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Communities Fight Back Against Antisemitism

By Rich Tenorio

An antisemitic letter is left in the lobby of a college Hillel. A middle school student makes a threat against Jewish classmates that raises fears of violence. Orthodox Jews are targeted for antisemitic abuse because of the way they dress. These are all incidents that have happened to Jewish communities in New England in recent years. Members of the communities affected discussed how they responded, which can go beyond only calling out antisemitism.

In 2022, the Boston neighborhood of Brighton engaged in a community-wide debate over whether to change zoning laws to allow local Orthodox Jews to create a synagogue. There was an incident in which graffiti apparently depicted a Hasidic man smoking a dollar bill, accompanied by a potentially antisemitic statement, according to Ariella Hellman, director of government affairs for the Orthodox organization Agudah Israel New England. Hellman noted that this was especially alarming to community members given the summer 2021 attack on local rabbi Shlomo Noginski, who was repeatedly stabbed outside the neighborhood synagogue Shaloh House.

In March 2023, Agudah Israel of America was represented at a Washington, D.C., conference between Jewish community members and elected officials. Hellman was pleased by the concern shown by elected officials.

She also praised the response to the Brighton graffiti from the City of Boston, which included the expedited acquisition of equipment to remove the hateful image and words.

“It meant a lot to us,” Hellman said.

During the first half of 2023, multiple municipalities in Massachusetts faced antisemitic incidents and took decisive steps to respond to them.

In April, a swastika was found in Natick, close to a local commuter rail station and a Chabad house. As The Boston Globe reported, the hateful imagery was addressed in a creative way: A non-Jewish woman from the area showed her support by using sidewalk chalk to cover the Nazi symbol with an image of a flower and an anti-hate message. Meanwhile, the local Chabad rabbi, Levi Fogelman, organized a protest march that drew Jewish and non-Jewish attendees.

In June, during Pride Month, Congregation Agudath Achim in Taunton was defaced with antisemitic, anti-LGBTQIA+ and anti-Black graffiti, as the Taunton Daily Gazette reported. Because the synagogue has security camera equipment, the vandalism was captured on video, although the perpetrator remains unidentified. The synagogue took concrete steps to address the incident: Both the local police and the Anti-Defamation League were alerted, while an email about the incident was sent to the congregation. The Taunton Gazette article cited two board members stating that this was the first vandalism of Agudath Achim they could remember in their four decades of involvement with the synagogue.

In 2019, when a student in Great Barrington allegedly threatened Jewish classmates, fears were raised of violence toward the latter, according to Rabbi Neil P.G. Hirsch, spiritual leader of the Hevreh of Southern Berkshire.

“The gun violence couldn’t be actualized, but we realized it still had been traumatic to young people, Jewish kids of the school, many of whom are part of my congregation,” Hirsch said.

Hirsch and fellow rabbi Jodie Gordon held a series of conversations for students and parents about what happens when young people encounter antisemitism. Hirsch also reached out to the school district superintendent, the county district attorney’s office and community organizations, including the local Jewish federation. He found a way to help the Jewish students process their experiences. They traveled to Boston, where they participated in a healing session at Mayyim Hayyim and heard a talk on the history of antisemitism from Jeremy Burton, executive director of the Jewish Community Relations Council of Greater Boston. Hirsch reported no major incidents of hate in the Berkshires since then.

In the fall of 2022, an antisemitic letter was anonymously dropped off in the lobby of a Hillel in Providence, R.I., that is affiliated with both Brown University and the Rhode Island School of Design (RISD).

“In the end, it was discovered that it had not been written by a student,” said Rabbi Josh Bolton, the executive director of the Brown RISD Hillel. “The university, the university police, the Providence police, everyone worked very, very fast, with a real sense of mission…We just felt, all around, very, very supported.”

He stressed the importance of continuing to offer vibrant weekly programming that draws not only Jewish students but also non-Jews on campus.

“We really want to be a place where Jewish students feel proud and excited to bring non-Jewish roommates,” Bolton said. “We don’t want to be a parochial club, but one of the great centers of student life that reflects what is best in Brown and RISD. We want Hillel and Jewishness to be seen as one of the thick threads around the fabric of the university, a source of meaning for students who are Jews and non-Jews.”

Sources indicated that fighting antisemitism is a complex process.

On campus, Bolton said, “I don’t want Jewish leaders to feel they have to be reactive to every perspective, every incident that strikes them as somehow distasteful. I want it to be about the fact that our Jewish community, including student leadership, goes beyond the cycle of reactivity.”

He noted, “Brown and RISD are not excluded from the national trend” of antisemitism on campus. “There are incidents.” Yet, he added, “I don’t think those incidents in their own right constitute the actual narrative of the Jewish story here. I think it is one of great resilience, flourishing and vitality.”

Hellman, of Agudah, said, “You have to be very proactive about it. We meet often with Precinct 14 of the local police department. Because we’re proactive about the relationship, when these things come up, we can rely on our government partners to support us.

“Of course, calling it out is important. But the Orthodox community is a little more quiet. In calling it out, we don’t want to be even more attractive to the haters, not give them any more air. We try to keep it as quiet as possible but address the issue. The local police department has increased patrols. The mayor’s office got the graffiti cleaned up. It meant something to our community. Our government partners have our backs.”

Rich Tenorio covers antisemitism news for JewishBoston.com. His work has appeared in international, national, regional and local media outlets. He is a graduate of Harvard College and the Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism. He is also a cartoonist. Email him at richt@cjp.org.

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Rabbi to Run ADL New England

By Rich Tenorio

After 12 years running Harvard University Hillel, Rabbi Jonah Steinberg has exchanged Cambridge for Boston, where he is now the New England regional director for the Anti-Defamation League.

