Connect with us

Uncategorized

Why I don’t love ‘Jew hate’ as a substitute for ‘antisemitism’

(JTA) — I read a lot about antisemitism — as a professor researching prejudice, as a former fellow at a Holocaust memorial center, as a blogger for The Times of Israel, as the son of a Jewish father who was so grateful to get to live in the United States and as the father of a Jewish son in that same country, but with antisemitism on the rise. 

I’ve noticed a shift in what I’m reading. The media, especially social media, are increasingly replacing the term “antisemitism” with a new term: “Jew hate.”

Simply put, antisemitism is Jew hate,” Richard Lovett, co-chairman of Creative Artists Agency, the world’s leading entertainment and talent agency and a marketing and branding powerhouse, remarked last month in an address encouraging his industry to fight antisemitism. Also last month, the governor and attorney general of Massachusetts, the mayor of Boston and other state leaders launched a campaign to “#StandUpToJewishHate,” an effort bankrolled by New England Patriots owner Robert Kraft. 

Brooke Goldstein, the founder of the pro-Israel Lawfare Project and author of the book “End Jew Hatred,” has started an organization with the same name. The nonprofit JewBelong launched the #EndJewHate billboard campaign in 2021 in cities around the country.

London’s Jewish Chronicle — the oldest continuously published Jewish newspaper in the world — has now run several articles using “Jew hate” in addition to or instead of “antisemitism.”

I have asked colleagues who work on Holocaust remembrance, fighting antisemitism and promoting tolerance why they now prefer “Jew hate” to “antisemitism.” They consider it strong and clever branding, jarring and unapologetic, and I can’t argue with that. The phrase packs a punch. And it aligns Jewish groups with a larger social phenomenon: the various efforts to study and stop the menacing resurgence of hate groups. There are new university centers for the study of hate, new hate-focused conferences and several journals dedicated to hate studies. Hate is hot. Branding antisemitism as “Jew hate,” it is hoped, will help to mainstream concern about antisemitism.

The popularity of “Jew hate” coincides with concerns about the term “antisemitism.” Once usually spelled “anti-Semitism,” the term is increasingly spelled without the hyphen and with a lowercase first “s.” This change was made out of concern that the former spelling reinforced the pseudo-scientific, long-discredited idea that Jews are members of the “Semitic” race.

Nevertheless, adopting “Jew hate” in place of “antisemitism” is a big mistake. It misses way too much.

A JewBelong bus ad in downtown San Francisco, part of a nationwide campaign to raise awareness of antisemitism. (Gabriel Greschler/J. Jewish News of Northern California)

The term “antisemitism” — like the reality it describes — encompasses not only hate, but also fear and envy. People can fear or envy Jews without hating them. True, these biases can lead to stereotypes about Jews and the negative consequences of those stereotypes. People with preconceived notions about Jews are likely to notice and remember selectively or simply hear and believe whatever supports their biases while disregarding, disbelieving or downplaying information to the contrary. One Jewish head of a major newspaper or movie studio, according to this thinking, shows that Jews control the media. In this way, antisemitism can be self-perpetuating even when not powered by outright hatred.

“Jew hate” does not take into account apathy, the lack of concern that throughout history has allowed the actual haters to get away with much more than they would have otherwise. Nor does “Jew hate” take into account a dangerous kind of admiration. Well-meaning people may have positive stereotypes about Jews being intelligent and good in certain professions. These biases are not hateful, but they do reduce Jews to stereotypes.

“Jew hate” does not adequately capture antisemitism born of ignorance — not only of Jewish history and culture but also of the history and effects of antisemitism. Ignorance about Jewish culture, history and traditions can contribute to discrimination against Jews, thus perpetuating antisemitism even when there is no hate. The rising and amazing ignorance of the facts of the Holocaust, for example, sets the stage for more people to dismiss or downplay its severity. That, in turn, will breed resentment — or worse — toward Jews, who are increasingly being cast as obnoxious and self-pitying for insisting that the Shoah happened and seeking to remind the world how bad it was. 

