The collective Jew: Israel and the new antisemitism

For Theodor Herzl, Zionism, in the sense of a political movement to establish a sovereign Jewish state, offered the only workable solution to the problem of antisemitism. Some commentators today speak of a 'new anti-Semitism'. They claim, first, that there is a new wave or outbreak of hostility towards Jews that began with the start of the second Palestinian intifada in September 2000 and is continuing at the present time. Second, and more fundamentally, the 'new anti-Semitism' is said to involve a new form or type of hostility towards Jews: hostility towards Israel. This is the claim under discussion in Klug's paper. The claim implies an equivalence between (a) the individual Jew in the old or classical version of antisemitism and (b) the state of Israel in the new or modern variety. Klug argues that this concept is confused and that the use to which it is put gives a distorted picture of the facts. He begins by recalling classical antisemitism, the kind that led to the persecution of European Jewry to which Herzl's Zionism was a reaction. On this basis, he briefly reformulates the question of whether and when hostility towards Israel is antisemitic. He then discusses the so-called new form of antisemitism, especially the equation of anti-Zionism with antisemitism. He concludes by revisiting Herzl's vision in light of the situation today.     

The antisemitism of Henry Wickham Steed

ABSTRACT

Henry Wickham Steed (1871–1956), then editor-in-chief of the London Times, adopted an ambiguous position with regard to The Protocols of the Elders of Zion when the tract first appeared in English in 1920. He neither endorsed nor rejected it but instead mused in the editorial pages of The Times about whether it might be authentic. The following year, when The Times correspondent in Istanbul brought out proof that The Protocols was a forgery, Steed accepted his correspondent's findings and publicly retracted his earlier ambivalent position. This incident reflects on Steed's (deserved) reputation as an antisemite but it also suggests something of the complexity of his position. Steed's denunciations of Jewish influence, discovered, by his own account, through his experience as a foreign correspondent in Vienna before the First World War, are recurrent in his writings. At the same time, Steed lent strong support to Zionist aspirations at the time of the Balfour Declaration and thereafter, and, in the 1930s, he was among the very first English critics of Hitler's antisemitism. In this article, I propose to offer some hypotheses regarding Steed's antisemitism. Strange as it may sound in the wake of the Second World War, it was Steed's visceral Germanophobia that lay at the heart of his antisemitism. Until the advent of the Third Reich, Steed identified Jews with Germans and with German interests. As an ardent exponent of the ‘principle of nationality’, however, Steed consistently extended his advocacy of statehood for various Eastern European nationalities to the Jewish national cause. A final factor that helps to explain Steed's suspiciousness and gullibility is that, by disposition and as a lifelong journalist, he was drawn to conspiracy theories. He created a number of sensations in his career and, to return to the example of The Protocols, he was loath to discount so spectacular a conspiracy story.     

Books

An examination of Mann's literary works and his personality reveals a complex attitude to fews. Literary antisemitism was common in his novels and stories but during his lifetime he denounced antisemitism and joined forces with Jewish organizations to fight Nazism.     

The ‘Post-Holocaust Jew’ and the Instrumentalization of Philosemitism

Abstract

Altfelix attempts to examine and explain why xenophiles are politically prone to an ambivalent re-utilization of xenophobic images of the Other. In Germany both ‘the Jew’ and ‘the Ausländer’ have been instrumentalized xenophilically in their capacity as abstract notions by certain system actors and publics in a manner which appears to shed more light on the in-group than the Other. Xenophilia as a self-oriented, positive in-group evaluation may be identified as particularly evident in the post-war German political discourse on the Holocaust. In similar fashion to antisemitism, philosemitism represents an ‘allosemitic’ (Bauman) abstraction of ‘the Jew’, whose evocation is comparable to the idea of a ‘good foreigner’ as expressed in Ausländerfreundlichkeit (foreigner-friendliness). Xenophilia/philosemitism—like xenophobia/antisemitism—is dependent upon a relative opposition between ‘concretized Self’ and ‘abstracted Other’. Altfelix argues that this relationship emerges for two reasons. First, manifestations of xenophilia are generally preceded by bouts of xenophobia. Consequently, some publics may identify a need for creating a positive in-group focus. In this, the Other must not become too concrete for fear of distracting attention away from the xenophile's agenda. Second, the difference between Self and Other must be effectively maintained, since the xenophile's raison d'être depends upon it. Post-war German philosemitism appears to be a good exemplar for this definition of ‘xenophilia’. It demonstrates the dangers of moving within an allosemitic cycle in which difference becomes a method of keeping otherness at bay through abstraction. The fear of a misremembrance of the Holocaust resulting from an abstract memorialization seems to provide a very solid political basis for perpetuating a philosemitic identity construction of ‘the Jew’ as abstracted Other.     

