Stop Yearning for Legitimization

For 76 years of modern Israeli history, the Jewish nation has yearned for legitimization. An inner motto turned self-conviction—”If we meet internationally imposed requirements, they will acknowledge the full legitimacy of our actions and side with us”—has become ingrained in our DNA, a sentiment rooted in the Jewish experience since the destruction of the Second Temple. For over two thousand years of exile (Galut), Jews have had to navigate the unpredictable hostility of medieval mobs, the zeal of Crusaders, the wrath of drunken Cossacks, the fanaticism of Islamic rulers, the wartime calculations of the U.S. State Department, and the Soviet Union’s Cold War exploitation of the “Jewish card.”

Guided by the ancient wisdom of the Prophet Jeremiah, who advised the exiles in Babylon to “seek the peace of the city where I have caused you to be carried away captive,” and the Talmudic principle of “dina d’malchuta dina” (“the law of the land is the law”), Jews developed a deep respect for the laws and customs of the countries they inhabited. In their pursuit of integration, as with all their endeavors throughout their more than three-thousand-year history, Jews gradually nurtured a strong desire for acceptance from the communities around them. This deep yearning for legitimacy and contribution has become a defining part of our collective identity.

When the first waves of Zionists arrived in the 19th century to lay the foundation for the modern State of Israel, the international community largely remained indifferent to their efforts. While the Balfour Declaration and the San Remo Conference officially recognized the Jewish right to the land, much of the world still regarded cities like Vienna, Warsaw, or Odessa as more quintessentially Jewish than Tel Aviv, Petach Tikvah, or Haifa.

However, in the pre-state years, the Western world began to take notice, surprised by the transformation of a seemingly barren land into the modern, reborn State of Israel. Global perception shifted, yet acceptance of Jewish presence was largely confined to places like Tel Aviv and Petach Tikvah—not to Hebron or Bet El, locations deeply connected to thousands of years of Jewish history in the Land of Israel. The successors of those who had regulated Jewish life in exile for centuries continued this pattern by controlling the scope of Jewish settlement.

Though never explicitly stated, it was no accident that David Ben-Gurion’s unspoken goal was to engineer a new nation free from the need to prove anything to anyone—a deliberate break from the two thousand years of Diaspora, during which Jews were preoccupied with proving their legitimacy. However, the inescapable ties to Jewish history, permanent reminders from the enemies, and profound influence of the Jewish diaspora have slowed this process, keeping Israeli Jews still yearning for legitimization.

In the first 30 years following the rebirth of the Jewish state, a strong spirit of national independence prevailed. However, the quest for international legitimacy gradually led Israel into a crisis of self-doubt. Efforts to gain global approval included the return of Arafat’s gangs under the Rabin-Peres Oslo Accords (1993-1995), the controversial and humiliating nighttime withdrawal from Southern Lebanon under Barak in 2000, and Sharon’s unilateral uprooting of Jewish communities from the Gaza Strip in August 2005. Motivated by the desire for international acceptance, millions of Israeli Jews came to believe that by conforming to external expectations, their actions—or responses to cross-border attacks—would eventually receive unwavering support from those who had conferred this elusive legitimacy

It has taken nearly 20 years of effort to begin undoing the damage caused by the desire to be accepted into the “club” of those who grant legitimacy. The events of October 7th, along with the response from much of the international community, have sobered those who once celebrated this acceptance, temporarily dampening the urge to seek further legitimization. However, the mindset shaped by centuries of Diaspora thinking has only momentarily receded, poised to reemerge in a new form.

This time, the desire for legitimacy has evolved into a narrative that frames the democratically elected government as the sole obstacle to fully legitimizing the pursuit of an existential war. For many Israelis, this belief has become their final psychological lifeline, as all other convictions crumbled within days in October 2023. Months into the war, Israeli Kaplan populists and their international and local enablers cynically exploited the issue of returning hostages, turning it into yet another tool for aligning with international expectations (including the upcoming U.S. elections)—regardless of the cost, the existential consequences, or the deeply felt emotions of the heroic families of the hostages. Once again, Kaplan operatives have shown that their capacity to justify and play the legitimization card knows no bounds. Yesterday, it was judicial reform that seemingly threatened democracy; today, it’s about sealing a deal at any cost, even at the enormous sacrifice of Israeli servicemen. One cannot even rule out that if the international community were to reopen the case of the crucifixion of Jesus Christ, thousands of Israeli Jews might feel compelled to cooperate, fearing it would otherwise tarnish the nation’s image.

The weight of 2,000 years of history profoundly influences our collective conscience. Acknowledging that the so-called “legitimization club” is morally bankrupt and lacks authority could help us transcend this issue. To paraphrase Golda Meir’s remark about genuine peace in the Middle East, we might say that the future of the State of Israel depends on how quickly the Jewish people shift from seeking external validation to focusing on self-interest and mutual respect. As the Jewish population continues to move from the Diaspora to Israel, and more generations are born since the state’s rebirth, the burden of seeking legitimacy steadily decreases, paving the way for a brighter future.