Leo Pearlman is a London based producer and a loud and proud Zionist. His most recent film about the Oct 7 Nova Music Festival massacre, ‘We Will Dance Again’ has won the 2025 Emmy of the 46th Annual News & Documentary Awards for most ‘Outstanding Current Affairs Documentary.
Gary Lineker and Mark Ruffalo both found themselves accused of invoking antisemitic tropes this week. Sadly, there is nothing remarkable about that.
Both men have faced similar accusations before, have been told by Jews why their words or actions caused offence, have apologised, have insisted they are not antisemitic and both have returned, repeatedly, to the same territory.
What makes this week worth examining is not just the extraordinary symmetry between their latest controversies, but the enormous influence of the two men involved. With almost 40 million followers on social media between them, what they say impacts, influences and has the distinct ability to endanger.
Two of the most recognisable figures in global entertainment, two proudly anti-Zionist voices, two men whose political interventions travel far beyond their own social-media feeds and, within days of one another, both managed to stumble into two of the oldest forms of antisemitism there are.
Lineker amplified a comparison between Zionism and Nazism. Ruffalo turned an argument about an American media merger involving two extraordinarily wealthy Jewish businessmen into one about Israel, Gaza, military power and genocide.
Different controversies, very old echoes.
Then there are the connections between the men themselves.
-Both have made Israel an extraordinary focus of their political activism.
-Both have supported its exclusion or isolation.
-Both signed the same open letter seeking the release of Marwan Barghouti, a terrorist, that undenied even by Barghouti himself, currently serving five life sentences after being convicted by an Israeli court of five civilian murders and the plots to commit many more.
-Both have been accused of crossing the line from criticism of Israel into antisemitic rhetoric.
-Both have apologised for previous interventions.
-Both have subsequently crossed that line again.
-Both men vehemently deny being antisemitic. I believe that they believe that, which is precisely what makes them such important examples of something deeply wrong within my industry and within society. They have been told, again and again, by Jews, by Jewish organisations, by history, by recognised definitions of antisemitism, occasionally even by themselves, and still they return to the same place.
Yet both remain enormously successful, enormously influential and enormously well rewarded by the very industry in which I work.
In 2021, during fighting between Israel and Hamas, Ruffalo demanded sanctions against Israel and accused it of genocide. Then, just like now, Jews were attacked across the Diaspora and Ruffalo apologised. He acknowledged that describing Israel’s actions as genocide was “not accurate", “inflammatory" and was “being used to justify antisemitism here & abroad."
Yet eighteen months later, almost a full year before October 7th, Ruffalo publicly supported opposition to the UN adopting the IHRA working definition of antisemitism.
Think about that sequence. First, use inflammatory rhetoric, then acknowledge that it contributes to antisemitism and apologise. Next, oppose a definition designed to help identify when rhetoric concerning Israel can cross into antisemitism. Quickly return to the rhetoric and when Jews object? Tell them they’re wrong.
Now we arrive at this week and Ruffalo’s latest “faux-pas". There are perfectly legitimate reasons to oppose the Paramount-Warner Bros. merger. He could have talked about competition, jobs, media consolidation or editorial independence. Instead, in attacking David Ellison and his father Larry, he travelled through Oracle, Israel, Gaza, military technology, genocide and apartheid.
Why? What does Israel have to do with an American antitrust dispute?
Ruffalo says the connection is Oracle’s business relationship with Israel and that he was criticising powerful corporations, not the Ellisons’ religion. Sure, but this is precisely where history matters.
For centuries, antisemitism has imagined Jews as possessing almost supernatural power: enormous wealth, control of media, influence over governments and wars, hidden networks operating behind world events. A secret cabal made famous by such literary masterpieces as The Protocols of the Elders of Zion. So when an argument involving two extraordinarily wealthy Jewish businessmen potentially controlling one of the world’s largest media companies somehow arrives at Israel, military power and Gaza, Jews are entitled to recognise something horribly familiar.
Paramount did too, accusing Ruffalo of invoking antisemitic tropes. Ruffalo called the accusation “appalling and fundamentally dishonest" and pointed to the Jewish friends and colleagues who had shaped his career. A sophisticated version of: Some of my best friends are Jewish.
Nobody needs to believe Mark Ruffalo hates Jews to recognise the problem. You don’t need consciously to hate Jews to perpetuate ideas born from Jew-hatred, ancient tropes designed to turn suspicion into fear, fear into hatred, hatred into persecution and, as history has repeatedly shown us, persecution into murder.
Then there is our very own lovable national treasure, Gary Lineker, another one who has been told on far too many occasions to still be making these kinds of mistakes.
In 2024, he reposted a call for Israel to be suspended from international football. He deleted it, saying he had misread the post. In 2025, he shared a post about Zionism illustrated with a rat, imagery carrying an infamous history in Nazi propaganda. Again, he hadn’t realised, he apologised “unreservedly". “I would never knowingly share anything antisemitic," he said.
Fine, so what possible excuse is there this time? Because this week Lineker amplified Tony Greenstein saying that Zionism is “in the tradition of the Nazis".
Context is really important here. Following October 7th, Greenstein posted: “Full support for the Gaza ghetto uprising." He linked to a blog in which he wrote that “the time to fight is now" and that, whatever criticisms could be made of Hamas, “we should congratulate them" for what he called a “well-planned and audacious attack on the Zionist enemy".
In court, Greenstein said he believed the October 7th attack was justified while maintaining that he did not support Hamas as an organisation. This is the man Lineker chose to amplify this week, and the message he considered worth sharing with millions of followers? That Zionism is in the tradition of Nazism.
