Submission by Joseph Menslage

Over the past year, acts of antisemitic violence have appeared in places that once felt safe. They have occurred in Western democracies, on college campuses, in residential neighborhoods, and at religious gatherings. Some attacks have succeeded. Others have been narrowly stopped. These accounts point to a troubling pattern: rhetoric that once circulated primarily as “political activism” is increasingly accompanied by real-world violence.

Around the beginning of Hanukkah this year, multiple violent or attempted attacks occurred within a short span of time. In Australia, gunfire erupted at a Jewish gathering at Bondi Beach, resulting in mass casualties. In Redlands, California, authorities investigated a suspected hate crime after a man reportedly shouted “Free Palestine” along with antisemitic slurs before firing repeatedly at a home displaying Hanukkah decorations. At Brown University, a shooting during a final exam review session taught by a Jewish professor with ties to Israel left students dead and a campus shaken.

During the same period, U.S. federal authorities announced arrests connected to extremist plots targeting Jewish and Israeli-linked sites, while German officials detained suspects accused of planning a vehicle attack on a Christmas market. These incidents were separated by geography but united by timing, targets, and rhetoric. They coincided with a Jewish festival that commemorates survival under persecution and the endurance of faith.

Violence does not emerge in a vacuum. Ideas precede actions. Over the past two years, accusations that Israel is committing “genocide” have become commonplace across social media, activist movements, and academic spaces. Repetition has given these claims emotional force, even as many legal scholars, historians, and conflict analysts continue to dispute their accuracy under international law.

It is worth examining where this narrative originates. The charge of genocide has been aggressively promoted by Hamas and aligned groups whose stated objective is not political reform but the destruction of Israel itself. Hamas has never concealed its intentions. Its founding charter explicitly calls for violence against Jews, not merely opposition to Israeli policy. Yet its messaging has often been repackaged by Western activists as human rights advocacy, stripped of its original context and intent.

From a journalistic perspective, this matters. When claims rooted in propaganda are repeated without scrutiny, they reshape public perception. Over time, they also reshape moral boundaries. Language that frames one nation or one people as uniquely evil can make violence seem, to some, not only understandable but justified.

Supporters of this rhetoric frequently respond by insisting that criticism of Israel is not antisemitism. In principle, that is correct. Governments, including Israel’s, should be subject to criticism. But intellectual honesty requires consistency. When Israel alone is accused of crimes without evidentiary support, denied the right to self-defense afforded to other nations, and treated as a moral outlier among far worse actors, criticism crosses from political debate into something darker.

The consequences are visible. Jewish institutions increasingly require armed security. Jewish students report harassment and intimidation on campuses. Synagogues and homes displaying religious symbols are vandalized or attacked. These acts are not critiques of policy. They are expressions of hatred directed at people, not governments.

For readers informed by Scripture, this moment carries particular weight. The Bible repeatedly warns against bearing false witness and spreading deception. “You shall not spread a false report,” Exodus teaches. Falsehoods do not remain abstract. They shape attitudes, and attitudes shape behavior. History offers no shortage of examples where lies about Jews paved the way for violence against them.

The New Testament reinforces this continuity rather than negating it. The Apostle Paul explicitly rejects the idea that God has abandoned Israel, describing Gentile believers as grafted in rather than replacements. Whatever one’s political views on the modern Middle East, this theological foundation cannot be dismissed lightly.

None of this requires indifference to Palestinian suffering. Every human life bears inherent dignity. But compassion cannot be built on distortions. Hamas deliberately embeds itself among civilians, exploits civilian casualties for propaganda, and then accuses Israel of atrocities when it responds militarily. This strategy is well documented. Reporting or activism that omits this context is not neutral. It misleads.

Jesus warned that movements should be judged by their fruit. The fruit of the current wave of anti-Israel propaganda has included radicalization, intimidation, and bloodshed far beyond the region itself. That outcome deserves serious reflection, particularly from those who believe rhetoric is harmless so long as it claims moral intent.

What is unfolding resembles an ideological export of the intifada. In a digital age, slogans travel quickly and consequences follow. Language that calls for Israel’s elimination may be framed as political speech, but it has repeatedly served as a gateway to violence.

Scripture calls believers to speak truth even when it is unpopular and to defend those who are targeted. Jewish communities around the world increasingly find themselves isolated, misrepresented, and threatened. History suggests that antisemitism rarely announces itself openly at first. It grows when early warnings are dismissed.

Prayer, too, has a place here. “Pray for the peace of Jerusalem” is not a political slogan but a call to seek peace grounded in truth. Peace cannot exist where lies are normalized or where violence is excused.

Hanukkah commemorates resistance against forced erasure and the refusal to surrender faith under pressure. That history resonates today. As followers of a Jewish Messiah, indifference when lies lead to violence against Jewish communities is not a neutral position.

Journalism at its best clarifies rather than inflames. Faith at its best disciplines emotion with truth. Fear and anger have muddied our environment, and both are urgently needed.

Feature image attribution: Contains modified Copernicus Sentinel data 2023