“Even if the war in Gaza ends, this hatred isn’t going anywhere”: Soviet-born émigré Jews speak out on the rise of antisemitism in the U.S.

Antisemitism in the U.S. has reached unprecedented levels. In 2024, the Anti-Defamation League (ADL) logged a record 9,354 incidents — an increase of 893% over the past ten years. Two of those incidents ended in tragedy. On June 1 in Boulder, Colorado, a 45-year-old Egyptian national who had overstayed his tourist visa threw a Molotov cocktail at participants in a march supporting Israeli hostages, shouting “Free Palestine.” More than ten people were injured, and one of them, 82-year-old Karen Diamond, later died. Days before, outside the Jewish Museum in Washington, DC, a U.S. citizen shot and killed two employees of the Israeli Embassy, Yaron Lischinsky and Sarah Milgrim, saying he did it “for Gaza, for Palestine.” The Insider spoke with American Jews who emigrated from the Soviet Union and shortly after 1991 about how their lives in America have changed since October 7 — and how Soviet anti-Zionist rhetoric has unexpectedly found fertile ground in America.

• 1.“Antisemitism dresses itself up as humanism”
• 2.“Hamas and its supporters have done a very successful PR job”
• 3.“The common denominator for both left and right has become hatred of us”
• 4.“Jewish employees feel the tension and don’t want to stick their necks out, afraid of trouble”
• 5.“I started telling students I’m a Jewish refugee from Ukraine”
• 6.“The ideological basis of American antisemitism is Soviet”

Доступно на русском языке

“Antisemitism dresses itself up as humanism”

Natalia Reznik, poet (Boulder, Colorado)

On June 1, when my husband and I joined the “Run for Their Lives” march downtown in support of the hostages, there were only 28 of us — mostly elderly people, some barely able to walk, and one mother pushing a boy in a stroller. When we stopped and the organizer began saying the usual words about being cautious and the danger we might be facing, I thought: “Could anyone really attack a small group of unarmed, completely defenseless people?”

The next second, a Molotov cocktail landed at my feet. I ended up in intensive care with severe burns and spent two weeks in the hospital. And as soon as I was able to walk, I went back to another rally — where once again we were confronted by a group of protesters with Palestinian flags, shouting insults and trying to drown out the names of the hostages.

Flowers at the memorial to the victims of the attack on the “Run For Their Lives” rally. Boulder, Colorado. June 2, 2025

CBS News

We weren’t chanting slogans. We walked silently, carrying portraits of the hostages, and stopped once to read their names aloud. That alone was enough to trigger a wave of hatred.

I grew up in a very antisemitic environment. At my school in the Smolny district of Leningrad, I was, if not the only Jew, then maybe one of two. It was written in the class register that I was Jewish, and everyone knew it. I wasn’t beaten, but, for example, there was one boy two years older who for a while wouldn’t let me leave the school. He threw stones at me and shouted: “My grandfather used to hang Jews during the war!”

Everyone heard it but did nothing, and he wasn’t embarrassed in the least — it was just the norm. The only one who stood up for me was a girlfriend who kept watch until he left so I could walk out. I remembered that, because I felt not only scared but also hurt that he was slandering his grandfather. I knew Jews were killed by the Germans, and that Soviet people had saved them. Only many years later did I realize that his grandfather probably really had hanged Jews somewhere in the occupied territories.

In the U.S. today, antisemitism disguises itself as abstract humanism. Apart from the attack I was caught up in, I don’t feel that this antisemitism is directed at me personally. It just spreads around somehow — people turn out for Palestine, endlessly fueled by photos of starving children. The press publishes articles that link local Jews to Israel’s policies. And suddenly, no liberal narrative exists anymore without condemning Israel.

There is no liberal narrative without condemning Israel

Even among Jews themselves — those who consider, or want to consider, themselves liberals — there are voices saying “it’s not all that simple.” American Jews are mostly progressive in their views. They call themselves progressive liberals, and their whole circle is like that. And now Jews themselves are distancing from Israel because they can’t withstand this mass pressure. I see long-standing friendships and relationships falling apart because people clash bitterly over the issue of Israel.

This mainstream is now “splattered” everywhere. Wonderful people say they hate only Israel and have nothing against Jews. I’ve run into this several times myself. But if you tell such a person that you support Israel, their hatred instantly extends to you as well.

In the USSR, official propaganda was also anti-Israel, and society translated it into everyday antisemitism. I think this is a timeless process: some evil, whatever is most relevant at the moment, is chosen — and its face is made to be the Jews. In Russia, a terrible scourge was alcoholism, and the myth was invented that Jews were getting the Russian people drunk.

