Let us be clear from the start. It is acceptable — good, even — to criticize Israel’s political leaders and their policies, proposed or enacted — as it is a virtue in any open society to discuss policy and societal goals, especially in a democracy. Indeed, I’m not certain I’ve ever heard anyone claim that Israel is perfect. In my experience, everyone I’ve met in Israel or elsewhere, Jewish or not, has, when the topic of Israel and its governance come up, had something to say. This dialogue is to be encouraged.
“Antisemitism is not about Jews. It is about anti-Semites. It is about people who cannot accept responsibility for their own failures and have instead to blame someone else.”
— Rabbi Jonathan Sacks
It is, of course, acceptable to criticize the behavior or actions of individuals or even of groups of individuals, so long as there is a rational, reasonable basis to do so. We must, however, do this based on facts rather than feelings. Though, when it veers into antisemitic rhetoric, grounded in hate rather than in facts, that it crosses the line into unacceptability.
Being Jewish doesn’t shield one from legitimate criticism, but it also shouldn’t invite unreasonable, counterfactual, hate-filled criticism either. To be able to determine the line where legitimate criticism crosses over into hate speech which perpetuates harmful stereotypes against the Jewish people, we need to take a closer look at antisemitism.
What Antisemitism Means
Antisemitism, sometimes referred to as “the longest hatred,” has persisted for millennia. Throughout the ages it has evolved to reflect the social, cultural, and political contexts in which it manifests. It is hard to engage, in a meaningful way, with something without having a common definition or understanding of the particular concept. The term “antisemitism” is bandied about with alarming frequency, and yet most people couldn’t articulate exactly what it signifies — other than prejudice toward or hatred of Jews — nor would they be able to place it in context.
First, let’s consider whether it is more correct to say “antisemitism” or “anti-Semitism.” If you’ve read the text this far — you can infer upon which side of that debate I fall.
The term itself is attributed to the work of Wilhelm Marr, a German political agitator, so-called journalist, and the founder of the League of Anti-Semites. It is believed that it first appeared in 1879, in a pamphlet entitled “Der Weg zum Siege des Germanenthums über das Judenthum” (which translates to “The Way to Victory of Germanism over Judaism”). Marr sought to develop a pseudo-scientific justification for his anti-Jewish ideology through the framing of it as a racial rather than religious issue.
The term “Semite” purportedly refers to a group of semitic languages (a grouping that includes: Hebrew, Arabic, Aramaic, Amharic, Tigrinya, Akkadian, Phoenician, and Ugaritic), and is not a racial term. It is clear, then, that when we say something is antisemitic, we are not saying it is against the speakers of Aramaic or any other language — not even speakers of Hebrew. Rather, this term refers exclusively to the hatred of or discrimination against Jewish people and the institutions that are synonymous with those people.
The hyphen within the term “Anti-Semitism” does an injustice by adhering to the ideology of Marr and his ilk. So, “antisemitism” is the more correct term in our modern parlance.
Before the term antisemitism gained popularity, people discussed this with a bit more accuracy and less subterfuge. Terms like “Jew Hate” (in whatever language) were commonplace — when it was discussed at all, which wasn’t often.
Let us look then to the world’s most recognized experts on this topic, the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance (IHRA) — an intergovernmental organization with participation of more than forty countries. The IHRA defines antisemitism as:
Antisemitism is a certain perception of Jews, which may be expressed as hatred toward Jews. Rhetorical and physical manifestations of antisemitism are directed toward Jewish or non-Jewish individuals and/or their property, toward Jewish community institutions and religious facilities.
This makes sense for most things. We, intuitively, understand it. Now then, we must figure out where the line between criticizing Israel and the policies of its government is drawn between that legitimate criticism and antisemitism.
To do so, we need a framework with which to examine a set of facts to determine on which side of the line it falls. So, let’s look at a widely-accepted methodology to do exactly that. Namely, the so-called “3D Test” developed by human rights activist and Israeli politician Natan Sharansky:
Demonization. When the Jewish state is being demonized; when Israel’s actions are blown out of all sensible proportion; when comparisons are made between Israelis and Nazis and between Palestinian refugee camps and Auschwitz — this is antisemitism, not legitimate criticism of Israel.
