I was, in fact, highly anxious about posting this for three distinct reasons.
Firstly, the Irish language community, which leans nationalist, has proven to have a vicious antisemitism problem since October 7th. I knew there would be backlash and that it would be nasty. So it goes and predictably so it has indeed gone. Calls for ‘standing with Comhar’ for their right to *checks notes* put a symbol of Jewish identity on barbed wire, which evokes clear and offensive Holocaust imagery.
Interestingly, there is strong historical basis for antisemitism in Irish cultural movements, which includes the Irish language community. The Gaeilgeoir who alerted me of the cover below, is conducting research into the history of antisemitism within Irish cultural nationalism, and why it is relevant for understanding contemporary Irish antisemitism. I attended her illuminating talk at the
@centre_as conference on contemporary antisemitism a few months ago entitled: ‘Nailing a Lie: antisemitism in Irish cultural nationalism’. I was stunned by the scope of antisemitism she uncovered and and was stunned this week to see this image in ‘Comhar’ that echoed so strongly the antisemitic language historically present in ‘Conradh na Gaeilge’, another Irish language publication and one that her work focuses on.
Secondly, I love Gaeilge. Growing up I often felt as if I was not Irish enough; I had an unusual surname and was bullied for unusual features, namely my thick eyebrows. When I went to the Gaeltacht as a teen and became immersed in the language, I felt home. Languages doesn’t care what your name is, all that matters is your willingness to learn them and your openness to appreciating the unique lens with which each one lets you see the world through. Acquiring the Irish language gives you a lens through which you can navigating the world embracing your Irish identity to its fullest extent.
Drawing light to the antisemitism in an Irish language paper therefore brings me no joy whatsoever, especially knowing the wrath it will incur from a community that once felt like home.
Thirdly, the Irish language is having a renaissance. Academics working on the Irish language are doing remarkable work, as are talented filmmakers and young, enthusiastic Irish language content creators. For Gaeilge to be politicised and stigmatised at this critical moment when we are seeing a renewed interest and passion for the language, would be disastrous. This is what I perceive as happening with Kneecap: they are connecting the Irish language with hatred, extremism, and open support for terrorist organisations.
The damage this could cause to the language, at this critical juncture where significant revitalisation is possible, should not be underestimated. Any discourse that fuels division within the Irish language community at this time I don’t want to be a part of.
However, the Irish language belongs to Jews in this country just as much as it belongs to anyone else. A blatantly antisemitic cover such as this sends a very clear message to them: the language is not yours. And that is unacceptable.
In order for the Irish language to thrive, as Hebrew did, the Irish language community must ensure that Irish language resources embody principles of inclusivity, respect, and human dignity for all. Including Jews.
The July cover for Irish language magazine ‘Comhar’. Note the Stars of David on the barbed wire.
This magazine is government funded.
Anyone who denies that there is an institutional antisemitism problem in Ireland is either ignorant or intentionally lying to you.