Sometimes I feel like I could write the same column every week: It was never about a ceasefire. It was never about genocide. It was never about starvation. And it was never about Palestinians. It was and is about Israel and about Jews. It is about hatred for both and the desire to see them destroyed or, at best, marginalized. This week’s resurgence of local anti-Israel activity — divestment campaigns in Denver and Arvada amid the ceasefire in Gaza — is evidence.
A professor at my openly anti-Israel alma mater, the London School of Economics, recently shared on LinkedIn his concern for the higher education environment in the West Bank amid IDF activity. Oddly, I haven’t seen this person post a single time about Jewish and Israeli speakers literally run off campus with violent threats (UC Berkeley) or about Jewish and Israeli students physically from attending class (MIT) — and those are just two examples off the top of my head.
He certainly wasn’t concerned when the LSE hosted the official launch for a book that not only essentially excuses Hamas’ civilian massacre, but claims it (mostly) didn’t happen. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if Israel- and Jew-haters magnify their efforts now that national and international attention has been somewhat diverted.
For me, the two-pronged antidote remains the same. As a member of the press, it’s to call out the haters and hold those who support them accountable.
As an individual Jew, the antidote is to live and celebrate my Jewish identity.
I continue to find that in one-on-one encounters, I am met with little to no overt anti-Semitism. It’s very possible some of these people may be anti-Israel, or even anti-Semitic, but if they are, they’re not voicing those views.
The more we interact individually with others — in person, not online — the greater opportunity we have to show people who we really are, not who others seek to define us as.
Shana Goldberg may be reached at shana@ijn.com
© IJN 2026
