A popular proverb says that a half-truth is a whole lie. The latest episode of SVT’s Utrikesbyrån about Hamas was a good example of that. That does not mean it wasn’t interesting. It was. Nor is there any doubt that the three participants — former Prime Minister Stefan Löfven, political scientist Marco Nilsson and Middle East analyst Bitte Hammargren — knew what they were talking about. But when it came to the analysis of Hamas, we were given only a half-truth.
The questions the presenter Rebecca Randhawa asked were: what is left of Hamas, will they lay down their arms, and who will govern Gaza. The first and the third questions are almost impossible to answer. Even Israeli intelligence does not know what remains of Hamas’s military capability, and Gaza’s future governance depends on a complicated geopolitical process. The second question, however, can be answered based on a deep understanding of what Hamas is, the choices it has made in the past, and what its ideological and political DNA is.
According to Löfven, Hamas’s power is the result of a paradox. Despite being one of Israel’s greatest enemies, its power originated with Israel’s political leadership. “Such an organization receives support (from Qatar, for example) simply because Israel wants to avoid the Palestinian Authority (PA) gaining any power.” Hammargren agreed and said that Hamas was a political asset for Israel. “Netanyahu’s line was that by letting Hamas grow in Gaza we don’t have to hear about a Palestinian statehood,” she said. This is a common analysis and it is partly true. Netanyahu and other Israeli leaders do indeed oppose a two-state solution. Because of this, his strategy was to weaken the PA, and many argue that one of the ways he did this was by allowing Hamas to grow. But this is only half the truth.
The other half, and the real reason Hamas rose to power and was able to retain it, is much simpler. The source of Hamas’s power is support from large parts of the Palestinian people. Even now, after two years of destruction and death that are a direct consequence of Hamas’s decision to massacre Israeli civilians on October 7, 2023, Hamas is still supported by many Palestinians. The international support from Qatar and Iran that Löfven and Hammargren mentioned is also not hard to understand. Iran’s regime has a long-term goal of eliminating “the Zionist entity,” and Qatar built its international position on supporting its ideological Muslim Brotherhood allies. Sure, Netanyahu miscalculated Hamas’s capacity and misread its intentions, but it was not he who made Hamas’s ideology popular, and it was not he who turned Qatar and Iran into dangerous regional destabilizing powers.
But where is Hamas heading? Utrikesbyrån’s two-and-a-half-minute clip tried to provide background. According to the clip, “Hamas removed the demand that Israel be destroyed, but still does not recognize the state of Israel.” This is not even a half-truth. Hamas is absolutely committed to the destruction of Israel. Yes, it created a new charter for foreign audiences, because the old document contained antisemitic propaganda that was not particularly popular on university campuses and in some Western circles. But even the new charter demands “all of Palestine” from the river to the sea, it does not accept the Oslo Accords or the two-state solution, and it still endorses “armed resistance,” which has been a decisive part of Hamas’s nature long before October 7. That includes blowing up buses and restaurants full of civilians as well as kidnapping, torturing and murdering Jews of all ages, genders and backgrounds. One interesting thing Utrikesbyrån did not mention is that Hamas activists have on several occasions been arrested in Europe for planning attacks on “Jewish targets.” Worth mentioning if anyone took the “new charter” seriously.
Despite (or perhaps because of) the violence, Hamas won the Palestinian elections in 2006 in both the West Bank and Gaza. Palestinians are not blind or politically incapable — they knew exactly what they were voting for. According to Utrikesbyrån’s experts, Netanyahu could have fought Hamas by strengthening the PA. It’s an interesting theory. Only problem is that it’s not true. Not during the years when Hamas was building its reign of terror, anyway. The reasons are that Netanyahu was not Israel’s prime minister at that time. Between 1999 and 2009 the prime ministers of Israel were Ehud Barak, Ariel Sharon and Ehud Olmert. The first was an outspoken advocate for a two-state solution, the second ended the occupation of Gaza, and the third was probably the one who offered the PA the most generous territorial compromise. Hamas was not impressed. It continued to build the fundamentalist, jihadist, genocidal faction within the Palestinian nationalist movement. Hamas did not need Netanyahu for this. It was fully capable of doing it on its own, while many Israelis were still considering peace and reconciliation.
Utrikesbyrån downplayed all of this. In the program there were no blown-up buses, no tunnels, rockets, high-tech international propaganda campaigns or brutal executions of Palestinian “collaborators.” October 7 was only mentioned in passing, as another point on the timeline. No hostages, no burned neighborhoods, no executed families. This is not a complaint that they “forgot October 7,” but a critique of incomplete analysis. How can one answer the question about Hamas’s intentions without taking into account that the organization recruited thousands of people who were willing not only to kill but also to commit gang rapes and sexualized torture in the name of Allah?
Netanyahu can and should be criticized for many things, but not for this. Sure, he did not destroy Hamas before October 7, and through his incompetence and corruption he may have contributed to the opposite. Israelis should hold him accountable for that. But this is far from the cause of the catastrophe. Hamas began building its advanced military capability long before Netanyahu, it remains standing, and many Palestinians still support it. Let us imagine that Netanyahu had decided to wipe out Hamas back in 2014. Now that we know that not even the destruction of Gaza did the job, would Stefan Löfven have supported an Israeli offensive on that scale? Would the Obama administration have allowed it? Would the UN have accepted it? Of course not. Everyone can complain about Netanyahu and everyone can criticize Hamas, but in the end — whose responsibility is it to eliminate Hamas, and who will support such an effort?
It is obvious that Stefan Löfven in no way supports Hamas. In Utrikesbyrån he spoke very clearly about the necessity of a political process with a reformed Palestinian Authority moving toward a two-state solution. But putting the blame for the situation on the Israeli government while ignoring Hamas’s inherently genocidal nature is a classic half-truth. It leads people to believe in conspiracy theories about secret Israeli involvement in the massacre of its own citizens, and more importantly — it shifts the focus to the wrong side. To reach a lasting ceasefire it would be wiser to focus on the “de‑Hamasification” of Gaza and support moderate forces on both sides that can help their communities recover from this two-year trauma and build a future together.
As politicians and dignitaries take part in Trondheim Synagogue's centennial celebrations later this month, for the city's small but growing Jewish population it has become a safe haven from post-October 7 antisemitism.
TRONDHEIM, Norway – When it comes to the attendance list, it's hard to imagine a more distinguished and high-ranking one in Norway. Prime Minister Jonas Gahr Støre will deliver a speech. Mayor of Trondheim Kent Ranum will be there along with other municipal leaders and senior representatives of the Norwegian government. The Royal Family will also be represented alongside leaders of Norwegian Jewish communities, several bishops and leaders of various Christian denominations, an imam and representatives from the Israeli and American embassies in Norway.
The occasion? The 100th anniversary of one of the northernmost synagogues in the world, the Trondheim Synagogue, which will take place on October 26. The synagogue serves the small Jewish community (numbering approximately 200) in Norway's third most populous city, positioned about 350 kilometers south of the Arctic Circle.
Trondheim Synagogue, 2025, photo: Martin Borg
"The events will include religious services, a concert featuring Edan Tamler, a well-known Israeli cantor, and a festive dinner for congregation members and visiting guests," says John Arne Moen, the chairman of the community. Moen, who's a retired journalist and editor, has been a member of the community's board since 2006 and now serves as chairman. "The event will also include a keynote address by Chief Rabbi of Norway, Michael Melchior, who has served as an Israeli government minister and MK (the community itself doesn't have its own permanent rabbi).
The story of Trondheim's Jews goes 150 years back. "The first Jews to arrive in Trondheim came from today's Lithuania and Poland via Sweden in the 1870s," says Moen. "At the end of World War I, there were about 340 Jews in Trondheim and in other towns in Western and Northern Norway. Unlike Jews who came to Oslo, many of whom came from Denmark and German speaking parts of Europe, these were poor immigrants who escaped pogroms and poverty in the Russian Empire."
Moen goes on to say, these Jews "didn't speak Danish or German, which were languages common for educated Norwegians at the time. Instead, they spoke Yiddish and Russian. They came from small shtetls and it must have been really hard for them to settle here. Most of them didn't even intend to stay. They wanted to go to America, and Trondheim was just a stop during which they hoped to make some money for the ship ticket. However, almost all of them ended up staying here."
"These immigrants mostly settled in an area close to the harbor, known for prostitution and poverty, and they transformed it into the only Jewish quarter in Norway. It became rich in Jewish cultural and religious life led by a rabbi who arrived in 1896 from Belarus. A synagogue was founded in a building borrowed and then bought from a Baptist church, and the small community had a women's organization and a Zionist youth organization," Moen says. "There were also unique challenges."
Moen is referring to Trondheim's geographic location. Because of its proximity to the Arctic Circle, the sun in Trondheim sets after 11 p.m. in the summer and before 3 p.m. in the winter. Naturally, this is a challenge for Orthodox Jews when it comes to determining when Shabbat and holidays start and end. "This has been an issue for many years," Moen says. "Rabbi Samuel Brandhändler – the first rabbi in Trondheim – decided to have set times for Shabbat during some weeks in the summer and some winter weeks. Later, in the 1920s, that became the practice year-round making Trondheim probably the only Orthodox Jewish community with set times for Shabbat."
Moen says that the golden age of the community was between the two world wars. It was then that the community moved into its current location – a building which was decommissioned as a train station, purchased by the Salvation Army and then bought by the Jewish community. After extensive renovation work, it was inaugurated in October 1925. The building became the center of Jewish life in Trondheim and it still is today. It serves not only as the synagogue, but also the Jewish community center and home to Jewish Museum Trondheim, the permanent exhibition of this unique community.
"As a museum, we communicate knowledge, we take care of the exhibits, we research and renew," says Agnete Eilersten, 40, who has been the museum's collection manager and curator for the last five years. "The people who come here are mostly school …children [ages] 13 to 18, but we also have [individual visitors] including students, tourists and Norwegians of all ages."
Walking around the museum, Eilersten points out the old ark and Torah scrolls from Trondheim's first synagogue, pictures of the first Jewish families, exhibits about Jewish traditions and an old mikveh (Jewish ritual purification bath) in the cellar. When asked why she was drawn to work at this particular museum Eilersten, who is not Jewish herself, speaks of her fascination with Norwegian-Jewish culture which has been "hidden in many ways." But it's also about combating antisemitism. "We try to counter antisemitism by disseminating knowledge and teaching people about Jewish history," she says, "we believe that more knowledge means less prejudice." And, of course, there's also the war. "It is very important to preserve the history of World War II," she says. "We need to [pass it on] to new generations."
In Norway, this attitude isn't a given. Norway's World War II legacy is complicated by the fact that many Norwegians supported and cooperated with the Nazis. As such, it has remained in the shadows for decades. The Nazis occupied Trondheim and the rest of Norway in 1940. A year later, they took over the synagogue which became barracks for German soldiers. "We think that the soldiers, who were probably drunk, lay in their beds and shot at the ceiling," says Moen, the synagogue chairman. "The building was heavily damaged and during those years more than half of the community's members were deported and murdered. No other Jewish community in the Nordic countries suffered more than Trondheim's."
On the eve of World War II, Norway had around 2,400 Jews, including a few hundred from other nationalities. When Germany invaded and occupied Norway in 1940, the Norwegian king and government fled the country forming a government-in-exile in London, while Norway was ruled by a Nazi official named Josef Terboven, who governed through a pro-Nazi puppet government headed by Vidkun Quisling, the leader of a Norwegian fascist party, Nasjonal Samling (The National Union), founded in 1933. The party cooperated with the Nazis in taking over the country, and in many cases Norwegian policemen, not German Nazis, were the ones who arrested and deported the Jews.
Persecution of the Jews began in 1941 with arrests, property confiscation and some executions on false charges. In 1942, mass arrests of hundreds of Jews were carried out. Most were transported on the SS Donau to Auschwitz. Another ship, the MS Gotenland, transported over 150 more to the same destination in February 1943. In total, 772 Norwegian Jews were arrested or deported. The oldest among them was 80 and the youngest an eight-week-old baby. Fewer than 40 came back. Those who survived had mostly escaped to neutral Sweden. When the war was over, they returned, and although they survived they were deeply traumatized. And even worse – they stood alone.
Irene Levin turned the hundreds of notes her mother left behind after her death into a book chronicling the story of Norwegian Jews during the Holocaust.
When Irene Levin's mother was 96, she left her apartment in Oslo and moved into a Jewish old age home. Levin and her two children wanted her mother's – and their grandmother's – new home to feel like a miniature version of the elegant, meticulously arranged apartment she had lived in for decades. To do so, they moved in the gilded-upholstered furniture, the paintings, the silverware, and the mirrors her mother never passed without briefly checking her reflection. As part of the process, they also cleaned and organized the apartment.
