REFLECTIONS | Synagogue Attack Exposes Britain’s Cauldron Of Hate | Sunanda K. Datta-Ray

Comparing it with race and religious killings in South Asia, some might dismiss the October 2 attack in a Manchester synagogue as much ado about nothing. But the loss of three lives can’t be ignored in a country that rightly regards one death as one too many. Moreover, it exposed the cauldron of hate and violence that simmers even below the placid surface of Western sophistication and can erupt in far more lasting discord.

The sequence of events seems like a nightmare now compared with the Manchester in whose warm friendship my adolescent years were spent. There were Jews aplenty then, and being among the richest Mancunians, they invited good-natured jokes about their privileged position. Bus conductors sometimes referred to the rich southern suburb of Didsbury as “Yidsbury” (Yiddish being the German-Jewish dialect) while Palatine Road inevitably became “Palestine Road”. One also heard variants of the North London joke, “Give us back Golders Green and we’ll give you Israel!” Golders Green is a north London suburb with a high population of well-to-do Jews.

But while there was no overt animosity even when Manchester’s 30,000 Jews represented the highest Jewish concentration in Britain after London, there was an undercurrent of “them and us”. In Howard Spring’s popular 1934 novel, Shabby Tiger, a working-class English boy who falls in love with a middle-class girl is overwhelmed to discover she is Jewish and thus his social inferior. “They’re not English, you know” an older English student at Manchester University told me in the 1950s. “You’re as English as any Jew who lives here!”

Lately, English Jews have been complaining of the rising tide of anti-Semitism. Britain’s chief rabbi, Sir Ephraim Mirvis, speaks of “a war for the survival of Jews”. While a strong sense of victimhood inspires the Jewish community, it isn’t clear whether they accuse others of being anti-Semitic or anti-Zionist. Few Jews are prepared to admit that Israel has done, or can do, any wrong. The current Israeli campaign against Gaza and its inhabitants has aroused strong resentment in Britain, where there is sympathy for Palestinians who are seen as victims of Israeli brutality. But those who object to the genocide in Gaza are not necessarily anti-Semitic. That crucial distinction often seems lost in the chaos.

The crisis came to a head when Prime Minister Keir Starmer’s predecessor as Labour Party leader, Jeremy Corbyn, was ousted from his position. Labour had been plagued since 2016 -- a year after Mr Corbyn was elected leader -- by allegations of anti-Jewish racism which is against British law; and in May 2019 the Equalities and Human Rights Commission said that Labour had broken the law. Mr Corbyn responded with a statement that anti-Semitism was “absolutely abhorrent” and “one anti-Semite is one too many” in the party. But he added: “The scale of the problem was also dramatically overstated for political reasons by our opponents inside and outside the party, as well as by much of the media.”

After another 30 minutes or so, Sir Keir issued his own statement emphasising that those who believed the issue of anti-Semitism in the party had been “exaggerated” or were a “factional attack” were also “part of the problem and… should be nowhere near the Labour Party”. Mr Corbyn remained Labour leader for four months while Sir Keir Starmer was elected to replace him. Mr Corbyn’s resignation as Labour leader formally took effect in April 2020.

Although anti-Semitism was the most obvious disputed area, Mr Corbyn’s leadership differed with the parliamentary Labour Party on a host of issues, including radical economic policies, Western alliances, his wish to leave Nato, weapons and lower taxes. Britain was probably not ready for such a drastic shift to the left.

The Manchester attack seems to have little to do with Labour politics and more with public sentiment. The ham-handedness of the police may have compounded matters. We know nothing about the motives of the 35-year-old alleged assassin of Syrian descent, Jihad al-Shamie, whose first name may (or may not) have reflected his personal ideology. He figures on no police list and was killed by the police before he could be questioned. One of the two other victims of the Heaton Park Hebrew Congregation synagogue outrage in northern Manchester -- Adrian Daulby, 53, and Melvin Cravitz, 66, although which one nobody knows -- was also killed by a police bullet.

Muslims comprise 22 per cent of Manchester’s population, according to the 2021 census. David Lloyd George, British PM from 1916 to 1922, is on record saying: “We are the greatest Mahomedan power in the world and one-fourth of the population of the British Empire is Mahomedan. There have been no more loyal adherents to the throne and no more effective and loyal supporters of the Empire in its hour of trial.” Mahatma Gandhi and Winston Churchill both echoed his sentiment.

Most Muslims are sub-continentals, many being from Bangladesh. They live peaceably on the whole, economic refugees who are grateful for the opportunity to earn a decent livelihood. Paki-bashing was a short-lived aberration. Britain’s home secretary, Shabana Mahmood, is of Pakistani origin, as is London’s mayor, Sir Sadiq Khan. Al-Shamie is bound to have been aware that Yom Kippur, the day that he struck, is the holiest day in the Jewish calendar.

The Jewish presence in Manchester seems to date from the late 18th century, with many immigrants coming from Liverpool. It has led to some curious reports. Two busts of Chaïm Weizmann, the man who was to become Israel’s first President and who taught at Manchester at the beginning of the 20th century, were stolen from the university at the end of last year.

In January 2025, Liverpool’s under-18 team visited the Manchester Jewish Museum as part of the 80th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz, the aim being to give young people a better understanding of Judaism and the history of the Holocaust in order to combat prejudice.

But prejudice persists despite such PR exercises. So does anti-Semitic sentiment. The two lesser-known cases of anti-Jewish violence in ancient times -- the genocide of Jews in Alexandria in 115-117 CE, and Christian violence towards Jews in the early Byzantine period (300-450 CE) -- are taught to young visitors in Manchester to enable them to understand better the underlying forces behind violence against Jews. But I wonder if instead of having a pacifying effect, such tales leave behind only a trail of smouldering resentment.

That might help partly to explain the bloodthirsty revenge that Israel is exacting in Gaza. Homeless Palestinian refugees there are paying dearly for the crimes of the Nazis through the ages.