Campus Antisemitism: Different, Not Better
One of the most common questions I get asked about Jewish campus life centres on antisemitism: Is it getting better? Whether based in hope that it is, the slightly fewer examples of campus-based Jew hatred in our Instagram feeds, or the multiplicity of other concerns, it’s a fair and understandable inquiry.
My simple answer: No, I’m sorry to tell you, it isn’t getting better. It’s just getting different.
Antisemitism certainly hit a very public high-water mark after October 7. The 2023-2024 year was brutal in terms of numbers of incidents of antisemitism, as well as the intensity and visibility of those incidents. Reports of Jew hatred rose fivefold, from under one hundred the previous year to nearly five hundred, and examples included ripping mezuzot off of dorm room doors, verbal assaults, and large rallies with signs endorsing terror. No matter what metrics you rely on, the explosion of campus antisemitism was undeniable and obvious.
Since then, incidents as reported have ebbed slightly, but remain stubbornly high, with 370 reported to Hillel Ontario last year. However, much of this drop is likely to be reporting fatigue, an increasing tendency to becoming inured to antisemitism, a sense that less dramatic occurrences aren’t worth the effort of responding to, and a lack of faith that those in positions of authority will take effective action.
But it’s important to note that antisemitism has mutated more than declined. Yes, there are fewer videos of students blocking entrances to buildings or accosting Jewish students. What remains is, in many ways, far more dangerous.
As I’ve written before, antisemitism has leached into the campus ecosystem. It is taken as a given that Israel is a genocidal apartheid state and that Jews who don’t actively denounce the Jewish state are complicit. Even those who are apolitical and admittedly unfamiliar with the dynamics of Middle Eastern conflicts and politics often have a generalized sense that Jews and Israel are controversial and that engaging with them is likely to invite friction and unwanted attention.
Sadly, they might not be entirely wrong. Inviting a speaker to speak on, say, chemical engineering could lead to protests and significant security costs just because the speaker is Israeli. Becoming friends with someone who’s Jewish or Israeli could be interpreted by peers as befriending a racist and lead to social ostracism. In short, a significant portion of campus might not be actively antisemitic or hate Israel, but could easily conclude that partnerships and relationships with Jews and Israel aren’t worth the hassle or risk. This kind of passive, permissive antisemitism is a major, growing, and less visible threat.
The upshot of this: the potential for de facto BDS. We can garner administration support, fight and defeat formal motions, and take in stride performative endorsements by impotent bodies, but when individuals make their own choices based on personal convenience, limited financial and other resources, and time constraints, it’s far more difficult to identify, surface, and combat.
All of this comes on top of the ongoing, more familiar, and increasing Jew hatred, like classroom bigotry disguised as academic freedom or easily shared social media posts and comments. We’re also getting regular reports of flat-out Holocaust denial, which we’ve never heard before. Just because these aren’t as apparent as they once were doesn’t mean they’re no longer there or that antisemitism has faded from students’ experiences and lives.
So sadly, no, campus isn’t better. It’s different, and in some ways, it’s worse.
