The Selective Shout: How Good People Are Led by Antisemites

Imagine this.

You’re walking past a small shop when you hear someone shout, “Thief!” at a customer leaving the door. Naturally, you assume the person being shouted at has done something wrong — stealing is bad, after all. You might even admire the shopkeeper for calling them out.

The next day, it happens again. Another “Thief!” Another accused customer. And then again the next day. It begins to seem like theft is rampant, that the shopkeeper is courageously standing up for honesty. A protest forms against stealing, and you might feel compelled to join it — because standing against theft is obviously the moral thing to do.

But then, one day, you notice something. Someone actually does steal from the shop — and this time, the shopkeeper says nothing. You watch more carefully and realize: the only people ever called “thief” are Black shoppers.

Suddenly, the moral picture flips. The protest you thought was about honesty isn’t about theft at all — it’s about hate. The shouting wasn’t a stand for integrity; it was an expression of racism, disguised as virtue.

The Same Pattern — With Israel

This is how many otherwise decent people find themselves standing in movements that are, often unwittingly, fueled by antisemitism. They start with empathy, outrage, and a sense of moral duty. They see suffering, oppression, and power imbalance, and they react — as good people should.

But when that outrage is selective, when it always and only targets the world’s one Jewish state — while ignoring or excusing far greater violence elsewhere — something deeper is at play. The shouting may sound like “justice,” but the pattern reveals prejudice.

Antisemitism, like the racist shopkeeper, hides behind moral language. It shouts “thief!” again and again, but only at one kind of person.

The Deceptive Moral Frame

In our hyper-connected world, it’s easy to be swept up by causes that appear self-evidently righteous. Social media amplifies emotion, simplifies complex histories, and rewards outrage. Phrases like “Free Palestine” or “End Apartheid” sound humane and just — and in some contexts, they are.

But antisemitic voices have long learned to exploit this. They know that moral movements carry legitimacy. So they attach their hatred to the language of justice: “human rights,” “decolonization,” “liberation.”

The result is that ordinary, compassionate people begin to carry ideas that didn’t originate in empathy at all, but in the old, enduring belief that Jews — uniquely among nations — are illegitimate, malevolent, or deserving of erasure.

The Trap of Moral Certainty

The hardest prejudice to detect is the kind that flatters our conscience. When people believe they are fighting evil, it becomes almost impossible to consider that they might themselves be serving it.

Antisemitism thrives in that moral blind spot. It convinces people that hating Israel is not hatred — it’s righteousness. That shouting “thief!” isn’t discrimination — it’s courage. And before long, good people find themselves chanting alongside those who don’t seek peace, but the destruction of a people.

Moral Clarity vs. Moral Consistency

True moral clarity doesn’t mean ignoring Palestinian suffering. It means rejecting any worldview that demands the moral condemnation of one people alone. It means caring about injustice everywhere, not just where an ancient prejudice tells us to.

It is entirely possible — and indeed necessary — to grieve for Palestinian civilians while still recognizing the legitimacy of Israel’s existence, the right of Jews to self-determination, and the danger of movements that deny those rights.

The difference lies in consistency. The moment outrage becomes selective — when it sees evil only in Jews, only in Israel — it ceases to be moral. It becomes the old hatred in a new disguise.

The Courage to Step Back

When you notice that the person shouting “thief” only ever shouts at one group, you have a choice. You can keep joining the crowd, telling yourself you’re doing good — or you can step back, look closer, and see the pattern for what it is.

That same moral courage is needed now. To stand for true justice — one that includes Jews as well as Palestinians, one that condemns hatred wherever it hides — is harder than joining the chorus. But it’s also the only way to ensure that righteousness doesn’t become another mask for hate.