If it irritates people when a Jew doesn’t care to join them in singing Christmas carols or to buy the annual Christmas stamp, that’s not necessarily hatred. It’s probably just ignorance of what it means to be in the minority versus the majority. Nevertheless, such ignorance, like ignorance of the Holocaust, can have an antisemitic effect.

Most alarming, the concept of “Jew hate” undermines the fight against antisemitism by — and this was supposed to be a point in its favor — making antisemitism just one instance of a broader category: hate. It should go without saying that one should be against most forms of hate. “Hate has no home here” lawn signs are admirable. But there are essential differences between each form of hate. They are not simply flavors to be served up when the media or a corporation wants to take a popular position. Diseases of the society, like diseases of the body, need to be understood and combatted on their own specific terms. Antisemitism has its own distinct history and pathology. The fight against antisemitism is not just the fight against white supremacy or misogyny or Islamophobia with a different name on the tee shirt. 

Ultimately, what worries me most is that the concept of “Jew hate” lets people off too easily. Most people aren’t going to defend hatred, but having disavowed hatred, there’s still a lot to answer for. Antisemitism is real and there seems to be no end in sight. The digital age has amplified the speed and spread of anti-Jewish tropes, extremist ideologies and antisemitic conspiracy theories. 

Metal detectors and armed guards are now common at major Jewish gatherings. That’s a sign of real sickness in the culture, but rebranding antisemitism to fit more neatly into the “fight hate” agenda isn’t the cure.


The post Why I don’t love ‘Jew hate’ as a substitute for ‘antisemitism’ appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.

Continue Reading

Uncategorized

Memoirs of a young female courier in Warsaw during the Holocaust

„הײַנט װעט זיכער עפּעס פֿאָרקומען.“ אַזױ רעדן צװישן זיך ייִדן, װאָס האָבן זיך צונױפֿגעזאַמלט אױף אַ ראָג גאַס אינעם װאַרשעװער געטאָ. אײנער פּרוּװט זײַן אָפּטימיסטיש: „ייִדן, שרעקט זיך נישט, איר װעט זען, מיט גאָטס הילף, װעלן מיר די נײַע גזירה אױך איבערקומען“. דאָס איז געװען דער 22טער יולי 1942, דער ערשטער טאָג פֿון דער „גרױסער דעפּאָרטאַציע“, װען די דײַטשן האָבן אַרױסגעפֿירט אַרום 250 טױזנט ייִדן אין די אומברענג־לאַגערן.

מיט דער סצענע עפֿנט װלאַדקע מיד איר בוך זכרונות „פֿון בײדע זײַטן געטאָ־מױער“ װעגן איר לעבן אין װאַרשע בעתן חורבן. לכתּחילה זײַנען זיי אַרױס אין המשכים אין „פֿאָרװערטס“ גלײַך נאָך איר אָנקומען קײן אַמעריקע אין 1946. אין 1948 איז דאָס בוך דערשינען בײַ דעם בילדונג־קאָמיטעט פֿון אַרבעטער־רינג. אין 1977 איז דאָס בוך אַרויס אױף ענגליש מיט אַ הקדמה פֿון אלי װיזעל. איצט איז פּובליקירט געוואָרן אַ פֿאַרברײטערטע אױפֿלאַגע באַגלײט מיט הקדמות פֿונעם היסטאָריקער שמואל קאַסאָװ און פֿונעם איבערזעצער, װלאַדקעס זון סטיװען (שלמה) מיד.

Courtesy of Penguin Random House

וולאַדקע מיד ברענגט דעם לײענער גלײַך אַרײַן אין דער אַטמאָספֿער פֿון האָפֿענונג, שרעק און ייִאוש וואָס האָט געהערשט אינעם װאַרשעװער געטאָ. זי לאָזט דעם לײענער הערן דעם מישמאַש פֿון שטימען פֿון ייִדן, דײַטשן און זײערע אוקראַיִנער מיטהעלפֿער, פֿון װעלכע עס שאַפֿט זיך די טראַגישע געשיכטע פֿון די לעצטע צען חדשים פֿונעם געטאָ.

