Antisemitism has been a tangible and, to varying degrees, violent presence in my life since at least third grade, which would have been in 1970 or so, when John W – it’s amazing that I remember his name – having learned the day before that I was Jewish, came up to me in the playground while we were choosing sides for dodgeball and said, “My father told me I’m not allowed to play with Jews.” I can’t recall whether or not I was permitted to be part of the game that day, but I can see very clearly the one and only fistfight I have ever had, which happened later that year. I don’t know why John B and I ended up in the middle of the schoolyard circle of boys pushing us towards each other, trying to get one of us to throw the first punch, but I do know that John W was not the only voice I heard reassuring John that I was “only a Jew” and therefore “weak and easy to take.” In the end, the first and only punch was mine. I landed one right on John’s chin and he started bleeding and the sight of his blood frightened us all into running wherever it was that we ran to. I was scared because I thought I’d really hurt him, but I found out later I’d only broken a scab on his face. For the next couple of years at least, no one called me a “weak Jew” again.
Next came the pennies. Still in third grade, my classmates started throwing pennies at me in the schoolyard. At the time, I did not know the antisemitic canard of the cheap Jew, and so I did not at first understand why they thought it was so funny when I picked the pennies up. Since I would often end up with as much as twenty cents – an amount that meant something to a third grader back then – I laughed at them for being so stupid that they were giving me free money; I wasn’t even curious about why they were also laughing at me. Eventually, someone explained to me just what the pennies were supposed to signify – I wish I could remember who it was – but I continued picking them up anyway, since it still seemed to me that my classmates were the ones making idiots of themselves. Then, in fifth grade – which means people had been throwing pennies on and off for two years – someone started one day to throw pennies at me in the classroom; someone else actually handed me an entire roll of pennies; and then a group started chanting “Jew! Jew! Jew! Jew!” My teacher stood by and did nothing, and even after he’d calmed the class down and got us all back in our seats, he did nothing to acknowledge the antisemitic nature of what had just happened. And I was one of his favorite students!
Then there was the music teacher, who made a point of embarrassing me in front of the entire class for not knowing a reference in a Christmas song – “Don’t you Jews know anything?” – and who was mortified when I asked if we could learn to sing a Chanuka song, and who once almost refused to let me go the fifteen minutes early I had permission for so that I could get to my Hebrew School class on time because “Jews were always asking for special favors,” and why should I get out of singing the Christmas songs that everyone ought to know? In sixth grade, in my graduation signature book, Jim wrote on the very first page, “Rose are red, violets are blue/I never met a nicer Jew.” Evan: “To the Jew, Have a penny good time in 7th grade.” Andy: “Of all the pushy Jews, you top them all.”
In seventh grade, I was accused of truancy because I stayed home from school for the first two days of Succot, the Festival of Booths, a holiday in the Jewish calendar that is as major as Passover – meaning that it is a holiday you are not supposed to work or go to school on – but which very few Gentiles know about because it does not coincide with any Christian holidays and is not as easily explainable as Rosh HaShana, the New Year, or Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. When the attendance officer called my house, she was surprised that I answered – I guess she figured I would try not to be found – and when I explained to her about Succot, she thought I was lying. “There are Jews at work here today,” she said. When I suggested to her that maybe they were not religious (I was, at the time time, thinking I might want to be a rabbi when I grew up), she told me to stop being so sneaky. “You’re all alike,” she said.
In eighth grade, I changed schools and started going to a yeshiva about twenty minutes by car away from my house. I no longer had problems with antisemitism at school, and I cannot even begin to explain how relieved I felt not to have to explain myself all the time, but the problems in my neighborhood continued. From about ninth grade on, I was more or less constantly harassed in the street, called Jew, kike, heeb.I was threatened with being cooked in an oven, crucified as revenge for the killing of Christ and being sacrificed to the devil because all Jews were going to hell anyway; I had beer bottles thrown at me, rocks the size of softballs. My home was robbed and my room was singled out for particularly vicious attack. The thieves carved the word “Kike” into the door of my closet; they threw the books of Jewish learning that I had on my shelves on the floor and walked all over them. There were entire years when I had to carry something I could use as a weapon if I was going into certain areas of my neighborhood, especially if I was walking alone, but even when I went with “friends,” because the antisemites hung out in those areas and I had learned from experience that I could only rarely count on my friends to stand with me if I was assaulted or even just threatened with physical assault.
These antisemites wrote antisemitic graffiti about me on the walls of the library. The cop who arrested the kid doing the spray painting was very smart; he made sure to wait until the kid was done so that the antisemitic nature of the graffiti was clear, and the kid could be charged with a more serious crime. It took the town where I lived, however, three years before they decided to try to clean the graffiti off the wall, and then they did such a bad job of it that, fifteen years later, when I brought the woman who is now my wife to meet my mother for the first time, you could still read the words, “Newman is a penny Jew,” and make out the drawing of a penny that the artist had drawn, just in case you didn’t get the point. Sixteen more years later, actually just one year ago, making it thirty one years after the graffiti had originally been written, when I drove by one day with my son, I stopped to show him where I lived when I was growing up, and you could still make the graffiti out, though I don’t know if you’d be able to read it if you didn’t already know what it said. The point is that the town never actually bothered to erase it; they waited for the elements to do it.
In eleventh grade, my class went on a trip to somewhere that included a tour of a ship of historical importance. (I don’t remember which one.) We were standing on the deck, when a group of much younger kids, probably in elementary school, came on board. One of the girls asked one of the adults accompanying them why the boys in my group were wearing those “funny hats.” The adult explained that they were called yarmulkes and it meant we were Jewish. “Oh,” the kid said, a tone of wonder completely bereft of irony creeping into her voice. “Then where are their horns?” I did not hear the adult’s answer.
Finally, in twelfth grade English class – I had switched from yeshiva back to public school – while discussing Andrew Marvell’s “To His Coy Mistress,” Mr. Giglio asked if anyone knew the biblical reference in the poem’s closing lines: “Thus, though we cannot make our sun/Stand still, yet we will make him run.” I raised my hand and said it referred to Joshua making the sun stand still at the battle of Gibeon. Mr. Giglio looked at the rest of the class, “You should be ashamed of yourselves! This boy who doesn’t go to church knows the bible better than you; the Battle of Gibeon was in the reading this past Sunday!”
That same year, Joan invited me to her house for dinner. It was a big deal for me. I didn’t have many friends in my class, and it helped a lot that she was cute. As we sat around the table after the meal, I don’t remember why, but the subject of the Holocaust came up. Joan’s father said something to the effect that, well, maybe a couple of thousand Jews at most had been killed in the concentration camps, but the idea that 6 million had died was just preposterous. Moreover, he said, the fact that so much of the world believed it was 6 million the result of some very good propagandizing on the part of the Jews and, particularly, Israel. He said this in the most friendly of ways, trying to educate my misguided self. To her credit, Joan argued with me against him, but I sat there feeling like I was being punched in the stomach over and over again. I wanted to throw up. I had heard about Holocaust deniers, but I had never actually met one in the flesh, and hearing what he said made me physically sick. I was not invited to Joan’s house again, and what had been the beginnings of our friendship stopped growing right there.
If I were to continue this accounting of antisemitism in my life and tell you about things that happened to me in college, in the working world, in my career as a college professor, and in my marriage to an Iranian Muslim woman, the examples would, in general, grow less and less frequent, more and more subtle and the overt violence or threat of violence would completely disappear. With the exception of having been advised when I was a teenager not to bother applying for a job at the country club near my home, since it was well-known that they did not hire Jews, I have never been denied a job because I am Jewish; I have never had a hard time getting a loan, renting or buying an apartment, or in any of the other aspects of life that are made difficult if not impossible for people who are structurally discriminated against in this country. I live a relatively comfortable life. I am not afraid when I walk down the street that someone, because of who I am, will decide to call me out in some way or attack me outright — though it’s also important to acknowledge that I live in New York City, probably one of the safest places to be Jewish in the US, and that there are places in this country where it would be foolish of me not to feel that fear at least a little bit. (I also should point out that all of the examples of antisemitism I gave above took place in a town on Long Island just over the border dividing Queens from Nassau County; for all intents and purposes, in other words, in New York City.)
So, on the one hand, antisemitism was a central experience of my growing up a Jew in the United States; on the other hand, as I have grown older, it has receded in prominence, partially because of where I live and partially because its structural manifestations have been almost, if not entirely eliminated – to the point where I can sometimes pretend it does not exist.
Except when it comes time to discuss the Israeli-Palestinian conflict and Zionism.
I have never, not even among Jews, not even among Jews with whom I pretty much agree 100%, had a discussion about that conflict where the question of antisemitism has not arisen. Either someone’s critique of Israel is nakedly – or not so nakedly – antisemitic, or someone who is not Jewish feels it necessary to instruct me when I want to point out the antisemitism in a critique of Israel or Zionism that not all such critiques are by definition antisemitic, or someone who is Jewish calls antisemitism when it isn’t there, or, among Jews, we spend time analyzing the antisemitism in critiques of Israel, or complaining about the antisemitism in critiques of Israel, and so on and so on and so on.
