Changing Societies & Personalities, 2023 Vol. 7, No. 2, pp. 55–80 https://doi.org/10.15826/csp.2023.7.2.231 Received 30 January 2022 © 2023 Kseniya S. Grigor’eva Accepted 10 June 2023 kseniagrigoryeva@yandex.ru Published online 3 July 2023 ARTICLE Origins of Ethno-Religious Profiling: The Jewish Question and Police Surveillance in the Russian Empire in the 19th Century Kseniya S. Grigor’eva Institute of Sociology of the Federal Center of Theoretical and Applied Sociology (FCTAS), Russian Academy of Sciences, Moscow, Russia ABSTRACT Surveillance scholars have begun to pay increasing attention to the fact that the burden of surveillance is distributed through society unevenly, further deepening social inequality. As an alternative to the popular image of the “panopticon” (universal surveillance over everyone), the new concept of a “banopticon” (surveillance over specific “dangerous” groups) has been proposed. The idea is that this “new” type of surveillance, unlike “traditional” surveillance, targets entire “suspicious” categories of the population rather than specific individuals, and is oriented towards the future, not the past. But is this phenomenon all that new? History shows that the roots of this type of surveillance run as deep as the early modern era. This paper uses a thematic study of surveillance over Jews in the Russian Empire as the basis for an analysis of the emergence and development of one historical form for the monitoring of “dangerous” population groups, along with its causes, intellectual basis, and deployment mechanisms. The results obtained challenge the widespread notion that surveillance over specific racial, ethnic, and ethno-religious groups (racial profiling) is tied exclusively to slavery, racism, and colonialism. This study allows for an expansion of the understanding of this concept and an increase in its complexity. KEYWORDS ethno-religious profiling, Jewish question, Russian Empire, surveillance, social sorting https://changing-sp.com/ mailto:kseniagrigoryeva@yandex.ru 56 Kseniya S. Grigor’eva Introduction Modern society is often described as a “surveillance society”1. It is widely acknow- ledged that surveillance is an inextricable part of modern everyday life (Andrejevic, 2004; Lyon, 2009), governance (Giddens, 1990), interaction between businesses and consumers (Andrejevic, 2011; Fuchs, 2011; Zuboff, 2019), and workplace relations between employers and employees (Ball, 2010; Rosenblat et al., 2014). Although the research community is currently dominated by the opinion that surveillance should not be viewed as an unambiguously threatening phenomenon (Haggerty & Ericson, 2000; Marx, 2015), the Orwellian and Foucauldian perspectives continue to haunt scholars and the general public alike. Initially, surveillance scholars mainly focused on issues related to the protection of privacy (Clarke, 1988; Flaherty, 1986; Westin, 1966), but over the last two decades, discussions of how the rise of surveillance practices and techniques worsens social inequality have become increasingly active. David Lyon points out that the key to understanding surveillance today is the idea of “categorizing persons and populations— or ‘social sorting’” (Lyon, 2002, p. 3). Didier Bigo (2007) is of a similar opinion, emphasizing that surveillance that ostensibly aims to ensure security surpasses the simple logic of monitoring every single person and specifically targets population categories that are considered “suspicious”. Bigo refers to this practice as the “banopticon”, merging the terms “ban” and “panopticon” as developed by Jean-Luc Nancy (as interpreted by Giorgio Agamben) and Michel Foucault, respectively (Bigo, 2007). The concept of the “banopticon” is closely adjacent to the concept of “new penology” created by Malcolm Feely and Jonathan Simon (1992), who believe that modern society is undergoing a fundamental shift from a desire to punish individuals who have already broken the law in specific ways and correct their behavior to a desire to control a set of “dangerous” groups that are presumed to be capable of breaking the law. The most striking illustration of this trend is the racial profiling2 which accompanies campaigns against drugs and terrorism (see, e.g., Bah, 2006; Bechrouri, 2018; Khenti, 2014). The fact that surveillance techniques target “dangerous” population categories, as opposed to “dangerous” individuals, and are concerned with future crimes, as opposed to past crimes, is often considered the distinctive trait of modern surveillance. Specifically, Marx refers to the application of surveillance to entire categories of people, and “not just to a particular person whose identity is known beforehand”, as a “striking innovation” (Marx, 2002, p. 10). At the same time, Lyon (2009) notes that modern surveillance methods differ from traditional ones in that “they are future rather than past oriented, and are based on simulating and modelling situations that have yet to occur” (p. 460). But is this phenomenon particularly new? Is it truly just a few decades old, as apparently implied by Lyon, Feely, and Simon? 1 This term was coined in 1985 by Gary T. Marx in “The Surveillance Society: The Threat of 1984-Style Techniques” (Marx, 1985). It has also been used in universally recognized classics of surveillance research by Oscar H. Gandy, Jr. (1989) and David H. Flaherty (1988). 2 Racial profiling is usually defined as “the use by the police, with no objective and reasonable justification, of grounds such as race, colour, language, religion, nationality or national or ethnic origin in control, surveillance or investigation activities” (European Commission against Racism and Intolerance, 2007, p. 4). Changing Societies & Personalities, 2023, Vol. 7, No. 2, pp. 55–80 57 Research into the history of surveillance targeting “dangerous” groups makes it clear that the answer to these questions is no. What is more, it reveals a clear continuity between the modern, actuarial forms of surveillance and justice and their earlier historical precedents. In the context of racial profiling, studies most often discuss racist interactions between police officers and the Black population of the American South from the late 17th to the first half of the 20th centuries (Harris, 2006; Henderson, 2016; Spruill, 2016). Another canonical example of racial profiling is the internment of Japanese Americans during World War II3 (Gee, 2015; Kang, 2001; Ketchell, 2009). In addition to traditionally cited “classical” precedents, the relatively well- established practice of researching the history of racial profiling is also characterized by the strong association of the surveillance of “dangerous” population categories with very specific groups (primarily Black communities). Furthermore, proposed explanatory models tend to be taken for granted, without reflection. These include, first and foremost, a search for the causes of racial profiling in slavery, racism, and colonialism. While such approaches are far from unjustified, they bear the risk of oversimplification due to underestimation of the differences between various countries or of the diversity of geopolitical and historical context. Even if all previous historical eras are set aside and the focus is on the current period, it becomes obvious that no single group, whether it is racial, ethnic, or ethno-religious, has been the sole, unchanging target of profiling. For example, racial profiling in the US mostly targeted Black Americans and Latinos until 2001, but after 9/11, the center of gravity very obviously shifted to the Muslim Arab community. In Europe, Africans and Roma have been common targets of profiling (European Union Agency for Fundamental Rights, 2010). In Russia, profiling before 2014 centered on people from the Caucasus and Central Asia, along with Roma (Iuristy za Konstitutsionnye Prava, 2006; Voronkov et al., 2009). After 2014, these groups were joined by Ukrainians (Grigor’eva, 2019), a group that is phenotypically and culturally close to the Russian majority and which previously enjoyed a relatively favorable attitude from both the ethnically Russian population and from Russian law enforcement and administrative structures. As for discussions of slavery, racism, colonialism, and hatred of the Other, while they do indicate phenomena that undoubtedly contribute to the development of technologies aimed at the monitoring of “dangerous” groups, they have now become somewhat platitudinal, often implying nothing more than that the instigators and performers of surveillance practices (or even the corresponding societies overall) are morally depraved. As rightly noted by P. Waddington (1999), “is temptingly easy to attribute ‘bad’ outcomes to ‘bad men’”, but this kind of explanation can hardly be deemed satisfactory. The various excesses that abound in human history are not always the product of sadistic inclinations, psychopathy or moral deformity, and in fact may be motivated by qualities and aspirations that, in a different context, would deserve praise: diligence, professionalism, patriotism, or concern for society’s well-being. 3 It is highly illustrative that Kenneth Meeks’ popular book Driving While Black: Highways, Shopping Malls, Taxicabs, Sidewalks opens with descriptions of both of these examples (Meeks, 2000). Similarly, Michele P. Bratina’s encyclopedic article on racial profiling also references both precedents (Bratina, 2014). https://changing-sp.com/ 58 Kseniya S. Grigor’eva In this paper, I shall demonstrate that racial profiling is not a straightforward consequence of slavery4, racism, and colonialism (although in the case of America and some other nations, it does have a very strong historical link to these practices). In the Russian (and, more broadly, Central and Eastern European) context, profiling should rather be viewed as a specific set of institutionalized control practices aimed at “bettering” the population in order to achieve maximum social welfare. The intellectual rationale behind this approach dates back to the teachings of cameralism and mercantilism. This article presents the results of a thematic study of the surveillance of Jews in the Russian Empire in the 19th century. The first part of the study is dedicated to a description of the research methodology. The second part explores the reasoning behind special supervision of Jews, the emergence and development of anti-Jewish legislation, and the resulting surveillance practices. Finally, the third part places the Russian practice into a European context by providing a short overview of foreign approaches to controlling the Jewish population. The conclusions are listed in the final section of the paper. Research Methodology The first problem that always arises when looking