It is tempting to shrug off conspiracy theories as fringe entertainment. But today’s conspiracism is neither small nor harmless; it saturates segments of the American right.
Worse, its loudest promoters seem to believe what they peddle — and millions of followers nod along as if faith were evidence.
In the aftermath of Charlie Kirk’s assassination, that dynamic erupted in plain view. Instead of simple mourning, prominent voices spun insinuations about Jews, Israel and supposed donor blackmail.
It is prime-time innuendo dressed up as dissident truth. Tucker Carlson and Candace Owens turned grief into speculation: Carlson’s familiar just-asking-questions cadence pointed at foreign fingerprints while Owens nodded toward string pullers behind the scenes.
The poison matters because the claims are baseless and familiar. Whispered lines about Jewish financiers and hidden hands echo the “Protocols of the Elders of Zion,” the notorious 1903 forgery that helped launder hatred into policy. In 2025, the medium has changed — podcasts, livestreams, viral clips — but the message is the same: Blame the Jews.
A conspiratorial frame thrives on inversion. If mainstream institutions, Jewish organizations, or reputable reporters condemn a claim as antisemitic, that condemnation becomes proof to true believers that the claim must be right.
The absence of evidence is recast as evidence of a cover-up. In that upside-down logic, the more a lie is refuted, the truer it feels.
Equally troubling is the audience’s appetite for conclusion without corroboration. Too many are ready to accept that Jews are bad, Israel is evil, and anything short of MAGA orthodoxy is suspect. That is not debate. It is incitement by atmosphere.
We hesitate to list these calumnies, since repetition risks amplification. Yet silence concedes the field. Disclosure is the disinfectant: show the words, strip away the euphemisms and call the rhetoric what it is — old hate with new branding.
Naming names matters because platforms confer power. Carlson elevates guests who tie Jewish philanthropy to political control, turning suggestion into content. Owens recycles talk of donor pressure, implying coercion while disclaiming intent.
Some argue that mainstream purveyors of information have weakened their authority by embracing ideological blinders or playing fast and loose with facts. There is some truth to that. But those failings do not justify resurrecting blood libel thinking or indulging bigotry.
Flaws in journalism or academia cannot excuse scapegoating Jews for the world’s problems.
The practical danger is concrete. Bigoted myths migrate from podcasts to policies and from comment threads to crimes.
History teaches that absurdity is no barrier to violence; it is often the spark. The unbelievable becomes the unthinkably deadly when people with megaphones purvey slander as common sense.
That is why we cannot look away. The fight is about protecting the public space where facts still matter. When conspiracy theories flow so easily, democracy itself is debased. We must demand more — from media, from political leaders and from ourselves.
Antisemitism is not an alternative perspective. It is hatred. Those who dress it up as bold truth telling are not rebels; they are agitators, preying on grievance and selling poison as wisdom. To challenge them is not optional — it is the price of civic survival.
Antisemitism is a virus, and it must be fought as one.