Nixon and the Jews

ABSTRACT

In public the 37th President of the United States did not express hostility or disparagement, or show any signs of religious prejudice towards Jews. But inside the White House, Richard M. Nixon's remarks were often scurrilous. His antisemitism was not casual; it was close to compulsive. And it could be coupled with other seething grievances, for example, towards liberals, radicals, the media, Blacks and Italian-Americans. Yet Nixon controlled his antisemitism. It had no adverse effect on Jewish life, either at home or abroad. The malice that he nurtured remained unmobilized. Apart from a few limited personnel instances (mostly but not completely ignored by Nixon's underlings), it is impossible to connect private resentment to public policy, probably because the barriers to the expression of antisemitism in the United States have been so high. The ugliness of his utterances in the Oval Office revealed his character, but did not extend outward to shape the processes of governance. A disconnect can therefore be discerned between what he felt and how he acted. Most American Jews voted for Nixon's Democratic opponents in 1968 and 1972. But even Jews who voted against him, even those who loathed him, have often acknowledged that Nixon's policies fortified the security of Israel; and he was proud of his support for the Jewish state during the Yom Kippur War. What betrayed Nixon, and what forced him to resign the presidency, was his decision to instal a secret taping system in the Oval Office. When the tapes were played in 1974, he showed himself to be conspiring to obstruct justice. In subsequent years, further exposure of the tapes revealed the extent and intensity of Nixon's antipathy to Jews. The expletives that had to be deleted did much to besmirch the dignity of the office. But such was the stigma the political culture attached to antisemitism that, had his bigotry become public before 1968, Nixon's career would have been over.     

Normalization of antisemitism, 1880–1900: the case of a Jesuit community in Rome

The significance of the political antisemitism of the 1880s and 1890s for developments in the twentieth century remains controversial. Researchers have been divided as to whether the antisemitism of the nineteenth century, or even earlier, was one of the factors that made the Holocaust possible, or whether it was a phenomenon with little or no relevance for subsequent events. The decline of most antisemitic political parties at the beginning of the twentieth century appears to support the latter point of view. Yet some commentators, such as Shulamit Volkov and Peter Pulzer, have convincingly suggested that the importance of nineteenth-century antisemitism lies less in the political fortunes of antisemitic parties than in the way antisemitism came to penetrate civil society. Thus, they have argued, antisemitism came to form a component of a widespread conservative and anti-liberal world-view. Following Pulzer and Volkov, it might be desirable to investigate the processes by which antisemitism could have been transformed from an extremist political position into a common element in the outlook of broad portions of European society: mechanisms that have remained largely unexplored. Dahl's article studies the normalization of antisemitism in the two last decades of the nineteenth century through a scrutiny of shifts in the attitudes to Jews of a restricted group of Italian Jesuits. The analysis is based on a detailed study of La Civiltà Cattolica, a Jesuit community in Rome that published a journal of the same name. Since its foundation in 1850 this institution has been an authoritative exponent of Catholic policy and is generally perceived as having been a protagonist in the formulation of a Catholic stance towards the ‘Jewish question’ in the later nineteenth century. Dahl shows that, while in the early 1880s, most members resisted or opposed the use of antisemitic propaganda, through the following two decades the attitudes of virtually all of them became tinged with antisemitism, supporting the hypothesis that antisemitism became part of a widespread ‘culture’. In his analysis, Dahl does not focus on the wider circulation of ideas that influenced the Roman Jesuits, but on the dynamics within the institution that made possible the gradual acceptance of antisemitism, arguing that a debate over antisemitism among the Jesuits in the early 1880s was a crucial moment in this development. As they failed at this early stage to formulate an anti-antisemitic response, they allowed antisemitism to become part of the culture of their institution, and rendered its later rejection practically impossible.     

