Riots in Paris, cries of ‘Jews to the gas’ in Berlin and an Italian
call for a ‘Nuremberg Tribunal’ for Israel have yet to trigger a Jewish exodus
from Europe.
Two weeks ago, a secret emergency meeting was held in Jerusalem, chaired
jointly by Economy Minister Naftali Bennett, whose cabinet portfolio includes
the relationship between Israel and the Jewish Diaspora, and Jewish Agency
Chairman Natan Sharansky. On the agenda was the outbreak of antisemitic attacks
on Jews across Europe in the wake of the Gaza conflict. The meeting was
attended by representatives of government departments and major Jewish
organizations operating in Europe. They heard assessments from the leadership
and security bodies of some of the European communities, and from experts in
Israeli agencies who have a brief to monitor the physical safety of Jews around
the world and discreetly assist communities at risk.
Little role for Israel
No conclusions were reached at the meeting. As of now there is little
Israel can or perhaps should do. The rash of attacks on Jews, vandalism of synagogues
and homes, and virulent antisemitic rhetoric is being confronted energetically
by police, local authorities and national governments. The level of violence,
while unprecedented in decades, is not yet causing a scared exodus – no-one is
chartering planes for an airlift. But something has changed.
Those who have been monitoring levels of antisemitism in Europe for
years are struggling to put their finger on what exactly has changed in recent
weeks. Looking back at the last 15 years, the current wave of attacks is just
the latest in a series beginning with the outbreak of the second intifada in
2000, and repeating itself with each round of violence in Gaza, the West Bank
or Lebanon. So what is different this time?
‘Jews to the gas’
It isn’t just the large number of cases of attacks and vandalism of
synagogues across the continent, including firebombings in Germany and France,
the anti-Israel demonstrations in Paris that swiftly turned into riots outside
synagogues and Jewish-owned stores, the cries of “Jews to the gas” in Berlin,
and of course the hundreds of cases of verbal abuse of Jews on the street and
on social networks.
It wasn’t only Turkey’s President-elect Recep Tayyip Erdogan, who
compared Israel to Hitler and called upon the local Jewish community to condemn
the Jewish state. In other countries Jews have come up against the demand to
distance themselves from Israel. The Tricycle Theatre in London refused to host
the U.K. Jewish Film Festival because the organizers would not end their cooperation
with the Israeli embassy. Italian historian Angelo d’Orsi called for Israel to
face a “Nuremberg Tribunal” and said that he used the term Nuremberg “to shock
the Italian Jewish community,” which has become “a mouthpiece for the Israeli
government.” The popular Spanish newspaper El Mundo published an article by
playwright Antonio Gala saying, “It’s not strange they (the Jews) have been so
frequently expelled.”
“It’s worse than any previous
period we can remember. Worse than the waves after Operation Cast Lead and the
Marmara incident,” says Richard Goldstein, operations director at the Institute
for Jewish Policy Research in London, where he closely follows the situation of
Jewish communities in Europe. “Intimidating demonstrations in numerous places
in Europe, often leading to attacks on Jewish businesses and synagogues – we
haven’t seen things like this for decades. On the other hand, there have been
sudden waves like this in the past and afterwards things went back to normal.
It’s hard now to predict how things will look once Gaza calms down. But it
looks like a red line has been crossed where many don’t make the distinction
between Israel and Jews anymore.”
In the last eight years Europe has seen a series of murders of Jews and
Israelis – starting with the kidnap, torture and murder of Ilan Halimi in Paris
in 2006. In 2012 four French-Israeli Jews were shot outside a Jewish school in
Toulouse. The same year five Israeli tourists and a local driver were killed in
the explosion of a bus in Burgas, Bulgaria. Two and a half months ago four
people were murdered at the Jewish Museum in Brussels. Other plans to carry out
terror attacks on Jewish targets were foiled.
All these attacks were carried out by Muslim assailants but the motives
were different. The gang that murdered Halimi tried to extort money from his
family. The Burgas bombing has been linked to Hezbollah while the Toulouse
shooting was done by a radicalized French civilian acting on his own. So was
Mehdi Nemmouche, the alleged shooter from Brussels who may have been acting
with some connection to the Islamic State, for which he fought in Syria before
returning home.