for the roots of modern phenomena in history is the sizeable gap between current categorizations and those that existed in past eras. Retrospective studies are always fraught with the danger of anachronism, especially when comparing empires and modern nation states. The Russian Empire of the 19th century was a highly specific government formation. It is perhaps best described by Robert Crews’ concept of a “confessional” state, highlighting that religious denomination served as the most important mechanism for maintaining discipline and obedience among the Tsar’s subject up to the end of the Imperial period (Crews, 2003). It was religion, not ethnicity, nationality, or much less race5, that was used for basic social categorization. At the same time, the 19th century was a period of modernization for the Russian Empire; in the process, relations between different population groups were increasingly understood in terms of nationalities and classes (Miller, 2006, p. 9). Mikhail Dolbilov (2013) provides good insights into the tensions between religious and national identities during that period. Using the Poles as an example, he emphasizes that these identities were often 4 Russia is a good example for exposing the fallacy behind the notion of clear-cut causality between slavery, racism, and racial profiling outside of a specific historical and cultural context. Even though the Russian Empire abolished slavery (serfdom) just a few years before the USA, and even though Russian and American slavery had a number of common traits, which were often highlighted by contemporaries (Kurilla, 2016), in Russia, the majority of slaves were not “the Other” (in terms of religion, ethnicity, or race), but ethnically Russian peasants. For this reason, surveillance over the enslaved population in the Russian context cannot be considered a precursor of racial profiling. 5 Dolbilov (2010) rightly points out that, despite the fact that pre-revolutionary Russia did see the emergence and development of physical anthropology, which proposed the idea of “race” among its central concepts and, in its nationalist interpretation, attempted to prove that Russians were biologically superior to others, these ideas were not particularly favored by Russian political elites and bureaucrats because they sounded “too Western” (p. 22). Changing Societies & Personalities, 2023, Vol. 7, No. 2, pp. 55–80 59 mutually interchangeable (“Catholic” implied “Pole” and vice versa). If social class is added to the mix6, the situation becomes even more complicated. The perception of Jews was also highly ambiguous. In the 19th century Russian documents, Jewishness is described as a social class, state, rank, tribe, society, religion, and nation (Nathans, 2002). However, the basic state perception of Jews is, apparently, reflected in their legal status as inorodtsy [non-Russians]. When applied to Jews, this status implied both a certain ethnic (“tribal”) origin and Judaism as a faith. Notably, a Jew that converted to Christianity was no longer legally recognized as a Jew or a foreigner. This fact, nevertheless, did not mean that the religious factor completely dominated over the ethnic factor. As noted by M. I. Mysh (1914), a prominent 19th century Russian lawyer, the very status of Jew was obtained exclusively via “being birthed by Jewish parents” and was not available to people of any other origins because conversion to Judaism was illegal (pp. 28–29). Categorizations of the population of the Russian Empire in the 19th century were fluctuating, blurred, and “porous”, which complicates any attempts to study early forms of racial profiling, especially considering the complexity and variation of Imperial legal regimes (Burbank, 2006, p. 402). Tsarist Russia lacked a single standard applicable to all its subjects: there were neither any universal laws, nor any fundamental rights (Slezkine, 2004). Since inequality was so inherent to the Empire, it is practically impossible to establish which groups were more unequal and which were less. What makes things especially problematic in the context of this study is that the inequality created by the distribution of surveillance activity among different target population categories is just as difficult to measure. Jews were, quite obviously, far from the only ethno-religious group subjected to special control. Because 19th-century Russia was a type of a Polizeistaat (Dolbilov, 2010, p. 42), it suffered from the typical “control mania”, which affected all Imperial subjects (Raeff, 1975, p. 1226). Notably, the approaches to controlling non-Russians and people of other religions were replicated and reapplied to other groups. Historians find many similarities in the Tsarist government’s attempts to control and transform the lives of Catholics (Poles), Muslims (Tatars), and Judaists (Jews) (see, e.g., Crews, 2005; Dolbilov, 2010; Löwe, 2000). That said there are several important characteristics that make the study of the treatment of Jews particularly interesting. Firstly, they were the first and, most likely, the main target of persistent, systemic, and legally recorded social engineering, entailing a particularly “nitpicky” brand of regulation, which birthed a myriad of surveillance techniques that affected a broad variety of activities in daily Jewish life. Secondly, the Pale of Settlement7 essentially made Jews into “domestic foreigners”, which, together with the high degree of mobility among the Jewish population, 6 For a long time in Tsarist Russia, Poles were mostly associated with the Szlachta nobles (Dolbilov, 2012). 7 The Pale of Settlement was the territory where Jews were allowed to reside on a permanent basis, encompassing the cities and shtetls (Jews could not settle in the countryside) of most of modern Poland, Lithuania, Latvia, Belarus, and Ukraine. Only a few select categories of Jews were allowed to venture beyond the Pale of Settlement. These included, at various times in history: those who were in the process of getting an education; merchants of the first guild, as well as their employees; people with higher education; recruits that had completed their military service; artisans; and a number of others. Permanent residence outside of the Pale of Settlement only became possible to certain Jews starting from the late 1850s. https://changing-sp.com/ 60 Kseniya S. Grigor’eva drew disproportionate attention from surveillance authorities. Finally, most Imperial bureaucrats were firmly convinced that Jews were a “bothersome” and “criminal” people by nature8, which is in line with contemporary notions of “dangerous” groups. Given the fundamental differences in the political, ideological, legal, and social systems of the Imperial and modern periods, we cannot ignore the question of whether or not it is appropriate to draw parallels between surveillance of Jews and today’s racial profiling. It is quite clear that these parallels can be drawn only with significant reservations. First, present-day ethno-religious profiling, which is officially recognized as a variety of racial profiling, is closely intertwined with notions of race, while the surveillance of Jews in the Russian Empire was largely devoid of racial connotations9. Second, today, formal legislation forbids the profiling of racial, ethnic or ethno-religious groups, and it is usually done covertly, while “special surveillance” of Jews in Tsarist Russia was conducted in the open, being completely legal and backed up by an astoundingly complex, branching system of anti-Jewish legislation. Finally, it bears mentioning that technological capabilities for present-day ethno-religious profiling are many times greater than capabilities in the 19th century, especially in the Russian Empire, which, according to the reasonable observation of Evgeny Avrutin (2010), was “one of the least governed states in Europe” (p. 4). At the same time, the surveillance of Jews can still be viewed as a precursor of modern racial profiling, because Jews were considered to be “dangerous” and “keeping them in check” was institutionalized and backed up with bureaucratic measures aimed at preventing some perceived, hypothetical “future harm”. It is important to emphasize that in this study, the concept of ethno-religious profiling includes solely those forms of surveillance that targeted Jews as a “dangerous/ harmful” population category. Our analysis does not cover surveillance of individuals motivated by specific suspicions. The empirical basis of this research includes collections of Russian Imperial laws on Jews, as well as comments on and reviews of the corresponding 19th- century legal practice, memoirs, and archival documents. The documents were studied in the Gosudarstvennyi arkhiv Rossiiskoi Federatsii (GARF), [State Archive of the Russian Federation]. Comprehensive study of the following was carried out: the earliest recovered documents on the surveillance of Jews, dating from the first four decades of the 19th century; documents containing orders and reports on monitoring correspondence between Jews; documents on the “World Jewish Kagal” case; and circulars of the Ministry of Internal Affairs on the nationwide collection of information about certain categories of Jews. This was supplemented by selective analysis of documents on the monitoring of Jewish artisans, as well as Jewish merchants and their employees, by lists of Jews living in specific territories, and by Senate proceedings relevant to Jews. This selective analysis was predominantly guided by 8 In this context, the situation of the Jews is comparable only to the experiences of Poles, who were deemed the Russian Empire’s “main security threat” after the 1830–1831 uprising. 