צום גליק האָט זי אױסגעמיטן די טעגלעכע „אַקציִעס“, װען די „מונדירן“ — דער נאָמען פֿאַר דער ייִדישע פּאָליצײ אױפֿן געטאָ־לשון — האָבן געכאַפּט ייִדן פֿאַר די דעפּאָרטאַציעס. באַלד איז זי געבליבן אַלײן: „די מאַמע, ברודער און שװעסטער זײַנען אַװעקגעפֿירט [געוואָרן] אין דער פּײַנלעכער אומבאַװוּסטקײט“. װלאַדקע האָט אָבער געהאַט אַ גוטן מזל צו באַקומען אַן אַרבעט אין אײנעם פֿון די װאַרשטאַטן װאָס האָבן באַדינט די דײַטשן.

נאָך דער צװײטער „סעלעקציע“ אין סעפּטעמבער 1942 האָבן די געבליבענע ייִדן זיך גענומען צוגרײטן אַ װידערשטאַנד: „אױב שױן אומקומען, זאָל זײַן מיט װירדע, זאָל כאָטש דער שׂונא באַצאָלן אַ טײַערן פּרײַז פֿאַר אונדזער לעבן!“

יונגערהײט האָט װלאַדקע זיך באַטײליקט אינעם „ייִדישן אַרבעטער בונד“, און די דאָזיקע פֿאַרבינדונג האָט איר געהאָלפֿן בלײַבן לעבן בשעתן חורבן. חוץ דעם, האָט זי געהאַט אַ „גוטן אַרישן אױסזען“, גערעדט פּױליש אָן שום ייִדישן אַקצענט. די בונדיסטישע אונטערערדישע פֿירערשאַפֿט אינעם געטאָ האָט איר פֿאָרגעלײגט צו װערן אַ קוריער צװישן דעם געטאָ און דער אַרישער זײַט. אַזױ איז דאָס ייִדישע מײדל פֿײגעלע פּעלטעל געװאָרן אַ פּױלישע פֿרױ װלאַדיסלאַװאַ קאָװאַלסקאַ, בקיצור — װלאַדקע.

בהדרגה װערט זי אײַנגעגלידערט אינעם „נאָרמאַלן“ לעבן צװישן קריסטלעכע פּאָליאַקן. צוערשט איז זי געװען אָפּטימיסטיש: „איך האָב געװאָלט גלױבן, אַז בײַ די פּאָליאַקן איז דאָ אַ שטאַרקן אינטערעס צו העלפֿן זײערע באַקאַנטע ייִדן.“ אָבער באַלד האָט זי דערזען, אַז מען װיל גאָר ניט װיסן װעגן דעם, װאָס עס קומט פֿאָר אױף יענער זײַט געטאָ־מױער.

די אױפֿגאַבע פֿון װלאַדקע און אירע חבֿרים אױף דער אַרישער זײַט איז געװען צו קריגן געװער פֿאַרן געטאָ. קײן דערפֿאַרונג און קײן גוטע באַציִונגען מיט דער פּױלישער אונטערערדישער אַרמײ האָבן זײ אָבער ניט געהאַט: „גאַנצע טעג לױפֿט מען אַרום איבער דער שטאָט. מען זוכט און נישטערט. ממש צו יעדן באַקאַנטן פּאָליאַק, װאָס רופֿט נאָר אַרױס צו זיך אַ ביסל צוטרױ, הײבט מען גלײַך אָן צושטײן און בעטן: העלפֿט אונדז שאַפֿן געװער, מיר װעלן גוט באַצאָלן!“

אָבער לרובֿ באַקומען זײ קנאַפּע הילף. אָפֿט מאָל נעמט מען בײַ זײ געלט און גיט זײ גאָר נישט, אָדער, נאָך ערגער, מסרט מען זײ צו די דײַטשן. און אַפֿילו װען זיי קענען יאָ קריגן אַ רעװאָלװער, מוזן זײ געפֿינען אַן אופֿן, װי אַזױ אים אַרײַנצושמוגלען אינעם געטאָ.

