Abstract: Prior to Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022, anti-Semitism (in both public discourse and policies and as manifested in the infrequency of anti-Semitic incidents) was at a historical low, and simultaneously Russia’s relationship with Israel was on the rise. Officially, the Kremlin denounced xenophobia and made a crucial distinction between the isolationist ethnic nationalism that it condemned and the broader Russian imperial nationalism that has become Putinism’s dominant framework, especially after 2014. T he war against Ukraine, which Russia conceptualises as the continuation of its “struggle against the Nazis,” is waged in the actual space where the Holocaust took place, and also, semantically, in the historical “bloodlands,” following Timothy Snyder’s term, that intersect with and evoke issues of Jewishness and Anti-Semitism, reactivating all manner of revisionist discourses about war-time collaboration, the Holocaust, and Ukrainian Jewish history. The Russian regime and its propagandists spin various conspiratorial narratives about the war and Ukraine’s leadership that both reactivate dormant Soviet-era prejudices and create new ones (e.g., “sects,” “global Satanism,” “Western elites,” “liberals as the fifth column,” etc.) that are linked to Jewishness. Russian anti-Semitism is an inherently dynamic phenomenon that is shaped by and is included in the escalation in the Middle East, Russia’s war against Ukraine, and Russia’s hostile relations with the “collective West” and as such should be considered within international, domestic, and historical contexts.
Abstract: Dem Staat Israel kommt in Deutschland regelmäßig eine im internationalen Vergleich große Aufmerksamkeit zu. Fast immer geht es hierbei um dessen Rolle im Nahostkonflikt, also in den jahrzehntelang bestehenden politischen Auseinandersetzungen mit den palästinensischen Akteur*innen, arabischen sowie weiteren Staaten der Region (wie etwa dem Iran). Diese Aufmerksamkeit verläuft konjunkturell und folgt dem Verlauf von Eskalationsphasen des Nahostkonflikts. In den letzten Jahre wurde der (mögliche) antisemitische Gehalt "israelkritischer" Positionen zunehmend diskutiert: "Debatten um Fragen des aktuellen Antisemitismus sind immer öfter zugleich Debatten um Wahrnehmungen Israels und des Nahostkonflikts" (Niehoff 2021, 73). Beide Themen werden häufig und zunehmend miteinander assoziiert. Gleichzeitig sind Unklarheiten und Unsicherheiten weit verbreitet, welche Positionierungen gegenüber dem Staat Israel, der sich als Nationalstaat des jüdischen Volkes versteht, als antisemitisch zu bewerten sind (und, so die Konsequenz, moralisch geächtet werden sollten) und welche Haltungen demgegenüber als "kritische" 1 einzustufen sind (und als solche legitimer Teil der kontroversen politischen Auseinandersetzung seien). Zu einer entsprechenden Sensibilisierung haben insbesondere Studien und Berichte mit dem Fokus auf Perspektiven von Betroffenen von Antisemitismus (Zick u.a. 2017a; Bernstein 2020; Chernivsky u.a. 2020) sowie die professionelle zivilgesellschaftliche Arbeit etwa von Monitoringstellen antisemitischer Vorfälle (Bundesverband RIAS/Internationales Institut für Bildung, Sozial-und Antisemitismusforschung 2021) beigetragen. Auch wissenschaftliche Forschung widmet sich verstärkt der Problematik. Deutlich sichtbar wurde diese insbesondere im Mai 2021, als anlässlich von militärischen Auseinandersetzung zwischen der palästinensischen Hamas und der israelischen Armee antiisraelische Demonstrationen in Deutschland stattfanden, in deren Kontext (vermeintliche) jüdische Personen, Synagogen sowie der Staat Israel bedroht und attackiert wurden (vgl. ebd., 14, 51-65). 1 Irritationen entstehen regelmäßig u.a. deswegen, da völlig unterschiedliche Nutzungen von "kritisch" in diesem Zusammenhang existieren (vgl. z.B. Schwarz-Friesel/Reinharz 2013, 194-209). Die Bandbreite reicht von Begriffsverständnissen, die alle nicht-antisemitischen negativen Positionierungen unter "kritisch" subsummieren, andere Verständnisse grenzen den "kritischen" Bereich eng(er) ein.
