AJC’s State of Antisemitism Report 2025: Behind the Numbers
Here are five stories that illustrate some of the troubling findings from AJC's State of Antisemitism Report 2025.
In November of 2025, protesters gathered outside a Manhattan synagogue to chant “Globalize the Intifada” and “Death to the IDF” interrupting visitors entering to learn more about immigrating to Israel – a return long driven by persecution around the world.
According to the latest annual State of Antisemitism in America Report released by American Jewish Committee (AJC) on February 10, 2026, a majority of American Jews believe antisemitism has become a “very serious” problem at home. Protests like that one in November seem to illustrate some of the reasons why.
This year’s survey revealed roughly nine in 10 (91%) American Jews say they feel less safe as a Jewish person in the U.S. as a result of attacks on Jews in the past 12 months, including the arson attack on a Jewish governor’s home in Pennsylvania, the firebombing of Jews in Boulder, Colorado, and the murder of a young couple outside the Capital Jewish Museum in Washington, D.C.
The latest report also asked – for the first time – how the use of the phrase “Globalize the Intifada” may impact American Jews’ feelings of safety, whether they had felt uncomfortable or even excluded from groups or spaces because of their Jewish identity, and whether they are concerned that generative artificial intelligence will further the spread of antisemitism.
Here are five stories that illustrate some of this year’s troubling findings.
Antisemitism on college campuses: ‘Maybe it’s a lot more prevalent than I originally thought’
Survey findings:
When recent or current students were asked about their overall experience as a college or university student, roughly four in 10 (42%) report experiencing antisemitism at least once during their time in college or university. The percentage from AJC’s 2024 survey was 35% in 2024.
It started as an ordinary stroll across campus to grab some dinner with newfound friends. And as happens in many casual conversations in college, the subject drifted to politics. That’s when Oz Alon, a 19-year-old chemistry major at Emory University, felt the ground shift beneath his feet.
He was used to explaining Israel’s defensive war in Gaza after the October 7, 2023, Hamas terror attacks that murdered more than 1,200 Israelis. But he did not expect to defend Jews in the context of another terror attack – the September 11, 2001, terror attacks on the U.S.
The immediate and unequivocal indictment of Jews caught Alon completely off guard. Nothing he said could change their minds.
“They started pulling up all this evidence, easily disproven, of course, but at the same time you can’t disprove someone or talk to someone who doesn’t want to hear,” he said. “It’s always the people with tin foil hats. I never expected it to be something I’d see on a college campus. There’s a barrier of entry here where you have to be somewhat knowledgeable and not subscribe to crazy views like that. Maybe it’s a lot more prevalent than I originally thought.”
One of the students argued that the Jewish owner of the Twin Towers orchestrated the terror attack to file an insurance claim – perpetuating a common antisemitic trope known as Jewish lightning.
Another pointed to a clip of Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu in 1996, anticipating an attack on the Twin Towers. Never mind that Al Qaeda had already tried to topple the iconic skyscrapers in 1993, killing six people and causing relatively minor damage, as Al Qaeda and other radical Islamist groups only intensified.
“Don’t you think it’s a little bit weird that all of these things piled together?” they asked Alon, who was actually thinking it was weird that college students would fall for conspiracy theories and a bit brazen that the students weren’t bothering to hide behind a code word or label to disguise their disdain for Jews.
“What I’ve noticed is nowadays it’s easy to get away with saying things, as long as you avoid the J-word. I can say ‘All Zionists need to die,’ which is more socially acceptable, especially on college campuses. I’ve heard it multiple times. They try to change the word when they make broad claims. Instead of saying this or that, he straight-up blamed Jews. Jews control the government. Jews did 9/11. What concerns me is it’s just going to grow and grow and grow especially with all this new technology. People can’t tell what’s real and not real anymore, what history has been revised. In the next 20 years, we’re just going to see it get worse and worse.”
Protecting kids from antisemitism: ‘You want to believe the world is better than it is’
Survey findings:
Just over nine in 10 Jewish adults (93%) say antisemitism is a very serious or somewhat serious problem in the United States.30% of American Jews say they have avoided certain places, events or situations out of concern for their safety or comfort as a Jewish person.
In search of something different to do with their four children for Halloween, Manhattan realtor Kobi Lahav and his wife took their children trick-or-treating on Governor’s Island, a year-round public park in New York Harbor that features historic homes filled with art installations.
Dressed as their favorite animals – a fox, duck, axolotl, and rabbit – Lahav’s kids joined scores of other trick-or-treaters filling their bags with Kit Kats, Oreos, and Skittles, until they reached the inviting front porch of a yellow wood-frame art studio. As their children waited outside, Lahav and his wife took turns examining the antisemitic horror show inside.
Lahav, who is Jewish with Israeli roots, was horrified. On display for all ages to see were a road sign labeled “F-k Israel Lane,” a poster calling Israel’s existence “beyond the pale,” and another poster with a raised fist declaring “Free Palestine” and “Abolish Israel.”
