These outbursts encouraged mass emigration and Jews fled in high numbers throughout late 1905 and 1906.[2] Similarly, the Mexican Revolution saw an environment of hostility towards members of the Chinese community, leading to discrimination, destruction of property, and murder. These occurrences reached culmination in the formal expulsion of Chinese immigrants and their descendants in the post-revolutionary period.[3] These cases and their later implications raise the question of motivation and suggest a relationship between revolution and violence against minorities.

Frequently, the most convenient conclusion is that of localised racism and the increases of violence are excused as being exacerbated by stressful, revolutionary conditions. In essence, scapegoat theory. In this essay, scapegoat theory refers to an instance where a minority is blamed for the “misfortunes of the majority”, resulting in a targeting of the group as a whole irrespective of specific occupations or political affiliations.[4] This conceptualisation is especially tempting as both societies demonstrate pre-existing discriminatory behaviours towards their respective minority groups. It is important to state that anti-Semitism and anti-Orientalism were not the direct product of revolution, but rather pre-existing socio-cultural elements, often reinforced by governmental policies. For example, within the Russian Empire, the May Laws, enacted in 1882 and repealed in 1917, reinforced segregation and cemented the existence of the Pale of Jewish Settlement.[5] The Chinese community in Mexico was equally isolated, perceived as refusing to integrate or embrace Mexican cultural norms, seemingly deepening the hatred found within the native population.[6] However, traditional racism does not sufficiently contextualise the violence within the broader revolutionary framework and fails to recognise the role and importance of globality and political narrative.

The term globality has a myriad of definitions, but here it refers to a “world in which key conditions have been altered by globalisation”.[7] Importantly, it is not just the presence of globality, but rather the perception of it and its implications that are key to both revolutions. Both Mexico and Russia reached upheaval during a period of substantial global interaction and interference. Their economies and vital industries were dominated by foreign investors, subjugating the countries to their more powerful counterparts. Between 1895 and 1905, Russian debt increased by 1,306 million rubles, and between 66 and 75 percent of it was held by foreign banks.[8] By 1911 in Mexico, almost a billion US dollars would pour into the country to buy up bonds in The National Railways of Mexico and invest in the mining and oil industries.[9] Additionally, both nations suffered under the burden of international, military embarrassment, with Russia losing to Japan in 1905 and Mexico enduring territorial occupations at the hands of the Americans. These occurrences ensured a lack of centralised control within both countries and fostered feelings of resentment. In response to this, both nations seem to have developed a backlash, a denunciation of foreign intervention and a desire to reclaim economic autonomy. This mass consolidation of the nation solidified itself within instances of anti-foreign violence in both states. Additionally, the increased connectivity of the globe and within the nations themselves ensured that this politically motivated message reached the entirety of the nation. Violence against Jews in Russia and Chinese immigrants in Mexico was not simply common twentieth century racism contained to localities, it was the product of revolution and its narrative.

In order to explore this concept, a comparative study of revolutions will be completed, highlighting how differences in population size and distribution, political narrative, and cultural landscape impact the spread and intensity of ethnic persecution. It is crucial that these instances of violence are contextualised within their respective countries, regions, and eras to demonstrate how they are distinct from previous and future occurrences. This is particularly important in the Russian case, where anti-Jewish violence was common place. To distinguish the actions of 1905 from their pre-revolutionary counterparts, a quantitative and qualitative analysis of case studies and a revision of historiography must be conducted. Importantly, this must include an examination of the nature and roots of Russian anti-Semitism.

Anti-Semitism within the Russian Empire can be traced to the incorporation of Ukraine and the partition of Poland over 100 years before the events of 1905. Prior to this territorial acquisition, the Jewish population within Russia was considerably limited, and this was a point of pride. The Russian Muscovy openly praised and celebrated its lack of Jews in the 18th Century.[10] This sentiment was later reflected in the Orthodoxy, Autocracy, and Nationality ideology, an official Russian policy which emphasised ethnic and religious consolidation.[11] However, like in many cases, the greed of imperial expansion triumphed over the desire to remain ethnically homogenous. Between 1772 and 1795, Russia gradually incorporated territories which differed greatly in religion, language, and ethnic makeup. Suddenly, Russia had to decide what to do with large, established Jewish communities to which they were politically opposed.

