Amsterdam.
A picture-perfect canal city with red brick houses. The self-proclaimed bastion of arts, freedom, tolerance and inclusivity.
Yet, the last weekend the Dutch capital made it to the headlines for something entirely different: a violent ambush on Israeli soccer fans after Maccabi Tel Aviv played against Ajax Amsterdam. Though police chiefs stated that they were prepared for the game and more than 800 police officers were on duty that evening, it didn’t look that way.
Attacked by mobs wielding cubs, knives and unchecked rage, Israeli supporters experienced the underbelly of Europe’s supposedly tolerant society.
After the game, as Israeli fans searched for taxis, they were reportedly denied by drivers who had no qualms about leaving them stranded, vulnerable to further attacks.
It wasn’t merely rowdy soccer hooliganism. It was antisemitism, straight-up.
Israeli officials and fans were appalled, with many calling the scene a ‘pogrom’.
The mayor of Amsterdam, Femke Halsema described an “outburst” of antisemitism with “hit and run” attacks on the visiting supporters, “Men on scooters crisscrossed the city looking for Israeli football fans. It was a hit and run. I can easily understand that this brings back memories of pogroms”.
Dutch Jewish communities are on edge, Israeli visitors are wary, and the silence – or muted responses, at best – of the government leaves many feeling abandoned. The police initially detained 62 people, but most were released in a couple of hours. In an effort to curb violence, Mayor Halsema had banned demonstrations near the stadium.
Amsterdam is just the latest step in a troubling pattern spreading across Western European capitals.
Paris, Berlin, London—each has witnessed its own surge in antisemitic incidents, whether they’re graffiti on Jewish monuments, targeted harassment, or outright violence.
In France, for instance, antisemitic incidents surged after recent conflicts in Gaza, with attacks on synagogues and Jewish-owned shops, while Jewish schools were forced to implement heightened security.
For all the fanfare about championing diversity and tolerance, the actual track record of Western Europe’s liberal democracies for protecting Jewish communities seems increasingly weak. Leaders across France, Germany, and the Netherlands rely on issuing variously worded condemnations every time antisemitism’s ugly head pops up somewhere, but words often prove to be cheap.
Ironically, the policies that Europe’s liberal democracies hold up as pillars of openness are often turned against them. While Western Europe battles with incidents of antisemitism in its own streets, leaders find themselves walking a tightrope—trying to appease various political factions while keeping a handle on escalating violence against Jews and Israelis. Given the sheer numbers of mainly Muslim immigrants and their low levels of integration into society, police and politicians are both unsure how to keep public order in situations like this.
For example, in Amsterdam, police hesitated to intervene decisively in fear of further inflaming tensions; in London and Berlin, political leaders are accused of turning a blind eye to antisemitic sentiments that are masked as “criticism of Israel.” This passivity does little to assure Jewish residents and visitors that they’re safe.
Ironically, the most reliable host for Israel’s national soccer team is the EU’s enfant terrible: “far-right” and “nationalist” Hungary, where Prime Minister Viktor Orbán made it clear that “antisemitism was unwelcome” in the country.
Budapest has become the “safest environment in Europe” for Israel’s fans. No wonder that the Israeli national soccer team has primarily played its “home” matches in Budapest, due to escalating security concerns elsewhere. Just to give one example, the ongoing conflict between Israel and Hamas has led UEFA to relocate Israel’s home games for the Euro 2024 qualifiers to Hungary.
It’s not just about games, though.
For Orbán, antisemitism is a red line, and his alliance with Netanyahu underscores this stance. Hungarian Jewish communities, while aware of Hungary’s own internal issues, have not been subject to the same degree of visible violence as in other countries.
Hungary is not without its shortcomings, but it’s hard to deny that the government’s policies on antisemitism are direct, decisive, and – most importantly – effective. Hungary’s stance, considered overly authoritarian by some, has undeniably made Budapest a rare European capital where Jewish communities and Israeli visitors feel safe.
Critics might say that Hungary’s approach is one of selective tolerance, motivated more by political alliances than ideological purity. But for the Israeli fans attacked in Amsterdam, or the Parisian Jews watching the latest antisemitic protests, Hungary’s approach is less about ideology and more about practical safety.
In the end, the recent attacks in Amsterdam underscore a deep irony.
Western European leaders, who wear the cloak of tolerance and liberalism, are increasingly unable to protect their Jewish communities from rising antisemitic violence. Meanwhile, Hungary, often labelled “intolerant” by Brussels, is stepping up as a safe harbor for those same communities.
