Why antisemitism keeps coming back, according to historians and critics

The Short Version

Antisemitism keeps coming back because it isn't one prejudice but a flexible story that can be refitted to each era's anxieties. Historian Rick Spence traces how Jews were hated first for religious reasons, then, after emancipation and industrialization, blamed for both capitalism and Bolshevism, and how a murky forgery, the Protocols of the Elders of Zion, spread after World War I because it seemed to explain a world turned upside down [1]. Douglas Murray calls it the lowest-resolution explanation for everything that goes wrong, a hatred that can hold contradictions and that often reveals more about the accuser than the accused [2]. Michael Malice, John Mearsheimer, Bassem Youssef and Dave Smith add a second, harder question: how the charge of antisemitism is itself used, sometimes to name real hatred and sometimes, they argue, to shut down criticism of Israel [3][4][5][6]. Knowing the recurring shapes of the old hatred (the secret cabal, the blood libel, the Jew behind both sides) is the best tool for telling it apart from ordinary criticism of a government's policy.

Table of contents

What They Said

Rick Spence: the history of a story that provides "a kind of explanation"

Rick Spence, a historian of intelligence agencies, secret societies and conspiracies, starts with the word itself. He dislikes "anti-Semitism" because it doesn't say what it means; it is simply anti-Jewism [1]. The term was coined in the 1870s by the German journalist Wilhelm Marr precisely to make Jew-hatred sound more scientific [1]. That detail matters for the pattern: each era dresses the same hostility in its own respectable vocabulary.

Asked by Lex Fridman whether Jew hatred is "just an accident of history," or whether it is "the collective mind searching for a small group to blame for the pains of civilization," Spence answers: "It goes all the way back to the Greeks." [1] One of the first places he finds the idea that Jews are a distinct, mean-spirited people is the Greco-Egyptian historian Manetho, around 300 BC, whose history of Egypt's dynasties contains a story that "describes the kind of first blood libels" [1]. He also points to conflicts under Roman rule [1].

Religion supplied the next layer. Spence argues that Christianity in its own way took over the Jewish story: "It's just like, well, we're the Jews now." [1] He recalls Sunday school on his mother's side, where the Old Testament was presented as a kind of Christian prequel, the word Hebrew was always used rather than Jews, and "the Hebrews just sort of became the Christians. And I don't know the Jews just got, they didn't get a memo or something." [1] Before the 19th century, he says, Jews were hated mainly for religious reasons and lived largely apart [1].

The modern form, in Spence's account, was born of change. Emancipation between roughly 1800 and 1850 brought Jews assimilation and visibility in banking, law, medicine and business, at exactly the moment industrialization was creating economic losers [1]. Jews became associated with unwelcome change. And because many Jews were also prominent on the revolutionary left, propagandists could blame them for capitalism and Bolshevism at the same time [1]. In the German context after World War I he describes the tactic plainly: "The way to then undermine the real enemy it was seen, the revolutionary left was to point out the Jewish influence there." Look at Russia, the argument ran: Trotsky, Radek. "It wasn't hard to find him in that regard." [1]

This sits inside Spence's larger story of how the Nazi Party emerged. The Thule Society, a Munich occult study group of 1917-1918, was a branch of the Germanenorden in the racist Ariosophist movement, and it fed on the need to invent a common German identity in a country that had only become a state in 1871, an impulse that ran from Wagner's operas to fantasies of an Aryan master race from a mythical Arctic homeland [1]. After the war its bills were paid by the army, which wanted to keep Germany from going Bolshevik; one of its satellite groups was the German Workers' Party, into which the army planted its propagandist, Corporal Adolf Hitler [1]. Spence calls it "not an anti-communist organization, it's a counter communist organization," one that mimics its rival rather than simply opposing it [1]. Antisemitism, in this telling, was a political tool as much as a passion: a way to discredit the left by attaching a face to it.

