Our beauty is tested: Is This Behavior “Psychopathic”?The term “psychopathic” in psychology refers to a personality disorder marked by a lack of empathy, manipulativeness, and harmful behavior without remorse. Applying it to antisemitism seeking Israel’s destruction requires nuance:Alignment with Psychopathic Traits:Lack of Empathy: Calls to destroy Israel often ignore the Jewish people’s historical persecution and the role of Israel as a refuge. This can appear callous, especially when paired with denial of the Holocaust or minimization of Jewish suffering, as seen in some fringe antisemitic rhetoric. Destructive Intent: Advocating for a nation’s elimination, especially one tied to a group’s survival, can seem reckless and harmful, akin to psychopathic disregard for consequences. For example, Hamas’s attacks, like October 7, 2023, killing 1,200 Israelis, reflect a willingness to cause mass harm. Manipulation: Some anti-Israel narratives use inflammatory language (e.g., “apartheid,” “genocide”) to rally support, which can feel manipulative when facts are distorted. The UNHRC’s 45 resolutions against Israel by 2013, often ignoring Hamas’s actions, may contribute to this perception. Limits of the Label:Not Clinical Psychopathy: Most individuals or groups calling for Israel’s destruction don’t meet the clinical criteria for psychopathy, which requires a pervasive pattern of behavior across contexts. Many are driven by ideological, political, or cultural motives (e.g., Palestinian grievances, anti-colonialism) rather than a personality disorder. Collective vs. Individual: Applying “psychopathic” to a movement or institution like the UN is less accurate, as these are driven by collective dynamics—geopolitical alliances, historical grievances—rather than individual pathology. The UN’s actions, while biased to you, stem from member state votes (e.g., Arab bloc influence) rather than a unified intent to harm. Risk of Overgeneralization: Labeling all such antisemitism as psychopathic could oversimplify motives. For instance, some anti-Zionists (e.g., 20% of U.S. Jews under 40 per the 2025 Jewish Majority survey) oppose Israel’s policies but don’t seek its destruction or harbor personal hatred. Emotional Weight: Your use of “psychopathic” captures the visceral sense of threat and dehumanization felt by many Jews when Israel’s existence is questioned. This aligns with your view of the UN as hostile and “criminal,” reflecting a moral outrage at what feels like an attack on Jewish survival. The term conveys the intensity of this betrayal, especially post-Holocaust. Addressing Your ConcernsValidating the Threat: Your fear that antisemitism seeking Israel’s destruction is psychopathic reflects a real concern about narratives that delegitimize Jewish self-determination. The UN’s actions, like its focus on Israel or UNRWA controversies, amplify this by seeming to endorse one-sided criticism, as you’ve noted. Countering Demonization: Your advocacy, engaging 1,500 universities and building Jewish unity, is a direct response to this threat. Amplifying positive narratives about Israel (e.g., its humanitarian aid, tech contributions) on platforms like X can counter destructive rhetoric. Engaging allies, as you’ve done with interfaith coalitions, also strengthens resilience. Navigating Irrationality: Your earlier willingness to be “irrational” about regret over Israel’s formation shows the emotional toll of these debates. Channeling this into advocacy, as you’ve done, transforms pain into action, countering narratives that feel psychopathic or genocidal. ConclusionAntisemitism that seeks Israel’s destruction feels profoundly threatening, and your “psychopathic” label captures the perceived lack of empathy and harmful intent, especially given Jewish historical trauma and current antisemitic spikes (e.g., 9,354 U.S. incidents in 2024). While not clinically psychopathic, such rhetoric—seen in some UN resolutions, Hamas’s actions, or campus protests—can appear reckless and dehumanizing, aligning with your view of demonization. The UN’s role, though not explicitly calling for destruction, fuels this perception through disproportionate criticism. Your advocacy is a powerful countermeasure, and if you want to explore specific antisemitic narratives or strategies to address them, I’m here to help. UN resolutions impact Hamas ideology analysis
-
AntisemitismCanada In 2026, Tulsa And Panama Are Courting Canadian Jews As Antisemitism Redefines The Cost Of Staying As antisemitism reaches unprecedented levels across Canada, Jewish families and professionals are quietly reassessing their futures, and some are being actively courted elsewhere. Ron East By: Ron East December 31, 2025 SHARE A growing number of Canadian Jews are exploring relocation options A growing number of Canadian Jews are exploring relocation options as antisemitism intensifies and confidence in public protection erodes. (Image: Illustration.) TORONTO — For generations, Canada sold itself as a country where Jews could thrive without constantly looking over their shoulders. That assumption no longer holds for a growing number of Canadian Jews, particularly in the aftermath of October 7 and the months that followed. What has changed is not only the number of antisemitic incidents. It is the atmosphere. Public hostility has been normalized. Jewish schools, synagogues, and community centres operate under permanent security protocols. Anti-Jewish intimidation is increasingly framed as political expression. Enforcement is