According to historian Katarzyna Michalak, the new legal status of the Jews rested upon two key concepts: the Jewish oppression and discrimination that existed pre-annexation in Ukraine and the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth and the ideological justification used for invasion.[12] Anti-Semitism already existed in the newly acquired region, so the Russian government simply had to affirm its existence through official policy. This also supported the Russian reasoning for invasion, that they were protecting the Orthodox Russian population of the region from oppression at the hands of “Catholics and their Jewish agents”.[13] The result was the creation of the Pale of Jewish Settlement, which enclosed Jews within their then contemporary setting, preventing them from moving further into the Russian Empire, and forcing them to remain within segregated communities. This was highly unlike western Europe, which at the time was beginning to gradually integrate Jews and relax restrictive laws.[14] Importantly, this meant that regional anti-Semitism, fuelled by rumours and stereotypes continued unquestioned, and was contained within the Empire’s southern regions of Poland, Lithuania, and Ukraine. Historian Steven Beller stated that the actions of the state ensured that there was “no significant break between the traditional anti-Judaism of the medieval period” and the sentiments of the twentieth century, as they were a mere continuation of “traditional Christian anti-Judaism”.[15] Additionally, the containment of the Jewish community and their inability to spread meant they remained in highly “visible and vulnerable positions” and they often fell victim to “sporadic and non-ideological” violence.[16] Motives for violent outbursts were unsophisticated and unplanned, a mere instinctual response to stress.

Pogroms of the nineteenth and the beginnings of the twentieth century follow this model. The most note worthy occurrences were within the Pale after the assassination of Tsar Alexander II in 1881. Older historians have indicated that these pogroms were the product of some sort of political conspiracy intended on redirecting public hatred for the government towards the Jewish community, however, these theories have been largely dismissed.[17] Reports that the Jews were involved in the assassination of the Tsar seem to have had a more significant effect. These rumours, which in some cases were “purposely spread”, ensured the already nervous lower classes lashed out against their Jewish neighbours.[18] The perpetrators of violence were mostly urban peasants, who upon the assassination faced significant governmental instability and a fear of the return of serfdom.[19] Additionally, the event’s proximity to Easter heightened superstitious panic. Mob slogans often drew parallels between the belief the Jews were responsible for the crucifixion of Christ and the circumstances of the Tsar’s death.[20] These factors indicate the violence was rooted in traditional anti-Semitism rather than genuine political ideology, as there was no “rational course for the popular movement manifested in the pogroms”.[21] This is supported by their “over-all spontaneous character”, especially in terms of location and timing.[22] While pogroms were widespread, they do not seem overly interconnected, suggesting a continuance of scapegoatism.

Upon the declaration of the October Manifesto, widespread anti-Jewish pogroms erupted across Russia. 690 pogroms occurred in “660 cities, towns, and villages from 18 to 29 October 1905”, during which 3,100 Jews were killed and 17,000 Jews were injured.[23] Most of these pogroms occurred within the Pale of Jewish Settlement, more specifically Ukraine, where the vast majority of Jews resided.[24] Due to this concentration of localities, many historians have concluded that the violence of 1905 was not dissimilar in nature from the waves of anti-Jewish brutality which previously plagued the Pale, like in 1881. In essence, its origins were little more than traditional, medieval anti-Semitism, passed from generation to generation creating “long-standing ethnic and religious antagonisms”.[25] However, this hasty conclusion fails to reconcile the drastic escalation of violence during the revolutionary period and the reality that some pogroms took place outside the Pale of Jewish Settlement, in areas which had little to no Jewish population at all. For example, Tver, a provincial town outside the Pale erupted into violence in a similar fashion to Odessa or Kiev, but most victims were not Jews, they were students and professionals.[26] While the brutality against Jews is undeniable, it must be contextualised within the broader period, which was one of violent strikes, riots, and pogroms not directed at the Jewish community. To quote historian Shlomo Lambroza, “the early twentieth century saw an increase of violence in Russian life” from the “random violence of rural Russia” to the “the violence of the peasant-proletarian in the burgeoning industrial centres”.[27]

In order to determine a clear picture of motivations for violence other than pre-existing anti-Semitism a study of pogroms outside the Pale must be conducted. Ekaterinburg, a city situated almost a thousand miles East of Moscow and well-outside the Pale, marked the October manifesto with political demonstrations which progressed into a riot and then a pogrom. While its scale was small in comparison to other pogroms of the era — only 2 people were killed and 22 injured — the instance is particularly notable, as Ekaterinburg was not considered particularly pre-disposed to violence.[28] Despite its large population and number of factories, the city had not experienced pogroms or violent demonstrations before 1905, and this is reflected in the reaction of locals and officials in the wake of events. After the dust cleared, printing presses and businesses were forcibly closed, people were discouraged from assembling in groups, and residents denied that “their” violence was part of the common disruptions found elsewhere in the Empire.[29] To some extent, the populace was right. The instance in Ekaterinburg did not and does not resemble the traditional anti-Semitic violence Russia had previously seen and was expecting. However, Jews within Ekaterinburg were still targeted at a disproportionally higher rate than would be expected in an area with limited exposure to traditional anti-Judaism. In a population of 43,239 people, only 212 were Jewish, significantly less than one percent, and yet of the 24 victims, four were Jews.[30] This suggests that the Jewish identity had become tied to something larger, more political, contemporary, and wide-reaching.

