Tag: Jewish

This week in Antisemitism: bringing some of the ideas together in lists

personby Gillian Polack
schedulePosted on

This last post is very long. It’s also a bit less clear than the earlier ones. I was going to explain the current meanings of Zionism, updating the previous post. Interestingly, so many people have their own views of the definition and want to correct even the groups made from nearly two hundred opinions. Instead of giving you cute names attached to views of the word ‘Zionism’ (I so wanted to include Mountains of Madness Zionism) I’ll begin with a quick revision that allows anyone to slot new thoughts into the three groups.

Anything that prioritises Jewish definitions of a Jewish concept is going to describe Zionism as related to the state of Israel. Alas, this includes those arguing that it should not exist. Why the ‘alas’ – because all arguments about its non-existence either fail to take into account those who want all Jews dead, or actually celebrate all Jews dying. If they would solve antisemitism and violence against Jews before inventing a county where Jews cannot live, I would have more sympathy with them. If they lived in 1938, they would be helping the building of death camps either literally or socially. When I tried to talk with some of these people, they fell into two groups. One believes that Jews have not really been murdered, ever. The other believes that we should all be murdered and that Israel is a good start. Accepting that Zionism refers to Israel existing is not quite the same as Zionism referring to Israel as a Jewish state that should exist. Many of those who support Israel are now explaining that second part (that it has a right to exist, that Jews need it, that there are ancient links to the land) to distinguish themselves from those who try to have their cake and eat it to, by saying that yes, Israel exists, but it should not.

This is actually not as muddy as I made it sound. If all Jews are to be killed, then Israel doesn’t exist. Using ‘Zionism’ in this way is a false claim. I now try to work out from other things a person says if they give Jews equal rights to other people. That helps explain whether their acceptance of Israel as a country is temporary or false.

In some cases, the thoughts can be attached to groups two and three together. Hate seeps into everything once its become part of general conversation. I can’t explain this as well as I should, because every single person I’ve found who uses the second group of definitions of Zionism with the hate and mirroring from the third… blocks me quite quickly. I’ve looked around, and I’m not the only one blocked and the blocking is not restricted to Jews. Iranian Diaspora activists are also blocked, as are general supporters of Jews and Iranians. Those who combine the second and third group of definitions are creating their own echo chamber. This worries me.

As I said last post, there are an increasing number of personal definitions of Zionism. I’m not even going to try to make a complete list. They still mostly fall into the categories I established last post, so the best thing to do is to categorise them and find out what the person explaining Zionism thinks and where they fit politically and on the hate spectrum. Otherwise we argue about minutiae and the problem of hate ferments all by itself in the background. Also, identifying the groups of definitions helps anyone who is subject to the hate to identify it quickly and address it in the best way for them. For many, this means hiding from the bigots, because there is so much violence attached to certain parts of both the second and third groups of definitions. In others, it can be talking things through and finding common ground. How to deal with local hate would be a whole new post, though. I’ve done it all my life (including advising those in politics, the public sector, and in community organisations deal) and am willing to talk about these things, but not here and not today.

So what am I doing today?

I am about to give simple explanations with simple examples of some very complex stuff. This is only a blog post, after all. I could write a book on each of these, and then another explaining how it all holds together and the history behind it. I am not going to write those books. The book still seeking a home (the history one) shows how we are given narratives that support all the things I’m about to talk about. This post, by comparison, is me dipping my big toe in the water, just to show you that there is water. I’ve done it in form of a series of points, because I am running out of time. Other weeks I’ve had hours to spare, this week I have editing and deadlines and possibly will find time to get dressed later today. Possibly.

The series of points

1. Zionism and its related words rely on a fabric of understanding. Not all Zionists are Jewish, but all Zionism is linked to Judaism. It’s one of the words and sets of ideas that connect Jews to the non-Jewish world.

2. We learn about what the world thinks about us from the way groups or individuals use words related to Judaism. I was told just yesterday that I had tikkun olam entirely wrong… and also two thousand years of historical Judaism. This was from the third person in two days who knew a little, but not enough to know what they did not know. Even with the best intentions, telling someone that they don’t know who they are and that everything they know since childhood is wrong… is not kind. There is a lot more to the ‘splaining and erasing Jewish knowledge of ourselves than the unkindness it manifests.

First, as women discover when we are mansplained, that kind of explanation indicates, to the person doing the ‘splaining, that Jews (or women) are secondary. Less important people. Children who have to be told things because we cannot think for ourselves.

With Zionism, this produces a really interesting quandary. As I said earlier (in different words) some people who use the standard definition of Zionism (Israel’s existence) are anti-Zionist for the same reason they ‘splain. In their minds, Jews are not capable of running our own lives or even knowing our own religion and culture. If we lack the capacity of adults, how could there possibly be a Jewish country?

This is an old form of antisemitism, where Jews are considered to be better off subservient. I know its European origins, but the dhimmi system also implies religious immaturity and gives secondary status to Jews. It’s for our own good that we are told things and that there should be no Israel. We’re not mature enough yet. Or are just made to be ruled by others, especially others like the person ‘splaining.

3. Another link is made by those who have not directly experienced antisemitism. In their eyes, others must be exaggerating for attention. This is where the accusations of playing the victim card and pearl clutching enter. The sense that this can’t be right (too dramatic, or “I don’t see these things”) proves the antisemitic trope of Jews being liars. Perceiving Jewish hurt as false cements antisemitism in many peoples’ minds. The best equivalent I can give is the attitude some men have to child-bearing as painless and natural. Lived experience is not considered relevant in either case.

4. ‘Zionism,’ ‘Judaism’ and a bunch of connected terms are also triggers for people to erase others from their lives. Many of us have lost whole social circles in the past two years, simply because of non-existent Jew cooties. I say “I’m Jewish” and some friends say, “You could not tell anyone” and others disown me for being public about it. I’m a “bad Jew” for making those words mean the wrong thing.

5. This leads to Schrödinger’s Jew, where it’s fine to be Jewish or have Jewish ancestors as long as nothing is visible publicly and there is plausible deniability. Jews can march with other pro-Pals as long as no magen davids are worn and they eat bacon and don’t talk about their Jewishness. This relates to the silencing of most Jewish voices, especially those from the Jewish left. Certain Australian writers’ festivals are really good examples of this.

6. Many bigots say, “We’re hurting too.” Other people have suffered awful things. These people of course need our support and help. That’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about the deliberate destabilising of discussion about Jews, Israel, Zionism by changing the subject. This can be gaslighting.

7. More everyday, is when people refuse to learn about Jewish stories or culture and then fill the artificial vacuum with stereotypes and an understanding of Judaism drawn from Jew haters. This is related to whether Secular Judaism/ Jewishness is seen as an ethnicity or simply a name tag. There are secular Jews, but this is not them.

8. Some people use a modified set of terms to indicate some rather big things: Jews as a problem, the West as a problem, settler colonialism as a problem, for instance. The style of terms is “Zionist entity” instead of “Israel” or “So-called Australia” instead of  “Australia.” Sometimes this comes from far-left people and shows hints of Marxism. Sometimes it comes from those who listen to the spokespeople for organisations link to the Muslim Brotherhood. I see this as indicating that some of the far left may be linked to the Muslim Brotherhood. This may be linked to the groups and collectives where there’s not a lot of shared understanding of Judaism, but much support for Hamas. It also can be linked to using language from DEI, Critical Race Theory, and is often shared by BDS folk in my vicinity.

9. Dehumanisation of Jews. An oldie but just as nasty as it ever was. Watch for how haters talk to Jews and about Jews – check that we’re still human in their eyes. An example from X:  Leon Knight @KnightLeon34974 wrote “I don’t want my kids to suffer any kind of religious indoctrination in their education, but especially not from a satanic death cult like Zionism.”

10. Performative stuff, using slogans and banners and marches tends to (because of its nature), play favourites. One of the worst things about this is that the kindness and support for underdog some shouters claim (I suspect this might include Grace Tame in Australia) is an image and not real. I always look for more than the slogans to find out how people reach those slogans. Almost always, in the case of matters relating to Judaism and Israel, they reflect many of the things I’ve just listed.

11. Statements that look obvious, but that are part of a silencing. “Gazan voices are being hidden” is one of the more interesting statements, because it’s partly true. Very few non-Hamas and non terrorist supporter voices from within Gaza are heard – but those voices are not the ones protested about. Randa Abdel-Fattah and Omar Sakr claiming that they themselves are silenced in Australia and that Jews have loud voices are a more useful example.

