September 27, 1999
Jews
and Sunshine by
Barbara Amiel Sept.
17, 1999. Yom Kippur, 5760/2000. --
Each year at synagogue as
we mourn for our dead, I try to understand
why the Jews have been hated with such
persistence in so many cultures over so
many centuries. Curiously, this year it
may be popular culture that sheds a bit of
light on the question. October's Vanity
Fair has an excerpt from Vatican
expert John Cornwell's forthcoming
book, Hitler's
Pope: The Secret History of Pius
XII. The book claims to have
uncovered new facts about Pius XII's
alleged anti-Semitism. The most
significant evidence cited is a letter
described as a "time bomb" lying in the
Vatican archives. That letter was written
from Munich by papal nuncio Eugenio
Pacelli (later Pius XII, 1939-1958) to
the Vatican. It was 1919 and Germany was
in chaos. The elected social democrats
were trying to repel Marxist
revolutionaries fighting to proclaim a
Soviet republic. Pacelli's letter
describes the scene at the palace in
Munich taken over by revolutionaries under
their leader Eugen Levien. "The
confusion," he writes, "totally
chaotic, the filth completely
nauseating ... the building, once the
home of a king, resounding with
screams, vile language, profanities ...
a gang of young women, of dubious
appearance, Jews, like all the rest of
them, hanging around in all the offices
with provocative demeanour and
suggestive smiles. The boss of this
female gang was Levien's mistress, a
young Russian woman, a Jew and, a
divorcée, who was in
charge." This quote is cited as proof of the
future pope's anti-Semitism. But while
there are grave questions to be answered
about Pius XII's silence during the Second
World War, I can't see how this 1919
letter constitutes anti-Semitism. As an
observation, the letter was at worst an
exaggeration. If he had written "Jews,
like a disproportionate number of them,"
he would have been quite accurate. Jews
feature in wildly disproportionate numbers
among communists and revolutionaries. Most institutions, past and present,
wrongly believe that they can support,
tolerate or use one evil to fight another.
I suspect that in the 1930s, Pius XII saw
communism as a greater threat than Nazism
and acted accordingly. It's a separate
matter that one would have hoped that the
church, being in the business of morality,
might have been an exception to the rule.
But the germane point here is that Jews
were not only seen as Christ killers but
as the assassins of democracy. Indeed, we
were at the leading edge of communist
totalitarianism, one of the most
murderous movements of the 20th
century. It's a different matter that we were
also at the leading edge of those fighting
it. A quite remarkable insight into this
phenomenon took place in last week's
Toronto International Film Festival. I
cannot speak highly enough of the
importance of the film
Sunshine,
the story of three generations of
Hungarian Jews that premièred at
the festival. This is a film of incredible
ambition, tackling major themes about the
evolution of good instincts into
totalitarianism and -- for the first time
-- the similarities between Nazism and
communism. Here is the tale almost every
Jewish family knows in one form or
another: the hardworking grandfather
begets the liberal son who begets the
revolutionary grandson. The film covers
1890 to 1990 and though it could have been
told through the eyes of a gentile family,
it seems to me best to do it through a
Jewish family. Because in some very
curious ways, Hungarian Jews, like Jews
throughout time, have been
disproportionately represented at the edge
of some of the finest and nastiest trends
of humanity. In my
lifetime, with the obvious exception of
Nazism, it's hard to think of any
political or artistic movement in which
Jews have not been statistically
over-represented -- from the 1960s
Weathermen to more positive areas of
public policy and the arts. It was difficult to be a member of the
Black Panthers, but Jewish support of them
gave us Radical Chic. There is no greater
influence on popular culture than
Hollywood, and Hollywood is almost
synonymous with Jewish overrepresentation.
None of this bad, though anti-Semites try
to make hay out of it and the politically
correct try to deny it. Post-war Jews
continue to be drawn to illiberalism -- to
the totalitarian instincts of the
politically correct eco-feminists and
their allies. Similarly, they are drawn to
the finest manifestations of jurisprudence
and philosophy. If gentiles tend to keep
their heads down and make money, Jews seem
to have the instincts of moths to a flame
-- a fatal attraction to the limelight of
the leading edge. And in the past 100
years, those notions have included as much
bad as good. Which may be why we are so
often disliked. The popular explanation is that our
attraction to ideas is because we are a
people of the book. I think it is because
outside Israel we live with the feeling,
perhaps subconscious, that we are guests
in the countries we inhabit. As a group
without a franchise, we have a basic
interest in a just and equitable society
and so latch on to any idea from
liberalism to communism that promises
justice. Justice is in our
self-interest. Perhaps the world will come to see that
if we are so often at the leading edge of
bad ideas, we are also among the greatest
victims of those same ideas. I don't know.
All I can do is pray and ask God to
inscribe us all in his book with
understanding and patience. [Related
story: Taki
on Vanity Fair and Pius
XII] |