9 Although Rogger insists that, in the second half of the 19th century, a “pre-modern form of racism” could already be found in Russian policy on Jews (Rogger, 1986, pp. 35–37), the point of view of Weinerman looks more justified. According to Weinerman (1994), the spread of racist ideas in the Russian Empire was limited to the narrow ultranationalist sphere, while the main efforts of the authorities were aimed at the Russification of minorities. Changing Societies & Personalities, 2023, Vol. 7, No. 2, pp. 55–80 61 previously researched legislative norms on the surveillance of the Jewish population. The documentary evidence was viewed as a group case studies, making it possible assess the gap between the “ideal” image of the monitoring of Jews, as presented in legislative norms, and real-life surveillance practices. Surveillance of Jews: Reasons, Legal Framework, Execution Praxis With the exception of a brief period of benign indifference right after becoming subjects of the Russian Empire in the late 18th century, Jews were the target of continuous and persistent government attempts at “bettering” them for their entire existence within the imperial state. The formal justification for this was that it was all done for Imperial subjects’ (Jews included) “own good”, and that by being “re-educated”, Jews would supposedly gain the respect of their neighbors, moral transformation, and motivation for “productive” labor, ultimately making them “worthy” of joining the family of ethnicities residing in the Empire. This obsession with “fixing” and “organizing” Jews, highly typical of any Polizeistaat (Vital, 1999), was not a Russian invention. The Empire had borrowed these ideas from abroad, primarily from Austria and Prussia. While some historians are inclined to cite “being different” as the reason behind the Imperial government’s bias against Jews (Miller, 2006), it seems more plausible that Jews were considered a “problem” on an international scale. At least, Jews were hardly as strikingly “different” in Tsarist Russia as in the smaller, significantly more homogeneous European countries. Yuri Slezkine (2004) ironically points out that Jews were just “one of Russia’s many ‘alien’ groups: more ‘cunning’ than most, perhaps, but not as ‘rebellious’ as the Chechens, as ‘backward’ as the Samoed, as ‘fanatical’ as the Sart, or as ubiquitous or relentlessly rationalistici artificiales as the Germans” (p. 115). The perception of Jews as a “problem” that “enlightened nations” had long struggled to solve (Derzhavin, 1872, p. 261, trans. by Kseniya Grigor’eva [K. G.]) provided a framework for highlighting the “peculiar” character of the Jewish population and rationalizing the regular bouts of anti-Jewish suspicion. Even more importantly, this perception spurred continuous legislative and bureaucratic activity that purported to make Jews more “useful” and/or prevent any “damage” that they might have caused. Historical Periods and Development of Surveillance of Jews Studies exploring the life of Jews in the Russian Empire usually single out the particular periods or events that had the greatest impact. For instance, Alexey Miller (2006) identifies the following stages in the development of Imperial policy towards Jews in the 19th and early 20th centuries: 1800s to 1825—the attempt to develop a coherent legislative system for governing Jews without deep intrusion into their autonomy; 1825–1855—a period of strict regulation of Jewish life and destructive attempts to discipline the Jewish population using force; 1856–1881—liberalization of policy towards Jews and selective integration of Jews into Imperial society; 1881 to the end of the imperial period—the era of modern antisemitism, accompanied by pogroms and a sharp increase in discrimination against Jews. Some of the other important historical milestones mentioned include the Polish uprisings of 1830–1831 and 1863–1864, the crisis in the early 1880s, and the revolution of 1905. https://changing-sp.com/ 62 Kseniya S. Grigor’eva However, it is difficult to fit the history of the surveillance of Jews into this timeline, or into others. The logic behind this surveillance is grounded in government suspicions and individual events that led to the intensification of government work on “fixing” the Jews. These events may sometimes seem fairly trivial in the grand scheme of history, but nonetheless, they have had a major impact on the development of surveillance practices and techniques. Another thing that sets the surveillance of Jews apart from more monumental historical processes is its continuous progress towards the accumulation of more and more surveillance practices and procedures. Regardless of a particular tsar’s style of governance, and even regardless of whether or not the policy towards Jews was more strict or more liberal at a given time, the surveillance continued to increase and grow more complex. While there is no doubt that the early 1880s were a historical watershed, after which surveillance practices (but not legislative activity, which served as their institutional source) intensified rapidly, it is actually impossible to find any single period during the 19th century when the total amount of monitoring of Jews decreased, rather than increased. The consistent, progressive increase of surveillance of the Jewish population was most likely caused by the fact that its connection with the ever-changing vector of policy of the various Russian emperors was much weaker than its dependence on the growing centralization of the state, by the professionalization of bureaucratic and law enforcement structures, by the steady growth of anti-Jewish legislation, and by the accumulation and “crystallization” of prior surveillance practices and techniques. Government Suspicions Targeting Jews and the Events That Triggered Them The suspicion of Jews is one of the key factors that now allow us to see the logic behind the emergence of specific types of monitoring for the Jewish population. John Klier (1986), who extensively studied the formation of Russian authorities’ ideas about Jews from the end of the 18th and into the first quarter of the 19th centuries, identifies three types of suspicion: fear of Jewish proselytism, which had old origins in Russia and was latently preserved in Russian policy towards Jews; suspicion of a Jewish desire to “exploit” the peasant class growing out of a complex of educational ideas borrowed from Western Europe; and, later, the suspicion of the existence of a worldwide Jewish conspiracy against the foundations of Christian civilization and power. This list must be complemented with a number of narrower, but nevertheless important in their practical consequences, suspicions: about the inclination of Jews towards smuggling; about the desire of Jews to evade military service10; and about Jewish collusion with internal and external enemies of the Empire (first the French, then the Poles, and finally the Germans11). 10 For more information, see the work of Y. Petrovsky-Shtern (2003). 11 The suspicion that Jews might become agents of German influence arose in the mid-1860s. The idea originated with P. A. Bessonov, an expert on Slavic culture and Slavophile appointed in 1865 to several leading positions at the Department of Education in Vilna (Vilnius), including the post of Principal of the Rabbinical School (Dolbilov, 2010, pp. 551–559). During that period, the Tsarist government was not yet ready to acknowledge the very notion of German influence over Jews. Nonetheless, the idea would become much more widespread later on, leading to tragic consequences for the Jewish people during World War I (Lohr, 2003). Changing Societies & Personalities, 2023, Vol. 7, No. 2, pp. 55–80 63 Four of the six suspicions listed (religious proselytism, the “exploitation” of the peasant class, smuggling, and evasion of military service) were reflected in a number of restrictive laws regarding Jews, which led to a large number of specific surveillance practices. The remaining two, although they did not result in the adoption of special legislation, at different times motivated the issuance of orders related to surveillance of the Jewish population and the opening and inspection of Jewish mail. Even so, the authorities’ suspicions themselves did not result in any special measures against the Jewish population. As a rule, this required a specific event or chain of events that fit into the logic of a particular suspicion and triggered it. Thus, for example, the famine that occurred in the Belarusian governorates in 1797 was initially the event that triggered suspicions of the exploitation of peasantry and was one of the reasons why the local governors and marshals of nobility decried “harmful” Jewish activities. Suspicions of possible sympathy for the French were aroused by the convocation of the Grand Sanhedrin in Paris, which was seen as an attempt to bring Jews to the side of Napoleonic France. Fears of Jewish proselytism, although rather old and playing practically no role during the reigns of Catherine II, Paul I and the entire first half of the reign of Alexander I, were reactivated due to news of the spread of the Sabbatarian heresy in Voronezh Governorate in 1818. Speculation of Jewish inclinations to avoid military service began due to attempts by representatives of Jewish communities to postpone the introduction of a law on military service “in kind”. After the triggering of suspicions, the authorities began to take practical measures to prevent expected “harms” caused by Jews. Laws on Jews as the Institutional Source of Surveillance Over the Jewish Population Legislation was the government’s main weapon in its effort to prevent “harmful” actions from Jews, taking away any ability Jews had to cause “harm”. This was done via the criminalization of actions which were permitted to the rest of the population of the same social classes. Specifically, in order to prevent alleged harms to the “native” citizens of the Empire, the departure, stay and residence of Jews outside the Pale of Settlement without valid reasons and special documents were criminalized. In order to prevent smuggling, Jews were banned from living in the fifty-verst strip along the border. In order to prevent the “exploitation” of the peasantry, Jews were banned from alcohol distillation and the wine trade in rural areas, and from acquiring inhabited land. In order to prevent the “seduction” of Christians into Judaism, the hiring of Christian servants by Jews was criminalized. The drastic criminalization of the daily practices and activities of the Jewish population led to many unforeseen consequences. These were especially severe for the Jews themselves, who were often deprived of livelihoods and shelter. However, damage was also done to Christians who had commercial ties with Jews, to certain sectors of the economy where Jews traditionally predominated, and to the treasury, which forwent a certain amount of income. As a result, new regulatory acts were adopted which provided deferrals and deviations from the initial prohibitions, which were themselves also revised after some time. Existing laws were taken into https://changing-sp.com/ 64 Kseniya S. Grigor’eva account in the development of subsequent regulatory acts, and restrictive rules regarding Jews were constantly incorporated into new bills. Ultimately, by the early 20th century, legislation regarding Jews encompassed over one thousand various regulatory acts, the overwhelming majority of which involved some type of surveillance of Jews. Executors of Surveillance Surveillance of Jews was mainly assigned to the police, but police officers were not the only ones performing surveillance activities. Surveillance of the Jewish population was one of the duties of customs officials (when Jews crossed the