Kanye West

Jon Stewart Buries the Lede

On Stephen Colbert, he deftly changes the subject

There’s been a lot of public, celebrity-endorsed antisemitism in the past few weeks, which is painful as hell. And lest you think it’s being overblown by the Jewish establishment, trust me: the Jewish college students I work with are talking about it and they’re feeling it.

I don’t feel compelled to publicly respond to every case: Kanye, then Kyrie Irving, then Dave Chappelle on Saturday Night Live. Especially because everyone else is chiming in, I don’t feel like I have much to add to the conversation.

The first problem isn’t how we respond to antisemitism. It’s antisemitism itself.

But I was watching an extended interview with Jon Stewart on Stephen Colbert last week, and that was a tipping point for me. Perhaps because of the fact that I’ve long admired Jon Stewart, and I have a special affection for his sort of political comedy with a creamy moral center. And because my personal politics often line up with his.

But that’s why I was so troubled by his appearance on The Late Show. I might have expected a vigorous defense from a prominent Jewish celebrity. Instead, he deftly changed the subject.

(He got off a few good lines; he always does. “I wasn’t on the [secret conspiratorial] committee that lost Kanye the Adidas deal. I’m on the committee that does oil prices and bagel flavors.” “Kyrie Irving, they suspended him from playing basketball. If you want to punish him—send him to the Knicks.”)

Stewart spent most of his time decrying the responses to antisemitism; the cancellations and so on. He quotes Dave Chappelle’s monologue, “It shouldn’t be this hard to talk about.” As if the heart of this problem was about free speech or the right to say bigoted things.

Jon Stewart sounds smart and compassionate when he speaks. He quotes Kanye, saying, “Hurt people hurt people,” and that instead of covering up hate you need more conversation. He implores us to consider the Black perspective, with its history of oppression, and suggests that each of these things—Kanye, Kyrie, Chappelle—are howls of pain from people who have been historically oppressed.

I agree with every syllable. So what’s the problem?

The problem is burying the lede. The first problem isn’t how we respond to antisemitism. It’s antisemitism itself.

I agree with everything Stewart said about free speech, the imperative of actually listening to oppressed communities, the ugly futility of cancel culture, etc. Those are important and thoughtful topics for discussion.  But the point is that all those things are secondary to the actual story here: Extremely famous people said extremely bigoted things, with the very real possibility of those things leading to violence against an already shaken community. And if he had the integrity to name that pain, he might have had a little more moral authority to make these other points.

The story of Dave Chappelle’s rant on Saturday Night Live isn’t “Will he get cancelled now for saying edgy things?” The real story is: His nasty words exacerbate the pain in a community already on edge.

Do we have to do this again? Does Jon Stewart, or Dave Chappelle, have any sense of the context of the surging wave of antisemitism? Does he realize that Chappelle’s monologue occurred two weeks after synagogues throughout New Jersey were on lockdown because of a “credible threat” of violence against them? Do we have to mention the shorthand of one-word names that we’ve all come to know in the past few years: Pittsburgh, Poway, Monsey, Charlottesville…?

Once again, a prominent progressive thinker has shown that every community’s pain is legitimate—except for the Jewish community’s. Jon Stewart might spend this Thanksgiving reading English comedian David Baddiel’s shocking book Jews Don’t Count, to see firsthand how antisemitism is the progressive community’s dirty secret.

But this is a recurring pattern. A few weeks ago, Brown University’s Hillel building received a handwritten threat of violence. Thank G-d, it didn’t pan out, and after a day or so, a perpetrator was caught (not from the Brown community) and the students’ safety was assured.

Yet these were the first two sentences of the letter that the Jewish community received from the university’s Vice President:

“Our country continues to experience deeply troubling and disturbing levels of division, intolerance, and discrimination.

On Sunday afternoon, staff at Brown RISD Hillel discovered an antisemitic note in a reception area, and this follows reports in recent weeks of other incidents against Jewish, Black, Asian, LGTBQ+ and other underrepresented individuals on campus and in the surrounding community…”

She just “All Lives Matter”ed us!

If we learned anything from Black Lives Matter, it’s this: each community’s pain is uniquely their own. To shovel all forms of discrimination into the same bin is a form of erasure—and it’s its own kind of racism.

And that’s the progressive Achilles heel of Jon Stewart’s interview as well.

Jon Stewart pretty much invented late night comedy that could be topical, progressive, and still funny as hell. If only his Jewishness was a bit more self-aware and informed, I’d be laughing with him this week.

This Week In Antisemitism: אף על פי כן / In Spite of It All

As I do periodically, I thought I might share with you my weekly email to my students at Babson College here in MA. Several of them privately shared their fears with me this week, as once again antisemitism made headlines. This time, it surfaced via the unapologetic voices of two the most famous people in the worldwith two of the largest online followings in the world. If you read through to the end, please note my postscript that I’m adding for this blog. —Neal

Unfortunately, it was a rough week in the news for Jewish Americans. Because this week, anti-Jewish hatred reared its ugly, snarling head from two directions. 

