Post # 96
January 7, 2026
Claire Bodanis
Claire sees warnings for our corporate world and wider democracy in the horrific attacks on and daily experiences of our Jewish neighbours – but takes inspiration from imagining the role we could all play in 2026 to change that.
‘I feel like a mouse,’ my husband said to me the other day. Now I know that authors, even successful ones, are prone to self-doubt, but there are limits. David is 6’2”, a fast-talking, kickboxing American, for goodness’ sake. Mouse? Honestly. But then I realised I hadn’t been listening properly. David is also a Jew. And what he actually said was, ‘I feel like Maus’.
For those not familiar with it, Maus is a graphic novel – the first to win the Pulitzer Prize, I believe. In it, the author Art Spiegelman depicts himself interviewing his father, a Polish Jew and Holocaust survivor, about his life. It’s about as far from being a goodies vs baddies comic strip as you can get, with every character revealed in all his or her human frailty.
But what struck me most about the book was the depiction of the Jews as mice (hence the ‘Maus’ of the title) and the Nazi Germans as cats. What I took from it – and what I think was at the heart of David’s comment – was that it doesn’t matter who you are, or what you are, or how good you are, or how successful you are, or how eminent, how worthy, how decent, how clever, how learned – in the end, as a Jew, you’re just a mouse in a world run by cats. You are ‘other’ and always will be.
It was truly shattering to hear him say that – because it represented the shattering of his world view, the consensus of ‘Never again’. The youngest of a family of post-war children, David is from a generation of Jews who believed that the Holocaust had finally ended a 2,000-year history of pogroms and persecution. The Holocaust had demonstrated in the darkest way possible the consequences of antisemitic rhetoric when pursued to its logical conclusion; and, having been brought to light, could surely never happen again. His generation scoffed (politely) at their elders: the parents, grandparents and great-grandparents who, having witnessed persecution in all its variety, from the mildest forms of social exclusion to the ultimate horrors of torture, rape, murder and exile simply for being Jews, told their younger relatives ‘Never say “Never again”’.
And it was shattering to me too, because David has lived here, in my own country, for decades; a place historically welcoming to the Jews, not only during the war. Throughout the centuries, Britain has had a history of tolerance. Not perfect, certainly; but far better than many places in that, although sometimes shut out from parts of society, Jews have at least been able to live safely, peacefully and prosperously here. Indeed, we have to go back to the 12th and 13th centuries for a genuine pogrom against the Jews in this country, even though it took another few hundred years to properly welcome them back again.
And they’ve certainly repaid that tolerance hand over fist in terms of Jewish contributions to society. During the last two world wars, Jews were significantly over-represented in the armed forces by percentage of population, and since then have been similarly over-represented in public life too. In business, in the media, in science, in medicine, in law, in education. And where have Jews historically been under-represented by percentage of population in this country? In prisons, and elsewhere as disturbers of the peace. A textbook example of positive immigration and integration, one might say.
And yet. While we have not had a Bondi Beach incident so far in this country, only a few months ago, a man rammed a car into the gates of a synagogue in Manchester and attacked worshippers with a knife. Jews in London today – indeed all over the United Kingdom – are afraid to wear signs of their identity in public, lest they be harassed, or worse. Jewish students in just about every part of the UK report harassment on their campuses. Children in Jewish schools are being trained not just to respond to fire drills but to shooting drills as well. And while politicians say there is no place for this hatred, still it continues.
What is to be done? Since standing up for the Jews simply because it’s the right thing to do seems to carry little weight, then perhaps a warning that in the end we’re all mice might work better. The late Chief Rabbi, Lord Sacks, called antisemitism a sickness that arises from internal conflicts within a society. Indeed, the rise of antisemitism has been called by many ‘the canary in the coalmine’ for democracy. I am not a good enough world historian to know why it’s always the Jews who are targeted first – the idea that they are more ‘other’ than anyone else holds no logic for me. However, there are enough examples of the rise of antisemitism combining with a break-down in democracy, for me not to need to question the concept too hard.
This may all seem rather dark and dismal for the first blog of 2026. But I take heart, actually, from that very phrase ‘the canary in the coalmine’. The point of the story is that it’s not too late. The canary is a warning. Miners in the 19th century began taking canaries down the mine to test for noxious gases. If such gases were present, the canary would show signs of distress first, and often die (poor bird), being more sensitive than humans. And so the miners could take action to protect themselves.
You may feel there’s nothing you can do to fight antisemitism. After all, I’m sure none of you lovely blog readers would march in the streets shouting anti-Jewish abuse, even less ram your car into a synagogue and attack the people worshipping there. But what most of us are guilty of, at least some of the time, is standing by. ‘I’m too busy, it’s none of my business,’ we say to ourselves as we hurry past a fracas, or avert our eyes from an injustice, feeling relieved that it’s not happening to us.
The time for that is over. If you see someone on the street with a placard declaiming lies about the Jews and Palestine, go up and challenge them (if useful, you can find a summary of the history of the foundation of the state of Israel and attempts at a two-state solution – which I support – in my November 2023 blog). If you see someone jeering at a man on the bus and snatching the yarmulke off his head, step in and defend him. If you see a student slapped or spat at for being a Jew, remonstrate with their attacker. You don’t have to be a hero, but often all it takes is just one person stepping forward for others to follow. And if enough people step forward, surely Jew-baiting could again be made unacceptable in our society.
You may be wondering why I’ve chosen this subject, when I’m usually so careful to relate my more philosophical blogs to the corporate world we inhabit. Or indeed what right I have to urge you to this kind of action. I have no right, beyond the fact that our corporate world, in the way that we know it, relies on a healthy, functioning democracy, and so the defence of that democracy is everyone’s business.
Let’s not forget that the UK is one of the oldest democracies on Earth, and, whatever the doom-mongers say, I for one still have faith in the fundamental decency of British society, and that it’s something worth fighting for. It may be late, but it’s not yet too late. So let’s take heed of the canary, and start the fight right now, by standing up for our Jewish compatriots. Not only will it protect them, but it’ll protect the rest of us and our democracy too.
Thank you for reading.