This interview is based on Claire Burchett‘s thesis ‘Everyday victimhood on social media: The discussion of Jews and (anti-)antisemitism in the populist radical right online space in France, Germany, and Austria (2017-2023)’
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Antisemitism and the far/extreme/radical right have been an object of research for most of the 20th century for obvious reasons. Yet, your doctoral project comes at a time when old lenses no longer seem easily applicable as some far-right parties position itself as the defender of Jewish people. Could you explain how this mix of antisemitism and anti-antisemitism has become common place on the far right?
Since 1945, antisemitism has been stigmatised to some degree in most European countries. It became inextricably linked to Nazism, which was, unsurprisingly, associated with criminality and regime failure. Antisemitism survived on the far right, but these parties often remained marginal (with the exception of Austria). Far-right antisemitism began to slowly change in the 1980s and 1990s, with the change in generations, a growing awareness of the Holocaust in popular culture, and the criminalisation of Holocaust denial. Famously, French historian Valérie Igounet recounts that when then FN leader Jean-Marie Le Pen was asked his opinion on Holocaust denial in 1992, he responded that French legislation would immediately rebuke anyone who “expresses an opinion on this subject.”
With the onset of the 21st century, and notably 9/11, Islamophobia has become central to the far right, allowing an ostensible move away from biological racism and a continuation of an exclusionary discourse in a more “socially acceptable” way. The far right can also now claim to be anti-antisemitic and staunchly defend Jews against the “threat” of Islam, migration, left-wing parties, and the incumbent government, who are allegedly responsible for the continued existence of antisemitism. Far-right parties thus achieve their ideological goals, while presenting a more moderate image and claiming to distance themselves from historical fascism. This approach also boosts their self-presentation as parties able to govern and adhere to institutional norms: my thesis found an increase in mentions of Jews and antisemitism on the parties’ social media following an improved, novel election result (notably the AfD in 2017, the RN in 2022) but this was less the case following a more disappointing election result (the AfD in 2021, the FPÖ in 2019). A similar pattern was seen with Holocaust remembrance: the RN posted about it more after April 2022 and the FPÖ posted about it exclusively in the run-up to being, and while in, coalition government from 2017 to 2019.
However, this does not mean that antisemitism is now absent on the far right. The use of overt antisemitic stereotypes is rare, but Holocaust relativisation remains prevalent, despite the aforementioned attempts to engage in commemoration practices. Thus, Jews are acceptable victims as long as their victimhood can be shared by non-Jews. If there is too much focus on Jewish victimhood during the Holocaust, it risks shining a light on non-Jewish historical guilt and responsibility, which clashes with ideals of nativist pride. Specific Jewish figures who are considered to be causing non-Jewish victimhood, such as US-Hungarian financier George Soros, or Jewish community representatives such as the French CRIF, Ariel Muzicant in Austria, and Josef Schuster and Charlotte Knobloch of the Central Council for Jews in Germany, are also targeted. Interestingly, these individuals are often framed in elitist terms, to further distance the parties from accusations of racism and antisemitism.
Some scholars, such as Maximilian Selent and Matthias Kortmann for the German context, have argued that this co-existence of antisemitism and anti-antisemitism is done to appeal to two different electorates: the more moderate and the more radical. The parties themselves also constitute both more moderate and more radical politicians. While Jews do not always fit far-right politicians’ exclusionary mould, they also know that antisemitism is not popular. Overall, the French, German, and Austrian far right care less about Jews themselves and more about the weaponisation of antisemitism.
The concept of ‘victimhood’ is central to your thesis. Could you tell us how the far right exploits it today?
The far right exploits the notion of victimhood on several levels. This is not new, if we remember that Hitler came to power by emphasising German victimhood as a result of the Versailles Treaty, but it has become more varied and widespread. The psychology and international relations literature highlights how victimhood is associated with innocence, morality, and relief from shame and guilt. It is often considered as a mutually exclusive identity position, which fuels antagonism towards groups with competing victimhood claims.
