The Best Answer to Antisemitism? More Jewish Life, Not Less.

As antisemitism continues to trouble our communities, we must ask an important question: What is the most effective way to confront it?

More Holocaust education? More public condemnations? More reminders of the extraordinary contributions Jews have made to medicine, science, culture and civilization?

All are important. We must teach history, confront hatred, protect our communities and hold those responsible for antisemitism accountable.

But the Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, offered an additional answer that is as relevant today as ever:

The strongest response to those who seek to diminish Jewish life is to strengthen Jewish life.

Not simply to remember how Jews died, but to celebrate how Jews live.

Not merely to defend Jewish identity, but to embrace it.

And certainly not to allow those who hate Jews to determine how openly Jewish we should be.

Consider how we sometimes teach Jewish history to our children.

We tell them about the Inquisition, the pogroms, the Holocaust and centuries of persecution. These lessons are essential. But imagine a Jewish child asking, “Why should I be proud to be Jewish?”

What if our answer consists primarily of stories about people who hated us?

Have we explained why Judaism is worth loving?

We have taught about Auschwitz. But have we taught about Mount Sinai?

We have taught about concentration camps. But have we taught about the warmth of a Shabbat dinner, the beauty of Jewish traditions and the responsibility to make the world a better place?

A Jewish identity built entirely around suffering risks becoming an identity built around fear.

The Rebbe believed Jewish education must offer something greater: a positive understanding of who we are, what we believe and what we contribute through the way we live.

He also challenged the notion that Jewish acceptance should depend on Jewish achievements.

We proudly celebrate Jewish Nobel Prize winners, scientists, physicians and innovators. But would Jewish people be any less deserving of respect if none of those achievements existed?

Human dignity is not something a minority must earn through extraordinary accomplishments.

The Rebbe also drew a powerful lesson from the biblical story of Purim.

Haman’s hatred threatened Jews who maintained their distinct identity and those who had assimilated into Persian society. Neither approach guaranteed protection.

The lesson was unmistakable: Hiding one’s identity is no reliable defense against prejudice.

In a letter to a university professor facing hostility, the Rebbe warned that retreating from visible Jewish involvement could be interpreted by antisemites as a victory and encourage further intimidation.

His message was not to seek confrontation or ignore genuine security concerns. It was that prejudice should never become the force that determines our identity.

Instead, the Rebbe encouraged Jewish people to express their faith through everyday actions.

Light Sabbath candles. Place a mezuzah on the door. Wear a yarmulke proudly. Give charity. Study Jewish teachings. Practice kindness. Help another person.

These actions may appear small, but together they create a powerful statement.

We do not practice Judaism because someone hates Jews. We practice Judaism because we love being Jewish.

And that distinction matters enormously.

If every Jewish gathering focuses on antisemitism, every educational program emphasizes persecution and every public discussion revolves around our enemies, we risk allowing those enemies to set the Jewish agenda.

The Rebbe refused to accept that.

His response was to build Jewish schools, establish community centers, expand educational opportunities and inspire people to take pride in their heritage.

He understood that the future of Jewish life cannot be secured through warnings about its destruction alone. It must be built through meaningful experiences that make people want to embrace it.

One of the Rebbe’s favorite teachings described a person whose job was to light the streetlamps before electricity.

Each evening, the lamplighter walked through dark streets carrying a long pole with a flame at its tip, lighting one lamp after another.

His responsibility was not to stand on the corner complaining about the darkness.

His responsibility was to bring light.

That image contains a message far beyond the Jewish community.

We cannot eliminate prejudice merely by describing how terrible it is. We must also create the kind of communities, relationships and educational experiences that replace ignorance with understanding and fear with confidence.

This does not mean abandoning Holocaust education or reducing efforts to combat antisemitism. Quite the opposite. Both remain indispensable.

But we must remember that Jewish history did not begin with the Holocaust, and Jewish identity must never be reduced to the experience of victimhood.

The Jewish story includes thousands of years of faith, learning, family, ethical responsibility, perseverance and joy.

Our children deserve to inherit that entire story.

The Rebbe’s message was ultimately one of confidence rather than fear, action rather than retreat, and hope rather than despair.

The greatest victory over those who tried to extinguish Jewish life is not simply proving that Jews survived. It is demonstrating that Jewish life continues to flourish.

So yes, teach the Holocaust. Confront antisemitism. Defend religious freedom. Stand against hatred wherever it appears.

But also fill our homes with tradition, our schools with knowledge, our communities with kindness and our lives with purpose.

Because the best answer to darkness is not simply to condemn it.

It is to create more light.

Rabbi Anchelle Perl is the spiritual leader of Congregation Beth Sholom Chabad of Mineola and a member of the Nassau County Human Rights Commission.