Indeed, it often feels these days that the Israeli-Palestinian conflict is the only context in which a discussion antisemitism is taken seriously. It gives antisemites an opportunity to cloak their antisemitism in an argument that has a considerable amount of moral high ground built into it, and to call foul when Jews and our allies say, “Wait a minute! We’re not going to let you get away with antisemitism just because the policies of the Israeli government deserve criticism.” More importantly, I think, for Jews and our allies, precisely because antisemitism is not taken seriously enough as a phenomenon in and of itself, a reality of Jewish lives independent of what goes on between Israel and the Palestinians, and precisely because secular Zionism and that State of Israel were founded largely in response to antisemitism, discussions of the Palestinian-Israeli conflict become one of the few opportunities we have to talk about antisemitism period, all of it, how it has worked and continues to work all over the world. The result is that what should be a conversation about Israel and Palestine and the people who are living and fighting and dying there ends up bearing the burden of, for example, not only every instance of antisemitism I listed above, but the history out of which that antisemitism arises and that continues to give it context. No single conversation should have to bear that burden. Antisemitism is thousands of years old; millions upon millions of Jews have suffered and died, and there are places where they continue to suffer and die, worldwide because of it. Inevitably, then, trying to fold into a discussion of the Palestinian-Israeli conflict all of the discussion that needs to happen around the fact that antisemitic values are still very much alive in the world, including within the Palestinian-Israeli conflict, is going to result in the invisibility of the extreme suffering the Palestinians endure daily at the hands of the Israelis, of which the recent assault on Gaza is only an extreme example.
This is the point, though I am late in the game in terms of the timeliness of this post, at which I want to enter the frustrating, fascinating, and, at times, infuriating discussion generated by David Schraub’s guest posts on Feministe titled, “We Cannot Live Without Our Lives” Either: Jews, Privilege, and Anti-Subordination and Anti-Semitism and Subordination Part II: The Myth of Jewish Hyper-Power. I am not going to recap all of the ways in which David was critiqued, accurately or not, nor am I – at least not at first – going to address head on the points where I disagree with him. Rather, I want to explore the ways in which I empathize with him, because even though I disagree with him now quite profoundly, there was a time when I would have agreed with him almost absolutely and the empathy that would have led to that agreement still remains.
Final note before I move on to Part 2: There have also been a number of posts at Alas in response both to David’s posts and the discussion they have generated that I think are important to read: Talking about anti-semitism now, by Maia and Posts About Anti-Semitism Often Hit Home For Me by Mandolin. Julie has written Why I’ve Stopped Talking About Gaza, as well as Dear Non-Jewish Activists: and This is not my community. (Other posts on Alas that are important include Links to Israeli and Jewish voices opposing Israel’s attacks on Gaza and Inhuman. There are others as well.)
There is also a tangentially related post up at Feministe, “Distinguishing a Political Stance from a Racist Stance”, the discussion of which deals with the issues raised by the common use of the term anti-Semitism to mean Jew-hating, especially when the term is used to describe the words or actions of Arabs, who, obviously, are Semitic (far more so than I am, for example). Indeed, the rhetorical question asked by the Arab author of the paper to which this post refers is, “How can we, as Semites, be anti-Semitic?” Julie’s comment, I think, does a fine job of critiquing that question and how it is often used, so I am not going to repeat it here. My point in raising the whole question of the term anti-Semitism is to explain why I write it the way I do: antisemitism.
I wish I could remember the book where I first encountered this tactic so I could quote for you accurately the original rationale behind it, but I can’t. I have been writing the term this way ever since I read that book, however, because it allows me to continue using the word in common usage for Jew-hating while at the same time drawing attention away – however slightly – from the fact that in its original form it referred to Semitic people, and even then, it did so inaccurately. When Wilhelm Marr popularized the term in 1879 so that Jew-hating would have a scientific and therefore objectively, legitimizing word that could be used to refer to it, he obviously did not even consider the Arabs worthy of notice. The term, in other words, has a double oppression embedded in it, and it would be much better if we could find a different word, especially since discussions of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, the situation of Jews in the Arab world and so on inevitably involve questions of Arab antisemitism. Antisemitism, however, is the word that we have. “Jew-hating” is difficult, I think, because the word “hating” inherently raises the stakes and implies that all expressions and manifestations of antisemitism exist at the same level of intensity and harmfulness and so it removes, for me anyway, the feeling that nuance is possible in these discussions. “Orientalism,” which is mentioned in a quote in one of Julie’s comments might be a term that encompasses as April Rosenblum – the person Julie quotes – says, “a larger oppression that both groups [Arabs and Jews] experience,” but it would take quite a bit of work, I think, to make that term really useful in describing the oppression of European Jews who are so clearly not “Oriental,” even though I would agree they were “orientalized” as part of their oppression; and since I do not want this series of posts to have to do that work, I am going to stick with the term that we have, though in a form that is, I hope, alienated enough from itself that people will be willing to accept it as the word that refers to the (usually racialized) hatred of the Jews.
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Thanks for this. I’m glad you’re doing this series. I was serious – I really have learned quite a lot from your participation in these conversations thus far. It helps a lot that you’re discussing personal anecdotes here. At that other post, well… I don’t really know *what* specifically is being called anitsemitic.
And you know? I did start to wonder about geographic location over the course of these threads – and how that might affect one’s experiences of antisemitism. For my part, I did not even *know* about any of these stereotypes before I became an adult. I never heard other kids voice them either, and I was… Well, I was white but also fairly perceptive in picking up stereotypes (My dad was kind of an anti-racist activist.). What I *did* hear (in the South) were racist statements about Blacks and Latin@s – and sometimes also about Arabs.
I do think geographic location affects these things. I’m from a part of the Bible Belt where Black/White and now Latin@ relations define much of our history of racism. I came through public school at a time when the Christian Right was in the middle of its ascendancy in American politics. This hugely affected my school experience. Abstinence education had just become a hugely politicized ordeal, as had “creationism” in the schools. All of my Biology books had disclaimers pasted in them explaining to us that evolution is “just a theory and should not be understood as definitive truth.” As there were very, very few Jews in my school, I very rarely – if ever – heard Jews discussed.
What I *did* hear was evangelical Christian *idealization* of Jews as “God’s Chosen people.” (Daisy has a good post on this right now, linked from one of those threads.) I knew about the Holocaust and about the stereotypes that the Nazis associated with Jews, but I never heard anyone ever repeat them. I *did* hear Jews subjected to extremely essentializing idealization (largely these Christians thought they could facilitate the Armageddon that they sought to bring about through the state of Israel. Christians talking about how Israel holds a “special place” in their hearts. People like Sarah Palin who “love Israel.”). This is an insidious form of stereotyping, I think, but it isn’t the same as what has been delineated as traditional antisemitism. I am only familiar with these more traditional tropes as a result of my English major encounter with Shylock at the age of 18, as well as with some other literature and philosophy. I have never once heard anyone actually spout them. If I had, I’d rebuke them in short order. I have always associated these tropes with Nazism, and it’s horrific to me that you encountered so much of this in New York as a child.
Since my grandfather was a Mason, I knew a slight bit of information about the Protocols of the Elders of Zion – and specifically that it was a hoax deployed by Nazis in order to justify the killings of both Jews and Freemasons.
All of this is to say: There are reasons why I feel automatically defensive when someone accuses me of being antisemitic in an Isarel/Palestine discussion. First of all, I have *not once* deployed any of these tropes. Nor has anyone ever shown me where I have (or where they might be read into anything I’ve said). My impassioned response wrt I/P has a lot more to do with my instinctive opposition to the Christian Right – and nothing at all to do with any any of these tropes. Which I never learned, which (despite what David seems to be arguing) were never deeply ingrained in my education in the same way as the racism I learned (I did need to deal with and overcome that.). I can’t make this claim about all of the South – or even about all of my city – but this was my experience. Everything I ever heard about antisemitism was that it was *so* evil, so terrible, that it brought about the Holocaust. Having never seen it in any of these contemporary contexts, I feel like I am being called a Nazi when someone says “antisemitism.” And again, if I’m drawing on any of these tropes, I’m open to hearing about it, it’s just… My opposition to Zionism (and particularly to the Christian Zionism) that I have encountered so much more often – has nothing at all to do with Jews. And when I’m told that I must support Zionism in order *not* to be an antisemite, I’m a little confused: I don’t see that as antisemitism. I see it as anti-Dominionism, and I’m unapologetic about it.
By the time I reached college, I did encounter some of these things – in Shakespeare, in Marx, in other literature. But I was an adult who was able to recognize it for what it was by then, and so… Still, I never heard anyone say these things. It was not a part of the racist/ethnocentric culture where I grew up, not really. And at that time, I was highly involved in pro-Palestinian activism and engaged in dialogue with a very large Arab population down South.
And so… I think it helps me to recognize what a difference geographical location makes. I would guess that many of these stereotypes might be more well known in the North and in places like New York or Chicago or Boston than they were in my community. Your experiences help me to understand the context of these things a lot more. While I can understand the sorts of experiences that lead one to suspect prejudice, it’s really hard for me to respond to questions about some kind of “deeply ingrained antisemitism” that I am alleged to possess. It just *wasn’t* a part of my socialization, at all. And it’s hard for me to engage when that becomes the assumption. Or when I feel that I am being called upon to prove my anti-antisemitism creds for voicing criticisms of Israel. And, in any case, what would that help? Wouldn’t *anyone* in such circumstances claim that they weren’t really antisemitic? So… If charges about antisemitism are to be leveled, shouldn’t they have more to do with one’s obvious deployment of these bigoted stereotypes? But they’ve been leveled at me for merely criticizing Israel. And so… Seeing what you have to say here is helpful. I mean, maybe I should just, well, move on when this happens. I have reflected. I started doing so ten years ago when I first met a large community of Jews (through the organization Jews for a Just Peace), and this kind of stereotyping is just…really not where I’m coming from. At all. In any case, thanks for your post. I am continuing to learn a lot.
btw, I suspect generation may also make a difference. You say you were in third grade in 1970, meaning I’m about 17 years younger than you.
