15 Years of Bad Israeli Policy on Palestine Has Fueled the Flames of Modern Antisemitism

Young people have seen nothing from the Israeli government but violence against and dehumanization of the Palestinians; no wonder antisemitism is on the rise.

There is no way to scientifically prove what is causing the rise of antisemitism in modern times, but we can advance theories.  

Some of it is clearly connected with burgeoning white nationalist populism around the world, which scapegoats racial, ethnic and religious minorities for the world’s problems. Blame for the mass shooting at the Tree of Life synagogue in Pittsburg can squarely be placed on this ideology.

Many believe that growing Jew-hatred among the political left accounts for additional growth in antisemitism, including the hot rhetoric and inexcusable antisemitic conduct emanating from college campuses since the October 7 Hamas terrorist attack and Israel’s war in Gaza.

This sentiment was expressed in a recent Bret Stephens column in which he asked, “Where does all this hatred come from?” He then fences off one particular explanation for modern antisemitism, writing: “If your answer is Israel, then … you aren’t explaining antisemitism; you’re replicating it.”

In this one sharp sentence, Stephens makes two claims.

First, he categorically rejects the possibility that Israeli government policy could be contributing to the global rise of antisemitism. And second, even though he is a frequent critic of cancel culture, he attempts to shut down debate over any linkage between Israeli policy and growing antisemitism by asserting that even mentioning a connection between the two is an antisemitic act in and of itself. 

I disagree with Stephens on both counts.

I am convinced that much of the antisemitism we are seeing on college campuses and some elements of broader society has been fueled by almost 15 years of absolutely horrible Israeli government policy on Palestine. The large-scale anti-Israel animus these policies have generated among many is being expressed, by some, as antisemitic hatred of Jews more generally. This is deeply disturbing and totally unacceptable. However, pretending that the metastasizing antisemitism we’ve witnessed in recent years has nothing to do with Israeli government policy is an exercise in denial. 

Of course, I also reject the idea that even voicing this sentiment is a form of antisemitic discourse. Otherwise, I would not be writing this post. 

My intuition about the genesis of increasing antisemitism comes from comparing how I conceptualized Israel as a young person to what the current young generation has observed about Israel during its intellectually formative years. 

As I came of age in the 1970s and early 80s, I saw Israel exclusively in heroic terms.

Israel, for me, was a place where Jews had fabulously built something unique and special in the wake of the Holocaust – a country where Jews could be openly Jewish and could thrive. And Israelis had done much to reverse the stereotype that Jews were weak and vulnerable by successfully defending themselves against powerful Arab nations who desired, like the Nazis, to exterminate them. I also admired the core democratic and pluralistic values of Israel as reflected in its Declaration of Independence:

[Israel] will foster the development of the country for the benefit of all its inhabitants; it will be based on freedom, justice and peace as envisaged by the prophets of Israel; it will ensure complete equality of social and political rights to all its inhabitants irrespective of religion, race or sex; it will guarantee freedom of religion, conscience, language, education and culture; it will safeguard the Holy Places of all religions; and it will be faithful to the principles of the Charter of the United Nations.

Finally, I viewed Israel’s creation story in miraculous terms – how Israelis turned the malarial swamps into verdant farms, outfoxed British immigration authorities to smuggle in Holocaust survivors, and fought off huge Arab armies with improvised weaponry and crafty tactics. The swashbuckling Ari Ben Canaan from the novel and movie Exodus was my modern Jewish-Israeli hero – clever, strong, fearless, and tough. 

As I grew older, I came to understand the many distortions embedded in my mythological understanding of Israel, especially that Israel’s creation as a nation-state had come at the direct expense of many hundreds of thousands of Palestinians who were forcefully displaced or scared away from their homes during and after the 1948 war.

Now, more aware that both Israelis and Palestinians had legitimate grievances and interests at stake in the conflict, I experienced the late 1980s and 1990s as times when I saw Israel as engaged in a much needed peace-making process that reflected and were consistent with the values that attracted me to Israel in the first place. While the history of this period is far too intricate to detail in this short post, I spent these decades rooting for Israel to achieve what I thought was its core objective -- to have security within defined and defensible borders and live in peace with its neighbors. I remember with great hope the signing of the Oslo Accords and the Rabin-Arafat handshake on the White House lawn, which took concrete steps toward this goal, but also the deep sadness and foreboding I felt at the news that Rabin had assassinated, shamefully by a fellow Jew, knowing that the cause of peace had been dealt a serious blow.

