Interview with Dalia Sarig, Jewish Palestine solidarity activist
I am particularly intrigued by your family history, especially the escape from
Nazi Vienna and the subsequent rebuilding of your life in Palestine. Could you
tell me more about these experiences and how they shaped your identity?
tell me more about these experiences and how they shaped your identity?
Remarkably still alive today, my grandmother was born in Vienna in 1929, the eldest
of four siblings in a Jewish family. In 1938, my great-grandfather was arrested for the
sole crime of being Jewish and subjected to public humiliation. He was released
thanks to the intervention of a Nazi, likely bribed with a hefty sum by my greatgrandmother
Rosa.
Shortly after, the family fled Vienna for Serbia, where Rosa quickly sensed the
growing danger of Nazism and decided to emigrate to Palestine. Against her family’s
opposition, she managed to obtain expensive permits and, during the journey, bribed
officials with the jewelry she had brought with her. This episode deeply marked her,
leading her to wear precious ornaments during holidays for the rest of her life.
In Palestine, they settled in the Haifa region, where they unsuccessfully attempted
farming before opening a grocery store. Life was hard: food shortages, a hostile
climate, and depression made their stay difficult for Rosa, who decided to return to
Vienna with her youngest children in 1947. To circumvent British restrictions, the
family took an indirect journey through Egypt. On the ferry, Rosa listened to the
approval of the United Nations Partition Plan, an event she celebrated
enthusiastically.
Meanwhile, my grandmother remained in Haifa, where she married and gave birth to
my mother in 1948. Her husband participated in the 1948 war, stationed in Galilee,
one of the areas involved in ethnic cleansing operations. I was never able to talk to
him about those events, as he divorced my grandmother shortly after my birth.
Dissatisfied with their living conditions, my grandmother and her family decided to
return to Vienna in the late 1950s.
To this day, my grandmother, mother, and uncle hold fundamentally racist Zionist
views, with prejudices against Palestinians, Arabs, Black people, Sinti, Roma, and
even Sephardic Jews, whom they refer to with derogatory terms. My family has
always emphasized the importance of developing a strong Jewish identity, which has
had a profound impact on my upbringing.
Growing up in an environment where the Holocaust and persecution were central, I
vowed to myself never to be part of a silent majority. The memory of that dark period
has deeply shaped my commitment to not remain idle in the face of injustice.
The perception of the Palestinian issue in Austria is strongly influenced by a
complex interplay of historical, political, and social factors. At the institutional
level, support for Israel is solid and bipartisan. How is the Palestinian issue
perceived in the country, both at the institutional level and in public opinion?
Considering Austria’s historical past and current international tensions, what
factors influence public perception and government policies towards this conflict?
Both institutionally and in public opinion, Austria overwhelmingly supports Israel.
While many recognize that what is happening in Gaza is wrong and disproportionate,
they often prefer to remain silent. This silence is fueled by the strongly pro-Israel
media and a widespread fear of being labeled anti-Semitic if they side with Palestine.
Many Austrians feel that their historical responsibility for the Holocaust prevents
them from criticizing Jews. However, this ‘protection’ only extends to Zionist Jews.
Anti-Zionist Jews, like myself, often face harsh criticism, especially from politicians
and journalists.
Furthermore, there is significant racism against Muslims in Austria, which I believe
is the real reason behind the lack of solidarity with Palestine. Declarations against
anti-Semitism are often used to justify anti-Muslim racism and anti-Arab sentiment.
Given the historical weight of the Holocaust on the Austrian conscience, how
does this legacy influence the positions of the local Jewish community regarding
the Israeli-Palestinian conflict?
The Jewish community in Austria is predominantly Zionist. It strongly supports Israel
and defends its right to self-defense. It also maintains close ties with the Israeli
embassy and invests significant efforts in lobbying to influence public opinion in favor
of Israel. There is also a small but determined anti-Zionist Jewish community,
organized under the group Judeobolschewiener*Innen (JBW), which is rooted in the
Bundist tradition. Despite this, many of its members hesitate to expose themselves
publicly for fear of reprisals, such as job loss or academic opportunities. For example,
I am currently working on a Vienna Jewish Anti-Zionist Declaration, but so far only
12 people have agreed to sign it. The fear of public exposure is a strong deterrent.
Given the strong historical and identity-based connection between Jews and
Israel, how do you reconcile your position as a Jewish woman with your
commitment to Palestinian rights? What have been the personal consequences of
this choice?
