“Zionism equals terrorism,” the letters on the graffitied wall in downtown Rome boldly proclaimed. “All Zionists are bastards,” read another. Stickers of Palestinian flags and portrayals of Israeli soldiers holding flags dripping with blood are just a few examples of the antisemitic environment that a group of Jewish and pro-Israel students from across Canada stumbled upon as we entered the ancient city of Rome this past June. We had come to learn Jewish history in Italy and build meaningful bonds as students, planning our strategy for the upcoming year to fight antisemitism and stand up for Israel on our respective campuses.
Our presence in Italy was altogether unexpected. Originally, our trip’s destination was Israel, but the commencement of the 12 Day War caused our plans to take a dramatic turn. Jewish history in Italy cannot compare to Israel, but it served as a solid second choice with sites like Titus’ Arch, the Great Synagogue of Rome, and the Jewish Ghettos—which was the reality for most of Jewish existence in Italy. A few students in our group were forced to remain in Israel, hiding out in bomb shelters, unable to leave the country to join our Italy cohort.
University campuses have become frontlines in the battle against antisemitic hate. Many students who took part in our excursion to Italy faced difficult situations and open hatred on their own campuses—amongst their peers and even from professors. Many have been targeted online and in classrooms, ridiculed for their identity and their belief in Israel’s right to exist. Over the course of the school year, these attacks are degrading and discouraging. The resolve to stand together as students, to find resilience through common ground, brought our diverse group—students from different backgrounds and walks of life—together with unity and resolve.
In an environment outside of Israel—which was currently under heavy bombardment—and far from our university campuses, I expected to feel distant from Jew-hatred. One would have expected the streets of Rome, from a tourist perspective, to feel historic and disconnected from the current conflict. But Rome proved to be anything but neutral or accepting.
We witnessed some antisemitic graffiti and acts of Jew-hate in Florence, Venice, and Verona, but nothing could have prepared me for the barrage of Jewish hatred we encountered in Rome—the heart of ancient civilization. In some areas, entire walls were coated with slogans, many not merely masking themselves as pro-Palestinian, but unashamedly proclaiming Jew-hatred.
To be a tourist and face hatred against your very identity in a foreign land is a bitter state of affairs for Jewish students. Walking the streets as a tourist, yet confronted with hate that calls out against you and your country’s right to exist, is a shocking reality that Jews today are facing in many parts of the world.
One student explained that he had witnessed more antisemitic graffiti, stickers, and swastikas in Italy than he had in Canada and the U.S. combined, declaring that it was “next level,” even compared to known hotspots of Jew-hatred. He shared the emotional toll it took on him: “I personally went through some very difficult emotions. People heckled me with disgusting antisemitic comments. I was told things like ‘You are the problem in the world’ and ‘You need to die.'”
One night in Florence, someone spat at him as they passed by after seeing his kippah. Another day, a group of people attempted to physically rip the Magen David necklace from his neck. Why the hate against Canadian Jews even in a foreign country?
On a building in the city of Rome, I witnessed shocking graffiti in which Jesus Christ, garbed in a Palestinian keffiyeh, is being crucified on the cross. Standing by, perpetrating his death, two Israeli soldiers are clearly depicted.
An overwhelming sense of helplessness weighed heavily on my heart as I witnessed the antisemitism in Rome alongside my Jewish friends. A few fellow students and I removed numerous hate-filled posters, but many of the messages were deeply embedded — scrawled on walls or plastered in ways that couldn’t be easily removed.
No comments:
Post a Comment