Britain

Seek humility, wisdom

It has been a particularly reflective and momentous week. The U.S. elected Joe Biden as its 46th president and Kamala Harris as vice-president, the first Black woman and first woman of Asian and Indian descent elected to that high office. Around the world, there were nearly audible sighs of relief and cries of jubilation as the count trickled in and it became clear that president-elect Biden had cleared the 270 Electoral College threshold, even as the counting of ballots continues and results are not certified until early in December. More solemnly, this week was the commemoration of the 82nd anniversary of Kristallnacht and of Remembrance Day. And, right at the dawn of this emotional week, we learned of the passing of Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks. Britain’s former chief rabbi, Sacks died of cancer on Shabbat at age 72.

Formally called chief rabbi of the United Hebrew Congregations of the Commonwealth, Sacks held the role from 1991 to 2013, during which time his scholarship in philosophy helped him elucidate Jewish theology to general audiences as a regular guest on BBC Radio. He was admired and his death lamented by leading figures in British society, not least the heir apparent to the throne, Prince Charles. He was good friends with now-retired Anglican bishop George Carey, who was the head of the Church of England, strengthening interfaith relations.

Sacks’s time in leadership was not without controversy. He has been viewed by some as too accommodating of orthodoxy and not adequately inclusive of progressive or liberal strains of Judaism. Sacks skipped the 1996 funeral of Rabbi Hugo Gryn, the leading figure in Reform Judaism, drawing rebukes from liberals. In contrast, a book Sacks authored, The Dignity of Difference, implied that all religions and streams therein are equally valid, a thesis that was deemed too ecumenical by some British Orthodox Jews. One rabbi accused him of “heresy.”

In other words, Sacks leaves behind a mixed legacy, though few among us in this generation have left such a lasting mark on contemporary Judaism. The sort of centralized religious leadership that British Jewry and others in Europe have is unfamiliar to North American Jews. But anyone in a position of responsibility in the Jewish community knows the perils of presuming to speak on behalf of all – or most – Jews. Anyone in a job like Sacks’s would draw admirers and detractors. Chief rabbi is, of course, not a political role, but it must be a profoundly political one nonetheless, to elicit an accusation of heresy.

The concept of heresy seems to have seeped from the theological into the political realm in recent years. Fanaticism and extreme loyalty have always played a part in politics. But, in the highly polarized situation we see in the United States and many other places, differences of opinion are magnified into civilizational, even existential, divisions. This certainly seemed to be the case in the U.S. elections. Not everyone likes the incumbent President Donald Trump but, to paraphrase a beer commercial, those who like him like him a lot. While Biden won the support of a vast majority of Jews, surveys suggest that somewhere between 20% and 30% of American Jews voted for Trump’s reelection, a higher vote for a Republican than in many of the last presidential elections. The vehemence of opinion on both sides – some decry Trump as antisemitic while others claim he is the most pro-Israel president ever – would be confusing to the proverbial Martian.

We are assimilating this news in a week where we reflect on the destruction of European Jewry in the Holocaust, the world wars, the bloody history of the 20th century and all the conflict and misery and bloodshed it wrought. The 21st century seems similarly full of divisions and conflicts. Political polarization in democratic countries, as well as growing authoritarian tendencies in several democracies, call for a response.

Biden ran as a unifying figure bent on restoring a sense of moderation and respect to public discourse. Whether one individual can alter the trajectory of a divided society will be seen as the president-elect navigates a narrowly divided House and Senate to shepherd his legislative vision into reality. The unexpected tightness of Republican-Democratic splits in both chambers may exacerbate his challenge. A small tail of far-left Democrats and of far-right Republicans could wag the dog that is their respective party. On the other hand, this challenge could present an opportunity, if there are those willing to fight for what is right and to compromise across the aisle when appropriate and necessary. Such a shift from the failure of bipartisanship in recent years would be monumental indeed. But it could effectively reduce the influence of extremes.

Perhaps what these disparate events illustrate is that conflict – from the cataclysmic to the mild awkwardness of politics at the Shabbat table – is innate to humans. But so is confronting conflict and difference intellectually and with open hearts. Seeking moderation and compromise has lost currency in the age of social media and 24/7 cable news. Nuance is blurred and enlightenment darkened by ideological certainty.

