Today, the rise of antisemitism is undeniable, but we must be careful not to lose perspective. We are so close to the phenomenon that we risk overlooking a profound transformation that is quietly underway: a large percentage of Jewish people have experienced a rebirth in their connection to Jewish peoplehood.
Our confusion is understandable. Comprehending today’s geopolitical and cultural landscape is akin to watching a rapidly flickering screen on which the images pass so rapidly that the human mind struggles to process them. The chaos is dizzying, and the desire to understand is profound, so people try to categorize things into neat, symmetrical boxes—even if they don’t fit perfectly.
To understand the future of Diaspora Jewry in the context of the current anti-Israel protest movement, we must look at two distinct groups of young people and try to understand where they may be 20 years in the future.
On one side, there is the average young “do-gooder”: the Gen Z or Alpha Generation person who has been swept into anti-Israel activism or activism in general by intense social media peer pressure. They champion trendy causes because it feels like the socially obligatory thing to do.
Fast-forward 20 years: beyond a hard core of committed ideologues, these activists will transition away from transient causes. They will shift their focus to the practical demands of career, family and other aspects of adulthood. The vast majority will not be defined by this moment. They will move on.
On the other side are the young Jews who are the targets of the anti-Israel activists. While these young Jews are far fewer in number, their experience during this crisis will not soon be forgotten. Social isolation, betrayal by secular institutions and the sudden necessity of standing tall in the face of hostility have left an indelible mark on their souls.
Two decades from now, this trauma will have transformed into a profound, lifelong commitment. This generation of Jews is turning inward out of a desire for authenticity, a response to pain and their feelings of pride. They are actively choosing to preserve the Jewish future.
These changes can be seen in synagogues and Jewish institutions across the United States.
Before Oct. 7, many Jewish leaders and clergy found it difficult to impart Jewish identity to the young generation. There was a reason for this: for decades, Diaspora institutional life relied heavily on the memory of the Holocaust as a foundational pillar of identity.
Indeed, data consistently showed that young American Jews ranked “remembering the Holocaust” as the single most essential component of being Jewish. However, memories fade and a secondary trauma cannot sustain a vibrant future. Thus, leaders found it increasingly hard to bridge the gap between a painful past and a meaningful Jewish future.
The primary anxieties keeping Diaspora leadership awake at night were continuity, assimilation and staggering demographic data. The global Jewish conversation was dominated by alarming statistics, such as Pew Research Center findings that the intermarriage rate among non-Orthodox Jews in the United States hovered around or exceeded 60-70%.
However, the experience of antisemitism that followed Oct. 7 shattered previous paradigms for most Jewish people, triggering an unprecedented “awakening” that is crystallizing into a long-term commitment to Jewish continuity, regardless of one’s previous level of affiliation.
The current suffering of the Diaspora is painful, but we are witnessing the emergence of a generation of Jews who will carry our story forward with newfound clarity. The future of Jewish identity has likely been preserved for decades to come.
