The Rise and Impact of Anti‑Semitism in the Mental Health Field on Jewish Therapists and Clients (Since October 7th)

Antisemitism’s Psychological Toll Is Far-Reaching

Since the Hamas attack on October 7, 2023, Jewish therapists and clients have faced an alarming increase in antisemitism within mental health spaces. Jewish clinicians have reported being doxxed, blacklisted, excluded from professional networks, and even fired for speaking out about antisemitic hostility. For clients, therapy—ideally a space of healing and trust—has often become a setting marked by cultural invalidation and fear of discrimination. This is not anecdotal. A new psychological term, traumatic invalidation, was introduced to describe what occurs when Jewish clients share grief or distress about antisemitism or violence, only to have their experiences dismissed, redirected, or ignored by their therapists.

While the immediate emotional impact can include anxiety, hypervigilance, and depression, its effects are also cumulative and intergenerational. Jewish individuals often carry inherited trauma from historical events and persecution that have shaped communal and familial identities. This inherited trauma is not abstract; it lives in the nervous system, in family narratives, and cultural memory. When present-day antisemitism resurfaces—especially in spaces that should offer care—it reactivates deep-seated fears and survival responses.

For many Jewish clients, the experience of walking into a therapy session and being met with minimization, ideological lecturing, or total silence around antisemitic harm becomes retraumatizing. The pain isn’t just about the individual moment—it’s about what that moment represents. It confirms a long history of being unsafe in dominant culture, of having to justify one’s pain, and of being forced to navigate identity under threat.

These psychological impacts often manifest as chronic anxiety, difficulty trusting therapeutic relationships, feelings of cultural erasure, and intense grief. Without culturally competent care, Jewish clients are left unsupported, emotionally dysregulated, and sometimes retraumatized by the very system intended to help them. For clinicians, failing to understand this generational layering of trauma leads to harm that is both preventable and deeply unethical.

Therapy should be a space where clients can bring the full weight of their identity and experience—without fear that their story will be reinterpreted through the therapist’s political lens. This is especially true for historically marginalized communities like Jews, whose trauma is often misunderstood or flattened in clinical discourse. For real healing to occur, therapists must meet Jewish clients with cultural knowledge, humility, and an awareness of the historical echoes that shape their pain today.

Understanding Trauma, Generational Impact, and Cultural Layers

Antisemitism’s psychological toll is far-reaching. While the immediate emotional impact can include anxiety, hypervigilance, and depression, its effects are also cumulative and intergenerational. Jewish individuals often carry generational trauma from historical events such as the Holocaust, forced exile, and repeated persecution. These events aren’t just history—they are encoded in familial memory and expressed through somatic, emotional, and spiritual means.

When current-day antisemitism resurfaces, especially during periods of violent conflict or global unrest, it reactivates those inherited experiences. Many Jewish clients experience this resurgence as a multi-layered trauma that touches identity, community belonging, and safety. Research has shown that exposure to perceived antisemitism can lead to a measurable decline in overall well-being, and therapists who overlook these nuances often leave clients feeling further alienated.

Therapeutic spaces that minimize or politicize Jewish trauma become sites of retraumatization. This is why cultural humility, historical literacy, and religious competency are non-negotiables for clinicians serving Jewish populations today. Recognizing trauma in this context requires more than passive tolerance—it calls for informed and intentional care.

Double Standards: Racism Denied While Antisemitism Flourishes

While most institutions have made progress in responding to racism, homophobia, and other forms of identity-based violence, antisemitism is still frequently minimized, rationalized, or framed as political discourse. This double standard is perhaps one of the most painful realities for Jewish clients and therapists.

In many mental health institutions, clinicians and staff are educated to be aware of microaggressions, racial trauma, and culturally sensitive language—yet antisemitic rhetoric often flies under the radar. Phrases like “Zionist oppressor,” dismissive attitudes toward Jewish grief, or the suggestion that Jewish suffering is “less urgent” due to perceived privilege are not uncommon in supposedly inclusive settings.

Some therapists have reported being fired or deplatformed simply for defending Jewish identity or requesting cultural consultation on Jewish issues. Others were told to remain “neutral” in the face of rising hate, even as other minority perspectives were actively affirmed. This kind of selective silence does not protect neutrality—it reinforces erasure.

Jewish professionals and clients deserve the same protections and validation afforded to other marginalized communities. Silence in the face of antisemitism is not ethical neutrality—it is complicity.

