Since the October 7 Hamas attacks on Israel nearly a year ago, and the subsequent ongoing war on Gaza, there have been widespread claims that antisemitism is globally on the rise. Attacks on Jewish synagogues and businesses, some of them uncomfortably close to home, bear this out.
In the United States, antisemitic crimes tripled the week after the Hamas attacks, and the United Kingdom recorded a 1,353 per cent increase in such incidents. In Australia, 37 anti-Jewish incidents were reported the week after the Hamas attacks, compared to one the previous week.
The history of antisemitism stretches over several millennia. It arises almost everywhere Jews have chosen to cling to their religious and cultural identity, against the dominant majority. What is ‘new’ today is that arguments about antisemitism now blur into bitter debates over the Israel-Palestine conflict.
Today, antisemitism takes both familiar and new forms of expression. Shalom Lappin is a linguist based at Queen Mary University in London and the author of a new book, The New Antisemitism. But the term ‘new antisemitism’ does not belong to him alone: it has been used by a number of other writers.
The basic thesis of Lappin’s book is that we can only understand the rise of antisemitism in the larger context of growing inequality and anti-globalisation movements, which “share a common focus on identity politics and a sharply anti-elitist rejection of established political institutions”. I am not entirely convinced by this claim.
At the same time, he argues there are currently three strains of antisemitism: belonging to the right, the left and radical Islam. The rise of populist authoritarian movements is certainly connected with a resurgence of antisemitism in a number of Western countries, particularly in Europe.
The New Antisemitism is strongest in tracing the historical roots of antisemitism in both western and Islamic societies. The long story of the persecution of Jews in Christian Europe makes for dismal, if familiar, reading. But it is important to correct the idea that the Holocaust was somehow a unique event, confined to Nazi Germany.
Nor has antisemitism disappeared from sections of Christianity, even though it has now been repudiated by virtually all mainstream churches. In the US, Lappin writes, it has taken hold among white supremacists, who justify their antisemitism by claiming the nation is founded on Christian beliefs. In Putin’s Russia, the close links between the state and the Orthodox Church have helped reignite old strains of antisemitism, based on the myth that the Jews killed Christ.
While Christianity condemned Jews as the killers of Jesus, Islam accepted Jews as “people of the book”, even if their status was often restricted. Antisemitism in Islamic countries is a complex mixture of traditional stereotypes of Jews as both powerful and alien, and of deep hostility to Israel.
As has been true historically in much of Europe, the desire for a pure national identity, whether defined by race or by religion, makes Jews a notable target – as indeed are other minorities, such as the Hazaras in Afghanistan or Roma in many European countries.
In the current moment, it is impossible to totally separate antisemitism from hostility towards Israel. The two are not always linked: right-wing Europeans like Viktor Orban in Hungary are strong defenders of Israel, while colluding with antisemitism at home.
Former US president Donald Trump flirted with antisemites, while also – as he often declares – supporting Israel to a greater extent than any of his predecessors in his term as president. Indeed Trump has recently claimed that Harris’ election would lead to the obliteration of Israel within two years.
Many of the most stalwart defenders of Israel cast their critics as antisemitic. For those of us who are critical of Israel’s position, it is essential to differentiate between opposition to Israel and prejudice towards Jews. The Star of David’s status as both the flag of Israel and a marker of Jewish identity symbolises the problem.
Hostility to Israel is clearly the main driving force in extreme left antisemitism, but here Lappin is at his least convincing. Rather like the Murdoch newspapers, he consistently argues that major elements of the left have embraced a new antisemitism. But his evidence is less extensive here than it is for antisemitism from the right or fundamentalist Islam.
In the cases he cites, there is certainly evidence of uncritical views of Hamas and a disinterest in how hostility to Israel might shade over into antisemitism. His primary examples come from the now-discredited Jeremy Corbyn wing of the British Labour Party (Corbyn at first refused to call Hamas a terrorist group) and from the university encampments in support of Palestine, after the October 7 Hamas attacks.
But claims for “the alacrity with which much of the postmodernist left endorsed the Hamas terrorist attack as ‘anti-colonial resistance’” gives too much weight to peripheral groups on the left, where opposition to Israel shades into clearly antisemitic language.