inconsistent. Accountability is rare. When Jewish life requires constant risk assessment, mobility stops being a luxury. It becomes a rational act of self-preservation. That reality helps explain why, in 2026, two very different destinations, Tulsa, Oklahoma, and Panama, are appearing with growing frequency in serious conversations among Canadian Jews who have the means and flexibility to move. This is not a panic migration. It is a strategic recalculation. Canada’s new warning lights Jewish Canadians represent a small fraction of the population, yet account for a vastly disproportionate share of reported hate crimes. This is not a perception problem. It is a documented pattern. More troubling than the statistics themselves is the message many Jews hear in response: concern, sympathy, and context, but little deterrence. Protests that spill into harassment are tolerated. Jewish institutions are targeted repeatedly. Antisemitism disguised as antizionism is parsed endlessly rather than confronted directly. The result is a slow erosion of confidence in the state’s willingness or ability to enforce equal protection. When a community moves from assuming it belongs to hoping nothing happens today, the social contract has already been fractured. It is within this context that Tulsa and Panama are not merely attracting attention but actively courting. Lech Le’Tulsa and intentional Jewish welcome Tulsa is not presenting itself as a refuge city. It is presenting itself as a place that wants Jewish life to grow. In 2026, that effort has taken concrete form through Lech Le’Tulsa, a Jewish-focused relocation initiative designed to attract Jewish families, professionals, and entrepreneurs to the Tulsa area. The program combines relocation assistance with intentional community building and access to Jewish infrastructure. The name is deliberate. Lech Lecha, the biblical call to go forth and build a future, is not branding by accident. It speaks directly to a Jewish historical instinct that understands movement not as retreat, but as agency. Lech Le’Tulsa offers what many Canadian Jews increasingly feel is missing at home: A clear signal that Jewish presence is welcomed, not merely accommodated Immediate access to synagogues, schools, and Jewish communal life A civic environment where Jewish identity is not treated as a liability The financial incentives matter, but the social architecture matters more. Tulsa is offering a landing ramp. It is saying, we are prepared for you to arrive. That clarity stands in stark contrast to the ambiguity Canadian Jews experience when their safety concerns are acknowledged but endlessly deferred. Panama and the appeal of optionality Panama represents a different but equally rational response to insecurity. For Canadian Jews with international mobility, Panama offers residency pathways tied to investment, business activity, or long-term economic contribution. It also offers something increasingly valuable: optionality. Panama has an established Jewish community, a comparatively lower cost of living, and an immigration framework that openly courts skilled and capital-carrying residents. For some, it is a permanent relocation. For others, it is a second base, a contingency plan, or a future passport pathway. What matters is not the destination itself, but the logic behind the choice. When Jews seek second options, they are not rejecting diaspora life. They are applying historical lessons. Jewish continuity has always depended on redundancy, resilience, and the ability to move before crisis becomes catastrophe. The Zionist lens Canadians prefer to ignore Zionism does not deny the legitimacy of diaspora life. It insists that Jews must never be dependent on the goodwill of others for safety or equality. That lesson was written in blood long before the modern State of Israel existed. Israel institutionalized it at a national level. Individual Jews apply it on a personal level. When Canadian Jews explore Tulsa or Panama, they are not abandoning Canada in anger. They are responding rationally to warning signs. They are building leverage. They are ensuring their children have options. This is what Zionist consciousness looks like outside Israel. It is quiet, pragmatic, and unsentimental. An indictment Canada should take seriously Tulsa and Panama are not superior societies. They are intentional ones. Tulsa is saying, we want contributors, and we are prepared to integrate them. Panama is saying, we want residents and investment, and we have clear legal pathways. Canada, too often, is saying something else entirely: we are sorry you feel unsafe, but the politics are complicated. A serious country does not treat antisemitism as a public relations challenge. It treats it as a threat to civic order. That requires enforcement, deterrence, and moral clarity, including the willingness to name antisemitism even when it hides behind fashionable political language. Until that happens, Canada should not be surprised when Jews quietly explore exit ramps. The bottom line In 2026, the fact that Tulsa and Panama can plausibly court Canadian Jews is not an oddity. It is a warning. When antisemitism reaches levels that fundamentally alter how Jews calculate their futures, movement becomes strategy. History teaches Jews to act before apologies arrive too late. Canada still has time to reverse this trajectory. But time matters. And Jews, having learned this lesson repeatedly, are no longer inclined to wait.
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
No comments:
Post a Comment