Rabbi Barbara Aiello
My Great Aunt Filomena (z”l) was a force to be reckoned with. She was a tall, strong, Sefardic Jewish woman, who, although self-taught, was considered highly educated. When WW I broke out, Filomena, her husband and her son all of whom were on holiday in the US, were now blocked from returning home to Italy, “What a tragedy,” the family said, but Filomena saw this turn of events not as a setback but an opportunity.
In short order Filomena set up her small business as she had done in the “Old Country,” which consisted of writing and reading letters for Italian Americans who did not have those skills. As the years passed, Filomena’s business acumen grew to include the creation of a home-style local bank where she established individual accounts for her neighbors (no more shoeboxes under the bed) and lent money to family and friends when she felt that an idea or a need had merit.
As time went on, Filomena became well known in her Pittsburgh suburb, Homewood, and as WW II drew to a close and reports of atrocities against Jews began to surface, Filomena was often asked her opinion of the antisemitism in Europe that gave rise to the Holocaust. And her answer was always the same. “We don’t need studies or committees to discuss the causes of antisemitism. Those groups mean well but they just talk it to death- “sega la segatura,” ( Italian for “saw the sawdust”) she would say and go on to explain her point of view;
“We Jews teach our children about their religion and culture from the time they are babies. At three we teach them Hebrew and when they are just beginning to mature, at 13, we give them the opportunity to stand before their community and explain their Torah reading. We give our children the tools for success. So it’s no surprise that they are successful. And for this we are hated.”
“What really makes me sad,” Filomena would say, “is that any other culture, if they were willing to do the work, could do what we Jews do and have the same success we have.”
I heard Filomena’s wise words for the first time in 1955 when I was eight years old. I had been the brunt of an ugly antisemitic slur, something my father, who fought the Nazis in Europe, didn’t think would happen in America. My dad shared the incident with Filomena who replied as she always did – that antisemitism is fueled by jealousy of Jewish success.
That was 70 years ago but Joshua Hoffman must have been channeling Great Aunt Filomena when he wrote a recent article for the online publication, Future of Jewish, titled, “The Real Reason People Hate Jews.” Hoffman writes, “In human history, the most persecuted minorities aren’t always the poorest or the weakest; they are often the ones who, against all odds, succeed.”
Things were good – well, not really. Things were somewhat better when we Jews were victims; when we were needy and dependent on the largess of others to get us started in a new country. Fresh out of the camps, the Jewish refugees from blood-soaked Europe needed the aid provided by myriad social services and charitable agencies to help them rebuild their lives.
But then, as Joshua Hoffman succinctly points out, “But then Jewish communities in America began to dominate in business, medicine, academia, law, and culture — when Holocaust survivors and their children went from refugee camps to university chairs and boardrooms in a single generation — the tone changed. Suddenly, our success became suspicious… (now) we were “privileged,” “white-adjacent,” or worse, part of the oppressive class.”
I find this phenomenon to be true throughout the European diaspora. I live and work in Italy and as rabbi for a small community my experiences as a Jew corroborate what Joshua Hoffman is talking about.
Ask any middle or high schooler from Turin to Trapani what they know about Jews and the answer is “The Holocaust.” From there students will speak about World War II, the camps, the torture and the murder of the Jews – information gleaned from the Holocaust education lessons taught throughout Italy and most European countries during Holocaust memorial events held in January each year.
Well-meaning though these programs are, over the years they’ve given students the impression that Judaism is about death and Jews are seen only as victims, or as author Dara Horn puts it in her book, aptly titled, “People Love Dead Jews.” Ms. Horn emphasizes that this particular fascination with Jewish deaths obscures the unique culture that characterizes Jewish life.
Which was Great Aunt Filomena’s point. Jewish accomplishment is worth emphasizing and Jewish resilience is worth celebrating, especially because both can be had by any culture that wishes to give it a try.
Rabbi Barbara Aiello lives and works in Italy in the “toe” of the Italian “boot.” This article first appeared in Times of Israel. Contact her at Rabbi@RabbiBarbara.com


I bought Dara Horn’s book at Barnes and Noble when it came out and thought it was terrific even though I discovered I wasn’t authentically Jewish because I crave stories with happy endings and apparently that’s very un-Jewish.
Jewish success only breeds one kind of antisemitism. That kind of prejudice has developed against other marginalized ethnic groups that had to play a middle-man role, eg., ethnic Chinese in Malaysia and other Asian countries, Indians in Africa, ironically considering Mamdani’s family, upwardly mobile West Indian blacks in African-American society.
But, Jews have been and are hated for opposite qualities, being poor, being rich, being Capitalists, being Communists, being racists, being anti-racists, being doctrinaire religious fanatics, being atheists. Being unassimilale foreigners, social climbers fitting in too easily. Controlling institutions they largely created because they were shut out only to be shut out by all the others they welcomed in.
Then there’s all the religious craziness.
There’s always an excuse and it morphs to fit the pet hatreds of that particular time and place.
Today, Jews are accused of being warmongers. Hitler accused the Jews of peace-mongering! Though it was the German generals who wanted the armistice in WWI.
Unfortunately, there are no pat explanations and solutions. This dilemma is nearly as old as recorded history.
I’m reminded of the line from the Pirkeit Avot: “ It is not your duty to finish the work, [little chance of
that} but neither are you at liberty to neglect it”.
That’s why we need novels, plays, tv dramas. and movies with happy endings. 😀 (Shabbat serves a similar psychological safety valve function.)
And Zionism.
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Though to paraphrase Arnold Schoenberg – who said there’s still a lot of good music to be written in C Major – who, himself, mainly wrote depressing atonal and 12 tone music – in reverse, so to speak – there’s still a lot of worthwhile depressing autobiographies yet to be written.
Which, now that I think if it, is kind of how of Dara Horn seems to view the Tanakh. She may have a point. Maybe that’s why I’ve always had such trouble slogging through it.
Hence, the classic quip: “They tried to kill us. They failed. Let’s eat.”