‘Antisemitic’ dating app Hinge banned me for Israeli army pic, says tech founder who spent months fighting Hamas
A startup founder says the popular dating app Hinge permanently banned him after he posted a profile picture dressed in his Israeli military uniform toting a machine gun.
Noy Leyb blames antisemitism for his expulsion from Hinge and Tinder, which are both owned by Match Group, and has demanded an explanation.
The hunky New Yorker returned home earlier this month after more than four months fighting Hamas with his elite reserves unit in the Israel Defense Forces.
He told The Post he was “shocked” and “disappointed” when the popular dating app informed him that he was “in violation” of its terms and guidelines.
The site didn’t identify what the violation was, but Leyb is convinced it was because of his IDF uniform picture.
“This is the dating app that bills itself as the one ‘designed to be deleted,’” the 32-year-old fumed. “But I was the one who wound up being deleted.”
On Oct. 7, he dropped everything “out of necessity rather than desire” when he saw the carnage unfolding and decided within hours to leave his cushy life in New York to “fight Hamas and bring our hostages back home.”
After returning from war, Leyb said he was looking forward to resuming his “regular” life that was sidelined, including dating.
“Finding love is my top priority,” said the five-foot-eleven University of Michigan grad. Leyb added that he wants to start a Jewish family.
He said that the philosophy of Hinge, which involves multiple prompts in an effort to match people based on core beliefs, inspired him to post a recent picture of himself in uniform and holding a machine gun called a Negev, with a caption that said he’s proud of his Israeli service.
But within days of returning to New York and checking the app, he was suddenly banned from Hinge, along with sister company, Tinder. Both sites are owned by Match Group.
“I’m not one to blame antisemitism right away, but this is it. Nothing else explains this,” he said. “I’ve never done anything wrong.”
The tech founder immediately appealed the unceremonious ban, writing to the company: “I have never disrespected anyone on this platform. The only reason why I see Hinge removing my profile is because I’m Jewish, and whoever was responsible for my removal is antisemitic.”
The IDF reservist suspected that the flimsy basis for his ban rests with Hinge’s terms – that “members will not promote physical, emotional, and psychological abuse, harm, harassment, hate or discrimination” – but insisted that he’s done nothing wrong.
“If I had said something inappropriate, or put a fake picture or lied about something – which people do and still don’t get banned – I would maybe understand,” he said.
“But every conversation has been respectful. Nothing was mentioned about Gaza or fighting Hamas. Nothing.”
An email from the Hinge Trust & Safety Team claimed that Leyb was “in violation of our Terms of Service and our Community Guidelines. Therefore your account will remain banned. This decision is informed and final and subsequent appeals will not be considered.”
Match Group did not respond to a request for comment on Sunday.
“The only thing on my profile that’s changed is my picture,” said an exasperated Leyb.
While serving in the Israeli military, he built a formidable social media presence with nearly 25,000 Instagram followers, who gobbled up his posts about subsisting on cans of tuna, rescuing abandoned dogs in Gaza and videos revealing storehouses full of guns, grenades, and rockets in Palestinian preschools.
Military service and online dating has been somewhat of a landmine in recent years, as some servicemen reported instances of hostility and accusations, such as an opening line asking, “How many people have you killed?”
But Leyb chalked up the baseless hatred to “anti-Israel propaganda,” which he said felt pervasive once he returned to New York.
“Friends are removing the mezuzahs outside their doors and changing their names” to less Jewish-sounding ones on ride-sharing apps, out of fear of an unprovoked attack, he said.
“People are scared. But I’m proud to be a Jew and proud of my service fighting after my people went through a nightmare – torture, rape, and murder – simply for their Jewish identity.”
Leyb said he’s prepared to share the reality of what he saw in Gaza.
“I made an extra effort to look for signs of peace everywhere, but hope was scarce,” he said. “Nearly every home we searched showed support for Hamas – weapons concealed under beds, maps revealing terror tunnels, and even symbols of Hamas displayed proudly on flags or hats.”
What broke his heart was encountering the empty bedroom of a young girl in northern Gaza that was painted pink with butterflies on one wall, and had photos of convicted terrorists on the other. “I couldn’t help but wonder why this little girl looked up to these monsters instead of looking up to inspiring women, athletes or even celebrities,” Leyb said.
Before he returns to Israel to fight later in the spring, Leyb, who lamented how political activism bleeds “into everything – even dating,” is committed to touring the US and speak to non-Jewish groups, hoping to educate them about the reality for Jews in Israel and around the world.
“The pervasive hatred towards Jews in Gaza, fueled by Hamas propaganda, must be stopped—both in Gaza and around the world.”
And, maybe, he said, he’ll have time to meet the girl of his dreams, too. He’ll just have to find her the old-fashioned way.