It took Levin more than five years to understand the significance of what she found during that process. "There were notes everywhere," she told Haaretz in an interview. "Some were hidden in piles of newspapers, other were tucked away in drawers, on shelves, and in cupboards. Some had only one or two sentences, others were full pages written in my mother's handwriting. Although they weren't dated, her handwriting showed they spanned different time periods – the 1960s, 70s and 80s.
"When I first found the notes, I didn't read them. They became just one more thing I would get to when I had time. For five years, they stayed enclosed in an envelope." Levin's mother, Fanny Raskow, died in 2013 at the age of 101. "After she passed away, and after I retired, I started reading the notes," Levin recalls. "Mostly the notes were about World War II, but also about her upbringing before the war in a family that had escaped to what is now Lithuania. There were many unfinished sentences, especially those dealing with the arrest and deportation of her father, my grandfather. It's unclear who the notes were meant for. Maybe she wrote for herself, as a way of venting, or perhaps she hoped I would eventually find them. But she never mentioned them".
Levin says the notes revealed the dilemmas and choices her mother faced. "My mother blamed herself all her life for not being able to save her father," she says. "It haunted her constantly, until the end of her life. In all my upbringing there was a silence, and the war was never discussed openly. If it came up, it was always indirectly or through broken, incomplete sentences." At a certain point, Levin realized that her mother's story was also the story of other Norwegian Jews. The result was her book, ("Vi snakket ikke om Holocaust. Mor, jeg og tausheten," Gyldendal, 2020, literally translated as "We Didn't Talk About the Holocaust: Mother, I, and the Silence"). The English version, titled "Everyday Silence and the Holocaust", was published by Routledge last year.
"My mother was trapped in a history that had been imposed on her, and one that for decades remained almost unspoken in Norwegian society," Levin says. "When I began researching in the National Archives of Norway in Oslo, I tried to see whether other Jewish families' stories were similar to that of my mother. I started asking new questions about my personal history and discovered experiences and events that had always been there, just not talked about.
"As a child, I simply acted on behaviors that seemed normal. As an adult – and as a professional – I began questioning my own story. Are the gaps in the stories significant? The fact that the life of our tiny nuclear family was defined by specific, historical events was something I simply knew. Just as one learns one's mother tongue intuitively, I learned about 'the war'. I lived my whole life in a community of World War II survivors, yet I still didn't really know much, despite believing I knew the whole story."
'What Happened to Our Jews?'
The story of Irene Levin is, to a great extent, the story of an entire generation of Norwegian Jews. Her grandparents' families emigrated to Norway around 1905 from Lithuania, fleeing poverty, hard conditions, and persecution. Levin explains that this migration differed from that of other Scandinavian countries. While Denmark and Sweden received "Ost-Juden" – Jews from Central Europe – there were already established Jewish communities in those countries. Some were prominent figures in society and openly identified as Jews. In Norway, by contrast, Jews were only permitted to enter starting in the mid-19th century. They were few in number, poor, and mostly uneducated.
Less than 40 years after her grandparents arrived in Norway, they and their children had to flee. This time, it was due to the German occupation during World War II, and their destination was Sweden, the neutral and thus safe neighboring country to the east. Levin's parents were among hundreds of Jews who left Norway as the Nazi persecution escalated, peaking in the fall of 1942 when hundreds of Norwegian Jews were deported to Auschwitz.
Levin's parents received help from a neighboring family, and their escape was aided by friends and members of the resistance movement, who hid them from the Gestapo and the Norwegian police in various locations. Their journey took 23 days. Levin's mother was pregnant during the escape, and she gave birth to Irene, her first and only child, in the Swedish town of Norrköping, where the family stayed until the war ended.
After the war, Levin, her mother, and father returned to Norway and began rebuilding their lives. She was less than two and a half years old and doesn't remember Liberation Day, but it's clear to her that even then, silence began to play a significant role. "We didn't talk about the war," she recalls. "The fact that the family went through a disaster was always present, but it wasn't spoken about. In the 1950s, when I was ten, we could be sitting with guests around the dinner table, and someone might suddenly say something like, 'It was Norwegian police who made the arrests, not the Germans.' And someone would reply, 'It doesn't matter, we're not getting them back either way.' Then the conversation would switch to the previous topic, and no one would ask, 'What do you mean?' Everyone knew what it meant, they just didn't talk about it for decades."
Did the silence begin right at the end of the war?
"You can tell from the Norwegian press how knowledge about what had happened slowly evolved. The free press resumed operations as early as May 14, 1945. On the second day, the country's largest newspaper, Aftenposten, asked, 'What happened to our Jews?' The article reported, 'There is reason to fear that many Norwegian Jews have died,' and quickly added that no confirmation had been received. In the weeks that followed, reports ended with phrases like, 'There is no reason to lose hope.' On May 17, the same newspaper reported, 'We have 750 Jews in Germany. So far, we've heard from only nine or ten.' Slowly, the news worsened, and by May 23, it was reported that the Jews had been taken to 'the notorious concentration camp Auschwitz.'
"After a while, the topic was no longer written about. It resurfaced in the trials of Norwegians who had collaborated with the Nazis, and in the court case of the Norwegian traitor Vidkun Quisling [a Nazi collaborator who headed the government of Norway during the country's occupation by Nazi Germany] where two survivors testified. One of them, the later well-known psychiatrist Leo Eitinger, told of Jews being gassed. When asked by the judge if Norwegian Jews were treated in the same way, he answered 'Yes, I swear to God.'"
The outcome of the war was catastrophic for Levin's family. Thirty-two members of her extended family, including her maternal grandfather, were murdered in Auschwitz. Her grandfather was deported along with hundreds of other Norwegians –men, women, and children – on November 26, 1942. Levin's mother tried to spare him by putting him in a hospital but he was taken from there, arrested and, the next day, loaded onto the ship SS Donau. After four days in its cargo hold, he and the others arrived in Stettin, where they were crammed into cattle cars. On December 1, they reached Auschwitz-Birkenau. Levin's grandfather's exact fate remains unknown. He was one of an endless number of victims who didn't survive and never returned to Norway.
The facts about World War II in Norway and the fate of its Jews are well-known. On the eve of the war, Norway had around 2,800,000 inhabitants, of whom about 2,400 were Jews, including around 500 from other nationalities. During World War I, Norway had remained neutral, and hoped to maintain neutrality again during World War II. But events took a different turn. A Norwegian fascist party, Nasjonal Samling (The National Union), founded in 1933 by officer and politician Vidkun Quisling, offered the Nazis cooperation in taking over the country. Germany invaded Norway and Denmark on April 9, 1940, in Operation Weserübung. Denmark surrendered within hours, while battles in Norway lasted around two months before the German victory, achieved after the Allied forces retreated and Narvik – a strategic port used for shipping iron ore from Sweden – was captured.
As the Germans occupied the country, the Norwegian king and government fled and formed a government-in-exile in London. Civilian rule in Norway was overtaken by Nazi official Josef Terboven, appointed Reichskommissar by Hitler. Terboven governed through a pro-German puppet government headed by Quisling. The Norwegian parliament was dissolved, all parties banned except Quisling's, and the judiciary was subordinated to German control.
Persecution of the Jews began with sporadic decrees early in the occupation. In 1941, arrests were made, property confiscated, and some Jews were executed on false charges. In 1942, mass arrests of hundreds of Jews were carried out, most of whom, including Levin's grandfather, were transported on the SS Donau to Auschwitz. Another ship, the MS Gotenland, transported 158 more Jews to the same destination in February 1943. In total, 772 Norwegian Jews were arrested or deported. The oldest among them 80, the youngest an 8-week-old baby. Fewer than 40 came back. Those who survived the war had mostly escaped to neutral Sweden or Britain.
The facts were known for decades, but their meaning has been the subject of public debate – one that Irene Levin, after publishing her book, is now central to. Levin is a professor emeritus of social sciences at Oslo Metropolitan University. Her work started in the area of family studies with emphasis on new family forms and gender studies. In recent years, she has moved her area of research into history and Holocaust studies and has been closely connected to the Norwegian Center for Holocaust and Minority Studies, including working with surveys on antisemitism. She has worked with Soviet Jewry and been active in applying for Norwegian non-Jews receiving the Righteous Among the Nations award, granted by Yad Vashem.
Her recent book adds to numerous other publications she's written or edited, covering topics from social sciences to remembrance, and the Holocaust in Norway.
Her new book generated considerable attention in Norway. Positive reviews appeared in major newspapers; she was interviewed by media and gave lectures across the country for over a year. Headlines focused on themes like "The Holocaust That Always Sat Within the Walls" or "The Mother Who Dealt with Trauma Through Silence." Critics noted that Levin "presents her family's history as a gateway to understanding the Jewish tragedy in Norway," "gives us a micro-history that opens wounds – with painful, terrifying details," and "breaks the silence, telling dramatic stories of fate."
Is the silence of the survivors and Norwegian society similar to that of survivors in other countries, or does it have unique characteristics?
"The phenomenon of silence is not unique, but circumstances vary. What's special about Norway is that it had a small number of Jews and geographically, with the long border with Sweden and the long coastline to England, one would think that it would be possible to hide more".
"Moreover, Norwegian Jews loved Norway. They learned the language and embraced the culture; they embraced the Norwegian love of nature and even changed their surnames to make them easier for their neighbors to pronounce. That's why what happened shocked them. They told themselves that they were arrested by the Gestapo – when, in fact, it was the Norwegian police.
"My mother always said: 'It took such a long time until we really understood, Irene.' Those who survived and returned weren't like the other Norwegians coming back after the war – the resistance fighters or political exiles. They weren't heroes. They won the war. The Jews had not won the war. They were deported or fled because of who they were, not what they did – and that came with a sense of shame. They asked themselves, 'What kind of Norwegians are we now?'"
Levin explains that other elements were involved. Some blamed themselves for failing to save relatives. They were grief-stricken, and many had to face the painful, often unsuccessful process of reclaiming seized property. Homes and businesses had been confiscated or auctioned off. Only in the 1990s, following a media campaign and the creation of a restitution committee, did Norwegian society begin to seriously reckon with the Holocaust. Survivors received compensation, and the Norwegian Center for Holocaust and Minority Studies was established.
"Until the 1990s, the story of the Jews was not integrated into the national historical narrative," Levin says. "It's not that people didn't know what happened – there were books and survivor testimonies – but Jews were not part of the main story. The Holocaust in Norway was like an appendix to Norwegian history, not part of the official narrative."
So, if the Holocaust wasn't part of Norway's war story, would it be accurate to say that Norway didn't take responsibility for what happened to its Jews?
"In three major historical books that shaped the narrative and were published in 1950, the extermination of the Jews was described merely as a 'detail'. Later, in the 1980s, six volumes titled 'Norway at War' asked: What happened to the Jews? The answer is mostly covered in the third volume, spanning 18 pages with photos. In the final section, the question is raised – could more have been done to help the Jews? could they have been warned about what deportation meant? the answer the book gives is that Jews in all occupied countries and even in the free world underestimated the cruelty of the SS. That is, responsibility was ultimately shifted to the Jews themselves – because they didn't resist arrest.
"When I first read these, I thought that they did the same as my mother, blaming herself for her father's arrest, as did society at large. Both the minority and the majority put the responsibility on the Jews. But I realized that when my mother blamed herself, she was taking the burden on herself, bearing the responsibility – as a Jewish woman and a daughter. When the author, as a representative of society, blamed the Jews, it was the opposite: it was the removal of responsibility."
Do you think this perspective still echoes in Norway in 2025, amid rising antisemitism and claims that Norwegian society is abandoning its Jews?
"For the Jews in Norway [the community numbers approximately 1,500 people], October 7 is an echo from the war, while knowing that it was not the same and that the Holocaust is unique. But Norwegian society at large did not hear the same echo. They only heard the voice from Hamas and very quickly defined the attack as a continuity of occupation.
"It was a shock that the empathy that the Jews in Norway had earned due their history during the war, suddenly disappeared. I never thought that during my lifetime, I would experience a rise of antisemitism. When researching the Holocaust and antisemitism, I was doing it as something belonging to the past to ensure it would not happen again. Suddenly, the Jewish state was attacked and its legitimacy was at stake. The Jewish voice has lost its legitimacy.
"My grandmother would always tell me: 'Die Juden sind schuldig' – the Jews are to blame, always. I thought that was relevant to the shtetl, not my everyday life. There is a shift in the perception of responsibility and legitimacy – the focus has changed, and it is no longer in our favor. I demonstrated on Women's Day and my fellow feminists didn't allow us to participate! They questioned whether there were even sexual assaults on October 7; and if they did accept that they happened, they minimized their significance, treating it as something that 'naturally' happens in every war.
