Is Judaism a race or a religion?

Now the courts begin to decide

On the face of it, yesterday's verdict by the UK Supreme Court that JFS (formerly the Jewish Free School) in north London was guilty of illegal discrimination in refusing entry to pupils whose mothers it did not consider to be "properly" Jewish seems a good one. As I wrote before about this case, the decision hinged on whether the Chief Rabbi's office recognised a potential pupil's mother as Jewish -- which means, specifically, Orthodox Jewish. Doesn't it seem immediately fair that those whose mothers are Reform, Liberal or Progressive Jews should be able to go to this very well-regarded institution as well?

Those who dislike the idea of faith schools altogether have also taken cheer from this ruling, on the grounds that they find any kind of religious entrance criteria to be odious and discriminatory. But we do now find ourselves in the curious situation that Muslim and Catholic schools might have a greater ability to determine eligibility than JFS does in future. No one expects Catholic schools, for instance, to give equal priority to the children of churchgoing Anglicans. But this decision certainly seems to force JFS -- an Orthodox school -- to be more open to other branches of Judaism.

A further complication is that the case was fought on the basis of ethnic, not religious, discrimination (which is why I don't take seriously Ed Balls's suggestion that this ruling may threaten the admissions criteria of all faith schools, which is how the Telegraph and the Mail rather alarmistly chose to report the news of the decision). JFS, it is said, excluded children it did not consider ethnically Jewish, because, according to Halachic law, that status belongs only to those with Orthodox Jewish mothers.

As the New York Times put it, in its much less hysterical report:

"One thing is clear about the matrilineal test; it is a test of ethnic origin," Lord Phillips, president of the court, said in his majority opinion. Under the law, he said, "By definition, discrimination that is based upon that test is discrimination on racial grounds."

The Catholic Education Service has already hit back at the ruling, saying:

What constitutes membership of a faith group or a religious denomination should be a matter for that faith or denomination to determine. That any other authority should deem to do this in place of the faith group, or for a body outside the faith group to claim that its decision as to what constitutes membership has priority, is a sad and undermining state of affairs.

But it also adds: "It is important, whilst noting our sympathy for our Jewish brothers and sisters, to remind that the judgment should not impact on Catholic schools. This is because the definition of being Catholic is clearly based on baptism and not on any ethnic or other factors."

Note those last few words, "ethnic or other factors". The argument that Jews constitute an ethnic group under the Race Relations Act 1976 and the Public Order Act 1986 was an important factor in a trial in Leeds this year, in which two men were convicted of inciting racial hatred against Jews. (I should add that while the anti-Semitic nature of the material they published is not in question, they are appealing the convictions on other grounds.)

An expert witness called to make that case, Professor Dan Cohn-Sherbok, is a liberal-minded man, a distinguished academic and a Reform rabbi. It is not in his nature to want to discriminate against anybody, still less to act in any way contrary to the preservation and good health of the Jewish community. Nonetheless, it seems to me that if a body of case law builds up, suggesting that Jewishness should be considered a matter of ethnicity, there might come to be a problem with having any Jewish schools at all.

The New York Times also quoted David Lightman, a JFS old boy whose family has been affected by the school's admissions policy. " 'God can work it out,' Lightman said. 'He's a big boy; he's been around for a long time. He can decide who's Jewish and who isn't.' " Much as one might wish to agree with him, the Supreme Court ruling means that it is no longer just up to God or the Chief Rabbi. The law is now having its say in this question, too -- and that is something everyone involved, ultimately, may rue.

Sholto Byrnes is a Contributing Editor to the New Statesman
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Forget sniffer dogs. To stop drug abuse in prison, fight the real enemy – boredom

Since I left prison in 2011, the system has had £900m sucked out of it. No wonder officers are struggling to control drug use.

It’s rare to go a day in prison without someone offering you drugs. When I was sentenced to 16 months in 2011, I was shocked by the sheer variety on offer. It wasn’t just cannabis, heroin, and prescription pills. If you wanted something special, you could get that too: ecstasy for an in-cell rave, cocaine for the boxing, and, in one case, LSD for someone who presumably wanted to turn the waking nightmare of incarceration up to eleven.