Clear Solutions: Accountability, Reporting, and Restorative Action

Combating antisemitism in mental health requires proactive, systemic changes. The first step is acknowledging that antisemitism exists and impacts clinical environments. From there, institutions can implement clear frameworks for accountability and education.

Training programs must include dedicated modules on antisemitism—its history, its modern forms, and how it manifests in therapeutic practice. Ethics boards and licensing bodies should explicitly name antisemitism in their anti-discrimination policies and provide formal channels to report violations.

If a therapist witnesses antisemitic behavior among colleagues or feels unsupported when addressing antisemitism in supervision, they should have access to a reporting mechanism that ensures safety and follow-up. Legal recourse and professional advocacy organizations can support therapists and clients in filing complaints or pursuing legal action to seek justice.

Importantly, Jewish clinicians should not be left to fight these battles alone. Institutions must invest in restorative justice practices, offer public support, and ensure Jewish staff and clients are seen, heard, and protected.

For Non‑Jewish or Pro‑Palestine Therapists: Language and Limits in the Room

Therapists are human, and many hold strong political or social beliefs. However, personal ideologies must never eclipse ethical care. If a therapist aligns with pro-Palestinian activism, they must take great care not to let that alignment result in dismissing or marginalizing their Jewish clients.

Therapy is not a place to debate geopolitics—it is a space to explore a client’s pain, identity, and healing. Telling a Jewish client that their fear is “political,” or reframing their grief as “complicity,” is not only harmful—it is unethical.

Clinicians should practice reflective supervision, seek consultation when needed, and maintain a culture of cultural humility. Ask questions, don’t make assumptions. If the therapist finds themselves unable to hold space without bias, referring out is not just appropriate—it is necessary.

When to Refer Out: Ethics, Competency, and Conflict

Referring out is sometimes seen as avoidance, but in reality, it is a sign of ethical integrity. If a therapist recognizes that their beliefs, countertransference, or lack of cultural competency compromises care, they have a professional duty to step aside.

This is especially true when it comes to deeply embedded cultural trauma. Therapists who lack a working understanding of Jewish history, identity, or community dynamics should not “learn on the job” with Jewish clients. Instead, they should seek continuing education, peer support, and, when necessary, make a thoughtful and respectful referral.

Clients deserve clinicians who are attuned to their lived experiences, not those who question, invalidate, or attempt to neutralize them.

When Colleagues Become Combatants: The Politicization of Facebook Therapy Groups

In the months following October 7, an unsettling trend emerged in professional Facebook groups and online therapist communities. Jewish clinicians began to witness an alarming level of hostility—not from extremists, but from colleagues. Colleagues who are neither Jewish nor Palestinian, who often admit to having minimal knowledge about the Middle East, have taken it upon themselves to dictate what is and isn’t antisemitic, lecture Jewish therapists about Zionism, and demand moral loyalty tests under the guise of allyship.

What’s more disturbing is that these attacks are often framed as “anti-oppression” advocacy. However, let’s be clear: what we’re witnessing is not allyship—it’s ideological projection, often rooted in a lack of historical understanding and fueled by social media activism that prioritizes performance over nuance. These spaces, once designed for clinical support and professional dialogue, have devolved into arenas where Jewish clinicians are shamed, silenced, and excluded for simply existing in their full identity.

Many Jewish therapists now feel they must hide their beliefs—or their grief—to remain employable or professionally safe. The expectation to publicly denounce Israel to remain “ethical” is a standard no other cultural or ethnic group is subjected to in our field.

The Hypocrisy of Selective Empathy and the Weaponization of “Neutrality”

Imagine a Black client or therapist naming something as racist—only to be met with defensiveness, redirection, or a lecture about how "racism is complex." We would call that fragility, and rightly so. Yet when Jewish clinicians or clients name something as antisemitic, this exact response has become the norm.

Instead of being heard, Jewish people are frequently met with intellectualized denial: “It’s not antisemitic, it’s anti-Zionist.” Or worse: “If Israel stopped doing XYZ, none of this would be happening.” This disturbing deflection shifts the blame for rising antisemitism off the perpetrators and onto Jewish people themselves. In doing so, it reinforces a centuries-old pattern: justifying hatred by blaming Jewish existence or perceived power.

The truth is, antisemitism doesn’t disappear when Israel is silent, weakened, or even attacked. It simply evolves. Today, the word “Zionist” has become a socially acceptable slur, wielded to mask age-old conspiracy theories about Jewish power and control. It's not just antisemitism repackaged—it’s antisemitism hiding in plain sight, legitimized by political rhetoric and postmodern distortions of oppression.