"In my research on silence, an important factor is the interaction between the individual and society. After World War II, it was not only the Jews who were silent. The society at large was silent, too, but for different reasons. The space the minority has is shaped by the majority. It took Norwegian society 50 years before it recognized its responsibility in the atrocities. In the current situation, the Jewish voice has little legitimacy and the connection with society at large is of distrust. But can we Jews wait for the society to show us such a space? We have to take it. In that sense, it's like a revolution."
At the end of the interview, Levin returns to the topic of silence, which she sees as the common thread between the biographical and the historical. It's a silence shared by many survivors of the war, but Levin suggests that it is an even broader phenomenon.
"If you had asked me about the Holocaust while I was growing up – if you had asked me whether I knew about the war and what happened to the Jews – I would have said yes," she says. "But today I know that I didn't know. I didn't have the details; I didn't know what really happened. What I had was a sense that a catastrophe had occurred, and that it had happened to the Jews. Nothing more.
"And maybe that's similar to other disasters, like what happened on October 7. Even though information spreads much faster today, the feeling is similar. We know a disaster occurred, we think we understand it, but as time passes, we realize in hindsight that we didn't know everything, that we didn't grasp the scope, and that we still haven't dealt with all the implications."
31 בינואר 2024 היה יום יוצא דופן בשגרירות ישראל בשוודיה, הממוקמת באזור יוקרתי במרכז סטוקהולם ומתמודדת מאז 7 באוקטובר עם הגבלות ביטחוניות מחמירות. כשאחד מעובדי השגרירות יצא בצהרי אותו היום מהמבנה הוא גילה על הדשא, בשטח שבין הגדר החיצונית לקיר השגרירות, חפץ שלא היה אמור להיות שם. המשטרה שהוקפצה למקום זיהתה את החפץ כרימון יד ישן שלא התפוצץ. היא מיהרה לסגור את הרחובות הסמוכים וניטרלה את הרימון. מאוחר יותר היא הגבירה את האבטחה סביב השגרירות וסביב אתרים יהודיים בעיר. משטרת הביטחון השוודית הגדירה את התקרית כאירוע טרור וכך מיסגרו אותה גם אחרים. ראש ממשלת שוודיה, אולף קריסטרסון, אמר שניסיון הפגיעה בשגרירות הוא מתקפה לא רק על עובדיה, אלא גם על שוודיה עצמה.
באותו שלב עדיין לא היו חשודים במעשה, אך נפוצו חששות כי חמאס מתכנן פיגועים נגד יעדים יהודיים וישראליים בחו"ל. כמה שבועות קודם לכן דיווחו גורמי ביטחון בישראל כי בדנמרק, גרמניה והולנד אף נעצרו כמה פעילי טרור שהיו קשורים לזרוע הצבאית של חמאס.
ואז זה קרה שוב: פחות מארבעה חודשים אחרי מציאת הרימון, בשתיים בלילה, נשמעו יריות סמוך לשגרירות בסטוקהולם. התקשורת המקומית דיווחה ששוטרים בניידת משטרה שמעו את היריות ומאוחר יותר אף נמצאו במקום תרמילים מכלי נשק. עוד דווח כי כמה ימים לפני התקרית עצרה המשטרה, בשני מקרים נפרדים, נערים מדרום לסטוקהולם שהיו בדרכם לשגרירות הישראלית במונית. אחד מהם אף היה חמוש באקדח.
לאחר תקרית הירי במאי התבצעו מעצרים והמוסד הישראלי חשף את מה שגילה על התקריות בסטוקהולם ועל תקרית דומה שאירעה בשגרירות ישראל בבלגיה. על פי המוסד, האנשים העומדים מאחורי תקיפת היעדים הישראליים באירופה אינם ג'יהאדיסטים, פעילי חמאס או אקטיביסטים פרו-פלסטינים. באופן מפתיע, מדובר היה בארגון הפשיעה השוודי "פוקסטרוט", שמפיל את חיתתו על המדינה כבר זמן רב ושמו נודע לשמצה בהקשרים אחרים לגמרי – סחר בסמים, עבירות הונאה וחיסולי חשבונות בעולם התחתון.
"פוקסטרוט החל לצבור כוח ב-2020", אומר העיתונאי דיאמנט סליהו, שעוקב בשנים האחרונות אחרי ארגוני פשע מאורגן בשוודיה. סליהו כתב ספר על פוקסטרוט שהתפרסם באפריל השנה ונקרא När Ingen Lyssnar ("כשאיש לא מקשיב", הוצאת Mondial) וסדרת טלוויזיה שיצר על הארגון משודרת בימים אלה בטלוויזיה השוודית. "המשטרה החלה לשים לב לארגון בעקבות פריצה לתקשורת המוצפנת שלו, שהתאפשרה הודות לחקירה בינלאומית גדולה ולפעילות של רשויות אכיפת החוק בצרפת", הוא מסביר. "בעקבות כך גילתה המשטרה בשוודיה ארגון גדול שלא הכירה ואת האדם ששלט בו – רוא מג'יד, עבריין מהעיר אופסלה, שגייס אליו פעילים מרקעים שונים: שוודים ותיקים ומהגרים, גברים ונשים, עצמאים, בני נוער, בעלי מחסנים ואנשי לוגיסטיקה. למשטרה התברר גם שהארגון עוסק בכמויות גדולות מאוד של סמים, שמגיעים ממקומות שונים כמו ספרד והולנד ומופצים בשוודיה. ככל שהכמויות גדלו, הארגון השתלט על חלק גדל והולך של שוק הסמים השוודי ונתקל בהתנגדות של ארגוני פשיעה אחרים שהחלו להילחם בו".
צילום: היו גורדון
סליהו מוסיף כי כשהמשטרה השוודית החלה להתקרב לבכירים בפוקסטרוט, חלקם נמלטו – לטורקיה או לדרום אמריקה. "טורקיה משחקת תפקיד חשוב בסיפור מכיוון שחלק ממנהיגי הארגון נולדו בה ומחזיקים באזרחות טורקית, שמונעת את הסגרתם לשוודיה. אחרים, כמו מג'יד עצמו, שאינו יליד טורקיה, יכולים היו להשקיע בנדל"ן במדינה, וכך לקנות בה אזרחות. מאחר שהמנהיגים היו בחו"ל, החלו מחסלי החשבונות בשוודיה לפגוע בקרובי משפחה שלהם, מה שגרם להסלמה בקונפליקט. בסופו של דבר פוקסטרוט עצמו נקלע לקונפליקט פנימי, כאשר מצד אחד ניצב מג'יד ומצד שני מי שהיה שותפו והפך עכשיו ליריבו – אסמאעיל עבדו".
שני היריבים, מג'יד ועבדו, באים מרקע דומה: שניהם גדלו באופסלה, העיר הרביעית בגודלה בשוודיה, השוכנת צפונית לסטוקהולם, ושניהם בני מהגרים – מג'יד, יליד 1986, נולד באיראן והגיע כתינוק לשוודיה, ועבדו, יליד 1990, נולד בשוודיה לאם טורקייה ואב לבנוני. כינויו של מג'יד, שהוא כורדי במוצאו, הוא "השועל הכורדי", וכך גם כונה בתקשורת המוצפנת של הארגון – FoxKurdish, ומכאן גם מקור השם פוקסטרוט; ואילו עבדו מכונה "התות", מכיוון שמשפחתו מחזיקה חברות בתחום מכירת פירות. עבדו החל את הקריירה הפלילית שלו כיד ימינו של מג'יד ושניהם מבוקשים כיום בצווי מעצר בינלאומיים, שניהם שוהים מחוץ לשוודיה ושניהם מנהלים את ארגוני הפשיעה שלהם מרחוק.
אבל חרף הדמיון ביניהם, מג'יד ועבדו שונים זה מזה מבחינות רבות. מג'יד החל לעבוד בעסקים קטנים כנער ונאסר כבר בגיל צעיר על עבירות סמים ותקיפה. לאחר שחרורו מהכלא החל להקים את פוקסטרוט, שנותר מתחת לרדאר המשטרתי עד 2020, אז הוא נמלט משוודיה ושהה בחבל כורדיסטאן העיראקית לפני שהתמקם בטורקיה; בהמשך, בגלל חשש ממעצר, עבר לאיראן. עבדו היה תלמיד טוב ממשפחה נורמטיבית למדי, שיחק כדורגל כנער ובגיל 20 פתח חנות ירקות – אך כשהיה בן 26 כבר נכנס לכלא על סחר בסמים. על פי שוטרים שעמם שוחח סליהו, עבדו ניצל את עסקי משפחתו ובעיקר את ניסיונו הלוגיסטי ביבוא וייצוא כשהחל לקחת חלק בעסקי הסמים של מג'יד. כשמג'יד נעצר בטורקיה עבדו סייע בשחרורו, ובתחילת 2023 שניהם חיו עדיין בטורקיה וניהלו ממנה את ארגון הפשיעה החזק בשוודיה, שפעילותו כללה מלבד סחר בסמים גם חיסולים של עבריינים מארגונים יריבים.
אך בקיץ של אותה שנה חל פיצול בארגון, ו"השועל" ו"התות" נהפכו ליריבים: עבדו ואנשיו החליטו לעזוב את פוקסטרוט והחלו לפעול כארגון נפרד, שנודע בשוודיה בשם "רומבה". היריבות בין שני הארגונים הפכה לסיוט עבור רשויות אכיפת החוק במדינה, שלא הצליחו להשתלט על המצב ולהחזיר את תחושת הביטחון לתושבים. אלה נאלצו לחזות שוב ושוב בהוצאות להורג במרחב הציבורי, בתקריות ירי ואלימות והנחת מטענים בבנייני מגורים בכל רחבי המדינה.
האירוע המכונן של הקונפליקט אירע בספטמבר 2023 כאשר שני צעירים, האחד בן 15 והשני בן 19, יצאו בשעת לילה על גבי טוסטוס כשפניהם מועדות לווילה באופסלה. השניים היו שכירי חרב, מאלה שמבצעים איומים, סחיטות, מעשי אלימות, חבלה ורצח עבור אחרים תמורת תשלום. הם קיבלו הוראה מטורקיה להגיע לווילה שבה חייתה אמו של אסמאעיל עבדו. הם מצאו שם חלון שהיה מעט פתוח ואחד מהם ירה דרך החריץ ופגע בחזה האם, שהיתה בת 58 במותה. הירי הקטלני הוביל להסלמה דרמטית ולשרשרת מעשי נקמה שנמשכת עד היום.
"רצח אמו של עבדו גרם לכך שפושעים רבים עברו לצד שלו", אומר סליהו ומסביר שמכאן הדרך היתה פתוחה למלחמה חוצת גבולות: "ניסיונות רצח של עבריינים המקושרים לפוקסטרוט התרחשו בבגדאד, בסרייבו ובנורווגיה. מקרים אלה משכו תשומת לב גם מחוץ לשוודיה, וגם הרשויות באיראן הבחינו בהם והבינו שמי שמסוגל לשלוח רוצחים למקומות רבים כל כך, יכול לשמש גם לצרכים אחרים". כך החל להירקם הקשר בין מלחמות העולם התחתון השוודי למלחמות אחרות לגמרי.
סליהו הוא העיתונאי השוודי המזוהה ביותר עם דיווחים ותחקירים על עולם הפשע המאורגן במדינה. יש לו קשרים רבים בתוך ארגוני הפשע, במשטרה וברשויות אכיפת החוק והוא נחשב לכתב אמין על ידי גורמים מכל צדי המתרס. הוא נולד לפני 41 שנה ביוגוסלביה למשפחה אלבנית מקוסובו, והיגר עמה לשוודיה בילדותו עוד לפני תחילת המלחמה במולדתו. הוא החל את הקריירה העיתונאית שלו בעיתון מקומי בעיר שבה גדל בצפון שוודיה, משם המשיך ליומון הנפוץ "אקספרסן" ואחר כך לרשות השידור הממלכתית. הוא נשוי ואב לילדה, ומתגורר בסטוקהולם.
את כנופיות הפשע המאורגן בשוודיה הוא מגדיר כ"בעיה החברתית הגדולה ביותר שלנו. זו הבעיה שקורעת אותנו, יוצרת קיטוב ופוגעת בחברה בצורה חמורה מאוד. היום אפשר להזמין בשוודיה סמים או רצח באותה קלות שבה מזמינים משלוח של אוכל". הוא מוסיף כי הרווחים ממכירת סמים ומהונאה יותר מהוכפלו בהשוואה לתקופה שלפני 2020, וכי הפשע המאורגן גם הצליח לחדור למוסדות המדינה – למשטרה, למכס ולביטוח הלאומי. "בשנתיים האחרונות אנשי פוקסטרוט לבדם ביצעו – כחלק מהעימותים עם ארגונים אחרים – לפחות 30 מעשי רצח (לא כולל ניסיונות רצח שלא הצליחו) וכן מקרי ירי ופיצוצים שנועדו להפחדה. 16 מהנרצחים היו חפים מפשע – שכנים, קרובי משפחה ואנשים שנפגעו בגלל טעות בזיהוי".
