Jews
Andrew Sullivan is on to something when he says that Mark Steyn is onto something in his latest column. (How's that for blog-parody fodder?) I'm sure that there is not one blog-reading soul who has not read Steyn's latest column (I don't even bother to link to them anymore-- it seems redundant) but, to summarize, Steyn notes that in his latest piece on Daniel Pearl's murder, Robert Fisk can't bring himself to use the word "Jew" in the entire column. Sullivan:
When I was in England, I listened to the BBC a lot to hear how they were reporting the war. In every case I heard when the story obviously required recognition that pathological anti-Semitism was behind some action in the Muslim world – Iran’s refusal to accept a new British ambassador because he was a Jew, Daniel Pearl’s capture and murder because he was a Jew – the BBC either ignored it, or buried it. Of course well-meaning journalists did exactly the same thing in the 1930s. But we know better now, don’t we?
To American eyes, the British appear to be uncomfortable, hesitant, reluctant, reserved, and skittish about practically everything. To be a good "conversationalist" among the English is to have mastered the art of avoiding the right topic in the right way at precisely the right moment. The question arises: why is "the Jew" one of those topics? Despite Sullivan's mention of the 1930s, I don't think it reflects anything so simple or alarming as a widespread under-current of '30s-style anti-Semitism. Yet, as in the '30s, the habit of failing to mention or down-playing anti-Semitism when it comes up can amount to a de facto endorsement of it, which is what makes the well-meaning lefty's defensiveness seem pernicious. The consistent inability or refusal, a la the New Statesman, to grasp this obvious fact is yet another stupefying mystery.
It's a complicated question that encompasses many areas, and I can't answer it. I'm sure it has to do with (a) the long-standing tradition of British support for Arab nationalist causes; (b) a defensiveness on the part of the children of the socialist ideological heritage about the tradition of anti-Semitism on the Left (I believe that largely explains the New Statesman's nutty editorial stance); (c) a crude anti-Americanism-- another part of the socialist heritage-- which seeks a reflexive common cause with enemies of America's allies and interests; (d) the related contrarian spirit of the various media, who wish to appear to be bold "truth-speakers" in the face of a status quo of entrenched opinion, almost regardless of whether the position is right or wrong; (e) a well-intentioned desire to appear even-handed and neutral, coupled with the feeling that to take a position on contentious moral disputes is itself suspect; and (f) the feeling-- related to (d)-- that a "sensible balance" must be maintained by leaning toward the position that appears to be losing ground.
You could probably fill out the list well past the end of the alphabet, but I'm going to stop at (e) and (f) because I think they're the most salient and interesting. The scourge of moral relativism, the tribalism of identity politics, the elevation of lack of moral clarity to a perverse self-sustaining "virtue": these are the unfortunate intellectual hallmarks of our age. I dare say this complex is even more entrenched among America's intellectuals than it is in Britain, but British media elites, like American academics, seem to stick to it with unusual determination. Of course, maintaining a "sensible balance" between the position of those (Nazis or Islamofascists or what have you) who want to kill the Jews vs. those who wish to prevent them from killing the Jews requires "leaning" like crazy. It's a crazy endeavor that practically no one would admit to engaging in. It's just not possible without avoiding the issue. Fisk, like many of his colleagues, keeps giving it his best shot, to his considerable discredit. And it seems to be true all over Europe, unfortunately. Natalie Solent returned from her sojourn in France and had to learn from this blog that the last words of Daniel Pearl were "I am Jew and my father was a Jew." The French newspapers she read made no mention of it. That, without a doubt, is avoiding the issue. Yet it's ultimately an issue that can't be avoided, no matter how discomfiting or embarrassing it may be to a people who above all dislike discomfort and embarrassment.
I believe that such discomfort may well be what lies behind the constant defensive proclamation of an inalienable right to criticize Israel without being "labelled" anti-Semitic. Of course criticizing Israel and its policies isn't necessarily anti-Semitic. Most such criticism is not. But doing so while championing the cause of those who deny Israel's legitimacy and who would kill the Jews if they were allowed the chance; while referring to suicide bombers as "activists" as though they were doing no more than handing out leaflets or selling raffle tickets; while expressing bland equanimity about the Karin-A shipment of weapons and the danger it represents, insisting on seeing Israel's security "in context" yet straining to avoid mention of the "context" that millions of Jews were slaughtered because the great nations of the world were unwilling or unable to give them refuge when last they were threatened? There are many words for this, but surely "anti-Semitism" is at least a relevant topic. Is it unfair, impolite, impolitic to raise the issue? Many seem to believe so.
Whether or not they are anti-Semites, critics of Israel have noticed that anti-Israel sentiments tend to sound a bit less distasteful if you avoid the word "Jew," and many would prefer that it just not come up. Deborah Orr's extraordinary Independent op-ed (the one that kicked off the infamous New Statesman "Kosher Conspiracy" cover story) reflects the discomfiture as well as the denial of the anti-Israel British Left. It's not fair, she says: just because we say things that make us sound anti-Semitic doesn't mean we really are. Perhaps not. But I'm reminded of certain kids I knew in college who, when confronted with lies they approved of as well as those of which they did not, used to remark "oh, that's just what the words say." You can't really blame the listener if "what the words say" isn't what you mean. Neither can you change reality simply by choosing your words more carefully.
The word "Jew" is avoided because it, just on its own, is an argument against moral equivalence. In its single syllable is a world of meaning that calls into question an entire relativistic world-view that animates an entire intellectual culture. It summons to mind a history that is undeniable, that everybody knows, and in which right is clearly demarcated from wrong beyond all question. Regardless of intent, statements about "the Jews" unavoidably echo the rhetoric of the worst murderers the world has ever known. That doesn't mean that it's never legitimate to criticize Israel or Jews, certainly; but it does mean that one must think very carefully about what is meant when people speak this way, even, indeed, if they leave out some of the words. Unfortunately, people are speaking this way all over the middle east. It's abundantly clear that, whatever their motivations, it's not "just rhetoric." You don't need Daniel Pearl's murder to demonstrate this, but it is a demonstration of it. Some people would rather not let the truth get in the way of the theory. I think that's why Robert Fisk could not permit himself to write that they killed Daniel Pearl because he was a Jew.
Posted by Dr. Frank at March 1, 2002 05:42 PM | TrackBack