One year ago, I wrote in the New York Post that I would no longer financially support Jewish organizations that had failed to meet the defining challenge facing American Jewry: protecting Jewish Americans in an era of rising antisemitism.
I wish I could say that the past year changed my mind. It has not.
If anything, the crisis has become more visible, more dangerous and more difficult to ignore.
For generations, American Jews viewed the United States as the great exception in Jewish history. America was the country where Jews could thrive openly, build institutions, participate fully in public life and pass their traditions to future generations without fear. That confidence became a foundational assumption of modern American Jewish life.
Today, that assumption is being tested on a daily basis.
Jewish students arrive on college campuses wondering whether administrators will protect them or appease those who target them. Parents think twice before allowing their children to wear visible Jewish symbols in public. Synagogues require armed security. Jewish schools operate under threat assessments that would have seemed unimaginable only a decade ago.
None of this should be considered normal. Yet far too often, it is treated as inevitable.
The Anti-Defamation League’s most recent audit recorded one of the highest levels of antisemitic incidents ever documented in the United States. Federal data continues to show that anti-Jewish hate crimes account for a vastly disproportionate share of religion-based hate crimes, despite Jews representing only a small percentage of the population. Universities across the country remain under investigation for allegations of antisemitic harassment and discrimination.
The statistics are alarming, but they are not the central issue.
The deeper question is whether the institutions entrusted with protecting Jewish interests are adapting to the reality before them.
Meeting this moment requires more than rhetoric.
For decades, much of organized Jewish life emphasized access, relationships, coalition-building, education and advocacy. Those tools remain important and have produced meaningful victories. But we are no longer living in the environment those institutions were designed to navigate.
The challenge facing Jewish Americans today is not simply one of education or awareness. It is a challenge of security, accountability, deterrence and political will.
Reports documenting antisemitism are valuable. Statements condemning antisemitism are necessary. Meetings with elected officials serve a purpose. But none of those activities are substitutes for results.
The measure of success should not be how many reports are published, conferences are hosted, or press releases are distributed. The measure of success should be whether Jewish Americans are safer.
Every Jewish organization should be able to answer a few basic questions: Are Jewish students protected when they are targeted on campus? Are universities facing consequences when they fail to enforce their own rules? Are synagogues receiving the resources they need to remain secure? Are public officials held accountable when they excuse or minimize antisemitism? Are Jewish families more confident today than they were a year ago?
Too often, Jewish communal leadership confuses activity with effectiveness.
Visibility is not impact. Access is not influence. Relationships are not protection. Fundraising is not success.
At a moment when Jewish Americans face the most sustained surge in antisemitism in generations, the community deserves a far more rigorous standard for evaluating the organizations that claim to represent its interests.
Donors should be asking some hard questions. How much funding goes toward security, legal action, campus protection and rapid-response capabilities? How many Jewish students, schools, synagogues and families received direct assistance? What enforcement actions were pursued? What measurable outcomes were achieved? Most importantly, are Jews safer because the organization exists?
These questions are not hostile. They are responsible. And the conversation must also extend beyond organizations and into politics.
For too long, many Jewish voters have approached politics through the lens of historical loyalties or partisan habits. Those considerations may matter, but they cannot outweigh a government’s most basic responsibility: protecting its citizens.
We no longer live in an environment legacy Jewish institutions were designed to navigate.
Jewish Americans should not give automatic support to any political party, politician or movement. Support should be earned. If elected officials cannot clearly condemn antisemitism, enforce the law equally, and defend the rights and safety of Jewish citizens, then they should not expect Jewish votes, Jewish donations or Jewish trust.
No party is entitled to Jewish support. No politician is entitled to Jewish loyalty. Trust must be earned through action.
Ultimately, this moment requires something larger than criticism—a strategic rethinking of how the American Jewish community approaches its own security.
Meeting this moment requires more than rhetoric. It requires stronger security infrastructure, rapid-response legal networks and greater coordination among synagogues, schools and Jewish institutions. It requires meaningful accountability mechanisms for universities, elected officials, and civic leaders who fail to protect Jewish citizens. And it requires donors willing to prioritize measurable outcomes over prestige.
Most importantly, it requires a communal culture that views Jewish protection not as a secondary concern, but as a primary responsibility.
History offers many lessons to the Jewish people. Perhaps the most enduring is that security cannot be outsourced indefinitely to others. Partnerships matter. Allies matter. Government matters.
But ultimately, every generation is responsible for ensuring its own future.
America remains the greatest country in the world and the strongest home the Jewish people have ever known outside the State of Israel. That reality is worth defending. But preserving it requires honesty.
One year ago, I asked where our leaders were.
Today, the more important question is whether our institutions are producing the results this moment demands. Because Jewish Americans should not have to settle for statements when what they need is security.
And they should not have to wait any longer to feel safe again. Enough is really enough.
