Dear American Progressives: Your Jewish Friends Are Terrified by Your Silence
By: Boaz Munro
Tags: Jews, Palestine, Progressive, Anti Semitism, Israel

Over the past few weeks, people have been attacking Jews in American streets for being Jewish, as well as vandalizing synagogues and other Jewish sites. No, I’m not talking about the scuffles at protests; I’m talking about the premeditated attacks on random people who look Jewish — sucker-punching, shooting fireworks, pulling people up from seats at restaurants, screaming threats.

Though no comparison is perfect, these attacks are similar to the recent attacks on Asian Americans in that they’re targeted against people of an identifiable group and motivated by foreign events.

Progressives claim to stand against all forms of bigotry. But when it comes to attacks on American Jews — Jews uniquely — you’re not speaking up. Almost all of you are silent.

At first, I hoped it was just that you didn’t know what was happening, so I posted about it. A few friends showed care and concern, but mostly I was met with more silence, denial, and even derision. I got my first small taste of the dismissiveness, gaslighting, and victim-blaming that many Americans (Black & Indigenous people, women, LGBTQ+ people) have dealt with forever, and which progressives usually condemn.

A few friends suggested there weren’t actually that many attacks. They criticized the Anti-Defamation League’s methods for collecting the statistics. But even the critics’ counts suggest the attacks doubled this month (over their already-high norm).

The numbers weren’t really the point, though. The more I pushed, the clearer it became. It all tied back to Israel.

Some of you said, “of course I oppose the anti-Jewish violence but have been focused on the Palestinians.” Some of you said, “I don’t want to seem Zionist.” Some of you said things like “Why center Jews being attacked in America when kids are getting bombed in Gaza?”

The impact of your silence should be obvious: it leaves us vulnerable and deeply hurt. Your silence is telling Jew-haters that it’s open season on Jews in America — that as long as they shout “Free Palestine” the next time they shoot up a synagogue, it’ll be okay with you.

But I want to talk about the cause of your silence, which is your huge antisemitic blind spot. (I say this with love. We all have blind spots that hurt people.)

Let me explain the blind spot:

As I mentioned, Asians and Asian Americans are being randomly beaten on American streets in a surge of attacks apparently driven by anti-Chinese hatred. This is horrific, and your response has rightly been widespread and loud. #StopAsianHate. Instagram posts. Donations. Zoom calls. An outpouring of support and solidarity.

Some might say this outcry is merely performative and doesn’t do enough, but it’s a hell of a lot better than nothing.

And here’s the thing — when you joined the outcry against this violence, it didn’t cross your mind to say “I can’t support Chinese Americans right now because of what China is doing to the Uyghurs.” (Spoiler alert — it’s genocide.)

Do you see the blind spot?

Another example: when you protest violence and intimidation directed at your Muslim American neighbors, it doesn’t cross your mind to say “I can’t support Muslims right now — Saudi Arabia’s been bombing kids in Yemen with American weapons.”

(I am not bringing up China and Saudi Arabia in order to justify or minimize Israel’s actions. I’m contrasting your allyship with Chinese Americans and Muslim Americans against your abandonment of Jewish Americans when those groups are under attack.)

Indeed, you believe it’s horribly bigoted to treat people as less American because of ethnic or religious ties to foreign countries. If anyone even implies that the violence against Muslim or Asian people in America is in any way deserved, you rightly call out their racism regardless of what’s happening overseas.

You don’t extend that allyship to Jews. You’re treating us the way far-right racists treat other American minorities under attack: by either blaming the victim or simply ignoring the abuse. You tie American Jews, collectively, to the actions of a foreign government. You turn us into a side in a conflict — which can be protected only at the expense of the other side — instead of treating us as fellow Americans. Jews are the only minority group in America you’re withholding allyship from because of the actions of a foreign state. (Please read this sentence slowly three times.)

Now, a few of you have spoken up, and I’m grateful for each and every one. Perhaps ironically, my Muslim American friends have been my strongest allies this week. And yes, most of them are passionate critics of Israel whose social accounts have been absolutely ablaze on behalf of Palestine.

Are my Muslim American friends contradicting themselves by supporting both the Palestinian cause and the safety of their Jewish neighbors? Of course not. They’re not fooled by a false choice; they know that their allyship toward me is not about Israel, but my right to exist as an American. They know what it’s like to be a vulnerable religious minority in America. They know what it’s like to be suspected of having foreign loyalties. They know that in this country, wearing distinctive religious garb can get you beaten and shot.

They understand that “Stop beating up Jews” is in no way a pro-Israel statement (I can’t believe I have to say that). It’s a decent, human, progressive statement.

And by the way, since some friends have mentioned it: I’m not policing your Palestine activism. I’m not asking you to append something about Jews to every #freepalestine post and tweet. On the contrary, defending Jewish Americans shouldn’t be part of those posts at all, because linking us collectively to Israel perpetuates the stereotype of Jews as foreign.

But you have to end the silence. Your silence is deadly. Trust me on this: I’m a third-generation Holocaust survivor with a history degree. There is a recurring pattern in Jewish history, which transcends time and space: political tensions rise, someone blames us for something because we’re easy scapegoats, people start to attack us, our neighbors turn their backs, and then — disaster.

This ancient, toxic pattern arose in America this month. Why do I say “this month”? After all, we’ve always been attacked in America. Well, the attacks aren’t what’s new. What’s new is the silence. The time to speak out against the violence was as soon as it began to rise, and you didn’t do it.

Your silence is so profound that we can make out the rumble of history.