Love or Treason? Diaspora Breaks Its Silence on Israel’s Democratic Decline

In May 2025, a group of 64 prominent Jewish philanthropists from the U.S., U.K., Australia, and Israel sent a powerful letter to Israel’s Foreign Minister, denouncing a proposed bill that would impose an 80% tax on foreign donations to Israeli NGOs. They called the bill “cynical, dangerous, and undemocratic,” warning that it threatens civil society, undermines democratic norms, damages Israel’s international reputation and risks alienating Jewish communities around the world.

Proponents of the bill claim it protects Israel’s sovereignty by curbing foreign influence. But the philanthropists rightly argue that the law would deliberately cripple nearly 100 organizations, especially those working on human rights, social justice, and equality. They highlight the bill’s provision allowing the Israeli Finance Minister to selectively exempt certain NGOs – a loophole ripe for political abuse. International aid organizations, including Doctors Without Borders, have also warned that the law could obstruct their humanitarian work.

Following this outcry, reports suggest that the government may be reconsidering the bill – proof that international and Jewish Diaspora pressure works. But this letter is more than just a policy critique. It represents a watershed moment in the Diaspora’s relationship with Israel.

While Diaspora Jews have criticized Israeli policies before, the tone, and prominence of the authors of this letter make it uniquely powerful. It reflects a shift: more liberal and centrist Jews around the world are no longer willing to remain silent as Israel’s democracy erodes. Instead, they do the right and Jewish thing – they raise their voices -out of love, not betrayal.

Almost simultaneously, a different group of over 30 North American Jewish leaders released a call for unity. They argued that, given the gravity of the moment, public criticism of Israel should be avoided.

To those voices calling for unity at all costs, I say this:

Israel is indeed in crisis—socially, economically, politically, and in terms of national security. It is being condemned by traditional allies such as the U.S., France, and the U.K. The judicial overhaul, far-right ministers, and the deepening rift between military service and ultra-Orthodox exemptions are all taking a toll. Some citizens have served over 300 days in reserves; others, like Housing Minister Yitzhak Goldknopf, dance at a wedding to anti-IDF songs. Government critics (e.g., the Minister of Defense and the head of the Shin Bet) are fired in the middle of the war, military camps are attacked, and convicted criminals sit in ministerial roles. Meanwhile, returning hostages rely on crowdfunding to rebuild their lives.

And yet, the government funnels billions to political allies, while bereaved families and hostage relatives are harassed for not thanking the state. Ministers openly call to disobey the supreme court. Israel is at war with itself.

This is not about left or right. This is a battle for Israel’s soul—its democracy, its independence, and its moral compass. Calls for “unity” have become a political weapon to silence dissent. “Don’t criticize—we’re at war,” they say. But that’s how the war never ends. That’s how we reach the absurd situation where Israelis who never served in the army call those serving in combat units ‘traitors’—simply because they protest government policies and are accused of sowing disunity.

True unity is not blind allegiance. It’s the ability to debate, to challenge, to hold one another accountable. Our tradition teaches us to “hug and wrestle.” That tension—between solidarity and critique—is not our weakness; it is our strength. Criticism is not betrayal. It is love in action.

Some have compared this moment to the destruction of the Second Temple, blaming division and baseless hatred. But the better historical analogy may be the Bar Kokhba revolt: a time of messianic fervor, nationalist zeal, and religious extremism that led to catastrophic defeat. Today’s ultra-nationalist and messianic elements in the Israeli government echo those dangerous impulses, threatening Israel’s future.

And we must not overlook the battle for public opinion. While we cannot change the minds of anti-Israel voices or antisemites, we, as Diaspora Jews, have a critical role in communicating Israel’s position to audiences who are open to listening. But when we automatically defend the Israeli government in the name of ‘unity,’ we risk losing our credibility.

To remain silent is to be complicit.

Let me end with a modified version of Pastor Martin Niemöller’s famous warning:

First they came for the left-wing Israelis, and I did not speak out – because I was not a left-wing Israeli.
Then they came for the Defense Minister, the IDF Chief of Staff, the Head of the Shin Beit, the judges, and I did not speak out – because I was not one of them.
Then they came for the kibbutzniks, the pilots, the hostage families –
And I did not speak out – because I was not one of them either.
Then they came for me – a Diaspora philanthropist who funds an NGO to help the vulnerable – And there was no one left to speak for me.

We are not there yet, but we are limping toward the edge of a cliff. Let’s not fall silent. Instead of calling for unity, we should call for respect to the rule of law and tolerance for opinions that do not support the government.

—

This op-ed is dedicated to the 58 hostages who remain in Gaza, now enduring 600 days in hell. Bring them home now.