Greg Bouwer
IINZ
Antisemitism (the world’s oldest hatred) has taken on a new, insidious form in New Zealand. Once confined to fringe elements, this prejudice is steadily creeping into the mainstream, not with the open virulence of the past, but wrapped in the language of social justice, resistance, and progressivism. It is increasingly visible in our schools, universities, protests, political discourse, and social media feeds. And disturbingly, it is being tolerated, even legitimised, in ways that would have been unthinkable just a few years ago.
This is not a marginal phenomenon. It is a moral crisis.
New Zealand is not immune to global trends. Around the world, we are witnessing a resurgence of antisemitism in both its classical and contemporary forms. Swastikas on synagogues in Canada. Antisemitic chants on European streets. Jewish students assaulted on American campuses. Here in New Zealand, we have seen an uptick in anti-Jewish incidents: hate mail sent to synagogues, Jewish gravestones desecrated, Holocaust survivors harassed online, and Jewish children in schools facing isolation and hostility. Reports to the NZ Police and New Zealand Jewish Council have increased significantly.
But what is perhaps most alarming is not simply the rise in these incidents – it is the societal indifference that often greets them. Antisemitism is becoming normalised.
Conflating Zionism with Racism
One of the clearest pathways by which antisemitism enters the mainstream in New Zealand is through the demonisation of Zionism. Criticism of Israeli government policy is, of course, legitimate – Israel, like any democracy, is not above critique. But in New Zealand’s public discourse, especially in activist and academic circles, the critique of Israel often morphs into a wholesale rejection of Jewish self-determination.
Zionism is the belief that Jews, like all other peoples, have the right to national self-determination in their ancestral homeland. It is not a fringe ideology: it is a central part of modern Jewish identity for millions around the world. Yet it is frequently framed in New Zealand as inherently racist, colonialist, or even genocidal. Jews who identify as Zionists (or who are merely assumed to be) are subjected to suspicion, exclusion, or outright hostility. This creates a chilling effect where Jewish people feel they must choose between their identity and their safety.
Such rhetoric is not abstract. When anti-Israel protests in New Zealand are accompanied by chants of “from the river to the sea”, when public officials endorse boycotts of the world’s only Jewish state, or when academics publish articles suggesting that Zionism should be “disarmed”, the message to the Jewish community is clear: you are not welcome unless you disavow your connection to Israel. This goes far beyond political critique. It targets Jewish identity itself.
Imported Ideologies, Local Consequences
Like many Western democracies, New Zealand is increasingly vulnerable to imported ideological trends — especially those that frame all global struggles through the lens of settler colonialism, power, and privilege. In this framework, Jews are often recast not as a historically persecuted people, but as agents of white supremacy or Western imperialism.
This grotesque inversion of history erases centuries of Jewish persecution, pogroms, ghettos, expulsions, and genocide. It also obscures the reality that many Jews in New Zealand (and globally) are from Mizrahi, Sephari or Ethiopian backgrounds and do not fit into simplistic narratives or ‘whiteness’.
Worse, this framework can legitimise antisemitic conspiracy theories, which have found new life on social media. Age-old tropes about Jewish control of media, finance, and government are now disguised in more palatable forms: talk of ‘Zionist lobbies’, ‘globalist elites’, or ‘dual loyalty’. These ideas spread easily and rapidly online, especially on platforms like TikTok, Telegram, and X (formerly Twitter), where outrage travels faster than fact.
New Zealanders are not immune. During and after the October 7 massacre of Israeli civilians by Hamas (a moment of profound trauma for Jews globally) some New Zealanders celebrated the violence, posted memes mocking the victims, or claimed it was justified resistance. In some cases, Jewish New Zealanders were told they were complicit in ‘genocide’ simply for expressing grief. These reactions may have been presented as political solidarity, but when they dismiss Jewish suffering or glorify terror, they cross a clear line. This is not activism. It is antisemitism, pure and simple.
The Silence of Institutions
The institutions that should be standing against this tide have too often remained silent – or worse, complicit.
The New Zealand government has chosen not to adopt the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance (IHRA) working definition of antisemitism. This definition, developed by experts and endorsed by over 40 countries including the UK, Canada, Germany, the US and Australia, is a practical tool that helps policymakers, educators and civil society distinguish between legitimate criticism of Israel and antisemitic rhetoric.
The IHRA definition states that “antisemitism is a certain perception of Jews, which may be expressed as hatred toward Jews.” It includes illustrative examples to show how antisemitism can manifest – such as denying the Jewish people their right to self-determination by claiming that the existence of Israel is a racist endeavour, or holding Jews collectively responsible for the actions of the State of Israel. It also clearly affirms that criticism of Israeli policies (like that of any other country) is not antisemitic, unless it employs double standards or demonising language.
