Jews in Europe: The Allure of Authoritarianism as Liberalism Falters

The uneasy calculus facing European Jewish communities – weighing the risks of liberal democracies against the contingent security offered by illiberal regimes – is becoming increasingly acute, according to Dr. Dov Maimon, a Senior Fellow at the Jewish People Policy Institute (JPPI). The shift, marked by a willingness among some to engage with far-right political movements, reflects a growing sense that traditional safeguards are failing to protect Jewish life in the face of rising antisemitism.

Maimon, born in Paris and having emigrated to Israel in his youth, reflects on a stark transformation. He recalls a 1970s Paris where Jewish identity was associated with intellectual and cultural prominence, citing figures like Hannah Arendt and Bernard-Henri Lévy. “Being Jewish then was, if anything, enviable,” he writes, recalling a student slogan from the 1968 uprisings – ‘Nous sommes tous des Juifs allemands’ – as an aspiration to carry the weight of critical thought and conscience.

That sense of security, he argues, has eroded. A recent conversation with a colleague returning from Budapest revealed a startling paradox: it is now reportedly safer to openly identify as Jewish in Budapest than in cities like Malmö, Brussels, or Paris. This reality, he acknowledges, is deeply unsettling given the widely criticized authoritarian nature of Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orbán’s government.

Statistics underscore this paradox. While the Anti-Defamation League (ADL) reports a higher percentage of antisemitic views among the general population in Hungary (42%) compared to France (17%), a significantly larger proportion of French Jews (52%) express concern about physical attacks, compared to just 12% in Hungary. The Israeli-Palestinian conflict is a major factor in the sense of insecurity felt by French Jews, affecting nearly three-quarters of the community, while this figure is less than one in ten in Hungary.

The shift is not merely anecdotal. The Israeli government’s recent hosting of representatives from several far-right European parties on January 27, 2026, sparked outrage among Diaspora Jewish communities and Israeli liberals. Maimon acknowledges the validity of much of this criticism, questioning how the Jewish state, founded in the wake of the Holocaust, could engage with movements historically associated with exclusion and ultra-nationalism.

However, he frames this engagement as stemming from a core tenet of Zionism: the recognition that Jewish security cannot be perpetually dependent on the goodwill of others. For two centuries, he notes, Jews have operated under the assumption that liberalism equates to security, a belief that underpinned both emancipation and the Zionist project itself. But this equation, he contends, is no longer reliable in certain contexts.

In France and parts of Northern Europe, antisemitic violence has increased while the experience of protection has diminished. Jewish students face harassment framed as political expression, synagogues require security, and even wearing a kippah can necessitate careful consideration. This is no longer a marginal experience, Maimon argues, but a defining feature of Jewish life in places once considered safe.

A troubling ideological shift is also underway, with antisemitism increasingly reframed as political critique or resistance to power. Jews are often excluded from the category of vulnerable minorities, and the frameworks designed to protect them struggle to recognize them as victims. Maimon highlights a tendency to contextualize, sociologize, and relativize antisemitic acts, often attributing them to broader social or geopolitical factors rather than treating them as criminal violations.

Liberal democracies, he explains, prioritize individual rights – particularly freedom of expression and due process – which impose real constraints on responding to antisemitism. While these safeguards are essential, they can lead to delays, ambiguity, and uneven enforcement, particularly when navigating the boundary between protected speech and unlawful incitement. He points to differing approaches in the U.K. And Germany, where swift action is often taken in cases of unambiguous violence, compared to France, Sweden, and Belgium, where intimidation has become more routine.

The situation is further complicated by a reluctance to directly address the links between some violent antisemitic attacks and Islamist radicalization, driven by concerns about stigmatization and political misuse. Maimon argues that silence is not neutral, and that a lack of consequences emboldens perpetrators and forces Jewish communities to withdraw.

Hungary, while not a philosemitic paradise, offers a contrasting model. Public order is enforced more aggressively, and boundaries are drawn more quickly. Antisemitic violence is treated as a crime, not a phenomenon requiring endless sociological preface. However, Maimon cautions that this protection is contingent on the agenda of the ruling power and could shift under different leadership.

Maimon stresses that the protection offered by illiberal regimes is not based on inherent rights but on a patronage that can be withdrawn at will. He concludes that the choice facing European Jewish communities is a tragic one: between systems that protect contingently and those that struggle to protect consistently. Unless liberal societies reaffirm their commitment to drawing clear lines and enforcing boundaries, more Jews may conclude that contingent protection is preferable to none. This conclusion, he argues, is redrawing the map of Jewish life in the West.