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No, Michael Jackson Wasn’t an Antisemite — But Some Sure Wanted You to Think He Was
- MJStory
- 3 days ago
- 16 min read
Updated: 15 hours ago
Was Michael Jackson an Antisemite?
The recurring allegation that Michael Jackson was antisemitic has been floating for decades — vague at first, then evolving into a full-blown myth and widespread misconception. It’s been used by detractors to stir public outrage, further demonize and dehumanize him, and cast him as a moral outcast in the eyes of the public. More recently, those claims have also been co-opted by conspiracy theorists and fringe groups who falsely use Jackson’s name to validate their own hateful ideologies.
All it takes is an out-of-context quote, a cherry-picked lyric, or a doctored soundbite to ignite controversy — and even make it appear organic. In Jackson’s case, these flare-ups often lacked substance and ignored the facts — sometimes — oftentimes — it seems, deliberately.
So where did these accusations come from? Was there ever anything real behind them? Or is this just another case of collective memory clinging to a story that was never true in the first place?
In short: No, Michael Jackson was not an antisemite. There’s absolutely no credible evidence to support the claim. Like many other rumors surrounding him, it relies on misquotes, media distortions, and moments taken out of context. When you look at the full picture — his actions, his relationships, and his values — the accusation simply doesn’t hold up. If anything, Jackson consistently demonstrated empathy, respect, and a deep concern for human suffering, including that of the Jewish people.
Rumors First, Evidence Later – or Never
It’s hard to pinpoint exactly when the rumors of antisemitism around Michael Jackson began. They seem to have circulated as early as the 1980s — vague, sourceless, and untethered to any specific incident. Perhaps they stemmed from speculation about other members of the Jackson family (a point we’ll revisit later).
Over time, though, those rumors weren’t just repeated — they were amplified. Framed to cast doubt on Jackson’s values and intentions, they were sometimes used to drive a wedge between him and the Jewish community — or the broader public. Whether to play into cultural or ideological battles, to undermine his standing within entertainment industry, or simply because accusations of bigotry were an easy way to discredit and vilify a global figure like Jackson, the effect was the same.
The notion lingered, filling the vacuum left by how little the public truly knew about Jackson’s private world — who he worked with, who he trusted, and what he believed. But it wasn’t until the mid-1990s and early 2000s that these vague impressions began to harden into pointed accusations — most of them rooted in misunderstandings, exaggerations, or deliberate misrepresentation.
Michael Jackson, The First Visitor of the Museum of Tolerance
In February 1993, Michael Jackson became the very first visitor to the Museum of Tolerance (MOT) — also known in Hebrew as Beit HaShoah (“House of the Holocaust”) — at the Simon Wiesenthal Center in Los Angeles. The museum hadn’t yet opened to the public. Jackson asked to visit privately, without press or publicity, while the exhibits were still being finalized.
The tour focused on racism in America and the history of the Holocaust. According to Rabbi Marvin Hier, a founder of the museum who personally accompanied Jackson, the visit lasted two and a half hours. “He left clearly deeply moved and brought to tears by the overwhelming experience,” Hier later recalled.
This wasn’t a PR stunt. There were no cameras, no press releases, no photo ops. Jackson initiated the visit out of personal interest — and those present saw how profoundly it affected him.
The visit wasn’t made public until years later. But even in silence, it spoke volumes. It’s difficult to reconcile that with the accusations of antisemitism that would later surface. A person with antisemitic beliefs doesn’t request a private tour of a Holocaust museum — let alone leave in tears. That visit stands as a quiet but meaningful reflection of Jackson’s emotional connection and sensitivity to historical trauma and human suffering.
His engagement with the subject didn’t stop there. About a year and a half later, while working on his HIStory album, Jackson encouraged his production team to visit the museum as well. According to producer Dallas Austin, Jackson wanted them to internalize the emotional gravity behind the themes in his music.
“You go through gas chambers… people are crying when you’re leaving out of there, because it’s heavy,” Austin recalled. When they returned, they asked Jackson why he had sent them. His answer was simple:
“Because that’s the emotion I want on this album, in this record.”
They Don’t Care About Us – From Protest to Scandal
If there was a moment when accusations of antisemitism hit hardest, it was in 1995 — with the release of “They Don’t Care About Us” from the HIStory album. What Jackson intended as a fierce protest against racism and inequality was reframed as its opposite — and not by accident. The backlash began even before the song reached the public.
