Amos N. Guiora on Antisemitism, Anti-Zionism, and the Politics of Criticism

 

Amos N. Guiora, J.D., Ph.D., is a legal scholar and former IDF Lieutenant Colonel whose work focuses on institutional complicity and the legal accountability of bystanders and enablers. Shaped by his Holocaust-survivor parents and counterterrorism background, Guiora pioneered legal frameworks addressing bystander culpability, authoring The Crime of Complicity, Armies of Enablers, and The Complicity of Silence. His advocacy inspired Utah’s 2021 bystander law. Through the Bystander Initiative at the University of Utah, he advocates for criminalizing enablers, arguing that religious, educational, or athletic institutions often prioritize protecting perpetrators over victims. 

Guiora speaks with Scott Douglas Jacobsen about the complex intersections of antisemitism, anti-Zionism, and legitimate criticism of Israel. Drawing on his personal history as the child of Holocaust survivors and his professional background in law and counterterrorism, Guiora distinguishes between anti-Israel sentiment and antisemitism, noting how political leaders like Netanyahu exploit the confusion for strategic gain. The discussion explores Holocaust denial, intra-Jewish tensions, Orthodox-secular divides, and international law, emphasizing the need for precise definitions and caution in labelling. Guiora stresses that criticism of Israel is not inherently antisemitic.

Scott Douglas Jacobsen: We are here with Amos Guiora, Director of the Bystander Initiative. We are going to discuss antisemitism today. This is one of the last interviews in that series for Conversations on Antisemitism, so thank you for participating in it.

Dr. Amos Guiora: I appreciate it. My pleasure.

Jacobsen: I have encountered several different approaches to this issue in the broader discussion. There are two main streams. One argues for a static definition, while the other supports a more fluid, ongoing conversation. When you think about antisemitism, what kind of language do you use to approach it, if at all?

Guiora: I think one needs to be cautious about instinctively throwing down the flag of antisemitism. However, as I told you when we spoke a couple of days ago, I view this through the lens of being an Israeli, not necessarily as an American Jew. From the perspective of an Israeli, it has been nearly two years since October 7, 2023.

As someone deeply involved in demonstrations, rallies, and efforts against the government, I am fervently—an understatement—opposed to the Netanyahu government. That does not make me anti-Israeli in any way. I firmly believe that criticism of this government, whether by Israelis or by non-Israelis, by Jews or non-Jews, is entirely legitimate.

I belong to the camp that says legitimate criticism of Israel, when based on knowledge and understanding, is not antisemitic. Full stop. I have friends who, with reasonable minds though differing views, believe that all criticism of Israel is inherently antisemitic. I do not subscribe to that position.

So, putting on my Israeli hat—well, I do not have much hair, but still—I see criticism of what is happening as necessary. The fact that hostages remain in captivity—the 49 hostages still being held—and the reality that we are engaged in a purposeless war in Gaza all compel me to be highly critical. As you know, I have spoken at rallies in Haifa and Jerusalem. I am also writing a book about Netanyahu’s enablers, naming them by name. None of this makes me antisemitic.

So, the definitional issue is this: do we say that any criticism of Israel is automatically antisemitic? I do not think so. Is there antisemitism in some of the criticism? Indeed, remarkably, it is not grounded in knowledge or understanding. However, as a lawyer, definitions are crucial. Words must be narrowly defined, specifically defined, and carefully applied.

So I am very cautious about labelling, “Oh, he is antisemitic, she is antisemitic.” Is there antisemitism? Of course there is. An attack on a synagogue is antisemitic. The attack in Chile, which I saw reported the other day, was antisemitic—attacks on synagogues, attacks on Jews. You are in Canada: the Jewish man who was attacked in front of his children in Montreal—that is antisemitism. I saw something similar in Paris.

However, there are also situations involving Israelis. I think it was in Barcelona: an Israeli family was sitting in a restaurant, speaking Hebrew. The owner approached them and asked, “Are you speaking Hebrew?” They said yes. He told them, “Leave now.” Is that antisemitic, or is that anti-Israel? I do not know.

