While much has been written about the Cossacks and their murderous raids against the Jews of Ukraine and Poland,1 not as much is known about their allies, the Tatars.
While the Tatars had no less hatred than the Cossacks, their primary interest lay in making a profit by capturing displaced survivors—easy prey—and selling them in the slave markets of Istanbul.
When the Jewish community of Istanbul became aware of the large numbers of Jewish slaves being brought to their city by the Tatars, they made an organized effort to redeem their Jewish brethren. Eventually, they had to reach out to other Jewish communities for help. The efforts to redeem these captives brought Jews across the world together and rescued thousands of Jews from slavery or worse.
Who Were the Tatars?
In the 17th century, the Tatars lived primarily on the Crimean Peninsula. They were subjects of the Ottoman Empire but retained some independence, living under the rule of a local khan in what was called the Crimean Khanate.
Like the rulers of the Ottoman Empire, the Tatars were Muslim, and thus, religiously and ideologically aligned.
A significant source of their revenue came from the slave trade; the Ottoman authorities welcomed the influx because their economy depended on slave labor.2
The Tatars also provided military support to the Ottoman rulers. According to historian Brian Glyn Williams,3 “In their three hundred years of service, the Crimean Tatars contributed more to the Ottoman military than did any other of the Sultan’s non-Turkish subjects.”
And yet, 17th-century Ukrainian Jews much preferred to fall into the hands of the Tatars than the Cossacks, who, in religious fervor, slaughtered Jews indiscriminately.
The Unlikely Alliance
Poland (which was predominantly Catholic) had recruited the Cossacks (who practiced Eastern Orthodox Christianity) to protect its southern borders, particularly from Tatar raids. But the Cossacks accused the Polish nobles of not keeping their promises, such as paying them regular salaries and improving their social status.
Meanwhile, the fragile peace treaty between Poland and the Crimean Khanate required Poland to pay an annual tribute to the Khan. Poland, however, had neglected to pay the tribute for several years.
The Cossack leader, Bogdan Chmielnicki, saw an opportunity. He formed an alliance with the Khanate to fight their mutual enemy, Poland.
Unfortunately for the Jews, both the Cossacks and the local Ukrainian peasants viewed them as representatives of the Polish authorities, by whom they were often employed.
Historian Adam Teller writes:4
The local population, which consisted mostly of Orthodox Christians, found it demeaning enough to have to serve Roman Catholic lords. To be subservient to a Jewish master was felt to be a terrible humiliation—and a contradiction of the basic structure of a Christian society, in which Jews could be tolerated provided they held no positions of authority over Christians.
So the Cossacks and Ukrainian rebels targeted the Jews, and although a few Jewish communities managed to escape their wrath by paying a large ransom, most were cruelly massacred.
The exception was when the Cossacks could use the Jews to further strengthen their alliance with the Tatars, who had no religious or ideological beef with Poland. Their objective was economic—the chaos of the rebellion gave them more opportunities to capture slaves.
The Tatars captured whoever they could—Catholics, Eastern Orthodox, or Jews. The Cossacks, however, preferred to hand Jews over to the Tatars and protect their own people.
But the Tatars did not wait for gifts from the Cossacks. They captured hundreds of Jews on their own. Those deemed valuable as slaves stood a chance of survival.
In Captivity
The captives intended for sale were chained and marched on foot to Bağçasaray, the capital of the khanate. Though some managed to stay together, most families were permanently separated, none knowing what befell the others.
Many captives did not survive the journey, which lasted several weeks under brutal conditions. Anyone who could not keep up with the fast pace of the march was killed. Historian Alan W. Fisher writes that an Ottoman traveler in the mid-sixteenth century who witnessed one such march complained that their treatment was so bad that the mortality rate would unnecessarily drive their price beyond the reach of potential buyers such as himself.5
Upon arrival in the Crimean Khanate, 10 percent of the captives and booty were presented to the Khan himself and put to work in the palace. Others were sold within the khanate, where the Tatars put them to work in their homes or on their land.
Martin Broniovius, Polish ambassador to Crimea towards the end of the 16th century, observed:
The condition of captives is very miserable among the Tatars, for they are grievously oppressed by them with hunger and nakedness, and the husbandsmen with stripes, so that they rather desire to die than to live.6
The remaining captives, who were not gifted or sold in Crimea, were taken by boat to Istanbul.
The Slave Markets of Istanbul
The voyage to Istanbul took about ten days. Upon arrival, just like in Crimea, 10 percent of the captives were given to the sultan, whose officials would select the strongest men for work in the palace and the most beautiful women for the harem.
