February 9, 2022

I didn’t want to write about Whoopi Goldberg this week. In a world in which anti-Semitism is flourishing, in which Jewish college students are facing increasingly hostile treatment on their campuses, and where Iran’s progress toward a nuclear weapon is accelerating, a 20th century comedian’s thoughts about the Holocaust is well down my list of concerns.

But Caryn Elaine Johnson, who tried out the stage name “Whoopi Cushion” before settling on Goldberg, is still worth some of our attention. Her suggestion that the Nazis’ persecution of millions of Jews was not racism probably reflected her intellectual laziness rather than any actual malice. But it still reflects a legitimate and menacing challenge for the Jewish community, especially as it relates to our weakened relationship with other, more commonly designated minority groups.

Goldberg pushed back against her co-hosts on a recent episode of “the View” by summarizing the Holocaust in the following manner:

“But these are two white groups of people!”

Later that day, while attempting to clean up the damage, she expanded on this idea with talk show host Steven Colbert: “Most of the Nazis were white people and most of the people they were attacking were white people. So to me, I’m thinking, ‘How can you say it’s about race when you’re fighting each other?’

To be fair, Goldberg did make it clear she thought that one group of white people killing six million other white people was a bad thing. But the language she used as a substitute for racism — “man’s inhumanity to man” — implies that this was a random act that could have been perpetuated against anyone of any heritage, as opposed to specifically targeted hatred toward a particular group (religion, tribe, race) of people. Like Jews or Blacks.

Goldberg has done our community a great service: she has reminded us how much of the hard work of education still remains ahead of us.

Goldberg eventually apologized, but her original comments reflect a prevailing attitude in many underrepresented communities which embody a growing threat to all Jews. The idea that the Jewish people can no longer be considered a target of prejudice or hate after attaining some level of economic, professional or academic success that many of us have achieved has led many to the conclusion that Jews are somehow less deserving of protection from vitriol, abuse and violence. Further, it leads to a widening belief that both Jews and the Jewish state are oppressors against other marginalized communities, which in turn has created ruptures on the political left and increased danger for Jewish people everywhere.

When ugly nationalism on the far-right morphs into abject anti-Semitism, it is widely and loudly denounced from the Jewish community and our allies. But when liberal anti-Zionism oozes into the same type of anti-Semitism, our protests seem much lonelier and more isolated. I’ve written in these pages many times in the past that Jews must devote much more time and effort to rebuilding past alliances with other marginalized communities that have withered from lack of attention. Goldberg’s ignorance shows us the inevitable result of what happens when we fail to develop relationships with those who would benefit from a better understanding of our history.

But Goldberg’s seeming lack of enthusiasm for such an ongoing conversation is by far the most discouraging aspect of this entire ridiculous episode. After her apology, Goldberg concluded her conversation with Colbert with these dismissive words:

“Don’t write me anymore, I know how you feel. I’ll take your word for it and never bring it up again.”

In other words, she just wanted this entire unpleasant experience to go away. Goldberg hosts a television program that equates celebrity with knowledge: she simply thought she was going to be glib and woke in a way that her audience has come to expect from her. Once she realized she had made a mistake, it was clear the last thing she wanted was to go deeper into the issue — or do anything to help others avoid the same misunderstanding.

The former Caryn Elaine Johnson has actually done our community a great service: she has reminded us how much of the hard work of education still remains ahead of us.

Dan Schnur is a Professor at the University of California – Berkeley, USC and Pepperdine. Join Dan for his weekly webinar “Politics in the Time of Coronavirus” (www/lawac.org) on Tuesdays at 5 PM.

On February 11, Iran “celebrated” the forty-third anniversary of the 1979 Islamic Revolution that marked the beginning of everything we associate with the country today: religious fanaticism, terrorism, brutal suppression of women and religious minorities, and antisemitic and anti-American violence. I guess for some, that’s cause to celebrate. 

Of all the ironies inherent in the theocratic regime, including the laughable fact that Iran was recently elected to the United Nations’ Commission on the Status of Women, the most ironic is this: For 43 years, the mullahs have bragged that their oppressive theocratic system is most authentic to the Iranian historical, religious and ethnic experience. Simply put, they act as if they’ve been around for a long, long time, and their way is the only right way. 

But any Iranian, whether in Tehran or Toronto, knows that at 43 years, the regime is a mere blip in a millennia-old Persian timeline rife with monarchs and dynasties, and none of them dared to intertwine religion and state to the level that the current regime has undertaken. The first Persian empire was founded by Cyrus the Great in 550 B.C. From that historical lens, four decades is like five minutes. Often, it seems like the regime is like a stubborn pimple on what is otherwise a mostly pleasant face. 

