I don’t like the word antisemitism. Not its overuse; nor its blatantly anti-Jewish derivation.
The word was coined by Wilhelm Marr, a German journalist, in 1879. Marr used the term to give a pseudoscientific veneer to the age-old hatred of Jews, differentiating it from religious-based hatred (anti-Judaism).
Marr intended to frame this animosity as a racial rather than religious issue, reflecting the racial theories and pseudo-scientific ideas prevalent in Europe at the time. Similar to the use of the word anti-Zionist in our times, it was a way of linguistically cloaking one’s hatred of the Jewish people.
I prefer the more straightforward term: Jew-hatred. Yet I’m beginning to develop an overall aversion to talking overmuch about Jew-hatred’s steep rise.
Instead, I have become a staunch promoter of Jewish empowerment. Fighting Jew-hatred is like draining the ocean with an eye-dropper. I’m fed up with wrestling a senseless, shape-shifting, multi-millennia-old virus. My answer to the scourge of Jew-hatred lies in every Jew becoming more actively and proudly Jewish.
When fear of Jew-hatred becomes the centerpiece of our connection to Judaism, we are placing ourselves in the hands of our enemies. We are using our strength and our unity not to achieve empowerment, but to engage in a Sisyphean endeavor wherein we create little more than an exhausting sense of despair.
Yes, we as Jews need to defend ourselves and to call out specific acts of hatred against Israel and Jews. But our best resource is woefully underused. It is a turn towards the inherent power that lies in immersing ourselves in our beautiful, timelessly relevant and unifying heritage.
Rather than expending energy on those who hate us, why not become more involved in the things that have sustained us as a nation for over 3,000 years, such as Shabbat observance, Kashrut, Torah study, prayer, the donning of tefillin for men and the lighting of Shabbat candles for women?
For those of us deeply invested in Jewish strength and survival, we need to shift our focus from merely protecting ourselves to enriching ourselves and our communities.
By far the most crucial and often overlooked question is: How do we ensure that our children marry Jews? Let’s start by identifying what actions we should avoid.
When Jew-hatred becomes the focal point of our Jewish life, such as when we donate more frequently to Holocaust remembrance (which is, of course, important) than to synagogues and institutions of Jewish learning, we fail to ensure Jewish continuity. Transgenerational Judaism requires that our children experience more joy and relevance than fear and powerlessness.
This balance is achieved by maintaining a sense of proportionality. Are we creating homes that focus more on those who hate us or are we creating homes filled with an uplifting sense of mission—carrying forth the immutable, millennia-old traditions of our people and instilling in our children a sense of pride and accomplishment?
It’s too soon to find any positive aspects in the atrocities of Oct. 7. Yet for many Jews, perhaps most, there has been a palpable resurgence of strength, rejuvenating our intrinsic love for one another. In honor of those whose lives were brutally taken, we in America who don’t fight physically for Jewish survival must instead fight spiritually.
Less talk of antisemitism and more actions promoting Judaism are what is needed now.