Abstract: This chapter explains contemporary manifestations of antisemitism in Southeast European football by analysing football fan cultures of three post-Yugoslav states: Croatia, Serbia, and especially Bosnia and Herzegovina, where several antisemitic incidents have occurred during the last decade. The geographic scope is determined by the cultural proximity of these fan cultures, allowing for a comparative analysis of region’s forms of antisemitism, as well as socialist (dis-)continuities of political antisemitism. Whilst international football governing bodies and international media readily condemned the incidents in Bosnia-Herzegovina, social media discussions amongst their football fans proved to be diametrically opposed, especially in the context of the Israeli–Palestinian conflict. The chapter examines the nature of anti-Jewish, anti-Israel, anti-Zionist, and antisemitic fan (and non-fan) practices and narratives, to extrapolate their inherent political nuances and to illustrate their transformations over the last two decades. By evaluating their significance for the wider public discourse, the chapter provides a more nuanced reflection of the issues at stake, within football and beyond.
Abstract: his chapter primarily focuses on antisemitism in French football since the turn of the new millennium, which has seen an intensification of debates about nationality, diversity, and identity in France, as well as a rise in antisemitism. France has historically had few high-profile Jewish players and lacks a major club that is seen as being ‘Jewish’. However, antisemitism has been a very real issue within professional and amateur levels of men’s football in recent decades, with abuse directed at players, team officials, and fans who are – or are perceived to be – Jewish, taking a variety of forms. The chapter examines the broader history of antisemitism in France and how this has influenced the French state’s relationship with religion today and is linked to both contemporary domestic issues and international matters, such as Israeli–Palestinian tensions. In addition, the chapter argues that French football has struggled to tackle, or sought to minimise, several forms of discrimination.
Abstract: Racism and more specifically prejudice against the Jewish community have been consistent throughout Italy’s complex socio-political history, underpinned by the Catholic Church’s marginalisation and fascist persecution of ‘Jewishness’. While Italian antisemitism is mainly ‘low intensity’, it is pervasive and enduring in the way it normalises prejudices and conspiracy theories that portray Jews as avaricious, controlling, and powerful, which prevail in contemporary political discourse. The localised nature of Italian fandom, which encourages the abuse of others based on traits deemed feminine, foreign, or weak – has historically reproduced and arguably reinforced dominant ideas on race and antisemitic prejudices that prevail in Italian society, as this chapter will explain. Despite many prominent antisemitic instances involving owners, administrators and especially fans, the Italian Football Federation has been slow to tackle the issue. Drawing upon empirical research on Italian ultras – a fan culture centred around neo-fascist and neo-Nazi symbols and ideologies – this chapter situates Jewish communities within Italy and explains the nature of antisemitism within Italian football, as well as failures to combat it and other forms of discrimination.
Abstract: Despite efforts by clubs, fans, and officials to combat discrimination and hate speech, antisemitism in German football and fan cultures still persists today. Antisemitism is expressed by supporters, players, coaches, club and league officials, security personal, and others. In most cases, no Jews need to be present to stimulate antisemitic behaviour. This chapter argues that contemporary antisemitism in and around German football is manifest in five different forms, which are explained with illustrative examples: far-right antisemitism; classical antisemitism; secondary antisemitism; antisemitism against Jewish Makkabi clubs; and antisemitic ressentiment-communication. This chapter also questions who does what against antisemitism in German football. By looking at each actor individually – football’s governing bodies; professional clubs; social pedagogical fan projects; stadium security and police; third sector organisations; and fans – it is evident that neither a common nor a long-term strategy exists, although a broad range of activities and actions take place, often initiated by, or implemented after, the pressure of fan groups.
