The fight against antisemitism needs an upgrade

If we want to fight antisemitism today, why do we keep talking about the past as if it alone will save us in the present?

Because here is the hard truth:

Antisemitism has not gone away; it has simply changed its costume. Today, the world’s oldest hatred has found its most socially acceptable form in anti-Zionism and anti-Israel activism. Jew-hatred has rebranded itself, cloaked in the language of human rights and social justice, embedding itself in progressive spaces. It calls itself “anti-colonial” while demanding the world’s only Jewish state vanish. It claims to be “anti-racist” while insisting the Jewish people give up their right to self-determination in their ancestral homeland.

It is the same hatred, modernised, sanitised, and repackaged for TikTok, campus protests, and social media feeds.

When Jewish students are singled out on campus because of Israel, that is antisemitism. When Zionism—the belief that the Jewish people have the same right to nationhood as every other people—is demonised while no other people’s right is questioned, that is antisemitism. When chants for a “global intifada” and calls for Israel’s destruction are normalised as activism, that too is antisemitism.

And when we see what we saw in Melbourne this past week, it is unmistakable antisemitism.

An Israeli restaurant was attacked, and a synagogue was set on fire while people were inside. These were not protests about policy—they were attacks on Jewish Australians for daring to exist openly as Jews.

Anti-Zionism and anti-Israel rhetoric are not separate from antisemitism; they are the latest face of antisemitism. The Robert Menzies Institute rightly notes that antisemitism disguised as anti-Zionism still singles out Jews by denying their collective rights and national aspirations—something demanded of no other people.

And until we recognise this, and teach it clearly, we will keep fighting yesterday’s fight with yesterday’s tools, leaving the next generation defenceless against today’s reality.

For decades, our response to antisemitism has rightly included Holocaust education: bringing students, teachers, community leaders, and politicians into museums to stand before black-and-white photographs and hear the stories of the gas chambers, yellow stars, and the righteous among the nations. This is essential. It preserves memory, honours the victims, and reminds us of where hatred leads if left unchallenged.

But on its own, it is not enough. We cannot expect knowledge of history’s darkest chapter to inoculate the next generation—or society more broadly—against the latest forms of antisemitism, especially when they disguise themselves as moral causes.

It hasn’t worked because we have left the field open for others to define Israel and Zionism for us: to paint them as colonialism, racism, and oppression, while we answer back with half-hearted apologies, out-of-context history lessons, and facts that never reach those who have already decided what they want to believe.

It is no secret that Israel is terrible at public relations. It tries to counter a TikTok lie with a 47-slide PowerPoint. It assumes people care about context in a world that runs on emotion and headlines. It tries to fact-check feelings—and loses every emotional argument before it starts.

We need a new approach to Israeli education.

This does not mean abandoning Holocaust education—far from it. It means placing it within the larger story of Jewish resilience, survival, and peoplehood, a story that does not end in trauma but in sovereignty and renewal. It means teaching Israel not as a conflict but as a living, complicated, remarkable society—the modern expression of an ancient people’s right to be free in their own land.

The International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance (IHRA) is clear: education must address not only the past but also the new forms of antisemitism, including anti-Zionism. We must equip people to recognise that what hides behind slogans and hashtags is the same hatred, simply repackaged.

We need to move from defensive education to confident education. From “please don’t hate us” to: Here is who we are. Here is why it matters. Here is why Israel matters—to the Jewish people and to the world.

This shift is not just smart strategy. It is essential for Jewish continuity and safety. Antisemitism, anti-Zionism, and anti-Israel hate are not separate threats—they are branches of the same poisoned tree. Until we teach that truth, we will keep losing ground.

If we want to equip the next generation, we must give them more than the past. We must give them the present and the tools to shape a future where they do not have to apologise for who they are.

So here is the question we must ask:

Are we ready to stop playing defence and start teaching the whole truth about Israel?

Because if we don’t, others will keep teaching the lie.