NEITHER ANTI-SEMITISM NOR ANTI-PALESTINIAN BIGOTRY BELONG IN THE CHURCH—OR SOCIETY

A Reflection by Jesse Steven Wheeler

In Western discourses surrounding Palestine and Israel, it has become increasingly common to equate criticism of the Israeli state with antisemitism. As measures are taken to enshrine such associations in policy, dissenting voices are often rebuked as antisemitic. Nowhere is this found more acute than in the campaign for governments and institutions to adopt the IHRA Working Definition of Anti-Semitism, a definition “designed to silence criticism of Israel and of Zionism by equating this criticism with antisemitism.” In recent years, the British Labor Party has been rocked by such accusations under the past leadership of Jeremy Corbyn. In France, Emmanuel Macron’s government has made moves to criminalize “anti-Zionism” as a form of antisemitism, while organizations in Germany have had their assets frozen. In the US at least 32 states have enacted laws or pursued legislation to sanction individuals or groups that support boycotting Israel. This has already resulted in people having been terminated from their jobs. Meanwhile those congresspersons who denounce such legislation, Rashida Tlaib and Ilhan Omar for instance, have been roundly condemned by their own party leadership for trading in “antisemitic tropes and prejudicial accusations.”

It must be affirmed in no uncertain terms that antisemitism is real. It is dangerous. And, it has been an ongoing stain within the western cultural inheritance for millennia. It is on the rise. And, it must be condemned wherever it is found. Discussions surrounding Israel and Palestine have unfortunately been tainted too often by antisemitic rhetoric. It must also be affirmed, however, that anti-Palestinian bigotry is itself an almost unacknowledged force of its own. It exists within the halls of power and it too must be brought to light and condemned, especially as it is the Palestinians who are daily suffering under military occupation, in the squalor of refugee camps, or in the limbo of statelessness and exile.

What I see underlying this discourse is a conflict of definitions. For this reason, it is of critical importance to clarify definitions in discussions about Israel/Palestine. Otherwise, that which one intends to say will not be read as such by another. Key to this discussion is the definition of antisemitism as it relates to anti-Zionism. While Western leaders are increasingly defining criticism of Israeli policy as antisemitic, other groups have denounced in Zionism what they see as an inherently racist and supremacist ideology. Journalist Jonathan Cook, in differentiating between antisemitism and anti-Zionism, writes,

Antisemitism refers to the hatred of Jews. It is bigotry, plain and simple.

Anti-Zionism, on the other hand, is opposition to the political ideology of Zionism, a movement that has insisted in all its political guises on prioritising the rights of Jews to a homeland over those, the Palestinians, who were already living there.

Anti-Zionism is not racism against Jews; it is opposition to racism by Zionist Jews.

Of course, an anti-Zionist may also be antisemitic, but it is more likely that an anti-Zionist holds his or her position for entirely rational and ethical reasons.

In fact, post-Zionist Jewish activists are oftentimes those most vocal in their opposition to Israeli treatment of Palestinians, as seen in the examples of Mondoweiss, Jewish Voice for Peace, If Not Now, Breaking the Silence, B’Tselem, the writings of Mark Ellis, Brant Rosen, Lynn Gottlieb, and others.

Yet, whose definition counts?

Jewish pain is real, and it must be acknowledged and accounted for. Palestinians, of course, deny historical responsibility for such pain, seeing it as a European sin, the consequences of which they have had forced upon them as a colonized people. They are often desperate for their story to be told and their own ongoing suffering acknowledged. For to relay the history of manifest destiny without including the Native American perspective, the “white man’s burden” without the perspective of the non-white man (or woman), or the mission civilisatrice without the perspective of those having had “civilization” forced upon them, one cannot, paraphrasing writer and analyst Robert Cohen, speak of Zionism without considering the Palestinian perspective. That is unless you have a priori assumed the illegitimacy of the Palestinian perspective as one worthy of consideration. “If we want to be serious, rather than tribal, about a fair definition of Zionism,” writes Cohen, “we need to ask the Palestinian people what they think and believe and feel about it. And if they tell us ‘Zionism is a racist endeavor’ we’d better pay attention.”

Theological Reflections

To reiterate: Anti-Semitism is real, dangerous and on the rise. And, it must be condemned wherever it is found. At the same time, anti-Palestinian bigotry is itself powerful force that too must be condemned in no uncertain terms.

What must be acknowledged is that the same people who for the same reasons would and should decry anti-Semitism wherever it is found, are the same people who would and should decry anti-Palestinian, anti-Arab or anti-Muslim bigotry, as an affront to our common humanity as image bearers of the divine, as an affront to our common viceregency, an affront to our common commitment to universal human rights, and an affront to intersectional solidarity with all those facing oppression–however one prefers to frame the discourse.

To assert the rights of one group, whilst simultaneously denying those of another is an affront to the monotheist vision, the existence of a single, universally sovereign God. There exists either liberty and justice for all, or liberty and justice for none. In the immortal words of Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr.,

Injustice everywhere is a threat to injustice anywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly.

My rights do not negate the rights of another, nor can I pursue my rights at the expense of another. For my liberation is inextricably bound with that of the other, to paraphrase aboriginal activist Lilla Watson.

What, then, can Christians do about this? The first step, and I speak here as a western Christian, is repentance and confession; the second is restitution. We are complicit. Our hands are bloody. Our prejudices, buttressed often by our theologies, have resulted both directly and indirectly, actively and passively, in the deaths of millions through our pogroms and our colonial conquests alike. Jew and Palestinian alike.

We must return to our better selves, to the teachings of our king Jesus for whom both empathy and justice walk hand in hand. The pain of the other must become our own, as we give of ourselves in working towards a world without walls where all might one day experience the divine peace of God’s kingdom.