By Nick Catoggio
Tuesday, June 03, 2025
A rule of thumb in journalism is that three
instances of the same thing happening constitutes a
“trend.” By that standard, America is experiencing a trend in terrorism against
Jews.
We’ve been experiencing one for a while, actually. Last
fall the FBI reported 1,832
antisemitic hate crimes in 2023, a record high since the data began being
tracked more than 30 years ago. Fifteen percent of all hate crimes in the
United States in 2023 were aimed at Jews, who make up just 2 percent of the
population.
If it feels like things have gotten worse lately, though,
that’s because they have. In April the Pennsylvania governor’s mansion was
firebombed while Josh Shapiro and his family were inside; the suspect said he
targeted Shapiro because of “what
he wants to do to the Palestinian people.” Last month two staffers from the
Israeli embassy in Washington were gunned down by a man who shouted “free,
free Palestine” when he was arrested. Then, on Sunday, demonstrators
marching for the release of Israeli hostages were attacked in Boulder,
Colorado, by an illegal
immigrant from Egypt who reportedly told police that
he wanted to “kill
all Zionist people and wished they were all dead.”
Three makes a trend. If a right-wing political movement
had inspired three terror attacks in two months, American media would have no
trouble drawing broad conclusions about that movement’s inherent
propensity for violence. The intifada has in fact been globalized.
What should the federal government do about it?
My colleague Mike Warren published a
righteous plea elsewhere on the site today for the
president to speak up and condemn antisemitism. Donald Trump did post a statement on Monday about the Boulder attack, insisting that it “WILL NOT
BE TOLERATED in the United States of America,” but framed it as an immigration
issue rather than as the latest example in a string of anti-Jewish violence. He
didn’t mention Jews, Israel, or antisemitism in his post at all, in fact. Even
Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez managed to do better than that.
It’s “vital” that Trump speak up more forcefully, Mike
argues. “There’s a message Americans need to hear now: There’s no place in
America for bigotry against Jews, and no one who calls himself an American
should tolerate it,” he writes.
I agree that the president should bring to bear whatever
moral pressure he can muster to prevent further attacks on Jewish Americans.
But there’s something a little … 2015 about demanding that he do so.
Is it still “vital” for the chief executive to
model moral leadership for Americans in a moment of crisis? I want to believe
that it is. But I don’t.
Low risk, high reward.
The case that Trump should speak out is unassailably
simple: It can’t hurt, and it might help.
It’s a costless exercise. For the price of a few words,
the president might save lives.
Donald Trump wields no moral authority over the left, but
putting the country on notice that federal law enforcement is treating hate
crimes against Jews as a priority might make America’s more excitable
progressive intifada enthusiasts think twice. There’s surely deterrent value in
letting miscreants know that they’ll be shown no mercy if they act on their
impulses.
Trump does wield considerable moral authority over the
right, meanwhile, and the right has an antisemitism problem of its own. A
survey conducted last year by Blue Rose Research found 18-year-olds are roughly four times more likely than
65-year-olds to say that they hold an unfavorable opinion of Jewish people—and
among that younger cohort, Trump’s supporters were more likely to say so than
Kamala Harris’ supporters. The reasons for that are complicated (although not
that complicated), but by that measure, young MAGA is the most antisemitic
cohort in America.
If you worry about 20-something populists being
radicalized into hostility toward Jews, and you
should be, then having the most influential right-wing leader since Ronald
Reagan declare such hostility anathema to his movement might fruitfully cause a
few of them to think twice as well. It would be a rare example of the
cultishness around Trump working for America rather than against it. If the
president calls the tune morally for his diehard fans, it’s that much more
important that he loudly demand respect for Jews.
Condemning the violence might also awaken the perpetually
slumbering casual voter to the extent of the problem. I’d bet good money that
the average joe has no idea how disproportionately Jews are targeted with hate
crimes or that the attack in Boulder on Sunday was the third high-profile act
of antisemitic terror since April. If you fear Americans are becoming
desensitized to a dangerous social pathology, Trump can help. No one is able to
focus the public’s attention on an issue as efficiently as the man who commands
the bully pulpit.