You know, I wonder if there is any parallel with manifestations of racism – and reactions to being called a racist – in the US. Where I come from, everyone talks about racism. Despite its limited success, I think the Civil Rights Movement really succeeded in getting racism talk out on the table. And so… It’s possible to suggest that someone said something racist and to then have a calm discussion about it.
But now that I’ve moved up North… Racism is understood as something that is *only* a Southern problem, and people react to charges of racism as if they have just been called the Grand Dragon of the KKK. I mean, it is taken to be The Worst Thing in the World Ever. And I don’t know how to respond to that… Racism talk was a big part of my socialization, and it’s NOT that big of a deal to just…speak about it or consider the unintended racist consequences of various remarks.
And so… It has occurred to me more than once that there might be a parallel here wrt my reaction to being called antisemitic. So, I have gone back and looked over at my words and scoured over them for examples that could appear to be drawing on the sorts of stereotypes that you mention here. And I can’t find any, but nor, really, can anyone else. So, the charge seems to be mainly that my opposition to Zionism (with all the historical baggage and complexity that word carries) makes me an antisemite. And I don’t know what to say about that. I really do not. I don’t think that oppositino about a *political project* that is being funded by my government – and that has dire humanitarian consequences – is antisemitic. It’s not that I don’t *understand* why Jews may feel they need the kind of security allegedly provided by the state of Isreal (I honestly don’t think Israel is making Jews safer.). It’s that I’m sickened by the many human rights abuses that my government either engages in or funds. And I have a right to be upset about that. I don’t know… When I, as an American citizen, am tacitly responsible for thousands upon thousands of civilian deaths throughout the Middle East (and certainly not only – or even mostly – as a result of Israeli state aggression), and when these deaths are ongoing and number in the thousands… It feels urgent. Too urgent to stop and reflect, to be honest.
Kristin–
There is a lot to respond to in your comments, which are wonderful. Thanks for leaving them. Unfortunately, I am now starting to prep for the start of classes tomorrow and I don’t know when I will have the time to give them the attention they deserve. Let me just say that I do not think your opposition to Zionism, and as you have phrased here I assume that you mean Zionism-as-embodied-in-the-policies-of-the-state-of-Israel, is antisemitic in the least. What becomes difficult is when the opposition to Zionism flows over into how Jews understand ourselves as a people, which clearly is not monolithic, but certainly one valid way of understanding the Jews is as a people with (a dispersed and diasporic) national identity – if that is not too much of a contradiction in terms. In other words, to deny the validity of Zionism as one possible idea about Jewish identity/being/whatever does, I think, start to get into the realm of antisemitism. There is a longer conversation to be had about why I think that is so, and I am hoping the series of posts I want to write will start to get at it – but let me say that I do not perceive your words as you have written them here as having crossed over into that realm.
I would just like to thank you for writing this. I am not a participator on Feministe (I read occasionally, but I do not consider it a place that I can comment safely), but I appreciated your comments there as well.
Thanks for this, and yeah, I am referring to Zionism as embodied in the policies of the state of Israel, but it’s helpful to me to (begin to) understand how it’s not *just* that to the Jewish community. Makes much more sense to me now, and I’ll try to clarify far better when I speak of Zionism as embodied in the policies of the state of Israel (and supported by the Dominionist fundamentalist Christian community in the US as well).
“What becomes difficult is when the opposition to Zionism flows over into how Jews understand ourselves as a people, which clearly is not monolithic, but certainly one valid way of understanding the Jews is as a people with (a dispersed and diasporic) national identity – if that is not too much of a contradiction in terms. In other words, to deny the validity of Zionism as one possible idea about Jewish identity/being/whatever does, I think, start to get into the realm of antisemitism.”
I am really looking forward to your development of this, because this is something I need to understand.
I am anti-Zionist as in saying that I think the creation of the political state of Israel was wrong. (Another thing is that now that it is here I am firmly against any idea or plan to violently *dismantling* it.) Both because the land where it was created was not empty, so it resulted in the disenfranchisement of other people — and because I believe nationalism in the form of creating a one-nation political state is wrong as a political project in the first place, no matter who it is that does it.
But to me, the concept of a “Jewish nation” is another thing, different from the actual, political state that is Israel. “Nation” and “Political State” are two different concpets to me. If Jews — or some Jews or even one Jew only — feel that the concept of a Jewish Nation is important to their identity, I don’t think it is my business as a non-Jew to question or even discuss that. I think it is my business instead to listen and to try and understand what that means to the people in question.
Would you say that this stance is antisemitic? The problem I had with David Shraub’s argument over at Feministe was exactly this. I read him as saying I should accept antisemitism in myself because I think the creation of the state of Israel was wrong. I can’t do that.
I think my experience is somewhat similar to Kristin’s with respect to antisemitism. My country (Nordic) does have a Jewish minority, but I never met antisemtic tropes anywhere but in history lessons either when I grew up (and then they were presented as something wrong and evil.) (This of course doesn’t have to mean that antisemitism was never a problem anywhere in my country as I grew up, only that *I* never experienced it or heard of it.)
In the earlier years of my adulthood, antisemitism continued to be a historical or foreign phenomenon only to me. The fact that one of our former secretary of foreign affairs was a Jew was something I was not even aware of before he gave an interview about the holocaust experiences of his family. The fact that he was a Jew was not in any way a secret — it was not like it was “revealed” in that interview or anything — it was just me not paying attention because no one either in the media or among people I related to considered his Jewish identity to be even remotely relevant to his position or politics. I didn’t agree with him politically so spent a lot of energy discussing his political agendas — but the fact that he was Jewish never entered into that.
I first met antisemitism as a real problem in my community and as something I was made aware of as a contemperary problem with the rise of the neo-Nazi movement. Those groups have never been big here, but they have popped up now and then, and have sometimes targeted synagogues etc. That has made me furious, always, as it has anyone I have related to or discussed with, the main media included. But the bulk of neo-Nazi activity in my country has been targeting Muslim immigrants and blacks (including assasination) so even in that connection the topic of antisemitism has not been the most prominent one. Neo-Nazism = Racism has been much more prominent, because of their own activities.
My stance to the state of Israel was originally informed mostly by “Solidarity with the Palistinians” groups in the seventies (yes I am that old…)- but I am not an activist on that front now, because I think too many there have been too willing to excuse or explain away if not downright applaud too many wrongs on the Palestinian side. Terrorism and radical Islamism are both big wrongs to me, no matter who it is that advocates or employs it…
Now, because of the ongoing escalation of the Israel/Palestinian conflict, both antisemitism and the accusation that a critque of Israel beyond a certain point is in itself antisemtic, is on the rise here. The antisemitism in connection to this conflict doesn’t seem to reach back very much to old antisemitic tropes, though, at least not on any major scale. It is more a conflating of Israel with all Jews, with some people (most troublesome of all, young people) no longer saying they are “against Israel” but “against the Jews” — and a few believing this gives them the right to attack and blame *any* Jew for what is going on in the Middle East — Jewish children included! This is very troublesome and potentially very very dangerous, considering the horrors it may lead to. For instance, the Neo-Nazis are applauding and seeking to influence anti-Israel demonstrations etc…
Ok, enough of where I come from. One thing I have learned from the discussion in the thread over at Feministe, is that it is maybe more important in this context than in many others to know where people are coming from… I admit that I have problems hearing antisemitism in connection with my own political views, too — it *does* read “Nazi” to me — and *that* has always read as “Evil on Earth” to me, an ideology I perceive as being as far away from my own views as you can get. I mean I have no problems if someone says to me that they think I am *unfair* or *wrong* to call the state of Israel a nationalistic project. But since Nazi ideology is also rooted in — among a lot of other things! — nationalistic ideas, it is hard for me to understand how my anti-nationalistic stance can be even remotely compared to a Nazi ideology or the cores of antisemitic ideas.
But then, of course, my critics may hear “Nazi” when I say “nationalistic ideas” too, perhaps with as much right as me when I hear “antisemtism” as “Nazi”. It is difficult to take these things as calmly as one perhaps should, for all of us, I guess…
Ok, this is getting too long. You don’t have to answer extensively here when you are planning to develop these themes more in a series of posts — which I am looking forward too a lot. But I would like to know if you consider my political view on Zionism antisemtic, and why.
Torill, you wrote
I recognize that neither you nor Kristin are asking me to be a spokesperson for the Jews about what is and what is not antisemitic, I just feel the need to say that, obviously, I cannot and would never try to fill that role. That being said, I will tell you that I don’t think your views are antisemitic. To treat Zionism as you would any other nationalism is very obviously not singling Zionism out for special treatment.
