Jews don't count

Do we care enough about antisemitism?

Last Tuesday, viewers of TalkSport’s YouTube channel were subjected to the antisemitic views of a listener. It took TalkSport more than 15 hours to publicly condemn the words and apologise for their broadcast. Tottenham Hotspur, whose Jewish chairman was the victim of the caller’s slur, were not impressed:

“It cannot be acceptable that antisemitism does not receive the same level of condemnation as other forms of discrimination and efforts to tackle it should be no less rigorous.”

I was particularly struck by these words, because they illustrated some of the issues raised in David Baddiel’s new book, Jews Don’t Count, which was part of my holiday reading pile. This book is a passionate plea to fully include antisemitism in discussions of racism. And it’s a book I would recommend to Christians wanting to stand in solidarity with British Jews against this evil.

When Jews don’t count

The title gives away Baddiel’s main thesis — amid society’s increased concern for the status and rights of minorities, one minority has been neglected. Jews are “one of the most persecuted minorities in history” (3), and their persecution is an ongoing reality. But in contemporary discussions, it’s often the case that Jews don’t count. This book isn’t so much about far-right hatred, but about pernicious neglect, particularly by the political left. And he has lots of examples, from political speeches to twitter dialogues, from film reviews to football stadiums.

As a typical recent example, he cites a speech from the 2019 Labour Party Conference, where Dawn Butler listed 21 groups that would be protected from discrimination under a Labour government. It wasn’t an exhaustive list, but it was a pretty long one, which was good news “if you are black, white, Asian, if you are disabled, if you don’t have a trust fund” — but one group was conspicuously absent.

As with the Spurs response to TalkSport, Baddiel sees a hierarchy of discrimination in British society, with antisemitism occupying the lower levels. He attributes this largely to the fact that “Jews, uniquely among minorities in the west, are associated with power” (22). This way of thinking is seen most clearly in the racist mythology which labels Jews as simultaneously subhuman and powerful, as both the scum of the earth and “secretly in control of the world” (19). But, Baddiel argues, the Jew-hating far-right are not alone in according Jewish people this unique minority status.

Among progressive adherents of identity politics (Baddiel’s primary audience), Jews are often excluded from the category of “oppressed”. Their presumed position of power, stereotypically expressed in financial terms, means they don’t need “the protections of anti-racism” (25). From a racial perspective, Jews are seen as “white” and therefore privileged — ignoring the obvious fact that “racists say Jews aren’t white” (50).

These assumptions lead to antisemitism being downgraded in the hierarchy of racism. And Jews are regularly excluded entirely from discussions of race, with doubts as to whether Jewishness should even be considered an ethnicity. To quote another Labour Party example from earlier this year, there was widespread celebration when Anas Sarwar was elected as the “first ever ethnic minority leader of a political party anywhere in the UK” (Angela Rayner’s words). A good thing to celebrate — but Benjamin Disraeli, Michael Howard and Ed Miliband might dispute whether Anas Sarwar was the “first”.

This is just a snapshot of Baddiel’s argument, which he makes persuasively and passionately, if a little swearily. Some of his examples are better than others, with some of the weaker parts involving commentary on Twitter discussions he’s been in. And I don’t completely identify with the progressive audience he’s primarily writing for. But at just 28,000 words (with pictures!), it’s a short, punchy and important read.

And it’s important for Christians, because we’re also capable of having blind spots when it comes to antisemitism.

A challenge to the church

Until recently, I knew almost nothing about contemporary antisemitism, or the lived experience of British Jews. I don’t often hear Christians addressing this evil, outside of eschatological debates about the land of Israel. And this is especially surprising when we remember ways that historically, Christians have tragically embraced and excused antisemitism.

But the church should never be a place where “Jews don’t count.” And so, I’m thankful for the challenge of David Baddiel’s book as I continue to reflect on my own attitudes and ministry. There are three challenges in particular I’ve been thinking about recently.

Listening

Last year’s #BlackLivesMatter protests prompted many of us to take more time to listen carefully to those experiencing racism, both in the church and in society. Many “to-read” piles contained books by writers like Ben Lindsay, Reni Eddo-Lodge, Ibram X. Kendi, Jemar Tibsy and Robin DiAngelo. Whatever your view of those specific works, the fact that Christians are seeking to better understand the experiences of others is surely positive.

Anti-racist reading lists, though, have been very much focussed on anti-black racism. This has been important in the cultural moment we’ve found ourselves in. But are we in danger of neglecting anti-Jewish racism? Do we need to be better at listening to Jewish voices? Do I need to take more initiative to understand their experiences? If you’re not sure where to start (and don’t have any Jewish friends you can speak with) your library probably has a copy of David Baddiel’s book. I welcome other reading or listening recommendations!

Speaking

Alongside the Covid-19 and BLM coverage, another story that filled several news cycles last year was the ongoing Israel/Palestine conflict. Many Christians were speaking about this, whether from the perspective of geopolitics or eschatology or both. But far fewer were speaking about the impact this news was having on the experience of Jews in the UK, who faced a scarily significant rise in antisemitic incidents, including verbal intimidation and physical violence.

I recognise that no-one can speak, or write, or tweet about everything. But I’m concerned that churches have followed the societal trend of being too quiet on antisemitism. Do we neglect this aspect of Israel-related news? Do we need to be better at speaking? Each of us will have different opportunities to speak — whether in public or in private, whether online or offline, whether tweeting tweets or writing letters. You may already be taking advantage of these opportunities. But I know I need to continue reflecting on how I can use my voice in solidarity with British Jews.

Praying

Antisemitism is a horrific evil committed against people made in God’s image. But as Christians, we know God is with us as we stand against this evil. The Spirit is at work among us, healing divisions as people from different minorities find a home in God’s family. Our glorious Messiah, the Lord Jesus, is leading us to the climax of history when all antisemitism will be brought to an end. And until then, we have the privilege of speaking to our heavenly Father in prayer, asking that he would act — in our world, in our churches, in our hearts.

So maybe now is a good time for me to stop writing, and for you to stop reading, and for us to come together in the name of Jesus to take advantage of that privilege. May the Lord forgive us for our failings, may he lead us to act justly, and may he humble antisemitic hearts and fill them with worship of the Messiah.