All of these elements can lead to a lack of context and destroyed narrative. More and more people think they know about a subject and they really, really don’t. This makes hate much worse. There are also rhetorical devices that make hate worse by reinforcing certain thoughts or by spreading them. I don’t have time or energy to give you a complete list and big explanations of these devices. I’ll give another list, I think, just so that some of them are more visible.

When people tell hate stories, these are some of the techniques they use

1. Repeat and repeat and repeat an idea or a word. When you say it often enough, then most of us stop arguing with it. This is why marches include slogans and accusations and chants. It’s also why so many interviews of those marching are hilarious. When a marcher only knows the repetitions, they find it difficult to answer questions about why they march.

Query constant repetition and find out what story it’s telling.

In the case of ‘globalise the intifada’ and ‘from the river to the sea’ those who shout it also say that the meanings are benign. There are two sensible approaches to the claim of benign meaning. The first is to look into historical uses of the terms eg if people were killed when other claims of intifada were made then the use is violent and the claim to benign meaning is false, for instance.

The second is to find out if those who insist on using the terms have used others, with less fraught ancestral use. An Australian example is whether anyone shouting ‘globalise the intifada’ has thought about the relationship of the Bondi shooting or of the death of Malki Roth and whether they have changed their language to not hurt the families of those killed. If they haven’t used other terms that don’t hurt people… then those terms are not benign and they’re using the lie of them being benign to spread hate. The best answers to questions about repeated words and what the users intend, then, is in the use of the words, both historically and currently, and also in whether the users are willing to change things so as not to hurt anyone.

2. I know my favourite tool from Medieval French epic legends. Roland was always ‘the brave’ and Olivier was always ‘the wise.’ If you put a single adjective in front of a noun incessantly for a time, then eventually all the people who see it will include that adjective as part of their understanding of the noun. Trump does this all the time. So do antisemites. “Evil Jews”, “genocidal Israel”: no proof, no argument, just the identification of the word with the thought so that we can’t help thinking about a thing in those terms.

This example of “vile Talmud” from 22 February gives exceptionally good context for why ‘vile’ is a problem. “Ashkenazis are such annoying war mongers who follow the vile Talmud that condones the rape of 3 year old non-jewish children. The problem is that even if you murder another 1 million people you will not feel ‘safe’ as you know your time is linked to US support and you are thieves” 3:37 PM · Feb 22, 2026

3. Claims without evidence are true of many bigots in history – saying something does not make it true, and running away when people ask for evidence is one of the ways of discovering there is no evidence. The most common one in my timeline right now is people talking about Israel’s live-streamed genocide. Not a single person I’ve asked (or others have asked) has proivided any link to the live-streaming. Some duck and run, while others say “It’s so obvious, find it yourself.”

4. This links back to my earlier list because it’s to do with how we see words. Some people cannot or will not explain the words they’re using and then say “You know you know this” are adding to hate by creating fuzzy (and negative) definitions. When I ask and explain that I’m looking into definitions and word use, I often get some really interesting examples of Jew hate. This is something that looks innocuous, but may not be.

I don’t assume that lack of knowledge = hate. I find out if the person can and will explain without falling into hatespeech before I make any decisions on this. In other words, there are people who genuinely don’t know standard definitions and are willing to talk. We may not agree at the end of the conversation, but they are not spreading hate.

5. This has come up before: episodic memory, where brief anecdotes take the place of historical understanding.

And this is the moment where we move beyond rhetorical devices and into knowledge-based issues.

6. Bringing debunked knowledge into play and denying scholarly work on the subject. Khazars, genes, that no modern Jews have ancestry in the pre-Roman Levant, that all Jews are converts, that all Jews are… all kinds of things. The blood libel is one of them and I was blocked by someone claiming the 12th century story as true. Others weren’t blocked for arguing, so I suspect that my PhD in Medieval History was what got me blocked. 

7. Who we believe. I’ve noticed, for example, that Amnesty tends to believe Hamas over the Israeli government. The solution for this is to be a critic and scholar. Look at all the evidence. Don’t trust simple data. Not from Amnesty, not from the Israeli military, not from anyone. Question it. Question it deeply and profoundly and very, very critically.

One of the reasons Hamas does not get questions and their clear statements that they prefer their Jews dead are accepted is because of that mirror I mentioned in the last post. Hate gets reflected onto Jews and therefore the assumption is that all Jews are murderers and Hamas is a resistance movement. This is why we all fatalities in a given day attributed to the Israeli army on social media, while the (non-Israel) observers say “Hamas killed 20 people from a family that opposes it” and those fatalities are still attributed to Israel by most media. We don’t know how many people were killed by whom… hence the need to question.

8. Jews as aliens in all places. This is enhanced by how many stories are framed. eg SBS Australia leaves Jewish food off its food page except for certain select recipes. There are no regular articles or recipes, but there are for other Aussie minorities. (SBS is the multicultural broadcaster, so this goes against one of their core values.) And… this is what the book is about, the one I need to find a publisher for.

9. Jews having ‘hidden motives’ – even the most literal person (that would be me) is told regulatory “You don’t mean what you say. You’re hiding your secret agenda.” This is closely linked to those forcing Jewish culture to be hidden, obviously.

Much hate is being couched in very precise language eg previous post and the differences Zionist/ism can have. Much hate revolves around whether Israel should exist, whether Jews should be allowed to live but hidden under “We support those who are being hurt by evil” ie Gazans/Palestinians. Defining that hate and defining Jewish concepts that help reveal that hate (see previous posts) helps us see whether the conversation hides the hate or whether it’s less or even non-problematic. I have had good conversations with supporters of Gazans where those supporters do not use the 2nd and 3rd groups of definitions of Zionism ie do not bring antisemitism and antizionism into the conversation. Identifying this can be as simply as seeing if Zionist/Zionism/Israel/Jew are used pejoratively.

The three most obvious paths for identifying this are:

1) through the David Duke use of zio and its descendants, such as ziofascist, which I tend to think of as ziomostthings. The hate in the doxxing of Australian creatives in 2024 was really clear, for instance, because they were called the ‘zio600’ by haters. Some of those haters sent death threats. When name-calling stops being passive, then we’re all in trouble;

2) Through the Nazi terminology and evoking Nazi history. Last week I saw “Your grandparents were lampshades and soaps” three times, but more common is “You should be dead.”

3) Through the Protocols and its various descendants.

 

Adam Louis-Klein talks about us entering the antizionist era. His work and the work of those who talk with him and about his work is documenting the changes he observes. I don’t always agree with him, but I’m not going to do a giant summary of either his work or my thoughts on it. I’m not even going to give you a small summary. Instead, I’m going to suggest that he and his circle are lucid and thoughtful and worth looking into and forming your own opinions about. What is important right now, here, is what his work does to words like ‘Zionism.’

Right now, uses of ‘Zionism’ can be generally grouped, but within that group there is total mayhem. We’re moving past this moment of total mayhem (and he is one of the reasons why), and into new definitions that are shared by some and other definitions that are shared by others. Diacultural groups are changing, day by day.

Some of the constructs of hate will adapt to meet Louis-Klein’s work (and that of others – he’s an example, not the only scholar in the field), because they are challenged by them. The second group from the third post (that sounds so strange) will change even more, because Louis-Klein and company are uprooting their work and bringing it into the clear light of day. And some won’t care, won’t look.

The propaganda arm of whoever is propagandising will find other ways of sharing hate for Jews for as long as we’re a handy target. And as long as antisemitism exists, we’re a target. It’s nothing to do with Judaism (as the Zionism definitions show) and everything to do with pushing this society or that in this direction or that. When people decide not to be pushed in that direction, the hate diminishes.

This week, quite a few antisemites preened and gently threatened in my direction. More public Jews (I’m only semi-public) get regular and very nasty direct threats. There is an element of narcissistic show-off in Jew-hate, and that element has led many people into dark places since October 7. It has also caused many people to move gently away from once-friends who happen to be Jewish, lest the Jew cooties infect.

The microcosmos of antisemitism is like a teenage schoolyard in a really bad school, with bullies and mean girls and that boy who jumps off the roof because he wants to show off.

Two Hundred Opinions

personby Gillian Polack
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Let me borrow from the earlier posts to remind you that this is post #3 in an exploration of the various ways people currently use the words Zionism and Zionist. Two years ago, I checked with around 200 people and discovered around eight definitions. This is a perfectly normal number of definitions for a single word. In big dictionaries many words have six to eight definitions. This made them easy to work with. These definitions of Zionism fell into three groups. To understand where someone was coming from culturally or politically, all I had to do two years ago was find which group of definitions they used. Technically, those groups establish diacultural traits on the subject: who shares what with whom shows who knows whom and lives in similar worlds.

