June 26, 2024

The reaction of many Jews to the horrific times in which we find ourselves calls to mind the “Christopher Columbus problem” – conflating what’s new to us with what’s actually new.

Has the world really changed since Oct. 7, or have a number of enduring truths suddenly become all too evident?  I propose that it is the latter.

Here are a dozen examples:

1) Many hold Israel to a very different standard than any other nation.  Countries that kill gays, subjugate women, slaughter minority populations and murder dissidents will often get a pass.  But any failure – real or imagined – related to the Jewish State draws disproportionate outrage.

2) Universities will call out any inkling of racism, misogyny, homophobia, and the like on their campuses, but when it comes to antisemitism, “free speech” rules the day.  Can you guess what the response would be if pro-lifers set up a right-to-life encampment on the college green?  Would that also be considered an acceptable exercise of free speech?

Universities will call out any inkling of racism, misogyny, homophobia, and the like on their campuses, but when it comes to antisemitism, “free speech” rules the day.  

3) Some of our presumed “allies” love us when we support their causes with our time and money, but when we need them most, their silence is deafening.  Let’s never forget.  In the immortal words of Pete Townshend, “I’ll get on my knees and pray we don’t get fooled again.”

4) The pride that older Jews feel for our ancient homeland isn’t necessarily replicated by the younger generation.  We need more programs like Birthright that expose them to the reality of Israel, not the alleged oppressor state that “progressives” are so eager to condemn.

5) Some of our most ardent friends – personally and politically – are non-Jews.  Without those righteous gentiles, we would be in an even more precarious situation than we currently face.  Don’t take them for granted.  Let them know what they mean to us.

6) Jewish organizations – Hillels, synagogues, community centers – are places of revitalization and hope. They rely on our generosity.  Without it, they might not be there when we need them most.

7) Jew-haters will always find a reason to despise us.  We are weak and vulnerable yet control the world’s politics and economics; we are both ruthless capitalists and communist agitators; we are lesser because we are not really white and at the same time privileged oppressors.  To them, what we say or do doesn’t matter.  

8) Jews who lend their names to the effort to delegitimize Israel embolden its sworn enemies.  These “useful idiots” (Vladimir Lenin’s evocative term) naively ignore the fact that they are at least indirectly supporting a plan not just to wipe Israel off the map, but to kill all Jews everywhere.  What do they think “globalize the intifada” means?

9) The number of people in leadership positions far exceeds the number of genuine leaders.  Too many of them are more interested in doing what is expedient, than in doing what is morally right.  The failure of universities in particular to hold students, faculty, and staff responsible for their words and actions constitutes an utter abdication of their duty to educate.

10) We might justifiably abhor some of the policies of the current Israeli government, but not the nation it leads.  Governments come and go, but we must never turn our backs on our forever homeland.

11) There is a limit to the usefulness of our attempts to engage in civil discourse.  Choose your spots with great care.  Some people pretend that they want to learn from you, but they only want to vilify that which you hold most dear.

12) If we don’t promote our own mental and physical health, we will not be able to help others.  Our adversaries relish sending us down the rabbit hole of self-destruction.  It is OK to turn off the news, to stop watching videos of atrocities and of the rabid mob, and to rejoice in our family, friends, and faith.  

None of this is new.  These truths were as real before the massacre and its terrible aftermath as they are today.  If they seem surprising, it is because we didn’t focus enough on them in the past.  If there is a silver lining to all this misery, it is that our eyes are now wide open to the realities that have long beset us.

Morton Schapiro is the former president of Williams College and Northwestern University.  His most recent book (with Gary Saul Morson) is “Minds Wide Shut:  How the New Fundamentalisms Divide Us.”

Every day, when I go online, I see so much anger. 

Since Oct. 7, the Jewish community and Israel have faced a barrage of hate from people all around the world, and much of it appears on social media and in the news.

When we see this negative content, our heart beats faster, our cheeks turn red and we our breathing becomes more shallow. We immediately share it to our feed, writing a comment about how livid we are. Others view it, feel the same and share it as well. 

In this moment, we’re in one angry, reactive bubble – one that may not be furthering the conversation or making any sort of uplifting change in the world. 

