Why I Won’t Be Appearing at the Brooklyn Commons on Wednesday
On Wednesday, as I announced in my last blog, I’m scheduled to appear on The Katie Halper Show, which is being broadcast live from the Brooklyn Commons. I’ve decided I can’t go on the show because of the venue.
Brooklyn Commons is the space that last month hosted Christopher Bollyn—an anti-Semite who seems to find a Jewish conspiracy wherever he turns, who can’t seem to speak of a crime or injustice in the world without saying the word “Jewish”—despite repeated requests from prominent progressives and leftists that Brooklyn Commons not do so. Though I knew of that controversy, I hadn’t made the connection to the venue when I agreed to come on Katie’s show. After it was pointed out to me, I asked Katie if we could move the show. When she said it couldn’t be moved, I told her I couldn’t do it.
I’m sure that many institutions and venues where I have spoken probably have hosted equally odious, if not more odious, speakers. Universities are the obvious example. And it seems that Brooklyn Commons, in addition to providing inexpensive, subsidized space to a variety of progressive groups, including many of my friends and comrades at Jacobin, hosts the occasional speaker propounding a different view.
I’m making a more limited and personal decision here. This is a local venue, not far from where I live, that has come to be identified not as a free-speech zone, not as an academic seminar or university lecture series, but as a space for progressives. Bollyn is a vile anti-Semite. I am Jewish. I am also an anti-Zionist. I have long insisted that we must make a distinction between anti-Semitism and anti-Zionism. Because of my Judaism, and my anti-Zionism, I feel a special obligation not simply to denounce anti-Semitism, but also not to associate with it or with non-university-type institutions that cater to it or provide a platform for it. Particularly when those institutions were asked and provided every reason not to do that, and in response, could only proffer what seems like an ever-shifting and shady litany of excuses and excuse-making.
I tend to shy away from pro forma denunciations of faraway acts. I dislike the ritualized tsk-tsk-this-is-terrible-now-go-back-to-whatever-you-were-doing that we’re all called upon to perform against obvious and universally acknowledged wrongs like anti-Semitism or racism. But when an issue touches me in so many ways, when it is so close to home in every sense—geographically, politically, personally—I feel that I have no choice.
I want to be clear that I am speaking here for myself. This is not a criticism of Katie, for whom I have the greatest affection and respect and who I know has zero sympathy for Bollyn’s views, or of Jacobin or other organizations that have vigorously protested the hosting of Bollyn yet, for a number of practical reasons (cost being the most important), have elected to remain at Brooklyn Commons. I do not in any sense read their decision to remain as an endorsement of Bollyn or the decision to host him. I’m not trying to organize people or rally them to a cause; mine is more a personal than a political decision. I simply could not feel clean walking through those doors.