I have just come back from a weeklong visit to New York, and would like to share some subjective impressions of Jewish and Israeli life and presence there. While Jewish life certainly goes on, it does seem to me that something has changed.

I especially visited areas most heavily frequented by tourists – 42 Street, 5th Avenue, the main branch (Stephen A. Schwarzman) of the New York Public Library, and the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

What struck me first was that one does not hear any Hebrew in any of these locations. The masses of global tourists speak every conceivable language – European and Asian, except one. This struck me because in every tourist venue that I have ever visited – from Trinity College in Dublin to Dubrovnik in Croatia – identifiable Israeli tourists were seen and heard. Is the absence of Hebrew due to a lack of Israeli tourists, or do they just not want to be identified? I do not know.

In a similar fashion – no (or very few) visible kippot. Everyone, including readily identifiable Hasidic Jews, wore baseball caps or other hats – even in midtown Manhattan near the Diamond District on 47th Street. This felt very strange. Since I was in high school in Brooklyn 60 years ago, one could unabashedly wear a kippa in midtown Manhattan.

This same theme emerged in regard to Kosher restaurants. Upon inquiring about them, my NY friend told me that Mendy’s and other well-known kosher establishments don’t really exist anymore as places where one can sit and eat. Rather, their business is mainly take-out and delivery. The one kosher café where I did have breakfast was in the lobby of a hotel, not really out in the open.

My cumulative impression from these observations is that Jews, Israelis, and Jewishness do not appear to have a public presence anymore, even in New York City. What had been the norm 20 or 30 years ago – the public presence of Jewishness – seems to have totally disappeared.

These observations were corroborated by what my New York friends told me. One prominent philanthropist and communal leader said that New York is no longer a Jewish city. She does not feel afraid, but it no longer feels like “her city.” Another friend said that criticism of Israel among Jews has become a trifle more muted, as people become more afraid. They think they may need Israel as a refuge or insurance policy. Why are Jews keeping a low profile even in New York?

Some may connect it to the election of Zohran Mamdani, the new Muslim, anti-Israel mayor of the city. Many people, though, argue that so far, his influence seems to be negligible, at least until he passes a budget. I would suggest that the election of Mamdani itself is a symptom of a deeper cause. The Jews used to be a symbol of New York. This was not only because of the large number of Jews there, making it the largest Jewish city in the world, but because the Jewish meshed so perfectly with the narrative of the city.

New York enables, through its fabulous resources – a world-class city university system, an amazing public library network, and the infinite possibilities of employment – a place where downtrodden and impoverished immigrants can succeed and become middle-class Americans. The Jews were the epitome of that – through attending school and working hard, persecuted and poor Jewish immigrants became doctors, lawyers, engineers, and business people.

The most insidious change in the position of the Jews in the United States is the change in their narrative. They are no longer regarded as a persecuted people “who made it,” but rather as white oppressors whose wealth and standing came at the expense of others. According to this narrative, the Jews do not belong to the city but are rather like a cancer or parasite feeding upon it.

One of the most potent traditional Jewish symbols is that of the Exile – the Galut. In its simplest and most powerful meaning, it connotes that the Jews are out of place, or do not have a place. For some years now, we have been trained to use the word “Diaspora” for the Jewish communities outside of Israel, but perhaps we should start thinking about reverting to the older, more authentic term – Galut.

The post New York: Diaspora or Galut? first appeared on The Jewish People Policy Institute.

“In a globalized world, there is a sense among Jews that, unlike the past, there is no far-flung land to escape to,” said Hirschhorn. “It seems for Jews that there is a calculus of the lesser of evils. Jews no longer have any one safe harbor—it is now a question of relative safety in a dangerous world.”

Hirschhorn also points to a troubling shift in the nature of antisemitism. Traditional right-wing antisemitism, she notes, has been reinvigorated in parts of the West amid economic disruption. At the same time, it has been joined by what she describes as a new and virulent strain of “anti-Zionist antisemitism.”

While there may have been some efforts to make Jew-hatred more unpalatable in polite society, Hirschhorn said, “open and even violent hatred toward ‘Zionism,’ ‘Zios,’ ‘Israel’ ‘Israelis’, and ‘Supporters of Israel’ has been given a new carte blanche.”