Right now, there are a lot more definitions than eight. Language is an ever-changing glory (as is diaculture), and when things come into the public gaze and when there are groups actively trying to erase standard definitions and add new ones, shifts will happen quite quickly. When those changes happen in many countries and in many different cultural and political groups, those changes create a really fuzzy world that’s difficult to navigate.

There is just one more post after this, although if it’s very long, it may be in more than one part. In that post, I will introduce some of the current definitions of Zionism as I saw the word used … until the moment I was blocked by so many bigots that I lost access to their language. Tomorrow’s post will be a snapshot of the use of the word from about December 2025 to the end of January 2026. Establishing a snapshot of key terms is one of the approaches to culture that I use as an historian. When I need to analyse a text (medieval or modern or something else entirely) I often make a private snapshot of the use of key words and phases. This gives me a grounding for understanding the views that are being expressed. It also helps me understand the path language takes after that snapshot. Thank my historian self, then, for leading you astray, and not my novelist self.

I borrowed from my own work, because two books urgently need editing and a short story must be written and there is an essay for Patreon and… I have insufficient time to write this post from the beginning.

 

1. Jewish definitions

There are two general classes of straightforward Jewish definitions of Zionism. I’ve included the religious Christian view here because it didn’t come up in my query and it should have. It really deserves its own sub-heading with several categories, but I didn’t have any descriptions of it back then, so I will just note how it fits into a Jewish definition. I’ve left out the Naturei Karta and other extreme variants, because I’m not convinced that one can call it Zionism when there is no nation contemplated unless we’re in Messianic times. Both the Christian and the fundamentalist Jewish are therefore unsatisfactory – I’m sorry.

a) Herzl’s Zionism – an historical artefact, that died in 1948 with the advent of Israel. This was the least common definition of those from my original query. It was mentioned by only two people of the almost two hundred who gave me their thoughts. Those two people explained that now Israel is in existence, there is no need for Zionism. Herzl’s aim was achieved, end of story. The proper use of this definition, one of them clarified, is in histories.

b) support for Israel as a country. This is the most common use of the word and expresses simple support or complex of the existence of Israel as a modern country, and most of those who said “I am Zionist” as part of their definition of Zionism add the proviso that they reserved the right to criticise the actions of the Israeli government and to express their concern about problematic Israeli individuals or groups. I asked for examples. Those people considered problematic were often connected to Netanyahu and Ben-Gvir, or to the West Bank settlers.

Most of those who expressed this view to me were American, Canadian, British, Australian or Israeli, and they represented a wide range of Jewish practice and culture. The Jewish religious practice and culture all link back to Am Yisrael, Eretz Yisrael and Medinat Yisrael. How anyone uses the definitions (because there is variance in their use) depends very much on the relationship between Am, Eretz, and Medinat in their mind. It’s not a definition so much as the expression of a relationship that shows how modern Israel (Medinat Yisrael) fits in with the religious expressions that relate to the land (Eretz Yisrael) and, of course, the Jewish people (Am Yisrael). This complex set of relationships are open to almost infinite variation because we like talking things through rather than dictating belief. They’re also open to an enormous amount of variation because of the complexity of Jewish culture. Even a snapshot of one moment in a Jewish explanation will reflect variants that come from rabbis spoken to, books read, opinions of family and friends and so forth. This is why most of the cute non-Jewish diagrams showing what Zionism is or may be do not actually reflect a great deal of how Jews describe it. Simple words are used to explain this approach to Zionism. The simple words mask a wonderfully fruitful discourse.

The Christian use of it varies according to the nature of the Christian belief. Whether it’s passionate loyalty to a country, belief that the country has the right to exist, or belief that the end of days requires it to exist…it all comes down to Israel existing.

 

2. Russian-origin definitions

The second group of definitions has a fairly straightforward origin. Russia prior to 1917 dealt with its Jews a bit differently to, say Germany in the 1930s. It had extraordinary tough conscription for Jewish boys (my ancestor, Abraham Polack was one) and it also derived from The Protocols of the Elders of Zion which itself plagiarised works that were about entirely different subjects. The Protocols have not been out of print since 1903, as far as I know, and wherever this set of definitions of Zionism is used, it harks back to the Protocols. This is intended and carefully crafted prejudice.

The Russian Empire fell, but their rather nasty explanation of Zionism didn’t.

Soviet Russia used the base the Russian Empire gave. It claimed it didn’t hate Jews, just Zionists and any Jew who saw Am Yisrael or anything related. So many Jews lost their religion and their culture and links to family elsewhere in the world… but were permitted to live.

In this set of definitions, Zionism was linked to Western Imperialism, just as now, it’s linked to Colonialism. This has been called ‘sanitised antisemitism’ – a lot of the hate in Australia right now is yet another version of sanitised antisemitism. Good Jews/Bad Jews, purity statements that mean you’re worthy of remaining in a group – these are two traits of sanitised antisemitism.

Even two years ago, this group of definitions of Zionism was a set. Most people thought they were saying the same thing, but, really, they agreed on the bigotry in the heart of the definitions and not on the definitions themselves. In each of these definitions, Zionists are many, many different things, all of which define Jews as ‘other.’ Most of them are used when people want to share hate for Jews without being seen as antisemites. This brings the use of ‘Zionist’ into play: it’s often used as a deniable replacement for ‘Jew.’ This manifests as “I am not a bigot. I was talking about Zionists, not Jews.”

How you tell the difference is to look at what else the person who uses ‘Zionist’ negatively says. If there are no links to Israel and heaps of links to personal actions or to antisemitic tropes, the person is using ‘Zionist’ but talking about Jews.

While the fervour and the almost religious belief in the accuracy of these definitions are consistent, the actual qualities applied to Zionists varied in 2024. They began from the literature of hate and then found their own paths to express that hate.

In 2025 many of its users do not share their understanding of qualities and explain the word quite vaguely. I was even told “You already know what I’m talking about” when I ask for clarification. Jews are supposed to be marvellously intuitive, I suspect, and also, the person using the word has not considered how to explain it. This explains the passion behind the word ‘Zionism.’ It has the force of emotion without the qualifications of nuance.

Many users, when they talk about matters Jewish and about matters Israeli, follow the classic form of antisemitism. Many don’t. The mix of evil qualities attributed to Zionists changes from person to person. Again, this is passion without clarity. The variants on this usually link with the Russian historical definitions of Zionism. The original of these was the one derived from anti-Jewish propaganda.

 

3. Pure hate

‘Zionism’ according to these people is a word imbued with passion and truth and almost a religious fervour. That fervour contains no love. It is flooded with hate and distrust. Zionists are liars and want to own the world. Zionists are propaganda experts and manipulative and violent.

This group has two categories.

a) It took me a while to realise that, in 2024, when I asked for definitions of Zionism, a number of people gave me a description of an evil individual compiled from their own fears and fears folded into stereotyping and hate. They looked in a mirror and saw hate and said, “These people who are not like me are the cause of that hate because they personally embody the qualities I hate.” These individuals will then apply that definition to anyone Jew who does not follow a route that will demonstrate that they are one of the rare Good Jews. This route often entails expressing active hate for all things Israeli and distrust of Jews in general.

b) Zionism as an evil cult, practising the most evil thing of the moment. Genocide and paedophilia are used a lot right now, for instance. I also encounter worshipping Satan and drinking the blood of children. (By ‘encounter,’ I mean that I have been accused of all these things.) This is irrational hate transformed into the darkest fantasy the person can imagine.

Some of those doing the imagining do a simple translation between their invention and Judaism. Those accusing claim to have read about Judaism and to know it better than me, but when I told them to take their evidence of me as a murderer to the police or when I asked for a definition of Zionism that explains what they’re telling me, they mostly disappeared like snow in summer. Just one person in 2024/5 asked me why I was asking and I linked him to Jewish history sites and… I’ve not seen him hate since. Some of it, then, is lack of education about Judaism, or is education only from antisemites.

The big lesson I learned from exploring these views of Zionism, is that we can’t actually converse until we’re certain we’re on the same page, but that’s another story.

Next up, I’ll talk about current views. That has to wait until Monday, I’m afraid, because I have over 450 pages to edit and the more I can do this weekend, the easier next week will be.

Baggage

personby Gillian Polack
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I’m about to embark on a big essay. As a prequel to it, however, I want to introduce you to a book.

