British teens placed pictures of Israeli hostages seized by Hamas on the train tracks leading to Auschwitz-Birkenau, the notorious Nazi death camp. Photo: JRoots

The banner proclaiming “Palestine: the victory of the oppressed people over Nazi Zionism,”  was prominently displayed behind Hamas terrorists as they forced hostage Naama Levy — whose pants were bloodied at the time of her capture — to smile in an army uniform. The goal of this image is clear: to “Nazify” Israel, whitewash Hamas’ crimes, and invert the roles of victims and oppressors. This is the essence of the Iran-backed terror group’s propaganda.

This is not merely an act of cruelty and humiliation; it is a calculated political message, designed to invert historical roles: Israel as the modern-day Third Reich, and Zionism as its ideology.

But Hamas is not alone in spreading this message. It is part of a long-standing antisemitic propaganda campaign that has gained renewed traction far beyond Gaza.

On American college campuses, in activist circles, and across social media, this rhetoric finds eager amplifiers: “Israelis are Nazis,” “Israel is genocide,” “Hamas is resistance.” Pseudo-human rights organizations, pseudo-anti-racists, and pseudo-feminists echo these slogans. At the same time, these voices remain disturbingly silent about the mass rapes, murders, and kidnappings carried out by Hamas on October 7. Their hypocrisy speaks volumes about their supposed commitment to justice and human rights.

These comparisons are not simply misguided or exaggerated; they have a double-edged effect. On one hand, they trivialize the Nazi atrocities by equating them with a contemporary conflict, tragic as it may be, that differs fundamentally in purpose and scope. On the other, they invert historical roles, casting Jews — victims of an unparalleled genocide — as today’s oppressors. This shift doesn’t necessarily deny the Holocaust outright, but distorts its meaning, drains it of its uniqueness, and repurposes it as a malleable ideological tool. The result is an assault on memory itself — on its ability to prevent the resurgence of hatred and, most urgently, the rising antisemitism witnessed since October 7, 2023.

The accusations of genocide directed at Israel are not new. They trace back to Yasser Arafat and Soviet propaganda in the 1970s, gaining momentum with each flare-up in Gaza. These claims rely on a deliberate distortion of historical facts. The Holocaust was a systematic and industrialized campaign of extermination, carried out in secrecy to annihilate an entire people. Gaza, despite its immense suffering and devastation, is the scene of a conflict between a terrorist group and a sovereign military — not an extermination effort. Comparing Gaza to Auschwitz distorts history and reduces the Holocaust to a vague, manipulable idea, undermining its status as a universal moral anchor.

This confusion does more than undermine the past; it undermines the present. The legal mechanisms designed to prevent genocide lose their potency when misused in this way. Raphaël Lemkin, who coined the term “genocide,” emphasized its specificity: the deliberate, systematic destruction of a group. By conflating the horrors of asymmetrical warfare with organized genocide, we blur the critical distinction between war and extermination. This misapplication of language is not just a semantic issue; it is a moral failure.

The issue doesn’t end with hashtags or protest slogans. It reaches the highest levels of political discourse. In 2014, Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan accused Israel of “surpassing the Nazis in its barbarity” during Operation Protective Edge. In 2022, Mahmoud Abbas claimed Israel had committed “fifty holocausts,” and made these remarks in Berlin — the very city where the Holocaust was meticulously planned.

These statements are more than rhetorical flourishes; they trivialize the Holocaust and weaponize its memory against Israel — and, by extension, against Jews worldwide.

Why this fixation? Part of the answer lies in a broader effort to reshape the moral foundations of the postwar order. For decades, the Holocaust served as a cornerstone of postwar ethics, justifying the establishment of Israel and supporting universal human rights. Yet some now seek to replace this foundation with a new paradigm: decolonization. In this narrative, Israel is no longer the homeland of a persecuted people but the final vestige of colonialism. This reframing severs the historical connection between the Holocaust and Zionism, presenting Israel not as a resolution to Jewish history, but as a historical anomaly to be rectified.

Replacing the memory of the Holocaust with that of other struggles — even legitimate ones — poses a grave threat and betrays the spirit of “Never again,” which was meant as a universal call for vigilance, not as a pretext for contemporary hostility toward Jews. The danger of succumbing to this propaganda is not just the betrayal of historical memory, but its devastating real-world impact. The rise of antisemitism under the guise of political activism threatens the safety of Jewish communities worldwide, and chips away at the universal principles of justice and human rights.

If there is one lesson to be learned from the last 80 years, it is that antisemitism remains rife, though it now takes new forms. The latest version today hides behind the rhetoric of human rights and anti-colonialism. Israel is not the only target; Jews across the globe are under attack. Unless we confront this reality with clarity and determination, we risk allowing history to repeat itself.

Simone Rodan-Benzaquen is the Director of AJC Europe.