"Honnêtement je ne me souviens pas d'avoir vu jusqu'à présent dans un journal national l'expression aussi crue, aussi cruelle et sans merci et de prégujés anti-juifs." (Stephen Pollard)
"Je viens de lire l'un des articles les plus laids, les plus vils jamais publié dans la presse britannique. De fait, l'article distille du venin." (Myriam Shaviv)
"Quand je me suis installée à Stamford Hill, je ne me suis pas rendue compte que les goyim étaient presque [le presque change tout, n'est-ce pas?] aussi bienvenus dans les magasin des Juifs hassidiques que Martin Luther King à une convention du Klu Klux Klan." (Christina Patterson)
La journaliste Christina Patterson fustige dans The Independent les mauvaises manières des Juifs hassidiques dans un article intitulé Les limites du multiculturalisme. Voici quelques extraits:
"I would like to teach some of my neighbours some manners. I would like, for example, to say to the man who drove the wrong way up a one-way street on Sunday night, while chatting away on his mobile phone, and to the man who nearly backed into me yesterday, while also chatting on his mobile phone, and to the man who drove into my friend's van last week, while also chatting on his mobile phone, that while they clearly enjoy the art of conversation, it's one that doesn't combine brilliantly with driving.
And I would like to say to the man who drove the wrong way into the car park at Morrisons, and then hooted me, and who parked in a mother and baby slot when he was on his own, and the car park was practically empty, that it seemed a rather aggressive thing to do, and also rather lazy, and I would like to say to the man from whom I bought some paper cups, and who handled my money as if it had been dipped in anthrax, that it wouldn't kill him to say "please" or "thank you", and I would like to say to the fishmonger who asked my (black) friend whether he really wanted to buy some fish from his shop, that you should probably assume that if someone is asking for fish in your shop, then the answer is in the affirmative.
And I would like to say to the little boy who sat bang in the middle of two seats on the bus and who, when I tried to sit next to him, leapt up as if infection from the ebola virus was imminent, that it does slightly make one feel like a pariah, and I would like to say to the women who roam the streets with double-decker pushchairs and vast armies of children, that it's sometimes nice to allow someone else to get past, and I would like to say to all these people that I don't care if they wear frock-coats, and funny suits and hats covered in plastic bags, and insist on wearing their hair in ringlets (if they're male) or covered up by wigs (if they're female), but I do think they could treat their neighbours with a bit more courtesy and just a little bit more respect.
When I moved to Stamford Hill, 12 years ago, I didn't realise that goyim were about as welcome in the Hasidic Jewish shops as Martin Luther King at a Klu Klux Klan convention. I didn't realise that a purchase by a goy was a crime to be punished with monosyllabic terseness, or that bus seats were a potential source of contamination, or that road signs, and parking restrictions, were for people who hadn't been chosen by God. And while none of this is a source of anything much more than irritation, when I see an eight-year-old boy recoiling from a normal-looking woman (because, presumably, he has been taught that she is dirty or dangerous, or, heaven forbid, dripping with menstrual blood) it makes me sad."
Lire l'excellente analyse de Miriam Shaviv dans Jewish Chronicle ICI
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