On August 29, 1897, a congress convened in Basel, Switzerland, comparable in Jewry to the Council of Clermont; for in this congress two hundred and four Jews, acting as delegates of their people from half the countries in the world, assembled at the call of Theodor Herzl to go crusading for the recovery of Palestine. This difference, among others, may be apparent--the Christians sought the recovery of a grave; the Jews, of a cradle. Palestine was to be a cradle in two senses; this Congress, the first body representative of all Jewry to be convened in the Diaspora, claimed the land of Israel not by virtue of a death, but as a birthright, and furthermore hoped to find its recovery the opportunity for the rejuvenation of a people. Quoting from his book, "The Jewish State"[2]--a book journalistic in style, but trumpet-toned in the note it sounded for political Zionism--Theodor Herzl offered the following definition of Zionism after the first Zionist Congress (1897): "Zionism has for its object the creation of a home, secured by public rights, for those Jews who either cannot or will not be assimilated in the country of their adoption."[3] Zionism, in a word, is not the last truism in a weary debate, nor a new verse to an old song; it is, on the contrary, a definite answer to a perplexing and imperative question. What are these Jews who cannot or will not be assimilated, and why cannot or will not they be assimilated? This question constitutes what is known as _the Jewish problem_, or, for those who deny or dislike the term, _the Jewish position_; and this question must first be fully stated before the Zionist or any other answer can be intelligible. _The Isolation of Medieval Jewry_ The Jews in the Middle Ages were considered by themselves, their few friends, and their many enemies, as a twice separated nation--a people separated from those among whom they dwelt and separated from the land in which they originated. They were governed by their own law--the Lex Judæorum--which was recognized by the authorities of the land in which they lived as peculiar and proper to them;[4] they dwelt in communal groups which were bound together by common interests; they observed their own customs and nourished their own culture; they were held to be foreigners, and in a comparison of their own with the Christian civilization, they readily acknowledged this status. The force of persecution without and the religious conviction of superiority, separateness, and nationality within, preserved and constantly increased this solidarity.[5]