For the full article in the Wall Street Journal, click here.

The post Jews Begin to Wonder: Is Anywhere Safe? first appeared on The Jewish People Policy Institute.

The recent municipal elections in France resonate far beyond the local ballot box. The collapse of the center, the rise of the extremes, and a new alliance between the democratic left and antisemitic radicalism are a dress rehearsal for 2027.

On one side, Jean-Luc Mélenchon’s far-left party, La France Insoumise (LFI), which didn’t hold a single seat on any municipal council, has now entered hundreds of councils and captured real cities for the first time. On the other side, the far right took approximately 40% of the vote and clinched dozens of mayoral races. The center seems to have collapsed. According to current polls, Mélenchon has a real chance of reaching that final round as the standard-bearer of the left. His political movement has weaponized hostility toward Israel, and his ties to Islamist networks are well-documented. President Emmanuel Macron rose up on the ruins of the French left, and Mélenchon has harvested the fruit.

The paradox is that Macron himself paved the way. When he rose to power in 2017, the Socialist Party was in its death throes. Five years of Hollande’s failed presidency had left it at a historic low. Macron, who had served as Hollande’s Minister of the Economy, did not try to heal it. He set out to inherit its voters, recruiting moderate leftists alongside conservatives tired of the old guard, with one message: only he stood between the Republic and extremism. The Socialist candidate took just 6% of the vote in 2017. A party that had governed France for decades was erased in a single night. Not everyone voted for Macron. Workers, farmers, and the people of “deep France” who felt left behind drifted toward Marine Le Pen. Urban intellectuals, the French equivalents of Bernie Sanders voters in the US and Jeremy Corbyn voters in the UK, were left without a political home. Mélenchon did not wait for the collapse. He left the Socialist Party in 2008 and founded LFI in 2016. When the Socialists were trounced in 2017, he was already standing ready in the breach.

Mélenchon’s vision, what he calls the “New France” has native-born French and the children of immigrants united against a common enemy: the establishment, the bankers, the United States – and Israel.

In 2022, he won 22% of the vote and missed the second round by just 600,000 ballots. Jérôme Fourquet, a senior analyst at the research firm IFOP (Institut français d’opinion publique) describes Mélenchon’s strategy plainly as an appeal to Muslims in working-class neighborhoods who had never gone to the polls, united by enemies rather than a platform. October 7 handed him his opportunity: he justified the massacre, called Israel an apartheid state, and accused French Jews of dual loyalty. Members of his parliamentary group marched where calls for jihad were heard. Mélenchon refused to designate Hamas a terrorist organization. This is not political criticism. It meets a different definition: political antisemitism.

Before the first round, the Socialists and the Greens announced a break with Mélenchon, condemning his “intolerable” antisemitic provocations. But once the results were in, they came back to him. City by city – Toulouse, Lyon, Grenoble, Nantes, Brest, Avignon – all ended up in the same camp. What had been presented as a moral rupture dissolved into what Olivier Faure, deputy of the French National Assembly, now calls “technical mergers.” The calculation was not moral. It was demographic. For every Jewish voter in these cities there are 20 Muslim voters. Without LFI, the moderate left cannot win. Macron atomized the Socialist Party. What remains survives only in Mélenchon’s shadow.

That choice will not save it. Mélenchon is not a partner. He is a swallower. The heirs of Jean Jaurès, who risked his career to defend Dreyfus, are lending legitimacy to a man who refuses to condemn Iran. Selling their soul will only accelerate their demise. Mélenchon is not simply an antisemite with an electoral strategy. His program follows the failed model of Hugo Chávez. Venezuela, sitting atop the world’s largest oil reserves, could not feed its own people, and most of its Jewish community left during his presidency. But Chávez did not sit on the UN Security Council, did not control nuclear weapons, and was not the anchor of the European project. The consequences of a Mélenchon presidency would not be for France alone; they would also be Europe’s.

French Jews are reading the map. A recent poll found that a large majority say they will leave if he is elected. A longstanding community does not start packing its bags out of paranoia. It does so out of rational lucidity.

