In the swirling vortex of campus politics and identity, a deeply concerning trend has emerged: the insistence on equating antisemitism with Islamophobia. This isn’t just an academic debate; it’s a profound failure to acknowledge distinct experiences, and in doing so, it minimizes real suffering. Universities, often paralyzed by the fear of angering various minority groups, have adopted a “both sides” narrative. We see this in reports from institutions like Harvard and Brandeis, which, in their attempt to be equitable, paint a picture where the systematic targeting of Jewish students is seen as morally and empirically equivalent to the “subjective discomfort” of Muslim students. This isn’t a nuanced understanding; it’s a dangerous distortion that overlooks centuries of Jewish persecution and the uniquely visceral nature of anti-Jewish hatred. It’s like comparing a persistent, life-threatening illness to a temporary feeling of unease – both are negative, but their impact and historical context are vastly different.
To truly understand this disparity, we need to look at history. As I’ve argued before, there is simply no equivalence between Islamophobia and antisemitism. Jewish people have faced millennia of persecution, mass expulsions, and genocidal campaigns, culminating in the Holocaust – a systematic, industrialized attempt to wipe out an entire people. This is a level of historical trauma and ongoing threat that, thankfully, has not been directed at Muslims globally. While Muslims have certainly faced prejudice and discrimination, it hasn’t manifested in the same historically pervasive and existential threat that characterizes antisemitism. To suggest otherwise is not just historically inaccurate; it’s deeply offensive, diminishing the unique horrors endured by Jewish communities throughout history.
If antisemitism and Islamophobia were truly equivalent in their current manifestation on campuses, the evidence would be undeniable. But where are the large-scale encampments targeting Muslim students or protesting groups like Hamas and Hezbollah? Where are the well-organized “Students and Faculty Against Muslims” chapters? What about the constant, public faculty statements condemning Islam as inherently illegitimate, or widespread departmental programs dedicated to criticizing Muslim countries? When have we seen boycotts of Muslim-owned businesses, divestment campaigns against companies linked to Muslim nations, or mobs forcing Muslim students to run a gauntlet of hostility merely to attend classes? Are students being rewarded for assaulting Muslims? Are student governments routinely voting to isolate Muslim-majority states, or are eviction notices appearing on the doors of Muslim students solely because of their faith? We don’t see “apartheid walls” or “apartheid weeks” highlighting discrimination against non-Muslims by Muslims, nor are posters of kidnapped Muslims being torn down. Are Muslim-sponsored activities constantly disrupted by protestors, or are Muslim students barred from organizations due to their religion or perceived political views? Are entire departments dominated by faculty hostile to Islam, or are junior Muslim faculty forced to hide their beliefs to get ahead? Are DEI programs actively discriminating against Muslim students, or are professors promoting pseudo-intellectual paradigms that single out Muslims for opprobrium? Where are the debates questioning the right of a Muslim state to exist, or professional academic associations calling for boycotts of Muslim scholars or countries? Are Muslim students’ grades impacted by their faith or support for Muslim causes, or are they denied study abroad opportunities in their preferred Middle Eastern countries? The clear answer to all these questions is: these widespread phenomena simply do not exist on the same scale, if at all, for Muslim students.
Conversely, if we replace “Muslim” with “Jew” in those very same questions, the answers become starkly alarming. Across North American campuses, there are encampments protesting Jewish students and Israel; there are student and faculty groups actively working against Jewish interests; there are faculty statements denying Israel’s legitimacy; there are departmental programs isolating Jewish narratives; there are calls for boycotts and divestment targeting Israel, often conflated with Jewish students. There are instances of Jewish students being forced to endure hostile environments, having their posters of kidnapped victims torn down, and facing isolation and discrimination within student organizations. There are faculty members who propagate anti-Zionist (and often antisemitic) ideologies, creating hostile environments for Jewish students and even junior faculty. The evidence of a campus movement targeting Jewish students is overwhelming and pervasive, deeply ingrained in the campus culture. While some Muslim students may genuinely feel uncomfortable – and their discomfort should not be dismissed – there’s a vital distinction between feeling uncomfortable and being the target of an organized, systemic movement of marginalization and hostility. The FBI’s statistics outside of campus echo this, showing Jews are far more likely to be victims of hate crimes (69% compared to 9% for Muslims). The reality is straightforward: there is a directed, measurable movement targeting Jewish students on campus, and there is no comparable, organized movement seeking to marginalize Muslim students.
Yet, despite this stark reality, universities continue to treat “feelings” as interchangeable with systematic targeting. Administrators, in their understandable desire to avoid conflict, often shy away from directly confronting antisemitism. Doing so would inevitably put them at odds with powerful activist coalitions, many of which are deeply invested in anti-Israel ideologies that frequently cross into antisemitism. They often resist adopting clear definitions of antisemitism, such as the widely accepted International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance working definition, because it exposes the uncomfortable truth that much of the “anti-Zionist” rhetoric they tolerate is, in fact, antisemitic. By drawing false equivalencies, they turn a specific, urgent problem into a generic, abstract one, deflecting from the unique suffering of Jewish students. The Brandeis study, for example, suggested that both Jewish and Muslim students share strikingly similar experiences of feeling excluded and unrecognized. While empathy is always valuable, asking Jewish students to constantly extend empathy in the face of unique and historical persecution, without reciprocal support, mirrors past patterns. As I observed in a past study of coexistence projects in Israel, it was always the Israeli Jews who initiated them, rarely the Palestinians. Jews have historically been at the forefront of speaking out against discrimination against others, but when it comes to their own marginalization, the support is often conspicuously absent. Where are the large-scale protests against antisemitism? Where are the faculty statements unequivocally defending Jewish students from targeted harassment? Where are the broad coalitions that mobilize when Jewish students are the targets?
By stubbornly insisting on this false equivalence, universities are doing immense damage. Firstly, they are minimizing antisemitism, reducing it to just another issue in a long list, rather than recognizing its historical scale, unique nature, and pervasive impact. Secondly, they are emboldening those who perpetrate antisemitic acts, signaling that harassment and discrimination against Jewish students will be diluted, excused, or simply framed as “both sides” rather than unequivocally condemned. Finally, and perhaps most painfully, they are isolating Jewish students. This false narrative implicitly tells them that their experiences don’t truly count, that their history of persecution is not unique, and that their fears are somehow comparable to mere discomfort. It leaves them feeling unseen, unheard, and unprotected on campuses that should be safe havens for all. And then, bewilderingly, these very administrators wonder why the problem of antisemitism on their campuses continues to fester and worsen.