O pinion
THE VIEW FROM HERE
How Do You Learn to Hate?
BY JOSHUA RUNYAN
I’VE BEEN THINKING a
lot about babies lately. Those
who know me might say that it
makes sense, considering that
our household has had at least
one child in diapers since our
first was born in early 2003.

But late last week, star-
ing at my newest son — who
was born the week before — I
marveled at just how uncom-
plicated, helpless and unadul-
terated is existence in those
first few days of life.

My son had not yet experi-
enced the trauma of the bris.

(That happened on Feb. 17, and
he was given the name Simcha
Meir.) According to studies, he
could really only see well half
a foot away. It’s the perfect
distance to study the face of his
mother, as well as the check-
ered pattern of his bassinet.

A baby is, in many ways, the
embodiment of political phi-
losopher John Locke’s idea of a
tabula rasa. As he explores the
world every second that he’s
awake, he has not yet formed
such complex ideas as hate or
anger. He lacks the capacity to
make the kinds of value judg-
ments that depend so much
on nurture, and not so much
on nature. He comes into this
world devoid of those emotions
that have wrought so much
destruction. So if the newborn doesn’t
hate, from where does the
anti-Semite derive his venom,
or the racist her hatred? The
simple answer, of course, is
that ironically, it’s inculcated
over time by, in many cases,
those who love him.

When last week’s issue of
the Jewish Exponent was going
to press, I was asked by the per-
son filling in for me whether
I wanted to write an install-
ment of this column. I decided
against it, my reasons rooted
as much in the fact that I was
understandably busy with the
demands of paternity leave as
in the idea that I wanted to
wait until the skirmishes over
freshman Rep. Ilhan Omar’s
latest anti-Semitic tweet sim-
mered down. I knew then that
I wanted to write about the
affair, but I wanted to see just
what would come out of it.

For those who could use a
refresher, Omar, a Democrat
from Minnesota and one of
two Muslim women elected to
Congress last November (the
other was Palestinian-American
Rashida Tlaib of Michigan)
over Twitter accused House
GOP leader Kevin McCarthy
of California of being in the
pocket of the pro-Israel lobby.

McCarthy, who has threatened
to take action against Omar
and Tlaib for their positions
on Israel, was motivated solely
by the “Benjamins,” Omar
said. When asked to specify
what she meant by a journal-
ist from The Forward, Omar
replied: “AIPAC!”
The exchange represented
yet another invocation of the
old anti-Semitic trope that
Jewish money makes the world
go around, but Omar isn’t the
first member of Congress,
Democrat or Republican, to
traffic in such a stereotype in
the last couple of years. Omar,
who several years ago accused
Israel of “hypnotizing” the
world, was rightly condemned
and forced to apologize by a
united Democratic leadership.

But even in her mea culpa,
she deflected the charge of
anti-Semitism by explaining
her stance as more rooted in
attacking the big money that
lobbies Congress. (Left out of
her statement was a denounce-
ment of the anti-Israel money
that funded her campaigns.)
But while Democrats and
Republicans were united in
calling Omar to task, President
Donald Trump, no stranger
himself to the use of a good
tweet with anti-Semitic over-
tones to score political points
(i.e., demonizing George Soros),
upped the ante by demanding
that Omar resign. Predictably,
she hasn’t, nor have many
Democrats urged her to do so.

That pretty much brings us
up to date.

Left in the back and forth
has been any meaningful dia-
logue on how someone like
Omar, who by all accounts is a
talented politician deeply com-
mitted to her own community,
came to traffic in hate in the
first place.

Left unsaid has been any
type of reasonable explanation
for how hatred — whether of
Jews or of blacks or of immi-
grants or of the rich or of the
poor — seems to spread so
easily among those tasked with
representing all of their con-
stituents and who have pledged
to preserve, protect and defend
the Constitution.

We know that they were not
born haters. Hate, if they truly
hate as opposed to just employ-
ing it as a cynical device to
achieve electoral success, had
to have been developed, deliv-
ered and inculcated in them.

Were Omar to step down,
we’d still be left with the most
basic of problems: how to pre-
vent hate from finding a home
in an otherwise rational mind.

The only solution I can
think of at the moment, still
admittedly under the spell
of my newborn son but fully
cognizant that it’s pretty much
worthless as a political strat-
egy, is to love each other a little
bit more and to have that love
be the primary mover of what
we do and say. Let’s start with
our children. l
important to them, but some-
times there are events that
reveal that Judaism is import-
ant to them. Some of the people
still have a pintele yid — the
spark of a Jew. It just requires a
special event to expose it.

Many years ago, I took a
tour of a religious enclave in
Borough Park in Brooklyn,
N.Y., during Sukkot. Our bus
was delayed, so I had a chance
to walk through the small
streets of what I suspect resem-
bled a European shtetl. In the
background, I heard Yiddish
music. I followed the sound
until I found its source.

There was a Chasidic man
playing remarkably joyful
music on an organ. In the
building, men were dancing
around the table, while in the
bleachers young men locked
arms and swayed from side
to side. Eventually, the men
left the shul and danced in
the nearby street. I stood there
with chills in what was the
greatest pintele yid moment of
my life. Later, I was to learn
that this was referred to as a
Joshua Runyan is the editor-
in-chief of the Jewish Exponent. He
can be reached at jrunyan@jewish
exponent.com. The Spark of the Pintele Yid
BY SAUL AXELROD
FOR THE PURPOSES of this
article, I have divided Jewish
Americans into three groups.

The first group consists of
people who clearly identify
as Jews. Some attend syna-
gogue services regularly and
observe the mitzvot as much
as they can, while trying to
enjoy the benefits of American
life. Others in this group are
not religious but relish their
Jewishness by enjoying much
of its culture and traditions.

They will often ask, “But is it
16 FEBRUARY 21, 2019
good for the Jews?” Most peo-
ple in the first group are strong
supporters of Israel.

Skipping to the third group,
there are Jewish-Americans
who want nothing to do with
Judaism or Jewish lifestyle and
might be at the forefront of the
opposition to the state of Israel.

I have no interest in this group
and will not address it further.

But there is a second group
of Jewish Americans that I
would like to discuss.

They are likely to be well-ed-
ucated and to be reasonably
financially secure. They are a
part of the fabric of American
life. Their connection to
Judaism is mostly during life
milestones. They might attend
synagogue services during the
High Holidays, if at all. They
might have some regard for
Israel, but are typically not
vocal supporters, nor do they
attend pro-Israel rallies. They
might connect to Judaism
through its food, its humor
and by occasionally reading
a Jewish American novel or
attending movies dealing with
the Shoah. They might tell
you that Judaism is not very
JEWISH EXPONENT
See Axelrod, Page 18
JEWISHEXPONENT.COM