While traditional anti-Semitism cannot be completely removed from consideration of causes in Ekaterinburg, its impacts seem particularly limited. The Orthodox Church attempted to mass distribute copies of the “Thoughts on the Jews when reading Liutostanskii’s Talmud”, a radical pamphlet which claimed “exploitation of the Christians is the historical and most characteristic trait of Jewry”.[31] However, it does not seem to have had a significant effect or been substantially disseminated. Historian Dakota Irvin stated that while anti-Semitism did play a role, “it would be difficult to say that the violence was primarily anti-Semitic in nature”.[32] Instead the treatment of Jews in Ekaterinburg most likely stemmed from their perceived involvement in the revolutionary movement and proximity to students, strikers, and intellectuals. In the wake of the October Manifesto, right-wing nationalists keen on preserving Tsarist control led violent counter-revolutionary riots throughout Russia and many of these would become or be labelled pogroms. Most important to these assaults was the Black Hundred, an especially radical group who continued to embrace the Orthodoxy, Autocracy, and Nationality ideology, rejecting foreign interference in Russia. Unlike the pogroms which predated 1905, whose participants were urban peasants stirred by rumours and myths, the Black Hundred was an organised political organisation keen on stopping and reversing the revolution. They led direct assaults against the Jews, but also encouraged the masses to view Jews as foreign and invading, “believing them to be the main instigators of the opposition to Tsar Nicholas”.[33]Importantly, this is a departure from longstanding anti-Semitism, as the position of the Jews was now framed within the context of the revolution. Additionally, the Black Hundred did not stop at the Jews, building environments of hostility towards many minorities and revolutionary actors.

The influence of the Black Hundred was far reaching, impacting towns with and without pogroms. In Moscow and St. Petersburg, pogroms against the Jews did not take place but the “gangs of Black Hundreds, armed with flagpoles hunted for intelligentsia and students in the streets”.[34] In Tver, a town of “very few Jews”, Black Hundreds planned and carried out mass riots against members of the zemstvo, with the belief they had disrespected a picture of the Tsar.[35] In Ekaterinburg, where Jews were targeted, this was done in conjuncture with much larger attacks against students and intellectuals.[36] In the Caucasus, which had a considerably small population of Jews, anti-Armenian pogroms took place, which were highly “similar to the anti-Jewish pogroms”.[37] Now it is important to state that these other groups were not selected as alternative scapegoats when a significant Jewish population could not be found, but rather as within the same classification as the Jews: foreign enemies. Jews and “Japanese belligerents, anarchist terrorists, intelligentsia liberals and revolutionaries, foreigners, striking workers, students and even school kids” were blamed and targeted by “patriotic” groups such as the Black Hundred in an attempt to stabilise and centralise Russia in the face of globalisation.[38] This belief found support not just within the propaganda of these groups but within the larger socio-cultural context of Russia.

Prior to the revolution, an interesting evolution of language was taking place, one which reflects the Russian desire to reject foreign cultures, societies, and people, and turn back towards tradition. The terms “the cosmopolitan” and “cosmopolitanism” began to emerge during the mid-nineteenth century, its definition is debated, but its use was almost always negative, perceived as a “simple absence of patriotism or love towards one’s own people and fatherland”.[39] Its use heightened during periods of economic uncertainty and political unrest, and the term became almost synonymous with Jews, reflecting the conceptualisation they were agents of modern, foreign capitalism.[40] The adoption of and belief in “cosmopolitanism” carried significant consequences, as historian Erich Haberer suggested it fundamentally shaped modern, Russian anti-Semitism at the turn of the century and undoubtedly impacted the narrative and violence of revolution.[41] Importantly, as conditions worsened and the October Manifesto approached, the application of the term expanded in one sense and contracted in another. It widened to become a “generic term for all conceptualisations of the political enemy” of the far-right and when referencing Jews was only used in relation to liberal Jews, never their rural counterparts.[42] Cosmopolitans were now anyone perceived to be involved in the revolution and against the Nationalists, not a mere synonym for broader Jewish population.

