Beating the Oldest Conspiracy Theory of All
Sermon Shabbat Vayeitzei 5783
This morning I was interviewed by KGUN-9 about all the increased Ant-Semitism today. It is not the first time I have been tasked with speaking about an unpleasant topic in the media, and it will not be the last.
When I began The Too Jewish Radio Show over 20 years ago, one of my first guests was Professor Leonard Dinnerstein, alav haShalom, the founder of the Judaic Studies Program at the University of Arizona and the author of what was then the authoritative book on the subject, entitled, AntiSemitism in America. Len Dinnerstein was, quite literally, the authority on the subject, and his words were important for everyone to hear. And what he said back then, two decades ago, was the Anti-Semitism was in severe decline in America, which was certainly true by any and every measure.
Even after 9/11—and this was just a year after that terrible event—you could certainly make a very strong case that Anti-Semitic acts and attitudes had been fading dramatically for decades. The ADL and other organizations began recording and totaling Anti-Semitic acts in the 1930s, and had continued to do so. What they found was that each decade—indeed, nearly every year—saw lower and lower rates of Anti-Semitism in our country. If you had included the early part of the 20th century, which hadn’t been carefully measured but included horrifying Anti-Semitic acts like the lynching of Leo Frank, you would surely have found the same thing to be true.
But that long downward trend in anti-Jewish attitudes and actions has now dramatically changed for the worse. And both in word and deed Anti-Semitic violence and open hostility have grown to the extent that attitudes we hadn’t seen, at least on the surface, have again become normalized and circulated.
My guest on The Too Jewish Radio Show this coming Sunday morning is a woman named Rita Katz, an expert on terrorism and violent forms of Anti-Semitism who founded an organization called SITE. She herself was an undercover anti-terrorist operative for the US government, and her story is fascinating. An Iraqi Jew born in Basra, she moved to Israel with her family and then, after serving in the IDF and getting her degrees in international relations and Middle East studies, she moved with her husband and children to the DC area. She was recruited to become an operative against Islamists, including Al-Qaida and ISIS, and eventually moved over to working against domestic terrorists—who suddenly were predominantly Neo-Nazis and white supremacists, and viciously Anti-Semitic. In her view, they are far more dangerous now than Islamic terrorists. She said that she now is so concerned about violence from ultra-right Anti-Semites that for the first time in her life she no longer keeps a mezuzah on her front door.
So, what is behind Anti-Semitism? Well, that’s a class I have taught and probably need to teach again. To be honest, for most of my rabbinic career I avoided teaching that class; why would I want to delve into the horrifying and deeply painful centuries of tragedy and torment? But when I began to study the subject in order to teach it, it turned out to be fascinating in a perverse sort of way. “Traditional” Anti-Semitism was based in both the fear and hatred of anyone who appears to be truly “other”—different skin color, different customs, different holidays, different sexual orientation, different foods and so on—combined with a genuine religious theological problem unique to Christianity. It is a serious and important subject, but it is perhaps more than I can cover in one December sermon.
But this new rise in Anti-Semitism in America is a horrifying and disturbing form of hatred that comes from a somewhat different place. It has no basis in reason or respect, of course. Notably, it creates its unique form of evil from small biases and bigotries that it inflates insanely, and it is based as much in the intellectual and social insecurities of its creators as in anything else. This new American Anti-Semitism makes something terrible out of small human differences of belief and practice, and then actualizes that hatred into violence. And boy, does it embrace the culture of violence.
Crucially, it starts with small items and blows them up into a rage based on very little at all but nonetheless bordering on the pathological.
I’m reminded of the old children’s stone soup story—do you know it? It goes like this. A stranger comes to a small town in the Old Country and in the marketplace there announces that he can create soup out of a stone. The local shtetl residents are highly skeptical, and the stranger says he will show them. He says he is ready to make the soup, but all he requires is a pot, which a villager provides. Oh, and maybe a little water, which comes quickly. And perhaps a stick or two of firewood, and again a shtetl resident brings it. And maybe a potato or two, and a carrot… soon the shtetl residents have provided everything he needs to actually make the soup. Amazing—he has made soup out of a stone!
Similarly, today’s American Anti-Semitism—much of it online in social media and in various chat forums—takes the smallest of items and transforms them into conspiracies. When you think about it, Anti-Semitism is the oldest and most persistently virulent form of conspiracy theory in human history. And like all conspiracy theories it feeds on tiny bits of information—true or false—as kindling that then inflames the built-in rage that unhappy people choose to exhale as violent destruction.
