From Malmö to Geneva: Daniel Radomski on Fighting for the Truth at the UN

For Daniel Radomski, the fight against antisemitism isn’t theoretical—it is biographical.

Growing up in Malmö, Sweden, as the child and grandchild of Holocaust survivors, he witnessed firsthand how a safe haven can slowly turn hostile. That early lesson in vigilance took him from Sweden to the IDF and now to Geneva as Chief Strategy and Diplomacy Officer at UN Watch.

In this conversation, Radomski reflects on the “double shock” of October 7, the UN’s structural failures, and why he remains hopeful about the Jewish future.

On Growing Up Jewish in Malmö

“Safety was real but fragile, dependent on the moral confidence of the society providing it.”

FOA: You have written about growing up in Malmö as the child and grandchild of Holocaust survivors and refugees. Could you share a bit about your family story, what it meant to grow up Jewish in Malmö, and how that experience shaped your identity?

DR: For my grandparents who survived the Holocaust, Sweden was never a theory of tolerance or a moral project. It was simply a functioning society that saved them and allowed them to rebuild their lives after the total collapse of their entire world. How they found the strength to do so after extreme loss and trauma, instead turning their focus so decisively toward the future, has always stayed with me.

They felt deep gratitude toward Swedish society, a sentiment I inherited and later passed on to my own children. At the same time, they held a very sober view of Jewish life, as safety was real but fragile, dependent on the moral confidence of the society providing it, and never assumed to be fully stable or permanent.

Inside the home, Jewish life was confident and unselfconscious. Tradition, memory, food, humour, and peoplehood were lived fully. Outside the home, that confidence increasingly met friction, and I was raised with the idea that being safe and separate was preferable to being publicly proud, an assumption I would later question through my own life-choices. Visibility required judgment, and my grandparents’ instruction was that the kippah belonged firmly in the pocket once you left the synagogue.

The lesson was not fear, but vigilance. At the same time, within Jewish life, I was taught that personal engagement is not optional. Everyone must contribute in whatever way they can, using their individual abilities, and take responsibility for the future of a small community. Reinforced by our recent lived experience, we were all guided by Hillel’s words, “If I am not for myself, then who will be?”

“…the key issue is never immigration or diversity. It is moral evasion and a prolonged failure of political clarity, combined with a lack of courageous leadership…”

FOA: Malmö has gone from being a postwar refuge for Jewish survivors to being seen by many as one of the most challenging cities in Europe for Jews, with a large and growing Muslim population. How do you explain that transformation, and what do you think people often misunderstand about the situation on the ground?

DR: Malmö’s story is often reduced to demographic data or generic debates and prejudices about multiculturalism. That framing misses the point, as the key issue is never immigration or diversity. It is moral evasion and a prolonged failure of political clarity, combined with a lack of courageous leadership of the city.

Antisemitism did not enter Malmö simply through migration from the Middle East. It entered public life through identity politics, misplaced indulgence of grievance, bordering on reverse-racism, and a reluctance against confrontation, especially concerning extremist ideology. Instead of addressing this honestly, civic leaders avoided difficult conversations or explained the problem away. As we see daily at the UN in Geneva, the instinct was to avoid conflict, especially when dealing with communities viewed only as victims. Jewish concerns were dismissed as exaggerations or sectoral interests, especially given the postwar success of the Swedish-Jewish community.

Jewish vulnerability and Jew-hatred in Malmö were not accidental. They were the predictable result of repeated decisions not to act and not to draw moral boundaries. Jew-hatred does not require encouragement, it only requires permissive ignorance. This should have been a warning sign for Jewish communities elsewhere, but instead Malmö was treated as an outlier. Today, similar dynamics are confronting Jewish communities far beyond Sweden. This includes my old hometown of New York, where a million-strong Jewish community is now having to face their own democratic socialist-labelled threat, and is increasingly uncertain about its future.

From Identity to Advocacy

“Jewish safety and long-term well-being must ultimately be taken into our own hands, as it cannot be outsourced to the moral conscience of others.”

FOA: At what point did you move from simply living as a Jew in Europe to actively engaging in Jewish advocacy and diplomacy? Was there a particular turning point, perhaps your IDF service or your early leadership roles, that changed how you think about power, security, and responsibility as a Jew today?