A-many years ago, when I was young and charming, I edited an Australian anthology called Baggage. It’s still in print, published by Wildside in the US. The Australian original was taken out of print when the collapse of Borders in Australia imploded the publisher. Every piece Eneit Press published was special (maybe excepting my novel – I cannot judge my own writing) and the loss of the press shut many doors for readers.

Why is Baggage so important to me today? I asked writers for stories of science fiction or fantasy that discussed the cultural baggage we all carry. I had an initial list of the perfect people to make the best anthology. It had two parts, since I couldn’t ask everyone at once. I emailed the writers on the first part of my initial first (obviously) and all but one of them agreed. The rest of the wonderful authors I had on my list don’t even know they were on my list, which I find sad. I still want to read stories by them. Every single story I was given by those writers is a treasure and thought-provoking and none of them overlap and they created such a fine anthology that I’ve been nervous about trying another.

These are not Jewish stories. For those most part, these are not Jewish writers. Yet the collection is one that will help anyone trying to understand about the current wave of antisemitism. How? It demonstrates, through story, some of the massive differences in the cultural baggage we each bear. What we carry, how we carry it, how much of a burden it can be and how different people see it quite, quite differently. It achieves all this through very well told story. Which means, if you don’t want to jump straight into theory and definitions and cultural analysis, you don’t have to. You can read some of the best short stories I’ve ever edited.

Then I’ll bring in the heavy stuff, either here or on my own blog. In this difficult few years, however, we don’t always need to confront. Sometimes we can simply read and enjoy and find our own paths from what we read. This is why I’m giving you a prologue, which is Baggage.

 

Golden threads and weirdness and Australia.

personby Gillian Polack
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I haven’t forgotten that I was going to introduce tsedakah last week. Stuff happens. And then more stuff happens. Much of the stuff has links to matters Jewish.

First we had the Bondi murders, and then a major literary conference fell to bits largely because of internal clashes about ethics. These internal clashes became a national mess. And now, Parliament’s back early and we had so many kind words about those lost at Bondi, and a national day of mourning later in the week and I think the whole country is confused. The latest political opinion poll suggests this. A far right party is coming out of the shadows and making one of the two largest parties in the country scared. The far left has most of its old vote, but not all. And our prime minister has lost most of his personal support: if Labor want a safe election next time, they might need to change their leadership. Or not. Labor is stubborn and full of factions.

All this pales compared with what’s happening in the Middle East, in Iran, in the US, and even in the UK. But it’s our mess, and we must handle it. One thing I would like to see us return to is civil society. Discussions and analyses rather than street marches.

Why? The big Sydney Harbour Bridge march last year had a lot of wonderful people doing what they thought was the right thing. Marching alongside them in support of Gazans were the Bondi shooters, and the rather antisemitic writer who upset the applecart in Adelaide and led to one of the most important writers’ festivals in the country being cancelled. Marching alongside this writer was almost everyone I’ve seen who is loudly and opinionatedly antisemitic. Many of these individuals were grouped near a guy holding a picture of Khomeini. I don’t know if it was a photo op, or if all these people actually work together, but the cluster of them in the most famous photo of the march indicates a cluster of problems.

It’s going to be difficult to roll back the performative and to return to the Aussie politics I used to know. I’m not connected in the way I used to be. I was pushed out of the behind-the-scenes stuff through being too Jewish and too ill. Australia admires health. It also has this really stupid habit of sweeping people who belong but should not be heard under the front stairs.

Why am I thinking of front stairs?

I’m back in the Middle Ages this week and ought to be talking about foodways, but have been focused on trying to understand our current very strange politics. What happens when the Middle Ages is there and I try to pretend it isn’t? Literary references happen, most frequently.

The boy under the stairs was Saint Alexis being holy. I’m probably under the stairs, but being sarcastic. The sarcasm means that old friends and new sneak in to join me, and we watch the goings on and are surprised at how people we know to be intelligent get caught up in performance and leave a goodly portion of their intellect behind.

Tsedekah is much nicer, but must wait until life is less exciting.

Just for the record, I could have gone to Parliament House and heard all the sorrowful speeches today. Instead, I watched the second last season of Stranger Things and I did some work and filled in all kinds of questionnaires. I decided it was not wise to hear those who ought to have sorted out the hate when it was straightforward being terribly sorry at all the murders. All those people should still be alive. Synagogues and mosques should not be burning. And all the time we spend trying to find that bolted horse could have been spent in doing so many things that Australia needed.

It will be Purim soon and gifts to two charities are traditional for this festival. I’ve chosen two that are important to me. It’s early, but all this thought led me to think what I could do. One charity gives reading to children. Those children are very rural and living on the land of their ancestors. They do so much better when they have books that concern themselves and are written by people they know in the language they speak. The other is for OzHarvest, which helped me out when I was under the poverty line. It rescues food and makes sure that food reaches people who don’t have the money to buy it.

Maybe around Purim will be an appropriate time to explain why the books are more Jewish as a gift than the food. Not more Jewish. I’m explaining badly. Ranked more highly as a type of gift. You’ll have to wait until March for the explanation.

Tomorrow is research-for-writing. I am interviewing a group of Jewish teenagers for a novel. A rather special novel, and one that I was not expecting to write. It’s not a guaranteed publication, but it’s a guaranteed “I’d love to see this if you’d consider writing it.” It’s the kind of book I’ve been saying we need for the last 20 years, one where Jewish Australia is shown as the driver of a story about Jewish Australians. The US has many YA novels that do just this for Jewish readers, but Australia, far less so.

I’m also finishing a short story where the King of Demons meets a very English vampire in Sydney. I have other fiction happening, including a novel emerging later in the year, but this week everything is Jewish.

The more hate there is, the more I write Jewish stories and Jewish history. Hate has reinforced my Jewishness ever since I was a child. When I was accused of eating baby’s blood in unleavened bread (in primary school), I taught the accusers basic kashruth. These are the type of stories I always tell.

What I don’t always tell is the reason I learned the Grace After Meals (the long one, all in Hebrew). I was so annoyed with several bigots and I decided I would say it every single lunchtime until the haters stopped bugging me. I kept saying it even after they stopped bugging me. Also they would have stopped bugging me anyhow, but I didn’t know this until it happened.

They didn’t stop because I could babble in Hebrew. They stopped because I became the high school student everyone else needed to ask questions of, especially in the lead up to exams. I could teach and I remembered everything teachers’ said and I understood it all. This gave me a place to belong, a role that was so very much mine. After I put the siddur away, someone would sit next to me and ask “Gillian, do you remember the calculus from yesterday?” or, a couple of years later, “Gillian, tell me about this piece of Chaucer.”

What most Jewish Australians have been pushed out of are those places we belong in the wider community. Since Australia is so secular, this is rather more important than it looks. Changing definitions, not listening to our voices, not publishing our books, telling us we have to leave our home country because we’re Jewish, accusing us of all kinds of impossible crimes… this all smudges together and makes an everyday that’s very difficult to handle.

Every single Australian organisation that still accepts me as Gillian (right now, my professional Medieval one, the Tolkien folks, and the Perth science fiction convention) gives me a golden thread to hold and to guide me through this labyrinth. Every single one that cuts off that thread (more than one writers’ organisation), leaves me stumbling. I find my balance within Jewish Australian culture, because that’s the place where my identity is not questioned.

As has been said so many times about Australia, we’re a weird mob. This is just another facet of that weirdness.

More Context

personby Gillian Polack
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Last week I gave some of the contexts for current antisemitism in Australia.

This week, so many of the Left are arguing that we don’t need a Royal Commission and so many others are arguing that we do need a Royal Commission, but very few of them are talking about the path Australia had taken to reach the point where Jews were murdered on Bondi. For some (especially on the right) it fits a bunch of their conceptions of the Labor Government, and on the Left, they are being very careful to disassociate the shooters from any demonstrations and other hate and very slow to admit the government cutback on investigations of what ASIO had determined was the #1 threat to Australia. In other words, the government may well have seen this coming.

If they didn’t, then they missed the picture of the shooters marching across Sydney Harbour Bridge. My view is (since I had friends marching) that we can’t assume hate on the part of all marchers, but we need to know how much hate was on the Bridge at that time. We also can’t assume that the march itself didn’t (whether intentional or not) support hate towards Jewish Australians. A group of senior people at the head of that march have been very public with their negative thoughts about Jewish Australia. I follow them on X, because I feel I need to understand them, but I always have to clear my mouth from the bad taste of their thoughts.

