20 December 2023. Less than a week to go till Christmas.

Just under a week since the Jewish festival of Chanukkah ended.  

And over two months since the October 7 massacre by Hamas in Israel, setting off an intense war between Israel and Gaza.

It’s all a bit depressing, bittersweet and well… unsettling, isn’t it?

It’s a special, reflective and sacred time of year for many, yet it’s all come together in a horrible blur of hate…

Speaking to a Jewish friend yesterday, I discovered how in a predominantly Jewish area of London, annual Chanukkah celebrations have been somewhat “dimmed” this year.

Muswell Hill in North London… The Chanukkiah (9-candle menorah for Chanukkah)was lit, prayers were said and greetings of solidarity shared.

And then… it was taken away. Leaving just a solitary Christmas tree.

The reason? I can only imagine fear or vandalism since the offset of the recent round of conflict in the Middle East.

Right now, the Jewish Community are scared. And quite understandably.

Antisemitism is increasingly on the rise, nationally and globally.

Here in the UK, the Community Security Trust (CST) recorded 600 anti-Jewish hate incidents in the UK between 7 and 24 October (2023). This is the highest ever total reported to CST across a 17-day period.

Along with recent spikes in hate crime, when Chanukkah arrived (the often misunderstood and appropriated Jewish festival unrelated to Christmas), we then saw the desecration of chanukkiyot.

In North London for example, a publicly-erected chanukkiah was vandalised. This was merely days after it has been plastered with a “Free Palestine” sticker and one its bulbs smashed.

Given the climate of antisemitism, it’s more than understandable if Jewish leaders decided to remove the chanukkiah after the gathering to prevent abuse.

Yet, I couldn’t help feel that if the chanukkiah had been removed for such reasons, that this wasn’t the way forward. Or at least, it’s not a long-term solution to antisemitism.

Whilst distressing as it is to see desecrated holy sites and symbols, greater protection is needed in the short term, along with education and ardent strides to strengthen community cohesion in the long-term.

To my mind, this decision gave in to hate – showing that Jews can and will be invisible. When instead, we must foster an environment where the Jewish community feel confident, safe and proud in their identity. Like everyone should.  

Speaking to my Jewish friend who’d attended, the feeling was mutual:

“I felt such dismay and sadness… It’s a crying shame that the Jewish community has to resort to hiding the Menorah for fear of antisemitic vandalism. 

It is symbolic of the feeling that we have to be invisible in order to survive. That violence and the mob can call the shots in this way, is not just bad for Jews it’s clearly bad for our society as a whole.”

Compare this to other cities, and the message really hit home.

Earlier in December, I travelled to Berlin for a workshop on antisemitism. It was my second visit in recent months related to antisemitism, a period which has led to a lot of learning, revelations and reflection.

In Berlin, my seasonal experience was somewhat different to my friend’s in Muswell Hill.

In the German capital, I visited the chanukkiah located at the Brandenburg Gate.

In this historic square, the chanukkiah stood bright and proud, quite tragically yet beautifully next to the gate (and a nearby Christmas tree).

And this is no ordinary piece of historic architecture, it was once a symbol of the era of Nazi Germany (albeit built much earlier).  

I didn’t have the words to express the bittersweet juxtaposition of the two images.

Jewish pride in a nation that saw the death of six million Jews (amongst others) not even a century ago… A tragic past, yet a future of efforts to embrace the Jewish world and stand against hate.

Things were and are moving forward (although antisemitism is a problem in Germany, just as in the UK and globally).

Back in the UK, communities are coming together. Yet, the chanukkiah in Muswell Hill was out of sight, whilst the Christmas tree remained. Life seemingly carried on.

But it hasn’t… Over in Trafalgar Square, the annual erection of the chanukkiah had taken place, but celebrations were markedly quieter (I discussed this with the same Jewish friend).

This also followed on the U-turn of the decision by Havering Council this year to not display Chanukkah candles outside its town hall in an attempt to avoid “inflaming community tensions”.  

With this decision reversed following a united outburst of criticism from Jews, Muslims and likeminded citizens, there was and is hope.

Yet, back in Muswell Hill, a single Christmas tree remained, without the chanukkiah (a visible Jewish symbol).

I couldn’t help but feel sad. Not just for this, but for the wider image: the overwhelming sense of injustice and historical persecution of the Jewish community.

All the more poignant it is as, regardless of its origins, the festive tree is a symbol of Christmas globally (although not present in all Christian traditions).

This is a faith which marks a day to celebrate the birth of Jesus – a Jewish man from Judea.