Those were sober times, compared to how things are today. New synthetic drugs – powerful, undetectable, and cheap – have since flooded the market. As the Ministry of Justice itself admitted in its recent White Paper, they’ve lost control: “The motivation and ability of prisoners and organised crime groups to use and traffic illegal drugs has outstripped our ability to prevent this trade.”

The upshot is that, rather than emerging from prison with a useful new trade or skill, inmates are simply picking up new drug habits. According to a report released on 8 December by drug policy experts Volteface, on average 8 per cent of people who did not have a previous drug problem come out of prison with one. In some of the worst institutions, the figure is as high as 16 per cent.

Why are people with no history of drug abuse being driven to it in prison?

There’s the jailbreak factor, of course. All prisoners dream of escape, and drugs are the easiest way out. But, according the report, the most common reason given by inmates is simply boredom.

Life when I was inside was relatively benign. On most days, for instance, there were enough members of staff on duty to let inmates out of their cells to shower, use a telephone, post a letter, or clean their clothes. Sometimes an emergency would mean that there might not be enough hands on deck to escort people off the wing to education, worship, drug therapy, healthcare, family visits, work, or other purposeful activities; but those occasions were mercifully rare.

Since then, the system has had £900m sucked out of it, and the number of operational staff has been reduced by 7,000. All such a skeleton crew can do is rush from one situation to the next. An assault or a suicide in one part of the prison (which have increased by 64 per cent and 75 per cent respectively since 2012) often results in the rest being locked down. The 2,100 new officers the MoJ has promised to recruit don’t come anywhere close to making up the shortfall. Purposeful activity – the cornerstone of effective rehabilitation – has suffered. Inmates are being forced to make their own fun.

Enter ‘synthetic cannabinoid receptor agonists’, or SCRAs, often more simply referred to by brand names such as ‘Spice’ or ‘Black Mamba’. Over 200 of them are available on the international market and they are, today, the most popular drugs in British prisons. A third of inmates admitted to having used ‘Spice’ within the last month, according to a recent survey conducted by User Voice, and the true figure is probably even higher.

As one serving prisoner recently told me: "It's the perfect drug. You can smoke it right under the governor's nose and they won't be able to tell. Not even the dogs can sniff it out."

The combination of extreme boredom and experimental drugs has given birth to scenes both brutal and bizarre. Mobile phone footage recently emerged from Forest Bank prison showing naked, muzzled prisoners – apparently under the influence of such drugs – being made to take part in human dog fights. At the same establishment, another naked prisoner introduces himself to the camera as an ‘Islamic Turkey Vulture’ before squatting over another inmate and excreting ‘golden eggs’, believed to be packets of drugs, into his mouth. It sounds more like a scene from Salò than the prison culture I recall.

The solution to this diabolical situation might seem obvious: but not to Justice Secretary Liz Truss. Her answers are more prison time (up to ten years) for visitors caught smuggling ‘spice’, and new technology to detect the use of these drugs, which will inevitably fail to keep up with the constantly changing experimental drugs market. Earlier this week, she even suggested that drug-delivery drones could be deterred using barking dogs.

Trying to solve prison problems with more prison seems the very definition of madness. Indeed, according to the Howard League for Penal Reform, over the last six years, inmates have received over a million days of extra punishment for breaking prison rules – which includes drug use – with no obvious positive effects.

Extra security measures – the training of ‘spice dogs’, for example – are also doomed to fail. After all, it’s not like prison drug dealers are hard to sniff out. They have the best trainers, the newest tracksuits, their cells are Aladdin’s Caves of contraband - and yet they rarely seem to get caught. Why? The image of a prison officer at HMP Wayland politely informing our wing dealer that his cell was scheduled for a search later that day comes to mind. Unless the huge demand for drugs in prison is dealt with, more security will only result in more corruption.

It might be a bitter pill for a Tory minister to swallow but it’s time to pay attention to prisoners’ needs. If the prodigious quantities of dangerous experimental drugs they are consuming are anything to go by, it’s stimulation they really crave. As diverting as extra drug tests, cell searches, and the sight of prison dogs trying to woof drones out of the sky might momentarily be, it’s not going to be enough.

That’s not to say that prisons should become funfairs, or the dreaded holiday camps of tabloid fantasy, but at the very last they should be safe, stable environments that give inmates the opportunity to improve their lives. Achieving that will require a degree of bravery, imagination, and compassion possibly beyond the reach of this government. But, for now, we live in hope. The prisoners, in dope.