Where does Zionism, or anti-Zionism, fit into this analysis? I define myself as a Zionist who believes in the state of Israel. Obviously, I served in the IDF, and I absolutely believe in the legitimacy of the state of Israel. I assume—though, as the first three letters of the word remind us, assumption can be risky—that anti-Zionism is the denial of Israel’s right to exist. I know that position is out there.

Notwithstanding the UN resolution many decades back, I take anti-Zionism to mean the denial of Israel’s legitimacy. I also know there are Jews who are anti-Zionist. My assumption—and I say this cautiously—is that this position denies Israel’s right to exist. For me, is that antisemitic? Or is that anti-Israel? It lies somewhere between those categories. I do not always know what that means. There is also a revisionist history that contributes to this.

However, the state of Israel exists, and it is not going anywhere. To deny its existence, for me, is far off the beaten path. I do not understand where that comes from. Much prejudice toward Jewish people seems to depend on a prior definition—what is a Jewish person?

Now, you pointed out something intriguing: the history of the Israeli Supreme Court, which dates back many decades—if I recall correctly, to the early 1970s or early 1980s. The question in that case was: What is a Jew? What was the impetus for the case? What was the deliberation process? Moreover, what was the outcome?

I admit I do not know enough about the case itself. However, I can tell you that, traditionally, there has never been much question about what defines a Jew. According to the Torah, a Jew is someone whose mother is Jewish. Unlike in Islam, where the father’s faith determines identity, in Judaism, it is the mother’s faith that is considered significant.

There has been a lengthy discussion of what it means to be a Jew. Years ago, it was in Haaretz, the Israeli newspaper. There was an article debating whether one primarily identifies as an Israeli or as a Jew. That is a fascinating question. If I have to choose between the two, I define myself as an Israeli.

I also think, in the context of historical antisemitism, that reasonable minds may disagree. However, there is a strong school of thought that says Christianity historically placed blame on Jews as the “Christ killers.” In 1965, Pope Paul VI issued Nostra Aetate, a declaration rejecting that charge and affirming that Jews collectively were not responsible for the death of Jesus—it was the Romans. However, for nearly 2,000 years, the accusation of Jews as Christ killers hung over us.

In the Middle Ages, antisemitism manifested in other forms: Jews were portrayed as bloodsuckers, accused of ritual murder, or seen as running the banks—stereotypes tied to families like the Rothschilds. The “Christ killer” accusation was perhaps the most important element of this long history of antisemitism.

Fast forward to Hitler: Was Hitler antisemitic? Of course—virulently antisemitic. There was no state of Israel at the time, so the Holocaust was entirely about Jews. The Holocaust is the seminal event in the history of antisemitism, unhinged as unhinged can be.

In Israel today, we have both Orthodox (including Hasidic) Jews and secular Jews. The conflict between secular and Orthodox Jews is very real. Many in the Orthodox community, by rabbinical order, refuse to serve in the IDF. For secular Israelis like me, and for those of us whose children serve in the IDF, this refusal is outrageous. There are no words for it.

To give an example: there is a cartoon showing soldiers marching in one direction to the draft while Orthodox Jews head the opposite way, travelling to Ukraine to pray instead of serving. This captures the sense of division.

So the question arises: Does my criticism of Orthodox Jews for refusing military service make me antisemitic? I do not believe so. However, among secular Israelis, there is genuine hatred toward the Orthodox for this reason. I can point to friends who say openly, “We hate the Orthodox.” Moreover, when they say hate, they mean hate.

On the other hand, just three weeks ago, extremist Orthodox groups declared “war on the state of Israel.” They even posted banners to that effect. They then held a violent demonstration two weeks ago. Frankly, I was sorry the police did not crack down harder.

So it is not very easy. 

Jacobsen: It is the Pope’s “relationship status.” It is not very easy. I think that sentiment applies here as well. Now, what about something I have not explored as much in conversation—the issue of intra-Jewish, or inter-subethnic, tensions: Ashkenazim versus Sephardim versus Mizrahim, and so on? Today, these often surface as jokes. People have told me such jokes, though the terminology can be strong. 

