Writing under the pen name Mendele Mokher Seforim (Mendel the bookseller), Sholem Yankev Abramovitsh made his Yiddish-language literary debut in 1864. His first works were biting satires of contemporary Jewish life, inspired by the thinking of the Haskalah, or Jewish enlightenment. But as he matured, and became increasingly aware of the ferocity of anti-Semitism in his native Russia, his criticism of the Jews softened while he redirected his scorn at their oppressors. In a sweeping essay, Ruth Wisse explores this transformation, focusing on Di kliatshe (“The Mare”), which she deems Mendele’s “masterwork.” The novel relates the conversation between the protagonist Isrolik and the titular mare—originally a prince, transformed into her current state by wicked sorcerers and under constant attack by man and dog alike—who is a stand-in for the Jewish people itself. (Free registration required.)

Isrolik is stirred and angered by the mare’s desperate condition. A member in good standing of the Russian version of the Humane Society, he declares himself her loyal protector and advises her how to regain her standing, . . . and he trots out his enlightenment agenda. If only she were to improve her appearance, reform her behavior, prove herself useful, and get a proper education, she would be accepted among the other steeds.

But the mare has had enough. Against her Gentile pursuers she has no recourse, but she will not submit to the false bromides of a fellow Jew. She accuses him of being disingenuous. His membership in high-minded groups did not help him drive off the dogs, so what is the real value of his goodwill? Other horses don’t have to prove their right to graze. . . .

Mendele’s mare corrects the false premise of Isrolik’s rationalism. Jews may be in need of reform, but they cannot and should not have to prove their right to flourish. Isrolik should not be trying to whip up sympathy for the poor Jews on the one hand and blaming them for the aggression they inspire on the other. The principle of human rights for the individual citizen applies equally to minorities in the family of nations. Toleration and equal opportunity are the preconditions of citizenship, not rewards to be meted out by capricious authorities. Isrolik’s compassion for the mare is no substitute for ensuring political equality.

While it is commendable that administrators of several universities finally called upon police to crack down on violent and disruptive anti-Israel protests, the actions they have taken may be insufficient. At Columbia, demonstrators reestablished their encampment on the main quad after it had been cleared by the police, and the university seems reluctant to use force again. The school also decided to hold classes remotely until the end of the semester. Such moves, whatever their merits, do nothing to fix the factors that allowed campuses to become hotbeds of pro-Hamas activism in the first place. The editors of National Review examine how things go to this point:

Since the 10/7 massacre, Columbia’s Jewish students have been forced to endure routine calls for their execution. It shouldn’t have taken the slaughter, rape, and brutalization of Israeli Jews to expose chants like “Globalize the intifada” and “Death to the Zionist state” as calls for violence, but the university refused to intervene on behalf of its besieged students. When an Israeli student was beaten with a stick outside Columbia’s library, it occasioned little soul-searching from faculty. Indeed, it served only as the impetus to establish an “Anti-Semitism Task Force,” which subsequently expressed “serious concerns” about the university’s commitment to enforcing its codes of conduct against anti-Semitic violators.

But little was done. Indeed, as late as last month the school served as host to speakers who praised the 10/7 attacks and even “hijacking airplanes” as “important tactics that the Palestinian resistance have engaged in.”

The school’s lackadaisical approach created a permission structure to menace and harass Jewish students, and that’s what happened. . . . Now is the time finally to do something about this kind of harassment and associated acts of trespass and disorder. Yale did the right thing when police cleared out an encampment [on Monday]. But Columbia remains a daily reminder of what happens when freaks and haters are allowed to impose their will on campus.