[Image: Not so funny. The debate where my Temple of Britishness was desecrated by an Egyptian zealot. I am ANGRY. Very, very angry.]
What transpired at the Oxford Union recently cut deep. Not just as a former official and prolific speaker at the UCL Debating Society; and not just as a virulent opponent of the terrorist attack on language by the anti-semitic genocide libellers; but rather as a humble Briton. A humble Briton who is witnessing the hollowing out of his nation by enemies of our values.
The British identity is not a mere denotation of citizenship; an empty label attracting welfare benefits and generic human rights. To be British is far more than holding a passport, receiving your national insurance card or being born on an Atlantic-swept island. Rather Britishness is a Searlean peg on which to hang certain values. These values may evolve over time, but its clustered essence remains.
Chief among these values is the sacred elixir of debate. I speak not merely of freedom of expression, contemporaneously interpreted as the “right” to march for hate and the “duty” to speak virally on social media. But debate. The dying British political art of standing, speaking and orating on matters close to your heart while they there assembled listen silently, politely disagreeing. The idea of a neutral chair, who leaves his biases on the green benches, ensuring blessed neutrality seasoned with calls for order. And the satisfying dessert of leaving all disagreement agreeably behind while enjoying a post-debate pint with your opponents in the bar. This three-pronged ritual is essentially and eccentrically British, as wonderfully inherent as creamed tea, cricket and behaving disgracefully in Benidorm.
This heartfelt paragraph is no mere stereotype; no magpied cliché from the pages of Lonely Planet. Rather it is lived experience. It is me. My most-treasured identity writ large. At university, I was presented with a freshers’ week choice. Join a myopic political party, guaranteeing probable career advancement for the consideration of ignoring the other’s view. Join the Jewish Society, quivering in fear at enemies round about, while studiously avoiding entering the fray. Or join the ancient 175 year old Debating Society, challenging my opponents, listening to perspectives unknown and exposing myself to vulnerability, all in a spirit of friendliness, respect and unfailing tolerance. My choice was clear. Potential political and/or Jewish leadership was idealistically shunned for debate. British debate. Tolerance over hate and sectarianism. I saw the student union Palestinianism as something to challenge, not to fear. Clear in my beliefs, I entered the chamber emboldened.
I joined the higher echelons of this ancient and most august debating society, speaking alongside the great and the (not so) good, crafting our most popular motions. The Presidents - my friends - were of diverse political origins. My first Debating Society “boss” was Dr Ross Ford, a Welsh conservative-leaning President, now working in the Senedd. The second was a pro-Palestinian communist, walking human encyclopaedia and University Challenge finalist Dr Roger Wesson, a physics academic born in Reading like myself and now based in Cardiff. The third was James Berry, a future and stereotypically “posh” Conservative MP until recently representing a South West London constituency. Working as a senior committee member, I was struck by their impeccable impartiality in the chair, always treating speakers with neutrality and respect. Their individual politics never affected either their personal nor official conduct and all were willing to mix with politically-diverse committee members in social situations.
Of the three Presidents just mentioned, it was far-left Roger who I admired the most, not for his views but for the manner in which he engaged with others politically and personally. The Debating Society internet forum set up in his era of responsibility was an intelligent pre-Twitter tool used for polite discussion. Real persuasion was possible and realised. Most extraordinarily of all, in what seems like a story from another era, it was communist Roger who hosted me for two nights at a key moment in my life: when I was in London to discuss moving to Israel at the Jewish Agency. He knew why I was there. He was respectful and tolerant. And he was a mensch. Personal politics didn’t affect personal behaviour. And far from feeling unsafe, it was there that I felt most able to express my Zionist ambitions.