Double Standards. When criticism of Israel is applied selectively; when Israel is singled out by the United Nations for human rights abuses while the behavior of known and major abusers, such as China, Iran, Cuba, and Syria, is ignored; when Israel’s Magen David Adom, alone among the world’s ambulance services, is denied admission to the International Red Cross — this is antisemitism.
Delegitimization. When Israel’s fundamental right to exist is denied — alone among all the peoples in the world — this too is antisemitism.
Sharansky’s 3D Test boils down to the basic question of: is the writer or speaker substituting “Israel” or “Zionist” for “Jew” in their mind, especially when it relies on double standards or antisemitic tropes.
Beyond the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance’s definition—and, to a lesser extent, Sharansky’s 3D test — we should recognize that antisemitism often includes dehumanizing stereotypes.
Antisemitism often tries to collectively hold individual Jews, regardless of citizenship or where they live, accountable for the actions of the Jewish state. Antisemitism, then, at its base is the real-world implication for conspiracy theories about Jews. It relies on ancient libels and cognitive dissonance. Like any conspiracy theory, the only way to fight it is to educate ourselves.
Antisemitism feeds on ignorance and fear. To start countering this ignorance, we need to really understand the object of its fury.
Who is a Jew
The discussion of what, precisely, makes someone Jewish has been debated for millennia. Is it a religion? An ethnicity? What race are Jews? How does one become a Jew?
The answers to these questions vary depending on context and the degree of orthodoxy of the person you ask. But folks harboring antisemitic hatred are an inclusive bunch. Indeed, people who were born to a Jewish parent or who converted to Judaism or who, to the antisemitic attacker, meet some preconceived notion of what they believe a Jew to be or look like.
Judaism itself is an ethno-religion. Similar to Sikhism, Hinduism, Shinto, and the spiritual practices of the indigenous peoples of America. We often think of these groups as having a particular ethnic identity and cultural traditions and are often concentrated in specific geographic areas.
If one looks at the demographic makeup of Israel, one can see the majority of people there would identify as non-White. In much of Europe and in North America, we are used to seeing Jewish people with an Ashkenazic background who, generally, appear White. However, it would be incorrect to say Jews are White or even that most Jews are White. Some Jews might be White. Some might be White-passing. But, throughout history, Jews have never, as a class, been the recipient of what we now call “White Privilege.” Jews have always been “Othered.”
Jews, then, are mostly bound by common ancestry and are parties to two “covenants” — through both Abraham and Moses with God. There is much ado about scripture calling the Jews the “chosen” people. Which has led to some unfortunate interpretations.
Jews are not chosen to be better or because they are better. Jews are not chosen because they are worse than anyone else. Simply, they chose to put themselves under the jurisdiction of God’s law. If you want to join that — contact your local rabbi. If you’re rational and don’t want to abide by more than six hundred extra rules, be glad you’re not. Is it an honor? Yes. Does it seem to place a target on you? Yes. Would it be more enjoyable to live without an association to it? For most people, also yes.
It is possible to be a Jew and never step foot in a synagogue. It is possible to go to a synagogue every week and not be a Jew. Expressions of Jewish faith or living Jewishly don’t make a person — though, certainly, they can shape the life, experience, and character of a person. Yet, many people project all sorts of things onto someone, based solely on their perceived Jewishness or some association thereof.
As a society, we have rightfully denounced racism, sexism, and homophobia, among others. Yet, antisemitism persists through all levels of society. We have, by and large, rejected the malignant influence of the KKK. Why then do we continue to countenance the rhetoric of the Nazis? Antisemitism has infected nearly all levels of society and public discourse. Clearly, these projections and prejudices are not grounded in fact, and yet they persist, as they have done for most of recorded history.
The Long History of Jew Hate
Antisemitism clearly has a long history — extending well beyond the borders of the Middle East. As we discussed earlier, ancient Egyptian and Roman societies cast the Jew as “other” because of their religious and cultural practices. Hostilities emerged between those societies and the Jews based on this othering — in essence, “they act differently so we don’t like them” is a common mindset. The hostilities of that time and place lacked the ideological depth we encounter later in history.
