Antisemitism, Balfour, and Palestinian Anger
Why background hatred exists—but grievance became universal
One of the most difficult conversations Israelis face is this:
Are Palestinians driven primarily by hatred of Jews—or by a deep sense of injustice tied to the conflict itself?
For many Israelis, the instinctive answer is: hatred. And that instinct is not baseless.
There is a long and painful history of antisemitic incitement in parts of the Arab and Muslim world, including in Palestine. It existed before Zionism, intensified during the 20th century, and has been amplified at times by religious authorities, nationalist leaders, and later by Islamist movements.
Denying this history undermines peace. It undermines truth.
But stopping there misses the deeper reality. Because while antisemitism formed a background layer, it was not what turned Palestinian opposition into a near-universal national identity. That transformation was driven by something else:
The experience of dispossession—beginning with the Balfour Declaration and its aftermath.
Antisemitism Existed—But It Wasn’t Universal
Before the 20th century, Jews in the Arab world lived as a protected yet subordinate minority. There were periods of tolerance and periods of persecution. Jews were not equal citizens—but they were not the targets of a continuous genocidal campaign. In Palestine itself, antisemitic attitudes existed. But they were not society’s organizing principle.
Jews were a small minority. Most Palestinian Arabs did not wake up thinking about Jews at all.
What changed everything was not religion. It was politics.
Balfour Changed the Meaning of Jewish Presence The Balfour Declaration of 1917 marked a historic shift.
It promised national self-determination in Palestine—not to its Arab inhabitants, but to another people entirely—without consulting them. This was not perceived as immigration. It was experienced as a transfer of sovereignty.
And that distinction changed everything.
Had history followed the path of other former Ottoman territories, the Arabs of Palestine would likely have received self-determination—just as happened in Iraq, Syria, and Lebanon. Instead, they were told that their future would be shaped—or even overruled—by an externally backed national project. From that moment, Zionism was no longer seen as a community seeking refuge. It became, in the eyes of many Palestinians, a political movement with the power to displace them. That perception-regardless of whether one agrees with it—became foundational.
The Injustice Narrative Became Universal. By 1948, a unifying Palestinian narrative had crystallized across nearly all social, political, and religious lines: Not: “We lost a war.” But: “Something was taken from us”. This wasn’t a fringe belief. It wasn’t extremism. It was the default worldview. Crucially, this widespread sense of injustice did not require antisemitic indoctrination. It flowed from lived experience:
• Villages emptied
• Families displaced
• A refugee status that became generational
Even Palestinians who rejected violence absorbed the same core belief:
That their loss was not just painful—it was illegitimate.
And that’s why the grievance became universal while antisemitism did not.
Education Reinforced Grievance—Not Hatred
Palestinian textbooks reflect this narrative.
They frame the Nakba as an injustice. They teach the right of return as an entitlement. They largely omit:
• The UN partition plan
• Arab leadership’s role in rejecting compromise
• The Israeli narrative of existential survival
But critically, they do not center religious hatred of Jews.
The curriculum is national, not racial or theological. The deeper emotional transmission often comes outside the classroom—through family memory, refugee camps, memorial days, and lived experience. In other words:
The school system reinforces a grievance that already exists. It does not create it from scratch.
Hamas Did Not Create the Grievance—It Amplified It
Hamas adds a dangerous religious layer: Holy war, sacred land, eternal conflict. That matters.
But Hamas did not invent the grievance.
It weaponized it. This helps explain a paradox that often baffles Israelis:
Why do some Palestinians who say they support Hamas also say they support a two-state solution?
The answer is not ideological consistency.
It is emotional consistency. For many, support for Hamas is not about Islamism.
It’s an expression of rage, despair, and humiliation—a reaction to perceived powerlessness.
Why This Distinction Matters
If Palestinian hostility were rooted primarily in eternal antisemitism, then peace would be impossible. No policy would matter. No gesture would reach. But the evidence suggests otherwise.
What unites Palestinians is not hatred of Jews as Jews. It is a widespread belief that they were wronged—and that this wrong has never been acknowledged or repaired in a way that feels real. That belief can harden into hatred. It can be exploited by radicals. But it can also, under the right conditions, be redirected.
History shows:
Foundational narratives don’t disappear because they’re disproven.
They fade when a new, credible future becomes visible.
The Path Forward: Not Erasure—But Reframing
This is why peace efforts cannot focus only on security and borders. They must also address grievance—not by denying it, but by transforming it.
Not through slogans, but through tangible horizons. MmNot through fantasy, but through rational hope.
• Not return to the past, but restitution
• Not denial, but acknowledgment
• Not revenge, but a structure for coexistence
Final Thought
Ignoring antisemitism is dishonest. Ignoring the psychological impact of Balfour is fatal. True peace will require understanding both—And building a political process that doesn’t just manage pain, but redefines what justice looks like—for both peoples.
