After the Shooting in D.C. We Must Stand in Solidarity Against Hate

On Wednesday night in Washington, D.C., two young staffers from the Israeli embassy, Yaron Lischinsky and Sarah Milgrim, were shot and killed after leaving a Jewish community event. Witnesses say the attacker shouted “Free Palestine” before opening fire. He reportedly said, “I did it for Gaza.”

This was a targeted antisemitic attack. And tragically, this is not an isolated incident.

Since the October 7 massacre in Israel, antisemitism has surged with renewed intensity across North America. It’s showing up on campuses, in protests, on social media—and now, in the streets of the U.S. capital. Perhaps most alarming is the growing ease with which it is tolerated, rationalized, or ignored.

There is a long and painful history of antisemitism being treated as an afterthought—even in spaces devoted to human rights and justice. But this form of hate is not just persistent—it’s shape-shifting, virulent, and, as we’ve seen, increasingly violent.

Over the years, my work in human rights—particularly through the Raoul Wallenberg Centre—has shown me how hate, left unchecked, mutates and spreads. In various board and leadership roles, I’ve worked to help build coalitions that advance a united front against systemic racism, antisemitism, islamophobia, and other forms of hate. But make no mistake: antisemitism today demands urgent, focused attention.

That’s why building meaningful alliances is not just important—it’s essential. Efforts like Van Jones’ Exodus coalition, which brings Black and Jewish leaders together to confront rising hate and promote mutual understanding, offer a blueprint for the kind of solidarity this moment demands. These coalitions don’t dilute the unique dangers faced by each group—they strengthen our collective resolve to confront them all.

Yes, we can care about Palestinian rights and still denounce antisemitism unequivocally. But doing so requires empathy. And it requires the courage to speak with clarity—especially when it’s inconvenient or unpopular.

The victims in Washington were not symbols. They were real people, with families and futures. Their deaths must not be just another headline. Let them be a wake-up call.

This is not the time for silence. It is time for clarity. And above all, it’s a time for courage.

Let’s honor those we’ve lost not just with grief—but with action. Let’s stand together—firmly, unapologetically—against the ancient hatred that has once again shown its deadly face.