A symbol of the Christian world. A world that long persecuted the Jewish community on religious grounds in the form of anti-Judaism – medieval theologically-driven antisemitism in the Christian-Western world.

It’s worth noting that the contemporary term “antisemitism” incorporates the now wide spectrum of prejudice, including also in the Muslim world (such as Christian anti-Judaism, Islamist antisemitism, Far-Left political and neo-Nazi Far-Right ideology).

This term was born later – deriving from 19^th century references to “racial inferiority” of the Jewish people, prevalent with Nazis and neo-Nazis alike.

So, with the founding figure of Christianity (and a Prophet in Islam) a Jew himself, we’ve long seen two sides of the same coin.

One the one hand, there’s a shared history – an opportunity to embrace solidarity as members of the Abrahamic family in a multicultural, multifaith society.

Yet on the other, we’re reminded of a deep history of persecution – of lies and tropes used to “otherise” both Jews and people of other faiths (including Muslims alike).

Antisemitism: from the church to wider society

It hurts to continuously see my Jewish friends and colleagues facing abuse, simply for being Jewish.

And at this time of year, it’s all the more tragic.

Why? Because Jesus’ message (whether his existence is historically proven or not) is one of love, unity and anti-corruption. It’s NOT one of division, appropriation, replacement and conflict.

Quite honestly, what would he think if he were to look at the state of the Earth now?

A Holy Land at war. The symbols of his traditional faith removed from the public sphere. Yet (quite rightly) the symbol of Western Christianity (the tree) stands firm on our soul.

A symbol of an institution that in fact persecuted Jews for centuries exactly because they weren’t Christian.

Historically, Jews were painted as devilish and corrupt for “rejecting Christ”.

This led to the vicious blood libel myth which portrayed Jews as “bloodthirsty” heretics who sought to “replicate the holy rites of Easter at Passover with the blood of Christian children”.

Obviously complete nonsense. Yet it’s stuck – replicating itself across the political spectrum.

Otherised and rejected, the Jewish community in Europe were also denied to the right to work as they wished and to own land, turning to money-lending to earn a living.

With usury seen as a sin by the Christian Church, Jews were therefore further demonised as “greedy, powerful and dominant”.

And so grew the myths around power and money, bearing fruit to the antisemitic conspiracy theories of today (depicting Jews as communists, capitalists, leaders of the “New World Order” and everything in between).

Having recently completed several trainings in antisemitism (blogs to follow), including in the medieval Christian world, I concluded and finally understood just how embedded antisemitism is in our society.

After all, we’re a society built on Christian history – whether many recognise this fact or not. (This acknowledgment of “Cultural Christianity” is forming part of my re-embracing of my Christian heritage/identity as British-Islam convert to Islam).

Yet history is often used, forgotten and abused in the name of hate, otherisation and exclusion.

The term “Judeo-Christian” for example is often used to imply a united world in a disingenuous move against people of other faiths. It’s a buzz-word for xenophobes preaching anti-refugee and anti-Muslim hate.

It attempts to paint a picture of a historically Jewish-friendly Europe that is markedly different to the “alien” and “Eastern” faith of Islam (the last Abrahamic faith).

Well… ask a British Jew and they’ll tell you a different story. One of historical persecution within Medieval Europe, of expulsion and rejection.

And this “othering” continues today in the form of rampant antisemitism.

Of course, all three faiths originate from the Middle East. And they all share a number of key figures such as Moses, Abraham and Jesus (in various forms).

Time and time again, history is used, abused and misrepresented for one’s own gain. To build narratives, to “disprove” lived experiences and to conveniently paint “black and white” binaries of “good vs. bad”, “right and wrong” and “us vs. them”.

Well, that’s not how the world works.

We’re a diverse planet. Reality is nuanced. And experiences are unique, varied, personal and collective.

Jesus: a symbol of unity and division rolled into one

As we witness the coming of Christmas as a global community, we’re seeing a clear reminder to look forward – acknowledging the past, living with the present and working towards a better future.

Through Jesus. And I say this as a Muslim (former Christian) ally to the Jewish community.

The name in itself carries so much variance yet commonality.

Jesus, Issa, Christ, Joshua, Yeshua, Jesús…

The name comes with many translations and variations, each with their own religious and cultural connotations.

And an opportunity for unity or division…

Divine Son of God (Christian teachings), a (historically unverified) Jewish man (Judaism), a Prophet of God (Islam).

Traceable in all three Abrahamic faiths in very different ways, his teachings are presented as a narrative of love, peace and spirituality.

