Hatred Across Oceans
- Beki Lantos
- Jan 20
- 6 min read
As I was growing up, I learned and heard quite a lot about World War II. My grandfather was a bomber pilot, though sadly I don’t remember meeting him as he died when I was very young. Furthermore, my father has been borderline obsessed with the events of that war my entire life. He encouraged me to learn about it, even sitting with me at 12 or 13 to watch “Schindler’s List” together so he could answer any questions I might have. I couldn’t believe what I was taking in. How could such travesties and horrors occur at the hands of humans to other humans? It was another time. Another era. Like a terrible tragedy you read about in fantasy books only we didn’t have one hero to come through and save the day - we had hundreds of thousands. But the hatred… I never imagined I’d witness that same kind of hatred in my life, let alone in my own country.

Over the past year, I’ve been horrified to see antisemitism rear its head in ways that feel both unthinkable and undeniable. Canada, known for its diversity and inclusivity, now faces a wave of hate that has no place here - or anywhere really. And I can’t help but wonder: Why have we let such hatred cross oceans and find a home among us?
This isn’t just a problem of distant lands or faceless ideologies. It’s here. It’s real. And it’s terrifying.
To understand the present, we must first remember the past. The Jewish connection to the land of Israel stretches back over 3,000 years, rooted in a history of resilience and survival. From the reign of King David to the building of the Second Temple, Israel has been central to Jewish Identity.
In 1948, the modern state of Israel was born out of the ashes of the Holocaust - a genocide that claimed over six million Jewish lives. This was not the first time the Jewish people faced annihilation, but it was the most systemic and industrialized attempt in history. The creation of Israel was meant to provide a sanctuary, a promise that never again would the Jewish people face destruction without a homeland to defend themselves.
Yet, threats to Israel’s existence have never ceased. Groups like Hamas and Hezbollah openly call for the destruction of the Jewish state and the eradication of all its people. Their ideologies are not merely political - they are rooted in a deep-seated hatred for Jewish people, one that fuels violence and terror.
You might think that such hatred is confined to war zones or the rhetoric of distant extremists. But the truth is, it’s here. In the past year alone, Canada has seen a surge in antisemitic incidents, from graffiti on synagogues to physical attacks on Jewish communities. In Montreal, two Jewish schools were targeted by gunfire - a chilling reminder that words of hate can quickly become acts of violence.
Statistics tell part of the story. Antisemitic incidents in Canada rose by 62% in Vancouver and by an astonishing 250% in Montreal after October 2023. Each statistic represents real people - families, children, and elders - living in fear because of their faith and heritage. And these are the ones that are reported.
How did we let this happen? How did hatred seep across oceans and into our homes?
I think one of the things that confused and upset me the most about the Holocaust was the silence from the German (and a lot of European) people. Even before that, neighbors turned against neighbors, becoming informants to the Nazi’s on Jews that were in earlier times their friends, their co-workers, and even providers of services and aid.
I quickly learned that hate thrives in silence. History has shown us this time and again. In Nazi Germany, antisemitism wasn’t born overnight. It grew quietly, festering in small acts of exclusion and prejudice until it erupted into genocide.
We cannot make the same mistake. We cannot afford to turn a blind eye to swastikas on walls or slurs on the streets. Complacency is complicity. If we fail to speak out, we are telling the world that this hatred is acceptable - that it has a place here.

But it doesn’t. Not in my home. Not in yours.
But what can we do? The problem feels so vast, but change begins with small intentional actions.
Educate yourself - learn The history of antisemitism, the Holocaust, and the founding of Israel. Knowledge is a powerful antidote to ignorance.
Speak Out - when you see antisemitism - whether online, in your community, or in conversation - call it out. Silence is not an option.
Support your Jewish Neighbors - Stand in solidarity. Attend events, donate to causes that combat hate, and show up for those who are targeted.
Advocate for Stronger Laws - Push for policies that hatred is never acceptable. They are watching us, learning from what we do - and what we don’t do.
Don’t just look for someone else to blame. Yes, the Middle East conflicts, such as the ongoing Israeli-Palestinian conflict, often lead to increased tensions worldwide. Some groups conflate political criticism of Israel with hatred toward Jewish people, resulting in antisemitic incidents. If you’re Pro-Palestine, but Anti-Hamas, not Anti-Israel, make it clear.

Yes, social media amplification polarizes narratives, allowing hate speech and misinformation to spread rapidly, fueling antisemitism globally and locally.
Yes, groups like Hamas and Hezbollah promote ideologies that explicitly call for the eradication of Israel and, by extension, Jewish people. Their rhetoric can inspire individuals and groups far beyond the Middle East.

Yes, far-right and far-left movements can contribute. Far-right groups perpetuate the traditional antisemitic tropes, while certain far-left factions engage in antisemitism disguised as anti-Zionism.

Yes, our politicians and public figures exploit divisive issues for political gain, failing to condemn antisemitism outright, placating these groups, or using language that emboldens hate groups in case it offends certain groups, afraid of losing their votes. Ambiguous or inconsistent stances on hate crimes can create an environment where antisemitism is not adequately addressed or acknowledged and stopped.
Yes, lack of education about Jewish history, the Holocaust, and antisemitism leads to ignorance. This vacuum allows for harmful stereotypes and conspiracy theories to take root. Conspiracy theories, such as the “global Jewish cabal” myth (the idea that Jewish people secretly control global institutions, governments, economies, and media to further their own power and influence), continue to circulate, often gaining traction during times of economic or social instability.
Yes, diversity without integration. Canada’s multicultural society is one of its strengths, but it can also lead to tensions if different communities don’t fully integrate or understand one another. That doesn’t mean immigrants need to lose their whole identity, it means sharing it with us, while also learning ours. Protests and movements tied to global events, such as Pro-Palestinian demonstrations, can sometimes attract extremists who exploit the cause to promote antisemitism. So again I say, if you’re Pro-Palestine, but Anti-Hamas, not Anti-Israel, make it clear.
With all of those collective arguments for who’s to blame, the truth is, no single group, event, or ideology is solely to blame. The rise in antisemitism is the result of intersecting global and local factors, including extremist rhetoric, political complacency, ignorance, and the amplification of hate speech online.
Addressing the issue requires action on multiple fronts: stronger laws against hate crimes, education to combat ignorance, and collective societal effort to stand against hate in all its forms. And I grew up believing that’s what Canada was about. Was I just young and naive? Believing in a myth or legend? Was it all a facade? Have I just grown up and finally seen the truth? Are we really no better than other countries breeding, and yet suffering, from division and hate?
Despite the fear and disgust I feel, somehow, I also feel hope. Hope that we can come together as a nation to say, enough is enough. Hope that kindness and understanding will overpower hatred.
But hope alone isn’t enough. We have a responsibility to act, to ensure that Canada remains a place where everyone can live free from fear. Hatred should have no home here - not in our streets, not in our hearts, and certainly not in our silence.
So I ask you: Will you join me in standing against this tide of hate? Will you help ensure that when the history books look back on this moment, they will tell a story of courage, compassion, and unity?
Because that is the Canada I want to live in. And I believe it’s the Canada we can be. It’s the Canada I always believed we were.

Ⓒ January 2025. Beki Lantos. All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, or transmitted in any form by any means without prior written permission of the author.
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