מה ההסבר שלך לכך שדווקא שוודיה, שידועה כמדינה בעלת מוסדות מסודרים, מערכת רווחה מפותחת ורמת אמון גבוהה במוסדות, הפכה לקורבן לפשיעה מהסוג הזה?
"בשוודיה היתה נאיביות מוחלטת לגבי בעיות מהסוג הזה. המוסדות שלנו לא היו מוכנים להתפתחות כזו. בעבר, בשנות ה-90 למשל, היו כנופיות עברייניות של אופנוענים, אבל זה היה משהו שהשלטונות יכלו להבין – בחורים עם סימנים מזהים, ווסטים עם שם הכנופייה, זקנים ואופנועים. אפשר היה לדבר איתם. אחר כך הגיע דור חדש של אנשים צעירים שלא כיבדו את ההיררכיה של הכנופיות הישנות, שהיה קשה יותר להבין אותם ושגם החלו להשתמש באלימות קשה מאוד. באותו זמן היתה רפורמה במשטרת שוודיה והארגון מחדש גרם לכך שהמשטרה איבדה יכולות ברמה המקומית היכן שארגוני הפשע פעלו, ובו בזמן גם מוסדות כמו הביטוח הלאומי ורשויות הרווחה נעלמו מאותם המקומות.
As Swedish Member of Parliament Lorena Delgado Varas and activist Greta Thunberg make their way to Gaza as part of the so-called Global Sumud Flotilla (GSF), many Swedes assume that their intentions are good. However, the reality behind the movement they are actively supporting is as far as can be imagined from humanitarian, non-violent, peaceful activism.
The images of destruction and suffering from Gaza, combined with statements published by the flotilla's organizers, have created an image of brave and kind-hearted activists, willing to pay a heavy personal price to deliver humanitarian aid and draw the world’s attention to Gaza. On its website, GSF describes itself as “a coalition of everyday people – organizers, humanitarians, doctors, artists, clergy, lawyers, and seafarers – who believe in human dignity and the power of nonviolence.” They also emphasize that their loyalty lies with “justice, freedom, and the sanctity of human life.”
But the reality behind GSF is far removed from the idealistic image presented to the public.
Screenshot
Less than three months ago, a meeting took place at Hamas’ headquarters in Algeria. Participants included representatives of the Global Sumud Flotilla and leaders of the movements that murdered, raped, tortured, and burned hundreds of Israeli civilians on October 7th – and many more before that. Among those present were Youssef Hamdan, Hamas' representative in Algeria, and Nader al-Qaisi, a representative of the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine (PFLP). This was no secret meeting. Despite the continued portrayal of the flotilla by Swedish media as a peace initiative with humanitarian aims, publicly available material reveals concrete links between GSF and some of the world’s most notorious terrorist organizations. All it takes to uncover these connections is a basic knowledge of Arabic and a quick search through social media.
In one photo published by Nabil Chennoufi, a spokesperson for GSF who frequently shares extremist violent propaganda on social media, two members of the flotilla’s steering committee – Wael Nawar and Hayfa Mansouri – can be seen smiling and wearing keffiyehs with Hamas symbols, alongside leaders of the terrorist organization in Algeria. The caption says the meeting focused on the flotilla’s progress, its positive impact, and its connection to the "Palestinian resistance." In a second photo, a third steering committee member, Marouan Ben Guettaia, is seen meeting with Hamas leader Hamdan.
It’s important to stress that Greta Thunberg is not merely a regular passenger on one of the flotilla’s boats. GSF’s own website showed her as a member of the steering committee, alongside the aforementioned individuals. For some reason, her name and picture suddenly disappeared last Thursday.
Another committee member is Brazilian activist Thiago Ávila, who has openly expressed his admiration for the late Hezbollah leader Hassan Nasrallah. On social media, Ávila shared how he was inspired as a young man after meeting Nasrallah and described him as “an important anti-colonial figure who defeated Zionist and imperialist armies multiple times.” Earlier this year, Ávila attended Nasrallah’s funeral in Beirut – a massive demonstration attended by tens of thousands of people chanting “Death to Israel” and “Death to America.” Ávila was impressed, writing: “Today I saw thousands of new freedom fighters.”
As a reminder, it’s worth noting that Hezbollah is a militant Shia Muslim organization allied with Iran, Russia, North Korea, and Shia militias in Iraq. It is designated as a terrorist organization by the United States, the United Kingdom, and the European Union, and is responsible for numerous terror attacks and kidnappings around the world – financed by Iran’s Islamist regime and the narcotics trade.
But it seems Ávila is not loyal to only one terrorist organization. In a photo, he is seen posing next to convicted PFLP terrorist Leila Khaled, with a green heart emoji and a Palestinian flag. The caption reads: “Today I met one of the people I admire most in the entire world.” Khaled’s notoriety, it should be remembered, is not based on “human dignity and the power of nonviolent action,” but on her involvement in the hijackings of TWA Flight 840 and El Al Flight 219 in the late 1960s and early 1970s.
Another member of the GSF steering committee is Muhammad Nadir Al-Nuri Kamaruzaman, head of the GSF Southeast Asia coalition. He is also the founder of the Malaysian organization MyAqsa Defenders and CEO of the NGO Cinta Gaza Malaysia. Both organizations have expressed support for Hamas and have been linked to financing Hamas-run infrastructure in Gaza. Among other things, Cinta Gaza has published an e-book glorifying Yahya Ayyash, known as Hamas’s top bombmaker and responsible for numerous mass-casualty attacks in Israel during the 1990s. MyAqsa Defenders has also hosted a livestream event with Muslim Imran, whose name has appeared on Hamas channels as an official Hamas spokesperson.
Despite this information being openly and proudly published by those involved, neither Greta Thunberg nor Lorena Delgado Varas have been publicly questioned in Sweden for their participation in what clearly appears to be a well-organized, international operation with strong ties to terrorist groups. Sure – as citizens of a democratic country, they have every right to take part in whatever Mediterranean adventures they choose. But when those journeys are part of a network led by individuals with proven links to organizations responsible for massacres of civilians, there is a responsibility to investigate, question, and report.
It seems that behind the flowery rhetoric about human rights, humanitarian aid, and nonviolence hides a movement whose leadership praises antisemitic, religiously fanatical, chauvinistic, and ultranationalist violent actors. By participating in this initiative, Thunberg and Delgado Varas help legitimize forces that threaten democracy, gender equality, freedom of expression, and the very idea of a peaceful civil society. Despite their public image as champions of justice and solidarity, the facts suggest something quite different — in reality, Thunberg and Delgado Varas are supporting right-wing extremists.
Glorifying Terror at Way Out West. A Fancy Architecture Firm Rejects Israeli Colleagues. And a Mob Threatens to Attack Israelis in Central Stockholm. Published in Swedish daily Svenska Dagbladet: https://www.svd.se/a/VzExKW/jag-ar-israel-kan-jag-leva-har
It’s a spiral — it starts with a feeling of discomfort and eventually leads to avoiding certain environments. If, for example, you're a Jewish music lover and the Way Out West festival is a must on your events calendar, maybe this year you skipped it because of one of the festival’s main acts – Kneecap. The festival describes them as “controversial Belfast rappers creating music for the powerless and the voiceless.” It doesn’t specify who those voiceless people are, but a clue might be that one of the Irish rappers, during a performance, shouted “up Hamas, up Hezbollah” while wearing a Hezbollah flag. The oppressed and supposedly powerless turn out to be fascist, chauvinist, racist, antisemitic, and well-funded terrorist organizations.
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When the Swedish Jewish Central Council asked Way Out West to cancel the band, the festival chose to play the freedom-of-speech card – something they likely wouldn’t have done if it had been a band supporting far-right rather than far-left populists. But the real issue is that Kneecap gave the festival exactly what it seemed to want – an image of uncompromising, righteous rebels standing up to censorship and oppression. Music industry professionals know very well they have everything to gain and nothing to lose when B-list celebrities scream “Fuck Israel” while they whisper to each other that the Jews are once again whining about antisemitism and supporting genocide.
Way Out West is just one example. In October, Swedish Jews will likely also avoid Kulturhuset, which has chosen to use taxpayers’ money to fund a public discussion moderated by Shora Esmailian. The event marks two years to the October massacre of Israelis and Kulturhuset couldn't come up with a more suitable candidate than Esmailian. The same Esmailian who was moved by images of Hamas fighters invading Israel to massacre, rape, and kidnap hundreds of civilians, and who later explained that “the reason hostages were taken was because it’s the Palestinians’ only way to negotiate for freedom”.
Many Swedish Jews who have nothing to do with Israel’s war in Gaza feel deeply uncomfortable attending events where support for Hamas is tolerated. For their own sake, they stay away. Sure, they’re not being kicked out – not yet – but when it comes to Israelis, there’s a more proactive attitude.
Boycott is now the latest trend and a cheap way to craft a virtuous image.
A group of Israeli architects and designers who had scheduled meetings with Swedish colleagues ahead of their visit to Sweden received the following reply from an architect at White, one of Scandinavia’s leading architecture firms: “I’m relatively sure that neither you nor your fellow travelers support what the Israeli government is doing, so this might seem strange, but as long as the State of Israel continues its war tactics, we will have to pause tours and collaborations. See it as a form of pressure.”
It’s a revealing message. The sender assumes the group members oppose Netanyahu’s government and its Gaza policy — which many Israelis do. But it doesn’t matter. All Israelis are automatically canceled. If the Swedish architect truly cared about Palestinian victims and wanted to work toward ending the war, he would support more dialogue with Israelis, not less. But these symbolic gestures are solely about appearing virtuous and morally superior. It’s not even about buying into the absurd narrative that Israel is a colonialist project — because White has previously collaborated with Israeli colleagues. But now, boycotting is the trendy new stance and an easy way to signal virtue.
Who cares that millions of Israelis have fought for their lives and political freedoms over the past two years? Who cares that thousands of deadly rockets from six countries have rained down on them? Who cares that academic boycotts, trade blockades, and cultural isolation only strengthen the extremist forces on both the Israeli and Palestinian sides, while hurting the moderate, pragmatic voices trying to build bridges?
The spiral ends with a mob out on the streets, hunting for Israelis. “We don’t accept war criminals walking freely in our streets,” read a post calling people to gather outside a hotel in Stockholm where an Israeli tourist — spotted in the city center — was staying. Rumors began circulating on social media — “an IDF soldier in Stockholm!” — and the digital intifada took off. “Israeli passports should not be accepted at the border!” read one comment. “The problem is they usually have two passports — one from their real country and one from Israhell,” said another. Finally, came the demand for blood: “Let’s go there. Who’s coming with me? We should take the law into our own hands,” one user wrote on X, continuing: “Violence must be used.”
Is the goal to organize a lynching or to pose as humanitarian superheroes? It doesn’t really matter.
It’s easy to threaten tourists.
But what about me? I’m Swedish, but also an Israeli-Jewish Zionist. I write for Haaretz, an Israeli newspaper critical of the Gaza war. Still, like many of my colleagues, I’ve served in the IDF. That said, I thought I was fully integrated into Sweden and that my presence here was just as unconditional as anyone else’s. Is that no longer true? Like most Israelis, I’m not afraid of self-righteous bullies shouting “no Zionists on our streets” – so this is just a rhetorical question – I’m neither a tourist, an architect, nor a Way Out West fan. But I am a Swedish-Israeli who loves his country of origin – Am I allowed to walk your streets?
In an article in SvD this week, Göran Rosenberg shared his concerns about the Jewish world. Many, myself included, share some of his worries — for example, concern over Israel’s extremist settler movement and the situation in Gaza. But several of his claims are dangerous and misleading.
"The Israel project is morally dead," writes Rosenberg. The project, not the country. That’s an extremely important nuance. If Israel is a project, then it can either succeed or fail, in which case, like any other failed project, it loses its right to exist. But Israel is not a project; it is a country. A country with a political right and left, babies and pensioners, gangsters and hipsters, programmers and midwives, people sitting in traffic jams and people demonstrating against the government. That is the entire point of Zionism — Jews have the right to be like any other people and have an unconditional right to self-determination. Israel should not be the only country in the world whose existence is conditional, and the right to self-determination of its people can't be dependent on their ability to meet Rosenberg’s moral standards.