But it doesn’t have to be this way. 

I’m not saying that we must stop reposting this content. When we share and spread information, we can learn more about an issue and gain a further understanding of it. We can help others do the same. 

However, I think that there is a better way of going about it: By being proactive instead of reactive. 

If you see a news article or a social media post that makes you angry, take a pause before posting and think: What value can other people get out of this if I share it? What difference could it make? Is it worth spreading this, or should I just ignore it? If I’m sharing it, does that mean I’m giving it steam, and perhaps even making the problem worse? 

If you see a news article or a social media post that makes you angry, take a pause before posting and think: What value can other people get out of this if I share it? What difference could it make?

You also have to consider how a post could make others feel. Is this going to make my fellow Jews feel depressed? More upset? More anxious? Remember: We already feel like the world has turned against us, and the last thing we need is to see more negativity. It wouldn’t be constructive. 

If you want to do something that’s more productive, thankfully, there are so many ways you can help out the Jewish community and Israel at this time. 

Here’s an example: If a politician says something antisemitic, write to that politician’s office expressing your dismay, and encourage people to vote for their opponent in the upcoming election. You may want to volunteer with the opponent’s campaign or run for local government yourself.

If someone rips down hostage posters in your city, put up new ones, or write a column for your newspaper about why those posters should be there in the first place. Show people your point of view.

If an ignorant college student writes something unintelligent on their sign at an anti-Israel protest, put up a funny joke alongside of it or the laughing emoji. Laughter is a fantastic way to respond to this craziness; a good sense of humor has kept the Jewish people alive throughout the generations. 

If someone attacks a Jew and people need help finding the suspect, you should absolutely share it and tell others to do the same – especially if it happened in your town. But also, make sure you and members of your community have a solid relationship with local law enforcement and take the necessary steps to protect yourself. 

And of course, in a time when antisemitism is on the rise, I encourage you to be a proud Jew. Step away from your phone on Shabbat, take a 25-hour break from the news and social media, have meals with friends, go to synagogue, take a walk in nature and connect to Hashem. Connect to your soul. Connect with who you really are. It’s not some angry and anxious person. It’s not someone who should be hunched over, staring at their device every single second of every single day. You are a beautiful being who is intrinsically connected to Hashem, the source of all love. 

Don’t give into the anger-inducing times we live in. Instead, be the person that says, “No.” Be a proactive Jew and figure out how to make a real, lasting, positive impact on the world. 

You will surely inspire others to break the cycle and do the same.

Kylie Ora Lobell is the Community Editor of the Jewish Journal. You can find Kylie on X @KylieOraLobell or Instagram @KylieOraWriter.

On Shabbos, Rabbi Muskin, my rabbi, told the congregation about a demonstration outside the Orthodox Synagogue Adas Torah that was happening on Sunday. He said it was vital that we Jews go, so I went. Adas Torah is on Pico Blvd in the heart of Pico Robertson, my Jewish neighborhood — the neighborhood I love, with the Jewish people I love living next to. There would be a real estate exhibit at Adas, where you could buy an apartment or house in Israel. This event made the antisemites very distraught.

So hundreds showed up, many with their faces covered. If you weren’t there, take my word for it. They were jumping, howling, hooting and wishing that Jews would die. The lovely tune “From The River to The Sea,” which sounds like a Sinatra song, was blooming. The last time someone wished me dead over an apartment was when I outbid a guy for a 300-square-foot studio on the Upper East Side in Manhattan.

Standing in the middle of the protesters, I noticed that God always seems to give insane people the loudest voices. People on the Kingda Ka roller coaster at Six Flags don’t shriek, squeal, and scream half as much as these Jew-haters. They were so loud I thought my tinnitus had been cured.

I was also upset, but for different reasons. When I found out what an apartment in Israel cost, the sticker shock depressed me. Then I thought maybe if I worked harder, with God’s help, maybe one day. The other side, the antisemite side, was also agitated because they believed all the land in Israel belonged to them. Any Jew buying property was, in their view, buying their land. If that were true, I could see how this would be unpleasant. But it’s not true.

