How Jewish leaders respond to antisemitism after October 7 will define whether institutions confront reality or continue managing it

In the months following the October 7 massacre by Hamas and their Gaza Civilian followers, universities and professional organizations across the United States faced internal and external pressure to respond to the unprecedented surge of antisemitism, showing that they were addressing the rise in antisemitism. Task forces were formed. Reports were published. Leadership statements were carefully drafted. On paper, it seemed institutions understood the seriousness of the moment.

Yet, from within these efforts, a different picture emerges. As a member of the American Bar Association Presidential Task Force to Combat Antisemitism, I have seen firsthand how responses are limited—not due to lack of awareness but because of internal leadership dynamics. What begins as a mandate to fight antisemitism gradually narrows, manages, and is reframed. The focus shifts from clarity to consensus, from accountability to accommodation.

This problem isn’t just bureaucratic; it’s conceptual. Too often, leadership still thinks within a pre–October 7 mindset—treating antisemitism as just one bias among many, addressed through broad diversity language instead of confrontation. This approach misses the core reality: today’s antisemitism often appears as delegitimizing Israel and marginalizing Jewish identity in public discourse.

Within institutions, there is a persistent tendency to soften language, avoid specifics, and accommodate views that downplay the severity of antisemitism when linked to debates about Israel. This isn’t accidental. It reflects efforts—sometimes explicit, sometimes implicit—to stay aligned with larger coalitions whose frameworks don’t always match Jewish concerns. The result is a form of institutional micromanagement that limits both what can be said and what can be done.

This pattern isn’t limited to the legal world. It’s visible across academia. At Harvard and Columbia, reports highlight process and consultation but leave key issues unresolved. Meanwhile, Jewish students experience a reality sharply contrasting with the cautious language of institutional documents. That gap—between experience and expression—is where trust begins to erode.

What those responses lack isn’t just clarity but also readiness. The failure to fight antisemitism effectively is also a failure in education. Too many students arrive on campus without basic knowledge of Zionism, Israel’s founding, or Jewish peoplehood as a form of self-determination. In that vacuum, delegitimization language doesn’t need to persuade—it simply fills the space.

When antisemitism is framed as anti-Zionism, students without that background are immediately put on the defensive. They’re asked to respond to arguments they were never taught to counter, with vocabulary they don’t know, on terrain they don’t fully understand. By the time institutions respond, the imbalance is already set.

If universities continue relying on frameworks that prioritize consensus over clarity, then preparation must start earlier—before students reach campus. This underscores the importance of Jewish education.

Jewish Day Schools cannot treat Zionism as a secondary or optional subject. It’s not a module to cover; it’s a core part of Jewish literacy. Students should leave equipped with a solid understanding of Zionism as the Jewish people’s national movement, rooted in history rather than just current political shorthand. They should understand the regional context of Israel’s founding, the evolution of modern antisemitism, and the difference between criticism and denial of legitimacy.

Without that foundation, students are left improvising under pressure. Ambassador Elliott Abrams has argued that a generation of American Jews has grown up without a serious encounter with these ideas. The result is clear: confusion where there should be clarity, hesitation where confidence should be. When Zionism isn’t seen as a fundamental expression of Jewish peoplehood, it becomes easier to distort—and easier to abandon.

Bret Stephens has made a related point from another perspective. A weakened Jewish identity—whether biological, cultural, or religious—can’t withstand pressure. If identity is superficial, it frays quickly. If rooted, it can withstand challenges.

These aren’t abstract issues. They are unfolding on American campuses in real time. Institutions can’t make up for what students were never taught. Task forces can’t replace education. And carefully worded statements can’t replace intellectual confidence.

History offers a warning. In 1938, Neville Chamberlain returned from Munich claiming he had secured “peace for our time.” Britain and France accepted the division of Czechoslovakia, hoping concessions would prevent conflict. Winston Churchill saw it differently. He warned that Nazi Germany’s guarantees mean nothing. It would not weaken Germany; it would only delay war.

This isn’t about comparing events but understanding the logic of appeasement. When institutions dilute language, dodge tough truths, or subordinate Jewish concerns to broader politics, they aren’t resolving tension—they’re delaying it. They’re choosing comfort over integrity.

Outside these systems, Jewish leaders often take a different, clearer approach. They speak plainly, act honestly, and uphold principles even within coalitions. Not because it’s easier, but because the moment demands it.

That’s the model institutions should follow. The question isn’t whether antisemitism can be addressed within current frameworks, but whether those frameworks are adequate for today’s reality. If they aren’t—and evidence suggests they aren’t—then relying on them won’t produce different results.

Reports will still be drafted. Statements will still be issued. But unless there is a shift—toward clarity instead of accommodation, accountability instead of process, and serious preparation instead of reactive responses—these efforts will be merely windowdresssing, not solutions. And the history of appeasement shows us where that path leads.

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)