DR: Engagement in communal life was part of my Jewish DNA growing up, so there was no single moment of conversion. That said, some experiences clarify realities more forcefully than others. My decision to volunteer for service in the IDF was among the most formative. It made abundantly clear that Jewish safety and long-term well-being must ultimately be taken into our own hands, as it cannot be outsourced to the moral conscience of others. That experience also taught me the true meaning of friendship, trust, and teamwork, lessons I apply every day.

Later, in Jewish leadership roles, I saw how our institutions behave under strain. Narratives harden quickly, and there is a tendency to divide and fracture rather than to focus on active listening and true understanding, which paves the way towards coordination and unity. This was visible during COVID, during confrontations regarding judicial overhaul, and very clearly after October 7, when disagreements soon turned inward just as external pressure intensified.

Inside the UN Watch Mission

FOA: You recently became Chief Strategy and Diplomacy Officer at UN Watch. What does this role mean in your day-to-day work, and what were the first strategic questions you felt needed to be addressed when you joined?

DR: Strategically, we must recognise that we are operating in a structurally deficient setting. The United Nations is not accidentally biased. With a minority of democracies among its member states, operating on a one-state-one-vote principle, the system is dominated by regimes that do not apply human rights to their own populations. Within this reality, success is not winning votes that were never winnable. It is measured by the truth being told, and whether democratic states stand up, are counted, and place facts on the record in an environment otherwise prone to whitewashing falsehoods, including those originating from terrorist organisations or totalitarian regimes.

I believe that there is still benefit to the multilateral system and the area of dialogue that the UN provides. However, this also requires good nations to actually do good. Far too often, nations prefer to go along to get along, where they confuse silence with balance and consensus with principle. Day-to-day, this means sustained and regular engagement with diplomats in Geneva, whilst applying UN Watch’s detailed research and policy recommendations on key issues, such as the need to defund UNRWA and the highly politicised mandate executed by Francesca Albanese, assessed against core UN charter principles such as universality, equality, and good faith, that are regularly ignored in daily practice.

“The goal isn’t to find people who think exactly like us, but to be clear on the issues that actually matter.”

FOA: You have spent years building global Jewish networks. How are you bringing that experience into UN Watch’s work in Geneva and beyond, for example when you decide which battles to focus on at the UN and how to mobilize allies around them?

DR: Years of building global Jewish networks have shaped how I think about prioritisation, judgment, and long-term commitment. In Jewish communal life, resources are finite and attention is limited, which means not every issue can be fought simultaneously or in the same way. That experience informs how I think about mobilising allies, focusing effort where it can genuinely enable others to act, rather than seeking visibility for its own sake.

Building networks teaches you that partnerships are rarely simple. In places like the UN, you won’t find allies who agree with you 100% of the time. The goal isn’t to find people who think exactly like us, but to be clear on the issues that actually matter. You have to know where it’s worth spending your energy. This is a long game. That’s why we invest in relationships with young diplomats—they have influence today, and they will be the decision-makers of tomorrow.

“…they migrate to social media, to our streets and campuses, and into real-world violence and death, as we have recently seen in Washington, Manchester, and Sydney. This is why our engagement at the UN is not optional.”

FOA: Many people see the UN as structurally hostile to Israel. From your viewpoint, where do you see genuine allies for Israel and the Jewish people inside the UN system, and where do you see more performative or hostile actors using human rights language against us? How do you personally balance moral outrage with long-term strategy when facing those double standards?

DR: The UN is often described as if it had a single will or voice. However, this is an ecosystem that must be understood on its own terms, and it contains both contradictions and opportunities. It is also essential to distinguish between UN officials, diplomats in Geneva, and decision-makers in national capitals, as authority and room for manoeuvre vary significantly.

There are diplomats and officials within the system that are genuine allies, though they are rarely the most visible. Many privately recognise the distortions in UN discourse on Israel but operate under constraints. Their support is often expressed quietly through precision of language, procedural resistance, or refusal to endorse claims unsupported by fact, and such victories should certainly not be underestimated.

