In a low-profile electoral upset that defied the difficult national political environment facing the GOP, a Republican candidate declared victory this week in a down-ballot race for a seat on the Prince William Board of County Supervisors in Virginia — for the first time in nearly 40 years.

But while Republicans are now rejoicing over their narrow win, it otherwise largely demonstrated how Democratic leaders effectively sacrificed the seat to the GOP rather than elevate an extremist member of their own party who had claimed the nomination.

The result underscored the extent to which local Democrats had swiftly mobilized to oppose their own nominee, Muhammed Casim, who faced backlash over a series of recently uncovered past social media comments in which he used racist, misogynistic and antisemitic language. The posts, written more than a decade ago, used the n-word as well as demeaning rhetoric targeting women. He also accused Israel of genocide and promoted a conspiratorial post about U.S. financial assistance to the Jewish state, among other extreme comments.

More broadly, the outcome is an atypical example of how the Democratic Party worked to meaningfully confront extremism within its own ranks, even if its efforts came at the expense of an easily winnable local seat that instead flipped to Republicans for the first time in decades. 

Casim apologized for his comments but refused bipartisan calls to drop out of the race, which had motivated a Democratic challenger to launch a write-in campaign that ultimately helped siphon votes away from his embattled bid. He lost to Republican Jeannie LaCroix by a margin of 258 votes. Write-in candidates pulled in 744 votes — a relatively sizable total that appeared to have made a difference in the closely contested race.

“Opposing antisemitism, racism or misogyny isn’t a partisan position,” Marc Broklawski, a Jewish vice chair of the Virginia Democratic Party, told Jewish Insider on Wednesday. “It’s a floor, not a ceiling, and the least we should expect from any party, official candidate or voter. When Democrats hold that floor even when it’s costly, that’s something to be proud of. When we don’t, voters notice that too.”

Casim’s campaign did not respond to a request for comment on Wednesday.

Though some prominent Democrats have sought to reject radicalism in their party, many Jewish party activists have begun to express a growing sense of unease about whether their longtime political home will remain welcoming, amid rising hostility toward Israel that has frequently crossed into antisemitism while producing alliances with controversial figures.

This week, for instance, leading Jewish groups spoke out against New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani’s decision to host Mahmoud Khalil, the campus anti-Israel activist facing deportation who had justified Hamas’ terror attacks, for dinner at his official residence, while Democratic officials largely stayed silent. 

Likewise, a mounting number of Senate Democrats have endorsed Graham Platner in his insurgent bid for Senate in Maine, brushing aside concerns about a recently covered Nazi tattoo whose provenance he has struggled to explain as well as associations with antisemitic conspiracy theorists that have continued to raise alarms among many Jewish party members.

And in Virginia, Jewish Democrats have denounced an anti-Israel state legislator, Sam Rasoul, who has called Zionism “evil” and a “supremacist ideology,” even as high-ranking state party officials have been reluctant to weigh in on his incendiary commentary.

By contrast, several Jewish activists and party strategists said they were encouraged that most Democratic leaders had enforced red lines in the Virginia supervisor election. Even if the party had been forced to endure a short-term hit in losing the seat, they suggested, it was healthy to set standards — particularly in a time of rising extremism on both sides of the aisle.

“Virginia Democratic leaders were clearly repulsed by Muhammed Casim’s racist, misogynistic and antisemitic social media posts,” Sara Forman, a Jewish party strategist who previously worked in the state, told JI. “Their actions, including calling Casim out publicly, should send a strong signal nationally that the entirety of the Democratic Party has not capitulated to the leftist narrative entirely.”

Such opposition was not unanimous, however, as the local party accepted Casim’s apology and said it would stand behind his campaign. “There’s a lesson in there about the integrity of voters and the lack of integrity — and therefore weakened legacy — among some Dem leaders,” Shannon Watts, a gun control activist who has also criticized Platner, wrote in an X post on Wednesday.

