Tag: British

Sometimes, discrimination is undeniable. Sometimes it’s so loud, so overt and perpetrated in such plain sight that you can only hope anyone witnessing it musters the courage to speak up. Much of the time, though, it is a curiously slippery thing. It happens in the shadows, weeding its way into small exchanges and unspoken decisions so that it’s impossible to ever pin down an anecdote or build a case. Harder still when to call it out could mean risking professional relationships – whole careers, even.

Such is the experience of so many Jewish people in British publishing today. In interviews with The Telegraph, authors, agents, scouts and publishers spoke of the growing sense of discomfort and ostracisation they have experienced in their industry since the October 7 attacks. Many say a quiet but pervasive anti-Semitism – a sense of “Jews don’t count”, as one author put it – has begun to creep in.

For some, it was there even before the war; the past 14 months have merely shone a light on a problem that was already lurking. Others say this period has marked a sea change in their industry, as authors with Jewish-centric stories have struggled to sell their work, agents have battled to convince cautious publishers to take on books which, not so long ago, they would have scooped up, and editors seem to find reasons not to take on titles that could cause conflict at an acquisition meeting.

It all adds up to what many describe as a culture of “soft boycotting” which has taken hold, whereby Jewish stories are left untold, Jewish agents are quietly dropped, and Jewish authors find themselves persona non grata amongst their peers. Underpinning it all is a growing sense of isolation. Or, as one literary agent put it, “a feeling [that you are] not part of a community that you’ve been part of for many years”.

“The general feeling of this year is of feeling outnumbered, isolated … this culture of soft boycotting is really hard to prove and makes you sound paranoid,” says another agent. “I’ve sent out two proposals by Jewish authors and I’m just not able to sell them. Neither have written books about the conflict.”

Occasionally, she has been able to sell books by Jewish authors “where their Jewishness is not present or out there”. But if the book has an overtly Jewish theme? “It definitely feels like it’s much harder.”

Books about the Holocaust tend to be the exception. “It’s very bizarre that Holocaust stories are still alright,” says Lucy Abrahams, a British literary scout who has been living in Tel Aviv for seven years (though her business is still based in the UK) and works with publishers and agents all over the world. “Anything about living Jews that still need protection or representation in any way, is just too complicated and prickly and difficult.” She wonders whether those stories are more palatable “because it’s the right rather than the left that that hatred came from”.

Many feel this kind of passive boycott is often impossible to call out. People don’t just come out and say they won’t take on a Jewish or Israeli author, they make a careful excuse. One author (who also works in publishing, as an editor) has been trying to pitch a novel she wrote which centres around Jewish working class Londoners. It isn’t about the conflict in the Middle East – it’s a British story. When she first sent it out soon after the pandemic, the response was “very positive” though no one picked it up. When she tried to find out why, the responses tended to be a version of: “I wouldn’t know how to market it”.

“It felt like there was a cautiousness around it being potentially niche, even though I don’t think it particularly was,” she says. “It felt like there wasn’t a willingness to take it on.”

She is realistic about the fact that not every book can make it through to acquisitions, but had a sense that one of the reasons it wasn’t getting past publishers was that “it was too Jewish”. “By the time it went out the second time I was like this is just never going to happen.”

She sent it out again after October 7 but had little hope that in the wake of the attacks a Jewish centric book would be picked up. “Maybe if we’d have sent it in November then it might have been slightly different, but by the time we sent it out it was the new year and I just had absolutely no faith. No one is going to touch it. It’s not about Israel but it touches on the issues very lightly and in a very nuanced way, which I think is another thing people are not open to – nuance.”

The experience has left her feeling thoroughly deflated. “It’s just a kind of dismissal. A ‘Jews don’t count’ vibe more than anti-Semitism.”

For Neil Blair, a literary agent who represents JK Rowling and Sir Chris Hoy, the industry was already becoming a difficult place for Jewish and Israeli writers prior to October 7. But since then, things have only deteriorated. “Books that were perceived as being pro-Israel were already having a problem prior to October 7”, says Blair, “but October 7 has just accelerated it and made it much worse.”

In the wake of the attacks, Blair says it seemed to become more legitimate to boycott (either quietly or overtly) Jewish writers, leaving publishing houses in a bind. “What’s changed since October 7 is it’s just become wider and people have felt there is no restriction on their behaviour and their activism by cancelling, boycotting, not approving these types of books. They almost feel like it’s their duty to do so. They feel they’re fulfilling some sort of worthy cause.”

He’s keen to stress it “isn’t coming from the top”, adding: “We’re lucky that the CEOs of the main publishers in our country are good people. They’re concerned about this.”