If you want to follow these people on social media, begin with the Australian Union Movement (Doug Cameron is a good path into that) – not all unionists are such bigots, but some of the leading unionist are. This is not new.

The historical context is that there was a strong Jewish component in the Australian Left. This was especially true in the 1950s and maybe 60s. In the 70s, more and more Jews hid their identities or turned to being a performative “Good Jew” in order to stay in the Left. I’m not that good at being performative, whatever branch of politics we’re talking about, in case you were wondering (which you were not!) This have reached a curious point since the 70s. Now, the further left someone travels, the more likely they are to be in a nest of joyous antisemites. I wait to see what anyone says about who I am and what assumptions they hold about my existence before I know I’m safe with them. This is not only unionists, but, for family reasons, the union aspect contains certain ironies. I can identify how safe I am with the far right (mostly not, but easy to spot) more easily than with the left.

What I thought might be useful today is not a list of those who hate and claim not to, however, but links to places that open the subject in different ways. I don’t agree with everyone and all the things said, but these citations will enable anyone who also needs to understand to explore further. To cross boundaries and begin to understand modern Australia, rather than being fixated on a narrow view,

I want to begin with something that doesn’t even mention Jewish Australia. Let me link to someone who says this better than I can and then I’ll try to explain anyhow: https://x.com/MatthewNouriel/status/2007975770342506846
The subject is performative politics, directly speaking about this week. When are we helping someone, and when are we failing even to listen?

First thing first (and why I talk about Jewish Australia rather than the people of Gaza) listen to those who are being hurt to determine the nature of the hurt. I cannot speak for the people of Gaza. I can speak for myself.

When we listen, we can help more effectively. And the best help is often in ways that support multiple voices of those under attack. I can attest that most performative people will tell me what to think rather than ask what I’m dealing with. I began to post some of my experiences on my Facebook page to address that a little. For the status of this, see the note below.
Just to make it clear that I’m not talking about extremists, a kind soul put some social media screenshots of more extreme thinking. I have not looked into it (I’m not that well right now and everything’s a bit difficult), and I really hope it’s fake. https://x.com/l3v1at4an/status/2007847171723505810

Next is a bit of background about Labor’s relationship with Islamic preaching in Australia. At the time of the Hilaly furor (1980s, when I was working on a PhD in Sydney), I was treated quite unkindly by performative supporters (‘performative’ is my work of the week) and those who kept me safe were Pakistani Australian, Lebanese Christian Australian, and Palestinian Australian friends. In the early 2000s there were places in Sydney I already I had to hide my Jewishness and spend as little time as possible there, but there was far less spitting hate. It was just as difficult to be a woman in those streets as a Jew. And the streets to avoid weren’t many.
Due to my experience over time, I am always going to look for the views of informed individuals. Those who act on the preaching of extremists need to learn to live in a shared society. Those who do not, are getting blamed for the hate of others. This applies to the Jewish community too, but in a different way. All Jews who are not “Good Jews” are in the wrong, I’m told, and be deported from Australia (for existing, I assume) but are not allowed to go to Israel because the same people want it not to exist.

In other words, hate is not shared equally. Rhetoric counts more than checking things through and understanding. The rhetoric is strong in this one, but at the heart of his clamour there is some really interesting (and worrying) Australian history. https://x.com/MarkWRowley/status/2007965362776945037

So what is the Jewish community thinking right now? So many different things, but this article by Adam Slonim in The Australian, shared by the president of the National Council of Jewish Women of Australia sums some of it: https://www.facebook.com/lynda.benmenashe/posts/pfbid0S4dFspFfPFJLSinvEewo17cq1pJQNMhnQZ3qLaLci35Qj8ehwcB8skKuHWoM7Bffl?__cft__[0]=AZYKbgPaM44VBpGF3-7O3tHeBoRT__5gkXWnjvplaV9F7Hrx_z9Xqy80jfFTeg-g64wTEiH6KLvvOKD71r6YQJpQWKzlaWruEbYwGgdEpX1yK1afdv_QmsObJ0_dAlkf770&__tn__=%2CO%2CP-R

And this is some of what it boils down to https://www.facebook.com/adam.klein.7399/ which links to this https://www.commentary.org/articles/eli-lake/asajew-brief-history/

As I said earlier, I don’t agree with everything. This is purely to help those who need to understand things from other (Jewish Diaspora) directions. I cannot speak for Israel, partly because I’m Diaspora and partly because I don’t know enough. I do however, as my historian self, see that most people shouting at Israel are doing it from emotional pedestals and without sufficient evidence. This may be pushed as propaganda, or it may come from deep cultural antisemitism… either way, I need to learn more.

I had intended to give you something more balanced and also some idea of the definitions of Zionism that are used to connect people and t push hate (9 definitions so far and– we can’t talk on common ground without agreed definitions, which doesn’t help at all. What I’ve shared today is an emotional rollercoaster, so I shall stop there. If anyone wants me to talk about definitions and how they help us find what we share and where we disagree on heartland matters, and why some of the defintions contribute so directly to violent hate, say so in the comments and that will be your post next week.

Small update: I have been thrown off Facebook (no reason given, nor any apparent way of sorting things out, though I’m still trying.). I am considering what I can do to keep in touch with everyone.
In case you need to contact me directly and I’m still (or forever) banned from FB, ping me in the comments, please, and when I work something out, I’ll let you know.

Unintended Consequences, or How We Fail to Hear About Good Books

personby Gillian Polack
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Today I’m thinking about how we hear about writers. This is not only for general reading, but also for academic writing. The second, in this case, leads to the first.

One of the subjects academics ask me about or various bods want me to write about is Australian science fiction and fantasy. Until a few years ago I knew when any book was coming out and knew most of the writers and was exceptionally useful. Right now, I’m only useful on some subjects.

I can talk about writers until about 2015, and often write about writers before 1900. An article of mine on Tasma-of-the-many-names was just published in Aurealis, an Australian speculative fiction magazine. I can write about Jewish Australian writers and, in fact, do. I can also write (and do) about the links between Australian writing and the writing of other countries. Also, many books that incorporate history are still part of my terrain because, first and foremost, I’m an ethnohistorian.

Recently, I stopped writing about most contemporary Australian writers. Some I still know a bunch about, but for many I know only the names of their works. Given I have so much else to write about and don’t have the physical capacity to go chasing, I now avoid mentioning certain types of writers. I still consult, behind the scenes, when international scholars want to flesh out their knowledge, but I have to tell them that, “I know about this person and their work, but I don’t know where it belongs.” I no longer introduce Irish fans to the latest in Australian speculative fiction: we talk about other things.

Why did this change?

There are three reasons.

When I let the wider world know that I was not well, two groups of local writers dumped me from their social circles, almost instantly. This marches alongside with when my eyesight started failing and I was no longer permitted to be an award judge. It was apparently too difficult to give me lifts or to make sure that a dinner was reasonably COVID-safe or to find a type of text my eyes could read without making them worse.

These decisions by others makes it much harder for me to find out more about writing from Australia, and especially from Canberra and the Canberra region. Given how much the world of publishing is changing and how we hear about something is often somewhat random, this has significant consequences. If I can’t answer questions at an academic conference, very few of the scholars asking questions look further. They’re also overworked and under stress: this is not an easy decade for any of us.

I don’t hear about work now by these groups of writers or those who are close to them until after the work is published. I would have to put in extra work for each and every published book to find out that it has been published and if a book is in my scholarly ballpark. I have chronic fatigue, five books to finish, and I am no longer paid to write articles about groups of books. I miss being a pro-blogger and a literary magazine person, because they gave me paid time to chase things. My paid time is firmly Medieval right now, and does not include modern SFF unless I’m writing something for Aurealis.

Prior to my exclusion, chat told me what was going on and I could chase it and… I knew so much without much effort. My social circles, in fact, were what initially pushed me into writing about contemporary speculative fiction online and in magazines and giving papers at conferences. One of the symptoms of my illnesses is chronic fatigue: I will take that extra work, but only when I can. I’ve had this symptom since my 20s, but it’s only after I confessed to it that it changed what I knew by changing who would accept me in their social circles.

Only a very few non-Australian academics write about Australian speculative fiction. I know many of them. My refocus on subjects that are achievable without make me more ill affects how these writers are seen outside Canberra. It is not intentional discrimination on my part, but if I don’t have time or energy to chase up something new that touches on my areas of expertise I then write on subjects that are just as interesting to my readers, but that don’t push me beyond my capacity. Eustace the Monk is a case in point. I’ve now been asked by a number of people about Eustace, and used the same core research for each inquiry. This enables me to have a full life, despite the illness.