Asked about his priorities in the new position, Steinberg said, “I’m really encouraged to see young people connecting with the more than century-long work of the ADL and continuing to do that in such constructive, uplifting ways.” And, he said, “Building partnerships, allyships with organizations in our Jewish community and between organizations in our Jewish community and neighbors in New England are priorities. It’s important to make connections in this quiet time.”

Steinberg knows that things have often been anything but quiet lately.

He cited the ADL’s “Hate in the Bay State” report, which tracked a 41% rise in antisemitic incidents in Massachusetts between 2021 and 2022, from 108 such incidents to 152. The latter number was sixth nationwide. He noted a June 16, 2023, incident in which the sole synagogue in Taunton—Congregation Agudath Achim, a progressive congregation that displays a Pride flag on its building—was defaced with a swastika and antisemitic, anti-Black and anti-LGBTQIA+ graffiti.

“It underscores how vital the work of the ADL is, how timely, how necessary,” Steinberg said. “Of course, I am concerned. All are concerned about the rise of antisemitism and other forms of hate that we see.”

Steinberg joined ADL New England shortly after the launch of CJP’s “Face Jewish Hate” initiative at TD Garden on May 15, 2023. He is ready to assist in the fight against antisemitism in the Boston area and nationwide, including through two initiatives announced in the first half of 2023: CJP’s 5-point plan and the White House national strategy.

Asked about identifying perpetrators of hate crimes and bringing them to justice, Steinberg noted the work of the ADL Center on Extremism, headquartered in New York.

“In some instances, we can be quite specific on who is behind an incident,” he said, adding that some perpetrators are “proud to leave a signature; in other instances, we can’t be sure unless and until law enforcement concludes an investigation and comes to a clear identification as to a perpetrator. But, in all instances, these actors, whether targeting people directly—most concerning of all—or targeting places in which people gather, are not only targeting the individuals themselves or those particular spaces, but our entire community.”

Steinberg comes to the ADL from a diverse background. His appointment is groundbreaking, as he is the first rabbi in his position. (He noted that he is not the first rabbi to join the ADL, mentioning fellow spiritual leader Ron Fish.) Like his predecessor as New England division head, Robert Trestan, Steinberg was born in Canada. As a teenager, Steinberg also lived in Vienna, where his father headed the regional office of the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee during the Cold War.

“Of course, in those years, that was as far east as you could get and still be in a Western capital,” Steinberg recalled. “It was the center of operations for what was then Yugoslavia, Czechoslovakia, Hungary, Romania, a transit point for Soviet Jews, Iranian Jews, Persian Jews out of those countries.”

He said that in those days, Austria contained “a deeply antisemitic culture, a culture where antisemitism was deeply enmeshed,” to the point where its schoolchildren used the term “full Jew” as “an insult to one another, not so much me, my sister or members of my family. I heard it as an insult among Austrians. They never did the collective national soul-searching.”

Steinberg went on to become a rabbi, as well as a faculty member at multiple universities. He eventually headed Harvard Hillel for more than a decade—an experience that’s given him valuable perspective in his new job for dealing with antisemitism and anti-Zionism on campus.

“I would say, after 12 years on campus, I could see a unique focus on Israel,” he said. “It is really unlike the treatment of any other national, ethnic or religious community on college campuses. I think that former Harvard president Larry Summers was very right in calling it antisemitism in effect, if not in intent.”

In his new position, Steinberg said, “it’s important to us to work with deans and [diversity, equity and inclusion] offices to make sure we tackle antisemitism … along with tackling other forms of hate that manifest on campus.”

Steinberg is now ready to apply his lessons from Harvard to his new work in Boston and New England.

“I had one dozen wonderful years with the university community,” Steinberg said of his time in Cambridge, “and I hope now to be working with our entire community. I’m not leaving college behind or the university behind in the work of the ADL. This was the right call at the right time.”

Rich Tenorio covers antisemitism news for JewishBoston.com. His work has appeared in international, national, regional and local media outlets. He is a graduate of Harvard College and the Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism. He is also a cartoonist. Email him at richt@cjp.org.

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NBC Boston Covers Jewish Hate

On Wednesday, July 12, NBC Boston interviewed Chanie Krinsky of Chabad Jewish Center in Needham and CJP’s Sarah Abramson about what has become a horrifying trend.

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When Antisemitism and Anti-LGBTQIA+ Hate Converge

By Rich Tenorio 

(Photo: Viktor Makhnov/iStock)

Pride Month is a time to both mark the progress we have made in LGBTQIA+ rights and recommit to continuing the fight. The attacks against LGBTQIA+ people in legislatures and communities across the country, alongside rising antisemitism, remind us of the work ahead. For LGBTQIA+ Jews, the intersection of anti-LGBTQIA+ hate and antisemitism heightens fear and concern. 

“There is absolutely a connection between antisemitism and anti-LGBTQIA+ hate,” Jay Smith, chief communications officer of the national Jewish LGBTQIA+ advocacy group Keshet, wrote in an email. “We see similar tropes and conspiracy theories around power, grooming and predators. Currently, we see that the same groups protesting drag shows and Pride events are those with white supremacist and antisemitic views.” 

Last year, there were over 140 anti-LGBTQIA+ protests at drag events, with some protests also featuring antisemitic propaganda and signs, according to “Antisemitism & Anti-LGBTQ+ Hate Converge in Extremist and Conspiratorial Beliefs,” a January 2023 release from the Center on Extremism at the Anti-Defamation League that Smith referenced. 

Gabriella Spitzer, a queer Jew who spoke at a Pride Shabbat at their hometown synagogue, Temple Israel of Sharon, voiced concern about queerphobia in Jamaica Plain, including vandalism at a local church and protests outside a drag story hour. 