Abstract: Today, Hungary’s Jewish population, that was decimated by the Holocaust, totals about 47,200, the largest in East Central Europe. This chapter provides an historical overview of the complex political and socio-cultural conditions, key events, and regime changes since the end of the 19th century to explain the Jewish community’s experience and how antisemitism has manifested in Hungarian society and how this, in turn, is reflected in Hungary’s football culture. Antisemitism has found expression in contemporary Hungary in extreme right-wing nationalist ideology through enduring stereotypes and allegations of Jewish conspiracy, wealth, and power, epitomised by the treatment of the Hungarian-born, Jewish-American philanthropist George Soros. The chapter explains how football has been used by successive Hungarian regimes for political purposes, including by the current long-serving leader Viktor Orbán, who has dismissed accusations of antisemitism and enjoys cordial relations with Israel. It considers the pre-1945 anti-Jewish legislation of the state and Hungarian Football Federation (MLSZ), as well as the verbal and physical atrocities suffered by Jews, mostly notably MTK Budapest by rivals Ferencváros Torna Club (FTC or Fradi), because of their Jewishness. Finally, the chapter looks at attempts to challenge antisemitism in Hungarian football.
Abstract: This chapter outlines the character, causes and extent of antisemitism within English football. This has included several high-profile incidents within English men’s football involving professional players, coaches, officials, and especially supporters. The chapter begins with a short historical background to the presence of Jews and antisemitism in England before moving onto the current situation and then considering how antisemitism is manifest within English football. The chapter expounds why Tottenham historically developed a quasi-Jewish identity that serves as a catalyst for antisemitic abuse from rival supporters. In doing so, the chapter examines the different subcultural meanings and intentions behind the controversial uses of the word ‘Yid’ within the context of English football supporter culture, which has been re-appropriated by Tottenham fans. Finally, the chapter critically reviews the responses to antisemitism in English football by governing bodies within the sport, Jewish community organisations, campaign groups, the criminal justice system, and professional football clubs.
Abstract: In recent decades, comedy studies have displayed a concern with understanding the power dynamics and cultural norms shaping the ‘marginal’ and ‘mainstream’ in comedy. Rarely, however, have intersecting norms concerning religion, gender and race been taken as a point of departure in this field. Through a qualitative analysis of Creeger’s 2022 set Pray It Forward! and of a semi-structured interview conducted with the comedian in August 2022, this chapter explores precisely these issues. Stand-up comedian Rachel Creeger, whose work is the central focus of this chapter, experiences particular intersecting forms of marginalization as an Orthodox Jewish woman on the normatively secular British comedy circuit. She experiences both covert misogyny and anti-Semitism, and more subtle forms of exclusion. At the same time, the frame of marginality is not always experienced by Creeger as a straightforwardly ‘negative’ thing. Instead, Creeger’s comedy complicates the frame of ‘marginality’ through an emphasis on the advantages of having a ‘unique voice’ and on the relatability of her material. Specifically, a repertoire of popular culture references in Creeger’s material blurs the imagined binary between the categories of ‘religion’ and ‘the secular’ and implicitly disrupts norms concerning religion and gender entangled with this binary frame.
Abstract: Cette contribution tente d’approcher les sentiments nourris par le souvenir du Yiddishland à la fin du XXe siècle et au début du XXIe siècle. Elle cherche, afin d’aborder cette sphère habitée par l’ancrage familial, traversée par des antagonismes idéologiques, hantée par le souvenir de l’émigration et de l’intégration ainsi que celui de souffrances inouïes et longtemps indicibles, à suivre les représentations idéales d’un monde perdu, dans le domaine de la culture et dans celui des utopies politiques, en s’intéressant d’une part à des aspects du renouveau de l’expression culturelle yiddish en France au cours des trois dernières décennies, en particulier dans la chanson (Jacques Grober, Violette Szmajer, Batia Baum, Michèle Tauber et le groupe du Paon doré) ; d’autre part aux survivances des motifs d’utopie politique trouvant leur source dans l’épopée idéologique et historique du Yiddishland (Charles Melman, Mojsze Zalcman) ; enfin à la réappropriation de la mémoire véhiculée par le yiddish telle qu’elle peut être perçue dans les interviews réalisées par Max Kohn entre 2006 et 2016. Cette recherche, tentative d’exploration d’un cheminement affectif vers le yiddish de la part d’un enfant né à cette époque en Israël et ayant grandi en France dans une famille non yiddishophone, se limitera à certaines expressions de cette mémoire et de ces motifs d’espérance en France, sans s’interdire de les mettre en rapport avec des expressions analogues dans d’autres pays de la diaspora juive ou en Israël.