The Protocols: where the template came from

Spence calls the Protocols of the Learned Elders of Zion "probably one of the most troublesome and destructive works of literature that has ever emerged. Yet its origins remain obscure." [1] The standard story says the Russian secret police, the Okhrana, forged it in Paris in 1904 or 1905 under Pyotr Rachkovsky, adapting Maurice Joly's satire Dialogue in Hell between Machiavelli and Montesquieu [1]. Spence rejects it: at the time, Rachkovsky had been fired and wasn't in Paris, so "the whole situation which is described couldn't have taken place because the people who did it weren't there." His verdict on that story is telling for the whole subject: "It's a story, but it provides a kind of explanation for it." [1]

His method is to "go back to the beginning. Find the first place this is mentioned, or the first version, or the first iteration." [1] Doing so leads him to St. Petersburg in 1903 and a small right-wing antisemitic newspaper, Znamya (Banner), which serialized the text without crediting any author [1]. That first version was presented as a Judeo-Masonic plot and mentioned Freemasons more than Jews [1]. The document, he says, reads less like the minutes of a meeting than "the exposition of a bond villain" [1]. Drawing on Cesare De Michelis's reconstruction, The Non-Existent Manuscript, which highlights scattered sentences matching Joly, Spence argues that plagiarists don't borrow that way [1]. His own theory, which he labels as such, is that Joly himself wrote an unpublished text, perhaps venting against the Jewish, Masonic politician Adolphe Crémieux, which passed through Joly's son into the Russian-subsidized French press [1]. Spence is careful throughout to separate documented fact from his own theories, calling one of them "an argument, not a fact" [1].

The setting he describes is the important part. 1890s France was obsessed with the Dreyfus affair, the Panama scandal and Léo Taxil's Satanic-Masonic hoax, a bestselling tale of devil-worshipping Freemasons, child sacrifice and a supposed satanic high priestess named Diana Vaughan [1]. In Spence's words: "So evil satanic Freemasons, evil Jewish financiers" and "This is the brew where all of this comes out." He wants to know how Freemasons and Jews got joined together, and his answer is: "France is the place where this happens." [1] Taxil eventually admitted publicly that he had invented the whole thing, yet some people still believe it [1], a lesson in how little a confession does to a story people want.

The Protocols only spread widely after World War I, when translations multiplied, because they offered an explanation for a world turned upside down [1]. Spence calls the text "a turd on a plate": it appears out of nowhere and makes no sense, yet captures attention [1]. As he puts it, "wherever the turd came from, it did captivate the imagination." [1]

Two more observations from Spence explain why this hatred survives contact with reality. First, people who hate a group in the abstract often make exceptions for the real individuals they know [1]. Second, his lesson for students: "always be clear about what you know and what you believe." [1] We know very little directly, so we act on beliefs, and those beliefs shape action whether or not they are true [1]. The Nazis, with only 12 years, showed how much damage a small group driven by a fantasy can do [1].

Douglas Murray: the lowest-resolution explanation, and projection

Douglas Murray, author of On Democracies and Death Cults, approaches the question from the present. Why is there so much hatred of Jews? He calls it the lowest-resolution explanation for everything that goes wrong in the world, and Lex Fridman admits he feels the pull of neat, simple theories himself [2]. Murray notes that antisemitism can hold contradictions at once: Jews are hated for being rich and for being poor, for being religious and for being secular, for being stateless and for having a state [2]. That elasticity is part of why it keeps returning; no fact can refute a charge that shifts to fit whatever the facts are.

His central reference is Vasily Grossman's novel Life and Fate, which he paraphrases as: tell me what you accuse the Jews of, and I will tell you what you are guilty of [2]. He applies it to current accusations: Iran accusing Israel of colonialism, Turkey accusing it of occupation while itself occupying northern Cyprus, and Hamas supporters accusing Israel of rape and indiscriminate killing [2]. He links this to his earlier book The War on the West: people told that their own societies are guilty of settler colonialism, white supremacy and genocide, with no way to be forgiven, found in Israel a country onto which they could load that guilt [2].

Murray draws a line between criticism and hatred. Criticism of Israel, he says, is not automatically antisemitic [2]. But his test is selectivity and timing: he notes there were protests against Israel in Times Square on October 8th, before Israel had responded, and none against Hamas, and he argues that someone who ignores Syria, Sudan and Yemen and is out on the street against Israel on October 8th is antisemitic [2]. He also observes that people who hesitate to call Hamas evil are often eager to call Netanyahu evil [2].

He attacks the conspiratorial core too. Lex says that time around powerful people has taught him they are mostly ordinary humans, not brilliant plotters, and Murray agrees, recalling a politician who told him governing is firefighting one surprise after another [2]. That is the practical rebuttal to every Protocols-style theory: the people supposedly running the world are mostly scrambling to keep up with it. Murray adds that giving the Palestinians another state would not fix Yemen's economy or women's rights in Iran, citing Salman Rushdie's view that a new state would likely be a front for Iran [2], a point aimed at the habit of treating Israel as the key to every problem in the region.