“The response to these incidents has been strong and interfaith, and I really appreciate some of the leadership of some of the local queer Christian clergy in speaking up against both anti-queer hatred and antisemitism,” said Spitzer, the author of a new Haggadah released this year, “Haggadah Min HaMeitzar: A Seder Journey to Liberation,” which they describe as traditional, queer and environmental. 

“I’m very aware of the rise in Christian nationalism and white power and general fascist tendencies in this country,” Spitzer said. “And, more broadly, I am aware that whether the focus of the moment is queer folks or trans folks or Jews, it all comes from the same root of hatred and white supremacy and Christian supremacy.” 

They cited a historical precedent—Magnus Hirschfeld, a Jewish German sexologist whose books were burned by the Nazis. Hirschfeld was included in an anti-trans section of a manifesto written by the perpetrator of a mass shooting at a Buffalo supermarket in May 2022

“I wish [Hirschfeld] was a story I learned in Jewish day school, not as an adult,” Spitzer said. “But it is a very important story to me, and in thinking about how fragile progress can be, how much, how far back the Nazis could put the world…only in the last couple decades are we back to where Magnus Hirschfeld was 100 years ago. And I think it’s an important point in thinking about how these kinds of hatreds are connected, and have been, and there’s nothing new about that connection. It’s old, and deeply felt in a lot of places.” 

Most individuals interviewed for this article expressed particular concern about a right-wing convergence of anti-LGBTQIA+ hate and antisemitism—among white supremacists in particular. In addition, the ADL release from January cited multiple reports of such convergence. 

“Hate groups view both Jews and LGBTQ+ people as a threat to Christian supremacy,” Smith said. “For centuries, antisemites have propagated conspiracy beliefs that Jews are undermining society and responsible for any unwanted changes in attitudes or social structures. Today, those lies are being told about LGBTQ+ people as well. These beliefs are extreme and dangerous, and the threats we face are real. As LGBTQ+ Jews, our lives and communities are at increased risk for violence.” 

One interviewee, Southern Connecticut State University English professor Corinne Blackmer, noted a convergence in homophobia and antisemitism on the left. Blackmer, a self-described Jewish lesbian feminist, experienced it personally in 2009, during the Gaza War between Israel and Hamas. She reported that her office door was vandalized with antisemitic, homophobic and anti-Zionist graffiti. 

“I’m not scared of my identity,” Blackmer said. “I put it on my office door. Really hateful comments were made.” 

According to Blackmer, when she was about to call the campus police, she found a threatening homophobic and anti-Zionist voice message. She followed through on notifying the campus police, who called in the New Haven police as a backup. The local media covered the story—albeit not in the way she had hoped. 

“[They] were perfectly willing to talk about this as an anti-gay attack, but very reluctant to talk about the anti-Zionism,” Blackmer said. “I continued to stress this was anti-Zionist. It really was, and also antisemitic.” 

She described further harassment—mud was daubed on her car, and there was another threatening voice message. She also said she was upset when a colleague attributed the attacks to a homophobic patriarchy but did not mention the anti-Zionist aspect. 

Blackmer went on to travel to Israel in 2016 through a grant from the Schusterman Center for Israel Studies at Brandeis University and met with Israelis and Palestinians, including gay Palestinians whom she said have a difficult time on both sides of the Green Line. More recently, she published a book, “Queering Anti-Zionism: Academic Freedom, LGBTQ Intellectuals, and Israel/Palestine Campus Activism.”

“The book has been doing very well,” she said. “There’s been a lot of interest in it…Either I could hide away [and] avoid these issues, or take them head-on. I decided to take them head-on.” 

Rich Tenorio covers antisemitism news for JewishBoston.com. His work has appeared in international, national, regional and local media outlets. He is a graduate of Harvard College and the Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism. He is also a cartoonist. Email him at rich@jewishboston.com. 

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CJP, White House Follow Similar Paths Against Antisemitism 

By Rich Tenorio 

(Photo: Marc Dufresne/iStock)

As both the White House and Combined Jewish Philanthropies of Greater Boston (CJP) have unveiled separate initiatives to combat antisemitism in 2023, local community leaders see common ground between the plans. 

“I do think there’s a great deal of intersection,” said Jeremy Burton, CEO of the Jewish Community Relations Council of Greater Boston

The White House released the first-of-its-kind National Strategy to Counter Antisemitism on May 25, 2023. Ten days earlier, CJP launched the “Face Jewish Hate” campaign in the Greater Boston area, which is part of the federation’s “5-Point Plan for Fighting Antisemitism.”

Both plans were unveiled in an atmosphere of rising hate nationwide and in Massachusetts. The White House plan referenced data from the FBI: While Jews number less than 3% of the national population, they were targeted in over 60% of documented hate crimes with a religious motivation. Meanwhile, the Anti-Defamation League (ADL) tracked nearly 3,700 antisemitic incidents across the U.S. last year, an all-time high in the organization’s 43 years of collecting such data. Within Massachusetts, there were 152 such incidents in 2022, the sixth-highest total among the 50 states. The ADL also reported in January 2023 that almost 30% of Americans espoused six or more long-time antisemitic tropes. 

“As we see, antisemitism and hate in general are surging in the country and region,” said Rabbi Jonah Steinberg, the ADL’s New England region director. “It’s really a threat to democracy itself. While expressing gratitude toward the Biden-Harris administration and while we’re really glad about the White House strategy, it’s not about politics, but principle. The strategy is welcome—speaking up and calling out antisemitism now, and doing it under the highest leadership of the land.” 

Steinberg added: “Now, [the national strategy] calls for implementation. The work has only just begun. The work of CJP and the ADL has been going on for a long time.” 

Within the White House and CJP plans, two areas of convergence mentioned by multiple leaders in separate conversations were the issues of allyship and security.  

