August 18th, 2024
I drove the old man home after we were done at the synagogue. He doesn’t live very far from the shul, so the trip didn’t take very long. Still, we had time enough for a heart-to-heart conversation about the meeting that had just ended. My friend was upset about a number of things, and he welcomed the opportunity to vent in my car.
The meeting had been held right after Shacharit, the morning service on Shabbat. There was a light lunch set up for everyone. Miryam Rosenzweig was the guest speaker at the gathering. She is the President and CEO of the Milwaukee Jewish Federation. Miryam spoke briefly about what she does at the federation. She discussed security measures that the federation is providing for members of the local Jewish community. She acknowledged that we are living in turbulent times that provoke strong emotional reactions. Miryam indicated that our emotions don’t need to dictate the decisions that we make.
After her initial comments, Miryam threw the meeting open for questions. There were numerous questions, and they tended to be pointed. Most of the queries involved the pro-Palestinian encampment that had been set up during the spring on the campus of the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee. The encampment was there for three weeks before a deal was cut between the demonstrators and the chancellor of the university. The site of the encampment was only two blocks away from the synagogue. It was impossible for members of our community to ignore, and for many of the people coming to the synagogue it reeked of antisemitism. There were strong emotional reactions to the signs and slogans exhibited at the encampment.
Let me note at this point that I am not Jewish. I go on a regular basis to the synagogue, and I am close friends with several of the members there. I am fully accepted as part of the community. However, I do not and cannot completely understand the effects of antisemitism on people who are Jewish. I know that the protesters at the encampment adamantly denied being antisemitic. They told me so when I visited their site. Even so, it seems to me that the people who can best determine whether somebody is the victim of prejudice are the ones who are on the receiving end of the bigotry. Several people at the meeting made it clear that they were experiencing antisemitism. I accept their view on the matter.
A question that came up was why the federation has not encouraged counterdemonstrations at the encampment. This is pertinent because the pro-Palestinian protests will resume when classes start in the fall, and the activists plan on being more vocal and more disruptive. They have to up the ante. The activists need to be more provocative in order to remain newsworthy. Miryam did not explain in full the reasons for not having counterprotests, but she indicated that they were not the best possible answer. A couple people from the synagogue wanted the federation to provide a strong response to the words and actions of the Palestinian supporters. Miryam replied that the federation is responding, but not in direct confrontation with the protesters on campus.
The old man in my car was not happy about that answer. He is a refugee from the Soviet Union, and he spent years experiencing old school antisemitism back in the Old Country. He told me,
“We Jews can’t be victims! We can’t let this happen here in this country! We have to show them a fist!”
I thought about that. It’s not necessarily a smart move. A show of strength can cut both ways. As Miryam said, we can’t let raw emotion determine our actions.
I have been involved with a number of demonstrations over the years, and they all have an element of chaos. There is always the potential for things to get out of hand in a big hurry. A successful demonstration requires that the participants be trained and that folks stay on message, even when under stress. I helped to manage a May Day march several years ago. I was a marshal, and I just needed to lead the crowd down the street. The march went from an assembly point to a rally site several miles away. Keeping people on the route was like herding cats. I found the job to be exhausting.
Now, imagine a protest where there is active opposition. During that same march, there were counter protesters at the rally point. There weren’t many of them, but they were there. It was distinctly uncomfortable to stare across a street and see people who probably hated me. It was hard to face these individuals and stay calm, especially if they saw fit to hurl abuse in my direction. Police on horseback were between the two groups, but that was small comfort. I guess they kept the peace. I should be grateful for that.
The purpose of a demonstration is to get someone’s attention. It doesn’t matter if the eye that sees the protest is from the mainstream media or just a curious YouTuber. A protest is a failure if it goes unnoticed. I was told once that any publicity is good publicity. I don’t believe that. A group can get noticed for all the wrong reasons. A shouting match or, worse yet, an act of violence will go viral almost instantly. When that happens, the message is lost. BLM probably had a valid message, but all I can remember from those protests are videos of burning cars.
A counterdemonstration is guaranteed to be a confrontation with passionate participants on both sides of the street. Emotions run high, and staying unperturbed is difficult. That’s where discipline, experience, and solidarity come into play. And you don’t want any stray actors showing up whose fondest dream is to bust a couple windows and set fire to a Starbucks. Yet, those are exactly the individuals who are drawn to these events, like moths to a flame. The fact is that a counterprotest is a risky proposition, even when all the people involved have their heads on straight. It doesn’t take much for everything to go south.
So, Miryam is right. A counterdemonstration might make people feel good about themselves (“We showed them!”), but it really doesn’t make the situation any better. It can potentially make it all a lot worse.
Frank is Emptiness 