Valentina Pisanty: "Turning the term 'antisemitic' into a political tool has been nefarious"
Semiotics. Author of 'Antisemitic!'
BarcelonaThere is nothing innocent about confusing antisemitism with anti-Zionism. Italian semiologist Valentina Pisanty (Milan, 1969) asks a rather provocative question at the beginning of Antisemita! (Comanegra, translated by Marta Nin): "How is it possible that in the name of the memory of the Holocaust we have collectively thrown open the doors to the return of ultranationalists in Europe and their consolidation in Israel?" A professor at the University of Bergamo and author of essays on interpretive semiotics, fairy tales, humor, political discourse, the rhetoric of racism, and memory, she analyzes how the use of the word antisemite has changed. Pisanty argues that the word antisemite "has been hijacked" by the Israeli right with the support of many international organizations officially tasked with fighting racism and antisemitism. All of this, together, according to Pisanty, with the approval of almost all Western governments.
What exactly do we mean when we use the words antisemite and anti-Zionist?
— It is very important to distinguish between the two words. Antisemitism is a form of racism. It presumes that any Jewish individual conforms to a stereotype and defends theories such as Jews trying to govern the world against the interests of others. Anti-Zionism, on the other hand, is a political stance that can take many different forms, because Zionism also includes diverse currents. There is not just one form of Zionism. Whatever nuance we give to Zionism or anti-Zionism, it is a political stance. This does not exclude the possibility that anti-Zionists may use representations or arguments that come from the antisemitic arsenal, but conceptually they are different.
They also have different historical origins.
— The word antisemitism was introduced into European languages towards the end of the 19th century, originating from Germany in the 1870s, where the German Anti-Semitic League existed. They were fundamentally racist individuals who opposed the emancipation process of European, especially German, Jews. They believed that Jews formed a kind of state within a state, conspiring against Germany. This initial meaning expanded over time and acquired more layers. Towards the end of the 19th and beginning of the 20th century, the meaning consolidated as we know it today, especially with the dissemination of the Protocols of the Elders of Zion, later adopted by fascist and Nazi leaders. After World War II, no one proudly declared themselves antisemitic without being globally condemned. This does not mean the phenomenon disappeared, but rather that practically no one explicitly identified as antisemitic. Anti-Zionism is different because we have a compound word: anti + Zionism. Anti-Zionism refers to opposing a specific political stance. There are many variants: some anti-Zionists question the history that led to the creation of the State of Israel; others, especially today, reject specific ethno-nationalist Zionist positions that justify any means to ensure the survival of the Jewish state.
When did it stop being just a description and become a political weapon?
— In the early 21st century, the far-right governments of Israel saw the strategic potential of the term, which could serve to delegitimize any opposition to their policies. They hijacked the term with the cooperation of institutions in the United States and Europe —such as the Anti-Defamation League, the Simon Wiesenthal Center, and the American Jewish Committee— and the approval of most Western governments. A new definition of antisemitism was promoted that broadens the meaning to include certain political stances against Israel. Turning the term antisemitic into a political tool has been detrimental to democratic debate and academic freedom.
The book also discusses how Holocaust memory has been used.
— It is complex. Since the fall of the Berlin Wall, the memory of the Holocaust has become a totem for the West, especially for building post-communist European identity. This has empowered certain “memory keepers”, such as the aforementioned institutions, who decide what can and cannot be said. This has reinforced political narratives and limited the space for open debate.
It is also quite critical of universities and how debate has been limited with the argument of protecting students from uncomfortable debates or those that may hurt certain sensitivities. Who do these limitations benefit?
— Those who benefit the most are those who control the narrative and political legitimacy, while Democrats and liberals are excluded. This restricts public debate. Universities should be places to confront difficult ideas, not just spaces “se
What happens when a concept loses its analytical value and is used as a weapon against any criticism of Israel?
— The consequences can be devastating. In the United States, it has been used to expel students and professors, cancel events, and silence opposition, even beyond the debate about Israel. In the United Kingdom, it was used to remove Jeremy Corbyn from the Labour Party [a report by the Equality and Human Rights Commission concluded that the party had mishandled some antisemitism complaints]. In Germany, pro-Palestinian cultural events are being canceled. These practices threaten pluralism and democratic debate.
Does "never again" consider itself a universal moral imperative? Or do you think it has also become a political tool.
— It has always had two readings. One universalist, which says: "never again genocide, racism or dehumanization for anyone". And, another, particularist. According to Meir Kahane [Orthodox rabbi born in the United States in 1932 and died in 1990, defender of Jewish supremacism] and current figures, such as Bezalel Smotrich [far-right Israeli politician and current Minister of Finance] and Itamar Ben-Gvir [far-right Israeli politician and lawyer, today Minister of Security], "never again" only applies to Jews, and the State of Israel is the main guarantee. This turns a universal imperative into a tribal slogan, polarizes communities, redefines international discourse, and delegitimizes dissent.
When the word antisemitic is used to control internal discipline and silence dissent, what are the implications for democracy?
— The implications are very serious. Real antisemitism must be fought, but when the accusation is broadened to political disagreements, it becomes an instrument for delimiting who can speak. This limits pluralism, encourages self-censorship, and can extend to other topics, thereby weakening democracy.