We should seek understanding wherever we might find it and avoid elevating mere mortals to unattainable standards or demonizing them beyond all reasonable recognition. In our spiritual and political realms, in our daily work and home life, we can all commit to some additional humility, to deeper listening and to finding wisdom wherever it might be, even in unexpected places.

Self-inflicted troubles

There are few political leaders who can rest easy these days. Movements are sweeping the world, upending existing assumptions and bringing or threatening major change.

In Venezuela, the leadership is still contested between the far-left incumbent President Nicolás Maduro and the Western-backed opposition leader Juan Guaidó, who claims the presidency. In Brazil, a new rightist regime is making nice with U.S. President Donald Trump and Israeli Prime Minister Binyamin Netanyahu. Far-right parties continue to make gains in European elections, including last weekend’s vote in Estonia, while a movement in Spain is exhuming the fascist past of the Franco era.

In Canada, we appear to be in the midst of the most dramatic political scandal in recent memory. Former justice minister and attorney general Jody Wilson-Raybould’s testimony last week to the Commons’ Justice Committee blew the lid off what she called inappropriate, excessive political interference and veiled threats from the prime minister and other top government officials, who allegedly attempted to influence her decision around a criminal case involving the Quebec corporation SNC-Lavalin. Wilson-Raybould’s testimony painted a picture of a leadership that couldn’t differentiate between the partisan interests of the Liberal party and the judicious operations of the affairs of the government of Canada. The prime minister’s recently resigned former chief of staff, Gerald Butts, was to address the same committee this week, presumably to voice the narrative of the Prime Minister’s Office. But, before he had time to utter his first word, another cabinet minister, Treasury Board president Jane Philpott, abruptly quit cabinet Monday.

“I must abide by my core values, my ethical responsibilities and constitutional obligations,” Philpott declared in a written statement. “There can be a cost to acting on one’s principles, but there is a bigger cost to abandoning them.” Yikes! What does she know that we don’t know? And when do we find out?

The parallels and differences were stark on the same day last week between American and Canadian politics. While Wilson-Raybould was having her say, Trump’s former personal lawyer, Michael Cohen, was unloading a decade’s worth of pent-up hostility at his former boss in front of members of the U.S. Congress. While Wilson-Raybould was handled with figurative kid gloves by fellow Liberals on the committee (whose job, in some ways, was to defend the prime minister and his government on the issue), the reaction from Republicans toward their former ally was anything but cordial. Trump-allied congresspeople went at Cohen hammer and tong, accusing him of being a serial liar, the irony of the scene seemingly lost in their moral indignation.

While both Trudeau and Trump had a very bad week, impeaching Trump seems like a nearly impossible dream given the loyalty of most Republicans to defend his every action. But Trudeau, whose party is now facing almost certainly more challenging conditions in October’s election, may have an internal revolt on his hands if he does not somehow square the circle of the SNC-Lavalin catastrophe and its associated circus side-shows and, not secondarily, reassure his caucus that they’re not all going to get the boot because their leader interfered with a fundamental tenet governing the proper proceedings of justice and rule of law. This is probably far from over.

In Britain, Prime Minister Theresa May flounders about trying to find some resolution to the impending exit from the European Union, which is scheduled to happen in three weeks. The terms of that breakup – and whether it will take place as planned, be delayed or somehow permanently put on hold – remain entirely uncertain. The governing Conservatives and the opposition Labour party have all acted like amateurs through this process, stumbling from one failure to another. Last week, Labour announced they would support a second referendum on the issue, which could provide an escape hatch. If only the deadline for Brexit were not now being counted in hours.

In Israel, King Bibi faces the most serious threat to his leadership in years. Netanyahu was notified last week that he will almost certainly face indictment for bribery, fraud and breach of trust based on allegations that he has provided benefits to allies and friends in return for gifts like pink champagne and cigars, as well as allegedly bartering favours for positive media coverage. With an election now a month away, and facing a new opposition coalition headed by Benny Gantz, the former chief of general staff of the Israel Defence Forces, Netanyahu is not only fighting against the imminent criminal charges. He now faces, in Gantz, someone who neutralizes Bibi’s perpetual advantage over his political rivals – his reputation as a leader who is tough on security. While Netanyahu has tried to paint the apparently centrist Gantz as a “leftist,” most Israeli voters seem mainly concerned with the cost of living, inflation and other pocketbook issues. While the jockeying for coalitions after the vote is often as significant as the election results themselves, sober commentators are speculating that the Netanyahu era may not last much longer.

