“How about the protocols of the Elders of Zion?” asked McCall.
“What’s that?” asked Robert.
“That’s the book that’s supposed to be the basis of the accusation that the Jews have a world-wide plot against all governments.”
“Have you read it?” asked Rabbi Levin.
“No.”
“Then it is hard to speak about it. If you read it you would see right away that it was a forgery. In the first place, Elders of Zion. You see, the people who wrote it, forgot that there is no such a thing as a Jewish central organization, like, say, the Holy See for the Catholics. There is no such thing as the Elders of Zion. It couldn’t be, because there is no such thing as Zion, that is a united Jewish people politically. The Elders of Zion are supposed to be some official body meeting in connection with the first Zionist convention. But the Zionist convention was open, so that all reporters could come there, so how is it no one should know of such a plot? Of course, if the Zionists would have wanted no governments they would not spend their time and money and risk their lives now in settling Palestine for a government of the Jews. But why should I tell you it is a forgery? You know what it is, historical method?”
Robert had not studied it, but he knew what it was from college. Students majoring in history and graduate students took it.
“Well, you know, you can tell by examining documents whether they are true or fakes. It’s wrong here. It’s wrong there. A contradiction. You know how it is. Well, a much better man than I, and a Gentile, has called it a forgery. Who is that? You should know, the head from the greatest detective force in the world, Scotland Yard, Sir Basil Thompson.”
Robert laughed. “Well, that’s proof enough for me.”
At the table there were queer dishes. There was herring for an appetiser, a cold soup, which they called borsht, which was red, tasted of beets and was eaten with cream. Appetizing envelopes of dough filled with cheese and eaten with sour cream, called blinches. Strudel, a sort of crisp tart filled with prunes.