On Tree of Life anniversary, US Jews say they feel more isolated
| New York
Jordan Golin reflects on his community’s experiences five years ago today, when the Tree of Life synagogue endured the deadliest act of antisemitic violence in U.S. history. Amid the grief and horror, he also remembers feeling strangely reassured.
“When the attack happened five years ago, it was obviously a very painful, very challenging experience, but it was also a very complex experience,” says Mr. Golin, head of Jewish Family and Community Services Pittsburgh. His organization was among the first responders to synagogue members’ emotional needs after a white nationalist gunman killed 11 worshippers.
Why We Wrote This
A story focused onFive years ago today, the Tree of Life synagogue shooting became the worst antisemitic attack in U.S. history. In Pittsburgh, Jews say they are lonelier and more afraid now – a shift from the way the community rallied around them in 2018.
Muslim groups helped raise almost $200,000 to help the synagogue bury its dead while offering to stand guard. Christian congregations offered invitations to their churches and provided gifts and support.
“They could relate to the horror of having an act like that taking place in a sanctuary, in a holy, supposedly safe setting,” he says. “Knowing that, you know, the larger community is there for us ... there was something very healing about that.”
This October, however, Mr. Golin says they feel a sense of isolation and even fear after the Hamas attack on Israeli civilians and Israel’s bombing of Gaza – as well as surprise at the very different reactions of neighbors who had been so supportive.
Jordan Golin reflects on his community’s experiences five years ago today, when the Tree of Life synagogue in Pittsburgh endured the deadliest act of antisemitic violence in U.S. history. Amid the grief and horror, he also remembers feeling strangely reassured.
“When the attack happened five years ago, it was obviously a very painful, very challenging experience, but it was also a very complex experience,” says Mr. Golin, president and CEO of Jewish Family and Community Services Pittsburgh. His organization was among the first responders to synagogue members’ emotional needs after a white nationalist gunman killed 11 worshippers and wounded several others, including a number of Holocaust survivors. The gunman was found guilty this summer of 63 counts, including hate crimes, and the jury in August recommended he be sentenced to death.
“So there was something that was, in an odd way, kind of reassuring by the outpouring of support that we received,” he says. Muslim groups, especially, helped raise almost $200,000 to help the synagogue bury its dead while offering to stand guard at the place of worship. Christian congregations reached out and offered invitations to their churches while providing gifts and support.
Why We Wrote This
A story focused onFive years ago today, the Tree of Life synagogue shooting became the worst antisemitic attack in U.S. history. In Pittsburgh, Jews say they are lonelier and more afraid now – a shift from the way the community rallied around them in 2018.
“They could relate to the horror of having an act like that taking place in a sanctuary, in a holy, supposedly safe setting,” he says. “Knowing that, you know, the larger community is there for us, just thinking about us, is concerned for us through something that was very devastating – there was something very healing about that.”
This October, however, Mr. Golin and others say they feel a sense of isolation and even fear after the Hamas attack on Israeli civilians and Israel’s continued bombing of Gaza – as well as surprise at the very different reactions of neighbors who had been so supportive.
As in much of the country, there have been instances of antisemitic graffiti on school properties in Pittsburgh. According to the Anti-Defamation League, the number of antisemtic incidents since Oct. 7 has spiked 388%, with 312 incidents documented through Oct. 23, more than half linked to the war in Gaza.
At the same time, too, the Council on American-Islamic Relations reports that it has also seen a spike in anti-Muslim incidents, saying it has received 774 complaints since Oct. 7, the most in three weeks since 2015.
“There’s a very different vibe going on now,” says Mr. Golin. “Political beliefs, political ideology, foreign policy shouldn’t impact the behavior between neighbors, but it kind of does. Conversations are very difficult because it’s hard to keep separate the politics of the Middle East with the lives of American Jews. And so that sense of, where are all the other neighbors who told us that they were there for us? Where are they now? Especially just as we’re coming up to the fifth commemoration, that’s especially hard for many members of the community.”
The climate on college campuses also remains tense as students rally in competing protests and demonstrations in support of Hamas or Israel, each condemning the other as holding murderous views.
On Wednesday, during a citywide student walkout in support of Palestinians, a group of Jewish students at Cooper Union college in New York took refuge in the library after a confrontation with pro-Palestinian protesters. Custodians locked the doors as protesters marched through the halls singing “Free Palestine” and banging on the library doors, alarming the Jewish students inside.
Even before the Hamas attack, nearly 60% of Jewish college students said they’ve witnessed or experienced antisemitism this year, according to an Ipsos survey in September.
Among professors, the war in Gaza has had a deep impact on personal and professional relationships, says Aram Sinnreich, chair of the communications studies division at American University in Washington.
Dr. Sinnreich condemns both the Hamas attack against civilians and the Israeli bombing of civilians as “war crimes.” But such a position has put him and others in the crosshairs of those on both sides who would justify the violence and resulting casualties.
“There is a widespread sense of betrayal among Jewish and Muslim leftists who believed themselves to be in the company of sensitive and sympathetic friends and colleagues, and found out only too late that they were viewed through this flattening and totalizing lens that equated them with the horrific actions of their ostensible tribe,” he says.
American University, too, has had anti-Muslim and antisemitic incidents on campus over the past few weeks. A Palestinian staff member received a threatening and hate-filled note, the university reported. In a residential hall, students found swastikas and a Nazi slogan graffitied on two room doors and in a bathroom.
“I and every other diasporic Jew that I know feels personally threatened when we see that kind of vandalism and when we see people nakedly espousing antisemitic ideas and language and imagery in public,” Dr. Sinnreich says. “And that’s its function, to knock us back on our heels and put us into a defensive posture.”
Even in academia, he says, people do not disambiguate being a Jewish scholar from being a supporter of Israel, or a Muslim scholar from a supporter of Hamas. This disrupts a stand against what he calls “the genocidal assaults on thousands of innocent civilians” on both sides.
“It is an ongoing emotional balancing act to try to hold that truth in our hearts while simultaneously seeing ourselves treated as scapegoats and potential collateral damage by [those] who fail to recognize our humanity,” he says.
Last week, however, groups of Jewish and Muslim high school students in New York decided to try a different way.
Members of the student-led Muslim Student Association and Jewish Student Union at Millennium Brooklyn High School (MBHS) had both been deeply affected by the unfolding tragedies in Gaza and Israel, some having family members in both areas.
So they got together with a few faculty members and a counselor and hashed out a statement focusing on their common lives.
“During this time, we understand that hatred and discrimination may be on the rise,” their joint “Solidarity Message” reads. “Our two clubs strive to uphold the most important values of MBHS and never condone the spread of anti-semitism, Islamophobia, or discrimination of any kind. Instead, we aim to emphasize the importance of humanity.
“We urge all students of MBHS to be mindful of their words and actions, and to ensure that they do not incite fear or make other students feel targeted or unsafe,” the statement continued. “Collectively, we have the social obligation to be sensitive to the experiences of others, and we should all understand that for many of us in the community, this is personal.”