This mass grouping suggests that the violence of 1905 was intended to target not merely Jews, but all those perceived to be foreign or forcibly modernising Russia in the image of the West or both. This sentiment is confirmed when examining the perception of students during the events leading up to the 1905 revolution. In accounts of many pogroms, Jews and students are grouped together, labelled as “agitators” and feeding the “intoxication of the people”.[43]In towns within the Pale the two groups interacted significantly, with Jews participating in student strikes in Odessa and Kiev.[44] Even with no significant ethnic or religious difference between most students and the perpetrators of violence, students were still perceived as foreign and invading. “The pogroms reemphasized the ominous fact that wide sections of Russia’s urban population viewed the academic community and especially the studenchestvo as representative of a hostile social force, interlopers from an alien world.”[45] Students were a threat to the traditional hierarchy within urban centres and reminders of the change to come. As has already been demonstrated, “considerable parts of Russian society, especially within the nationalist and reactionary elites, viewed all developments of political, economic or social change inside Russia with deep mistrust”.[46]

While there are clear indications that the anti-Judaism of the 1905 Revolution was grounded in a modern, political identity, a large number of historians studying the pogroms continue to view the events through the lens of traditional anti-Semitism. This largely stems from the belief that Jews were disproportionality targeted during the violent outbursts. As historian Gerald Surh states in reference to the pogrom in Ekaterinoslav: despite Russia’s many perceived enemies, patriots “unleashed their aggression principally on [the] Jewish population”.[47] In towns within the Pale which saw a significant number of Jewish deaths, violence was often less structured, initiated by political groups but accelerated by unskilled labourers, keen to “engage in campaigns of violence and destruction”, but “less enticed by politics than by vodka and money”.[48] Additionally, violence was perceivably worse in towns with large, established Jewish communities as the preceding pogroms encouraged the formation of Jewish self-defence leagues which in some cases antagonised counterrevolutionaries. What is clear is the cause of pogroms was multifaceted, containing both national political sentiments and localised beliefs. A clearer picture of anti-foreign sentiment would undoubtedly be found if comparative studies of pogroms and generalised violence were conducted, but this sort of research is challenging.

As has been shown through a study of Ekaterinburg, the greatest clarity is obtained through instances of micro history. However, studies of these sort are limited as they require extensive work within local archives, some of which were impacted by the rise of the Bolsheviks in 1917. “Bolshevik memoirists attempted to paint the rioters in the worst possible light” often over-emphasising anti-Semitism.[49] Additionally, the most considered pogroms, those of Kiev, Odessa, and Ekaterinoslav, are often studied through the lens of Jewish history not Russian history, so analysis can lack grounding within the broader Empire and revolution. Works which have attempted broader comparative studies often separate pogroms into groups based upon the victims and perpetrators. For example, Samuel D. Kassow recognises intelligentsia, military, and anti-Jewish pogroms as three distinct groups.[50] While this break-down makes the period more understandable, it fails to acknowledge that these “models and types were fluid, and that often the distinction between intelligentsia, revolutionaries and Jews was purposely ascribed and blurred by both sides”.[51]

Even more complicated, the terminology of the period does not seem definitively defined. The term pogrom is most associated with instances of anti-Jewish violence, but some historians use it more liberally or restrict this definition further. “Admittedly, there is a growing tendency among historians to doubt whether the term ‘pogrom’ can be applied to all anti-Jewish acts of violence from the 1870s to the early 1920s, as there are very large differences between the various outbreaks of violence”.[52] This lack of consistency permeates into other categorisations as well, including those of the Black Hundred and students. Often in primary sources, the terms “hooligans” and the “Black Hundred” were used “interchangeably” making it difficult to distinguish genuine political claims from criminals and opportunists.[53]Additionally, historian Stefan Wiese states that concept of the “Black Hundred” was created by the “liberal and leftist intelligentsia” who believed that the common peasant could not engage in collective action if they did not have “outside leadership”.[54] The over-application of the term may overstate the role of purposeful counterrevolutionaries or overshadow the political awareness of the lower classes. Even the simple label of student has been challenged, with Perrie noting that it was often used to “refer to anyone, including peasants, with radical or oppositional views”, it was no longer an academic term, but a political one.[55] If these groupings are not accurate, it becomes extremely difficult to determine who the perpetrators and victims of violence were. This is in stark contrast to the label of Jew, which was reinforced through census documents and burial records. In theory, the presence and death of Jews can be more easily identified and this may cause the violence of 1905 to appear broadly anti-Semitic, rather than anti-foreign and counterrevolutionary in nature.

