Two years ago, I received a phone call. The woman identified herself as the executive editor of Oxford University Press. She asked if I’d be interested in writing a book on antisemitism for the publisher’s “What Everyone Needs to Know” series. I was sure it was a prank call. Perhaps one of my daughters-in-law or granddaughters. After all, I had long believed that calls like this only happen in dreamworlds.

I was wrong. It was legitimate. The aim, I was told, was to reach the widest possible audience. This was not to be a scholar writing to impress a few other scholars and entering into often arcane debates about who did what to whom ten centuries ago.

The opportunity was too good to pass up; however, the need for such a book at this time was, frankly, dispiriting.

Life-threatening

Alas, my life had, in a way, prepared me to write a hands-on volume, both descriptive and prescriptive. After all, the three people closest to me had been victims of life-threatening antisemitism from its three main sources – the far Left, far Right, and jihadist.

My mother experienced it first in the Soviet Union under Stalinist rule, then as a refugee in France after Nazi Germany invaded and enlisted the Vichy as collaborators in rounding up and deporting Jews.

My father, as an 18-year-old, escaped Austria after the Anschluss in 1938, but continued to be a target of the Nazis in Europe and North Africa until the war’s end seven years later.

And my wife, as a teenager, together with her parents and seven siblings, was a survivor of pogroms in her native Libya, until they found eventual refuge in Italy and Israel.

These three individuals didn’t have doctorates on antisemitism from ivy-covered universities, but from hair-raising experiences. I could not have had better professors.

No cure

I spent five decades working in the Jewish world, much of it devoted to combating antisemitism in the United States and around the world.

So, I thought I was reasonably well-prepared to undertake the book assignment. But there was one aspect that I wasn’t entirely ready for – the emotional weight of long, lonely hours spent every day for two years grappling with the magnitude, resilience, ingenuity, and human cost of literally thousands of years of Jew-hatred.

Also the fact that antisemitism has once again proved its durability, its shape-shifting forms, its deeply-rooted emplacement in culture and a consciousness that is not about to disappear anytime soon.

I understood that two features of antisemitism in particular highlight the ongoing challenges.

First, at its core, it’s an enduring conspiracy theory, which conveniently surfaces whenever ready-made, off-the-shelf explanations are needed.

Economic travails? Pandemics? Wars? Social or political malaise? Missing children? Political assassinations? Changes of weather? Blame the Jews. And centuries of conditioning make these otherwise groundless accusations instantly plausible to lots of people.

Second, antisemitism is endlessly elastic, allowing for glaring, irrational contradictions.

The political Left accuses Jews of capitalist greed, while the political Right blames Jews for anti-capitalist Marxism. The Left sees Jews as emblematic of white privilege, while the Right chants “Jews will not replace us,” fearing the “replacement” of white people. And on it goes.

Fuel to fire

And two other modern-day factors add fuel to the antisemitic fire.

The very existence of Israel allows those antisemites who wish to avoid the stigma – if such a stigma still exists anywhere in today’s world – of being labeled antisemites to channel their hatred through anti-Israelism and anti-Zionism.

No, not criticism of this or that Israeli government or policy, but the very fact of Israel’s existence

In doing so, notably, they rely on age-old antisemitic tropes about pure evil, unbridled malevolence, and the quest for control to cloak their language, all the while insisting that hatred of a nation – which just happens to be the only Jewish-majority nation on earth – is different than hatred of a people.

Moreover, social media has been a game-changer for antisemites. Once relegated to the far fringes of society in liberal democracies and with limited reach, they’ve gained extraordinary visibility at a time when many, particularly younger people, rely on social media platforms for their news and views, and may not be equipped with the filters to sort out who’s who and what’s what. This creates vast audiences for those peddling Holocaust denial, Jew-hatred, the latest conspiracy theories, and demonization of Israel as the devil incarnate.

Rethinking the playbook

At the end of the day, of course, the key question is what to do about all this. My book offers a number of thoughts.

To begin with, Jews need to understand this is not a temporary threat that will magically disappear if the ceasefire in Gaza somehow holds, or a new Israeli government takes office, or a different party rules in Washington.

No, this is an inflection point. Jews face danger because the gloves are off, the consequences for antisemitism are too few, Holocaust memory is fading, and rapidly changing populations in Western societies pose an array of previously unknown challenges.

That means rethinking the playbook, something too few Jewish advocacy organizations have successfully done since October 7 revealed what’s really at stake, who the bad actors are, and how abandoned the Jewish community felt as many of its putative allies were missing. Trying to put first-aid cream on skin cancer doesn’t begin to address the problem Jews today face.

Instead, it requires a deep dive into such urgent issues as foreign funding sources and trails, ideological penetration of schools and colleges, networks of front organizations for puppeteers like the Muslim Brotherhood, and algorithmic manipulations, as well as identifying potential new allies and, unquestionably, beefing up lawfare.

It also requires a swivel-headed approach that monitors and reacts with equal outrage to all sources of antisemitism, be it from the Left, the Right, or jihadists. And that insists on real-life consequences as well for violent acts of Jew-hatred, which until now have too often been ignored, downplayed, or rationalized.

Finally, the fight against antisemitism in the 21st century is not only a fight for Jewish safety and security. In reality, it is every bit as much a struggle for liberal democracy.

The Jews may be the first or most visible targets, but they’re far from alone. Just as Israel is not only defending itself but also the West, so are Jews a barometer of the well-being of liberal societies.

Helping others to see the common threat, the common danger – and acting in concerted partnership across racial, religious, ethnic, and partisan lines – holds out hope.

The stakes couldn’t be higher. Understanding antisemitism today in its multiple guises is essential. Taking a principled, unflinching, and unapologetic stance couldn’t be more urgent.■


David Harris is executive vice chair of the Institute for the Study of Global Antisemitism and Policy (ISGAP). He is the author of “Antisemitism: What Everyone Needs to Know” (Oxford University Press, 2025).