By
Marissa Robbins
As
a middle-class, white Ashkenazi Jew living in California in 2016, I’ve been
privileged to avoid the systemic, cultural and interpersonal racism faced by
many Muslims, immigrants and people of color across the U.S. today.
However,
my uncle was not as fortunate. He was a Holocaust survivor who saw his entire
family killed in front of him in a concentration camp. Although overt, violent antisemitism
is largely absent from the United States and has not been part of my
experience, I’ve begun to see a shift in the past six months.
Donald
Trump’s presidential campaign has forced me and thousands of other American
Jews to face antisemitic threats for the first time. Throughout the election
cycle, Jews have used a hashtag created by Bend the Arc Jewish Action,
#WeveSeenThisBefore, as a reminder that Trump’s rhetoric and bigotry echo
demagogues of the past.
After
a national anti-Trump rally organized by Bend the Arc in June made the hashtag
viral on social media, antisemitic white supremacists got hold of it and
twisted it to spread hate on Twitter, specifically targeting Jews like myself
who were organizing against Trump.
The
least-hurtful attacks spoke of big noses, bad hair and “going back to Israel,”
but then came the explicit threats of violence. In my case, I was bombarded
with horrifying Photoshopped images of my face in a cartoon gas chamber, with
Trump pushing the button.
Even
though I am not a journalist or a political professional, I feel desensitized
to most internet hate. But this hit particularly close to home. I was shaken,
my blood boiling and my anxiety rising, and I remembered my ancestors before me
who were subjected to real, physical, bodily violence simply because they were
Jews.
Thankfully,
after I reported the attacks, at least one of the accounts was disabled by
Twitter. I was also fortunate to receive support and encouragement on- and
offline from friends and fellow volunteers.
The
moment passed, but I continued to be reminded throughout the summer and fall
that Trump’s campaign has given voice to extremely hateful white-supremacist
rhetoric and brought it into the mainstream of American politics.
Over
the past 16 months, Trump’s campaign has openly and unabashedly stirred up
hatred against women, people of color, Muslims and immigrants. He has refused
to condemn some of his explicitly white-supremacist alt-right supporters and
has even promoted images and tweets created by these individuals on his own
Twitter feed.
Trump
has also recently incorporated the antisemitic trope of an international
banker/media/elite conspiracy into his rhetoric, dog-whistling to the
white-supremacist, neo-Nazi portion of his base.
My
fellow Jews and I have refused to be intimidated by the vicious antisemitism of
Trump’s online supporters. My activism is informed by the dedication of Jews
throughout American history to fighting hatred, bigotry and oppression in all
forms.
I
proudly display a “Jews Reject Trump” sign on my bedroom wall and plan to work
as hard as I can to ensure that he and his vitriolic hatred are defeated next
Tuesday. The structures of oppression in our society will still exist even if
Trump is defeated, and we must be committed to fighting them through November
and beyond.
Jews
have a moral obligation to act when others are threatened and targeted with
violence and hatred. We must unite to make clear that this kind of hatred is
unacceptable in modern America and that we are prepared to fight tooth and nail
against white supremacy in all its ugly forms.
Let’s
stand together as Jews and as concerned Americans to ensure Trump’s defeat.
It’s incumbent on all of us to do more than just vote. Make phone calls at your
local campaign office, go door to door in a swing state if you can, and talk to
your community online and in person.
Jews
have seen this kind of hatred before. Now we must show we are committed to
ensuring that a demagogue like Trump never becomes president of the United States.
See you at the polls.