In addition, many male captives were immediately put to use as galley slaves, whether in service of the sultan or of individual merchants. This was grueling work with a high mortality rate.
Others were brought to the slave market. Though being placed for sale at the slave market was a humiliating experience, it also enabled the captives to identify themselves as Jews and appeal for help from members of the local community.
Efforts to Redeem the Captives
Aware of the plight of Jewish captives, the Istanbul Jewish community made tremendous efforts to redeem them. Local rabbis visited the slave market daily, looking for Jewish captives. Once a Jewish captive was identified, the rabbis and their assistants would raise money among the local community and negotiate with the slave dealers.
Even before the Cossacks’ alliance with the Tatars, the Istanbul Jewish community created a communal fund and engaged in organized efforts to redeem the unfortunate Jews who found themselves on the slave market.
In the early 17th century, they instituted a special tax, called gabilla, on foreign Jewish merchants trading in Istanbul. Rabbi Yosef Trani, the city’s chief rabbi, explained that the collected tax was intended for the sole purpose of the redemption of captives because “the captives in need of ransom were coming on a daily basis from Russia, and it was everyone’s responsibility to ransom them.”7
As the number of Jews on the slave market increased drastically in the aftermath of the Cossack rebellion, the Istanbul Jewish community found itself in dire need of funds.
Fundraising efforts intensified throughout the community. A contemporary chronicle relates:
The women, too, removed the bands from their waists to pay for the ransom and took them [the ransomed captives] into their homes, where they supported them for a long time.8
Despite these significant efforts, the Jews of Istanbul soon realized that they would not be able to raise enough money locally and turned to European Jewry for help.
Most of Poland and Ukraine, where the captives had come from, had been devastated by the Cossack rebellion and were not in a position to help. The city of Poznan in northwestern Poland, however, was far enough from the war zone, and when they received Istanbul’s call for help, the Jewish community appointed special treasurers to collect money for the cause.9
The Lithuanian Jewish Council responded to the letter from the rabbis of Istanbul by organizing two collections and supplementing them with the Council’s own funds. Still, the total amount they managed to send was not enough to ransom even three captives.10
The most assistance came from the wealthier Sephardic communities in Italy and Venice, where representatives from Istanbul were received with much warmth and care.
Through the combined efforts of Jewish communities across continents, cultures, and currencies, thousands of Jewish captives were redeemed in Istanbul. The exact amount is unknown, but several unrelated sources seem to imply that the vast majority, if not all, captured Jews were eventually redeemed, though in some cases, it took years.
Even non-Jews marveled at the Jewish community’s kindness. In 1684, Edouard Sieur de la Croix, a French diplomat in Istanbul, wrote:
The Jews are extremely charitable. They take great care of the poor, adding to the price of meat one sol per pound. By the end of the year, this makes a large sum, which is used for feeding and supporting the poor, as well as ransoming Jewish slaves, whom the Turks and the Tartars take in addition to the Poles . . . As a result, there are no Jews in the Sultan’s galleys, apart from those convicted [of crimes].11
Redeemed captives expressed tremendous gratitude to the kind Jews of Istanbul. In 1658, Rabbi Yaakov Koppel Margolis, a freed captive from Ukraine, wrote in an introduction to his book:
The renowned leaders, those righteous and pious benefactors of the Istanbul community—and in particular those scholars who study Torah day and night and take care of the Jews held by cruel masters . . . took pity on me and had me ransomed.12
Some of the redeemed Jews were able to return home to Ukraine, while others stayed in the Ottoman Empire and rebuilt their lives within the local Jewish communities.
Overall, the captive experience and the redemption efforts greatly strengthened the ties between Jews worldwide, with Ashkenazic and Sephardic Jews who have been unlikely to meet under other circumstances developing close relationships.
The beginning of this article explains (justifies?) hatred of Jews who were seen as "representatives of the Polish authorities". You should add some background about the situation of Poland before the Jewish immigration of the 13th/14th century (fragmented, destroyed by war and plagued by poverty, violence) and the role of the Jews in investing and managing Poland’s resources allowing it to grow and prosper to the great benefit of the peasants and the gentry. Unfortunately, few Ukrainian peasants of the 17th century, (or non-Jewish inhabitants of Israel ) are aware of what came before the Jews or how the Jews benefitted them. What remains is jealous hatred of their Jewish benefactors. The historical background in Poland is, in fact, discussed shortly by the Previous Rebbe in the book "Memoirs of the Lubavitcher Rebbe"