Donald Trump has seized the megaphone of the fight against antisemitism and turned up the volume as high as possible. The question is why. The answer lies not necessarily in a genuine concern for the safety of Jews, but rather in the pursuit of a political agenda aimed at silencing critics and shutting the door on immigrants. Trump’s noise isn’t about solving the problem of antisemitism — it’s about weaponizing it to advance his authoritarian and racially charged policies.
Antisemitism certainly exists in the United States — statistics and evidence confirm this. Annual reports show that hate crimes against Jews remain a persistent reality. According to the FBI’s 2023 report, out of 11,862 hate crimes, approximately 1,020 incidents (around 9%) targeted Jewish individuals — a noticeable increase from previous years. Likewise, the Anti-Defamation League’s 2024 report recorded 8,873 antisemitic incidents, including physical assaults and verbal harassment, reflecting a 140% increase compared to 2022. But when politics enters the equation, these harsh truths can become tools in larger strategic games. Trump has turned this issue into a political battlefield where antisemitism serves as a convenient pretext.
With promises to deport protesters opposing Israeli policies or threats to cut funding for universities he claims have failed to protect Jewish students, Trump paints himself as a decisive savior. Yet behind this mask lies an agenda far removed from the actual well-being of Jews. A closer look at Trump’s appointments raises questions: why does an administration that claims to defend Jews surround itself with individuals who have made inflammatory remarks against Jewish communities? This contradiction is too glaring to ignore. On one hand, Trump loudly proclaims his support for Jewish safety, yet on the other, he pushes policies that appear more focused on stifling dissent and instilling fear than eradicating hate.
When Trump threatens to expel protesting students, it’s not just antisemitism being targeted — it’s a signal to anyone who dares to speak out against his red lines. Now consider his immigration policies: antisemitism becomes a pretext for building higher walls around America. By exaggerating threats against Jews, Trump steers public discourse toward a place where every foreigner or immigrant is viewed as a potential danger. This is where the dots connect: for Trump, antisemitism is not a cause but a trump card — used not to protect Jews but to justify crackdowns that much of the American Jewish community — which is largely liberal and pro-immigrant — fundamentally opposes. Through this political theater, he not only fails to protect Jews from real threats but also turns them into hostages of his broader agenda.
There is another goal behind promoting an exaggerated narrative of antisemitism: expanding the reach of state power. When universities face funding threats or protesters are silenced through heavy-handed accusations, it creates fertile ground for authoritarianism to flourish. In this context, fighting antisemitism shifts from a social mission to a mechanism of control and dominance. Two clear outcomes result: first, political dissenters come under pressure, and public space for disagreement shrinks; second, Trump reinforces his image among supporters as a tough, action-oriented leader standing firm against adversity. But in reality, this loud spectacle serves less to resolve actual issues and more to bolster Trump’s political strategy. Meanwhile, the Jewish community is pushed to the margins, receiving little of real substance from this approach. The goal, ultimately, is to use antisemitism as leverage — a tool to suppress dissent and advance restrictive policies.
This tactic does not ease tensions — it politicizes a deeply sensitive issue, increasing division and driving society further into a state of fear and surveillance. Donald Trump is a master at turning every issue into a grand performance, and antisemitism is no exception. He waves the threat like a monstrous specter before the public but aims his sword at those who often have nothing to do with the core of the problem. This approach doesn’t resolve the issue — it makes it worse. When antisemitism becomes a prop in a political spectacle, real hatred — the kind written on walls, shouted in streets, or nurtured in diseased minds — is obscured by the noise. This may be the greatest betrayal of those truly at risk, as energy and resources are diverted from confronting hate toward political games and fruitless exaggerations.
And when we examine Trump’s controversial appointments, the situation becomes even more complex. For instance, in the case of Columbia University, some of his key appointees or his remarks about student protests have stirred public outcry. Rather than focusing on the true roots of antisemitism, Trump and some of his allies have often pointed fingers at groups primarily engaged in criticizing foreign policy or defending human rights. These choices and directions, instead of calming tensions, have at times inflamed debates and left some feeling unjustly targeted. Consider appointments like Mike Huckabee to sensitive Middle East roles — his one-sided, hardline views on Palestinian issues have, rather than easing conflict, fueled accusations of bias and, indirectly, even fed into antisemitic sentiment in certain circles. These figures, with their polarizing records, reveal that Trump’s choices may be part of the problem — not the solution.
By raising the banner of fighting antisemitism, Donald Trump isn’t trying to solve a problem — he’s staging a production where he’s the central star. This spectacle is designed not to bring safety to Jews, but to silence opposition and make life harder for immigrants. Once the curtain falls, what remains is not a solution, but a scorched political landscape marked by division and control.