Michael Malice: a hatred unlike the others, and the "ambassador program"

Michael Malice, the anarchist author whose parents got him out of the Soviet Union, argues that antisemitism is not like other forms of hate. Unlike other bigotries, he says, it openly calls for killing Jews, and that has actually happened, through centuries of pogroms and the Holocaust [3]. He recommends The Satanization of the Jews, suggested to him by Camille Paglia, and describes the worldview it analyzes: Jews alone are capable of good or evil, and they are capable only of evil. If one Jewish adviser is in a room of ten, everything is his fault [3]. That is Spence's cabal template stated as a psychological rule.

Malice also polices the other side of the line. He objects to cheapening the Holocaust through comparisons, whether in debates about Israel or in calling George Soros a Holocaust survivor to shield him from criticism [3]. Anyone who uses great wealth to influence politics, he says, from Soros to Sheldon Adelson to Elon Musk, should be open to criticism [3]. For Malice, the Holocaust's lesson is how extreme things can get and how fast [3]. So he holds two positions at once: Jew hatred is uniquely murderous, and invoking it to protect powerful individuals from ordinary scrutiny is a misuse.

His remedy is what he calls an "ambassador program" [3]. He points to how gay Americans went from being widely despised, with many dying of AIDS without telling their parents, to Times Square covered in pride flags, because knowing someone makes bigotry much harder [3]. The same applies, he says, to Islamophobia and other prejudices [3]. This matches Spence's observation that haters make exceptions for the individuals they actually know [1]. Malice also defends religious people against sneering internet atheism and offers a line that fits conspiracy thinking well: "If you've proven that someone else is stupid, that doesn't mean you're smart." [3]

John Mearsheimer: "the Great Silencer"

John Mearsheimer, co-author with Stephen Walt of The Israel Lobby, is the sharpest voice on how the charge is used. His book argues that the lobby is a loose coalition of individuals and organizations, including many Christian Zionists, that pushes U.S. policy toward supporting Israel no matter what [4]. He insists it is not a Jewish lobby, not a cabal and not a conspiracy, but a legal, ordinary American interest group like the National Rifle Association that happens to be very powerful [4]. "Look, we went to great lengths to make it clear that this is not a cabal. It's not a conspiracy. In fact, in a very important way, the lobby operates out in the open, right? They brag about their power, right?" [4]

He calls the accusation of antisemitism "the Great Silencer," the title of a section of the book [4]. "Who wants to be called an anti-Semite, especially in the wake of the Holocaust?" he asks, and "so it's very effective." [4] He argues that people "wield this weapon of calling people anti-Semites so loosely that the term has kind of lost meaning." [4] His historical point is that anti-Zionism and antisemitism are different things: "there is a rich tradition of anti-Zionism," including many American and European Jews in the 1930s, 40s and 50s who opposed Zionism. "Were they anti-Semilites? I don't think so." [4] Many anti-Zionists today, he says, are Jewish and proud of it; they just don't believe Jewish nationalism should be applauded [4].

Lex pushes back with the pattern problem. Criticizing Israel and the lobby "can for a lot of people be a dog whistle for sort of anti-Semitic conspiracy theories," the idea that Jews run everything [4]. "But the hatred of Jews has like a long history," Lex says, and "there's just a set of great hits of the way conspiracy theories that you can make up about the Jews that are used as part of the hatred. So there's like nice templates for that." [4] Mearsheimer accepts the point ("your point about dog whistles is correct") and acknowledges the danger directly: "I know that there's this piece of literature out there called the protocols of the elders of Zion. And I fully understand that if you're not careful, you can come close to writing volume two, the protocol. But I don't believe that we wrote anything that was even close to that." [4] He argues that open debate would have served both American and Israeli interests, and that suppressing it may even fuel antisemitism [4]. He adds a personal note: he has Jewish grandsons, one of whom carries his name [4].

When Lex asks why hatred of groups is "such a sticky way of thinking," a hate that becomes "part of your identity," Mearsheimer turns, characteristically, to structure rather than psychology, noting that Lex keeps reaching for individual explanations [4]. Worth noting against Murray: Murray is skeptical of realists like Mearsheimer, joking that "Very few people are surrealists in foreign policy" [2].

