The moral courage of public dissent

As a non-Jewish Canadian, I have watched our public conversation about Israel and Palestine become increasingly polarized. One feature of that debate has particularly caught my attention—not the disagreements themselves, but the moral courage required of Jewish Canadians who publicly dissent from influential voices within their own community.

Ironically, many non-Jewish Canadians who may have little familiarity with Jewish history assume that disagreement is somehow un-Jewish. The opposite is true. Debate has been central to Jewish intellectual life for centuries. The Talmud itself preserves arguments rather than erasing them.

To outsiders, minority communities can easily appear to speak with one voice. In Canada, organizations such as the Centre for Israel and Jewish Affairs (CIJA), Jewish Federations of Canada (UIA) and B’nai Brith are often perceived as representing the Jewish perspective on Israel and antisemitism. They undoubtedly represent many Canadian Jews. But they do not represent them all.

There are also Jewish organizations and individuals — including Independent Jewish Voices Canada, the United Jewish People’s Order, the recently formed Jewish Faculty Network and others — who reject the notion that any single institution or political perspective can define what it means to speak as a Jew in Canada. They frequently offer perspectives that differ from those advanced by many established Jewish organizations about Israel; defend the importance of free expression on university campuses; and argue that criticism of the actions of the Israeli government should not automatically be equated with antisemitism.

One need not agree with every position these organizations take to recognize the importance of what they contribute. The hardest dissent is not necessarily directed against strangers. It is often directed toward one’s own community.

To challenge the dominant institutions of one’s own religious, cultural or political community is to risk damaged friendships, strained family relationships, professional consequences and public condemnation. It means placing principle above acceptance. That is a form of moral courage that deserves respect in any democracy.

History reminds us that the people who ultimately strengthen societies are often those willing to challenge the institutions they know best. Martin Luther King Jr. called America to live up to its own ideals. Václav Havel challenged the authoritarianism of his own country. Nelson Mandela opposed the political order into which he was born because he believed South Africa could become something better. The Hebrew prophets criticized the leaders of ancient Israel not because they rejected their people, but because they demanded justice from them.

Healthy societies depend on such people. Communities are strengthened — not weakened — by principled internal critics. This principle applies to all ethnically or religiously defined communities.

One important contribution of Jewish dissenters has been their insistence on maintaining distinctions — between criticism of the Israeli government’s policies and hostility toward Jews; between political disagreement and antisemitism; and between the actions of a state and the identity of a people.

Preserving those distinctions does not diminish the reality of antisemitism, which remains a serious problem. It protects the integrity of the term. If criticism of a government’s actions is routinely conflated with hatred of a people, both the fight against antisemitism and the protection of free expression are weakened.

Jewish dissent also reminds Canadians that no community should be reduced to a single political voice. We would never assume that one Indigenous organization speaks for all Indigenous peoples, or that one Muslim, Christian, Sikh or Ukrainian organization represents every member of those communities. Each contains a rich diversity of political convictions, moral perspectives and lived experiences. The Jewish community is no different.

That diversity matters. When governments, universities, museums and the media assume that one organization speaks for an entire community, they risk silencing other members of that community and presenting Canadians with an incomplete picture — not only of Jewish opinion, but of democratic life itself.

As a non-Jewish Canadian, I have neither the standing nor the desire to settle debates within the Jewish community. But I do have a stake in defending the conditions that allow those debates to flourish. Democracies require more than elections and majority rule. They require the freedom to disagree, especially when disagreement comes at personal cost.

Every democracy needs its consensus-builders. It also needs its consensus-breakers. They are often the people who remind us that loyalty and conformity are not the same thing.

The courage to dissent from one’s own community is among the rarest forms of public courage. Sometimes the deepest commitment to a community is shown not by echoing its loudest voices, but by having the moral courage to speak when silence would be easier.

Judith Dueck is a Winnipeg writer and former director of research, content and scholarship at the Canadian Museum for Human Rights. She writes in a personal capacity.