The pre-show is over. French democracy may not survive 2027.

Published on Ynet.

The post An antisemite could be France’s next president first appeared on The Jewish People Policy Institute.

Since the Hamas-led terrorist attacks in southern Israel on Oct. 7, 2023, the geography of Jewish fear in Europe has shifted in uncomfortable ways.

Across Western Europe, loud and sometimes violent antisemitism has surged. Synagogues require heavy security; Jewish schools operate under constant protection; and many Jews report avoiding public displays of identity. In France, Germany, Belgium and the United Kingdom, attacks, threats and intimidation have become part of everyday reality. The sense of vulnerability is no longer marginal. It is widespread and deeply felt.

At the same time, Jews in Eastern and Central Europe often describe a different experience. In countries such as Poland, Hungary and the Czech Republic, Jewish communities report lower levels of violent antisemitism and a stronger sense of personal safety. People attend synagogue services and events without police cordons. Jewish symbols are not concealed in public. The contrast with Western Europe is difficult to ignore.

Of course, this does not mean that Eastern and Central Europe are more open, liberal or tolerant societies. It means something narrower and more concrete: Jews there are less likely to face physical violence or aggressive street-level harassment. After Oct. 7, in Western European capitals, mass pro-Palestinian demonstrations often crossed the line from political protest to antisemitic intimidation. The absence of such scenes in much of Eastern and Central Europe translated into a simple but powerful feeling of security for Jews.

Several factors explain this divide. Governments in Eastern and Central Europe exert far tighter control over public order. Protests are limited, and policing is robust. Extremist movements, whether Islamist or far left, are marginal or closely monitored. Antisemitism exists, but it is more likely to appear as passive prejudice than as organized or violent action. For many Jews, especially after watching events unfold in London, Brussels or Paris, this difference matters more than abstract debates about political systems.

Western Europe, by contrast, is experiencing a collision between open societies and imported conflicts. Large-scale immigration and often the radicalization that comes with it have combined to create environments where anti-Jewish and anti-Israel violence can flourish, even as governments formally condemn it. The result is a growing gap between declared values and lived reality. Jewish communities in Western Europe hear strong words of solidarity yet face real peril on the street.

This raises an uncomfortable question. If Jews live safer in Eastern and Central Europe, can we still say they live better in the liberal democracies of Western Europe?

The traditional answer has been yes. Liberal Western Europe offers stronger institutions, more cultural openness and broader civil rights. Jewish life there has long been richer, more visible and more integrated into the public sphere. But safety is not a secondary concern; it is a precondition for everything else. A liberal society that offers freedom but cannot protect minorities from violence forces a choice between ideals and survival.

This is not an argument for illiberal democracy. It is a warning to European liberal democracies. If Western Europe cannot translate its normative values into real protection for Jews, the moral high ground will continue to erode beneath their feet. Feeling safe may not be the same as living better, but without safety, the promise of the “good life” becomes theoretical.

First published in JNS

The post The geography of Jewish fear first appeared on The Jewish People Policy Institute.

The inclusion of European ultranationalist parties with extremist or openly antisemitic pasts in an international conference on antisemitism hosted by the Diaspora Affairs Minister Amichai Chikli was not an accident or the result of a misunderstanding or bureaucratic inertia. It is part of a deliberate political process. And precisely because it was deliberate it deserves to be examined critically, not excused as political realism.

The logic behind the invitations to this week’s Jerusalem confab is fairly clear. Israeli decision-makers operate in an environment of growing diplomatic isolation and ideological polarization. They assume that once-marginal political movements may soon hold power in several European states and see early engagement as a hedge against future hostility. There is also a fear – not unfounded – of a growing convergence between radical anti-Zionist and far-right elements in the West. Keeping ultranationalist movements “close” is viewed as a way to prevent them from drifting into openly anti-Israel or antisemitic territory.