There is more I want to say about what you and Kristin have to say about never having encountered antisemitic tropes/images/stereotypes, because I think that the absence of education about those things, as well as Jewish culture in general – especially since the Holocaust – is a kind of structural antisemitism, in the same way that the absence of education about racism and homophobia, for example, as well as about African-American and gay and lesbian culture, are examples of structural racism and homophobia. But I don’t have the time to say more than that. I need to prep my classes.
Thanks for commenting!
Heh, no, not asking you to be a spokesperson. This is just useful to me because I’m realizing that it’s important – as Torill mentions – to understand where people are coming from here.
It’s probably inaccurate to suggest that I knew nothing about Jewish stereotypes. What I was suggesting, to be more clear, was that I never heard folks – who nevertheless often felt comfortable saying racist things about Blacks and Latin@s all over the place – deploy them. I *only* heard about them in the context of Nazi Germany and the Klan (and other neo-Nazi groups). For instance, we’d see documentaries in school about the Holocaust that would introduce evil propaganda videos of the time as such. What I did *not* know was that people who were not identified with Nazi movements still used and/or deployed these stereotypes. I can see how this might be a form of structural antisemitism, but I would also suggest that… It has something to do with the fact that these *weren’t* free-flowing stereotypes where I came from, *and* we were educated about how wrong these things were. I knew about the ongoing presence of racism not because my teachers really taught us about its persistence, but because I saw it every single day in every facet of my school system – Black kids tracked into remedial classes for no obvious reason, Black kids punished far more severely than white kids for alleged “misbehavior,” the redneck contingent with Confederate flags flying from their pick-up trucks. This is my experience. It permeates that region in a way that these antisemitic tropes, I think, may not.
But the Klan was in decline during my time and in my community. In the ten years before I came through school, a huge public battle had been waged to weaken and discredit the Klan – and to drive it out of the Raleigh/Durham/Chapel Hill area (where I grew up). I’m prepared to believe that that area is different from most of the South wrt racism and antisemitism as well. It’s fairly progressive and somewhat moderate with the exception of the Christian Right’s political power. As with the Nazis, my education also associated great and terrible evil with the Klan. It’s just that, given our context, we knew that people could deploy racist stereotypes *without* being murderous Klan members – that’s why we could talk about racism and call people out and begin to deal with it. I did not – and don’t – have such a context when it comes to antisemitism.
Anyway, no, I’m not asking you to be the arbiter of all things antisemitic as a Jewish person. I’m just realizing that context is really, really important here. I had *no idea* that my use of the term “Zionist” could be heard as a code word for all Jews everywhere (and Jewish identity to boot), but that’s a *really* important thing to know when discussion I/P, eh? I mean, as someone who as no sympathy for essentialisms like this, I would hate to ever be heard as spouting them. So, that’s one way that I could be *heard* as spouting antisemitic tropes even though that’s not at all where I’m coming from. I guess I’m just saying… It’s really important to get the contexts around these words, I think. And I’m glad you’re explaining some of them.
Thanks for a speedy answer!
“I recognize that neither you nor Kristin are asking me to be a spokesperson for the Jews about what is and what is not antisemitic, I just feel the need to say that, obviously, I cannot and would never try to fill that role.”
I understand. I would never expect any one individual to represent a whole group, and never go around saying: OH, I know what “The Jews” think because I spoke to this guy online and he says… I don’t even believe that any such single entity as “The Jews” exist, any more than I believe that about any other group of people.
I feel the need to say also that I don’t expect any random Jew to always have an obligation to “educate” me on every aspect of antisemitism or any other topic related to Jews. Or tell me what to do to not be antisemitic. Or whatever. It is just that since we have both recently participated in a discussion that became pretty heated and — and since what you posted here was a little unclear to me — I asked *you in particular* about *one particular line of argument* that I have used in this *particular* discussion to check were the two of us stand in *this particular conversation*.
I felt the need to say it in this nitpicky fashion right now, because I realise that sometimes people belonging to underprivielged groups may be pretty pissed off by priveleged white heterosexual women (which I know that I am) coming up to them and asking for absolution and a “bona fide anti-racist/semitist/homophobic etc. card” that they can show in any discussion from now on… I solemnly swear that I will never use the “I am not an antisemite, because Richard J. Newman said so!” card in any argument with anybody!
Ok.
Just to clarify about my background: It is not that I never encountered any anti-semitic tropes as a grew up — I did, I was educated about them and read about them later, quite extensively too. As I was also thouroughly educated about Holocaust in school. But I never saw or heard any of those tropes being used against any actual Jews, or spoken in earnest against Jews in general, whether in the media or in my “real life”. Ever. Like I said, it may be that I just wasn’t in those circles where it happened, so therefore didn’t know. Whenever I heard of it as a phenomenon in the modern world, it was referred to as something happening elsewhere in the world.
It may very well be that I was subjected to a kind of national propaganda as a child — or self deceit (as in: “this kind of thing is happening in ugly racist societies elsewhere, but not *here* in *our* country any more, because we are so Good and Special. Yes, ugly things happened here during the war, but that was in the past.”) — made possible, perhaps, by the fact that the Jews are a comparatively small group in our country, so not especially threatening…
Of course, the real persons to ask whether my experiences are indeed a result of actual antisemitism made invisible in my society as I grew up, so part of a structural antisemitism, or if it really *was* relatively scarce here in those days, would not be me, but the Jewish of the same age as me in my country.
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I wanted to thank Kristin and Torrill for continuing to engage this issue. Kristin, I had a number of thoughts about Christian Zionism and whether it’s antisemitic, but I left them over at Daisy’s place because it seemed more germaine to her post and I didn’t know if that’s a topic Richard planned on taking on.
Chingona– Could you provide the link to Daisy’s place. I think I have it somewhere, but I can’t find it, and I would love to read what she has to say. Thanks.
http://daisysdeadair.blogspot.com/2009/01/more-on-israel-gaza-antisemitism-and.html?showComment=1232560620000
As you’ll see in my comment, I have a pretty strong interest in the subject because I’m married into a family of evangelical Christians including Christian Zionists. I disagree with Daisy and Kristin that these folks are not antisemitic, though it takes a different form than the more commonly known kinds.
chingona: I’m not sure that I completely agree that it’s not antisemitic either. As I say here, I think it’s essentializing in a way that isn’t emancipatory, whatever it is. It seems clear to me that it doesn’t fit the “traditional” antisemitic tropes that are being associated here (and there) with antisemitism (like associations with money, banking, scheming, etc.), but it is… Well, it’s an –ism of some sort, yeah. I’m not really qualified to judge whether it “counts” as antisemitic or not, but I’m sure at least that it’s problematic (and essentializing in another way).
Also – chingona, if you’re interested in finding out more about this, the two books that I listed at Daisy’s blog are good.
The argument I’m making is that antisemitism isn’t just those old tropes. It’s more than that. At least, it looks that way from where I sit.
When I read up above that you never heard anyone say anything antisemitic, everyone thought Jews were great, it just feels false. Not false like you’re lying, but false like they don’t really think we’re great.
I think the other perspective I bring to this is that when I was a kid in Texas, I got a lot of the “Christ-killer” stuff. I never got the money stuff there but I definitely got the Christ-killer, so I think I’m predisposed to be suspicious of Christians’ views of Jews. I’m actually amazed that you say you never heard stuff like that.
Thanks for the recommendations (though you don’t have to convince me of the danger represented by the Christian Right).
Hey chingona: i responded to you more over there on Daisy’s blog. You must have an interesting perspective on this – I’d love to see a post from you too. To be clear, I’m not completely in agreement with Daisy over there, but I am in agreement with the overall point she’s making.
I saw that. I responded to her and started to respond to you, but I think I’m pissing her off, and it’s not my intent and I’m not part of her community, so I’m just going to talk to you here (sorry, Richard) instead of tromping all over her blog.
I’m sure there are a lot of people wouldn’t use the word antisemitic — just that it’s problematic or dehumanizing or essentializing or whatever. It’s not like any of those words are good things, so I’m not wedded to antisemitic, though I’ll continue to perceive it that way.
But I kind of disagree with you on this:
I’m not unequivocally claiming that this cannot be considered antisemitic … I do think it’s clear that it’s not what we have been referring to over on feministe (and on Richard’s blog) as “traditional” antisemitism (it’s none of these “traditional” tropes having to do with greed, money, banks, etc.). It is…prejudice of some kind
I think this is part of the subtext that at least some of the commenters were bringing into the discussion at Feministe. I know I brought it into the conversation.
Reading your first couple comments on the top of this thread here made me realize just how much people really were talking past each other on the Feministe thread. The words we’re using don’t mean the same thing to us. It sounds like you’re used to moving in activist circles that use words like Zionist one way and there were a bunch of people on the thread that use Zionist in a different, broader, looser way. It was a real lightbulb moment for me when you wrote that you didn’t realize that Zionist could mean something other than supporting the Israeli government’s policies or that Zionist could be heard as a code word. And it was a real lightbulb moment when you said that being accused of antisemitism made you feel like you were being called a Nazi. I don’t think I ever called you antisemitic (if I did, I’m sorry), but when I was using that word on that thread, I definitely didn’t mean “Nazi.”
I’m sure you’ve read Richard’s second post by now. It basically says everything that I was hoping people might get out of discussing antisemitism and why discussions about I/P seem to get so horrifically fraught between people who actually agree on a bunch of stuff — like Palestinians are people too and peace depends on respecting their human rights and extending full civil rights, lifting the Occupation, etc.
