Jewish strategy in an age of double standards

TL;DR: Antisemitism is no longer confined to the fringes; it has become socially acceptable in many academic, cultural, and political spaces. In the wake of October 7, Jewish communities have faced not just hate, but indifference and institutional complicity. Responses have varied: some retreat, others negotiate, and a growing number confront it head-on. This piece argues that the time for polite diplomacy is over. Jewish communities must move from explanation to action, investing in legal defense, new institutions, and stronger coalitions, including with non-Jewish allies. Strategy, not silence, must guide our next chapter.

Nearly two years have passed since the October 7, 2023 genocidal attacks by Hamas on Israel. A barbaric massacre carried out by modern-day Nazis, that left over 1,200 people dead, thousands wounded, and more than 250 kidnapped into Gaza. Some hostages have since been released through international pressure or prisoner exchanges; others remain trapped, their condition unknown. International organizations have largely turned away. The suffering of these civilians, men, women, and children, has been met not with sustained outrage but with selective silence.

But the brutality of that day did not end at Israel’s borders. Across the West, antisemitism surged, first on university campuses, then in public discourse, and now in mainstream institutions. Jews around the world have faced harassment, exclusion, threats, and outright violence, not for anything they did, but for who they are. Many have stopped wearing visible Jewish symbols. Some have avoided classes or work out of fear. Others have been pressured to renounce Israel just to be socially accepted. What began as outrage over war has morphed into the normalization of antisemitism, rationalized by activists, tolerated by institutions, and, most dangerously, downplayed by many who should know better.

In response, Jewish communities have not remained passive, but they are not unified. As in past moments of crisis, they are divided over how to respond. Three broad approaches have emerged: withdrawal, institutional engagement, and confrontation.

1. The cautious observers: Withdraw, de-escalate, and hope it passes

This group chooses low visibility. They distance themselves from Israel, avoid confrontation, and hope the social climate will calm. Some act out of ideological disagreement with Israeli policy. Others are motivated by fear. The instinct is self-preservation.

This perspective is not cowardice; it is inherited trauma. For centuries, Jews survived by lying low during waves of hostility. History taught us: when hatred flares, retreat may buy time.

But that logic no longer holds. Today’s antisemitism is indiscriminate. The Jewish student who critiques Israel is targeted alongside the one who defends it. The synagogue that avoids political statements is threatened just like the one that speaks out. Silence offers no protection, not because people can’t tell the difference, but because they no longer care to.

2. The institutional negotiators: Work the system, maintain access

Many mainstream Jewish organizations have chosen this path. They engage with university administrators, issue formal statements, lobby lawmakers, and nurture relationships with political elites. Their strategy is pragmatic: influence from within. But increasingly, this amounts to managing decline.

A prime example is Maastricht University, where over a year of escalating incidents, including boycott campaigns against Israel, the exclusion of Jewish speakers, and repeated reports of campus harassment, has met with inadequate institutional responses. Most recently, a lecture by Shabbos Kestenbaum was canceled and relocated to private property after both the university and the city refused to provide a venue for an event organized by Jewish students, while pro-Palestine events went ahead uninterrupted. Earlier, a talk by Dr. Rawan Osman, a pro-Israel, Lebanese-Syrian peace activist, was violently disrupted when a hostile mob surrounded the venue, intimidating attendees while police looked on without intervening. The university’s subsequent “investigation”, which did not include the victims, members of the Jewish student and staff body, astonishingly concluded that in addition to preparing better and allocating a better location, appointing a professional moderator will prevent such incidents in the future, an utterly insufficient response to targeted intimidation.

In the aftermath, following intervention by Jewish leadership, the university’s most visible response was to agree to meet with the city’s Jewish community, a group with no formal ties to the institution. The university made no further concrete commitments to review its policies or actions; instead, officials offered expressions of sorrow that have yet to translate into tangible results. While securing this meeting (its timing remains unclear, and the lack of urgency from the university leadership in even taking this minimal step speaks volumes) was hailed as a breakthrough, it was, in reality, a symbolic gesture that falls far short of meaningful action.

This disconnect highlights a troubling gap between established Jewish organizations and the students and staff members who face antisemitism on the front lines. Too often, some of our leaders mistake polite reception for respect and symbolic progress for security. Institutions have learned that Jewish leadership in Europe asks for little and will settle for even less. In contrast, Jewish communities in the U.S. have taken a firmer stance: filing lawsuits, organizing coordinated media campaigns, and demanding policy changes.

3. The proactive realists: Name the threat, confront it head-on

This third response rejects both retreat and pacification. Its starting point is clarity: antisemitism is not simply resurgent, it is being rehabilitated under the banners of social justice, decolonial theory, and selective humanitarianism. When framed as resistance, anti-Jewish hatred becomes morally fashionable.

