A Rare Display of Solidarity with the Jewish People
The Federalist Society is a very influential American organization composed of conservative and libertarian lawyers. At its recent National Lawyers Convention, something rare happened in American public life: a large, influential institution took an unambiguous, morally serious stand against the wave of antisemitism engulfing the country.
The lengthy plenary session—featuring Senator Ted Cruz and ten judges, most of them not Jewish—was the clearest, most forceful public repudiation of antisemitism I have heard since October 7. At a moment when many organizations have hedged, equivocated, or even sided with the antisemites, the Federalist Society chose moral clarity.
The panel opened with Cruz denouncing right-wing antisemitism by name, including calling out Tucker Carlson. From there, nine federal judges and one state supreme court justice, many of whom had recently visited Israel with the World Jewish Congress, spoke candidly about the moral stakes of the moment. Judge Amul Thapar offered a powerful defense of Israel’s struggle against Hamas, Hezbollah, and Iran’s proxy network. Judge Elizabeth Branch delivered a moving comment: “My mom reminded me that I have always stood behind my Jewish friends. I have decided that now is the time to stand in front of them.”
Catholics, Jews, Mormons, evangelicals, and mainline Protestants alike spoke with a unity of purpose I have not seen anywhere else in American civic or professional life since the 10/7 massacre. Their message to the next generation of lawyers was unmistakable: if you align yourself with antisemites—whether the Groypers on the right or the campus activists who support Hamas—do not expect clerkships or opportunities within the Society’s network. Antisemitism, in any form, is unwelcome.
To understand how striking that moment was, it helps to recall the context.
The past decade has been a punishing one for American Jews. Beginning in 2015, Donald Trump’s populist rise energized a segment of the online right convinced that his presidency would dismantle what they imagined to be “Jewish control” of the country. The same year, the ascent of Bernie Sanders accelerated the spread of a form of left-wing “anti-Zionism” that often blurred into hostility toward mainstream Jewish organizations and Jews more generally. The Women’s March antisemitism scandal and the campaign to delegitimize the Anti-Defamation League were early warning signs.
Then came the Pittsburgh synagogue massacre, antisemitic murders in New York, and a wave of violence and harassment of visibly Jewish pedestrians in New York City. By 2020, surveys showed antisemitic attitudes rising for the first time since the 1940s. And that was before October 7 shattered whatever complacency remained.
In the hours after Hamas murdered more than 1,200 people, student groups at elite universities openly celebrated the massacre. Some SJP chapters used images of the Hamas hang gliders as symbols of pride. Anonymous campus apps filled with antisemitic threats. Jewish students were harassed, shunned, and in some cases assaulted. Universities that had spent years issuing statements about equity and inclusion responded, at best, with bureaucratic neutrality, and at worst with indifference to Jewish safety.
Off-campus, Jewish businesses and institutions were besieged by pro-Hamas demonstrations. Jews lost friends who demanded they denounce Israel or cut ties. In one case I know personally, a young woman who had been teaching disadvantaged children in Israel returned home after experiencing Hezbollah missile barrages—only to be ostracized by her longtime friend group.
Meanwhile, antisemitism on the right was becoming newly visible. A few Trump nominees were revealed to have posted overtly antisemitic content. Candace Owens and Tucker Carlson drifted further into amplifying classic antisemitic tropes. Nick Fuentes became a major online figure. Even the president of the Heritage Foundation defended Carlson and saw no reason to “cancel” Fuentes. For the first time since the 1930s, antisemitism is, in some circles, a political asset rather than a liability.
This is the atmosphere in which Jews have increasingly begun discussing the “attic test”: who would hide me if things got worse? Many have discovered, painfully, that some people they trusted would not.
And it is why last week’s Federalist Society panel mattered so profoundly.
Outside the Jewish community, almost no major organization has taken a comparably clear stand against antisemitism since October 7. Even many Jewish institutions have struggled to respond without hedging. The Federalist Society—all too often caricatured by its critics—delivered a moment of genuine civic leadership. Its president, Sheldon Gilbert, deserves enormous credit for recognizing what the moment required.
I hope other institutions follow the Society’s example. But even if they do not, this panel offered something that has been in short supply for American Jews over the past year: solidarity without conditions, clarity without caveats, and the assurance that at least some powerful voices are willing to stand in front of us, not only behind us.