Fighting Antisemitism Requires More Than Words

In just the past few weeks, American Jewry has witnessed a distressing rise in antisemitic violence-none more chilling than the May 22 shooting outside the Capital Jewish Museum in Washington, DC, where two Israeli embassy staffers, Yaron Lischinsky and Sarah Milgrim, were murdered in what authorities have called “horrific antisemitic violence.” Just days later, on June 1 in Boulder, Colorado, a Molotov cocktail attack struck a peaceful “Run For Their Lives” gathering supporting Israeli hostages-wounding a Holocaust survivor and injuring over a dozen people-when the assailant specifically targeted attendees he labeled “Zionist.” These are not isolated incidents lurking in the shadows, but bold, brazen acts of hatred carried out in broad daylight. While this surge in antisemitic violence has reached alarming new heights, it is the predictable outcome of a long-brewing crisis-one that has been unfolding for years on college campuses across the country.

A recent ADL survey confirms what many Jewish students already know from lived experience: antisemitic incidents on campuses have surged to historic levels. Flyers blaming Jews for global crises, students shouted down for wearing a kippah or an Israeli flag, guest speakers disinvited or attacked for being “Zionist”-the climate is no longer one of dialogue, but of silencing. At UC Berkeley’s Law School, for instance, nine student groups amended their bylaws to exclude speakers who support “Zionism”-a label that, for the vast majority of Jews, is inseparable from their cultural, religious, and ancestral identity.

As I’ve written previously, anti-Zionism is not merely a political critique-it has become, in many cases, the socially acceptable mask for antisemitism. Zionism, at its core, is the belief that the Jewish people have the right to self-determination in their ancestral homeland. Denying that right uniquely to Jews, while supporting it for every other people group on earth, is a double standard that reveals more than it hides. It is no longer enough to say “I’m not antisemitic, I’m just anti-Zionist.” When Jewish students are targeted, marginalized, or harassed under this banner, the distinction collapses.

Universities are meant to be laboratories of critical thinking. They should challenge assumptions, foster complex dialogue, and teach students to consider and contrast contradictory views at once. It is entirely legitimate-indeed, vital-for students to critique Israeli policies, just as they would any government. But when that criticism veers into demonization, into calls for Israel’s destruction, or into denying Jewish narratives and identities altogether, it ceases to be critical thinking and becomes incitement.

At the same time, academic freedom and freedom of expression must be protected. Suppressing unpopular views is not the solution-it is antithetical to the very mission of higher education. But freedom of expression does not grant license to harass, threaten, or exclude. When discourse crosses the line from debate to intimidation, universities have an obligation to respond-just as they would if any other minority group were being targeted. Jewish students deserve no less.

Furthermore, there is a glaring contradiction at the heart of how many university administrators approach this issue. On one hand, they invoke academic freedom and freedom of expression to justify allowing rhetoric that crosses the line into antisemitic and anti-Zionist incitement. Yet, on the other hand, they often remain silent-or even complicit-when Jewish or Zionist voices are excluded from campus events. A stark example exposes this hypocrisy: in February 2024, UC Berkeley’s administration evacuated and ultimately shut down an event by an Israeli lawyer after pro‑Palestinian protesters attacked the venue-breaking windows, physically assaulting attendees, and shouting antisemitic slurs-yet the university expressed concern for safety and allowed the cancelation. Contrast that with how many of these same administrations boast protection for anti‑Zionist speakers, arguing that “academic freedom” demands their platform – even when their rhetoric verges on harassment. The result? A one‑way application of free speech: Jewish and Zionist voices are marginalized or silenced, while anti‑Zionist agitators face few consequences.

When an Israeli academic is disinvited from a panel or a Jewish student group is denied funding for a speaker deemed “controversial,” it exposes the selective application of these very principles. Academic freedom cannot be a one-way street. It must also protect the rights of those who affirm Jewish identity and the connection to Israel, not just those who seek to delegitimize it. Excluding a Zionist speaker from a campus forum is not merely a political act-it is an act of discrimination. For more than 2,000 years, Jewish identity and connection to the Land of Israel have been intertwined in prayer, culture, and collective memory. To treat “Zionism” as a slur is to erase a fundamental part of Jewish self-understanding. Would a campus tolerate the exclusion of a feminist speaker because someone disagreed with her views on gender roles? Would it permit the silencing of a Black scholar for affirming ties to Africa? The answer is obvious-so why are Jews treated differently?

Justice Louis Brandeis once said, “The remedy to bad speech is more speech, not enforced silence.” That wisdom is more relevant today than ever. Universities must resist the temptation to censor-yet they must also actively foster counter-speech. If a campus funds programming that vilifies Israel, it has a moral and civic duty to also fund programming that defends Israel, or that educates about antisemitism. Equal time. Equal space. Equal respect.

Colleges must commit to creating truly inclusive environments-not by suppressing dissenting views, but by ensuring that Jewish students and Zionist voices are not drowned out or delegitimized. This requires institutional courage. It means acknowledging that antisemitism has evolved-and that it now often wears the face of anti-Zionism. It means standing up not just against swastikas on bathroom walls, but against curriculum and campus policies that normalize the erasure of Jewish identity.

We can-and must-do better. The academic community must recognize that combating antisemitism is not a matter of public relations, but a moral imperative. The health of our campuses, and the dignity of every student, depends on it.