Bassem Youssef: the old hatred, the price Palestinians paid, and the fear of backlash

Bassem Youssef, the Egyptian-American surgeon turned satirist, gives his own list of antisemitism's European roots: accusations of killing Christ, forced moneylending, the Crusades, and the Protocols of the Elders of Zion, which he notes was plagiarized from a satire and spread partly by Henry Ford [5]. (Spence would dispute the plagiarism part, arguing the Joly overlaps look more like the author reusing his own unpublished work [1].) Bassem calls the Holocaust a carefully engineered evil and notes that many Jewish refugees, including Anne Frank's father, were refused visas by the US and Europe [5]. His question as an Arab is why Palestinians had to pay the price for centuries of European antisemitism [5].

He also tells a counter-story. He has bought the film rights to Ronen Steinke's book The Muslim and the Jew, about Mohamed Helmy, an Egyptian doctor in Nazi Berlin who secretly treated Jewish patients, hid a Jewish girl as his niece for years, and later helped a network that saved about 300 Jews [5]. He uses it to point to a history of relationships between Arabs and Jews before 1948, while acknowledging that Jews in the Arab world did not have full equality [5].

On the mechanics of dehumanization, Bassem argues that propaganda words are chosen to plant images, and that blood libel, the medieval myth about Jews, worked the same way as modern atrocity claims used to dehumanize the other side [5]. He insists that criticism of Israel's government is not hatred of Jews [5]. He criticizes President Biden's statement that Jews wouldn't be safe without Israel, arguing it implies American Jews owe loyalty to a foreign country, and he worries that Israel's actions are fueling antisemitism against Jews everywhere, just as Muslims were collectively blamed after ISIS [5]. He knows the labeling game from the other side: in Egypt he was called a CIA operative, a Mossad agent, a secret Muslim Brother, a secret Jew and a Freemason, and one tweet Lex reads calls him an "Islamonazi" [5]. What worries him is not the labels themselves but that people who hear such accusations might act on them [5].

Lex challenges him where he sees exaggeration, telling him "I think a lot of the things you just said are a tiny bit slightly exaggerated," and noting that not all Israelis, soldiers or officials see Palestinians the way Bassem describes [5]. Lex also asks whether the small number of Jews in the world, about 16 million versus about 1.8 billion Muslims, explains Israelis' existential fear; Bassem says the fear is understandable but doesn't justify taking land [5].

Dave Smith: real, rising, and fed by a "third rail"

Dave Smith, a Jewish libertarian comedian, says antisemitism is clearly real and has exploded since the Gaza war [6]. He sees several drivers: trolling for a reaction, and young white men who grew up in a woke era when, he says, every powerful institution accepted racialism against them [6]. Joe Rogan notes that this is new on the left and that some campus protests look funded rather than organic; Smith recalls a Jewish Columbia grad student who found the protests annoying but not threatening [6].

His central argument mirrors his case about drone wars creating enemies: if you want less antisemitism, stop funding and arming the conflict that fuels it, and stop a system where American politicians can't criticize a foreign government that has helped pull the US into so many wars [6]. Both he and Rogan argue that suppressing debate about Israel and Gaza creates a "third rail" that makes people more suspicious, feeding the very antisemitism it is supposed to prevent [6]. That is Mearsheimer's point from a different angle. Smith also defended Darryl Cooper against charges of being a Jew-hating Nazi sympathizer, challenging a critic to listen to Cooper's series on Jewish suffering, Fear and Loathing in the New Jerusalem, and say whether such a person could have made it; Smith says the series actually made him more sympathetic to Israelis by setting the Nakba in the context of 1947 [6].

Where They Agree, and Where They Don't

Everyone agrees antisemitism is real, old and dangerous. Spence traces it to Manetho around 300 BC [1]; Malice says it is uniquely murderous [3]; Murray sees it everywhere in the reaction to October 7th [2]; Smith says it has exploded [6]; Bassem calls the Holocaust a carefully engineered evil [5]; Mearsheimer acknowledges that the Protocols exist and that careless criticism can come close to writing their sequel [4].