“The amount of hate on that wall was pretty mind-boggling,” Lahav said. “For me, this was not free speech, not art. This was obviously hatred. Someone put it there for a specific reason.”
Other pieces on display celebrated terrorists, including one that read “Hamas Lover” with an inverted red triangle, a photograph of Yahya Al-Sinwar, the architect of the October 7 Hamas terror attack, and a painting of a flag representing the Hezbollah terror group.
“I don’t get rattled easily,” he said. “I’ve seen stuff. But when your kids are involved, it’s a different kind of rattling. You don’t want them exposed to this kind of hate before they can process it. I never thought this would be a situation where it’s normalized as art at a family event.”
To avoid a confrontation with the artist in front of his children, he walked out, steered his children to a nearby playground, and immediately called the New York City mayor’s office, the New York City Council, and the Trust for Governor’s Island.
The Trust for Governor’s Island and then-Mayor Eric Adams condemned the exhibit, and it was immediately removed. Since then, Lahav has doubled down on volunteering and supporting efforts to fight antisemitism.
“You want to believe the world is better than it is, especially for our kids,” he said. “You see something like that, you realize we’ve got a real problem here. It’s a real issue. I haven’t seen anyone put up anti-Russian art because of what’s going on in Ukraine. You don’t see that with Iran. You realize that if you let these things fester, you’re kind of allowing other people to dictate the world in which my kids are going to grow up. I’ve got to fix this.”
Where Jews experience hate most frequently: online and on social media
Survey findings:
More than seven in 10 Jewish adults report having experienced antisemitism online or on social media – including those who say they have been personally targeted and those who say they have seen or heard antisemitic incidents without being a target themselves.Jewish women are more likely to avoid posting content online out of fear of antisemitism than their male counterparts (50% vs. 30%). Jewish women are also more likely than their male counterparts to experience antisemitism on Facebook (62% vs. 49%) and Instagram (45% vs. 35%).
Amy Albertson (aka @theamyalbertson) is a Chinese-American Jewish woman and social media influencer – what many millennials and Gen Zs would consider a dream job. But it comes with a cost. Albertson swallows daily doses of antisemitism and then some.
“Generally, most of the antisemitism I experience always comes with the addition of sexist or misogynist comments, comments about me being Asian, delegitimizing my Jewishness or telling me the Jews don’t accept me, body shaming, calling me ugly, calling me fat. It’s almost always a combo. It’s not always just about the Jews. They can’t stick to the topic.”
Albertson, 34, didn’t grow up going to synagogue or Jewish summer camp. She tapped into her Jewish heritage while attending college in Portland, Oregon. Before she knew it, she had started a group on campus to teach her peers about the importance of Israel to the Jewish people.
She launched her online advocacy after she made Aliyah in 2015. Under the digital moniker @theAsianIsraeli, she offered tips for other olim, or Jewish immigrants who move to Israel, helping to translate voting information during Israel’s four back-to-back elections. When the coronavirus hit in 2020, her moniker took on new meaning as prejudice spiked against both Asians and Jews.
But nothing compares to the prejudice she regularly sees online and in her inbox, which she occasionally spotlights and skewers on her Instagram feed. In July, she shared a handful of the DMs she had received that week, including “Zionists … can’t wait for every single one of you to boil in a pot of sh*t.”
In August, she shared screenshots of a Reddit group titled “Amy Albertson is So Annoying” that debated the origins of such a “fiercely Zionist Asian.” “She infuriates me because she is a genocide supporter,” said one user. “And don’t you dare call me antisemitic because I’m incredibly involved in Jewish American culture. If anything is worth snarking on in this world, it’s Asians who justify mass murder.”
Albertson doesn’t share the nasty comments to garner sympathy or to provoke the haters. She shares it to show solidarity with others who might be on the receiving end of similar vitriol.
“I wish more people knew that being an unapologetic and proud Jew is way more empowering than it is scary,” she wrote in a separate post, modeling Star of David earrings and necklaces. But she understands why some people are not comfortable wearing their Jewishness on their sleeve and she knows that does not make them any less proud to be Jewish. In some ways, she’s bedecking herself on their behalf.
“It’s risky. You always have to weigh those physical risks for you and your family,” she said. “I always want to encourage people not to give in. We’re not hiding. It’s on them. It’s not on you. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Antisemitism in the arts: ‘The more ugliness there is, the more beauty I create’
Survey findings:
More than half (55%) of American Jews say they have avoided at least one of the three behaviors asked about: certain places, events or situations out of concern for their safety or comfort as a Jewish person; publicly wearing or displaying things that might identify them as a Jew; or posting content online that would identify them as a Jew or reveal their views on Jewish issues.
For six months after October 7, 2023, Israeli-American street painter Anat Ronen was paralyzed creatively. Then a community garden commissioned her to paint three murals – flowers, hummingbirds, and human hands. Suddenly, her inspiration returned.
“I realized this is what I need to do,” said Ronen, 54. “I want to create beauty in the face of ugliness.”
