10 June 27 • 2019
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omething needed to be done. 
With tensions rising between 
African Americans and Jews, 
it was time to reaffirm the need for 
both a greater emphasis on mutual 
understanding and recognition that 
hate poses a threat to 
both groups. Kudos 
to the American 
Jewish Committee 
for its work in help-
ing to create a new 
Black-Jewish Caucus 
in the U.S. House of 
Representatives. The 
AJC’
s initiative brought 
together Jews and blacks, Republicans 
as well as Democrats in an effort to 
bridge the growing divide between 
the two communities, including some 
well-known names like Rep. Debbie 
Wasserman-Schultz (D-Fla.); the for-
mer head of the Democratic National 
Committee, Rep. Hakeem Jeffries 
(D-N.Y.); the head of the House 
Democratic Caucus, Rep. John Lewis 
(D-Ga.), an icon of the civil-rights 
movement; and Rep. Lee Zeldin 
(R-N.Y.), a leading congressional 
supporter of U.S. President Donald 
Trump.
But while the symbolism is valuable, 
the question remains as to wheth-
er this caucus will be of any use in 
combating all forms of hate. At first 
glance, the caucus seems like it will 

primarily be working to do something 
easy — combating white supremacism 
— rather than the much more difficult 
job of uniting Americans of all races 
and political affiliations against the 
growing threat of left-wing anti-Semi-
tism and hate that has been produced 
by intersectional ideology.
It makes sense that blacks and Jews 
should come together to work against 
white-nationalist extremists. Those 
who support the neo-Nazis, Ku Klux 
Klan and similar groups view both 
blacks and Jews as objects of hatred 
and targets for violence. Whether it’
s 
a black church in Charleston or syn-
agogues in Pittsburgh or Poway, such 
armed extremists present a clear and 
present danger.
These tragic incidents provide a 
reminder to both blacks and Jews 
that the far-right despises them both, 
and that the bonds forged during the 
struggle for civil rights a half-centu-
ry ago need to be rediscovered and 
nurtured. There is a need to rekindle 
a sense of shared values and commit-
ment that must extend throughout 
both communities. The creation of 
this caucus does have the potential to 
set the kind of example that can help 
in that respect. But by announcing 
that its exclusive focus will be oppos-
ing white nationalism, it’
s not clear 
that it will do much to undermine the 
forces and the ideas that are driving 
blacks and Jews apart.
The tragedies in Pittsburgh and 

Poway shone a light on the threat 
from racist extremists. But as shocking 
as those crimes were, the fact remains 
that support for white nationalism 
remains confined to the fever swamps 
of American life. Though they have 
loud voices on the internet and have 
inspired a few individuals to com-
mit acts of mass murder, those who 
support such groups are smaller in 
number. Nor do they have any back-
ing from within the mainstream of 
American society or political life.
So while stating opposition to such 
groups is necessary, it also doesn’
t 
require much political courage. The 
same cannot be said for standing up 
against left-wing anti-Semitism.
The BDS movement promotes an 
anti-Semitic ideology that seeks to 
destroy the Jewish state, and to isolate 
and intimidate Jews who support it. 
It has established a growing foothold 
on North American college campuses. 
More importantly, in the last year, it 
gained a beachhead in Congress with 
the election of two members: Reps. 
Ilhan Omar (D-Minn.) and Rashida 
Tlaib (D-Mich.), who are open sup-
porters of BDS and who have traf-
ficked in anti-Semitic invective.
Yet while Republicans disciplined 
Rep. Steve King (R-Iowa) — the one 
member of their caucus with ties to 
white nationalists — Democrats have 
embraced Omar and Tlaib as new 
and exciting leaders of their party. 
While some prominent Democrats 

condemned the hate speech by these 
congresswomen, the party refused to 
strip them of their committee assign-
ments, as the GOP did to King, leav-
ing Omar on the prestigious Foreign 
Affairs Committee. The Congressional 
Black Caucus was particularly vocal in 
defending them. 
Given the polarized political cli-
mate, those Democrats who joined the 
new caucus deserve credit for being 
willing to work with Republicans 
under any circumstances. That’
s espe-
cially true with respect to someone 
like Zeldin, who has been vilified by 
left-wingers. Palestinian-American 
activist/hatemonger and Women’
s 
March Leader Linda Sarsour, who 
has promoted the lie that anyone who 
calls out Omar and Tlaib for their 
anti-Semitism is an Islamaphobe, has 
been especially vocal in denouncing 
the caucus.
Unless the Black-Jewish Caucus is 
going to denounce Omar, Tlaib and 
the BDS movement, it will be ignoring 
the variety of anti-Semitism that has 
the most support in contemporary 
America — and not doing much to 
stop hate. ■

Editor’
s Note: Michigan Rep. Brenda Lawrence, 
who represents the 14th 
 District, which 
includes much of the Jewish News’
 circulation 
area, was a founding member of the Black-
Jewish Caucus.

Jonathan S. Tobin is editor in chief of the Jewish 
News Syndicate. 

commentary
Can a Black-Jewish Congressional Caucus Bridge the Divide?

Jonathan S. 
Tobin

commentary continued from page 6

beloved sister, the parents arrested and 
never seen again.
As the Holocaust recedes in time, 
some Americans (and Europeans) 
are becoming increasingly casual and 
disrespectful to the mass murder of 
millions. More dangerous, today the 
internet disseminates insensitive or 
hateful remarks with unprecedented 
ease and influence. Online discussions 
tend to encourage extreme opinions; 
they allow people to live in echo 
chambers of their own ideologies and 
peers. Weimar Germany 
— 
the period 
between the First World War and the 
Nazi rise to power 
 — 
is an exemplar 
of the threats that emerge when the 

political center fails to hold, when 
social trust is allowed to erode and the 
fissures exploited.
Quality Holocaust education may 
have the potential to bridge some of 
the divides our nation is experiencing. 
It enables people to pause. To step 
away from the problems and debates 
of the present. To be challenged by this 
catastrophic event of the past. That is 
what good history education does. It 
doesn’
t preach. It teaches. It engages 
at a personal level. It promotes self-re-
flection and critical thinking about the 
world and one’
s own roles and respon-
sibilities. That engagement is lost 
when we resort to grossly simplified 

Holocaust analogies. And it demeans 
the memory of the dead.
Writing in 1953, the British novelist 
L.P. Hartley said, “The past is a foreign 
country; they do things differently 
there.” Comparing and categorizing are 
natural human impulses. We all use 
categories and analogies to navigate 
through life. But the nature of Nazi 
crimes demands that we study the evi-
dence, alert ourselves to warning signs, 
wrestle with the world’
s moral fail-
ure. When we reduce it to a flattened 
morality tale, we forfeit the chance 
to learn from its horrific specificity. 
We lose sight of the ordinary human 
choices that made genocide possible.

Careless Holocaust analogies may 
demonize, demean and intimidate 
their targets. But there is a cost for 
all of us because they distract from 
the real issues challenging our society 
because they shut down productive, 
thoughtful discourse. At a time when 
our country needs dialogue more 
than ever, it is especially dangerous to 
exploit the memory of the Holocaust 
as a rhetorical cudgel. We owe the 
survivors more than that. And we owe 
ourselves more than that. ■

Edna Friedberg, Ph.D., is a historian in the U.S. 
Holocaust Memorial Museum’
s William Levine 
Family Institute for Holocaust Education.