Jews in the Christian Gaze: Munich's Churches before and after Hitler

Abstract

Kauders sets out to examine three interrelated topics: the nature of antisemitism after the Second World War; the continuity in thinking about the Jews in the twentieth century; and the problem of responsibility inherent in any analysis of the events surrounding the Holocaust. In what follows, emphasis is placed on the Catholic and Protestant churches in the Bavarian capital of Munich, whose reactions to Jew-hatred before 1933 and after 1945 are studied in some detail. Several conclusions emerge from this investigation. Both churches embraced völkisch thinking before 1933, without approving of violent manifestations of racialist thought. Both Catholics and Protestants, whenever they defended the Jews before the rise of Hitler, did so in order to safeguard Christian dogma, and in particular the value of the Old Testament as well as the Jewish origins of Jesus and Paul. After 1945 clerics employed language that ignored events between 1933 and 1945, describing the ‘Jewish question’ as if the issue was still embedded in Weimar politics; they did so because they assumed that a majority of Germans had been innocent of any wrongdoing, so that a pre-1933 image of ‘the Jew’ (which did not allow for extremism and violence) could be re-adopted with impunity after 1945. Christian views began to change in the late 1950s and early 1960s, when Jews were increasingly seen as Others who were to be respected as such. Although German-Jewish irreconcilability was thereby cemented, this shift also entailed an acceptance as opposed to a denial of the Jew as different from Christians and ‘Germans’.     

The use of antisemitism in the Spanish Civil War

The Spanish Civil War saw an outburst of antisemitism in the Nationalist-controlled areas of the peninsula and in the Moroccan protectorate, an antisemitism influenced by the work of ultra-right-wing intellectuals associated with the Acción Española review. All the factions of the Nationalist camp interpreted the civil war as a crusade against the 'Jewish-Masonic-Bolshevist' conspiracy. In mainland Spain, where there were only a few Jewish families, antisemitism was largely confined to the written word. In this way, it was used mostly as a rhetorical tool to attack the Nationalists' real and imaginary enemies: the Republican forces, the French and the Soviets. Although there was no systemic persecution of the Jews, some aggressive acts took place in Seville and Barcelona. The situation of the larger Jewish community in Spanish Morocco was quite different. The Moroccan Jews were adversely affected by the Nationalists' efforts to enlist the support of the Muslim population against the Republicans and by the German presence in the protectorate. They were also victimized by the Falangists who confiscated their property and imposed heavy fines on them. The military authorities of Morocco tried to restrain these excesses as they realized that blatant antisemitism could hurt the rebels' image abroad. They also believed that Jewish wealth and connections could serve the Nationalist cause.     

Rebuttal versus Unmasking: Legal Strategy in R. v. Zundel

Conventional scholarly wisdom has it that most Italian Americans in the United States were loyal supporters of the policies of Fascism in the inter-war years but eventually rejected the antisemitic measures that Benito Mussolini's regime adopted in their ancestral country in 1938. Contrary to such an interpretation, Luconi argues that many Italian Americans themselves held antisemitic attitudes and, therefore, did not distance themselves from Fascism after Mussolini launched his campaign against Italian Jews. He also contends that these attitudes resulted less from an ideological commitment to Fascism than from both the strained relations between Italian Americans and Jewish Americans, and the antisemitic climate of opinion that characterized American society in the 1930s. Italian Americans and Jews were partners in the labour movement and the Democratic Party. Yet the former resented the latter's distrust in Italian Americans' labour militancy, as well as the earlier rise of Jews in the hierarchies of the unions and the Democratic Party. Furthermore, Italian Americans and Jews competed for jobs, political patronage, cheap housing and relief benefits, especially during the Depression years. Such ethnic rivalries and the appeal of right-wing organizations to Italian Americans contributed to make the latter prone to antisemitism. As a result, few Americans of Italian descent came out against the racial policy of the Fascist regime.     