Sorry for hijacking your space here, Richard.
I don’t feel hijacked at all. In fact, I was going to ask Kristin if she could distill for me what Daisy is trying to say. I found her very difficult to read, but I think she is trying to say something very important. While I have never lived in the south, I have had my share of run-ins with evangelical Christians, not a few of whom have given me the idealized-chosen-people line; it has always struck me as classically antisemitic (though in a very roundabout way) in that it is, like an awful lot of explicit Christian antisemitism, rooted in the idea that the Jews were chosen and then made a fatal error in not accepting Jesus as the messiah.
I recognize that Daisy is also trying to make a political point and that it is somehow connected to what she sees as a double standard, but I was unable to figure out just what that double standard is. And this may be because it is late and I am tired. So I will stop here.
Richard, if you have comments on what I’ve written, would love to hear em.
Kristin, this statement, “I think it’s essentializing in a way that isn’t emancipatory, whatever it is.” – is quite brilliant.
As I said in my post, I think a great deal of what Kristin and I describe, has to do with “sacred blood” – certainly a Christian concept. But I’ve heard 3 fundies in 3 days reverentially state something like, “Jews/Israelis are related/kin to Our Lord” – and I really think this sentiment can’t be underestimated.
Kristin: I knew about the Holocaust and about the stereotypes that the Nazis associated with Jews, but I never heard anyone ever repeat them. I *did* hear Jews subjected to extremely essentializing idealization (largely these Christians thought they could facilitate the Armageddon that they sought to bring about through the state of Israel. Christians talking about how Israel holds a “special place” in their hearts. People like Sarah Palin who “love Israel.”). This is an insidious form of stereotyping, I think, but it isn’t the same as what has been delineated as traditional antisemitism.
I don’t think this is as understandable to people who don’t confront it every day. Thank you for the validation of my comments. One of the three fundies I mention above, said she “loved Israel” too…and then I came here and read your comment. Major irony!
I think she’s being defensive because of being trolled by Tfb, but I read her point basically as just:
The Christian Right – not AIPAC – is the political power in the US that keeps the blank check flowing to the Israeli military. That David Schraub’s post speaks of Zionism in the US – and never mentions the Christian Right constituency that constitutes that vast majority of American “Zionists” – seems like a glaring hole in his discussion. Then someone like Tfb shows up suggesting that it’s acceptable to collude with the Christian right on “pragmatic” grounds – something that should also be a huge problem for anyone engaged in what David calls “liberationist theory.”
So, basically… She thinks there needs to be more discussion about the relationship between Zionist American Jews and the Christian Right. Tfb does seem to be aligning herself with them on the grounds of something like, “It’s embarrassing and distasteful but political expedient.”
I think she’s pissed because she keeps being read as sympathetic with fundamentalist Christians even though she isn’t.
For me, it’s also important to note that the *only* people I have ever met who identified as Zionists were, in fact, fundamentalist Christians. All of the Jews I’ve ever known, in fact, ran in similar activist-y circles and identified as “anti-Zionist.”
chinonga – I’d like to hear more from you on this as well – as an American Jew with a fundamentalist Christian family-in-law. Out in the real world, I realize that people who have not grown up in (or at least very close to) insulated fundie communities don’t really…get it. Like, at all. Despite their (the Christian Right’s) persecution complex, they wield a lot – a *lot* – of political power in this country – and still do. They own all of our paramilitary/private military organizations (like Blackwater). I think they’re the biggest threat to demoocracy in this country that there is, hands down.
And I don’t think their support of Israel should be accepted as a “necessary – if embarrassing – evil.” Because it does come at the cost of the safety of the people of Israel and Palestine (They *are* trying to facilitate Armageddon, Left Behind series style, and most people in the region are expected to die in the process.).
I said a bit more on this on your other post (part 2), but I’d be interested in hearing more about your experiences with these people as well.
Daisy – Yeah, definitely. I think it’s… Well, in any case, I find that people who didn’t grow up in these kinds of circles and/or come into very intimate contact with it on a daily basis – have a difficult time grasping the stranglehold that the Christian Right has on American politics. And they end up thinking I sound paranoid about it, but well…
There’s a reason Obama has pledged to maintain the faith based initiatives program, even though it has served (primarily) as a front for funneling money to far-right evangelical organizations… He has to appease the Christian Right to some extent. I’d venture it’s also why he asked Rick Warren to deliver then invocation and why he issued some a dire warning to misbehaving “Muslim nations” in the world community. Sixty percent of this country’s citizens don’t believe in evolution, and that kinda begs the question, “What *else* do they believe/not believe in?”
Daisy, did I mention this yet in this conversation? Right after 9/11, I heard a Christian pastor give a prayer service. I thought it’d be fairly apolitical: “Let’s love and pray for each other blah blah blah…” But the pastor said, “Anyone gets in the way of the people of God, and it’s gonna be bloody.”
I walked out and later asked him to clarify – he was referring to Americans and Israelis. We’re the “Chosen People of God,” as the explanation goes. I explained very nicely then that he would never see me again.
Also, chinonga:
“The words we’re using don’t mean the same thing to us.”
Yeah, I’m definitely realizing that.
That David Schraub’s post speaks of Zionism in the US – and never mentions the Christian Right constituency that constitutes that vast majority of American “Zionists” – seems like a glaring hole in his discussion.
What I would say here, though, is that David is Jewish and approaches Zionism as a Jew. I can’t speak for him, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he sees Christian Zionism as both problematic and A PROBLEM, but basically tangential to Zionism as he understands it and relates to it. When he said he defines Zionism as basically the idea that it’s good that the Jewish state exists, a lot of people got really upset. It probably sounded like he was trying to obscure the violence that has been wreaked in the name of Zionism and Zionism as it has been deployed by the Israeli government. But in my own experience, a very large percentage of American Jews agree with David that having a Jewish state is a good thing, at least in theory, and identify as Zionist by that definition, including many who strongly oppose Israeli government policies.
I’m really, really, really not trying to open up the discussion about whether Zionism is justified — I think both sides were pretty well hashed out on that Feministe thread. I’m talking language and perspectives here, not conclusions and policies.
Christian Zionists certainly are the voting block and the power structure being appealed to with the U.S.‘s policy toward Israel. Jewish votes may matter in New York and Florida, and the electoral college may give us a little more heft, but quite frankly there just aren’t enough of us. And fiercely pro-Israel, no matter what, Jews give cover to the Christian Zionists.
But when most Jews think about Zionism, I think Christian Zionists are the furthest thing from their minds. One thing I think David asked for that I would agree with (if I read him right) is to ask people to engage with why some Jews support Zionism, which is the safety issue that Richard dealt with really well in the second post. It sounds like you know a lot of Jews who are involved with peace work and identify as anti-Zionist, so it’s probably a shock to you to realize there are a whole lot of other Jews who hear “anti-Zionist” and actually hear “anti-Jewish safety.” (And I apologize if I’m mischaracterizing — this is what I’m gathering from your comments.) But that’s what they hear. Sometimes it’s what I hear. I’m working on that. I really am.
In your first comment, you wrote: “My opposition to Zionism (and particularly to the Christian Zionism) that I have encountered so much more often – has nothing at all to do with Jews.” When I first read that, it actually really offended me. I hope you don’t get defensive, because I know you didn’t mean it an offensive way and after reading it three or four times, I think I actually misread it the first time. I now think that what you’re saying is that your opposition is not motivated by your feelings toward Jews. But when I first read it, I thought you were saying “the Jews have nothing to do with this. This is a Christian thing.” And that felt to me like you were just disappearing the Jews out of the discussion. I felt similarly on that Feministe exchange with Julie over the etymology of antisemitism. When you asked “why not just use bigotry?” I felt to me like you were trying to erase an entire history and perspective from the discussion. And I think it’s fair for David to say that no, the Jews need to be in the discussion, and not just the anti-Zionist Jews.
Not that we can send a representative, and even if we did, it wouldn’t do much good. I don’t know if you’ve heard the expression “One Jew, two opinions.” We are a contentious bunch, if I may indulge in one stereotype, but it’s also an aspect of Jewishness that I’m very proud of.
I bring these things up now not to put you on the defensive and certainly not to attack you, but since we seem to be communicating a bit better than before (on Feministe), just to point out some areas that got my spidey-senses tingling. Just some food for thought. Again, I’m talking language and perspective, not policy positions.
Personally, I’m not comfortable identifying as a Zionist because it’s become so associated with militarism, but I’m not comfortable calling myself anti-Zionist. I just can’t do it. Post-Zionist? Azionist? Non-Zionist? No, I’ll just keep writing comments that test the limits of the form.
Out in the real world, I realize that people who have not grown up in (or at least very close to) insulated fundie communities don’t really…get it.
I guess it depends on who you talk to. As long as I have been politically aware, maybe since middle school, I have been extremely frightened of the Christian Right and everyone in my family is, a little bit as Jews but really — almost entirely — as secularists. I think I had such a bad opinion of evangelicals that when I first met my in-laws I almost expected them to have horns. But they were (and are) very nice people on an individual level. I just find their politics abhorrent. I have a pretty intense anthropological interest in evangelical Christianity and the differences between different strains. It might be old hat to you but “Mine Eyes Have Seen the Glory” by Randall Balmer is a great on this and comes with just the right mix of clear-headedness and sympathy, as someone who grew up evangelical and now straddles the fence — not able to commit to it but still drawn to it. It’s funny because my husband and I in some ways are from the same American subculture — disaffected suburban punk rock youth — but in other ways, I feel like we’re in a cross-cultural relationship. And I actually say that primarily as someone who is very secular, but I think being Jewish gives an added complexity to it. To really muddy the waters, my in-laws have started attending a church where the pastor is a Jewish convert who still considers himself Jewish — a Messianic Jew — and tells them that he is what a “real Jew” looks like. Oh, and yes, he is a Christian Zionist.
