The Struggle for America to Keep Her Promise
In a year of long weeks, this has been a long week. The recent vandalism at local Jewish cemeteries has not only kept us all busy, but it’s been emotionally draining. Walking through row after row of toppled graves, seeing names I know, and consoling friends in this moment has all been quite a lot. And, sadly, this is the second time in the last month that Cincinnati has made international news for antisemitism.
Given that yesterday was July 4, I can’t help but consider the uncomfortable contrast that this hate represents: Our country was founded as a haven for the religiously persecuted, yet such acts of hate undermine this promise. They upend the hope George Washington expressed to Moses Seixas of the Touro Synagogue in 1790 that our nation “gives to bigotry no sanction, to persecution no assistance.”
Washington’s exact words specified that “the Government of the United States” be unwilling to tolerate bigotry or persecution; and, thankfully, we are seeing the government and law enforcement come to our aid in this moment of need. The Green Township Police Department has been extremely supportive, the local FBI office wasted no time stepping in to help, and even our President called for justice, leading to the involvement of the Justice Department’s Civil Rights Division and the FBI offering a $10,000 reward for information to solve the crime.
It is good to see that our local and federal law enforcement are taking this incident so seriously. As Jews know all too well, bigotry is a social pollutant. Hate may begin as a particular phenomenon, as antisemitism impacting Jews; but, if left unchecked, history shows that it ends with waves of extremism that erode the foundations of our entire society.
To that end, I would like to re-share and emphasize some words I first circulated in a prior post. I think they are important to bear in mind:
As I see friends and strangers make assumptions about who [vandalized the Covedale Cemetery complex,] I find myself reluctant to draw many conclusions. To begin with, we still don’t technically know that this was an act of antisemitism. (Until and unless they catch whoever did this, we won’t be able to confirm the intent necessary to understand it as such.) But, more than that, I see folks lining up with their typical “teams.” The conservatives are sure that this must be linked to progressives or anti-Zionism, and the liberals are certain this is emblematic of right-wing, white-Christian-nationalist antisemitism. The truth is it could be either. And, when/if they find whoever did this, it won’t change the fact that:
1. There’s a colossal surge in antisemitism into which this would neatly fit, whether or not it actually was due to antisemitism;
2. Left-wing antisemitism is on the rise, and many who oppose Israel’s existence have engaged in hateful acts that could include vandalism such as this; and
3. There is a long history of extreme right-wing antisemitism that this act could easily represent.
Here’s what I mean by this, refracted through the prism of another recent incident: This week, CityBeat asked me if I thought the cemetery vandalism was linked to flyers the KKK distributed on Sunday. My response was perhaps a bit too…rabbinical, a version of “Yes and no.” No, because there’s no specific reason to presume that the people who distributed the flyers had anything to do with the vandalism—such flyerings happen all the time. Yes, because both incidents are part of the same swirling cycles of hate which, e.g., make nearly half of American Jews alter their behavior out of fear of antisemitism.
Our focus right now, I think, should therefore be simple and twofold:
First, we must be sure our neighbors know the extent antisemitism’s proliferation—including, for example, at the cemetery this week. Those around us can’t be allies if we don’t tell them what we need. Second, we must clarify the stakes—we need to make sure our neighbors understand the consequences to us all if antisemitism isn’t controlled. Whether they are convinced by personal loss (that the hate will eventually spread to others), by arguments of religious freedom (that this defeats the promise of America), or by a principled focus on ethics and justice (that antisemitism is just wrong), we need to get our point across—not just for our own good, but for the good of our society.
This week’s incidents, more than many others, should spark a drive to achieve these goals. As a wise colleague told me a couple days ago, “it is much easier to push headstones down than it is to set them back up.” That metaphor clearly extends to our lives: We must work harder to safeguard our “headstones”—literal and figurative—to keep them standing tall.