דאָס בוך איז אַ געשפּאַנטע לעקטור. װלאַדקע מיד איז אַ באַגאַבטע דערצײלערין, װאָס דערקלערט פּרט נאָך פּרט אַלע אַספּעקטן פֿון איר געפֿערלעכער אַרבעט. יעדער טאָג קען זײַן דער לעצטער, װען מען װײסט ניט, צי מען װעט דערלעבן ביז אָװנט. זי האָט אַ סך מער מפּלות אײדער דערפֿאָלגן, און אין אַ סך פֿאַלן איז זי געראַטעװעט געװאָרן דורך אַ גליקלעכן צופֿאַל.

קאַסאָװס הקדמה באַשרײַבט דעם ברײטערן היסטאָרישן קאָנטעקסט פֿון יענער תּקופֿה, און מיד גיט צו פּערזענלעכע פּרטים װעגן זײַן מאַמעס לעבן פֿאַרן חורבן אױפֿן סמך פֿון אירע אינטערװיוען אין דער אַמעריקאַנער פּרעסע.

בײַם איבערזעצן האָט מיד אַרײַנגעשטעלט אין קלאַמערן קורצע דערקלערונגען, װאָס העלפֿן בעסער פֿאַרשטײן דעם קאָנטעקסט. ער האָט באַשלאָסן אָפּצוהיטן ייִדישע װערטער פֿון דער ספּעציפֿישער געטאָ־שפּראַך, אַזעלכע װי „אַקציע“, „מונדירן“, „בלאָקאַדע“. דאָס שאַפֿט דעם עפֿעקט פֿון עכטקײט, אָבער אין אײניקע פֿאַלן רופֿט די דאָזיקע סטראַטעגיע אַרויס פֿראַגעס: צוליב װאָס האָט ער „איבערגעזעצט“ דאָס װאָרט „קריסטין“ אינעם ייִדישן מקור ווי Shikse? בכּלל איז די איבערזעצונג זײער פֿרײַ און צו מאָל װײַט פֿונעם ייִדישן טעקסט.

אין אַמעריקע האָט װלאַדקע מיד געװידמעט איר לעבן דער חורבן־דערציִונג, און די נײַע אױפֿלאַגע פֿון איר בוך איז ממשיך דעם דאָזיקן שליחות. דאָס איז אַ װיכטיקער צוגאָב צו דער װאַקסנדיקער ביבליאָטעק פֿון דאָקומענטן און פֿאָרשונגען װעגן װאַרשעװער געטאָ. צום באַדויערן איז די געשיכטע פֿונעם ייִדישן װידערשטאַנד קעגן דער דײַטשישער אָקופּאַציע נאָך ניט געהעריק אײַנגעשלאָסן אינעם אַמעריקאַנער „האָלאָקאָסט עדוקײשן“, אַפֿילו אין ייִדישע טאָגשולן.

װען איך דערצײל למשל די געשיכטע פֿון װאַרשעװער געטאָ אין מײַן קורס פֿון דער ייִדישער קולטור־געשיכטע אין מזרח־אײראָפּע בײַם מישיגענער אוניװערסיטעט פֿרעגן אַ סך פֿון די סטודענטן: „פֿאַר װאָס האָט מען אונדז דאָס ניט דערצײלט אין אונדזערע קלאַסן װעגן דעם חורבן? דאָס איז אַזױ װיכטיק צו װיסן!“

עד־היום זעט מען אָפֿט מאָל די חורבן־געשיכטע דורך דעם שפּאַקטיװ פֿונעם מאַסנמאָרד. װלאַדקע מידס בוך אָבער, שרײַבט קאַסאָװ, „האָט דערװיזן, אַז איר קאַמף צו בלײַבן לעבן, אױף צו להכעיס אַלע שׂונאים, לייקנט אָפּ די סטערעאָטיפּישע טענה, אַז די ייִדן זײַנען פּאַסיװ געגאַנגען צו זײער אומקום.“

The post Memoirs of a young female courier in Warsaw during the Holocaust appeared first on The Forward.

