Omer Bartov
Genocide, the Holocaust, and October 7: On the Use and Misuse of Terminology
If the Holocaust was the clearest justification for the need to create a Jewish state, what role has it played in Israel’s history for the last seven decades? For most Jews around the world, the establishment of a Jewish state as a haven for world Jewry seemed the only logical conclusion of the Holocaust. But what appeared as an act of supreme justice became entangled in an act of injustice from its very inception. Because the injustice of the expulsion of 750,000 Palestinians from what became the state of Israel—and the refusal to let them return—came so soon after the Holocaust, and because the displacement of most of the Arab inhabitants of Palestine was carried out by Jews who were recently displaced from Europe themselves, the Shoah and the Nakba became inextricably entangled. And yet, the respective victims of these two events have insistently rejected the stark reality of this entanglement, precisely because they perceived their own catastrophe as constitutive of their individual and collective identities.
Since that time, the Holocaust has played an increasing role in Israeli self-perception and political rhetoric. Ironically, just as the numbers of those who survived the hell of Nazism progressively diminished, so the importance of the Shoah in Israeli public life grew. By now, the conflict with the Palestinians, or rather the various forms of rule by 7,000,000 Jews over 7,000,000 Palestinians, can only be seen through the distorting lens of a historical event that has little connection to the reality of occupation and oppression. And yet, the Holocaust continues to play a major role both in excusing the occupation as an essential bulwark against another Holocaust, and—as was the reality in Israel for several decades until October 7—in keeping the occupation hidden from view behind a complex of separation walls, fences, and bypass roads. In this manner, undemocratic and oppressive rule over the other half of the population was repressed as unrelated to a progressive, prosperous, Western-oriented Jewish Israel.
Eventually, the clarifying catastrophe of the Holocaust became, for most Israelis, a vast and ugly fig leaf, whose combined effect was a lamentable combination of self-victimization and self-pity with self-righteousness, hubris, and power-driven euphoria, whereby one side of the equation justified the other. Ethical concerns and moral qualms were brushed aside as either marginal or distracting in the face of the ultimate cataclysm that is the genocide of the Jews. What had been for long the “never again” syndrome thus became its exact opposite—the “again and again” syndrome, an internalized, irrational, and misleading terror of another Holocaust, always lurking around the corner, from which one can liberate oneself only by lashing out, pushing down, breaking in, and blowing up, both one’s own doubts and unease, and any real or perceived external threat. This is not a mental condition or a historical conception that is conducive to tolerance, understanding, moderation, and reconciliation.
To be sure, there were always other forces in Israeli society that worked against this so-called Holocaust-ism, or Shoah-tiyut, arguing that the growing prevalence of Holocaust paranoia and fears of universal antisemitism were bringing about precisely what they sought to forestall, namely, growing resistance from the people whose lands are occupied and growing disenchantment with Israel by its greatest foreign supporters. But even those more liberal forces in Israel never entirely liberated themselves from that constitutive Holocaust mentality, as can be seen after October 7 with what has been called the “sobering up” of the Israeli Left. Thus, we repeatedly hear about the Left’s “realization” that contrary to its hopes, it has turned out that the Palestinians really do want to perpetrate another Holocaust on Israel. Consequently, Israelis have no choice but to do all it takes to protect themselves regardless of what the rest of the world says.
This mentality has been cultivated by Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and his successive governments for decades. It was under his guidance that the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance (IHRA) definition of antisemitism was pushed by Israeli representatives around the world, making criticism of Israeli policies tantamount to antisemitism and antisemitism tantamount to genocidal intent—part and parcel of the Palestinian struggle against the Israeli occupation. The aggressively critical responses we hear today in Germany, France, Britain, and the United States directed toward those calling to put an end not only to the slaughter in Gaza but also to the entire apparatus of occupation testify to the success of Netanyahu’s rhetoric, which presents resistance to occupation as genocidal, and illegal settlement as a just Jewish response to past and future Holocausts.
The abuse of terminology has therefore become a tool of policy and an instrument of obfuscation and propaganda. It is for this reason that we, as scholars dedicated to truth, justice, and transparency, must insist on what we mean when we use such terms, and expose those who intentionally, or out of ignorance, misuse them. Indeed, only by clarifying our terms can we begin moving toward resolving this crisis and opening the path for political reconciliation and justice for all. Yet this is far more difficult than one might think.