I could not believe what I witnessed in my lovely, peaceful Jewish neighborhood, which has more shuls than most neighborhoods in Israel. I was seeing people who, if they ever get their way, want to put an end to all Jews and civilization as we know it. If it weren’t for the police presence, there would have been dead Jews and others all over Pico Blvd.

Many of the antisemites did not seem like they were doing this for religious reasons. They weren’t fighting for Islam and the Koran; their fight was with Jews and with America. If you hate the Jews, you also hate America. Someone I knew said, “Hey, Mark, do some jokes and make them laugh.” I hugged him, put my head on his shoulder, and said, “My heart is broken.”

I saw Rabbi Abe Cooper from the Museum of Tolerance, who said, “Hug the man behind you. The man is Mexican and is converting to Judaism.” I turned and said, “I heard you are converting.” He smiled and said, “God bless Israel.” We hugged each other. Rabbi Cooper said it looked like a Jewish woman might be getting into trouble, so we walked over to ensure she was alright.

I saw two Jewish boys, maybe 12-14 years old, pinch a Palestinian woman’s behind. I yelled, “Don’t do that. It’s wrong.” They ran off. After showing my ID, I was permitted to enter the exhibit. It had only about 10 people sitting and talking to the salespeople. One was a couple that I knew. I told the salesperson, “Whatever they want, put it on my bill. Put two apartments on my bill.” They laughed. It’s much easier for me to get a laugh from my fellow Jews than from enraged masked antisemites.

My wife and four other family members live in the neighborhood. I worry about them and the protection at the Jewish schools and restaurants. I worry about friends who dress outwardly like Jews.

About an hour after getting there. I had to leave because I had a gig with Jay Leno at The Comedy and Magic Club in Hermosa Beach that night. I went there with my wife Nancy, Judy Gruen, and her husband, Jeff. It was Judy’s birthday. They asked me if I could tell jokes after such a harrowing afternoon. The answer is yes. I killed them.

But when Jay and I kill, we hope they leave feeling better.

Am Yisrael Chai.

Mark Schiff is a comedian, actor and writer, and hosts, along with Danny Lobell, the ‘We Think It’s Funny’ podcast. His new book is “Why Not? Lessons on Comedy, Courage and Chutzpah.”

Back in the 1980s, when indictments against federal government officials were still a novelty, a man by the name of Ray Donovan resigned his position as Secretary of Labor after being charged with larceny and fraud in connection with a New York construction project. More than two years after leaving office in shame and humiliation, Donovan was ultimately acquitted, at which point he asked a famous question: “Which office do I go to to get my reputation back?”

John Strauss, a USC economics professor who believes — with some justification — that Hamas members are murderers, can now ask the same question. Readers of columns like this one are probably already familiar with Strauss’ ordeal. But as a reminder:

Last November, a few weeks after Hamas terrorists had murdered more than 1,200 Israelis, Professor Strauss walked past an on-campus protest after his class. In response to a protester who had taunted him for his support of Israel, Strauss replied:

“Hamas are murderers. That’s all they are. Everyone should be killed, and I hope they all are killed.”

A deceptively edited version of that statement, which omitted the reference to Hamas and included only the final sentence, quickly went viral, along with claims that Strauss had been referring to all Palestinians rather only the members of the terrorist organization that he specifically referenced.

The ensuing uproar caused the university to panic, and Strauss was quickly placed on administrative leave and barred from campus. The leave was rescinded a few days later, but he was not permitted on campus — even to teach — until the ban was lifted the day after fall semester had ended. But the investigation and threat of disciplinary action continued for months, before USC quietly exonerated Strauss last week, dismissing the complaints that the protesters had filed against him. The decision was made public by the Academic Freedom Alliance, a nonprofit organization that provides support for faculty members involved in free speech controversies. The university did not confirm or deny the decision in response to media inquiries, citing confidentiality protocols.

Strauss is now free to continue his academic career, but only after more than half a year of living under a cloud of suspicion, facing innumerable invective-laden emails and other hateful correspondence from his detractors, and confronting the realization that no matter how much more he accomplishes in his already exemplary academic career, this episode may overshadow a lifetime of intellectual and instructional success and achievement. To paraphrase Raymond Donovan, which office does Joseph Strauss go to get his reputation back?

