On the eve of EHRC: atonement, responsibility, and my Exodus from Labour
I've been meaning to write this for a while, and now is my last chance before the clock runs down.
Over Yom Kippur - the Day of Atonement - I thought a lot about my behaviour through Labour’s antisemitism crisis: the anger I feel, how I treated others, and my own complicity.
The problem is deep. It’s institutional. It’s cultural. I don’t know whether the EHRC will say that - I’m reasonably sure it will. But regardless, my own experiences tell me that much. And the thing about a problem like that, is it touches everyone. Everyone bears responsibility. Everyone makes some sort of compromise. Everyone is complicit.
Of course, there are the cranks, deniers, and fellow travelers. From the very top right down to members in my branch who still now are spewing their hate on social media.
Then there are the stay and fight-ers, who decided to dance with the devil, and even the refuseniks, the leavers, who tried to wash their hands of it. I was the one, and then I was the other.
And then, there are those who looked the other way, and kept their heads down.
And here's where we run into trouble. The straw that broke this camel's back, my own red line, was when my own MP went to campaign in Peterborough for Lisa "Zionist Slave Masters" Forbes. I had an MP who was in the same political tradition as me, who was at the Enough is Enough demo, who herself has Jewish heritage. But like the whole Parliamentary Party, she decided her commitment to Labour trumped her commitment as an antiracist. It was the moment I couldn't pretend the problem was just with the leadership and its cult - the rot was too deep.
Nothing can change that. But post-EHRC, what does my relationship with people like that look like? How do we move forward? How do achieve truth and reconciliation?
The day before I rejoined Labour - the day Rebecca Long-Bailey shared the sort of conspiratorial antisemitism that had become normalised - I posted on social media how Keir Starmer didn’t have the courage to fire her. About 2 hours later, I looked pretty bloody stupid.
I had been convinced that rather than grapple with the cultural problem on display, he would hide behind process, promising an investigation and the improved disciplinary system we've been waiting for since the 2016 Chakrabarti whitewash.
I was wrong.
But this brings us back to: what now? Of course, the disciplinary process isn't fit for purpose. But that alone is not enough to change Labour's toxic party culture. I've been mulling this for a long time: what, exactly, do I want to see happen?
It's not for me to say who is a Good Jew, but my friend Adam Langleben is certainly a good socialist. We've been on a similar journey. We both dug our heels in to reclaim the party we loved, and both chose exodus on defeat. Adam has spoken very powerfully how he is not yet ready to come home. Paraphrasing, that he isn't prepared to wage a one man battle for Labour's soul. The Party needs to collectively commit to change.
I think about that a lot. The Labour Party has a Deputy Leader who dismissed antisemitism as a smear, point blank refused solidarity with women Jewish MPs bullied out, and continues to defend and praise the individuals most responsible for bringing Jew hate within a heartbeat from power. It still feels like Labour has a long way to go.
Above everything else, what I need - and, without being presumptuous, what I think the Jewish community needs - is an acceptance of responsibility once the EHRC report comes out tomorrow. Not an abstract apology for "institutional antisemitism". But for Kate, for Rayner, for Starmer, for everyone to accept that they themselves did wrong, that they fell short, that they personally will do better.
I think that's the only way to heal the collective harm felt. I've done it. Will Labour?