In all sorts of ways, taking Mike’s advice would be good
politics for Trump, too. It would give him a rare shot of moral credibility. It
would buttress his case for cracking
down on antisemitism at American universities. It would prove that his
outrage over persecution isn’t limited
to the plight of white Christians. And it would give him some political
cover in case one of his Groyper fans eventually shoots up a synagogue.
If you want to be really cynical, it would also
give him a handy pretext for some nefarious future executive power grab. The
man loves to declare national emergencies and then assert dubious new legal
authorities in the name of addressing them. Pronouncing antisemitism a major crisis
that requires him to behave like an even more domineering strongman would by no
means be the most
dubious emergency he’s identified this year.
Oh, and in case anyone still cares about such things,
there’s this: It would be the right thing to do.
Doing the right thing because it’s the right thing would
be wildly out of character for Trump, but if you want a more virtuous
country then it’s all to the good to have the leader setting the right example.
The fact that antisemitism skews young nowadays suggests it’ll be more common
in America in the future if something isn’t done to turn the tide. If the
president is willing to try, we shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.
So, yes, Mike is correct. And yet….
Even in a noble cause, “Donald Trump, moral leader” is so
transparently a charade that to entertain it feels like being party to one of
his lies.
Postmoral.
What distinguishes Trump as president from his
predecessors is that he views
morality as a form of weakness and makes no bones
about it.
It’s not that he’s insincere when he pays lip service to
moral virtue, as many politicians are. It’s that he demonstrates
flagrant contempt for the concept.
Last September Joe Biden denounced the assassination attempt on Trump. Whether he meant it or not
is known only to him, but saying the right thing about political violence
wasn’t glaringly inconsistent with Biden’s approach to government—or Barack
Obama’s or George W. Bush’s, etc. Presidents have traditionally sounded
conciliatory toward political opponents who’ve suffered some terrible
misfortune. However they may feel privately, they’ve shown magnanimity during
moments of high public emotion to reinforce that we’re all Americans and shouldn’t
sacrifice our humanity toward each other to politics.
Not one of them would have dared respond this way to news
that his former opponent had been diagnosed with Stage 4 cancer:
“Donald Trump is the first president in my lifetime who does not try to unite the American people—does not even pretend to try. Instead, he tries to divide us.” That’s James Mattis writing in 2020, explaining why he couldn’t endorse his former boss for reelection. Simply put, Trump doesn’t do unity. He doesn’t even do unity within his own party. He’s for Trump and Trump alone.
Insofar as Americans want to unify behind letting him do
whatever he wants, he welcomes unity. Otherwise, the question is the same as it
always is: What’s in it for him?
This is what I meant earlier when I said that calling for
him to speak up against antisemitism feels more 2015 than 2025. To ask him to
do that is to apply a moral model of politics to a country that rejected that
model emphatically last year. Americans knew Trump was a rotten character, an
actual criminal with dozens of charges still pending against him, and not above
trying to tear the country apart to preserve his hold on power after losing a
national election. They elected him anyway.
I’d go as far as to say that he won because he’s
amoral. Voters wanted someone who would be ruthless toward immigrants and
criminals and regarded his sociopathy as an asset in that task. That probably
also explains why there’s so much public apathy over his
immense corruption: We all knew what we were getting. You can’t hire the
Joker to do a job and then get mad when he starts stealing.
Trumpism is ultimately a moral
project, not a political one, a bid to substitute
the will to power for Christianity as the moral
bedrock of right-wing politics. By definition, the person at the center of that
alternate morality can’t supply meaningful moral leadership against
antisemitism. The sort of presidential statement that Mike is imagining would
be a classic appeal to the proverbial better angels of our nature, a vintage,
“This isn’t who we are.” But it’s no longer clear who we are: If Trump’s
political success proves anything, it’s that Americans are a lot less angelic
than many of us once believed.
