When my maternal grandmother was around 7 years old, she was nearly the victim of a pogrom. It was the late 1930s. Europe was a stretched rubber band, soon to snap. My grandma was visiting family in a small Polish town. One day, the non-Jewish inhabitants wielded knives and sticks as they pursued Jews. My grandma ran, closed the blinds, hid and waited.
I’ve heard this story of the pogrom in two related contexts. First, as proof of antisemitism — even absent Nazi compulsion. Second, as part of the need for a state where Jews can be safe.
Last week, Jewish settlers conducted a pogrom of a Palestinian village named Hawara. They set fire to houses and cars. They threw stones. In one sickening video, the settlers pray with the village smoking in the background, as if their violence honors God rather than desecrating holy commandments and the rule of law alike.
