How Bad Is It?

In Berlin, a leading politician from the opposition Free Democratic Party (FDP) had to apologize for remarks that German Jewish leader Paul Spiegel called the “worst insult” against German Jews since World War II. In Amsterdam, Gretta Duisenberg, the wife of European Central Bank President Wim Duisenberg, blamed “rich American Jews” for Palestinian suffering. Across France, dozens of Jewish cemeteries and synagogues have been firebombed and desecrated. And in Moscow, a Russian motorist took it upon herself to remove an anti-Semitic placard along one of the city’s busiest highways ? only to have the booby-trapped sign blow up in her face. Has the old scourge of anti-Semitism returned with new and terrifying force to Europe?

Many people seem to think so, especially in the United States. A Boston newspaper blared “Kristallnacht Returns,” and declared, “not since the Third Reich has there been anything like it.” In response to anxious inquiries, the Simon Wiesenthal Center in Los Angeles issued an advisory warning Jews “to exercise extreme caution while traveling [to France and Belgium].” The L.A. branch of the American Jewish Congress threatened to boycott France until the country is once more “safe for Jews.” There have been hearings in Washington, where one congressman said the “escalation of brutality is particularly alarming in light of Europe’s troubling past.”

While anti-Semitism is an old and shameful part of Europe’s history, there may be less to the inflammatory rhetoric than meets the eye. Yes, there has been a worrying upturn in the number of anti-Semitic attacks in France. In April alone, 400 acts of violence took place against Jews, compared to 200 for all of 2001. “Jews and Jewish interests are being attacked because they are Jewish. That much is clear,” says a French justice official. “But once you face that terrible fact, you have to start asking yourself: Why them? Why now? What’s changed? My view is that these attacks arise from other kinds of anger and frustration.”

One source of that anger and frustration can be found in the country’s impoverished and crime-ridden banlieues, where most of France’s roughly 5 million Muslims live and most of the anti-Semitic incidents occurred. But rather than some fresh outburst of virulent anti-Semitism, these acts ? which have been widely condemned ? are part of a much broader trend of increasing lawlessness and incivility across the whole of French society. These mostly first-generation French citizens find themselves unemployed and shipwrecked between the Arab culture of their parents and a French society that does not accept them. Violence ? anti-Semitic and otherwise ? is their way of lashing out.

The attacks are also a perverse response to the tragic cycle of violence in the Middle East. “It would be over-simplistic to say all recent anti-Semitic attacks in France have been avenging Palestinians,” the justice official says. “But there is a real element of existing aggressiveness and rebellion deciding to attack Israel by attacking French Jews.”

Sympathy for Palestinians in no way justifies violence, but it does suggest that there is something other than blind hatred of Jews at work. In France “there is undoubtedly a hard-core anti-Semitism,” says Emmanuel Weintraub, chairman of the French section of the World Jewish Congress and a member of the board of CRIF, the umbrella organization for French Jewish groups. “But that anti-Semitism is a rather quiet and drowsy thing. It might awake one day, but it hasn’t awakened now.”

Instead, what appears to be happening in many European countries ? as evidenced by the appeal of far-right leaders like France’s Jean-Marie Le Pen and the assassinated Dutch politician Pim Fortuyn ? is a more generalized backlash against “foreigners” of all kinds and the entrenched political establishment. According to a new European Union report, for example, anti-Muslim attacks have also soared throughout much of the region since Sept. 11. And even the electoral success of Le Pen ? who once called the Holocaust “a detail of history” ? isn’t only a symptom of anti-Semitism, but a reflection of French unease with its immigrant underclass. “Even some Jews voted for Le Pen,” says Weintraub. “Why? Because they said, ‘If [Le Pen] is against the Arabs, the enemies of our enemies are our friends.'”

For historical reasons, anti-Semitism is an especially sensitive issue in Germany. In May, Jamal Karsli ? a Syrian-born legislator who has repeatedly accused the Israeli army of employing “Nazi tactics” in its campaign against the Palestinians and complained of a “Zionist lobby” that equates all criticism of Israel with anti-Semitism ? was forced out of the Green Party. He was, however, welcomed into a state branch of the FDP by its local head and deputy national leader J�rgen M�llemann.

Chairman of a German-Arab friendship group and a longtime critic of Israeli Prime Minister Ariel Sharon, M�llemann was lambasted ? most stridently by Michel Friedman, vice president of the Central Council of Jews in Germany ? for accepting Karsli into the party. In response, he said, “The intolerant, spiteful handling by Mr. Friedman of any critic of Sharon unfortunately is liable to awaken anti-Semitic resentments.” The comment caused an uproar because of its explosive echoes of the old slur that Jews bring misfortune on themselves. Last week Karsli was forced out of the FDP and M�llemann apologized for any offense to Jews.

The episode was regarded by some commentators as a gambit to win the votes of Germany’s anti-Semitic fringe. Friedman himself said that “it is unbearable that a party from the middle of the political spectrum uses anti-Semitism in an election campaign.” The FDP is aiming to re-enter government as a coalition partner after September’s election, but this episode hasn’t helped. “If M�llemann’s exploitation of right-wing populism is not corrected,” says Hajo Funke, a political scientist at Berlin’s Free University, “we’ll have a party that works with anti-Semitic clich�s.”

Despite the storm around M�llemann’s remarks, experts do not believe that anti-Semitism as such is on the rise. “That anti-Semitism is growing is a complaint I’ve been hearing for the past 15 years,” says Wolfgang Benz, director of the Center of Anti-Semitic Research at Berlin’s Technical University. Though he recognizes the seriousness of these incidents, and agrees that a taboo against criticizing Israel has been breached, Benz doesn’t see a trend of growing anti-Semitism in Germany: “Comparisons with Kristallnacht are stupid and disgusting.”

Germany has long been one of Israel’s staunchest allies, but other European governments have been more sympathetic to the Palestinian cause. Jews in these countries are especially concerned by the perceived rise in anti-Semitism. To demonstrate her support for Palestinians, Gretta Duisenberg hung a Palestinian flag from the balcony of her home in Amsterdam’s upscale Rivierenbuurt area. After the flag had been up for several weeks, Duisenberg received at least one death threat. Then the Dutch Jewish Federation charged her with “inciting hatred and anti-Semitism.”

A neighbor, Ron van der Wieken, who is Jewish and has children who live in Israel, wrote a letter asking the Duisenbergs to remove the flag. “We didn’t really mind at first,” he says, “but when it became a long-term project we objected. Our response was the ‘rich Jews’ comment.” The flag was taken down two weeks ago, before Gretta Duisenberg left for the family’s holiday home in France.

The flap has caused huge controversy in the Netherlands, still reeling from the shocking success of Pim Fortuyn’s anti-immigration message and his subsequent murder. Herman Loonstein, head of the Dutch Jewish Federation, demanded that as “one of the most powerful men in Europe” Wim Duisenberg “should distance himself from the comments of his wife.” He also said that, “It’s even worse that the Palestinian flag should be displayed in a neighborhood from which so many Jews disappeared into the camps.” Others express qualified support for Duisenberg. “She has the right to her opinions,” concedes David Serphos, director of Amsterdam’s Jewish Community. “But what is tactless and unfair is the implication that her husband supports her views.”

These controversies show how difficult it still is for Europeans to separate legitimate political debate from perceived racist comment when it comes to anti-Semitism. The attacks and the electoral success of the likes of Le Pen are alarming and should be condemned. But Europe’s effort to openly confront and discuss anti-Semitism is a healthy sign that the Continent is not headed for a repeat of 1938.