Instagram, TikTok, Facebook, and college campuses. These are the battlefields where young American Jews continue to encounter antisemitism at an alarming rate. 

According to the latest annual State of Antisemitism in America Report released by American Jewish Committee (AJC) on February 12, 2025, online and on social media continue to be the place where American Jews encounter the worsening trend of antisemitism from a variety of sources including white supremacists on the far right and anti-Israel extremists on the far left.

Roughly seven in 10 (69%) Jewish adults report experiencing 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. This increases to eight in 10 (83%) among young Jewish adults.

Of the U.S. adults who witnessed antisemitism in the past 12 months, the majority (70%) say they saw it online or on social media.

“I work in social media. I see it every day, all day long,” one young Jewish professional said. 

Roughly three-quarters (77%) of American Jews said they feel less safe as a Jewish person in the U.S. because of the October 7 attacks, with nine in 10 saying that antisemitism in the U.S. has increased since that fateful day.

While the far-right and white supremacist hate remains a very serious threat in the United States, more American Jews say the extreme political left is a very serious antisemitic threat compared to 2021. 

“The vitriol coming from the progressive left, which I once identified as my community, has been truly shocking,” said one respondent, a Jewish woman from the South. “At this point, there isn’t really a space in which it feels safe to say the words ‘I’m Jewish.’”

Here are four stories that illustrate this shift as well as some of this year’s troubling findings.

‘I felt safer in Gaza than I do on that campus’

  • Roughly half (48%) of U.S. Jewish college students say that they have felt uncomfortable or unsafe at a campus event because they are Jewish; avoided wearing, carrying or displaying things that could identify them as Jewish; or avoided expressing views on Israel on campus or with classmates because of fears of antisemitism..
  • Half (50%) of American Jewish college students say they noticed anti-Israel protests or demonstrations, and about four in 10 (42%) noticed pro-Palestinian encampments. For those who had noticed demonstrations, roughly half (51%) said those demonstrations made them feel very (25%) or somewhat (26%) unsafe.

When Max Long graduated high school in Boston in 2015, he made Aliyah (emigrated to Israel) and joined the Israeli Defense Forces – granting him a front-row seat to the existential threats facing the Jewish state.

He anticipated dangers as a soldier. He did not expect to face danger as an American Jewish college student.  

On Rosh Hashanah in 2024, Long prepared a plate of apples and honey and stood on the edge of campus with a sign inviting people to hear his perspective as an IDF soldier – a routine he continued every Wednesday for a month.

“I had seen there’s a whole lack of representation on campus of our narrative,” said Long, 27, a part-time student at DePaul University in Chicago who had walked by encampments daily and decided to make himself available to answer questions. “What really enraged me to go out there was seeing a rally for the martyrs with pictures of Hamas terrorists on October 7.”

But on Nov. 6, 2024, he said two masked men approached him on the edge of his Chicago college campus, where he had been inviting passers-by to ask him questions. One approached him from the front, shook his hand and asked questions for a couple minutes. The other, he said, approached from behind and knocked him unconscious.

Between 2015 and 2018, he and his fellow IDF soldiers had worked to uncover cross-border terror tunnels between Israel and Gaza. When his active duty was complete, he launched Growing Wings Foundation, a nonprofit to link lone soldiers like himself to the community support they would need. 

He made plans to return to the U.S. to attend college in 2023, but after October 7, he was immediately called up from the reserves and sent back to Gaza where he helped recover hostages’ bodies from the tunnels.

After that tour of duty, he picked up where he left off and enrolled in classes for the spring of 2024. 

“I had seen so much to not go out and share that reality,” he said. “For me to live in the U.S. I cannot live in silence and in secret, especially on my own college campus.”

For three hours, Long stood just outside the campus entrance answering questions, sharing his story, and fielding a fair share of harassment and hateful rhetoric.  

“That’s how I realized how deep-rooted this antisemitism is,” he said.

The day after he was attacked in November and the suspects escaped, students staged a sit-in inside the school library holding Wanted flyers featuring Long’s face, not the assailants.

He has not returned to campus for class since. He attends class remotely. 

“Knowing I have a team around me that’s got my back, I felt safer in Gaza than I do on that campus,” Long said. “Now that my face is out there, it’s worrying. Who will be the lunatic who wants to be a hero by taking me out?”

‘The sea of people who have so much anger and hatred in their words and actions does take your breath away.’

  • 81% of American Jews said that caring about Israel is very (51%) or somewhat (30%) important to what being Jewish means to them.
  • 85% of American Jews and the U.S. general public believe that the statement “Israel has no right to exist” is antisemitic. 

Proudly Jewish and proudly Texan, Dallas City Council Member Cara Mendelsohn wears two lone star pins on her lapel: the Lone Star flag of Texas and the Magen David flag of Israel. It’s no secret to her constituents and fellow council members that she supports Israel’s right to defend itself after the October 7 Hamas terror attacks.

At council meetings, Mendelsohn tried to focus on filling potholes and hiring more police while anti-Israel protesters screamed “Free Palestine,” wearing her face on T-shirts embellished with antisemitic imagery of a pig nose and horns. She responded by donning a T-shirt to support the IDF.

“My council colleagues didn’t know what the IDF T-shirt was, but people in the audience certainly did,” she said. “The sea of people who have so much anger and hatred in their words and actions does take your breath away.”

