Shadowy donors — or generous? (Jewish Chronicle)

One of the curiosities of the Abrahams affair was the suggestion that it all had to do, somehow, with Jewish power, through (naturally) the less obviously Protocol-ish medium of support for Israel. There was the Telegraph front page showing Mr Abrahams in intriguing proximity to the Israeli ambassador while the story wondered where his money had come from. And there was my old colleague from my Independent days, Yasmin Alibhai-Brown, constructing a shadowy edifice from the convergence of Abrahams, Labour Friends of Israel and Gordon Brown’s chief fundraiser, Jon Mendelsohn.

Ms A-B anticipated that her bravery in raising unpalatable truths would lead to her being traduced by the obvious people, and I would certainly not want to disappoint her. Especially since my mind turned not on the differences between Mr Abrahams and Yasmin, but their rather obvious similarities. Suppose that the idea of the Jewish/Zionist power play was in fact a cover — albeit unconscious — for an even more uncomfortable reality?

It seems to me to be rather obvious — though I don’t know the man — that Mr Abrahams is someone who uses his money and contacts as others might use platform shoes, as a means of elevation in the eyes of a dangerously indifferent world. And why not? Isn’t that also one reason why I write and robins sing?

Now, much as I esteem Yasmin, she has some traits which are fabulously appropriate. A child immigrant from a very bright family, she is famously pushy (first accepting an MBE and then, very publicly, returning it), strangely envious (complaining about how often other people appear on radio and television whilst never being off them herself), and as concerned as Mr Abrahams at any sign that she might be disadvantaged by reason of her background. In other words, when she sees pushy Jews, it is pushy Yasmin she really fears.

Even so (and I fear now that my edgy friendship with Yasmin may be at an end), we must still account for the pushy Jews, whose invasion of golf clubs and other parts of traditional society is probably still what exercises the folk at the Telegraph.

How does it come about that Lord Levy was succeeded by Mr Mendelsohn, that Sir Ronald Cohen has been such a big supporter of Gordon Brown’s, and that British political parties would go to the wall if it weren’t for the fundraising skills of members of the community?

Well, in much the same way as politics would be materially poorer if it wasn’t for the contributions of even newer immigrants, those from Indian and South Asian backgrounds — contributions partly made for much the same reasons, arising initially out of what The Economist described last week as the “mixed feelings of marginality and ambition” inherent in the immigrant experience.

If you were relatively new to a country, believing that, as the Economist also put it, there was in British society “an elusive top table” which effectively governed admittance to the ruling elite, then one obvious route to it would be the deployment of wealth. If you lacked the correct name or religion or genetic history to make it to the top, well, at least wealth has always been an incontrovertible measure of achievement.

So of course, some donors want to be seen as big men and women, if not necessarily by the public, then certainly by those whose good opinion they value. But there is more to it than that, I have come to realise. Raising and giving money, sharing wealth in some organised way, is a major part of how the British Jewish community has developed. I imagine much of this arises from the perceived need to help fellow Jews when they were in trouble. My own uncle, though never rich, worked as a volunteer for charities dealing with the Jewish old folk, until he dropped down dead in his mid-80s.

Now, Jews are not necessarily any better or worse than anyone else, but it is naïve not to see this emphasis on charity and giving as an important element in the specifically British Jewish experience. But the existence of this trait begs another, largely unasked question.

If the Jewish presence in charitable work and fundraising is disproportionately large, then someone else’s contribution must — logically — be disproportionately small. If Jews give a lot, isn’t this a way of saying that some people give very little?

And indeed, this is my experience. Living in a part of London which has, fairly recently, been taken over by money men and bankers, who hail from places as diverse as Australia, Germany and the United States, as well as Britain, what has begun to impress itself upon me is their resolute lack of charitable impulse. Their wealth is devoted to separating them and their families from the rest of the world, not to enhancing it. They don’t seem to attend local churches or community events, always flying out at every holiday to a second or third home, and they certainly wouldn’t be caught dead donating to political parties.

So here’s my reworking of the big question: not, why are Jews always involved in donating money, but rather, why are gentiles so mean?

Comments

[dsquared]

I think this is a bit under-researched. Although Lord Levy is Jewish, if you look at the list of loans-for-lordships donors http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk_politics/4826704.stm , they represent a reasonable cross-section of British society.

The biggest individual donors to the Labour Party have been Lord Sainsbury, Lord Hamlyn and Lord Drayton (and at least in the cases of Sainsbury and Drayton, there were rumours of quid pro quo at the time). Similarly, some of the biggest donation scandals have been those associated with Bernie Ecclestone and Lakshmi Mittal. I don't think there's much evidence of a disproportionate share of any ethnic group in either Labour Party donations or sleaze.

[Carl Gardner]

I wonder if it's something to do with the collective and communal aspect of giving. I remember when I used to work as a fundraiser years ago that Northern Ireland was regularly the most charitable part of the UK - in spite of being one of the poorest if not the poorest part. In spite, too, of the divisions in that society. Perhaps it was because people there felt rooted in a community and a sense of belonging to it - with all the good and bad baggage feelings like that can bring.

Nowadays it's noticeable how many successful fundraising initiatives depend on a sense of community somehow, like the gay community's fundraising and campaigns about HIV, and woman-focused campaigns like the Moonwalk for breast cancer research.

So is the explanation that generally speaking, traditional ties have broken down and most of us don't feel the solidarity that's felt in Northern Ireland or within the Jewish community?

[Bo Stenberg]

Dave--You may be right (or wrong), but it hardly matters. What matters is your second home, passports in order for the entire clan and the willingness to make the big getaway in time. Odd, really, how the refuges of yesteryear turn out to be the hotbeds of judenfrei this time around. Possible column for another day....