The conflict between Israel and Hamas, which intensified after the October 7 terrorist attacks, sparked a noticeable rise in antisemitism across many countries. In several places, actions attributed to Israeli military retaliation in Gaza were viewed as disproportionate, leading to broad sympathy for Palestinians and criticism of Israeli policy.
The discussion does not dwell on scattered antisemitic protests or violence. Those events are scattered across the internet for anyone who seeks them. Meanwhile, in Russia, battles in Muslim-majority regions like Dagestan drew attention when rumors about refugees from Israel allegedly spurred a mob to attack Makhachkala’s airport, illustrating how fear and rumor can trigger violence in diverse contexts.
From an external perspective, the question arises: why do Jewish communities evoke such forceful responses in some societies? Do other nations not, at times, display greater restraint and humanity in similar situations?
For instance, during the same period, officials in Pakistan carried out large-scale deportations of Afghan refugees to Afghanistan, bringing them under Taliban control in some cases. The fate of those subjected to expulsion, and how they are received back home, remains a pressing concern. The figure of 1.7 million people, approximately the size of Gaza’s population, underscores the scale. Earlier displacements, such as those of more than 100,000 Armenians from Nagorno-Karabakh, were similarly met with global indifference.
With accessible online information, observers can see how regions with long-standing conflicts and intense religious overtones interact with rising radicalism. This context helps explain why harsh anti-Israeli reactions have appeared in some Arab countries in recent years, even as complex histories and ongoing disputes continue to shape regional opinions.
However, the prospect of anti-Semitism spreading widely to American college campuses would require the erosion of social norms around political correctness to an alarming degree. The postwar period in Germany saw a sharp rise in anti-Semitic incidents, despite the era’s reputation for overcoming such hatred. Some observers note the appearance of anti-Israel cartoons in creative forms even in places far removed from the Middle East, raising questions about the reach and persistence of anti-Jewish tropes across global cultures.
Antisemitism has deep roots in Western cultural history, sustaining in Christian contexts long after medieval times. Its resurgence can be seen, in part, as a relic of earlier eras arguing against perceived modernity by linking religion or nationalism to hatred and exclusion.
The charge that Jews bore collective guilt for the death of Jesus was a dominant thread in early Christian thought. Passages in scriptures, including the Gospel of Matthew with the infamous line about blood guilt, fueled accusations that persisted for centuries. The Gospel of John also contributed to portraying Jews in a negative light through symbolic language referring to darkness and evil. These strands shaped attitudes during the Middle Ages and beyond.
When Pope Urban II called for the Crusades in 1095, Christian rhetoric often reinforced the image of Jews as opponents to be driven from society, fueling centuries of discrimination. In many European regions, Jews faced legal exclusion from citizenship, limits on public office, and professional barriers. In some places, forced separation led to ghettos that echoed later desolate practices seen in later periods, including the Nazi era. Ritual accusations and blood libels, though historically debunked, persisted in popular imagination and harmful stereotypes endured in various forms.
In several countries, Jews were compelled to wear markers or badges, a practice that mirrored the discriminatory policies once seen in Nazi Germany. Deportations and forced relocation occurred in France, Spain, Portugal, and the German principalities, with ghettos persisting in Italy until the 1870s. The plague era intensified rumor and fear, sometimes culminating in conspiracy theories about well-poisoning by Jewish communities, a stereotype that linked to broader social marginalization and persecution.
As Europe modernized, it learned new hygiene practices from other cultures, including Muslims during times of conflict. Yet these exchanges did not immediately translate into equality for Jewish communities; monarchs and elites often resisted full inclusion for long periods, reflecting broader social hierarchies that delayed reform.
The Protestant Reformation, led by figures like Martin Luther, marked a turning point in religious thought but did not bring about reconciliation with Jews. Luther’s harsh calls against Jews are well documented, and their long shadow has colored Christian-Jewish relations for centuries. Over time, official church positions began to shift, culminating in the Second Vatican Council’s 1965 declaration that rejected collective Jewish guilt for Jesus’ death. Despite doctrinal changes across denominations, societal attitudes persisted in various forms.
The Enlightenment’s push toward secular governance and questions of religious tolerance produced new opportunities and challenges. As nationalist movements rose in Europe, the emergence of Zionism and the expansion of modernization altered the political landscape for Jewish communities. The distribution of the so-called Protocols of the Elders of Zion, a forged document alleging a Jewish conspiracy to dominate world affairs, spread widely in multiple languages, fueling anti-Semitic sentiment despite being exposed as a forgery in later investigations. The Times of London and other outlets highlighted that this text copied earlier satirical critiques, yet the impact on public perception endured beyond the initial revelations.
Disinformation about Jewish influence proved to have staying power, even as credible voices contested it. The manipulative power of a single, persistent claim showed why propaganda could outlive refutations and continue to shape attitudes, especially when echoed by influential figures and media outlets. The resilience of such myths demonstrates why misinformation remains a significant factor in how antisemitism migrates through cultures and generations.
In Russia, antisemitic currents have a long history that intersects with religious debates, cultural nationalism, and state policy. Early religious scholars and later political rivals navigated tensions that culminated in waves of violence and discrimination. The era of exploitation and restriction in imperial times, followed by state-sanctioned prejudice in the late imperial and Soviet periods, left a complicated legacy. Though the collapse of the Soviet Union reduced many openly discriminatory laws, vestiges persisted in social attitudes and limited opportunities for Jewish communities, illustrating how prejudice can outlive formal policy.
Today, the question remains how societies address inherited biases while confronting new forms of hostility born from conflict, fear, and misinformation. The historical record emphasizes the danger of allowing stereotypes to harden into policy, social practice, or violence. Awareness, education, and principled leadership are essential to prevent the normalization of antisemitism in any era or region.