The regime has only existed for a few decades, but there’s one problem, and it’s a big one: Over 60 percent of Iran’s 80 million people are under 30. That means that none of them has a frame of reference for how much life was better before 1979. They can imagine it, but the fact remains that they’ve never lived it. For example, tens of millions of Iranian women were literally born into the hijab, or mandatory headscarf, after the revolution. For them, there is no reminiscing about the “good, old days” before mandatory Islamic dress codes. 

For Western leaders seeking major changes in Iran, tens of millions of people under 30 is a critical strategic asset, as it means a younger, more progressive population. But it also means an entire generation that has never experienced the social freedoms before the revolution. 

That’s not to say that life was always easy in pre-revolutionary Iran, or that the late Shah, Mohammad Reza Pahlavi, didn’t target many Iranians whom he deemed enemies. But in terms of sheer quality of life, the differences between pre-and-post revolutionary Iran are incomparable. It’s like comparing a breakfast buffet at the Ritz-Carlton to a defrosted sausage and egg sandwich at a gas station. How’s this for reference: Pre-revolutionary Iran enjoyed a brilliant female Minister of Education, Dr. Farrokhroo Parsa, who was an esteemed physician, women’s rights advocate and the first female cabinet minister in Iranian history. Three months after the revolution, she was executed by a firing squad in May 1980. Did I mention she was the Minister of Education?

And before the revolution, one U.S. dollar was equivalent to roughly 70 Iranian rial. In 2020, it traded at more than 200,000 rial. We can’t imagine how expensive it is to buy everything from diapers to a single avocado in Iran today.  

Ever since Israel blessedly destroyed Saddam Hussein’s unfinished nuclear reactor in 1981 (and did it again in 2007 by destroying Syria’s nuclear site), there’s been one question on everyone’s mind: Will Israel destroy Tehran’s nuclear capabilities as well? Year after year, Israeli leaders affirm that all options are on the table. 

But as we fight on the nuclear front against the mullahs, I’d like to see Israeli or American leaders target another type of Iranian citizen: Anyone in possession of nails, hammers, masking tape and good running shoes. Let me explain.

Millions of Iranians need daily, if not hourly, reminders of how life used to be. 

Millions of Iranians need daily, if not hourly, reminders of how life used to be. That’s why the West needs to find a way to bombard Iran with any and all images, especially physical ones such as actual photos and posters, of pre-revolutionary life. Imagine entering the street in the early morning hours and seeing a giant poster affixed to the main entrance at Tehran University that shows a real picture of miniskirt-clad students holding books at the very same space in 1971? Or walking past a sidewalk cafe and seeing cut-outs of a pre-revolutionary couple holding hands and seated at a table? Or even better, incessant holograms of pre-revolutionary Iranians — hijab-less female soccer players or men dancing with women — on the sides of buildings all over Iran. The regime would have a field day pulling everything down, only to see more spring up in its place the next day.

Yes, millions of Iranians use search engines and Instagram (YouTube is nearly impossible to access) and can search for pre-revolutionary images, but it’s not the same. Staring at an image of a miniskirt-clad Iranian woman from the 1970s on your phone isn’t the same as seeing a hologram of her sitting on a park bench, next to an actual little girl in a mandatory headscarf. I’d love to see that illegal hologram on the outer walls of prisons and detainment centers. Of course, everything would have to be set up quickly in the dark of night. Hence, the running shoes.  

Who would carry out such a task? That’s the hard part. I don’t want innocent Iranians arrested or tortured. It’s effortless for me to suggest dangerous ideas from 7,500 miles away. If only something automated could do the job. Surely, the West knows a way to bombard a country with images before it has to resort to bombs. Didn’t we win the Cold War partly through exceptional public diplomacy?

There’s nothing like seeing how people used to live in your own country. The change won’t be quick. But year after year of seeing how good things could be will have a huge impact, like droplets that erode a stubborn stone.  

The people of Iran are sophisticated and they love to travel. Yes, they know what life is like in freer countries, including neighboring ones (bar hopping in Dubai, anyone?). But there’s nothing like seeing how people used to live in your own country. The change won’t be quick. But year after year of seeing how good things could be will have a huge impact, like droplets that erode a stubborn stone. 

Do millions of suffering Iranians already know how bad they have it? Of course. Is it cruel to incessantly remind people about how good life could be? Yes, but it’s even more cruel to allow another generation of Iranians to be crushed by theocrats. 

If I was an American leader, I would ask myself: Are Americans safer in a world in which the Iranian regime is celebrating 50 years of theocracy? One hundred years? Two hundred years?

Iranians are intrepid and knowledgeable. But we must never miss an opportunity to remind them how life could be. Hopefully, they will do the rest.

Tabby Refael is a Los Angeles-based writer, speaker and civic action advocate. Follow her on Twitter @RefaelTabby