Here is one recent example: on February 14, 2024, the Van Leer Institute in Jerusalem hosted a symposium titled “The Hague: Gaza, Us, and the World” (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q4c_LNHRvx0&t=1s). The keynote speech was delivered by Professor Eyal Benvenisti, the Whewell Professor of International Law at Cambridge University and Director of the Lauterpacht Centre for International Law. Hersch Lauterpacht had defined the term “crimes against humanity” as the extermination of civilian populations as individual human beings. At around the same time, Raphael Lemkin, who came from a similar East European Jewish background, coined the term genocide as the intent to destroy ethnic, national, or religious groups, as such (Philippe Sands, East West Street: On the Origins of Crimes Against Humanity and Genocide [New York: Knopf, 2016]). The discussion at the Van Leer Institute focused on the implications of South Africa’s referral of Israel to the International Court of Justice (ICJ) on suspicion of perpetrating genocide.
Interestingly, despite his scholarly credentials, Benvenisti made rather loose use of the terms genocide and antisemitism. As he put it, South Africa’s action was not motivated by a desire to stop the war in Gaza but rather intended “to exploit the international stage in order to deny the legitimacy of the Jewish state” and to “undermine the deep connection between the existence of the state as resurrection following the attempt to exterminate its people.” For that reason, he agreed with the Israeli defense team’s description of South Africa’s filing as a “blood libel,” thereby linking it directly to the deepest wells of European antisemitism. Indeed, Benvenisti stated unambiguously that “the criticism against us . . . is partly driven by antisemitic motivation.”
Conversely, in Benvenisti’s view, the “terrible massacre, the genocide carried out by Hamas on the Black Sabbath and the crimes it committed . . . indeed fit the definition of genocide.” Asked about this statement in the discussion, Benvenisti reiterated that to his mind “people had been killed and slaughtered in a terrible manner because they were members of a group and only for that reason. This is the definition of genocide according to the convention.”
I cite Benvenisti’s statements because they demonstrate that even among experts of the very terms in question other factors tend to intervene when discussing issues involving their own worldview and sentiments. Benvenisti provided no proof whatsoever that either South Africa or the ICJ was motivated by antisemitism, but simply asserted the fact, to the general agreement of his almost exclusively Jewish Israeli audience. To those present, apart from the Palestinian Professor of Law Raef Zreik, who raised some questions about these assertions, this was obvious. Similarly, Benvenisti’s assertion that the Hamas attack was genocidal was stated without any perceived need for proof. The fact, for instance, that Hamas militants also massacred Bedouin and Filipino workers, who clearly pointed out to them that they were not Jews, was not considered. Nor did Benvenisti entertain the possibility of categorizing the Hamas attack as a war crime or a crime against humanity. Simultaneously, he insisted that even the suspicion that Israel’s actions in Gaza, costing the lives of over 30,000 people, including over 10,000 children, might be criminal, was clearly antisemitic.
I could similarly cite numerous statements around the world accusing Israel of genocide even before the IDF operation in Gaza began, indicating both an expectation of mass violence—which was not unwarranted—and in some cases an understanding of Israeli policies against Palestinians as a priori genocidal. There is also no need here to retrace the multiple groundless allegations of antisemitism against university presidents and professors, the vicious attacks against both Muslims and Jews on campuses and elsewhere, and the deafening silence by so many mainstream and knowledgeable experts and public figures, who for fear of being labeled one way or another are leaving the field open to extremists and thereby contributing to the polarization they oppose.
As I see it, what we need now is clarity and purpose. Terminology should be applied precisely, as a tool to understanding and defining events rather than as an instrument of politics. The purpose of such clarity must be finding a way out of the chaos. This is not the place to outline in detail what I have in mind. But several issues must be stated outright. First, violence cannot resolve this conflict. Second, the notion that Israel can manage the Palestinian issue by shoving it under the rug can no longer be entertained. The 14 million people living between the river and the sea must be offered a way to coexist in peace, justice, and dignity. Third, the political leaders on both sides, and their policies, have been deeply discredited and must be replaced. Fourth, only massive international intervention and commitment, especially but not exclusively by the United States, can begin pushing both sides toward changing the political paradigm of the last few decades toward seeking reconciliation. Providing a political horizon of sharing the land will change the current reality as well.
Finally, if we are to take seriously the postwar slogan “never again,” this is the moment to do so. It is already too late for tens of thousands of innocents. It is time to pull back from the abyss and do everything in our power as scholars, students, and citizens to convince our governments to compel the warring sides to stop the killing and bring peace to the region and its peoples.