I faced severe criticism and ostracism from my family and the Jewish community due
to my pro-Palestinian activism. My decision to co-found ‘Not In Our Name – Vienna’
and disrupt a parliamentary event during the commemoration of the Universal
Declaration of Human Rights, shortly after Austria voted against a UN resolution for
a ceasefire in the Gaza Strip, marked a deep break with my loved ones. My
grandmother excluded me from her 95th birthday celebration, my mother gave me an
ultimatum, and my father literally declared me ‘dead’ to the Jewish community.
Despite the pain, I have found new friends who share the values that led me to
renounce my Israeli citizenship as a symbolic gesture against Zionism in 2015,
knowing the consequences. I remain firmly committed to the struggle for a free
Palestine and have no time for those who accuse me of betrayal. I prefer to take
action, speaking at demonstrations and fighting against repression, which extends
beyond criticism to police actions. For example, the slogan ‘From the river to the sea,
Palestine will be free’ is now considered a prima facie indication of support for
terrorism, and I have been summoned three times by the state police to explain my
position. Even variations like ‘From the river to the sea, all people will be free’ are
now used as a pretext to break up demonstrations.
Living in Vienna, a city marked by the scars of the Holocaust, how does it
influence your Jewish identity? How does the past weigh on your present and
future perspectives?
Vienna is characterized by a peculiar form of anti-Semitism: philo-Semitism. I
consider this a form of racism because it exoticizes Jews, treating them as
fundamentally ‘different’ from other human beings. Even though it may seem positive,
it perpetuates the idea of a fundamental separation.
I prefer the term “racism against Jews” over “anti-Semitism” for two reasons. First,
there’s no need for a special term to describe this phenomenon. Placing it within the
broader context of racism facilitates its analysis and opposition. Considering it in
isolation hinders an effective approach. The same applies to the Holocaust:
comparing it to other genocides helps us understand its similarities and differences,
reinforcing the universal message of “never again” for all.
Second, the term “anti-Semitism” is problematic because it also includes Semiticspeaking
peoples, such as Arabs. This creates confusion and obscures the true
meaning of the term.
Being Jewish in Vienna means confronting these contradictions. My activism aims to
oppose all forms of racism and oppression, including those committed in the name of
Zionism. To honor the lessons of the Holocaust, we must ensure that “never again”
truly applies to everyone.
Personally, I have experienced this confusion between Judaism and Zionism firsthand.
A former president of the Austrian parliament labeled me a “self-hating Jew,” a
deeply anti-Semitic statement. It implies that all Jews must support Zionism, ignoring
the diversity of Jewish identities and opinions. This attitude undermines the genuine
fight against racism and hinders efforts to combat all forms of discrimination.
Confusing anti-Semitism with criticism of Israel and equating Jewish identity with
Zionism is extremely dangerous. This confusion not only fuels anti-Semitism,
perpetuating the harmful stereotype that all Jews unconditionally support Israel’s
policies, but also trivializes true anti-Semitism, stripping it of its meaning. It is crucial
to distinguish between legitimate criticism and anti-Semitic hatred.
How can we distinguish between legitimate criticism of Israel and genuine anti-
Semitism?
In my opinion, all criticism of Israel is legitimate, as long as it focuses on its policies
and actions, without conflating Zionism with Jewish identity. It is when Zionists are
equated with Jews that anti-Semitism creeps in. Unfortunately, this confusion is
actively promoted by Israel itself, which seeks to equate criticism of the state with
attacks on the Jewish people, in order to silence dissent. Another often overlooked
aspect of the debate is the importance of comparison. Comparing Israel’s treatment of
Palestinians to the Nazis’ treatment of Jews is often dismissed as anti-Semitic or as a
relativization of the Holocaust, but I believe it is essential. Both are forms of systemic
racism, and analyzing the roots and mechanisms of racism in different contexts can
help us combat it more effectively.
Do you think the history of the Holocaust can be used to promote justice and
equality, rather than as a tool to silence criticism?
The Holocaust shows us the tragic consequences of unchecked racism. The message
of ‘never again’ is not just a warning about the past, but a guiding star for our actions
in the present and future, regardless of the context. Honoring the memory of the
victims means transforming their suffering into a catalyst for a more just and
equitable world. The lessons of the Holocaust remind us that indifference, hatred, and
dehumanization are still present in the world today, in different forms. It is our duty to
recognize and actively combat them. Instead of instrumentalizing the memory of the
Holocaust to stifle criticism, we should channel its lessons to promote justice and
equality in all their forms. Only then can we truly keep the promise of ‘never again’.
