The politics of antiSemitism Europes historical record and Irans Jewish community
The politics of anti-Semitism: Europe’s historical record and Iran’s Jewish community
TEHRAN — An accusation can be a powerful political weapon. Few carry the moral and emotional weight of anti-Semitism. Originally intended to identify and confront hostility towards Jewish people, the term has increasingly become part of the political vocabulary used to discredit adversaries, silence critics and delegitimize positions across different political arenas and geographical boundaries.

The problem arises when a legitimate struggle against discrimination is transformed into an instrument of political convenience. In recent years, accusations of anti-Semitism have increasingly accompanied criticism of Israel, opposition to its military policies and challenges to the political interests of its Western allies. In some cases, the distinction between hostility towards Jews and opposition to the policies of a government has been deliberately blurred.
Iran has found itself at the center of this debate.
Iranian Foreign Ministry spokesman Esmaeil Baghaei has challenged the premise behind accusations that anti-Semitism is embedded in Iranian society, arguing that the phenomenon is essentially European and has no connection to Iran's religion, beliefs, culture or civilization.
"Anti-Semitism is essentially a European phenomenon," he has said on Monday, describing the accusations against Iran as a stereotype repeatedly circulated and reinforced by international media.
To understand the historical dimension of his argument, it is worth looking at Europe's own record.
Europe's long history of persecution
For centuries, Jewish communities across Europe faced systematic exclusion, discriminatory legislation, forced conversions, expulsions and violent attacks. These were not isolated incidents but recurring features of the political and religious landscape of medieval and early modern Europe.
In 1290, England's King Edward I ordered the expulsion of the country's entire Jewish population. The decision followed years of discriminatory legislation, restrictions on economic activity, heavy taxation and persecution. Jewish property was confiscated, and thousands were forced into exile.
Sixteen years later, in 1306, King Philip IV ordered the expulsion of Jews from France, with their property seized by the Crown. In Spain, the Alhambra Decree of 1492 gave Jews the choice of conversion to Christianity or departure. Portugal followed in 1496–97, forcing its Jewish population into conversion or exile.
The violence was not limited to royal decrees. In 1242, thousands of Jewish religious manuscripts, including copies of the Talmud, were publicly burned in Paris. During the Black Death in the fourteenth century, Jewish communities were accused of poisoning wells, prompting massacres and expulsions in several European territories.
These episodes form part of Europe's documented historical record. They reveal a long and deeply troubling relationship between European political and religious authorities and their Jewish populations.
Baghaei argues that Europe should examine this history, as well as its contemporary record, before directing accusations of anti-Semitism at other countries. He points to reports of attacks on Jewish cemeteries, synagogues requiring protection by barbed wire and Jewish institutions removing identifying signs to protect themselves from potential attacks.
"Why is Iran being accused?" he asks. "They are trying to project their own problems onto others."
A Jewish community with deep roots in Iran
Iran's relationship with its Jewish population has a history stretching back more than 2,700 years. Jewish communities were established in Persian territories during antiquity, and their presence continued through successive dynasties, political transformations and religious changes.
Following Cyrus the Great's conquest of Babylon in 539 BCE, many Jews remained within the Persian Empire rather than returning to Jerusalem. Over subsequent centuries, Jewish communities developed across Iranian cities, including Tehran, Isfahan, Shiraz, Hamadan and Yazd.
Their historical presence is still visible in synagogues, cemeteries, religious shrines and other sites scattered throughout the country.
The Islamic Republic's Constitution formally recognizes Judaism as a religious minority. Article 13 guarantees recognized religious minorities the right to perform their religious ceremonies and conduct personal affairs according to their religious laws. Article 64 reserves one seat in the Islamic Consultative Assembly for the Jewish community.
According to the Tehran Jewish Committee, Iran's Jewish population was estimated at approximately 25-30,000. The community maintains religious institutions and continues to observe its traditions.
Baghaei draws particular attention to the number of Jewish places of worship in the country. In Yazd alone, he says, there are thirteen or fourteen synagogues, while the total number across Iran is approximately one hundred. He also points to the tombs of Jewish prophets and prominent religious figures that have remained part of Iran's historical and religious landscape.
"One only needs to look at the figures," he argues. These are not merely historical monuments; they are evidence of a Jewish presence that has remained part of Iranian society for centuries.
Judaism is not Israel, and Israel is not all Jews
Perhaps the most important distinction in the spokesman's argument concerns the tendency to conflate Jewish identity with the Israeli state and the ideology of Zionism.
Judaism is a religion, Jewish identity encompasses religious, cultural and ethnic dimensions, Israeli identity is a made-up, and Zionism is a political/idealogical movement. These categories overlap for some people, but they are not interchangeable.
The Israeli government cannot claim to speak for every Jew in the world, just as the actions of that government cannot reasonably be attributed to Jewish communities simply because they could share a religious or cultural identity.
This distinction becomes particularly important during periods of military confrontation. Iran is engaged in a direct conflict with Israel, a rogue state whose political leadership frequently invokes its claimed responsibility to represent Jewish interests worldwide. Yet, as Baghaei argues, opposition to the Israeli government's policies and military actions should not be interpreted as hostility towards Judaism.
"Despite the fact that we are engaged in an all-out war with a regime that falsely claims to represent the Jewish people, how many instances of attacks on Jewish holy sites have we witnessed?" he asks.
He maintains that the Iranian public is sufficiently aware of this distinction not to associate the actions of the Israeli government with Jewish people or their faith.
"The Iranian people are far too enlightened and civilized to attribute the actions of a genocidal regime to the followers of Judaism," he says.
When an accusation becomes a geopolitical instrument
The distinction between combating anti-Semitism and using the accusation for political purposes is not merely a matter of terminology. It has direct implications for international relations.
When criticism of Israel is automatically presented as evidence of anti-Jewish prejudice, legitimate political debate risks being restricted. When an entire nation is portrayed as inherently hostile to Jews, its people and their historical relationships with Jewish communities can disappear behind a political narrative.
For Tehran, this portrayal serves a broader purpose: contributing to Iran's international demonization, reinforcing its isolation and creating a moral justification for punitive measures, including military action.
The historical presence of Jewish communities in Iran, their functioning synagogues and religious institutions, and their representation in the country's parliament offer a different picture from the one often presented in political accusations directed at Tehran. There is no established pattern of Iranian Jews being subjected to systematic physical violence on account of their Jewish identity. The community continues to maintain its religious traditions and institutions, while Judaism remains constitutionally recognized. These facts deserve to be considered in any serious assessment of Iran's relationship with its Jewish population.
But the fundamental distinction remains: Jews are not synonymous with Israelis, Israelis are not synonymous with Zionists, and criticism of Zionism or the Israeli government is not automatically anti-Semitic.
The struggle against anti-Semitism deserves to be universal, consistent and independent of political convenience. It should protect Jewish people, their faith, their heritage and their rights—not become a shield against criticism or a pretext for hostility towards entire nations.
As Baghaei's argument suggests, a society's relationship with its Jewish population cannot be judged solely through the political rhetoric directed at it. History, institutions and the everyday lives of its communities must also be examined.
And if the fight against anti-Semitism is to retain its moral authority, it cannot be reduced to a geopolitical instrument.
source: tehrantimes.com