I am a proud Jew. I wear a chai necklace outside my shirt and a bracelet with a prominent Magen David on my wrist. A sticker of an Israeli flag decorates my backpack, and my luggage tags display my business card with the Jewish Community Center logo.
So it was with sadness and a bit of shame that I found myself covering up my Jewishness at certain points this summer as I traveled through Europe. I didn’t do so out of lack of pride, but out of concern for my safety and the safety of those traveling with me.
We spent three weeks traveling through Denmark, Norway, Sweden, Scotland and England. It was an awesome trip full of warm and friendly locals and rich, interesting history. Each of the places we visited hosts a proud Jewish community, though many members are feeling under siege right now.
In Copenhagen, Palestinian flags hung in many windows, and anti-Israel graffiti was all over the public parks. In Stockholm, the Israeli Embassy bowed out of this year’s Pride parade due to safety concerns. In Edinburgh, “Free Palestine” was scrawled on many of the Fringe Festival posters, especially when the artist had a Jewish-sounding name.
In Oslo, an anti-Israel rally took place right outside the Nobel Peace Center museum, where anti-Israel books filled the bookstore. Indeed, they prominently displayed a manuscript written by Gandhi in 1938 in which he advised Jews to only engage in unarmed resistance, confidently predicting that through “… non-violent action, the winter of their despair can in the twinkling of an eye be turned into the summer of hope.”
After the scale of Nazi brutality became fully known to the world, Gandhi’s views were heavily criticized for their naivete and insensitivity. But at the Nobel museum, his catastrophic misreading of reality is being promoted today.

Still, we showed up. We took a tour of the Danish Jewish Museum in Denmark, which was designed by Daniel Libeskind, who also designed the Contemporary Jewish Museum in San Francisco. We went to services at the Great Synagogue of Stockholm during Pride Shabbat, so the shul was filled with rainbow flags. In Scotland, we researched the Jewish tartan, a relatively recent creation.
In the end, I came away worried about Jews in these countries, and asking big questions about the viability of Jewish life in Europe. While I don’t know what the future holds, I did come to one important conclusion: The haggadah is right in declaring that “in every generation, they will rise up to destroy us.”
That may sound pessimistic, but in fact it is clarifying and empowering. Now I know that rather than spending my time pushing back against anti-Israel bias in national newspapers, pointing out the local school district’s latent antisemitism or fighting social media influencers’ ugly Jew hatred, I can shift gears. I can go from circling the wagons to expanding the circle. I can finally stop trying to convince our adversaries that they’re wrong, and work instead on creating more supporters.
Many activists are spending their time pushing back against Jew hatred, and we must empower them. I applaud them. I support them. I want to see them succeed. Those defending Israel and the Jews in traditional media, social media, city council meetings, school classrooms, boardrooms, the streets and everywhere else are warriors fighting a valiant, uphill battle.
However, this fight is neverending. Therefore, I believe our organizations must play a different role at this moment. Rather than fighting the haters, we must strengthen our own people and our allies who have committed to stand with us. And we must continue investing time instilling Jewish pride in the community, especially among the young generation.
There will always be Jew haters — in Europe, America and around the world. The key to securing our vibrant future is ensuring that there are always proud Jews, and Jewish allies, to fill the synagogues, to design the museums, to earn the Nobel prizes and to stand up and continue to make the world a better place.