By Jonathan S. Tobin
(JNS) — At a time when antisemitism is surging across the globe, it’s unsurprising that the anniversary of the publication of a crucial document that sought to end many centuries of Christian discrimination and persecution of Jews passed largely without notice in the general media. Nostra Aetate (Latin for “In Our Time”) or the “Declaration on the Relation of the Church with Non-Christian Religions” was promulgated by the Second Vatican Council under the authority of Pope Paul VI on Oct. 28, 1965.
For the first time in the history of the Catholic Church, its central governing authority had issued a definitive statement about relations between its adherents and the Jewish people. It sought to change it from one of perennial antagonism to one of understanding and fellowship. Most specifically, it rejected the age-old accusation that Jews bore collective guilt for the death of Jesus and affirmed the spiritual bond between Christianity and Judaism. In a single stroke, the Church went from being an institution that had long been a bulwark of antisemitism to its avowed opponent. In 2025, however, Nostra Aetate is more than just a glorious historical achievement that deserves to be remembered and celebrated. Sadly, it is as relevant today as it was in 1965 because antisemitism isn’t merely on the rise. It has become normalized in the very countries where it was thought to be dying out.
Equally important, the institution that took this important stand now finds itself in a morally compromised position. At the same time, it is publicly opposing hate against Jews, while also helping fuel it through often unfair and even outrageous stands about the ongoing war being waged against Israel by those who seek its destruction.
As a result of such ambivalence, the church is failing to take the kind of unequivocal stand against antisemitism coming from both the left and the right.
The Church’s inherent concern for the downtrodden and the perception that Leo’s predecessor Pope Francis was closely linked to the cause of social justice, if not “liberation theology,” has given it some influence on the political left. At the same time, the Church also has great sway over many conservatives, especially in the United States, among whose ranks the virus of antisemitism seems to be gaining purchase.
This latter is crucial because at the heart of the current controversy over Tucker Carlson’s efforts to promote the beliefs of Nick Fuentes is something that speaks directly to the legacy of Nostra Aetate.
Some of Carlson’s defenders claim that outrage about his obsessive platforming of anyone who will speak ill of Israel and the Jews isn’t really about antisemitism. Instead, they say it is all about two things.
One is the supposed desire of “neo-conservatives” — a once-relevant term that denoted former liberals and leftists who had become conservative in the 1970s and 1980s, but now seems to be a general term of abuse for supporters of Israel, or “Israel Firsters,” to silence dissenting views about the U.S.-Israel alliance.
The other is their abhorrence for “gatekeeping” — a mistaken belief that any attempt to marginalize hatemongers, racists and antisemites is no different from woke progressive efforts to stifle free speech and suppress mainstream conservative views, as well as those who seek to defend Western civilization and traditional understandings of American values and history.
Both claims are either misunderstandings or disingenuous.
At the heart of both Carlson’s attacks on mainstream pro-Israel journalists and politicians, as well as Fuentes’s extremist rants, is an assault on the whole idea of a Judeo-Christian heritage that is the foundation of Western culture and political thought. As Jason Willick detailed in The Washington Post, Tucker’s argument goes deeper than the usual litany of falsehoods and blood libels. What bothers him is not so much the mythical power of the Jews or the “Israel lobby,” but the idea that there is common theological ground between Judaism and Christianity.
Instead, in one of many instances of what can only be described as “Jew-baiting,” Carlson has said he believes that the Hebrew bible is a dark, vengeful book that explains the awfulness of Israeli efforts to defend its people against terrorism. He argues that Western civilization is the sole product of the Christian New Testament with its message of love and kindness.
But his fundamentally ahistorical and anti-intellectual attempt to detach Jews from the Western tradition is merely a more sophisticated and sinister version of the same hate that is driving Fuentes. It explains why he claims he is so intolerant of Christian Zionists. He says he dislikes them “more than anybody.”
Of course, there’s nothing new about this kind of thinking. And contrary to Carlson’s assertion, it was itself rejected by the early Christian church as heretical.
But Carlson and Fuentes aren’t alone in feeling this way.
The anti-Jewish sentiment voiced by some on the right in response to the backlash against Carlson’s platforming of antisemitism bears all the marks of the same sort of intolerance and determination to distance Christian practice from the Jewish roots of their faith.
And that is why Nostra Aetate is so relevant today.
What wound up being published by the Vatican 60 years ago was itself the product of a vigorous and not altogether enlightened debate. In the end, Nostra Aetate was the result of compromise among its authors, who chose a final text that was more ecumenical in nature, rather than solely focused on making amends with and bettering relations with the Jews. Yet in discarding the deicide myth and ending the use of anti-Jewish language in Easter services, the Church took a decisive step against antisemitism. That served as the foundation for the later efforts of Pope John Paul II, to go even further in bringing the two faith traditions closer. And it led to the Vatican’s decision to finally formally recognize the State of Israel in 1993.
That is why the church’s stances to both oppose antisemitism while also lending its voice to some of the calumnies hurled at Israel are so disappointing. Instead of joining with those who seek to debunk the blood libels about Israel committing genocide and leaving no doubt that those who seek the destruction of the one Jewish state on the planet are instead supporting genocide of the Jews, the Vatican has sought a morally dubious middle ground on the issue.
Like the vast number of evangelical Christians who remain fervently pro-Israel and philo-semitic, the same is true of many Catholics. The drumbeat of incitement against Israel has helped mainstream hatred against Jews in the media, culture, and especially, in the education system. But most Americans are still pro-Israel and remain firmly opposed to Carlson’s ideas.
Jews and Christians should be allies in a joint campaign to defend the Judeo-Christian heritage that is essential to the achievements and freedoms that are the legacy of Western civilization.
Sixty years after Nostra Aetate, the voice of the Vatican needs to be raised against the growing tide of antisemitism that the destructive rants of Carlson, Fuentes and their enablers and defenders are fueling. But it must be done without also being accompanied, as it so often has, with support for arguments about Israel that delegitimize it and basic elements of Jewish identity that are linked to the land of Israel. Its failure to do so in an unambiguous way is helping to undermine the heroic efforts of Leo’s 20th-century predecessors who worked so hard to make amends for and to undo the harm caused by the Church in the past.