Sometimes, the Labour antisemitism controversy can seem convoluted and parochial. Yet the questions it raises are of fundamental importance in diverse societies: who do you listen to when you seek to listen to minorities? And who gets the last word?

In the latest twist, British Jewry’s main representative body, the Board of Deputies, asked all leadership and deputy leadership candidates to sign up to 10 pledges for actions that it claims would help end the crisis. Some of the pledges concern procedural matters (such as “Ensure transparency” and “prevent readmittance of prominent offenders”), others with communication (“Show leadership and take responsibility”).

But what has proved most difficult for some on the left to swallow are the pledges to “Deliver an anti-racism education programme that has the buy-in of the Jewish community” (with the Jewish Labour Movement, still the party’s only official Jewish affiliate, to lead it) and ensure that “Engagement with the Jewish community is to be made via its main representative groups” (including the Board). Those pledges are not-so-subtle allusions to the likes of Jewish Voice for Labour, secular anti-Zionist Jews who pushed back against allegations of antisemitism in the party and became the Jewish groups favoured by many Corbynites.

What’s now required is a change in attitude both from those who seek to represent minorities and from political parties and government

The call to give organisations like the Board the leading role in working with the party against antisemitism has outraged some activists. While all the leadership candidates have signed up to the pledges, Rebecca Long-Bailey has been heavily criticised by some leftwing activists for doing so. Meanwhile, two leftwing candidates for the deputy leadership, Richard Burgon and Dawn Butler, have refused to sign up. Explaining his decision, Burgon said: “I’m concerned that the minorities within a minority, whether it be LGBT Jewish people, black Jewish people, Jewish people who are religious minority within that minority, their voices need to be heard as well.”

So how should those voices be heard? The principle of giving minority representative groups a voice in political deliberations should not be controversial. After all, governments and political parties need to communicate with those who are impacted by their policies. But however reasonable that might be, the reality has become hellishly complicated. “Community leaders” may lead only a fraction of their communities; minority “representative” bodies aren’t always as representative as they like to appear.

While the Board of Deputies does better than most, as it has the buy-in of organisations that do represent the majority of British Jews, not everyone is inside the tent. Although you might expect its biggest critics to be Jews on the left, its latest plenary was picketed by a faction of furious Jewish pro-Israel campaigners.

Yet if you acknowledge that there are a plurality of voices within minorities, it becomes all too easy to select the voices that are politically congenial and to exclude the rest. Despite Burgon’s apparent respect for Jewish plurality, I doubt that he would treat all forms of Jewish diversity equally. Does he seek to hear the voice of British religious Zionists who are strong supporters of settlements in the West Bank?

There are questions, too, about the limits of the demands made by groups representing minorities. I am sympathetic to most of the 10 pledges and recognise that the Board is in the best position to make them on behalf of the majority of British Jews. But is it realistic for the Board to expect such complete buy-in to a Jewish communal agenda, however widely supported it might be in the community? Can the Board, or any other minority representative body, live with those situations where its policy concerns are not shared by government or political parties?

There was a time when Jews or other minorities related to public bodies as supplicants, grateful for anything they could get. But the reversal of such limited expectations today causes its own problems. In today’s politics of diversity there is often a mutual yearning. Minority groups seek public bodies with whom they can have a symbiotically sympathetic relationship; those public bodies, in turn, seek sympathetic minority organisations in whose unwavering support they can bask. The Labour antisemitism controversy has shown in brutal fashion how this vision of a mutual love-in is a fantasy. The demands of different minorities cannot always be reconciled, and minorities within minorities may also have irreconcilable agendas.

What’s now required is a change in attitude both from those who seek to represent minorities and from political parties and government. A wary pragmatism all round will ensure that no one expects too much.

So what does that mean for the Board, at a time when antisemitism in the Labour party has compelled it to make unprecedented interventions? It should certainly expect Labour and other parties to acknowledge its position as the most representative of all British Jewish bodies. But while its 10 pledges do indeed provide a workable roadmap out of the antisemitism crisis, it shouldn’t expect much beyond that: the organisation ought to be wary of every party and politician, even the ones who appear to be “friends”.

On the other side, the next Labour leader needs to relate to Jews and other minorities respectfully, without exploiting their insecurity to seek their love. Decisive action against antisemitism is essential, for the party’s own sake as much as the Jewish community’s. And while the next leader should listen to a wide range of Jewish voices, they must give particular weight to those bodies that enjoy the support of the largest proportion of Jews.

• Keith Kahn-Harris is the author of Strange Hate: Antisemitism, Racism and the Limits of Diversity