Isaac de Castro, the cofounder of a group that monitors anti-Semitic incidents at American universities, reports on some recent cases:

At Columbia University, Jewish students were spat on and called murderers on their way to class, and professors have told their students anti-Semitism is no longer an issue [of concern]. At Cornell, a student assembly member was threatened . . . if he did not vote for BDS (boycotting, divesting from, and sanctioning Israel). At the University of Southern California, the student-body vice-president resigned from her position after being the victim of bullying and harassment for [identifying] as a Zionist. At Tufts, a student-judiciary member was silenced when discussing an unquestionably anti-Semitic referendum because his Jewish identity allegedly made him biased.

But what starts at universities refuses to stay there:

California’s ethnic-studies model curriculum . . . was unanimously passed by the state Board of Education. The lesson plans aim to teach children a racial hierarchy, in which Jews are the only group described with the word “privilege.” In previous version, Jews were not even mentioned. Capitalism was cited as a form of oppression along with racism and Islamophobia; anti-Semitism was not. Students who have been exposed to, and conditioned by, these illiberal tenets in college are entering the workforce and [are now themselves in a position] to reach the vulnerable minds of young kids to create a tightly knit cycle of indoctrination.

An Instagram post by the U.S. Palestinian Community Network commenting on the lukewarm changes made in the curriculum [thanks to the work of] Jewish advocacy groups reads, “Zionists have no place in the classroom!”

On June 3, an Egyptian policeman crossed the border into Israel and killed three soldiers. Jonathan Schanzer and Natalie Ecanow urge President Abdel Fattah el-Sisi to respond by visiting the Jewish state as a show of goodwill:

Such a dramatic gesture is not without precedent: in 1997, a Jordanian soldier opened fire on a group of Israeli schoolgirls visiting the “Isle of Peace,” a parcel of farmland previously under Israeli jurisdiction that Jordan leased back to Israel as part of the Oslo peace process. In a remarkable display of humanity, King Hussein of Jordan, who had only three years earlier signed a peace agreement with Israel, traveled to the Jewish state to mourn with the families of the seven girls who died in the massacre.

That massacre unfolded as a diplomatic cold front descended on Jerusalem and Amman. . . . Yet a week later, Hussein flipped the script. “I feel as if I have lost a child of my own,” Hussein lamented. He told the parents of one of the victims that the tragedy “affects us all as members of one family.”

While security cooperation [between Cairo and Jerusalem] remains strong, the bilateral relationship is still rather frosty outside the military domain. True normalization between the two nations is elusive. A survey in 2021 found that only 8 percent of Egyptians support “business or sports contacts” with Israel. With a visit to Israel, Sisi can move beyond the cold pragmatism that largely defines Egyptian-Israeli relations and recast himself as a world figure ready to embrace his diplomatic partners as human beings. At a personal level, the Egyptian leader can win international acclaim for such a move rather than criticism for his country’s poor human-rights record.