Kristin, Just to follow up (quickly: I know I said in my other comment that I have work to do) on chingona’s comment on this statement by you:
I think chingona is right to point out that David is responding to Zionism as a Jew. I would go one step further and say that, while the point you make is important and necessary and correct if you want to talk politically about “following the money,” etc., I find the whole notion of Christian Zionist – at least as you are talking about it – to be an oxymoron. I don’t know who coined the term, but if it was the evangelicals, then that feels to me like good ol’ fashioned cultural appropriation and it needs to be challenged on those terms. This is an idea that needs to be unpacked a good deal more, since it’s not that I think one has to be Jewish to be Zionist (in the sense of supporting a Jewish state), but the idea that one supports Jewish statehood to the end of eliminating that state to facilitate the end times (if I have that correct) is antithetical to Zionism period. Again, I am not questioning the importance of dealing with evangelical Christian support for Israel and everything that implies, but to call that support Zionism and to ask someone like David, or me, or chingona for that matter, who is wrestling with questions of Zionism as a matter of identity, to try to incorporate a response to Christian Zionism, as if it were simply another flavor of Zionism-as-part-of-Jewish-identity is to ask us, and I am saying this very awkwardly because I am typing so fast, to turn the notion of Zionism itself into a contradiction in terms.
chingona and Richard: I’ll respond more later, but I’m running late for now.
chingona:
“In your first comment, you wrote: “My opposition to Zionism (and particularly to the Christian Zionism) that I have encountered so much more often – has nothing at all to do with Jews.” When I first read that, it actually really offended me. I hope you don’t get defensive, because I know you didn’t mean it an offensive way and after reading it three or four times, I think I actually misread it the first time. I now think that what you’re saying is that your opposition is not motivated by your feelings toward Jews. But when I first read it, I thought you were saying “the Jews have nothing to do with this. This is a Christian thing.””
You’re right – it was about how my feelings about Zionism are not motivated by bad feelings about Jews. I should’ve been more clear.
I think this is fair too:
“When you asked “why not just use bigotry?” I felt to me like you were trying to erase an entire history and perspective from the discussion.”
So, I probably should’ve said more about it. Julie had been explaining how racism as a construct doesn’t quite fit with antisemitism and isn’t all that descriptively helpful when it comes to talking about these things. My question was merely semantic, though I should’ve clarified there: “Well, the word bigotry doesn’t have the same intuitive meaning as racism necessarily, wrt assumptions that race is outwardly obvious… What about that?” I wasn’t disagreeing with the notion of “antisemitism” as a concept, just wondering about the claim that no other descriptive term “worked” that I saw cropping up there. And I was frustrated with that thread, which had attempted to open discussion about Arab women’s experiences of oppression, but well… That never got off the ground. So, I was being fairly terse.
Richard: I think it probably was Christian evangelicals who coined the term “Christian Zionists.” I have mostly seen it used in academic discourses about Dominionist Christians who identify as such. You’re right – it’s not “another flavor of Zionism.” I *do* think that it dominates or at least strongly influences the way in which Zionism is understood in general in this country, and while I can see why it would be unnecessary in a conversation only among Jews, well, if his aim is education… Anyway, what you’re saying makes sense, but it’s easy to read that omission (probably unfairly) as: “Well, that’s an embarrassing but politically necessary political alliance innit.”
In any case, though, agreed. It does seem like cultural appropriation. But it has also strongly influenced my views/opinions/understanding of “Zionism” as such – and probably those of many other Americans, given how dominant it is. It’s been rammed down my throat a few too many times: “Opposition to the policies of the state of Israel is opposition to God’s Chosen People, and anyway, the Jews are our brothers and sisters and have a special role in the End Times designated in the book of Revelation.” That’s basically how it goes.
Kristin:
Can you send me to sources/documentation of this? I would love to see it.
And I was frustrated with that thread, which had attempted to open discussion about Arab women’s experiences of oppression, but well… That never got off the ground.
I shared that frustration, which is one reason I didn’t go participate in that thread, especially after getting so caught up in the other one.
But I do think it speaks to why what seems like semantics actually matters. Statements like “How can we be anti-Semites when we’re Semites ourselves?” just raise hackles because a lot of people think that sounds ignorant and then they don’t listen to the rest of it. I don’t hold it personally against the women who wrote that — to have your very identity associated with bigotry and terrorism everywhere you turn would be an incredibly difficult experience, and I wish their story could have been heard better. I gather that Lauren isn’t Jewish (am I wrong?), but if she were, maybe she would have picked a different quote from the piece to start the discussion. (Which is not to say that people couldn’t have backed away from the keyboard, counted to 10 and re-engaged with it. They could have and maybe they should have. But certain phrases tend to set people off and make them question the motives of the person using them, and that definitely is one of them.)
As for Christian Zionism, do you think that really is the reason most Americans are supportive of Israel? It’s always seemed to me like it’s more general racism toward Arabs/Muslims, and a sense that Israel is similar to the United States as a country settled by pioneers, fighting a common enemy, etc. I tend to see Christsian Zionism as very influential in pulling the levers of power in the Republican Party and teaming up with AIPAC in lobbying, but not that relevant to the average person on the street’s view of Israel. In the (admittedly small) office where I work, I’m the only Jewish person and definitely by a very wide margin the most critical of Israeli policy, when these things come up. But if I were to start talking about Christian Zionism, I would be met with blank stares, and if I explained it to them, I think they would be appalled. I think they think of it as “What’s Israel to do? It’s not like you can reason with those people” or “Those people only understand force,” not as some vision of Chosen People and bringing about the Second Coming.
I’ve never slung the word “Jew” around so much as I have in these discussions. I always say that I’m Jewish, and often feel really uncomfortable when people are identified as “a Jew.” Like when Leiberman was on the 2000 ticket and people wrote that he was the first Jew to be nominated for vice president. It made me cringe every time I read it. I prefer Jewish because it’s one aspect of who I am or who anyone is, but saying someone is a Jew sounds like that’s all they are, and nothing more.
I’ve been using Jew because writing Jewish people over and over gets tiresome. Jew is shorter. But whenever someone says “Jew,” part of me hears it as an insult. (Did you eat? No, Jew.) And I think it’s interesting, for lack of a better word, that the very name of what we are can be an insult. You don’t need to reach for words like Heeb or Kike. Just say “Jew” in the right tone of voice, and it’s an insult.
This isn’t really addressed to anyone in particular, just a random thought.
Richard: I’m busy all day, but I’ll try to come up with some documentation tonight. I may not be entirely correct – it may have more to do with geographical region (In the South, Christian Zionism is *definitely* the reason for the support of Israel.). Anyway, yes, I’ll list some things later this evening.
chingona: In response to your question. I’ll say more tonight when I get home, but, well… I think the answer is complicated. I don’t think it’s all about anti-Arab racism because anti-Arab racism was not always nearly as virulent as it became after 9/11. I think it has a lot to do with a perceived similarity in the founding myths/histories. We have a pretty firmly entrenched sense of “civic religion,” and many Americans see this country as a kind of “promised land.” Conflations are made all over the place that link the two narratives.
I think it’s the so-called Christian Zionists who are most politically…influential in all of this. I’ll asy more about this when I get home.
I think it has a lot to do with a perceived similarity in the founding myths/histories. We have a pretty firmly entrenched sense of “civic religion,” and many Americans see this country as a kind of “promised land.” Conflations are made all over the place that link the two narratives.
This makes a lot of sense to me. In fact, in thinking about where I was on Israel and where I am, I’ve realized that I bought into a lot of founding myths about Israel in a way that I never, ever did about the United States.
Richard…you totally shouldn’t have linked over at feministe! Now I’m going to feel invited to participate!
My experience with fundies in particular is similar to Kristin’s, although I did hear some antisemitic comments from time to time. So I’ve also experienced what has been referred to as Christian Zionists (that term was used often in my childhood). So I suspect we have similar reasons for our suspicion of US involvement in Israel. [Note particularly, that I am not suspicious of Israel itself, just of US involvement in Israel.]
It’s something I consider deeply troubling and by definition antisemitic. The fundamental elements of the evangelical movement expect and desire that Jewish people die. They want massive apocalyptic levels of death. Now I don’t believe for a moment that such an event is “foretold” or that there is some prophecy being fulfilled. However, I believe that if a group of people with power believe in a prophecy badly enough they may create circumstances under which they make it come true.
This frightens me with respect to Israel and Palestine in particular because it feels to me as if the US is intentionally creating an explosive situation.
Chingona,
Yes I do think the fundies are more powerful than we typically think them to be. If you read Sharlet’s The Family you might change your mind about how much influence fundies have in American politics. That is one seriously disturbing expose.
