The Jewish Labour Bund is Here and Now
- Dvora Zylberman
- 1 hour ago
- 3 min read
It is tempting, when recording history, to speak of movements as though they belong neatly to the past—contained within a defined era and concluded by a decisive event. The Jewish Labour Bund is often treated in precisely this way: a vibrant force of Jewish socialist life in Eastern Europe, brought to an abrupt end by the devastation of the the Holocaust, or rendered obsolete by the establishment of the State of Israel. However, this framing is not only incomplete—it is misleading.
For some, the Bund’s story ends in destruction. For others, it is eclipsed by competing ideological narratives. Yet neither account captures the lived reality of Bundism as it continues today.
My own life tells a different story.
My childhood was shaped by the Bund—not as a historical subject, but as a living, breathing community and framework. Each morning began with my father’s playful adaptation of the Morgnshtern motto, “frish fray, shtark fray,” setting the tone for the day ahead. My earliest encounters with activism came not from textbooks, but from a stroller at protests. Our evenings at home were busy; my father, Michael Zylberman’s role as Bund Chairperson meant it was frequently visited or called by committee members, international guests, and SKIF leaders, all part of work that extended far beyond our walls.
Much of this life centred around Waks House in Melbourne—a place not of memory, but of ongoing activity. It was there that I attended, and later led at, SKIF, and participated in countless cultural, political, and educational events. From morning to night, I was immersed in a Bundist world that was dynamic, intergenerational, and deeply rooted in community.
It was only later that I realised how invisible this world was to many outside it.
Despite the work of historians and scholars who acknowledge the Bund’s continuation, its present-day existence is often overlooked. There is a tendency to confine the Bund to the past, to tidy its narrative into a closed chapter. But this overlooks a crucial truth: the Bund did not simply disappear—it adapted, migrated, and endures.
Following the upheavals of the mid-20th century, Bundist communities re-established themselves across the globe—in the United States, Argentina, France, Israel, Australia, and elsewhere. Here in Melbourne, the Bund remains an active organisation and community, maintaining a continuous thread that connects past to present.
To describe the Bund solely in the past tense is therefore to misunderstand its essence. Bundism was never only about a particular place or moment—it is a set of values: cultural autonomy, social justice, and the principle of doikayt, or “hereness.” This idea—that Jewish life should be built and sustained wherever Jews find themselves—remains as relevant in Melbourne today as it was in Eastern Europe over a century ago.
The persistence of the Jewish Labour Bund in Melbourne is not an anomaly; it is a testament. It challenges simplified historical narratives and reminds us that movements do not always end where we expect them to. Some continue the difficult work, sustained by community, ideals, history, and commitment.
As a fourth-generation Bundist, I am proud to continue this work as Vice President of the Bund. The Bund has shaped my understanding of the world and my Jewish identity. Together with many other Bundistn, I am committed to ensuring that the next generation can access the same authentic sense of belonging, purpose, and cultural richness. As my niece begins attending SKIF this year, I am reminded that the future of the Bund—and its mission—is strong.
The Jewish Labour Bund is not just a subject of history. In Melbourne, it is a lived experience—spoken in the present tense, and carried forward by those who continue to build, gather, and believe in its ideals. We invite all who share these values to visit and see the Bund in action.