While the study of the pogroms in Russia during 1905 is deeply complicated by pre-existing instances of anti-Jewish sentiment, anti-Chinese violence in Mexico is more definitively tied to the revolutionary movement, an awareness of globality, and a resentment of foreign interference. Chinese immigration to Mexico was highly limited until the 1893 Treaty of Amity and Commerce between the Chinese government and President Porfirio Díaz. It granted Chinese immigrants the same rights and protections as those of the “most favoured nation” and encouraged a gradual stream of Chinese immigrants into the country.[56] This was only invigorated by the fact that Chinese immigrants were banned from entering the United States, so Mexico became a convenient alternative destination. They moved throughout the nation, but they concentrated particularly in port cities on the Western coast, in Guayman and Mazatlán, the Yucatán, and many of the northern states.[57] By 1910, their population was still small in comparison to the rest of the country, an estimated 30,000, but their position within society was growing in prominence, playing an important role in “shaping” the country and border regions through their socio-economic movement.[58]

Instances of violence and discrimination against the Chinese population prior to the revolutionary period are not unheard of, but their occurrence was particularly limited. Both historians Charles C. Cumberland and Philip A. Dennis acknowledge their existence, but conclude that: “the hostility was quiescent rather than active”.[59] The first significant example of direct violence against the Chinese community occurred during the overthrow of Díaz in 1911 in the town of Torreón, Coahuila. There the forces of Francisco Madero combined with a mob of over 4,000 locals and ransacked the town. The group released prisoners and looted stores, but “centred most of its fury on foreigners”.[60] More than this, the rioters specifically targeted the Chinese, killing 303 over the course of a few hours.[61] While the group also attacked property owned by American investors, the intensity of brutality was clearly not the same, and this has led some historians to question the narrative of broader anti-foreign violence, instead citing motives of racism and economic envy.[62]

The identification of racism and economic resentment as the primary motivation for the attacks in not unfounded. In Torreon, and other Northern states, the Chinese had risen significantly within the class structure, coming to own large portions of property and a number of prominent businesses, dominating “the retail and money lending sectors”.[63]Importantly, they controlled “local wholesale and retail grocery trade”, which meant local Mexicans were entirely dependent on them for food.[64] Propaganda of the period often utilised racial slurs and common misconceptions to turn the people against the immigrants. The Chinese were accused of being unclean and their frequent position of “food handlers” meant they were “blamed for epidemic diseases, which were common”.[65] Mexicans also viewed the neutrality of the Chinese in relation to politics as suspicious, believing “any individual not actively supporting the particular faction in momentary control was judged to be favourably inclined to the enemy, whoever he might be”.[66]These factors combine to make the Chinese community appear to be a “scapegoat” for the problems of the northern states.[67] However, almost every instance of anti-Chinese sentiment and violence can be traced back to their association with a broader sense of globalisation, modernisation, and inter-connectedness.

When anti-Chinese activists from the northern states listed their grievances, one of most common was the Chinese domination of local industries. They believed that the Chinese could keep their prices lower because they had “access to cohesive business networks that reached into the United States, the Caribbean, and Central America”.[68] They also thought that the Chinese were bribing the Porfirian government to gain preferential treatment and secure their business interests.[69] Both of these sentiments sound like a broader rejection of international interaction with the Mexican state and are reminiscent of anti-American attitudes during the same period. Mexicans often displayed their dislike for the American control of industry and a common slogan during the reign of Díaz was: “Mexico, mother of foreigners and stepmother of Mexicans”.[70] While these instances are clearly xenophobic, they were not born from a tribal nationalism, but rather a desire to “Mexicanize the country and its economy”.[71] While the Chinese were targeted more than Americans or Spanish residents, this may have simply been a product of accessibility. The interactions between the Mexicans and Chinese were “more intimate and frequent” then that of the Mexicans and Americans, making the settled Chinese the figure-heads of the anti-foreign movement.[72]

The targeting of Chinese immigrants was also directly tied to their association with Americans and their businesses. Sinophobic violence was most common in northern states because of the concentration of Chinese immigrants, but also due to the large number of American-held investments.[73] A significant Chinese population lived in the southern states, namely Yucatán, but anti-Chinese violence was limited or non-existent. It would appear, that the borderlands created an environment where foreign interference was obvious and this heightened tensions during a revolution which emphasised its negative effects. Chinese labourers were often moved into areas to better serve American industries. For example, in Mexicali, Baja California, Chinese workers were exclusively recruited to work on farms owned by American investors.[74] Importantly, when violence against minorities did break out in these areas, its origins were unlike the military riot of Torreón, as they possessed a more structured nature. In towns such as Magdalena and Cananea, anti-Chinese instances often began as general anti-foreign protests or labour demonstrations. Historian Evelyn Hu-DeHart found a similarity between these occurrences and pre-revolutionary “hostility” directed “toward the American owners and managers”, suggesting that the Chinese community became victims due a “guilt by association”.[75] More broadly, even when Chinese immigrants worked for themselves or smaller local industries, they became associated with Americans and their capital “in the sense that heavy U.S. investments in mines and railroads stimulated the kind of growth that provided economic opportunities for them”.[76] The higher number of attacks against the Chinese community and their businesses in comparison to their American counterparts is most likely the product of differences in economic class. Americans were almost all within the upper-classes and their holdings were “well armed and well protected”.[77]When they could be found, lower-class Americans did become victims of mob violence, with many railroad workers badly beaten throughout the northern states.[78]