On June 15, 1995 — one day before the album’s release — a New York Times article by Bernard Weinraub triggered a media storm. It focused on a single lyric:
“Jew me, sue me / everybody do me / Kick me, kike me / don’t you black or white me.”
Stripped of context — seemingly with deliberate intent — and presented without any explanation of the song’s purpose, the line was framed as antisemitic. The article shaped public perception before the track was even heard.
Public outrage followed swiftly. Some Jewish organizations condemned the lyrics and demanded the track be pulled — in some cases before even hearing it in full. Jackson, stunned by the intensity of the reaction, quickly clarified that the song was a protest against hate — not an endorsement of it:
“The idea that these lyrics could be deemed objectionable is extremely hurtful… The song is about the pain of prejudice and hate.”
Later, in a separate statement, he added:
“I’m the skinhead, I’m the Jew, I’m the Black man, I’m the White man… I could never be a racist. I love all races.”
Despite his clarification, Jackson was pressured to apologize, revise the lyrics, and release a censored version.
Rabbi Marvin Hier of the Museum of Tolerance emerged as one of the most prominent voices criticizing the song. He specifically warned that the lyrics could negatively influence young listeners and might even reintroduce the slur “kike” into their vocabulary.
It’s worth noting that the terms in question — particularly “kike” — are generally considered offensive. While largely outdated and rarely used, they carry a history of antisemitic rhetoric. In that sense, the backlash wasn’t entirely without basis. But context matters. Jackson wasn’t endorsing hate speech in this song — which included other charged or identity-based phrases ("Skinhead, deadhead"; "Black man, black mail"; "Throw the brother in jail") — he was reflecting it, holding up a mirror to the language of prejudice, not joining in.
While Rabbi Hier ultimately accepted Jackson’s apology and rejected the claim that Jackson was an antisemite, he still criticized Jackson’s advisers — suggesting they should have flagged the lyrics in advance.
But perhaps that’s exactly the point. Not everyone in the Jewish community saw the song the same way — and not all of Jackson’s Jewish peers believed there was anything to flag.
Some of the most prominent Jewish voices in entertainment interpreted the lyrics not as an attack, but as a reflection of the very prejudice Jackson was condemning.
Jackson’s longtime manager Sandy Gallin said:
“When I heard those lyrics, I thought they were brilliant… The song is about not being prejudiced. To take two lines out of context is unfair.”
David Geffen added:
“There’s not one iota of antisemitism in Michael… At worst, sometimes he’s naïve.”
The public largely fell into three groups: those who were genuinely offended, those who understood the song’s intent, and those who insisted on misunderstanding it — and used the moment to their advantage.
There’s no doubt Jackson was unintentionally swept into the peak of a larger cultural clash. Jewish and African American political organizations were locked in escalating tensions, each accusing the other of racism. Jackson had aimed to speak out against discrimination — but found himself pulled into a conflict he evidently never intended to enter.
Meanwhile, critics and tabloids were eager to watch him stumble into another scandal — just in time for his new album. The media coverage focused not on the broader message of the song, but on attacking Jackson himself.
And if the issue was truly about the use of specific words — without regard for context or intent — then why weren’t other works or artists held to the same standard?
And so, the backlash also revealed a deeper double standard in the media. Jackson’s use of provocative language was scrutinized in ways other artists were routinely spared. Director Spike Lee, who filmed two short films for the song, called out the hypocrisy:
“Nobody attacked John Lennon for using the N-word. Quentin Tarantino uses it dozens of times with no backlash. Why is Jackson the one forced to apologize?”
Despite the scandal, the song went on to become one of Jackson’s most powerful and enduring protest anthems — including in Israel. While some media voices tried to frame it as offensive, audiences around the world — including many Jewish listeners — graspped exactly what Jackson meant: not endorsing hate, but calling it out.
That question remains. Was there ever a sincere public conversation about antisemitism and meaning, or was this just another opportunity for the media to turn the public against Jackson?
In the end, this wasn’t just about a slur — or even a song. It was about how easy it is to weaponize misunderstanding — and how hard it is to unstick a label once the media runs with it.
Michael Jackson’s Visit to Israel
In 1993, Michael Jackson made a unique and meaningful stop in Israel — amid a wave of terrorism, violence, and ongoing regional strife, but also real hope for peace with Jordan. While many global artists avoided the region altogether, Jackson showed up — fully present, curious, and unafraid to connect.