Guiora: Jokes, of course, are often rooted in reality. If someone harbours hatred within the broader Jewish community, does that count as antisemitism? First, I do not think antisemites in the broader world distinguish between Sephardic Jews, Russian Jews, Ethiopian Jews, or Ashkenazi Jews. To them, a Jew is a Jew. That is a different question from what you are asking.

Historically, when the state of Israel was founded, it was led mainly by Ashkenazi Jews from Europe, including Ben-Gurion and others. When Jews from Middle Eastern countries, particularly Sephardic Jews, came in the 1950s—many from Morocco—it is well documented that they felt discriminated against by the Ashkenazi establishment. That reality was very much present at the time.

Where are we now, in 2025? The situation is no longer what it once was. Intermarriage has played a role in bridging divisions, and the IDF serves as a great melting pot. In the army, Jews from Yemen, Ethiopia, the broader Middle East, including Sephardim and Ashkenazim, as well as Russians, all serve together. The shared experience of service brings people together.

That is not to deny that discrimination existed in the past. I remember when Ehud Barak, either running for prime minister or already serving, publicly apologized to Sephardic Jews for the discrimination they experienced in the 1950s. You cannot argue with people’s lived perceptions; if they felt discriminated against, that was real for them.

However, by 2025, I do not think this will remain a significant issue. Some may still use it—perhaps politicians for their own expediency—but in the broader sense, within the context of antisemitism, distinctions between Ashkenazi, Sephardi, Mizrahi, and other Jewish groups are, in my view, a non-issue.

Jacobsen: It is politically incorrect for many people to express certain prejudices openly. However, during periods of rising antisemitism, people will seize upon whatever current issue exists and use it as a justification to air their preexisting biases—under the pretext of the present controversy.

Guiora: I understand that. As I have mentioned, I give numerous talks. On occasion, I have faced demonstrations, had police protection, or even been spat on while inside a car. I never felt that was antisemitism. I felt they were attacking me as an Israeli, full stop.

After my Holocaust book came out in 2017, I received death threats. Those threats were posted on neo-Nazi platforms—one styled after Der Stürmer—and in other places. In my opinion, those threats were antisemitic. They included terrible things: “Hang your favourite Jew,” or “Who wants to see Amos’s bloody scalp?” That was clearly antisemitism.

By contrast, when I have faced demonstrations against me, I felt those were anti-Israel, not antisemitic. Once, I was invited as a keynote speaker at a major conference on antisemitism. It was a great honour. There were so many police that they even escorted me to the men’s room. 

I told them, “Fellas, I can take care of myself. I do not need police with me in the bathroom.” Was the heavy security due to fear of protesters? Was that fear about antisemitism or anti-Israel sentiment? Given the context of the conference, I assume antisemitism.

However, in other talks, when people shouted things about Israel, I considered that anti-Israel, not antisemitic. I believe there is a clear distinction between the two.

Jacobsen: Do you think antisemitism is rising?

Guiora: According to groups like the ADL and AJC, who track statistics in the U.S. and Europe, the answer is yes. However, distinguishing whether incidents are anti-Israel or antisemitic is not always straightforward.

For example, recently in New York with my wife, we made a conscious choice not to speak Hebrew in the streets. Is that fear of anti-Israel reaction or fear of antisemitism? I do not know.

We are very conscious of these things. When I travel, I refrain from wearing anything that identifies me as Israeli. The Israeli Foreign Ministry has issued strong recommendations—almost guidelines—not to speak Hebrew in public, not to wear swag with Hebrew writing or Israeli symbols.

I have a religious Israeli friend who wears a kippah. He planned to travel to Europe with friends, all of whom also wear kippot. However, the security concern was significant. Simply being visibly Jewish today, in certain places, carries real risk.