In the early Christian church and with the rise of Christianity, antisemitism took on a new cloak. Jews, demonized as “Christ-killers,” were accused baselessly of sacrilegious acts — like the infamous blood-libel, wherein Jews use Christian blood for religious rituals. Something that should seem nonsensical on its face. First, Jews predate Christians. Second, Christ was a Jew. How anyone could reconcile those two facts and then believe the blood-libel is beyond comprehension.
During the crusades, Jews were forced en masse to convert or were simply massacred for noncompliance. The Spanish Inquisition brought on a new state- and church-sponsored layer of this for Sephardi Jews in particular. If they refused to convert and hadn’t fled in exile — or if they practiced Judaism in secret — they faced execution.
A few centuries after Christianity was founded, Islam came into being. This added a further layer of religiously-fueled hatred to the antisemitism bonfire. Jews were tolerated — barely, and at times not at all — in the Muslim world. As we discussed previously, they were given a status (dhimmi) below that of citizen and allowed to live, so long as they were willing to pay onerous taxes, lead a restricted life, and generally not do anything to call attention to themselves.
These attitudes and the successive lies that fueled them have, throughout history, been used to justify violence against Jews and, often, the misappropriation of what meagre assets they were allowed to build. Nearly since the very beginning, Jewish People have had a history of exile and return, they have had to deal with being under the pressures of spiteful rulers — rulers that wanted them to assimilate fully, or to sequester themselves. Rulers that wanted them to succeed, or to fail. Rulers that used them as scapegoats.
Libels, Classic and Modern
There are a number of pernicious ideas that keep resurfacing — though often in new, updated forms — regarding Jews. Interestingly, they often contain incompatible elements (such as calling the Jew subhuman while simultaneously claiming they’re a powerful demon). While not grounded in either logic nor in facts, these ideas have taken hold throughout the ages. This list is not meant to be all-inclusive. On the contrary, this is just the tip of the iceberg. I include them to ensure you’re both aware and that you can consider the elements within that cause logical thought to reject the premise.
From the early years of the Christian church, Jews have been condemned for rejecting Jesus’ teachings, despite their familiarity with his words and proximity to him. Even more gravely, some Christians have accused Jews of deicide (specifically of killing the Christian messiah), holding Jews collectively responsible for Jesus’ death. This belief is tied to related doctrines, such as the idea that Jews exist in a degraded state to serve as a witness to Christianity’s moral superiority and to foreshadow its ultimate triumph at the end of days.
The deicide myth has further fueled stereotypes associating Jews with traits like sinister powers, stubbornness, and conspiratorial treachery. Similarly, though not a deicide myth, some Islamic texts accuse “the Jews” of plotting to poison Mohammed. In modern times, hostility toward Jews often takes the form of these persistent stereotypes, portraying them as inherently malevolent, powerful, and deceitful.
Since the Gospel of John — and particularly from the fourth century onward — prominent figures in Christian theology have demonized Jews. Throughout the Middle Ages, Jews were frequently labeled as “children of the devil,” often depicted with horns, bulging eyes, and other physical traits meant to evoke satanic qualities like arrogance and deceptive reasoning. Similar portrayals later appear in Muslim texts.
Today, these stereotypes persist in modern representations, portraying Jews, either as individuals or as a group, as inherently malevolent. This is evident in caricatures of Jewish and Israeli public figures, where they are depicted as devils or demons.
Since ancient times, Jews have been falsely accused of the ritual slaughter of gentiles, a slander that has evolved across different eras and regions. For example, in Hellenistic Egypt, such accusations were sometimes accompanied by claims of cannibalism and, during the Middle Ages in Europe, Jews were accused of using the blood of non-Jews to bake matzah for Passover. These baseless allegations often sparked violent anti-Jewish pogroms. Remnants of these blood libels persist today. Jews, particularly in Israel, are sometimes accused of killing gentile children for military, political, or genocidal purposes — one such claim is that Israelis abduct Palestinian children at night, murder them, and sell their organs for profit. Despite being thoroughly discredited, variations of these child-murder myths remain alarmingly widespread in certain parts of the world.