Overidentification, Projection, and the American Lens

Another emerging problem lies in how U.S.-based activists, including therapists, project American race dynamics onto a Middle Eastern conflict they don’t fully understand. Some non-Jewish providers have overidentified with the Palestinian cause in a way that conflates it with their own personal or ancestral experiences of systemic oppression in the United States.

While empathy for Palestinians is valid and important, this projection is dangerous. It flattens the complexity of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. It casts Jewish people—many of whom are refugees, immigrants, or people of color—as stand-ins for white supremacy and colonialism. This distorted binary leads to dangerously simplistic assumptions about who is “the oppressor” and who is “the oppressed,” erasing the diverse, intersectional identities of Jews, especially Mizrahi, Sephardic, and Ethiopian communities.

Such projection not only warps political discourse—it destabilizes our therapeutic ethics. In training, we are taught to bracket our narratives to focus on our clients. Yet, when therapists center their politics over the lived trauma of a Jewish client, or worse, shame them for grieving, they betray the very foundations of our field.

The Dangerous Infiltration of Hate into Clinical Space

The infiltration of politicized hate into therapeutic spaces and collegial relationships is eroding our collective humanity. We entered this profession to heal—to hold pain, foster empathy, and create bridges. But we are now watching as those bridges collapse under the weight of “Oppression Olympics,” where the goal is no longer understanding each other, but ranking whose suffering is more valid.

Jewish therapists are increasingly isolated. Jewish clients are questioning whether therapy is even safe for them anymore. And the field, in its fear of controversy, continues to default to silence—allowing antisemitism to fester beneath the surface while professing inclusion and equity.

This moment calls for moral clarity, not performative neutrality. It calls for ethical courage, not ideological conformity. And it calls for professionals to do what we were trained to do: to listen, to hold space, and to protect those who are being harmed—especially when it’s not popular to do so.

This Is Why I Wrote This Blog

I wrote this not just as a therapist, but as a Jewish woman who has lived this pain. I’ve experienced the silencing. I’ve been targeted. I’ve watched colleagues twist justice into a weapon. And still—I believe in therapy. I believe in the power of this work to create repair, even in fractured spaces.

I also believe Israel has the right to exist. I believe in a two-state solution. I believe two truths can exist at once: that Palestinians deserve dignity and safety, and that antisemitism must never be tolerated—especially in a field dedicated to healing.

If you’ve read this far, I thank you. Not because you agree with me, but because you care enough to sit with complexity. That, more than anything, is what our profession needs right now.

Frequently Asked Questions (FAQ)

1. How can a Jewish client report antisemitism from a therapist?
Start by contacting clinic leadership, HR, or the therapist’s licensing board. In the U.S., clients can also file a complaint with the Office for Civil Rights or seek legal support through Jewish advocacy organizations.

2. What is “traumatic invalidation”?
It refers to the experience of expressing trauma or fear, particularly as a minority, and having it dismissed, minimized, or reframed in a way that erases its cultural meaning. Jewish clients have reported this after sharing concerns about antisemitism, only to be told their pain was political or not real.

3. Can politically outspoken therapists ethically treat Jewish clients?
Only if they can maintain clinical neutrality and prioritize the client’s perspective. If their political stance affects therapeutic alliance or safety, they should seek consultation or refer out.

4. How does antisemitism affect mental health over generations?
Intergenerational trauma from events like the Holocaust, pogroms, or forced exile can manifest as anxiety, hypervigilance, or identity conflict in descendants. This is compounded by ongoing discrimination and cultural denial.

5. Why is antisemitism treated differently than other forms of discrimination?
Often due to misconceptions of Jewish privilege, political entanglements, and lack of education. Unlike racism or other systemic biases, antisemitism frequently hides behind ideology, making it harder to identify and confront.

6. What can non-Jewish clients or therapists do to support Jewish communities?
Educate yourself on Jewish history and the current rise in antisemitism. Be curious, ask culturally humble questions, and speak out when antisemitism is ignored. Respect lived experiences, even if they differ from your own.

A Call to Ethical Responsibility

The mental health field must confront its blind spots. Since October 7, Jewish therapists and clients have faced a crisis of safety and belonging in spaces meant for healing. The response cannot be silence, neutrality, or bureaucratic delay.

It must be clear, direct, and intentional: antisemitism is real. It exists in clinical settings. And it causes harm.

Therapists must commit to cultural humility, institutions must build safe and responsive systems, and all professionals must hold themselves to the highest ethical standards—especially when it’s uncomfortable.

Jewish clients deserve more than tolerance—they deserve safety, validation, and care. The profession owes them nothing less.