“Leadership means speaking out clearly and consistently against antisemitism, racism, misogyny, and not only when it is easy, but especially when it is not — and from whomever,” Eileen Filler-Corn, a Jewish Democrat and former speaker of Virginia’s House of Delegates, told JI. “These values should unite us. We can disagree on policy and politics, but standing against hate and discrimination in all forms should never be up for debate. Our credibility with voters depends on our willingness to apply that standard fairly and without hesitation.”

Still, with most Democratic elected officials in the county refusing to support Casim after his posts had surfaced near the end of the race, nonpartisan Jewish leaders and members of both parties voiced satisfaction regarding the strong show of resistance.

“We think it is imperative that both parties call out the fringe and hateful elements in their own parties, so we’re certainly glad to see the Democratic Party do it in this instance — especially when it was hard and cost them a seat,” Vicki Fishman, the director of Virginia government and community relations at the Jewish Community Relations Council of Greater Washington, told JI. “It’s an important lesson for everybody that hate is hate, and when you see the ugly rhetoric in your own house for what it is, it’s important to call it out.”

Gary Katz, a Jewish Republican activist in nearby Loudoun County, said he was “encouraged by the outcome” of Tuesday’s race, “where principled voices within the Democratic Party chose to reject a nominee whose past comments reflected racism, misogyny and antisemitism — even at the risk of losing the seat to a Republican.”

He said the dynamic “mirrors efforts we’ve seen in the GOP, such as in Fairfax County, to keep hateful elements from gaining leadership roles,” referring to a recent election where Republicans beat back an extreme candidate for county chair who had spread antisemitic conspiracy theories. 

“It’s a reminder that combating the rising scourge of antisemitism requires people of good conscience in both parties to prioritize our shared values over partisan wins,” Katz told JI on Wednesday. “We need more of this vigilance to ensure that extreme fringes on either side never hold power, and that we support responsible leadership, even when we disagree politically, rather than those who align with us but betray our core principles.”

One of the defining characteristics of our age is the utter lack of institutional gatekeepers and red lines against hate in our politics and culture. Extremist rhetoric, antisemitism, racism and approval of political violence are all becoming commonplace in our discourse, to the point where Americans have become numb to the crazy. 

Just take a look at the headlines over the last month of scandals that have captured national attention — and would have been unthinkable not long ago. 

1. Paul Ingrassia, President Donald Trump’s nominee to lead the Office of Special Counsel, withdrew himself from consideration yesterday after belated backlash over his history of racist and antisemitic comments — including a recently revealed text message chain where he said he has a “Nazi streak.” We reported on Ingrassia’s extremist record in May, revealing a string of antisemitic and racist public social media posts, including this shocking comment on X days after Hamas’ Oct. 7, 2023, terror attack: “I think we could all admit at this stage that Israel/Palestine, much like Ukraine before it, and BLM before that, and covid/vaccine before that, was yet another psyop.”

Ingrassia also has been an ally of Nick Fuentes, a virulently antisemitic podcast host and far-right influencer who has long trafficked in Holocaust denial. He attended a rally in 2024 for Fuentes, and in 2023 defended Fuentes after he was banned from Twitter.

Ample documentation of Ingrassia’s bigotry didn’t stunt his nomination, though the new shocking revelations from the private text chain caused key Republicans — most notably, Senate Majority Leader John Thune (R-SD) and Sens. Ron Johnson (R-WI), Rick Scott (R-FL) and James Lankford (R-OK) — to withdraw their support and end his chances of getting confirmed.  

But the fact that he got as close as he did to receiving a hearing for the plum role shows just how much antisemitism is becoming normalized.

2. Graham Platner, the embattled far-left candidate in Maine’s Senate race, already under scrutiny over social media posts declaring himself a communist and calling the police “bastards,” acknowledged he has a skull-and-crossbones tattoo on his chest that his just-departed political director characterized as “anti-Semitic.” A former acquaintance of Platner’s said he called the tattoo “my Totenkopf,” referring to a symbol adopted by a Nazi SS unit.