Omer Bartov is the Samuel Pisar Professor of Holocaust and Genocide Studies at Brown University. Born in Israel and educated at Tel Aviv University and St. Antony's College, Oxford, he has written widely on war crimes, interethnic relations, and genocide. His most recent book is Genocide, The Holocaust and Israel-Palestine: First-Person History in Times of Crisis (2023).
Since that time, the Holocaust has played an increasing role in Israeli self-perception and political rhetoric. Ironically, just as the numbers of those who survived the hell of Nazism progressively diminished, so the importance of the Shoah in Israeli public life grew. By now, the conflict with the Palestinians, or rather the various forms of rule by 7,000,000 Jews over 7,000,000 Palestinians, can only be seen through the distorting lens of a historical event that has little connection to the reality of occupation and oppression. And yet, the Holocaust continues to play a major role both in excusing the occupation as an essential bulwark against another Holocaust, and—as was the reality in Israel for several decades until October 7—in keeping the occupation hidden from view behind a complex of separation walls, fences, and bypass roads. In this manner, undemocratic and oppressive rule over the other half of the population was repressed as unrelated to a progressive, prosperous, Western-oriented Jewish Israel.
Eventually, the clarifying catastrophe of the Holocaust became, for most Israelis, a vast and ugly fig leaf, whose combined effect was a lamentable combination of self-victimization and self-pity with self-righteousness, hubris, and power-driven euphoria, whereby one side of the equation justified the other. Ethical concerns and moral qualms were brushed aside as either marginal or distracting in the face of the ultimate cataclysm that is the genocide of the Jews. What had been for long the “never again” syndrome thus became its exact opposite—the “again and again” syndrome, an internalized, irrational, and misleading terror of another Holocaust, always lurking around the corner, from which one can liberate oneself only by lashing out, pushing down, breaking in, and blowing up, both one’s own doubts and unease, and any real or perceived external threat. This is not a mental condition or a historical conception that is conducive to tolerance, understanding, moderation, and reconciliation.
To be sure, there were always other forces in Israeli society that worked against this so-called Holocaust-ism, or Shoah-tiyut, arguing that the growing prevalence of Holocaust paranoia and fears of universal antisemitism were bringing about precisely what they sought to forestall, namely, growing resistance from the people whose lands are occupied and growing disenchantment with Israel by its greatest foreign supporters. But even those more liberal forces in Israel never entirely liberated themselves from that constitutive Holocaust mentality, as can be seen after October 7 with what has been called the “sobering up” of the Israeli Left. Thus, we repeatedly hear about the Left’s “realization” that contrary to its hopes, it has turned out that the Palestinians really do want to perpetrate another Holocaust on Israel. Consequently, Israelis have no choice but to do all it takes to protect themselves regardless of what the rest of the world says.
This mentality has been cultivated by Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and his successive governments for decades. It was under his guidance that the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance (IHRA) definition of antisemitism was pushed by Israeli representatives around the world, making criticism of Israeli policies tantamount to antisemitism and antisemitism tantamount to genocidal intent—part and parcel of the Palestinian struggle against the Israeli occupation. The aggressively critical responses we hear today in Germany, France, Britain, and the United States directed toward those calling to put an end not only to the slaughter in Gaza but also to the entire apparatus of occupation testify to the success of Netanyahu’s rhetoric, which presents resistance to occupation as genocidal, and illegal settlement as a just Jewish response to past and future Holocausts.
The abuse of terminology has therefore become a tool of policy and an instrument of obfuscation and propaganda. It is for this reason that we, as scholars dedicated to truth, justice, and transparency, must insist on what we mean when we use such terms, and expose those who intentionally, or out of ignorance, misuse them. Indeed, only by clarifying our terms can we begin moving toward resolving this crisis and opening the path for political reconciliation and justice for all. Yet this is far more difficult than one might think.
Here is one recent example: on February 14, 2024, the Van Leer Institute in Jerusalem hosted a symposium titled “The Hague: Gaza, Us, and the World” (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q4c_LNHRvx0&t=1s). The keynote speech was delivered by Professor Eyal Benvenisti, the Whewell Professor of International Law at Cambridge University and Director of the Lauterpacht Centre for International Law. Hersch Lauterpacht had defined the term “crimes against humanity” as the extermination of civilian populations as individual human beings. At around the same time, Raphael Lemkin, who came from a similar East European Jewish background, coined the term genocide as the intent to destroy ethnic, national, or religious groups, as such (Philippe Sands, East West Street: On the Origins of Crimes Against Humanity and Genocide [New York: Knopf, 2016]). The discussion at the Van Leer Institute focused on the implications of South Africa’s referral of Israel to the International Court of Justice (ICJ) on suspicion of perpetrating genocide.
