Why Interfaith Alliance Is the Next Front Against Antisemitism

For most of the last century, American Jews compensated for our small numbers with outsized influence. This was built through philanthropy, civic engagement, media presence, and access to political leaders. That model is breaking down. The influence found through wealth and access is a fragile currency in an era when institutions themselves are losing public trust, and as the very democratic means by which Jewish Americans have earned influence are increasingly being portrayed with suspicion and demonization. Worse, it has become not just socially acceptable but politically advantageous in some quarters to be antisemitic and anti-Zionist. If the old strategy is running out of road, the path forward is arithmetic, not access. We need to identify friends who can move people, not simply influence policymakers. This is why I believe it is imperative right now for all Jews, particularly Jewish leaders, to reach out to Allied Faith Leaders to participate in a campaign against antisemitism.

Criticism Is Fair Game. Blood Libel Is Not.

Far too often today, “anti-Zionism” serves as a respectable-sounding cover as a vehicle for hatred, conspiracy theories, and lies that would be recognized instantly as bigotry if aimed at any other people. Modern blood libel doesn’t always announce itself as such, but strip away the vocabulary of the moment and the underlying accusation is the same one that has followed Jews for a thousand years. This demonization of Israel and her supporters has invaded our college campuses, as well as the algorithms of our news feeds. Today the accusations against “Zionists” are commonplace in mainstream media, as well as political campaigns. This rhetoric has led to an astronomical rise in antisemitic attacks. 

The Horseshoe

Picture antisemitism today as a horseshoe. At one end sits the far right, with its old-fashioned ethno-nationalist hostility to Jews. At the other end sits the far left, where anti-Zionism has become a socially acceptable vehicle for the same hostility, dressed in the language of human rights. The two ends don’t share a party, but they have met each other on this one issue.

Here is the strategic point: it is largely futile to spend our energy trying to persuade or debate those at either extreme. Nobody at the tips is being persuaded by our arguments, and every hour spent trying is an hour not spent where it counts.

Where it can be made is in the broad middle.

Most Americans are neither extremists nor activists. They are decent people who have not fully grasped how serious this problem has become and have never been invited into the conversation. They are persuadable. They are morally serious. And they are waiting for someone they trust to tell them that this matters.

Why Faith Communities Are the Right Partners

If the goal is to reach the movable middle of America, faith-based communities led by allied faith leaders are close to an ideal vehicle. According to a 2026 Gallup poll, roughly 40% of Americans attend a house of worship at least once a month. That represents millions of people who gather regularly to hear trusted moral guidance from leaders they know personally. 

And the scale is real. America is home to approximately 78 million Evangelical Christians, 65 million Catholics, and 30 million non-Evangelical Protestants. Even if only a small percentage of those congregations became active allies, their collective influence would far exceed anything the Jewish community could generate through institutional advocacy alone. 

This is precisely why clergy matter.

When a rabbi condemns antisemitism, people often hear a community defending itself. When a priest, pastor, minister, or other faith leader delivers that same message, people hear a moral obligation directed toward their own community. The messenger changes the impact of the message.

Why This Fight Matters — Beyond Us

The core argument for standing up to antisemitism is simple: it’s wrong. That should be sufficient on its own, and for people of genuine conscience, it is.

But there’s a second argument, and it’s one that speaks directly to why this is everyone’s fight, not just ours. Antisemitism functions as a canary in the coal mine for the health of a society. Historically, when a nation begins to tolerate, or even worse, reward, hatred of its Jewish population, that tolerance rarely stays contained. It tends to be an early sign of eroding democratic norms, rising authoritarian instinct, and a broader willingness to scapegoat minorities generally. A country that lets antisemitism become politically advantageous is a country already loosening its grip on the values that protect everyone else too. We are seeing this in our society today. Those promoting antisemitic and anti-Zionist tropes are also promoting anti-American tropes as well. They are stifling free speech, promoting dangerous conspiracy theories and lies, and using it as an excuse to break down societal norms of behavior.

That is the case for allied faith leaders. This isn’t charity toward Jews. It’s an investment in the health of their own country and the safety and well-being of their own constituents.

A Word to My Fellow Jews

I understand the instinct among many Jews to feel uncomfortable, even distrustful, extending our hand to Christians. That discomfort has history behind it. There have been centuries of persecution carried out in the name of the Church.

But it is also not 1965 anymore. That year, the Second Vatican Council’s Nostra Aetate marked a real turning point in Catholic teaching on the Jewish people, and in the six decades since, Christian-Jewish dialogue has made significant, tangible inroads. These inroads have kept deepening, including invaluable partnerships such as joint advocacy for private schools. While our caution to put our hands out to our Christian neighbors is founded, at this point it should not diminish into a reflex that keeps us from recognizing the friends standing in front of us today.

Rome Is Burning. The Time Is Now.

Here is the plain truth. We are at a moment where Jews must reach out to anyone willing to be our friend. Not only to the constituencies that are the most natural fit, or the most convenient, or the most familiar, but  to anyone who is sincerely willing to stand with us. We need them now. This is not the moment for excessive pickiness about theology or politics among people who are actually offering to help.

And Orthodox rabbis in particular have a great deal in common with Catholics and Evangelical Christians, including a shared seriousness about scripture, tradition, family, and religious life in the public square. These factors make those relationships easier to build and sustain than one might expect from the outside.

Similarly, rabbis from the Reform, Conservative, and Reconstructionist movements often find natural partners among many mainline Protestant clergy. These communities frequently share a commitment to social responsibility and civic engagement. Those common values provide a strong foundation for building relationships and mobilizing congregations to confront antisemitism together.  

For all the value of a national push, most interfaith work actually happens on the local level. That is precisely why it falls to us, and especially to rabbis, to reach out to our local allied faith leaders directly. A national campaign can open doors and set a tone, but it’s the relationship between a rabbi and the pastor down the street that actually gets a sermon delivered on a given Sunday. It is these local relationships that transform goodwill into action. 

We are not trying to win over the horseshoe’s edges. We are trying to give the good people in the middle, the tens of millions who fill those pews every month, a reason, a voice, and a moment to say, from a pulpit that isn’t ours, that hatred of Jews is beneath the country we all love.

So if you are a Rabbi, call the pastor or priest down the street. If you have religious Christian neighbors or coworkers, ask them to speak to their Religious Leaders about speaking out. Open the conversation and provide an invitation to say plainly that hatred of Jews has no place in our community. 

The friendships we build today may become the strongest defense of Diaspora Jewish life tomorrow. 

Rabbi Ira Ebbin is the founder of For the Sake of My Kindred and Friends, an interfaith initiative dedicated to mobilizing allied faith leaders in the fight against antisemitism. For more information or to become involved, contact rabbiebbin@ohav.org.