This reasoning is not naive. But realism alone does not make for sound policy. There is a profound internal contradiction in inviting movements with antisemitic legacies to a conference devoted to combating antisemitism. It is not merely symbolic; it is structural. Antisemitism is not an incidental blemish in the histories of many of these movements; it has often been at the center of their worldview. Treating it as a regrettable episode of the past, correctable through dialogue and symbolic gestures, risks trivializing the very phenomenon the conference claims to confront. Supporters of the inclusion argue that the parties have changed; they now defend Israel publicly and share Israel’s concerns about radical Islam and political violence. But alignment against a common enemy does not erase deeper ideological foundations. Many of these movements continue to promote exclusionary definitions of nationhood, in which Jews in their own countries remain conditional members of the national community at best.

Their support for Israel is often externalized. Israel is admired as a strong nation-state capable of defending its borders and asserting its identity. But Jewish minorities at home are often viewed with suspicion, ambivalence or outright hostility. This is not a contradiction for these parties; it is part of their internal logic. Israel is acceptable because Jewish sovereignty is exercised elsewhere. History should make Jews particularly sensitive to this pattern. For centuries, European antisemitism was fueled not only by religious or racial hatred but by the assertion that Jews did not truly belong to the nation, that they lacked loyalty and participated in society without fully sharing the national destiny.

Today’s ultranationalist movements may praise Israel precisely because it resolves this “problem” externally – by relocating Jewish collective existence outside Europe. That is not a break with antisemitism; it is a reformulation of it. Inviting such movements to Jerusalem does more than open a channel of communication; it grants them symbolic rehabilitation. It allows them to present themselves as legitimate actors in the fight against antisemitism without demanding a serious reckoning with their ideological assumptions. In doing so, Israel risks shifting the burden of moral clarity from them onto itself.

There is also a deeper conceptual danger. By framing antisemitism primarily through the prism of external enemies – radical Islam, the far left, militant anti-Zionism – Israel risks narrowing its definition. Antisemitism manifests not only in explicit calls for violence against Jews or the destruction of Israel, but also in conditional acceptance: admiration for Jewish power coupled with rejection of Jewish presence; praise for Israel alongside hostility toward Jews as equal citizens elsewhere.

A conference that fails to confront these distinctions risks obscuring rather than illuminating the problem. None of this implies that Israel should refuse all contact with objectionable political actors. States must sometimes interact with forces they distrust. But there is a difference between maintaining discreet channels and offering a public stage. Between dialogue and endorsement, strategic necessity and symbolic legitimacy. The question isn’t whether Israel can talk to these movements; it’s whether it should invite them to help define the global struggle against antisemitism.

At some point, realpolitik must confront its limits. A fight against antisemitism that sacrifices moral clarity may secure short-term alliances. But it risks hollowing out the meaning of the struggle and repeating, under new guises, mistakes Jews have already paid for dearly.

Published in Haaretz

The post Israel’s Risky European Outreach first appeared on The Jewish People Policy Institute.

The post Bondi Beach Terror Attack: Dr. Shuki Friedman on i24 News first appeared on The Jewish People Policy Institute.

The book on Esther’s life was published toward the end of the previous decade. The cover is a bit gaudy, but the story is captivating. “Like Cinderella,” the author writes — and indeed, Esther Abrahams’ life resembled a fable: from the margins of society to being somebody. In 1788 she arrived in Australia with the First Fleet, 11 ships carrying the first Europeans to settle the continent. They landed in Botany Bay, roughly an hour’s drive from Bondi Beach, where a deadly attack on Jews took place this week. Almost all who came were convicted felons. Instead of prison, they were exiled to a penal colony. Some were Jews. Esther was the first Jewish woman in Australia.

Esther is a name of a heroine for Purim, not Hanukkah. But she reminds us that Jews have been in Australia since the very first day white settlers arrived. They were never many, but they were generally tolerated. Muted antisemitism was also tolerated. Wherever there are Jews, you will find antisemitism. It tends to flare when there’s opportunity. During the First Lebanon War, during the Second Intifada and again now. The Australian court has dealt with Holocaust denial. The Australian parliament has condemned antisemitic incidents. The last two years have been particularly rough. There are plenty of explanations for this: tensions in the Middle East, the growing influence of minorities unsympathetic to Jews, the meddling of foreign states and the general loosening of social restraint, abetted by social media.

