Guno צְבִי
We fight, We win, Am Yisrael Chai
Trump’s latest comments on Jews are shocking, but they’re also a natural extension of the evolution of the GOP
Truth be told, Trump’s consistent embrace of antisemitic tropes is one of the least weird, and most consistent, aspects of his politics. Unlike say, cat-eating immigrants or cancer-causing windmills, the antisemitic tropes on which he tends to lean — most recently by suggesting Jews would bear serious blame if he loses the November presidential election — have long been a staple of right-wing politics in America.
The late Rep. John Rankin, who helped to found the infamous U.S. House Committee on Un-American Activities, warned the nation of the “alien-minded communistic enemies of Christianity” who were “trying to take over the motion-picture industry.” Lest anyone remain confused about who he meant, Rankin — who was a Mississippi Democrat, before the party’s embrace of the Civil Rights Movement sent his ilk into the arms of Republicans — said the threat he identified had “hounded and persecuted our Savior during his earthly ministry, inspired his crucifixion, derided him in his dying agony, and then gambled for his garments at the foot of the cross.” Now, this same group of “long-nosed reprobates” was out “to undermine and destroy America,” one movie theater at a time.
Decades later, as Evangelical Christians grew to become the Republican party’s base, antisemitic attitudes in that party grew more and more common. Speaking to a 1979 “I love America” rally in Richmond, Virginia, Pastor Jerry Falwell, a Republican stalwart, said, “I know a few of you here today don’t like Jews, and I know why,” adding that Jews, “can make more money accidentally than you can on purpose.” In his 1991 book, The New World Order, televangelist Pat Robertson — who would address the Republican National Convention the following year — spewed conspiracy theories that read like an update of The Protocols of the Elders of Zion.
All of this is to say that, when Trump says something shocking about Jews — which he inevitably does, just as he inevitably says shocking things about immigrants, women, or Vice President Kamala Harris’ racial identity — it’s a distraction. We become so focused on his singular bigotry that we can forget that he is not an aberration within the Republican Party, but in many ways a representation of the values it has long perpetuated.
Yet under Trump, Republicans have grown even more brazen about appealing to the antisemites in their midst. We got a hint of what was coming, when, during the final days of the 2016 campaign, Trump ran a commercial attacking George Soros, Goldman Sachs CEO Lloyd Blankfein, and Federal Reserve chair Janet Yellen — all of them Jews — claiming that they were seeking to control the world. Two years later, during the 2018 midterm elections, House majority leader Kevin McCarthy warned on Twitter that Soros and his fellow Jewish billionaires Michael Bloomberg and Tom Steyer were trying “to BUY this election!”
forward.com
Truth be told, Trump’s consistent embrace of antisemitic tropes is one of the least weird, and most consistent, aspects of his politics. Unlike say, cat-eating immigrants or cancer-causing windmills, the antisemitic tropes on which he tends to lean — most recently by suggesting Jews would bear serious blame if he loses the November presidential election — have long been a staple of right-wing politics in America.
The late Rep. John Rankin, who helped to found the infamous U.S. House Committee on Un-American Activities, warned the nation of the “alien-minded communistic enemies of Christianity” who were “trying to take over the motion-picture industry.” Lest anyone remain confused about who he meant, Rankin — who was a Mississippi Democrat, before the party’s embrace of the Civil Rights Movement sent his ilk into the arms of Republicans — said the threat he identified had “hounded and persecuted our Savior during his earthly ministry, inspired his crucifixion, derided him in his dying agony, and then gambled for his garments at the foot of the cross.” Now, this same group of “long-nosed reprobates” was out “to undermine and destroy America,” one movie theater at a time.
Decades later, as Evangelical Christians grew to become the Republican party’s base, antisemitic attitudes in that party grew more and more common. Speaking to a 1979 “I love America” rally in Richmond, Virginia, Pastor Jerry Falwell, a Republican stalwart, said, “I know a few of you here today don’t like Jews, and I know why,” adding that Jews, “can make more money accidentally than you can on purpose.” In his 1991 book, The New World Order, televangelist Pat Robertson — who would address the Republican National Convention the following year — spewed conspiracy theories that read like an update of The Protocols of the Elders of Zion.
All of this is to say that, when Trump says something shocking about Jews — which he inevitably does, just as he inevitably says shocking things about immigrants, women, or Vice President Kamala Harris’ racial identity — it’s a distraction. We become so focused on his singular bigotry that we can forget that he is not an aberration within the Republican Party, but in many ways a representation of the values it has long perpetuated.
Yet under Trump, Republicans have grown even more brazen about appealing to the antisemites in their midst. We got a hint of what was coming, when, during the final days of the 2016 campaign, Trump ran a commercial attacking George Soros, Goldman Sachs CEO Lloyd Blankfein, and Federal Reserve chair Janet Yellen — all of them Jews — claiming that they were seeking to control the world. Two years later, during the 2018 midterm elections, House majority leader Kevin McCarthy warned on Twitter that Soros and his fellow Jewish billionaires Michael Bloomberg and Tom Steyer were trying “to BUY this election!”
Not just Trump: Antisemitism is pervasive in the Republican Party
Former President Donald Trump's antisemitism is a distraction from how deeply rooted the oldest hatred has become in the Republican party.
forward.com