This was at the time starkly opposed to religious dogma – whether one believes in his teachings or even existence from both a spiritual and historical perspective.

Yet here we are… At the end of 2023 and amid a war in the Holy Land.

And again, we’re hearing that time old seasonal line “remember that Jesus was Palestinian” and “Jesus was Muslim” from the Pro-Palestinian (often portrayed as Muslim) crowd.

Well, no… Jesus wasn’t Palestinian in so many words.

Jesus was Jewish. Born in Galilee, he preached in Judea and was later crucified in Jerusalem.

This area was a Roman province (colony) under Roman rule.

Jesus of Nazareth identified as a Jewish man.

“Palestinian” simply wasn’t a word that he would have identified with or that represents his authentic person.

And similarly, neither was “Christian”.

The term “Palestinian” derives from the land of the “Philistines” – a Greek word adopted by the occupying Romans in the 2^nd century through the term “Syria Palaestina”.

Jesus’ followers were Jewish, with the term and official formation of a “Christian Church” not taking place till much later during the Roman leadership in the 3^rd century.

Crucially, whilst may sound like semantical games it’s important. Mis-appropriation of history and one’s identity isn’t the way forward to peace, unity and cohesion.

Likewise, if we look at the term “Muslim” that gets flung around Twitter…

That’s a bit more complicated.

In simple terms, a “muslim” refers to a person who “submits to the one Single God”. That’s it.

And so, if we break it down, anyone can be a “muslim”.

Yep, no Arabic, no Qur’an, nothing except a connection with God and good deeds.

A message that is repeated in the Qur’an to remind us of our moral duty.

This is crucially one of the reasons why it’s incredibly unhelpful and disingenuous to refer to Islamists as “non-Muslims”.

In the minds of extremists, they’re following scripture (not what’s often simply passed off as “cultural practice). This is regardless of whether we think their beliefs and teachings are legitimate or not.

In the “Muslim world”, Orthodox prevailing traditions however are rather prescriptive.  

In this tradition, a “Muslim” is portrayed as a person who follows the religion of “Islam”, who makes the “declaration of faith” and believes in the Qur’an and so on.

In such traditional teachings, there “one Truth” and one God, with the Prophets Moses (Musa), Abraham (Ibrahim) and Jesus (Issa) as “Muslim”.

However, as we all know, the religion of 1.9 billion followers known as “Muslims”, was not formed till centuries later. A religious intuition that certainly Jesus wouldn’t have known.

So of course, shouting “Jesus was Muslim” across Twitter, is the most unnuanced act of religious and cultural appropriation – especially in the current climate of conflict and rising hate.

Yes, he was a monotheist (a “muslim”) but Islam as a faith institution wasn’t born yet.

And “reshaping” Jesus (a Jewish teacher) amid the current climate of conflict and hate, this is not a sensitive, kind or even wise move.

We all share so much in common – and we must reflect and build on that. Whilst of course respecting the differences, variances and beliefs of others.

For whether we believe Jesus is a peaceful Jewish man from Judea, the Divine Son of God or part of wider Islamic tradition, what we should all be agreeing on is this:

The Jewish community deserve respect, representation and security.

Religious communities should stand together in solidarity

The world deserves peace (including both Israelis and Palestinians – whether Jewish, Muslim, Christian, Samaritan, Druze etc.)

So, as one of the biggest days in the Christian calendar approaches (days altering between different strands of Christianity of course – diversity again”), we therefore need to stand together against hate, in pride of diversity.

We need to acknowledge and respect the contribution of the Jewish world, educate ourselves about their collective trauma (both pre- and post-Holocaust in European and global contexts) and commit to respecting the Jewish community’s right to freedom of belief, safety and to quite simply flourish!

Likewise, the same rights that must be afforded to all people: Palestinians, Europeans, Americans, all over!

Because no matter we’re all spending (or not spending!) Christmas, we’re all human.

And humanity was exactly Jesus’ message.

So, whether you’re celebrating the Son of God, enjoying a cultural festival, making the most of a day off work or having a Chinese takeaway as you Netflix and chill (a very American-Jewish tradition at Christmas!), keep safe, keep sane and consider this as a New Year’s Resolution:

We must all commit to standing up against hate. To calling out antisemitism, anti-Muslim hate and all other forms of discrimination.

We can all reach out to neighbours, colleagues and acquaintances to check on their wellbeing, to build friendships and form alliances.

And we should all agree: we are stronger together.

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays and a Wonderful New Year to all!

Peace, salam, shalom!