Dressed in an honorary Israeli navy uniform, he visited hospitals where he met with both Jewish and Arab children. He also visited an IDF training base for female officers, where he was greeted with a ceremonial welcome. Between sold-out concerts, he took time to explore key cultural and historical landmarks — including Masada and the ancient City of David in Jerusalem.
Crowds gathered in the streets to catch a glimpse of him. Israeli fans — secular, religious, young, old, Jewish, Arab — welcomed him with a kind of fervor unmatched by any international star.
His time in Israel reflected a humanitarian worldview — one that saw art, and music in particular, as a tool for bringing people together.
Jackson was not a political figure and rarely expressed overt political opinions. As he often described it himself, his worldview was spiritual, rooted in compassion and humanity. It’s evident he grasped the region’s complexity and approached it with quiet sensitivity — both in action and art.
One of his clearest and most famous references to the Middle East appeared in “Earth Song,” a sweeping humanitarian anthem written in the early 1990s. In it, he asks:
“What about the Holy Land? Torn apart by creed.”
It was a line of sorrow, not condemnation — a recognition of pain, not blame. In that moment, as in many others, Jackson’s message came not rooted in politics, but in genuine empathy.
Confronting Prejudice at Home: Michael Jackson’s Private Stand Against Antisemitism
Jackson’s empathy wasn’t limited to public visits or lyrical gestures — it extended into his private life, even when that meant confronting those closest to him. His belief in tolerance and rejection of antisemitism weren’t abstract ideals, but values he acted on.
In her 1991 autobiography, LaToya Jackson described moments when she and Michael spoke out against antisemitic remarks within their own family. While the memoir came from a place of family conflict, it makes one thing clear: Michael didn’t stay silent in the face of prejudice and antisemitism.
“Every time someone made an antisemitic remark in our presence, Michael and I would immediately put them in their place,” she writes, adding that the two of them saw this issue very differently from their parents. Michael, who went to school with many Jewish students, did not just object to racism — he saw the Jewish people as an example of resilience, solidarity, and overcoming obstacles. As LaToya recounted in her memoir: “We are minorities, and so are the Jews. Look what they have done. They suffered so much, but united and made such progress. Why we, as a race, can't do the same?” he told their mother, in an attempt to change her view.
The rumors LaToya touches on in her book — and possibly confirms — along with other family members’ known associations with controversial figures and organizations (especially Jermaine Jackson’s connection to Nation of Islam and Louis Farrakhan), may have contributed to the antisemitism accusations directed at Michael Jackson. However, LaToya debunks those rumors when it comes to her brother.
Even if her recollections are taken with a grain of salt, her emphasis on Michael’s opposition to antisemitism is meaningful. Not only did he hold those views — he actively confronted prejudice when it surfaced around him, driven by a deep belief in equality and the power of unity to overcome adversity.
“They do It on Purpose” – The Doctored Tapes
In 2005, two of Michael Jackson’s former business associates — Dieter Wiesner and Marc Schaffel — sued him for millions.
Around the same time, Schaffel appeared on Good Morning America and played excerpts of phone calls and voicemails Jackson had left for him and Wiesner. These recordings were presented as damning — but they were anything but honest. Entire sentences were cut, rearranged, or removed — on average, the messages were shortened by 80%, warping their meaning beyond recognition.
In one example, an edited clip made Jackson sound like he was frantically demanding large sums of cash for what seemed like a shady international deal. In reality, the original message referred to a deposit for a music project.
But the clip that sparked the most backlash was one in which Jackson allegedly said: “They suck them like leeches… The Jews do it on purpose!”
News outlets rushed to publish the quote. Jewish organizations issued statements of outrage. The message went viral and quickly became a centerpiece in the narrative that Jackson was allegedly antisemitic..
There was just one problem: Jackson never said it.
When the full, unedited transcript was revealed during legal proceedings, it became clear that the quote had been doctored. The word “Jews” never appeared. The message, addressed to Wiesner, was a general rant about exploitative practices in the music business:
“So many people, when they see talent — God-given talent — they suck them like leeches. I am so tired of it. They start out the most popular person in the world, make a lot of money, big house, cars and everything, and end up penniless. They do it on purpose.”
What had been a vague frustration with the industry was turned — deliberately — into a slur. The edit didn’t just change a word. It created an entirely new sentence, an entirely new meaning, and an entirely false scandal.