They broadly agree on its shape. Spence's Jews-as-both-capitalists-and-Bolsheviks [1], Murray's rich-and-poor, stateless-and-with-a-state contradictions [2], Malice's worldview in which Jews are capable only of evil [3] and Lex's "set of great hits" of conspiracy templates [4] describe the same thing: an all-purpose explanation in which a small group is secretly responsible for whatever is going wrong. Murray's lowest-resolution explanation [2] and Spence's story that "provides a kind of explanation" [1] are nearly the same diagnosis.

They agree criticism of Israel is not automatically antisemitic. Murray says so explicitly [2], as do Mearsheimer [4], Bassem [5] and Smith [6]. Malice argues that powerful people, Jewish or not, should be open to criticism [3].

They disagree sharply on where the line is and how the charge is used. Murray's test is selective outrage: protesting Israel before it had even responded, while ignoring Syria, Sudan and Yemen [2]. His projection thesis implies that much of the fury aimed at Israel reveals more about the accusers than the accused [2]. Mearsheimer, by contrast, sees the charge as a weapon wielded so loosely that it has lost meaning, used to silence scholars like him [4]. Bassem and Smith sit closer to Mearsheimer: they worry more about the charge shielding a government than about hatred disguised as criticism [5][6].

They disagree about what fuels the current wave. Murray places the cause in the accusers (projection, guilt transferred from the West onto Israel, and an ideology that hates Jews regardless) [2]. Smith and Bassem argue that Israel's conduct and U.S. support for it are fueling antisemitism, and that stifling debate adds to it [5][6]. Mearsheimer also thinks suppression may fuel it [4]. Murray's framework would treat blaming Israel's conduct for antisemitism as another version of blaming Jews for the hatred directed at them; the other side sees it as the ordinary logic of blowback, the same logic that led Muslims to be collectively blamed after ISIS [5][6].

They disagree on facts, too. Smith says some claims about October 7th, such as reports of beheaded babies, turned out not to be true, while stressing Hamas's attack was horrific [6]; Bassem argues such claims dehumanize the other side much as blood libel once dehumanized Jews [5]; Murray insists some acts on October 7th can only be described as evil and recounts survivors' testimony in detail [2]. Lex, across several conversations, keeps pushing each guest toward the other side: challenging Bassem's exaggerations [5], pressing Mearsheimer on dog whistles [4], and resisting Murray's willingness to blame Gaza's general population [2].

On the Protocols' origin, the historians differ. Bassem repeats the standard account that it was plagiarized from a satire [5]; Spence argues the evidence doesn't support the usual story of an Okhrana forgery in Paris and offers his own theory that Joly himself was involved, while labeling it opinion [1].

Why It Works

The sources offer several mechanisms for why this hatred keeps recurring.

It explains too much. Murray calls it the lowest-resolution explanation for everything that goes wrong [2]; Spence says the Protocols spread after World War I because they offered an explanation for a world turned upside down [1]. Big disruptions (industrialization, defeat in war, revolution, a war in Gaza) create demand for a simple answer, and the old templates are ready-made. Lex admits he feels the pull of neat theories himself [2].

It can't be falsified, because it holds contradictions. If Jews are blamed for capitalism and for communism [1], for being rich and poor, stateless and state-holding [2], then no evidence can disprove it. Every fact becomes more evidence.

It changes costume. Religious hatred became racial "science" when Wilhelm Marr coined a respectable word for it in the 1870s [1]; a Judeo-Masonic plot in 1903 became a Jewish one as the text travelled [1]. Spence's image of a text mentioning Freemasons more than Jews [1] shows how the target narrows over time to the group easiest to blame.

It is useful to people with other goals. Spence shows German counter-revolutionaries using Jewish names on the left to discredit Bolshevism [1] and a document probably fed through a Russian-subsidized press [1]. His wider theme is that many people act on what they believe rather than what they know, and that ego, belonging and ritual make beliefs spread [1].

It thrives at a distance and dies up close. Spence notes that haters make exceptions for the individuals they know [1], and Malice's evidence from gay rights is that knowing someone makes bigotry much harder [3].

Projection supplies the energy. Murray's Grossman principle says accusations reveal the accuser's own guilt, and his War on the West argument says Western guilt with no path to forgiveness gets loaded onto Israel [2].

Suppression can backfire. Mearsheimer, Smith and Rogan argue that making Israel a third rail makes people suspicious and may feed the hatred [4][6], and Bassem worries that Jews everywhere are being blamed for Israel's actions [5]. Murray would dispute that this is the main cause [2], but on all sides the concern is that the conditions for the old story are being refreshed.

