We all know that Jewish life on many North American and European college campuses today has become a living hell: Jewish students are lambasted on all sides for affiliating proudly with the Jewish people and with its revived, historic homeland, the State of Israel. This predicament, although more severe than ever, is not a new one.
I furiously scribbled the following essay in the space of a single evening and night in the Fall of 1990 while attending graduate school at Columbia University, and I re-issue it here in the hope that it may furnish succor — and throw up a challenge — to our young comrades in arms battling it out on the front lines from Berkeley to Brown.
The starting point of the essay involved a lecture delivered on the Columbia campus by a professor of African studies to whom a number of anti-Semitic slurs had been attributed. The piece pulls no punches and will unquestionably anger some readers, but hey: I’m used to that…
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Last Monday night Leonard Jeffries came to Columbia, and I went to hear him speak. Seldom have I experienced such a welling-up of nausea, such an onslaught of disgust, such a feeling of helplessness in the face of unbounded ignorance, such a feeling of hopelessness for the predicament of my people, as I did that night. Yet strange to say, all those gut-wrenching, heart-searing emotions converged upon me before the esteemed professor began his demagogic discourse, indeed, before I even entered Ferris Booth Hall. For it was there, standing in line on that building’s patio, that I had the misfortune to witness one of the most saddening and despair-inducing spectacles I have seen in a good while.
There on the grass opposite were my fellow Jews, pleading with the crowd to understand that hating Jews is bad, and that (even worse) it has “no place in multiculturalism.” They were there “to express our anger, and our fear” (our fear!). As I listened to these members of my supposedly proud family begging the gentiles (who for the most part ignored them, busy chatting away amiably enough): “We appeal to you, look into our faces, see our pain,” my revulsion soared to unprecedented heights; as I watched these representatives of my supposedly creative community standing silently (!) behind a fence (!!) holding up signs rehearsing the same old useless platitudes, I felt ashamed; and when I heard the pathetically comical “dialogue” between one group of retreating Jews half-heartedly crying, “We want Jeffries fired!” (quite the maximalists, aren’t we?) and another group frenziedly hushing them (no doubt the chant was deemed inconducive to the all important “image” the second group was so “responsibly” and “moderately” seeking to evoke — after all, the “Spectator” might get the wrong idea!) — when my ears caught this finale of idiocy, which produced its share of chuckles and smirks from those standing in line, I confess that I bowed my head and thanked the Lord that next year I will live in Jerusalem forever, and never again have to subject myself to the flagrant manifestations of the ever-new lows to which some diaspora Jews will descend.