What makes the UN particularly consequential strategically for Israel and the Jewish people, is that what begins here certainly does not end here. When claims originating with Hamas and terrorist actors are laundered into UN findings, they acquire institutional legitimacy and are repeated by media, NGOs, and activists as settled fact. From there, they migrate to social media, to our streets and campuses, and into real-world violence and death, as we have recently seen in Washington, Manchester, and Sydney. This is why our engagement at the UN is not optional. Walking away would surrender the language of human rights to those most eager to distort it to our grave detriment.

The Moral Catastrophe of October 7

“We must become October 8-Jews, and not continue to operate according to the assumptions of October 6.”

FOA: You probably remember, like all of us, exactly where you were on the morning of October 7. You have called it the worst day for the Jewish people since the Holocaust. Did that day change your work and worldview, or did it mainly confirm concerns you already had?

DR: October 7 introduced a new reality, but one that also confirmed, with brutal clarity, dynamics that had been building for some time. Since October 7, I have said repeatedly that we must become October 8-Jews, and not continue to operate according to the assumptions of October 6.

The scale and brutality of the attack, and the agony of the hostages and their loved ones, shattered long-standing assumptions about deterrence and security. It made unmistakably clear that Israel must reassert its most fundamental responsibility, to ensure the safety of its citizens effectively and unconditionally. The aftermath in the diaspora was shocking, but it was not unexpected. Within days, senior Jewish leaders were warning publicly of a sharp and immediate rise in local Jew-hatred beyond Israel itself, which had followed immediately. Condemnation of the massacre was brief and conditional, quickly overtaken by justification, relativisation, and the reframing of mass-murder due to political considerations.

What October 7 ultimately confirmed is that for many actors, Israel and Jews are not being judged for what we do, but for who we are. When Jews act to protect themselves, the objection is not to a tactic or a decision, but to the very premise that Jews are entitled to defend their lives, and survive also in dire circumstances. October 7 was therefore not only a human catastrophe, but a moral one. It exposed, now without any disguise or pretence, the persistence of a world in which Jewish survival remains conditional, and in which violence against Jews is still too readily rationalised when Jews refuse to be passive.

“The assumption that Jew-hatred is relegated to the margins, socially unacceptable and contained by post-war norms, proved complacent.”

FOA: You often speak about the “double shock” for diaspora Jews, first the massacre itself, and then the reactions on the streets and on campuses. How did you experience that double shock personally, and what did it reveal to you about Europe and beyond?

DR: The first shock was the violence itself. The second, and in many ways more destabilising, was the reaction to it. For many Jews in the diaspora, the horror of October 7 was followed not by surprise, but by recognition, a sense that a familiar pattern was already reasserting itself. Condemnation proved brief and conditional, while grief was quickly displaced by lectures about context, proportionality, and restraint, producing a moral sequence that was fundamentally inverted.

That inversion was visible not only on the streets and on campuses, but confirmed at the highest institutional levels. When the UN Secretary-General stated on 24 October 2023 that the attacks by Hamas did not happen in a vacuum, many Jews understood immediately how such framing would be received across diaspora communities, regardless of any accompanying formal condemnation.

What this revealed was how fragile Jewish belonging still is in Western societies. The assumption that Jew-hatred is relegated to the margins, socially unacceptable and contained by post-war norms, proved complacent. The problematic Arab street did not disappear, it moved to New York, Paris, London, and Sydney, and with particular intensity on campuses, where basic standards of critical thinking and civil disagreement collapsed.

At the same time, it revealed something else in terms of the Jewish response. The most serious and clear-eyed retort came from younger Jewish leaders who stepped forward decisively, publicly, and without apology. Their refusal to retreat, and their insistence on clarity rather than accommodation, has been one of the most important and hopeful developments since October 7, which also give me a clear sense of optimism for our future.

Social Media & Narrative Warfare

FOA: When you look at October 7 and the war that followed, what role do you think social media played before, during, and after the attack? From your perspective, what are the most dangerous narratives or myths about Israel and Jews that are now becoming mainstream on platforms such as X, TikTok, and Instagram?

DR: Social media did not merely reflect events surrounding October 7, it shaped perception in real time. The architecture of these platforms rewards speed, certainty, and emotional intensity, while complexity is penalised, and the platforms are open to external manipulation from harmful actors. In such an environment, shocking images travel faster than verified facts, and narratives that reduce reality to easily digestible moral binaries spread further than those that require context, legal distinction, or the ability to hold more than one thought in mind at the same time.

