The explosion of demonstrations at college campuses has made me fearful for my fellow Jews, but as an American, it has made me red-hot angry.

I’ve been trying to make the distinction between the clearly foreign-born and the growing young followers of this unmistakably organized movement.  Each group carries its own special ignorance, both preferring rhythmic slogans to any facts at all.

The young “skulls full of mush,” as Rush Limbaugh used to call them, seem to now have their brains completely liquefying.  They can’t tell you where “the river” is or “the sea,” nor even where Israel is located.  But they’re sure, with Marxist certainty, that there is a genocide against the Palestinians going on.

Their elders in this entire undertaking supply the intellectual heft, but it is so inaccurate as to be complete nonsense.

This was obvious this week, when we heard the slogan shouted from at least one school, with a sign: “Jews go back to Poland.”

No American would shout this.  It wouldn’t occur to him.  It originates from the teachings in the Arab world that Israel was created exclusively by Jews who survived the Holocaust — which they mostly deny anyway — ignoring the inconvenient facts like that the Zionist effort to return to the land of Israel began in the nineteenth century and that in present-day Israel, the majority of Israelis descend from Jews originally from Arab countries.

Three of my grandparents came from Poland (or Russia or Ukraine or Lithuania).  It’s really hard to tell.  It was all in the so-called “Pale of Settlement,” where Jews mostly lived.

At some point after they arrived in America, they signed a declaration and later a petition for citizenship.  The below is from 1907:

It is my bona fide intention to renounce forever all allegiance and fidelity to any foreign prince, potentate, state, or sovereign, and particularly to [the tsar of Russia] of whom I am now a subject. ... I am not an Anarchist; I am not a Polygamist nor a believer in the practice of polygamy; and it is my intention in good faith to become a citizen of the United States and to permanently reside herein.  So Help Me God.

Decades later, both of my parents enlisted in the service.  During WWII, my father and his two younger brothers all served overseas.  The youngest was wounded in France and spent months in a hospital.  The middle brother had graduated from Yeshiva University and seemed destined to become a teacher or even a rabbi.  Instead, he enlisted and served as an intelligence officer in Sicily and Italy.

My father ended up the farthest away, at an airbase in India.  I have a remarkable picture of that time.  It’s a big tent with maybe a hundred soldiers, Jewish, each holding up a piece of matzah, obviously in celebration of Passover, and being led by an Indian rabbi, with other Indians in attendance.

Jewish soldiers and sailors shared a love of our country, and most continued to be proud Jews, seeing no contradiction.  Many carried the small prayer book published by the Jewish Welfare Board, updated from a 1917 version, published for Jews of that war.  Indeed, Jews have fought for the United States since the Revolutionary War.

Back home, my immigrant grandparents did all the things all parents do in wartime.  They worried, collected for drives of scrap like metal and rubber, donated to war bonds, and followed the news as best as they could.  And prayed.

One grandparent still found time to participate with Mizrachi, the Religious Zionists of America, keeping the land of Israel firmly in his mind.

Most of my fellow Boomers come from similar backgrounds.  Some have thrown away the Jewish and patriotic impulses they once held.  As for their children and grandchildren, who can say?  I do see some signs of hope.

One thing is certain.  We aren’t the people who need to return to their original home.  That would be the individuals wearing the keffiyeh, hiding their faces.

American Jews have always been home.  And shouldn’t have to hide.

Image: hendricjabs via Pixabay, Pixabay License.