The murder of Sarah Milgrim, 26, and Yaron Lischinsky, 30, at the Capital Jewish Museum in Washington last month was not only a senseless act of violence – it was a message. A message to all who love us, who stand with us, who live beside us. Sarah and Yaron were young Israeli Embassy employees, soon to be engaged, whose lives were full of promise, service, and joy.
They loved Israel, each other, and life itself – with hope, with purpose, and plans for a future they were never able to build. Their deaths remind us: Antisemitism is not just a Jewish problem. It is a societal one.
Their murder came in the shadow of October 7, 2023, the deadliest day for Jews since the Holocaust, and amid the continued anguish of families whose loved ones remain hostage in Gaza. That anguish is not theirs alone. It belongs to all of us.
Captivity deepens the wound
Every day of captivity deepens the wound. And the war that followed magnifies the hostility, suspicion, and physical threats that Jews now face around the world. Even as we grieve, we must confront the broader climate that enables and excuses antisemitic violence.
The shooting at the Capital Jewish Museum was no aberration. A self-described “decolonial” activist deliberately targeted a Jewish institution, exposing the violent potential embedded in much of today’s anti-Zionist rhetoric.
He had marched in Chicago alongside groups calling to “Globalize the Intifada” and “de-Zionize” American campuses. These are not slogans of dissent; they are incitements to violence. On that night, we saw what happens when that incitement turns deadly.
We will not dignify the attacker by naming him. Our focus belongs with the victims, not with those who seek notoriety through violence. Our attention must remain with the lives stolen, and with the communities now called to respond – with strength, resolve, and unity – by all who embrace moral clarity and the courage to confront evil.
The setting renders the tragedy all the more wrenching. A place built to celebrate life and legacy became a site of unimaginable loss. As we grapple with that loss, we recall the words of the medieval poet Judah Halevi: “It is terrible to love what death can touch.”
They loved Israel, each other, and life itself, with joy, hope, and plans for a future they were never able to build. Their love has now been forever touched by hatred. But their memory, and our response, must be defined not by fear, but by action.
From the horror of that Wednesday night to the joy of Jerusalem Day last week, the journey has been wrenching, but also clarifying. As I stood in Jerusalem, surrounded by song, resilience, and resolve, one truth was clear: We will raise our flags higher, in honor of Sarah and Yaron, and in defiance of those who sought to silence them.
We will live Jewish lives with even more determination, in communities around the world and in our eternal homeland.
We will dance with greater joy, love with deeper pride, and build with greater purpose.
Nothing and no one will ever deter us.
IHRA definition of antisemitism
That clarity must now be matched by action. The US federal government must prosecute this case as both an act of terrorism and a hate crime. Congress must ensure robust protections for Jewish institutions. It must pass the Antisemitism Awareness Act, enshrining the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance (IHRA) definition of antisemitism, a framework particularly urgent at this moment.
The IHRA definition explicitly recognizes that holding Jews collectively responsible for the actions of the State of Israel is antisemitic. This shooting embodied that very definition. The gunman targeted a Jewish cultural institution, not an Israeli military site or government office, because of his anger at Israel’s policies.
No operational connection
The Capital Jewish Museum has no operational connection to the Israeli government or the IDF. And yet, Sarah and Yaron were murdered simply for attending a Jewish event in a Jewish space. That is not protest. That is antisemitism, pure and simple.
Clarity about this act of violence, and about antisemitism itself, makes the IHRA definition indispensable.
It already has been adopted by more than 1,200 institutions worldwide, including over 40 national governments, two-thirds of US states, and hundreds of regional and civil society bodies. It offers a shared understanding of what antisemitism looks like today. Its broader integration across campuses, agencies, and public discourse would equip institutions with the tools to identify and confront antisemitism wherever it appears.
Nowhere is the demand for unambiguous moral understanding more urgent than on college campuses, where antisemitism often masquerades as political discourse. University administrators must finally acknowledge the moral cost of campus rhetoric that dehumanizes Jews and demonizes Israel.
Extraordinary unity
In the immediate aftermath of this tragedy, 44 national Jewish organizations – spanning the religious, cultural, political, and ideological spectrum – came together in an extraordinary show of unity.
Coordinated by the Conference of Presidents of Major American Jewish Organizations, we issued a joint statement urging immediate federal action to strengthen the security of Jewish institutions, expand law enforcement and intelligence efforts against antisemitic violence, and hold online platforms accountable for spreading hate and incitement.
United, we send a powerful signal: across our religious, political, and cultural differences, we remain steadfast and indivisible in the face of antisemitic hatred and incitement.
Our hearts are broken. But our resolve is unshaken. We will honor Sarah and Yaron, not with silence nor fear, but with clarity, courage, and an unwavering demand for justice. In the face of adversity, we reaffirm our commitment to unity, drawing strength from our shared history and collective purpose. As we stand together, we embody the enduring spirit of resilience that has defined our people through generations.
Jews are future builders
The Jewish people are not relics of the past. We are builders of the future.
Each act of memory, each act of resolve, and each affirmation of our destiny strengthens our enduring commitment – as a people anchored in Jewish continuity, shaped by the memory of exile and return, of expulsions, pogroms, and genocide, and by the graves of our ancestors who endured every attempt to erase us – through violence, exile, and unimaginable loss, and endured.
With every trial, we have grown stronger. From that strength, we build a future defined not by fear, but by resilience, purpose, and an unshakable will to thrive.
The writer is the CEO of the Conference of Presidents of Major American Jewish Organizations, the central coordinating body representing 50 diverse national Jewish organizations on issues of national and international concern. Follow him on X at @daroff.