But more importantly, I do think that even the less reprehensible (oops, did I say…why yes I did!) strains of Christianity have a similar refrain. Perhaps they don’t openly pray for the Armageddon like the fundies do (or have a book that describes it in detail!), but there is this vague intuition that Israel must exist for the Second Coming.
Certainly, I don’t think that’s the only reason. For example my grandfather supported the creation of Israel (and basically every action Israel might possibly take) because of his experiences. He was a WWII vet that helped to liberate a concentration camp and never fully recovered from the experience (PTSD that continued until his death sadly). In his opinion, nothing the world could ever do would make up for what we (as a world community) allowed to happen.
While I’m not sure all Americans would completely agree with my grandfather, I do think there is some conscious or unconscious feeling of guilt that we didn’t act sooner and that we turned away those refugees that came to us in search of a safe haven. If that makes sense.
Of course that may also be regional or generational. Given yours and Richard’s experiences as a child it seems like some people thought it was perfectly acceptable to be assholes.
Also, I’ve also always been uncomfortable using the word “Jew” to define someone…thank you for finally helping me clarify part of why. (The other part is that I’ve heard it used as an insult, so I never wanted the word to come out of my mouth the same way it came out of some asshat’s mouth.)
Over at Daisy’s, I referred to a fight I had with my father-in-law. Let me share what he actually said. Perhaps it will help explain why I think Christian Zionism is actively hostile to Jewish interests.
He said the reason all this “strife” is going on is because back in the day, when God gave the land to the Israelites, he told them to kill everyone living there. And they disobeyed him and intermarried with the people living in the land. They were punished with the Diaspora and all that entailed — every humiliation and every torture, every pogrom, every person burned at the stake, up to and including the Holocaust — was part of God’s punishment of the Jews for disobeying his order to commit genocide some 3,000 years ago. Now, the Jews have reestablished Israel, which is good, but they still haven’t fully complied with God’s will. They have not occupied the historic boundaries of Israel described in surveyor’s detail in the Bible, and they have not completely removed the Canaanites (the Palestinians) from the land. Until they do so, they will continue to suffer. Once they comply with God’s will, they will all see the light and accept the love of Jesus.
For disputing this — not, at first, from a Jewish perspective, but from the perspective of “I can’t believe I’m sitting at a table with someone advocating genocide” — I was told that I was spitting in God’s face and being inconsistent with my beliefs. (Apparently he’s under the mistaken belief that most Jews see the Bible as the literal word of God. I’m not especially religious as it is, and Reform and even Conservative aren’t exactly Biblical literalists.) I tried a lot of different tactics. If the Bible is so clear, why do the ultra-Orthodox oppose Zionism? What about the Christian Palestinians? He wasn’t having any of it. His Christian Jewish pastor — the “real Jew, circumsized in the spirit not in the flesh” — told him so and he read it in the Bible. It’s not that he wants people to suffer or enjoys it. But these things are prophesied and WILL come to pass.
Cherry on top: This was the very last hour of our weeklong Christmas visit. We had a 14-hour drive home, so lots and lots of time to talk about it and think about it amongst ourselves. In my argument, I was focused on the implications of what he said for the Palestinians. On the drive home, I realized that what he was saying about the Jews was pretty damn bad, too. God wants children to be blown up on buses and in cafes to goad the Israelis into fulfilling his divine will. And then I had a thought: How many people in the Bush administration think exactly like my father-in-law does?
Chingona, let me also suggest Harold Bloom’s THE AMERICAN RELIGION, kind of scholarly but gives you an excellent idea about the way Evangelical Christianity has kinda merged with the whole new-age Gnosticism vibe… in his opinion it has produced a new “American religion” – dunno if I agree with that, but he’s so much fun to read!
Read it, keeping the figure of Rick Warren (and ilk) in mind… he wrote it long before Warren was a household name, yet seemed to anticipate his entry onto the world stage.
Kristin (The J One):
Welcome!
Apologies for disappearing from the conversation. I’ve just started teaching my own university classes for the first time… Am a little overwhelemed.
But… So, two books:
Michelle Goldberg’s Kingdom Coming is about the rise of Christian nationalism in the US and mentions Christian “Zionism” extensively.
Also, Chris Hedges wrote a book called Christian Fascists. I don’t think it’s as good, but it also documents some of these things.
Wendy Brown (a political theorist) published a couple of articles over the past few years in which she talks about the relationship of the Christian Right to American politics (and specifically foreign policy). She also touches on this in her book, Regulating Aversion: Tolerance in the Age of Identify and Empire.
I’ll try to come up with a couple of other things over the next few days. It’s just… My time on the internets is probably going to be a bit limited.
By the way, I’ll post other sources of documentation as I remember them. Dominionist Christianity is not a topic that I research academically, in general, because it’s a little too depressing – and close to home.
The book on Blackwater is also fairly informative as I recall. That’s Jeremy Scahill’s Blackwater: The World’s Most Powerful Mercenary Army.
This website has a number of links and an entire section on Christian Zionism:
http://www.theocracywatch.org/
They give some basics on Christian Zionism and also have a list of links:
http://www.theocracywatch.org/christian_zionism.htm
Israel
Establishment of the State of Israel was seen by Christian Zionists as fulfillment of God’s Covenant with Abraham. In contrast, it was seen by most Jewish Zionists as a place where Jews would be safe. To read about the establishment of Israel, click here.
The early secular government of Israel agreed, for practical reasons, to leave the ancient Jewish lands of Samaria and Judea out of its borders. To read more about Israel’s pre-1967 borders, click here.
After the War of 1967, which Israel won in just six days, Israel occupied the ancient Jewish lands of Samaria and Judea in the West Bank along with the Gaza Strip and the Sinai Desert to the South, the Golan Heights in the North. and all of the city of Jerusalem. That war was seen by Christian Zionists and some ultra-orthodox Jews as a sign that God was further fulfilling His promise to Abraham. To read more about the War of 1967, click here.
To read a chronology of settlement growth, click here.
Likud And Falwell
Government support of settlement building accelerated dramatically in 1977 when Menachem Begin became Prime Minister. Begin’s ultranationalist notions had made him a figure on the fringe for the first three decades of Israel’s existence, but his Likud Party had finally come to power.
Ironically, Begin won a Nobel Peace Prize in 1978, along with President Anwar Sadat of Egypt, for signing the Camp David Accords. Thanks to skillfully managed negotiations on the part of U.S. President Jimmy Carter, Begin agreed to return the Sinai desert to Egypt, but refused to discuss the Jewish settlements in the West Bank and Gaza. And this is where our story begins — the same year that the Camp David Accords were signed.
That year, 1978, Begin invited The Reverend Jerry Falwell for his first official visit to Israel, and the following year, 1979, his government gave Falwell a gift — a Lear Jet.
Begin’s timing was perfect. He began working seriously with Christian Zionists at the precise moment that Christian fundamentalists in America were discovering their political voice.
The same year that Falwell received his Lear Jet, 1979, he formed the Moral Majority, an organization that changed the political landscape in the United States. What was Falwell’s interest in Israel? He was a Dispensationalist. Dispensationalism is a system of theology that believes the Jews must return to Israel as part of God’s plan for Christ to return. To read more about the history of Dispensationalism, click here.
An Expanded Israel
In order to fulfill Biblical prophecy, Dispensationalists have been working hard to ensure that the world’s Jews return to Israel and occupy all of Palestine. To facilitate that process, Dispensationalists have been leading groups of pilgrims to Israel since Falwell’s first visit in order to win financial and political support for the Jewish settlements in the West Bank and Gaza Strip.
The late Grace Halsell, author of Prophecy and Politics, participated in two Falwell-led pilgrimages to Israel in 1983 and 1985, and quotes a fellow Christian pilgrim on the tour:
“The Jews must own all of the land promised by God before Christ can return. The Arabs have to leave this land because this land belongs only to the Jews. God gave all of this land to the Jews.” (p.87)
The late Ed MacAteer, considered to be the godfather of the Religious Right, talked about his expansionist dreams for Israel in an interview on CBS’ 60 Minutes: Zion’s Christian Soldiers.
“I believe that we are seeing prophecy unfold so rapidly and dramatically and wonderfully and, without exaggerating, makes me breathless. Every grain of sand between the Dead Sea, the Jordan River and the Mediterranean Sea belongs to the Jew.” When asked if that includes the West Bank and Gaza, his answer was “Every bit of it.”
This, in particular, in response to your specific question:
Influencing Washington
Akiva Eldar, journalist for the Israeli newspaper Ha’aretz, claims that Christian Zionists are pouring money into Israel. “But that’s not the only way they are supporting Israeli settlement of the West Bank.”
The most important thing is that they have so much influence in Washington, that they are so influential in the White House and in Congress. (Bill Moyer’s NOW, June 6, 2003.)
Jerry Falwell told 60 Minutes:
There are 70 million of us. And if there’s one thing that brings us together quickly it’s whenever we begin to detect our government becoming a little anti-Israel.
Pastor John Hagee’s Cornerstone Church raised $1 million dollars in 1977. When asked if he realized that support of Likud’s policies and the increase in Jewish settlements was at cross-purposes with US policy, Hagee answered:
I am a Bible scholar and a theologian, and from my perspective the law of God transcends the laws of the United States government and the US State Department.
