In the wake of recent attacks at American Jewish gatherings — in Boulder, CO and Washington, D.C. — we’ve seen responses of solace and responses of hostility. We've seen contentious conversations about what is driving this violence. Is it antisemitism, misdirected anger towards the actions of the Israeli government in Gaza, or is it both? Or, in some disturbing instances, we’ve seen questions about whether these acts are justified or unworthy of grief.
These attacks are tragic, terrifying, and indefensible. Our hearts are heavy. Our grief is palpable, compounded. And no label or categorization for the violence will negate its effects:
We, and many Jews in the U.S. and around the world, feel fear and pain — from recent threats and violence and from the memories they stir from dark periods in our Jewish history. Afraid that attacking Jewish people is becoming normalized. Afraid of being targeted as Jews or in Jewish spaces, or taking part in civic life.
Many of us feel alone, betrayed, or unsure of who we can trust — an urge to isolate ourselves from other groups, even when we know that our safety as Jews is bound together with safety for all. We may feel torn between those instinctive reactions and staying in the fights for justice alongside our neighbors.
We see people in the highest levels of government attempting to exploit our fear and isolation — using division as a smokescreen to move their own agendas that run counter to our Jewish values. They seek to disassemble the democracy we need to keep Jews, and everyone, safe. When we aren't careful, we risk contributing to their aims too, targeting or pointing the finger at one another in the false name of Jewish safety — immigrants, people of color, protesters, and even other Jews.
And we watch some people use these abominable acts of violence to discredit and vilify the movement to end the devastation and suffering of Palestinians in Gaza (a movement which includes scores of Jews and Israelis). We see others suggest that these attacks on Jews are somehow justified, or unworthy of sympathy, because of the actions of a government abroad. Both responses are shocking, categorically wrong, and have no place in the Jewish community or the progressive movement.
Jewish safety means safety for Jews we agree with and those we disagree with. It means safety for Palestinians. It means we see the safe return of all hostages. It means safety for our neighbors. It means safety for all people.
Our work at Bend the Arc is to build a country where all are safe, living with what they need to thrive. Without fear. As we experience the pain of these attacks, and as we witness increasingly normalized extremist violence, we know we will only move toward our goal together. Jews and non-Jews. All people of conscience who share our vision.
Together, we will build the world to come — Olam Ha’ba.