To this day, it’s unclear who was responsible for the manipulation — whether it was done by Schaffel and Wiesner, or by the TV producers themselves. But the motive seems obvious: by portraying Jackson as offensive and unstable, they strengthened their position in a lawsuit and poisoned public opinion against him at the same time.
Years later, after the lawsuits faded, both men walked back their claims without fanfare. Wiesner in his memoir, described that same voicemail as ‘warm and heartfelt,’ with no mention of any slurs. Schaffel — a Jewish man himself — tried to rejoin Jackson’s business orbit after the scandal cooled.
"Leaving Neverland" – The Exploitive Use of the Holocaust
It wasn’t the last time Jackson was falsely linked to antisemitism for legal or financial gain. Even years after his death, the documentary Leaving Neverland reintroduced the accusation — not through words, but through a manipulative visual cue.
In one scene, Jackson is shown looking toward a TV screen displaying an image of Adolf Hitler — likely from a historical documentary, framed as if they’re facing each other. There’s no context, no explanation, no relevance. Yet the implication is chillingly clear: a link is being drawn between Jackson and Hitler.
This wasn’t careless editing. It was a calculated move — a subliminal attempt to associate Jackson with one of history’s greatest monsters without ever saying it aloud.
After all, millions of people have watched documentaries about World War II and the Holocaust. That doesn’t mean they sympathize with Hitler. But in a film meticulously crafted to vilify Jackson, that fleeting image served a subliminally dark purpose.
It wasn’t evidence to support the allegations in Leaving Neverland — it was emotional manipulation. A visual trap designed to depict Jackson as monstrous.
Whether meant to imply admiration or draw a grotesque comparison, the effect was the same: a cheap, manipulative association planted in silence.
There was nothing accidental about it. This was editorial manipulation — exploiting the Holocaust to deepen the attack and manufacture guilt by association. It stands as one of the clearest examples of how far some were willing to go to vilify Jackson.
Not just dishonest — it's cynical and dangerous.
Jackson’s “Misunderstood” Take on Hitler
In 2011, Rabbi Shmuley Boteach published a book compiling private conversations he had with Michael Jackson in the early 2000s. One excerpt — stripped of context in the press — sparked headlines accusing Jackson of admiring the Nazi leader. In that recording, Jackson remarked: “Hitler was a genius orator… [able] to make that many people turn and change and hate.”
But Jackson wasn’t praising Hitler. He was analyzing the mechanics of mass persuasion — and why it’s so dangerous — noting how Hitler studied and manipulated his audience “the way an entertainer would.” It was part of a broader philosophical discussion with Boteach, as Jackson tried to understand how one man could lead so many toward hatred.
Rabbi Boteach, who knew Jackson well, later emphasized that “Michael despised what Hitler had done,” calling Jackson’s reflections “insightful.” Jackson was visibly shaken while discussing the Holocaust and the deaths of children, telling Boteach: “When I found out the count of how many children in the Holocaust alone died… What man can do something like that? I don’t understand that at all.” Later, he added: “I feel horrible about it. I wish somebody could have reached their hearts.”
He wasn’t sympathizing with Hitler — he was expressing a belief, perhaps idealistic, that even hatred might be overcome with compassion and understanding.
Historians and Holocaust institutions have echoed similar insights. Scholars like Yehuda Bauer, Ian Kershaw, and Alan Bullock — along with institutions such as Yad Vashem and the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum — have all acknowledged Hitler’s disturbing talent for mass persuasion. Recognizing his oratorical skill is not uncommon; it’s part of understanding how propaganda helped fuel one of history’s greatest atrocities. Jackson’s comment wasn’t controversial to anyone familiar with history — only to those determined to misread it.
Recognizing an evil skill isn’t the same as endorsing evil — and Jackson’s remarks reflected that nuance clearly. Anyone with a basic sense of context or common sense could see the difference between analyzing Hitler’s tactics and admiring him. But the media ignored the full conversation and flattened it into a soundbite. What could have been a thoughtful reflection on the dangers of demagoguery became, instead, another forced and ignorant “gotcha” moment.
Michael Jackson’s Yiddishe Momme: Rose Fine
One of the most powerful counterpoints to the claim that Michael Jackson was antisemitic is his lifelong relationship with Rose Fine — a Jewish educator who became a maternal figure to Jackson and his siblings during their early Jackson 5 tours. She wasn’t just a tutor. She was, as Jackson himself said, “the mother” who filled the gap when his own couldn’t travel with them.