Abstract: Aujourd’hui, le djudyó (judéo-espagnol) n’est plus transmis en France. Des associations, comme Aki Estamos, offrent aux personnes qui le parlent ou le comprennent la possibilité de suivre des cours de langue. Les participants, sans être des locuteurs à part entière, ne sont pas non plus des apprenants stricto sensu, puisqu’ils possèdent des compétences linguistiques acquises dans leur enfance. Dans leur cas, la dichotomie entre acquisition et apprentissage est inopérante. Il convient d’identifier les objectifs de ces locuteurs-apprenants, qui suivent les cours sans développer de nouvelles compétences langagières. Ce sont les mots et leurs sonorités qui montent alors sur le devant de la scène, délaissant la grammaire. Le cadre des cours constitue un prétexte pour retrouver une langue et un monde disparus. M’appuyant sur l’observation participante, j’esquisserai les profils linguistiques de ces participants pour tenter d’en comprendre la démarche.
Abstract: Since the unification of the two German states in 1990, antisemitic attitudes have been repeatedly polled in cross-sectional or longitudinal national surveys (e.g., the long-term GFE surveys). So far, comparative studies analyzing the development of antisemitism in East and West Germany over a longer time period are scarce. The study covers a time span of 30 years to investigate two forms of antisemitism (classical and secondary), especially with respect to inner-German differences. Applying model-based age-period-cohort analyses (APC) with a total of 19 available representative surveys (maximal period: 1991–2021), theory-driven hypotheses are tested. The statistical approach and respective findings are discussed with emphasis on several challenges accompanying the utilized heterogenous data and different survey modes. Findings reveal that life-cycle effects play a decisive role in the attitudinal development and distribution of antisemitic attitudes. Moreover, approval of antisemitism is to some extent cohort related in both East and West Germany, while disentangling period effects empirically poses challenges due to data limitations. Furthermore, the observed APC structures differ for classical and secondary antisemitism. The chapter concludes with a critical discussion of the results, limitations, and some further thoughts on the open science philosophy in applied social science research.
Abstract: As elsewhere in eastern and southern Europe, many Jewish communities in Greece were almost completely destroyed during the Holocaust, which resulted in the near erasure of many distinctive religious and cultural practices. Among these erased communities were the Romaniote Jews, an Indigenous Judeo-Greek population distinct from the Sephardic Jews who arrived in Greece following the Spanish Inquisition. The cultural losses included their musical practices, which were largely orally transmitted. A few Romaniote leaders and practitioners continue the musical-liturgical traditions today in Greece, as well as in the United States and Israel. The living practice of this musical liturgy that is ever-changing in the typical manner of orally transmitted repertoires arguably embodies a process of remembering destruction. This process is shown by the imprint of gaps in memory caused by rupture embedded in the repertoire. While remembering destruction is an intrinsically Jewish practice, it is of specific importance to the Jews of Ioannina (a city that once was, and arguably still is, the spiritual center of Romaniote Jews) and their descendants. In the past decade, an annual pilgrimage to Ioannina to attend a Romaniote Yom Kippur service has become a pivotal experience for both Romaniote Jews and others, enabling them to remember and mourn the pre-Holocaust community. This annual pilgrimage, at the epicenter of Romaniote religious and social significance, generates a new Jewish collective based on Romaniote identity and history that includes the restoration of distinct musical practices.
