Last week I attended a California gubernatorial forum organized by a coalition of major Jewish organizations from across the state. Five candidates took the stage to address issues important to Jewish voters, from affordability and taxes to rising antisemitism. The discussion was wide-ranging. But one moment stood out. It took 62 minutes, in a 90 minute forum, before the word “Israel” was spoken. And during those first 62 minutes, the candidates were already discussing antisemitism.

The moment finally came when former Los Angeles mayor Antonio Villaraigosa reached for the small US and Israeli flag pin on his lapel. “I wear this pin because I believe Israel has a right to exist,” he said. “I wear this pin because I know what ‘from the river to the sea’ means.”

The candidates were there to discuss issues affecting Jewish Californians, and the Jewish community in California cares about a wide range of concerns. Affordability, taxes, public safety and education all matter to Jewish voters just as they do to other Californians. Understandably, antisemitism was a recurring topic throughout the evening. Several questions raised by the hosts addressed antisemitism directly, including concerns about the climate facing Jewish students on college campuses.

Candidates acknowledged that Jewish students are facing hostility. Some referenced the protests that have erupted on campuses since October 7. But the nature of those protests was never clearly named. The language of anti-Zionism, which often frames that hostility, never entered the conversation. In that sense, the forum reflected a broader pattern in the public conversation about antisemitism today.

Today much of the hostility Jews, especially Jewish students on campuses, encounter is expressed through the language of anti-Zionism. Students are frequently targeted not simply as Jews but as “Zionists,” and the protests and slogans surrounding Israel have become one of the primary ways hostility toward Jewish identity now appears on campuses and in public life. A student may not be called a “dirty Jew,” but a “dirty Zionist.” The rhetoric has changed. The hostility has not.

This made the structure of the conversation striking. The forum was convened by a broad coalition of Jewish organizations across California, many of which include support for Israel as part of their mission and advocacy. Israel also surfaced elsewhere in the discussion. At one point, candidates were asked whether they would support collaboration between California and Israeli technology companies, reflecting the deep ties between the state’s innovation economy and Israel’s tech sector. Yet when antisemitism was discussed, the role anti-Zionist rhetoric often plays in that hostility remained largely unspoken.

Of course, a gubernatorial forum in California is not the place for a debate over Israeli foreign policy. Governors do not set foreign policy. But they do influence how states respond to discrimination, harassment and campus hostility. If antisemitism is part of that conversation, it matters whether we are describing the problem clearly.

When Villaraigosa reached for his lapel pin and referenced the meaning of “from the river to the sea,” he briefly connected two conversations that had remained separate for much of the evening. One was about antisemitism, the other about Israel. For many Jewish students today, those two conversations are increasingly the same.

That was the quiet tension in the room for those first 62 minutes of the forum. Antisemitism was discussed, but the language through which much of that hostility now appears remained unspoken. If we want political leaders to understand the hostility Jews are facing today, we cannot talk about antisemitism while refusing to name the form it now often takes.

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)