Second, when I was excluded from a particular science fiction convention, the writers who consulted with me there lost access to me. And me, I was no longer in a position to hear about their work while they were thinking about it, because they no longer asked me questions or did my workshops. Work by those writers has to wait, the way work by most other writers waits, for me to get around to it. Since I was first working on a dissertation and now on non-fiction books, and also write my novels, the wait is long.

The first and second reasons added together affect one group of writers in particular. When scholars and fan organisers ask me about most Canberra authors, I tell them what I know, but what I know is no longer insider-knowledge for most writers. I’m not the only one, as local academic jobs in the Humanities are few and far between. Scholarly work about Australian speculative fiction is likely to mention writers’ names in passing than to look at their work closely or to teach it at university. Those who were part of my earlier studies are still getting articles written about them or even being tagged for (paid) academic stuff as a long-term result of that work. I am not doing the research or running academic programmes: I am merely one of the half dozen people who can be asked casually about the subject. That ‘merely’ has consequences for how much attention given to some writers who are probably very deserving of scholarly work and being taught at university. Some writers still get attention, but most writers won’t be seen. This only affects a group of universities, but there are very few universities in the world that teach Australian speculative fiction as a subject. Other courses that include Australian writers will only include the extraordinary,  and most of our fiction will be passed over.

The third reason, of course, is that I’m Jewish. I am no longer included on lists of writers to ask about this or that, because Jew cooties may be infectious.

So many other writers locally have no idea of my work at this point, much less my research. I joke that I’m better known in Germany than in Australia, which is not entirely true. I’m better known in some parts of Germany than in some parts of Australia. I’ve gone from being an Ambassador of Reading for the country, to being left off lists as a writer. This, again, reduces who I see and who I can recommend to others. It has, in fact, a bigger impact that the other two reasons combined. Jew cooties would not be a problem in the writing world if there had been a flurry of activity to replace the Jewish writers and publicists and editors and more. There has not been. We’re seeing an increasing numbers of holes in communication in both the writing world and in academia, and even in bookshop events, simply because of individuals who are too Jewish and whose work has not been replaced.

This is worse in the US than Australia. In Australia it’s my kind of work that’s missing. That’s too big to examine here. Maybe another day.

This disadvantages those who are not leaving me out of things, because I won’t write the general introduction to a field I am not on top of. The result right now? An introductory article I was going to write for an academic journal is not even going to be suggested. Someone else will have to write it.

When we play games with people’s lives, the person whose life is targeted is not the only victim. As a Jewish writer, my book sales are down by 75%. As a Jewish/chronically ill academic, the book sales of those I would have written about are also diminished.

The writing world is complex. Hate and exclusion do not affect just the target: they change what books we know about and what writers we want to read. My recent life is an example this.

 

Update: The chrnoic illnesses have ruled my week and so I put this up unedited. If you read it before 14 August, note that it is now edited! And tagged.

Lateness

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I’m late with this post because I’ve been wrangling antisemitism again. It’s become worse… again. And so I’m behind on things… again. The good news is that the book I’m writing on how a bunch of people see and share the Jewish history of Germany from before 1700 is reaching the end of a first draft. It may be difficult to find a publisher because things Jewish are not popular right now, but I’ve been exploring how museums and tourist places, and books, and strangers, and community presentative, and historians and archaeologists and even occasional random antisemites are part of how we see the past.

In one way, this is Gillian as she always is. My life revolves around story and history, after all.

In another way, it’s a new path, because I’ve not had the confidence to question some of our big assumptions about who we are and how we came to be. Just today I saw a comment about Ashkenazi Jews not being actually European. I want to revolt when people say things like this, because it shows how very little they know about Jewish history. Most of us were first brought into Europe by the Romans nearly 2000 years ago. Some came earlier, some came later. If we’re not European, then there are a lot of other people counted as European who are not.

The heart of Ashkenazi Jewish culture was formed in what’s now France and Germany in the Middle Ages. Our religion is from the Levant and our religious culture is from the Levant, but our popular culture and how we shape our world is European. yet there are many people who question this and yet accept eastern and central Europeans whose ancestors arrived in Europe far more recently. And I know why this is.

What I haven’t understood is how deeply I and all my teachers accepted the othering. I’m now de-accepting it and discovering that the reason I’m so comfortable analysing English and French and German history is because the heart of Ashkenaz is not only in Germany (I was there last year, exploring for the book) but even Ashkenazi Jewish educational teaching has a French and German heart.

We are both Levantine and European in equal amounts. They’re not separate things, either. There’s not a section of my European ancestral cultures that’s European and another section that is from Jerusalem. There’s a wonderful integration. Maybe I’ll explore this hen I’m finished the five big projects I’m currently engaged in. Or maybe I’ll just sit back and think, “This explains so much.” Last night I explained how much and why to a friend who is a chazan and he was mindboggled because … once you see it, you can’t unsee it.

There are so many reasons I adore research. Being mindboggled is definitely one of them. Also, it’s such a very Jewish thing to experience more and more hate and to turn to learning for comfort.

More on living Jewishly in Australia

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I don’t normally share here what I’ve posted elsewhere, but I wrote something quickly for Facebook and realised that it meant more than I realised and so I’m sharing it. I suddenly saw that what I thought was unique and personal, told a story about Australia and Australians and the different places Jews hold in this country. It’s not a full picture, or even close to a full picture. It’s how much of Jewishness is out of sight in Australia and how some of us handle this.

In other places I am still the person I always was, in Canberra no-one wants me to give talks to to be seen in public. Most people don’t hate me, but folks who have known me for years and even decades have recently started demonstrating a whole bunch of reactions to my being Jewish. For some, I’m hurting others simply by being myself: a couple of people have recently informed me of how privileged and white I am and how much of the cause of problems (both in Australia and elsewhere) can be blamed on me. For others, I’m a low priority in their life where previously I was a close friend, and when these old friends cluster or when a group of those who think along these lines get together, if I say something it will be instantly contradicted before anyone stops to consider what I actually said.

A part of this is because I’m forever-unwell and Australia does not handle illness with much style. Most of the change has, however, happened since COVID (which taught so many of us to not be our best selves) and especially since October 7. There are whole social groups and work-related groups I’m now simply not reminded of or invited to because I’m Jewish, and there are others I may share as long as I do not assert myself too much. The most amusing part of the whole shebang (and it really is amusing) is that I am not considered an expert on much at all in the circles that do not want me round. Given that I have two PhDs and another one about to be submitted and all kinds of books written and conference papers delivered and research done and talks delivered and… I am an expert in those topics, this is a very peculiar kind of wilful blinkering.

All of this is local. It has led to big lifestyle changes and those led to some thoughts on Facebook. Those thoughts (with amendments) are the rest of this post.

I’ve talked before about being a giraffe. My giraffehood comes from being the first Jew many Australians have met.

“Oh, I’ve never met a Jew before,” a person informs me, and looks at me as if I am in a zoo. This is why I call it being a giraffe. I’m willing to talk openly about my Jewishness, so I’m a giraffe who answers questions. The questions and comments used to be mostly kind and fair. They are less so right now. At the moment, after the surprise that I’m actually Jewish, I’m informed who I am and what I think and how horrid I am if I don’t use the words they tell me to use and announce my self-hate at once. Once a week, without fail, I’m told that either I worship Satan or murder children. (For anyone wondering, I have not done or ever have wanted to do either of these things.) These questions and comments, when experienced several times a week, make me feel as if I’m on show.

Today something provoked a very different memory.

In the days before COVID and before the current rise in antisemitism (so any time until the end of 2019) I gave talks and was on panels at a couple of larger functions a year on average. Every single time, it being (mostly) in Australia people would chat with me in the foyer or over coffee afterwards. Australians chat over drinks. It’s a part of who we are. Mostly the discussion leads with comments like “I didn’t know Australia had any Jews before” or, on one very special day “Do you really have horns?” When I was much, much younger, children would actually feel my head for those horns.

Every second chat (again, on average) someone would look around to make sure that everyone else was out of earshot. They would confide in me. Sometimes they had Jewish parents but were brought up Christian “for safety”. Sometimes they were happily non-religious, but knew that their parents had been Jewish and were curious. I have enjoyed many conversations about how OK atheism for different branches of Judaism with this group of interesting people and even more conversations about why parents would choose to leave the Judaism behind and even to hide it. Sometimes those who confided in me were practising Jewish but didn’t know anyone outside their family because it was safer to be not-Jewish when out in the world. Most of these individuals had parents who were Holocaust survivors. Some were from other backgrounds but their families had also memories of persecution, often very recent. The real discussion began when they discovered we could talk about these things but that it wasn’t the whole story. I was brought up to understand that the persecution is a part of our history but (sorry Cecil Roth) the lachrymose version of Jewish history hides so much more than it explains. My history self is working on this reinterpretation of Jewish pasts for the next little while, and that’s partly because it was so important to the individuals who came to me and talked about Jewishness in secret.