Cindy Rowe, executive director of the Jewish Alliance for Law and Social Action (JALSA), said, “The call for allyship in both of the documents speaks very strongly to JALSA’s work, JALSA’s focus, as we move forward.” 

“I think the Biden administration, like many of us around the country, is really seeing a very threatening rise in white supremacy, people trying to divide our country, trying to manufacture an atmosphere of division and hatred,” Rowe said. “We who are impacted by antisemitism have to realize how connected it is to other hatreds being manufactured and create a coalition [and] make connections between what is going on so we can fight back together.” 

Other Boston-area leaders agreed. 

“CJP’s 5-Point Plan has an explicit section on community relations with allies,” Burton said. “An entire pillar is focused on the word ‘allyship’ in combating hate. That’s exactly right, as it should be.” 

Another such pillar of the CJP plan, he noted, is safety and security, which also dovetails with the national strategy. 

“In the security space, we continue to see the [Biden] administration has been committed to funding nonprofits at the federal level,” Burton said, adding that the national strategy urges state and local governments to tackle hate crimes through multiple means, including restorative justice, mental health services and victim support. 

“The need for security, so important in the CJP plan, is affirmed here by the [federal] government plan on pouring more money into efforts that complement CJP efforts,” said Robert Leikind, director of AJC New England. Leikind also saw convergence in “the idea that we need to educate about antisemitism—more specifically, concerns Jews have, including about anti-Zionism.” 

In discussing both plans, Jewish community leaders identified a further commonality—the need for continued work to combat antisemitism. 

“I think these plans are not ends of themselves, but the beginnings of a long journey,” Leikind said. “I think the timing of the CJP plan and the timing of the White House plan is incredibly fortunate. We have to sit down and do the hard work.” 

“I think it’s an important moment in the history of the Jewish community of the country,” Burton said. “We need to use it.” 

Rich Tenorio covers antisemitism news for JewishBoston.com. His work has appeared in international, national, regional and local media outlets. He is a graduate of Harvard College and the Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism. He is also a cartoonist. Email him at rich@jewishboston.com. 

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Understanding Traumatic Reactions to Antisemitism

By Kara Baskin

I know plenty of people who have been victims of antisemitism, from microaggressions to physical attacks. There is a sense of pervasive fear, of bracing for the worst. How do we conquer and counter this cocktail of dread and terror, both in the aftermath of an attack and overall? How do we take care of ourselves?
 
I spoke to Jessica Slavin Connelly about how to address antisemitic trauma. She’s a Boston-area psychotherapist and longtime Jewish educator and lay leader who has worked in the Jewish school community in various settings, including as an interfaith youth facilitator for the Anti-Defamation League. She’s also led antisemitism workshops for audiences ranging from kindergarten to adults.

Here’s her advice.

On antisemitism’s many forms:

Several of my friends’ teenagers have been on text threads where casually racist messages and swastikas will suddenly pop up. Other times, it’s more public: bathroom graffiti or antisemitic signs billowing on bridges above the highway, or during an interview with a celebrity.
 
But antisemitism can often manifest more subtly as what Slavin Connelly calls “unintentional microaggressions,” even from a friend or a neighbor—the mom at drop-off who jokes that she only wants a Jewish lawyer or the neighbor who remarks on your kids’ Jewish nose. “A microaggression is anything that’s a generalization applied to a group of people,” she says.
 
“When first faced with antisemitism in our lives, people are often stunned, confused and scared, wondering if they’re overreacting and angry. Because, if [antisemitic incidents are] still happening, then what does that mean about all of the work the previous generations did to pass down our history, and what does that mean about our worldview? If reenactment, remembrance and maintaining Jewish identity hasn’t kept antisemitism from rearing its ugly head again, like we thought it would, then that may leave us questioning everything about our past, present, future, safety and Jewish identity,” she says.
 
These incidents—any of them—can feel hugely destabilizing, and your feelings are valid, whether you’re a kid or an adult.

On common responses to trauma: 

Trauma is an emotional response to a terrible event. Slavin Connelly says that fight, flight, freeze or fawn reactions are common, either when talking about it or after witnessing something frightening.
 
Flight: Holing up at home, retreating and hiding out in fear and feeling out of control.
 
Fight: Posting angrily on social media, or cutting out relationships rather than expressing yourself calmly and assertively.
 
Freeze: Not knowing what to say when a friend makes a microaggressive comment, so remaining silent instead.
 
Fawn: Going overboard to make others feel comfortable with your Jewishness, assimilating or keeping quiet, even when uncomfortable.

On the after-effects of trauma:

Trauma is an ongoing experience. People who experience antisemitism might suffer lingering, ongoing symptoms: “You might ruminate, become easily angered or irritable, have disrupted sleep and a decreased ability to focus, experience a loss of appetite, feel disconnected from day-to-day life, become hyper-vigilant or unable to stop scrolling or turn off the news,” she says.
 
You might also experience cognitive distortions. “Experiencing a trauma typically involves a change in personal beliefs about the self and the world that can be scary and unmooring,” Slavin Connelly says. This often takes the shape of catastrophic, all-or-nothing thinking: The world is doomed, everywhere is unsafe, nobody is trustworthy. You might begin to shame yourself for feeling upset or become enraged when non-Jewish friends or family don’t speak up.

On self-care and taking action:

There’s help. Slavin Connelly urges people who’ve experienced trauma to reach out to their local Jewish community for communal support, to share with trusted friends and to “take action while also holding space for gam zeh ya’avor: ‘This too shall pass,’” she says.
 
It’s also OK to take a break and retreat if you need to. This can be hard, “especially for the Jewish community, where we are taught not to look away, to be there in times of crisis for others, to remember what our own community went through,” she says. “Depending on how much of this was part of the ethos of your upbringing, it can be very hard to look away, but ruminating over and over engages us in a loop that reinforces traumatization.” Go easy on yourself.
 
