✍️ Antisemitism: A Prejudice That Still Makes No Sense
Remembering a college conversation that first opened my eyes to antisemitism—and reflecting on what religious freedom really means.
Antisemitism. I don’t get it. At least that’s what I’ve been telling myself since my senior year in college, when I served as student government vice president and chaired the student legislature.
I recall one day when I was in my office, the only enclosed office I’ve ever had, with a door and wood-paneled walls. A student legislator came in and shut the door behind her.
Without saying much, she sat down and pretty quickly began crying. I’m sure we had an extended conversation, but mostly I recall her telling me how she had been harassed, ridiculed, and snubbed while growing up because she’s a Jew.
I was aware, somewhat, from history classes of the horrendous persecution of Jews in Europe before and during World War II. And at some point, perhaps that day in my student government office, I became aware of the persecution of Jews in the United States.
And I still don’t get it. I also don’t get discrimination against people because of their race and ethnic background. But I’ve seen racial discrimination and learned about it in college classes, news reports, and other reading, and from friends and acquaintances, and from novels and movies and TV shows, and from my own political involvement.
Admittedly, I’m no expert on any of this. And I haven’t studied antisemitism in-depth despite that unexpected introduction to it 55 years ago. I’m not a religious person, and I approach these issues more from a civic and constitutional perspective than a theological one.
So I’ve been aghast when I’ve been told that antisemitism is based partly on the claim that Jews killed Jesus. Huh? That matters? All these many centuries later?
Historians note that the Roman government executed Jesus, yet the accusation against Jews persisted for centuries in parts of Christian teaching. It fueled prejudice and still influences the way some people think about Jews today.
Other stereotypes, such as the long-standing myth that Jews control finance or banking, have also fueled prejudice over the years.
As a former journalist and government communications officer—and as a continuing news junkie and political activist—I believe the First Amendment protects one of our most significant civil rights: freedom of expression.
That freedom encompasses a lot, of course: the freedom of the news media to report and comment on our government (and other matters), the freedom of speech for people to speak out on our government (and other matters), the freedom to join with organizations to speak out nonviolently, and the freedom to lobby our government. All rights built into our constitution.
But it also includes the freedom of religion: the right of people to believe and follow whatever religious traditions and practices they choose or have learned from their families, friends, and personal studies. Again, a constitutional right of expression.
But those freedoms and others also guarantee at least two other things:
First, the government’s responsibility (through our elected and appointed leaders and representatives) to prevent itself from diminishing those rights, and
Second, the government’s responsibility to actively protect those rights, without infringing on our other civil rights.
I write that in this article about religious discrimination because I not only oppose the U.S. government infringing on the rights of all people in their religious beliefs and practices, but I also oppose the government dictating and enforcing religious beliefs and practices.
I am thankful I live in a country that was founded on guaranteeing those rights, that our country’s founders valued those rights. They are rights that are essential to our democracy—and all democracies, I believe.
I pity countries that don’t recognize or respect freedom of religion within their boundaries, that encourage and allow, if not require, that only certain religious beliefs be practiced by their citizens and residents. I pity the people of those countries.
That said, I don’t believe it’s a right or responsibility of the U.S. to enforce its freedom of religion around the world, even as its citizens evangelize for particular religions in other countries. But I also don’t believe the U.S. must respect or accept or—most certainly—participate in religious persecution in other countries.
And I don’t believe the U.S. should support or oppose other governments based on religion. Our decisions should be based on how those governments act, especially how they treat people.
The long history of persecution against Jews—including centuries of discrimination in Europe and the Holocaust—helps explain why many people see Israel as a necessary refuge and homeland for the Jewish people.
But criticizing the policies of a government is not discrimination against a religion or a people. Governments make decisions; religions express beliefs. Those are not the same thing.
That distinction matters. Tolerance does not require accepting intolerance. A free society depends on protecting people’s rights, including religious freedom, while rejecting efforts to harass, exclude, or harm others because of who they are.
To me, criticism of a government’s actions is not antisemitism when it focuses on policy rather than targeting people because of their religion.
Prejudice rarely survives because it makes sense. It survives because myths and fears are repeated for generations.
And tragically, people don’t always survive the consequences.
Related resources
🟥 Confronting Hate, Extremism, and Authoritarianism
A ranked guide to organizations working to expose, resist, and prevent movements that threaten civil rights, human dignity, and democratic norms.
🟥 Freedom of Religion & Belief
A ranked guide to advocacy groups defending religious liberty and the separation of church and state—both through civic action and faith-based leadership.



Gary, thank you for your well researched article. Being a Jew who experienced antisemitism in my life, with well meaning friends brushing off my feeling, I so appreciate the validation. I silently protest against it, yet ever so quietly.
Again my friend, thank you. Jill