“Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”
The widely cited aphorism by the philosopher George Santayana, which is inscribed on a plaque at Auschwitz, has never felt more urgent, along with an unavoidable corollary: a democracy that doesn’t teach history is doomed, because a historically ignorant citizenry is easily manipulated and misled.
That is especially true in an age of digital misinformation – and disinformation – when lies circulating at lightspeed can fuel hatred and incite violence.
For the Jewish community in the United States, the danger is already acute. Across the country, historical knowledge is collapsing. Only 13 percent of eighth graders now reach proficiency in U.S. history, while the share performing below basic levels has soared to 40 percent – up from 34 percent in 2018. Schools have cut back humanities courses to prioritize STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering, and Mathematics), and universities are downsizing or dropping history programs entirely. Only one in five Americans under age 45 can pass the most elementary history quiz, compared to three-quarters of older adults.
In short, a generation is entering adulthood without the grounding needed to recognize patterns, understand threats, or separate fact from fiction.
In earlier eras, this would have been unfortunate. In today’s information environment, it’s explosive.
Our public square has shifted to social media platforms built to amplify outrage, not accuracy. TikTok, Instagram, YouTube, and X reward emotional impact over context, speed over verification, and frictionless sharing over reflection. A student who lacks historical grounding becomes an easy mark for whatever is most provocative or most repeated.
Fringe voices have taken full advantage. Rabid antisemites and vile conspiracy entrepreneurs – once confined to a shady universe of amateurish looking pamphlets and newsletters mailed from post office boxes – now reach millions through slick videos tailored for virality. The poison spreads effortlessly because the audience lacks the immunity that comes with proper education.
More troubling, some of these figures expand their reach through the postings and podcasts of popular media personalities – like former Fox News Channel program host Tucker Carlson. His recent “just asking questions” interviews with an avowed antisemite and Holocaust denier and a self-described “avocational historian” who claims Winston Churchill was “the chief villain of the Second World War” served to mainstream neo-Nazi propaganda.
The disappearance of the traditional newspaper front page for most consumers of news has removed another safeguard. The front page – in print or electronic editions – is a daily act of editorial judgment, a ranking of significance. It imposes order and proportion. In contrast, the newsfeed treats everything – news and opinion, gossip and rumor – as “content.” The stories are presented as interchangeable tiles of equal visual weight.
And into this ecosystem enters something even more destabilizing: deepfakes. Deepfake audio and video no longer resemble experimental curiosities. They already impersonate public figures well enough to peddle bogus health and weight-loss supplements with fabricated celebrity endorsements. Fake recordings will soon be indistinguishable from the real thing.
For Jews, the implications are obvious. If a crude forgery like The Protocols of the Elders of Zion, first published in Tsarist Russia in 1903, could popularize belief in an international Jewish conspiracy – and help to justify prejudice, persecution, and ultimately genocide – imagine the destructive power of AI-generated “historical” footage purporting to show Zionist movement or Israeli leaders saying what they never said. A constant stream of fabricated filth could easily become commonplace.
A historically literate population can at least approach such material with skepticism. A historically illiterate population cannot. That is the intersection we now face: declining historical knowledge colliding with a technology capable of destroying the very concept of evidence.
The danger isn’t just deception. It’s disorientation. When citizens can’t tell what is real, they stop trusting everything. And when trust collapses, conspiracy theories fill the void.
The 20th century’s preeminent American political scientist, Hans J. Morgenthau, used the term “devil theory” to describe the simplistic idea that wars are secretly planned and orchestrated by powerful groups, such as arms manufacturers and bankers. As a Jewish refugee from Nazi Germany, Morgenthau was painfully aware of how conspiracy theories such as the devil theory were weaponized to justify centuries of antisemitic violence since the Middle Ages. His political realism in international relations was shaped in part by his understanding of how myths and demonization drive political action, and of how Jews are often the first – and most convenient – targets of conspiracy thinking.
Were he alive today, Morgenthau would surely agree: the decline in history education, combined with the influence of social media and the proliferation of deepfakes, poses a significant threat to the future of American democracy – and to the safety and wellbeing of American Jewry.
The response must be decisive: rebuild history education; restore civic literacy; teach digital verification as a core survival skill. In today’s environment, these aren’t cultural luxuries or academic debates. They are democratic imperatives – and essential to Jewish security.