Israel has very few effective tools it can deploy against antisemitism in Australia. Israel’s prime minister, Benjamin Netanyahu, is known in Australia — yet it’s not clear his harsh condemnation helps. Netanyahu has become an excuse for antisemitism, a symbol, whether he likes it or not, of the unpopular face of Israel. If the Australian government decides to protect its Jews, it won’t be because he lectures them. Not even if he does it while invoking our “Maccabean ancestors” (what on earth is the connection?).

On substance, Netanyahu is of course right: the Australian government has not shown sufficient concern for its Jews. It allowed anti-Israel groups to rampage. It allowed them to demonstrate that anti-Israel sentiment is often a thin disguise for antisemitism. The Jews of Australia are few — never even one percent of the population — but influential in business, media and politics. The current government seems to be keeping some distance from them. Still, one can assume that Australians don’t want shootings on their soil. Perhaps that will push them to draw some lessons from the murderous attack at one of the continent’s most important tourist sites. As for Israel, they are unlikely to suddenly change course. The ruling party has been at odds with Netanyahu’s government for quite a while — presumably because it pays off politically. Just as Netanyahu assumes that a quarrel with the Australian prime minister serves him politically, the Australian prime minister assumes the same. (If you’re not sure this is true, imagine what would happen if, heaven forbid, 10 Jews were murdered tomorrow in an attack in the United States: do you think Netanyahu would rush to blame Donald Trump for inflaming American tensions?)

So, what can Israel do, besides protesting? Express solidarity, of course. But beyond that, it has few levers of influence. The Americans might be able to have the ear of Canberra, but Israel already has a long list of requests from Washington. So it’s better if the initiative for such proding from Washington comes from someplace else.

And of course, there are the Jews themselves — first and foremost in Australia, and alongside them Jews elsewhere. Within limits, they can and should use their power wisely, strategically, coolly. There are ways to persuade politicians to change policy. Usually it happens when they face a clear choice: change — or pay a political price.

Expectations should remain realistic. Instead of crying gevalt — something the Maccabees did not do — Jews should prepare, as the Maccabees did. To prepare means, among other things, to arm. Jews need weapons — even in Australia. To prepare means to train. Jews need to know how to respond quickly to a shooting, without waiting for police who may take time to arrive. To prepare means to plan wisely. That doesn’t mean avoiding public gatherings – Jews should not have to hide. But if they don’t hide, sometimes they will get hurt. That’s tragic, infuriating, but worth remembering: Jews are killed in Israel too. Even here, the security forces don’t always arrive on time. Each person must weigh where to go, and what to avoid.

To prepare also means to recognize, without acceptance, that this is the world in which we live today. Enlightenment didn’t end antisemitism. Secularization didn’t end it. Education didn’t end it. Zionism didn’t end it. Globalization didn’t end it. Liberalism didn’t end it. The Jews were not defeated — but neither was antisemitism. The Jews know how to survive ­— and so do the antisemites. It’s a long war, and no one knows when or if it will ever end.

So what did we learn from Bondi Beach? Sadly, almost nothing new. Bondi Beach is now another name on an already crowded map of places where Jews were murdered. Not unique. Not different. Just another reminder of the constant Jewish need to guard, and to be on guard.

Jewish Journal

The post Who Will Protect Australia’s Jews? first appeared on The Jewish People Policy Institute.

As the world is shocked by the Bondi Beach Hanukkah massacre, and as experts pontificate about fighting abstractions like “hate,” too many ignore the most effective move Australia – and other countries – can make.

Australian Prime Minister Anthony Albanese should say: “Palestinian terrorists and their supporters keep trying to advance the Palestinian cause by slaughtering innocents, Jews and non-Jews alike. Today, rather than impotently claiming ‘terrorism doesn’t work,’ we will prove it with one action. Terrorism doesn’t work – it backfires: Australia hereby rescinds its recognition of a Palestinian state.”

Instead, after two antisemitic anti-Zionists murdered 15 innocents and wounded dozens, Albanese guaranteed that the problem won’t end; he claimed that Australia’s recognizing of a fictitious Palestinian state didn’t encourage the Jew-slaughter.

