Introduction: An Unlikely Advocate
Sandra Boix stands out in the fight against antisemitism because of everything she is not.
She is not Jewish. She did not grow up hearing stories from Holocaust survivors or seeing Israeli flags in her home. She is Spanish, and her country’s government is now one of Israel’s strongest critics in the West. Spain has used the word “genocide” in public statements, canceled contracts with Israeli companies, joined the case against Israel at the International Court of Justice, and its Deputy Prime Minister has supported the slogan “from the river to the sea.” Some people have even described Spain as the first example of state-level antisemitism in the European Union.
Sandra no longer lives in Spain. She now lives in Glasgow, Scotland, which has its own challenges. Scotland’s Jewish community is small, with fewer than 5,000 people, making up less than 0.1% of the population. Still, in 2024, Jews were the target of 17% of all religiously motivated hate crimes in the country.
This is the reality Sandra faces each day. She felt confused by the many conflicting opinions around her and realized she needed to learn more to better understand her own feelings.
Sandra joined FOA’s Digital Warriors Academy, Palm Beach Group, not because she had to, but because she felt driven to do something. What she saw on October 7th, 2023, and afterward, changed her life in ways she never expected. We spoke with her to hear her story in her own words.
From Spain to Scotland: A Journey Shaped by Chance
Thank you for sharing your story, Sandra. Could you describe your background and what motivated your move from Spain to Scotland?
Thank you so much, Dina. The financial crisis of 2008 in Spain made me consider that perhaps I should learn English, so I came to the UK, first to Birmingham and then to Scotland. Then I met someone, had my son, and I just stayed. Let’s say it was more by pure chance than an actual decision.
Here, I studied for my degree in International Relations while working. I have always had an interest in global issues, geopolitics, and conflicts. Politically, I identified as a leftist and was actively involved in many causes — from political issues in Spain to animal rights activism, among others.
Before October 7: Distance, History, and Assumptions
Prior to October 7th, did you feel any connection to the Jewish community or to Israel? Were you previously aware of antisemitism, and has your perspective changed since then?
Prior to October 7th, I did not have any special connection to the Jewish people or to Israel. I had been to Poland and Germany a few times, visited camps and museums, and of course, you think — that was terrible. But it felt like something from the past, something we had already moved on from. As for Israel, I really didn’t have an opinion, just like I don’t have an opinion about, let’s say, Denmark. It was simply one more country on Earth.
As I mentioned, I was a leftist, and I knew the narrative on that side: There was this country, Palestine, and then the Jews, after the Holocaust, went there, kicked the Palestinians out, stole their houses, and built a country on their land. There was always something about that narrative that didn’t quite sit right with me — but it wasn’t something that really bothered me at the time. I wasn’t really aware of how deeply that narrative shaped the way people saw this conflict, or how much it would influence what I would witness later.
Then, October 7th happened. I think that day, I really did not understand what was going on, but the morning of October 8th is when I saw the videos. I was horrified. That family in the kitchen. That girl in the back of the truck. The babies with their mother. The girl being separated from her boyfriend on a motorcycle. The girl with the bloodied pants. (I later learned their names and their stories.)
And I saw Palestinians celebrating. I remembered seeing celebrations on 9/11 while the world watched in horror as the towers fell. And there I was again, watching in disbelief. For days I could not sleep and could not stop crying — not only for the horror of what happened in Israel, but because I discovered a hatred I did not know still existed at this scale. I saw the silence of my “social justice” friends. I saw many of them liking or sharing posts while bodies and hostages were still being counted. People were celebrating in the streets, and I kept asking myself: What has happened to the world? Have we gone crazy overnight? Am I alone in feeling this way?
From that day on, everything changed for me. I have never seen the world the same way again, and I have never seen most of the people I know the same way either. I lost my political identity, which left me feeling politically “homeless.” It is almost as if everything I believed in died that day.
Since then, I became an advocate for the hostages — thankfully all released now — for Israel, and more broadly for the Jewish people. I am not a saviour, of course, but I believe that what the world is doing to the Jewish people, again, in less than 100 years, is one of the greatest injustices of my generation. And I believe that, as a human being, I have a duty to fight against that injustice, and against the lies and disinformation that surround it.
What motivated you to participate in the FOA workshop? Is there a particular fact or tool from the workshop that you find yourself sharing with others?
I wanted to do something — more than just share posts on social media. I also have a private account and only accept people I actually know, so my reach is quite limited. I wanted to learn more about antisemitism (I had also taken a couple of courses from Yad Vashem before), and that’s when I discovered FOA and these workshops, which have been amazing.
I remember that when we introduced ourselves, someone said they would never have imagined, when they were young, that they would one day have to live through something like this. As the only non-Jewish person in the group, I had not personally experienced antisemitism and didn’t even realize it still existed at this level. But I think many of us shared the same feeling of disbelief. Even if you are Jewish and have experienced antisemitism before, I imagine you never expected it to reach this point — so normalized in society and institutions, met with such passivity from authorities. It is frightening.
One of the things that scares me most is that I generally do not surround myself with bad people. Yet many of them cannot see that what they are doing is wrong. They genuinely believe they are standing up for oppressed people — and I understand that impulse. But sometimes it feels as though they have fallen into a kind of groupthink that has taken away their ability to think critically.
My view is that much of what drives the “Free Palestine” movement, as it has been expressed since October 7th, is not really about building a future for Palestinians — it is about hatred of Jews and Israel. The loudest voices in that movement are not calling for coexistence. That distinction matters.
