Dear Friends,
The Anti-Defamation League (ADL) recently released its annual Audit of Antisemitic Incidents—and it isn’t good news. Unsurprisingly, the report revealed a record-high 9,354 antisemitic acts in the United States during 2024. This represents a 5% increase from 2023 and an 893% surge over the past decade, marking the highest level recorded since the ADL began tracking such data in 1979.
The reported incidents encompassed assaults, harassment, and vandalism. Sadly, while the number of incidents increased nationwide, the highest number occurred in New York, California, and New Jersey. (In compiling the report, ADL identified narratives equating Zionism with Nazism or glorifying violence as crossing the line into hate speech while also emphasizing the importance of distinguishing between legitimate criticism of Israeli policies and antisemitism.)
Reading the report yesterday, on Holocaust Memorial Day no less, I could not help but think back to an experience I had during my third year of rabbinic studies; as one of my work experiences that year, I served as a Teaching Assistant for a course on Ethics and the Holocaust. It was a fascinating class. The syllabus included the troubling book, The Mismeasure of Man, which explains how genetics research undertaken at American universities was employed by the Nazis to justify genocide.
Toward the end of the semester, one of the students raised his hand and asked, “So in light of everything we have learned, when we look at how morally agnostic scientific research has been misused by those seeking to destroy, and how pervasive and entrenched Jew-hatred was in European society, do you think a Holocaust could happen here?”
I told him no, I did not think it could happen here, and went on to explain that America did not have the same socially-engraved hatred of Jews that Europe did, and that our government is structured in such a manner as to protect the most vulnerable in society.
I still believe the latter point regarding the government, but as we see the rapid mainstreaming of hatred toward our community (just listen to a few episodes of Joe Rogan’s Podcast), I’m no longer convinced I was correct about American society. Yes, the “oldest hatred” seems alive and well.
The question, of course, is what we can and should do about it. Indeed, we need to continue speaking out. Of course, we need to strengthen organizations like the ADL and AJC, which push back on the hate with a voice and platform far larger than we might otherwise have. And it is incumbent upon us to demand our elected leadership take steps to protect us and all vulnerable minorities.
But I’m also reminded of 19th-century Lithuanian Rabbi Israel Salanter’s teaching. Considered to be the founder of the Musar movement, he taught,
“When I was young, I wanted to change the world. But I found it difficult to change the world, so I tried to change my country. When I couldn’t change my country, I began focusing on my community. However, I discovered that I couldn’t change the community, and so, as I grew older, I tried to change my family. Now, as an older man, I realize the only thing I can change is myself, but I’ve come to recognize that if I had started with myself long ago, I could have impacted my family. My family and I could have made an impact on our community. And that, in turn, could have changed the country, and we could all indeed have changed the world.”
If Rabbi Salanter were alive today, I suspect he would say something like this.
“We can’t alter the ugliness and hatred in someone’s heart any more than I could change the world. However, that doesn’t mean we’re powerless. If we begin with ourselves and establish strong, knowledgeable, and committed communities, there will be less room for the haters to harm us. And who knows the impact we might have along the way?”
That is our task: to speak out, to stand together, and to ensure that the one things we absolutely CAN control, the strength and vitality of our community, are a top priority.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Daniel Cohen