Rather than focussing on the adoption of the definition at the governmental level, though, New Zealand should prioritise widespread education about the IHRA definition – its purpose, scope and limitations. Understanding how the definition is applied around the world (from university campuses to police training) can help New Zealanders develop the tools to distinguish between legitimate political discourse from anti-Jewish hate. This is essential in a climate where antisemitism often hides behind the language of activism or critique.
Ultimately, the goal is not censorship. It is clarity. And clarity is the first step toward accountability.
Universities, which should be spaces of rigorous debate and inclusivity, have hosted events that question the legitimacy of Israel’s existence while excluding Jewish voices. Some student unions have passed resolutions in support of BDS (Boycott, Divestment, Sanctions), a movement that singles out Israel alone among the world’s nations for isolation – ignoring China, Russia, Iran, and others with far worse human rights records.
When libraries cancel events featuring Jewish authors, when local councils debate boycotting Israeli goods, and when prominent politicians stay silent amid surging antisemitic rhetoric, it sends a dangerous message: that Jewish pain does not count. That Jews are not entitled to the same protection and solidarity extended to others.
A Disturbing Example: Peter Davis’s Comments
A recent incident underscores the troubling normalisation of antisemitism in New Zealand’s public discourse. In May 2025, Peter Davis, a sociologist and trustee of the Helen Clark Foundation, responded to the discovery of antisemitic graffiti in Wellington with a social media post stating “you reap what you sow”. His remarks were widely interpreted as downplaying or rationalising the hate crime, leading to condemnation from community leaders and human rights advocates. He then went further by conflating the “Jews” referred to in the graffiti with the State of Israel and her actions in a defensive war.
The Israel Institute of New Zealand called for Davis’s resignation from the Helen Clark Foundation, arguing that his comments were incompatible with its mission of promoting social cohesion and inclusivity. As of yet, the foundation has neither condemned his comments nor distanced itself from them.
Educational Failures
One of the root causes of this indifference is ignorance. Proper education is not optional – it is essential. New Zealanders know far too little about Jewish history, antisemitism, or the Holocaust. Holocaust education is not compulsory in schools. Many students graduate without understanding what antisemitism is or how it manifests today, especially in its modern political and ideological forms. In such an environment, dangerous myths flourish unchecked.
A comprehensive education strategy should include mandatory Holocaust education, units on the history of antisemitism (both ancient and modern) and civic education that explores how hate speech and discrimination manifest in society. It should also involve training for teachers, resources for schools and clear guidelines that help educators recognise antisemitism – including when it appears in social media or political discourse. Without this, antisemitism is too easily mistaken for legitimate activism or commentary.
This educational gap is compounded by the fact that the Jewish community in New Zealand is small – less than 0.2 per cent of the population. Many Kiwis may never meet a Jewish person, let alone understand the diversity of Jewish experience. Without personal connection or accurate education, antisemitism can appear as a distant or even abstract issue. It is not.
Education alone will not eliminate antisemitism. But it is an essential foundation for building a society that recognises and resists hate. We must empower young New Zealanders with the knowledge to distinguish between critique and bigotry, and to stand up for the values of pluralism, dignity and justice.
The Moral Test of Our Time
This moment demands moral clarity. Antisemitism is not merely a Jewish issue. It is a litmus test for the health of any democracy. A society that cannot protect its Jewish citizens (or worse, refuses to hear them) is a society that is failing its most basic commitments to justice, equality, and human dignity.
It is not antisemitic to criticise Israeli policy. Many Jews do. But it is antisemitic to hold Jews collectively responsible for it. It is antisemitic to deny the Jewish people the right to self-determination. It is antisemitic to call for the destruction of Israel while remaining silent about genuine oppression elsewhere. It is antisemitic to erase Jewish identity, history, and trauma because it does not fit neatly into prevailing ideological frameworks.
New Zealand must do better.
It must educate the public about the IHRA definition of antisemitism and why it matters. It must invest in Holocaust and antisemitism education at every level of the education system. It must demand that our media, our universities, our political leaders, and our civil society organisations uphold the same standards of respect and solidarity for Jews as they do for any other minority group. And it must reject, unequivocally, the creeping normalisation of antisemitism in all its forms.
The Jewish community in New Zealand is resilient. It is proud. But it should not have to face this alone.
The question before us is simple: will we wait until it is too late to act, or will we choose to stand against hate before it becomes the new normal?
This article was originally published by the Israel Institute of New Zealand.