Tikkun olam (repairing the world) matters, too. Helping others is a refreshing way to put your feelings in perspective. “Help others on the micro level, one-to-one, human-to-human and zoom out to recognize that we are in a world where so many are experiencing hardship or prejudice and recognizing that while our thoughts, feelings and reactions about antisemitism matter, really matter, there are infinite other things that matter equally,” she says.
 
And, maybe most importantly, “Look to Jewish history not only backward in fear of repetition but instead as a reminder that the Jewish community has repeatedly faced hardships in a cyclical way over the course of history and has always endured, survived as a people and thrived,” she says.
 
For more support, visit cjp.org/mental-health.
 
Kara Baskin is the parenting writer for JewishBoston.com. She is also a regular contributor to The Boston Globe and a contributing editor at Boston Magazine. She has worked for New York Magazine and The New Republic, and helped to launch the now-defunct Jewish Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Email her at kara@jewishboston.com.

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What to Do When You See a Swastika

By Kara Baskin

Recently, I got a text from a friend who lives in a rural part of central Massachusetts, down a long driveway. A swastika had been spray-painted at the foot of her street. She had no idea who did it; the symbol was a chilling reminder of the anonymous hatred that lurks even in quiet, supposedly safe places. Although her neighbors attempted to erase it, the hauntingly faded outlines remain.

These instances are numerous and often far more out in the open. In 2022, ADL tabulated 3,697 antisemitic incidents throughout the United States. This is a 36% increase from the 2,717 incidents tabulated in 2021 and the highest number on record since ADL began tracking antisemitic incidents in 1979.

In this climate, it’s easy to become inured to this kind of hideousness. To paint over the ugliness and move along. But we can’t. We have to act as though every time is the worst time, that every incident is disgusting, to resist complacency. I talked to The Rashi School middle school dean Joni Fishman and ADL New England deputy regional director Peggy Shukur about how to do this, especially with kids, as incidents become more prevalent.

“Some call antisemitism the oldest form of hatred,” Shukur says. “It’s something that feels more frequent judging by the types of incidents we’re getting, and it demands that parents have conversations with children.” (If you have experienced or witnessed an incident of bias, hatred or bigotry, you can report it here.)

Explain what a swastika is. Whenever possible, teach.

In this era, the symbol is notorious, but what does it truly mean? As more and more Holocaust survivors die off, the chilling significance of the symbol as the emblem of the Nazi party can lose its meaning, recognized merely as an easy means to instill fear.

“People have chosen a symbol that’s widely recognized as one of the most notorious hate symbols in Western culture, whether they know details about the Holocaust or not,” Shukur says. Some kids might even doodle it, not knowing what it is. Tell them. Says Fishman: “When I once asked a young person, ‘What does a swastika mean to you?’ they responded, ‘Well, it’s one of those things you see, and it’s not so nice.’ Not so nice!” Some people truly might not understand the true weight of the symbol. As we move further and further from the Holocaust, she says, we need to educate whenever we can.

Words have power, and actions matter.

We’re inundated with news around the clock; we can fire off tweets and reduce sentiments to hashtags. It’s easy to simply say, “Just kidding! I didn’t realize!” Fishman says. But even now, especially now, words still matter. Conversations still matter.

This is especially important for young people. Talk to your children. Ask them, “What have you seen in the news? What are you thinking about? What are you worried about?” she says. The delivery mechanisms for information might have changed, but the human capacity to make sense of it all hasn’t evolved along with it. Pause to check in with your kids.

Yes, we live in a scary world. Antisemitism and other forms of hate have been rising, and the impacts of climate change and gun violence are also threatening. If your children come home scared, “You can always listen,” says Fishman. “Say, ‘Tell me what’s on your mind. Is there anything specific you’d like me to do?’ Don’t jump into, ‘I’m going to fix this,’ but offer tools to help them feel safer,” whether that’s explaining safety measures their school has taken or helping them to understand where hate and bias come from in the first place, so it’s less sinisterly mysterious. There are tools available to help have these conversations not only with your children, but also with adults who need support.

Use the ADL’s Good Fight toolkit.

This is a 30-page, easy-to-read primer on antisemitism. What is it? Why does it exist? How do we fight it while also protecting our own safety? What are the origins?

The toolkit explains: “Systemic antisemitism has existed since ancient times, originating as religious intolerance after Christianity became the central religious, cultural and political force in medieval Europe. Following the development of ‘scientific’ explanations for race, Jews were seen as a biologically inferior and distinct group, oftentimes a justification for isolation and expulsion. Central to antisemitism is the myth that Jews are to blame for society’s problems.”

The free download offers a helpful grounding framework; it’s a comprehensive resource on how to respond to hate—ways to talk to your children about what they might see and hear, how to press peers if they make antisemitic comments and how to report incidents. Read it. 

Kara Baskin is the parenting writer for JewishBoston.com. She is also a regular contributor to The Boston Globe and a contributing editor at Boston Magazine. She has worked for New York Magazine and The New Republic, and helped to launch the now-defunct Jewish Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Email her at kara@jewishboston.com.

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Dismantling Antisemitic Beliefs About the U.S., Israel and Zionism

By Rich Tenorio

Walter Russell Mead (Courtesy photo)

When academic and author Walter Russell Mead gave lectures as a guest speaker for the State Department to audiences around the world, he was surprised by recurring misperceptions about American Jews, the U.S. government and Israel. 

“People were constantly arguing that somehow American policy toward Israel was radically different than policies toward other countries and the only possible explanation was that the American Jewish community—maybe with some help from the evangelical Christians—was influencing the American policy discussion,” Mead said. “It just did not make sense to me, I have to say.” 

