The Fight to Make Meaning Out of a Massacre
PITTSBURGH—For nearly a year now, the peaceful, friendly Pittsburgh neighborhood of Squirrel Hill has been plastered with signs—taped on windows, forked in yards, covering telephone poles. They feature hearts and Stars of David, often superimposed on the tricolored logo of the Pittsburgh Steelers. They are reminders of the October shooting that killed 11 Jews as they prayed inside the Tree of Life synagogue, poster-board talismans of solidarity and defiance. This community, the signs declare, is “stronger than hate.”
In the months since the shooting, not everyone in the Pittsburgh Jewish community has agreed on what it means to be “stronger than hate,” much less on why the attack happened in the first place. Three different views, roughly, have emerged. Some people have called for the return of American civility, preaching that tolerance and dialogue can beat back the shooter’s unfathomable bigotry. Others believe this shooting was part of the Jew hatred that reemerges in every generation, convinced that it might have taken place no matter the state of American politics.
And then there are the Jews who have turned to activism, guided by the conviction that the right political solutions can prevent future injustices. This response to the shooting, more than any other, exposes the hopefulness, and fragility, of the American Jewish experience. Jews in the United States are safer than Jews have been anywhere at any point in history. That stability has nurtured a liberal theology that prizes tikkun olam—a dedication to “repairing the world”—above all else. But this deadly act of anti-Semitism is testing whether universal, progressive principles adequately address targeted violence against Jews. Politics can feel like a thin solution to evil.
Pittsburgh’s synagogue shooting stands as the deadliest attack on Jews on American soil—a jolt back to other times in history, in other places, when violence was part of the rhythm of Jewish life. The shooting has revived old debates about how Jews should relate to power: Accommodate reigning leaders, or push against them? Prioritize protection of the community, or try to change the world for others? The Jews of Pittsburgh feel called to do something constructive with their tragedy, to make some sort of meaning out of what happened to them. At stake is a specifically American vision of Judaism that does not have to be tied to victimhood and violence, and that sees a possibility for justice in the world.
S of the Pittsburgh Jewish community, feels distinctly Jewish. The kosher grocery store and pizza shops are landmarks. A clock tower marking time in Hebrew letters, rather than Arabic numerals, sits atop the Jewish Community Center at the central intersection of Forbes and Murray Avenues. Those who