Continue Reading

Uncategorized

5 more killed by Iranian missiles as shrapnel falls at Ben Gurion, curbing more flights

(JTA) — Five more people were killed overnight by Iranian missiles aimed at Israel: a man from Thailand in the country’s center, and four Palestinian women who had been preparing to break the Ramadan fast in their West Bank village. One was six months pregnant.

The deaths come as Iran has increasingly turned to cluster munitions, which break apart and shed smaller bombs along their path — making them much harder for Israel’s air defense systems to intercept.

Shrapnel from interceptions also fell at Ben Gurion Airport in recent days, damaging private planes and causing the airport authority to extend the cancelation of regular flights and limits on the number of people who can travel on “rescue flights” meant to allow travelers to leave and Israelis abroad to return. Several foreign carriers, including Delta and United, announced the cancellation of flights to and from Israel until at least June.

Nearly three weeks of fighting, launched jointly by the United States and Israel against Iran, have thrown the Middle East into turmoil and shocked the global economy. Under pressure over rising gas prices, U.S. President Donald Trump distanced himself early Thursday from an Israeli attack on an Iranian oil field, but in a post on Truth Social, he reserved the right to attack the site himself if Iran continued to target energy infrastructure elsewhere in the Middle East.

The developments come as questions mount about how long Israel can continue to intercept Iran’s ballistic missiles. Semafor reported this week that U.S. officials believe the Israelis are running low on interceptors, but Israeli authorities tamped down those concerns on Wednesday. A combination of increased use of cluster munitions and a shortage of interceptors would put Israelis at increased risk.

This article originally appeared on JTA.org.

The post 5 more killed by Iranian missiles as shrapnel falls at Ben Gurion, curbing more flights appeared first on The Forward.

Continue Reading

Uncategorized

West Bloomfield Iraqi Christians rushed to aid Temple Israel on a terrifying day. An open invitation for Shabbat followed.

Last week’s attempted attack on Temple Israel in West Bloomfield, Michigan, prompted the Shenandoah Country Club across the street — which serves the town’s Iraqi Christian Chaldean community — to provide a refuge across cultural lines.

Staff turned a ballroom usually reserved for weddings into a reunification area. By the afternoon, 140 children from the Temple Israel day care center, who had no idea they were escaping a terror attack, were safe inside.

The next night, the same room filled again with refugees from Temple Israel. This time, the event space hosted 1,000 congregants gathered for Shabbat.

Shenandoah Country Club President Patrick Kattoo said when a staff member told him about a possible shooting across the street, “I instructed him to direct all those people into our building, into our ballroom, and immediately give them what they need.”

Kattoo proceeded to allow law enforcement to set up command centers at Shenandoah, as children and teachers sheltered in the ballroom for hours. Around 5 p.m., relieved families were reunited at the country club.

In true Iraqi fashion, Kattoo said the children were kept well fed. “It was Thursday, so our chef was here. We just brought them out chicken tenders and fries, M&Ms, waters, and drinks. There were infants here that were in diapers, and fortunately, we have diapers that we keep on hand.”

Patrick Kattoo and the chief of the West Bloomfield police department Courtesy of Patrick Kattoo

Once he arrived, Kattoo said Temple Israel community members were in “panic mode.” “There were just a lot of frightened children. And I’ll tell you one thing: Shenandoah will not stand to see frightened children.”

Around 40 more children and their teachers did not make it to the country club, and instead found safety in the home of a Chaldean neighbor.

Township Supervisor Jonathan Warshay recounted that Rabbi Paul Yedwab wondered, “you know, would he be holding funerals for these children? And then they learned where they were.”

Jewish community members expressed their deep gratitude for the Chaldean community.

Temple Israel rabbi Jason Bennett told the Forward, “They immediately sprang into action, everything from just giving us their space to baking cookies for the kids and creating an atmosphere where, at least for the children, it was safe and secure, and families could come and reconnect with their kids. It was a beautiful part of this tragic day to see children just shielded from everything.”

