Hometown Antisemitism During a War Abroad

Before October 7, 2023, I was a proud progressive Jew here in San Leandro. Before October 7, I was a friend of our local Social Justice Academy and our resident Democratic Socialists of America chapter. Before October 7, I never would have believed that Jews were endangered by leftist antisemitism. After October 7, I learned how very wrong I was. In the wake of the Hamas massacre, fallen friends and alleged allies turned their backs. People I've stood with for police reform, housing, healthcare, and social justice here in San Leandro now embrace antisemitism, tokenization, and conspiracy theories, promoting the very same bigotry they claim to oppose. Just as we have seen in Oakland, Richmond, Berkeley, and San Francisco, the cause of Palestinian liberation has been hijacked for divisive attacks on Jewish people rather than advocating for peace and the sanctity of human life.

I write publicly now because as Rabbi Abraham Kook taught, "I don't speak because I have the power to speak; I speak because I don't have the power to remain silent." While I don't have enough words to tell 3,000 years of my people's history or the events of the last few months, I have just enough of them to tell part of my story.

Since October 7, I have faced death threats, violence, harassment, and intimidation. I have been literally chased out of coffee shops and city council chambers. People have demeaned me asking, "who are you?" "what are you doing here?" "do you work for Israel?" I've been accosted by others saying, "we know your name," "I know his name now, we know this guy, we know your last name," "we will find you," "you'll be seeing us again soon," "you can't hide." A few have filmed me close up and posted my face to dox me. One individual even confronted a non-Jewish friend of mine with their baby, yelling so belligerently that I feared my continued presence would escalate into violence and I had to leave. I have been dehumanized, called slurs like "kike," "murderer," "cultist," "Zionist pig," and "Zionist dog."

To be clear: I am a Zionist, like most Jews. I support Palestinian liberation, also like most Jews. I condemn the atrocities of Hamas and of the Israeli Government, again like most Jews. Zionism means the right of Jewish people to self-determination in our ancestral homeland. For most Jews, that means caring about the existence of the State of Israel as a peaceful, democratic society where Jews and Gentiles can live freely.

Meanwhile, in Ramat Gan, my family are suffering constant rocket attacks from Northern Lebanon and Gaza. They have to evacuate their homes regularly. My younger cousins are being drafted into the military and sent off to fight. Near Sderot, friends of mine have been missing for months now and are presumed dead. Innocent Palestinian civilians are suffering too, bombings, firefights, starvation, and all the horrors of war and death. It was started by Hamas who committed the worst killing of Jews since the Holocaust, perpetuating mass rapes, murdering babies, mutilating and burning the dead, as well as abducting hundreds of hostages. It may be finished with the Israeli government killing thousands to try and stop them, only to ultimately fail and for a two-state solution to remain a flickering dream.

I've put my life and life's work on the line for social justice, including with many of the people who've since become the very same ones attacking me and my family. They were my friends and allies, and I cannot adequately express the hardship of seeing seemingly otherwise good and kind people turn so quickly to hatred and malice. It's a deep-seated fear borne out of the trauma from not just the Holocaust, but hundreds of years of anti-Jewish persecution across the world. It's the very real question that every Jew has to ask themselves, if they come for me and my family, who will help protect us?

Rabbi Bogard taught, "When we mistake emotional pain with moral clarity we burn the world while believing that we're lighting the way." Yet far too many of my fellow leftists, former friends, and erstwhile allies have lied with abandon about Jewish history and humanity, subverted the trauma of the Holocaust (in which many members of my extended family were murdered), promoted conspiracies about Zionism and Jewish supremacy, tokenized the most unhinged fringe groups of the Jewish community to attack us, as well as targeted innocent people who don't immediately agree with their bigotry.

I'm tired of watching fellow San Leandrans deny the pain of Jewish people here and abroad. I'm tired of seeing Palestinians suffer while their allies make a ceasefire even harder to achieve. I'm tired of being held responsible for the actions of a nation I'm not even a citizen of. I'm tired of Gentiles using the worst atrocities against Jews as a cudgel, claiming we didn't learn their preferred lessons from our suffering. I'm tired of innocent people dying while we have the same arguments over and over again because others refuse to educate themselves about Jewish history and the roots of this conflict. I'm tired of watching my people be exploited and used as a political football. I'm tired of seeing carefully constructed coalitions destroyed by fools. I'm tired of gentiles telling me not to worry because I'm "one of the good ones." I'm tired of grifters and bigots and clout chasers taking advantage of a time of crisis even as the world seemingly ignores every other crisis happening around us. I'm tired of having to justify my existence, defend my humanity, and fear for the safety of my family. I'm tired of having to parade my pain. I'm tired of people forcing others to parade theirs.

So here is my request: reject toxicity and turmoil. Take a stand in solidarity with Jews, Muslims, Arabs, Israelis, Palestinians, and all others affected by this conflict. Listen to our stories and accept that we are all in pain, that our trauma is valid, and that this cycle of violence cannot continue. If we can start by recognizing each other's humanity with understanding and compassion, perhaps we can build a peace here at home that might inspire a greater peace abroad.

I hope the worst I fear doesn't come to pass and yet, I know I'll be ready if it does.

Take note and take care.