Some judged a weekend. We lived three years

Following my article in the The AJN and my interview with Josh Burns on Behind The Headlines about the ALP National Conference in late July, I received a familiar chorus of criticism.

“Traitor”. “Capitulators”. And the mildest rebuke, “Deeply troubling.”

Apparently, after nearly three years of fighting inside the Labor movement for our community, we have somehow become the problem.

Let me set the record straight. Those offering these judgments were, for the most part, not the ones sitting in branch meetings after 7 October. They were not the ones walking into State Conferences wondering whether today’s abuse would be verbal or physical. They were not the ones being called “filthy Zios”, watching Palestinian flags dominate political events, facing motions built on falsehoods, enduring intimidation and harassment, or seeing the Jewish state caricatured as uniquely evil.

Many of us were, week after week, month after month across ALP branches, conferences, unions and internal forums. In chats and txts, and endlessly vicious online abuse. It was exhausting and frequently demoralising. But we understood what the moment demanded.

Our task was never to win every argument. It was to restore sanity and hold the political centre.

Nick Dyrenfurth described it well when he warned of the “entryism” of sections of the Socialist far left, aligned with Islamist movements whose hostility to Israel is not merely political but ideological and, in many cases, a simple racial hatred. That alliance sought to redefine Labor, and by extension Australia’s moral centre of gravity.

Our responsibility was to stop that happening. Not by walking away. But by staying, arguing, organising and persuading. By refusing to surrender the Labor movement to voices that neither represented its traditions nor Australia’s interests. Many good people—Jewish and non-Jewish alike—did exactly that.

I and others received so many messages telling us we were wasting our time. “Leave Labor.” “It’s lost.” “You’ll never change it.”

If we had followed that advice, who exactly would have been left to resist? Who would have challenged the demonisation of Israel inside the Party? Who would have defended Jewish members? Who would have stood shoulder-to-shoulder with non-Jewish supporters of Israel and the Jewish community? Who would have ensured that the centre of Labor politics remained a place where disagreement did not become dehumanisation?

Politics does not reward empty chairs. It rewards those prepared to occupy them.

Which brings me to this year’s National Conference. No, it was not perfect. There were platform resolutions with which I profoundly disagree and there remains much work to do. There are still people inside the Party whose views on our beloved Israel I find abhorrent.

None of that should be minimised. But neither should reality.

Because this conference did not have a sea of keffiyehs and there were no Palestinian flags dominating proceedings. There was no campaign of intimidation against Jewish delegates. No abuse in the corridors and no harassment. No inane slogans screamed at us. Something had changed.

Cabinet ministers, MPs, union leaders and grassroots activists deliberately reached out to Jewish members. There was a conscious effort to ensure that Jewish delegates felt they belonged. For myself, I have been asked to speak in ALP Branches about Israel and the Australian Jewish community.

Yes, it took the horror of Bondi for many in the Party to understand where the politics of demonisation ultimately leads. I wish it had not. But it did.

When I thanked a senior Cabinet Minister for ensuring Jewish members felt safe at Conference, she embraced me. That was not theatre. It was recognition that something needed to change, and that in telling her, it will reinforce the need to keep the Government’s guard up.

Should we dismiss ALP National Conference because it is incomplete and flawed, as some do, or recognise it as the beginning of reclaiming the political centre?

Because that is what this has always been about. Not unanimity and not ideological victory. But ensuring that Australia’s governing party remains a place where Australian Jews are treated as friends, not suspects.

Some seem to believe that unless everything changes immediately, nothing has changed at all. Politics simply doesn’t work that way. It isn’t zero-sum, as much as many wish it were.

There is, however, a conversation the Australian Jewish community itself now needs to have.

For years, many of us have quietly asked for greater support for the work being done inside the Labor Party and the union movement. Not because we wanted recognition but because we understood where the battle would ultimately be won or lost. Israel solidarity missions we have led matter enormously. They build understanding, friendships and political capital. Thank goodness they happen.

But they are only one front. The harder front is the one few people ever see. It is the branch meeting on a Tuesday night where another distorted motion must be challenged. It is the union conference where lies about Israel have to be answered. It is the quiet conversation with a minister, a union secretary, a future MP or a local activist before positions harden. It is building trust over years so that, when a crisis comes, someone inside the room listens before the slogans begin.

That work is slow and rarely visible. Unlike social media outrage, it almost never produces instant gratification. Yet it is precisely that work which changed the atmosphere at this year’s National Conference.

So here is the uncomfortable question. If the Jewish community believes that engagement inside Australia’s governing party matters, why have the people doing that work been left to fund so much of it themselves? If we believe influence matters, why do we invest so little in those whose job is to build it? If we celebrate those who fly overseas to explain Israel, why don’t we equally support those who spend every week explaining Israel here at home—to the people who will become parliamentarians, ministers, premiers, union leaders and prime ministers?

Influence is not built during a crisis. It is accumulated before one.

The irony of the criticism directed at Jewish Labor members after Conference is that it proved precisely why this work matters. Some judged a weekend. We have lived three years. Some saw a platform. We saw relationships that have slowly, painstakingly been rebuilt. Some saw compromise. We saw the political centre beginning to re-emerge after years in which it was under sustained assault.

No-one is asking for applause. But perhaps it is time the Australian Jewish community recognised that if it wants a strong voice inside the Labor movement, it must help build one. Because influence is not free. It requires people, persistence and resources. And above all, it requires a community prepared to back those willing to stay in the room long after everyone else has walked out.

Otherwise, don’t be surprised if the only voices left speaking into Australia’s major institutions are those who have spent the past three years trying to silence ours.

There is one final irony. Many of those who now criticise the Jewish Labor Movement are the very people who, in the next crisis, will ask: “Where are our friends in Cabinet?” “Where are our allies in the caucus?” “Why didn’t anyone inside the Party speak up?”

The answer to those questions is not found during the crisis.

It is found years beforehand. It is found in branch meetings no-one attends, the union conferences no-one reports, and in a myriad of conversations no-one sees. In patient relationship-building that produces no headlines until the day those relationships become indispensable.

Political capital is like compound interest. It accumulates slowly, almost invisibly, and then suddenly becomes invaluable. That is what the Jewish Labor Movement has been doing.

We have not asked anyone to agree with every tactical decision we make. Healthy disagreement is inevitable. But if our community believes that influence inside Australia’s governing party matters—and I believe it does—then influence must be built, sustained and funded.

Because history teaches us something simple: if people of goodwill leave the room, others will occupy it. If moderate voices are not organised, organised extremists will define the conversation. If we refuse to invest in relationships, we should not expect them to exist when we desperately need them.

So my request is not that you applaud us. It is that you understand the work. Back it and strengthen it and hold us accountable.

But don’t weaken one of the very few organised Jewish voices still fighting every week inside Australia’s largest political party and the party of Government.

Because this has never been about the Jewish Labor Movement. It has always been about ensuring that, when the next test comes, as we know it will, the Australian Jewish community is not standing outside the room, knocking on a door that no longer opens.

Adam Slonim is an ALP Life Member, podcaster and businessman.