Hannah Arendt's analysis of antisemitism in The Origins of Totalitarianism: a critical appraisal

ABSTRACT

Hannah Arendt's seminal work The Origins of Totalitarianism begins with an extended study of the history of antisemitism. Many of Arendt's arguments in this groundbreaking text have been challenged by other scholars. Examining the chief contours of Arendt's account of the rise of modern antisemitism, Staudenmaier offers detailed reasons for approaching her conclusions sceptically while appreciating the book's other virtues. Arendt's repeated reliance on antisemitic sources, her inconsistent analysis of assimilation, her overstated distinction between social and political dimensions of anti-Jewish sentiment, and her emphasis on partial Jewish responsibility for antisemitism indicate fundamental problems with her interpretation of the historical record. A thorough critical appraisal of Arendt's argument offers an opportunity for both her admirers and her detractors to come to terms concretely with the contradictory aspects of her historical legacy.     

Hailing Hitler with the Red Hand: The Link in Northern Ireland 1937–40

Loughlin's article assesses the activities of The Link, a British pro-Nazi organization promoting Anglo-German conciliation in Northern Ireland in the years leading up to the Second World War. It situates the Ulster branch of the movement within the context of the domestic politics of the region, the British state, Anglo-Irish relations and wider European developments. As a field of activity for The Link, Northern Ireland posed unique and complex problems. The regional branch's prospects for development were complicated, for instance, by how, for nationalists, the aggression of Nazi domestic and foreign policies was reflected in the Northern Ireland government's domestic policies, and also in the way in which Nazi policy towards religion alienated the region’s Catholic and Protestant communities. Loughlin also illustrates how the government's approach towards the local Jewish community and Jewish refugees—in a region largely without the levels of antisemitism found in both British and southern Irish public opinion—was informed by a combination of sympathy and local political considerations. Perhaps most uniquely, he illuminates the singularity of the Ulster branch within The Link organization, especially the attitude of its chairman, Admiral Sir Barry Domvile, who regarded Northern Ireland as an obstacle to the establishment of an effective Anglo-Irish defence policy and wished to see the region united with Eire.     

Reviews

The recent discourse on ‘new antisemitism’ and the Israeli-Palestinian conflict sometime gives the impression that Europe is fundamentally and irredeemably antisemitic. Klug maintains that, while there is a persistent vein of antisemitism in the culture, and while there is evidence of an increase in anti-Jewish attacks since 2000, this perception of Europe is exaggerated. He argues that it is part of a mindset that tends to overstate hostility towards Israel and Jews, or to assume that this hostility is antisemitic, or both. Often this goes along with a tendency to connect antisemitism, via anti-Zionism, with anti-Americanism. Klug believes that notion of a mindset, Klug turns to the question of definition, examining the view that antisemitism is indefinitely mutable. Invoking recent work on the subject, he suggests that at the core of antisemitism is the stock figure of the ‘Jew’. This gives us a criterion with which to judge whether or not a given text—including an attack on Israel or Zionism—is antisemitic. On the basis of the analysis so far, Klug critiques the view that hostility to Israel in general is a new twist on an old antisemitic theme. In this connection, he discussed a 2003 Eurobarometer opinion poll in which 59 per cent of respondents said that Israel is a ‘threat to peace in the world’. Some see this as proof that Europe is antisemitic; Klug rejects this interpretation and traces it back to the mindset he has describing. He argues that people in the grip of this mindset tend to take a one-sided view of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. This can lead to ‘antisemitism in reverse’: projecting the figure of the antisemite on to someone who does not fit the bill. Klug concludes that the prospects for the European debate on antisemitism are poor unless it can be disentangled from partisan Middle East politics.     