In my view, the most dangerous narratives are not the fringe conspiracies, but simplified natural assumptions spread across social media that have entered our mainstream, and are now treated as self-evident in cafés and at kitchen tables worldwide. Descriptions that receive official UN moral legitimacy, that would have been unthinkable to share only two years ago, are now framed as moral virtue. Jewish self-determination and self-defence are portrayed as fundamentally malicious. As a result of this social media-fueled mainstreaming, Jew-hating narratives no longer appear as hatred at all, but are seen as legitimate.

Jewish Visibility & Resilience

“Jewish confidence, expressed calmly and without apology, establishes boundaries, signals self-respect, and makes clear that Zionist Jewish identity is not a conditional presence.”

FOA: Many young Jews say they feel outnumbered and targeted online when they show Jewish pride or speak up for Israel. What would you tell a 19-year-old Jewish student who is afraid to post a Magen David or an Israeli flag? And on a personal level, how do you respond when you encounter antisemitism, where do you draw the line between engaging with someone who is misinformed and walking away from open hatred, and how do you look after your own emotional resilience in this work?

DR: Fear at this moment is understandable, but it cannot be allowed to become a governing principle. Being openly Jewish, including a close and fundamental connection with Israel, should never be treated as a provocation, and the idea that Jewish safety depends on responding to our fear by way of silence has never held throughout Jewish history, and it does not hold now.

What I would advise a 19-year-old on a university campus is that true morality means being able to hold more than one truth in mind at the same time. You can care deeply about Israel’s security and the protection of Jewish life, and you can care sincerely about Palestinian civilians and human suffering, without allowing others to frame those concerns as mutually exclusive, and intellectual complexity is not a weakness.

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks said that people respect Jews that respect themselves and their Judaism, and that insight is particularly relevant now. Jewish confidence, expressed calmly and without apology, establishes boundaries, signals self-respect, and makes clear that Zionist Jewish identity is not a conditional presence to be negotiated on someone else’s terms.

On a personal level, investing my energy wisely is important to me. I distinguish between ignorance and hostility, because the two require very different responses. Ignorance can often be met with patience, of which I have a lot, as well as with clarity and facts to be able to move the needle.

It is important to understand that not every provocation requires engagement, and not every silence constitutes retreat.

What Gives Daniel Hope

FOA: FOA focuses on monitoring and fighting online antisemitism. From your position at UN Watch, what do you see as the most valuable contribution NGOs like FOA can make to the global fight against antisemitism? And as someone who has seen Jewish communities in crisis and in renewal, what gives you hope after October 7, and what message would you like to send to our FOA volunteers, activists, and readers around the world?

DR: Organisations like FOA provide moral clarity over time. Jew-hatred today accumulates, normalises, and embeds itself through repetition, language, and the steady erosion of moral boundaries. By tracking it consistently and refusing to let incidents be dismissed as noise, FOA helps ensure that patterns are recognised early and taken seriously. Much of what circulates today presents itself as activism stripped of context and distinction. Monitoring is therefore not about volume, but about meaning, about showing how rhetoric travels, how it shapes perception, and how it ultimately affects Jewish life offline as well as online.

What gives me hope after October 7 is the response and engagement of amazing people, in particular younger Jews, stepping forward with seriousness, confidence, and a refusal to retreat into silence. Many of them understood instinctively that becoming less visible does not produce safety, and that Jewish identity carried openly and calmly is not a liability, but a source of both individual and communal strength.

To FOA’s volunteers, activists, and readers, the message is that your work sits proudly within the pages of a longer Jewish story. Jewish life has endured not because it made itself smaller under pressure, but because it insisted on its legitimacy and carried itself with self-respect. When Jews are confident in who they are and refuse to apologise for their presence, others adjust accordingly. That principle matters now as much as ever, it is the discipline behind any serious effort to confront Jew-hatred in all its forms, and to secure a thriving Jewish future.

Take Action

Daniel Radomski teaches us that “monitoring is not about volume, but about meaning”.

Stay Informed: Follow the work of UN Watch as they expose bias in Geneva.
Join the Fight: Help FOA track and remove online hate before it becomes real-world violence.