Throughout history, being Jewish has not always been easy. In fact, it rarely has. For some reason, much of humanity have persecuted and expelled us, even tried to wipe out every Jew on the planet. The question I have always asked, from a very young age is: why? Why should we be the religious group who are bullied and killed, discriminated against and made to feel ashamed of who we are? To this day, I do not have an answer. The only remotely satisfactory one is that people are scared of things that are different, and when people are scared, they put up walls and begin to try to squash the root of their fear. Jews are not the only victims of this twisted horror; black people, women and Muslims (to name a few) have all been subject to it at different points in time.
I know, of course, that living in modern-day Britain I am very lucky. My skin is white, and therefore I have not been subject to nearly the amount of prejudice as some of my friends and extended family who are people of colour. I have never had insults shouted at me as I walk down the street, and I have never been followed around a shop by a suspicious shopkeeper for no reason but the way I look. I am profoundly grateful for that good fortune, and I strive to understand the struggles that people of colour face in this country. I would never for one second diminish the abhorrent behavior that they are on the receiving end of every single day. But I am well aware that, in many parts of the world or even three quarters of a century ago, I would not necessarily have guaranteed the privilege that I unjustly have today.
When people ask me if I have ever been on the receiving end of anti-Semitic (prejudice against Jewish people) abuse, I answer honestly: yes. People have told me that they hate all Jews, sometimes not knowing that I am Jewish myself, and sometimes in full knowledge of it. I have been told that Jews are not prejudiced against and that antisemitism doesn’t really count as racism, for want of a better word. My family have been called names like 'dirty Jew', something that I have thankfully escaped so far. Less dramatically, I have lived for nearly thirteen years in a society that is unconsciously biased against Jews, doing noticeable things like putting up murals of Jews running the world, and more subtle ones like portraying Jewish people as villains, money and power hungry, who care about none other than themselves, things I see too often in television and the media. And I have not, by a long way, had it the worst.
Even high up in our legal system, in our second most powerful political party, an anti-Semitic (as well as being simply incompetent) oaf was allowed to remain in power for five years, and eventually suspended from his party. Only to be allowed back in again shortly after.
Before the pandemic swept the globe, I went to synagogue on a weekly basis and was having lessons in preparation of my bat mitzvah (Jewish coming of age ceremony). I often heard stories in the news of extreme terrorists storming synagogues or Jewish communities with guns and shooting people dead. I have never, luckily, come anywhere close to that kind of disgusting act, but I was all too aware that it could have been me. Every Saturday, every Friday, it could have been me. My synagogue has a security program whereby the members are on a rota to stand outside the building to ward off potential attackers. The people doing their shift were provided with stab-proof vests, but I still feared for my dad’s safety every time he stood out in the dark round the back of the building. During the first lockdown, one of my synagogue’s Zoom services was hacked by someone who spouted racist and anti-Semitic abuse as well as swearing repeatedly in the chat.
Just because, in ancient times, a passage in the New Testament led to the job of money-lending falling on the Jews, that does not mean that all Jews seek money and power and want to rule the world. It does not mean that Jews deserve to have obscenities hurled at them while they attempt to pray, or that our own political parties are not a safe environment for Jewish MPs, as some former and current Labour members have revealed. Just because the Israeli government, the vast majority of whom are Jewish, have behaved unacceptably towards the Palestinian people in a way that almost all Jews, and all that I know, condemn, that does not mean that Jews are evil and that Jews and Muslims can never be friends, as I have heard people say. Because I, having many Muslim friends, some of whom I would say are some of my closest in the world, am one of many living contradictions to that fact.
This Thursday the 27th, it is Holocaust Memorial Day, and I, like many others, will remember those including members of my family who were brutally taken too soon. My family and I will observe two minutes of silence at noon, and at 8:00 pm we will put a candle in our window for passers-by to see. Perhaps you could do the same.
Being Jewish is not just an endless struggle though - in fact it is the opposite. Through my religion and my culture, I have been exposed to many wonderful things - festivals, food, traditions, other languages, interesting people. My life is enriched and made better because of my Judaism, as it is for the others Jews I know. Our conversations at home are peppered with Yiddish words and phrases. I light the menorah on Chanukah, I have learnt beautiful melodies and songs in English and Hebrew, I have made cinnamon balls for Passover with my dad and latkes with my mum. I have managed to educate people about being Jewish and what being Jewish really means. Most of all, I have gained a community.
Having had my (very different) bat mitzvah this year in the middle of the pandemic, I have been thinking about what it really means to be Jewish. It isn’t about keeping kosher or praying at every spare moment. It’s about loving, and doing unto others as you would have them do to you. And if there’s one thing that I want you to take from this article, I hope it is that.
To find out more about Holocaust Memorial Day and how you can remember people this year, click here
If you’re worried, upset or affected by any of the themes raised in this article, talk to a trusted adult or contact us via our website.
You can also visit Young Minds at https://youngminds.org.uk/ or call Childline at 08001111.
Disclaimer: This article may be an opinion article and be subject to bias; it also may not reflect the views of The Curious Times.