His previous “mistake", sharing an image placing a rat alongside a discussion of Zionism. Now he amplifies a man who celebrated October 7th as it unfolded and compares Zionism with Nazism.
At what point does I didn’t realise cease to be credible?
Apologies are supposed to mean something, yet without recognition, reflection and most importantly change, an apology followed by the same behaviour isn’t contrition. It’s nothing but cynical crisis management.
Since leaving the BBC, Lineker has said he doesn’t miss “treading on so many eggshells". I keep coming back to those words and asking myself what exactly were the eggshells?
Having to check that something you’re sharing doesn’t depict Zionists as vermin? Having to think twice before amplifying someone comparing Zionism with Nazism? Having to exercise basic care when communicating about Jews, Israel and Zionism to millions of people?
Those aren’t eggshells, they’re boundaries. The same boundaries our industry rightly expects public figures to understand when speaking about every other minority.
But Lineker certainly doesn’t appear to have suffered professionally for escaping them. ITV has commissioned him to host a new show. Amazon has commissioned a multi-part documentary about his life. The Edinburgh TV Festival has made him one of their star turns.
I am not an advocate of cancellation, but I am a believer in consequences.
The question at the heart of all of this is when do Jews get a say? When do Jews get a say in what constitutes antisemitism? Not an absolute veto over political speech, not immunity for Israel from criticism, but a say.
Our society has spent years teaching itself that prejudice isn’t determined solely by the intentions of the person expressing it. “I didn’t mean it that way" isn’t normally the end of the conversation. “I have Black friends" wouldn’t absolve racism. “I have gay friends" wouldn’t absolve homophobia. Yet somehow “I have Jewish friends" remains admissible evidence in the court of antisemitism.
When large numbers of Jews tell you that comparing Zionists with Nazis is antisemitic, when the IHRA working definition identifies comparisons between contemporary Israeli policy and that of the Nazis as a potential manifestation of antisemitism, when centuries of history explain why conspiratorial ideas involving Jewish money, media, governments and hidden power are so dangerous, at what point might you consider that the problem isn’t Jewish sensitivity?
Perhaps Gary, perhaps Mark, just perhaps, the problem is you.
There is also a revealing circularity to all of this. Ruffalo has actively opposed the IHRA definition of antisemitism. Tony Greenstein, the man Lineker chose to amplify this week, has been one of its vociferous opponents too.
Reject the definition Jews use to help identify when anti-Zionism crosses into antisemitism. Reject the Jews who tell you that you have crossed that line. Reject the lessons of Jewish history when they recognise the same ancient tropes. Then cite your own rejection of the accusation as evidence that you haven’t done anything antisemitic.
At which point, who exactly does get to define antisemitism? Apparently, only the people accused of perpetuating it.
One version of Jew-hatred portrays us as subhuman, dirty, diseased, vermin. The other portrays us as superhuman, impossibly wealthy, impossibly connected, controlling media, governments, banks and wars. One says Jews are beneath society, the other says Jews secretly run it. Both are antisemitism and our protagonists have leant into both.
Which brings me back to my own industry, because Lineker and Ruffalo are far from cautionary tales, they’re success stories.
Gary Lineker spent decades occupying some of the most valuable real estate in British broadcasting. He remains one of Britain’s most recognisable media personalities. Mark Ruffalo is a four-time Oscar nominee and one of the most recognisable actors on the planet.
Their reach and impact are staggering. Between them, Lineker and Ruffalo command almost 40 million social-media follows across X and Instagram alone. There are only around 15.8 million Jews in the entire world. Ruffalo’s response to this latest controversy alone has reportedly been viewed around 16 million times, liked more than 600,000 times and reposted over 100,000 times.
Consider that imbalance. Two men with a combined social-media following more than twice the global Jewish population, able to broadcast their version of what is and, crucially, what isn’t antisemitism to audiences vastly larger than the community telling them otherwise.
When Jews say, “This is antisemitism," and they respond, “No it isn’t," whose voice do you think travels further?
That scale changes everything, their words don’t remain theirs. They legitimise language, shift boundaries, tell millions of people what is acceptable to say. Their posts are replicated, their opinions validated by their celebrity. Their rhetoric reaches people who will never read an IHRA definition, study the history of antisemitism or distinguish carefully between an Israeli government, Zionists and the Jewish person walking down their street.
An entertainment industry that rightly prides itself on challenging racism, misogyny, homophobia and other forms of prejudice suddenly discovers infinite nuance when the prejudice is antisemitism. We listen to minorities, except Jews. We respect lived experience, except Jewish lived experience. We examine unconscious bias, except when Jews identify it. Then intention suddenly matters enormously, everybody becomes an expert, history becomes negotiable, definitions become controversial.
Jews are repeatedly told that what looks, sounds and feels like the prejudice that has followed us for two thousand years isn’t actually antisemitism at all and that is why Lineker and Ruffalo matter. Their enormous platforms turn their blind spots into other people’s received wisdom, confirmation bias and, ultimately, licence for hate.
When people of this influence repeatedly reproduce antisemitic tropes, dismiss the Jews identifying them, apologise only to return to the same territory, and discover that professionally there is always another platform waiting, their words and actions negatively affect the culture around them.
It teaches millions that Jewish objections can be dismissed as political manoeuvring. That antisemitism is something you can define for yourself. That centuries-old tropes become acceptable provided you place the word Zionist where the word Jew once stood.
Perhaps most dangerously, it teaches our society that none of this really matters. Another apology, another denial, another payday.
Who cares whether Gary Lineker and Mark Ruffalo consider themselves antisemites. They don’t, we know that.
The question is whether wider society and an industry that claims to understand unconscious prejudice is prepared to recognise it, when two of its biggest stars and so many others cannot.