The Fiery Prophet Who Named Jewish Self-Hatred

Graphic by Angelie Zaslavsky
The German Jewish philosopher Theodor Lessing was a firebrand, author of profoundly unsettling books such as 1930’s “Jewish Self-Hatred” (Der jüdische Selbsthaß), a welcome new edition of which has just appeared from Agora from Presses Pocket in France.
It’s translated and introduced by Maurice-Ruben Hayoun, a Germanist who teaches Jewish philosophy at the University of Geneva and publishes frequently on historical questions of Jewish identity and Jewish philosophy. Also a specialist on The Zohar, Hayoun explains that Lessing irked his contemporaries, but posterity has often proven him correct, such as when “Jewish Self-Hatred” states that German Jewry’s quest for social assimilation was a lethal delusion.
Lessing cites a series of exceedingly unhappy Jews, including two Austrian Jewish philosophers, Arthur Trebitsch and Otto Weininger — the hysterical author once described by the Jerusalem Post as “auto-anti-Semitic.”
Lessing’s Zionist foresight made him eventually flee to Marienbad, Czechoslovakia, where he was murdered in 1933 by Nazis who clearly saw him as an early enemy (Czech President Tomáš Masaryk called Lessing “Nazism’s first victim”). Hayoun places Lessing alongside Gershom Scholem — especially in Scholem’s much-admired memoir “From Berlin to Jerusalem: Memories of My Youth” — as a critic of assimilation, although Lessing did not live long enough to be able to pronounce any I-told-you-so’s.
Lessing is less well known for a curious, if less life-or-death, cause that he presciently embraced around the turn-of-the-century: noise abatement. In 1907 he founded the first German anti-noise society (Antilärmverein), to combat urban bedlam.
Certainly Lessing fought exhausting battles to put his ideas across; one student recalled Lessing as “resembling a somewhat fatigued actor” in class, which is understandable given his unrelieved pugnacity, even with people who might ordinarily have agreed with some of his views. For instance, Lessing attacked the now-largely forgotten Prussian Jewish critic Samuel Lublinski for “selling himself’ to the German literary establishment. Part of that establishment, the novelist Thomas Mann, whose work had been lauded by Lublinski, then published a 1910 article stating that Lessing was a “disgraceful dwarf who should consider himself lucky that the sun shines on him, too.”
The controversy, as recounted in Hermann Kurzke’s 2002 “Thomas Mann: Life as a Work of Art. A Biography” does not make any of the participants look good. Like most prophets, who are rarely pleasant people to know personally, Lessing looks better today than he did during his lifetime, especially since his writings may now be read “in the Shadow of Auschwitz,” as one 1994 German study plausibly situates him.
Watch Lessing’s translator Maurice-Ruben Hayoun discuss ethics in 2010.
Watch Hayoun analyze the prewar crises in the German Jewish community, including Lessing’s, at a 2003 Paris colloquium.
This is a moment of great uncertainty. Here’s what you can do about it.
We hope you appreciated this article. Before you go, we’d like to ask you to please support the Forward’s independent Jewish news. All donations are still being matched by the Forward Board - up to $100,000 until April 24.
This is a moment of great uncertainty for the news media, for the Jewish people, and for our sacred democracy. It is a time of confusion and declining trust in public institutions. An era in which we need humans to report facts, conduct investigations that hold power to account, tell stories that matter and share honest discourse on all that divides us.
With no paywall or subscriptions, the Forward is entirely supported by readers like you. Every dollar you give is invested in the future of the Forward — and telling the American Jewish story fully and fairly.
The Forward doesn’t rely on funding from institutions like governments or your local Jewish federation. There are thousands of readers like you who give us $18 or $36 or $100 each month or year.

