Finding Right-Wing Jews in History

Jews are often stereotyped as uniformly—almost naturally—left-wing, a perception which the Substack writer “William” has done excellent work to combat. The stereotype leads to resentment from certain irascible segments of the right, but it’s also inherently distasteful to right-wing Jews like me. Moreover, Jewish involvement in right-wing politics is a delightfully fascinating phenomenon, whether in history or in current affairs. Let’s look at some examples of it, past and present.

Historian Philipp Nielsen has provided a valuable resource on the subject in the form of his monograph Between Heimat and Hatred: Jews and the Right in Germany 1871-1935. The volume describes a number of noteworthy Jewish right-wingers in the Germany of that time. One such individual was Gershom Scholem’s brother, Reinhold Scholem, who joined the right-of-centre German People’s Party (DVP).

Also enlightening is Nielsen’s conversation on the subject with fellow historian Jay Geller. In that talk, Nielsen notes that the phenomenon studied in his book was one of a minority: during the Weimar Republic, only some 5-10% of German Jews voted for right-of-centre parties.

However, one must ask why this was the case. A major reason seems to have been the antisemitism that permeated much of the German right. Geller notes that even the right-liberal German People’s Party, to which Reinhold Scholem belonged, was “ambivalent about the fight against antisemitism,” leading the historian to ask “what motivated” Scholem to do so. (His answer has to do with “class consciousness,” hostility to Marxism and Reinhold’s experience during the First World War.)

Moreover, it seems that radical leftism was more taboo within the Jewish community than were right-wing affiliations, despite the antisemitism widespread on the right. Nielsen and Geller remark that antisemitism was not common within the communist party. Nonetheless, Geller comments that “so-called national-liberal Jews, such as Reinhold, […] were not beyond the pale or outside the tent of the community the way, say, Werner Scholem, the communist brother, was.”

Nielsen makes clear in his book that the level of right-wing Jewish activity in Weimar Germany has traditionally been understated. One reason for this is a lack of documentation, partly due to the deaths of many Jews under the Third Reich. Such problems, he writes, may be especially serious when it comes to “a group of Jews whose German loyalties made them even less prepared ideologically to emigrate, and who after the Holocaust had little reason to talk about their pre-war politics.” Moreover, the shortage of available documents combined with the shew in historians’ interests has limited our knowledge of right-wing Jews in Weimar Germany, as reflected in the fact that “we know of Reinhold Scholem only through Gershom Scholem.” And while Franz Rosenzweig is often classed with Scholem and Walter Benjamin as a major Jewish intellectual and philosopher, his politics, unlike theirs, are not commonly mentioned. “Rosenzweig,” clarifies Nielsen, “was an ardent German imperialist and royalist.”

Incidentally, Nielsen and Geller mention that religious orthodoxy was associated with political conservatism in Weimar Germany. Some things never change, I suppose.

Also enlightening is Vladimir Levin’s article “Russian Jews and the Russian Right: Why Were There No Jewish Right-Wing Politics in the Late Russian Empire?” The content of this essay shows that its title is not exactly correct: there was substantial right-wing Jewish activity in the Russian Empire, just no prominent right-wing Jewish organisations.

Here, too, the practicalities of historical investigation have led the phenomenon of right-wing Jews to be understated. As Levin explains, “political activities were outlawed” as of 1905. Since “loyalists” tended to accept this prohibition, revolutionaries were far more likely to leave behind documentation that can be used by researchers. In 1881, after revolutionaries killed Czar Alexander II, an organization called the Holy Brotherhood was founded with the aim of foiling any future attempt to assassinate a monarch. Notably, Levin mentions that Horace Gintsburg, “who could rightfully be called ‘the spokesman’ of Russian Jewry,” may have belonged to the Brotherhood. As a successful (Jewish) businessman, notes Levin, Gintsburg was part of a group that tended to be conservative. By adding up bourgeois Jews and those who worked in “religious services,” the author estimates that the number of Jews who held conservative attitudes was “comparable” to the highest-ever total membership of Jewish revolutionary parties in the Empire.

The overall impression one gets from Levin’s article is that the level of Jewish support for right-wing ideology was impressive given the circumstances. “The option to join right-wing organizations was almost nonexistent for Jews in Russia since all right-wing monarchist organizations explicitly prohibited Jews and baptized Jews from entering their ranks,” the sole potential exception being the Union of October 17. Yet while the Union was loyalist, Levin does not consider it truly right-wing due to its liberalism, and even this party frequently lent its support to anti-Jewish legislation. When an ill-fated Jewish conservative party was founded, the press was quick to allege ulterior motives.

Orthodox religiosity was frequently a basis for conservative and royalist attitudes among Russian Jews. During the first decade of the twentieth century, “countless texts produced by leading rabbis [contended] that […] Judaism demanded loyalty to the tsar and the state.” Strikingly, one Russian Jew stated in 1923 that “9 out of 10 Jews miss[ed] the tsar.”

But again, relations between the Empire’s Jews and right-wing movements was defined by the latter’s antisemitism; even during the Russian Civil War, Jews were not permitted to join the White Army.

Obviously, a commonality between the German and Russian cases is that Jewish involvement in right-wing causes was much suppressed by the pervasive antisemitism on the right. This dovetails with philosopher Nathan Cofnas’s observation that Jewish intellectuals, and especially Margherita Sarfatti, were instrumental in formulating Italian fascism—which, of course, came back to bite them when Mussolini absorbed antisemitism through his partnership with the Nazis. To Cofnas, this is evidence for the broader point that, “[h]istorically, Jews have been heavily involved in the leadership of nationalist movements when they were welcomed.”

It’s always pleasant to see right-wing Jews represented in historical accounts (although some of the examples above are not exactly up my alley). Here’s another tidbit: Michel Houellebecq reckons that Robert Bloch was the only one of H. P. Lovecraft’s literary disciples who later used his own fiction to convey reactionary opinions similar to Lovecraft’s. Edward Shils, I think, was one of the United States’ great traditionalist thinkers—his book Tradition was praised as “the first comprehensive treatment of the subject” and “a landmark analytical and theoretical sociological study.” And, of course, there were the Jewish neocons. I have argued before that neoconservatism is not particularly Jewish in character, but it is true that many Jews contributed to it (for reasons also discussed in my earlier post).

“Neoconservatism” has become a dirty word since the early 2000s, especially among those edgy conservatives who style themselves as rebels against the establishment, many of whom march under the banner of “post-liberalism.” However, Oliver Wiseman persuasively argues that “whether the post-liberals realise it or not, [neoconservatives] are the closest thing they have to intellectual predecessors.” Other writers, like Fred Bauer, have advanced similar genealogies.

Other examples of influential right-wing Jews could be listed. Israeli political scientist Yoram Hazony is the leading figure behind today’s “national conservatism,” and the “neoreactionary” movement was started by half-Jewish Curtis Yarvin.

It is true, to be sure, that most American Jews today lean left (71% as of 2020). At least two subgroups, though, are mostly right-wing: Orthodox Jews (75% as of 2020) and Russian-speaking Jews (60-70% as of 2016; one author notes that Russian-speaking Jews lean right across “nearly all countries” where they are found). Each of these accounts for about 10% of the total community. However, the Orthodox share has risen to 17% among eighteen-to-twenty-nine-year-olds. This is consistent with Cofnas’s position that Orthodox and right-wingers are likely to become a bigger part of American Jewry over time (“In 2012, 74 per cent of all Jewish children in New York City were orthodox, and by now the percentage is certainly higher.”).