What are Israelis supposed to do now that "the project has failed"? Pack their bags and leave? Vanish into thin air? Go up in smoke? That’s exactly the propaganda Hamas spreads through Western protest movements — if Israeli Jews are so morally bankrupt, then it’s not about regime change or electing a new government, as it is with Russians or Iranians. Instead, the Jews must disappear. Or die.
It's no coincidence that Israel's worst enemies — those who want to wipe it off the face of the earth — refuse to acknowledge it as a state among states. The Iranian regime calls Israel 'the Zionist regime' or 'the occupying regime of Jerusalem'. Hamas speaks of 'the Zionist entity' or 'the occupation', and the Houthis in Yemen refer to 'the Zionist enemy'. Always an abstract creature — an entity, a project — never a state. Even Nazi Germany and Stalinist Russia were allowed to be states. But not Israel.
Rosenberg writes that Israel’s “genocide in Gaza” is now putting Jews in other countries into an “existential crisis” and that voices like his are being silenced. Besides the fact that he regularly writes in one of Sweden's main daily newspapers and is far from being silenced, there's a much more important falsehood in his claim. In fact, in a broader context, the opposite of what he writes is true — Israel, with all its sins, is the answer, not the problem (and the problem can be explained in one word – Auschwitz). Historically, there have been Jewish non-Zionist movements, but the reason most of them disappeared has nothing to do with silencing voices. It has to do with the fact that Zionism understood antisemitism better and offered a concrete answer based on international law. The other solutions vanished in the Holocaust. What alternative does Rosenberg propose? Another socialist utopia? Or should we return to the pogroms on European streets?
Then there’s the conflict with the Palestinians. Rosenberg is right that Israel has oppressed the Palestinians for decades and made every conceivable mistake. But the Palestinians have too. They are not the eternal victims Rosenberg sees them as, and their violence is not a natural "expression against oppression". The violence started long before Israel was founded — before the occupation, before the oppression — and much of it is imported. Just as Israel receives American support, the Palestinians received support from the Nazis in the 1940s, from Egypt’s Muslim Brotherhood and the Soviet Union in the 1970s and 1980s, and more recently from dictators and jihadists in Qatar, Iran, and Yemen — countries that have no territorial conflict with Israel, but still support fascist, chauvinistic, and corrupt Palestinian movements.
We can all enjoy philosophical discussions about the Jewish intellectual world, but the bigger problem right now is those who persistently blame Jews and Israelis for all the world’s problems. Some even build nuclear weapons to "wipe out the Zionist entity". It’s true that polarization within the Jewish world and anti-democratic tendencies in Israel are serious, but most Jews are more concerned about genocide-prone regimes that are after Jewish blood. Even if Rosenberg finds it uncomfortable or unpleasant, Israelis still have the right to face these challenges and build themselves a future.
As Sweden is marking 250 years of Jewish life, the reactions to the October 7th massacre, the war in Gaza and the tone of the rhetoric in the public debate are reasons to be concerned about Swedish antisemitism. But what is the true extent of this scourge, what is its impact on Sweden’s Jewish community, and how is it being addressed by the authorities? By placing these issues in a broader historical context, David Stavrou’s investigation, which we are publishing as part of our partnership with the DILCRAH, seeks to answer these questions.
In 1973 a young Moroccan army officer named Ahmed Rami arrived in Sweden asking for political asylum. He said he needed protection because he was part of an unsuccessful coup d’état in his homeland the previous summer. More than a decade later, after obtaining asylum in Sweden, Rami started broadcasting Radio Islam, a radio program which subsequently turned into a newspaper and later, a web-site. The focus of these enterprises became clear right at the beginning – it was not about Islam; it was about Jews. The radio program and the website featured some of antisemitism’s greatest hits; conspiracy theories about how Jews and Zionists control the world, Holocaust denial, Nazi propaganda, lists of influential Swedish Jews and Israel bashing. During the last three decades, Rami has been investigated, charged, convicted and fined for hate speech and hate crimes and his radio station was shut down by the authorities more than once. Still, now aged 78, Rami’s legacy lives on. He has published books, voiced support for Hezbollah and neo-Nazi groups, his website is still very much alive and the internet allows his work to continue.
Radio Islam is an important landmark in the history of Swedish antisemitism for several reasons. One of them is that the precedential trial which sent Rami to prison for six months also gave a small and relatively unknown Swedish organization called The Swedish Committee Against Antisemitism (SCAA, or SKMA in Swedish) an important role in the Swedish public arena. “SCAA is a religiously and politically unaffiliated NGO which was founded in 1983”, says Mathan Shastin Ravid, the organization’s office manager, “it was founded by a group of activists who wanted to raise awareness about antisemitism. It was a period with a clear wave of antisemitism in Sweden and other European countries during and after the Lebanon War in 1982. Antisemitism was not a new phenomenon in Sweden back then, but this was on a new scale, there were all these accusations with motives and images that targeted not only Israel, but Jews as a group. When the Radio Islam broadcasts started in the end of the eighties, it was clear to us that the radio station was a megaphone for anti-Jewish hatred and propaganda. On the basis of SCAA´s report to Sweden’s Chancellor of Justice, Rami was convicted of hate speech. But it was clear that in those days we stood pretty much alone. Not many people understood the problem, people did not want to talk about it and there were many known figures who came to Rami’s defence saying it was only criticism of Israel, not antisemitism”.
A lot has changed in Sweden since then and SCAA probably has an important part in the change. Shastin Ravid says that since the nineties, the organization has become more than just an activist watchdog. It now also focuses on education. “These days we stand on two legs”, he explains, “one of them is monitoring, information and advocacy, as we try to follow what is happening in Sweden and the world and follow the Swedish and international debate regarding antisemitism. We then react when we see antisemitism in different forms. The other leg is education. We have educational programs for different target groups such as teachers and pupils in Swedish schools, journalists and politicians. We also work with some governmental authorities like the police, which often lack a deeper knowledge of contemporary antisemitism and how it spreads. It is my understanding that there is more awareness in this area today than there was ten years ago and that positive things are happening as part of a higher level of knowledge and consciousness in general in Swedish society today when it comes to antisemitism. But there is still much work to do..”
When Shastin Ravid is asked for an up-to-date description of antisemitism in Sweden, he starts by saying that more research is needed to get a better understanding of the problem. That said, it is clear that in many ways Sweden is not different from other countries. “The development in Sweden is connected to global developments”, he says, “antisemitic conspiracy theories have been spread and legitimized by important political actors in recent years. In Europe we have for example seen it in countries like Hungary and Poland amongst right-wing nationalist parties and governments, but we have also seen it in other countries including the US where amongst others Donald Trump, Elon Musk and the MAGA movement have legitimized and spread antisemitic propaganda. This global phenomenon has affected Sweden too and has sparked hate speech and hate crimes. And then there is, of course, the strong global wave of antisemitism after Hamas’ attack in Israel on the 7th of October 2023 and the war in Gaza. It is not the first time an escalation of the Israel-Palestinian conflict triggers antisemitism in Sweden and other countries, but the level of propaganda, hate, threats and attacks against Jews has been unusually high.”
“Studies show that antisemitism in the form of negative beliefs and attitudes towards Jews exists, in varying degrees, in all Swedish society, in many different groups and milieus. Within Swedish mainstream politics, the problem has long been visible in the right-wing nationalist Sweden Democrats party. For years, the party has tried to portray itself as a party which opposes antisemitism and is pro-Israel, but antisemitism continues to be a problem in the party. We often find high- and low-level representatives of the party spreading antisemitic propaganda and we see many connections between the party and right-wing and even Nazi extremists. In addition, the Sweden-Democrats do not deal with antisemitism within their ranks unless they are exposed by the media, and even then, there are many cases of people within the party who have kept their jobs after they were exposed”. The party’s proclaimed “Zero Tolerance” policy towards racism and extremism, including antisemitism, Shastin Ravid says, is “a joke”.
“But the nationalist and populist right is just part of the problem. Antisemitism does, for example, also regularly appear within the pro-Palestine movement and parts of the Swedish left, where it is often related to Israel and the Israel-Palestinian conflict. In these circles there is sometimes a denial or an unwillingness to see the problem of antisemitism, sometimes rooted in the misperception that Jews are “white” and therefore cannot be victims of racism. In the last year, there has been a big debate in Sweden about the fact that several representatives of the Swedish Left Party have spread antisemitic propaganda, many times on social media. And when criticized, those party representatives have been backed by many others within and around the party who have denied that the propaganda is antisemitic. The SCAA and many others have strongly criticized all of this, and the fact that the party leadership many times has been slow to act and condemn the spread of such anti-Jewish racism and those party members who defend and excuse it.”
“And of course, movements linked to radical Islamism must also be taken into account”, Shastin Ravid adds. According to him, antisemitism is most virulent within those movements and Nazi and other right-wing extremist movements. “For all of them, antisemitism is an ideological foundation, a “worldview,” a way of understanding and describing events both locally and globally. Jews are constantly portrayed as conspirators and blamed for all the world’s ills”. Furthermore, Shastin Ravid adds, “antisemitism has long been a weapon of regimes in the Middle East, where it is deeply rooted, openly expressed, and legitimized. The spread of this type of propaganda via the internet by regimes such as Iran has contributed to the globalization of this hatred. Recently, it was revealed that the Iranian regime is suspected of having planned to murder Swedish Jews, among them Aron Verständig, the chair of the Official Council of Swedish Jewish Communities (Judiska Centralrådet). According to the Swedish Security Services (Säpo), Iran has also recruited Swedish criminal networks to carry out attacks against Israeli and Jewish targets. The Swedish National Centre for Terrorist Threat Assessment (NCT) has reported that the biggest terror threats in Sweden come from violent Islamists and right-wing extremists, which both have Jews and Jewish institutions as some of their primary targets”.
Even without physical violence, Swedish antisemitism is present in the public sphere and one of its main outlets are the numerous demonstrations in support of the Palestinians and denouncing the “genocide” in Gaza. The days right after October 7th, and before the Israeli ground attack on Gaza began, were a good example. While the massacre in southern Israel was still ongoing, there were a couple of spontaneous demonstrations in southern Sweden which included music, dancing and convoys of cars honking their horns in support of the Hamas attack. Right after that, in the course of one weekend in Stockholm, three different organizations demonstrated separately but with similar slogans. A part from the mainstream Pro-Palestinian movements, there were more radical organizations on the streets. One was Hizb ut-Tahrir, a radical Islamic group advocating the creation of a caliphate governed by Sharia law from Uzbekistan to Morocco, with a small branch in Sweden. It was granted permission to demonstrate despite being banned in several countries. Next came the Nordic Resistance Movement, a neo-Nazi group with a few hundred members who demonstrated in support of the Hamas attack. They were followed by the Revolutionary Communist Youth, which claims that Palestinians have the right to “fight by all means against the occupying power to liberate their land.” The latter described the October 7 attacks as an act of liberation that “caught the Zionists in their beds.” Both organizations, one neo-Nazi and the other Marxist-Leninist, support the Palestinian slogan calling for “crushing Zionism.”
Since then, there have been numerous demonstrations in Sweden, many of them on a weekly basis. These demonstrations are legal, the organizers deny that they feature antisemitic content and they are seen by many Swedes as legitimate opposition to Israel and solidarity with Palestinians. However, they often include slogans which are considered antisemitic by many such as supporting a “global intifada” and “crushing Zionism”, promoting antisemitic conspiracy theories and calling for a “Free Palestine from the River to the Sea”.
Still, demonstrations are not the main concern when it comes to current Swedish antisemitism. There have been numerous reports of activists who have used school classes, universities and even pre-schools to spread radical anti-Israeli political propaganda which is seen by many as antisemitic, the culture world has been full of calls for boycotting Israel and ending cooperation with Israeli artists, the BDS movement which was hardly present in Sweden before the war has been publicly active in promoting boycotts against companies which they claim are complicit with Israel’s “illegal occupation and apartheid politics” and parts of Swedish academia have become hostile to Jewish and Israeli students. In Gothenburg University, for example, activists were allowed to take over the premises of the university’s art and design school and they distributed Hamas propaganda. In Stockholm, Lund and Uppsala there have been reports in Swedish media of pro-Palestinian encampments and so-called “liberated zones” which together with harsh rhetoric from members of senior university staff who are also political activists made students hide their Jewish identity and caused concerns about their safety and well-being.
Demonstration in Stockholm, June 2025
How prevalent are antisemitic crimes?