As we discussed earlier, for centuries, Jews have faced accusations of host desecration — defiling sacred objects, specifically the eucharist. Beginning in the Middle Ages, Christians propagated the false claim that Jews reenacted the crucifixion of Jesus by desecrating the consecrated host wafer, which symbolizes the body and blood of Christ.
Subsequently, Jews have been repeatedly accused of conspiring to violate holy sites and objects. In modern times, this narrative persists through allegations that Israelis are plotting to destroy the Dome of the Rock in Jerusalem or other sacred sites. Similarly, during the medieval and early modern periods, European Christians accused Jews of poisoning communal wells. These well-poisoning claims were often tied to notions of Jews possessing demonic traits or acting with the assistance of the devil. In Poland, these accusations continued well into the 1920s. Even today, Jews and Israelis can face accusations of contaminating communal resources, such as water supplies or blood banks.
Global conspiracy theories trace their origins to the New Testament’s portrayal of the Sanhedrin as responsible for the arrest of Jesus and proliferated throughout the medieval period. In modern iterations, these conspiracies claim that Jews or Zionists form a hidden, global network manipulating governments, banks, media, and other institutions for harmful purposes, allegedly eroding societal values.
This myth of a global Jewish conspiracy often surfaces in claims about Jewish over-representation in industries — such as law, entertainment, finance, et cetera. It is also reflected in discussions of a so-called “Jewish lobby,” which frames Jewish influence as disproportionately powerful.
Additionally, such conspiracies blame Jews or Israel for major global events, with some alleging Jewish responsibility for all modern wars and for tragedies like the September 11, 2001 attacks.
Starting with Saint Augustine, Christian theologians portrayed Jews as a cursed people, condemned to wander the earth in misery until the end of days, serving as living proof of their own sinfulness and the supremacy of Christianity. This concept evolved into the figure of the Wandering Jew, a central character in Christian folklore that gained widespread traction in Europe through the Ahasver legend beginning in the 13th century.
In its traditional form, the tale describes a Jew who mocked Jesus on his way to the Crucifixion, only to be cursed to roam the earth until the end of time. In some versions of the legend, the curse also condemns the Jew to remain spiritually corrupted, reflecting punishment not only for mocking Jesus but for persecuting him, participating in his crucifixion, and rejecting him as the Messiah.
Though rooted in medieval folklore, the echoes of the myth continue to reverberate today. It emerges in various attempts to portray Jews as inherently degraded or alien. For instance, this narrative underpins some of the efforts to delegitimize Israel and it surfaces in incidents like “kick-a-Jew” or “hit-a-Jew” events that, despite official condemnation, have occasionally occurred in some American schools.
Throughout history, Jews have been derogatorily compared to both domesticated and wild animals — something called bestialization. Ancient Christian texts, for instance, likened Jews to pigs, goats, and cows. During medieval Europe, these degrading comparisons intensified, with Jews often being associated with pigs or depicted in grotesque ways involving intimate interactions with them. The term “Judensau”—referring to obscene interactions between Jews and female pigs — originated in 13th-century Germany and remained prevalent across Europe for centuries.
Even in modern times, variations of Judensau appear in political cartoons, where pigs are depicted alongside Jewish imagery or symbols like the Star of David. Similarly, in Islamic texts, Jews have historically been compared to apes and pigs. This dehumanizing rhetoric continues today, with Jews and Israelis frequently portrayed as various barnyard animals, insects, or other creatures in media and political discourse. These portrayals serve to vilify and dehumanize Jewish people, reinforcing harmful stereotypes that persist across different cultural and historical contexts.
Jews have long been portrayed, both literally and metaphorically, as carriers of physical defects, deformities, or diseases, often linked with ugliness, weakness, filth, and excrement. The slur “dirty Jew” has been a staple of antisemitic rhetoric, alongside stereotypes of a “Jewish odor,” which were once widely accepted. At times, Jews were banned from swimming pools and other facilities for purported hygienic reasons — such as during cholera and typhus outbreaks in Germany in the late 1900s.
White supremacists frequently depict Jews as having inferior, nonwhite racial traits. At the same time the opposite conclusion is reached by many for their own ends: namely, Jewish identity is often framed through a different lens, sometimes associated with a distorted notion of white racial superiority and linked to accusations of racism or colonialism.
