Antisemitism is often discussed as a European legacy or a feature of far-right politics in the West. Yet one of its most persistent and underexamined manifestations lies in parts of the Middle East and the broader Islamic world. Acknowledging this reality is uncomfortable but necessary for any honest conversation about peace, coexistence, and the future of the region.

To be clear, this is not an indictment of all Muslims or all Arab societies. Across the Middle East and within Muslim communities globally, there are countless individuals who reject antisemitism and advocate dialogue and coexistence. However, it is equally true that in several countries, unfavourable views toward Jews remain widespread. These attitudes are not accidental; they are shaped by a complex interplay of history, politics, identity, and prolonged conflict.

The turning point came in the mid-20th century. The creation of Israel in 1948, followed by successive Arab-Israeli wars, transformed regional politics and public sentiment. What began as a political and territorial dispute in many cases evolved into something broader. Opposition to Zionism, often rooted in questions of land, sovereignty, and displacement gradually merged, in some contexts, with hostility toward Jews as a people. This conflation has had long-lasting consequences.

Over the decades, political rhetoric, media narratives, and in certain instances educational content in parts of the region have reinforced negative portrayals of Jews. In some cases, these narratives have drawn on older antisemitic tropes, including conspiracy theories about global influence or distorted representations of history. Holocaust denial or minimization, while not universal, has also appeared in public discourse in certain countries, further complicating efforts at mutual understanding.

It is important to recognize that such attitudes do not exist in a vacuum. The unresolved Israeli-Palestinian conflict continues to shape perceptions across the region. Images of violence, occupation, and humanitarian suffering evoke strong emotional responses, which are often channelled into generalized hostility. For many, the political becomes deeply personal. Yet when anger at state policies transforms into prejudice against an entire people, it undermines the very principles of justice and human dignity that are often invoked.

The role of political leadership cannot be ignored. Statements from influential figures, whether denying Israel’s legitimacy, invoking eliminationist rhetoric, or perpetuating historical distortions have, at times, reinforced rather than challenged hostility. At the same time, regional rivalries and ideological movements have frequently instrumentalized the Palestinian cause, using it to mobilize public opinion while offering little in terms of meaningful resolution.

Another often overlooked dimension is the near disappearance of Jewish communities from many Arab countries during the mid-20th century. For centuries, Jewish populations lived across cities like Baghdad, Cairo, Damascus, and Casablanca, contributing to the cultural and economic life of the region. Their mass exodus, driven by war, insecurity, and discrimination marked the end of a long-standing pluralistic presence. The memory of this shared history has largely faded, replaced by narratives of separation and hostility.

The issue is not confined to the Middle East alone. In Europe and elsewhere, where migration has created increasingly diverse societies, elements of Middle Eastern political narratives have sometimes carried over into diaspora communities. Reports of antisemitic incidents involving individuals of varied backgrounds including those of Middle Eastern origin highlight the challenges of integration in a globalized world. These incidents should never be used to stigmatize entire communities, but they do underscore how unresolved conflicts can transcend borders.

Addressing antisemitism in the Middle East and the broader Islamic world requires nuance and honesty. It is not about assigning collective blame, nor about ignoring other forms of prejudice. Islamophobia, racism, and anti-Arab discrimination are real and must be confronted with equal seriousness. But confronting one form of hatred cannot come at the expense of ignoring another.

A meaningful way forward begins with education and critical engagement. Encouraging historical literacy, promoting balanced narratives, and creating space for open dialogue are essential steps. Civil society, religious leaders, and political institutions all have a role to play in challenging harmful stereotypes and fostering a culture of mutual respect.

Equally important is the ability to distinguish clearly between legitimate political criticism and ethnic or religious hostility. Criticism of Israeli government policies, like criticism of any state is a normal and necessary part of political discourse. But when such criticism slips into demonization, collective blame, or denial of a people’s history and identity, it crosses into dangerous territory.

Peace in the Middle East will not come solely through diplomacy or military calculations. It also depends on transforming the narratives that shape how communities see one another. As long as antisemitism remains embedded in segments of public discourse, it will continue to hinder trust and reconciliation.

Honest conversations are rarely easy. But without them, the region risks remaining trapped in cycles of mistrust and hostility. Confronting antisemitism openly, critically, and without defensiveness is not just a moral imperative. It is a necessary step toward any lasting and meaningful peace.

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)