There has been a lot of public debate between leaders of prominent Jewish organizations about the state of antisemitism in America sparked by New York Times Columnist Bret Stephens’ recent criticism of ADL. Likewise, Robert Kraft’s Blue Square campaign has received negative reviews from several Jewish community leaders for its super bowl commercial. The critics’ concerns are real, their intentions sincere, and having this discussion publicly is important. But the national discourse continues to miss a critical truth: The battle against antisemitism must be waged in the streets of your hometown, on the college campus, and in the communities devoid of Jewish presence. There is nothing to gain by engaging within our echo chambers.

Every few months, the Jewish community revives the same debate: Should we confront antisemitism head on, or should we turn inward and invest in Jewish identity, education, and resilience?

It’s a compelling question…and a deeply misleading one; so, I will ask a more important one. Did we all forget the words of Rabbi Hillel in Pirkei Avot? “If I am not for me, who will be for me? And when I am for myself alone, what am I? And if not now, then when?”

The idea that the Jewish community must choose between external defense and internal strength is not only false, but also dangerous. It divides our institutions, fragments our best strategy, and distracts from the real work required to keep Jews safe and thriving in 2026. The truth is that this fight requires all that Rabbi Hillel spoke of. We must be strong for ourselves AND for our communities and we must do it NOW.

Some argue that the Jewish community should stop talking about antisemitism altogether and instead invest in Jewish joy, Jewish learning, and Jewish community.

They are right about the investment. Jewish identity is not a luxury to be pursued once antisemitism is solved. It is a form of protection. It is resilience. It is the antidote to fear and isolation. We need to create the strongest, best educated, and most dynamic generation of Jews that the world has ever known. At the same time, the approach is dead wrong if it is implemented such that we stop talking about and confronting antisemitism. It is here, it is real, and it is dangerous for our children not to know about it until it comes crashing down upon them. We see this happening on college campuses all the time because we protect our children until the very moment that we can’t. Instead, we should prepare parents properly and teach them how to prepare their children.

Some Jewish organizations singularly focus on fighting antisemitism through public advocacy, legislation, and media pressure. Where has that gotten us? Antisemitism cannot be legislated away and decrying the problem in super bowl ads is tone-deaf to those that, through no fault of their own, do not otherwise interact with Jews. Is it right? No. Is it reality? Emphatically yes. This problem is not a policy problem, and it cannot be defeated by arguing logical talking points.

Nowhere is this more visible than on North America’s college campuses, where antisemitism is not an abstraction but a daily lived reality. And nowhere is the debate more counterproductive than in the very place where independent Jewish identity is formed, challenged, and tested. Campuses are the furnace in which all of American culture is smelted and are where our future leaders forge their core opinions. On campus, antisemitism is not a temporary crisis. It is a structural problem embedded in the culture, governance, and incentives of higher education. The response is to entrench ourselves deeper. At Alpha Epsilon Pi (AEPi), the Jewish fraternity, we build long‑term relationships with university leaders, train Jewish students to understand and influence their peers, and form coalitions with other groups that help us find common ground. It has been successful on campus, and the same theory can work in our communities more broadly. It is for this reason that AEPi rejects the premise of this debate entirely. We know that strengthening Jewish identity, systemic engagement, and advocacy are not competing priorities, they are interdependent pillars of Jewish survival.

When our neshamas are nurtured properly, engagement costs very little. It is grassroots, peer to peer, and only requires expertise in who you are, not geopolitics or psychology. Strong identity leads us naturally to strong engagement with our communities through tzedakah and service. These acts lead us naturally to engagement friendships and deeper understanding with non-Jews in our community. We cannot underestimate the power that exists in that space. As AEPi’s CEO, I am fortunate to see it play out regularly on campuses. Jewish and non-Jewish students work together toward common goals. They develop friendships, inevitably share life stories, and discuss tough nuanced issues over a beer or a cup of coffee. Don’t let the screaming on the quad or lack thereof distract you. The real successes are the relationships that are built and the common ground that is found and goes unreported.

The takeaway is that each of us can do the same thing. Find consensus with your non-Jewish community peers. Build friendships that support the issues they care about. Invite your neighbor or coworker for shabbat dinner. Share in the beauty of each other’s culture and experiences and have difficult conversations.

On campus, our AEPi brothers see this every day. At campuses with less Jewish life, the fact that the AEPi house in the middle of fraternity row is displaying an Israeli flag goes a long way to opening doors and starting conversations. On other campuses with a more vibrant Jewish community, AEPi stands at the intersection of Jewish life and overall campus life. In either case, AEPi can start conversations, build bridges, and change perceptions permanently.

The tradeoffs that Stephens cites are only required when there are limited resources. This is not the case for our battle against antisemitism. We can adequately invest in proactive identity building and in the defensive work of combatting antisemitism if we invest wisely. The only tradeoff that needs to be made is to select the right investments instead of the wrong ones. If the community invests its resources in the organizations that prioritize the thinkers and the doers among us and which produce strong returns on investments, we make enormous impact. The alternative is the organizations which prioritize fundraising and administration. Over the last few years, we have witnessed huge dollars raised by our community squandered on, for example, conferences where highly paid Jewish influencers scream into the echo chamber of largely Jewish audiences. We have invested dollars in organizations with huge marketing budgets and big fundraising mandates for their most talented staffers. We have also supported political candidates who fail us when we need them most. We have spent needed dollars on messaging campaigns that sometimes simply reinforce negative stereotypes. Worst of all, philanthropists have enabled organizations which lack the correct expertise to repeatedly waste resources re-tooling rather than investing in existing underfunded organizations that have – at their fingertips — the talents and experience the community needs.

The cartoon character, Pogo, had it wrong when he said, “We have met the enemy and he is us.” The enemy is everywhere – and has been for centuries – it is time to go meet them where they are and remind them that we’re not going anywhere.

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)