FBI agents work on the site after the Michigan State Police reported an active shooting incident at the Temple Israel Synagogue in West Bloomfield, Michigan, US, March 12, 2026. Photo: Rebecca Cook via Reuters Connect

I am a Jew, and I feel exhausted by antisemitism. How about you? Throughout my work in media, politics, advocacy, public speaking, and community engagement, I see Jews around the world who are exhausted from explaining antisemitism to people determined not to understand it.

We are asked to define it, contextualize it, debate it, dilute it, and sometimes even apologize for recognizing it. We are told anti-Zionism is entirely separate from antisemitism — until anti-Zionists celebrate violence against Jews or call for the complete destruction of the world’s only Jewish state.

We are told attacks against Jews are isolated incidents — until synagogues require armed guards, Jewish students hide their identities, and mobs openly glorify terrorism in Western streets. We are told this by those who justify their hate of Jews. We are told this by those who absorb the hateful narratives of those who hate Jews.

But beneath the slogans, hashtags, protests, and political theater lies a deeper question too few people are willing to confront: Why do societies become obsessed with Jews during moments of instability?

History suggests this obsession is rarely, if ever, actually about Jews.

Antisemitism has always functioned as something larger than prejudice against a minority group. It is often a warning sign of societal decay — a symptom of civilizations struggling with fear, uncertainty, tribalism, and the collapse of moral clarity. When societies begin obsessively defining Jews, blaming Jews, exceptionalizing Jews, or redefining hatred against Jews as acceptable, something deeper is usually unraveling beneath the surface.

The Jew becomes the symbol. The deeper crisis belongs to civilization itself.

That is why antisemitism evolves so fluidly across generations and ideologies. It adapts to the anxieties of the era. In one century, Jews are accused of controlling capitalism. In another, they are accused of orchestrating communism. Jews have been portrayed simultaneously as weak and dangerously powerful, rootless and controlling, isolated and globally connected.

The contradiction does not weaken antisemitism. The contradiction is the point.

Antisemitism is rarely rooted in logic. It is rooted in emotional utility. Antisemites need Jews to symbolize something larger than Jews themselves. Societies project onto Jews their fears about modernity, economics, identity, globalization, social change, or political instability.

And increasingly, Israel has become the collective Jew among nations.

This is why the vast majority of Jews reject the claim that anti-Zionism and antisemitism exist in entirely separate universes. Criticism of Israeli policy is legitimate, necessary, and normal within any democracy. Israelis themselves debate their government passionately every single day. But when anti-Zionism denies Jews the same right afforded to every other people — the right to self-determination, sovereignty, historical identity, indigenousness, and national security — the distinction begins collapsing under the weight of its own inconsistency.

When activists demand the dismantling of the world’s only Jewish state while defending nearly every other national movement on earth, Jews notice.

When terrorists who massacre Jewish civilians are romanticized as “resistance,” Jews notice.

When Jewish history is erased, Jewish indigeneity denied, and Jewish trauma dismissed as politically inconvenient, Jews notice.

And increasingly, many non-Jews are beginning to notice too.

The frightening reality is that modern antisemitism often disguises itself as virtue. It speaks the language of justice, liberation, human rights, and activism while selectively excluding Jews from the very protections these movements claim to defend universally. This selective morality is precisely what makes contemporary antisemitism so dangerous. Hatred wrapped in moral certainty becomes harder for societies to recognize — especially when acknowledging it threatens ideological comfort or political alliances.

At the same time, social media has accelerated these dynamics dramatically.

Algorithms reward outrage over nuance. Emotional performance increasingly matters more than factual accuracy. Complex geopolitical realities are flattened into simplistic binaries designed for virality rather than truth. People no longer encounter one another primarily as individuals, but as categories, avatars, tribes, and ideological labels.

Once human beings become abstractions, cruelty becomes easier.

That is why antisemitism is never only dangerous to Jews. Historically, it travels alongside authoritarianism, democratic decline, conspiracy culture, mob politics, intellectual cowardice, and moral collapse. A society willing to normalize hatred against Jews is usually a society already losing its grip on ethical consistency and objective truth.

This is also why the endless public debate over what “counts” as antisemitism matters so profoundly.

Too often, these conversations are not sincere intellectual exercises. They are negotiations over social permission. They are attempts to determine which forms of hatred remain acceptable when directed at Jews. Society generally accepts that marginalized communities can identify racism, sexism, homophobia, or other forms of bigotry directed against them. Yet when Jews identify antisemitism, many suddenly become skeptical, dismissive, or academically evasive.

The Jew once again becomes the exception.

But this conversation ultimately extends far beyond the Jewish community.

It is about whether societies still possess the moral clarity to recognize dehumanization before it metastasizes into violence. It is about whether democracies can survive when propaganda becomes more emotionally satisfying than truth. It is about whether human beings are still capable of independent thought in an age increasingly dominated by ideological tribalism and digital mob psychology.

Every generation likes to imagine it would have recognized the warning signs during history’s darkest chapters. But societal collapse rarely begins dramatically. It begins gradually — through rationalization, selective outrage, moral inconsistency, and the normalization of hatred disguised as righteousness.

Hatred rarely begins with violence.

It begins with permission.

The world is once again arguing about the Jews.

History suggests that when civilizations become consumed with Jews, they are often revealing something far more dangerous about themselves.

Yuval David is an Emmy Award–winning journalist, filmmaker, and actor. An internationally recognized advocate for Jewish and LGBT rights, he is a strategic advisor to diplomatic missions and NGOs, and a contributor to global news outlets in broadcast and print news. He focuses on combating antisemitism, extremism, and promoting democratic values and human dignity. Learn more at YuvalDavid.com, instagram.com/Yuval_David_, x.com/yuvaldavid, youtube.com/yuvaldavid, and across social media.