At a recent meeting of the US Commission on Human Rights, the signs of atheism that has plagued college campuses were on full display. It was the commission’s first hearing on anti-Semitism in nearly two decades—and testimony during the briefing and public comment period made it clear that the issue can no longer be treated as a one-off or isolated issue.
One student at the University of California, Santa Barbara, described men shouting obscenities outside his Jewish house, prompting him to remove recognizable signs from the building out of fear. In the following weeks, eggs were thrown at the fraternity house, and one member reported that his Star of David pendant was removed from his neck.
One Harvard University student testified that within days of arriving at school, he placed a mezuzah on the doorpost of his dorm room—only to find it torn.
A student from California Polytechnic State University, San Luis Obispo, described how masked protesters disrupted the post-Oct. 7 event organized by the Jewish community and chanted slogans understood as calls for violence against Jews—reportedly involving a member of the faculty.
If these are events from official evidence and reports, it is not difficult to imagine what small antisemitic and microaggressions can be reported on campuses every day.
These incidents, and others like them, need to be fully investigated by the congress. A recent report from the House Education and Labor Committee highlighted the urgency of addressing college campuses. Some universities have begun to take it more seriously—a welcome change.
But new data from the Anti-Defamation League suggests a more complicated picture. Focusing only on high-profile events risks the deeper forces shaping the campus climate—namely, increasingly hostile attitudes toward Jews and the proliferation of antisemitic drugs.
After campus camping after October 7, 2023, universities are better at responding. But their interventions are still too small to deal with the attitudes that allow such incidents to take root.
A survey of more than 1,000 non-Jewish college students reveals why this gap is significant. Nearly half (48.3 percent) reported witnessing or experiencing anti-Semitic behavior on campus (including digital spaces) in the past year. About 48 percent endorsed at least one anti-Semitic attitude, and nearly one in five (19.2 percent) endorsed three or more anti-Semitic attitudes.
Of the six attitudes examined, the most common belief was that “Jews use anti-Semitism to silence criticism of Israel,” endorsed by more than one-third of non-Jewish student respondents (34.1 percent), followed by “Jews are more loyal to Israel than to America” (endorsed by 27.6 percent of American Jews today who have the most power to respond to Jews” (201). percent), “Jews more willing than others to use dirty practices to get what they want” (15.5 percent), “Jews only care about themselves” (13 percent) and, finally, “It is OK to blame American Jews for what Israel is doing” (5.2 percent).
As we note in the survey report, the findings, taken together, suggest that these “problematic beliefs are widespread enough to have a significant impact on campus conversations.”
At the same time, only 5.3 percent of respondents reported that they had received training on antisemitism. That gap should affect every university president.
When 1 in 20 students are taught how to respond to an anti-Semitic incident, campuses are not building the skills needed to prevent it. In many areas of institutional risk—from sexual misconduct to alcohol abuse—universities do not assume that students will simply notice; they create shared expectations and skills through basic education. Antisemitism remains rare.
The issue is not indifference. Many campus leaders have strengthened reporting systems and disciplinary procedures. At the same time, the findings of a recent report by the House Education and Labor Committee point to persistent challenges, including concerns about faculty- and student-run anti-faith groups.
Prevention requires a community-wide strategy that vindicates students against anti-Semitism and equips them to act as superiors. Without that foundation, the events conveyed in the Human Rights Commission’s briefing and in the committee’s report may represent the tip of the iceberg, and today’s tensions are allowed to harden into tomorrow’s chronic problems.
However, the 2026 ADL Campus Antisemitism Report Card offers cautious reasons for optimism. More institutions are beginning to speak clearly, implement policies consistently and take campus concerns seriously.
Consider Temple University, which went from a C to an A after revising its Code of Student Conduct and anti-discrimination policies to explicitly prohibit discrimination and anti-Israel discrimination and classify covert harassment as misconduct. Administrators publicly acknowledged the need for these changes and communicated them to the campus community. That kind of progress needs to be recognized—and shows what can happen when universities act with clarity and urgency.
But not all institutions have followed this example. Universities exist, at their core, to teach. If the attitudes documented in this new data are ignored, campuses will remain stuck in an active cycle.
That means moving education about antisemitism from the fringes to the center of campus life. Training should be mandatory, repeated and embedded in a campus-wide program—equip students to recognize antisemitism and respond appropriately.
It also requires visible leadership. Students take cues from what institutions consistently emphasize, not just what they criticize in difficult situations. Investing in long-term, tangible education signals that preventing antisemitism is part of the university’s mission, not just a compliance function.
Universities have made important strides in tackling superstition. The question now is whether they will use their great institutional power—education—early enough to prevent the next incident of dissent.