Platner is facing Maine Gov. Janet Mills, the favorite of the party establishment (for good reason) in the Democratic Senate primary. Platner has been endorsed by Sen. Bernie Sanders (I-VT), praised by several progressive senators and backed by a number of leading labor unions, including the UAW.

Despite Platner’s remarkable baggage and Nazi-themed tattoo, Sanders still is standing behind him. ”I personally think he is an excellent candidate. We don’t have enough candidates in this country who are prepared to take on the powers that be and fight for the working class,” Sanders said Tuesday, when pressed by reporters about the tattoo allegations.

3. A Young Republicans group chat from this year, with 2,900 pages of comments leaked to Politico, was filled with racist and antisemitic texts, with participants including elected lawmakers and up-and-coming professionals in GOP politics. Peter Giunta, a Young Republicans official, joked “I love Hitler” in the chat and said everyone who voted against him for a leadership position “is going to the gas chamber.” Joe Maligno, the general counsel for the New York Young Republicans, later responded: “Can we fix the showers? Gas chambers don’t fit the Hitler aesthetic.”

Politico characterized the group conversations as featuring a “dynamic of easy racism and casual cruelty” that played out in “often dark, vivid fashion” — and noted “the love of Nazis within their party’s right wing” as a common theme of the discourse. The chat included the N-word a dozen times.

But while many Republicans quickly spoke out against the unadulterated hate in the conversation, Vice President JD Vance downplayed the episode as young people “telling stupid jokes.” “I refuse to join the pearl clutching,” Vance said on X, arguing the private conversation was less significant than the scandal involving Jay Jones, the Virginia Democratic attorney general nominee who sent texts wishing political violence against a GOP colleague and his family.

4. Jay Jones’ text messages in 2021 saying his GOP colleague, former House Speaker Todd Gilbert deserved to be killed and calling Gilbert’s children “little fascists” shocked the political world — and upended a race in which Democrats were initially favored. The comments were especially shocking amid a rise in political violence, coming after the assassination of conservative pundit Charlie Kirk and the attempted killing of Trump in the last two years. 

But while many Democrats condemned the comments, no prominent members of the party withdrew their endorsement of the nominee. Even as polls show a small but critical mass of persuadable voters have switched their support to GOP Attorney General Jason Miyares, Jones has maintained near-universal partisan support. 

Sen. Tim Kaine (D-VA), reflecting the general Democratic sentiment in the state, said on NBC’s “Meet the Press”: “Those texts, private texts with a colleague, cannot be defended. They cannot be defended. But Jay Jones has apologized earnestly,” Kaine said. 

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All of these recent episodes are bad enough on their own. But taken together, they are indicative of a deeper problem in our culture. It’s a telling sign of the times that so many political leaders have instinctively rallied around the partisan flag instead of speaking out with the moral clarity that, not long ago, came naturally for them. 

To be sure, there have been some pockets of political principle, mixed in with a smattering of self-interest. The opposition of several key Senate Republicans to Ingrassia’s nomination cut short his political aspirations, at least for now. Former Rep. Abigail Spanberger, the Democratic nominee for Virginia governor, hasn’t affirmed her endorsement for Jay Jones even as she won’t distance herself from him, either. Senate Minority Leader Chuck Schumer (D-NY) endorsed Mills’ candidacy, shortly after news of Platner’s tattoos was revealed. 

But these are the exceptions to the rule, and the half-hearted nature of the distancing underscores how difficult taking on a radicalized base is in our polarized political world. 

This is the type of environment in which antisemitism is thriving — a nihilistic body politic with no rules, standards or expectations for respectable behavior. And it’s as much a demand-side problem, with voters growing numb and desensitized towards growing extremism, as it is about the supply of politicians catering to their constituents. Until Americans put their principles ahead of partisanship, we’re likely to see this dynamic continue to worsen.