People are afraid. A friend recently told me that on a flight she didn’t order kosher food, though she usually does. It was a long flight, and who knows what someone might say to her, or write, or do? My neighbor, who also joins these marches in support of the hostages, says she’s afraid just walking from the parking lot. In a sense, I was never really Jewish — only in the Soviet Union, on my passport. In America I became Russian. I don’t go to synagogue, and none of my friends do. And if it weren’t for what’s happening now, I would have remained Russian. But as long as there is this hatred of Israel and of Jews, I will be Jewish.

“Hamas and its supporters have done a very successful PR job”

Mikhail Novakhov, member of the New York State Assembly

At my school in Moscow’s Strogino district, an older student terrorized me after somehow figuring out — or maybe it was written all over my face — that I was Jewish. He threatened me: “I’ll hang you by your balls in Israel!” And I kept wondering: okay, suppose I end up in Israel, but how are you going to get there?

In the end, I called my uncle — he was a dentist and had connections — and he told me that the next day he’d send someone to the school. The following day, a huge guy showed up. We walked up to that older student, and the guy said: “See Misha? If anyone so much as says a word to him or touches him with a finger, you’ll be dealing with me. So I suggest you protect him.” And that’s exactly what happened — the older student started protecting me.

I moved to America in 2000, and since then I hadn’t really thought much about being Jewish — until October 7. When that happened, and the media very quickly shifted from sympathy for Israel to sympathy for the Palestinians, I just couldn’t understand how. People should have been out in the streets supporting the hostages, condemning Hamas for the massacre, but instead they were condemning Israel. It’s so unfair! And for me it very naturally became clear that we have to fight for ourselves and for our people.

Since I’m a state assemblyman, different people who have suffered from antisemitism started reaching out to me. For example, I got a letter from a girl named Rebecca at a school in the heart of a Jewish neighborhood, where she was president of the Jewish club. After October 7, she and other Jewish students began to be terrorized.

Pro-Palestinian students would burst into Jewish club meetings, shouting things like, “Too bad Hitler didn’t finish the job!” There was no physical violence, but constant insults and humiliation. I went to the school and met with the principal. He turned out to be a nice guy, apparently not an antisemite. His problem, like that of many school administrators, was that he simply didn’t know what was happening — he had too much else on his plate.

Pro-Palestinian march, New York

I told him about the older student in Strogino, explained that for me this was a personal story, and that I hoped to resolve the conflict in a civilized way — not the way my uncle once did. I made it clear I wouldn’t let it go, that I’d write, call, push for action — even demand the principal’s dismissal if the school administration failed to respond. And judging by the fact that Rebecca hasn’t written to me since, it seems to have worked.

Later I had a similar conversation with the president of Baruch College, who had tried to ban students from celebrating the Jewish New Year, Rosh Hashanah, suggesting instead they hold a “fall festival.” When I made it clear I wasn’t going to let the matter slide, the president changed his position as well.

None of these administrators wanted unnecessary attention from lawmakers — their main concern is the well-being of their institutions. That means you have to meet with them, explain, and push the issue. I think Trump’s policy of punishment with “the dollar” is also very effective. Just look at the example of Columbia University.

Unfortunately, anti-Israel rhetoric has now become a trend among young people. It reminds me a bit of the student protests against the Vietnam War in the 1960s. Credit where it’s due: Hamas and its supporters have carried out a very serious and very successful PR campaign. The problem is also that America is a country of money. Whoever pays calls the tune, and America is flooded with Qatari money — into schools, into universities. That’s something we need to fight.

Anti-Israel rhetoric has now become a trend among young people

It seems time will have to pass before the current trend shifts. The socialists need to disgrace themselves so that those now under their influence become disillusioned. From that perspective, it might even be for the best if [Zohran] Mamdani wins the election in New York. Let the city hit rock bottom — then there will be a chance for recovery.

“The common denominator for both left and right has become hatred of us”

Daniil Zilberman, software engineer at a major IT company, San Francisco

I left St. Petersburg for America in 1996. Antisemitism back home was not the first, but the second major reason I emigrated. When I applied to the Polytechnic Institute in 1987, they flunked me on the entrance exams — I got a C in physics, even though at our Physics and Math School No. 30 we were trained well enough to ace any exam. Later, at the tail end of Soviet rule, I ended up in the army, where I got the full measure of it.

This current surge of antisemitism in America hasn’t affected me personally so far, though since October 7, 2023, I’ve been attending every pro-Israel rally in our city. But my older son studies at George Washington University, and you probably know what’s been happening there. Mark is a fairly typical Russian-speaking Jewish kid from an immigrant family. He went to a private Jewish school, and you can tell right away that he’s Jewish — he wears a Magen David around his neck.

