Navigating Rising Antisemitism: The Reality of Jewish Life in Netherlands
Behind official reports, the Jewish community in Netherlands faces growing hostility and polarization since Oct 7. Rising antisemitism, public tensions, and security challenges drive deep concerns about future life in Europe.
Behind the official reports, monitoring committees, and politicians' statements, the Jewish community in Netherlands is currently grappling with a complex and polarized daily reality. While community leaders are preoccupied with heightened security and diplomatic contacts, everyday life plays out in residential apartments, offices, school benches, and neighborhood WhatsApp groups. There, far from the protocols, the gap between dry statistical data and the personal feelings of the individual is exposed.
The Shift in Public Atmosphere
Dov Sabo (53), a real estate broker who has lived in Netherlands for 29 years, strongly feels the shift on the streets. From his perspective, the public atmosphere has become far more exposed and hostile. "Racism and antisemitism simply came out into the open," he describes with pain. "In the past, before October 7, they used to do it delicately; today they just look you in the eyes and hate. Friends attack me over what is happening in Israel and claim we are committing genocide."
According to him, the hostility has begun to bleed into the business world: "I submitted the highest offer for an apartment, but I didn't get it simply because the owners knew I was Jewish. I don't see a future here in two or three years. The moment the legal system discriminates between a Dutchman and a Jew, that will be the moment to leave."
Diverging Perspectives Within the Community
Conversely, Moran Zelikovitch, manager of the largest Facebook group for Israelis in Netherlands and an activist in the "Kol" organization, presents a much more sober and moderate viewpoint. Zelikovitch lives in a city north of Amsterdam and emphasizes that reality is far from black-and-white. "Life here is mostly very quiet, and there isn't the friction you see in Amsterdam," she says.
"The media back home tries to frighten people. It is true there are incidents, such as antisemitic remarks my son endured in school arguments because he takes pride in his Judaism, but we mainly encounter hatred of Israel as a country—signs against discharged soldiers and calls for boycotts—and less classic antisemitism directed at Jews proper."
Zelikovitch also points to demographic comparisons, noting official data from the Central Bureau of Statistics: according to Israel's CBS, by the end of 2025 the Muslim share in the country stood at about 18.6%, while data from Statistics Netherlands (CBS) pointed to about 6% Muslims in 2023 and 7% in 2024 among those aged 15 and over. "Netherlands is in a better shape than its neighbors like France and Germany, and Israel is still in a far more dangerous and complex place," she concludes.
Loneliness and Silent Fear
In the middle is Jessica (58), a mental health support and welfare worker born in Netherlands who did not grow up with a distinct religious education due to her mother being a hidden child during the Holocaust. For her, the fracture manifested as social loneliness and ideological isolation among her Dutch friends. "Shortly after October 2023, a bullet hole was discovered in a window within my social circle," she recounts.
"I experience a new and more subtle antisemitism. A close friend told me I am 'held hostage by Netanyahu' and made me feel silenced. A situation has arisen where if you don't toe the line with the pro-Palestinian stance, you are automatically accused of supporting the murder of children. I was forced to leave demonstrations on general issues because they were hijacked by anti-Israel slogans. I stopped readily saying I am Jewish out of fear, and today I find myself seeking out connections to the Jewish community again—where at least I don't have to explain myself."
Data and Statistics on Antisemitism
These personal experiences of neighborhood and street residents are also reflected in the annual data of CIDI (Center for Information and Documentation on Israel in Netherlands): in 2025, a total of 281 antisemitic incidents were recorded in Netherlands, a decrease compared to 421 incidents in 2024 and 379 in 2023. However, CIDI clarifies that these numbers are significantly higher than the annual average in the decade preceding 2023 (when the figure hovered around 100–180 incidents per year).
The annual decline in reported numbers is explained by CIDI, among other things, as a phenomenon of "reporting fatigue" (meldingsmoeheid), distrust in the system, and loss of hope for effective handling, alongside a growing avoidance by Jews of carrying identifiable markers in the public sphere.
The category of direct physical and verbal incidents ("Real Life") recorded 57 cases in 2025, including 43 cases of curses and insults, four physical violence events, three direct threats, and seven telephone incidents. The field of vandalism and defacement recorded 45 cases in 2025, which included damage to Holocaust monuments, desecration of cemeteries, uprooting of mezuzot, and the spraying of hate graffiti.
In the public arena, a sharp rise was recorded in antisemitic events during demonstrations—from a single event in 2024 to eight documented events in 2025, which included the use of distorted imagery, Nazi symbols, and comparisons of the war in Gaza to the Holocaust.
According to Dutch police data, approximately 867 events with an antisemitic nature were recorded in 2025. The Public Prosecution Service (OM) report noted that 26% of all discrimination cases opened dealt with antisemitism—an entirely exceptional rate considering that the Jewish population constitutes only about 0.3% of the country's total residents.
Leadership Perspective and Security
Looking at the developments from a leadership standpoint is Chris Den Hoedt, chairman of the Jewish community in Rotterdam, who paints a bleak picture of daily erosion and physical escalation. "This year alone, a massive incendiary device was placed at our synagogue, an attack backed by organizations funded by Iran," he shares.
Weeks later, the city's Holocaust memorial ceremony—marking the mass deportation from the 'Loods 24' station in July 1942—was violently disrupted by pro-Palestinian protesters because the Israeli ambassador spoke at the venue. "It is incomprehensible that a Holocaust memorial ceremony is disrupted. There is a feeling that antisemitism has become somewhat 'acceptable.' People say it's terrible, but when it happens—they simply shrug their shoulders."
Den Hoedt warns that beyond the incidents themselves, the public atmosphere is steadily shrinking: "It pushes you once again to hide your identity. An entire generation has been educated over the past three years on the basis of propaganda that has become the norm, and changing this perception is almost impossible. For a secular Jew disconnected from the community, the impact might be marginal, but for someone who wants to live a communal Jewish life and is proud of their connection to Israel—it's a whole different game. In the long run, the future of those who want Jewish life may no longer be in Netherlands or Europe."
Although Den Hoedt maintains close ties with city mayors and the police—who provide increasingly heavy security, ranging from blast-proof doors to military police—he severely criticizes the political echelon: "The role of politicians is not to build us thicker walls, but to ensure we don't need them in the first place. Instead of five minutes of expressing empathy after an attack and then returning to routine, real legislation is required. In Netherlands, supporting local terrorism is still permitted and carries no legal punishment. The judicial system and biased media generate a dangerous political drift, as we also saw at The Hague tribunal."
To the Israeli public, he wishes to convey a sober message: "Anyone who thinks Netherlands remains the same friendly country, and that one can walk around Amsterdam freely and with open Israeli pride—must understand that there is a real risk today. The public sentiment has changed."
The Jewish mosaic in Netherlands is not monolithic. Alongside voices warning of irreversible deterioration and the loss of safe space, there are those seeking to separate sharp political criticism from the daily routine of citizens. But one thing is clear: for the average Jew on the streets of Netherlands, preserving identity and personal space currently requires resilience and quiet coping that are not measured merely by graphs.
