On July 12, Europe marks Alfred Dreyfus Day, commemorating the French Jewish army officer whose wrongful conviction for treason became one of the defining symbols of modern antisemitism. More than a century later, Europe likes to believe that the Dreyfus Affair belongs safely to history, a reminder of prejudices overcome and lessons learned.
Nonetheless, the uncomfortable truth is that while the language has changed, many of the underlying patterns have not.
The challenge facing European Jews today does not resemble the antisemitism of the late nineteenth century. It is rarely expressed through crude racial theories or open declarations of hatred. Instead, it increasingly arrives wrapped in the language of politics, activism, and social justice. The result is not always easier to recognize, but it can be just as damaging.
The Hamas murderous attacks of October 7, 2023, and the war that followed transformed the landscape of antisemitism across Europe. What began as outrage over a conflict in the Middle East quickly spilled onto European streets, campuses, workplaces and online platforms. Too often, the distinction between criticisms the policies of the Israeli government and Jewish citizens living in Europe simply disappeared.
This is perhaps the most significant change of all. Increasingly, Jews in Paris, Berlin, Brussels or London are treated not primarily as French, German, Belgian or British citizens, but as representatives of Israel, expected to answer for events thousands of kilometers away. Collective responsibility, one of history's oldest prejudices, has returned in modern form.
Jews are singled out in a way no other religious, ethnic or national community in Europe is that is connected to one of the dozens of conflicts currently raging across the globe.
The data reflects what many Jewish communities already know from daily experience. Record levels of antisemitic incidents have been documented across several Western democracies. Many Jews now avoid displaying visible signs of their identity, reconsider attending public events, or think twice before speaking openly about being Jewish. For many, security has become a permanent feature of ordinary life rather than an exceptional precaution.
Equally troubling is the evolution of language itself.
The word "Zionist", which simply means those who believe that the Jews have a right to self-determination in their ancestral and indigenous homeland, has been misappropriated by antisemites and is increasingly used as a substitute for "Jew."
Jewish students, academics, artists, doctors and businesspeople often find themselves targeted regardless of their own political views or personal connection to Israel. What once would have been recognized immediately as antisemitic is now frequently presented as acceptable political discourse.
Universities have become one of the principal battlegrounds. Debate over Israel and Gaza is entirely legitimate in democratic societies. Intimidation is not. Across Europe and North America, many Jewish students report harassment, disruption of Jewish events and pressure simply because of their identity. When intimidation replaces discussion, universities fail their own commitment to free inquiry.
The digital world has accelerated these trends further. Social media rewards outrage, simplifies complex conflicts into moral absolutes and enables conspiracy theories and hatred to spread with extraordinary speed. Memes, slogans and coded language often reach millions before facts have an opportunity to catch up, while algorithms amplify emotion far more effectively than nuance.
History reminds us that antisemitism has rarely remained a problem affecting Jews alone. It has consistently served as an early warning signal of wider democratic decline. Societies that tolerate the dehumanization of one minority rarely stop there. The erosion of pluralism, the normalization of conspiracy theories and the justification of political violence ultimately threaten everyone.
That is why Alfred Dreyfus Day should not simply be an occasion to remember a historical injustice. It should be an opportunity to ask whether Europe is recognizing the warning signs before they become entrenched.
The response cannot rely solely on policing or legislation, important though both remain. The decisive struggle will be for the next generation.
Young people today encounter much of their understanding of world affairs not through classrooms or newspapers but through social media, short-form video, influencers and online communities. This is where narratives are formed, identities are shaped and prejudices can either take root or be challenged. If democratic societies fail to engage these spaces, others will fill the vacuum with extremism, misinformation and hatred.
Education must therefore evolve beyond Holocaust remembrance alone. Young Europeans need the tools to recognize how ancient prejudices adapt to modern language, how collective blame operates, and why democratic societies depend upon protecting minorities even during times of conflict.
At the same time, Europe should invest in something equally ambitious: building an Abrahamic alliance for the twenty-first century.
Rather than allowing extremists to divide Jews, Christians and Muslims, governments, faith leaders, educators and civil society should work together through permanent partnerships dedicated to confronting hatred in all its forms.
Such an alliance would not erase political disagreements over the Middle East, and nor should it. Instead, it would establish a simple but vital principle: disagreement must never become dehumanization.
Joint educational programs, youth initiatives, exchanges between communities and coordinated responses to hate crimes can create relationships that extremists struggle to undermine. Young people who grow up working together across religious and cultural lines become far less susceptible to narratives built on fear and division.
The Dreyfus Affair taught Europe the dangers of allowing prejudice to disguise itself as justice. Today's challenge is different in form but similar in essence. Once again, society is being tested on whether it can distinguish legitimate political disagreement from collective hatred directed at an entire people.
Remembering Alfred Dreyfus is important. Ensuring that Europe does not create the conditions for a new generation of Dreyfus cases is far more important still.
Dr. Moshe Kantor is President of the European Jewish Congress, the representative organization of European Jewish communities.