Asians in black Africa between the millstones

In H. G. Wells's vision of a Utopian world state, a separate Jewish culture represented a corrupt and reactionary impediment to progress and order. Wells stopped short of advocating annihilation but he blamed the existence of antisemitism on the Jew's failure to assimilate to the universalist mainstream.     

From apathy to obsession: the reactions of A. K. Chesterton and the British far right to imperial decline

ABSTRACT

Mulhall sets out to explain how, contrary to what one might expect, imperial decline was rarely a pressing issue for the British far right, usually falling below both the perceived threats of Communism and immigration on their list of priorities. By first explaining these unexpected findings and then placing them in an international comparative context, new evidence emerges that supports those imperial historians who subscribe to the ‘minimal impact’ orthodoxy regarding the effect of empire on the metropole. In addition, however, those aspects of the radical right that did concern themselves with imperial decline, namely A. K. Chesterton and the League of Empire Loyalists, are explored in depth, revealing a peculiarly British form of conspiratorial antisemitism that blamed imperial decline on secret Jewish power. This strand of conspiracy thinking, best articulated by Chesterton, is traced back to its origin so as to illuminate the continuity of ideas and ideologies between the interwar and post-war periods within the British far right. The result is an article that contributes to several existing historiographical debates and provides an exploration of a less well-known aspect of the work of A. K. Chesterton and conspiratorial antisemitism more generally.     

Whitehall and the Refugees: The 1930s and the 1990s

Abstract

In this paper, originally presented on the occasion of the launch of her book concerning British immigration policy towards Jewish refugees from 1933 to 1948, London compares that past with present British immigration policy and attitudes towards it. She argues, above all, that the same worry about the long-term effects of immigration—that is, that refugees would settle in the country and not return home or move on—that very much influenced the tendency to inhibit aid to Jewish refugees in the 1930s and 1940s, is still very much alive today. While the legal situation of refugees and the kinds of persecution from which they seek refuge are different in the two periods in question, the 1930s and the 1990s—there are now, for instance, international conventions on refugees to which Britain is a signatory—British immigration policies of both periods are marked by many of the same priorities and many of the same attitudes towards and perceptions of refugees. In closing, she sounds a warning that an understanding of the past, crucial as it is, should not be mistakenly used to justify a lack of humanity in the present.     

So what's new? Rethinking the ‘new antisemitism’ in a global age

ABSTRACT

Judaken discusses the various strands that constitute the so-called ‘new antisemitism’. He argues that this is not the first time a new crisis of antisemitism has been heralded. Indeed, in the wake of every major struggle in the Arab-Israeli conflict since the Six Day War, prominent scholars and advocates have sounded the alarm about a crisis resulting from the rise of what they designated a ‘new antisemitism’. Moreover, what writers point to as the vectors of the new antisemitism—Holocaust denial, the antisemitism of the extreme left, antisemitism in the Islamic world, anti-Zionism as antisemitism, even anti-racism as antisemitism—all have a fairly long history. What has changed are the role of information technologies and the geo-global context in which they function. These technologies have both facilitated the global dissemination of antisemitism as well as furnishing new means of combatting it. At bottom, this electronic warfare is both a symptom and a cause of the global forces at work in antisemitism today. After delineating the constellation of factors in the rise of global antisemitism post-September 2000, Judaken then draws on the work of Léon Poliakov, Judith Butler, Jean-Paul Sartre and the Frankfurt School, among others, to assess what Pierre-André Taguieff most aptly calls the ‘new Judaeophobia’.     

Neville Laski,Anglo-Jewry and the crises of the 1930s

ABSTRACT

Neville Laski, president of the Board of Deputies of British Jews from 1932 to 1939, led Anglo-Jewry through the most challenging period in its modern history. Internally, the community was deeply divided, with half a century of mass immigration placing great strain on its pre-existing structures and institutions, and particularly the traditional elites who controlled them. Externally, it faced the unprecedented threat of an emerging domestic fascist movement, while also dealing with the consequences of growing antisemitic persecution in continental Europe. Despite playing a leading role in responding to these developments, Laski has received remarkably little attention from historians. Where he has, the consensus is that he failed to rise to the challenges of the 1930s, acting as an impediment to internal reform and remaining complacent and ineffective in his response to antisemitism. Drawing on a range of contemporary sources, Tilles’s article offers a comprehensive reassessment of Laski’s role. It argues that he acted as a transitional figure between the rule of the old, anglicized elites and the new immigrant community, seeking to balance the demands of competing factions. Meanwhile, his defence policy against antisemitism was not only active and effective, but eventually saw all major sections of Anglo-Jewry unite behind his leadership in this area.     

