Breaking Barriers

Did the Jews kill Jesus? Who (or What) on Earth Is a Jew? Are Jews White?

These are among the uncomfortable questions that have been asked about the Jewish people. Some have been spread as lies throughout history. The more sinister accusations have led to devastating consequences, while others have put Jews in uncomfortable positions, ones where they are forced to defend themselves against stereotypes and fight for their place in the world. 

In their new book “Uncomfortable Conversations with a Jew,” Emmanuel Acho and Noa Tishby tackle these questions – and much more. After the success of Acho’s bestselling book “Uncomfortable Conversations with a Black Man,” the author, a former NFL linebacker, approached Tishby and asked if she wanted to co-write a new book in the same vein, but featuring information about the Jewish community.

They set out to tackle all the taboo subjects in the Jewish world: Jews and power. Jews and money. Jews and privilege. The Black and Jewish struggle. Tishby and Acho hoped to foster unity among the Black and Jewish community, as well as reveal the truth about Jews, no matter how uncomfortable it got.

The two started working on it – Tishby was already a celebrated author with her book “Israel: A Simple Guide to the Most Misunderstood Country on Earth” – and they set out to tackle all the taboo subjects in the Jewish world: Jews and power. Jews and money. Jews and privilege. The Black and Jewish struggle. Tishby and Acho hoped to foster unity among the Black and Jewish community, as well as reveal the truth about Jews, no matter how uncomfortable it got.

“I don’t like marginalized communities fighting in siloes. I think it’s extremely inefficient. What if we collectively fought for, and with, one another? We’d be much more efficient in creating collective success.” – Emmanuel Acho

“I don’t like marginalized communities fighting in siloes,” Acho told the Journal. “I think it’s extremely inefficient. What if we collectively fought for, and with, one another? We’d be much more efficient in creating collective success.”

Acho and Tishby’s collaboration began well before Oct. 7, before the antisemitism that was always below the surface spilled over into city streets, on social media platforms and on college campuses nationwide. 

“It was a time in which the Jewish community knew there was a problem, but the outside community did not and thought we were crying wolf,” Tishby said. “They didn’t realize there was a rise in antisemitism like we did, but Emmanuel had. He saw we were in pain, and he wanted to do something about it.”

The authors set out to answer the frequently asked questions about Jews and offer facts about topics including blood libel, the Holocaust, Zionism, cultural vs. religious Judaism and accusations about the Jews from “The Protocols of the Elders of Zion,” which purports that Jews are plotting global domination. 

In the book, Tishby and Acho go back and forth, with Acho asking the questions, Tishby giving answers and both of them relating on the similarities between the Black and Jewish communities. The book addresses the antisemitism that was always there, since the beginning of time, and the harsh realities of being a Jew in a post-Oct. 7 world. 

One of the chapters that addresses a long-held antisemitic belief is the one that asks, “Did the Jews kill Jesus?” Acho starts it off by saying, “One of the most fascinating areas of tension in society, as it pertains to how the world relates to Jewish people . . . or at least how my world — being a Christian — relates to Jewish people, is the question surrounding who killed Jesus.”

Tishby answers, “Ahh. We’re going hardcore, aren’t we? I love it. Growing up in Israel, I actually had little to no exposure to Jesus. Which is sad, considering he was a local. When I moved to the U.S., though, I realized that, to some extent, Jesus’s life and death were historically the source of a good amount of antisemitism — and this was a shock to me.”

Acho talks about how he learned that “the Jews cried out for Pilate to release a man named Barabbas, who had been imprisoned for murder, and to crucify Jesus instead,” but that the Jews did not physically kill Jesus. 

Tishby asks him, “Even if Jesus had literally been physically killed by a Jew — which we all, including the former Pope, agree he wasn’t — why would another Jewish person who lived thousands of years later be blamed for that? Let’s just say for the sake of this argument that the Jews killed Jesus for real, like actually, physically put him on the cross. That still doesn’t excuse blaming an entire people for what, say, 50 Jews might have done 2,000 years ago.”

Acho agrees: “Not to mention, as a Christian, Jesus had to die. The purpose of Jesus being born was to die and become the ultimate sacrifice for all of our sins, so that everyone could have the opportunity for right-standing with God. So, who killed Jesus is a worthless argument to begin with.”

The Jesus chapter, in the context of the new post-Oct.7 reality for Jews, comes off as lighthearted. The parts of “Uncomfortable Conversations with a Jew” that contend with Oct. 7 are much more emotionally difficult to read. 