Where It Applies, and Where It Doesn't

The pattern lens is strongest when a claim has the classic shape: a small, hidden group secretly controlling events, a single figure blamed for everything in a room of ten [3], a document that reads like "the exposition of a bond villain" rather than a real record [1], or accusations that contradict each other [2]. Those are the marks of the old hatred however new the setting.

It applies less well, the sources argue, to open, specific policy disputes. Mearsheimer insists his argument is about a lawful interest group that operates in the open and brags about its power, like the NRA, not a secret cabal [4]. Malice argues that wealthy political donors of any background should face criticism, and that shielding them by invoking the Holocaust cheapens it [3]. Murray, Bassem and Smith all agree that criticism of Israel is not automatically antisemitic [2][5][6].

The hard cases are in between. Lex's dog-whistle point is that even careful criticism of the lobby can be heard by some as confirmation of the Jews-run-everything template, and that open racists often don't sound racist on the surface [4]. Mearsheimer accepts that risk [4]. Murray's selectivity test (focus on Israel alone, and before it has acted) offers one way to spot the difference [2], though his critics would say that Israel draws special attention because of U.S. funding and support, which is exactly Smith's and Bassem's argument [5][6].

The lens also has limits in the other direction. Spence's warning is against overreach in general: be clear about what you know versus what you believe [1]. That applies equally to accusing a critic of antisemitism without evidence and to accepting conspiratorial claims about Jews. Bassem's experience of being called everything from a Mossad agent to an "Islamonazi" [5] shows that labels are thrown loosely in every direction.

What To Do With It

1. Learn the recurring templates. The secret cabal, the blood libel, the Jew behind both capitalism and communism, and the one adviser blamed for everything are old forms [1][3][4]. When a new claim matches one, treat that as a red flag, whatever the political wrapper.

2. Go back to the beginning. Follow Spence's research rule and find the first version of a claim [1]. The Protocols first appeared in a small antisemitic Russian paper in 1903 without an author and mostly about Freemasons [1]; many viral claims have similarly shaky origins.

3. Separate what you know from what you believe. Spence's key lesson for students is to be clear about the difference [1]. Ask of any sweeping claim about Jews, or any sweeping accusation of antisemitism, what is actually documented.

4. Test for contradiction and selectivity. If a charge blames the same group for opposite things, it is the old hatred [2]. If outrage appears only when Israel is involved, and not for Syria, Sudan or Yemen, Murray argues that is a sign too [2].

5. Criticize policies, institutions and named actors, not a people. Mearsheimer draws the line at a lawful lobby operating in the open rather than a Jewish cabal [4]; Malice holds that powerful donors of any background can be criticized [3]; Bassem separates Israel's government from Jews [5].

6. Don't use the charge as a shield. Malice objects to invoking the Holocaust to protect the wealthy from criticism [3], and Mearsheimer warns that using "anti-Semite" loosely empties the word of meaning [4]. Save it for real hatred so it keeps its force.

7. Keep real debate open. Mearsheimer, Smith and Rogan argue that making Israel a third rail breeds suspicion that feeds antisemitism [4][6].

8. Know people. Malice's "ambassador program" and Spence's observation that haters exempt the individuals they know both point to personal contact as the most reliable cure [1][3]. Stories like Mohamed Helmy's, an Arab doctor who saved Jews in Nazi Berlin, can do similar work at a distance [5].

9. Be humble about grand explanations. Remember Murray and Lex's shared observation that powerful people are mostly ordinary humans firefighting one surprise after another, not master plotters [2], and Spence's warning that people act on beliefs whether or not they are true [1].

Sources

1. Rick Spence: CIA, KGB, Illuminati, Secret Societies, Cults & Conspiracies · Lex Fridman Podcast
2. Douglas Murray: Putin, Zelenskyy, Trump, Israel, Netanyahu, Hamas & Gaza · Lex Fridman Podcast
3. Thanksgiving Pirate Special · Lex Fridman Podcast
4. John Mearsheimer: Israel Palestine: Russia Ukraine: China: NATO: And WW3 · Lex Fridman Podcast
5. Bassem Youssef: Israel-Palestine, Gaza, Hamas, Middle East, Satire, Fame · Lex Fridman Podcast
6. 2299 - Dave Smith · The Joe Rogan Experience