Modern antisemitic and anti-Israeli cartoons continue to emphasize exaggerated physical traits, such as hooked noses and other stereotypes, reinforcing the idea of ugliness. Additionally, the insult “dirty Zionist” has emerged as a contemporary variation of “dirty Jew.”
Since at least the fourth century, Christians have associated Jews with traits rooted in carnality, attributing qualities such as lechery, greed, stinginess, and a lack of spiritual depth. This perception is reflected linguistically in the derogatory use of “Jew” as a verb to signify unscrupulous business practices. In modern times, carnal stereotypes manifest in actions like throwing coins at Jewish children, a cruel reinforcement of these biases.
Another iteration of this stereotype emerges in the image of the “Jewish American Princess” (or “JAP”), often characterized as shallow, entitled, selfish, and materialistic. The irrationality of antisemitic prejudice also reveals itself in conflicting portrayals: Jewish men, sometimes disparagingly called “Jew boys,” are depicted as both sexually voracious and effeminate, while Jewish women are portrayed as simultaneously sexually repressive and insatiable.
Since medieval times, Jewish communities have often been portrayed as wealthy, powerful, and threatening entities, driven by greed at the expense of others. These depictions frequently align Jews with figures like Mammon, the deity of wealth, and Moloch, the Ammonite god linked to human sacrifice. Such stereotypes perpetuate negative traits attributed to Jews, including malevolence, criminality, greed, stinginess, and deceit.
Scapegoating — a term originating from an ancient Jewish ritual where a goat was symbolically burdened with the sins of the community and then sent into the wilderness, carrying away their guilt — evolved into a metaphor for blaming an individual or group for societal problems, regardless of their actual culpability. Jews have frequently been cast as scapegoats throughout history.
As we have discussed, Jews have long been subjected to accusations during times of crisis, such as plagues, economic downturns, or political instability. These unfounded claims — ranging from blood libel myths to being blamed for economic collapse — grew as they were both fueled by antisemitism and as they fueled further widespread antisemitism.
We can see echos of these in modern forms, like dual loyalty. Jews are often accused of being more loyal to Israel than to whatever nation in which they live. It’s cast as an aspersion that is unique to Jews — even though we all have divided loyalties. Harold Kushner puts it like this:
But at a more complex level, I would plead guilty to the charge of having multiple loyalties. Indeed, I would claim that it is a poor person who has only one cause to be loyal to. We all have many loyalties — to our families, to our faith, to our job, as well as to our country — and sometimes those loyalties come into conflict. A farmer may urge his congressman to support higher prices for food, a Detroit autoworker or Cleveland steelworker may urge Washington to protect his company against cheaper prices from foreign competitors, even though that will result in food and cars costing more. I am sure that the fundamentalist Christian who says, “I don’t care what the Supreme Court says; I’m going to insist on prayer in the public school classroom,” doesn’t think of himself as putting the interests of his religion above the interests of the United States as a whole. And it should never occur to us that we are less than loyal Americans when we urge our government to support Israel as a beleaguered outpost of democracy and a loyal friend.
Accusations of dual loyalty have long been used to alienate Jews from national life — even as the same thoughts and behaviors from other groups are tolerated and encouraged.
Denial and Inversion
Holocaust denial embodies a similar narrative, framing the genocide of European Jews as a fabricated scheme to exploit humanity. Likewise, antisemitism denial follows this pattern by dismissing the resurgence of anti-Jewish sentiment as a global Jewish conspiracy aimed at legitimizing alleged Israeli misconduct. Holocaust inversion, another related phenomenon, equates Jews with Nazis. They all twist history to fuel hatred and justify prejudice. These are deliberate distortions designed to delegitimize Jewish suffering and keep age-old stereotypes alive.
Holocaust denial dismisses the genocide of six million Jews as a hoax — claiming the death toll was inflated, gas chambers were never used, or the Holocaust itself was fabricated to win sympathy and financial gain. Some go further, framing it as wartime propaganda to prop up Zionism, not expose Nazism. At its core, denial pushes a toxic narrative: Jews control the media, manipulate governments, and rewrite history to their advantage.