border and transported goods) and the military (when controlling desertion from military service). Additionally, surveillance of Jews was an immediate responsibility of regional authorities: governors-general, military and civil governors, regional principals, city governors, etc. Surveillance of the Jewish population was also a responsibility of local government (city councils, magistrates, town halls, mayors), as well as the self- government bodies of social classes (marshals of nobility, trade and guild councils). At the lowest level, surveillance of Jews was assigned to street cleaners, who were obliged to immediately report any violations to the police. Sometimes, special jobs were created, whose main and only function was surveillance of Jews. For example, in 1843, five inspector jobs were created in Kiev (four at the city outposts and one at the Dnieper pier), who were tasked with checking the documents of Jews arriving in the city and issuing them temporary tickets. Apart from the abovementioned officials, who performed on duty surveillance of the Jewish population, other departments and officials were often involved in surveillance as well. Specifically, gendarmes, postal workers, medical councils, directors of educational institutions, and employees of other state organizations participated in the surveillance of Jews from time to time. Some civilians who were not engaged in the public service, such as owners of apartments and hotels, were also often involved in the surveillance of Jews. Passport and Other Document Checks Document checks were one of the most widespread methods for monitoring Jews. Passports were checked most frequently. In order to facilitate surveillance, the passports of Jews were marked with special inscriptions that allowed inspectors to quickly determine whether the Jew under scrutiny had violated applicable restrictions. For example, passports issued to Jews for movement within the Pale of Settlement contained an inscription stating that they were valid only in areas designated for the permanent residence of Jews. Foremen were issued passports with notes that they should be presented for water and land shipping operations within the governorates adjacent to the Pale of Settlement. In order to prevent any forgery and abuse, the passports of merchants indicated which contract or commercial affairs they were issued for, “and so that such persons are not accompanied by more than two Jews under the guise of clerks and servants”, these passports also included the names and descriptions of such Jews (Svod zakonov, 1842, p. 51), etc. Changing Societies & Personalities, 2023, Vol. 7, No. 2, pp. 55–80 65 In the registration of their passports, Jews were often required to present additional documents that were not mandatory for other people of the same class or position. In particular, in order to obtain a passport, young Jewish artisans who visited the interior governorates to train with experienced craftsmen had to present certi- ficates of their reliability and factual desire to improve their qualifications, provided by three Christian property owners. The submission of additional documents was often required during passport checks, and the number of such documents significantly increased when some categories of Jews (merchants, artisans, people with higher education) were allowed to live outside the Pale of Settlement. All of these “privileged” categories of Jews had to present, in addition to their passports, proof of lack of criminal record, as well as documents, certifying their status and occupations. Immediate deportation to the Pale of Settlement was ordered for those who did not provide all of the necessary documents. Since Jews were always suspected of intentions to evade military service, additional documents were required to confirm their eligibility for military service benefits. In reality, however, the “ideal” strict oversight through the control of Jews’ documents remained an unachievable fantasy of the Tsarist government. Jews were difficult to register and record, which prevented the government’s grand scheme from coming to fruition. E. M. Avrutin (2010), who conducted a detailed study of the difficulties faced by the Imperial bureaucracy in its attempts to register the Jewish population, came to the conclusion that, because of the lack of qualified officials, rampant corruption, and the tendency of Jews to resist registration, the accuracy of the record of Jews remained significantly inferior to the accuracy of the record of all other categories of Imperial subjects throughout the entire 19th century12. This stemmed not just from simple reluctance on the part of Jews to be registered, but also from particular traits of their culture. Among other aspects, Jewish culture places little emphasis on the exact date of a person’s birth, which, together with the fact that religious rites (including the circumcision ceremony) could be performed by any member of the Jewish community, not just by the Crown Rabbi, led to frequent instances of Jews’ simply ignoring their duty to report new births in their community (Avrutin, 2010, p. 37). The lack of demographic records among Jews was an issue that persisted until the early 20th century, making it impossible to obtain any other documents, including passports. As a result, a great many Jews moved about with no document at all, with another person’s documents, or with fake documents. Abraham Uri Kovner, a prominent Russian-Jewish writer and essayist, writes in his memoirs that this practice was common among Jews as early as the beginning of the 1860s (Kovner, 2000, p. 239). Occupational Verification Another form of control of Jews was the monitoring of their activities. Particular attention was paid to the surveillance of the activities of Jewish artisans, since craft occupations were the easiest to falsify in order to circumvent various restrictive rules and procedures. 12 Thomas Jankowski draws similar conclusions (Jankowski, 2020). https://changing-sp.com/ 66 Kseniya S. Grigor’eva Surveillance over Jewish craftsmen was assigned to Artisan and Guild Boards, city governments, and the police. The artisan’s license was an important tool for controlling the occupations of Jewish craftsmen. It included all hirings and dismissals during the year, information about employers, and instances and duration of illness of the worker. All entries in the artisan’s license had to be certified by the police. With the annual submission of the artisan’s license to the Guild Board, the Board had the ability to track the activities of each Jewish artisan using these records. If someone, without being ill, had not worked for the last three months, or had worked for no more than eight months of a whole year, the Guild Board had to immediately inform the Artisan Board of this via submission of the shop ticket for consideration. After verifying the information received on the ticket, the Artisan Board excluded the guilty person from the workshop and reported this to the local duma. In addition to the examination of artisan’s license, the Artisan Board had to perform periodic inspections to ensure that Jews were actually engaged in their craft and to exclude all Jews who abandoned their craft from the workshop (O proekte izmenenii, 1853). In areas without trade councils, similar functions were performed by the police. Unfortunately for the government, the Artisan and Guild Boards, along with the police, were profoundly corrupt, and often used the powers vested in them for collecting bribes rather than actually controlling Jews. Nathan Meir and Victoria Khiterer, who have written monographs on the lives of Jews in Imperial Kyiv, cite evidence of the widespread purchase of fake artisan licenses from the local Artisan Board in the 1860s and 1870s. For just 3 rubles, it was possible to buy a painter’s license upon presentation of a bucket of paint and a brush, or a milliner’s license upon presentation of a piece of fabric (Meir, 2010, p. 27). In order to collect money from Jews without any passable artisanal skills, the Board even came up with a special new “vinegar producers” category (Khiterer, 2016, p. 108). The utterly hopeless flaws in the Imperial supervision of Jewish artisans are also revealed by the survey of governors carried out by the Ministry of Internal Affairs in 1902. According to the governors of Astrakhan, Vladimir, Irkutsk, Kaluga, Kazan, Kostroma, Kursk, Livonia, Novgorod, Orenburg, Penza, Pskov, Ryazan, St. Petersburg, Saratov, Smolensk, Tambov, Tobolsk, Ufa, and Yaroslavl, the city administrators of Kronstadt, St. Petersburg, and Sevastopol, and the Governor-General of Moscow, although supervision of Jewish artisans was conducted, it did not achieve its purpose by any means (Po voprosu ob udobstve vozlozhenia, 1902, p. 24). That said, the low quality of the supervision does not equal a lack of supervision, nor does it prove that Jews had some sort of “supernatural” ability to evade it en masse, as bureaucratic reports often claimed. Surveillance practices were constantly implemented by all of the appointed institutions, and whenever a significant share of Jews managed to avoid deportation to the Pale of Settlement, or any other legally prescribed punishments, this happened not because they were not being controlled, but because of the instrumentalization of this control by organs and officials of surveillance. Changing Societies & Personalities, 2023, Vol. 7, No. 2, pp. 55–80 67 Location Checks Another type of checks is the verification of the location of Jews, both in places where they were allowed and not allowed to stay. Police officers regularly inspected rented apartments and rooms in which non-resident Jews stayed, visited areas closed to the Jewish population, and audited eateries, taverns and pot-houses, which Jews were forbidden to hold. For example, in August 1812, a territorial police officer of the Volzhsky district of Moscow Governorate inspected the taverns in the territory entrusted to him. All the Jews identified during the inspections, together with their families, were deported to Moscow and put in jail, where Jews from Shklow were already detained “for being found in taverns in the Mozhaysk district” (Pis’mo na imya ministra politsii, 1813, p. 7, trans. by K. G.). Such rigor, however, was probably more the exception than the rule: there are many records that, before the 1880s, police inspections were often fictitious, and Jews under supervision were easily able to buy off law-enforcement officers. Due to the well-known corruption of the police, inspections sometimes involved gendarmes, always happy to discover Jews in places forbidden to them. For example, Vlasov, a colonel of the gendarme corps, reported on November 