MAKE RELIGIOUS TOLERANCE GREAT AGAIN! Understanding Antisemitism To counter antisemitism, one must understand it. AJC's State of Antisemitism in America 2024 Report revealed that almost one-third (30%) of Americans are not even familiar with what antisemitism is. First, to understand the hatred of Jews, one needs to know who Jews are. AJC's Call to Action Against Antisemitism - A Society-Wide Nonpartisan Guide for America - Learn More Share This Who are Jews? Jews account for 0.2% of the world’s population—only 15.7 million people. The largest Jewish community in the world is in Israel, with over 7 million Jews. In the United States, there are 6.3 million Jews, accounting for only 2.4% of the population. Jews are more than a religious group: They reflect diverse ethnic, racial, and national characteristics while exhibiting a strong sense of group identity. Jews have continuously lived in the land of Israel since Biblical times, and today half of the world’s Jewish population are citizens of the State of Israel. Jews span the full political and socio-economic spectrum. The Jewish people include Ashkenazi Jews descended from Eastern Europe, Black Jews from Ethiopia, Brown Jews from India, and Mizrahi and Sephardi Jews from North Africa, the Middle East, Turkey, and Iran. Jews by choice (those who convert to Judaism) add to this diversity. Given this diversity, characterizing Jews as only “white” and “privileged” ignores history and present reality. What is antisemitism? For governments, law enforcement agencies, and others who have a practical need to identify and respond to antisemitism, the best tool is the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance (IHRA) Working Definition of Antisemitism, which defines antisemitism as “a certain perception of Jews, which may be expressed as hatred toward Jews.” It also includes practical examples to determine whether something is antisemitic, such as discrimination and hatred of Jews, conspiracy theories, Holocaust denial and distortion, and antisemitism related to Israel. Internationally recognized as the authoritative definition, the IHRA Working Definition has been adopted by more than 1,000 bodies, including more than 40 countries and multilateral organizations such as the European Union and the Organization of American States. It informs the U.S. State Department’s work on global antisemitism and guides the U.S. Department of Education efforts to address antisemitism on college campuses. Scores of universities, sports teams and leagues, states, and local governments have formally adopted it. Where does antisemitism come from? Antisemitism is often described as the world’s oldest hatred. The historical foundation of antisemitism is Christian anti-Judaism, in which Jews were accused of killing Jesus Christ (deicide charge), kidnapping and murdering Christian children to use their blood in rituals (blood libel), and spreading the Black Plague through common drinking wells (“poisoning the well”). As European Jews were emancipated in the 19th and 20th centuries, they continued to be blamed for “why things went wrong.” Nefarious publications such as the fictitious Protocols of the Elders of Zion, centered on invented conspiracies of Jewish power, wealth, and plots to control governments and economies. The myth of Jewish control also featured heavily in Nazi propaganda, which viewed Jews as racially impure and the cause of society’s ills. In modern times, antisemitism against the Jewish collective continues to manifest as hatred against the Jewish state, Israel, or when Israel is viewed as the source of evil in the world, in the same ways antisemites viewed Jews historically. The sustained antisemitism American Jewish communities have experienced over the past several years, while part of a global rise, has distinctive American elements and must be addressed within an American historical context. In the United States, while antisemitic episodes can be traced back to the arrival of Jews in America in the 17th and 18th centuries, with a particular spike following increased Jewish immigration during the turn of the 20th century, contemporary antisemitism in the U.S. looks different.1 Today, there are many sources making it difficult to pinpoint: antisemitism stems from the far-right, including white supremacy, white nationalism, and neo-Nazi antisemitism; the far-left, arising from identity-based politics or anti-Israel antisemitism, including denying Israel’s right to exist; religious extremism, including Islamist extremism and factions of some religious sects such as Black Hebrew Israelites and Nation of Islam; and from segments of minority communities, whether as a form of scapegoating or seeing Jews as an outgroup or a competitive threat, including competition of victimhood. AJC’s Translate Hate glossary includes tropes and phrases that are reused and recycled, often unknowingly. More information on the origins of antisemitism is available here. Is criticism of Israel antisemitic? Political protest is an essential part of democracy, and criticism of Israel similar to that leveled against any other country is legitimate. However, it is antisemitic to target or attack Jews and Jewish institutions as a response to Israeli policies or actions. Across the globe, particularly since Hamas’ attacks against Israel on October 7, 2023, antisemitic incidents are occurring at an alarmingly high frequency and with a broad geographic reach. Anti-Jewish hate has surged roughly 400% in the U.S. since October 7, on top of already heightened figures. These examples—which occurred amidst and after Hamas’ horrific terrorist attacks on October 7, 2023, and the subsequent war—show when anti-Israel statements and actions are antisemitic.