During pro-Palestinian protests, the statue of George Washington outside the university campus building was draped in a Palestinian flag and a keffiyeh.

AP Photo

After October 7, things at his university went completely off the rails. First, pro-Palestinian slogans were projected onto the library walls, then the Students for Justice in Palestine movement occupied a square on campus. Mark tried to avoid them, but one day someone pointed at his Star of David and told him he was supporting the genocide of Palestinians in Gaza and should be ashamed.

Of course, I teach him to avoid conflicts that could escalate into physical violence, but I don’t advise him to take off the chain, and I certainly don’t want him to feel ashamed of being Jewish. I tell him that if there’s an opportunity to speak up in a civilized setting, he should do it.

I don’t want my son to feel ashamed of being Jewish

What frightens me is that America’s ultra-left anti-Zionists are paradoxically joining forces with “traditional” antisemites on the far right, with neo-Nazis. Unexpectedly, their common denominator has turned out to be hatred of us. Being antisemitic is becoming practically acceptable — and that worries me. But I still try to stay optimistic and hope that antisemitism will pass, and America will endure.

“Jewish employees feel the tension and don’t want to stick their necks out, afraid of trouble”

Inna V., IT specialist, New Jersey

I left Krasnoyarsk with my parents when I was 15. I was lucky with my teacher, who entered all the children in the class register as Russian, even though we had Uzbeks, Germans, and Ukrainians. So at school I almost never encountered antisemitism. But at home it was different. We had a mixed family, and after my father called my mother a “kike face,” I didn’t speak to him for many years. That’s when I decided I would only marry someone of my own nationality.

We came to America to visit my grandmother and stayed after the 1991 coup — she wouldn’t let us go back. I should say that I encountered antisemitism in America even before October 7, 2023. For example, I never finished college because of it. It was a large state school, Rutgers in New Jersey, and we had a sociology course taught by the county prosecutor, a Muslim.

On October 7, I asked one of the top managers if we wanted to do something in response to what had happened, but the question was just brushed aside

When the war in Ukraine began, there were statements, and aid was collected. But this time — nothing. Apparently so as not to stir up controversy. There are many Jewish employees, and everyone feels the tension, keeping their heads down so as not to get into trouble.

My child goes to college in New York across from City Hall, where demonstrations with pro-Palestinian slogans are constantly taking place. It’s already becoming the norm, part of the landscape, a new reality. My daughter is afraid. There have never been so many anti-Israeli and antisemitic slogans before, at least not so openly. And even my mother, who lives in a senior home, was recently approached by big Middle Eastern-looking men campaigning for Palestine.

Yet no one admits to being antisemitic. They just present as facts things that aren’t facts at all. On television they say: “Israel bombed a hospital and killed journalists.” But they don’t explain who exactly those journalists were or why the hospital was bombed. And it’s like that on every channel.

At work, I once had a conversation with a Korean boy. He said: “Well, Jews are the strongest, they rule the whole world, don’t they?” I told him: “Where did you get that from? Look how few of us there are in the world! Learn to add up the facts!” But this propaganda is everywhere, and people believe it.

If socialism, which we left behind, takes hold in America, it will be, to put it mildly, not very good for the Jewish people.

“I started telling students I’m a Jewish refugee from Ukraine”

Marina Kolachikki, Italian language instructor at the university of Nevada, Las Vegas

I left Kyiv in 1990, at the age of 21, having already become well acquainted with everyday Soviet antisemitism. In childhood, for example, our neighbor, Uncle Grisha, would get drunk on payday, show up at our door with an axe, and shout: “Open up, kikes!” When he sobered up, he always apologized, but it was frightening all the same.

Our neighbor, Uncle Grisha, would get drunk on payday, come to our door with an axe, and shout: “Open up, kikes!”

My mother, with her Jewish appearance, name, and surname, worked in the record department of a department store, and one customer refused to take records from the hands of a Jew. She was transferred to the refrigerator department, where there was no direct contact with customers.

The same thing happened to my stepfather. It was part of life. We grew up with it. That was our reality. Later, I lived in many different places, and I was certain that the only country where you could calmly say you were Jewish was the United States. And now it’s no longer true. That feels like the collapse of something fundamental.

I catch myself telling my children not to wear a Magen David, or at least to hide it under a T-shirt. Fortunately, they don’t listen to me.

We live in a Jewish suburb of Las Vegas, and a few weeks after October 7, someone wrote “Death to Jews” on the fence across from our house. Just like that, right in front of our eyes. It would have been unimaginable even two years ago.

