In the spring of 2018 I took a call at home just before the weekend from Jonathan Goldstein, the chairman of the Jewish Leadership Council. It wasn’t one I’d been expecting, and the subject wasn’t one I’d anticipated, either.
“Danny,” he said, “we are thinking of organising a protest demonstration. And I wanted to know what you thought.”
Now, this isn’t a question I’ve been asked often. To put it at its mildest, I am not the first person people think about when they decide they want to organise a demo. Can you recommend a book on the battle for the Republican Presidential nomination of 1968 ? How do I get my charity event mentioned in The Times? What are the chances of a draw between Aston Villa and Norwich City? All these things, I’m your first port of call. I’m thinking of picketing a meeting? Less so.
Jonathan rehearsed the events of the previous few days. In particular we talked about Jeremy Corbyn’s support for an antisemitic mural, which seem to encapsulate the attitude of the Labour Party under his leadership.
He said he had been discussing the issue with, among other people, Karen Pollock of the Holocaust Educational Trust, and they had come up with the idea of holding a rally in Parliament Square before sending a message to the Parliamentary Labour Party. He was proposing we do it on Monday. What did I think?
Now, he probably dropped Karen’s name in there because he knew I held her in high regard, and it did work. It made me pause for a second. But I have to admit that my first reaction was a sort of silent embarrassment.
Jonathan doesn’t know this, because I didn’t say it out loud, but before I said anything my thoughts were these. A demo? Really? Us? On Monday? I mean what if no one comes? And no one will come, will they? We will be standing there like absolute chumps. I honestly love you Johnny, but are you sure you and I are quite the demo types? There’s irony and then there is you and me waving placards at Jeremy Corbyn. That is taking irony to another level.
The Enough Is Enough demonstration against Labour antisemitism in March 2018
But before I spoke, he gently took me through the arguments. The mural was an important moment because no one could say it was about Israel. That it was antisemitic would be obvious to most independent observers. And this being politics we had to act straight away or the moment would pass. And — here he made the crucial argument — the fact that we weren’t the demo types was the whole point. That, he said, is what would give the event its power.
So what I found myself saying out loud was: “You know what? You are right. I think this could make an impact. Let’s go for it.”
I’m bothering you with this because a couple of weeks back Jonathan said he was stepping down as head of the Jewish Leadership Council (JLC) and I wanted to say thank you. What he showed then was real leadership and it mattered.
Other people will know the difference he has made as head of the JLC in their areas, and there are many. But this is my area of expertise, so I will just contribute this.
He demonstrated a lot of courage. Not just to confront something deeply dangerous and aggressive, but to take a risk with something else almost as bad. He risked looking foolish, organising something that no one came to, or that appeared a bit silly. People are rarely ready to risk their dignity. He had the confidence and insight to think it would work and he was right.
He also took time (and his work for the JLC already took really a lot of time) and trouble to consult people, take them through the arguments and make sure they were comfortable. It’s hugely to his credit (and to the credit of the Board of Deputies leadership) that the community united against a real threat rather than, say, the Board and the JLC falling out.
And the campaign made a real difference. As did the whole well-thought through campaign to confront antisemitism. We owe Jonathan Goldstein a debt of gratitude.
Daniel Finkelstein is Associate Editor of The Times
