“As a Jew.” Three potent words.
The memes are everywhere since actress Hannah Einbinder (“Hacks”) at the Emmy Awards explained it was her sacred Jewish duty to call out the Jewish state. Many, like her, have fervent opinions on Israel. However, it’s deemed more valid when prefaced with “as a Jew,” regardless of whether their views hold any historical accuracy or basis in Jewish heritage.
“As a Jew” says anyone with a microphone, podcast or a protest sign and their criticism of Israel or denial of antisemitism is purported to carry more weight than the average “shiksa.”
More often, they profess to be “just a secular Jew,” such as U.S. Sen. Bernie Sanders. As Rabbi Steven Burg, CEO of AISH Global stated, they “wield their Jewish identity like a shield, as if their genetic lottery ticket grants them moral authority to speak for an entire people and a 3,500-year-old civilization.”
In normal times, we wouldn’t care much. But the world changed Oct. 7, 2023. Being a Jew is now a drastically altered ballgame.
“Being a Jew” did not insulate me last summer from being screamed at and terrorized by a protestor wearing a yarmulke and a red keffiyeh scarf, which is associated with Arab solidarity. He had difficulty keeping his kippah on his head “as a Jew,” but apparently his own (presumed) Jewish identity gave his message more credence than me being harassed “as a Jew.”
Last June, protesters who align with Progressive Jews of St. Louis, who refer to themselves as anti-Zionist Jews, attempted to disrupt an Israel program with 200-plus older Jewish attendees by screaming “Free Palestine,” waving Iranian flags and banging drums, requiring heavy security presence at a local synagogue. “As Jews” they insisted their views and Jewish identity trumped all others, supposedly giving their harassing speech increased moral weight.
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“Because they are Jews,” high school and college students in St. Louis are harassed, bullied and threatened constantly by fellow students, teachers and professors, who blame Israel and therefore all Jews, in the Middle East conflict. Often singled out just for wearing a Star of David, their personal stories of trauma are infuriating while school administrators choose to look the other way.
“Because they are Jews,” a Clayton family was specifically targeted in May, their cars firebombed at 3 a.m. with the perpetrator spray-painting “Death to the IDF” in a personalized message on the street. Law enforcement declared the attack the year’s fourth most dangerous anti-Jew incident in the country, with the potential for significant loss of life. The family “as Jews” couldn’t just yell “Free Palestine” in the dead of night to stop the violent attack. And worse, the attacker has not yet been positively identified, leaving the family and Jewish neighbors fearfully on edge.
“Because they are Jews” requires our shuls, Jewish institutions, preschools and day schools to spend millions more in their budgets on in-house security. We accept this as necessary in today’s climate, while synagogues are vandalized, set on fire and Jews are murdered across the country.
The world of global antisemitism, which has expanded at unprecedented rates since Oct. 7, doesn’t monitor what one believes “as a Jew.”
According to the 2025 ADL Global 100 index survey, 46% of adults worldwide, an estimated 2.2 billion people, hold significant antisemitic beliefs. Here at home, 77% of American Jews say they feel less safe since Oct. 7, with almost half of us altering our daily behavior out of fear and precaution. National anti-Jewish hate crimes have drastically increased, per FBI data.
Simply “because we are Jews.”
Yet, those speaking “as a Jew,” numerous Jewish Hollywood actors and insiders signed on to a boycott of Israeli filmmakers and institutions that are alleged to be “implicated in genocide and apartheid against the Palestinian people.” The “Hollywood blacklist” boycott risks violating federal and state civil rights laws and jeopardizing film tax credits, according to the Louis. D. Brandeis Center for Human Rights.
“As Jews,” they are attempting to leverage their far-left Jewish identity and genocide fallacies to gain progressive credibility, believing dangerously it will insulate them from antisemites.
Like being the “good Jews.”
“Good Jews” adopting anti-Israel rhetoric, allow for an invisible disguise — a fig leaf — in order to march alongside those who wouldn’t hesitate to throw the first rock or deface our buildings with swastikas. “Good Jews” allows those who blame their inadequate Jewish education to blend in with those shouting “Globalizing the Intifada” and “Free Palestine,” ignoring the rallying cries which sanction violence against their fellow Jews.
Accepting anti-Zionist narratives, which represents a minority among Jews, has proved to be dangerous. European history from the 1930s demonstrates that strategy didn’t work.
Never mind the “Good Jews” using “as a Jew” mantras for division and short-term superiority in woke spaces.
“Because we are Jews” requires strong solidarity and unity among us. Tragically, we already know, after centuries of battling Jew hate, exactly how to survive.
“Because we are Jews,” we know in the end, that antisemitism does not discriminate among Jews.
