Confronting Antisemitism On Stage: Our Class and Prayer for the French Republic

Mar 1, 2024 by

By Sue Weston and Susan Rosenbluth, Two Sues on the Aisle

The adage about not letting “perfect” become the enemy of the pretty darn good was never so apparent as in two important plays performed in New York during a season as heavy with Holocaust- and antisemitism-themed works as any seen in recent years.

The conceit in Tadeusz Slobodzianek’s Our Class is that while antisemitism existed in Poland before the 1939 Soviet occupation, it was mostly a jokey sort of harassment, one that allowed a public school class, half Jewish, the other half Polish-Catholics, to tease each other while still sincerely believing there was no solidarity like that among classmates.

If anyone believes that, we have a bridge he might want to buy in lower Manhattan.

Nevertheless, it would be a mistake to allow that error to distract from the importance and power of Our Class, which enjoyed a limited run in January at the Brooklyn Academy of Music.

True Incident

Based on a true incident—the 1941 massacre of 1,600 Jews in the small Polish town of Jedwabne—the story makes a point of showing that, despite Polish claims to the contrary, the slaughter was not committed by the occupying Nazis but, rather, by the local community.

The play follows the fortunes of ten members of one class, whose love for one another is disrupted by the Soviet invasion, which was supported by many—but by no means all—Jews. The Poles, on the other hand, despised the communist atheists.

In 1941, the Nazis arrived, welcomed by the Russian-hating Poles as saviors—rescuers who have no problem with the locals giving vent to antisemitism expressed as rape, beatings, and torture. Eventually, the local Poles round up the entire Jewish population and lock them in barns that are burned to the ground.

Our Class

The takeaway from Our Class should be apparent to every Jew fortunate enough to see a production of this emotionally compelling work: At a time when the world has gone mad and any hope for justice in this life—whether at the hands of man or, more ephemerally. by something like Karma—is futile, the only Jewish answer is: Have children. Go where you can to have them; do what you must; sacrifice whatever is necessary, but produce children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. Give them Jewish names and teach them who they are and what is expected of them. Nothing else will work.

A Fallacy

In the superbly written Prayer for the French Republic, playwright Joshua Harmon would have the audience believe contemporary Jews in Paris are endangered as much—or more—from the political Right than they are from the ten percent of the country that is Muslim and their Islamist-obsessed Leftist allies. It’s the only fallacy in an otherwise spot-on accurate work about a French-Jewish family shaken by the pre-October 7th rise in European antisemitism.

Set when French voters are preparing to decide between Emmanuel Macron and the right-wing National Rally candidate, Marine Le Pen, the play seems oddly prophetic in its vision that the only rational 21st-century Jewish response is to pack up what you can, sell what you can’t grab your children, and make Aliyah.

Prayer for the French Republic

The family’s deliberations on how to proceed, given the increasing number of anti-Jewish attacks on their friends, fellow synagogue congregants, and even their son, Daniel (Aria Shahghasemi), who is beginning to flirt with greater observance, range from the insistence of the psychiatrist mother (Betsy Aidem) that kippoth should not be worn in public and all identifying signs of Judaism be kept private to the poignant plea of the father, Charles (Nael Nacer), that he is too frightened to remain in Paris.

Generational History

Never mind that the mother’s family has been in France for generations, making and selling pianos and that a non-Jewish landlord protected her parents from the Nazis and their French allies during the Holocaust. The truth is the only members of their family to return intact after the war were those who fled. Had there been a State of Israel ready to accept them, they would have gone there in a New York (well, a Paris) minute.

Mr. Harmon, whose comedic sense is often laugh-out-loud funny—the best lines are given to the family’s 28-year-old, manic-depressive daughter, Elodie (wonderfully played by Francis Benhamou)—seems to know that, even in the face of a laundry list of real, ripped-from-the-newspapers antisemitic incidents, including murders after home intrusions, at the hands of French Muslims, the audience would laugh most heartily at the expressed fear that Donald Trump may yet win the next U.S. Presidential election.

Charles (Nael Nacer)

Funny, Disturbing Dialogues

This certainly is the preoccupation of the family’s American cousin, Molly (Molly Ranson), who is spending her gap year studying in France before heading to college. Chatting with Daniel one evening, she describes herself as not Jewish but “of Jewish extraction.”

“It’s a disdainful way of referring to yourself,” he chides her, adjusting his kippah.

“It’s not,” she retorts. “It’s accurate.”

When she and Elodie discuss world politics, the French cousin, who sees all sides to the problem of whether or not the family should leave (in fact, she sees all sides to every issue and makes point after point, promising after each that it will be last), is offended by the American’s contempt for Israel’s position in its struggle with the Palestinians.

“I had no idea Israel’s occupation of Palestine was so problematic. Thank you so much for that,” says Elodie, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Given the current American administration’s at-best wobbly support for Israel in its existential war against Hamas, the many French-Jewish families who are now thriving in Israel may well be praying, along with other supporters of the Jewish state, that, come November, President Trump will soon be sitting in the Oval Office.

Both plays ended their limited engagements in New York City. We highly recommend seeing them when they return to the stage. With scripts this good – they will be back.

***

Two Sues on the Aisle bases its ratings on how many challahs (1-5) it pays to buy (rather than make) to see the play, show, film, book, or exhibit being reviewed. 

Our Class and Prayer for the French Republic both receive 5 challahs.

5 Challah Rating

Five Challah Rating

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