Often, says one agent, it can be “very difficult to prove”. “People will give a million reasons for not taking a book to acquisitions.” She knows of authors who have been quietly “dropped by their agents since October 7”. “And again, it’s really difficult to say that’s the reason, maybe they just were parting ways. But you hear it from enough people and you can start to build a picture.”

One agent was left similarly baffled when a client ditched her, she suspects because she is Jewish. “I have lost an author – I think that’s why, but it was cleverly done so that I can’t really point to that. I know in my heart of hearts that’s why.”

Many in the industry speak of the “uncomfortable conversations” they have found themselves having in the past 14 months. “It affects your relationships and it’s a relationship business that we’re in,” says one agent. “I had one author telling me that there’s a social group she’s been part of but they’re not interested now in her joining them. I’ve heard other authors find it difficult to get endorsements for their books.”

If they speak up or declare any political stance publicly, writers fear what one bestselling author calls “cancellation by stealth”. This particular author has had “semi-public arguments” with other authors “about whether their anti-Zionist stance was actually anti-Semitic”. Speaking out left her feeling ostracised. “In a small group of people, I felt backed into a corner because of my ethnicity.” Suddenly, she says, “people who were friends have distanced themselves from me”.

A writer of commercial fiction, she wishes senior figures in the industry would step in. “I just think someone at the top needs to be leading on this at big publishing houses and at the Society of Authors, to call out anti-Semitism.”

She describes it as “a chilling atmosphere for Jews, unless you are a Jew who is extremely pro-Palestinian”. In fact, it’s so “toxic” she is considering leaving the industry altogether. “I’m ready to hang up my hat on any given day because it’s so bad.”

Part of the problem, she says, is that her peers are “taking all their news from the BBC and the Guardian”.

Abrahams agrees. “My frustration and fury the whole way through this war has been aimed at the BBC, the Guardian and New York Times for the way that they present this war. Publishing is in my opinion mostly Guardian readers and New York Times readers. And I just can see how it’s influenced them so clearly. And they don’t know anything about the history of this conflict. They don’t know enough about the particulars of the politics of this war.”

For Justine Solomons, who owns Byte The Book (an organisation that connects authors from all over the world and helps them to find an agent, a publisher or to self-publish) it’s the industry’s ‘small c’ conservatism that is at the root of much of this. “The publishing industry is left leaning and there is quite a lot of wokeism, but also it’s conservative with a ‘small c’ in that they want to publish safer books, and I think books with a strong Jewish theme aren’t considered safe. Not that there wouldn’t be readers for it, but they’re a little bit allergic to it.”

One of her authors, whose background is “nothing at all to do with Israel” was told her book was “a bit too Jewish to get published”.

Israeli authors are likely to find it even harder. “Not only are people not wanting to be published in Israel but British publishers are not demonstrating an appetite for Israeli authors,” says one agent. “A few months ago, an Israeli book came to me which I wasn’t able to sell the rights to in Britain. Two years ago it would have been a very different picture.”

In Israel, publishing houses that have long held good relationships with their counterparts around the world – regularly buying the rights to British books and bringing them to an Israeli readership – are facing public boycotts by prominent writers. “I have received a rejection of interest from an agent whose email states that her author will not consent to be published in Israel ‘while the genocide is going on’,” says Abrahams. “I have about five emails like this rejecting Israeli clients’ interest or offers this year. How to respond to an email that uses that word, as the granddaughter of a Holocaust survivor?”

In the run up to Frankfurt book fair in October, Abrahams had a series of awkward meetings with British agents who “would pitch with slight embarrassment or would stop half way through while pitching anything on any Jewish theme and say I know I’m going to struggle to sell this, it’s probably not the time, I think this is going to be difficult”.

“I just started to worry that Jewish and Israeli stories are going to completely disappear for the next few years, partly because of the publishing industry’s reluctance to grapple with anything controversial at the moment in this area rather than necessarily because there isn’t any public interest in it. Because I think there is.”

Editors in British publishing houses “are nervous about bringing books on a Jewish or Israeli theme at an acquisitions meeting”, she says. “They are aware that there is a significant amount of resistance. Perhaps in the sales team, perhaps marketing, perhaps their fellow editors. It’s just a lot harder to get these books through acquisitions at the moment. I think in order to have an easier life, plenty of editors who perhaps aren’t personally invested may decide not to pursue those books.”

Ornit Cohen-Barak is an Israeli publisher who published Sally Rooney’s first two books. She was expecting to publish her third – Beautiful World, Where Are You – too until Rooney declared in 2021 that she wouldn’t be published in Israel. The Irish writer was also among more than one thousand industry figures worldwide who called for a boycott of Israeli cultural institutions in October this year, signing a letter that literary figures including Lee Child and Howard Jacobson declared “illiberal and dangerous”.

