Social Work and Antisemitism

Yesterday, I posted a thread on Twitter reflecting some snapshots of my experiences of antisemitism working within social work, from lecturers, colleagues, service users and managers.

I thought it might be something I retell in a more permanent post. I’m not writing this to educate people, there are brilliant posts out there explaining what antisemitism is. It’s a telling of some of the things I have experienced. This is coming from a position of frustration, fear and exhaustion. I have, over the past two years, watched as people I assumed would be allies in the fights we have against racism, seem to make an exception for antisemitism, as they promote politicians who have espoused or at best, tolerated antisemitism.

It’s almost as if racism against Jews, perhaps because there are few of us, is an exception to the anti-racist narrative that should espouse our profession. Perhaps it comes from the racist trope that Jews have power, or have money. This makes ‘them’ (me) an ‘acceptable’ target from the anti-racists on the left who draw anti-racism as a fight between oppressed and oppressor. Seeing jews as ‘oppressors’, whether it’s using Israel as a proxy or just drawing on the tropes of Jews as bankers behind the scenes, gives free rein for jews to fall out of the ‘oppressed’ category.

So back to some of my experiences. When I was a student, my personal tutor at university, and I can’t remember how it came up, told me I couldn’t identify as ‘white British’ because I wasn’t British. I thought of British as nationality rather than any political decision. I had four British grandparents. But no, it was deceptive if I presented or defined myself as such.

I never linked his dislike of me to my race and ethnicity and maybe it was my personality, but the next year, he failed me on my MA dissertation by 1%, despite having read it before I submitted to help me with advice. He also ‘lost’ my dissertation (it was found when I produced the receipt I had been given when I supplied it), told me he had to mark it himself (when it should have had an independent marker as he was my tutor) because it was ‘too late’ by the time he found it. Maybe it was unconnected to my difference but maybe it wasn’t.

I’ve been told a number of times, including loudly in an open plan office, and by a social work lecturer that ‘all jews are rich’, one occasion a colleague, who didn’t know I was Jewish (my name isn’t particularly Jewish) told the office that Jews shouldn’t have the right to access local authority support because they must be hiding their money. I also had (and this was also someone who teaches social workers) a riff on this with ‘all jews are middle class’.

I’m sure these people think they are great at anti-racism.

Then there are the clients who have told me that Jews control the world and they corrupt decent English folk. Or that Jews can’t be trusted (of course I haven’t said anything, maybe I should have but I needed to continue my work and not draw the attention to me).

The most explicit perhaps, was the equality and diversity training, where the trainer made derogatory comments about Jewish practice which was blatantly untrue and when I did challenge, took exception to it. I can give more examples but that’s not the point.

The point is that far more painful has been to watch ‘social work’ twitter over the past two years. I’ve seen prominent social workers and social work academics, social work organisations and representative groups, not only unable to call out antisemitism on the left, but sometimes promoting and sharing it. Because it’s not ‘real’ racism. After all, who suffers? I felt my political home was on the left and it still is, but it is hard to watch those I marched alongside in challenging the government agendas, particularly racist agendas, silent when Jews are attacked, trying to separate the Jews who agree with them as the ‘good jews’ but ignoring the majority of the population because they think the Board of Deputies or Chief Rabbi don’t have the same politics as they do without acknowledging what they represent to people like me who grew up within the Jewish community.

It can feel lonely at times. Should we need to ‘educate’ people why using the term ‘jew’ as an insult is a bad thing? (this is in reference to a few labour PPCs and councillors). This isn’t about left and right, it is about right and wrong.

Yes, there’s antisemitism on the right, of course there is. It’s bad and it happens. But it is also quickly called out by those who challenge the right. I worry when the racism on the left is simply seen as a price worth paying for a Labour government (Thanks, Guardian — I’ll never forget the fear I felt when I saw it written in black and white in a Guardian editorial that antisemitism was bad but a Tory government was worse — surely, surely that’s not how fighting racism works?).

The relationship between Jews and Israel is seen as a smokescreen. I believe Israel has a right to exist. I also despise this Israeli government and wholeheartedly condemn Netanyahu. I’d like to see two countries living peacefully together. I manage to criticise Israel, as do many, without the need to switch to antisemitism. And yet.. I’ve been challenged frequently on my view on the Israeli government when I have raised concerns about antisemitism online. It’s as if anti-racism is conditional on me having the ‘right’ political views. Standing up against racism against Jews in England shouldn’t be conditional on my political views. Racism should be challenged because it’s the right thing to do.

This is about social work because that’s the sector and the world I know. I am sure it is similar in other sectors but my sadness lies in seeing so little challenge to these views. Was antisemitism ever taught in the courses we learned about racism in social work settings? Is there any space to include racism against Jews so people don’t go into practice with dangerous, discriminatory views? Maybe there’s a role for Social Work England or BASW in challenging this. It is hard to fight alone.

I don’t ask and didn’t ask people not to vote Labour. I felt very strongly we need another government, but I ask people to question what they hear and see, even if that questioning is internal because we don’t always feel strong enough for the fight. I ask people to open their minds and consider the attitudes they have towards Jews. Use the reflection we talk about often and think about the way assumptions, tropes and attitudes creep into training and practice. I’d like to see courses address antisemitism alongside anti-racism. Because it antisemitism is racism.

I was born and raised in the UK. My grandparents told the stories of our families fleeing from hate and told us that however comfortable we feel, however, ‘British’, we feel, at some point, the host nation will turn on us because that’s the experience of Jews for many centuries. We laughed. We said things had changed now. The world was different. They were from the past. Increasingly, I’m learning that the same lessons will need to be taught to our children.