The Right, Left and Antisemitism
A Q and A with Dr. James Loeffler about what both sides of the political spectrum are getting wrong about antisemitism.
By Ailee Shanes
Original art by Brooke Cohen-Pinsky
In 2017, white nationalists marched with lit torches at the University of Virginia campus in Charlottesville, VA, shouting, “Jews will not replace us.” The event—known as the “Unite the Right” rally—was organized by reported white supremacists and neo-Nazis like Richard Spencer, Jason Kessler and Christopher Cantwell. They claimed to protest the proposed removal of a Robert E. Lee statue from a park named after the Confederate general, but the rally quickly became a catalyst for hate and intimidation.
The “Unite the Right” rally prompted a range of responses by political and university leaders, but many failed to address the problems of antisemitism in the United States. For example, Teresa Sullivan, the president of UVA, condemned the rally as racist, homophobic and misogynistic – yet made no mention of its explicitly antisemitic nature. Similar failures to confront antisemitism resurfaced following the Hamas attacks on Oct. 7, 2023, and the impending Israel-Hamas War. To put this in perspective, the Anti-Defamation League recorded under 2,000 antisemitic incidents in 2017, the year of the march. By 2024, that number had risen to over 9,000.
Dr. James Loeffler, director of the Leonard and Helen R. Stulman Jewish Studies Program at Johns Hopkins University, visited the University of Florida this fall as part of the Forum for Fairness in Discourse lecture series. In his talk, “How Charlottesville Changed America,” he explored how antisemitism spreads across the political spectrum and intersects with debates over free speech—offering a sharp, timely look at how hate persists and how society responds.
Loeffler spoke with HaTanin Journal editor Aileyahu Shanes to discuss his research and reflect on what recent events reveal about the changing nature of antisemitism since 2017.
You began research about antisemitism and free speech in 2017, the same year as the “Unite the Right” march at the University of Virginia in Charlottesville, VA, where you taught. Why was that event such a critical moment for Jews in the United States, and what did you take away from it?
At the time, I taught at UVA and went on to become director of Jewish Studies, so I had a front-row seat. Two things struck me.
First, there was a kind of forgetting about what could have stopped the protest before it turned violent. The weekend began with a torchlight procession using tiki torches through campus. That actually violated a state law written to prevent the KKK from cross-burnings and similar marches. The law had been upheld by the Supreme Court, but no one thought to use it. I was frustrated because it wouldn’t have violated free speech. It was a valid law. I wanted to know why no one thought of it, and what else in our legal history we’ve forgotten that might help balance equal rights and free speech.
Second, even with so much antisemitism in that moment, people didn’t know how to talk about it. Even those opposed to racism and hatred often left antisemitism out. On campus, there was a push for unity and tolerance, but antisemitism dropped out of the story. I wanted to understand why, because these people weren’t antisemitic; they just didn’t know where to put Jews in the story of reckoning with hatred.
What explanations have you found for these things?
Many Americans misunderstood antisemitism. They thought of it only as religious hatred. Since many Jews are seen as white, they didn’t fit into conversations about racism. Others associated antisemitism only with the Holocaust or the Middle East. Because Jews were often seen as successful and well-liked in America, people assumed they weren’t in danger.
Quickly, antisemitism also became tied up with the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. On the Left, some activists said they wouldn’t work on antisemitism unless Jewish students clarified their stance on Israel and Palestine. On the Right, some ignored antisemitism in their own ranks but emphasized it as a problem on the Left. Politics distracted from an honest discussion of antisemitism.
Within the Jewish community, some see antisemitism on the Left as the main problem, while others focus on the Right, pointing to white supremacy and fascism. How do you respond to this sentiment within Jewish spaces?
It’s very polarizing, inside the Jewish community and in American society. There’s too much finger-pointing and “whataboutism.” We have to move past that.
Any solution has to be comprehensive. We need to acknowledge that antisemitism exists on both the Right and the Left. At the same time, not everything critical of Israel is antisemitic. We shouldn’t exaggerate what comes from the side we dislike, nor should we dismiss everything from the side we identify with.