Cohen-Barak “would have liked to have continued” with Rooney’s books “and to build her as an author”. In 2021, when it became clear that wasn’t going to happen, she wrote an open letter to Rooney, pointing out that her boycott would “contribute to the exclusion of those you aim to defend”. It said: “The elites, who speak and read English, will have access to your writings, but those who are like Felix, the character in your new book, will never be able to see their likeness portrayed in a different culture. By refusing to allow the book to be published in Israel, you fail to reach out to the Israeli Felix.”

Literature is “about complexity”, she says, speaking over the phone from Tel Aviv. “[It’s] about going into depth and not demonstrating a very binary world.” Ironically, Cohen-Barak feels that boycotts only serve to isolate the people who are likely on the same side. “[It] affects mostly the liberal people in Israel and the people who fight against the policy of this government, the people who are out in the streets demonstrating.”

Since October 7, she has found it harder and harder to do business internationally. Now, she asks agents to be sure their author will sell to an Israeli publisher before they pitch. She has noticed a growing “silent boycott”. “People wouldn’t tell you to your face but they would be slower answering, although now they are sometimes starting to be more explicit.”

In Britain, industry events are suffering. The funding for a string of literary festivals was decimated after they cut ties with Scottish investment firm Baillie Gifford, following pressure from climate and pro-Palestine activists. “They have destroyed the funding for the festival circuit,” says Abrahams, who says such events are “massively important” for authors wanting to get their name and their work out there.

Meanwhile, for many, book fairs have become imbued with tension. This year, for the first time, Michael Leventhal (who runs Green Bean Books, an independent Jewish children’s publisher) felt the need to request security at his stall at the Bologna book fair. Bologna is one of the three biggest book fairs in the world, predominantly populated by children’s publishers and agents. It’s usually a “wonderful, friendly fair”. This year, it was “tainted”, Leventhal says, “by the fact that it was felt it was sensible to have a team of plain clothes security”. Leventhal’s father is Lionel Leventhal, who founded the London Book Fair in 1977. He has been around publishing all his life and attended more than 150 book fairs in his 25 year career. “This is the first time that I’ve ever felt the need to request any security at any publishing event,” he says.

Even simple gatherings meant to bring Jewish people in publishing together now have to be planned as discreetly as possible. “We hosted a reception for Jewish illustrators, authors, editors on one of the nights of the fair and everyone breathed a mighty sigh of relief at the end that it had passed without incident,” says Leventhal. “We were extremely careful. We didn’t want word about the gathering to spread before the event. It wasn’t posted on any open forums because of security concerns.”

Solomons is part of a group of Jewish people in publishing which sprung up in the aftermath of October 7. Last week, the Board of Deputies reported more than 100 Jewish staff networks have been formed since the attacks across a variety of industries. In publishing, the gatherings (convened by Stephanie Thwaites, a literary agent and head of the books department at Curtis Brown) were designed to give people a sense of solidarity in an industry that was feeling increasingly hostile. Solomons says that while other kinds of groups are able to be open about their meetings, the Jewish Publishing Circle is always cautious when planning a get together. “When we have these meetings, you only find out where they are quite close to the time because people feel worried about safety,” she says.

Even the fact of that has an impact. “It just feels a bit familiar and ghettoising.”

Before a recent gathering, Thwaites says she felt the need to alert the Community Security Trust (a charity that provides security for the Jewish community in Britain). “The police popped in to say just so you know you’re on our radar,” she says. “We were just Jewish people having drinks.”

One agent says events like book fairs which “used to be really positive moments to connect” have become “really uncomfortable” for many Jewish people. “We don’t know what to expect,” she says.

“I think people are operating in a bit of a climate of fear about whether there will be protests directed at publishing at the London Book Fair, at Frankfurt, or Bologna.”

A spokesperson for the Publishers Association said: “The rise in anti-Semitic incidents in wider society since 7 October 2023 is deplorable, and it is concerning to hear these reports from Jewish colleagues working in our industry.

“Publishing plays a crucial role in sharing stories, ideas and knowledge to help us all make sense of the world and we know about the transformational power that books, reading and education can have.

“We believe it is essential that everyone who works in publishing, in whatever capacity and from whichever background, feels welcome and valued.

“As a sector, we also believe in freedom of expression in the strongest possible terms and that a diversity of viewpoints delivered by writers of all backgrounds is crucial to cultural and academic discourse.”

Jewish people in the industry can only hope that turns out to be true.

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