Mead has written a new book in response—“The Arc of a Covenant: The United States, Israel, and the Fate of the Jewish People.” At over 600 pages, the book is a comprehensive examination of American policy toward Israel and Zionism, as well as a rebuttal of antisemitic beliefs about the perceived influence of the American Jewish community. 

A professor of foreign affairs and humanities at Bard College and a columnist for The Wall Street Journal, Mead wrote the book over the course of a decade, changing focus midway through the project. 

Along the way, he helped shatter some myths. Politically, Israel and America have not always been closely aligned, and when they have drawn closer, it was often through presidents who were unpopular among American Jews, such as the trio of Richard Nixon, George W. Bush and Donald Trump, who acted more out of what they saw as the national interest and less about how they perceived American Jews would respond. When the American Jewish community did call upon the government to intervene on behalf of coreligionists abroad, they got nowhere—most infamously during the Holocaust. Conversely, some of Israel’s most important supporters throughout history were neither Jewish nor evangelical. In the 1940s, Israel got crucial backing from pro-U.N. progressives such as Eleanor Roosevelt, while today, Republicans who embrace the philosophy of Andrew Jackson represent an equally important constituency. 

“Over 50% of Americans are supportive of Israel,” Mead said, noting that this far exceeds the number of evangelicals and Jews in the country, while the idea that “one or both of these groups is driving the whole train struck me as just very improbable.” 

One creative motif that characterizes the book is the author’s references to Planet Vulcan—not Mr. Spock’s birthplace, but rather a purported scientific discovery from the 19th century. The French astronomer Urbain Jean Joseph Le Verrier claimed he had found a new planet around Mercury. This “discovery” was accepted by many before it was disproved by Albert Einstein several decades later. Le Verrier’s belief in a planet that didn’t actually exist, the author posits, is similar to the way people across the world view U.S. policy on Israel. 

“I had talks with cabinet ministers and policymakers in countries around the world,” Mead reflected. “I heard them coming up with conspiracy theories that were almost something you’d expect from ‘The Protocols of the Elders of Zion.’ This was not simply popular prejudice rooted in ignorance. These were actually intelligent, well-informed people, generally speaking, who just could not see something clearly.” 

Noting that even Thomas Edison claimed he could see Planet Vulcan, Mead said, “People following logic and reason, as they understood it, were seeing something that wasn’t there, for 30 years. I think it’s a useful analogy for people coming to the conclusion that Jews are responsible for America’s Israel policy.” 

To help readers understand the real sources of U.S. support for Israel, the author explores the history of American attitudes toward Jews and Israel, which he describes as overall friendlier than in Europe and warmly disposed toward a particular Protestant reading of the Bible. 

(Courtesy image)

“American Protestants have been teaching since before the American Revolution, going back to the 1600s in New England,” he said, “about the ritual prophecies in Isaiah and other places [in the Bible] as well, about the return of the Jews to the land of the Bible.” 

According to Mead, starting early on in American history, “we see the idea of supporting a restoration of the Jews to their historic homeland.” 

The nation’s second president, John Adams of Massachusetts, once wrote to a Jewish friend, “I hope someday to see you at the head of an army returning to the land of your faith.” America’s 26th president, Theodore Roosevelt, traveled to Ottoman Palestine as a young boy with his parents. In 1917, following his two terms as chief executive, he embraced the Balfour Declaration, Great Britain’s statement of support for a Jewish national home in Palestine. 

Mead acknowledged that America has hardly been free of antisemitism during its history, and that in addition to philo-semitism and geopolitics, American Zionists have also included antisemites who wanted to get Jews out of the U.S. 

He added, “A critical mass of non-Jewish support was available for the Zionist project. It was not available for other things Jews wanted to do.” 

Poignantly, he said, “If you look at the record of Jewish lobbying in America in the 1930s, what the Jews wanted was two things: Tell Hitler and other countries in Europe to stop persecuting Jews, and allow greater numbers of Jews to come to America from where they were being persecuted. They got nowhere; they got nothing.” He further noted that following World War II and President Harry S. Truman’s recognition of Israel in 1948, “Immediately afterward, Dwight Eisenhower came to power. Eisenhower actually sided with Egypt against Israel at the time of the Suez Crisis. 

“The idea that somehow Jews are in control, Jews are telling everybody what to do, explains our Israel policy, to me it’s a crazy idea with no serious foundation in history or logic,” Mead said. 

Rich Tenorio covers antisemitism news for JewishBoston.com. His work has appeared in international, national, regional and local media outlets. He is a graduate of Harvard College and the Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism. He is also a cartoonist. Email him at rich@jewishboston.com. 

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Eyes Wide Open: A Sweatshirt in a Time of Antisemitism

By Dan Brosgol

The day after Maccabi Haifa beat Juventus in the UEFA Champions League, I wore one of their green-and-white jerseys to work—I have an embarrassingly large collection of them from all the time I’ve spent in Haifa. It was a great conversation starter with all the people I ran into, but there was always a little pause when I wondered if I should mention that Maccabi is an Israeli team. It’s not dissimilar to when British people ask me why I’m a Liverpool fan and after some hesitation I talk about how I started rooting for them when Yossi Benayoun signed there. 

Every day is rife with these little hinges of decision points. Should I post about Maccabi’s win on Facebook? Yes. Should I change my profile frame to say “I stand with Israel” during rocket attacks from Gaza? I did. Should I retweet the Israel Defense Forces posts about the terrorists killed in Jenin? Did I? I forget. How stridently should I take up pro-Israel activism on social media? Tough one. 

In some respects, wearing the Maccabi jersey felt easy; the Jewish star is subtle, and the Hebrew print is small on the badge. But will I wear my Team Israel baseball sweatshirt around for a day in public during the World Baseball Classic? The sad answer is that until a few years ago, I would have done it without thinking, but now it’s a maybe. And if I’m being honest, it’s probably a no. Try as you might (and I’m not trying hard at all) to find one, in almost every case there is no border between anti-Zionism and antisemitism, and I’d immediately be a target. 

