In a country where the promise of religious freedom and mutual respect is supposed to be a cornerstone of civic life, the alarming rise of antisemitism has become a wound that refuses to heal. It appears not only in dark corners of the internet or in historical revisionism, but in ordinary spaces: on college campuses, in high school hallways, at professional hockey games, and on election-night broadcasts watched by millions. Fox News’ “Antisemitism Exposed” newsletter documents this disturbing trend, bringing together stories of hatred that range from radical political movements to everyday acts of violence. The latest edition paints a sobering picture of a society where anti-Jewish prejudice is increasingly normalized, and where Jewish people are caught in a toxic convergence of ideologies that should have no common ground. There is a reason this newsletter exists: because hatred that begins with targeting one community eventually erodes the safety of everyone. And as the stories in this edition reveal, the threat is not abstract or distant. It is carried in slogans shouted at public events, in banners unfurled in stadiums, in acts of physical aggression against Jewish students, and in social media posts celebrated by partisan groups. These are not just headlines; they are warnings about how far we have drifted from basic decency. To humanize these incidents is to remember that behind every report is a person who fears for their safety, a family that worries about their children, and a community that wonders whether the institutions meant to protect them will actually step up. The newsletter’s latest compilation demands more than a passing glance; it asks us to confront uncomfortable truths about the failure of leadership, the poison of extremism, and the urgent need for solidarity with Jewish people in America and around the world.
One of the most striking stories in this edition involves the Democratic Socialists of America (DSA), which sparked furious outrage after tapping Twitch streamer Hasan Piker to anchor its election night broadcast. Piker, known to millions of followers for his political commentary and gaming streams, has a history of statements that Jewish advocacy groups describe as antisemitic and supportive of terrorism. The Anti-Defamation League’s chief executive, Jonathan Greenblatt, did not hold back, scorching the socialist organization for elevating “raw antisemitism” and giving a platform to “terror apologists.” This is not a minor controversy; it is a moment that reveals how political alliances can trump human decency. When a major progressive organization chooses as its voice a figure widely accused of spreading hate, it sends a chilling message to Jewish people: your safety is negotiable, your history is irrelevant, and your pain is a political inconvenience. Piker’s response to the criticism was telling. Rather than engage with the substance of the accusations, he fired back with a vulgar online tirade, celebrating a Democratic electoral victory and fantasizing about putting Donald Trump behind bars. The nastiness of his reaction was meant to distract and intimidate, but it only underscored the concern. This is not about one streamer or one organization. It is about the normalization of figures whose words help create an environment where antisemitic tropes are acceptable as long as they come from the right side of the political aisle. The DSA’s decision, and the defensive reaction to criticism, is a reminder that antisemitism does not always wear the uniform of a skinhead. Sometimes it comes dressed in fashionable ideology, speaking the language of progress, and calling itself liberation. But the effect is the same: Jewish people are singled out, demonized, and treated as legitimate targets for the anger of others.
Equally troubling is the story from the University of Michigan, where conservative Jewish influencer Lizzy Benichou was violently shoved to the concrete during an open debate. The altercation erupted after an enraged woman allegedly slapped a fellow speaker with a phone and lunged at Benichou when challenged on women’s rights in Iran. What makes this incident particularly painful is not just the physical assault, but the setting. A university is supposed to be a place where ideas are tested through dialogue and reason, not where people are attacked for their beliefs. Benichou, who has built a following by speaking boldly about her Jewish identity and conservative values, found herself on the ground, injured and shaken. Police detained the student suspect, but the aftermath has left many wondering whether such incidents are becoming a predictable feature of campus life. Even more remarkable is Benichou’s response. Despite the violence, she insists she will not be silenced. She shows up, speaks out, and refuses to let fear dictate her voice. That courage is inspiring, but it is also a sad commentary on what Jewish students increasingly have to endure. They are not just facing disagreement; they are facing physical intimidation for daring to exist visibly as Jews. The fact that the altercation began over a discussion of women’s rights in Iran adds another layer of irony and tragedy. The same people who claim to fight for the oppressed often resort to violence when confronted with uncomfortable truths. The attack on Benichou is a clear example of how antisemitism intersects with misogyny, intolerance, and the breakdown of civil discourse. It also raises a critical question: what are universities doing to protect Jewish students? When the response is slow, weak, or absent, the message is clear—that some students are more protected than others, and that Jewish students are expected to endure hostility as the price of an education.