6, 1831 that the “decree of the Governing Senate of June 30, 1825 regarding the 1st department on the removal of Jews from the border by 50 versts, not only has not been executed in the Grodno province to this day, but no measures are being taken to execute it” (Raport, 1831, p. 1, trans. by K. G.). According to the investigation performed by the colonel, it turned out that in Grodno “there [were] up to thirty Jews with expired passports held by the police” (Pis’mo shtab-ofitsera, 1831, p. 3, trans. by K. G.). Yechezkel Kotik (1913/2002) and Abram Paperna (2000) humorously described the profanation of inspections in the 1840s and 1850s. According to them, local authorities usually gave the Jewish population advance notice of the inspector’s arrival, and the Jews had time to take the necessary measures to eliminate any violations. Genrikh Sliozberg, looking back on his childhood and youth in the 1860–1870s, attested that during this period the principle of establishing “friendly relations” with the police was predominant. People tried to “have no business” with the police, but the police themselves did little to monitor the population (Sliozberg, 1933, Vol. 1, p. 29). Abrupt and wide-reaching change of this established status quo occurred only after the assassination of Alexander II and the subsequent Jewish pogroms, which were officially interpreted by the government as public revenge for Jewish “exploitation”. From that time, control over the “correct” residence of Jews became one of the main functions of the police and local authorities, and the Ministry of Internal Affairs tirelessly reminded them about this through numerous guiding circulars. Starting in the 1880s, police raids, i.e., nighttime inspections of hotels and apartments for Jews without the necessary documents became very common. According to Sliozberg, raids were introduced in St. Petersburg by the city administrator Pyotr Gresser, and from there they spread to other places (Sliozberg, 1933, Vol. 2, p. 193). It should be noted that, according to the memoirs of contemporaries, police in the 1880s were already guided by phenotypic characteristics in performing raids and inspections. For example, according to Lev Klyachko, a well-known journalist, editor and publisher, “the police had strict orders and stopped not only Jews, but also all https://changing-sp.com/ 68 Kseniya S. Grigor’eva persons suspected of being Jews” (Klyachko, 2003, trans. by K. G.). Samuil Vermel, Russian publicist and doctor, also wrote that “policemen and detectives stopped anyone who, based on their face, could be a Jew” (Vermel, 2003, trans. by K. G.). Collection of Information In addition to recording and registration, common to all people of the empire, additional methods of information collection were used for Jews. One of the most common practices was the preparation of various lists. Outside the Pale of Settlement, such lists, in addition to the names and surnames of Jews staying in a particular area, could contain information about family members accompanying them who did not have the independent right to reside in the territory, their arrival time, their authorizing documents, the affairs for which they came, their activities, their financial situation, and their time of departure with an indication of exact destination. As a rule, this information was taken from special books kept at police stations where information about Jews arriving and living in the jurisdictional territory was recorded. The preparation of lists was often accompanied by major inspections of the lawfulness of the presence of Jews in some or other territories. For example, the preparation of a list of Jews living in St. Petersburg in 1832 was provoked by the fact that the emperor had received information about the residence of “many Jewish families” in the capital, contrary to the imperial order (O vysylke iz S. Peterburga, 1832, p. 2, trans. by K. G.). Until the end of the 1870s, special collection of information about Jews was mostly local, but from 1879, the Ministry of Internal Affairs began the centralized collection of information about the Jewish population of the Empire. The information was generally collected by filling in standardized registers, the forms of which were sent by the Ministry to the governorates together with circular orders. The first order regarding the general collection of information about Jews was a circular from the Ministry of Internal Affairs of June 11, 1879, which stated the requirement to provide the ministry with information on Jewish specialists, artisans and apprentices living outside the Pale of Settlement in accordance with the law of June 28, 1865. According to Sliozberg, the implementation of this circular was accompanied by the deportation to the Pale of Settlement of those Jewish artisans who did not meet the requirements of the law of 1865 (Sliozberg, 1933, Vol. 1, p. 97). In 1889, the ministry issued Circular No. 2982, which ordered the widespread collection of information on the ownership and lease of real estate by Jews outside cities, shtetls and posads (O vladenii i arende, 1889). The similar Circular No. 746 was issued eleven years later in connection with the preparation of draft legislation on the limitation of Jewish land ownership by the Ministry of Internal Affairs (O dostavlenii svedenii o nedvizhimykh imushchestvakh, 1900). In 1890, the Ministry of Internal Affairs issued two circulars, No. 1318 and No. 1632, regarding the countrywide collection of data on Jews living outside the Pale of Settlement (Svedenia o evreiakh dantistakh, fel’dsherakh, farmatzevtakh, 1890; Svedenia o evreiakh kuptsakh, 1890). Thus, from the end of the 1870s, the collection of information about the Jewish population moved to a new level and became larger-scale, more centralized and more Changing Societies & Personalities, 2023, Vol. 7, No. 2, pp. 55–80 69 formalized. Simultaneous collection of information on Jews throughout all or most of the imperial territory was initiated and regulated by the Ministry of the Interior, which also stored the information collected. Perlustration A specific method of surveillance was the perlustration of Jewish correspondence, practiced only occasionally under the leadership of the Postal Department and the Third Section of His Majesty’s Own Chancellery. During the 19th century, mass opening and inspection of Jewish mail was performed at least twice: in 1830–1831 and in 1837–1839. The postal censorship of 1830–1831 was associated with the first Polish riot and the government’s suspicions of possible Jewish sympathy for the Polish cause. Since the postal department did not have a Yiddish translator, all Jewish mail submitted to the post offices was forwarded by Duke Alexander Golitsyn, the Chief of the Postal Department, to Alexander Benckendorff, the Head of the Third Section. Benckendorff was supposed to get translations of the letters and send them, together with the originals, back to Golitsyn. In December 1830, 39 Jewish letters were processed, 112 letters in January 1831, 35 letters in February, 19 letters in March, 10 letters in April, and three more in May. Having found nothing remarkable, in May 1831 the perlustration was stopped (Vypiska iz evreiskikh pisem, 1830–1831). The second instance of mass monitoring of Jewish mail was sparked by the fact that the emperor had been informed that “Jews [were] sending correspondence outside the postal service” in Volyn Governorate. This prompted Golitsyn to instruct the Zhytomyr and Radziwiłł post offices to strictly monitor all correspondence between Jews, copying portions of the text “in Russian and the foreign language” should they “contain anything noteworthy”. Letters in Yiddish were to be sent to the St. Petersburg post office for translation. Benckendorff also took measures of his own to terminate correspondence “outside the postal service” with the help of the gendarmes and customs office employees. The perlustration of correspondence lasted for about six months; after, yet again, nothing suspicious was found, the practice was put to an end in April 1839 (O proizvodimoi evreyami Volynskoi gubernii tainoi korrespondentsii, 1839). Spying Until the early 1880s, there was virtually no dedicated spying on Jews, unlike on Poles, over whom secret surveillance had been widespread in St. Petersburg ever since the first Polish uprising of 1830–1831, as well as (somewhat later) in the Western Region and in the North of Russia (Grigor’eva, 2020). Apparently, this was associated with the fact that Jews rarely fell into the areas of interest of the Third Section, where the majority of secret agents and other clandestine surveillance professionals worked. The first instance of large-scale, focused surveillance of Jews took place in 1880. It was associated with the initiation of a proceeding “on the worldwide Jewish Kagal created for purposes hostile to the Christian population”, and it reflected how the outlook of the Imperial government on its Jewish subjects had changed. This https://changing-sp.com/ 70 Kseniya S. Grigor’eva change was associated with the work of Jacob Brafman, author of the notorious Book of Kagal, which was first published in 1869. In the book, Brafman promoted the idea that Jews were a hostile “state within the state”, which quickly piqued the interest of the Russian political establishment and laid the foundation for a new image of Jews as an “underground” politicized nation that was inherently antagonistic towards the Russian government and population13. The investigation into the Kagal was initiated by the administration of the Third Section, based on an anonymous accusation asserting that “all Jewish capitalists entered the worldwide Kagal with a different monetary contribution” and that Jewish households had special mugs into which “Jews [were] obliged to put donations” for the needs of the Kagal, including for such activities as funding “regicidal nihilists” (O vsemirnom evreiskom kagale, 1880, pp. 1–2, trans. by K. G.). On April 2, Pyotr Cherevin, the head of the Third Section, sent Circular No. 2725 to the heads of provincial gendarme offices with an order to conduct a secret investigation of the matter (O vsemirnom evreiskom kagale, 1880, pp. 3–4). After receiving this circular, the heads of the provincial gendarme departments began to perform the tasks assigned. Surveillance of Jewish houses was conducted for the purpose of discovering the mugs for donations and identifying their purpose, together with surveillance of “Jewish capitalists” and of collectors of charitable contributions. The eight months of secret surveillance of the Jewish population found no confirmation that “Jewish capitalists” had joined a worldwide Jewish Kahal, no collection of money