As someone who personally experienced antisemitism growing up in a small suburban US town, I try hard not to let fear and anger determine who I am or negatively shape my outlook. Instead, I have tried to channel those painful memories into positive actions. My embrace of Jewish life is certainly informed by that effort, as is the value of finding common ground with all people, to replace the hatred directed at me as a Jew with an attempt to understand and see the tzelem Elokim, the image of God, in others, especially people who are different from me in culture, religion, worldview. I’ve always recoiled from the words in the Haggadah, “Not just one tried to destroy us, but in every generation they arise to destroy us,” as if a great mythical, eternal beast lurks in the shadows–even as I know that this verse resonates in a very real and painful way with survivors of the Shoah and their descendants.
For many years, it was easy not to think too much about antisemitism. Sure, it was always present, always a problem, “the eternal hatred” of “the eternal people.” But the problem seemed to be mostly “over there”: in Europe, in Israel / the Middle East, among fringe groups out in the “sticks” watched by the ADL and the Southern Poverty Law Center. In the United States, it felt like we had made real progress. In 1977, when actual home-grown Nazis marched on Skokie, a town where 1 in 6 residents was a Holocaust survivor, only 20 marchers showed up and they were heckled and jeered away by a far larger crowd of Jews and supporters. The haters were pathetically small and outnumbered, and it was possible to imagine that real progress was happening.
For the past several years, however, starting with Charlottesville and the murders in Pittsburgh, Poway and Jersey City, “there” has come increasingly, menacingly closer to “here.” Bots trafficking a frog as an antisemitic symbol along with triple parentheses were “memes” in the 2016 election. Nazi flags, some with actual swastikas, others with vaccine needles, are on display and waved at public events. Jewish students on campus, long a target for various groups including those against Israel, have expressed the sense of being increasingly under attack.
Recent news has seemed to bring a disturbing uptick in stories of antisemitism:
A person was caught on video starting a fire at the Yeshiva of Flatbush.
A speaker at a school board meeting near Phoenix launches into antisemitic conspiracies.
A member of a Texas school board is recorded on a conversation insisting that a class that brings up the Holocaust needs to raise “opposing views.”
A synagogue in Austin suffered an arson attack outside its doors, after a neo-Nazi group hung a banner from an overpass nearby that read “Vax the Jews.”
A Jewish fraternity at George Washington University was vandalized, its replica Torah, used in its pledging ceremony, desecrated.
At the same time, American Jews are studying antisemitism in more and new ways. There are a growing number of conferences and think tanks dedicated to countering antisemitism in various manifestations. The American Jewish Committee released its 2021 State of Antisemitism Report, finding that 90% of US Jews think that antisemitism is “somewhat” of a problem or “very serious.” Dara Horn, author of the provocatively titled People Love Dead Jews, has a companion podcast on Tablet Magazine also provocatively titled Adventures with Dead Jews. Recognizing the grave threat to Jews on the Continent, the European Union adopted a new 10-year strategy to combat antisemitism and foster Jewish life.
Starting this Sunday, the ADL is presenting a three-day online conference, featuring several star presenters including VP Kamala Harris, Israel’s alternate PM Yair Lapid, basketball star Sue Bird, and more. The conference also includes a special track for high school students and educators.
As we prepare to commemorate Kristallnacht next week, many of us may be feeling that our distance from this event feels shorter than it has in years.