If voters prefer to be governed by ruthless sociopaths,
I’d prefer that they not flatter themselves about their supposed virtue by
asking Trump to meet the same moral expectations as the sort of presidents they
used to elect. The best he might realistically do if he speaks out about
Boulder is to go through the motions and play-act a condemnation for the sake
of getting critics off his back. And if he does, the same people who elected
him because he doesn’t do morality or national unity will pretend that
he cares and applaud. It would be a farce on all sides, and American politics
has had enough farces …
… unless, of course, even an insincere condemnation
of violence against Jews by the president manages to deter some bad actors.
Sincere insincerity.
I spent 20 minutes this morning debating with my editors
whether Trump should denounce the recent attacks if he doesn’t actually care
about them, even if there’s nothing in it for him in doing so. They eventually
persuaded me that the answer is “yes.”
Doing the right thing for the wrong reasons is still
doing the right thing. And there surely are Trump supporters out there fanatic
enough in their loyalty or ignorant enough about his character (even now!) that
they actually do assign moral weight to his opinions. What you and I recognize
as him going through the motions might persuade the “Camp
Auschwitz” wing of populism to abstain from joining in the intifada fun.
But here again there’s a moral dilemma: Why is there a
“Camp Auschwitz” wing in the first place? How much can we reasonably praise
Trump for speaking up now when his movement helped make right-wing culture
hospitable enough to antisemitism that young Trump voters outnumber even
progressive chuds in polls of hostility to Jews?
The New York Times published a useful piece on
Tuesday revisiting the president’s long history of gladhanding
racists and their fellow travelers, some of whom now work
for his administration. His most powerful political backer, Elon Musk,
subscribes to
the “great replacement theory” and has turned Twitter
into the
“Nazi bar” of social media platforms. His old pal Kanye West released a new
song last month titled, I kid you not, “Heil Hitler.” Trump
himself has promoted
antisemitic stereotypes, albeit without the usual venom. And while he has
condemned antisemites before, he typically does
so reluctantly, only after being browbeaten by the media into doing so.
It’s not that he disdains Jews—his daughter and
grandchildren are Jewish—so much as that he can’t bring himself to disdain
anyone, including those who disdain Jews, if they support him. That’s
postliberalism in a nutshell: The only moral failure that will disqualify you
from the movement is failing to support the leader. So long as you’re with him,
you won’t be judged for whichever noxious form of authoritarianism your
politics happens to take.
How does a leader like Trump speak with moral authority
about antisemitism now, having enabled a political culture as repulsive as
that? How can anyone except his most devoted toadies take him seriously?
I suspect that’s one of the reasons he hasn’t condemned
the Boulder attack more forcefully. Doing so will only invite more media
scrutiny of his own terrible amorality about right-wingers being bigoted toward
Jews. Perhaps he even fears that doing so will piss off too many of his own
fans: As much as they’d enjoy seeing him berate left-wingers for their
immorality, a rousing defense of Jewish Americans might seem a bit too
“establishment” for certain populists.
Or maybe it’s his staff that’s urged him to lie low,
remembering the “very
fine people on both sides” fiasco when he spoke about
the Charlottesville rally in 2017. It’s possible, maybe even likely, that if
Trump delivered public remarks condemning the string of recent attacks on Jews
he’d end up veering off-script and shoot himself in the foot. If you can’t imagine
him offhandedly blaming Israel for the intifada attacks because Benjamin
Netanyahu won’t
heed his advice to end the war in Gaza, you haven’t been watching the same
guy I have for the past 10 years.
In the end, though, I assume he will have something to
say about Boulder. Trump and his movement have created enough of a cultural
monster on the right that him remaining silent about it would look suspicious
in a way that, say, George W. Bush remaining silent would not. And Trump will
eventually figure out that he would be the main beneficiary of denouncing the
incident, earning a bit of hopeful “strange new respect” from voters who
haven’t yet made peace with the reality that the government they elected last
year holds traditional morality in contempt.
I hope Trump speaking up does some good. It’d be a pity
to go through the charade for nothing.
No comments:
Post a Comment