In
late January, a man tossed a Molotov cocktail — a firebomb — into the entrance
of a New Jersey synagogue in the middle of the night.
In
early February, a man walked into a San Francisco synagogue firing blank shots from a
gun during a religious gathering. And in the suburbs of Atlanta that same week, Jewish families found
flyers with antisemitic images and messages littering their driveways.
These
terrifying incidents are only a fraction of a disturbing trend in American
culture. That trend is especially visible on the far right, whose anti-semitism
is now louder, bolder, and more aggressive than it’s been in most of our
lifetimes .
At times like these, all of us need to be better neighbors to each other. This got me thinking about an experience I had 15 years ago as a city council member in Ithaca, New York.
A
local rabbi approached me then and explained that in traditional Jewish
communities, certain types of work and activities — like carrying objects
outside the home — are prohibited on the Sabbath.
Tradition
accommodates this restriction by creating a larger area called an eruv: a space that defines home as several houses and
streets within a community. The boundaries of the eruv are designated by
markers around the neighborhood, often attached to utility poles and wires.
The
eruv symbolically enlarges the home, so the necessities of faith and of daily
life can coexist.
For
years, the rabbi said, the Jewish community had asked to put up eruv markers in
parts of Ithaca, but the city council hadn’t responded. I was happy to help and
even happier that we got it done. But there was some pushback from some of my
colleagues, who opposed what they called “catering” to a religious community.
That
deeply saddened me then and now. Here’s why.
Whether
your views align with the right or the left, many of us are clear that
antisemitism among white supremacists, militant extremists, Christian
nationalists, and other bigots poses a deadly threat to all of us.
That
has been true for a long time — it’s one reason Black, Jewish, and progressive
communities were such strong allies to each other during the civil rights era.
But for a variety of cultural and political reasons, I now worry these alliances
are fraying. When good people are not aligned in opposition, tolerance for
division and evil becomes commonplace.
Think
of Nick Fuentes, the far-right activist who grabbed headlines for his dinner
with Donald Trump and Ye (formerly known as Kanye West). Fuentes and Ye have
openly praised Adolf Hitler. Not long ago, this would have been unthinkable in
public life.
The
way to combat the rising tide of hate and fragmented solidarity is with a
strong, progressive, multiracial coalition. All of us must come together to
dismantle the forces behind the divide-and-conquer agendas intended to harm
Jewish and Black people, along with immigrants, women, LGBTQ people, and indeed
most communities in one way or another.
In
other words, like the eruv, our
communities need to symbolically enlarge our home.
I’m
reminded of a quote by Rabbi Leonard Beerman: “We need those who have the
courage to be ashamed, who have the muscle to care. And more than caring, we
need those who will preserve and cultivate an enduring vision of the good, who
will maintain a vision of the future as a permanent possibility in the
present.”
Our
real and symbolic home should be with each other, where we are united by our
shared humanity and where hate by any name is excluded. Let’s make that space,
and welcome each other in.
Svante Myrick is the president of People for the
American Way and a former mayor of
Ithaca, New York. This op-ed was distributed by OtherWords.org.
