Almost immediately after the Oct. 7 Hamas assault in Israel, when a small but then growing number of campus voices either praised or more passively supported the attack, discussions in Jewish circles turned to the hostile environment for Jews in some of our more elite academic institutions. Not surprisingly, decades-long promotion of intersectional rhetoric and accompanying activism resulted in campus-based movements expecting alignment of all left-leaning and minority-identifying organizations and individuals with the anti-occupation pro-Palestinian camp. Under this umbrella were supporters of armed struggle against Israel, including supporters of Hamas. 

At that early stage of our current campus crisis, some Jewish voices and right-leaning advocates were already calling for boycotts of those prestigious schools and embracing more welcoming institutions, if not advocating for the creation of new colleges entirely to meet the needs of the moment. Some Christian schools — many of which had no Jewish presence at all — and a number of less prestigious Southern schools called on their Jewish brothers and sisters to find a new home on their campuses. 

While this reaction represents an understandable response to challenging times, I fear this type of self-imposed abandonment of more “small-L” liberal academic ideals effectively capitulates and cedes ownership of an important civic space to the more extreme voices at the poles of our ideological spectrum.

In a recent Mosaic magazine essay, Tikvah Fund CEO Eric Cohen offers a singular perspective on how Jewish communities should respond to increasing antisemitism on university campuses. Cohen advocates for a strategic exodus from hostile elite universities to more welcoming institutions, or even establishing new Jewish colleges. While the logic of such a call is understandable under the current circumstances, this approach also reveals an attitude that reinforces the intersectional worldview, the basic binary perspective and overall ideological polarization that continues to fragment American society. 

Suggesting that students must be all-in or all-out regarding their campuses’ responses to the challenges we have seen this past academic year oversimplifies the complex reality of Jewish life and identity on campus. A more nuanced approach would acknowledge the multifaceted nature of Jewish experiences and perspectives, the gray zone of lived experience rather than black/white ideals. This appreciation for complexity is necessary to effectively address and combat antisemitism while also recognizing the legitimacy of expressing support for Palestinian self-determination.

Cohen’s perspective hinges on the notion that Jewish students face a stark choice: To remain in hostile environments as dissidents, withdraw into isolation or move to Israel — or to help renew America through Jewish energy and values. Rather than rejecting the oppressed/oppressor, good/evil, black/white construct that pervades academia, Cohen and the voices he represents seemingly accept this social division.

This binary framing does not adequately capture the lived experiences of many Jewish students and the diverse nature of their self-understanding and responses to antisemitism on campus. This attitude also concedes that the institutions themselves are literally incorrigible, and Jews should therefore retreat into the protective environment of like-minded institutions and individuals. The “our camp or their camp” attitude aligns with the politics (if not necessarily the academics) of intersectionality, which has resulted in seemingly well-meaning social justice movements strangely finding themselves advocating support for Hamas. So too are well-intentioned movements to promote Jewish safety on campus and reject antisemitism risking falling into the mirror image of the intersectional movement by calling for an alliance of conservative religious individuals and organizations regardless of the broad spectrum of values and attitudes they represent.

Jewish responses to campus antisemitism are far from monolithic, just as the nature of Jewish identity and the degree to which Jewish students feel compelled to engage in campus identity politics varies widely. Different communities, individuals and organizations have developed a range of strategies to address the issue, reflecting their unique perspectives, values and goals.

For instance, some Jewish students and faculty members choose to engage directly with their universities, advocating for policy changes, increased security and more robust educational programs about antisemitism and Jewish history. These efforts aim to transform the campus environment from within, fostering greater understanding and tolerance and demanding that universities universally apply the ideals of fairness and inclusion they claim to advocate, particularly expanding DEI efforts to encompass Jews within the broader goal of inclusivity. Many Jewish students and their families who are willing to call out the apparent double standard that has allowed for expressions of antisemitism are not ready to exile or ghettoize themselves in more protective environments; instead, they seek evolutionary change from within the institutions themselves — their administration, faculty and students — to recognize that well-intentioned policies have missed the mark with respect to fostering amicable communities of tolerance and respect as they have excluded categories of individuals who require protection, chiefly Jews on campus.

