A liberal society that offers freedom but cannot protect minorities from violence forces a choice between ideals and survival.
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.