How do you say Jew in Arabic?

Arabic is a language of extraordinary richness, embodying a vast lexicon that allows for precise expression and interpretive flexibility. This inherent complexity reflects the language’s long history, which has enabled Arabic-speaking cultures to articulate a wide range of philosophical, theological, and social ideas. Yet, this flexibility also leaves Arabic uniquely vulnerable to divergent interpretations. For centuries, Islamic scholars and leaders have debated and reinterpreted classical texts, most notably the Qur’an, giving rise to diverse sects and schools of thought within Islam. This linguistic versatility is a double-edged sword; while it enables rich expression, it also allows for biases to seep into vernacular and everyday usage, particularly regarding Jewish people.

In modern Arabic-speaking societies, there is a pronounced divide between Classical Arabic, the language of official discourse, education, and religious texts, and the many spoken dialects that dominate everyday interactions. In Classical Arabic, the language of sacred texts, Jews are referenced with a linguistic neutrality that reflects early Islamic societies’ complex, sometimes contradictory, views of Jewish communities. However, in colloquial Arabic, words associated with “Jew” often carry negative connotations, implicitly tied to accusations of greed, betrayal, and malice. These associations may seem subtle but profoundly impact perceptions, perpetuating harmful stereotypes that can shape future attitudes.

For example, in many Arabic dialects, the term “Yahudi” (Jew) is sometimes used interchangeably with words for “traitor” or “miser.” In Lebanon and Syria, it is not uncommon to hear “Yahudi” as an insult for someone considered unscrupulous or duplicitous, divorced from any literal reference to Jewish identity. In Egyptian Arabic, phrases involving “Yahudi” can carry a tone of ridicule or contempt, reinforcing biases woven into common expressions. These associations are not new—they are part of a legacy that stretches back centuries, reflecting the residual impacts of historical enmities, political disputes, and theologically rooted suspicions.

Paradoxically, this language of exclusion coexists with a widespread nostalgia for a “golden age” of interfaith harmony, a time many Arabs proudly recall as an era when Muslims, Jews, and Christians lived together in peace across the medieval Islamic world. There were times of relative harmony, such as during the Andalusian period in Spain or under specific Ottoman rules, when Jews, Christians, and Muslims coexisted, sometimes prosperously. However, the reality was often more complex. Jewish communities were generally subject to conditions of dhimmi status – a legal classification under Islamic rule that permitted non-Muslims to live within Muslim lands in exchange for paying a special tax and accepting limited rights. This coexistence, while occasionally flourishing, was not without its layers of prejudice and restrictions, and it has left an indelible mark on how Jews are perceived in much of the Arabic-speaking world today.

In antisemitism studies, Arabic language content remains understudied, creating a blind spot in understanding how antisemitic narratives evolve and spread in the Arab world. This oversight is exacerbated by the reluctance of major tech companies to address Arabic content online with the same rigor applied to English or European languages. Arabic content moderation requires vast resources and a nuanced understanding of regional dialects, idioms, and contexts. As a result, platforms such as Facebook, YouTube, and X (Twitter) have become hosts to a growing body of unmonitored Arabic antisemitic rhetoric. This content ranges from explicit Holocaust denial to subtle, coded language reinforcing negative stereotypes. For example, recent social media analyses reveal that phrases like “Zionist entity” are routinely used as pejoratives, blurring the line between legitimate political critique and antisemitism. The language is a carefully crafted proxy, relying on seemingly political terms but perpetuating age-old stereotypes.

In recent years, I have monitored Arabic-language content across various online platforms, and the findings are deeply concerning. From claims of Jewish global conspiracies to Holocaust denial thinly veiled as historical “revisionism,” antisemitism in Arabic has adapted to modern contexts, taking on new forms that are, at times, more challenging to detect yet profoundly impactful. The digital landscape, in particular, has accelerated the dissemination of these narratives. On platforms such as WhatsApp, Telegram, and local forums, antisemitic memes, videos, and messages circulate with ease. For instance, around significant political events, spikes in antisemitic rhetoric emerge, fueled by unchecked discussions that often paint Jews as the instigators of all manner of societal ills.

Addressing antisemitism in the Arabic-speaking world requires a severe engagement with the language itself. The language of bias has evolved alongside political developments, theological interpretations, and the influence of other ideologies, from Nazi propaganda during World War II to Soviet anti-Zionism in the 20th century. Today, it is essential to analyze how these narratives manifest in Arabic, both in Classical and colloquial forms, and to recognize the cultural and political factors that have allowed antisemitism to adapt and survive. Scholars, educators, and policymakers must confront the reality that these biases are often perpetuated not by overt hate speech but by the subtleties of language – the everyday expressions, idioms, and associations that subtly reinforce a culture of exclusion and mistrust.

The stakes are high. Without understanding the specific ways antisemitism manifests in Arabic-speaking societies, efforts to counteract it will remain limited and superficial. Tackling Arabic antisemitism will require collaboration between tech companies, linguists, and policy experts to create a more nuanced approach to moderation and to challenge the underlying narratives. Arabic is a language of poetry, philosophy, and profound intellectual legacy; it should not be a vehicle for prejudice. Instead, by addressing how antisemitism is embedded in language, we can pave the way for an Arabic that champions coexistence, respect, and understanding.