Knowing Who We Are: A Jewish Response to an Ancient Hatred

A people should not have to wait until hatred becomes violence before naming what is happening.

That was the heart of the warning Israel’s ambassador to the United States, Yechiel Leiter, delivered at the closing ceremony of Chabad’s Kinus Hashluchim, the annual gathering of its emissaries from around the world, in Edison, New Jersey.

For Leiter, the subject is profoundly personal. His eldest son, Moshe Yedidya, was killed fighting in Gaza. Another son, Neria, remained hospitalized after being wounded in a September terrorist attack. His family’s suffering gives his warning enormous emotional weight. His claims deserve careful examination on their evidence.

Leiter described a progression familiar from Jewish history: Jews are denigrated, accused of monstrous acts, and delegitimized until their exclusion and mistreatment become acceptable.

His remarks included an accusation that The New York Times, through its coverage of Gaza, was helping prepare a future genocide against Jews. That is a grave charge. But the responsibility he placed before his audience reaches beyond any one newspaper.

“We have to identify the problem, and we have to fight it,” he said. “We fight it by knowing who we are, we fight it by knowing who our friends are, and we fight it by knowing who the enemy is, and by identifying them as the enemy, and calling them out as the enemy.”

Know ourselves. Recognize our friends. Identify our enemies.

Each responsibility requires courage and judgment.

Before hatred becomes violence

The history behind Leiter’s warning is concrete.

In Norwich, England, in 1144, Jews were falsely accused of ritually murdering a Christian boy named William. That accusation became an early medieval example of the blood libel tradition. Similar falsehoods spread across Europe, portraying Jews as people whose religious commitments required the murder of others. Blood libel accusations repeatedly helped provoke persecution and mass violence.

The danger extended beyond any single accusation. Such stories taught people to regard Jewish neighbors as monsters. They gave prejudice an explanation and cruelty a justification.

Historical parallels require care. Medieval ritual-murder fabrications and contemporary allegations about military conduct are different kinds of claims. Allegations about a war must be examined on their evidence; invoking history cannot settle them.

But that distinction leaves an urgent responsibility intact: recognizing when criticism becomes collective blame, when disagreement becomes dehumanization, and when Jewish suffering is treated as deserved.

We should be able to identify those patterns before their consequences become catastrophic.

Knowing who we are

Our response begins with the identity we give the next generation.

Jewish children deserve roots deeper than the hostility directed toward them. They need to encounter Jewish life through learning, belonging, celebration, responsibility, argument, creativity, and love. They deserve to understand why this inheritance matters and why Jewish sovereignty carries such profound meaning.

A child should hear “You belong” long before being asked to defend that belonging.

We cannot leave the definition of Jewish identity to those who resent it. Nor should every accusation force us into a posture of apology for our existence.

We can examine our decisions, challenge our leaders, and acknowledge suffering without accepting collective guilt. We can care about Palestinian children while insisting that Jewish children deserve safety.

These commitments give substance to the future we are defending.

Knowing our friends

Friendship becomes visible when standing beside us carries a cost.

Who speaks when Jews are threatened? Who refuses to excuse the deliberate murder of civilians? Who recognizes that Jewish students should be able to participate openly in university life? Who can advocate for Palestinians without holding Jews everywhere responsible for an Israeli government’s decisions?

These are meaningful tests.

A friend may criticize an Israeli leader, question a military decision, or challenge an argument we hold deeply. What matters is whether that person recognizes our humanity, takes our vulnerability seriously, and accepts our right to live securely as Jews.

We need the confidence to hear uncomfortable questions from honest friends. We also need to recognize when someone is treating our existence as an offense.

Those judgments become harder when agreement is made the price of belonging.

Identifying the enemy

There are people and organizations committed to killing Jews, terrorizing civilians, and destroying Israel. Their intentions should be named plainly. Political grievances do not excuse deliberate attacks on civilians.

There are also people who spread collective blame, celebrate Jewish suffering, or use political language to make hostility toward Jews appear respectable. Their conduct deserves a clear response.

But identifying an enemy requires specificity.

A terrorist organization, a person threatening a synagogue, an institution tolerating harassment, and a publication carrying inaccurate reporting present different problems. Each requires evidence and an appropriate response.

Leiter’s charge against The New York Times should be weighed with that same discipline.

Consider the photograph he cited: an emaciated child in Gaza whose underlying medical conditions were initially omitted from the newspaper’s account. The paper subsequently acknowledged those conditions while continuing to report that the child suffered from severe malnutrition. Both facts belong in an honest discussion of the episode.

The reporting can be scrutinized: what was published, what context was missing, what was corrected, and how prominently.

The allegation that coverage was intended to prepare a genocide requires separate evidence about purpose.

We can demand accountability for distorted reporting without claiming knowledge of motives we have not established. That discipline makes our case more credible and our response more effective.

Disagreement or danger

My work in relationship education has reinforced the importance of distinguishing disagreement from danger.

In a relationship, criticism can feel like rejection. A difficult question can sound like an attack. Sometimes progress begins when people can hear what is being asked without assuming an intention to harm.

Other situations require protection. Threats, coercion, and violence cannot be resolved by asking the person at risk to listen more patiently.

Public life requires its own version of that judgment.

Treat every disagreement as danger, and we push away people who might stand with us. Treat danger as mere disagreement, and we leave ourselves exposed.

The practical responsibilities follow: document threats, challenge falsehoods with evidence, demand institutional accountability, and build dependable alliances. Teach Jewish history with confidence and care. Give young people a community where they experience belonging before they are called upon to explain themselves to others.

Leiter delivered his warning to people whose daily work sustains Jewish life in communities around the world. That setting matters. Confronting hatred must go hand in hand with ensuring that Jewish life remains strong, meaningful, and accessible.

Knowing who we are gives us something enduring to protect. Knowing our friends helps us protect it together. Recognizing our enemies, precisely and on the evidence, allows us to confront danger with clarity.

We owe the next generation the courage to do all three.