I do not deny that Palestinians are, in fact, victims of a destructive ideology, indoctrination from an early age, bad leadership, the policies of surrounding Arab countries, and the failures of international institutions, including UNRWA. History has been twisted and manipulated, and many Palestinians genuinely believe things that are simply not true. Human suffering is always tragic. But this conflict is far more complex than the simple “oppressed versus oppressor” narrative that is so often presented.
How did you first encounter antisemitism online? Did you respond or report it? Since then, what has most surprised you about its presence online and in daily life?
It was the day after October 7th. I called out a friend who posted a video of some Jewish kids spitting at Christians with the caption, “Jews are the most racist.” I texted her and said: “Do you really think that’s appropriate? After the worst terrorist attack since 9/11? Are you serious?” She deleted the post — but later continued spreading similar content. At one point she even admitted to me, “Well, I probably don’t know enough. I wish I had time to read a book about it.” I told her: “But you were quick to share antisemitic content without knowing anything about the topic.” Today, we no longer speak.
Jewish people make up less than 0.1% of Scotland’s population, yet they were the target of 17% of all religiously-motivated hate crimes in 2024. As someone living in Scotland, what is the day-to-day atmosphere like?
The situation in Scotland is deeply troubling — though I am afraid it is not very different from many other Western cities in recent years. There have been weekly marches since October 7th, every single Saturday. They were not calling for the release of the hostages or for coexistence. They still gather every week in front of a Barclays bank, harassing clients while police stand by to protect the building — police who could arguably be focused on more pressing issues. And they stand there with posters accusing Israel of apartheid and genocide, and with images of children whose stories were later found to be misrepresented or taken out of context to support false claims of famine.
For a while, there were also hybrid Palestinian–Scottish flags hanging on streets all over the city. I cannot imagine what it must feel like to be Jewish in Scotland and have to see your national flag displayed alongside the flag of a movement that openly calls for your destruction. It took the city council a long time to remove them, and some were simply forgotten.
More recently, the Free Palestine crowd has started harassing Iranians who gather weekly in peaceful protest — showing up and waving Palestinian flags alongside flags of the Iranian regime. It is deeply disturbing.
And let’s not even talk about the media — especially the BBC, the state broadcaster that we all pay for and that is supposed to be neutral.
Have you experienced any negative reactions or pressure as a result of your support?
Not exactly pressure. I have never really cared much about what people think, but more a lack of understanding. Some people look at me and think: you’re not Israeli, you’re not even Jewish, so why do you care? It’s not your fight. But when I see injustice, lies, propaganda, and sometimes pure hatred, it becomes my fight too.
People share an “All Eyes on Rafah” post and feel good about themselves. Fine, If that makes them feel better. But the reality is that this isn’t a trend. Sharing a post will not “free Palestine,” whatever that slogan is supposed to mean. What it does is amplify hatred and contribute to real consequences for Jews around the world — consequences we have already seen, including real violence against Jewish communities in cities across Europe and beyond.
I just cannot stand by as an observer.
Spain has a complex history with Jewish people, including the Inquisition and the expulsion of Sephardic Jews in 1492. Does that history influence your perspective on antisemitism today?
Not directly. I have been living in the UK for 13 years now, so I feel somewhat disconnected from what is happening in Spain. From what I can see, though, things are not good. We currently have a government that is openly and proudly hostile toward Israel and the Jewish community — contributing directly to incitement. There have been calls encouraging protests when Israeli athletes compete in sports events, and messages displayed during Israel’s performance at the Eurovision Song Contest. These are only two examples of many. So overall, I would say that when it comes to antisemitism, history has not taught Spain as much as it should have.
You’ve offered to help translate FOA’s materials into Spanish. What do you think Spanish-speaking communities need to understand about antisemitism that they may not currently know?
I cannot speak about Latin America in detail, as I don’t know the situation there well enough. In Spain, though, I think the starting point is personal distance — most Spanish people have simply never met a Jewish person. I have only known one Jewish person in my entire life before this. When you don’t know anyone personally, you simply believe what you are told. And in Spain, what you are told is often one-sided.
My advice to anyone, in any language, is this: please do not blindly trust the media. Check your sources. If your source is Al Jazeera, check who funds it. Check the ideology of the publications you read. The truth usually lies somewhere between extremes. And please, do not give yourself entirely over to groupthink. I know it is scary to distance yourself from a crowd when everyone expects you to think a certain way — we all want to belong — but sometimes stepping back is the only way to see clearly and think for yourself.
Ask yourself: Why this obsession with this particular cause? Why didn’t the same outrage happen over other conflicts? Would I be advocating this way if the victims or perpetrators were a different group? Were the events of October 7th wrong — and if so, why did I ever see them as justified? Ask yourself these questions honestly, and you may start to notice biases you didn’t see before.
And always remember: what you say or share online has real consequences in real people’s lives.
Has this experience changed you personally — your worldview, your relationships, or how you spend your time?
Yes — everything. My relationships, my political views, and how I spend my time: studying antisemitism, following reliable news, and debating this topic with people in my life. I lost friends along the way, but I also met new people who share my values and principles — and even made a few Jewish friends too.
But I must be honest: sometimes I miss the world before October 7th, and the person I was then. Especially the naivety and the ability to simply see the good in people.
Thank you so much for the opportunity to share things I haven’t told anyone before.
Sandra Boix is a participant in FOA’s Digital Warriors Academy — Palm Beach Group. She lives in Glasgow, Scotland.