My friend said he would only travel with his group if they did not wear kippot in Europe. One of his friends replied, “I will not take my kippah off in Europe.” My friend responded, “Then I cannot go with you.” So is that fear of anti-Israel sentiment or fear of antisemitism? Yes—it is both.

Jacobsen: Do you think that from an outside perspective, there is really no distinction being made between Sephardic and Ashkenazi Jews? If someone hates Jewish people, they hate Jewish people. When a person is yelling in the street, “Fuck the Jews” or whatever, they are not distinguishing between Sephardic and Ashkenazi Jews. I do not think they even know the difference. Alternatively, if they do, it is irrelevant.

Jacobsen: Has there been any legal progress since that 1970s case?

Guiora: To my understanding, no. The question remains open. According to Jewish law, a Jew is defined as someone born to a Jewish mother. That has raised complicated questions regarding conversion. For instance, who conducted the conversion? Was it an Orthodox rabbi or a Reform rabbi? To the best of my knowledge, the State of Israel—through the Chief Rabbinate—does not recognize conversions conducted by Reform rabbis. That remains a live issue.

From my perspective, anyone who sincerely wants to convert to Judaism should be welcomed. However, the Rabbinate, dominated by Orthodox Judaism, does not recognize non-Orthodox conversions. Politically, the government often accommodates this because it needs Orthodox parties for coalition-building. That is simply the reality.

It reminds me of something: years ago in Ireland, there was a debate about priests offering televised blessings for those unable to attend services. I joked—if you record it and replay it throughout the day, do you receive perpetual indulgences? I will leave that question to you.

Jacobsen: What about outside Israel, in census data? How are people defining Jewish identity around the world?

Guiora: Good question. Here in Utah, as I understand it, when you ask leaders of the Jewish community how many Jews live here, the standard response is about 5,000. It is a round number that gets repeated because there is no precise count. That is how the community itself tends to present it.

If someone’s father is Jewish but the mother is not, then in Israel, they would not be identified as Jewish. For the sake of community purposes elsewhere, they might be accepted as Jews—but not in Israel. Today, in much of the West, such individuals would indeed be considered Jewish. However, in Israel, the Orthodox Rabbinate controls these questions, and their position is clear: Jewish identity follows the mother.

Outside Israel, particularly in Reform communities, there is much greater tolerance. If someone wants to decide that they are a Jew, the response is often, Zay gezunt—so be it. My view is similar: if somebody wants to define themselves as a Jew, God bless them. Seriously.

Jacobsen: What circumstances have you felt involved in genuine, virulent forms of antisemitism directed at you, not just anti-Israel sentiment?

Guiora: I grew up in Ann Arbor, Michigan. I did not experience antisemitism in my childhood. Perhaps once, at Kenyon College in Gambier, Ohio, someone said something foolish. In law school at Case Western—no, not at all. Working in Washington, D.C.—again, not at all. Serving in the IDF for 20 years—none.

Now, having been back in the United States for 20 years, the only antisemitism I have personally experienced was tied to the Holocaust book I published. That brought death threats.

I received one typed letter, postmarked Cleveland, Ohio. (You probably do not even know what a typewriter is—you are too young. 

Jacobsen: They invented typewriters at about the same time they invented dirt. 

Guiora: Anyway, the letter said: Amos— not “Dear Amos,” just “Amos.” The writer had read my book or read about me and wrote, “The next Holocaust is sure to happen, and you will be one of the first victims.” That is antisemitism. There were also comments online, like: Raise your hand if you want to see Amos’s bloody scalp. What is that? 

Jacobsen: Unless this person knew of some obscure historical practice about scalping Jews, it is simply violent antisemitic language directed at me personally.

Guiora: Once, at three o’clock in the morning, I woke up to a whole series of threats. By seven or eight in the morning, they began posting my home address. That is serious. With the Holocaust letter, when my address was made public, we immediately reached out to the police. I understand that someone also contacted the FBI, which was the right thing to do. The moment you publish someone’s home address, that crosses a dangerous line.