The intro to the book, which is called, “Check on Your Jewish Friends,” is about Acho’s and Tishby’s experience that tragic day. It was Friday, Oct. 6, and Acho was signing on to social media just before midnight. He saw that Tishby was going live on Instagram, which was unusual for her. 

“I tuned in, if anything to make sure she knows she’s actually on live and hasn’t hit the button accidentally or some other scandalous business, and there she is, sitting at her desk,” he says. “It’s serious. It’s tense. And she seems a little frantic.”

He watched as Tishby, clearly distraught, talked about the Hamas terrorists who had invaded Israel, her homeland, as she saw what was happening from Los Angeles, where she now lives. 

“I couldn’t make out much from what she was talking about because I had no context,” Acho said. “All I could wrap my head around was ‘Israel’s been attacked’ — but truth be told, I didn’t really know what that meant because we’ve been here before; it’s not like this is the first time we heard the words ‘Israel’ and ‘terrorist violence’ in the same sentence. And after about 20 minutes, close to midnight, I logged off.”

Tishby stayed up all night on Instagram Live, piecing together the story and giving updates to her followers. 

“These testimonies from the South of Israel were horrifying beyond imagination,” she said. “These were the same stories I’d heard from my grandparents about what had happened to them in Europe, and it was now being done to Israelis in pastoral villages and at a music festival in the south of the country.”

When Acho woke up the next morning, he saw Tishby was still live, still wearing the same clothes from the previous night, still sitting in the same spot. Throughout the day, he kept checking in on her stream from his work desk, and offered to go live with her on his Instagram to give his followers updates about what was happening. 

“I set up my computer in my office and went live. I had so many questions for Noa, but my very first was simply, ‘Are you okay?’” Acho says. 

“I was very much not okay,” Tishby responded.

The two spent an hour talking about the events unfolding, and at the end, Acho asked Tishby, “What can I do to help?” 

“Stop what you’re doing and check on your Jewish friends,” she said. 

The book continues with more on Oct. 7, with chapters like “October 8th” and “You’re Too White” touching upon it. 

Everything is out in the open; nothing is off-limits. But when readers get to Chapter 16, there comes a truly uncomfortable moment for Acho and Tishby. Titled, “How This Book Almost Didn’t Happen,” it discusses when the book looked like it was going to fall apart, right after Oct. 7. 

“There was a moment in which Emmanuel asked me to come on his platform, on ‘Uncomfortable Conversations’ [on YouTube], and he invited another person I was not happy with – a person who is extremely radical,” Tishby said. “It exploded. The entire project exploded.”

Acho’s channel featured Tishby as a guest to talk about what was going on in Israel, and he told her that he was going to film a second interview with a historian and Middle East expert to explain how “we got to where we were at,” Tishby says in the book. 

“Then you sent me the trailer and, Emmanuel, I was devastated,” she continues. “You had edited me into a trailer for the interview not with an expert, but with a Palestinian woman who is a well-known anti-Israel activist and who, on Oct. 7, while bodies were still bleeding, justified Hamas’s actions, saying, among other things, that the number of dead Israeli women, children, and men is ‘bean counting.’ She rejected the description of the atrocities as ‘barbarism’ and appeared to defend the actions of Hamas, a designated terrorist organization.”

Though the book doesn’t state who the woman is, Acho had interviewed Noura Erakat, an attorney and associate professor of international studies, who in the past stated that Israel is on a “depraved pursuit of wealth and privilege.” 

Tishby was disappointed that one week after Oct. 7, Acho had interviewed Erakat, seemingly because there was pressure from his audience. 

“To be brutally honest, it felt like you were covering yourself with your followers by having both of us on,” Tishby said. “Putting me on a split screen with a woman who insisted on calling the members of Hamas who had raped women and burned babies ‘militants’ rather than ‘terrorists.’ It was too much for me. And the book collaboration ended.”

Eventually, after some time passed, and they both processed what happened, they decided to resume the book, and to accomplish something bigger that was obviously necessary. “It was very real and raw, and we learned a lot,” Tishby said. 

The two explored why they acted the way they did – Acho explained he wanted to hear the “pain and hurt on both sides” and Tishby admitted that she felt like she couldn’t trust Acho anymore. Eventually, after some time passed, and they both processed what happened, they decided to resume the book, and to accomplish something bigger that was obviously necessary.

“It was very real and raw, and we learned a lot,” Tishby said. “After we came through it, and decided the existence of the book is so important, we sat down and started the process again. That allowed us to grow so much. Anybody who reads the book now says that moment is the most revealing, gripping and intense part of it. They ask, ‘How are you guys still friends after this?’”

