USA Daily News
Top US news in one place!


Shifting Realities: The Impact of the Israel-Hamas Conflict on Jewish Americans and the Surge in US Hate Crimes


In the wake of the Israel-Hamas conflict, the reverberations are not confined to the geopolitical arena; they are manifesting in the everyday lives of Jewish Americans. Melissa Franklin, who once adorned her home with Hanukkah decorations, now hesitates, grappling with the fear of potential retaliation and vandalism. The aftermath of the October 7 attack on Israel has seen a distressing surge in hate crimes and antisemitism across the United States.

Jewish synagogues and community centers, grappling with security concerns, have witnessed a palpable increase in threats of violence. College campuses have become arenas for impassioned protests, reflecting the divisive nature of the conflict. Tragically, the repercussions turned fatal when 69-year-old Paul Kessler lost his life in Southern California during a confrontation at dueling protests. A pro-Palestinian protester faces charges of involuntary manslaughter and battery, though he maintains the peaceful nature of his actions that day.

For Melissa Franklin and countless others, the spike in antisemitism has transformed daily life. Displaying Jewish identity publicly now comes with an unsettling discomfort, leading some to alter long-held traditions. The Jewish Federations of North America acknowledge widespread fear among Jewish families, with Sarah Eisenman, Chief Community and Jewish Life Officer, expressing empathy for those altering routines or concealing their Jewish heritage to avoid becoming targets. Eisenman stresses the justified fear permeating the current environment, urging collective outrage.

In an effort to comprehend the multifaceted impact of hate-motivated attacks, CNN sought perspectives from Arabs, Muslims, and Jews across America. Nearly 800 respondents illuminated the complex tapestry of emotions and responses. Among Jewish Americans, stories emerge of concealing kippahs, eschewing Star of David necklaces, and forsaking cherished religious traditions. Some express trepidation even to visit synagogues, sacred spaces that now evoke fear of violence, harassment, or persecution based on religious identity.

These narratives unveil a disconcerting reality wherein the Israel-Hamas conflict not only shapes international relations but also reshapes the intimate fabric of lives within American communities, challenging the very essence of religious freedom and identity.

In the face of escalating antisemitism fueled by the Israel-Hamas conflict, Michael Edelman grapples with the harsh reality of religious vulnerability in New York City. Heeding his mother's warnings, Edelman, 25, now conceals his kippah with a baseball cap when venturing into public spaces. The Anti-Defamation League (ADL) reports a disturbing tally of 312 antisemitic incidents in the first 17 days following the Oct. 7 attack on Israel, encompassing harassment, vandalism, and assault.

Despite the encouragement to proudly display his religious identity, Edelman opts for caution, recognizing the wisdom in donning a hat. The surge in antisemitic attacks and anti-Israel protests intensifies his vigilance in public spaces, prompting him to forgo headphones and steer clear of certain areas in New York prone to violence.

A recent graduate from Yeshiva University, Edelman finds the haunting images of the Israel-Hamas war disrupting his focus on job applications. The constant news-checking and anxiety over the conflict's impact weigh heavily on his daily life. Despite these challenges, one steadfast aspect remains — his commitment to attending synagogue for solace and prayer, a source of comfort amid the tumultuous times.

Similarly affected, Elliot Malin from Reno, Nevada, has made a poignant decision to remove his lifelong emblem, the Star of David necklace, in response to rising tensions. At a pro-Palestine rally in October, he endured antisemitic obscenities from demonstrators, illustrating the palpable impact of the conflict on Jewish individuals navigating their identity in an increasingly fraught landscape.

Elliot Malin, a 31-year-old political consultant, found himself at a pro-Palestine rally not to confront but to ensure the safety of the Jewish community members. Despite choosing not to engage with the demonstrators, the unsettling threats have left a lasting impact. While he acknowledges his own visibility within the community, concern for the safety of his less conspicuous family members, particularly his wife and parents, has become a pressing worry. Contemplating the removal of their Mezuzah, a sacred scroll blessing their home, stems from a fear rooted in past experiences, such as a swastika drawn on their light post in 2016.

The heightened danger and pervasive fear have pushed Malin to take precautionary measures, striving to protect his family in an increasingly uncertain environment. Recalling an armed security presence during a recent synagogue visit, he expresses discomfort at the idea that such precautions are necessary for worship. Malin questions the acceptability of needing armed police just to practice faith, emphasizing the unfairness not only to the Jewish community but also to others, like some Muslim neighbors who face similar challenges.

Meanwhile, in Phoenix, Melissa Franklin, a 50-year-old mother, grapples with concerns over the safety of her four college-aged children. Instructing them to conceal anything representing their Jewish identity, including Star of David necklaces and a son's Hebrew tattoo, she notes the melancholy reality of cautioning against public displays of Jewishness. The dueling protests on college campuses across the country add to her anxieties, describing the campus climate as "terrifying and too much to bear." Despite security measures at Jewish community events and her synagogue, Franklin refrains from attending, driven by a deep-seated discomfort and the overarching fear of the unforeseen consequences of her presence.

As the granddaughter of Holocaust survivors, Franklin reflects on the unexpected turn of events, never imagining a time when her personal safety and the safety of her children would be compromised due to their Jewish identity. The evolving landscape is not only reshaping daily routines but also challenging the fundamental sense of security within the Jewish community.

In the shadow of the solemn vow of "never again," Melissa Franklin finds herself grappling with a disconcerting reality she had hoped to avoid. The echoes of mass killings and attacks on Jews, etched in the history of a past generation, were supposed to remain distant memories. Franklin, as the granddaughter of Holocaust survivors, carried a sense of insulation from the terror that had plagued her family's past. However, in the face of contemporary challenges fueled by the Israel-Hamas conflict, that insulation now proves to be a false sense of security.

The hope that history would not repeat itself is now met with a stark realization that the world she envisioned, free from the horrors of targeted violence against Jews, is far from the current reality. The surge in antisemitic incidents and the need for precautionary measures have shattered the illusion of safety, challenging the very foundation of the promise made after the atrocities of the past. Franklin's experience reflects a poignant reminder that, despite the solemn pledges, the specter of hate and violence still looms, requiring a renewed commitment to confront and address the evolving threats to the Jewish community.

In conclusion, the personal narratives of individuals like Michael Edelman, Elliot Malin, and Melissa Franklin paint a vivid and sobering picture of the profound impact the Israel-Hamas conflict has had on the daily lives of Jewish Americans. The surge in antisemitic incidents and the palpable fear that now permeates their experiences challenge the very essence of the assurances made in the aftermath of historical atrocities. The disheartening realization that the promise of "never again" remains elusive underscores the urgent need for collective reflection and action.

As these individuals navigate a landscape where caution replaces celebration and anxiety supplants a sense of security, the broader conversation extends beyond personal anecdotes. It prompts a critical examination of societal values, religious freedoms, and the true extent of the global commitment to preventing the recurrence of historical injustices.

The ongoing conflict not only shapes international relations but also redefines the contours of identity, faith, and belonging within the Jewish community in America. In the face of rising tensions, the call for solidarity, understanding, and an unwavering commitment to combatting hate becomes more pressing than ever. The stories shared by these individuals serve as poignant reminders that the pursuit of a world free from discrimination and violence requires not just words, but a collective and sustained effort to address the complex web of challenges that continue to threaten the fabric of diverse communities.