The Global Surge of Antisemitism and the West’s Moral Blindspot

Antisemitism, an ancient and insidious hatred, has demonstrated a remarkable ability to evolve across time and geography. Today, it is not merely an undercurrent of prejudice; it has metastasised into a global phenomenon, one that disproportionately flourishes in Muslim-majority nations. The latest data from the Anti-Defamation League (ADL) offers a sobering confirmation of what many have long suspected—antisemitic attitudes are not just prevalent but deeply entrenched in regions spanning from North Africa to Southeast Asia. Even so-called moderate and historically tolerant nations, such as Indonesia, now exhibit rates of antisemitic sentiment reaching staggering levels, with 96% of respondents endorsing anti-Jewish conspiracies, distortions, and hostility.

This statistical reality does not exist in a vacuum, nor can it be divorced from the broader socio-political and theological constructs that have allowed it to fester. Unlike in the West, where antisemitism has often been tied to specific historical moments—be it Christian theological supersessionism, economic scapegoating, or the pseudo-scientific racism of the 19th and 20th centuries—antisemitism in much of the Muslim world has been institutionalised within cultural, religious, and political frameworks that are rarely interrogated.

Unlike the ebb and flow of antisemitic sentiment in the West, where societal attitudes can be influenced by education, legislation, and public discourse, antisemitism in much of the Islamic world remains locked in place. The enduring potency of these beliefs stems from a convergence of religious doctrine, state propaganda, and the absence of direct Jewish communities with whom to engage. In many of these countries, Jews do not exist as neighbours, colleagues, or fellow citizens; they exist only as an abstraction, a mythical entity that serves as the eternal enemy in a narrative perpetuated by clerics, politicians, and media outlets. The absence of direct human interaction allows antisemitism to flourish unchecked, immune to the corrective forces of lived experience.

The durability of these attitudes is further reinforced by the way antisemitism has become an organising principle of political and social grievances. Where once antisemitism was tied to Christian theological disputes or European racial hierarchies, in the Muslim world, it has become the go-to mechanism for explaining decline, failure, and crisis. Whether it be economic stagnation, political corruption, or military humiliation, the figure of the Jew is summoned to account for all misfortunes. In this way, antisemitism is not merely a prejudice but a structural feature of contemporary political discourse.

This is particularly evident in the enduring appeal of antisemitic conspiracy theories that are repeated and repackaged across generations. These are not marginal ideas, confined to the fringes, but mainstream tropes, peddled by intellectuals, clerics, and heads of state. The Protocols of the Elders of Zion, a Russian imperial forgery, circulates widely in bookstores from Cairo to Jakarta. Holocaust denial is not a taboo but a subject of televised debate. The notion that Jews control the world’s financial and political institutions is not refuted but assumed as an undeniable truth, taught in schools and reinforced by state-backed media.

Compounding this problem is the role of Israel as the ideological focal point of modern antisemitism. In much of the Muslim world, antizionism is not a political critique of Israeli policy but an existential rejection of Jewish sovereignty. The line between antizionism and antisemitism is not blurred—it is nonexistent. Israel is not merely criticised; it is dehumanised, vilified, and demonised in a manner that extends well beyond the realm of political opposition. The hatred directed at Israel often follows the precise contours of classical antisemitism—accusations of bloodlust, global control, and malevolent scheming. The Jew of medieval Europe, accused of poisoning wells and spreading the plague, has simply been rebranded as the Israeli, accused of genocide, apartheid, and every conceivable crime against humanity.

And yet, the most striking feature of this phenomenon is its almost complete exemption from scrutiny. Whereas in the West, antisemitism is at least met with condemnation and attempts at redress—however imperfect—there exists no serious reckoning with antisemitism in the Muslim world. It is not debated, challenged, or confronted; it is simply accepted as part of the fabric of society. Western institutions, eager to placate diplomatic allies or avoid accusations of cultural insensitivity, remain conspicuously silent. The result is a grotesque paradox: societies with virtually no Jews remain among the most virulently antisemitic, while global institutions that claim to uphold universal human rights refuse to acknowledge, let alone address, the scale of the problem.

The cost of this unchecked hatred is profound. It is not merely a Jewish problem—it is a barometer of societal decay. Historically, the presence of antisemitism has never been a sign of a healthy, functioning civilisation. It has always been a symptom of deeper dysfunction—political authoritarianism, economic stagnation, intellectual decline, and moral corruption. A society that indulges in antisemitic fantasies is a society that has abandoned critical thought. A nation that teaches its children to hate Jews is a nation that will struggle to produce citizens capable of innovation, dialogue, or meaningful engagement with the modern world.

The failure to address antisemitism in the Muslim world is not just a moral failure but a strategic one. It has allowed entire generations to be raised on a diet of paranoia and grievance, fuelling extremism, legitimising violence, and obstructing peace. The Abraham Accords demonstrated that pragmatic leadership can overcome even the deepest ideological barriers. But no diplomatic breakthrough can succeed in a cultural climate where Jew-hatred remains the default setting of the public imagination.

A reckoning is long overdue. Western policymakers must abandon their moral cowardice and demand accountability from their allies. Muslim-majority nations that claim to seek modernisation and integration into the global economy must be held to the same standard as any other. Antisemitism is not a cultural quirk or a regrettable byproduct of conflict—it is a poison that corrupts everything it touches. Until it is confronted with the seriousness it demands, the dream of a stable, prosperous Middle East will remain just that—a dream.