Life in Shtetl

This text is based on a story by Israel Lempert

“Shtetl” is a Yiddish word meaning “town.” However, in Jewish history, not every town was called a shtetl—this term was reserved for places where Jews made up a significant portion of the population, shaping the town’s entire character and rhythm of life. In Lithuania, many towns had Jewish populations that made up half or even more of the residents. While the roots of the Lithuanian nation were in the countryside, the roots of Litvak identity were in the shtetls.

Shtetls began forming in the 18th century. Nobles, hoping to stimulate local economic activity, encouraged Jews to settle nearby. The market was the central element of the town, and once a town was granted market rights, Jews quickly moved in.

They became intermediaries between rural villagers and larger cities. Villagers could sell their farm products and buy goods like kerosene, salt, and nails. Nobles rented land to Jews, who built homes and expanded the towns. Land was also donated for synagogues and cemeteries.

As the Jewish population grew, so did their influence in shtetls. After the partitions of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth (1772, 1793, and 1795), many Jews found themselves confined to the Pale of Settlement within the Russian Empire. They were prohibited from living outside designated areas and banned from rural villages, which led to even denser concentrations in shtetls. By the 1897 census, Jews comprised more than half the population in many Lithuanian and Belarusian towns and cities.

Life in the shtetl was vibrant and deeply rooted in Jewish tradition. Each town had its essential institutions: a synagogue, a mikveh (ritual bath), a cemetery, a cheder (religious primary school), and a hut where the shoichet (ritual butcher) worked. Even the presence of a meshugener (a mentally ill individual) was almost a given—each shtetl had its characters.

The synagogue was the center of Jewish life and often served three functions: a house of prayer (beis tefilah), a house of study (beis medresh), and a community meeting place (beis knesset). In larger shtetls, multiple synagogues coexisted. Elderly men spent long hours studying the Talmud, and on the Sabbath, everyone sought spiritual rejuvenation after the week’s toil.

The rabbi was the most respected figure in the shtetl—both spiritual leader and, if there was one, head of the local yeshiva. Cantors and preachers (maggidim) were also esteemed, with some traveling between communities.

Life-cycle events were strictly observed according to Jewish law. Boys were circumcised on the eighth day. At 13, a boy became bar mitzvah, marking his religious coming of age with great celebration in the synagogue. Orthodox Litvaks did not observe bat mitzvah for girls. Weddings, led by a rabbi, were joyous occasions with klezmer music and dancing. Burials took place the same day; mourners observed shiva, sitting low to the ground, not leaving the house for seven days.

Religious holidays structured the year. On Shabbat, no work was done. Even the poorest families tried to lay a festive table with challah (braided bread) and gefilte fish. The fish was boneless, as separating bones was considered work and thus forbidden. Major holidays—Pesach, Hanukkah, Sukkot—were observed in religious and non-religious homes alike, out of respect for tradition. During Pesach, homes were cleared of bread and filled with matzos. During Sukkot, families built sukkahs—huts made of boards and fir branches.

With time, secularism began to take root. Freethinkers emerged, yet the public violation of religious laws was rare, even among atheists. Few dared to smoke in public on the Sabbath, and if they did, they did so discreetly.

Education was sacred. For Jews, and only for Jews at the time, boys’ education was mandatory. Lithuanian girls were usually taught at home. Every shtetl had at least one cheder, where boys began learning at age 4–5, continuing until 13. They studied the Tanakh (Hebrew Bible), translating it into Yiddish. Older students also learned writing. Melameds (teachers) were often strict, and poet Chaim Nachman Bialik recalled that “each teacher had his own way of beating.”

Yet even cheders began modernizing. One witness, Chackel Lemchen, remembered his grandfather’s cheder in Papilė, where the teacher taught arithmetic, geography, and took children on nature walks—early educational excursions.

After cheder, some boys entered yeshivas to study Talmud. Girls and women read Tsene-rene, a collection of biblical stories and commentaries written in Yiddish.

Under the Russian Empire, Jews were confined to the Pale of Settlement, often living in poverty. Folklore reflects this hardship. The humorist Motke Chabad joked:

“If you want to live forever—move to Butrimonys.
“Why? Do people live longer there?”
“No. It’s just that no rich person has ever died in Butrimonys.”

Many professions were closed to Jews. They were barred from government service, teaching in state schools, and the legal system. Briefly, from 1919–1924, during Jewish national autonomy in Lithuania, Jews gained roles in public institutions, but this was short-lived.

Thus, most Jews in the shtetls turned to small trade and crafts: tailoring, shoemaking, carpentry, baking, blacksmithing, barbering, and more. Educated or wealthier Jews sometimes pursued professions such as medicine, dentistry, law, or teaching in private schools.

In family businesses, women often played vital roles, running shops so their husbands could study. While traditionally excluded from public life—women could not be rabbis or counted in a minyan—they managed households, raised children, and lit the Shabbat candles. Their love for children became a cultural symbol: the “Yiddish mother” was both revered and humorously exaggerated in folklore.

Shtetls existed alongside non-Jewish populations, mostly Lithuanians. Economic interactions, especially in trade, were common. While antisemitic stereotypes existed in Lithuanian folklore, they didn’t always dictate daily relationships. Personal acquaintance often overcame prejudice. Shopkeepers, for example, extended credit based purely on trust with no distinction between Jewish and Lithuanian customers.

Jews often spoke Lithuanian, albeit with an accent. Many Lithuanians in shtetls also spoke Yiddish. Still, cultural boundaries remained. Dietary laws and religious customs meant Jews and Lithuanians rarely ate or prayed together. Persistent myths—such as blood libel or deicide—reinforced separation. As poet Algimantas Baltakis wrote:

Since the time of Gediminas
always
with us
and always separately.
Together at the fair of life
separately
in prayers
and at the graves.

(Side note: Jews were not yet present in Lithuania in Gediminas’s time.)

Although not closed off, each community largely stayed within its own social sphere. Even fire brigades were separate—though they worked together in major emergencies, each had its own Jewish team, led by a “fire major.”

Warm friendships and even mixed marriages existed, but they were rare. Shtetl life was steeped in Jewish tradition. There were no mass movements for assimilation—Jewish life unfolded naturally, its customs passed down through every aspect of community life.

Even the occasional convert, like the famous orientalist Daniel Khvolson, did so less from religious conviction than for opportunity. Asked why he converted, he replied:

“Out of conviction.”
“That Orthodoxy is better than Judaism?”
“No. But I’m convinced that being a professor in St. Petersburg is better than heading a yeshiva.”

These were rare cases. In the shtetls, where social cohesion was strong, such steps were almost unheard of. There was little external pressure to assimilate. Despite hardships—such as forced conscription into the Russian military—the Jewish identity in shtetls remained deeply intact.

Everything in the shtetl—from the synagogue to the cheder to the home—nurtured Jewish identity. As Judelis Markas recalled of his first visit to Ukmergė in 1920:

“On a mild autumn evening, people strolled along the wide sidewalk… and Yiddish flowed freely from all mouths. I remembered the words of the woman from the Tanakh: she asked nothing of the prophet Elisha, because she lived among her own people.
And I felt: I live among my own people.”

Source:
Lempertas, I. Gyvenimas štetle.