When Home No Longer Feels Like Home

“Once, there was a way to get back home…”

Golden Slumbers, The Beatles, 1969

Our roots and upbringing profoundly affect us.

What shapes these feelings?

And what happens when those ties begin to fray?

Personally, I harboured strong feelings for my home turf in North-West England. What’s not to love? The weather is delightfully miserable. The gritty cheerfulness of the locals is unparalleled. And nothing beats a pint of bitter in a cosily run-down and stuffy Joseph Holt pub.

Whilst studying for my degree in London, I remember counting down the days until reading week and winter break. Not just to come home and see family. Returning ‘Oop North’ conjured up memories of caricature beaming cafe waitresses, and afternoon trips out into the endless hills of overcast countryside.  It seemed a corner of the world that would timelessly spell comfort, peace, and home.

Last month, I saw this:

The thick Yorkshire accents are unmistakable. A group of older women patrols the aisles of a Tesco in Sheffield. Their catchy jingle warns shoppers about the perils of buying “Israeli Dates” on account of the “genocide goin’ on.”

Now, I’m no stranger to displays of anti-Israel sentiment.  I’ve seen far worse on campus. Standing up for Israel at UCL, I endured rancour that on one memorable occasion amounted to a fellow student branding me a “white supremacist.”

Par for the course these days. Scenes emerging two months ago of the Czech Foreign Minister forced from my alma mater are unsurprising.

Of course, I feel it for the UCL School of Slavonic and Eastern European Studies. Pro-Palestine students ruined their event. There is a great deal to say about free speech as well.

But this routine is drearily predictable: a small contingent—primarily from Arab backgrounds—making noise about the conflict. Supplementing these are idealistic students, eager to wave flags and uninterested in exploring the genuine complexities of the situation. They wouldn’t be the first group of young people to see the world in black and white.

However, the anti-Israeli produce brigade in Sheffield seems to be cut from a different cloth.

Let’s start with the age difference. Might these venerable ladies not take a more nuanced view before branding the Jewish state genocidal? It is one thing for a hot-headed student to claim Israeli leaders are all pathological liars. It is quite another for respectable Middle England to ignore repeated assertions by statesmen across the Israel’s political spectrum and even the UK Prime Minister himself, that this war’s target is eliminating the menace to Israel of terror groups in Gaza- not a genocidal agenda.

It is true that these ladies are not threatening anyone. They do not bristle with rage like the young people screaming at the Czech Foreign Minister. Somehow though, the benign veneer makes it worse.

The benign veneer that for me had once spelled home.

As I look askance at this supermarket parade a few miles from my childhood home, several thoughts cross my mind. Their lives are so far-removed from the Middle East’s bearpit. How can their softly chanted half-truths resonate with anyone?

True, the reaction to a media stream of human suffering is understandable.

But the indifference to Hamas’ relentless rocket attacks is not. Nor the harrowing events of October 7th.  Have they spared a thought for our hostages? Do they care? Could they for once identify with the security challenges of life in Israel?

Evidently, I should stop being so maudlin. The Palestinian cause permeates political and social issues across the board.

At surface level, this is an outgrowth of the UK’s increasing Muslim population, the influence of social media, and a polarising political discourse .

But I see something deeper as well.

As early as the 1600s, Spinoza wrote about antisemitism reaffirming Jewish identity. Three centuries later, Jean-Paul Sartre’s Anti-Semite and the Jew echoed this sentiment: “I’m a Jew because the antisemite reminds me that I am.”

Are these Yorkshire women reminding me about my own internal identity?

I could dissect every issue they raise: the “stolen and occupied” territory, the “land bulldozed”, and “farms destroyed”.

I could say that Israel bulldozes illegal settlements of Jews and Palestinians alike. I could say that Palestinians had been told not to plant near the Gaza border because of the potential security risk, particularly post-October 7th. I could say that Israel leaving the West Bank would have dire security implications.

Ultimately however, this is not about facts alone. The bloody-minded insistence of people from all walks of life reducing complex realities to sound bites and slogans is not just a consequence of social media echo chambers.

Call it the mutating virus of anti-Semitism, call it a warning from Above- there’s something beyond the consciousness of the Pro-Palestine front that reminds Jews to take those rose-tinted glasses for a polish. To remember that our upbringing is doubtless imbued with well-placed nostalgia and meaning. But ultimately, the pattern of history suggests it will prove just another stopover.

Certainly, our homes imparts value, but part of appreciating that value is a recognition of the transient nature of its embrace.

In turn, this can evoke greater appreciation for the gift of Jewish sovereignty and the impetus to fortify its existence.