When antisemitism becomes a political weapon — a personal encounter

“Terrible things are happening outside. At any time of night and day, poor helpless people are being dragged out of their homes.” — Anne Frank

Last week, while displaying a sign reading “Only You Can Prevent Fascism” with a picture of Smokey the Bear at the Oradell train station, a passing motorist gave me a Nazi salute.

As a Jewish woman engaged in peaceful civil expression, I found this to be disturbing. Actually it was jaw-dropping — but the response I received after sharing this incident with someone was revelatory. As preface, this person and I hold different political views, including that their support for certain political figures stems from the need to stand against antisemitism.

Yet instead of outrage at the Nazi salute, this person’s reaction to the incident revealed a stunning moral contradiction: “Well, you put yourself in that situation.” This is akin to blaming sexual assault victims for the clothes they wore — a deflection that protects perpetrators while silencing targets.

This interaction mirrors a broader pattern. People are being detained without due process for their political views. The video of Tufts grad student Rumeysa Ozturk’s abduction by plainclothes ICE agents near the campus I attended as an undergrad keeps running in my head. The “charge” against her was an article that she co-wrote for the school newspaper last year. Yet the Tufts president himself declared that the university found no evidence warranting her detention, while also noting that others had published equally strong opinions without consequence. Her targeting for co-writing an opinion piece raises a critical question: Is this about protecting communities, or silencing dissent?

The hypocrisy I encountered is not unique. It is emblematic of those outraged when a Democratic congresswoman used an antisemitic trope (for which she apologized) but weren’t bothered by Elon Musk’s performance of what is recognizable as a Nazi salute. (My friend demurred to Musk’s stance: “He said it wasn’t.”) These feats of mental gymnastics reveal how antisemitism is condemned selectively, based on who commits it and whether it serves a political narrative.

The moral contradiction could not be any clearer: How can anyone claim to oppose hatred while suggesting that people speaking out against fascism should expect Nazi salutes? Several days after my outing with Smokey, the New York Times ran an article voicing concerns in the Jewish community: “We’re being used,” warned one rabbi in a sermon titled “I Am Not Your Pawn,” expressing alarm at how Jews are being positioned as political pawns. Kenneth Stern, the author of the IHRA definition of antisemitism, underscores this view. He has warned that the fight against anti-Jewish hatred is undermined when concerns about antisemitism are selectively weaponized rather than consistently applied.

Standing against fascism isn’t partisan — it’s fundamental to preserving democracy. That my sign provoked a Nazi salute reflects the disturbing normalization of such hatred. The reaction to my experience reveals a deeper problem — selective outrage that shifts depending on who’s being targeted or who’s doing the targeting.

True opposition to bigotry requires consistent moral clarity, not political convenience. Whether it’s a congresswoman’s comments or a billionaire’s gesture, Ozturk’s detention (as just one example) or my experience, our response should be guided by principle, not politics. Because fighting against bigotry is too important to be weaponized for political gain.

Karen Bonuck is a researcher and disability advocate. She is a longtime resident of Oradell.

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