USC has no such office. But they can and should apologize to a respected faculty number whose life was turned upside down this year for no good reason. Even a belated apology would be the right thing, not just for Strauss himself but to let faculty and students know that their rights – and reputations – will be protected from similarly unwarranted attack in the future.

USC is not the only university to struggle in this current highly-charged climate. The Anti-Defamation League’s recent Campus Antisemitism Report Card gave the Trojans a “C.” (By way of comparison, UCLA received a failing grade, as did Northwestern and Michigan. Stanford, Berkeley and Columbia all got “D’s.”) USC received credit for convening and accepting the recommendations of an Advisory Committee on Jewish Life more than a year before the Hamas attacks, and for hosting a regional summit on antisemitism in higher education shortly after the Gaza war began. But the ADL report also noted the university’s mishandling of the forced resignation of a student government leader in 2020 who stepped down under unrelenting attacks for her pro-Israel activism, in addition to its blunders in reaction to this year’s on-campus discord.

USC’s leaders cannot erase the damage that has been caused over the last seven months of John Strauss’ life. But they do owe him an apology, which is already long overdue.

USC’s leaders cannot erase the damage that has been caused over the last seven months of John Strauss’ life. But they do owe him an apology, which is already long overdue.

(Note: I am an adjunct instructor at USC’s Annenberg School for Communications. I have not written anything in this column different from what I would write about any other college or university.)

Dan Schnur is the U.S. Politics Editor for the Jewish Journal. He teaches courses in politics, communications, and leadership at UC Berkeley, USC and Pepperdine. He hosts the monthly webinar “The Dan Schnur Political Report” for the Los Angeles World Affairs Council & Town Hall. Follow Dan’s work at www.danschnurpolitics.com.

Last week, a man approached the entrance of a West Los Angeles synagogue, spread a Muslim prayer rug on the cement, and began to pray. 

No one was hurt. No one was heckled. And security personnel asked him to leave the premises. As it turns out, it was not the first time he had laid a Muslim prayer rug at the synagogue entrance and started to pray. 

Now let’s imagine that last week, a black-hatted Orthodox Jew had stood at the entrance of a mosque in Paris and began wrapping Tefillin (phylacteries). I admit that the question is a nonstarter. It’s hard to imagine the outcome of that scenario because I suspect there isn’t a Jew in the world who would stand outside a mosque in Paris, in today’s climate of open rage and violence against Jews, and dare to wrap Tefillin. Before anyone could have laid a hand on him, his own mother would have killed him. 

Nearly 20 years ago, an Israeli diplomat shared a story with me that I will never forget: A European filmmaker had made a film that portrayed Jews quite negatively. When filming wrapped, a journalist asked him why he had portrayed the Jewish character, and not a Christian, Muslim, or any other character so negatively. The director warned the journalist that what he was about to say was off-the-record and, in a nutshell, responded that he wasn’t afraid of any Jews coming after him to break his bones. No one, he said, is really afraid of Jews, but he was certainly afraid of others. 

The film was made at roughly the same time that Theo van Gogh, a Dutch film director, was murdered in Amsterdam by a Dutch-Moroccan Islamist named Mohammed Bouyeri. Van Gogh had directed a short film written by Ayaan Hirsi Ali, the famous Somali writer who has written extensively on how women suffer gender apartheid in Muslim and Arab countries, and who has survived assassination plots. 

Since 1948, Jews have lived in an age of interesting optics, to say the least. Only three years after the image of the skeletal, helpless, uniform-clad Jew of the concentration camps became sadly synonymous with the modern Jewish experience, another Jewish image emerged: that of the strong, spirited, and most importantly, armed Jew of the Israel Defense Forces. He, too, was in a uniform, but those infamous uniform stripes had now been replaced by an unforgettable olive green, and a healthy, sun-kissed, olive-colored tan, to boot. 

I don’t live in Israel, home of the IDF, but I have long suspected that for many reasons, no one is afraid of Jews (unless they are IDF soldiers or, in early April, accountants with bad news). That suspicion was confirmed this week, when all hell broke loose in my Pico-Robertson neighborhood in L.A. because an out-of-control, antisemitic mob was allowed to take over the streets outside of a synagogue, threatening people with baseball bats and assaulting Jews.