The Village Voice, May 18, 2004, documented that National Security Council Near East and North African Affairs director for President George W. Bush, Elliott Abrams, actually met with the Apostolic Congress, a dispensationalist organization, to discuss their theological concerns. Three weeks after that meeting President Bush reversed long-standing U.S. policy, endorsing Israeli sovereignty over parts of the West Bank in exchange for Israel’s disengagement from the Gaza Strip.
From Stephen Zunes, Foreign Policy In Focus, June, 2004:
It appears, then, that right-wing Christian Zionists are, at this point, more significant in the formulation of U.S. policy toward Israel than are Jewish Zionists, as illustrated by three recent incidents.
* After the Bush administration’s initial condemnation of the attempted assassination of militant Palestinian Islamist Abdel Aziz Rantisi in June 2003, the Christian Right mobilized its constituents to send thousands of e-mails to the White House protesting the criticism. A key element in these e-mails was the threat that if such pressure continued to be placed upon Israel, the Christian Right would stay home on Election Day. Within 24 hours, there was a notable change in tone by the president. Indeed, when Rantisi fell victim to a successful Israeli assassination in April 2004, the administration-as it did with the assassination of Hamas leader Sheik Ahmed Yassin the previous month-largely defended the Israeli action.
* When the Bush administration insisted that Israel stop its April 2002 military offensive in the West Bank, the White House received over 100,000 e-mails from Christian conservatives in protest of its criticism. Almost immediately, President Bush came to Israel’s defense. Over the objections of the State Department, the Republican-led Congress adopted resolutions supporting Israel’s actions and blaming the violence exclusively on the Palestinians.
* When President Bush announced his support for the Road Map for Middle East peace, the White House received more than 50,000 postcards over the next two weeks from Christian conservatives opposing any plan that called for the establishment of a Palestinian state. The administration quickly backpedaled, and the once-highly touted Road Map essentially died.
Forgive my jumping in at this point in the conversation (especially as it seems to have moved on), but I feel impelled to interject (in the most pedantic manner possible). I would like to offer some clarification about the term “Zionist.” It seems that the discourse about Israel/Palestine is impeded by confusion that surrounds this label, which is understandably contested. Real communication is facilitated, however, by avoiding having one’s language colonized by the rhetorical artifices of one interest group or another.
Obviously there is not one “Zionism” but a bevy of contending Zionisms. Beyond these distinct ideologies, “Zionism” has been appropriated colloquially as an abstraction (for many Israelis “Zionist” signifies all things good and virtuous, for many Arabs it connotes all things wicked and oppressive). In this respect the term has been rendered so multivalent and vague as to be nearly sapped of all utility. Is there any residual content that is useful for political discourse? “One form” through which all Zionisms may be indicated?
David Schraub seems to have got it nearly right– to merit being called “Zionism” an ideology or conceptual position must conform to one criterion: Zionism entails a belief in the right of a Jewish state to exist. This basic stance unites all the various flavors of Zionists we could identify: from David Ben Gurion to Sarah Palin to the members of Kahane Chai. I would include myself among this very expansive group.
Two things should be evident if one contemplates this understanding of Zionism:
1)The belief in the right of a Jewish state to exist leaves vast room for disagreement among Zionists. Those of us who believe that a Jewish state rightfully exists within the pre-1967 borders of Israel are as far apart from those in Kahane Chai (who believe in a Greater Israel that conforms to the boundaries of the kingdom of David and Solomon) as the moon is from the stars.
2)The social significance of Zionism shifted profoundly in the crossing of the historical threshold of 1948. Prior to that date Zionism was an abstract ideal the parameters of which were limited only by the imagination. Once a Jewish state actually existed, however, any commitment to its right to exist entailed the acceptance of certain established realities. Late 19th and early 20th century Zionists would have been happy to found Zion in Argentina or Uganda, which would have been fine by me. The fact that Zion is now in Israel has resulted in real tragedy (those alternate Zions may have as well, we’ll never know), but that has not shaken my commitment to Zionism in principle. That said, my being a Zionist does not imply anything about my opinion about Israeli state policy, any more than my averring that America has a right to exist can be used to infer whether I voted for Barack Obama or John McCain.
The shift in the social significance of Zionism after 1948 has contributed to confusion it causes in today’s political discourse. When Israelis speak of “Zionism” in the abstract today, it means something like “the spirit of ’76″ did to late 18th and early 19th century Americans: the abstract personal and political virtues embodied in the founding struggle of their Republic. Of course, every Israeli politician wants his or her public persona and policy decisions to be perceived as “Zionist.” But this does not argue for the wisdom of those of us outside of Israel who would like to comment on Israeli politics associating “Zionism” with the specific policies of Israel’s government. To do so is comparable to capitulating to Sarah Palin’s claims to speak for “real America.” Any outsider criticizing U.S. policy wielding Palin’s definition of “real America” would alienate both those who agreed with her (who would not want to hear the U.S. criticized) and those who did not (who would be offended at being excluded from “real America”). In the same way, critiquing the invasion of Gaza (for example) as a “Zionist” policy offends both those Israelis who support the policy and those (admittedly a minority, if poll numbers are to be believed) who do not, for whom Zionism is an unequivocal good.
As for whether anti-Zionism is antisemitism, I would assert that it is. Whether or not any nation has the “right” to exist is obviously a philosophically complex issue, and even if one stipulated that nations have a right to exist, the unique constitution of Israel as a “Jewish state” raises ethical quandaries. All of these concerns are eclipsed for me, however, by the practical reality of the Holocaust and its historical implications. For better or worse, we live in a global system constituted of sovereign nation-states. For all the recent talk of an approaching “postnational world,” events in places like Bosnia, Kosovo, Chechnya, Iraq, and East Timor demonstrate that the nation-state remains the most robust and important entity in our geopolitical community. One only has to compare the plight of the Czechs or the Serbs to that of the Tibetans or the Kurds to understand the profound significance of national sovereignty to the global standing and communal prospects of any given people. A world in which Israel existed would not have been a world in which the Holocaust could have occurred, and the continued existence of Israel is the only sure safeguard against the recurrence of a Jewish genocide. This is the context in which one must understand the implications of anti-Zionism. Any opposition to the right of Israel to exist is an existential threat, not merely to Israel itself, but to the Jewish people as a body and to Judaism itself in all its various manifestations. Ergo anti-Zionism = antisemitism.
I’m sorry if these last comments re-crossed ground that you have already covered in other threads of this conversation. Thanks, Rich for these very vivid and thought-provoking posts.
Richard–
I just read your original post, and some of the commentary, and I am aghast! I was 2 years behind you in high school and never imagined that the people in my community would be so cruel. Ignorant, sure – what were there, maybe half a dozen Jewish students and an equal number of teachers in our high school (if that) – but the taunts and indignities that you suffered were examples of nothing less than hate. And in children that hate comes from their parents and community, because unless they are taught it, children know nothing about antisemitism. It is to Joan’s credit that she supported you against her father’s Holocaust denial(and Joan I think turned out remarkably well, considering her father, it seems), but I fear she was an exception.
Mr. Giglio was another story; he had been a seminarian and almost went into the RC priesthood, so I suspect he was coming from a different, yet also misguided direction. I knew nothing of the pennies, though I do recall antisemitic comments made in passing to other non-Jews. Growing up Armenian, we always felt a connection to the Jewish people, as we were both the victims of genocide, but we are also fiercely Christian, and I will admit to having encountered some antisemitic attitudes amongst the Armenians I know. But in my family, prejudice and intolerance were, frankly, not tolerated. Even hatred of Turks (pretty rampant among the Armenians) was not acceptable to my parents. But getting back to your experiences, those kids could not claim ignorance, because at least starting in Junior High, we were taught about the Holocaust, we read the diary of Anne Frank in Junior high school, we discussed the major religions of the world, and learned the history of Israel. I know I did not have any obviously antisemitic teachers, though I can imagine there were a few. But that doesn’t account for the type of treatment you received. Admittedly, part of it was standard youth intolerance of “difference” – I’m sure if there were Muslim students, or sikhs, or even fundamentalist christian students who dressed or acted differently from “everyone else” they would have been singled out. But that is different from spray painting antisemitic slogans in a library, the violence and desecration. I do know the one or two African American students in our school also received substantial abuse, and I always thought it was ridiculous that the way the school districts were laid out; African-american students who lived 2 blocks from our school had to go almost 2 miles to another school in our district. I have to face the fact that I group up in a pretty racist, antisemitic neighborhood, and I am disgusted with myself that I was mostly unaware of how badly you were treated. I hope that the situation is better for Jewish (and other minority) children today, but I am not sure. I live in a similarly white/Catholic area to where I grew up, and some attitudes are similar, though thankfully we have a much more diverse population than our old neighborhood.
I will make my way through all the commentary here, it is very interesting! But I did want to reach across the years and apologize for my own obliviousness to what was going on, and, if I ever, in my ignorance or misunderstanding, hurt or offended you, I offer my sincerest apologies. Personally, I remember you as a smart and interesting guy who mysteriously showed up during my sophomore year.
Well, perhaps, but I never would have found the post otherwise. I stumbled upon it looking for her! But you are right, just using her first name is probably more appropriate. And you can edit this comment out if you like, too!
I am very glad you are doing well and I am also glad to hear Floral Park is different now (I know it is more ethnically diverse). Sometimes the “good old days” were definitely not so good! I look forward, when I have some time, to looking at all these posts and responses to see where my views fit into the spectrum.
All the best,
John
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