Tolerance is not protection.

Introduction: The Illusion of Tolerance

The concept of tolerance is often heralded as a benchmark for progress and democracy. However, when examining the history of Jewish communities, tolerance proves to be a fragile and conditional social contract. Leon de Modena’s 17th-century autobiographical record, The Life of Judah, provides an intimate account of the Venetian Jewish experience, challenging the notion that mere existence within a society equates to acceptance. In Venice, Jews were tolerated—but only within the confines of segregation, restriction, and vulnerability.

This paper explores how Venetian Jews navigated systemic exclusion, how their ghetto functioned as both a space of survival and oppression, and how so-called tolerance failed to protect them from collective punishment, discrimination, and violence. Ultimately, this study argues that tolerance without protection and inclusion is meaningless—a sentiment that resonates far beyond 17th-century Venice.

The Venetian Ghetto: A Segregated Existence

The Venetian ghetto, first established in 1516, was a paradox: it provided a designated space for Jewish life while simultaneously cementing their exclusion from broader Venetian society. Modena references his community in the ghetto as a place of shared identity, yet it was also a site of isolation and state-imposed confinement. Despite interaction between Christians and Jews—such as Catholic preachers attending synagogue or Modena’s exchanges with Christian astrologers—the physical and social boundaries remained intact.

A striking example of this divide occurred during the plague of 1631, when the Jewish quarters suffered disproportionately. While Christians had access to greater mobility and medical resources, Jews were locked within their ghetto, left to suffer and die at higher rates. Modena’s writings underscore the cruel irony: a community that was tolerated yet abandoned when true crisis struck.

Collective Punishment and Social Stigma

In Venice, a crime committed by one Jew became a crime committed by all. Modena recounts the case of Grassin Scaramella and Sabbadin Catelano, who were accused of stealing gold and silk. In response, Venetian authorities shut down the entire ghetto, collectively punishing the entire Jewish population. The public outcry against Jews intensified, illustrating how tolerance was only extended when Jews were perceived as obedient and compliant.

Modena summarizes this stark reality: “For when one individual committed a crime, they would grow angry at the entire community.” The ghetto gates, locked every night after a strict curfew, were a physical manifestation of Venetian control—a reminder that Jews existed at the whim of Christian authorities, or, as the dominant cultures painted it, because of the charity of ‘holier men.’

Conditional Tolerance and Expulsions

Venetian authorities decided who could stay and who was expendable. Punishments for suspected crimes ranged from heavy fines to lifelong banishment, not only for the accused but for their entire families. Modena describes how fathers, sons, and brothers of the guilty were expelled without trial, reinforcing that Jewish presence in Venice was not a right but a temporary allowance, subject to Christian discretion.

Internal Struggles: Crime and Poverty in the Ghetto

The psychological and social consequences of forced segregation extended beyond external oppression. Modena’s personal struggles—particularly his gambling addiction—highlight the despair and financial instability that plagued many Jews in the ghetto. He links his personal vices to broader societal hardships, noting how oppression fosters cycles of poverty, crime, and internal community tensions.

The murder of Modena’s son, Zebulun, by fellow Jews in the ghetto underscores this reality. While Venetian authorities created the conditions of Jewish suffering, internalized oppression manifested within the community itself, leading to acts of violence and self-destruction.

Relative Privilege: Was Venice “Better” Than Other Regions?

While Modena’s writings paint a bleak picture of Jewish life in Venice, it is important to contextualize this within broader European history. Compared to the Spanish Inquisition or French expulsions of Jews, Venice offered more legal protections and social mobility.

Modena, for instance, was permitted to travel freely, engage with Christian scholars, and earn a comfortable living as a rabbi, writer, and teacher. His privileges were rare but serve as a reminder that tolerance was selectively granted to those who conformed to Venetian expectations. However, his relative success does not erase the systemic barriers faced by the broader Jewish population.

The Emotional Toll: Modena’s Perspective

Beyond legal and social structures, Modena’s own words reveal the emotional toll of Venetian tolerance. He frequently laments his lack of joy and enduring grief, stating:

“Ever since I was born, I have had no joy… neither have I seen any good in this world.”

His sorrow is not an isolated experience. From the murder of his son to the loss of his daughter and wife, Modena’s life was marked by personal and communal tragedy, much of it exacerbated by institutionalized oppression.

Conclusion: Tolerance Without Inclusion is Not Enough

The Venetian Jewish experience challenges the idea that tolerance equates to justice. While Jews were permitted to exist, they were never truly accepted. The ghetto walls symbolized a society that tolerated difference but refused to embrace it.

Modena’s The Life of Judah serves as both a historical account and a cautionary tale: mere tolerance is not enough. Without legal protection, social inclusion, and true equality, tolerance remains a hollow gesture, one that ultimately sustains oppression rather than dismantling it.