What is Holocaust denial? Let me tell you a story. In 2005 or 2006, I was invited to debate the legality of what some call the “fence” and others call the “barrier” between Israel and the West Bank. I was to debate a professor of law.

On my way to the debate, one of my research assistants called me and said, “Professor Guiora, have you read what he writes?” I told her I had not. She said, “He is a Holocaust minimizer.” I asked, “What the hell is that?” She explained: “He acknowledges that the Holocaust happened—thank you—but he says it was two million victims, not six million.”

So I arrive at the debate. We debate the barrier, not the Holocaust. However, as the only child of two Holocaust survivors, whose grandparents were murdered in the Holocaust, I refused to shake his hand afterward—no reason to.

Later, I received a scathing letter from the university provost accusing me of violating principles of academic dignity and integrity. I considered my options: (1) respond politely, (2) write, “Dear Mr. Provost, go fuck yourself,” or (3) delete the email. After thinking it through—tick, tick, tick—I deleted it.

A couple of years later, I ran into the same professor, the Holocaust minimizer, at a conference. He greeted me warmly: “Amos, it is great to see you!” He extended his hand. I looked at it and refused again. No way I would shake that hand.

Now, is he antisemitic? Is he an idiot? Is he anti-Israel? What is that?

Jacobsen: What it brings to mind is the deeper concept of intersubjective agreement—how we define ourselves, how we define our history, how we define offence, and then how we define each other in relation to all those things. It is a sliding scale across all of them.

Guiora: Exactly. When the death threats came in after articles about my book, I had to confront my late mother with this reality. She had no idea Holocaust denial even existed. Living in Israel, it was outside her frame of reference. I remember the painful conversation: not only explaining that people deny the Holocaust, but that some of those same people wanted to kill her son. She could not grasp it.

My mother could not wrap her mind around Holocaust denial. That is no trivial matter. By the way, my mother did not define herself as a Holocaust survivor—she defined herself as a Holocaust winner. She defeated the Holocaust. For her, denial was incomprehensible.

I remember sitting with her in her apartment in Jerusalem. This is how my mom spoke: “Are you fucking kidding me?” Moreover, I said, “No, Mom, I am serious.” She could not, would not, wrap her mind around it.

Jacobsen: What is Holocaust denial? At its core, it says: It did not happen. Holocaust minimization says: Yes, it happened, but the scale was smaller—two million, not six million. That is just another form of denialism, a style of revisionism. On a conceptual spectrum, you could call one pole Holocaust acceptance and the other pole Holocaust denial. In between lies minimization. So yes, it is denial, just by another name.

Guiora: As you know, I am frequently interviewed and meet with numerous people. There are only two categories of people with whom I absolutely refuse to interact. One: neo-Nazis. Two: Holocaust deniers. With them, there is nothing to discuss. They are utterly anathema to me. I engage with a wide range of people—I have even dealt with Hamas. But neo-Nazis and Holocaust deniers? No way.

Jacobsen: Does your being ex-IDF complicate matters, in terms of how people conflate Israeli and Jewish identity—directing hatred at Jews through their opposition to Israel?

Guiora: That is a fascinating question. Are the mistakes in Gaza being used as justification for antisemitism? That is the issue.

Is it antisemitism to call Israel’s actions “genocide”? Some of my American Jewish friends would say yes—instinctively. However, I also have Israeli friends who are deeply, deeply concerned about what the IDF is doing in Gaza. They are not antisemitic. They are Israelis criticizing their own government.

Would some of them say that international criticism of Israel is antisemitic? Perhaps. I have friends who believe that. However, for me, criticism of Israel—especially informed, substantive criticism—is not the same as antisemitism.

The mainstream does not think about Gaza through the lens of antisemitism. They think about it through the lens of: What is Israel doing in Gaza? That is how Israelis themselves frame it.

Jacobsen: Even if it has not been settled in Israeli courts for over fifty years, are there other courts that have a standard, working definition—not widely accepted, but at least functional? Of antisemitism? Or of “Jew”?