Like in Russia, other minority populations deemed to be foreign were often targeted in addition to the Chinese community. Small pockets of Mormons, also scattered throughout the northern states, were chased out of the country by revolutionary forces and locals beginning in 1910.[79] More interestingly, the revolution also came to oppose a group of elites labelled the “científicos”, who were accused of seeking foreign collaboration and modernisation in order to rapidly develop Mexico’s natural resources.[80] While this identification is broad and largely debated, it appears they were mainly well-educated, middle to upper-class liberals, who achieved notoriety through their business connections.[81] The non-specificity of the term seems to have served a purpose, as it allowed revolutionaries and the media to negatively refer to any significant Mexican person who invited foreign interaction. In this way, these figures became just as despised as the Americans or the Chinese as they were responsible for Mexico’s continued subjugation. Clearly, ideas of modernisation, in both philosophy and economy, were seen as harmful to the well-being of an independent Mexico and these concepts were irrevocably tied to encroaching foreign interests. The more Mexicans became more aware of their place within the global capitalistic network, the more they rejected it, instead opting to consolidate within themselves. This meant that Mexico strived to become a “racially homogeneous nation”, but this was not born from racism, it stemmed from an awareness of globality.[82]

Within Russia and Mexico, violence against minorities was a direct product of the global age. Both countries suffered under the weight of international interference and this brewed a strong anti-foreign sentiment which opposed capitalism, Western intellectualism, and modernism. For this reason, the very concept of “progress came hand-in-hand with nationalist anxieties”.[83] This hostility searched for embodiments of these concepts and found them within various communities within their society, directing hatred, discrimination, and violence. The visible and vulnerable members of these nations became the most common victims because they were easily identified and targeted. Violence against the Jews in Russia and the Chinese in Mexico were not mere episodes of racial tension, but proof of an expanding concept of globality and the oppressive implications that were perceived to come with it.

[1] David Armitage, 2015. ‘Every Great Revolution Is a Civil War’. In Scripting Revolution: A Historical Approach to the Comparative Study of Revolutions, ed. Keith Michael Baker and Dan Edelstein (Stanford, 2015), p. 57.

[2] Eli Lederhendler, ‘Democracy and Assimilation: The Jews, America, and the Russian Crisis from Kishinev to the End of World War I’. In The Revolution of 1905 and Russia’s Jews, edited by Stefani Hoffman and Ezra Mendelsohn, (Pennsylvania, 2008), pp. 252.

[3] Philip A. Dennis, “The Anti-Chinese Campaigns in Sonora, Mexico.” Ethnohistory, vol. 26, no. 1 (1979), pp. 65–80.

[4] Irena Grosfeld, Seyhun O. Sakalli, and Ekaterina Zhuravskaya. “Middleman Minorities and Ethnic Violence: Anti-Jewish Pogroms in the Russian Empire.” The Review of Economic Studies, 2019.

[5] Katarzyna Michalak, et al., “The Legal Position of Rural Jews in the Russian Empire.” In Movable Inn: The Rural Jewish Population of Minsk Guberniya in 1793–1914, ed. by Judith Kalik, (Berlin; Boston, 2018), pp. 35–50.

[6] James R. Curtis, “Mexicali’s Chinatown.” Geographical Review, vol. 85, no. 3 (1995), pp. 335–348.

[7] James W. Frey, “The Global Moment: The Emergence of Globality, 1866–1867, and the Origins of Nineteenth-Century Globalization: Global Moment.” Historian, vol. 81, no. 1, (2019), pp. 9–56.

[8] Jennifer Siegel, “The Russian Revolution of 1905 in the Eyes of Russia’s Financiers.” Revolutionary Russia, vol. 29, no. 1 (2016), pp. 24–42.

[9] John Skirius, “Railroad, Oil and Other Foreign Interests in the Mexican Revolution, 1911–1914.” Journal of Latin American Studies, vol. 35, no. 1 (2003), pp. 25–51.

[10] Steven Beller, Antisemitism: a Very Short Introduction. (Oxford, 2015), p 28–30.

[11] Geoffrey Hosking, Russia: People and Empire, 1552–1917. (Harvard, 1997), p 397.

[12] Michalak, “The Legal Position of Rural Jews.” In Movable Inn, pp. 35–50.

[13] Michalak, “The Legal Position of Rural Jews.” In Movable Inn, pp. 35–50.

[14] Beller, Antisemitism: a Very Short Introduction. p 28–30.

[15] Beller, Antisemitism: a Very Short Introduction. p 28–30.

[16] John Klier and Sholmo Lambroza. Pogroms: Anti-Jewish Violence in Modern Russian History. (Cambridge, 1999), p 191–193.