The award-winning British novelist Howard Jacobson once wrote, “To assert that antisemitism is not like other racisms, is not to claim a privilege for it.” It was essential for the British public to understand why this is so ahead of last year’s general election, and I believe it is essential for the American people to understand it today. 

Recognizing antisemitism used to be relatively straightforward. A person who marches under a Nazi flag, shouting, “Jews will not replace us” — as so many did in Charlottesville — is easily identifiable and often, even proud of their hatred for Jews. But, antisemitism is hatred in liquid form and can take the shape of whatever political or social philosophy chooses to use it. It has a unique ability to adapt and change with circumstances, finding new proponents and vehicles and clothing familiar tropes in new guises. It has become more difficult to recognize.

In the U.K., the Jewish community has been battling against far-left antisemitism for several years. It is not that anti-Jewish hatred on the far-right has disappeared, just that it has more limited political credibility. Across Europe and elsewhere, however, antisemitism has crawled back and lodged itself into mainstream political discourse on both the left and the right. The far-right think nothing of demonizing high profile Jews as wealthy, manipulative puppet-masters, whilst the far-left think nothing of casting Zionism as the new Nazism.

Recent evidence suggests that unexpectedly, the United States has become one of the next battlegrounds — something that only a few years ago would have seemed unthinkable. More than a third of American Jews report that they have personally been the targets of antisemitism over the last five years. That is why I used my visit to Washington this week for the AIPAC Policy Conference to share some of the key lessons of the British experience.

There are several lessons, but they all flow from a single, inescapable principle: Antisemitism must be held above the realm of partisan politics. The moment that tackling anti-Jewish hatred becomes more of a political point scoring exercise than the merciless pursuit of bigotry and prejudice, the battle against it will be lost.

In practice, this means that figures on the left must lead the charge against left wing antisemitism just as those on the right must face down the anti-Jewish hatred which emanates on the right. Both Democrats and Republicans have their work cut out for them. Both must resist the temptation to judge their own responses to the problem by what they each perceive to be the low standards set by the other. It is easy to criticize the prejudice of one’s political opponents, but those who really care about fighting racism will call it out even when it is politically inconvenient to do so. 

It also means avoiding hyperbole and personal attacks. As the tone of political debate sinks ever lower, it can be hard not to respond in kind. In my experience, temperance, patience and nuance are far more powerful allies in the long term than shrill soundbites which might generate cheap headlines in the short term.                   

Clarity of definition is invaluable. The International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance (IHRA) working definition of antisemitism is both clear and objective. Those who reject it must be confronted and those who accept it must be held to it. In our post-election U.K., 641 out of 643 members of Parliament have now stated publicly that they accept this definition. The public is left to draw its own conclusions about the two who have not. Lawmakers in the U.S. should be held to the same standard.  

Finally, it is essential to be wise to the sinister formulation, favored by many antisemites, of “good Jews” and “bad Jews.” This formulation provides cover for the antisemites to maintain their animus towards Jews, by claiming an affinity (even a legitimate one) with other, “better” Jews in a different context. Understanding this formulation can render a whole host of familiar claims, weak and unconvincing: “I am not an antisemite because my hostility is reserved for Zionists/I have Jewish friends/I have Jewish heritage/I have a long record of fighting anti-racism.” None of these claims necessarily preclude anti-Jewish hatred as defined by the IHRA definition.

Jean Paul Sartre was right when he said, “If the Jew did not exist, the antisemite would have to invent him.” This is because anti-Jewish racism is a symptom, true across the globe and across time, of disquiet and unease in a society with a desperate need for someone to blame. The caricature of the Jew is as appealing a scapegoat to those who want to “strike upwards” against the privileged, as it is to those who want to “strike downwards” against those who are simply different. 

In this world of social media trolls, fake news and political polarization, an increase in antisemitism should perhaps come as no surprise. Far too many political leaders, however, would rather deny it, ignore it or blame others for it. We must hold them to a higher standard and demand that they show an increasingly rare unity of purpose and join together to take responsibility for rooting it out. Because what starts with the Jews never ends with the Jews.