I was a different kind of giraffe for these folks. I was the Jew they could talk to safely. I never tell enough about them for anyone to be able to identify them. I have many conversations after panels and after giving talks or keynotes, and these people were among the many. Their privacy is important. No-one hides such a large part of themselves without very good reason. I use my not-very-good memory to forget their names and where they live. I would have to work hard to remember those details and I simply don’t try to remember. This has led to me being very forgetful of names and addresses and friends have to always remind me, over and again. This is not a large price to pay for the safety of others.

Occasionally (like now) I will mention their existence. I’m often and usually the first person they have every spoken to outside their immediate family about anything Jewish.

The number of people who shared their confidences with me diminished somewhat when the Australian census changed its collection style. The number of people who admitted to being Jewish in Australia also dropped dramatically. It was no longer possible to guarantee addresses and names would be detached from information collected and so identifying as Jewish carried different baggage to earlier. I suspect there are many Jewish Australians whose background is not known to the Bureau of Statistics any more. I once estimated that there were around 200,000 of these people, but there is no real way of knowing. Since I don’t think those who let me know they’re Jewish are more than the tiniest % of those who don’t talk about being Jewish Australian, I know the thoughts of a few dozen people, not of everyone who hides their Jewishness in Australia.

The number of confidences diminished to zero after October 7, but this is partly because I’m no longer invited to give many talks. I’m the wrong kind of Jew for Canberra or East Coast Australia, or my expertise is no longer valued, or people want to avoid problems, so I’m not invited to the sort of meetings where someone can seek me out quietly and find out more about their heritage.

What I miss most about those conversations is the recipe-swapping. I have two really wonderful Crypto-Jewish recipes that I’ve dated to the 17th century from a person who identified publicly as Latin American Catholic. I gave them information about books and websites where they could place their heritage and understand it better without having to break their public face. This was a win-win. Once a year I cook a 17th century Jewish recipe from that hidden tradition, to celebrate how much this person knew (and still knows!) and how amazing it was to hear about it. (I also cook these dishes to honour those who were murdered at the command of the Inquisition, and this is my normal public reason for cooking: today is not normal.) At moments like that I understand why I might be a safe person to talk to about things.

Since October 7 and the diminution in places in Australia that want to hear me, there has, as I’ve said been no-one sharing these secrets. This means that there are fewer people who touch base with those who are isolated and scared. Those who found comfort in me chatting about how to write family stories or how to teach cultural differences respectfully or how to interpret foodways or all those stories about the Middle Ages are not going to talk to a rabbi or visit a community centre when hateful slogans are painted on the walls or there was a fire bomb or anywhere where there is a crowd chanting Jewhate slogans outside.

Australia has always been somewhat antisemitic. It was also one of the important places where Shoah refugees came. It’s always had a Jewish population that feels safer unseen. Moments when strangers can reach out and share their identity are so very important, given all of this.

I think one of the reasons I was considered safe might have been because it’s not been wise to wear a magen david in Canberra for about 20 years, so I wasn’t flamboyantly Jewish… I was just Jewish. Or it may be for another reason. Thinking back, I had my first conversations along these lines when I was pre-teen, so it may be something about the way I hold myself. I honestly don’t know. Several people have said it’s because I talk so much, so maybe it’s that.

When I first started having those conversations I used to feel so guilty, because I couldn’t understand why these people hid their identity. I always kept everything secret because someone had asked it and because I respected them.

These days, life in Jewish Australia is far more problematic. I can see the wisdom in being a hidden Jew.

Australian elections are never what we expect

personby Gillian Polack
schedulePosted on

Three years ago on April 10, I wrote:

Australia’s much-awaited (by us, anyhow) election was called yesterday. This is not just any election. It’s our last opportunity to move away from rabid and corrupt politics.

Our next election is on Saturday and we live in a different country. Three years ago, we were ruled by a queen, and now we’re ruled by a king. For some reason, we are far more prone to jokes under Charles than we were under Elizabeth. Technically, most of the parties are still similar, but this is another pivotal election, and not because of Charles. This was our position three years ago https://treehousewriters.com/wp53/2022/04/10/why-the-aussie-elections-are-so-important-this-year-an-introduction-for-the-unwary

We still have Mr Dutton, currently Leader of the Opposition, who has an apparent and possibly heartfelt desire to be Trump-lite. He replaced Scott Morrison when we decided we didn’t want more Trump-lite three years ago, which makes it a mystery to me why he’s choosing this path right now. Maybe he knows something about Australia that I do not know? I suspect his party would have won the election if he had not made that decision. Why do I think this? Dutton was doing very nicely in the polls until his aim to copy Trump was clear.

Independent of his policies, are his nicknames. I suspect he’s in the running for the most nicknames in history of any senior Australian politician. The one that trumps all (sorry, I could not resist the pun) is “Mr Potato Head.” Australians seldom give nice nicknames. Our current prime minister is nicknamed “Albo” which looks innocuous until you allow for the Australian accent. Our accent means that we call our PM “Elbow.” Intentionally.

Back to the parties. Now, there are other parties (minor ones) who also desire to copy Trump. One has even renamed themselves “Trumpet of Patriots.” No-one speaks kindly of them, but speaking kindly of people is not common in this election. The longest debate I’ve heard about them was which nickname is the best. The one that sticks in my mind (not the most common, just the silliest) is “Strumpet.” In and of itself, this will not affect their votes. Their policies, however, are not compatible with the left, or anyone who votes sort of centralish. Most of us vote sort of centralish, which, in comparison to the US, is slightly left wing. Sometimes quite left wing. This means that the Strumpets are the closest Australia comes to a Trump-like party. They’re not that, though. They’re right wing modified by some current causes. Current causes are a big thing right now.

Back to logic and commonsense. Three years ago I explained that the LNP (which we call the “Coalition,” mostly) were in power and that they were right wing. They are still right wing. They’ve lost a lot of their reputation and are in the middle of a generational change. The vote three years ago caused that, in a way, as did their wipeout in the biggest state in the country. Many of the new candidates for this elections (especially in electorates like my own where not a single LNP person won a seat in either house) are shiny new people about whom we know… not much. (If I were writing this for Aussies, I would use ‘bugger all’ instead of ‘…not much’, but I am aware of US sensibilities about what is everyday English in Australia. Not so aware that I refuse to tease you about it, but aware.)

Labor is now in power, and have the Elbow as leader. Albo is not much loved right now (and neither is Penny Wong, who, three years ago, we all adored), but I suspect Labor still represents more than 50% of Australians. It is a party strongly linked to unions and ought to be quite far left (and once was further left) but now it’s the centrist party. Since I’m in the mood to point things out, the party has US spelling and not Aussie spelling because it was named by a teetotaller US founder. Australia being Australia, we named a pub after him, just as we named a swimming pool after a prime minister who drowned. (I wrote about some of this three years ago. Good historical jokes are worth repeating.) I firmly believe that Australia is everyone’s ratbag cousin who is very charming but gets up to much mischief.

Three years ago I talked about the Greens. This year, I want them at the bottom of everyone’s vote. This won’t happen. They have set up a whole branch of the left (including many people who used to be my friends) and those people exclude Jews and hate Jews and blame Jews and do not listen to Jews and… you can imagine the rest. Me, I live it. They’ve put forward candidates that put the bad stuff happening in the Middle East ahead of what’s happening in Australia. If they get as much power as the latest polls suggest (14% of the vote) then quite a few Australian Jews will either have to hide (many are doing this already) or leave (and some have already left).

The party has always been left wing, but now they’re closer to Communist than to the environmental activists they once were. I am often scolded for saying these things. I answer the scolds with the labels placed in Jewish Australians by their supporters.

Some of the new Left don’t even believe there are Jewish Australians. I had that discussion with someone just yesterday. They now believe I exist, but it took two hours to convince them. We’ve been here since the first long term European settlement in 1788 (one of the First Fleet babies was the first Jewish free settler), so many of us are descendants of colonists. Most of us are descendants of refugees. And every day someone scolds me for personally having colonised Israel and murdered Palestinian children.