Ugliness found Ronen anyway. Since it was widely known that she was Jewish and from Israel, other artists at her Houston, Texas studio complex and beyond harassed her in person and online, constantly, posting antisemitic cartoons. Vandals wrote on her mural in red paint phrases that included ‘Death to Zionism,’ ‘Free Palestine,’ and ‘F*** Anat.’
“My work is non-political,” Ronen said. “It’s not Jewish. It’s not Israeli. It’s just art. There’s no real reason why they’re doing it except racism, antisemitism, and being brainwashed with this rabid, psychotic urge to harm people of Jewish descent, in any means necessary.”
During an open studio event, masked picketers gathered outside her studio complex for seven hours – a scene reminiscent of a KKK rally – calling Ronen a Zionist sympathizer.
“Nobody did or said nothing, not a public condemnation, nor privately reaching; it was complete crickets, as if it never happened,” she said. “There’s literally no one there for us. That’s my lesson.”
The granddaughter of a Holocaust survivor, Ronen emigrated from Israel with her husband 20 years ago. “We basically wanted to start in a place that has no ties, where there are no strings attached and start anew,” she said. “We came here for a visit and fell in love with the land of opportunity.”
It was in the U.S. that she discovered her extraordinary ability with a paintbrush and parlayed that talent to become a commercial artist. But becoming a target has changed how she does that job. For safety reasons, she no longer advertises where people can come to watch her work. She makes sure the client understands that she comes with potential baggage and warns them that putting her signature on their work of art might invite trouble.
“But in spite of all this, I keep creating,” she said. “It became a mission. A goal. My life purpose. The more ugliness there is, the more beauty I create. I think that’s the main thing to give hope to people.”
‘Any Jewish elected official is an outsized target’
Ohio State Senator Casey Weinstein, who is Jewish, and his wife, Amanda, who is a City Councilwoman in Hudson, Ohio, are both public officials who uphold the First Amendment. Both have been harassed by Christian nationalists and neo-Nazis who claim the right to free speech allows them to target his family.
“I’m a pretty outspoken elected official,” said the 43-year-old Democratic Ohio state senator. “I use my platform, and I’m pretty vocal about my faith and the importance of Judaism to me, and that has absolutely made me a target.”
In August, several men occupied a busy street corner in Hudson, throwing Heil Hitler salutes, flying a Nazi flag, displaying signs that accused Jews of raping children, and shouting out the Weinsteins’ names. Casey Weinstein was out of town but learned of the gathering almost immediately on social media.
“It seems like any Jewish elected official is an outsized target,” he said. “It can be scary to be in elected office. We saw it in Minnesota with the legislators shot in their homes. We see the vitriol and anger and the space that’s unfortunately been created … to take threats into the real world.”
The Weinstein family has begun taking security precautions, such as installing cameras and locks on their doors. The Ohio State Highway Patrol also pays regular visits to their home, part of a surge in such support ordered by the state's Republican Governor in response to the increased threat environment.
When the Neo-Nazis returned to Hudson to stage a second demonstration, Casey worked with a multi-faith group of clergy to set up a counter-protest on the town green. The turnout was huge and the voices in support of inclusion and positivity had the last word. "There is power in showing up and standing strong against this bigotry", said Weinstein. "We wanted everyone to see that love wins over hate. Every time."
Globalize the Intifada: ‘A call for the mass genocide of the Jewish people’
Survey finding: Nearly 70% of American Jews said if they saw or heard the phrase, “Globalize the Intifada,” they would feel very unsafe or somewhat unsafe as a Jewish person in the U.S.
Noah Lederman has never shied away from an argument. He relishes robust debates with people who share opposing ideas and ideologies because, he presumes, they have at least one thing in common: we all want to be on the right side of history.
But when he hears protesters and peers chanting “Globalize the Intifada,” – a term referring to periods of intense Palestinian protest and violent terrorism against Israel – he realizes they either don’t know their history, or they really believe that violence against Jews is justified.
“What I’m hearing is a call for the mass genocide of the Jewish people,” said Lederman, 21, a junior at Columbia University from Orange County, California. “After hearing accounts of the intifada, then hearing people talk about globalizing it is so terrifying.”
For a while, Lederman took for granted that the protesters were ambitious students at an Ivy League institution who wanted to keep their record clean. After all, one day they would need jobs. Even after protesters in February 2024 eyed him wearing a T-shirt with an image of the Israeli flag and shoved him against a wall on New York’s Upper West Side, he figured they were just outside agitators.
But two months later, he watched as fellow students smashed windows and barricaded themselves inside an academic building on campus. He realized how instantly words could incite violence and began to rethink his false sense of security.
“The siege of Hamilton Hall was a direct result of these chants being allowed to continue because it emboldened these students that they could act with impunity, which by the way they did,” he said. “That’s the moment I can pinpoint genuinely fearing for my safety.”
As the chant continued to be a constant refrain of pro-Palestinian activists, that fear pervaded every journey Lederman took across campus until it finally became white noise.
“The scariest thing to me is how normalized it became to the point when I heard it my sophomore year, I didn’t bat an eye,” Lederman said. “When we normalize, we stop paying attention. This is not normal.”