“Many Jews in Sweden have experienced antisemitism in one way or another”, Shastin Ravid says, “we need more research, but studies have indicated that many Swedish Jews have been targeted by antisemitism and many of them have not reported these incidents. This is also true for other hate crimes, most of them are probably never reported to the police”. Some of the studies Shastin Ravid is referring to were made by the Swedish National Council for Crime Prevention (Brottsförebyggande rådet, Brå). They show that there is a small and inconsistent increase in the number of reported antisemitic hate crimes over the years, but some years there is a sharp rise. “These are often the years when the conflict between Israel and the Palestinians has escalated, like the last war in Gaza. According to a study from Brå, there was a sharp rise in reported antisemitic hate crimes during the last part of 2023, almost 5 times as many as during the same period the year before”.
But other global events may also have been important in this respect. “The pandemic, for example, brought at least two kinds of antisemitic effects”, Shastin Ravid says, “First, there were accusations against the Jews, who were blamed for starting the pandemic and for profiting from it. Then, there were parts of the anti-vaccination movement which instrumentalized and diminished the Holocaust, claiming that they are treated the same way as the Jews in Nazi Germany. The war in Ukraine also triggers antisemitism on a global scale as do the discussion about Quran burnings and the debate about migration and refugees which fuels the antisemitic so-called replacement theory. These days antisemitic propaganda is often spread online with code words replacing the word Jews. Instead, it is Zionists or Globalist or specific names like Soros or Rothschild. These words are used globally as symbols of a big Jewish conspiracy, and they are widely spread in Sweden too”.
Another study Shastin Ravid speaks of was made by a government agency called The Living History Forum (Forum för Levande historia), which was founded in the beginning of the 2000s to “work for democracy and equality between all people, using lessons learned from the Holocaust”. According to Shastin Ravid, the study from 2020, showed that there had been a decline in antisemitic attitudes and notions over a period of 15 years, but that antisemitism still exists within different parts of the population. “I think that this is an important point to make”, he says, “the study showed that around 5 % of the respondents displayed antisemitic attitudes with a stronger intensity, which is a rather low figure compared to many other countries. However, if you broaden it and look at the group of people who agreed with one or more of the study’s antisemitic statements, the number is 34 %. This does not mean that 34 % can be said to be antisemitic, but it indicates that antisemitic ideas exist among a bigger part of the population than many think. We should not only focus on the most extreme groups. According to the study, higher levels of antisemitic beliefs correlated among other things with, and were more common amongst people who are: older, have lower levels of education and have a low trust in public institutions. Antisemitic beliefs were also more common among people who have sexist and anti-immigrant attitudes, people who sympathize with the Sweden Democrats party, people who were born outside Sweden or Europe, and people with a Muslim religious affiliation. Another interesting factor is that traditional and Holocaust related antisemitic beliefs tended to be slightly more common among men, and Israel-related antisemitic attitudes and notions tended to be slightly more common among women”. However, Shastin Ravid points out, the study is now a few years old, and many things have happened since that could affect the results of the next study, which is supposed to be published in 2026.
One group which is particularly exposed to antisemitic hatred is the group of school pupils and teachers who in many cases are scared to be open with their Jewish identity. “We have studies from among other places Malmö and Stockholm which show that there are serious problems with antisemitism in some Swedish schools. Sometimes it is related to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, sometimes the word Jew is used as a curse and sometimes we see antisemitic conspiracy theories which fascinate youngsters. We also see jokes about the Holocaust, swastikas on benches or lockers, and Nazi salutes. Jewish pupils often feel that their teachers and schools do not take the matter of antisemitism seriously, and they say that there is a lack of knowledge and support. This is something that many Swedish youngsters have told us at the SCAA through the years”.
Sweden is home to the largest Jewish community in Scandinavia. It’s estimated that about 15,000 Jews live in the country which has a population of just over ten million. That said, there are probably many more Swedes who have a Jewish background, as Jewish immigration to Sweden dates back to the 18th and 19th centuries and many have married into Swedish families. The largest community in the country is the one in the capital Stockholm which has three synagogues, including the conservative Great Synagogue adjacent to the Raoul Wallenberg and Holocaust monuments and an office building which houses various Jewish organizations. A few minutes’ walk away, there’s a relatively new cultural centre called “Bajit” which houses a Jewish primary school, a Jewish kindergarten and a variety of Jewish activities for all ages, as well as a Kosher shop and a café. Smaller Jewish communities and associations exist in Malmö, Gothenburg and a couple of other smaller towns. Sweden’s Jewish communities are united under an umbrella organization, the Official Council of Swedish Jewish Communities (Judiska Centralrådet) which usually takes part in national discussions concerning Jewish life in the Swedish Parliament, Government and other authorities.
Since the problem of antisemitism isn’t new to Swedish society, it’s no surprise that in recent years the Swedish government has made many attempts to address it. After decades of ignoring the problem, dismissing and repressing it, recent Swedish governments have put it on their agenda and have tried many different approaches. Petra Kahn Nord who served as the World Jewish Congress’ representative in the Nordic countries, says that the current Swedish government appointed a special inter-ministerial task force in order to combat antisemitism and improve the conditions for Jewish life in Sweden. “This government task force was set up to be a ‘one point of contact’ authority, which is something we’ve suggested before”, she says, “it was founded in January 2023 and the first issue that it focused on was government funding for security for Jewish institutions like synagogues and schools. The second issue was, and still is, addressing antisemitism”. Kahn Nord explains that the previous government had the political will to secure security funding, but the budget mechanism didn’t really work. The current government, however, addressed the issue, increased funding and gave additional funding after October 7th. But protection against violent antisemitic incidents isn’t all that’s needed.
In 2021 Sweden hosted The Malmö International Forum on Holocaust Remembrance and Combating Antisemitism. The conference, hosted by then-Prime-Minister, Social-Democrat Stefan Löfven, asked the participating countries and organization to make concrete pledges that would strengthen Holocaust remembrance and tackle Holocaust distortion, Holocaust denial and contemporary antisemitism. The Malmö forum was seen by many as a natural continuation to the steps another Social-Democratic Prime-Minister, Göran Persson, made twenty years earlier. Persson founded what is now called the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance (IHRA) and initiated the Stockholm International Forum on the Holocaust which brought together political leaders, state officials, religious leaders, survivors, educators, and historians from around the globe. When Löfven initiated the 2021 events, one of Sweden’s pledges was to form an inquiry on strengthening Jewish life in the country. The idea was that fighting antisemites is one thing, but making Jewish life flourish was another subject. One that has been neglected for many years.
This indeed happened and various issues which Jews in Sweden were concerned about were discussed seriously. These included the threats of illegalizing Jewish circumcision and banning the import of Kosher meat which were supported by some political parties. Another important issue was the status of Jewish schools in Sweden which doesn’t have almost any real private schools. There are so-called independent schools, including a couple of Jewish ones, within a charter system, but because of reports of radicalization in some of Sweden’s independent Muslim schools, new legislation was put in place which affected Jewish schools too. The new legislation imposed the definition of “denominational schools”, and with-it necessary restrictions, on existing Jewish schools. Another concern was an initiative to limit the establishment of new denominational schools. These were all concerns in the Swedish-Jewish pre-October 7th reality. Community leaders were saying then that “Swedish Jews may be able to survive a terror attack, but not legislation forbidding Brit Mila or Jewish schools”.
Today, after October 7th, it’s clear that the majority of political parties, and certainly the ones which are part of the Swedish Government, are committed to addressing these Jewish concerns. Antisemitism, however, is not necessarily a problem which the government can easily address since its origins are well-rooted and widespread in many parts of Swedish society. All recent Swedish governments have therefore realized that combating antisemitism is as complicated as it’s important. And it’s a work in progress. Petra Kahn Nord mentions two major shifts in the last few years. “First, before 2015 it was not acceptable to talk about antisemitism which came from immigrant groups from the Middle-East. This made members of the Jewish community feel abandoned. Sweden has now changed and it’s now possible to talk about it and deal with the problem”, Kahn Nord says, “the second shift has to do with the fact that the populist right-wing Sweden-Democrats party is supporting the government. So far, however, the party hasn’t caused any policy shifts aimed at the Jewish minority. But October 7th created a new reality. We’ve seen an increase in the number of antisemitic incidents in schools and universities, we’ve seen politicians, especially in the Swedish Left, who spread antisemitic propaganda and we’ve seen support for Hamas in demonstrations and online”. Kahn Nord says that schools and social media are a particular concern. “The problem in these arenas is serious”, she claims, “and it can’t be dealt with by using old “action plans” that previous governments suggested. Many of these plans, including pledges made in Malmö four years ago, focused on Holocaust education and educational strategies against racism in general, as opposed to antisemitism as a specific phenomenon. The Malmö Pledges, for example, included the pledge to establish a new Holocaust Museum in Stockholm (which has indeed been opened since then) and another to contribute 5.5 million SEK to the Auschwitz-Birkenau Foundation. “There’s a Swedish tendency to focus on dead Jews”, Petra Kahn Nord says, “perhaps now, especially after October 7th, it’s time to focus on the living ones”.
And indeed, when it comes to living Jews and real concrete Jewish communities, combating antisemitism and taking measures to improve Jewish depends on strong support and clear stands by governments.
In Sweden, the subject of antisemitism has been on the agenda for decades and different governments have handled it in different ways. Today, the government minister who holds the relevant portfolio is Parisa Liljestrand, a forty-two-year-old minister from the center-right Moderate party. Liljestrand, immigrated to Sweden as a young child from Iran and worked as a teacher and school head-master before getting involved in local politics. In 2022 she received her first post on the national political scene and became Sweden’s Minister of Culture. In an interview conducted in her Stockholm office she explains that one of her responsibilities is addressing issues connected with Sweden’s five national minorities. The minorities and their languages, which are considered official minority languages in Sweden, were recognized in the year 2000 and they include Jews and Yiddish; Roma and Romani Chib; the Sami and the Sami language; the Swedish Finns and Finnish and the Tornedalers and their Meänkieli language.
“Our government was appointed in October 2022 and the Prime Minister made it clear, as early as his first government statement, that strengthening Jewish life and working against antisemitism would be one of our priorities”, she says, “When we started our work, we decided that we need to understand what’s been done in Sweden today and to listen to the Jewish organizations which are active in Sweden. We wanted to understand what they think is needed. What we found out was that a lot of important work is being done, but there are things which still don’t work and there are things which are lacking. Sweden ranks well in global measurements of antisemitism, but there’s still widespread antisemitism in Sweden which we need to actively fight. This became even more evident after Hamas’s horrific attack on October 7, 2023. As in many other countries, we have seen the threat perception towards Swedish Jews increase, as has open antisemitism. The government takes this very seriously.
But it is not enough to work against antisemitism. We need to strengthen the possibility to live a free Jewish life, both in terms of Jewish culture and in terms of Jewish religious life. This is why we need to gather the work that’s done by different government ministries and by Jewish organizations. When we talked to the organizations, we found that it was sometimes hard to understand who’s responsible for what issue and it was important to make sure that things don’t end up in the wrong place. That’s why we founded the Government Task Force for Jewish Life as an inter-governmental work group which, beside the Prime Minister’s office, has eight more government offices represented in it”.
When asked if the fact that her government is supported by a party with roots in neo-Nazism doesn’t affect her attempts to fight antisemitism, Liljestrand tells a story of one of her meetings. “I met a Jewish father who told me about his son who went shopping while he was wearing a necklace with a Star of David. The father said that when the boy came to the cashier, the person who was working there told him that he was not welcome in the shop. This story really hurts. This can’t be our reality. This isn’t Sweden. We have a clear mission – making Sweden a free country to live in and supporting those groups who cannot live a de-facto free life here. So, I don’t feel the Sweden-Democrats are stopping me from doing this. I understand that there’s a concern, but I’m clear, and the government is clear in its message. One must remember that antisemitism is about gathering and capitalizing violence from various directions. That’s what makes it different from regular racism”.
Parisa Liljestrand, Photo by Ninni Andersson Regeringskansliet
Part of the violence Liljestrand is talking about is online and much of it is aimed at young people who have to grow up with it. “It’s extremely serious when antisemitism becomes a natural part of day-to-day life and it isn’t limited to the physical space and instead it’s spread digitally”, Liljestrand says, “it’s worrying and we need to fight it and work towards the goal of not having another generation which is exposed to the same kind of difficulties living a Jewish life or the same kind of antisemitic hate which previous generations were exposed to”.
Liljestrand seems to be serious about this particular aspect of her job. “I myself, with my background, know exactly what it’s like to live in a society which treats you differently if you have a different skin color or if you have a different culture”, she says, “I know what it’s like to fight your way into society and have the will to be part of it while still keeping a part of your culture and heritage”.