Compare these formative experiences to what my children have seen from Israel as they have matured since 2009, when Benjamin Netanyahu began his uninterrupted 12-year reign as Prime Minister (and then regained office in 2023).

Unlike virtually all his predecessors, Netanyahu unapologetically abandoned any pretense of advancing some form of a negotiated peace with the Palestinians, shifting instead to a policy of permanent Israeli occupation of three million Palestinians in the West Bank and an unending blockade of two million Palestinians living in Gaza. In doing so, he contravened international law by abandoning the framework of U.N. Security Council Resolution 242, which called for a “just and lasting peace” through Israeli military withdrawal from all occupied territories and recognition of Israel’s “right to live in peace within secure and recognized borders.” Netanyahu also did everything he could to undermine the Oslo Accords by undercutting the key institutional foundation of that agreement – the Palestinian Authority (PA). The PA has never been a model government, but by the mid-2000’s it had made great strides in providing security and services and establishing a successful free-market economy. Instead of continuing to nurture the PA, Netanyahu gutted it because its success would have enabled the two-state solution to move forward, which Netanyahu deeply opposed.

Prior to Netanyahu’s time in office, Israel used force many times in response to acts of terrorism and to quell violent uprisings. However, these actions could at least be seen in the broader context of Israel protecting its security while simultaneously attempting to achieve peace. But once Netanyahu deserted the Oslo Process, Israel’s security activities in the West Bank and Gaza have been perceived by many to be only in furtherance of its permanent occupation of Palestinian territory and control of Palestinian people.

Whereas I grew up seeing Israel as the scrappy underdog that used force legitimately to protect itself while actively seeking diplomatic solutions to conflict, the current generation has perceived Israel exclusively as an oppressor, using violence and government power to prevent Palestinians from achieving some form of liberation. 

Consider what today’s young adults have been exposed to about Israel during the past fifteen years, primarily through the unfiltered lens of social media: frequent military operations in the West Bank, large-scale, rapid expansion of illegal Israeli settlements; checkpoints making it impossible for Palestinians to move freely; home demolitions of Palestinian property; police or military action killing young Palestinian men; and, most dramatically, three devastating military campaigns in Gaza since 2008 (including the current one), resulting in thousands of civilian casualties, widespread infrastructure destruction, and collapse of public services. 

And most heartbreakingly, today’s young generation have observed something I never had to grapple with during my early years, the emergence of Jewish bigots in Israel and even among Israeli government ministers, who engage in dehumanizing rhetoric and deny that the Palestinians have any right to self-determination and human rights (see examples here,  here, and here). It is hardly a good look for the younger generation when Israelis are referring to civilian casualties in Gaza as “mowing the lawn.”

Should it really come as any surprise with this backdrop that today’s generation of young people approach this issue with deep hostility towards Israel and in sympathy with Palestinian civilians?

By making this observation, I am not excusing how hatred of Israeli government policy has far too easily morphed into antisemitic rhetoric and conduct on our college campuses or among street protestors around the globe. 

Casting aspersion on all Jews for actions of the current Israeli administration is antisemitic. Claiming that all Jews are oppressors is antisemitic. Getting angry only about Israeli violation of human rights against Palestinians while ignoring equally bad or worse human rights violations against Palestinians by Hamas are forms of antisemitism too.

The anti-Israel activists and the intellectual left who engage in this rhetoric deserve all the criticism they have received for allowing their ideas and verbiage to be infected with antisemitic tropes and conspiracy theories. I am neither condoning nor excusing their intellectual laziness.

However, I believe that those of us who admire Israel and continue to hope for its success must admit that that Israel’s policy shift from searching for an elusive peace with the Palestinians to imposing permanent occupation has come at a serious cost. It has provided kindling for the pre-existing flame of antisemitism that has plagued the world for centuries. That flame was confined and manageable as I was growing up, but it has now burst out of control.  

Pointing this out is not “replicating” antisemitism as Stephens claims.

It is acknowledging reality.

Until there is a dramatic change in how Israel addresses the Palestinian situation, hopefully triggered by the current crisis, I fear that my children will experience a world that is far more antisemitic than the one of my youth.