According to recent polls, Jews in the U.S. are becoming increasingly alarmed about the numerous hostile currents in public life—and with good reason. Nevertheless, writes Gil Troy, America, although it is far from immune to anti-Semitism, has never succumbed to it the way European and Middle Eastern countries have at various points in their history. He takes as an example one of the lowest moments in American Jewish history: General U.S. Grant’s order, in the midst of the Civil War, to expel the Jews from Tennessee—an order swiftly overridden by President Lincoln:

As president, Grant repented for what his wife Julia called “that obnoxious order.” He appointed Jews to public office. He attended the dedication of the Adas Israel [synagogue in Washington, DC], becoming the first president to attend a synagogue service—heroically sitting through the entire three-hour ceremony. Grant also stood up for oppressed Jews in Russia and Romania. “Paradoxically,” the historian Jonathan Sarna argues, Grant’s “order expelling the Jews set the stage for their empowerment. . . . In America, hatred can be overcome.”

Far more Jews today learn about Henry Ford’s anti-Jewish rantings, than about Aaron Sapiro, who sued the automaker for spreading anti-Semitic libel. Embarrassed and eventually forced to apologize, Ford shuttered his hate-spewing Dearborn Independent in 1927. Also overlooked is how Ford’s grandson “Hank the Deuce,” shipped auto parts to Israel, donated generously to Israel, and even established a Ford assembly plant there.

To Troy, these examples suggest a general pattern, whereby anti-Semitism raises its head, and is then beaten back into the gutters. The current challenge, he argues, is that American Jews by and large are confident in combating hostility when it comes from the far right, but much less so when it comes from other quarters:

Fighting Islamist anti-Semitism is harder for American Jews. Many fear being tagged as Islamophobic. The anti-Semitism of the left, centered on American campuses, but now finding a welcoming home on the margins of the Democratic party and in many intellectual circles, further confuses. Stemming from a two-centuries-long addiction some leftists and Marxists have had to anti-Semitism, this Jew-hatred hides behind a critique of Israel and support for the Palestinian cause. Over the last 40 years, empowered by identity politics and the passions stirred by the Middle East impasse, these Jew-haters have turned increasingly self-righteous.

It is increasingly unfashionable to talk about American exceptionalism. And it is easy to lose one’s sense of proportion. [But] the indignant, democratic fury that presidents, politicians, and the people express whenever anti-Semitism turns dramatically violent all suggest that while far from perfect, America still remains an exceptional nation.

Even if the agreement with Hamas to secure the release of some, and possibly all, of the remaining hostages—and the bodies of those no longer alive—is a prudent decision for Israel, it comes at a very high price: potentially leaving Hamas in control of Gaza and the release of vast numbers of Palestinian prisoners, many with blood on their hands. Nadav Shragai reminds us of the history of such agreements:

We cannot forget that the terrorists released in the Jibril deal during the summer of 1985 became the backbone of the first intifada, resulting in the murder of 165 Israelis. Approximately half of the terrorists released following the Oslo Accords joined Palestinian terror groups, with many participating in the second intifada that claimed 1,178 Israeli lives. Those freed in [exchange for Gilad Shalit in 2011] constructed Gaza, the world’s largest terror city, and brought about the October 7 massacre. We must ask ourselves: where will those released in the 2025 hostage deal lead us?

Taking these painful concessions into account Michael Oren argues that they might nonetheless be necessary:

From day one—October 7, 2023—Israel’s twin goals in Gaza were fundamentally irreconcilable. Israel could not, as its leaders pledged, simultaneously destroy Hamas and secure all of the hostages’ release. The terrorists who regarded the hostages as the key to their survival would hardly give them up for less than an Israeli commitment to end—and therefore lose—the war. Israelis, for their part, were torn between those who felt that they could not send their children to the army so long as hostages remained in captivity and those who held that, if Hamas wins, Israel will not have an army at all.

While 33 hostages will be released in the first stage, dozens—alive and dead—will remain in Gaza, prolonging their families’ suffering. The relatives of those killed by the Palestinian terrorists now going free will also be shattered. So, too, will the Israelis who still see soldiers dying in Gaza almost daily while Hamas rocket fire continues. What were all of Israel’s sacrifices for, they will ask. . . .

Perhaps this outcome was unavoidable from the beginning. Perhaps the deal is the only way of reconciling Israel’s mutually exclusive goals of annihilating Hamas and repatriating the hostages. Perhaps, despite Israel’s subsequent military triumph, this is the price for the failures of October 7.