The threats are not confined to colleges; they have reached even the hallways of elite high schools. At Stuyvesant High School in Manhattan, a public school renowned for academic excellence, outrage exploded after its Young Democratic Socialists of America chapter endorsed an incendiary online post screaming “Intifada Until Victory.” For those unfamiliar with the term, “Intifada” refers to periods of violent Palestinian uprisings against Israel, marked by suicide bombings and terrorist attacks. To Jewish students, that phrase is not abstract rhetoric; it is a direct threat, a promise of violence that has historically been aimed at their people. Advocacy group #EndJewHatred called the slogan an explicit threat to Jewish students and demanded that school leadership and education officials take immediate action. The fact that this happened at Stuyvesant—a school with a large Jewish population—makes it all the more heartbreaking. These are teenagers, many of whom are descendants of Holocaust survivors, being told by their peers that they are unwelcome in their own school. The local chapter of the DSA scrambled to distance itself from the high schoolers’ post, but the damage had already been done. The slogan was out there, liked, shared, and celebrated by young people who should know better. It is a reminder that antisemitism is not just a problem of older generations or fringe extremists. It is being instilled in the next generation, dressed up in ideological clothing that makes hatred feel virtuous. Meanwhile, in the world of professional sports, the St. Louis Blues were forced to clean up a public relations nightmare after anti-Israel demonstrators hijacked their home game against Vegas. Radical protesters unfurled banners declaring “Free America from Israel” and “Israel kills” in the arena stands, turning a family-friendly sports event into a platform for political hatred. Team chairman Tom Stillman torched the “unforgivable” stunt, apologizing to fans and vowing that such vile antisemitic rhetoric would never be tolerated on their ice. But the question remains: how did these banners get in? How did an arena security system fail so completely that a game meant to unite the community was used to divide and threaten it? These incidents show that no space is safe—not schools, not sports arenas, not social media—when antisemitism is allowed to fester unchecked.
Beyond the specific incidents, this edition of the newsletter includes a guest editorial by B’nai B’rith International CEO Evan R. Bernstein, who warns that antisemitism is converging in real time from both fringes of the political spectrum. He cites disturbing examples: stabbings in New York City, street assaults in London, and unrest in France. The far-right, he explains, frames Jews as conspiratorial puppet masters pulling invisible strings for global domination. The far-left, by contrast, brands Jews as oppressors, colonizers, and enemies of the oppressed. What is left is a situation in which Jewish people are targeted by both extremes, with each side using different language but sharing the same ultimate goal: to isolate and demonize the Jewish community. Bernstein’s warning is not merely political analysis; it is a cry from a leader who sees history repeating itself. He argues that safety is being treated as secondary, and that too many institutions are willing to look the other way when the hate comes from a group they consider an ally. This is the insidious nature of antisemitism: it adapts to its environment, adopts the vocabulary of the moment, and finds allies wherever it can. It is not surprising that so many Jewish families are asking themselves serious questions about their future in countries they once considered home. When a teacher opens a classroom and sees a slogan celebrating violence against her people; when a fan goes to a hockey game and sees banners accusing Israel of murder; when a student is physically attacked for her Jewish identity; when a prominent political organization platform is handed to someone who spews hatred—these are not isolated events. They are puzzle pieces that, when put together, form a terrifying picture of a society that has lost its moral compass. The quote of the week from Michelle Ahdoot of #EndJewHatred captures the emotional core of this crisis: “Students deserve a learning environment free from Jew-hatred, and families deserve to know that school leadership takes their concerns seriously.” This should not be a radical demand. It should be a basic expectation, one that every parent should have for their child, regardless of faith. And yet, in today’s climate, even this simple statement has to be repeated again and again because the response has been so inadequate.
In the end, these stories force us to ask ourselves a deeper question: what kind of society do we want to be? The rise of antisemitism is not just a Jewish problem; it is a moral test for the rest of humanity. It is a test of whether we truly believe in equality, whether we will stand up for the vulnerable, and whether we can resist the seductive pull of tribalism and hatred. The people in these reports—Lizzy Benichou, the students at Stuyvesant, the fans at the Blues game, the victims of violence in New York and London—are all asking us to pay attention. They are asking us to refuse to look away when hatred appears, no matter which side of the political spectrum it comes from. The “Antisemitism Exposed” newsletter exists to shine a light on these stories, to make sure they are not ignored or buried under the noise of the daily news cycle. But awareness is only the first step. What matters now is action: school administrators who discipline students who celebrate terrorism, political leaders who condemn all antisemitism without equivocation, sports teams that enforce strict security and clear values, and ordinary citizens who befriends their Jewish neighbors and speak out when they see injustice. The fight against antisemitism is not a battle for Jewish people alone; it is a fight for the soul of every nation that claims to value freedom and dignity for all. The stories in this newsletter are a reminder of what is at stake. They are heartbreaking, yes, but they are also a call to awaken. We can do better. We must do better. And if we are truly committed to the principles of decency and humanity, we will not rest until every person—Jewish or not—can live, learn, and gather without fear of being targeted simply for who they are.