The connection between the radicalization among large Muslim communities
in western Europe and the wave of antisemitism cannot be ignored. But at the
same time generalizations are very dangerous. Most Muslims in these countries
are ordinary citizens trying to get by, without much interest in politics. And
most of those who take part in demonstrations supporting Gaza do not overstep
the line between legitimate protest and violence. They or their parents
emigrated from a wide range of countries; most are not even Arabs. In Britain
many are of Pakistani origin, in Germany a large number are Turkish, and in
France they are predominantly from the Maghreb.
Sociologist Keith Kahn-Harris, whose recent book, Uncivil War, explores
the connection between the Jewish community and Israel, says that “while there
are other, much bloodier conflicts taking place in the Middle East, they are
between Muslims, while the Israeli-Palestinian conflict has a non-Muslim side
who are seen by Muslims in Europe as colonialist occupiers. It’s easier
therefore for Muslim Europeans who have found it hard to integrate to identify
with the Palestinians.” The blurred distinction between Jews and Israelis has
led to absurd scenes like the flying of Islamic State and Palestinian flags
together at demonstrations and on the gates of a housing estate in East London.
The antisemitic dynamic changes between countries. In France and Belgium
it is fueled by the frustrations of young Muslims living in poor suburbs. In
Germany the new antisemitism blends in with the old neo-Nazi elements. In
Britain it feeds off parts of the radical left who see Israeli Jews as
colonialists. In Spain, Italy and Greece the Judeophobia feeds off resentment
towards the global financial system, which is widely blamed for these
countries’ economic woes and deep recession. In Hungary, where there are very
few Muslims, antisemitism is part of a wave of ultra-nationalism sweeping the
country. And across Europe, the rise of anti-EU parties has also led to a
repudiation of the vision of a borderless, tolerant, multicultural continent,
which in many cases has also brought a return of the oldest European hatred.
So far the violence against Jews has been met with a tough response from
the authorities, including even a temporary ban on anti-Israel demonstrations
in France. German Chancellor Angela Merkel said antisemitism was “an attack on
freedom, on tolerance and on our democratic state.” French Prime Minister
Manuel Valls said that “to attack a Jew is to attack France.” The foreign
ministers of Germany, Italy and France issued a joint statement condemning all
forms of violence. In Sweden, a local Muslim politician was forced to resign
after saying that “in Palestine our brothers are being slaughtered by the
Jewish pigs.” As Daniella Peled wrote last week in Haaretz, in Britain,
pro-Palestinian organizations have tried, with some success, to prevent
demonstrators using placards comparing Israel to the Nazis, and called upon
their supporters not to harass Jews after leaving the protests.
It’s important at this stage not to exaggerate the seriousness of the
incidents or to confuse legitimate, even angry, protests against Israel and
violence towards Jews. Most of the antisemitic incidents have been on the
Internet or in speech; actual physical violence has been relatively limited.
Only a few months ago, some Jewish organizations were warning about a terrible
wave of antisemitism about to befall the Jews of Ukraine following the
revolution in Kiev. Aside from a few isolated cases, it has failed to
materialize, and both sides in the Ukrainian conflict, the pro-western Kiev
government and the pro-Russian separatists, have made efforts to show that they
are protecting Jewish communities.
The Jewish Agency has made much of the fact that aliyah from France has
doubled over the last two years. Agency chairman Sharansky wrote last month in
the London Jewish Chronicle that “we are seeing the beginning of the end of
Jewish history in Europe.” But even if 6,000 French Jews immigrate this year to
Israel, it will only be 1 percent of the Jewish community there.
“It’s a mistake to connect the
large aliyah from France solely with antisemitism,” says a senior Agency
official. “They are leaving mainly for financial reasons and have planned this
over the course of years. No one sees an antisemitic incident and comes to
Israel the next day.”
Last week Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu sent a letter to Jewish
communities around the world, thanking them for being “a source of great
strength for the people of Israel” during the last two months. The ties between
Israel and European Jewry have probably never been stronger, but at the same
time, 99 percent of European Jews choose to continue living there, and in many
places are undergoing a fascinating cultural renaissance. They are aware of and
worried about the rise in antisemitism, but as yet there doesn’t seem to be the
fear of a pogrom right around the corner. No one is sleeping with their bags
packed, ready to flee to Zion. Even the most ardent Zionists among them are
concerned not to be held accountable as Jews for the actions of the Jewish
state.