Why did the rage-filled mob gather outside an L.A. synagogue on a warm, otherwise quiet Sunday afternoon? On the surface, it was there to shut down an Israeli real estate fair.

“Come and meet representatives of housing projects in all the best Anglo neighborhoods in Israel,” promised an ad publicizing the event at the synagogue. “Get the most updated info from the experts so that you can make your move!” 

Naturally, the rage-filled mobs, for whom everything is weaponized when it comes to Israel, misread the ad and pounced. In response to the event, a flier for the protest read, “Stand against settler expansion at Sunday’s real estate event selling homes to ‘build Anglo neighborhoods’ in Palestine.”

I am the first to admit that the wording on the ad was short-sighted. But let’s review what happened: Israel-hating leftists, the worst purveyors of now-inescapable race politics, immediately believed that the event was an attempt to create white neighborhoods in Israel (for them, Palestine). But anyone who is remotely familiar with Israel knows that an “Anglo neighborhood” in the country is one in which it is easier to live as an American, British, South African or anyone else whose primary language is English, and who needs a little extra help acclimating to Israeli culture. 

The most ironic part of that painfully terrifying mob was that the screaming, keffiyeh-clad throngs of Israel-and-Jew-haters was probably unaware that the event they were protesting was a response to antisemitism itself. It’s not a stretch to speculate that most of the Jews in L.A. who are planning their “move” to Israel today are doing so because they no longer feel safe in America. 

When I heard police helicopters and received many disturbing images or videos on my phone from the protest, I felt as though I was back in post-revolutionary Iran. I was home, with the doors locked, and as I heard rumors that the protesters were beginning to enter the residential areas, which house a large, local Jewish population, I stared down at the paring knife in my hand and realized that it was probably my only means of self-defense. That, and the heavy, beloved hami melon (“kharbozeh” in Persian) I was attempting to stress-eat in response to the fact that in 2024, local law enforcement allowed Jew-haters to pour into a Jewish neighborhood and wreak fear and havoc.

Earlier, I had mentioned that on the surface, this week’s Pico Boulevard balagan seemed like a protest. But there’s much more to it than that. Just as they did at Columbia or UCLA (in cities that are home to the country’s first and second-largest Jewish communities, respectively), these people were testing the waters. Could they enter one of L.A.’s most visible and populated Jewish neighborhoods and terrorize Jews? The answer was a horrifying “Yes.”  

Just as they did at Columbia or UCLA, these people were testing the waters. Could they enter one of L.A.’s most visible and populated Jewish neighborhoods and terrorize Jews? The answer was a horrifying “Yes.” 

For the sake of imagination, would hundreds of angry Jews be able to gather outside of a large mosque in Dearborn, Michigan, block the entrance, scream genocidal chants against Muslims, and return home in perfect peace and safety? The answer may be found in the response of London’s Jewish community to the 100,000+ pro-Hamas protesters that filled that city’s streets this year: Those Jews stayed home, locked the doors and let the havoc-wreaking storm pass. 

This year, most notably, there have been times in which Jews have fought back, and that includes counter-protesters in L.A. this week. But in general, we are not often feared. And perhaps, at times, that’s a good thing. 

The kind, local Jewish woman who works with inner-city youth and oversees the distribution of hundreds of meals for the poor should not be feared; the wise, open-minded rabbi who works tirelessly with interfaith groups and interfaith leaders to ensure peace and respect between people of different faiths should not be feared; the brilliant, young, Jewish musical genius who will become the youngest maestro of a generation should not be feared; and even the IDF, which warns Palestinian civilians with thousands of leaflets and announcements of impending strikes against terrorists, should only be feared if someone has collaborated with terrorists, or terrorized Israelis. 

Perhaps outside of Israel, no one fears Jews. Perhaps that is part of a predestined plan. The people who comprise a “Light unto the Nations” must elicit just that: Light. And wisdom, radiant kindness, and unshakeable, sometimes maddening, faith. 

And a few firearms and hami melons might be of some help, too.

Tabby Refael is an award-winning writer, speaker and weekly columnist for The Jewish Journal of Greater Los Angeles. Follow her on X and Instagram @TabbyRefael.