from ordinary Jews in its favor, and no material assistance to a revolutionary party, and as a result, the case was closed. Russian Surveillance of the Jewish Population in an International Context Surveillance of the Jewish population in Tsarist Russia largely reproduced earlier European models, and had the same goals of making Jews “less harmful” and “more useful”. The idea stemmed from the philosophies of cameralism and mercantilism, which became widespread in European courts between the 16th and the 18th centuries and played a rather complicated role in Jewish history. On the one hand, Europeans’ embrace of mercantilist ideas facilitated the return of Jews to European countries from which they had previously been exiled and granted them access to some important economic activities that had once been closed to them (Israel, 1998). Additionally, contrary to widespread opinion, debates on the emancipation of Jews first started with the German cameralists, not with the philosophers of the Enlightenment (Joskowicz, 2017). On the other hand, cameralism and mercantilism were exactly what substantiated the claim that Jews needed to be “bettered” in order to “correct” those of their traits that were deemed “unacceptable” while retaining their high economic potential. As stated by Marc Raeff (1975), this kind of economic and social pragmatism, which formed an integral element of the new governance model (Polizeistaat), was associated not so much with the selfish aspirations of European monarchs of the early 13 For more details about the “Kagal mania” among the Imperial bureaucrats, see Dolbilov (2010, pp. 577–588). Changing Societies & Personalities, 2023, Vol. 7, No. 2, pp. 55–80 71 modern period as with the spiritual ideals of the Middle Ages. After the Reformation and years of religious wars had diminished the authority of the Church over the course of the 16th and 17th centuries, the secular monarch came to be perceived as the sole figure capable of taking responsibility for the spiritual and material wellbeing of subjects, which, in turn, was essential for the state to achieve its full creative potential in a God-honoring way (Raeff, 1975, p. 1225). As a result, the traditional approach to secular government, built upon the passive maintenance of justice, was replaced with a new alternative which involved active intervention in the lives of the monarch’s subjects in order to encourage their productive energy. Jews were a key ethno-religious group in continental Europe to be targeted by the ambitious social experiments run by governments on the grounds of this new rationalistic and mechanistic worldview. Attempts to “fix” the Jews in European countries, as in Russia, relied on a burst of legislative activity which gave rise to countless “nitpicky” bans aimed at regulating what Jewish subjects could do, limiting the growth of the Jewish population, its mobility etc. Each such ban entailed a specific set of surveillance practices designed to monitor compliance. The fundamental role of anti-Jewish legislation and bureaucracy in the development of surveillance of Jews, as well as its impact on morale and quality of life in Jewish communities, is clearly illustrated by the experience of Great Britain. As Todd M. Endelman highlights, the British government’s (largely accidental) refusal to enact specific laws dedicated to Jews defined entire future existence of Jews in the country, which was far more peaceful than in Central and Eastern Europe. In an environment that lacked targeted social engineering, British Jews integrated into the larger population earlier than other European Jewish communities, which allowed them to achieve economic success and relative prosperity (Endelman, 2002). Special surveillance of Jews did not emerge in Britain until the end of the 19th century, with the arrival of a massive wave of Jewish immigrants from Eastern Europe (mostly Polish and Russian Jews trying to make it to the USA). These surveillance practices were more reminiscent of today’s monitoring of “undesirable” immigrants by police and were motivated by suspicions that Jews were broadly involved in organized crime (specifically prostitution). They were not formally sanctioned by any legislation (Knepper, 2007; Renshaw, 2022)14. Similar surveillance practices spread through other European countries, where Jews had already been emancipated, between the 1880s and World War I (Vyleta, 2005). Conclusions It would not be correct to say that surveillance of “dangerous groups”, which targets whole population categories rather than specific individuals whose identity is known in advance, and faces the future rather than the past, is a recent phenomenon. In fact, the practice has a long history, going back to the early modern era, at least in Central and Eastern Europe. Surveillance of Jews is a highly illustrative example. 14 The Aliens Act of 1905 did not mention any specific categories of aliens, although in reality it disproportionately targeted foreign Jews (Renshaw, 2022). https://changing-sp.com/ 72 Kseniya S. Grigor’eva There is little point in seeking the roots of the ethno-religious profiling of Jews in slavery, racism, and colonialism. First, Jews had personal freedom. Second, racism was not the ideological reason for discrimination against Jews during the period in question15. Finally, the Jewish population was by no means autochthonous. On the contrary, in fact, Jews were “eternal foreigners” yearning for a lost, semi-mythical homeland. Nor would it be correct to say that the stifling supervision and countless restrictions that ruined the lives of many Jews over the course of centuries had been crafted with the deliberate intent of causing them harm. Quite the contrary, govern- ments and law-makers claimed to be working hard to “improve” the Jews, to “correct” their “bad” habits and qualities, to elevate them morally, and to transform them into “useful” subjects. This, yet again, reaffirms that even the most repulsive and invasive forms of control may be motivated not only by malice, but also by rather benevolent (from their initiators’ point of view) aspirations. As a follow-up to this insight, it is interesting to note that the most professional, disciplined, and incorruptible surveillance agents tended to harm the Jewish population far more than their corrupt and negligent peers. Thankfully for Russian Jews, the latter were found far more often than the former in Tsarist Russia. The example of Russia demonstrates that the surveillance of specific population groups should be viewed as a separate research subject, with its own history, where the key milestones do not always coincide with the milestones of broader historical processes. There is an obvious, close connection between the emergence and development of this type of surveillance, on the one hand, and the emergence and development of laws and/or bylaws that nourish and legalize the surveillance, on the other hand. Once published, discriminatory norms and decrees tend to breed entire chains of follow-up norms and decrees, making surveillance procedures increasingly more sprawling and complicated. Nonetheless, the ideal image of surveillance, as shaped by laws and bylaws, never matches what exists in practice. This study, yet again, highlights the limitations of government capabilities when it comes to establishing total surveillance not even over the population as a whole, but over individual groups within it, which has been remarked upon by researchers many times (see, e.g., Marx, 2003)16. Finally, the history of the profiling of Jews shows that institutionalized surveillance of certain population groups tends to cross national borders and be reproduced in neighboring countries, in countries with similar political cultures, or in countries with close geopolitical ties to those where such surveillance already exists (similar processes can be observed today in connection with Muslims and “undesirable” migrants). 15 While the treatment of the Marranos in Spain is sometimes considered an early form of racism, this interpretation is fairly controversial (Hering Torres, 2011). Attempts to detect racism in the actions of the governments of the German Empire and Tsarist Russia against Jews in the 19th century also run into serious obstacles and are faced with sound counterarguments (Dolbilov, 2010; Fitzpatrick, 2015; Vyleta, 2012; Weinerman, 1994). 16 Still, it bears noting that the capabilities of modern governments far exceed the capabilities that existed in the 19th century, much less in the early modern period. Changing Societies & Personalities, 2023, Vol. 7, No. 2, pp. 55–80 73 The conclusions drawn in this study add more nuance to the generally accepted notions of the emergence and development of racial profiling (which have lately been leaning more and more towards the mere reproduction of established cliches, ignoring vital differences in geographical, political, ideological, and social context). Case studies from other countries (including those outside Europe and the West) and from different eras will further contribute to the deepening of understanding of the surveillance of “dangerous” groups. This study has a number of important limitations. First, as it pursues the goal of painting a general picture of the profiling of Jews in the Russian Empire, it does not cover a number of important differences in the surveillance modes and practices in different Imperial territories: in St. Petersburg, Moscow, Kyiv, the Baltic States, Siberia, the fifty-verst frontier strip, etc. Second, not being an expert on the history of the Tsarist bureaucracy, the police, the Third Section of His Majesty’s Own Chancellery, or the other Imperial institutions involved in the creation and enforcement of profiling measures targeting Jews, I was unable to conduct a qualitative study of the impact of the growing complexity, scope, centralization, and professionalism of these institutions on the surveillance of the Jewish population. This key aspect had to be set aside. Third, due to a lack of opportunity to work with archives abroad, it was impossible to carry out a fully-fledged comparative analysis of the surveillance practices in Tsarist Russia and the European countries. All of these important subjects clearly could make a notable contribution to the research of the supervision of Jews in the Russian Empire, but they shall be reserved for future studies. References Andrejevic, M. (2004). The work of watching one another: Lateral surveillance, risk, and governance. Surveillance & Society, 2(4), 479–497. https://doi.org/10.24908/ ss.v2i4.3359 Andrejevic, M. (2011). Surveillance and alienation in the online economy. Surveillance & Society, 8(3), 278–287. https://doi.org/10.24908/ss.v8i3.4164 