[17] Simon Dubnow and Israel Friedlaender. History of the Jews in Russia and Poland. (Alexandria, 1967), Gutenberg, n.p.

[18] M. Mishkinsky, “The Attitude of the Southern-Russian Workers’ Union toward the Jews (1880–1881).” Harvard Ukrainian Studies, vol. 6, no. 2, (1982), pp. 191–216.

[19] Michael. I. Aronson, “Geographical and Socioeconomic Factors in the 1881 Anti-Jewish Pogroms in Russia.” Vol. 39, no. 1, (1980), pp. 18–31.

[20] Mishkinsky, “The Attitude of the Southern-Russian Workers’ Union toward the Jews (1880–1881).” pp. 191–216.

[21] Mishkinsky, “The Attitude of the Southern-Russian Workers’ Union toward the Jews (1880–1881).” pp. 191–216.

[22] Aronson, “Geographical and Socioeconomic Factors in the 1881 Anti-Jewish Pogroms in Russia.” pp. 18–31.

[23] Victoria Khiterer, “The October 1905 Pogroms and the Russian Authorities.” Nationalities Papers, vol. 43, no. 5, (2015), pp. 788–803.

[24] Khiterer, “The October 1905 Pogroms and the Russian Authorities.” pp. 788–803.

[25] Robert Weinberg, “Workers, Pogroms, and the 1905 Revolution in Odessa.” The Russian Review, vol. 46, no. 1, (1987), pp. 53–75.

[26] Hugh Phillips, “Riots, Strikes and Soviets: The City of Tver in 1905.” Revolutionary Russia, vol. 17, no. 2, (2004), pp. 49–66.

[27] Klier and Sholmo Lambroza. Pogroms, p 191–193.

[28] Dakota Irvin, “Blood on the Square: Perspectives on Revolutionary Violence and Disorder in 1905 Ekaterinburg.” Revolutionary Russia, vol. 29, no. 1, (2016), pp. 43–65.

[29] Irvin, “Blood on the Square.” pp. 43–65.

[30] Irvin, “Blood on the Square.” pp. 43–65.

[31] Pål Kolstø, “Competing with Entrepreneurial Diasporians: Origins of Anti-Semitism in Nineteenth-Century Russia.” Nationalities Papers, vol. 42, no. 4, (2014), pp. 691–707.

[32] Irvin, “Blood on the Square.” pp. 43–65.

[33] Abraham Ascher, The Revolution of 1905. (Stanford, 1992), p.131–133.

[34] Ascher, The Revolution of 1905. p.131–133.

[35] Phillips, “Riots, Strikes and Soviets.” pp. 49–66.

[36] Irvin, “Blood on the Square.” pp. 43–65.

[37] Khiterer, “The October 1905 Pogroms and the Russian Authorities.” pp. 788–803.

[38] Gerald Surh, “Ekaterinoslav City in 1905: Workers, Jews, and Violence.” International Labor and Working-Class History, vol. 64, no. 64, (2003), pp. 139–166.

[39] Frank Grüner, “‘Russia’s Battle Against the Foreign’: The Anti-Cosmopolitanism Paradigm in Russian and Soviet Ideology.” European Review of History: Revue Europeenne d’Histoire, vol. 17, no. 3, (2010), pp. 445–472.

[40] Grüner, “‘Russia’s Battle Against the Foreign’”, pp. 445–472.

[41] Erich Haberer, “Cosmopolitanism, Antisemitism, and Populism: a Reappraisal of the Russian and Jewish Socialist Response to the Pogroms of 1881–1882.” In Pogroms: Anti-Jewish Violence in Modern Russian History, ed. John Klier and Shlomo Lambroza, (Cambridge, 2007), pp. 62–97.

[42] Grüner, “‘Russia’s Battle Against the Foreign’”, pp. 445–472.

[43] Maureen Perrie, “The Russian Peasant Movement of 1905–1907: Its Social Composition and Revolutionary Significance.” Past & Present, no. 57, (1972), pp. 123–155.

[44] Robert Weinberg, “The Pogrom of 1905 in Odessa: a Case Study.” In Pogroms: Anti-Jewish Violence in Modern Russian History, ed. John Klier and Shlomo Lambroza, (Cambridge, 2007), pp. 248–290.

[45] Samuel D. Kassow, Students, Professors, and the State in Tsarist Russia. (Berkeley, 1989), p 275–280.

[46] Grüner, “‘Russia’s Battle Against the Foreign’”, pp. 445–472.

[47] Surh, “Ekaterinoslav City in 1905: Workers, Jews, and Violence”, pp. 139–166.

[48] Robert Weinberg, “The Pogrom of 1905 in Odessa: a Case Study”, pp. 248–290.

