In cities across Europe and beyond, ancient hatred has found new language, new platforms, and a disturbingly wide audience. It has become acceptable in certain circles to celebrate brutality, deny Jewish suffering, and weaponize misinformation with breathtaking confidence.
For Jews in Europe, none of this has arrived in a vacuum. We have already navigated life with caution for many years – security guards at schools, police in front of synagogues, and uncertainty about wearing visible Jewish symbols. But since October 7, 2023, the world has witnessed a surge of antisemitism unlike anything seen in decades.
It has erupted not only in regions historically hostile to Jews but also in capitals of liberal democracies, in London, Paris, and Berlin. Jewish students have been barricaded in classrooms. Jewish businesses and artists are being boycotted. Jewish communities have been warned not to appear “too identifiable.” And most shockingly: the burden of proof has been placed on Jews themselves. Once again, we have been asked to justify our grief.
That victims of a massacre were not believed, perpetrators and victims are being reversed, and that the world failed to stand firmly and unequivocally against terrorism reveals a profound moral rupture. The privileged Western civilization has not understood till this day that Israel stands at the front line of the free world, fighting for the democratic order that protects us all.
This inversion is not new. But the speed and shamelessness with which it spread after October 7 should alarm anyone who cares about democratic values. And yet, despite this bleak landscape, something else has become equally clear: this is not a time for Jewish invisibility; it is a time for Jewish confidence.
The world’s oldest hate has found a new audience
Too often, European societies still hold a narrow, outdated image of what a Jew “looks like” or “should be.” But Jews are not a museum exhibit or a monochrome identity. Jewish life contains multitudes: secular and religious, left and right, immigrants and natives, artists and engineers, Mizrahi, Ashkenazi, Ethiopian, Russian, American, French, and German.
We debate, disagree, interpret, and reinterpret – that is the essence of Jewish tradition. Our culture thrives on plurality, not uniformity.
And it is precisely this vibrant reality that antisemitism tries to erase. Antisemitism has never been about who Jews actually are. It is about what others project onto us: from medieval blood libels to today’s libels against Israel, from myths of “greedy Jews” to conspiracies about “global Jewish control.”
The words change, the platforms change, and the political colors change, but the logic remains: blame the Jew.
But here is the truth Europe must confront: antisemitism begins with Jews, but it never ends with Jews. It corrodes the very foundations of liberal society. Where antisemitism rises, the rule of law weakens, extremism flourishes, and democracy itself is at risk.
This is why Jewish visibility matters now more than ever. Not because we seek sympathy. Not because we want to be exoticized or frozen in historical trauma. But because hiding has never protected us and never will. The world has always struggled with Jews who are resilient, confident, and unwilling to disappear. That is precisely why we must stand tall.
Our identities, like all identities, are mosaics. I am Jewish, European, a woman, politically engaged, and shaped by migration. None of these pieces cancel out the others. They coexist. They make me whole. And I refuse to be reduced to a symbol or a stereotype.
The future of Jewish life in Europe depends on two parallel commitments: societies must take antisemitism seriously, not only on memorial days, but every day, and Jews must refuse to shrink in response to hatred. Confidence is not arrogance. Visibility is not provocation. Solidarity is not optional.
If history has taught us anything, it is this: we will not wait for permission to exist. We will not depend on others to define our safety. And we will never again apologize for being Jewish.
The writer is a Jewish political activist in Germany and a Masa Changemaker.