Abstract: In several of Sjón’s works, there is a preoccupation with the Second World War, especially the issues and ideologies at stake in the run-up to the conflict and in its aftermath. This is evident, for instance, in his trilogy CoDex 1962 and in his most recent novel Korngult hár, grá augu (Red Milk). The issues addressed in these texts are, for instance, the fate of the Jewish immigrant in Iceland, and the peculiar circumstances of the rise of neo-Nazism in post-war Iceland. The memory of the war in Iceland is in many ways at odds with the narratives established elsewhere in Europe. The particular circumstances of the country—occupied by allied forces from 1940 onwards, with its concomitant incursion of modernity, urbanisation, and creation of wealth in what had historically been a very poor country—have greatly influenced how the war is memorialised, or more to the point rather, not memorialised in Iceland. This chapter looks at how Sjón’s novels engage with the ruling national narrative and go against that memory by telling an alternative history of the war, focussing on transnational and marginalised histories and cultures that historically have been ignored in Icelandic cultural memory.
Abstract: In 2015, Spain passed a law that concedes Spanish citizenship extraterritorially to persons recognized as Sephardic Jews and descended from the Sephardic Jews expelled from Spanish kingdoms in the fifteenth century. This chapter explores the implications of this institutional effort to repair a historical injustice. Given Spain’s membership in the European Union, this granting of national citizenship implies by extension European citizenship as well. In addition to proving Sephardic ancestry, applicants need to demonstrate cultural ties to Spain. This cultural connection is inflected by the official notion of Hispanicness and its legal implications. However, the 2015 law omitted the expulsions of Muslims and Moriscos (converts to Christianity from Islam), which took place during a similar historical period. By doing so, the 2015 law established a three-pronged way of redefining certain collective identities as deserving, or undeserving, of Spanish/EU citizenship: by requiring proof of Sephardic origins; by requiring a recognized cultural connection to Spain; and by denying Muslim ancestry. This chapter argues that this law fits into a rewriting of Spanish and European identity, coding Europe in racialized terms. Multiple scales of inclusion/exclusion are at work in this law, ultimately through a process of de- and re-racialization of citizenship.
Abstract: According to the Jewish Chronicle, on December 1, 2021, a group of Jewish bus passengers on their way to celebrate Chanukkah in London were attacked by a mob, spit upon, verbally abused, and subjected to Nazi salutes.1 Similarly, the monitoring group Tell MAMA reported that in the week after the Daily Telegraph published a column written by the then prime minister Boris Johnson, in which he compared Muslim women to “letterboxes” and “bank robbers,” Islamophobic incidents in the United Kingdom rose by 375 percent. In December 2019, a fourteen- year- old Muslim girl was violently attacked on her way home from school. The same month, a rabbi waiting in the Stamford Hill overground station was beaten by two men who shouted, “fucking Jew, dirty Jew” and “kill the Jews”; a month earlier a Jewish father and his two young sons were the targets of antisemitic abuse on the London Underground. While these forms of generalized Islamophobia and antisemitism have unfortunately become commonplace in the United Kingdom , there exists a largely unexamined form of antisemitic/Islamophobic violence perpetuated against LGBT Muslims and Jews— double minorities. In this chapter, I examine discourses present in the British print media that may contribute to a framing of LGBT Muslims and Jews in ways that can lead to the demonization of members of both communities. Robert Phillips My focus here is in the collective representation of double minorities by the British press. In choosing this focus, I should point out that those minorities who are the targets of harassment are targeted largely due to the saliency of their difference. As noted above, women wearing head or body coverings of any degree and men and boys wearing what are perceived to be “Muslim” or “Jewish” clothing or hairstyle (head coverings/payot) are often targeted. This includes Sikh men and boys wearing turbans, in that some may incorrectly identify them as Muslims. Because of outward appearance, many of the victims of these crimes may also be perceived to be observant in their faith and perhaps even threatening to national security and identity. This chapter is concerned with members of these communities who also identify as LGBT, positioning them as double minorities. As with members of other diasporic communities around the globe, LGBT Muslims and Jews have assumed unique types of identity forged through a combination of factors brought about by, among other things, processes of transnational migration. As both Muslims and Jews form some of the smallest ethnic communities in Britain, they are far outnumbered by more dominant Anglo groups and share a type of liminal subjectivity. Gay Muslim and Jewish men are both an ethnic and a sexual minority, further complicating this relationship. This dual-minority status has had a distinctive effect on how nonminority British view these individuals. For instance, Yip focuses on kin relations when examining the narratives of non-heterosexual British Muslims and suggests that within these communities , there is a perception of homosexuality as a “Western” disease that did not exist in the family’s community of origin. They also point out the fraught negotiations between parents and children, complicated further by sociocultural and religious factors, when it comes time to marry and the subsequent strategies employed by the children. In terms of how the nation views Muslims in Britain, Jaspal and Cinnirella position such subjects as a hybridized threat— British Muslims are positioned solidly as “other” while simultaneously being framed as a threat to the survival of the “in- group.”