The far right uses victimhood in three main ways, beyond simply framing their intended audience as victims. First, and this is perhaps the newest way, in a defensive sense. This has been explored by scholars such as Ruth Wodak and more recently Kurt Sengul. Far-right politicians will claim victimhood when accused of racism: they were misunderstood, they are being unfairly targeted by the mainstream media, they deserve to have free speech, etc. This serves to improve their self-presentation and consolidate their anti-elite position. Second, in a competitive sense. If victimhood claims are perceived as mutually exclusive, another group’s victimhood can feel like an affront to your own, or as taking away from your own. Far-right politicians, particularly those who are also populist, will claim to represent their constructed community, whether that be “native” citizens and/or the common, hard-working, virtuous “people”, often with attributes such as white and Christian. This community is presented as the true victims of the elite, of the cultural other, while other groups’ victimhood is discounted or ignored. This serves to solidify the far-right politician’s credentials as loyal to their community in a way that other politicians are not. Finally, victimhood can serve as a justification. If the “people” are ostensibly being poorly treated by an opponent group, this justifies criticism or attack of the latter without guilt.
More specifically, the role of victimhood has always been integral to antisemitism. The minimisation and removal of Jewish victimhood is central to so-called “secondary” antisemitism, which functions to diminish Holocaust guilt. My research found that this was also a reaction to contemporary Jewish victimhood, with social media users asking “why Jews?” and putting their own victimhood first, no matter the context. Similarly, it was also common to see the conflation of Jews and Israel among users, which entailed holding Jews everywhere responsible for the Israeli government’s repression of Palestinians.
Your case studies are France, Germany and Austria. Through this comparison, can we witness broad trends common to the far right on the issue of antisemitism or does the historical context in each of these countries still shape the scene?
Broadly yes, we can see a trend across all three countries that the far right claim to no longer be antisemitic and to defend Jewish interests. However, the extent to which they do so can be explained by historical context, but also, linked to this, by past electoral success and voting systems. In Austria, the FPÖ discussed Jews and antisemitism the least on its social media platforms, because of a long trend of blame-shifting Nazi guilt in Austrian society and erasure of Jewish victimhood, and therefore lesser stigmatisation. This context also contributed to a longer history of electoral success for the FPÖ, which therefore does not need to make as much of an effort to appear more moderate, by talking about Jews and antisemitism, to win votes. In France, there was a similarly protracted process of guilt acknowledgement, but antisemitism was still stigmatised as it was associated with the failed Vichy regime. Discussion of Jewish victimhood was more acceptable in the public sphere, it was just considered the responsibility of the German occupying forces and a small group of French collaborators. However, unlike in the Austrian case, the RN (then the FN) remained relatively marginal. This is where the different electoral systems can play a role: France’s two-round system is harmful to smaller parties. Therefore, the RN has had to make a more substantial effort to move away from antisemitism and prove itself as “anti-antisemitic.”
In Germany, because of the more highly stigmatised nature of antisemitism, the AfD discusses Jews and antisemitism the most of the three parties on its social media and has to work the hardest to distance itself from Nazism. Paradoxically, this co-exists with a track record of frequent antisemitic controversies in the last ten years, because the AfD’s nativism is the most threatened by Jewish victimhood. In a way, anti-antisemitism has always been a feature of the German far right, because the latter could never afford to be associated with Nazi ideas in the way that French or Austrian parties could. The kinds of defensive responses seen by the AfD are not new: the far-right German People’s Union (Deutsche Volksunion) newspaper used Jewish individuals as mouthpieces for “acceptable” Holocaust relativisation, just like the AfD glorifies far-right Israeli politicians and the Jews in the AfD (Juden in der AfD) group.
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Claire Burchett (she/her) is a final year PhD candidate in the department of European & International Studies at King’s College London and a member of the RPRN. Her doctoral research analyses the social media output of the Alternative for Germany, the Freedom Party of Austria, and the National Rally in France, to consider how (anti-)antisemitism and victimhood narratives are used as political tools in the strategic inclusion and exclusion of Jews from the body politic, and to further anti-elitism and Islamophobia.
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