On the Roots of Antisemitism and the Uniqueness of the Jewish People

Why the Jews? It’s a question that has been asked throughout the ages, it’s the title of academic papers, and entire books. But for too many years, and for too many of us, it is a reality that we have been faced with and fearful of. While we might have thought that it was a problem of previous generations, today we are witnessing an incredible uptick in antisemitic events the world over, since the horrific attacks of Simchat Torah. We again face the question: ‘why us?’

Antisemitism has taken many forms over the ages. Most studies will say it began with the advent of Christianity, and their claim that Jews were responsible for the death of Jesus, as well as anger at the Jewish people’s unwillingness to forsake their own religion for Christianity. Later on in history, Jews were accused of attempting to take over the world, with such infamous articles such as the Protocols of the Elders of Zion. We have been accused of controlling banks and entire governments, and in its new guise, antisemitism often takes the form of anti-Zionism.

The Christian church may have been the first ‘modern’ propagator of antisemitism, but we know from the Torah that hatred and oppression have always haunted us. Examples in the Torah include our slavery in Egypt, the attack of Amalek, the attacks of various nations on our way to Eretz Yisrael, and many more.

As we try to make sense of what we are seeing today, we look to the Torah to examine its insights into why we have been and are so hated. What is it about the Jewish people that aggravates so many? 

Perhaps an explanation can be found in the words of the gentile Prophet Bilaam. Hired by the king of Moav to curse us, Bilaam instead blesses us time and time again. He states:

כִּי־מֵרֹאשׁ צֻרִים אֶרְאֶנּוּ וּמִגְּבָעוֹת אֲשׁוּרֶנּוּ הֶן־עָם לְבָדָד יִשְׁכֹּן וּבַגּוֹיִם לֹא יִתְחַשָּׁב׃

As I see them from the mountain tops, gaze on them from the heights, there is a people that dwells apart, not reckoned among the nations.¹

The Ramban explains²: “and there is no other nation with him that can be counted together with him, in the way that many [different] peoples and various nations gather together to become one camp — for these [people of Israel] all have one law and one ordinance, and are one nation, dwelling alone by the name of Jacob and Israel. And the meaning of Balaam’s words is that “just as I see him now dwelling alone, so will he forever dwell in safety, the fountain of Jacob alone, and he will always be at the head, for no nation will [ever] prevail over him [and cause him to perish], and he will never become assimilated to them [i.e., other nations].”

The Jewish people dwell alone, enjoy a level of safety from Hakadosh Baruch Hu, are joined together through the Torah and through Yaakov (our history). We are different, we are exclusive, we are protected. We share links to a history and mission, that no matter how hard we, or others, try to, we do not, cannot, depart from it, assimilate, or deny it. This is true long before Bilaam points it out- it’s there in the name of our first forefather, who was called Avraham HaIvri, (Ivri coming from the word ever – עבר- meaning from the other side) as he crossed to the other side, separating himself from idolaters to become the first person to recognize that there is only one God. 

The face of antisemitism has changed many times throughout the ages, but it stems from this religious separateness that Bilaam points out and our special mission as the Am Segula, the Chosen Nation. We may be scapegoats for the Christian church, financial troubles, persecution of innocents or the Black Plague, but really, we are called out for being different and for having a Godly mission.

Psychological studies have found that in order to hate, one needs to find something fundamentally off-putting about another. They need to feel that the person or group lacks morality, or severely clashes with their own values. The face of antisemitism has changed many times throughout the ages, but it stems from this religious separateness that Bilaam points out and our special mission as the Am Segula, the Chosen Nation. We may be scapegoats for the Christian church, financial troubles, persecution of innocents or the Black Plague, but really, we are called out for being different and for having a Godly mission. This is expressed by one of the greatest antisemites in Jewish History, when Haman tells Achashverosh, 

“There is a certain people, scattered and dispersed among the other peoples in all the provinces of your realm, whose laws are different from those of any other people and who do not obey the king’s laws; and it is not in Your Majesty’s interest to tolerate them.”³

But if we return to the Ramban, what of that protection that we are promised for being the Chosen People? Many Jews today feel afraid to even say they are Jewish, not to mention our history fraught with persecution on the individual, communal and national levels. If anything, we might feel that being Jewish offers the opposite of protection. 

Here, though it is hard to do, we need to take a step back and look at our history through a national and collective lens. The very fact of our existence today – after centuries of exile, dispersion, persecution, and sadly also assimilation – is a testament to that protection. Rav Kook beautifully explains this protection, as well as giving insight into our suffering, when he writes of us as ‘eternal nation’, am hanetzach. He shows how many nations have come and gone before us, including many who have tried to destroy us (the Babalonians and Romans, for example) while we, with the help of Hashem, have prevailed, even through the worst of times. He writes, “Our path in national life and its march toward the general human relationship is very long. Long are our lives and long are, therefore, our paths. We are great and our sins are great, and for this reason our troubles are great, and our consolations are also great..”⁴

The suffering of our people naturally causes us to cry out to Hashem with the question of “why” – why the pain and torture and grief, just for being an am segula? Is it, as Rav Kook says, our great sins that cause our great trouble? And where is our great consolation? How long and how hard is this road we must travel?

Hashem doesn’t provide us with answers to these questions of suffering. We find this stated in the Book of Iyov, when Iyov -who suffered loss upon loss and remained steadfast in his faith – asks Hashem why He is causing him all this suffering. Hashem answers “Where were ‎you ‎when I laid the foundations of the ‎earth? Declare if you have such understanding.”⁵ 

We live only in this world, while Hashem sees all worlds. His ways are beyond our reach. We can’t understand or know why. However, the Hebrew word for ‘why’ is La’mah (למה). We may not know why, but perhaps we can answer the question of le’ma (ל-מה)- to what. To what end must we direct our recent experiences of antisemitism? What can we do to mitigate our great sins and great troubles? How can we maintain our unique connection with Hashem, and remain an Am Levado Yishkon, rather than attempt to escape from it? 

If from the ashes of the Holocaust we could build a Jewish State, restart yeshivot and rebuild families, so too, from the challenges we face from those who hate us today, we can and must direct our destiny to positive, Jewish building, in Israel, and everywhere in the Jewish world, as individuals, and as a nation. We are in the midst of a long road, that we pray will soon reach the times of Moshiach. This is the time to show our faith in Hashem, to invoke that separateness and eternalness by increasing in Torah, mitzvot and other actions that strengthen us as a united nation, an eternal nation and as the Chosen Nation. 

¹ Bamidbar, 23:9

² Ramban, ibid.

³ Megillat Esther 3:8

⁴ Orot Ta’Hayyah 5

⁵ Iyov, 38:4