Why Does Antisemitism Exist?

For no good reason.

One of my readers recently asked me an excellent question: Why does antisemitism exist?

That is actually one of the most important historical and moral questions you can ask, because antisemitism — or Jew hatred, if you prefer the more direct term — has persisted for more than 2,000 years. Historians often call it “the longest hatred” because it has survived empires, religions, revolutions, and modernity itself.

Even the word “antisemitism” is controversial. Technically, “Semitic” refers to a family of languages that includes Arabic as well as Hebrew. But the term itself was coined in 19th-century Germany specifically to give Jew hatred a more scientific-sounding label. In practical usage, antisemitism has always meant hostility toward Jews.

The remarkable thing about antisemitism is not merely that it exists. Human beings, unfortunately, are capable of prejudice against almost anyone. The remarkable thing is how adaptable this particular prejudice has been. It constantly reinvents itself to fit the fears and anxieties of different eras.

In ancient times, Jews were distrusted because they were different. They practiced monotheism in pagan societies and refused to worship emperors or local gods. That made them seem insular and disloyal to surrounding populations.

With the rise of Christianity, anti-Jewish sentiment took on a religious character. Some early Christian thinkers advanced the false and destructive idea of collective Jewish guilt for the crucifixion of Jesus Christ. Over time, this evolved into horrifying myths such as blood libels, accusations of well poisoning during the Black Death, and periodic expulsions of Jewish communities from European countries.

But Christianity itself emerged from Judaism. Jesus was a Jew. The apostles were Jews. The earliest Christians were Jews. The modern Catholic Church explicitly rejects the idea of collective Jewish guilt for the crucifixion, and Christians who engage in antisemitism are acting contrary to the very roots of their own faith.

In the Middle Ages, antisemitism evolved again, this time into an economic scapegoat system.

European rulers often prohibited Jews from owning land or joining guilds while simultaneously banning Christians from lending money at interest. Jews were boxed into a narrow range of occupations, including commerce and money lending. Then, when kings, nobles, or peasants became angry over debt or taxes, rulers redirected that anger toward Jewish communities.

In other words, Jews were frequently placed into economically vulnerable roles and then blamed for occupying them.

This helped create some of the most enduring antisemitic stereotypes: the idea that Jews secretly controlled money, finance, or governments. These conspiracy theories were contradictory and irrational, but prejudice is rarely rational.

By the 19th century, Europe was becoming more secular. Jews were increasingly assimilated into society and were granted legal equality in many countries. One might think that would have ended antisemitism.

Instead, the hatred mutated yet again.

This time, it became racial.

The modern term “antisemitism” emerged in Germany during this period as part of a pseudoscientific racial ideology. Influenced by Social Darwinism and bogus racial theories, antisemites claimed Jewishness was not merely a religion but a biological defect. According to this ideology, a Jew could not escape prejudice even by converting to Christianity.

This racial conspiracy thinking culminated in fabricated documents such as The Protocols of the Elders of Zion, which falsely claimed Jews controlled world finance, governments, and media. Those lies helped lay the intellectual groundwork for the Holocaust.

After World War II, the Holocaust horrified much of the civilized world into confronting the consequences of antisemitism. Open racial Jew hatred became socially unacceptable in most Western societies. Universities, corporations, and governments dismantled discriminatory barriers that had long excluded Jews.

For a while, it appeared humanity had learned its lesson.

Unfortunately, hatred rarely disappears completely. It adapts.

Today, antisemitism often manifests politically rather than religiously or racially. Legitimate criticism of Israeli government policy is perfectly acceptable political speech. Israelis themselves argue passionately about their own government every day.

But there is an important distinction between criticizing a government and recycling ancient antisemitic myths using modern political language.

When people portray Israel as uniquely evil among nations, accuse Jews collectively of dual loyalty, invoke conspiracies about Jewish control of media or finance, or repurpose medieval blood libel imagery into modern anti-Zionist rhetoric, we are no longer talking about ordinary political disagreement. We are seeing very old prejudices wearing new clothes.

And this problem exists on both sides of the political aisle.

On parts of the far right, antisemitism appears in conspiracy theories about “globalists,” secret banking cabals, or supposed Jewish manipulation of society. On parts of the far left, it can appear as obsessive hostility toward Israel that crosses the line into collective hostility toward Jews themselves.

Both forms ultimately draw from the same poisonous well: the idea that complex social problems can be blamed on a small, identifiable minority.

That, ultimately, is why antisemitism has survived for so long.

It is useful to demagogues.

Whenever societies experience economic decline, political instability, war, rapid cultural change, or social anxiety, conspiracy theories offer emotionally satisfying explanations. It is easier to blame a minority group than to grapple with the complexity of economics, governance, history, or human nature.

Antisemitism provides a convenient villain for people seeking simple answers to difficult problems.

But it is a lie.

There is no rational justification for antisemitism. None. Jewish people, like every other group of human beings, are individuals. Some are brilliant. Some are flawed. Some are conservative. Some are progressive. Some are religious. Some are secular. They are not a monolith.

Indeed, some of the greatest contributors to human civilization — in science, medicine, economics, philosophy, music, literature, and physics — have been Jewish. Albert Einstein alone transformed humanity’s understanding of the universe.

The tragedy is that humanity keeps relearning the same lesson over and over again. Once a society begins dehumanizing a group of people and treating them as a collective threat, terrible things follow.

We are seeing warning signs again today. Social media amplifies conspiracy theories at lightning speed. Extremism is rising globally. Anti-Jewish incidents have surged in many Western countries. The rhetoric is becoming uglier and more normalized.

That should concern every decent person, regardless of politics.

The sensible center needs to resist this resurgence before it metastasizes further. Not because Jews are uniquely virtuous or uniquely victimized, but because antisemitism is historically one of the clearest warning signs of a society losing its moral bearings.

History has already shown us where that road leads.

We should be wise enough not to walk it again.

Never again.

That’s just common sense.