There Are No Allies, Only Wars

How the Word ‘Ally’ Became Overused, Underserved,  & Meaningless

Way before the October 7 war, I declared war on the word ‘ally’ as it had become one of the most footballed, if not bastardized idioms, losing all its implied, well-meaning meaning. Whenever I hear someone barf up—with exuberance—”ally”, I cringe—because all I can think about is how phony this person sounds. For me, ally has become another platitude, tossed into a chopped-up word salad of meaningless blather, used to take sides in conflicts people have no business chiming in on. (You know who you are and what you misguidedly rally for. Can you say Columbia University ten times fast?)

My use of the word is clear, cut, and dry. An ally is a person, a group, or a country that actively stands with another in times of crisis—not just in words but in deeds. The ultimate example? The nations that helped America win World War II, liberating Jews from concentration camps and securing democracy in the process. That empirical alliance led to the creation of NATO and solidified the United States as a global superpower in the process. It was a win-win for the world.

Now, that ally has lost its true meaning—just watch CNN—so too is America losing its status as a dominant force in the world. The global response to Trump 2.0 has only accelerated our perception and decline. Longtime NATO allies—those we’ve stood beside since defeating the Nazis—and then some—are questioning the strength and reliability of the United States in light of the recent speech Trump made to Congress on Tuesday night. We are being seen as a potential danger to peace and stability.

[SIDEBAR] Ally became a politically correct buzzword between the LGBTQIA+ community since Marriage Equality and more recently in the wake of George Floyd’s murder, when corporations, influencers, and everyday people rushed to declare their support. Much of the performative allyship—perhaps the cringiest word of all —have been reduced to fleeting gestures instead of lasting commitments.

As someone who has always considered himself an ally—scratch that—a friend and supporter of women, people of color, Democrats, progressives, and even, in some cases, conservatives—October 7 was a wake-up call. The silence since then has been deafening. The excuses are endless or non-existent. Suddenly, the same people who prided themselves on being allies have fallen short if not mute.

And worst of all? Many of them are assimilated Jews. During World War II, there was a name for Jews who turned their backs on their own: Kapos. Today, we see echoes of that. Especially  those Jews who are taking Hamas’ side—but don’t get me started before I turn the word “solidarity” into a C-word.

Meanwhile non-assimilated Jews—or no-longer-assimilated Jews, like me—have had to come to terms with a painful realization, one my sister Vivian has been saying for years, “We are on our own.”

Watching the antisemitic vitriol spilling into the streets, the sheer vile anger spewing from masked wildebeests, it’s clear they see our existence as a problem to be erased. Girls, you are barking up the wrong tree, dogs that you are.

But here’s the rub—for the antisemites, that is: We’ve been to this rodeo before and if anyone’s getting thrown off the bull, it sure ain’t gonna be us.

Jews have been bull riders, tightrope walkers, and underground partisans for millennia—balancing the unthinkable, holding on against impossible odds, and fighting back when the world tries to erase us.

Those who speak of us as though we are meaningless, become meaningless. History has shown that since we originated in Judea where Mount Zion is. So, get it through your thick skulls, Jews and Zionists are words with far deeper history that those who seek to destroy us. Take note: those who try to erase us end up fading into irrelevance.

We are here!

Love…ABE…who you know won’t be silent.