For the first time in Israel, a full-length concert of the works of 19th-century German composer Richard Wagner was scheduled to take place in mid-June. Not a short piece played as part of an encore, not part of a piece once featured in a film, but rather a simple and straightforward performance of Wagner's best works. The event was to be funded entirely by private donations, so that no one could accuse any public body of using tax money to foot the bill for such a controversial event. The concert was canceled due to objections over Wagner's explicitly anti-Semitic views. If my father were alive, he would have been outraged. I don't know whether he would have held up a protest sign outside the event hall, because he never participated in demonstrations, but he would never have agreed to such a concert taking place. He was not a Holocaust survivor he had come to Palestine long before the Holocaust happened but most of his family had been killed by the Nazis. He refused to travel to Germany; he never uttered a word of German even though he was fluent in it; he avoided buying any product made in Germany. To my father, Wagner's music was repulsive. I didn't think that the proper way to avenge the Nazis for what they did to us was to boycott the new Germany that was built on the ruins of Hitler's deranged regime. I have purchased German-made products, and I love Wagner's music. Though it can be a bit bombastic at times, it is nonetheless remarkable and clearly composed by a genius. I wish I could believe that the monster was confined within the boundaries of Germany, and that boycotting Germany could permanently prevent it from ever rearing its head again, but I don't. I think it is naive to believe that. It is too easy. Wagner was one of modern history's biggest anti-Semites. He didn't just hate Jews, he systematically worked at it and wrote about it, especially in his chilling essay "Judaism in Music," published in 1850. Wagner viewed the influence of Jews on German culture as a catastrophe. Hitler was inspired by him, and his music often accompanied Jews to their deaths at the hands of Nazis. That is why many Holocaust survivors but not just them get chills when they hear his operas and vehemently oppose concerts showcasing his work. I wouldn't take their objection too lightly. The problem isn't funding; the question is whether such a concert should be held while there are still people among us for whom Wagner's music evokes such strong emotions. On one hand, the objection is not one that can be lightly dismissed, and on the other, anyone who likes Wagner can consume his music not only abroad but also through the countless television music channels, CDs and radio. I am not taking an ideological, moral stand against those who would insist on staging this concert. My objection is emotional: I feel that going ahead with this concert would be an unnecessary act of defiance. Those who play Wagner in Tel Aviv aren't contributing to freedom of expression or universal values or to individual rights. They are only doing something that could annoy good people, even if they don't believe the objection is justified. This concert can be postponed 20 years. There's no rush.