It has become one of the most tedious yet telling deflections in discussions of antisemitism:
“Arabs are Semites too.”
With this one-liner, otherwise intelligent people attempt to shut down debate, dismiss the legitimacy of Jewish concerns, and reframe antisemitism as a linguistic misunderstanding rather than the deadly prejudice it truly is.
Let us be unequivocal: this response is not an innocent observation. It is a calculated diversion.
And it is time we dismantle it thoroughly.
A Historical Term with a Specific Meaning
The term “antisemitism” was never meant to describe hostility to all Semitic peoples. It was coined in 1879 by German journalist Wilhelm Marr, who was promoting what he considered a new, modern, and racialised form of anti-Jewish hatred—distinct from older religious or cultural biases.
Marr and others sought to move Jew-hatred from theological opposition into the realm of race science. This new branding—Antisemitismus—was meant to sound scientific and enlightened. But it was, in essence, the same hatred Jews had experienced for centuries, now wrapped in pseudo-academic respectability. It had nothing to do with Arabs, Ethiopians, or Assyrians, all of whom speak or spoke Semitic languages. The target was, and remains, the Jewish people.
The fact that Hebrew and Arabic are both Semitic languages is utterly irrelevant to the term as it is actually used. To argue otherwise is like claiming that the term “apartheid” only applies if Afrikaners are involved, or that “Islamophobia” must include hatred of all Abrahamic religions because they share common roots. It is a deliberate misuse of language intended to blur moral clarity and deny Jewish people the right to define and name their own oppression.
A Tool to Excuse Hatred
Why is this fallacy so popular? Because it is useful. It enables anti-Israel activists, conspiracy theorists, and extremists to indulge antisemitic tropes—often openly—while claiming plausible deniability.
When a protester holds a sign that says “Zionists = Nazis,” or someone claims “Jews control the media,” or a Jewish student is harassed for refusing to renounce Israel, critics are quick to say: “This isn’t antisemitism. I’m a Semite too.”
This cynical maneuver does two things:
- It shields the perpetrator from accountability, and
- It gaslights the victim into questioning whether their experience of hatred is even real.
And it’s not limited to individuals. This tactic has infected academia, civil society, and even mainstream media. University administrators hesitate to discipline students calling for intifada against “Zionists,” because someone might insist it’s a political—not racial—issue. Journalists cover antisemitic violence with euphemisms, lest they be accused of ignoring the broader “Semitic” context.
Real-World Consequences
This linguistic jujitsu has profound implications. In 2024 alone, Jews around the world were violently attacked, synagogues defaced, businesses boycotted, and children harassed—often under the banner of anti-Zionism. And yet, when Jewish communities speak out, they are met with that tired refrain: “But Arabs are Semites too.”
This deflection plays directly into the hands of those who wish to erase or rewrite Jewish history. It feeds the false narrative that Jews are not indigenous to the Middle East, not an ethnic people, and not victims of discrimination—because to acknowledge any of that would require grappling with the uncomfortable persistence of antisemitism in supposedly enlightened societies.
And make no mistake—New Zealand is not immune. We see it on our campuses, in letters to the editor, in city council debates, and even in foreign policy statements that obsess over Israel while ignoring atrocities elsewhere. The same people who claim to oppose all forms of racism are often conspicuously silent when it comes to antisemitism—or worse, they actively participate in its erasure.
Clarity is Not Optional
The IHRA Working Definition of Antisemitism, adopted by dozens of democratic countries and supported by major Jewish communities worldwide, defines antisemitism as “a certain perception of Jews, which may be expressed as hatred toward Jews.” It explicitly notes that manifestations often include demonising Israel in ways that go beyond legitimate criticism—especially when the Jewish state is held to double standards, denied the right to exist, or blamed collectively for world events.
Attempts to redefine antisemitism by invoking linguistic trivia are not about accuracy. They are about denial.
We must stop tolerating these bad-faith arguments. We would not allow people to redefine “misogyny” by pointing out that men can be victims too. We do not permit people to mock Islamophobia by reminding us that “phobia” is a medical term. We understand these to be rhetorical dodges, not good-faith contributions.
So why do we allow the same when it comes to Jews?
Time for Moral Courage
In a world where antisemitism is rising rapidly, and where Jewish communities feel increasingly unsafe in the very countries they have helped build, we do not have the luxury of indulging semantic games. We need moral clarity, not muddled relativism.
Antisemitism is real. It is specific. And it is deadly.
To those who still parrot the “Arabs are Semites too” line: enough. This is not an exercise in etymology. It is a fight for truth, for justice, and for the safety of a people too long targeted by those who wield words like weapons.
Let’s be clear, honest, and brave enough to call antisemitism by its real name—and to confront it with the seriousness it demands.
