By Lana Melman
The Jerusalem Post Magazine
LOS ANGELES — On October 11, 2023, actress Emmanuelle Chriqui wrote the following on her Instagram page: “I stand with Israel when she defends herself against Hamas, a terrorist organization whose mission it is to seek the destruction of the Jewish state. I stand with Israel today and always.”
Most people know Emmanuelle from her breakout role as Adam Sandler’s love interest in You Don’t Mess with the Zohan and the cheeky, independent girlfriend, Sloan, in the television series Entourage, but she has been working steadily since.
This major talent in a small package was born in Canada to parents of French Moroccan descent and became an American citizen in 2017. Emmanuelle, who recently celebrated her 49th birthday, is as authentic as she is beautiful. In the first session of our video interview, she was in the throes of a nasty head cold but hopped on with no makeup and her hair tied up on top of her head.
What drew me to Emmanuelle, in addition to her interesting career, is her outspoken support of Israel and the Jewish people. I also knew she had been on a spiritual journey for fourteen years, so I was curious about her evolution. This past November, Emmanuelle presented at the Second Annual Jewish Media Awards, where we had the pleasure of meeting.
Emmanuelle grew up in a deeply traditional Jewish household. Every Friday, her family lit candles at exactly the right time, plugged in the hot water, and turned the oven low to prepare for the weekend.
“Kosher, milk and meat separate, observing the high holidays to the max,” she described. “We would do a full two-week cleaning for Passover, switch up the dishes—the works. Shabbat was non-negotiable.”
When I asked which biblical Jewish character she would like to play, she laughed and said, “Esther. Isn’t that what everybody says? She was strong and saved the Jewish people.” I learned that, like me, Emmanuelle did not go to Sunday school, learn Hebrew, or become a bat mitzvah while growing up.
Her mother passed away when she was young, and it appeared to me, even in our brief conversation, that the tragic event still impacted her. She knew that her parents fled Morocco around 1967, along with most of the Jewish population. However, like many people whose families escaped oppression or worse, her parents never spoke about it.
Most of her understanding of what her parents experienced has come from recent research on the era. Like many Jews who have parents or grandparents who became overnight refugees, she regrets not asking them about it before they both passed away.
In high school, Emmanuelle was allowed to go out after dinner on Friday nights, but she soon realized she preferred bringing her friends into the tradition. “I kind of tuned in, and I was like, I’m just going to invite my friends to Shabbat dinner, and that’s the jam that made the most sense.”
Her father went to synagogue every Saturday, but for him, it was more about the sense of community than strict religious devotion. “I think both of them, that’s how they grew up, and so they continued those traditions in our home,” she explained.
Still, her family attended an Orthodox Sephardic temple where the entire service was in Hebrew. “When I was younger, I really didn’t enjoy it. It was truly the source of so much grief in my life,” she admitted. By her late teens and early twenties, she began to push back against her traditional upbringing. “I rebelled,” she said. She was proud of her Jewish heritage, but religious observance “didn’t call to me.”
Her teenage resistance led to a personal spiritual voyage “that took me everywhere,” she said, recalling how she explored different spiritual practices. “I was very much into the healing arts, like Reiki and yoga, and then that brought me into studying Hinduism, Buddhism, meditation, and all of the things that I still hold so close to my heart.”
But everything changed after her father’s passing. She found herself embracing the traditions she had grown up with—the food, the customs, and the sense of connection they fostered.
Suddenly, the traditions she had once resisted became a way to honor her parents. About ten years ago, she became part of a community in Los Angeles that began celebrating Shabbat together. “Lighting the candles and all the things that we grew up with suddenly were sacred to me,” she reflected.
She describes the experience as a natural return to her roots but clarifies, “Even in my journeying, I never, ever denied my Jewish identity or upbringing. It has been this very organic thing that brought me back to what I’ve always been.”
The seeds for her Jewish advocacy were laid early when her family would tell her, “The world hates the Jews.” As a child, she brushed it off, thinking they were exaggerating. But in recent times, she has witnessed firsthand the depth of antisemitism, the double standards, and the hypocrisy surrounding it.
Then there was October 7, 2023. “What really rocked me was the almost instantaneous anti-Jewish hatred,” she said, citing the Hitler salutes and chants of “from the river to the sea” on college campuses and city streets. “I was thinking, ‘What is happening right now?”
“All the propaganda, all the anti-Israel misinformation,” she continued. “At every turn, it was a domino effect. We were drowning in it. We were losing the PR war. You’re watching the rise of antisemitism and people chanting for your destruction around the world.”
The experience deeply impacted her mental state. “It rocked me to my core and kept me up at night,” she admitted.
