“This,” says Robinson, “is the airborne vessel on which the magician Bladud flew to London where he crashed on Ludgate Hill, the last stone of a circle that stood on the site of St. Paul’s. … This is the stone that Jack Cade, the Kentish rebel, struck with his staff when he took possession of the city.”
A stone can endure, it can change, it can harm, it can heal. It can make you rich, it can make you poor, it can become an enemy, a friend, and a teacher. It can carry your memories and your dreams. It can build empires and bury cities. It can reveal the history of the universe. It can open and close the gates of philosophy. It can change the course of nature. It can change its own nature. It can empty the world of time.
If we want to understand what has become of the Jewish state today, we must think hard about the remarkable appeal of Zionism and the peculiar intensity of its progenitor, antisemitism. Such powerful, sustaining, world-changing ideologies. If antisemitism is a “proteophobia”—an anxiety aroused by someone who “does not fall easily into any of the established categories”—Zionism is a protean ideology….