If you walk around Buenos Aires, the capital city of Argentina, you will come across a sign that reads, Construyamos un pa铆s sin antisemitismo. In English, that鈥檚 鈥淟et鈥檚 build a country without antisemitism.鈥� It鈥檚 in store windows and on construction-site fences.
Can you imagine such signage in the major cities of Europe or North America today?
Ironically, the place where this message is found might be the place least in need of it. In the current, precarious moment for world Jewry, there might not be a better place in the Diaspora than Buenos Aires. My wife and I recently spent three months there, and what we found was astounding.
First, there鈥檚 the size of the Jewish community. Buenos Aires has, by far, the largest Jewish population in Latin America. Outside of Israel, it is the sixth largest in the world. Outside the United States, it is second only to Paris. It鈥檚 larger than noted Jewish enclaves in London, Toronto, Philadelphia and Miami. Given its size, and Argentina鈥檚 unique immigration pattern of the last century, the Jewish population is highly diverse with substantial religious, non-religious, Sephardic and Ashkenazi segments. It has robust synagogues, day schools and community centers.
Second, there鈥檚 the cohesiveness. Like many Diaspora communities in more isolated locales, such as South Africa or Australia, Argentinian Jews are both massively Zionistic and highly attuned to local community news. There鈥檚 a sense of insularity where everyone knows everyone, and the number of anti-Israel Jews is small. There is no 鈥淛 Street鈥� or 鈥淚f Not Now鈥� there.
Third, there鈥檚 the post-Oct. 7 experience. Unlike in other major cities around the world, there has been no major uptick in antisemitic protests in Buenos Aires. In part, that鈥檚 due to the nature of its population. The large Muslim populations in Western Europe and the large Arab student populations in the United States do not exist there. The student-activist community that does exist seems to have found other causes to agitate about. I asked a local about this, and she replied, 鈥淭his is a hard place to be antisemitic.鈥� Another said, 鈥淓ven people who might think it, don鈥檛 say it; because everyone knows someone in the community.鈥�
Finally, there鈥檚 the current Argentinian government, led by President Javier Milei. To say Milei has led a sea change in Argentinian policies is an understatement.
鈥淜irchnerism鈥� is the 21st-century version of the Argentinian political left. Named for former president Nestor Kirchner and his wife and successor Cristina Fernandez de Kirchner, it is the indirect inheritor of 20th-century Peronism. It is a populist, socialist movement often allied with other Latin American leftists, including the Chavez/Maduro regime in Venezuela. Its relations with Israel have long been frosty. Former President Fernandez de Kirchner was even indicted for her role in covering up Iran鈥檚 orchestration of the worst terrorist attack against Jews in Argentina鈥檚 history in 1994鈥攖he bombing of AMIA, the Argentine Mutual Israelite Association.
Milei is the antithesis of Kirchnerism. His outsider victory in 2023 was an explicit rejection of Kirchnerist economic policies that led to an inflation rate above 100%. Milei鈥檚 economic and social policies are no doubt controversial, and he, himself, produces strongly positive and negative reactions.
His attitude toward Jews and Israel is equally revolutionary.
Milei is philosemitic. He professes a 鈥渇anaticism鈥� for Judaism, reads Torah daily, and has openly mused about converting. While a skeptic might chalk this up as just one of Milei鈥檚 eccentricities, his rapid changes to Argentinian foreign policies are quite tangible. He made a solidarity state visit to Israel after the Oct. 7 attacks. He declared Hamas a terrorist organization鈥攕omething no previous Argentinian government had done. He announced his intent to move the Argentinian embassy to Jerusalem. He also reversed his country鈥檚 longstanding opposition to Israel in the United Nations. Milei has aggressively pursued legal actions against Iran and his domestic predecessors for the bombing of the Israeli embassy in Buenos Aires in 1992 and the AMIA bombing two years later. In recognition, Milei was awarded Israel鈥檚 2025 Genesis Prize in January, the first time the award has ever been given to a head of state.
It is seemingly the best of times for the Jewish community in Buenos Aires. While my wife and I were there, we regularly attended Shabbat evening services, joining some five hundred or more worshippers. Large Chabad menorahs could be seen all over the city during Chanukah, and we attended Chabad鈥檚 outdoor Chanukah party with thousands of people, including numerous public officials.
Sadly, last month, some 15,000 people gathered on short notice to honor the murdered Bibas family after their remains were returned from Gaza to Israel. Milei declared two days of national mourning in honor of the family, who have Argentinian roots. The Bibas children鈥檚 images were massively displayed on the iconic Obelisco, a Washington Monument-like structure in the heart of Buenos Aires.
We befriended a 25-year-old Israeli woman who was traveling the world after her service in the Israel Defense Forces. A typical Israeli, street smart and wary of foreigners following Oct. 7, she said her time in Buenos Aires was unlike anywhere else. She said she had no hesitation about wearing her Magen David or telling taxi drivers or strangers that she was Israeli. When she did, she was invariably greeted with positive responses.
Where else does that happen today? In Amsterdam, there鈥檚 a modern-day pogrom. In Sydney, nurses refuse to treat Israeli patients. In New York City, and throughout the United States, Jewish college students are harassed while school administrators stand idly by. And on and on, from Paris to London to Los Angeles, there鈥檚 one horror story after another.
Back in Buenos Aires, there is gratitude, but also some uneasiness about all of this. The Jews I spoke with all had positive things to say about Milei鈥檚 policies and the new direction of the country. But like in Diaspora communities historically, some worry about becoming the focal point of too much attention. To be Jewish is to worry that bad times lurk just around the corner. Argentina itself has seen such times, from the era in which its government conspired to hide Nazi war criminals to its recent blind eye to Iranian terrorism on its soil. And of course, the longevity of its current government is far from certain.
Nonetheless, while the future is unknowable, the present is clear. It is hard to dispute that Buenos Aires should be considered today鈥檚 capital city of the Jewish Diaspora.