“Boy, did I need it,” he later told Rabbi Shmuley Boteach. “I was never with my mother when I was little... I wouldn’t be the same person if it wasn’t for [Rose Fine].”
Of all the people who shaped Jackson’s worldview, few were as formative as Rose. She sparked his love of reading — a passion he later passed on to his own children — and introduced him to books, to learning, and to the memory of the Holocaust. He recalled one moment during a childhood tour stop in Germany:
“She got real quiet... I said, ‘What’s wrong, Miss Fine?’ She said, ‘A lot of people suffered here.’ That’s when I first learned about the concentration camps.”
That moment, he said, never left him.
Even into adulthood, Jackson remained close with her, supporting her well-being, covering her medical expenses, and making sure she was looked after. After her passing, he expressed deep sorrow that he hadn’t been there in her final moments.
Would a man with antisemitic beliefs call a Jewish woman his second mother — and care for her with such devotion until her final days? That’s not how antisemites behave. That’s how someone raised with love and trust behaves — someone who saw no boundaries between race, religion, or background. And that’s the Michael Jackson too often left out of the headlines.
There are many more examples that reinforce the same truth. Michael Jackson maintained genuine friendships and professional collaborations with Jewish individuals across the world — both in the spotlight and far from it. These included Israeli singer Ofra Haza, director Brett Ratner, and the Witz-Cohen family from South Africa, with whom he shared Shabbat dinners and personal moments.
These relationships weren’t superficial. They were built on mutual respect, trust, and real connection — the kind that contradicts every accusation of antisemitism leveled against him.
THEY don’t really care about… Facts.
The idea that Michael Jackson was antisemitic has no factual backbone. Strip away the headlines, and what remains are half-quotes, bad edits, and assumptions that fall apart under even minimal scrutiny. Again and again, the accusations crumble: a lyric torn from context, a voicemail edited beyond recognition, a philosophical musing flattened into a soundbite.
But this isn’t just about debunking old tabloid myths. It’s about revealing how easily a lie can stick when enough people stand to benefit from it.
Opportunists came from all directions — media outlets chasing controversy, business men seeking leverage, and even some institutional voices in the Jewish community who chose outrage over honest conversation. In their rush to condemn, they ignored nuance, context, and truth — and helped cement a myth that never should have taken hold. But they weren’t the only ones.
On the flip side, actual antisemites — both then and now — have tried to hijack Jackson’s name to promote their own agendas. They cling to distortions, desperate to twist him into a symbol of their hate. But the record tells a different story. They overlook everything he said, did, and stood for — because it disproves their narrative.
Michael Jackson wasn’t antisemitic. He was misquoted, misrepresented, and misunderstood. And the truth, once pieced back together, doesn’t just tell a different story — it tells a better one.
The ongoing campaigns to brand Jackson as an antisemite aren’t grounded in evidence, but agendas, and audience too willing to accept things without questions.
In the end, history judges by actions, not headlines.
Beyond refuting false claims, Jackson’s life reveals something deeper: a story of connection. His insistence to get educated and educate about the holocaust. His admiration for Jewish resilience. His effort to educate those around him. His enduring bond with Rose Fine. His collaborations with Jewish colleagues, friends, and mentors.
These weren’t isolated gestures — they’re foundational to understanding who Michael Jackson really was.
Those who choose to believe the accusations may continue to do so. But those who take the time to look — closely and honestly — will see something else entirely: not a man spreading hate, but one who stood firmly against it.
Sources and References
Michael Jackson "They Don't Care About Us"
Dallas Austin interview
Simon Wiesenthal Center
MJJRepository archives
Jackson lyrics ignite storm of criticism
MICHAEL JACKSON CHANGES HIS TUNE ON LYRICS
Michael Jackson Apologizes For Hurt Caused by Lyrics
Michael Jackson's Much-Hyped `History' Is Mired In Controversy
Jewish Response to Jackson
In New Lyrics, Jackson Uses Slurs
Jewish Leaders Call Jackson Lyrics Anti-Semitic : Pop music: The use of derogatory terms on ‘They Don’t Care About Us’ prompts an outcry. But the record label says it’s a song condemning prejudice.
Michael Jackson: 'Hitler was a genius'
Yad Vashem: Educational materials on Nazi propaganda
United States Holocaust Memorial Museum (USHMM)
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