‘Our kids are on the front line in the war of words… how should we arm them?’

A friend’s daughter was at a university party recently when a fellow student tried to guess her identity. When he’d run through every Mediterranean option, she revealed she was Jewish, at which point the floodgates opened and a torrent of abuse was unleashed – spanning the classics, from nose jibes to accusations of murder. She stayed long enough to stand up for herself – then reported him to the university and CST.

Another girl I’ve been in touch with, studying at a UK university, received so much hate from fellow students for wearing a yellow ribbon she was told she’d be “thrown out the window” if she dared open her mouth in lectures. Security had to be alerted when she entered the building and members of JSoc accompanied her to lectures. But she kept her yellow ribbon on.

A girl at a UK university received so much hate from fellow students for wearing a yellow ribbon she was told she’d be thrown out the window

Another friend’s son was away with school on a Duke of Edinburgh expedition when his fellow campers started talking about Israel committing genocide. He wanted to challenge the narrative, but was scared of being ostracised. He decided to take on the debate.

This is a small snapshot of what life is like for some Jewish teens and students, right now. Of course not everyone’s experiences are disturbing, but there’s no doubt our youth are on the front line in the war of words and are often the ones leading our defence. No one should ever have to suffer the level of intimidation these university students have experienced, and it is a sad reality of the world right now that they are. But should it also be the reality of a schoolboy on a Duke Of Edinburgh trip too? That was the mother’s question to the school. What should he do in that situation? And should he have been in it in the first place?

The response, I believe, was fair. Were the accusations made in his direction because he is Jewish – or was it just another topic chewed over by a lively bunch of boys over the course of an evening? The former is preying on weakness and tantamount to bullying. The latter is not, and although the school encourages the children to leave divisive politics at the door, they cannot ban topics that are deemed fair game on news channels and in the political arena, unless they are used to intimidate.

The question, as a parent, is whether you encourage your child to lean in at those moments – to be the one in the tent among friends to pipe up with the unpopular view or to argue back with a racist stranger at a party. I can’t help applauding those who do but of course there are times when a child’s own safety or mental wellbeing must take precedence. With my own kids, I have always said it’s for them to judge, but I sure as hell let them know I’m proud of them when they’ve had the confidence to speak up at difficult moments.

That confidence also comes down to knowledge, which is ironically where we are perhaps weak as a community. For a bunch obsessed with education, we’re lagging behind when it comes to our kids’ on Israel. Realising this recently, I’ve used opinion pieces I’ve written for the Telegraph as my kids’ unofficial text book. I-gnite.org run courses to help students (and their parents) arm themselves with information to counteract the misinformation with which they’re bombarded. And Jewishunpacked is a great online resource. They may come out of school knowing about the Cuban Missile Crisis and the Industrial Revolution, but Jewish kids now need 20th-century Israeli history at their fingertips.

But the history, in a sense, is the easy part. The present is more complicated. Many a lively Friday night over the past 20 months has revealed that there’s not one homogenous view on Israeli politics within our community. Why should there be? In Israel, more than anywhere, no two views from two Jews are the same.

But one thing we never disagree on over chopped liver is our core principle that Israel has the right to exist. This is something that forms the unquestioned basis among ourselves. But it is by no means a given outside of the Jewish community, and that makes debate much more problematic. So many of the voices who loudly oppose Israel’s actions are so vicious and sinister, that saying anything to bolster their narrative feels tantamount to Jewish suicide.

The Free Palestine movement has picked up well-meaning supporters along the way, but its engine, which was churning well before October 7, and which instantly moved up a gear on October 8, has something far more malign at its heart

One only needs to look at Gary Lineker’s “blunder” that triggered his BBC departure to get a glimpse of the forces at play. Lineker is a savvy media operator – perhaps the savviest there is – but even he seemingly does not realise the malevolent nature behind what is influencing and informing him on social media. He may genuinely have missed the rat that represented Jewish people on the recent controversial post he shared on Gaza, but it’s not surprising the rat was there. The Free Palestine movement has picked up well-meaning supporters along the way, but its engine, which was churning well before October 7, and instantly moved up a gear post-massacre on October 8, has something far more malign at its heart. We Jews have long understood that. Others do not. Lineker retweeting a rat by mistake being the perfect illustration.

And it’s that deeply sinister element of opposition to Israel that makes it hard to have honest debate. Emboldening this movement will come back to bite us. It is a movement that’s meant some Jewish students have been so intimidated at certain British university campuses that they’ve been forced to come home. Too close for comfort, and even scarier for it, it has led to Jewish children being attacked on our streets. But on the other hand, should we stay silent if criticism at certain times has felt valid, especially if it seems that Israel – and by default, the entire global Jewish population – is being redefined in the eyes of the world? Is that irresponsible too?

In the past, I have always felt that it is not my place as a British Jew to take a stance on Israeli politics. I don’t live with Islamic fundamentalists across my borders or have to send my children to the army to protect against the constant threat – as those living there do. And I’m not the one having to run into bomb shelters when that fight flares up. I realise I see Israeli politics through the prism of my comfortable life in London and that my views are skewed by what makes Israel look good to the world, by what makes it easier for my children when they have conversations with friends at school. That may well be different to what Israel needs to do to survive – and survive we need it to.

In truth, whatever our views on this government, we can take inspiration from our kids to lean in when our voices are needed – whether we are surrounded by friends, like that school boy sleeping in a tent, or faced with a stranger, as my friend’s daughter was at a university party. In reality, it’s those fundamentals that we take for granted over chopped liver that we really need to stick up for.

Naomi Greenaway is the Deputy Head of Long Reads at the Telegraph

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