The Debating Society itself was a place of free debate and although the students were generally Palestinian-inclined left wingers, they respected the rules of the British game. Name calling was off limits. Opponents were described as “misguided” not fascists. And in an Israel debate organised by yours truly, my opponents were most gracious. The Head of the Centre of British-Arab Understanding was kind, polite and moderate. The white left-winger Mike whispered to me “If you were in the Israeli government, there wouldn’t be a problem”. And accomplished barrister turned religious Muslim Fatima refused to endorse the pro-Intifada motion, abstaining against the side she was speaking on and refusing to endorse Palestinian violence! Meanwhile, in the pub afterwards, Zionist movement heads Greg Kreiger (a subscriber, hi!) and religious Zionist Adam Ross were having a wonderful social time with our “opponents”. It was there that educator Adam spoke about his coming move to Israel, the only place where he felt a Jew could fully embrace his religious self. Far from attracting calls of genocide, the “anti-Israel side” showed full empathy, even agreement, with his position. I remember clearly the positive reaction of the representative from the Centre for British-Arab understanding. And in a piece of sublime historical resolution, a miracle happened. Adam, Greg and Fatima all went to Birmingham University together and whilst Adam and Fatima used their time there to boycott each other's events, there in the ULU Union on Malet Street they reconciled in peace.
What I have just described is the real Britain. The real Britons Roger, Daniel, Adam, Greg, Fatima and Mike. All from different religions and backgrounds. All infused with British values of tolerance and respect. And all ultimately interested in peace in the Middle East. (Three of us were born in the Royal Berkshire Hospital, Reading like Princess Kate Middleton, actress Kate Winslet and (UCL) comedian Ricky Gervais so perhaps that was the tolerant commonality??!)
Oh how times have changed! Today, the British Debating Society is a bear pit, an unsafe space crafted by unBritish foreign interlopers from Egypt who are enemies of our society and all it stands for. Ebrahim Osman-Mowafy, Egyptian Arab President of the Oxford Union, is no Ross, Roger or James. He is no devout Islamic Fatima either. He disgracefully used his pulpit to conduct a manifestly non-impartial Middle Eastern debate, allowing hatred to run riot and his political biases to blatantly shine through. Indeed he orchestrated the hate.
My issue is not with Ebrahim’s opinions. It is with his abuse of position, unprecedented as it is in British university debating history. More than that, it is his contempt for Britain and its values. No Briton can countenance a sacred debating society chamber, the breeding ground for tolerance, inter-political discussion and social mingling, being desecrated by this foreign ideology from the unfree land of Islamist, autocratic Egypt. It is as if I went to Mecca and destroyed the holy mosques, God forbid. Osman-Mowafy is like a radical zealot who blew up my Temple, my religious holy site and he expects me to sit quietly and accept this disgraceful insult. He has murdered my culture, my religion and my values. He did more than anger me. He destroyed my holy sites and he will pay for this grave injustice.
I call on the British government and people to act. Whether they are called Adam, Roger or Fatima. Whatever their religion. There can be no place for Ebrahim Osman-Mowafy in our country. He and his fellow philistines who dare defile the sacred space of the debating society chamber have no place here. They must leave quietly or have their student VISAs revoked. Insulting Oxford University I can handle. But destroying debate I may not. I gave up a political career for real debate. I gave up Jewish isolationism for real debate. And now I find that while the Jews of my time were paranoid about the dangers and I was the fearless interlocutor, bringing together Adam, Fatima, Mike and Roger and engaging with the (not-so-bad) outside world, today the Jews are right and Oxford Union is the evidence of this. I declare Jihad on hatred and the forces of anti-debate; those who would purge decency from our streets, universities and drinking halls; and the time for action is now.
May the name Ebrahim Osman-Mowafy forever be cursed for what he is turning us into.
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I sat in abject horror as I read Jonathan Sacerdoti’s harrowing account of the events that took place at the Oxford University debate, how every single one of the team in which he participated was vilified, mocked, and harassed. This is not the noble tradition of argument and debate that we cherish, though it does bear mentioning that Oxford has a chequered past with respect to dalliances with the evil encountered most recently. It should never be forgotten that the debate on whether to fight if Hitler attacked ended with a vote that shamefully stains this entire country, for with it Hitler could assume that Operation Sea Lion could proceed apace, safe in the knowledge that the future leadership of the country would never take up arms against the Wehrmacht. Shame on Oxford University for allowing this evil to be nurtured and promoted.
Sorry for 3 spelling mistakes in the first two sentences.