Much of the Jewish community in the United States lives in a state of fear. That fear is real. That fear is debilitating. The fear began before October 7; however, ever since October 7, it has grown, morphed, and taken on new and heightened proportions.
The fear is multi-level. It is both a collective fear and an individual fear.
Schools, synagogues, and Jewish organizations are especially thinking about the safety of their institutions, their students, and their members when planning programs, trips, activities, and large community events. Parents ask questions they never asked before, questions they never imagined they would ever need to ask. How safe a program will this be? Is it safe to attend? What security measures are in place?
Most dramatically of all, parents are questioning whether their children – and they themselves, should outwardly display the Jewishness they once so proudly and so casually wore. Should the Star of David necklace, presented as a graduation gift from a loving grandparent, still be worn outside? Should a baseball cap replace a kippah in public? Should ritual fringes be shoved inside and no longer be allowed to dangle freely for all to see? Should our dress be obviously less Jewish?
This fear, which simmered below the surface, exploded as a product of the campus encampments that embraced the October 7 Hamas massacre. The rallies throughout the United States in support of murderers, rapists, and baby killers – rallies that attracted people once considered to be friendly classmates, neighbors, and co-workers – have triggered fear in Jews across the United States.
Psychologically, fear is a perceived threat. It does not have to be real. It is the perception that is important. That is why so many students had difficulty concentrating and learning, knowing that pro-Hamas encampments were on their campuses. For the first time, Jewish students were exposed to virulent anti-Jewish attitudes and were afraid. They heard the shouts, saw the posters, and were eyewitnesses to pro-Hamas demonstrators calling for their deaths and the deaths of their family members.
Living in fear is debilitating. It saps energy and creativity. It becomes nearly impossible to make sophisticated, nuanced, decisions. In conditions of fear, the normal psychological response is fight or flight.
Bolder antisemitic attacks
OVER THE past few weeks, as attacks in the heart of New York’s Jewish neighborhoods have become bolder, many have asked my advice about safety and fear.
I explain that yes, recently Jews have become open targets. One of the obscene successes that Hamas achieved on October 7 is the fuel they fed to haters of Jews. Just like Hamas, Jew-haters have become emboldened. They take over buildings. They graffiti and deface property. They burn and stomp on blue and white Israeli flags. They block traffic and prevent public passage. They shout threats and post them online. They do it all almost always with impunity.
The Hamas massacre of October 7 has given voice to some of the most vile, anti-democratic, anti-American expressions, and that list includes deep-seated, anti-Jewish hate.
This needs to change. There must be consequences for violating laws and policies – changes on campus and on the city, state, and federal levels.
I explain to people that for Jews and lovers of Israel, this needs to be a teaching moment; that despite the threats, we must remain proud of our Judaism and of Israel.
We know that Israel is fighting a defensive war. We know that nuance is gone and there is, instead, a strange blurring of pro-Hamas and pro-Palestinian rhetoric and that their message is all pro-Hamas. We must remain strong and steady as a two-state solution evolves into their solution – a state without Israel.
We must embrace who we are as Jews and lovers of Israel. Girded with that pride, we must face the threats, real and perceived, stand our ground, take back the campuses, and reinstall real justice for the quiet masses. We must return to normalcy, to a place where our students’ rights and the rights of all Jews are preserved.
It must be done. Star of David necklaces may be tucked inside clothing, but not the “dog-tag” necklaces for those kidnapped by Hamas. Those necklaces are being boldly worn as a sign of pride and Jewish identity. They are a secret language, a sign of understanding and recognition, silently spoken by lovers of Israel.
Israel is a nation of builders, of creators. Just as the State of Israel is now rebuilding, so, too must the Jewish people and lovers of Israel outside the borders of the Land of Israel rebuild.
It is not an easy task, it is an essential task. Despite the pain and fear, it must be done. And because of that effort, our tomorrows will be better and our days will be brighter.
The writer is a social and political commentator. Watch his TV show 'Thinking Out Loud' on the Jewish Broadcasting Service.