Historically, the United States government has not made the consistent protection of Jewish communities—or any marginalized group—a genuine priority. Jews make up roughly 2%, or slightly less, of the U.S. population. So when politicians and officials claim that deportations, surveillance crackdowns, or restrictions on protest are somehow “for the protection of Jews,” we should all be asking: Since when has our safety been the justification for state violence?
When Jewish identity is used to justify the expansion of state power, it’s not about protecting Jews—it’s about finding a politically convenient shield. It’s about using the very real pain and trauma of antisemitism to rationalize harmful policies that target immigrants, Muslims, Palestinians, Black and brown communities, and people critical of U.S. or Israel policy. That’s not protection—it’s the manipulation of our pain.
Antisemitism is real. It is deadly. And we must name it and fight it wherever it shows up. But when we allow our safety to be weaponized against others—when we stay silent while the government claims it’s protecting us by harming vulnerable communities—we become complicit in the suffering of others.
And this is especially painful to witness during Passover, the very season when we retell the story of our collective liberation. We were freed from Mitzrayim not as individuals but as a mixed multitude—a coalition of the vulnerable and oppressed, fleeing a regime that relied on fear and control. Our story reminds us that true liberation is shared. That our freedom is tied up with the freedom of others.
We are not safer when the state expands its power to silence, surveil, and deport. That kind of “protection” has never worked for us—and it never will. The history of Jews in America, and around the world, teaches us that our survival is bound up in the liberation of others. We don’t get free by turning our backs on those being targeted. We get free by standing with them.
So the next time someone says a policy is “to protect the Jews,” pause. Ask who is being centered—and who is being sacrificed. True safety doesn’t come at the expense of others. If justice isn’t shared, it isn’t justice at all.
Our ancestors didn’t cross the sea alone. And we won’t reach liberation by leaving others behind.
Image Credit: Wikipedia