This approach insists on unapologetic truth:

• Name antisemitism wherever it appears, even when cloaked in anti-Zionist or hidden within academic language.
• Reject the condition that Jewish inclusion requires ideological disclaimers or political conformity.
• Oppose boycott efforts and the exclusion of Israeli scholars, artists, and institutions; these are not neutral acts of protest; they are discrimination.
• Insist on equal application of anti-discrimination laws and institutional policies, no exceptions.
• Build new institutions when existing ones fail, legal arms, cultural centers, and academic fora where Jewish and Israeli identity, thought, and creativity can flourish without apology.

Yes, this approach invites backlash: exclusion from elite spaces, accusations of extremism, friction in dialogue. But the greater danger lies in continued equivocation, which only legitimizes our aggressors. In a moment when antisemitism craves respectability, moral clarity is our strongest defense.

From diagnosis to prescription: A strategic framework

These three responses reflect real differences in temperament, history, and strategy. But they are not morally equivalent. One minimizes the problem. One misjudges its nature. And one meets it head-on.

What divides us cannot be what paralyzes us. The time for polite ambiguity is over. Jewish communities must stop measuring success by access to quiet meetings or the tone of official replies. We must stop explaining antisemitism to those who refuse to hear it, and start insisting on accountability from those who enable it, whether through silence, cowardice, or ideological convenience.

This does not mean abandoning dialogue. It means refusing to confuse politeness with principle.

To turn clarity into coordinated strength, we must:

1. Invite “Israelis” to the table

Nearly one-third of Jews in the Netherlands are Israeli-born or of Israeli heritage, yet they remain largely absent from leadership circles. Their experiences, networks, and perspectives are indispensable. They must be fully included in strategy sessions, communal leadership, and public representation.

2. Reevaluate political alliances

Too often, we have aligned ourselves with parties and figures who preach tolerance in theory but remain silent, complicit, or worse, when antisemitism arises. This cannot continue. Political support must be contingent on demonstrated solidarity with Jewish safety and Israel’s legitimacy. No more carte-blanche endorsements. Loyalty must be earned.

3. Collapse the antisemitism/anti-Zionism divide

The proposition that anti-Zionism is distinct from antisemitism is laughable, and protects modern haters from accountability. When “critique” demands Jewish expulsion, denies Jewish peoplehood, or bars Jewish voices, it is not analysis. It is antisemitism. Full stop. We must expose and reject this false dichotomy wherever it appears.

4. Invest in infrastructure for long-term resilience

• Dutch Jewish legal defense fund
  Provide legal support to students, academics, and professionals facing antisemitic harassment or discrimination. Expand this into strategic litigation targeting institutions that violate anti-discrimination laws or tolerate Jew-hatred in their ranks.
• Real-time antisemitism reporting platform
  Build a digital hub that documents incidents, analyzes trends, and informs public discourse, legal action, and policy development.
• Next-gen leadership academy
  Train young Jewish leaders in public policy, advocacy, law, media, and digital strategy, preparing them to navigate and shape public life with confidence and clarity.
• Independent Jewish forums
  Where institutions exclude or censor Jewish thought, we build our own: journals, lecture series, academic platforms, and cultural spaces where Jewish creativity, identity, and intellect can thrive unfiltered.

5. Assert legal and financial consequences

Antisemitism persists because it is too often cost-free. To reverse this, we must establish consequences, legal, financial, and institutional, for those who discriminate, intimidate, or exclude.

• Civil litigation as deterrence
  Pursue lawsuits in response to harassment, exclusion, intimidation, or hate speech. Demand accountability not just as victims, but as legal actors shaping precedent.
• File complaints under Dutch and EU law
  Use anti-discrimination frameworks to file formal complaints with human rights bodies, ombuds institutions, and oversight authorities. Track repeat offenders. Publicize failures.
• Seek financial compensation for damages
  When Jewish individuals suffer reputational, professional, or emotional harm due to antisemitic abuse, we must demand restitution, not as a symbolic gesture, but as a matter of justice.
• Create an amicus brief network
  Convene Jewish legal scholars and institutions to file amicus briefs in cases shaping the legal definitions of antisemitism, academic freedom, and civil liberties.

6. Invite our non-Jewish allies to the table

This is not a Jewish issue alone. Many non-Jewish allies, professors, activists, artists, clergy, have stood with Jewish communities, often at real personal risk. Some have faced harassment, career backlash, even threats of violence simply for defending Jewish dignity and inclusion.

They must not only be appreciated, they must be brought in. Together, we can build a broader coalition to fight ideological extremism, and create spaces of true pluralism. Their courage strengthens us. Our solidarity must protect them.

Conclusion: Choosing strategy over silence

The normalization of antisemitism is not a passing storm. It is a systemic shift, cultural, academic, and political. It will not be undone by caution or compromise, but by clarity, strategy, and collective resolve.

The Mishnah teaches us: “Everything is foreseen, yet freedom of choice is granted” (Pirkei Avot 3:15). We know that antisemitism is persistent. It has always adapted, finding new justifications, new language. That is foreseen. But our response is still a matter of choice.

We can choose fear, or we can choose responsibility. We can normalize our exclusion, or insist on our equal place in public life.

The choice is not between survival and confrontation.

It is between confrontation and disappearance.