Other Jewish groups focus on building strong, supportive communities on campus, creating spaces where Jewish students can feel safe and celebrated. Hillel chapters, Chabad houses and other Jewish organizations often play a crucial role in providing social, cultural, and religious support, helping students navigate and respond to antisemitism while maintaining a sense of belonging and identity among themselves. Just as in decades past — and in line with the historical role of women’s student centers, LGBTQ+ student groups and African American and Latinx student organizations – Hillels and Chabads can support students during difficult times without forcing students to abandon challenging campuses. One might even argue that effectively responding to antisemitic trends demands an ongoing Jewish presence.

An array of broad-based strategies that combine elements from Cohen’s proposal with other strategies can offer a more comprehensive response to campus antisemitism. To be sure, for a subset of Jewish students, a more protective and ideologically homogeneous environment might suit their needs. For others, however, Jewish communities can work to create strong networks of support within problematic elite colleges and universities rather than entirely abandoning them. Most importantly, those students and their advocates can vocally decry the proliferating polarization on our campuses and in civic life more broadly.

I fear that an exodus strategy concedes to the demand for ideological purity and resultant tribalism, further eroding the small-D democratic ideals that have been conducive to Jewish acceptance and success in America in the post-WWII era. Indeed, this approach reinforces the very cultural environment of cancellation and intersectionality it claims to reject, thereby lending itself to the very same claims of hypocrisy and single-mindedness that gave rise to campus leftist orthodoxy.

Fostering alliances with other minority groups on campus (as opposed to leaving campus) can help build coalitions against all forms of discrimination, creating a more inclusive and supportive environment for everyone. This work is challenging, to be sure, as finding collegial leadership in other communities demands they too reject the binary; but by working together, students from diverse backgrounds can amplify their voices and advocate for broader institutional changes that benefit all marginalized groups. 

The cynical nature of Washington politics taints attempts to legislate or otherwise regulate antisemitism out of university life with perceptions of political opportunism. Just as many of us reject the subsuming of attitudes towards Israel within a rigidly ideologically binary worldview on the far left, so too must we be wary of the right’s willingness to co-opt Middle East politics to support an equally rigid political agenda.

Addressing campus antisemitism requires acknowledging the multilayered perspectives of the issue and the diversity of Jewish experiences, while embracing the complexity typically required to address important social challenges. This approach cannot unfold in isolation but rather as an acknowledgment of the broader moral and ethical complexities of the adult world we inhabit. The traditional academic commitment to instilling an appreciation for and tools to engage in critical thinking and true problem-solving demands greater openness to historical, social and political complexity. No single solution can accurately represent the multiple voices within the Jewish community that share the overarching goal of challenging hostility to Jews and Israel in our colleges and universities. By embracing a range of strategies and fostering collaboration among Jewish communities and their allies, a more effective and inclusive response to campus antisemitism can be achieved.

Like so many episodes in Jewish history — American or otherwise — the broader political and social contexts create the forces in which the particular Jewish narrative unfolds. Unless we recognize and do our utmost to reject the binary structure of contemporary civil (or too often uncivil) discourse, I remain pessimistic regarding America’s ability to remain the exception in creating a hospitable environment for Jews as individuals and as a community. Responses to the current campus crises that reinforce a rigidly us vs. them mentality merely perpetuate a growing chasm in American society that does not portend positive outcomes for American Jewry.

Brian Amkraut, a vice president at Mercy University in New York, received his bachelor of arts degree from Columbia University and his doctorate in Jewish history from New York University. He served as provost of the Siegal College of Judaic Studies in Cleveland and was the founding executive director of the Siegal Lifelong Learning program at Case Western Reserve University.