[49] Irvin, “Blood on the Square.” pp. 43–65.

[50] Kassow, Students, Professors, and the State in Tsarist Russia, p 275–280.

[51] Irvin, “Blood on the Square.” pp. 43–65.

[52] Darius Staliūnas, “Dusetos, Easter 1905: The Story of One Pogrom.” Journal of Baltic Studies, vol. 43, no. 4, (2012), pp. 495–514.

[53] Irvin, “Blood on the Square.” pp. 43–65.

[54] Stefan Wiese, “Jewish Self-Defense and Black Hundreds in Zhitomir. A Case Study on the Pogroms of 1905 in Tsarist Russia.” Quest. Issues in Contemporary Jewish History, no. 3, (2012).

[55] Perrie, “The Russian Peasant Movement of 1905–1907”, pp. 123–155.

[56] Charles C. Cumberland, “The Sonora Chinese and the Mexican Revolution.” Hispanic American Historical Review, vol. 40, no. 1, (1960), pp. 191–211.

[57] Dennis, “The Anti-Chinese Campaigns in Sonora, Mexico,” pp. 65–80.

[58] Curtis, “Mexicali’s Chinatown,” pp. 335–348.

[59] Cumberland, “The Sonora Chinese and the Mexican Revolution,” pp. 191–211.

[60] Leo M. Dambourges Jacques, “The Chinese Massacre in Torreon (Coahuila) in 1911.” Arizona and the West, vol. 16, no. 3, (1974), pp. 233–246.

[61] Jacques, “The Chinese Massacre in Torreon (Coahuila) in 1911,” pp. 233–246.

[62] Gerardo Rénique, “Race, Mestizaje and Nationalism: Sonora’s Anti-Chinese Movement and State Formation in Post-Revolutionary Mexico.” Political Power and Social Theory 14 (2000), pp 91–140.

[63] Jürgen Buchenau, “Small Numbers, Great Impact: Mexico and its Immigrants, 1821–1973.” Journal of American Ethnic History, vol. 20, no. 3, (2001), pp. 23–49.

[64] Jacques, “The Chinese Massacre in Torreon (Coahuila) in 1911,” pp. 233–246.

[65] Dennis, “The Anti-Chinese Campaigns in Sonora, Mexico,” pp. 65–80.

[66] Cumberland, “The Sonora Chinese and the Mexican Revolution,” pp. 191–211.

[67] Dennis, “The Anti-Chinese Campaigns in Sonora, Mexico,” pp. 65–80.

[68] Grace Delgado, Making the Chinese Mexican: Global Migration, Localism, and Exclusion in the U.S.-Mexico Borderlands. (Stanford, 2013), p 106.

[69] Delgado, Making the Chinese Mexican, p 106.

[70] Benjamin Keen and Keith Haynes, A History of Latin America. (Wadsworth, 2013), p 250.

[71] Curtis, “Mexicali’s Chinatown,” pp. 335–348.

[72] Rénique, “Race, Mestizaje and Nationalism”, pp 91–140.

[73] Rénique, “Race, Mestizaje and Nationalism”, pp 91–140.

[74] Julian Lim, “Chinos and Paisanos: Chinese Mexican Relations in the Borderlands.” Pacific Historical Review, vol. 79, no. 1, (2010), pp. 50.

[75] Evelyn Hu-DeHart, “Immigrants to a Developing Society: The Chinese in Northern Mexico, 1875–1932.” The Journal of Arizona History, vol. 21, no. 3, (1980), pp. 275–312.

[76] Hu-DeHart, “Immigrants to a Developing Society,” pp. 275–312.

[77] Buchenau, “Small Numbers, Great Impact: Mexico and its Immigrants,” pp. 23–49.

[78] Frederick C. Turner, “Anti-Americanism in Mexico, 1910–1913.” The Hispanic American Historical Review, vol. 47, no. 4, (1967), pp. 502–518.

[79] John B. Wright, “Mormon Colonias of Chihuahua.” Geographical Review, vol. 91, no. 3, (2001), pp. 586–596.

[80] Keen and Haynes, A History of Latin America, p 250.

[81] Claudio Lomnitz, “Anti-Semitism and the Ideology of the Mexican Revolution.” Representations, vol. 110, no. 1, (2010), pp. 1–28.

[82] Kanji Sato, “Formation of La Raza and the Anti‐Chinese Movement in Mexico.” Transforming Anthropology, vol. 14, no. 2, (2006), pp. 181–186.

[83] Lomnitz, “Anti-Semitism and the Ideology of the Mexican Revolution,” pp. 1–28.

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Anne Marie Kingsland
Anne Marie Kingsland

A writer and financial analyst finding interesting stories that reveal a bigger truth.