Freepik
A person holding a protest sign saying "Stop weaponizing antisem
My family’s life is deeply rooted in Jewish values, community, and the pursuit of justice. My wife is a rabbi in Madison, my son serves as a rabbi in Chicago, my oldest daughter moved to Israel almost eight years ago, and my youngest daughter teaches at a Jewish day school in Brooklyn. I am deeply proud of each of them, and of the way our family tries to live out the Jewish values of justice, compassion, and communal responsibility.
We are also active beyond the Jewish world, working toward social justice for many who are less fortunate. Like many Jews, we see “Tikkun Olam” — the idea of repairing the world — as a religious and moral obligation. Growing up, I studied the history that led to the Holocaust, never imagining I would see some of those dark currents reappear in my own country during my lifetime.
The fear of antisemitism has never been far from my mind, especially now. Although I have been lucky not to face overt antisemitism personally, I am acutely aware of the dangers my loved ones face. Every week, my wife leads Sabbath services while quietly scanning the room, wondering where the next threat might come from. She wears an emergency call button to the police while conducting services. The sacred spaces that should inspire prayer and community could quickly turn into the next “Tree Of Life” synagogue tragedy.
Given all of this, one might expect me to welcome Donald Trump’s recent efforts to challenge and penalize colleges and universities he accuses of antisemitic behavior. After all, there is real antisemitism on some campuses today, and universities must do more to protect Jewish students. But I cannot support Trump’s actions — because they are not about protecting Jews. They are about using antisemitism as a political weapon to attack academic institutions, suppress free speech, and dismantle efforts toward diversity, equity and inclusion.
Many Jewish organizations recognize this. The Jewish Council for Public Affairs, supported by 10 major Jewish groups including three of the four largest Jewish denominations, recently issued a strong statement reaffirming that Jewish safety in America has always been tied to the health of democracy. "The rule of law, freedom of inquiry, access to vibrant places of higher education, and strong democratic norms and institutions have allowed American Jewry to thrive for hundreds of years," the statement reads. "There should be no doubt that antisemitism is rising — visible, chilling, and increasingly normalized…. It requires urgent and consistent action by our nation’s political, academic, religious and civic leaders. At the same time, we firmly reject the false choice between confronting antisemitism and upholding democracy."
In short, we cannot protect Jewish life by abandoning the values that have protected all minority communities.
Similarly, the American Jewish Committee has criticized the Trump administration’s sweeping attacks on universities, warning that these cuts to federal funding — justified under the banner of fighting antisemitism — would devastate America’s reputation as a center of innovation and research. Undermining our world-class universities does not make Jews safer. It isolates us, and it weakens the very institutions that have historically opened their doors to Jewish students and faculty.
It is interesting that the universities most aggressively fighting back are led by Jewish presidents: Harvard’s Alan Garber, Princeton’s Christopher Eisgruber, Stanford’s Jonathan Levin, Wesleyan’s Michael Roth, and MIT’s Sally Kornbluth, among others. These Jewish leaders have not only spoken out against the administration’s actions but, in many cases, joined lawsuits to resist them. Far from ignoring antisemitism, they are on the front lines of defining it responsibly and defending the institutions under threat.
Roth captured the dilemma powerfully in a recent New York Times opinion piece. As the first Jewish president of a formerly Methodist university, Roth wrote, "Jew hatred is real, but today’s anti-antisemitism isn’t a legitimate effort to fight it. It’s a cover for a wide range of agendas that have nothing to do with the welfare of Jewish people. All of these agendas...endanger the principles and institutions that have actually made this country great." Jews, he warned, who cheer the administration’s crackdown now may soon find that they have weakened the very protections that have made Jewish flourishing possible in America.
Meanwhile, five Jewish Democratic senators recently signed a letter condemning the administration’s approach. They wrote that they were "extremely troubled and disturbed" by what they called "broad and extra-legal attacks against universities and higher education institutions," accusing Trump of using a real crisis — rising antisemitism — as a pretext to punish political opponents and dismantle critical academic institutions.
It’s also hard to believe President Trump’s concern for Jewish safety is sincere when he and his party have frequently embraced individuals and movements associated with antisemitic rhetoric. Examples of this are Trump’s support of white supremacy groups and his dinner at Mar-a-Lago with a Holocaust-denying white nationalist. True commitment to fighting antisemitism would include distancing himself from such matters and people, not just targeting universities that stand for critical thinking, free speech, and diversity.
In the end, Trump's weaponization of antisemitism does real harm. It diminishes the seriousness of true antisemitic threats, weakens vital institutions, chills free speech, and jeopardizes international research and student exchange. It divides Americans at a time when unity against hate is more urgently needed than ever.
Last week we commemorated “Yom HaShoah,” Holocaust Remembrance Day. I grew up learning the phrase “Never again” relating to the Holocaust. In order to make that phrase a reality we all are faced with the difficult challenge of doing what we can to make sure it never happens again. But honoring that promise requires vigilance not only against open hatred but also against the misuse of power. I believe it is important to make sure people know: Many Jews do not support what is happening to our universities — and we refuse to have our pain used as a tool for political destruction.
Scott Forester is chief financial officer for Recovery.com in Madison.