Such head-in-the-sand thinking is like denying the link between Hitler’s Mein Kampf and the Holocaust. Mein Kampf wasn’t just a bestseller, and Australia’s pro-Palestinian stance isn’t just a policy. Since the 1970s, the world has repeatedly rewarded Palestinian terrorism by advancing the Palestinian cause. Since Hamas’s unspeakable barbarism on October 7, it’s become super-trendy to enable terror and greenlight Jew-hatred.

When terrorism is rewarded

Ghazi Hamad, a Qatari-based Hamas leader whom Western useful idiots deemed “pragmatic,” called Australia and other countries recognizing a Palestinian state one of the “fruits of October 7.”

Hamas celebrated the recognition as an “important step” and a “deserved outcome of our people’s struggle.”

Terrorists aren’t stupid. Western leaders claim “terrorism never works,” yet their appeasement and cowardice spur more violence. That’s why since 2000, over 106,000 terrorist attacks worldwide have murdered 249,941 people. Since October 7, 8,670 terrorist attacks – including stone-throwing – occurred in Judea and Samaria.

There’s a fine line between exploiting a tragedy for political reasons and disincentivizing terrorism. But Bondi Beach wasn’t some natural disaster.

It was an unnatural aberration, perpetrated by monsters and fed by a monstrous anti-Zionist ideology blurring support for a Palestinian state, traditional Jew-hatred, and a desire to eliminate the Jewish state. Just because this anti-Zionist antisemitism gets traction in reaction to Israeli actions or leaders, it’s still motivated by a fury that Israel is – not what Israel does.

The logic is clear. Terrorism is politically motivated violence. Punishing the political cause discourages the terrorists. That’s why the way to stop antisemitic terrorism is to rescind recognition of the Palestinian state and encourage Palestinian civil society.

Bondi Beach should challenge the Jewish world too. Jews in countries emboldening terrorists by recognizing this bound-to-be-undemocratic Palestinian state must ask: have we truly shouted our displeasure, pressured our leaders, and shown the kind of spine we want Albanese and others to grow?

For decades, Jews’ accommodation politics worked in Australia, Great Britain, and Canada. But as their governments turn on Israel, communities there must master a new politics of confrontation – understanding that fighting against antisemitism and for Israel is a fight for true liberal democracy and the West’s soul.

Second, everyone must ask: are we raising our children to have the courage, grit, and strength demonstrated by Ahmed al-Ahmed, the fruit vendor turned hero who tackled a terrorist?

Israeli parents can answer “yes.” Can others? If not, why? Many should stop raising their kids to fit in and start teaching them to stand up, strong and tall, for others, including their own. They need a new conception – and new parenting guides – understanding that a strong sense of particular identity, including loyalty to your people, actually is the best way to create rooted, grounded, civic heroes who are gutsy and self-sacrificing.

Finally, beware of the conversational winds shifting in New York, as Jews risk catching Stockholm Syndrome, accepting Zohran Mamdani, who is still campaigning to be America’s leading anti-Zionist antisemite. Yes, Bondi Beach proves again how antisemitic anti-Zionists are, how the Palestinian national movement has intertwined the two, and how the burden of proof is on anti-Zionists – not Jews – to prove they aren’t Jew-haters.

No, I don’t agree that Mamdani “understood the fissures of our community better than we ourselves did” – why give him such credit? That’s not what happened. Does anyone believe anti-Zionist Jews went woke because American Jews don’t criticize Israel enough?

Bibi-bashing has long been a favorite sport among American Jews. Moreover, although Google AI notes that “prominent American Jews have been criticizing Zionism and Israel since before the state was founded in 1948,” for 30 years, at least, American Jews have been “hugging and wrestling” with Israel – a phrase coined in 2004, eight years after the radical Israel-bashing group, Jewish Voice for Peace, was founded.

Perhaps, rather than rabbis blaming Israel for the Jews’ alienation from Judaism and the Jewish state, we should re-examine how rabbis – and parents – teach about Israel, Zionism, and Judaism. Do they view Israel through the B-B-B – Bibi-bashing partisan lens – rather than the B to B … Bible to Birthright identity-building lens?

Have they taught Jews to recognize their true enemies, even if they’re perfumed with human rights talk or masked by Mamdani-style high-flying rhetoric? Can they distinguish between those who criticize what Israel does and those who reject that Israel is?