Avrutin, E. M. (2010). Jews and the imperial state. Identification politics in Tsarist Russia. Cornell University Press. Bah, A. B. (2006). Racial profiling and the war on terror: Changing trends and perspectives. Ethnic Studies Review, 29(1), 76–100. https://doi.org/10.1525/ esr.2006.29.1.76 Ball, K. (2010). Workplace surveillance: An overview. Labor History, 51(1), 87– 106. https://doi.org/10.1080/00236561003654776 Bechrouri, I. (2018). The informant, Islam, and Muslims in New York City. Surveillance & Society, 16(4), 459–472. https://doi.org/10.24908/ss.v16i4.6895 Bigo, D. (2007). Detention of foreigners, states of exception, and the social practices of control of the banopticon. In P. K. Rajaram & C. Grundy-Warr (Eds.), Borderscapes: Hidden geographies and politics at the territory’s edge (pp. 3–34). University of Minnesota Press. https://changing-sp.com/ https://doi.org/10.24908/ss.v2i4.3359 https://doi.org/10.24908/ss.v2i4.3359 https://doi.org/10.24908/ss.v8i3.4164 https://doi.org/10.1525/esr.2006.29.1.76 https://doi.org/10.1525/esr.2006.29.1.76 https://doi.org/10.1080/00236561003654776 https://doi.org/10.24908/ss.v16i4.6895 74 Kseniya S. Grigor’eva Bratina, M. P. (2014). Racial profiling. In J. S. Albanese (Ed.), The encyclopedia of criminology and criminal justice (Vol. 4). John Wiley & Sons. https://doi. org/10.1002/9781118517383.wbeccj219 Burbank, J. (2006). An imperial rights regime: Law and citizenship in the Russian empire. Kritika: Explorations in Russian and Eurasian History, 7(3), 397–431. https:// doi.org/10.1353/kri.2006.0031 Clarke, R. A. (1988). Information technology and dataveillance. Communications of the ACM, 31(5), 498–512. https://doi.org/10.1145/42411.42413 Crews, R. (2003). Empire and the confessional state: Islam and religious politics in nineteenth-century Russia. The American Historical Review, 108(1), 50–83. https:// doi.org/10.1086/533045 Derzhavin, G. R. (1872). Sochineniia Derzhavina [Derzhavin’s essays] (Vol. 7, pp. 229–332). Tipografiia Imperatorskoi Akademii nauk. Dolbilov, M. (2010). Russkii krai, chuzhaia vera: Etnokonfessional’naia politika imperii v Litve i Belorussii pri Aleksandre II [Russian land, foreign faith: The ethno- confessional policy of the empire in Lithuania and Belarus under Alexander II]. Novoe literaturnoe obozrenie. Dolbilov, M. (2012). “Poliak” v imperskom politicheskom leksikone [“Pole” in the imperial political lexicon]. In “Poniatie o Rossii”: K istoricheskoi semantike imperskogo perioda [“The concept of Russia”: To the historical semantics of the imperial period] (Vol. 2, pp. 292–339). Novoe literaturnoe obozrenie. Dolbilov, M. (2013, August 17). Kak obustroit’ Rossiiskuiu Imperiiu [How to arrange the Russian Empire]. Polit.ru. https://polit.ru/article/2013/08/17/dolbilov/ Endelman, T. M. (2002). The Jews of Britain, 1656 to 2000. University of California Press. European Commission against Racism and Intolerance. (2007, June 29). ECRI General Policy Recommendation No. 11 on combating racism and racial discrimination in policing. Council of Europe. https://www.coe.int/en/web/european-commission- against-racism-and-intolerance/recommendation-no.11 European Union Agency for Fundamental Rights. (2010). European Union minorities and discrimination survey—Main results report. Publications Office of the European Union. https://fra.europa.eu/en/publication/2012/european-union- minorities-and-discrimination-survey-main-results-report Feely, M. M., & Simon, J. (1992). The new penology: Notes on the emerging strategy of corrections and its implications. Criminology, 30(4), 449–474. https://doi. org/10.1111/j.1745-9125.1992.tb01112.x Fitzpatrick, M. P. (2015). Purging the Empire: Mass expulsions in Germany, 1871– 1914. Oxford University Press. https://doi.org/10.1002/9781118517383.wbeccj219 https://doi.org/10.1002/9781118517383.wbeccj219 https://doi.org/10.1353/kri.2006.0031 https://doi.org/10.1353/kri.2006.0031 https://doi.org/10.1145/42411.42413 https://doi.org/10.1086/533045 https://doi.org/10.1086/533045 https://www.coe.int/en/web/european-commission-against-racism-and-intolerance/recommendation-no.11 https://www.coe.int/en/web/european-commission-against-racism-and-intolerance/recommendation-no.11 https://fra.europa.eu/en/publication/2012/european-union-minorities-and-discrimination-survey-main-results-report https://fra.europa.eu/en/publication/2012/european-union-minorities-and-discrimination-survey-main-results-report https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1745-9125.1992.tb01112.x https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1745-9125.1992.tb01112.x Changing Societies & Personalities, 2023, Vol. 7, No. 2, pp. 55–80 75 Flaherty, D. H. (1986). Governmental surveillance and bureaucratic accountability: Data protection agencies in Western societies. Science, Technology, & Human Values, 11(1), 7–18. Flaherty, D. H. (1988). The emergence of surveillance societies in the western world: Toward the year 2000. Government Information Quarterly, 5(4), 377–387. https:// doi.org/10.1016/0740-624X(88)90026-3 Fuchs, C. (2011). Web 2.0, prosumption, and surveillance. Surveillance & Society, 8(3), 288–309. https://doi.org/10.24908/ss.v8i3.4165 Gandy, O. H., Jr. (1989). The surveillance society: Information technology and bureaucratic social control. Journal of Communication, 39(3), 61–76. https://doi. org/10.1111/j.1460-2466.1989.tb01040.x Gee, H. (2015). National insecurity: The national defense authorization act, the indefinite detention of American citizens, and a call for heightened judicial scrutiny. The John Marshall Law Review, 49(1), 69–99. Giddens, A. (1990). The consequences of modernity. Stanford University Press. Grigor’eva, K. (2019). Is ethnic discrimination a matter of common sense in the fight against crime and terrorism? Russian Sociological Review, 18(1), 107–139. https://doi.org/10.17323/1728-192x-2019-1-107-139 Grigor’eva, K. (2020). The genesis of ethnically motivated control in Russia: Keeping watch on the poles in the nineteenth century. Polish Sociological Review, 210(2), 199–218. https://doi.org/10.26412/psr210.04 Haggerty, K. D., & Ericson, R. V. (2000). The surveillant assemblage. British Journal of Sociology, 51(4), 605–622. https://doi.org/10.1080/00071310020015280 Harris, D. A. (2006). U.S. experiences with racial and ethnic profiling: History, current issues, and the future. Critical Criminology, 14(3), 213–239. https://doi. org/10.1007/s10612-006-9011-3 Henderson, T.-N. Y. (2016). Property, penality, and (racial) profiling. Stanford Journal of Civil Rights & Civil Liberties, 12(1), 177–211. Hering Torres, M. S. (2011). La limpieza de sangre. Problemas de interpretación: Acercamientos históricos y metodológicos [Purity of blood. Problems of interpretation: Historical and methodological approaches]. Historia Critica, 45, 32–55. Israel, J. (1998). European Jewry in the age of mercantilism 1550–1750 (3rd ed.). The Littman Library of Jewish Civilization. Iuristy za Konstitutsionnye Prava i Svobody. (2006). Etnicheski izbiratel’nyi podkhod v deistviiakh militsii v Moskovskom metropolitene [Ethnically selective approach in the actions of the police in the Moscow metro]. Novaia iustitsiia. https://changing-sp.com/ https://doi.org/10.1016/0740-624X(88)90026-3 https://doi.org/10.1016/0740-624X(88)90026-3 https://doi.org/10.24908/ss.v8i3.4165 https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1460-2466.1989.tb01040.x https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1460-2466.1989.tb01040.x https://doi.org/10.17323/1728-192x-2019-1-107-139 https://doi.org/10.26412/psr210.04 https://doi.org/10.1080/00071310020015280 https://doi.org/10.1007/s10612-006-9011-3 https://doi.org/10.1007/s10612-006-9011-3 76 Kseniya S. Grigor’eva Jankowski, T. M. (2020). The quality of vital registration of the Jews in East- Central Europe in the nineteenth century. Studia Judaica, 2, 235–280. https://doi.org/1 0.4467/24500100STJ.20.013.13656 Joskowicz, A. (2017). Toleration in the age of projects: Cameralism, German police science, and the Jews. Jewish Social Studies: History, Culture, Society, 22(2), 1–37. https://doi.org/10.2979/jewisocistud.22.2.01 Kang, J. (2001). Thinking through internment: 12/7 and 9/11. Amerasia Journal, 28(1), 41–50. https://doi.org/10.17953/amer.28.1.l2u1386ut1320143 Ketchell, S. I. (2009). Carceral ambivalence: Japanese Canadian “internment” and the Sugar Beet Programme during World War II. Surveillance & Society, 7(1), 21– 35. https://doi.org/10.24908/ss.v7i1.3305 Khenti, A. (2014). The Canadian war on drugs: Structural violence and unequal treatment of Black Canadians. International Journal of Drug Policy, 25(2), 190–195. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.drugpo.2013.12.001 Khiterer, V. (2016). Jewish city or inferno of Russian Israel? A history of the Jews in Kiev before February 1917. Academic Studies Press. Klier, J. D. (1986). Russia gathers her Jews: The origins of the “Jewish Question” in Russia, 1772–1825. Northern Illinois University Press. Klyachko, L. M. (2003). Za chertoiu v Moskve [Behind the pale in Moscow]. In K. Burmistrov (Ed.), Moskva evreiskaia [Jewish Moscow]. Dom evreiskoi knigi. Knepper, P. (2007). British Jews and the racialisation of crime in the age of Empire. British Journal of Criminology, 47(1), 61–79. https://doi.org/10.1093/bjc/azl027 Kotik, Y. (2002). Journey to a nineteenth-century shtetl: The memoirs of Yekhezkel Kotik (D. Assaf, Ed., M. Birstein, Trans.). Wayne State University Press. (Originally published in Yiddish 1913) Kovner, A. G. (2000). Iz zapisok evreia [From the notes of a Jew]. In V. Kel’ner (Ed.), Evrei v Rossii: XIX vek [Jews in Russia: 19th century] (pp. 178–246). Novoe literaturnoe obozrenie. Kurilla, I. (2016). Rabstvo, krepostnoe pravo i vzaimnye obrazy Rossii i SShA [Slavery, serfdom and the shared images of Russia and the USA]. Novoe literaturnoe obozrenie, 6, 425–440. Lohr, E. (2003). Nationalizing the Russian Empire: The campaign against enemy aliens during World War I. Harvard University Press. Löwe, H.