Antisemitism in the workplace may not typically stem from overt displays of anti-Jewish behavior, but regardless of the shape it takes, both survey data and anecdotal evidence show that many leaders in corporate America are failing at adequately addressing this problem. Jonathan A. Segal of Duane Morris offers executives a roadmap of how to respond to incidents of antisemitism in the workplace.
An employee meets with a senior executive of their company. During their discussion, the senior executive inquires generally about how the employee is doing. The employee responds by saying that he is upset by the “explosion of antisemitism.” The senior executive’s response leaves the employee unsettled.
Unfortunately, this is an increasingly common occurrence in corporate America. According to a 2024 report from the American Jewish Committee, 16% of American Jews have avoided wearing or displaying something in the workplace that would identify them as Jewish due to fears of antisemitism, while 9% have felt uncomfortable or unsafe in the workplace because of their Jewish identity.
I have never hidden the fact that I am Jewish when I give talks or otherwise. But I hear from a lot of Jewish folks that they are increasingly reluctant to share this aspect of their authentic selves with others in the professional world (and in their personal lives).
Yet an employee’s discomfort doesn’t always stem from overt or direct displays of antisemitism. In fact, it’s more likely than not that senior executives, managers and HR professionals engage with good intent. What, then, might they say that leaves Jewish employees feeling that their concerns have not been heard?
The answer is often some form of “whataboutism”: responding to a difficult question or concern by raising a different issue altogether.
Here are three common examples that executives should avoid in this context and how they might better respond moving forward.
‘I condemn antisemitism, but I also condemn the war in Gaza’
To be clear: criticism of the Israeli government is not, in and of itself, antisemitic. It would be inappropriate to accuse someone of being antisemitic based solely on their support for the people of Gaza or their criticism of the Israeli government.
Further, one can both condemn antisemitism and have concerns about the continuing war in Gaza, as I myself do. The problem is when the two concepts are coupled together.
No one acting in good faith can defend antisemitism. In contrast, people acting in good faith can and do disagree on the war in Gaza. By injecting the war in Gaza into a discussion of antisemitism, one complicates what should be a simple issue and makes it potentially contentious.
What’s more, the infusion of the war in Gaza into a conversation about antisemitism may be heard as suggesting that, but for the war, there would be no antisemitism. Of course, history teaches us otherwise. But, most troublesome, blaming antisemitism on the war in Gaza comes dangerously close to blaming Jews for antisemitism.
According to a report by the ADL earlier this year, 58% of antisemitic incidents are related to Israel or Zionism. Stated otherwise, Jews around the world — with no connection to the war in Gaza — are being harassed, attacked and even murdered as a result of anti-Israel hatred. In contemporary antisemitism, “Zionist” and “Jew” have become interchangeable.
Again, protesting the policy of the Israeli government is not antisemitic. But to paraphrase CNN anchor Van Jones: You protest a policy, not a people. Protesting a people is a pogrom.
I am not suggesting that those who deploy “whataboutism” in the context of condemning antisemitism necessarily intend to convey any of these messages. But that is precisely how they may be heard.
‘I condemn not only antisemitism but also Islamophobia’
All forms of hatred can and must be condemned. But when the issue is racism, sexism or homophobia, we don’t hear antisemitism mentioned in the condemnation, nor should we. However, when condemning antisemitism, we (myself included) sometimes reference Islamophobia in the condemnation. That can be problematic.
First, the coupling may suggest that antisemitism alone is not worthy of condemnation and moves the focus away from the issue at hand. The same would be true if we added antisemitism to the condemnation of Islamophobia where anti-Muslim hatred was the issue.
Second, and most worrisome to me: It implicitly (and wrongly) paints Jews and Muslims as adversaries, such that if we condemn the bias against one, we must condemn the bias against the other in order to be fair.
The solution is clear. When the issue is antisemitism, focus on antisemitism and not Islamophobia. When the issue is Islamophobia, focus on Islamophobia and not antisemitism.
‘Now you know how it feels’
It is harder for me to find a charitable explanation for “now you know how it feels.” Perhaps the person was simply trying to connect. But beware: that is not how the message will be received. The suggestion may be that you have lived a privileged life until now. This is not always a mere suggestion; I was explicitly told just that.
Perhaps the speaker is not engaging in the “oppression Olympics.” Perhaps the speaker is simply self-absorbed and changing the topic to “what about me.”
Again, this is not to suggest that other biases are not every bit as painful and wrongheaded as antisemitism. They are. The point is that, when someone tells you they are bleeding, you don’t discuss your own wounds.
There is a big difference between empathizing and hijacking. Don’t hijack the issue by making it about you.
What should you do?
Let’s return to the example introduced at the outset. How should the senior executive have responded?
A full-throated condemnation without any qualification: “It’s horrendous. It’s horrible.”
Condemning antisemitism is not hard. Your genuine concern should shine through if you leave the “whatabouts” out of it.