Have hope in Zionism

Last month, the Tikvah Fund awarded the Herzl Prize to three of the most influential voices in American Jewry: Dan Senor, Bari Weiss, and Ben Shapiro. During the discussion, the panelists grappled with the future of American Jewish identity, but the most fundamental point emerged only in the final moments, when they were asked a deceptively simple question: How should we raise the next generation of Jewish children?

The answers diverged along predictable lines. For Shapiro, an Orthodox Jew, the answer was self-evident: send them to shul, where Judaism is lived primarily as a formal religion. However, for Senor and Weiss, representing the secular wing, the answer was more ambivalent. They astutely recognized that, in the current climate, defining Judaism solely as a religion functions as a strategic antisemitic trap. By stripping Jewish identity of its national and cultural dimensions, contemporary progressivism is able to stigmatize modern Jews – Zionist and non-Zionist alike – as symbols of Western wrongdoing. The result is a narrow and suffocating definition of Jewish identity, one that permits Diaspora Jews to be deemed “good Jews” only so long as they remain religiously privatized and politically passive.

Yet, there is a striking irony in how we respond to this trap. When pressed for a positive vision, even thinkers as bold as Senor and Weiss leaned on familiar, defensive solutions: strengthening the communal “bubble” through Jewish schools and summer camps. It is undeniable that a dedicated Jewish space is essential for identity, but space alone is not a strategy. We must remember that the Shtetl was also a uniquely Jewish space; however, it was a space defined by its lack of agency. It was a world where Jews were spectators to their own fate–disconnected from the levers of power and dependent on the whims of a world that did not always want them.

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This passivity was the default Jewish condition for centuries. It was only the arrival of two modern phenomena that finally transformed Jews from historical subjects into historical actors: Liberalism and Zionism. The combined success of these two interpretations was staggering, enabling an unprecedented flourishing of Jewish life in both the United States and the State of Israel. Yet, we have reached a dangerous turning point. Today, the global assault on the West is, at its core, an assault on the very liberalism and modernity that afforded Jews their seat at the table. Much like the liberal rupture of the 1930s, when the Enlightenment’s promises suddenly buckled under the weight of totalizing ideologies, this current crisis threatens to leave Diaspora Jewry defenseless – stripping away their modern protections and once again making their security dependent on the shifting tolerance of others.

This vulnerability has resurfaced with a vengeance over the last two years. As we face an increasingly uncertain global future, survival can no longer be guaranteed by international norms alone; it will require ideological flexibility and the operational agency to shape our own destiny.

This is precisely where the contemporary relevance of Zionism re-emerges, not as a historical relic, but as a survival strategy. We often forget that Zionism was never merely a movement for national self-determination; it was a radical, revolutionary project to create a new Jewish experience. It was a deliberate strike against the era of religious and political passivity; the end of waiting for the Messiah or the kindness of kings. In its place, it built a Jewish identity that is an integral, active, and unapologetic participant in the modern world.

This shift in mindset – from being an object of history to its subject – is not merely an abstract ideal; it is the engine behind a specific set of cultural traits. Zionism is characterized by improvisation, collectivism, and a radical belief in the ability to change reality. From the resilience of Israel’s high-tech industry to its particularly high birth rates and military endurance, the “effectiveness” of this worldview is undeniable. It represents a brand of Zionism that does not require blind identification with any specific government, but rather an immersion in a secular Jewish experience. This experience lives in the streets of Tel Aviv and in the modern Hebrew language – a tongue revived not to read the Bible, but to describe their fears, express their desires, and engage emotionally with a reality in flux.

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Paradoxically, this project does not “speak” only to Jews. It resonates with anyone who wishes to reclaim a sense of agency in a world that feels increasingly hollow. As Dan Senor noted at the event, Christian visitors often find the most meaning not in IDF bases or historical sites, but in a moment of pure human connection: “Shabbat dinner in the home of an Israeli, watching the parents bless their children.”

In this sense, the movement to boycott Zionism is not merely an attack on a nation-state. It is a campaign against the very values of agency, family, and modern vitality. To abandon Zionism is to retreat back to the passivity of the past; to embrace it is to ensure that the Jewish story remains a central, driving force in the future of the West. If we wish to raise children who are not merely “safe,” but who are confident architects of their own destiny, we must realize that the Zionist revolution is far from over – it is only just becoming relevant again.

That blessing – shared across a table in a modern, sovereign home – is the ultimate expression of the Zionist revolution. It is the sound of a people who have collectively refused to be victims of history, choosing instead to build a new, shared reality. It represents an identity anchored in ancient bonds but driven by a modern, activist spirit that walks boldly into the future.

Viewed through this lens, the attempt to boycott Zionism is revealed as something far more profound than a political dispute. It is not just a strike against a state; it is a campaign against this very spirit of collective vitality and agency. To defend Zionism is to defend the idea that a people can take their fate into their own hands, improvising and building a new culture that is both deeply rooted and entirely modern. In an era of global decline, Zionism stands as a living, breathing testament to the Western experience – a reminder that the future is not something to be waited for, as it belongs to those who are brave enough to create it.