The normalization of Anti-Semitism by prominent people, right and left, is deeply disturbing. I thought we had grown out of that idiocy decades ago, and so did many experts. But when those people we have raised to high office, or prominence in the arts or sports, choose to show respect and share meals with virulent Anti-Semites, we are going down the wrong path. We have to object strongly when those we agree with do such insane things, not only when those we dislike. We are only effective when we are willing to hold our friends to the proper standards, not just our perceived enemies.
Anti-Semitism is a vile form of racism. It is the oldest form of racism. It is conspiracy theory writ large. It is wrong, always, when expressed against any Jews of any movement or denomination.
Look, I don’t mean to frighten anyone tonight. In truth, America is not Czarist Russia or Nazi Germany or even the Soviet Union or the Arab countries after the birth of the State of Israel. We Jews continue to enjoy a golden age right here in America in 2022, living and praying freely and openly, accomplishing great things in every area of endeavor. But this pernicious scourge is afoot, and we need to be both aware of it and devise effective ways of combating it.
In my view, the primary way to fight Anti-Semitism is to build bridges with those people of good faith of other religions and cultures. My own experiences have certainly testified to that: when Jews are attacked, we need to reach out to all people of good faith and create strong bonds of real community.
The greatest example of that, in my rabbinate, took place at this very time of year when I served as the student rabbi in Billings, Montana. I flew in every two weeks to lead services and teach students, as was the pattern for student rabbis in smaller communities that did not have enough congregants to support a full-time rabbi. I took the pulpit to get out of the midwestern grey of Cincinnati, figuring I’d learn how to fly fish and get some skiing in. As it turned out, that wasn’t what made the year so unusual.
My student pulpit experience in Billings was extraordinary, and uniquely challenging. Temple Beth Aaron was a historic congregation of about 50 families at the time. During the fall of 1993 several minor but troubling anti-Semitic incidents occurred, and just before Hanukkah two very active member families had their windows, decorated for Hanukkah, smashed. In one case a glass storm door was smashed by a brick; in the second a concrete block was thrown through a boy's bedroom window. While no one was injured the shock was great. Anti-Semitic acts had been essentially unknown before this in Billings, the largest city in Montana but only about 90,000 people then.
Within a day or so of the second attack the story was on the front page of the Billings Gazette, and there was huge local publicity. Since the family in the second attack was very active in the Montana Human Rights Network, they organized the local churches to pass out pictures of menorahs that Sunday, and soon homes all over Billings had menorahs in their windows. A local convenience store chain did the same, and a sporting goods store put up a marquee sign that read "NOT IN OUR TOWN." The positive response to these evil acts was spreading like wildfire. Oddly, some Christians who put up the menorahs even had their Christmas decorations vandalized. The story was picked up quickly by national news outlets, and they descended on Billings.
I was contacted by the Human Rights Network and local ministers who wished to show support for the Jewish community by attending our Hanukkah Shabbat. Our sanctuary, in a pinch, could have held perhaps 100 people, including standing room. We arranged to do a candlelight rally across the street before services, and then to have the windows open during the service so the many people who came could hear and participate in the service.
The rally drew 450 people, and we spoke from a truck bed using a portable sound system. It was a remarkable experience, and very powerful one, seeing and hearing all the support of the Billings community. The Police Chief, Wayne Inman, provided support and protection. I still have the photo of the president of the congregation, David Myers, lighting the menorah with me. The service that followed was beautiful--we had prepared a musical ensemble and choir for the occasion--and when I spoke about Joseph and the Maccabees and the danger of hiding Jewish identity I knew that it would be controversial. The sanctuary was ringed outside with people holding candles and sharing the service through the open windows, making certain that no one disturbed our worship.
After Hanukkah we quickly organized a strong interfaith clergy group in Billings, and the rest of the year evolved to include a series of interfaith events, including an interfaith-inclusive Passover Seder for about 250 people at the Catholic Church that filled up so quickly they had to turn away many people, and a concert at the American Lutheran Church of Jewish cantorial music that I performed that drew close to 500 people. At Passover as well an author came to town and the book she created became "The Christmas Menorahs", still a popular children's book.
It was an amazing example of the way that creating solidarity with people with strong religious and community values makes all the difference in the world in responding to Anti-Semitism, and to racism and hatred of all kinds. In other words, the best way to respond to Anti-Semitism is to demonstrate that the responses to it will actually create greater respect for others in society, more understanding and far stronger bonds of community that cross all the lines of religion, race and identity.
May we remember this great lesson, and apply to the strange and challenging times we are living in today. And may we all work to demonstrate that understanding and respect can and will triumph over hate and conspiracy theories this time, and every time.