While political turmoil can have many sources, much of it in democracies comes straight from the highest levels of leadership – from the malfeasance or misfeasance of top elected officials themselves. Whatever the future has in store for Trudeau, Trump, May and Netanyahu, in each case, much of the damage they individually face is self-inflicted.

Redefining antisemitism

An Illinois congressional district leans so heavily Democratic that no serious figures contested the Republican nomination for this fall’s midterm elections. As a result, an avowed Nazi has become the official Republican standard bearer in the suburban Chicago area.

The issue is not that he stands a hope of winning. He doesn’t. The critical test is the degree of unanimity with which the mainstream body politic of the United States comes together to condemn the candidate and reject the normalization of his positions. So far, results are tepid.

Some GOP figures are advising voters not to cast a ballot in the race, which seems like bad advice in a democracy. Others are saying, simply, “Don’t vote for the Nazi,” without suggesting voters support the Democrat. When asked if he was urging Republicans to support the Democrat in the district, Illinois Governor Bruce Rauner simply said, “No.”

We have been seeing far too many examples of Americans putting party over country and humanity recently. President Donald Trump has been able to get away with his worst excesses only through the support of a Republican Congress.

Nevertheless, for whatever limits partisanship puts on bulwarks to bad things, most Americans agree Nazism is bad and should be condemned.

A more ambivalent reaction is taking place in the United Kingdom. The British Labour party has been embroiled for some time in a very serious internal conflict around antisemitism. Senior party figures, including MPs, have uttered (or expressed on social media) things that any “woke” person would recognize as founded on antisemitic premises. In some cases – including in a “closed” Facebook discussion group of which party leader Jeremy Corbyn was a part – the most medieval and unequivocal stereotypes, accusations, conspiracies and Jew-hatred have gone unchallenged.

Members of the party have been kicked out after being subjected to internal party investigations for antisemitic rhetoric. But some have been allowed back in and others have been let off without any censure, even after expressing what the most casual observers would recognize as unacceptable attitudes toward a minority group.

A reckoning has been coming. So, in an effort to set some ground rules, a party committee adopted a definition of antisemitism last week that will serve as the measuring stick in upcoming investigations around whether party figures have or have not engaged in antisemitic rhetoric or behaviour.

The party based their new rules on the standards created by the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance (IHRA) – criteria that have attained a degree of consensus as perhaps the most conclusive definition we can hope to develop for something as amorphous as antisemitism. The guidelines have been adopted by governments and quasi-governmental agencies worldwide, including Britain’s, but the Labour party thought the guidelines could use some improvements – and so they made their own tidy edits.

The Labour party’s red pen took out references that assign antisemitic intent to the equation of Zionism with Nazism. They deleted the parts where the IHRA says that antisemitism includes accusing Jewish people of being more loyal to Israel than their home country. Under the new Labour party rules, it’s OK to say that Israel’s very existence is racist. Holding Israel to a higher standard than any other countries is also fine with the party.

In short, the Labour party retrofitted the definition of antisemitism to comport with the attitudes and actions of their members, instead of forcing their members to adhere to international standards that reject antisemitism.

The new rules also put the onus on the victims to prove intent, which is almost unprovable. In effect, a Labour member can say whatever they wish – “ZioNazi” is a favourite, it seems – as long as they declare that their intent was not antisemitic. For whatever else this represents, it is a betrayal of a core tenet of the global progressive movement: that those who experience discrimination are the ones who get to define it.

As disturbing as the antisemitism crisis in U.K. Labour is – especially as Theresa May’s Conservative cabinet is imploding and a new election could come any day – it is an important moment for addressing left-wing antisemitism throughout the West.

It is one of the first formal, structured discussions we have seen in Western countries around the issue of defining, identifying and censuring antisemitism within mainstream political discourse. It is not a good thing that it is necessary, but it is good that the necessary discussion is taking place.