We need clarity about what Jews fear. Is that [fear] the danger of physical assault? Is it being denied equal status and dignity? These are different harms, and we need clarity about them rather than hyperbole.
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In his UF lecture, Loeffler mentioned the categories of exclusion, occlusion and extrusion when referring to how the Left and Right address antisemitism today.
Exclusion refers to only acknowledging the issues of antisemitism in specific contexts. For example, after Oct.7, Loeffler says some on the progressive Left said Jews couldn’t be included in social and political movements unless they took a certain stance on Zionism. That excluded Jews from progressive spaces unless they met political criteria.
Occlusion means blocking something out. Before Oct. 7, many university leaders struggled to see where antisemitism fit alongside diversity and equality efforts. For example, after the Charlottesville “Unite the Right” rally, many statements condemned white supremacy and fascism but didn’t mention Jews. It wasn’t out of antisemitism, but out of not knowing how Jews fit into the story.
Loeffler describes extrusion as an approach to antisemitism that assigns it far more weight [or disproportionate] than other forms of hatred. For example, on the Right, Loeffler says there is a focus on antisemitism while dialing back other civil rights programs. Leaders spotlight antisemitism but dismiss other forms of discrimination. It becomes the one kind of hatred they emphasize, while ignoring or excusing antisemitism in their own ranks.
“All of these approaches are missing something,” Loeffler says. “The goal of these terms is to help us see what’s being overlooked and to push everyone—Left, Right and Center—into a more honest conversation.”
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On extrusion, would you say the Right sometimes uses antisemitism as a distraction from the antisemitism within its own party and leaders?
Yes. Often, it’s deflection. A politician might say something offensive about Jews or the Holocaust, but if they’re a strong supporter of Israel, allies excuse it. That’s irresponsible. Everyone needs to address antisemitism in their own house.
Historically, Jews marched alongside Martin Luther King Jr. in the Civil Rights Movement. Given that history, are you surprised to see today’s exclusion of Jews, especially on the Left?
Not entirely. There were real moments of unity in the 1960s, but also tensions: about how far the movement should go about racial identity and about affirmative action. Some Jewish groups supported affirmative action, while others opposed it, and that caused conflict.
What is different today is how politicized antisemitism has become, and how central Israel is to the discussion. In the 1960s, there were debates about Israel, but they weren’t at the center. Today, Israel dominates the conversation, often overshadowing antisemitism itself.
Your research also looks at free speech. What should the strategy be for Jews trying to balance protection and the First Amendment while fighting antisemitic hate speech?
The strategy has to begin with a commitment to the rule of law and due process. Protections must be legal and consistent. We shouldn’t cut corners to isolate threats.
We need to balance equal protection with free speech. There’s more we can do legally: on online hate, anti-doxxing laws and anti-masking laws to prevent intimidation. But whatever we ask for, we must be willing to live with it ourselves if it’s applied to others.
We can’t say, “We’re for free speech, but not that protest.” At the same time, we can’t accept “anything goes.” The key is a consistent and legal approach.
Does this require Jews across the political spectrum to bridge divides, especially between Zionist and anti-Zionist Jews?
Yes. We don’t have to erase political differences, but we do need to talk across them. History shows deep divisions in Jewish communities, but also moments when they came together in the face of common threats.
We need to do that again, ask what protections we want under the law and accept that they will apply broadly, even in ways that make us uncomfortable.
Finally, you’ve said you’re optimistic for Jewish life in the United States. Why?
There are three reasons:
First, Jewish history is one of resilience and survival. Even in catastrophic times, Jews have endured. That’s important to remember when people feel panic or despair.
Second, Jews in America are not the only minority. Unlike in Europe’s past, where Jews were often the sole scapegoats, here there are many minorities. That makes the story more complex and creates opportunities for alliances.
Third, America’s democratic institutions remain strong. Our civil society is resilient, and our educational institutions, despite their flaws, still aim to prepare leaders to think responsibly about these challenges. That gives me hope.
Ailee Shanes is a graduate student at the University of Florida studying mass communications. He is an award-winning journalist and reporter at WUFT-FM, the NPR member station of North Central Florida.