Since that horrific day, many Jews have come to understand that non-Jews, even the ones who are empathetic and closest to you, are experiencing this tidal wave of Jew-hatred differently. For Emmanuelle, that includes her boyfriend of five years, actor Sam Trammell, who starred as Sam Merlotte in the HBO vampire drama series True Blood.
“The love of my life is not Jewish, she shared, “and he’s had to witness me this past year and a bit. It’s not easy for a partner to be supportive and loving while also openly admitting, ‘I don’t know what it is to be you right now.'”
“I’ll read something and spin out, and he’ll just be like, ‘Oh my God, that’s awful, and I’m so sorry.’ But there is that reality— we had a completely different emotional reaction. When it affects your own people, it affects who you are fundamentally. Everything just changes.”
She explains the rampant anti-Israel propaganda and disinformation that has been brewing on college campuses and within the boycott, divestment, and sanctions (BDS) movement for the last two decades as a part of a historical pattern that recirculates centuries-old anti-Jewish tropes.
“It all boils down to Jew-hatred,” Emmanuelle says. “It’s always been there, but the band-aid was ripped off on October 7.”
The so-called pro-Palestinian movement is not pro-Palestinian, she says, that’s “The Great Lie.” Extremist rhetoric calling for Israel’s destruction overshadows genuine advocacy for the Palestinian people. Emmanuelle laments at how deeply some have “drunk the Kool-Aid.”
“When I see a pro-Palestinian rally without a Hezbollah or Hamas flag or chants for extermination, I’ll believe it’s for the Palestinian people.” The protesters have “hijacked the movement completely, and it’s entirely pro-Hamas,” she asserts.
She takes issue with people deflecting from the core issue by politicizing antisemitism and making it a Left/Right issue. “It is not a political statement to be against antisemitism. It is just like being against any other kind of hate. We must tell people to realize your double standard and bias.”
To Emmanuelle, the claim that Jews are not indigenous to the Middle East and therefore are not Semitic people “feels like an intentional effort to delegitimize us at every turn.” She prefers the term Jew-hatred over antisemitism because it neutralizes that nonsensical contention and makes it very clear you are talking about hate directed at the Jewish people.
The debate over Israel’s right to exist is just as exasperating for her. “The fact that we are even arguing about this is bizarre to me. The goal of Zionism (the reestablishment of a state for the Jewish people in their ancestral land) was achieved in 1948. Why are we going in circles about this? It shouldn’t be an argument. We’re not going anywhere. It’s non-negotiable. How is this even up for debate?!”
It was a trip to the Jewish homeland in December 2023, just weeks after the October massacre, that brought some healing and clarity. Even though she was there in the middle of the war, she felt shielded from the anti-Jewish hate she faced in the States. “When I think about the mental space I was in before getting to Israel…”
While there, she visited extended family, had dinner with friends, and felt connected to the people and the sense of community. “I didn’t want to leave,” she told me.
She also attended a three-day conference at the Tel Aviv Institute led by Hen Mazzig. Her pro-Israel engagement on social media cost her 60,000 Instagram followers, and she felt unprepared for the anti-Israel disinformation and vicious personal attacks in her comments section. She welcomed advice.
At the Institute, she learned that it’s okay for her to “stay in her lane.” She can advocate for Israel by reposting the comments by experts she respects to her millions of fans. “I am not going to say it any better than they are, so I will make my contribution by amplifying their voices.”
“The most impactful thing was that I left with absolute clarity,” she continues. “I am going to stand strong in who I am. I might lose some friends, and I’m going to gain some friends, and that’s okay.”
If she loses a job because she supports Israel, she figures that means they are not supposed to work together. “I am clear that this people, this land, this community healed me.”
We agree there are silver linings. Unlike those who came before us, many of today’s Jews are not hiding or fleeing; they are embracing their Jewishness and speaking out.
And, as Emmanuelle says, “The truth is, we’re not alone; we have allies.”
When I asked what she believes her late parents would be most proud of, Emmanuelle’s answer moved me. “They were always so supportive of me as an artist, but I think they’d be most proud that I haven’t hidden from my Jewish upbringing or identity,” she said. “I know that because my family, my brother and sister, are so proud. And these days, people stop me more to thank me for speaking up for the Jewish people than anything else. It’s wild.”
Emmanuelle believes those affirmations from strangers are whispers from her parents, a reassurance that they are still with her and proud of her chosen path.
*
This article was originally published in The Jerusalem Post Magazine on April 11, 2025.Lana Melman is the CEO of Liberate Art and the author of Artists Under Fire: The BDS War against Celebrities, Jews, and Israel.