Defining antisemitism is no threat to free speech. Without a definition, we are adrift

The International Holocaust Remembrance  Alliance’s working definition of antisemitism was adopted in 2016 as an educational and data-collection tool. It is deliberately non-legally binding and begins with a clear, universal sentence: “Antisemitism is a certain perception of Jews, which may be expressed as hatred toward Jews.”

Thirty-plus democratic governments, the European Parliament, the UN secretary-general, and tech giants such as Meta, have endorsed or incorporated the definition. Australia’s special envoy to combat antisemitism, Jillian Segal, grounded her national plan released this month in the same wording, citing a 316 per cent surge in antisemitic incidents.

Special envoy to combat antisemitism Jillian Segal.Credit: Dylan Coker

All 39 Australian universities have endorsed or adopted a similar version to the IHRA definition. The universities do not include some of the IHRA’s specific examples of antisemitism but do refer directly to criticism of Zionism as potentially being antisemitic, unlike the IHRA definition, which does not mention Zionism.

The definition has become the world standard because it provides 11 practical illustrations that police, teachers and human rights watchdogs can map onto real-world cases – swastikas on playgrounds, synagogue bomb threats, or, yes, demonisation of Israel when it slips into Nazi analogies.

Since Segal released her plan, there have been several recurring objections:

1. “It chills free speech.” Amnesty International warns the plan “threatens people’s rights to freedom of expression and assembly”.
2. “It stifles criticism of the Israeli government.” Labor MP Ed  Husic has said the “definition instantly brings into question whether or not people will be able to raise their concerns of the actions, for example, of what the Netanyahu government is doing in Gaza.”
3. “It will be weaponised to defund universities and media.” Headlines warn of an “inappropriate definition” used to strip funding from institutions.
4. “Weaponising antisemitism insists on the exceptionalism of the Jewish community”. Some argue that the “Jewish establishment” is insidious in using antisemitism for nefarious ends.

At first blush, these arguments sound like principled liberal concerns. Probe a little and they dissolve into a curious double standard that leaves every minority except Jews entitled to define the hatred they face.

Why the “free speech” objection misfires is because the IHRA definition is diagnostic, not punitive. The document itself states it is “non-legally binding.” No one is jailed for foot-faulting it.

While the special envoy has called for punitive action if patterned institutional antisemitism is not dealt with, the IHRA definition itself does not demand sanction. It is a working guide to what anti-Jewish racism looks like.

Robust debate is explicitly protected. The IHRA definition states: “Criticism of Israel similar to that levelled against any other country cannot be regarded as antisemitic.” The very sentence critics ignore is the one that answers them.

Those waving the banner of civil liberties are in practice demanding an exception that would leave anti-Jewish bigotry undefined and unmeasurable. That is not free speech; it is a gag order on the Jewish right to define our own oppression.

The universities’ definition does not declare that all anti-Zionism is antisemitic. It says some manifestations may be, especially when they deny Jews the right to any self-determination (“Israel is a racist endeavour”), apply Nazi analogies to Israeli policy, or hold all Jews collectively responsible for actions of Israel.

Each of those examples is lifted from anti-racism jurisprudence used for other minorities: denying Kurds a homeland, blaming all Muslims for 9/11. Critics who are comfortable with those standards suddenly claim panic when Jews invoke identical logic.

The universities’ definition does no more than recognise that anti-Zionism may or may not be antisemitic; no more no less. Context is the key.

Context is also why Segal’s plan proposes funding consequences for patterned, institutional failures like the months-long “Gaza encampment” at the University of Sydney allowing intimidation and threats to Jewish students to run for weeks on end, accompanied by calls for the “eradication of Israel”. A NSW parliamentary inquiry found a “hostile environment” for Jewish students. Senior management’s repeated unwillingness to enforce its own anti-racism code was found to be a systemic failure of duty of care.

Bricks through synagogue windows, the burning down of a synagogue, the attempted burning down of another and the firebombing of a Jewish childcare centre are all telling us about the lived experience of Australia’s Jews.

None of those victims was an Israel Defence Forces general. The attackers do not ask whether you support a two-state solution; they ask whether you are a Jew. IHRA’s examples (e.g. holding Jews collectively responsible for Israel) map precisely onto these assaults.

The IHRA working definition is a lighthouse, not a bludgeon. It illuminates the reefs where classical Jew-hatred mutates into 21st-century forms – whether on Telegram channels or university lawns – so that democratic societies can navigate safely between the Scylla of censorship and the Charybdis of bigotry.

Discarding that lighthouse would not emancipate debate; it would leave us adrift, steering by folklore and gut feeling while antisemitism charts its own relentless course.

Progressives who truly cherish free inquiry should embrace the IHRA definition precisely because it clarifies, in black-letter language, what crosses the line. Armed with that clarity, we can argue, protest, satirise and critique Israeli policy – and every other policy under the sun – without subsidising hatred masquerading as politics.

The definition does not muzzle anyone; it rescues all of us from the oldest prejudice in the book. To honour its spirit is not to privilege Jewish pain but to reaffirm the universal principle that no minority should have to endure the erasure of its experience before its suffering is taken seriously.

That is not special pleading. That is equal protection. And it is long past time Australia delivered it.

Adam Slonim is director of the Middle East Policy forum, presenter of the Behind the Headlines podcast and a life member of the ALP.

The Opinion newsletter is a weekly wrap of views that will challenge, champion and inform your own. Sign up here.