The most famous entertainer in the world spewed an irrational, hate-filled tirade on a popular podcast and (of course) on Twitter, where he swore to go, um, “Deathcon 3” on “the Jews.” Simultaneously, the former President stoked antisemitism again when he claimed American Jews weren’t “grateful enough” for his past support of Israel and they should “get their act together” “before it’s too late.”  

The fact that both of these statements sound like threats of violence is bad enough for a community on edge. And the fact that both of these individuals have massive numbers of followers, some of whom belong to antisemitic blocs who might take these comments as dog whistles, is even worse.  

After all, the Jewish community has experienced a terrifying rise antisemitic assaults in the past few years—unprecedented in our lifetimes—to know that violent language unchecked inevitably leads to violent actions. Do we have to go over, once again, the list of the Jews who have been killed, the synagogues that have been attacked, and the Jewish institutions that have been vandalized?  

But what feels so awful this week is that the hatred has been so coarse and… old. Here's what I mean. 

Every minority group has a history of being victimized by bigots. And for each group, there is the coarsest, grossest sorts of stereotypes with which they’ve been slandered. Think about it for a minute, and you’ll know what I mean. 

So, the Jew-hatred that we’ve seen this week struck all the most ancient and archaic tropes. Kanye’s hate included: the Jews run Hollywood and the media; insidious Jewish power blocs will shut down anyone they disagree with; Jews are rich and their moneyed interests manipulate the world. These are the most disgusting and, well, clichéd forms of antisemitism, and it’s so sad that there is still a large and eager audience for them. 

What Kanye missed the former President picked up on. That’s the slander of “dual loyalty:” You must not be “real Americans,” because your secret loyalty lies elsewhere—namely, the State of Israel. Haven’t we all had enough of this man’s pathetic charges that if you’re not with him, you’re anti-America?  

Money. The media. The banks. Secret power. Dual loyalty. There’s nothing new here; it’s all the classic forms of anti-Jewish hate. And it was all thrown in our faces this week very publicly by very famous and influential people. 

So where do we go from here? Where do we find hope?  

As for me, I find hope in you. In the Jewish community, there is hope to be found whenever someone asserts their Jewish identity, embraces their heritage, and refuses to be afraid. The Torah emphasizes joy and love, and I’m determined not to let haters steal those things from us.

And outside the Jewish community, there is hope to be found whenever people stand united with each other against hate and say: we refuse to let others’ lies and slanders turn us against each other. Love and decency win out in the long run, even if they seem to get trounced in the short run.  

Earlier this week, an interfaith and multicultural group of students, faculty, and staff gathered beneath the Babson Globe to stand in solidarity and prayer, simply to bear witness to the pain and suffering in the world. It was very powerful, and I left the Peace Circle filled with hope and energy. 

I had the privilege of closing that gathering, and I shared the following words from the 19th century mystical master Rebbe Nachman of Bratzlav. (Bratzlav, by the way, is in besieged Ukraine.) These, too, are words of hope: 

וְדַע שֶׁהָאָדָם צָרִיךְ לַעֲבֹר עַל גֶּשֶׁר צַר מְאֹד מְאֹד
וְהַכְּלָל וְהָעִקָּר – שֶׁלֹּא יִתְפַּחֵד כְּלָל 

Know this: That each person must cross a very—very!—narrow bridge.
And the rule, the fundamental thing, is:  Not to be afraid. 

Shabbat Shalom, 

Neal 

That’s what I wrote to my students. Here, I’ll add that two other things happened to me this past week that also gave me hope, along the lines of the themes that I included in my final paragraphs above:

In the spirit of interfaith sharing, I felt lucky to be part of a discussion panel that met at First Parish Church in Weston, MA earlier this week. Each panelist - representing Jewish, Muslim, Christian, and Baha’i faiths - spoke on the theme of “Hope in Our Fractured World.” There were about 100 people in attendance. And it was quite lovely; a gathering of people of good faith, seeking a bit of common ground, understanding, and perspective from one another.

Second, there was Simchat Torah. And it occurs to me that in recent years, Simchat Torah could be subtitled, אף על פי כן / “In spite of it all…”. In other words, we know that there’s a lot of pain in the world, as institutions and protections and beliefs we took for granted sway precariously. And in spite of it all: This week, we took the Torah in our arms and danced and sang. At least, that’s what we did at the Walnut Street Minyan in Newton, MA. And it was beautiful and joyous, and filled with hope, as we bid the holiday season farewell, and prepared to face the winter that is coming…