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Antisemitism

Here There Is No Why

Antisemitism is presented as a historical threat that shapes Jewish ideas of refuge and belonging, but the novel does not treat every conflict involving Jews or the State of Israel as the same phenomenon. It sets remembered persecution beside political argument and, in Kamal’s account, shows how a family’s dispossession can be invoked to justify violence against Jews as a group. These strands make the term part of the book’s struggle over memory, responsibility, and the danger of reducing people to collective labels.

Persecution and the promise of refuge

In Chaim Lerner’s science-fiction story “Blue Jews,” the Jewish inhabitants of a distant planet have fled a renewed outbreak of fascist antisemitism. Their arrival at a habitable world gives the premise of escape a physical destination: they are trying to leave a world where Jews are again under threat. For the young narrator, the story’s imaginative setting also recalls the appeal of the State of Israel to Jewish children after the Holocaust.

Zehava Lerner remembers reaching the State of Israel in 1953, eight years after the Holocaust. As a teenager from Kansas, she had imagined it as a place beyond the familiar American landscape and, more urgently, as shelter from a world she believed hostile to Jews. She recalls that she and others also feared that Arab countries were trying to destroy them. Her memory presents refuge not as an abstract ideal but as a response to a recent catastrophe and a perceived continuing danger.

The story of the blue-skinned visitors complicates the comfort of communal recognition. They speak Hebrew, describe enslavement and liberation, and pray with such fervor that secular Jews take up ritual and a religious revival spreads. The visitors then disappear with essential equipment and the community’s handwritten Torah scroll; the promised fellow Jews prove to be impostors. The ensuing disillusionment turns toward cynicism and suicide. The episode links the desire for Jewish solidarity to the possibility of betrayal, without suggesting that the original need for refuge was itself misplaced.

Historical memory and the burden of witnessing

After Chaim’s death, the American novelist Bella Shmozic describes him as the six million and first Holocaust victim and places him among writers whose work bore witness to the Holocaust. Her interpretation draws on one of his stories: a blind man suddenly gains sight, is overwhelmed by what he sees, and dies of a tumor. Shmozic reads the story as an allegory of the Holocaust writer’s burden of confronting horror and making it into a coherent account. This interpretation connects the inheritance of persecution to the demands of witnessing, though it remains Shmozic’s reading rather than a confirmed explanation of Chaim’s death.

The novel thereby distinguishes the continuing memory of antisemitism and the Holocaust from any single, settled account of what that history means. Chaim’s work, and the claims made about it after his death, are contested precisely because Jewish historical suffering can be invoked to explain identity, artistic responsibility, and political choices in different ways.

Dispossession and collective retaliation

In an interview, Kamal traces his planned attack to his grandparents’ displacement during the Nakba. He says that his grandfather had been studying medicine in Cairo but, after becoming a refugee, could not continue his education; he later worked as a janitor at a Christian school in Ramallah and died young. Kamal presents his attempt to attack a Jewish target in Hod HaSharon as revenge for that family history. His account gives the grievance a specific chain of consequences—expulsion, interrupted education, and loss—rather than leaving it as a slogan.

But the account also exposes a consequential turn: Kamal’s intention is to kill Jews, not to address only those responsible for his grandparents’ displacement. The novel places that collective targeting alongside the history he recounts, allowing the reader to see both the force of remembered loss and the danger of converting it into hostility toward an entire people. Kamal later insists that suicide is cowardly, cruel to one’s family, and wrong. That condemnation of suicide does not undo his stated plan to take Jewish lives; it instead separates his judgment of the act of suicide from the violence he had intended to commit.

Political accusation and responsibility

Yoav Lerner attacks American journalists for inaccurate reporting and argues that the media have been biased against the State of Israel. At the same time, he says that he shares many of those journalists’ political views, including the view that Israel has become an aggressor and at times a cruel one. His stated objection is to what he regards as journalistic ignorance and carelessness, not to criticism of Israeli policy as such. That distinction prevents the novel’s account of media bias from making every critical judgment about Israel equivalent to antisemitism.

Yoav’s account of the Sabra and Chatila massacres further complicates the argument. His unit was stationed nearby; soldiers heard gunfire, commands, and screams, and learned the next day that hundreds of civilians had been killed. He rejects reports that Israeli forces themselves perpetrated the massacres, and disputes the phrasing that Israel simply allowed them to happen. Yet he also acknowledges that Israeli forces did not intervene before the killings and describes them as bystanders. The narrative holds these claims together: a false or careless accusation is not the same as an accurate account of responsibility, and correcting the former does not erase the latter.

Across these episodes, antisemitism is not merely a label applied to any hostile political speech. It names the danger of treating Jews as a collective target, while the novel also insists on examining the particular histories, decisions, and responsibilities entangled with Jewish life and Israeli power. Its recurring contrast is between the real need to remember persecution and the distortions that arise when memory is made to settle every political dispute in advance.