I have the great privilege of making these calculations in Middlesex County, home to roughly 180,000 Jews; if you do the math, about one out of every 10 people you run into around the 128 corridor is Jewish. That’s one heck of a Jewish bubble—1% of all the Jews in the world live around here, and if you draw a circle around 495 and Southern New Hampshire, more than 2% of all the Jews anywhere live within an hour of my house. Is there strength in those numbers? You bet. I should feel comfortable expressing my Judaism, whether rooted in religion, Zionism or culture, without fear. But it’s not that easy.  

To be fair, it wasn’t that easy, well, ever. Generations ago, Jewish kids in Boston used to get beat up on their way to Boston Latin School. When I was a kid, I was teased mercilessly for being Jewish and was told in no uncertain terms in middle school that I killed Jesus. And a few years ago, our town made headlines nationally (and in Al-Jazeera, somehow) for a spate of antisemitic incidents. And, in case you forgot, there’s plenty more antisemitism to go around today; I’d list some of those recent news stories here, but I don’t have enough room. 

I walk around with Judaism burning through my veins all day, every day, yet when people see me, I’m just another white guy, with all the privilege attached to it. But the second I show my Judaism, there’s an instant risk, and it has to be calculated. And if I’m having second thoughts in one of the largest Diaspora Jewish communities in the world, then imagine how it is for Jews just about anywhere else. Would you feel safe walking around visibly Jewish in Malmo, Sweden? In Paris? In certain parts of Florida? How about when the Proud Boys were riding the T to and from Malden? The answer to all of those questions is no. 

If there’s good news, it’s that the demise of the American Jewish community has been greatly exaggerated—we are still alive and kicking. And despite the never-ending drumbeat of terrible news, it’s fair to say there’s nowhere I’d rather be Jewish, although as I have muttered for some time now, Toronto and Tel Aviv are also looking pretty good. The thread that ties all those cities together is that there are Jews there, there is community there, and there is great strength in those numbers.  

While it’s never a bad time (or is it never a good time?) to joke about our holidays and their usual refrains, it’s worth repeating: You know the punch line—they tried to kill us, we survived, let’s eat; it’s gallows humor, but it’s also true. In the spring, in particular, we celebrate Purim, perhaps the greatest celebration of a triumph over antisemitism, and Passover, an unlikely tale of survival, redemption and freedom from oppression. And as far away as those events feel from today, they are dangerously and disappointingly relevant. 

Do you need more prodding? During the V’hi She’amda passage at the Passover seder, we sing: “Not only one enemy has risen up against us to destroy us, but in every generation they rise up to destroy us.” The happy-ish ending to that text is, “But the Holy One, Blessed be He, delivers us from their hands.” 

But not always.  

The danger in history repeating itself is that history has been pretty rough for us. If we’re being honest, there’s not usually a hero who rises to defend us, a miracle to save us or a golem to protect us; more often than not our hope for salvation ends up being like waiting for Godot. But through it all, a 2,000-year Diaspora featuring the Crusades, the Inquisition, blood libels, the Holocaust and untold other tragedies, we are still here.  

So, I guess I’ll bet on us, but with my eyes wide open. I’m just not sure if I’ll wear that sweatshirt around Whole Foods. But maybe I should. 

Dan Brosgol has been writing for JewishBoston.com since 2010. He lives in Bedford with his wife and five children.

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The Top 10 Films Tackling Antisemitism

By Rich Tenorio

At a hotel in the White Mountains, a man arrives to check in for his honeymoon stay. When he identifies as Jewish and asks if there is a policy against Jewish guests, he is told there is suddenly no vacancy, recommended to go to another hotel and ushered out the door. This is a scene from “Gentleman’s Agreement,” a 1947 Gregory Peck feature film about antisemitism that marks its 75th anniversary this year. It’s also one of 10 films spotlighted by experts as among the most significant to address antisemitism. Here’s the list—watch one, or more!

Gentleman’s Agreement” (1947)
Dorothy McGuire and Gregory Peck in “Gentleman’s Agreement” (Promotional still)

This film won the Academy Award for best picture. Peck stars as Schuyler Green, a journalist whose first assignment for a magazine is to write an exposé on antisemitism. Green, who is Christian, makes a daring decision: He will assume the identity of a Jew. Peck’s character makes a series of shattering discoveries about antisemitism in America—including “gentleman’s agreements” prohibiting Jews at hotels.

“[The film] reinforces the idea that antisemitism is un-American—good Americans, real Americans, nice people are not meant to have that sort of [antisemitic] viewpoint,” said Samantha Pickette, assistant director of the Schusterman Center for Jewish Studies at the University of Texas at Austin, who received her Ph.D. from Boston University. 

Overall, “‘Gentleman’s Agreement’ really reflects this moment in American culture in the immediate post-war years,” she said. “This kind of reckoning with the fact that antisemitism had been and was still rampant within the U.S. There was a cognitive dissonance around the fact that the antisemitism that existed in American society was essentially the same kind of antisemitism at the root of what had just happened in Nazi Germany. It was difficult for post-war Americans to accept that they could be anything like Nazis.” 

Crossfire (1947)
Robert Ryan and William Phipps in “Crossfire” (Promotional still)

Centering on a murder case with antisemitism as a motive, this film features Robert Young and Robert Mitchum. Like “Gentleman’s Agreement,” “Crossfire” marks its 75th anniversary this year. Pickette describes both as “probably the most well-known” films about antisemitism. 

“When you look back at films that have come out either addressing antisemitism or at least including scenes related to antisemitism, they should be included,” she said. 