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ALL THOSE BRUISES HEAL AND LEAVE INVISIBLE HEARTS: THE ARK WITHIN Beyond fight or flight: Building spiritual stamina in the face of antisemitism By Rabbi Miriam Margles Rabbi Jonathan Kligler February 19, 2026 Share Facebook Twitter Email Print Friendly, PDF & Email Add EJP on Google Over the past two years, being a Jew in the world has required a kind of spiritual stamina that few of us were fully prepared for. Since the terror of Oct. 7, 2023 and the ensuing war in Israel and Gaza, we have been navigating a rising tide of antisemitism. Jews, Jewish communities and Jewish institutions have been the target of violence, demonization, isolation and denial. As a result, many Jews are swimming, perhaps even drowning, in fear, despair, rage and a profound sense of isolation. But for Jewish clergy, educators and organizational leaders, the burden is doubled. They are being asked to hold the heartbreak and fury of their communities while they themselves are struggling. Malte Mueller/Getty Images In our work with Jewish leaders across North America, many describe being overwhelmed by the dangers and demands of this moment. They feel stretched thin, tasked with guiding others without the time or support to notice and sort out their own intense, often conflicting feelings. They find themselves attempting to straddle widening gulfs as the world polarizes and as fellow Jews turn harshly on one another. While resources on combating antisemitism abound, not enough of them help leaders understand and address antisemitism’s internal impact on Jews: how centuries of systemic oppression have scarred us in ways that make us reactive, angry and fearful. This historic and ongoing persecution has primed Jews and Jewish communities to react to real or perceived threats out of ancestral trauma rather than respond with wise discernment. To lead effectively today, Jewish leaders need more than political strategy. We need safe spaces in which we can examine our fears, educate ourselves about the effects of trauma and receive spiritual and emotional support to lead with courage and clarity. The inner flood The 20th century Hasidic sage Rabbi Shalom Noah Berezovsky, known also by the name of his work Netivot Shalom, offers a striking interpretation of the biblical flood that speaks directly to this moment. Rabbi Berezovsky notes that the Hebrew word for flood, mabul, shares a root with bilbul, confusion. He teaches that the waters of chaos and violence inundating the world also stir a torrent of confusion within us. This bilbul ha-da’at, a distorted, unsettled consciousness, is “the root of all harm.” When our inner world is overwhelmed by the storms outside, the threat of danger can make it very difficult to think clearly and act in alignment with our values. But he offers an antidote: yishuv ha-da’at, the practice of settling the mind. He suggests that when we face a flood of chaos, we should build an “inner ark.” This is an inner space of steadiness, where we connect with our holy vitality (chayyut), and ground ourselves so we can ride the waves rather than be thrown by them. Only when our inner waters are calm can we discern what is true and act with integrity. Pausing for mindful awareness is not a luxury; it is a strategic necessity. Four patterns of reactivity When we don’t have that inner ark, our trauma responses take over. In our work at the Institute for Jewish Spirituality (IJS), we have identified four common patterns among Jews when safety and belonging are threatened: 1.) Urgency and hypervigilance: When we’re afraid, we tend to either freeze or leap into action. “Fight-or-flight” reactions are valuable when one is in immediate danger, but the grip of terror is exhausting and debilitating, and action driven by panic is usually counter-productive and/or ultimately ineffective. 2.) Over-reliance on physical security measures: We must be vigilant about physical safety. But when our attention focuses only on the external — guards, barricades, surveillance — we neglect our inner sources of grounding and trust. True resilience requires us to confront our vulnerability and develop a trust that doesn’t only depend on external conditions. We can draw strength from the company of others striving to be mindful and self-aware, and we can gain perspective and wisdom from our ancient Jewish tradition. 3.) Choosing sides instead of building bridges: As David Nirenberg, Dara Horn and others have shown, antisemitism targets Jews as the embodiment of what society abhors, the very source of “the problem.” That blame is unconsciously internalized and we redirect it toward one another. We run for cover in polarized camps and position ourselves as the “good kind of Jew” while attacking other Jews as “the problem” — the ones who are dangerous and shouldn’t exist. This intra-Jewish violence fractures our community precisely when we need greater cohesion. 4.) Grievance over grief: Beneath our legitimate grievances lies unacknowledged grief. We often focus on outrage, listing how we have been wronged or abandoned, because holding onto our grievances feels safer than touching our sorrow. But the truth is that grievances grip our hearts closed, trapping us in a cycle of injury and indignation. The path forward Recognizing these dynamics, IJS developed a new approach: mindful Jewish leadership in the face of antisemitism. Our approach doesn’t train leaders in public messaging or advocacy; those resources exist elsewhere. Instead, our goal is to support Jewish leaders by helping them to gently and lovingly address the deep, difficult and often painful dynamics within themselves and within their Jewish communities. We use a deeply Jewish framework for building that inner ark, and we fuse that with trauma-informed mindfulness practices. We also offer time and non-judgemental space for leaders to speak about and sort out the challenges they have been facing. This helps leaders recognize when they are operating from historical trauma, and gives them the tools to choose a different response. As a result, they’re able to guide their communities with less reactivity and more wisdom. They can then support their communities to follow this path. In the last year we have run pilot cohorts in Toronto and Chicago and nationally online. The results have been profound. Participants said that the training enabled them to more effectively engage in and lead difficult conversations again, even on the most charged topics. They were also able to model kind and clear communication in both public and private interactions. They were able to notice when they were agitated and now had the skills and tools to settle themselves and restore inner balance. As one participant noted, “I finally feel like I have a choice about how I show up.” Mindfulness is not about passivity; it is about presence. To cultivate yishuv ha-da’at is to reclaim our ability to choose actions rooted in insight rather than panic. It allows us to build communities where grief is met with compassion, and where leaders are supported to lead rather than be constantly criticized and attacked. In a time when antisemitism seeks to make us small, frightened and reactive, cultivating a clear mind and an open heart is a radical act. We have the choice, breath by breath, to respond not just with discipline, but with devotion to becoming ever wiser, more agile and better prepared. Jews are rightly concerned about antisemitism. As our communities allocate precious time and resources to this challenge, let’s remember that hardening our exterior defenses can do only so much. In the midst of the storm, we need mindful, wise and courageous leadership to guide the Jewish people. Together we can build an ark to carry us through our turbulent and dangerous times. Rabbi Miriam Margles is a member of the senior core faculty at the Institute for Jewish Spirituality, where she directs the Mindful Jewish Leadership in the Face of Antisemitism initiative. Rabbi Jonathan Kligler is rabbi emeritus at the Woodstock Jewish Congregation in Woodstock, N.Y., and adjunct faculty at the Institute for Jewish Spirituality.