Am I a Propagandist Tool? Do I Spread Lies?

I’ve always considered myself an honest person. After retiring from a long career as a Big 4 consulting partner, I look back with pride, believing I acted with integrity. But now, as I vocally support Israel—especially on LinkedIn since October 7, 2023—that integrity is questioned. I’ve been called a propagandist, a liar, even a mouthpiece for a genocidal state. And I suspect many more silently judge me.

So I ask myself: Am I spreading lies? Have I lost objectivity? Or am I right to stand my ground in a world that has shifted in ways I couldn’t have anticipated?

This is not an objective blog. It’s a personal reflection—flawed, human, and sincere. The criticism I’ve faced has forced me to pause and wrestle with questions that challenge my beliefs and actions. What drives me to write so passionately? Am I truly free from coercion or incentive, or could my loyalty to Israel cloud my judgment? Do I condone war—or worse, turn a blind eye to claims of genocide? Has the IDF, which I support, crossed ethical lines I struggle to admit?

As a Zionist, could I unknowingly harbor biases that veer toward prejudice? Am I genuinely open to peace with Palestinians, seeking perspectives beyond my own echo chamber? Have I chosen a side so firmly that I overlook others’ rights to call this land home? What if I’m wrong—about specific events or the broader truths I hold? If I stood in the shoes of those on the other side, would my heart see differently?

Can any side in this conflict be wholly right or wrong, or does evil lurk in the extremes? And as a religious Jew, does my faith—as some insist—carry seeds of hatred?

I have tried to examine these questions, fairly.

I write without coercion or incentive. No one pays or pressures me. I write because I care deeply about my country, its people, and the truth as I see it. I also write because many stay silent while opposing voices dominate. These reflections build on a different view via Q&A I shared on LinkedIn:

I abhor war. It brings devastation, pain, and irreversible loss. I didn’t vote for the current Israeli government and reject its extremist elements. I support, however, the IDF as an institution, believing it operates with a moral compass stronger than any other army facing similar threats. Mistakes happen, and rogue individuals or commanders who act wrongly should be held accountable. But I do not believe the IDF is a tool of genocide.

My son, who serves with pride and moral clarity, is not a war criminal. I wish he didn’t have to fight, but I am proud of him. I don’t believe the IDF targets civilians. When Hamas launched its brutal attack on October 7 and embedded itself within civilian infrastructure—as noted in the 2019 NATO report—Israel was forced into a tragic, complex war. I don’t like the choices we’ve faced and the tragedy that has unfolded, but I understand them. History—like the actions of Allied forces in WWII, including my grandfather’s—shows that moral decisions in wartime are rarely clean.

I am a Zionist. I believe in the Jewish people’s right to a homeland in the Land of Israel, rooted in history, faith, and justice. I reject, however, racism in all forms, believing all people—regardless of race, religion, or creed—are created equal.

I yearn for peace with the Palestinians, but it requires mutual recognition. It cannot exist while their leadership and many within their population reject the Jewish people’s right to exist here. Before October 7, I was more hopeful, supporting painful compromises like the 2005 Gaza withdrawal. But that day—and the widespread support for it—shattered my optimism. When only 9% of Palestinians believe October 7 was an attack on civilians, according to a 2024 poll, we face a profound moral chasm: PCPSR Poll.

I consume news from across the spectrum and challenge my views. Living here shapes my perspective. I trust the IDF and Israeli and U.S. intelligence more than Hamas, the UN, or certain European agencies—not out of blind faith, but lived experience. I fact-check and avoid spreading misinformation. I don’t criticize the IDF lightly, but I don’t ignore its faults. I acknowledge tragic failures in aid delivery, but I reject claims that these are deliberate. Meanwhile, Hamas and other groups steal 87% of UN-delivered aid and starve hostages—a stark moral inversion: Aid Theft Post.

Yes, I am biased. I’ve chosen a side. I’m not Switzerland. I live here, with skin in the game, and I support the side I believe is morally right. Yet I believe in equal rights for all—Jews, Arabs, Christians, Druze, and others—as long as they aren’t actively working to destroy the state. This is a democracy, and it must remain one.

Could I be wrong? Of course—about specific events or broader truths. But I strive to stay open while trusting my judgment. If I were on the other side, I hope I’d see through propaganda painting Israel as evil, though I understand how grief and loss cloud judgment. I’ve lost friends and seen close friends lose children since October 7. I would hope I’d acknowledge that Hamas and its Iranian backers have been agents of terror for too long.

As a student of politics and a Brit who grew up during the Cold War, I know no side is entirely right. I took sides then, accepting the West’s faults but believing it was on the right side—just as in WWII. Similarly, I believe Israel is held to a standard no other nation faces, accused of crimes not for what we do, but for who we are: Jews, seen as colonizers in our ancestral homeland.

There is evil in this world. Hamas’s charter calls for Israel’s destruction and the murder of Jews, citing a Hadith urging the killing of Jews. Not all Palestinians or Muslims share this view, but too many do. Western liberals often fail to grasp this, believing democracy and reform can fix everything. In our region, those tools have often failed—as seen in Syria, Yemen, Sudan, and Iran.

The Palestinians in Gaza are among the greatest victims of Hamas’s October 7 attack—meticulously planned with tunnels and social media campaigns to shape public perception. The death of any innocent—regardless of nationality—is a wound to my belief that all are created equal by G-d.

Judaism, in its mainstream forms, does not preach hatred. Every religion has extremists—mine included. I believe G-d created all humans equal, and faith guides my moral battles, shaped by my circumstances. I don’t live in Gaza, but I live with a terminal illness, so I understand pain and hardship.

I don’t claim all the answers or full objectivity. I claim sincerity. My views are shaped by experience, history, faith, and concern for my country’s future. I grieve deeply for the loss of innocent lives everywhere—including in Gaza—and recognize that truth in conflict is rarely simple. But moral clarity matters. Standing up for what I believe is right—even when unpopular—is part of living with integrity.

I welcome respectful disagreement and dialogue. If we are to move toward peace, understanding, and coexistence, it will be through honest conversations—not slogans or silence. I write not to convince everyone, but to share my truth and invite others to reflect on theirs.