A Blind Spot I Have Begun to Notice
Recently, during a Brookline, Massachusetts Town Meeting debate about commemorating Brookline residents who were killed on September 11, a speaker warned about the dangers of Islamophobia.
I agreed with him. After 9/11, many innocent Muslim Americans experienced suspicion, hostility, and discrimination. A decent society should oppose that. I witnessed some of that prejudice firsthand when a Muslim colleague with whom I had worked for years was falsely accused of threatening violence. He ultimately cleared his name, but only after spending time in jail and incurring enormous legal and personal costs. Experiences like his make it impossible for me to dismiss concerns about Islamophobia.
Yet as I listened, I found myself wondering why the ideology that motivated the attacks received so little attention.
Nearly 3,000 people were murdered on September 11 in a terrorist attack that shattered America’s sense of security and changed the course of the nation for decades. The omission struck me because I have begun to notice a similar pattern in public discussions.
Moreover, we rarely acknowledge the attacks that never occurred because law enforcement and intelligence agencies spent decades focused on preventing them. Millions of Americans have lived their lives in relative safety because thousands of people in law enforcement, intelligence, and national security made preventing such attacks their daily mission. That outcome was not inevitable.
Again and again, I hear thoughtful people speak eloquently about prejudice against Muslims. I hear far less discussion of Islamist extremism.
This pattern became more visible to me after October 7.
Many people, including myself, rightly condemned anti-Muslim prejudice and expressed concern for Palestinian civilians. Many people on the left came to view the world through the lens of power, oppression, minority rights, and historical injustice. Yet I was struck by how often discussions focused on Israel’s actions while giving comparatively little attention to Hamas’s ideology, its open embrace of terrorism, or its demonization of Jews.
That distinction matters. When Hamas describes Jews as inherently evil, it is doing more than express prejudice; it is engaging in demonization. Racism says a people are inferior. Demonization says a people are evil.
I cannot hear such language without thinking about where similar ideas have led in the past, because history teaches that when Jews are portrayed as evil, almost any act against them can be justified.
That framework has helped expose genuine wrongs.
But every framework illuminates some things and obscures others.
My concern is that this framework can sometimes make it harder to recognize the dangers posed by extremist ideologies and the distinctive character of antisemitism.
Racism, Islamophobia, antisemitism, homophobia, and other forms of prejudice are often discussed as manifestations of the same phenomenon. There is truth in that perspective. Yet antisemitism has historically operated somewhat differently from other forms of prejudice.
Throughout history, Jews have not merely been portrayed as inferior. They have been portrayed as Christ-killers, poisoners of wells, secret manipulators of governments and finance, racial contaminants, and uniquely evil enemies of humanity. The accusations change from era to era, but the pattern remains.
Historically, antisemitism rarely remained static. It repeatedly reinvented itself, attaching Jews to whatever each era considered most dangerous, corrupt, or evil. Today, in some circles, hostility toward Jews increasingly expresses itself through hostility toward Zionism.
This does not mean that every criticism of Zionism is antisemitic. Nor does it mean that every critic of Israel hates Jews.
But when the world’s only Jewish state is singled out for standards not applied to any other nation, when Jewish self-determination alone is treated as illegitimate, or when Jews are held collectively responsible for the actions of Israel, it becomes difficult to ignore the possibility that something older is at work.
Many people hear a debate about nationalism, colonialism, or human rights. Many Jews hear a challenge to the legitimacy of the one place in the world where Jewish self-determination exists.
Recently, I listened to an interview with former National Security Adviser Jake Sullivan, and I found aspects of his perspective unsettling. What struck me was not his discussion of Iran. He readily acknowledged Iran’s support for terrorism, its proxy organizations, and the challenges it poses to American interests.
What struck me instead was the uncertainty surrounding Israel.
When asked about the future of the US-Israel relationship, Sullivan described an ongoing debate within the Democratic Party over Israel’s role and America’s relationship with it. He repeatedly returned to concerns about the direction of Israeli democracy and the nature of Israel’s current government.
Those concerns are legitimate. Democracies should be examined critically, and Israelis themselves engage in fierce debates about their country’s future. Yet I found myself wondering why similar concerns are so rarely raised about other democratic allies.
American democracy has endured enormous strains in recent years. The United States experienced disputed elections, political violence, intense polarization, and attacks on public institutions. Across Europe, democratic societies have wrestled with populism, polarization, and challenges to longstanding democratic norms.
Yet few people suggest that America’s democratic character should cause allies to fundamentally reconsider their relationship with the United States. Nor do they routinely question whether other democracies remain worthy partners because of internal political controversies.
Israel often seems to occupy a different category.
Critics are free to oppose Benjamin Netanyahu, just as Americans may oppose Donald Trump, Joe Biden, or any other leader. But there is a tendency in some progressive circles to move from criticism of a particular Israeli government to questioning the character of Israel itself.
That distinction matters. A democracy should not lose its standing as a democratic ally every time its voters elect a government that others dislike.
The pattern appears often enough that another recent example comes readily to mind.
Recently, congressional candidate Adam Hamawy received support from prominent progressive figures despite having testified on behalf of Omar Abdel-Rahman, the so-called Blind Sheikh, who was convicted of seditious conspiracy and whose followers carried out the 1993 World Trade Center bombing.
Reasonable people may disagree about what significance should be attached to Hamawy’s actions decades ago. What surprised me was how little discussion the issue generated.
Would people have remained largely silent if a candidate had testified on behalf of a figure associated with white supremacist terrorism?
Perhaps I am wrong. But it feels like another example of a pattern I have begun to notice.
To be clear, I am not arguing that Islamophobia is unimportant, that Israel should be beyond criticism, or that all progressives think alike. I am suggesting that some voices on the left have developed a sophisticated vocabulary for discussing prejudice against Muslims while developing a much weaker vocabulary for discussing Islamist extremism and the distinctive nature of antisemitism.
Every political movement has blind spots.
Conservatives have them.
Those on the left have them.
The blind spot I increasingly notice in certain progressive circles is a tendency to underestimate the power of extremist ideologies and to misunderstand the unique ways antisemitism has operated throughout history.
America should reject both Islamophobia and Islamist extremism. It should oppose prejudice against Muslims and against Jews, and it should care about Palestinian civilians and Israeli civilians. The challenge is that in our understandable desire to avoid prejudice, we must not lose sight of the ideologies that continue to threaten free societies, democratic allies, and minority communities.
Recognizing that danger is not Islamophobia.
It is realism.