-D. (2000). Poles, Jews, and Tartars: Religion, ethnicity, and social structure in Tsarist nationality policies. Jewish Social Studies, 6(3), 52–96. https://doi. org/10.1353/jss.2000.0011 https://doi.org/10.4467/24500100STJ.20.013.13656 https://doi.org/10.4467/24500100STJ.20.013.13656 https://doi.org/10.2979/jewisocistud.22.2.01 https://doi.org/10.17953/amer.28.1.l2u1386ut1320143 https://doi.org/10.24908/ss.v7i1.3305 https://doi.org/10.1016/j.drugpo.2013.12.001 https://doi.org/10.1093/bjc/azl027 https://doi.org/10.1353/jss.2000.0011 https://doi.org/10.1353/jss.2000.0011 Changing Societies & Personalities, 2023, Vol. 7, No. 2, pp. 55–80 77 Lyon, D. (Ed.). (2002). Surveillance as social sorting: Privacy, risk, and digital discrimination. Routledge. Lyon, D. (2009). Surveillance, power, and everyday life. In R. Mansell, C. Avgerou, D. Quah & R. Silverstone (Eds.), The Oxford handbook of information and communication technologies (pp. 449–472). Oxford University Press. Marx, G. T. (1985). The surveillance society: The threat of 1984-style techniques. The Futurist, 19(3), 21–26. Marx, G. T. (2002). What’s new about the “new surveillance”? Classifying for change and continuity. Surveillance & Society, 1(1), 9–29. https://doi.org/10.24908/ ss.v1i1.3391 Marx, G. T. (2003). A tack in the shoe: Neutralizing and resisting the new surveillance. Journal of Social Issues, 59(2), 369–390. https://doi.org/10.1111/1540- 4560.00069 Marx, G. T. (2015). Surveillance studies. In J. D. Wright (Ed.), International encyclopedia of the social & behavioral sciences (2nd ed., Vol. 23, pp. 733–741). Elsevier. https://doi.org/10.1016/B978-0-08-097086-8.64025-4 Meeks, K. (2000). Driving while black: Highways, shopping malls, taxicabs, sidewalks: How to fight back if you are a victim of racial profiling. Broadway Books. Meir, N. M. (2010). Kiev, Jewish metropolis: A history, 1859–1914. Indiana University Press. Miller, A. (2006). Imperiia Romanovykh i natsionalizm: Esse po metodologii istoricheskogo issledovaniia [The Romanov empire and nationalism. An essay on the methodology of historical research]. Novoe literaturnoe obozrenie. Mysh, M. I. (1914). Rukovodstvo k russkim zakonam o evreiakh [Guide to Russian laws on Jews] (4th ed.). Tipografiia A. Benke. Nathans, B. (2002). Beyond the pale: The Jewish encounter with late imperial Russia. University of California Press. O dostavlenii svedenii o nedvizhimykh imushchestvakh vne gorodov, mestechek i posadov, nakhodiashchikhsia vo vladenii i arendovanii evreev (Tsirkuliar Ministerstva vnutrennikh del gubernatoram No. 746) [On the collection of information about real estate owned and leased by Jews outside cities, shtetls and posads (Circular of the Ministry of Internal Affairs to the governors No. 746)]. (1900, May 23). State Archive of the Russian Federation (GARF) (Fund 102, Inventory 76a, Case 1909), Moscow, Russian Federation. O proekte izmenenii i dopolnenii v Svod Remeslennykh Postanovlenii ot 16 aprelia 1852 [On draft amendments and additions to the Code of Crafts Regulations of April 16, 1852]. (1853). In Polnoe sobranie zakonov Rossiiskoi imperii [Complete collection of laws of the Russian Empire] (Collection 2, Vol. 27, Section 1, pp. 272–277). Tipografiia II otdeleniia sobstvennoi Ego Imperatorskogo Velichestva kantseliarii. https://changing-sp.com/ https://doi.org/10.24908/ss.v1i1.3391 https://doi.org/10.24908/ss.v1i1.3391 https://doi.org/10.1111/1540-4560.00069 https://doi.org/10.1111/1540-4560.00069 https://doi.org/10.1016/B978-0-08-097086-8.64025-4 78 Kseniya S. Grigor’eva O proizvodimoi evreyami Volynskoi gubernii tainoi korrespondentsii i priniatii mer protiv sego [On the secret correspondence of the Jews of Volyn Governorate and measures against it]. (1837–1839). State Archive of the Russian Federation (GARF) (Fund 109, Inventory 12, Case 221), Moscow, Russian Federation. O vladenii i arendovsnii evreiami nedvizhimykh imushchestv vne gorodov, mestechek i posadov (Tsirkuliar Ministerstva vnutrennikh del gubernatoram No. 2982) [On the ownership and lease of real estate by Jews outside cities, shtetls and posads (Circular of the Ministry of Internal Affairs to the governors No. 2982)]. (1889). State Archive of the Russian Federation (GARF) (Fund 102, Inventory 76a, Case 588), Moscow, Russian Federation. O vsemirnom evreiskom kagale, uchrezhdennom s tselyami, vrazhdebnymi khristianskomu naseleniiu (Tsirkuliar Ministerstva vnutrennikh del gubernatoram No. 2725) [On the worldwide Jewish Kahal created for purposes hostile to the Christian population (Circular of the Ministry of Internal Affairs to the governors No. 2725)]. (1880). State Archive of the Russian Federation (GARF) (Fund 109, Inventory 165, Case 412), Moscow, Russian Federation. O vysylke iz S. Peterburga evreev [On deportation of Jews from St. Petersburg]. (1832). State Archive of the Russian Federation (GARF) (Fund 109, Inventory 6, Case 328), Moscow, Russian Federation. Paperna, A. I. (2000). Iz Nikolaevskoi epokhi [From the Nicholas era]. In V. Kel’ner (Ed.), Evrei v Rossii: XIX vek [Jews in Russia: 19th century] (pp. 28–176). Novoe literaturnoe obozrenie. Petrovsky-Shtern, Y. (2003). Evrei v russkoi armii: 1827–1914 [Jews in the Russian Army: 1827–1914]. Novoe literaturnoe obozrenie. Pis’mo na imya ministra politsii general-leitenanta i kavalera Aleksandra Dmitrievicha Balashova ot Tsundeia Zonnenberga [Letter to the Minister of Police, Lieutenant General and Commander Alexander Dmitrievich Balashov from Zundey Zonnenberg]. (1813). State Archive of the Russian Federation (GARF) (Fund 1165, Inventory 1, Case 10, Part 7), Moscow, Russian Federation. Pis’mo shtab-ofitsera Korpusa zhandarmov polkovnika Vlasova grodnenskomu grazhdanskomu gubernatoru vitse-gubernatoru i kavaleru Khodoleiu No. 99 [Letter of Colonel Vlasov, a staff officer of the Corps of Gendarmes, to the civil governor of Grodno, Vice-Governor and Commander Khodoley, No. 99]. (1831). State Archive of the Russian Federation (GARF) (Fund 109, Inventory 6, Case 705), Moscow, Russian Federation. Po voprosu ob udobstve vozlozhenia na politsiiu kontrolia za zaniatiiami evreev- remeslennikov v gorodskikh poseleniiakh, gde remeslennye upravlenia budut uprazdntny [On the issue of entrusting the police with monitoring the occupations of Jewish artisans in urban settlements where trade councils will be eliminated]. (1902). State Archive of the Russian Federation (GARF) (Fund 102, Inventory 59, Case 10, Part 100), Moscow, Russian Federation. Changing Societies & Personalities, 2023, Vol. 7, No. 2, pp. 55–80 79 Raeff, M. (1975). The well-ordered police state and the development of modernity in seventeenth- and eighteenth-century Europe: An attempt at a comparative approach. The American Historical Review, 80(5), 1221–1243. https://doi.org/10.2307/1852058 Raport Korpusa zhandarmov polkovnika Vlasova shefu zhandarmov, komanduiushchemu imperatorskoyu glavnoyu kvartiroyu, general-ad’iutantu i kavaleru Benkendorfu [Report of Colonel Vlasov of the Corps of Gendarmes to the Chief of Gendarmes, Commander of the Imperial Headquarters, Adjutant General and Commander Benckendorff]. (1831). State Archive of the Russian Federation (GARF) (Fund 109, Inventory 6, Case 705), Moscow, Russian Federation. Renshaw, D. (2022). Old prejudices and new prejudices: State surveillance and harassment of Irish and Jewish communities in London—1800–1930. Immigrants & Minorities, 40(1–2), 79–105. https://doi.org/10.1080/02619288.2021.1934673 Rogger, H. (1986). Jewish policies and right wing politics in imperial Russia. Palgrave Macmillan. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-1-349-06568-4 Rosenblat, A., Kneese, T., & boyd, d. (2014). Workplace surveillance (Data & Society Working Paper). Data & Society Research Institute. https://datasociety.net/ library/workplace-surveillance/ Slezkine, Y. (2004). The Jewish century. Princeton University Press. Sliozberg, G. B. (1933). Dela minuvshikh dnei: Zapiski russkogo evreia [Days gone by. Notes of a Russian Jew] (Vols. 1–2). Izdanie Komiteta po chestvovaniiu 70-letnego iubileia G. B. Slіozberga. Spruill, L. H. (2016). Slave patrols, “packs of Negro dogs” and policing Black communities. Phylon, 53(1), 42–66. Svedenia o evreiakh dantistakh, fel’dsherakh, farmatsevtakh, prozhivaiushchikh vo vnutrennikh guberniakh (Tsirkuliar Ministerstva vnutrennikh del gubernatoram No. 1632) [The collection of information about Jewish dentists, feldschers, and pharmacists living in the inner governorates (Circular of the Ministry of Internal Affairs to the governors No. 1632)]. (1890, May 7). State Archive of the Russian Federation (GARF) (Fund 102, Inventory 76a, Case 623), Moscow, Russian Federation. Svedenia o evreiakh kuptsakh i sluzhashchikh pri nikh, prozhivaiushchikh vo vnutrennikh guberniiakh (Tsirkuliar Ministerstva vnutrennikh del gubernatoram No. 1318) [The collection of information about Jewish merchants and their employees living in the inner governorates (Circular of the Ministry of Internal Affairs to the governors No. 1318)]. (1890, April 17). State Archive of the Russian Federation (GARF) (Fund 102, Inventory 76a, Case 622), Moscow, Russian Federation. Svod zakonov Rossiiskoi imperii, poveleniem Gosudaria Imperatora Nikolaia Pavlovicha sostavlennyi: T. 14: Svod ustavov blagochiniia [Code of Laws of the Russian Empire, by order of Sovereign Emperor Nicholas Pavlovich: Vol. 14: The code of the deanery statutes]. (1842). Tipografiia Vtorogo otdeleniia Sobstvennoi Ego Imperatorskogo Velichestva kantseliarii. https://changing-sp.com/ https://doi.org/10.2307/1852058 https://doi.org/10.1080/02619288.2021.1934673 https://doi.org/10.1007/978-1-349-06568-4 https://datasociety.net/library/workplace-surveillance/ https://datasociety.net/library/workplace-surveillance/ 80 Kseniya S. Grigor’eva Vermel, S. S. (2003). Evrei v Moskve [Jews in Moscow]. In K. Burmistrov (Ed.), Moskva evreiskaia [Jewish Moscow]. Dom evreiskoi knigi. Vital, D. (1999). A people apart: A political history of the Jews in Europe 1789– 1939. Oxford University Press. Voronkov, V., Gladarev, B., & Zagitova, L. (Eds.). (2011). Militsiia i etnicheskie migranty: Praktiki vzaimodeistviia [Police and ethnic migrants: Interaction practices]. Aleteia. Vyleta, D. M. (2005). Jewish crimes and misdemeanours: In search of Jewish criminality (Germany and Austria, 1890–1914). European History Quarterly, 35(2), 299–325. https://doi.org/10.1177/0265691405051468 Vyleta, D. M. (2012). Crime, Jews and news. Vienna 1895–1914. Berghahn Books. Vypiska iz evreiskikh pisem [Extracts from Jewish letters]. (1830–1831). State Archive of the Russian Federation (GARF) (Fund 109, Inventory 5, Case 403), Moscow, Russian Federation. Waddington, P. A. J. (1999). Discretion, “respectability” and institutional police racism. Sociological Research Online, 4(1). Weinerman, E. (1994). Racism, racial prejudice and Jews in late Imperial Russia. Ethnic and Racial Studies, 17(3), 442–495. https://doi.org/10.1080/01419870.1994.99 93835 Westin, A. F. (1966). Science, privacy, and freedom: Issues and proposals for the 1970’s. Part I—The current impact of surveillance on privacy. Columbia Law Review, 66(6), 1003–1050. https://doi.org/10.2307/1120997 Zuboff, S. (2019). The age of surveillance capitalism: The fight for a human future at the new frontier of power. Public Affairs. https://doi.org/10.1177/0265691405051468 https://doi.org/10.1080/01419870.1994.9993835 https://doi.org/10.1080/01419870.1994.9993835 https://doi.org/10.2307/1120997