The hate is carefully targeted. Most of the rest of Australia has no idea. It’s a bit like domestic violence. “That very good person can’t have caused that black eye. You must’ve walked into a door.” This is being Jewish in Australia right now. It’s why the bottom of both my ballots is already populated by the Green candidates.

There is a new environmental party (Sustainable Australia) which won’t be down the bottom of my ballot. They’re not going to gain power, but if they can increase their influence a bit maybe we can talk about what needs to be done to deal with climate change rather than about the problem of antisemitism. The antisemitism isn’t just the Greens, you see. ASIO (our CIA equivalent) gave its annual assessment publicly this year. They said that antisemitism is Australia’s #1 security threat. Media ignored it. The Greens ignored it. All the other major parties factored it into their policies, but are talking about housing and jobs and the like because we have a housing crisis. I am still dealing with the notion that the new Australia can’t keep more than two ideas in its head at once.

Everyone else belongs to small parties or independents. Lots of those already in Parliament or the Senate are being challenged. Some will get second terms, others will not.

David Pocock is one of the bellwethers. He was voted to replace Zed, who was right wing (LNP) and wildly unpopular as a person. Pocock won partly because he used to be a very famous sportsperson and partly because so many preference votes flowed to him. He was the third in primary votes, and won on preferences. (This is a very Australian thing, and I can explain the voting system again to anyone who has forgotten or would like to be able to follow our vote on Saturday night.) The thing is… he voted leftish for most of his time in the Senate. Frequently, he voted alongside the Greens. He replaced a right wing party in that Senate place. What will that do to his preferences next Saturday?

How many independents and small parties will get through in a strange election where the main left wing party expresses bigotry? It depends on how far we veer left as a country. It depends on how loyal we are to individuals in both Houses. It depends on how personal everything is, in a year when I’m hearing so many people talk about their vote as personal.

I see two big options. One is that a lot of these independents lose their seats. This would return control (in the Senate in particular) to the party with the most seats in the Senate. The other option is that Australians vote a lot of these people into Parliament and the Senate and make everything very, very complex. I’m hoping that this is unlikely, given that many of the independents or small party representatives care only about one issue or are cults of personality, or are “We are not Greens – we just vote with them” people.

We don’t know how many independents or representatives of small parties will get through. The nature of advance polls is to focus on the major parties, so we really do not know how much support these legions of political individuals have in any given region.

Part of this rests on the nature of preferential voting. In the electorate of Blaxland, for instance, which has possibly the highest number of Muslim voters in the country, will the Labor candidate be returned to power, or will Omar Sakr (the Greens candidate) be voted in, or will an independent specifically representing Muslims (the one suggested by the Muslim Vote) get in? The Muslim Vote focuses on Muslim voters and assumes that their main political desire is not about housing or education, but about creating a Palestinian state. I chatted with a friend today, who is also Muslim, but from Indonesia, and she had no idea that this group even existed. The public talk about Muslim votes assume that most Muslims who vote are either Palestinian or support Gazans. And yet… we have many Muslim Australians from Bangladesh, Pakistan, Indonesia, Afghanistan, Turkey, Malaysia and various African countries. I do not know if there is a voting pattern for all these people from all these backgrounds. Some are fully integrated into Australian society, some maintain boundaries and stay largely within their own communities.

My guide to the elections three years ago was a lot simpler. Right now, it feels as if life was a lot simpler three years ago.

PS Just in case you want to know what advice Jewish voters have been given, it’s “Make up your own minds, you’re adults.” We have, however, been given a guide to making up our own minds. 2025 federal election – ECAJ

Seeing things Jewishly

personby Gillian Polack
schedulePosted on

So many strangers are telling me right now that I’m not Australian and that none of my relatives are Australian and… my mind keeps returning to what this means for the Arts in Australia. Certainly it’s much more difficult for anyone Jewish to earn money in the Arts here: there are some places I won’t even fill in the forms until I see that things have changed. I don’t have much physical capacity and when something is obviously a waste of my time, I do something else with that precious time. However… it struck me that I see the world through my upbringing. I talk about books from non-Jewish Australia a great deal, but my own view of the world is shaped by my family and their friends and the stories I was told as a child.

We all see the world from our own eyes. If someone were to ask me how I see the arts in Jewish Australia, I’d only give a partial answer, because there is so much stuff I forget. The first thing I think of, in fact, is what has impacted me and when and why. I thought, this week, then, I’d give you a little list. The list is little but it contains many words, because I annotated it. Welcome to the Arts in Australia seen Jewishly, through my life.

Let me begin with family and friends.

My mother’s family arrived in Australia before World War II or died in that war (save one person, who is not part of today’s story because he was not an artist, musician or writer). Mum’s immediate family was all here by 1918. It was a big family in Europe and is not the smallest family in Australia. Of all my mother’s cousins there are two who were well-known as writers. Very well-known, in fact.

Morris Lurie was Naomi’s brother. Naomi was so much a forever part of my life that even now she’s gone, I still think of one of Australia’s better known writers of plays through the fact that his sister was Naomi. Every time Naomi was in Melbourne, she’d shout “Sonya,” across the street to my mother, because they were very close. Mum hates loud voices and Naomi thought that Mum hating the noise and the laughter was hilarious.

I know about Morrie, and I collected his plays when I was a teenager. One of the lesser known facts of Gillian’s life is that, for twenty years, she collected plays. I still have my collection, but most of it needs a new home. I never met Morrie. He wasn’t much into meeting our side of the family. Even if we had met, I suspect we wouldn’t have had a lot in common. Naomi, on the other hand, was someone I would spend any amount of time with. She was my bridge to the Yiddish-speaking side of the family, and is the main reason why I don’t use that in my fiction: it’s her culture, not mine. My cultural self is from my father’s family. Loving Naomi, though, sent me to understand klezmer and Sholom Aleichem and so much else. I need to re-read Morrie’s plays. Maybe now I’m no longer a teenager I’ll like them more. Maybe not. I’ll see.

Arnold Zable is, as my mother explains, a family connection. His refugee cousin married Mum’s refugee cousin. Arnold is Victoria’s great storyteller. He also wrote an amazing book about the family left behind: Jewels and Ashes.

My father’s side of the family is so very musical. One of my father’s best friends was an extraordinarily well-known performer… but that’s another story. This is one of the days when stories lead to stories and those stories lead to more stories. Between family and friends, I grew up with music the way I grew up with rocks. Science and music and Doctor Who kept our family together for a very long while.

The most famous musician/composer/music critic in the family (she was never just one thing, nor was she a simple person) influenced me a great deal in my youth. Linda was my father’s first cousin, and spent time with me when I was very uncertain of where I fitted and who I was. She accompanied my sister on the piano when that sister was doing more advanced music. She told me some of the stories of her life, but never the really private ones.

Linda was Linda Phillips She described her own music as “light classics.” We played them on the piano at home… but never well. Her music was a lot more than ‘light classics’ as was Linda herself. Her daughter, Bettine, also wore her talents lightly. I knew that she had acted on stage with Barry Humphreys as an undergraduate, but I had no idea that she was a famous radio actor back when radio was the centre of so many people’s entertainment. They were both quiet about their achievements.

Here I need to explain that, not only were they modest and exceptionally fun to be with, but they were nothing close to my age. Linda was my father’s first cousin, to be sure, but she was born in the nineteenth century: she was sixty years older than me. Linda lived until the twenty-first century, and we lost Bettine to COVID. They were part of an enormous change in the Arts in Australia, beginning with Linda’s early career as a pianist over a century ago. I grew up with this, taking it for granted that there was a life in the Arts and a world and so much enjoyment… but seldom enough money to live on.

There is a third family musician, my own first cousin, Jon Snyder. His life is another story. He was in a very popular band (Captain Matchbox) and became a music teacher. His professional life began in the sixties, so the age differences are still there, but not as great. So many of the friends of my schooldays also became musicians, and three of them play in the same band, in Melbourne. That’s another story, however. I am no musician. I had some talent, but words were always more fun and, to be honest, I used to be tone deaf. I love music and the artists who create and perform it, though, because until I left home, it was part of my everyday. In fact, even when I left home, music crept up on me. I kept running into friends of Linda’s. They would send messages to Linda through me. Stories breed stories…

Also, this stopped being a list almost as early as it began being a list. I’ve only talked about a third of the writing side of the family. But this post is long enough. The rest can wait.

PS I have not at all forgotten the questions I promised to answer. There are only two questions, but the answers require a lot of thought. My everyday is a bit over the top at the moment. When things calm down, I will answer those questions. I promise.