I Watched My Country Betray Me for Being a Jew

For decades, the Netherlands was seen as a beacon of tolerance, a country shaped by the memory of Anne Frank and its historical empathy for the Jewish people.

But that perception was shattered in November 2024, when mobs hunted down Jews in the streets after a soccer match between Maccabi Tel Aviv and Ajax. The world watched in shock as footage surfaced of Dutch citizens chasing Israeli fans, shouting threats, and praising Hamas.

For many, this was a moment of reckoning. How could such violent hatred erupt in a country long believed to be pro-Israel? The harsh truth is that the Netherlands’ reputation for moral decency has been eroding for years. Anti-Semitism and anti-Zionism are no longer whispered in private—they are shouted in public squares, tolerated in workplaces, and embedded within universities.

The events of 2024 didn’t create this hatred; they merely exposed it.

I have seen this transformation firsthand. As the founder of Time to Stand Up for Israel (TTSUFI), a Netherlands-based NGO, I spent years combating anti-Israel sentiment in my own country.

One of the earliest wake-up calls came in 2015, when the municipality of Amsterdam allowed Haneen Zoabi—an anti-Zionist Arab politician—to speak at a Kristallnacht commemoration. The event was held near the Jewish Resistance Monument, a solemn site honoring those who fought against the Nazis.

Holocaust survivors’ descendants, including myself, were horrified. We pleaded with the authorities to either move or cancel the event. They refused. The voices of Israel’s critics were amplified, while Jewish voices were ignored. It was a clear message: in the Netherlands, anti-Zionists had a platform. Jews did not.

For three and a half years, I stood in Dam Square, leading peaceful counter-protests against Hamas and the BDS movement. What struck me most was the sheer ignorance I encountered, especially among university students. Many of them had been indoctrinated with a version of history that painted Israel as the oppressor. They shouted slogans without understanding the meanings, repeated lies they had absorbed from professors, and shared social media propaganda from influencers and activist groups.

The hatred for Israel wasn’t rooted in facts—it was an ideology, one that had been allowed to flourish unchecked.

The October 7th massacre made this hatred impossible to ignore. It was no longer just a matter of misinformation—it was open hostility. In 2014, I had been harassed at PGGM, a major Dutch pension fund, for my pro-Israel stance. Eventually, I was forced out of my job.

Nearly a decade later, in November 2023, I faced the same venom in an entirely different setting. During a casual conversation about travel destinations, I mentioned Israel. A colleague immediately erupted, calling me a “baby killer” and a “dirty Zionist dog.” Instead of condemning this blatant anti-Semitism, my employer issued a warning: if I mentioned Israel one more time, I would be fired.

Finding a new job was an even greater challenge. As the founder of TTSUFI, my social media presence made me an easy target. One company initially praised my qualifications, calling me the “perfect candidate.” Then they checked my LinkedIn profile. My interview was suddenly canceled without explanation.

Another employer openly mocked me, telling me that unless I erased all traces of my connection to Israel, I would never find a job. It became so bad that I started hiding my Star of David necklace during interviews—not because I was ashamed, but because I knew it could cost me a livelihood.

So when anti-Semitic mobs roamed Amsterdam in November 2024, I wasn’t surprised. I had seen the warning signs for years. But Dutch society had ignored them, clinging to the illusion that anti-Semitism was a thing of the past. That illusion is now broken.

The Netherlands is not the tolerant nation many believed it to be. It has allowed anti-Zionism to flourish under the disguise of “human rights” activism. It has let anti-Semitism creep back into the mainstream, claiming to be political discourse. And worst of all, it has remained silent in the face of rising violence.

If Israel and the Jewish people want to survive, we cannot afford to be silent. We must fight back—not just against the mobs in the streets, but against the narratives that fuel them.

Education is our most powerful weapon. We must expose the lies that have poisoned young minds. We must call out the hypocrisy of those who claim to stand for justice while vilifying the only democracy in the Middle East. And above all, we must remain unapologetically proud of who we are. Because if history has taught us anything, it is that silence is never an option.