Being Jewish is frightening now. And yet I deliberately say that I am Jewish. After October 7, I began telling my students on the last day of the semester that I am a Jewish refugee from Ukraine. They all assumed I’m Italian: I have an Italian husband, an Italian last name. And they like me. I have a very good relationship with them.

There was an incident about a year ago. A professor from Israel came to give a physics lecture at the university. Pro-Palestinian students showed up and began making noise, disrupting the lecture. Under university rules, those who interfere with the learning process must be removed from the hall. But this was the first time university police came in and, instead of removing the disrupters, told the professor it would be better to end the lecture to avoid unrest.

I wrote a letter to the university administration, reminding them of the rules. They replied that everything was fine — that the professor was happy, he even managed to walk around campus and nobody touched him. And this is what we now boast about: that a professor from Israel was able to walk around the university campus unharmed!

My daughter is now applying to a university in Florida, the most Jewish one in America. Many Jewish students transferred here from elite schools like Columbia and Harvard because it’s at least safe, and any disruption of order is strictly punished.

We already noticed the difference at the airport: half the people there were wearing large Magen Davids on chains, not like in Las Vegas. Of course, what we have in Las Vegas is nothing compared to New York. The further left the state is, the worse it gets. Although now it’s starting on the right too.

I believe that in the near future, Jews will face very difficult times — both in Europe and in America. Even if the war in Gaza ends tomorrow and Israel disappears from the headlines, this hatred will not go away. I never thought I would live to see this.

“The ideological basis of American antisemitism is Soviet”

Isabella Tabarovski, researcher of Soviet anti-Zionism and contemporary antisemitism, U.S–Israel

About seven years ago, I saw a demonstration on the news featuring American students with slogans like “Zionism is racism” and “Israel is an apartheid state,” and something about them seemed familiar. I even called my father to tell him, and he laughed and said, “Well, we’ve already heard this in the Soviet Union.” That one phrase from him marked the beginning of everything for me.

I realized that we had indeed heard this before, and since the language matched so precisely, there had to be a connection to the source. These American students were reproducing Soviet rhetoric so exactly — they could not have invented it themselves.

The point is that after Israel’s victory in the Six-Day War in 1967, the USSR launched a massive anti-Zionist campaign and actively engaged with the global left. Soviet propaganda was the first to equate Palestinians with resistance and national liberation movements. At international conferences, Soviet speakers framed the Arab-Israeli conflict as “a struggle between imperialist forces on one side and a national liberation movement on the other.” Sound familiar?

“Zionism is the weapon of imperialism!” May Day demonstration, Moscow, USSR, 1972 Vladimir Sychyov

International leftist groups fully echoed this rhetoric about imperialism, capitalism, and so on, and at some point they introduced the idea that Zionism is the enemy of all that is good — that it is racism, apartheid, and colonialism. Among the left, these ideas had long existed, and after October 7, they became mainstream.

International leftist groups introduced the idea that Zionism is the enemy of all that is good

Twenty years ago, Natan Sharansky, after returning from the U.S., wrote a letter to then-Israeli Prime Minister Ariel Sharon, warning that Jewish students in America were intimidated and afraid to express support for Israel because their environment was hostile. And the ideological basis of this antisemitism is undoubtedly Soviet.

At the same time, the USSR also claimed, “We are only against Zionism, not against Jews.” But in practice, this led to persecution: Jews were denied admission to universities and were excluded from jobs. I tried to warn American Jews about this danger, but few listened — it was assumed that the threat of antisemitism came only from the right.

Since October 7, the situation has worsened significantly. Jews are being excluded from progressive circles, and students report being denied entry into liberal communities if they support Israel. Problems arise in academia, publishing, and other intellectual spheres. People can face ostracism in their social lives.

We have entered a period in which, within liberal-progressive circles in the U.S., freedom of speech for those who support Israel is severely restricted. If, for example, a Jewish student is unwilling to hide or cut off parts of their identity connected to Zionism and attachment to Israel, they can very well experience what it feels like to be a dissident.

Physical danger is also real: attacks on synagogues and even killings are occurring, prompting many Jews — who in America have traditionally adhered to liberal values and opposed the right to bear arms — to consider self-defense.

Unfortunately, this “froth” of antisemitic ideas and sentiments will not dissipate quickly, even after the conflict in Israel ends. There is an entire field of study examining how conspiracy theories affect democracies, and antisemitism is essentially a function of the conspiracy theory that Jews control the world. Right now, we are witnessing this in real time, across a vast sample of people and countries worldwide.