When it comes to antisemitism and the struggle against it, Sweden is indeed an interesting case. For much of its post war history, antisemitism wasn’t taken very seriously. Neo-Nazi movements operated freely while the close ties to Nazi Germany were ignored. This came together with a widespread ignorance about the Holocaust, antisemitic attitudes within the Swedish elite and free import of antisemitism with large waves of immigration from other countries. Then, in the last couple of decades, all that changed. Sweden became a world leader of Holocaust education and combating antisemitism. At least that’s what it presents itself as being. But are the museums, task forces, international conferences, research projects and educational initiatives really working?
On the one hand, it is clear that Sweden is much more aware of the problem and much better equipped to combat it than it has ever been. But any honest assessment of the situation must admit that, in many cases, Swedish schools and universities remain hostile dangerous places for Jewish students and teachers, who continue to suffer from harassment, social pressure and occasionally also violence, while teachers and principals avoid confronting the aggressors. It has been reported that in some schools, Shoah survivors haven’t been invited to share their stories because of the disrespect shown by some students.
Outside the education system, other problems remain unresolved. Although physical violence against Jewish targets is not common in Sweden, it has occurred and, according to police and the press, it remains possible. Molotov cocktails have been thrown at Jewish cemeteries, funeral homes, and synagogues, the Israeki embassy has been attacked and other cases of physical and verbal assaults against Jews have been documented.
The resurgence of pro-Palestinian demonstrations since October 7—where strongly antisemitic slogans, signs, and rhetoric have been documented—is also a cause for concern. The scale of the protests against singer Eden Golan’s participation in the Eurovision 2024 final in Malmö made international headlines, but the truth is that although those demonstrations may have been the biggest, they weren’t the most aggressive.
For many Jews who live in Sweden it’s not about the size of the demonstration and not about the legitimate right to demonstrate. Anyone who’s uncomfortable with these demonstrations can just avoid them. The problem is that when Sweden’s Jews see thousands of people who are collectively calling Israel, which is an important part of their identity, the worse things in the world and promoting a very high level of hate, they know that in that crowd there may be familiar faces – perhaps their children’s pre-school teacher or their local clinic’s nurse or doctor. And it’s not only that. The separation that some of the demonstrators try to make between criticizing Israel and attacking Jews doesn’t always work. When demonstrators wanted to burn an Israeli flag in Malmö in November 2023, they didn’t get on a train and go to Israel’s embassy in Stockholm. They did it outside the local synagogue. A couple of months later protesters from a group called ”Together for Palestine” chanted anti-Israeli slogans at people who were entering Stockholm’s Great synagogue for a Holocaust Remembrance Day ceremony. Some of the people who encountered this were Holocaust survivors. The demonstrators demanded that Sweden’s Jews will denounce Israel and its war in Gaza. These events send a message that 250 years after Jews were officially allowed to live and create a community in Sweden, their legitimacy is now conditional. If they speak out against their historic homeland and its government, they are tolerated. If not, all hell may to break loose.
A look at the Radio Islam website is a thought-provoking experience. It features lengthy texts about subjects like how Jews have controlled Sweden for centuries, how they “instrumentalize the Holocaust” and how racism, hatred and cruelty are the driving forces of the Torah and the Talmud. In a way this brings us full circle. Sweden has gone a long way fighting antisemitism since Radio Islam was persecuted back in the eighties. Since then, Swedish governments, Jewish organizations and civil society organizations have turned Sweden into a country known for its rigorous combat against antisemitism. However, with populist and racist political movements on the rise, with Islamist propaganda on and off-line, with an increasingly aggressive discourse against Israel and Zionism, demonstrations, boycotts, and burnings of flags and books on a weekly basis, it’s now clearer than ever that the fight against antisemitism still has a long way to go.
The situation in Gaza is detreating and the international community has every right to intervene, but anyone who criticizes Israel’s warfare can’t be taken seriously unless they also have a serious suggestion as to how to protect Israeli citizens from another massacre by the genocidal wing of the Palestinian national movement.
Israel’s new ground offensive in Gaza is raising stark Swedish reactions, as always. The left is denouncing Israel as a genocidal power indiscriminately killing Palestinians. The right is slightly more restrained, but it too claims that Israel is going too far. These reactions are understandable considering the horrifying images from Gaza shown on Swedish TV. But it’s more than that. Horrifying scenes are taking place all over the world, but Gaza, unlike other conflicts, has a unique role in Swedish politics. It’s an issue of interest but also a source of easily-won political points. The Swedish Left Party, Vänsterpartiet, uses it to show its electoral base how pro-Palestinian it is, so as not to lose votes to radical breakaway fractions, while The Social Democratic Party leaders use it to show their loyalty to old-school “humanitarian super power” policies. On the other side of the political spectrum, while Right Wing populist party, Sverige Demokraterna, continues marketing itself as “Sweden’s most pro-Israel party” as an alibi against accusations of antisemitism, Moderaterna, the ruling center-right party, is trying to maintain a responsible image, aligning itself with EU allies and international law, by presenting a moderate critical policy towards Israel. Sweden’s Gaza discourse, it seems, is more about domestic politics than the reality in Israel and Gaza.
But there is an Israeli reality which isn’t visible to Swedish news followers, one that adds another dimension and shows that Israel is more than just a blood thirsty monstrous state out for revenge. Those who choose to go beyond Swedish headlines, find that there are many Israelis who oppose their government and its Gaza policy. In fact, thousands of them demonstrate against it week after week. These are not only radical left-wingers from the fringes of the political spectrum. Israel is deeply split and even mainstream Zionist political leaders with hundreds of thousands of voters are speaking up against Netanyahu’s government.
A "sane state does not wage war against civilians, does not kill babies as a hobby, and does not set goals for itself like the expulsion of a population", said the leader of The Democrats, Israel’s Centre-Left Zionist party who’s also a retired IDF major general. When Netanyahu reacted by claiming that Golan’s statement was “wild incitement”, Golan refused to apologize. “The time has come for us to have a backbone of steel”, he said, “we must stand by our values as a Zionist, Jewish, and democratic state”. He added that the government ministers are corrupt and that the “war must be ended, the hostages returned, and Israel rebuilt”.
But it’s not only the Israeli Left. “What’s the strategy?”, said Yair Lapid, leader of the centrist “Yesh Atid” party, “we all support the elimination of Hamas, but Hamas will not disappear unless an alternative to its rule is presented. Getting the IDF stuck in Gaza for years is a strategic mistake, an economic disaster, and a diplomatic tragedy that will prevent us from being part of the historic change in the Middle East”.
Even some Israeli right-wing politicians oppose Netanyahu’s government. “This war is not a war for security but a war for power”, said Avigdor Liberman, a hardliner who in the past held important ministerial posts under Netanyahu, “this government is willing to pay any price for staying in power — even at the cost of the lives of the hostages and soldiers”. This is a point many in Israel agree on. According to a poll published by Israeli Chanel 12, 61% of the Israeli public prefers a deal which would return all Israeli hostages and end the war in Gaza, compared to only 25% who support expanding the fighting and occupying Gaza.
It seems like one must read news in Hebrew to understand that Israelis are more than just aggressors, just like one must read Arabic in order to understand that Palestinians are more than just victims. For example, anyone following Hamas-affiliated Telegram accounts in Arabic knows that besides images of Palestinian suffering, there are posts with images of suicide bombers standing next to bus wreckages accompanied by texts like "the buses carrying you will become coffins" and “our martyrs are on their way”. This isn’t just a reaction to Israel’s Gaza offensive. It’s been going on for decades. Long before October 7th, official Telegram posts by the al-Aqsa Brigades, a Fatah-aligned armed group, called the “heroes of the West Bank” to “stab, run over, slay and blow up”. “Oh heroes of Jerusalem”, one of them said, “the land is your land, what are you waiting for? The time has come to kill the Jews”. Naturally, Hamas takes it even further. Fathi Hamad, a member of the movement’s political bureau and former minister called on Palestinians to "buy knives for five shekels, sharpen them and decapitate the Jews". Naturally, these quotes are not available in Swedish and are not part of the Swedish discourse.
Still, Swedish politicians have every right to react to events in the Middle-East and in the current reality, there’s plenty of reasons to criticize Israel. There are, however, a few simple ideas which can make the criticism more grounded in reality and more balanced.
First, categorizing Hamas as a terrorist organization is correct, but it has an unwanted side effect. Because it deals with terror, some may assume that it’s a terror organization like others. But it’s not. It’s an army. Some may imagine it as a kind of Baader-Meinhof-like gang of youngsters in red and white keffiyehs squatting in abandoned buildings in down town Rafah and reading texts by Leon Trotsky. Nothing could be further from the truth. The Hamas military machine has brigades, battalions and commando units. It has strict military hierarchies and discipline as well as weapon manufacturing capabilities, a navy, military intelligence, cyber experts, a propaganda machine and thousands of young men to recruit, even during the IDF’s campaign. Hamas is clear about its end game – it’s a barbaric, fascist and fundamentalist movement committed to wipe the Jewish state off the face of the earth. Anyone who criticizes Israel’s war in Gaza can’t be taken seriously unless they also have a serious suggestion as to how to protect Israeli citizens from another massacre by the genocidal wing of the Palestinian national movement.
Second, sometimes one has to be honest even concerning political and military policies. Israeli society is deeply traumatised by a vicious attack which took the lives of more than 1,100 people. Everyone knows someone who was killed, a child who was kidnapped or a woman who was raped. Everyone saw the atrocities – homes burnet to ashes and dead bodies of all ages. Everyone is worried about a relative or a friend on the front lines. Everyone knows a survivor. Everyone is a survivor. The expectation that Israel will react in a calm, moderate and gentle way is absurd. This doesn’t mean that a wild storm of revenge is justifiable. It does mean that swedes would do well to ask themselves modestly and honestly how they react to crises.
Sweden was unaligned for over 200 years. Then a war started over 2,000 km away. Still, Sweden changed its policy almost over-night and joined NATO. In the same way, a handful of problems with integration caused the country which was known for its leaders asking its citizens to “open their hearts” to refugees because “their Europe has no walls”, made a former neo-Nazi party its second largest. It also reversed all of its immigration policies. These dramatic and, anything but calm and moderate changes, happened without one shot being fired at Sweden and without hundreds of Swedes being killed, raped or injured. Israel, on the other hand, apart from the horrors of October 7th, has had, 35,500 rockets fired directly at it in the last year and a half, targeting, displacing and killing civilians. Is Sweden really qualified to lecture it about reacting unproportionally? And finally, criticizing Israel is fine, but it shouldn’t be done according to the propaganda of Sweden’s so-called pro-Palestinian movement. For some reason, this movement has adopted an extremist narrative echoing Hamas propaganda which claims that the Jewish state has no right to exist. The slogan of a “free Palestine from the river to the sea” is a genocidal one, since it implies the elimination of Israel. The slogans calling for an “Intifada” are incitement for violence and the claim that Israelis are settler colonizer is historically ridiculous and politically dangerous. Those who criticizes Israel because they support a just peace and a political compromise in the Middle-East would do well to find better partners – instead of people who scream “crush Zionism” and are just as bad as those who automatically support everything Israel does; they can join hands with moderate Israelis who still believe in peace and are struggling to save their home from a never-ending cycle of violence.
Irene Levin turned the hundreds of notes her mother left behind after her death into a book chronicling the story of Norwegian Jews during the Holocaust.
When Irene Levin's mother was 96, she left her apartment in Oslo and moved into a Jewish old age home. Levin and her two children wanted her mother's – and their grandmother's – new home to feel like a miniature version of the elegant, meticulously arranged apartment she had lived in for decades. To do so, they moved in the gilded-upholstered furniture, the paintings, the silverware, and the mirrors her mother never passed without briefly checking her reflection. As part of the process, they also cleaned and organized the apartment.
It took Levin more than five years to understand the significance of what she found during that process. "There were notes everywhere," she told Haaretz in an interview. "Some were hidden in piles of newspapers, other were tucked away in drawers, on shelves, and in cupboards. Some had only one or two sentences, others were full pages written in my mother's handwriting. Although they weren't dated, her handwriting showed they spanned different time periods – the 1960s, 70s and 80s.
Levin's mother, Fanny Raskow, died in 2013 at the age of 101. "After she passed away, and after I retired, I started reading the notes," Levin recalls. "Mostly the notes were about World War II, but also about her upbringing before the war in a family that had escaped to what is now Lithuania. There were many unfinished sentences, especially those dealing with the arrest and deportation of her father, my grandfather. It's unclear who the notes were meant for. Maybe she wrote for herself, as a way of venting, or perhaps she hoped I would eventually find them. But she never mentioned them".
Levin says the notes revealed the dilemmas and choices her mother faced. "My mother blamed herself all her life for not being able to save her father," she says. "It haunted her constantly, until the end of her life. In all my upbringing there was a silence, and the war was never discussed openly. If it came up, it was always indirectly or through broken, incomplete sentences."