Abstract: For some, the early hours of the morning are a time when few are awake, the city quiet, and the streets empty. In London’s East End, however, the dimly lit alleyways are teaming with late- night revelers. Historically characterized as largely working- class neighborhoods, districts like Bethnal Green, Shoreditch, and Whitechapel have undergone a rapid process of gentrification in recent years and are now synonymous with trendy clubs, pubs, and wine bars.1 The Bethnal Green Working Men’s Club, located just off Pollard Square, has been a cultural, political, and social hub of the East End since 1887. In recent years, the venue has become popular among students at the nearby Queen Mary, University of London, and a new wave of young urban professionals who are spatially segregated from the club regulars: Downstairs, the octogenarians still have their cards and gambling machine. But upstairs, the space is used for concerts, burlesque shows, voga (a dynamic fusion of yoga and vogueing), a pop- up Chinese restaurant and . . . “wild, unhinged good times.”2 Now and again, the walkways crossing Weavers Fields and the A1209 from the Bethnal Green Underground Station become a threshold to the United 148 Matthew Richardson Kingdom’s first queer Jewish club night. Organized around special and transitory dates in the Hebraic calendar, Buttmitzvah is a camp, erotic, playful, and satirical celebration of queer Jewish identities in postsecular Britain. The evening is centered around the backstory of the Rimmer family, pun intended, hosting their daughter Becky’s Bat Mitzvah. Facilitated by a troupe of dedicated actors, dancers, and drag kings and queens, the night is more than just a raunchy get-together. In this chapter, I explore the Bethnal Green Buttmitzvah as an ethnographic case study to argue that the evening functions as an aspirational and motivational platform from which partygoers construct, demarcate, and celebrate an affirming identity politics. To do so, I use Turnerian anthropology of experience as a key analytical , methodological, and theoretical heuristic tool to explore the affective , anti- structural, collectivizing, and subversive qualities of the Bethnal Green Buttmitzvah. First, I situate Buttmitzvah in the socio- cultural- geographic context of postsecular Bethnal Green and identify it as liminal space providing the ideal settings for the generation of communitas, a special type of ritualized space- time whereby all those present enjoy an intense sense of belonging and identification with each other. Next, I explore the ritualization needed to generate this social state of communitas by drawing on what I call the ritual complex, an intricate system involving myths, symbols, and rituals functioning as media through which selves and others are formed, mobilized, and resisted. Finally, I unpack the anti- structural qualities of communitas by characterizing Buttmitzvah as a liminoid phenomenon in a liminal space, providing those in attendance with a platform for subverting antisemitic, heterosexist, and postsecular social structures. As such, I argue that religious life is life together because it is only when people come together and generate the collective electricity of communitas that the aspirational and motivational forces for constructing, demarcating, and celebrating religious selves and others becomes possible. It is through ritual performance, in other words, that an imagined community is actualized in an intense emotional state of social belonging. I conclude this chapter by highlighting the benefits of engaging with Turnerian anthropology of experience when researching alongside minoritized religious communities in postsecular contexts. The findings in this chapter are grounded in fifteen months of narrative ethnographic research (April 2020 to July 2021) with eighteen queer Religious Life Is Life Together 149 Jews who were living, or had previously lived, in postsecular Britain (their selected profiles are included in the appendix for context).
