It wasn’t long after the start of the Israeli offensive in Gaza that the accusation of genocide against the Jewish state began to emerge. Already on October 7, before any retaliation, the first echoes of it could be heard. For radical anti-Zionists, the genocide has been going on for 75 years, the project to wipe out the indigenous Palestinian people has been unfolding for 75 years, and the genocidal essence of the Zionist state has been asserting itself for 75 years. But where does this “evidence” come from? When, by whom and under what conditions was this implacable equation formulated? And what accounts for its remarkable spread? This week, we begin publication of Daniel Szeftel’s historical investigation of this question, which makes an important contribution to contemporary debates on the notion of settler colonialism. The first part of his diptych deals with the revival of Arab nationalism from the 20s to the 40s, its compromises with European fascism, and the influence of antisemitic Protestant missionaries. For the moment, we are witnessing the structuring of an ideological discourse that, at this stage, openly claims its integral nationalism and eliminationist antisemitism. Next week, we’ll see how, through a curious process of accusatory reversal, this discourse will be hollowed out and reformulated for Western international and academic institutions in the post-war period.
Two Jews who knew each other neither from Eve nor from Adam get on a plane and find themselves sitting next to each other. No, this is not the beginning of a Jewish joke, but a personal account by writer Barbara Honigmann. What could two Jews be talking about when they meet for the first time? And what is at stake in the bond that, for the duration of a flight and despite their differences, is forged between them?
In the mid-1990s, the number of Jews in Algeria did not exceed fifty, whereas 150,000 lived there before independence. And yet… a rumor persists. “Jews in Algeria? There are still some. They are numerous, just about everywhere. They hide. They practice their religion in silence. Without showing themselves. Jews in Algeria? Of course, my grandmother knows some… ” This kind of statement circulates in the Algerian streets, like an urban legend. The Jews are an integral part of Algerian history: Algeria certainly does little to preserve traces of their presence, but in this omission of which the cemeteries are the main clues, the secret is passed on. Joseph Benamour evokes this strange distortion that makes the Jews a fantasized Algerian presence, while they remain untraceable in reality.
