4D Test of Antisemitism
Double Standards–Delegitimisation–Demonisation–Date
The date – long since more than just the sweet sugar bomb of the Middle East – is revealing itself as a political barometer.
Who hasn’t stood in the supermarket in front of the shelf, a pack of dates in hand, squinting to decipher the minuscule print of the country of origin? Sometimes it’s printed openly, sometimes hidden behind a pixelated QR code, as if its origin were better kept secret.
In times of numerous boycott calls, presumably sparked by the free democratic will for progress, the question “Israeli date or not?” is a hot one. Or whether the offer is restricted solely to dates from Egypt, Saudi Arabia, Iran, Iraq, the United Arab Emirates, Algeria, Tunisia, and Morocco, where the date palm is also called home and whose sweet, golden, caramel-colored fruit is surely grown and harvested under perfectly fair working conditions.
Connoisseurs know: dates differ not only in price, but in size, freshness, flesh texture, and skin thickness. The latter should not behave like so-called eco-plastic bags that are allegedly water-soluble but in the end only crumble into micro-particles and cling stubbornly to the roof of your mouth.
After a weekend shop in a Frankfurt fish store – cod, salmon, perch, all innocently destined for a Portuguese fish dish for Passover – I glance at the store’s reviews. One reviewer, a sporty cyclist who, according to search results, once pedalled from Mannheim to London, is outraged that the Turkish supermarket sells “Shlomo dates.”
His demand: immediate action, or sanctions will follow.
Does my supermarket continue to uphold integrity, stick to the repeatedly promised free world economy, and orient itself, as in science, toward perhaps quality-based objectivity? Or are double standards in play?
The politicised date thus once again commands my full attention. My path leads me to the German capital – not only for the date, but if the opportunity presents itself, why not? After all, in Berlin, ever since the day of unconditional surrender, the so-called “Day of Liberation,” there’s been an effort and passionate debate on how one wishes to position oneself toward the past: politically, diplomatically, and sustainably.
In a supermarket in a district that, at least since German reunification, has billed itself as “up-and-coming” but has yet to rise, I discover a wide variety of dates – surely there are even dates from Sudan here – but none from Israel.
Convinced of my theory, the next day I visit an organic members-only supermarket, where plastic and micro-particles are allegedly strictly banned, but like in a political coalition, still manage to hide everywhere. Wool socks in the assortment and zinc-based but aluminium-free (and thus almost useless) cream deodorants sit alongside green tea, which I love – and which I could never buy again should my suspicion of Israel-related antisemitism prove correct.
In front of me lie three packs of dates: two large, one small, practically pocket-sized for on-the-go snacking. The Israeli date is there – mazel! – but so are some from Mexico!
The decision-making feels a bit like choosing between Uganda and Cyprus.
In the end, I go for Mexico!