Some Temple Israel adults said that because of the bucolic environment at the country club, many of the children thought they had gone on a field trip.

Rabbi Bennett recounted hearing about one child recapping the day at bathtime: “The child said, ‘Well, I was so excited. I got to read a story, and then I did some art, and then I got to meet a police officer.’ That was her recounting, which is remarkable.”

‘It was really natural’

Chaldeans are Iraqi Christians who traditionally speak Aramaic, and Michigan has the largest population of Chaldeans outside of the Middle East.

The Chaldean community makes up 24% of West Bloomfield’s 65,000-person population. The Jewish and Chaldean communities have long shared a special relationship there, with joint youth programs, shared meals between community leaders, and parking lots often shared between Temple Israel and Shenandoah Country Club during large community events.

“Throughout my career, these last 32 years, they have been inextricably linked to the Jewish community,” said Bennett. He noted that in other difficult moments, the two communities have supported one another.

“We were together after 911 and supported each other. When Oct. 7 came, they came into our sanctuary, and their entire board was with us for our vigil service,” he recounted. “They brought a significant donation at that time to the Jewish community to help our emergency campaign for Israel. And so it was really natural when something like this happens, for them to be our partners.”

According to Chaldean community member Jibran Jim Manna, who was born in Baghdad, the love the Chaldean community has for Jews goes all the way back to Iraq. “Prior to us immigrating to the U.S., our neighbors were Jewish, and we loved them; they were good to us.”

He said the shared experience of being minorities forced to flee Iraq has shaped that bond. “They all had to get out of Iraq,” he said, “and we had to leave there too.” He added, “Some of us, like myself, think of ourselves as one of the lost tribes of Israel, because we are so close in culture.”

A Chaldean’s first Shabbat service

The day after the attempted attack, roughly 1,000 members of the Temple Israel community gathered in the Shenandoah Country Club ballroom for Shabbat services.

Kattoo said Temple Israel rabbis had told him on Thursday in the attack’s immediate aftermath that they had nowhere to hold services. The sanctuary had been badly damaged in the attack, in which the assailant’s vehicle had caught fire. “I said, ‘Well, our doors are open, you could do it here tomorrow,’” Kattoo recalled.

Bennett said that while Temple Israel had received multiple offers to host services, holding them at Shenandoah “felt like the natural fit, given the long-standing partnership and the role that they had played in that day.”

He added: “They set up for us, they welcomed people in, they partnered with police and law enforcement agencies, and we just had this magnificent gathering of 1,000 people to celebrate what had gone right.”

The rabbis were able to bring the “miraculously” recovered Torahs to the country club. But the temple’s prayer books had been destroyed, so the service was held without them.

The theme of the evening was honoring acts of heroism. According to Warshay, congregants “gave a standing ovation to the leaders of Shenandoah and to the security personnel.”

For Warshay, a highlight was seeing families together in the immediate aftermath of a traumatic event. “There were many families at the service, a lot of young children. We sort of heard them talking and playing around,” he said, adding, “It was quite emotional.”

Kattoo said as congregants entered the ballroom for services, he “greeted every single one of them,” then stayed as the community joined in prayer.

“I don’t speak Hebrew,” he said, laughing. “But you know, I thought it was a beautiful service. I learned something. It’s beautiful to see that they have their community gather every single week on a Friday. To me, it’s unbelievable. It’s my first Shabbat service I’ve ever seen in my life.” He added, “I kind of wish we did that once a week.”

According to Kattoo, the outpouring of thanks from the Jewish community has been overwhelming. “Their gratitude was beyond what I could expect.”

While Temple Israel is in the process of moving services to the Berman Theater at the local JCC, Kattoo said his offer to host Shabbat services still stands: “If the banquet hall is available, I’ve told them it’s more than theirs.”

The post West Bloomfield Iraqi Christians rushed to aid Temple Israel on a terrifying day. An open invitation for Shabbat followed. appeared first on The Forward.

Continue Reading

Copyright © 2017 - 2023 Jewish Post & News