It’s no coincidence that a disproportionate number of the young Jews leading Hillel proudly today – and much of the Jewish community – are day school graduates. They lead not because they’re programmed to be mindless, pro-Israel right-wingers but because they’re educated to be thoughtful, nuanced, caring Jews, who recognize how central Israel is to their Jewish identity and our Jewish future.

It’s too easy to blame Israel for letting Jews down; sadly, too many Jews have let Israel down.

Originally published in JPost

The post Make terrorism backfire: Rescinding recognition of ‘Palestine’ first appeared on The Jewish People Policy Institute.

French President Emmanuel Macron’s open letter to Prime Minister Netanyahu, published in the daily Le Monde, was presented as a solemn appeal for peace and a firm response to antisemitism. But two illusions underlie its lofty rhetoric: that recognition of Palestine will bring peace and that it will protect French Jews. Both are false.

Canada, Germany, Italy, and Belgium, have stepped back from Macron’s initiative in recent days, arguing that the Palestinian Authority has yet to meet the conditions of statehood. If France goes it alone at the UN next month, this may well devolve into a major diplomatic flop. Macron insists on a demilitarized Palestinian state and the dismantling of Hamas. But he has made the case for how recognition will advance those goals.

Logic and precedent suggest otherwise. Once recognition is granted, Hamas will have little incentive to make concessions or release hostages. Macron’s démarche has already hardened Hamas’s stance in negotiations. Rewarding terrorism with a diplomatic prize does not build peace; it breeds defiance and intransigence.

Macron’s letter also claims his government is assiduously addressing rising antisemitism, but his statehood initiative will, in reality, aggravate it. One quarter of French citizens under 35 now celebrate Ramadan, a demographic shift that weighs heavily on electoral politics. By championing the Palestinian cause, Macron appeals to that constituency, even if the cost is borne by the country’s Jews.

Recognition of Palestine will fuel the fires of antisemitism in France. On the French street, such a move translates as support for the Islamist groups that justify antisemitic violence. It signals that their cause has been validated by the president.

Some factual context: Reported antisemitic incidents in France numbered 1,700 in 2024, nearly 300% higher than two years earlier. French Jews endure physical aggression almost daily – intimidation at schools, assaults near synagogues, harassment in public spaces. Macron’s recognition will only embolden his nation’s antisemites.

France’s room for maneuver is further constrained by dependence on Qatar. Doha holds a significant share of French debt and has invested €40–50 billion into the French economy, from real estate to key industries to sports. Paris also signed a 28-year gas supply deal with Qatar, ensuring long-term reliance on a state that bankrolls Islamist networks in Europe. Between the pull of the Arab street and Doha’s financial leverage, Macron’s operational independence is shrinking.

And this dependence reflects broader weakness.

Public debt has climbed to €3.345 trillion, or 111% of GDP. Interest payments will reach €62 billion in 2025, an amount equal to the entire education budget. Foreign investment fell 12% in 2024. Youth unemployment afflicts one in four. And 70% of French citizens say they no longer trust their institutions.

Abroad, France has been forced to withdraw from Niger, Mali, and Burkina Faso, where Russia filled the vacuum. Repeated concessions to Algeria did not bring partnership. Two French hostages remain in Iran. In Syria, Paris is marginalized. At the United Nations, it is often isolated. This diminished France presumes to dictate conditions for peace in the Middle East.

The recent episode with US Ambassador to France Charles Kushner, highlights the fragility of Macron’s stance. After Kushner’s letter decrying antisemitism in France, Macron summoned him to Paris. However, Kushner refused and dispatched an underling instead. Under the Vienna Convention of 1961, this should have led to loss of accreditation and a polite escort to Terminal 101 at Charles de Gaulle Airport. Macron, however, did no such thing, knowing that US President Donald Trump would respond by expelling the French ambassador from Washington.

Confronting Netanyahu and scolding French Jews is easy. The real question is whether Macron will ever show the same resolve toward the United States.

Originally published in JPost

The post Macron’s illusions: How his Palestinian push fuels antisemitism, weakens France first appeared on The Jewish People Policy Institute.