As a former diplomat and, before that, a tour guide, and as the daughter of Holocaust survivors, I struggle to decide what troubles me most about harassment against Christian institutions, clergy, and symbols here in Israel: the damage to tourism? The harm to foreign relations? Or the betrayal of our own historical memory as a persecuted and humiliated minority, and the moral imperative not to treat others in the same way?
Many Jews in Israel, possibly most of them, grew up with a family story about persecution in the Diaspora. The Holocaust was the ultimate horror, but even aside from it, and without pogroms, the Inquisition, or expulsions, there was no shortage of daily humiliations: being forced off the sidewalk, wearing distinctive clothing, having skullcaps torn off, and beards cut.
Lacking the power to resist, we could spit (secretly) at a church, whisper insults (secretly) about a priest, and pride ourselves (secretly) on our moral superiority over those who wielded physical force, while we focused on spirit, ethics, and learning.
Part of that learning is the biblical commandment, frequently repeated in the Torah, to remember that we were strangers in the land of Egypt, which was first mentioned near the giving of the Torah itself. We are warned that when we ourselves possess power, we must not forget our suffering as a minority and act accordingly.
A Jew who harms Christian institutions, clergy, or symbols violates not only a civic norm but also a supreme moral and religious principle. Moreover, it is doubtful that the authorities are doing enough to combat the phenomenon through education and enforcement, thereby weakening Israel’s moral standing when demanding action against attacks on Jews and Jewish institutions abroad.
The damage it will do
Christianity is the world’s largest religion. In many countries, including Western democracies, Christians constitute the majority, and these incidents generate negative international attention. Israeli diplomats are already facing enormous challenges these days, and this indefensible phenomenon only makes their work harder.
The damage is also economic. In “normal” years, more than half of the tourists visiting Israel are Christians. They provide direct employment to tens of thousands of people and indirectly support hundreds of thousands more.
Reports of harassment will influence decisions about whether to visit; hostility will discourage repeat visits, while a positive experience affects not only the tourist but also their wider community back home.
Some may ask: What about history, about the suffering inflicted upon us under the inspiration and leadership of churches, supposedly as punishment for what was done to Jesus two thousand years ago? This argument is not foreign to me.
My late father devoted his final years to writing a book about Christianity and the Holocaust of Hungarian Jewry. Following extensive research, he concluded that the widespread collaboration of locals with the Nazis was at least partly rooted in what they had heard regularly in churches.
It is doubtful that changes in the Church’s attitude toward Jews and Judaism can erase the vast amount of Jewish blood spilled in Christianity’s name throughout the centuries.
Those who spit at, assault, curse, or otherwise abuse Christians, and those who enable such behavior or at least do not do enough to prevent it, may believe they are avenging their ancestors.
In reality, they undermine Israel’s standing as a state governed by law, damage its foreign relations, harm tourism and the economy, and above all, reveal that they have learned nothing from being descendants of a persecuted and powerless minority.
The writer was Israel’s first ambassador to the Baltic states after the disintegration of the Soviet Union, ambassador to South Africa, and congressional liaison officer at the embassy in Washington. She is a graduate of Israel’s National Defense College.