The Coming Storm Part IV: Maiy Nafka Mina? (What Are We Going to Do About It?)
One of my favorite Talmudic phrases, maiy nafka mina, literally means, “what comes out of it,” a sort of rabbinic, “So what?” For a study of antisemitism in this moment, this may be the key question: Even if we know what to expect, what can we do? Today, I offer five potent strategies for responding to antisemitism in the coming weeks and months.
Two strategies are proactive:
1: Be a teacher. We can all educate our peers—Jewish and non-Jewish—about what Jews generally* consider to be antisemitic. The average person likely has a sense of what one or two antisemitic tropes are; for instance, they may be familiar with greed. On the other hand, they probably don’t have much depth to their overall knowledge, and they might not understand other types of antisemitism at all, e.g., blood. (*Yes: Jews sometimes disagree about the details, but if our people allowed disagreement to stop us from moving forward, we would have stalled out long ago, probably somewhere in the wilderness!)
There are excellent materials available to help explain aspects of antisemitism, large and small. From this ADL guide to the American Jewish Committee’s Translate Hate, there are shoulders on which we can stand.
2: Influence the influencers. We can speak with those who hold positions of influence, asking them to help turn down the temperature of political rhetoric. The antisemitism we experience doesn’t occur simply because folks hate Jews; in fact, I don’t believe most people who resort to antisemitism have any conscious hatred of us. However, given how naturally antisemitic tropes come to many members of society—even some Jews—we can expect antisemitism to be a byproduct of societal tension.
The worse our civic discourse gets, the worse it gets for our people and the more reason we should fear that things may spiral out of control. If we can successfully impress upon leaders how important it is that they think before they speak, we can prevent much antisemitism before it even happens. Leaders, like all of us, are incentive-driven. That means you can be successful by explaining to them that your priority is to see them maintain a level head and avoid hyperbolic, angry rhetoric. Kindly tell them that your support is contingent on them avoiding such pitfalls. Tell them that scapegoating minorities and “grievance leadership” is a negative in your book and that you know others agree with you.
Two strategies I’d recommend are purely reactive:
3: When you see something, ask something. I’m riffing off the adage, “when you see something, say something,” because in this case, when you hear someone say something antisemitic, you should respond by asking genuine, curious questions. If you hear someone suggest that “Jewish donors” or “Zionists” are behind something they don’t like, ask them what they mean. Of course, I’m recommending a confrontation, but I’m not suggesting a conflict.
When people feel challenged, they become defensive, and if you call someone out—perhaps even calling them an antisemite—they may double down on their opinion, not just because they think they’re right, but also because they don’t want to be told they’re wrong.
Instead, get probative. When people are gently encouraged to dig deeper into what they mean in espousing slogan-esque language, they themselves often find that their words ring hollow. Given the opportunity, be an advocate for our community and guide folks through this healthy, reflective behavior. As Elizabeth Neumann, author of Kingdom of Rage, put it in a recent discussion about anti-Haitian rhetoric, “people disengage and walk away from extremism when they get accountability and love from unexpected places.”
4: Put pen to paper and influence the masses. When major figures cross lines, don’t be afraid to communicate your opinion on the matter publicly. As societal rules are violated, it is up to us to throw the flag, so to speak, and emphasize that our community (Jewish and beyond) has rules we expect to be followed, one of which should be not engaging in antisemitism.
What can you do in this vein? Write a letter to the editor in the paper. Post a reputable source explaining the antisemitism on Facebook. Even explain the problem yourself on TikTok. In whatever way you can authentically get the word out that what you heard was not OK, take it upon yourself to do so. Help people to realize that—as Eric Ward argues—antisemitism isn’t just a Jewish problem; it’s a problem for all marginalized peoples.
And allow me to offer one last strategy:
5: Just do something. I know, this probably shouldn’t count as a strategy, per se, but almost anything is better than just sitting back and watching as antisemitism tears through our communities. We each have unique talents and assets we can use to fight back against antisemitism. Are you an artist who can reach those in progressive spaces through creative products? Do it. Are you an employee in a diverse organization where you could start conversations about anti-Jewish hate? Do it. Do you have a child at a school where you think you might be able to start new initiatives about antisemitism during the upcoming election season? Do it.
In this moment, complacency is our enemy; action is our friend.
If all of our community were engaging in these five strategies, each person in their way, imagine the impact we could have. Our peers would be more educated. Many of our leaders would be better behaved. Our fellows could recognize when their rhetoric crossed lines they otherwise wouldn’t know existed. In sum: Our community would become its own best advocate, and we’d be better protected.
That’s a thought I find empowering and a goal worth fighting for.