School Ties” (1992)
Matt Damon and Brendan Fraser in “School Ties” (Promotional still)

Set in a fictitious, upper-crust New England prep school during the 1950s, this film stars Brendan Fraser as David, a working-class Jewish student-athlete who conceals his faith. He excels on the football team and dates a debutante, but things worsen dramatically after his identity is revealed. 

Noted Pickette: “There’s a bit of a triumph in encouraging audiences to put themselves in the shoes of somebody who’s Jewish and experiencing these things. It sort of encourages audiences to be a little bit more empathic.” 

The actors portraying David’s tormentors include two men from Cambridge who went on to Hollywood stardom—Matt Damon and Ben Affleck. CJP president Rabbi Marc Baker had a bit role, and last year appeared on a panel when the Boston Jewish Film Festival screened it. Joey Katz, director of special programming for Boston Jewish Film, said they discussed how the film, specifically antisemitism in schools, is still relevant today. 

Denial” (2016)
Actor Rachel Weisz and author Deborah Lipstadt on the set of their film “Denial,” a Bleecker Street release. (Photo credit: Liam Daniel/Bleecker Street)

Rachel Weisz stars as Deborah Lipstadt, current U.S. special envoy for monitoring and combating antisemitism. The film centers on an earlier moment from Lipstadt’s career—the 1996 trial that ensued when Holocaust denier David Irving sued her for libel in the U.K. 

John Michalczyk, director of the film studies program at Boston College and a documentarian with extensive experience in making films about the Holocaust, described “Denial” as “a very popular film, very well-acted.” 

Mr. Skeffington” (1944) 
Bette Davis and Claude Rains in “Mr. Skeffington” (Promotional still)

Leslie Epstein, former head of the creative writing program at Boston University, has a family connection to this film: Its co-writers and co-producers were Philip and Julius Epstein—his father and uncle, respectively. (Bostonians celebrate another member of the family—her son Theo, who in 2004 was the general manager of the Red Sox when they won the World Series for the first time in 86 years.) 

Back in 1942, Philip and Julius Epstein won the Academy Award for best screenplay for “Casablanca.” Two years later, they courageously made a film that addressed antisemitism, starring Bette Davis and Claude Rains. According to Leslie Epstein, his father and uncle not only tackled the issue at a time when Hollywood was reluctant to do so, they actually used the word “Jewish” in the film—a rarity during those years. “There was tremendous cowardice in the American and Jewish film community shown all through World War II, before and after—‘Don’t make waves, don’t make it a Jewish war.’”  

Asked how his father and uncle were able to defy this, he replied: “They were able to do ‘Mr. Skeffington’ because they were the producers. They were not just schmucks with typewriters, and because they were the producers, they had some leeway.” 

Jojo Rabbit” (2019)
Thomasin McKenzie, Roman Griffin Davis and Taika Waititi in “Jojo Rabbit” (Courtesy photo: Kimberley French/Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation)

Taika Waititi not only directed this film, he won the Oscar for best adapted screenplay and appeared as Adolf Hitler. Waititi’s Hitler is the imaginary friend of a young boy named Jojo growing up in Nazi Germany. Initially a proud member of the Hitler Youth, Jojo becomes more sensitive to the plight of the Jews—first through his mother, Rosie (Scarlett Johansson), and then from Elsa, the Jewish girl Rosie hides in their home. 

At Boston College, Michalczyk includes “Jojo Rabbit” in a course he teaches on film and art in the Third Reich.  

Chariots of Fire” (1981)
Nigel Havers and Ben Cross in “Chariots of Fire” (Promotional still)

Known for its stirring instrumental theme, this British film won the Oscar for best picture, best screenplay, best costume design and best original score. It dramatizes the real-life friendship between two U.K. track and field stars—Harold Abrahams, a Jew, and Eric Liddell, a Protestant missionary—and their memorable performances in the 1924 Summer Olympics. Played by Ben Cross, Abrahams is a student at Cambridge University, where his faith is the subject of some questionable comments from administrators. Overall, Michalczyk finds the film both powerful and positive. 

Isaac” (2019)
Dainius Kazlauskas in “Isaac” (Promotional still)

This Lithuanian film addresses the massacres of Jews in World War II in what was then a Soviet socialist republic—and to what extent the local population was involved. Katz, of Boston Jewish Film, said “Isaac” has “kind of a different angle on antisemitism.” 

“Basically, it’s about this person who took part in a pogrom in Lithuania in the early 1940s, and then it’s kind of him coming to terms with what he’s done. He becomes a film director in the Soviet Union and guilt starts to take over. He incorporates it into his films and he writes his films about it.”  

Witness Theater” (2018)
“Witness Theater: The Film” by Oren Rudavsky (Promotional still: Menemsha Films)

This documentary by Oren Rudavsky takes its name from a program in which Holocaust survivors create dramatic productions about their lives, in partnership with high school students. 

“I think it’s a fantastic documentary,” Katz said, noting that the survivors are “telling the stories of antisemitism, their experiences [and] making those connections to students, informing them.” 

American History X” (1998)
Edward Norton in “American History X” (Promotional still)

Edward Norton and Edward Furlong take top billing as a pair of neo-Nazi, white-supremacist skinhead brothers from Los Angeles. 

“It’s a very disturbing film,” Pickette said. “Also, it’s an important film to watch. It really makes you uncomfortable. It’s supposed to make you uncomfortable. It confronts the fact that this kind of bigotry exists in our society. It’s the same thing in today’s day and age, when antisemitism is on the rise with all sorts of different kinds of bigotry and racism.”  

Other films about antisemitism to add to your watch list:

Rich Tenorio covers antisemitism news for JewishBoston.com. His work has appeared in international, national, regional and local media outlets. He is a graduate of Harvard College and the Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism. He is also a cartoonist. Email him at rich@jewishboston.com.