Why are there no Jewish characters in children’s books?

The story is a rare instance of YA literature tackling the appalling events of the Hamas massacre and the aftermath, although it is not set in Israel. Instead it focuses on a 12-year-old British girl, Tamara Cohen, and her family and friends, and examines the impact of October 7 on their lives – not only the external antisemitism, but the tensions within their family. “I decided to set it in a mixed London high school and it would be during November, so still reeling from October 7, with rising polarisation,” she says. “And I wanted the book to end on December 7, which was exactly two months later and was the first night of Chanukah.”

In the book Gidi, Tamara’s young cousin from Israel, comes to stay with her family, and attends her school. As well as being Israeli, he is a chess geek with OCD, and as far as Tamara is concerned, he attracts unwelcome attention. However, Gidi’s moment of triumph comes when he eventually marches in to confront the headteacher about antisemitism in school.

The racist bullying experienced by characters in the book, such as schoolchildren being told to get off the pavement because it’s not a Jew pavement, or bullies dubbing a playground football match “Israel v Palestine”, are based on real-life incidents, either experienced by Miriam or confided to her.

One personal experience she recounts is a positive one, about her synagogue Iftar. An annual event, it was held in February 2024, with Muslim guests invited as usual. Halahmy didn’t know if she wanted to go, but she did – and a Muslim friend greeted her there.

“We hugged and both said: ‘I didn’t know if I wanted to come’. It was a shared moment.”

Fear for Jewish children’s authors online is palpable. I have had some very difficult times

What prevents the book being weighed down by its message is the strength of Halahmy’s characterisation. Tamara is no perfect heroine – she has a “chilli temper”, which brings about a rift between her and her father. He in his turn is so absorbed in the situation in Israel, where his younger brother is serving in the army, that he loses all perspective on his own family. Yaz, Tamara’s Muslim best friend, pulls away from her. (“I know the pain of that,” says Halahmy, with feeling). Even Tamara’s six-year-old sister, Eden, has taken to sucking her thumb.

And it is emphatically a book on a child reader’s level. “They’re 12-year-olds, they’re very much in the moment; they’re not going to talk about 1948. They’re not going to discuss the history of the region but they are going to say ‘the children are scared’,” says Halahmy. “The children in Gaza right now are scared of the bombs and the Israeli children are wetting the bed because they think Hamas are going to come and take them away.”

But the characters remain complex in their allegiances. “You have to write characters that are 3D and they’re not always going to say what you want them to say,” adds Halahmy. “But I tried to put in some humour; they’re kids!” she adds. One memorable scene is in the toilets at the Shard, where Tamara tries to escape her vertigo, only to find herself in a tiny space with an enormous window looking down over the City. Tamara’s grandmother and her senior friends are hilarious, as dauntless campaigners, confronting clueless placard-bearers in Trafalgar Square. “You have to have moments when the reader can go pffffffhew.”

She thinks the book has only become more relevant since she wrote it. “All we have is a ceasefire. That’s not peace. But there are many grassroots movements who see things a different way. And I’m hopeful my book can contribute to the peace.

“My great inspiration is the peacemakers in Israel, with their partners in the region and around the world. And particularly Ittay Flescher, my husband’s nephew, who runs the organisation Kids 4 Peace, bringing together Palestinian and Jewish teenagers in Jerusalem. After October 7 I asked Ittay: ‘Do you meet any more?’ He said they couldn’t at first; it was too dangerous to go out, but then they did. I asked if the kids yelled at each other when they met. He said they threw their arms around each other; they’d missed each other. Did they talk about politics? No, they talked about the things they enjoyed, like music.”

Aside from the political situation, Pomegranates for Peace makes an important contribution to another campaign – for diversity in children’s books.

“It’s becoming more apparent to people that Jewish kids are invisible in UK children’s literature, which is not the case in America,” says Halahmy, who recently spoke on the issue at a National Literacy Trust “Diverse Libraries” webinar. Almost the only representation of Jewish children is in what Halahmy calls “the safe zone” of Holocaust books. “In Always Here for You, [her novel about online grooming] no reviewer ever mentioned Noah is Jewish, even though he has a bar mitzvah,” she says. “I wrote a Jewish character deliberately because of this invisibility. At the webinar I spoke about my journey towards writing Jewish characters and now I will only write Jewish characters. You cannot talk about diversity without them. The kids in my books are modern Progressive kids; I’m a Progressive Jew. They’re relatable. They do Jewish activities like Shabbat, Chanukah (a diverse Chanukah, inviting diverse people). There’s no point in writing Jewish kids if they don’t do anything Jewish.

“I didn’t even say I was Jewish on social media until David Baddiel put up his tag ‘Jew’ on Twitter.” Then she put “Anglo-Jewish grandmother, author and retired rock climber”, making a joke of it. “Fear for Jewish children’s authors online is palpable. I’ve had very difficult times.”

The webinar organisers were certainly wary. “They turned off all the chat and questions and tried to check everyone coming in.”

There may not yet be closure for the Middle East, but there has to be a satisfying ending for the book. “It’s a book for children and you can’t leave children in the middle of a mess. Whenever I write a challenging book I think ‘what can the children do?’. In The Emergency Zoo [her middle-grade novel focusing on the order to destroy pets at the outbreak of the Second World War] the children decide to try to rescue their pets. In a story I wrote for a climate change anthology, the children decide to bicycle to school.”

A special section at the back of Pomegranates for Peace provides a starting point for how to build peace. It lists ways “ordinary” children today can promote peace – from writing a poem, rapping or making a YouTube video, to supporting grassroots peace organisations.

“I have had great endorsement, including some from non-Jewish librarians and from a Christian educator. They especially liked the information in the book and the fact it gives hope,” says Halahmy.

After hearing from young Jews and Palestinians post October 7, Halahmy says: “What I felt the young people were saying was: ‘I want peace; I want to get on with my life.’ It’s this that gives me the strength to write the book and present it when I go out. In this book the only real message is peace. The book starts with peace and ends with peace.”

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Pomegranates for Peace is published by ZunTold on November 20, World Children’s Day