Guiora: [Laughing] Jesus, I hope the rest of the world has better things to do than to ask, What is a Jew? Please. When this Gaza war ends, the ICC (International Criminal Court) or the ICJ (International Court of Justice) may have to decide what to do with Netanyahu and others. My expectation is: nothing.

However, I do not view that through the lens of antisemitism. I view it through the lens of international law. Are alleged war crimes being investigated or not? That is the question. Still, I have no doubt some frame it as antisemitism.

For example, some of my friends argue that any potential arrest warrants against Netanyahu or former Defence Minister Yoav Gallant are predicated on antisemitism. Their reasoning is: “There are no arrest warrants against Hamas. There are no arrest warrants against Hezbollah. There are no arrest warrants against others. Therefore, if the only arrest warrants are directed at Israelis, it must be antisemitism.” I am aware of that argument.

However, realistically, no one is going to arrest “Bibi” Netanyahu. No one is going to arrest Yoav Gallant. Any such warrant would be performative.

Is it performative because of antisemitism? Some people absolutely say yes, especially when looking at the long list of others who have committed atrocities. There is an ICC arrest warrant against Putin for war crimes related to Ukraine. There have also been proceedings against leaders like Duterte at the International Criminal Court, though not Assad of Syria, despite his horrific record.

So yes, there is a legitimate debate about selective justice. However, whether that stems from antisemitism is contested.

Jacobsen: On March 17, 2023, following its investigation, the ICC issued arrest warrants for Vladimir Putin and Maria Lvova-Belova. 

Guiora: Putin has not been arrested—unless I somehow missed CNN today—and he will not be arrested. And neither will Netanyahu. These warrants are performative.

Why do I say that? Because, frankly, Putin does not even know the thing exists, and if he does, he does not care. I have had people ask me, “Is Netanyahu worried about being arrested?” Jesus Christ—people do not understand Netanyahu at all. The only things he cares about are Israel and the United States. Europe, for him, is utterly irrelevant.

He uses Macron in France for his own domestic political advantage. If Macron does not understand that, then Macron needs a lesson from Netanyahu, unless Macron himself is also playing a double game for his domestic politics in France, perhaps with elections coming up.

Jacobsen: Years ago, Bill Maher interviewed Netanyahu—this must be over a decade ago. They discussed what is now commonly referred to as Christian nationalism. Certain American evangelicals want events in Israel to unfold in a particular way because they believe it will trigger the Second Coming of Jesus. It is apocalyptic theology. It instrumentalizes Jewish people for someone else’s religious narrative.

Guiora: Every time Israel is attacked—or when a European leader declares support for a Palestinian state—Netanyahu reframes that criticism as antisemitism. He plays it directly to his political base in Israel. It is a tactic. Does Macron realize that when he makes statements about a Palestinian state, it gives Netanyahu another rallying point at home? Perhaps Macron is aware of it and is utilizing it for his own base in France. Maybe not.

Jacobsen: That reminds me of Bill Maher’s point in that interview. Netanyahu, when the second coming arose. He joked, “We will have that conversation when it happens.” It was a sharp line. It connects to something much older. There is a saying often attributed to Roman or Greek thinkers: The wise consider religion false, the ordinary people consider it true, and the rulers consider it useful. 

Guiora: Marx later echoed it with his line, “Religion is the opiate of the masses.” The point is the same: religion—and by extension, Israel in this context—is being used instrumentally.

Jacobsen: Thank you for the opportunity and your time, Amos.

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Scott Douglas Jacobsen is the publisher of In-Sight Publishing (ISBN: 978-1-0692343) and Editor-in-Chief of In-Sight: Interviews (ISSN: 2369-6885). He writes for The Good Men Project, International Policy Digest (ISSN: 2332–9416), The Humanist (Print: ISSN 0018-7399; Online: ISSN 2163-3576), Basic Income Earth Network (UK Registered Charity 1177066), A Further Inquiry, and other media. He is a member in good standing of numerous media organizations.

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Photo by Taylor Brandon on Unsplash

 

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