The pursuit of peace is an ethical imperative that transcends national and
religious boundaries. The Israeli-Palestinian conflict, with its complexity,
represents one of the greatest challenges to building a more just and peaceful
world. What is your vision for peace for Israel and Palestine, and how do you
respond to those who equate the Palestinian cause with terrorism?
I believe in a one-state solution, where all people living between the river and the sea
enjoy equal rights and dignity, including the right of return for all Palestinian
refugees and their descendants. Unfortunately, many Israeli Jews oppose this solution
because it would require them to relinquish their privileges and sense of superiority.
However, this approach would guarantee equality and justice for all, but it requires
external pressure similar to what ended apartheid in South Africa. For this reason, I
support the Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions (BDS) movement as a non-violent
means to incentivize Israel to respect international law. Dialogue is possible but must
occur in a context of equality and mutual respect. During the Oslo Accords, I lived in
Palestine and there was an atmosphere of hope and reconciliation, but the concrete
results were disappointing for Palestinians, and today the two-state solution is no
longer viable due to Israeli settlements. The settlements are too entrenched,
politically powerful and populous for any Israeli government to dismantle. Only by
dismantling systemic oppression and guaranteeing equal rights for all can a genuine
foundation for peace be created. Regarding accusations of terrorism, historically,
indigenous liberation movements have often been labeled as terrorist. It is crucial to
recognize that the Palestinian struggle against occupation is a legitimate cause, like
any indigenous people’s struggle against colonization. Although Hamas has
committed deplorable acts of terrorism, resistance to occupation, when directed
against military targets, is recognized by international law. Western hypocrisy is
evident in its support for other Islamist groups in different contexts, highlighting the
instrumental use of the term “terrorism.” While labeling Hamas as a fundamentalist
Islamist terrorist organization, they simultaneously support figures like Abu
Mohammad al-Jolani in Syria, a former Islamist leader with ties to groups previously
accused of terrorism. To move towards a just and lasting peace, it is necessary to
address the root causes of the conflict—occupation, displacement, and systemic
inequality—and recognize the legitimate rights of the Palestinian people.
Both Jewish and Palestinian identities have been shaped by decades of history,
persecution, and aspirations. This conflict has generated conflicting narratives
and deep polarizations, often reinforced by prejudices and stereotypes. Within
this complexity, there are numerous misunderstandings that obscure the deeper
dynamics of this issue. What, in your opinion, is the greatest misunderstanding
that prevents constructive dialogue and a peaceful solution?
And what do you hope readers will understand better after reading your story and
reflections? The biggest misunderstanding about the Palestinian issue is the
perception that the conflict is between two equal parties. It is not. Israel is the
oppressor, holding significant power, resources, and Western support, while
Palestinians are the oppressed, fighting for their freedom with very limited means.
This conflict is not overly complicated: at its core, it is a colonial issue. Zionism, in its
attempt to establish a Jewish state in Palestine, dispossessed an indigenous
population. Moreover, Western discourse often reflects racism and deep-rooted
prejudices against Palestinians, obscuring reality and perpetuating stereotypes. As
for Jewish identity, the primary misunderstanding is confusing Judaism as a religion
and culture with a national or ethnic identity. This reinforces the idea that Zionism
and Judaism are inseparable, promoting a narrative that justifies Israeli oppression
and conflates criticism of Zionism with anti-Semitism. I hope readers understand that
there is an anti-Zionist Jewish voice, which is essential for a more honest discourse
and to dismantle these prejudices. Furthermore, it is crucial to understand that the
genocide in Gaza must be stopped before it spreads further, likely to the West Bank.
The liberation of Palestine is not just about the struggle of one people, but symbolizes
resistance against global systemic injustices. By defending the rights of Palestinians,
we are defending a more just, equitable, and peaceful world—a world where Israelis
and Palestinians can coexist with dignity, equality, and peace. None of us are free
until Palestine is free.
Vienna, a city pulsating with life and death, still echoes with the history of Dalia’s
family, an intertwining of joys and sorrows. Her words, like the chimes of a
tormented past, remind us that the wounds of history do not heal easily. Yet, in her
testimony, there vibrates the tenacious strength of a hope that illuminates a possible
future, where the shadows of the past will finally be dispelled, leaving room for the
inextinguishable flame of the freedom of a people who fight fearlessly for their rights.
This interview was published here:
https://it.insideover.com/