At first glance, nothing has really changed in the premises of the Olami association, on the ground floor of a former bakery in Saint-Mandé, in Val-de-Marne. An old piano is still available to those who would like to take lessons, boxing sessions continue to be organized in the basement, and Itshak Parsy has just given, like every Wednesday evening, his Judaism lesson to around ten people. ‘students. But since October 7, the members of this Jewish association have adopted new habits. The large glass door that opens onto the street, always open, is now locked, and the curtains are drawn. The doorbell was changed for an intercom with video surveillance, and three other cameras were installed to permanently film the different rooms of the premises. In all rooms, tear gas canisters were also placed on the shelves. “We are taking all possible precautions,” breathes Itshak Parsy. Since the terrorist attacks perpetrated by Hamas in Israel, the teacher does not want to take any risks.
Every day, he listens to “the miseries” of his young students. “There is real anxiety: some no longer want to order online for fear of being spotted as Jewish, others no longer take a taxi, or uninstall Instagram to no longer be confronted with the violence of the comments,” says he said, annoyed. In one month, more than 1,040 anti-Semitic acts were recorded on French territory – more than in all of 2022 – without counting the 7,700 hate messages recorded on the Internet and transmitted to the Pharos platform. Around the dinner usually served after class, the young people gathered on this Wednesday evening tell L’Express about a daily life marked by this rise in anti-Semitism: a café manager who proclaims out loud “that she cannot not to annoy the Israelis” and that the latter “have been looking for it”, swastikas found in the mailboxes of relatives, acquaintances who suddenly practice double talk on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict… “A friend told me said that she was aware of the horrors of Hamas, but ‘that at the same time…’. And it is this unexpected ‘but’ that shocks, that hurts”, testifies Alma* who, like most of the students present, wished to remain anonymous.
On the other side of the table, Tom* admits to having changed certain habits to avoid any problems. The young man preferred to move his mezuzah, an object of Jewish worship traditionally placed at the entrance to homes, inside his apartment. On social networks, “a terrible sorting” was carried out among his friends, in order not to be confronted with “the comments of some, who post ambiguous messages” about Israel. The wearing of the kippah has also become a subject: the day after October 7, in the metro, an old man allegedly told him in Hebrew to cover it with his cap, calling him “unconscious”. Despite some more positive messages of support, questions are still present. “It’s still terrible to even have to think about adopting a different behavior. We end up saying to ourselves: do I have the right to exist as a Jew?” confides Tom.
“People are spinning”
Among French Jews, questions are multiplying. Small renunciations, too. In the 16th arrondissement of Paris, Isabelle banned her 15-year-old daughter from going to school on Friday October 13, while Hamas had launched a call to “participate in a day of anger” across the world. The teenager is also banned from hanging out in front of cafes where she used to chat with her friends, “for fear that she would be spotted as Jewish”. Faced with the increase in anti-Semitic acts, several residents of Isabelle’s building even asked to set up a private security system. “It causes me a problem in principle to have to come to this… But it shows you the shock we are going through,” explains the mother. In the same neighborhood, Ilana, who has just returned from Tel Aviv, forbade her three children from speaking in Hebrew and from pronouncing the word “Israel” in the street. “It’s strict, but it’s a word that makes heads turn. You never know,” she says.
Like others, she herself preferred to change her identity on the Uber application after relatives were insulted by drivers. The pendant displaying her name in Hebrew, which she usually wears around her neck, was also left in the closet. For the moment, Ilana indicates that she has not suffered any anti-Semitic act “physically”, but remains shocked by the violence of certain messages on social networks. After reacting to anti-Semitic comments below an article in a major national media outlet, the French Israeli was taken to task by several Internet users. “Do you remind us of the recipe for baby roast? I’m inviting friends to dinner tomorrow evening and I’d like to let them taste Zionist cuisine,” replied a user, in exchanges that L’Express was able to consult. “People are spinning, they have the feeling that they can say anything, post anything,” sighs Ilana.
