When they ask about…antisemitism

There’s almost no more dreaded question than having our youngsters, whether primary-school aged, teenagers or even young adults, ask us, ‘Why do they hate us so?’

For those called on to respond as a parent or educator, it is deeply painful, as Lee Kofman describes in her recent article To tell them or not: parenting, post October 7 .

We may long to reassure our young people that antisemitism is a thing of the past, that society has learned from the Shoah and understands the dangers of antisemitism - indeed all forms of prejudice -  and that the existence of Israel has shifted the dynamics of Jewish life profoundly, but the events of October 7 and their aftermath have changed the conversation profoundly.

With a lump in our throats and no matter how shaken we may feel, we must not dismiss our children’s concerns in an effort to protect. We need to be honest and may even decide to initiate the conversation. Either way, we signal that this is an appropriate subject and that openness is the preferred mode of communication around this topic, as around other sensitive ones. The last thing we want is for our children to be feeling burdened by antisemitism, internalising it and feeling a sense of shame.

Beyond being open to the conversation, how then to respond? Of course, there’s no one-size-fits-all response and judgment is needed but there are some broad guidelines to consider.

First off, seek to understand what is going on by asking open questions that elicit more information. What is it that your child has seen or experienced? Was it face-to-face, online, at school, around the streets or something overheard? In this way you will have a clearer sense of what you’re being called on to address, while also checking on their physical and psychological safety.

Make sure you create a proper time and place to have a full conversation. Questions can arise in the middle of the shopping centre or when rushing to do a thousand things around the house. This subject is important so if now is not the time, then say you will come back to it and do so promptly.

In addressing the ‘why’ of antisemitism, if your child is old enough to understand, you can explain that we are members of a people, a nation and a religion that have been and continue to be different and a minority. This outsider status has been a constant feature throughout Jewish history and in all places. Children familiar with Pesach, Purim and Chanukah will know something of this, even if they haven’t formally studied Jewish history. Despite or because of being perpetual outsiders, we have held on tightly to our distinctiveness as a people that dwells apart and have developed survival strategies, such as tight-knit communities, faith, resourcefulness, agility and a drive to excel.

Suspicion of minority groups, particularly when they are seen as being ‘disproportionately’ successful, can engender envy and prejudice. The reasons for antisemitism are complex and constantly evolving, from theological to racial to national to economic to political, so that whatever is the embodiment of evil at any given moment becomes the face of antisemitism. What is crucial to emphasise is that it’s nothing about Jews or Judaism that is at the heart of antisemitism. The cause lies within the people and societies that hold those prejudiced views. Often the rise of antisemitism signals a more general breakdown of social cohesion.

When being honest to young people about the reality of antisemitism and its fierce resurgence right now, it’s important that we also gently remind them (and ourselves) of the need for perspective. For every person who says an offensive remark, there are thousands who do not; for every wall we may pass with graffiti or stickers, there are many more clear spaces. There are an infinite number of social media posts to scroll through (better still, put the phone away), so make judicious decisions over content. Perspective involves remembering that we are not the only minority group that is subject to racism and prejudice (although antisemitism has a unique trajectory).

Honesty also means acknowledging that Jews too can hold negative views about other minorities. When they ask ‘Why do they hate us so?’, unpack who they are. They exist but they are not all people and the vast majority of people don’t hate us and don’t hate, period.

Ultimately, the critical element of the conversation about antisemitism lies less in addressing the ‘why’, as discussing ‘how’ to respond to it. If your child is experiencing antisemitism directly, then equipping them on how they might respond should it happen again and assisting them by raising it with the school (or any other body) so they too are aware and addressing it are imperative.

The ‘how’ response leads us to paths that engender resilience as we affirm and celebrate being Jewish. We know who we are, we take pride in our identity and are positive about our families, traditions, history and heritage.

We are in this together and have experienced versions of the present before, as the approaching Tisha B’Av (9th of Av) reminds us. Sinat chinam (baseless hatred) may be woven into the fabric of humanity and equally so is ahavat hinam (baseless love), celebrated on Tu b’Av (15th of Av). How we frame our present moment within our wider and enduring story has the capacity to foster strength in our young people, equipping them to remain firm, while retaining their identity and compassion.