Being extremely online is pushing us to extremes
BY SARAH BARMAK ILLUSTRATION BY JAN FEINDT FOR THE CJN D uring a deadly, divisive war, every- thing is political. Especially a war that is livecast 24/7 around the world, on every screen and device.
showing our unconditional support; at the very same time, we have faced mounting calls to disavow its actions, and even the idea of Israel itself. There are extreme examples. A single Jewish mother I know who sympathiz- es with Palestinians has family who de- manded she post her support of Israel on social media, threatening to distance themselves and cut off much-needed fi- nancial aid if she did not. Not posting at all about the issue was unacceptable. Her silence, to them, meant a betrayal of family and turning away from a homeland that was under terrorist attack. Their pressure, to her, meant she feels she has lost both her family and her ability to speak. Anti-war Jews have had to defend their sentiments to other Jews, expected to fur- nish statistics and arguments on demand, both online and off. They have been asked for detailed answers to, “Well, what should Israel do? Let Hamas go?” Jews who back the current war have found themselves in precisely the same situation. Just about all of us could expect to be approached anytime, anywhere with huge questions. “Can you two tell me what the f--- is go- ing on?” one pal asked me and a Chris- tian-Lebanese friend at a party in Novem- ber. It wasn’t the last time we were asked for answers that night. I didn’t know WTF was going on myself. Silence online risked signalling other things. There lurked an uncomfortable awareness that not talking or posting about the conflict might speak volumes in ways that non-Jews’ silence did not. To Zionist family members, it could mean betrayal. To friends or colleagues outraged by the mass killings of Palestinian children, it could mean implicit support of Israel’s bombs. And to them, conversely, any opposition to Israel
Alongside the overwhelming nature of the October 7 Hamas attack on Israel and Israel’s subsequent onslaught in Gaza, the always-online era has pushed almost all of us into a politicized realm with a newfound intensity. Amid the flood of traumatic im- ages and news spurring anger and grief, the performative nature of online culture has demanded we each know who is right, and that we always post the right take. This has always been true on the internet. But in the past year, it’s been all-encompassing. This shift has taken on a heightened mean- ing for diaspora Jews. We have all been drawn into the obsessive political realm in ways I’ve never seen. Friends, old university colleagues and family who rarely so much as mentioned Israel before have spent the past year religiously watching, posting, weep- ing, and arguing almost daily. The diaspora may or may not be directly involved in the Israel-Palestine conflict, but we have been implicated by Israel’s designation of itself as the homeland for all Jewish people. With Jewish communities torn across ideological lines—Zionist and anti-Zionist, anti-cease- fire and pro-ceasefire—we have burned with grief, fear, passion, anger, and hatred. Some of us have drifted in the middle, conflicted or confused about what to believe. But we have posted anyway. It felt strange not to. Feeling compelled to engage has been both organic—it feels wrong to be neutral in a situation of injustice—and amplified by multiple social pressures. Nearly all of us in the Canadian Jewish community have, or have family or friends with, deep emotional ties to the State of Israel. Many of us have felt coerced, implicitly or explicitly, into
from Jewish sources carried more weight. Of course, online speech about Israel has always been incredibly fraught, but this has boiled over in new ways. Over the past year, far too many people—particularly people of colour, and particularly anyone who is Mid- dle Eastern—have lost their jobs or been labelled antisemitic for criticizing Israel in any way. Zionist Jews (and sometimes those presumed to be Zionist because Jews) have also lost work, had public appearances can- celled, and been unceremoniously removed from theatre and gallery schedules. That many of us have been forced to reck- on with a disastrous 75-year-long conflict is not a bad thing. Social media has been rightfully lauded for giving a voice to those who wouldn’t normally have an outlet. And some of us in the diaspora have had the lux- ury of being apolitical for too long. Much of this new engagement has been an awakening. It has been remarkable to see
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