Nothing New Under the Sun

It is painfully obvious: antisemitism has become a pandemic, proliferating throughout our country and far beyond its borders. Nourished by age-old blood libels, antisemitic tropes, and the familiar practice of scapegoating, Jew-hatred has become not only acceptable in certain circles but the preferred narrative of extremists on both ends of the ideological spectrum. In a remarkable convergence, the Jewish people have managed to bring together otherwise mortal enemies on the far left and far right, united in a common cause: their hostility toward the Jewish people and the Jewish state, the Great and Little Satan, respectively.

What was once whispered in private is now shouted in public. Antisemitism has found its way into political forums, university campuses, corporate boardrooms, classrooms, and mainstream media. Jewish students are intimidated, Jewish businesses are targeted, synagogues require heightened security, and Jewish individuals are increasingly made to feel that their identity is something to conceal rather than embrace. Most disturbing is not simply the proliferation of antisemitism, but its growing social and political acceptance.

The fact that approximately 30% of Jewish voters in New York City supported Zohran Mamdani, who makes no secret of his hostility toward Israel, the Jewish homeland, was alarming enough. But learning that 57% of Jewish voters supported Abdul El-Sayed, who during his campaign characterized Israel as “evil” and “bloodthirsty” and accused it of apartheid and genocide, is even more disturbing. These figures raise an uncomfortable question: Have some American Jews become so detached from the historical experiences of their own people that they no longer recognize the implications of the rhetoric directed against them?

There is a legitimate distinction between criticizing an Israeli government and denying the Jewish people the right to national self-determination. But when Israel is singled out through accusations that echo centuries-old antisemitic narratives, when its very existence is treated as an offense, and when its defenders are expected to apologize for exercising the same right of self-defense afforded to every other nation, we should not be surprised when anti-Israel hostility crosses into antisemitism.

This should prompt some serious introspection within the Jewish community. We cannot simply point fingers at those who harbor animosity toward us while ignoring the divisions, complacency, and political tribalism within our own ranks. We have spent generations celebrating our acceptance into American society, sometimes confusing acceptance with security and assimilation with belonging. We have too often assumed that our professional accomplishments, civic contributions, political affiliations, and personal relationships would insulate us from the prejudices that have followed our people for centuries.

They have not, they do not, and as history has shown, they most assuredly will not.

Jewish history should have taught us that our security cannot rest exclusively on the goodwill of others. Our sages teach us to “love the stranger,” but too often the stranger does not love us. Therefore, we must remain vigilant, and encourage communal solidarity, Jewish education, a willingness to defend our identity, and the courage to speak when silence is more comfortable. We cannot expect others to recognize the significance of Jewish history if we neglect to teach it ourselves. We also cannot expect others to respect our religion if we neglect to respect it ourselves. Nor can we expect our children and grandchildren to understand the importance of Israel if we fail to explain why a Jewish homeland is not merely a political preference but an essential expression of Jewish historical continuity.

History has a stubborn way of repeating itself. Some of its darkest chapters began in the 1930s, when the rhetoric of exclusion, demonization, and collective blame gradually became part of the accepted political and social vocabulary. Jews were portrayed as outsiders, disloyal citizens, economic manipulators, and threats to national identity. The circumstances were different, but the underlying mechanism was familiar: identify a convenient scapegoat, assign it responsibility for society’s problems, and gradually make its exclusion and persecution acceptable.

We need not suggest that today’s America is Germany of the 1930s to recognize the warning signs. Historical comparisons are not predictions, nor claims that circumstances are identical. They remind us that civilized societies are not immune to moral deterioration. The comforting notion that “it can never happen here” is increasingly exposed as a dangerous exercise in self-delusion. Societies rarely recognize the warning signs until they become impossible to ignore, and by then, correcting direction may be more difficult.

But antisemitism does not develop in a vacuum. It flourishes in an environment where truth becomes subordinate to ideology, historical memory is discarded, and the distinction between right and wrong becomes increasingly blurred.

For decades, our society has been steadily, imperceptibly, moving toward a culture of self-destructive behavior. The Ten Commandments are ridiculed and rejected. The American flag is desecrated and patriotism dismissed as jingoism. Respect for law, authority, personal responsibility, and the institutions that sustain a free society is increasingly portrayed as evidence of intolerance or oppression. When our cities descend into chaos, with rioting, looting, assaults on law enforcement, and other forms of lawlessness, such behavior is too often excused or repackaged as protected expression.

Freedom of speech is an indispensable American principle. But the right to express an opinion does not confer immunity from criticism, nor does it transform intimidation, harassment, threats, or violence into legitimate civic engagement. A society that cannot distinguish between the protection of dissent and the toleration of lawlessness is in danger of losing its moral compass.

Meanwhile, a subterranean cultural revolution has been taking place in academia, elementary schools, corporations, political institutions, traditional media, and social media. The institutions and values that once provided the foundations of our society are increasingly denounced as racist, homophobic, misogynistic, oppressive, or otherwise illegitimate. The vocabulary changes, the accusations multiply, and the institutions themselves are placed on the defensive.

The result is a gradual erosion of the very principles that made America an attractive destination for generations of immigrants seeking freedom, opportunity, and religious liberty. A country founded upon the proposition that all individuals are endowed with equal rights is increasingly witnessing identity politics supplant individual merit, historical revisionism replace historical understanding, and ideological conformity challenge intellectual independence.

It is within this environment that antisemitism finds fertile ground. Jews have historically been assigned contradictory identities to suit the prejudices of the moment. We are simultaneously portrayed as capitalist exploiters and communist revolutionaries, wealthy elites and impoverished outsiders, global manipulators, and disloyal citizens. We are accused of exercising too much influence and, at the same time, of being powerless and parasitic. The contradictions are irrelevant to those committed to the accusation. The objective has never been intellectual consistency; it has been the identification of a common enemy.

That is what makes the current convergence of the far left and far right so revealing. Their political philosophies may be diametrically opposed, but their willingness to make Jews and Israel the objects of their hostility provides common ground. The slogans differ, the flags differ, and the ideological justifications may be worlds apart, but the target remains remarkably familiar.

The decline of a society rarely announces itself with a single dramatic event. It is more often a gradual process marked by internal divisions, institutional compromises, the normalization of once-unacceptable behavior, and the unwillingness of ordinary people to confront developments that make them uncomfortable. History teaches us that when a society abandons its moral foundations and becomes increasingly tolerant of political extremism, minorities can quickly become convenient targets. The Jews have experienced this sequence before. We know how quickly the status of an accepted and contributing minority can change when political opportunism and popular resentment converge.

Our response must be more than expressions of outrage after another incident, another demonstration, another desecrated synagogue, or another Jewish student being threatened. It must include education, political engagement, support for Jewish institutions, solidarity with Israel, and an unequivocal refusal to normalize the demonization of our people. We must insist that the principles of free speech and equal protection apply to Jews as they do to every other American. And we must be prepared to defend those principles even when doing so conflicts with our political affiliations or personal preferences.

We should stop asking how something like this could happen again and start asking why we continue to be surprised when it does.

King Solomon captured this enduring truth thousands of years ago in Ecclesiastes:

“That which has been is what will be, and that which has been done is what will be done; and there is nothing new under the sun.”

The greatest danger is not that history repeats itself. It is that we repeatedly fail to recognize it when it does, and that, having recognized it, we lack the courage or conviction to do anything about it.

There is, indeed, nothing new under the sun. But there is no excuse for failing to learn from what has already happened beneath it.