Matjaž Gruden

How to Recognize Antisemitism

/ Translated from Slovenian / Remembering Democracy

Slovenian original: Kako prepoznati antisemitizem

The Slovenian text is the original. This English version was translated with the help of AI.

Recently, the Simon Wiesenthal European Center sent an open letter to the President of the Republic of Slovenia, Nataša Pirc Musar, expressing concern over "expressions of antisemitism, xenophobia, incitement to violence, conspiracy theories, fake news, glorification of dictatorships and terrorist organizations" in Slovenia. The Simon Wiesenthal Center is a serious organization, dedicated to monitoring and combating neo-Nazism, incitement to violence, Holocaust denial, and antisemitism in Europe. It also serves in a consultative role to the Council of Europe.

As it appears, the letter was prompted by social media posts from a journalist at the Slovenian national broadcaster RTVSLO. The journalist came under fire for vocally criticizing Israel and its policies toward Palestinians.

It is a known fact that criticism of Israeli policy often masks antisemitism. But it is equally true that some Israeli politicians often try to suppress legitimate criticism by labeling it as antisemitism. The line between justified critique and unacceptable antisemitic undertones is not always clear or easily understood. Israeli politics itself may have contributed to this confusion.

As the late British historian Tony Judt—himself of Jewish origin—once described it:

“The habit of branding any foreign criticism with the brush of antisemitism is deeply ingrained in Israeli political instinct. Ariel Sharon exaggerated it characteristically, but he was only the latest (this article was published in Haaretz in 2016, editor’s note) in a long line of Israeli leaders to do so. David Ben-Gurion and Golda Meir had similar habits. But Jews outside Israel pay a high price for this tactic. It not only deters them from criticizing Israel themselves—fearing they’ll be associated with bad company—but also encourages others to view Jews everywhere as de facto accomplices in Israel’s misconduct. When Israel violates international law in occupied territories, when it publicly humiliates people living on the lands it has seized, and then responds to criticism by crying ‘antisemitism,’ it creates the impression that these are not merely Israeli actions—but Jewish ones. That the occupation is not Israeli, but Jewish. And if you take issue with that, it must be because you don’t like Jews.”

To help distinguish legitimate criticism from antisemitism, the intergovernmental organization IHRA (International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance), of which Slovenia is a member, adopted a non-legally binding working definition of antisemitism in 2016. It states:

“Antisemitism is a certain perception of Jews, which may be expressed as hatred toward Jews. Rhetorical and physical manifestations of antisemitism are directed toward Jewish or non-Jewish individuals and/or their property, toward Jewish community institutions and religious facilities.”

Because the definition is quite broad, it is accompanied by examples meant to help identify antisemitism in various contexts. One of the first lines reads:

“Manifestations might include the targeting of the state of Israel, conceived as a Jewish collectivity. However, criticism of Israel similar to that leveled against any other country cannot be regarded as antisemitic.”

This is an important distinction. If Israel is criticized by the same standards as any other country, it is not antisemitism. In this light, one must evaluate whether the accusations raised in the open letter to the Slovenian president were justified.

The IHRA also sets limits for criticism of Israel. For instance, denying the Jewish people's right to self-determination—such as by claiming that the existence of the state of Israel is a racist endeavor—is considered antisemitism. IHRA also considers comparisons between Israeli policy and that of the Nazis as going beyond acceptable critique.

The working definition has sparked reactions, including criticism. The Council of Europe’s Commission against Racism and Intolerance (ECRI) issued an opinion in December 2020, welcoming the definition as a tool for better understanding antisemitism, but also warning:

“Any attempts to misuse the working definition and its examples to silence or stigmatize as antisemitic legitimate criticism of Israel and Israeli policy—especially toward the Palestinian people and in the context of Israeli occupation of Palestinian territories—would undermine the fight against antisemitism and should be rejected.”

In any case, antisemitism is widespread and growing—in Europe and globally. Including in Slovenia. Therefore, the attention paid to us by the Simon Wiesenthal Center is certainly welcome. Perhaps, however, it could be broadened slightly, because alleged antisemitism in the context of criticism of Israeli policy is just one facet of the issue.

There is also persistent, traditional hatred of Jews and Judaism—well-known in Europe for centuries and culminating in the Holocaust—which continues to exist, despite ritual invocations of “never again” by politicians once or twice a year during wreath-laying ceremonies for the six million Jews murdered by the Nazis.

That’s why the Simon Wiesenthal Center is right to remain vigilant against neo-Nazism. In a future letter to Slovenian authorities, they might also address, for instance, the government granting “socially beneficial organization” status to an association whose members underscore their “traditional and patriotic” values with Hindu ornaments. But antisemitism in society doesn’t only manifest through explicit tattoos—it also surfaces through more subtle and complex discourses, conspiracy theories, and patterns of thought.

The IHRA’s list of examples can help identify these. Antisemitism includes lies, dehumanization, demonization, or stereotypical accusations—about Jews or Jewish influence as a community—which manifest in myths about global Jewish conspiracies or Jews controlling the media, economy, government, or other social institutions.

A real-world illustration: an interview with Laura Towler, a British antisemite and white supremacist, published in Slovenia’s Demokracija weekly in September 2020 and later shared by the SDS party website. Towler, deputy director of the group Patriotic Alternative, complained that “Jews dominate important positions in government and media, through which they advocate for open borders.”

There are also frequent attacks on individuals of Jewish background, involving explicit or implicit antisemitic messages. Here’s one from Twitter, written by a former judge at the European Court of Human Rights—still highly regarded in some circles of Slovenian politics:

“If we know that Josip Ribičič (Fisher) was a Jew from Trieste, then the cause of the psychopathic cruelty of the post-war massacres in Slovenia is obvious. If Kučan’s grandfather was a rabbi in Prekmurje, then the link with the psychopath Soros is clear.”

Sometimes such statements, like the one above, mention Jews directly. Other times they rely on stereotypes, insinuations, and caricatures—like the infamous image of puppeteers with hooked noses—leaving little doubt as to the target. Either way, they trigger deep-seated prejudices and hostility in parts of the population.

Such discourse is so common in Slovenia that we’ve grown used to it and barely react. Still, the demonization of George Soros—a staple of a certain Slovenian political folklore—has long been recognized as antisemitic in tone. The same goes for the popular conspiracy theory of “cultural Marxism,” which recently even appeared in a parliamentary interpellation.

God forbid I suggest that everyone who eagerly spreads such problematic rhetoric is a die-hard antisemite. With a generous dose of goodwill, I can accept that many simply don’t realize what they’re saying or supporting. That’s why I believe it’s important to consistently and clearly call them out whenever they cross the line of what is decent and acceptable in a democratic society.

Since we’re clearly not doing a great job of this ourselves—and have become so accustomed to such discourse that we barely notice it anymore—perhaps we really do need some external help.

That’s why I welcome future letters from the Simon Wiesenthal Center. Hopefully with a broader view of how antisemitism manifests in Slovenia—to alert us, and help us confront ideologies that have already brought so much suffering to the world.

Until we’re capable of doing it ourselves. Clearly, we still have a long way to go.