He argues that current progressive thought is tied to a whole set of rigid views that subordinate issues of class to those of identity. This means, he writes, that Jews who wish to participate in progressive movements must “declare their active hostility to Israel as a country, rather than simply oppose the policies of its government”.
His claims about a “rising tide of anti-Jewish racism” and “mass demonstrations featuring anti-Jewish sloganeering in British and European cities” make sense if one accepts that anti-Zionist language, and calls to free Palestine “from the river to the sea”, are inherently antisemitic.
If such slogans mean the denial of sovereignty to the seven million Jews who now live in Israel, this is a tenable argument. It is less persuasive when one considers that the Israeli Knesset, the country’s legislature, has explicitly rejected a two-state solution and many in the current government have their own version of “the river to the sea”, which denies any possible recognition of Palestinian sovereignty.
Lappin himself acknowledges the need to recognise Palestinians’ equal claims for recognition and sovereignty. He also deplores the autocratic and expansionist views of the Netanyahu government. Like many Israelis, he opposes the attempts by Netanyahu to limit the powers of the judiciary and he is appalled by the rapid Jewish settlements on the West Bank, often accompanied by violence against Palestinian inhabitants.
The history of antisemitism stretches over several millennia. It arises almost everywhere Jews have chosen to cling to their religious and cultural identity, against the dominant majority. What is ‘new’ today is that arguments about antisemitism now blur into bitter debates over the Israel-Palestine conflict.
He nowhere mentions Australia, but some here echo his argument that anti-Zionism and calls to free Palestine are antisemitic. Australia’s Envoy Against Antisemitism, Jillian Segal, has claimed: “Antisemitic behaviour is not only present on many campuses but is an embedded part of the culture.”
This is a very serious charge – and one that needs serious evidence to support it. Lappin points to the escalation of complaints about hate crimes directed at Jews, and the need for increased security around synagogues, schools and community centres. But where is the evidence that the left is responsible for this undoubted rise in antisemitic crimes?
Lappin is more convincing when he criticises claims that Israel is a settler-colonial state, equivalent to the US or Australia. As he points out, there was a consistent Jewish population in Palestine for two millennia.
More significantly, the Jews who arrived in Israel over the last century have not come as agents of an imperial power, but as refugees from a series of persecutions across Europe and the Middle East.
I have some sympathy for the claim that many people, on both left and right, either ignore antisemitism or turn it to their own purposes. But this is true of other forms of prejudice, too. The sad reality is, most of us are largely unaware of discrimination and oppression when it is directed at groups we feel no affinity with.
Lappin provides a very useful summary of the development of modern Israel, the series of wars between it and its Arab neighbours, and the failure over time to reach an equitable settlement with the Palestinians. His claim that “both Islamists and Jewish messianists have seized control of the debate” is a necessary corrective to the simplistic arguments made too often on both sides.
For Lappin, the need to find a two-state solution remains, even as support for it seems to have collapsed on both sides of the conflict. In an attempt to reconcile two apparently irreconcilable claims, he points to other examples where sovereignty has been shared: in particular, Cyprus. Given that the Turkish enclave of Cyprus is not recognised by any other state, and only remains because of Turkish military prowess, it hardly seems an attractive model.
His argument is strongest when he points to the ways hostility to Jews is widespread, reappearing under conditions of political and economic stress. Lappin is an old-fashioned social democrat at heart. He concludes that antisemitism can only be addressed by “a new progressive politics that addresses the underlying causes of the current crisis in democracy”.
He concludes with a chapter on “notes for a new progressive politics”. It is the weakest part of an otherwise stimulating book. Trying to sketch out a global program for progressive politics in 24 pages inevitably leads to a level of generalisation that adds little to an otherwise provocative and levelheaded introduction to a difficult topic.
He warns against ethnonationalism and the rise of authoritarian politics. I am deeply sympathetic to this argument, but I am not convinced it fully explains the resurgence of antisemitism.
Sadly, the passions aroused by Israel’s escalating response to the Hamas attacks have revived centuries-old stereotypes of Jews as both alien and all-powerful, so that the distinction between opposition to Israel and hatred of Jews becomes blurred.
This article was originally published on The Conversation.
Photo by Levi Meir Clancy on Unsplash.