But the protesters who came to her home in far north Dallas unnerved her the most, picketing on the street in front of her house. Early one morning, a neighbor taking her child to soccer practice called to tell her that the back fence had been spray painted with the words “Baby Killer” and the red triangle symbol used by Hamas. A pile of bricks and decapitated dolls had been doused in red paint as well.

“That moment for me was very clarifying about all the warnings my grandparents who escaped from Poland would say,” she said. “In their very broken English: ‘Kindele, this could happen to you too.’ I was 100% certain this was not true. They didn’t understand America. They had just brought over their fear. Their families were just wiped out. They weren’t understanding modern life. In that one moment, I realized no, they were right. I was naïve. I was not the one understanding modern life and here it is on my fence.”

But for every despicable act of vandalism or expletive-laced tirade she hears, there have been acts of kindness from neighbors, businesses, and churches. The vendor who fixed her fence, for example, did so for free “as his way of righting what’s wrong in this world.”  

There was also a gesture from the governor. Upon hearing about the harassment facing her, Mendelsohn received an invitation from Texas Gov. Greg Abbott. She’s now one of nine commissioners on the Texas Holocaust, Genocide, and Antisemitism Advisory Commission tasked with combating antisemitism.

‘I work in social media. I see it every day, all day long.’

  • Roughly seven in 10 (69%) Jewish adults report experiencing 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. This increases to eight in 10 (83%) among young Jewish adults.
  • Of the U.S. adults who witnessed antisemitism in the past 12 months, the majority (70%) say they saw it online or on social media.
  • For American Jews who have seen or heard antisemitism online in the past year, one in five (20%) say the online incident(s) made them feel physically threatened.
  • 16% of American Jews who are employed full-time or part-time and are not self-employed, have avoided wearing, carrying, or displaying something that would identify them as Jewish in their workplace or around colleagues because of fears of antisemitism.

As a child, Mara remembers her mother weeping over a friend’s murder during a shooting at the Seattle Jewish Federation. Then, in her early 20s, she evacuated children from the Jewish Community Center where she worked after the building received a bomb threat.

Now part of the children’s book publishing world in Manhattan, Mara sees hatred directed toward Jews on a regular basis.

“Children’s book publishing, the publishing community at-large, has seen a dramatic rise in antisemitism in the past year and a half, which has been really disheartening to see,” said the 31-year-old digital marketing specialist. “I work in social media. I see it every day, all day long coming from authors.”

But in addition to authors, co-workers have posted Hamas flags and other troubling comments and images on their social media accounts. Though her social media is private and only visible to followers, co-workers unfollowed her when she volunteered in Israel last fall.

“I’ve always considered myself a very liberal person. But for whatever reason – I’m still confused – the very progressive people seem to lean very pro-terrorism. I believe Palestinians should be able to thrive and succeed without the shadow of Hamas.”

As the one year anniversary of the October 7, 2023, terror attacks approached, colleagues advised her to work from home that day in case violence disrupted her commute or the office environment became hostile, especially given the hostility that has erupted on college campuses.

“I think the college students today are so brave,” she said.

But none of it is new, she added. On her own campus a decade ago, she watched as her friends protested Ben & Jerry’s because the company sold ice cream in the West Bank.

“It didn’t make sense to me,” she said. “There were protests on campus, things were bizarre. I do remember my dad calling and asking what they were doing to protect Jews on campus. The school did nothing about it.”

Now as a young professional, she does what she can to protect herself and her mental well-being.

“Someone suggested I mute the authors who post disturbing things,” she said. “It’s made my day-to-day life a lot more palatable."

‘If we start running away now, that’s what they want. They win.’

  • About four in ten (43%) American Jewish college students say they have avoided expressing views on Israel on campus or with classmates because of fears of antisemitism.
  • 35% of American Jewish college students report experiencing antisemitism at least once during their time on campus.

Excited about a gap year in Israel before starting college at Columbia University, a 19-year-old from New York had her bags packed for a late night flight to Ben Gurion Airport on October 7, 2023. After Hamas terrorists massacred more than 1,200 people in Israel and kidnapped 250 others earlier that day, her flight was canceled.

When her gap year finally began in January 2024, Columbia’s campus was a hotbed of anti-Israel protests. News reports showed activists setting up encampments and blocking students from attending class. She applied to other schools and debated transferring but ultimately decided not to be scared away. 

“I wanted to fight the fight,” said the Columbia freshman. “I wanted to stand up for what is good. If we start running away now, that’s what they want. They win.”

Yet, since landing on Columbia’s campus in the fall of 2024, she has faced insensitive comments from professors, death threats from fellow students, and uneasy moments in crowds.

When an economics professor invited her to a lunch-and-learn, she arrived to discover he also had invited two pro-Palestinian activists, then opened a conversation about why it should be acceptable to wear a Nazi swastika on campus. She got up and left.

At the conclusion of a vigil on the anniversary of the October 7 terrorist attacks, she found herself surrounded by counter protesters and panicked. And when she posted a video on Instagram from a rally calling for a prohibition on masks worn for the purpose of concealing one’s identity in a public place – a movement called Unmask the Hate – she received a direct message from an engineering student telling her Zionists don’t deserve to live.

“It’s not a thing to be Jewish and not to be a Zionist,” said the 19-year-old, whose grandparents were German and survived concentration camps during the Holocaust. “Having to explain that to people is part of the reason I need to do this. I would be lying if I said ‘maybe, it’s not worth it. It’s something I feel so strongly about.”