On LeBron and that “Jewish money” Instagram story
Normally, a tweet from Darren Rovell wouldn’t be the kind of thing that pings my radar. I’d much prefer to let it pass on by. But on Sunday morning, a Rovell tweet was actually worth my attention. Rovell fired off a screenshot of a since-deleted LeBron James Instagram story containing the deeply disappointing text, “We been getting that Jewish money, Everything is Kosher.”
I want to stipulate a few things here:
· I am aware that LeBron was simply quoting lyrics from the 21 Savage song, “asmr.”
· I am additionally aware that 21 Savage has explained—and it’s seemingly evident within the full context of the song—that the quoted line is about his having previously made money outside the law and now doing so within the bounds of the law, and that he is not (intentionally) playing up the stereotype that Jews control all of the world’s money.
· I legitimately do not think LeBron was being hateful or anti-Semitic or meant any offense, on any level, to any Jews, anywhere, with this post. Unless and until he states otherwise, I’m working with the assumption that he was just talking about money by quoting a song’s lyrics, which is the kind of thing famous and non-famous people do all the time.
None of that is entirely exculpatory, though. Neither is the further assumption that James was unaware of the anti-Semitic stereotype he was giving a signal boost. No matter how much I might personally admire James as a basketball player, and, based on my extremely limited professional interactions with him (a handful of scrums during my time covering the NBA) as well as my less limited but still somewhat limited knowledge of his words and deeds over the years, my admiration of LeBron James, the father, leader, role model, and conscientious citizen — as a Jew myself, this hurt just a bit.
Now, I am by no means the most devoted, religious person in the world. Far from it. I fast on Yom Kippur and I don’t eat bread when I’m at my parents’ house during Passover but I also definitely eat bread during Passover once I get back to my apartment and I can’t even remember the last time I stepped inside a synagogue for something other than a friend’s wedding. (Much to the dismay of my mother, who is presumably reading this and simultaneously embarrassed that her son has just confessed to being a subpar Jew and thrilled that he’s finally writing about a basketball subject that she can understand better than he does.) But for many American Jews like myself, being Jewish is just as much about a feeling of community and common culture as it is about actually performing various religious rituals or keeping Kosher. And culturally, emotionally, or whatever you want to call it, I am definitely Jewish.
And so, it was perhaps not surprising that I was directly asked by friends to share my feelings on LeBron’s post on Sunday. And in discussing my feelings about this post with said friends, I noted the following: that I did not believe LeBron meant harm; that I also did not believe would apologize for his (in my opinion) innocent slip-up; but that he almost surely should; and that we as Jews should accept his apology if he did, largely because I believe he’s a good person who did not mean harm but rather was unaware of the harm such a comment could or would cause (which is still not great, but is far more forgivable).
His being unaware of the harm such a comment could or would cause is also completely understandable, if that’s in fact the case. I would venture to guess that while most people in America are very aware of the various stereotypes about Jews and money (Abraham Foxman, who in 2016 became the head of the Center for the Study of Anti-Semitism at the Museum of Jewish Heritage in New York City, has written that there are six: 1. All Jews are wealthy. 2. Jews are stingy and greedy. 3. Powerful Jews control the business world. 4. Judaism emphasizes profit and materialism. 5. Jews may cheat non-Jews. 6. Jews use their power to benefit “their own kind.”), not nearly as many people are aware of why those stereotypes may be harmful — or that they are in fact harmful at all.
I grew up in one of the more heavily-Jewish areas of New Jersey (data has indicated that approximately 10 percent of the population in Monmouth County is Jewish) but I would bet that even though my non-Jewish friends — who themselves are friends with plenty of Jews — are likely aware of the stereotypes, they would not necessarily be able to accurately articulate the reasons they are or could be harmful. LeBron grew up in Akron, Ohio, which is an area that has a far smaller Jewish population. He has also spent his entire adult life in the NBA, which has had, I believe, four Jewish players since LeBron entered the league in 2003. It’s likely that he has not had many Jewish peers during his life, and it’s thus not at all unexpected that he wouldn’t necessarily be perfectly attuned to the reasons a phrase like, “We been getting that Jewish money” could be construed as offensive or harmful.
The historian Derek Penslar, however, encapsulated exactly why that’s the case in his 2001 book on economic anti-Semitism, Shylock’s Children. Penslar described modern economic anti-Semitism as a “double helix of intersecting paradigms, the first associating the Jew with paupers and savages and the second conceiving of Jews as conspirators, leaders of a financial cabal seeking global domination.” If you’ve seen any of the things various right-wing politicians and loons have said about George Soros on the internet or on Fox News panels or on their own Twitter feeds, then surely, you’ll recognize this toxic brew.
Even acknowledging that LeBron himself likely did not mean harm and was not intending to channel those intersecting paradigms by quoting those 21 Savage lyrics, it’s also pretty easy to see why his doing so could end up being harmful anyway. The last two years have seen a stark increase in anti-Semitic hate crimes. Online, expressions of anti-Semitism have become all-too common. When a popular and increasingly political actor like LeBron casually tosses that stereotype into the world, seemingly without care, it only encourages bigots to continue dumping their hatred into the world or to pivot from words into action. And given the recent rise in anti-Semitic hatred and violence in this country and abroad (none of which is LeBron’s fault or responsibility, but it is in this environment that he posted this Instagram story), it’s an especially dangerous time to be giving those people any more reason to think that they are not alone and that their beliefs are somehow acceptable.
While certainly there are groups of people that are discriminated against and stereotyped more often than Jews (as a black man, LeBron himself is part of one of those groups; and given the realities of this country, it is extraordinarily likely that LeBron has been discriminated against and stereotyped far more often than I or many other Jews have), there is still a lot of hatred for us out there, and it is on the rise, and neither of those facts is necessarily all that widely acknowledged. And a lot of that rising, somewhat unacknowledged hatred is based on the idea that Jews secretly have control of the world’s money and power and deviously scheme to keep it all for ourselves.
Having someone as powerful and influential as LeBron show awareness of that fact and remorse for having even unintentionally engaged in that stereotyping would be a step in the right direction — a nod to the Jewish community that we are seen and that stereotyping or discriminating against us is not OK, either. An apology or even just a statement acknowledging the existence of these stereotypes and their wrongness would be such a bigger deal than the actual stereotype itself. LeBron carries that kind of influence.
Maybe LeBron will apologize. Maybe by the time you’re reading this, he already has. (Update: Yes, he has.) Hopefully, it’s a sincere one, and not a carefully-wrought statement run through a phalanx of public relations specialists and various agents. All too often, public figures dance away from controversy by engaging in performative contrition, or stall until the uproar dies down, especially when cretins and hypocrites are launching a bad faith outrage campaign designed to provide cover for their own hateful beliefs. Rote productions of apology theater are endemic to the sports world; knowing what’s in a public figure’s heart is a luxury we aren’t — and probably shouldn’t — be privy to.
Even if LeBron doesn’t apologize, I’m not going to suddenly stop being a fan of his as a player or person. (Again, I don’t believe he actually meant any offense here, or that he was even necessarily aware that any could or would be caused by his quoting the specific lyrics he did.) And if he does apologize, I won’t suddenly think more of him, either. But I would appreciate it, and I’d appreciate him. And I think there are a lot of other people who feel the same way.