Of course, this could go (at least) two ways. Labour could experience a backlash over their efforts to redefine antisemitism to their political benefit, realize that they are far outside acceptable discourse and undertake a genuine correction. Alternatively, they could stick with their highly problematic definition of antisemitism, leave their substantial problem of institutional anti-Jewish bias in place and still win the next U.K election. In which case, they will have moved the goalposts of acceptable discourse in dangerous new directions, with implications that go far beyond Britain.

Balfour after 100 years

Balfour Street in Jerusalem. (photo by Pat Johnson)

One hundred years ago, on Nov. 2, 1917, one of history’s most consequential letters was typed. Simple and short, the Balfour Declaration, as it would become known, is a central artifact in the history of Zionism, the state of Israel and the ongoing conflict over claims to the land on which Israelis and Palestinians reside.

The letter from the British foreign secretary, Lord Arthur Balfour, was addressed to Lord Walter Rothschild, a leader in the Zionist Federation of Great Britain and Ireland. It informed Rothschild that the British cabinet had approved this one-paragraph statement:

“His Majesty’s government view with favour the establishment in Palestine of a national home for the Jewish people, and will use their best endeavours to facilitate the achievement of this object, it being clearly understood that nothing shall be done which may prejudice the civil and religious rights of existing non-Jewish communities in Palestine, or the rights and political status enjoyed by Jews in any other country.”

The letter was enormously historic for a number of reasons, not least that the first Zionist Congress had taken place a mere 20 years earlier, the first tangible expression in two millennia that the Jewish people should reasonably anticipate self-determination in the land of Zion. And now one of the world’s great powers was on record as supporting the endeavour.

The letter was also hugely presumptuous because the area in question was still under the control of the Ottoman Empire. The Ottomans would not be thoroughly vanquished by the British-French-Russian allies until 1918. Yet the allies were so confident of eventual victory that the secret Sykes-Picot Agreement of 1916 was already (on paper) carving up the region between the European powers.

Nevertheless, the document stood as a testament to British allegiance to the Zionist ideal in the interwar period. That allegiance, of course, amounted to very little in practical terms. In response to Arab protests (including mass murder in Hebron in 1929), the British froze Jewish migration to Palestine at the very moment in history when it was more urgently necessary than ever. The Holocaust – which can be said to have begun in earnest on Kristallnacht, Nov. 9, 1938, 21 years to the day after the Balfour Declaration was made public – occurred, of course, because of the Nazis’ Final Solution. But it could only have occurred in the enormous extent that it did because no other nation on earth would welcome the imperiled Jews of Europe. Palestine was the most obvious place for them to go, but British resolve folded in the face of Arab protest and Jews were trapped in Europe, where six million would die.

Likewise, the British commitment to Zionism amounted to nothing when it mattered again after the Holocaust. Still preventing widespread Jewish migration to Palestine, the British eventually gave up on the entire enterprise and threw the troubled land into the lap of the newly founded United Nations. The UN, for its part, eventually passed the Partition Resolution that would have seen two states – one Jewish, one Arab – formed in Palestine.

The reality remains that one significant sub-clause of the Balfour Declaration stands out to the contemporary eye. The statement that “nothing shall be done which may prejudice the civil and religious rights of existing non-Jewish communities in Palestine” would certainly be viewed by many as remaining unfulfilled. The civil rights of non-Jewish citizens of Israel are protected in law, but serious inequalities remain. More significantly, the statelessness and associated lack of civil rights experienced by Palestinians in the Israeli-controlled parts of the West Bank would certainly not live up to the well-intentioned words of Balfour.

Some say the British government should apologize for their role in advancing an independent Jewish state. British Prime Minister Theresa May batted that one back in a letter to her party’s Conservative Friends of Israel, saying, “We are proud of our role in creating the state of Israel.… The task now is to encourage moves toward peace.”

If apologies are in order, the British government might consider apologizing for giving little but lip-service to the Zionism enterprise throughout the 20th century.

The Balfour anniversary is an interesting time to reflect on history – and the past has an important role to play in informing us of the present. But, as always, we should keep our focus on the future.