John Amery: the antisemitism of the 'perfect English gentleman'

Copsey explores the antisemitism of John Amery, the fascist renegade who along with William Joyce was hanged for treason after the Second World War. Like Joyce, Amery was a radio propagandist who made a series of war-time broadcasts from Berlin. Beyond this, he also tried to enlist British POWs to fight against the Soviets on the Eastern Front. Amery was the son of a senior British cabinet minister and yet, compared with Joyce, he has received little serious attention. What has been written about Amery tends to denude him of any ideological sophistication and presents him as a rather farcical figure, an irresponsible and foolhardy adventurer who was motivated by a simple fear of Communism. Copsey departs significantly from these standard representations and, using Amery's radio broadcasts and much-neglected propagandistic writings, shows the extent to which antisemitism became Amery's core obsession. Attentive to the ways in which an upper-class background influenced Amery's thinking, Copsey delineates the contours of his virulent antisemitism. What this article reveals is that, beneath the surface charm of the 'perfect English gentleman', Amery's hatred of Jews was deeply rooted in conspiracy theory and racial ideology. Despite all this, one cannot escape the curious fact that Amery's father was half-Jewish. On this point, Copsey examines whether Amery's passionate antisemitism was also psychologically driven.     

Fighting antisemitism with numbers in early twentieth-century Britain

ABSTRACT

In the 1920s and 1930s, the Jewish Health Organization of Great Britain (JHOGB) and its president, Redcliffe Nathan Salaman, championed the collection and analysis of demographic data about the Anglo-Jewish community as a way to counter rising antisemitism. In this article, Endelman discusses the belief in the ability of statistical research to undermine lies and distortions about the Jews of Britain that rested on untested Enlightenment assumptions about human nature and the sources of human behaviours and sentiments. While the JHOGB’s faith in statistical research as a bulwark of counter-propaganda never faltered, and while it obtained funding for a handful of projects, it failed to convince the leaders of Anglo-Jewry of the necessity to create and support a permanent statistical bureau. With the onset of the Second World War, the organization ceased its work, as more pressing communal priorities, especially caring for refugees from Nazism, rose to the fore.     

‘The clash of races’ and ‘the Jewish intelligence’: a specifically French form of social antisemitism

The phenomenon of ‘social antisemitism’ is well known. By the beginning of the twentieth century, however, an idiosyncratic variant had emerged in France. Where, elsewhere, social antisemitism tended to be ingrained and unthinking, this French variant was (typically) more theoretical, and its practitioners tended to be among the most prominent authors and thinkers. It stressed the essential cultural differences between the ‘French’ and the ‘Israelites’, and the ‘separateness’ of the Jews within France, and also developed a series of facile generalizations about the essentially inferior nature of the Jewish intellect. Griffiths examines this phenomenon, both for its characteristics and for its widespread existence in French intellectual circles, by taking a specific subject: the reception of Lacretelle’s 1922 novel Silbermann. A wide range of writers and critics—a number of whom had in other circumstances a reputation for liberal values and attitudes, and had been among those who had deplored the excesses of the antisemitic mob during the Dreyfus affair—are found to echo the views put forward by Lacretelle in that novel, and even to elaborate on them. Many of these writers were to adopt a completely different attitude towards the Jews after the Second World War; when the position of the Jews was fully realized, their earlier ‘social antisemitism’ proved less powerful than their human sympathies. But this is not to devalue the importance of the danger posed by social antisemitism, which could provide the basis for far more virulent forms of racism to flourish.