To the point that self-censorship is gradually gaining ground. According to information from L’Express, the original title of the memoirs of a Holocaust survivor, which should soon be published by Grasset, was changed at the last minute at the request of its author. In view of recent events, the latter would prefer that the word “Jew” no longer appear there. In his book The teachers are afraid (L’Observatoire) published in October 2023, the former inspector general of national education Jean-Pierre Obin already mentioned the case of this history-geography professor who had just given a course “on Hitler and Nazism without speaking Jews”, so as not to “find your car vandalized like last time”.
“The stories of people who bring their mezuzah inside, change the name on their mailbox, are more discreet, do not file complaints for fear of reprisals, it’s a reality,” insists Yonathan Arfi, president of the Representative Council of Jewish Institutions of France (Crif). Alas, the man evokes the multiple examples of families who have, in recent weeks, removed the Star of David from their children’s necks, wear a cap over the yarmulke, and equip themselves with video surveillance systems. “These are gestures made reluctantly, experienced as difficult by a community which clearly feels that anti-Semitism is rising,” he comments. “The risk is the invisibility of French Jews in public spaces, who would disappear out of caution, out of vigilance. It would be a real tragedy.”
Don’t “play with fire”
In Levallois-Perret, a commune in Hauts-de-Seine where a large Jewish community resides, some oscillate between the feeling of having to tear down the walls and the refusal to “stand aside” in the face of hatred. Right in the city center, Maxime preferred to “lower the curtain” of his kosher butcher shop on Friday October 13, but never thought of closing shop. On a daily basis, he admits that the atmosphere is heavy: “Some customers who were used to chatting a little now want to be served as quickly as possible so as not to hang around. We are also asked to ensure that deliveries to home are rather made by Jewish delivery men”. Shany, encountered at the exit of a kosher store, says she “does not want to give in to fear.” In fact, his mezuzah remained on display outside his apartment, and his identity was not changed on social media. On the other hand, the refills of kosher shopping have become rarer in order to avoid “too many comings and goings”, and the members of his family no longer open to delivery people. “We have a name that couldn’t be more Jewish. There’s no point in playing with fire,” emphasizes the thirty-year-old.
Faced with the proliferation of these testimonies, the community is organizing. Chalom Lellouche, rabbi of Levallois, calls for systematic reporting of anti-Semitic comments or acts, the majority of which, according to him, are “currently kept quiet for fear of reprisals or difficulties in completing the process”. He also recalls that security measures have been largely reinforced around schools and synagogues, by an increased military and police presence, and the mobilization of the Jewish Community Protection Service (SPCJ) – an organization managed by Crif , the United Jewish Social Fund (FSJU) and the consistories, responsible for recording anti-Semitic acts and protecting the community.
According to Ariel Goldmann, president of the FSJU which coordinates the network of Jewish schools in France, many “protective parents” are thus responsible for “keeping a vigilant eye on the comings and goings in establishments and filtering entries”, while training to security are also offered by the SPCJ “to those who wish it”. “There is a feeling of insecurity which is growing, and mobilizing more volunteers,” assures Moché Lewin, rabbi in Raincy (Seine-Saint-Denis). Also a member of the National Consultative Commission on Human Rights, the latter specifies that a listening cell for the Jewish community has been created at the national level, and is currently “in great demand”. “Be careful, however, of possible fake news, which only reinforces fear. Check the information before sharing it,” asks the rabbi.
At the local level, organizations such as the Union of Jewish Students of France (UEJF) are also trying to provide a response to general anxiety. In Nanterre, the association has set up discussion groups between students. In recent days, a subject has dominated the discussions: should we or not go to the demonstration against anti-Semitism which will take place next Sunday? “Everyone wants to go, but honestly, some are scared to death,” guarantees Annaëlle, president of the UEJF in Nanterre. She herself will refrain from wearing open or heeled shoes, “in case she has to run”.
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