Interestingly, despite his scholarly credentials, Benvenisti made rather loose use of the terms genocide and antisemitism. As he put it, South Africa’s action was not motivated by a desire to stop the war in Gaza but rather intended “to exploit the international stage in order to deny the legitimacy of the Jewish state” and to “undermine the deep connection between the existence of the state as resurrection following the attempt to exterminate its people.” For that reason, he agreed with the Israeli defense team’s description of South Africa’s filing as a “blood libel,” thereby linking it directly to the deepest wells of European antisemitism. Indeed, Benvenisti stated unambiguously that “the criticism against us . . . is partly driven by antisemitic motivation.”
Conversely, in Benvenisti’s view, the “terrible massacre, the genocide carried out by Hamas on the Black Sabbath and the crimes it committed . . . indeed fit the definition of genocide.” Asked about this statement in the discussion, Benvenisti reiterated that to his mind “people had been killed and slaughtered in a terrible manner because they were members of a group and only for that reason. This is the definition of genocide according to the convention.”
I cite Benvenisti’s statements because they demonstrate that even among experts of the very terms in question other factors tend to intervene when discussing issues involving their own worldview and sentiments. Benvenisti provided no proof whatsoever that either South Africa or the ICJ was motivated by antisemitism, but simply asserted the fact, to the general agreement of his almost exclusively Jewish Israeli audience. To those present, apart from the Palestinian Professor of Law Raef Zreik, who raised some questions about these assertions, this was obvious. Similarly, Benvenisti’s assertion that the Hamas attack was genocidal was stated without any perceived need for proof. The fact, for instance, that Hamas militants also massacred Bedouin and Filipino workers, who clearly pointed out to them that they were not Jews, was not considered. Nor did Benvenisti entertain the possibility of categorizing the Hamas attack as a war crime or a crime against humanity. Simultaneously, he insisted that even the suspicion that Israel’s actions in Gaza, costing the lives of over 30,000 people, including over 10,000 children, might be criminal, was clearly antisemitic.
I could similarly cite numerous statements around the world accusing Israel of genocide even before the IDF operation in Gaza began, indicating both an expectation of mass violence—which was not unwarranted—and in some cases an understanding of Israeli policies against Palestinians as a priori genocidal. There is also no need here to retrace the multiple groundless allegations of antisemitism against university presidents and professors, the vicious attacks against both Muslims and Jews on campuses and elsewhere, and the deafening silence by so many mainstream and knowledgeable experts and public figures, who for fear of being labeled one way or another are leaving the field open to extremists and thereby contributing to the polarization they oppose.
As I see it, what we need now is clarity and purpose. Terminology should be applied precisely, as a tool to understanding and defining events rather than as an instrument of politics. The purpose of such clarity must be finding a way out of the chaos. This is not the place to outline in detail what I have in mind. But several issues must be stated outright. First, violence cannot resolve this conflict. Second, the notion that Israel can manage the Palestinian issue by shoving it under the rug can no longer be entertained. The 14 million people living between the river and the sea must be offered a way to coexist in peace, justice, and dignity. Third, the political leaders on both sides, and their policies, have been deeply discredited and must be replaced. Fourth, only massive international intervention and commitment, especially but not exclusively by the United States, can begin pushing both sides toward changing the political paradigm of the last few decades toward seeking reconciliation. Providing a political horizon of sharing the land will change the current reality as well.
Finally, if we are to take seriously the postwar slogan “never again,” this is the moment to do so. It is already too late for tens of thousands of innocents. It is time to pull back from the abyss and do everything in our power as scholars, students, and citizens to convince our governments to compel the warring sides to stop the killing and bring peace to the region and its peoples.
Omer Bartov is the Samuel Pisar Professor of Holocaust and Genocide Studies at Brown University. Born in Israel and educated at Tel Aviv University and St. Antony's College, Oxford, he has written widely on war crimes, interethnic relations, and genocide. His most recent book is Genocide, The Holocaust and Israel-Palestine: First-Person History in Times of Crisis (2023).