Antisemitism denial works differently, but it’s no less insidious. It downplays the rise of anti-Jewish hate, reframing it as overreaction or paranoia. Worse, it suggests Jews bring the hate upon themselves — especially by tying criticism of Israel to claims of antisemitism. When Jewish communities call out hatred, they’re accused of trying to silence debate or weaponize antisemitism for political gain. This shifts the blame away from perpetrators and paints Jews as manipulators, once again.
Then there’s Holocaust inversion. Going beyond mere denial, the peddlers of this flip the facts entirely: Jews, the victims of genocide, are now cast as oppressors — Israel becomes Nazi Germany, and Jews become “Zionazis” or “Jew-Nazis.” Comparisons between Israel and apartheid-era South Africa can easily slip into antisemitism as the bigots suggest Jewish self-determination is inherently racist. These narratives feed off stereotypes that have endured for centuries. From Shakespeare’s Shylock to modern caricatures of leaders like Benjamin Netanyahu, Jews are painted as greedy, sinister, and powerful. This framing isn’t accidental; it reinforces the idea that Jews are always scheming, always in control. The same old lie in a new disguise.
Holocaust inversion and denial, as well as antisemitism denial, are exceedingly dangerous. They gaslight. They distort memory. They dismiss real threats. They allow hate to fester under the surface. These narratives make it harder to fight antisemitism by muddying the waters, casting doubt, and shifting blame. To confront them is to protect truth itself—and ensure that history isn’t rewritten by those who wish to erase it.
Antisemitism Today
Today, antisemitism is prevalent across the political spectrum. Right-wing antisemitism often portrays Jews as a shadowy elite controlling the economy, media, or political institutions. This rhetoric mirrors classic conspiracies — such as those from the so-called “Protocols of the Elders of Zion”, a fabricated text suggesting a Jewish plot for world domination. Left-wing antisemitism emerges primarily in political critiques of Israel, where anti-Zionist rhetoric, itself antisemitic, sometimes drops its mask and brazenly peddles antisemitic tropes. For a quick example, though we’ll get into this more in the next chapter, equating Israeli policies with Nazi actions not only demonizes Israel but also trivializes the Holocaust. The IHRA warns that applying double standards to Israel — such as holding it to higher moral expectations than other nations — constitutes antisemitism when it delegitimizes the state or denies the Jewish people’s right to self-determination.
These manifestations are shared through the media, in universities, and by public figures. Uncritical reporting and poorly framed debates frequently perpetuate stereotypes and fuel misunderstandings. Both public figures and everyday people have turned social media platforms into breeding grounds for antisemitism, with algorithms favoring sensational content that includes hate speech. QAnon and other modern conspiracy theories repurpose old antisemitic tropes, depicting Jews as part of global cabals controlling politics and finance. Jewish public figures often face targeted harassment campaigns that cross the line from legitimate political grievances into antisemitism through the use of classic stereotypes.
Finding The Line
Distinguishing legitimate criticism of Israel from antisemitism can seem challenging, but it’s essential — and easy. The IHRA definition and the 3D Test provide helpful guidance by outlining when criticism of Israel may cross into antisemitic territory. Accordingly, it is not antisemitic to criticize specific actions or policies of the Israeli government, such as settlement practices or military operations.
However, the line is crossed when criticism relies on classic antisemitic tropes or unfairly holds Israel to standards not expected of other nations. For example, it becomes antisemitic when critiques of Israel invoke conspiracy theories about Jewish control over governments or financial systems, echoing long-standing stereotypes. Similarly, comparing Israeli policies to those of the Nazis not only distorts history but also weaponizes Jewish suffering, a tactic that falls squarely within the IHRA’s framework of antisemitism. Likewise, denying Israel’s right to exist as a Jewish state — is as an attack on Jewish self-determination, which the IHRA identifies as antisemitic.
Navigating this boundary need not be difficult. Political discourse should allow space for robust debate on Israeli policies, but it must avoid veering into language or arguments that reflect hatred toward Jews as a people. Holding Israel accountable is fair, just as it is with any other state, but framing all Jews as responsible for the actions of the Israeli government is not. This distinction is especially important in today’s political climate, where discussions about Israel and Palestine are highly emotional and politically polarized — leaving little room for fact and nuance.