At a certain point, Levin realized that her mother's story was also the story of other Norwegian Jews. The result was her book, ("Vi snakket ikke om Holocaust. Mor, jeg og tausheten," Gyldendal, 2020, literally translated as "We Didn't Talk About the Holocaust: Mother, I, and the Silence"). The English version, titled "Everyday Silence and the Holocaust", was published by Routledge last year.
"My mother was trapped in a history that had been imposed on her, and one that for decades remained almost unspoken in Norwegian society," Levin says. "When I began researching in the National Archives of Norway in Oslo, I tried to see whether other Jewish families' stories were similar to that of my mother. I started asking new questions about my personal history and discovered experiences and events that had always been there, just not talked about.
"As a child, I simply acted on behaviors that seemed normal. As an adult – and as a professional – I began questioning my own story. Are the gaps in the stories significant? The fact that the life of our tiny nuclear family was defined by specific, historical events was something I simply knew. Just as one learns one's mother tongue intuitively, I learned about 'the war'. I lived my whole life in a community of World War II survivors, yet I still didn't really know much, despite believing I knew the whole story."
The story of Irene Levin is, to a great extent, the story of an entire generation of Norwegian Jews. Her grandparents' families emigrated to Norway around 1905 from Lithuania, fleeing poverty, hard conditions, and persecution. Levin explains that this migration differed from that of other Scandinavian countries. While Denmark and Sweden received "Ost-Juden" – Jews from Central Europe – there were already established Jewish communities in those countries. Some were prominent figures in society and openly identified as Jews. In Norway, by contrast, Jews were only permitted to enter starting in the mid-19th century. They were few in number, poor, and mostly uneducated.
Less than 40 years after her grandparents arrived in Norway, they and their children had to flee. This time, it was due to the German occupation during World War II, and their destination was Sweden, the neutral and thus safe neighboring country to the east. Levin's parents were among hundreds of Jews who left Norway as the Nazi persecution escalated, peaking in the fall of 1942 when hundreds of Norwegian Jews were deported to Auschwitz.
Levin's parents received help from a neighboring family, and their escape was aided by friends and members of the resistance movement, who hid them from the Gestapo and the Norwegian police in various locations. Their journey took 23 days. Levin's mother was pregnant during the escape, and she gave birth to Irene, her first and only child, in the Swedish town of Norrköping, where the family stayed until the war ended.
After the war, Levin, her mother, and father returned to Norway and began rebuilding their lives. She was less than two and a half years old and doesn't remember Liberation Day, but it's clear to her that even then, silence began to play a significant role.
"We didn't talk about the war," she recalls. "The fact that the family went through a disaster was always present, but it wasn't spoken about. In the 1950s, when I was ten, we could be sitting with guests around the dinner table, and someone might suddenly say something like, 'It was Norwegian police who made the arrests, not the Germans.' And someone would reply, 'It doesn't matter, we're not getting them back either way.' Then the conversation would switch to the previous topic, and no one would ask, 'What do you mean?' Everyone knew what it meant, they just didn't talk about it for decades."
Did the silence begin right at the end of the war?
"You can tell from the Norwegian press how knowledge about what had happened slowly evolved. The free press resumed operations as early as May 14, 1945. On the second day, the country's largest newspaper, Aftenposten, asked, 'What happened to our Jews?' The article reported, 'There is reason to fear that many Norwegian Jews have died,' and quickly added that no confirmation had been received. In the weeks that followed, reports ended with phrases like, 'There is no reason to lose hope.' On May 17, the same newspaper reported, 'We have 750 Jews in Germany. So far, we've heard from only nine or ten.' Slowly, the news worsened, and by May 23, it was reported that the Jews had been taken to 'the notorious concentration camp Auschwitz.'
"After a while, the topic was no longer written about. It resurfaced in the trials of Norwegians who had collaborated with the Nazis, and in the court case of the Norwegian traitor Vidkun Quisling [a Nazi collaborator who headed the government of Norway during the country's occupation by Nazi Germany] where two survivors testified. One of them, the later well-known psychiatrist Leo Eitinger, told of Jews being gassed. When asked by the judge if Norwegian Jews were treated in the same way, he answered 'Yes, I swear to God.'"
The outcome of the war was catastrophic for Levin's family. Thirty-two members of her extended family, including her maternal grandfather, were murdered in Auschwitz. Her grandfather was deported along with hundreds of other Norwegians –men, women, and children – on November 26, 1942. Levin's mother tried to spare him by putting him in a hospital but he was taken from there, arrested and, the next day, loaded onto the ship SS Donau. After four days in its cargo hold, he and the others arrived in Stettin, where they were crammed into cattle cars. On December 1, they reached Auschwitz-Birkenau. Levin's grandfather's exact fate remains unknown. He was one of an endless number of victims who didn't survive and never returned to Norway.
The facts about World War II in Norway and the fate of its Jews are well-known. On the eve of the war, Norway had around 2,800,000 inhabitants, of whom about 2,400 were Jews, including around 500 from other nationalities. During World War I, Norway had remained neutral, and hoped to maintain neutrality again during World War II. But events took a different turn. A Norwegian fascist party, Nasjonal Samling (The National Union), founded in 1933 by officer and politician Vidkun Quisling, offered the Nazis cooperation in taking over the country. Germany invaded Norway and Denmark on April 9, 1940, in Operation Weserübung. Denmark surrendered within hours, while battles in Norway lasted around two months before the German victory, achieved after the Allied forces retreated and Narvik – a strategic port used for shipping iron ore from Sweden – was captured.
As the Germans occupied the country, the Norwegian king and government fled and formed a government-in-exile in London. Civilian rule in Norway was overtaken by Nazi official Josef Terboven, appointed Reichskommissar by Hitler. Terboven governed through a pro-German puppet government headed by Quisling. The Norwegian parliament was dissolved, all parties banned except Quisling's, and the judiciary was subordinated to German control.
Persecution of the Jews began with sporadic decrees early in the occupation. In 1941, arrests were made, property confiscated, and some Jews were executed on false charges. In 1942, mass arrests of hundreds of Jews were carried out, most of whom, including Levin's grandfather, were transported on the SS Donau to Auschwitz. Another ship, the MS Gotenland, transported 158 more Jews to the same destination in February 1943. In total, 772 Norwegian Jews were arrested or deported. The oldest among them 80, the youngest an 8-week-old baby. Fewer than 40 came back. Those who survived the war had mostly escaped to neutral Sweden or Britain.
The facts were known for decades, but their meaning has been the subject of public debate – one that Irene Levin, after publishing her book, is now central to. Levin is a professor emeritus of social sciences at Oslo Metropolitan University. Her work started in the area of family studies with emphasis on new family forms and gender studies. In recent years, she has moved her area of research into history and Holocaust studies and has been closely connected to the Norwegian Center for Holocaust and Minority Studies, including working with surveys on antisemitism. She has worked with Soviet Jewry and been active in applying for Norwegian non-Jews receiving the Righteous Among the Nations award, granted by Yad Vashem.
Her recent book adds to numerous other publications she's written or edited, covering topics from social sciences to remembrance, and the Holocaust in Norway. Her new book generated considerable attention in Norway. Positive reviews appeared in major newspapers; she was interviewed by media and gave lectures across the country for over a year. Headlines focused on themes like "The Holocaust That Always Sat Within the Walls" or "The Mother Who Dealt with Trauma Through Silence." Critics noted that Levin "presents her family's history as a gateway to understanding the Jewish tragedy in Norway," "gives us a micro-history that opens wounds – with painful, terrifying details," and "breaks the silence, telling dramatic stories of fate."
Is the silence of the survivors and Norwegian society similar to that of survivors in other countries, or does it have unique characteristics?
"The phenomenon of silence is not unique, but circumstances vary. What's special about Norway is that it had a small number of Jews and geographically, with the long border with Sweden and the long coastline to England, one would think that it would be possible to hide more".
"Moreover, Norwegian Jews loved Norway. They learned the language and embraced the culture; they embraced the Norwegian love of nature and even changed their surnames to make them easier for their neighbors to pronounce. That's why what happened shocked them. They told themselves that they were arrested by the Gestapo – when, in fact, it was the Norwegian police.
"My mother always said: 'It took such a long time until we really understood, Irene.' Those who survived and returned weren't like the other Norwegians coming back after the war – the resistance fighters or political exiles. They weren't heroes. They won the war. The Jews had not won the war. They were deported or fled because of who they were, not what they did – and that came with a sense of shame. They asked themselves, 'What kind of Norwegians are we now?'"
Levin explains that other elements were involved. Some blamed themselves for failing to save relatives. They were grief-stricken, and many had to face the painful, often unsuccessful process of reclaiming seized property. Homes and businesses had been confiscated or auctioned off. Only in the 1990s, following a media campaign and the creation of a restitution committee, did Norwegian society begin to seriously reckon with the Holocaust. Survivors received compensation, and the Norwegian Center for Holocaust and Minority Studies was established.
"Until the 1990s, the story of the Jews was not integrated into the national historical narrative," Levin says. "It's not that people didn't know what happened – there were books and survivor testimonies – but Jews were not part of the main story. The Holocaust in Norway was like an appendix to Norwegian history, not part of the official narrative."
So, if the Holocaust wasn't part of Norway's war story, would it be accurate to say that Norway didn't take responsibility for what happened to its Jews?
"In three major historical books that shaped the narrative and were published in 1950, the extermination of the Jews was described merely as a 'detail'. Later, in the 1980s, six volumes titled 'Norway at War' asked: What happened to the Jews? The answer is mostly covered in the third volume, spanning 18 pages with photos. In the final section, the question is raised – could more have been done to help the Jews? could they have been warned about what deportation meant? the answer the book gives is that Jews in all occupied countries and even in the free world underestimated the cruelty of the SS. That is, responsibility was ultimately shifted to the Jews themselves – because they didn't resist arrest.
"When I first read these, I thought that they did the same as my mother, blaming herself for her father's arrest, as did society at large. Both the minority and the majority put the responsibility on the Jews. But I realized that when my mother blamed herself, she was taking the burden on herself, bearing the responsibility – as a Jewish woman and a daughter. When the author, as a representative of society, blamed the Jews, it was the opposite: it was the removal of responsibility."
Irene Levin and her mother on 1943. Photo: Irene Levin
Do you think this perspective still echoes in Norway in 2025, amid rising antisemitism and claims that Norwegian society is abandoning its Jews?
"For the Jews in Norway [the community numbers approximately 1,500 people], October 7 is an echo from the war, while knowing that it was not the same and that the Holocaust is unique. But Norwegian society at large did not hear the same echo. They only heard the voice from Hamas and very quickly defined the attack as a continuity of occupation.
"It was a shock that the empathy that the Jews in Norway had earned due their history during the war, suddenly disappeared. I never thought that during my lifetime, I would experience a rise of antisemitism. When researching the Holocaust and antisemitism, I was doing it as something belonging to the past to ensure it would not happen again. Suddenly, the Jewish state was attacked and its legitimacy was at stake. The Jewish voice has lost its legitimacy.
"My grandmother would always tell me: 'Die Juden sind schuldig' – the Jews are to blame, always. I thought that was relevant to the shtetl, not my everyday life. There is a shift in the perception of responsibility and legitimacy – the focus has changed, and it is no longer in our favor. I demonstrated on Women's Day and my fellow feminists didn't allow us to participate! They questioned whether there were even sexual assaults on October 7; and if they did accept that they happened, they minimized their significance, treating it as something that 'naturally' happens in every war.
"In my research on silence, an important factor is the interaction between the individual and society. After World War II, it was not only the Jews who were silent. The society at large was silent, too, but for different reasons. The space the minority has is shaped by the majority. It took Norwegian society 50 years before it recognized its responsibility in the atrocities. In the current situation, the Jewish voice has little legitimacy and the connection with society at large is of distrust. But can we Jews wait for the society to show us such a space? We have to take it. In that sense, it's like a revolution."
At the end of the interview, Levin returns to the topic of silence, which she sees as the common thread between the biographical and the historical. It's a silence shared by many survivors of the war, but Levin suggests that it is an even broader phenomenon.
"If you had asked me about the Holocaust while I was growing up – if you had asked me whether I knew about the war and what happened to the Jews – I would have said yes," she says. "But today I know that I didn't know. I didn't have the details; I didn't know what really happened. What I had was a sense that a catastrophe had occurred, and that it had happened to the Jews. Nothing more.
"And maybe that's similar to other disasters, like what happened on October 7. Even though information spreads much faster today, the feeling is similar. We know a disaster occurred, we think we understand it, but as time passes, we realize in hindsight that we didn't know everything, that we didn't grasp the scope, and that we still haven't dealt with all the implications."
דיויד סטברו 