Rabbi Breit's Blog

Today, along with dozens of other B'nai Torah members, I watched the Georgia State Senate pass HB30, a bill to define antisemitism for the purposes of assessing antisemitic intent behind perpetrated crimes -- ie assault or harassment -- that would qualify them as hate crimes.

It was an incredible moment of Jewish unity, as rabbis and congregations and supporters of the Jewish people across Georgia gathered in the Capitol. It was a reminder that we are not alone. It was a reminder that antisemitism cannot be explained away as politics, resistance, or truth-telling. We will never again mistakenly believe that we deserve the crimes committed against us.

Critics of the bill argued that the definition of antisemitism used, which covers hatred of Jewish peoplehood such as crass caricatures of the people and nation of Israel, would chill free speech or punish people who disagree with Israeli state policies. Others argued that it is unfair to pass a bill that helps defend Jews against antisemitism when other bigotries are not as thoroughly contested, with a couple State Senators claiming that defining what is antisemitic intent should be left up to each case’s prosecutor. One claimed that offering a “road map” to a court to understand how antisemitism manifests in our modern world would be unfair to other communities who don’t have their own road map yet written.

These objections ring hollow. There is no punishment for criticizing the state of Israel. But, if you equate the existence of Israel to the Nazi takeover of Europe and then go beat up a Jewish person, this act is now much more easily tried as a hate crime. And if there is any lack of clarity what Islamophobic, misogynist, racist, etc. intent looks like in a hate crime, then there is space to pass bills addressing those legislative gaps.

There are some Jewish people who are unhappy with this bill. As a people we prize debate and disagreement and need not all agree. There will always be Jewish people who are not happy with the path other Jewish people are taking. We see this famously demonstrated in this week’s parsha, B'shalach, with some Jews’ bitter discontent over leaving Egypt. When they camp by the sea and turn and see Pharaoh pursuing them with chariots they are terrified and they cry, “Why did we leave?!! … It would have better for us to worship Mitzrayim than die in the wilderness!”

That the people argue with Moses against their liberation is not a surprise. They’ll keep doing it for all of Exodus. What we need to understand is the meaning of what Moses replies. He says, “Don’t be afraid … you have seen Mitzrayim this day; you will never see them again any more ever” (Exodus 14:13).

What does this mean? You'll never see an Egyptian person again? Some say it means Jews can never go back to Egypt. Some say it means that every Egyptian they see who rode into battle against them, Pharaoh’s army, will be killed. But still others ask this: what are the children of Israel afraid of in the first place? There are 600,000 of them, some armed, and they’re protected by God. Some rabbis say they were afraid because they still felt subservient to the Egyptians. They saw themselves as rogue slaves and these people of Mitzrayim as their masters, no matter how powerful, free, and capable they had in fact become.

Moses, then, was telling the people: you will never again see yourself this way. You will never see yourself as deserving your enslavement. You will never look on might and violence in the world and say, it’s safer to serve them than to anger them.

And so we learn this: we may never all agree on which direction to march through the desert. But we may never again see ourselves as deserving hatred, abuse, and persecution. Shabbat shalom.