It’s clear: The two are comfortable being uncomfortable. 

This is certainly obvious in the chapters on the question of Jews’ whiteness, which is especially prevalent now, when Jews are being called white oppressors who commit genocide and aim to ethically cleanse Gazans. 

Chapter 5, “Sooo, Are Jews White?,” doesn’t shy away from the race issues in America and the tension between the Black and Jewish communities. 

Acho said to Tishby, “In America, my Jewish brothers and sisters have the privilege of being perceived as white. Historically, they have not been discriminated against in America based upon the color of their skin; they did not have to suffer Jim Crow laws, or public abuse without justice at the hands of the police. So, when Jewish people in America say that they are not white, it sounds to me like they’re trying to have it both ways. They get the benefits of being members of the oppressive class while also claiming minority membership.”

Tishby responded that to some people, Jews are not white enough, and to others, Jews are “too white.” She talks about how some Eastern European Jews are white-passing, but how they have historically been discriminated against in the U.S. and were only allowed to integrate into white society over the past two generations, assuming they had, “done their best to assimilate, or blend in with the way they dressed, spoke and lived. It was kinda like ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ for Jews.”

“I hear that, and I don’t disagree,” Acho said. “But I still wrestle with the fact that a Black person has to worry about inherent disrespect and daily danger by law enforcement, and you don’t—and I think that’s a point of great tension.”

Tishby validates his concern, and tells him, “I don’t have to worry about being shot if I run a stop sign, whereas you do,” but then goes on to elaborate how perceiving all Jews as white diminishes the experience of Moroccan, Iranian, Israeli or other non-white Jews “who resent the idea of Jewish whiteness to the core.”

The conversation goes on for another two chapters, where Tishby discusses all the different parts of the world where Jews ended up, details the diversity of the community and explains how Jews have been hurt, even when they’ve assimilated, because they were perceived as being too white.

“Many Jews are both white-passing and our experience can only fully be understood through the prism of ongoing persecution, expulsion and execution,” Tishby says. “Plus, the collective trauma of what’s been done—plus, the never-disappearing anxiety of what could come next.”

Along with the conversational question and answer part of the book, “Uncomfortable Conversations with a Jew” offers resources for readers, like other books they should check out, a glossary of Jewish terms, people they can follow on social media and information on how they can be an ally, especially during these trying times. 

As an ally to Tishby and the Jewish community, Acho has gotten flak from both his followers and those on the pro-Palestinian side. Recently, he went out to dinner, and as he left the restaurant, he heard someone say, “I hope they pay you well.” He leaned into this person, who was a woman, and didn’t break eye contact, even though she was covering her face and head with a scarf.  

Acho asked, ‘Who is they?’” 

“You know who. The Zionists.”

Acho exhaled and said, “I am not pro- or anti-, I am pro-the goodness of all people. I’m not against Palestinians. I speak truth, love and humanity.”

He asked the woman what her name was, and she replied, “You don’t deserve my name.” He then told her to have a good evening.

“If this woman was bold enough to speak to me in this manner, what else might she be bold enough to do?” Acho said. 

Tishby was blown away by this. “Look at what happened. Emmanuel experienced an antisemitic attack that went to the oldest trope in the book. What would she do to a Jew who’s not 6’2″ and over 200 pounds? How aggressive would she get?”

It’s a harsh reality that Jews are living in, but both Acho and Tishby believe that sitting down and talking is the key to tackling the issues of today.

“Truth, love and grace are the best way to have a conversation. When you approach with love, that’s the best way to move a heart.” – Emmanuel Acho

“I always approach with love, because you catch more flies with honey than vinegar,” Acho said. “Truth, love and grace are the best way to have a conversation. When you approach with love, that’s the best way to move a heart.”

For Tishby, co-writing “Uncomfortable Conversations with a Jew” was her way of trying to solve problems, educate others and give her Jewish community support and guidance … something that’s absolutely necessary post-Oct. 7. 

“The remedy is always communication,” she said. “We needed to show people how to have these conversations. The only way out is to go through it. This is one example of how to do it, how to discuss Judaism and Zionism and all these things.”

She continued, “Jewish college and high school students ask me, ‘How do I answer to this? How do I answer to that?’ ‘When someone challenges me about Zionism, what do I say?’ This book is for the Jewish community to learn to have these conversations. Know your facts, and go through it. Have a conversation.” 

Kylie Ora Lobell is the Community Editor of the Jewish Journal.