We have to talk about Israel—and so much more

An acquaintance I haven’t spoken with in over a decade recently equated me to a white supremacist. 

The exchange stemmed from a social media post I made following my experience as a member of the Hatikvah delegation to the World Zionist Congress in Jerusalem. 

This person saw the word “Zionist” and other Israel-related headlines on my page, and that was all they needed to make up their mind about me. 

They started with an anti-Zionist comment on my post. Not one to indulge in social media fights and certainly averse to welcoming such on my page, I promptly deleted the comment. I messaged the individual, letting them know precisely why I removed the comment. I did not pass judgement on the substance of the comment, and I suggested we have a real conversation to discuss our perspectives. 

This person did not acknowledge my invitation. Instead, they shared without comment a borderline antisemitic video reel making a faulty case for Israel’s dissolution. 

Again, I offered to have a conversation. This time, I was rebuffed with claims that I supported colonization and genocide. They compared my views to those of Christian nationalists and white supremacists and stated that they had no interest in having a discussion about that. Seconds later, they unfriended me.

This exchange would be jarring for many Jews regardless of who it was with. But what made it so shocking was that this wasn’t some stranger, some faceless online troll, or even someone confronted at a protest. This was someone I had spent significant time with in my life, albeit more than ten years ago. 

There was enough of a personal connection that I presumed a civil conversation of our perspectives would be considered safe and approached with sincere curiosity—or at least the temptation to actually shift my mindset.

But this person wanted none of that. They dismissed any shared history we had and decided from a few far-from-comprehensive social media posts that they knew all there was to know about me.

And that’s a shame. Because I am none of those labels lobbed at me. And while I imagine we would have ultimately agreed to disagree, perhaps some mutual understanding would have taken place. 

While I proudly support a Jewish and democratic Israel, had they talked with me they would have discovered that I–like my employer, the pro-Israel, pro-democracy organization J Street–also oppose the occupation and support a Palestinian state with security and self-determination for its citizens. 

While I abhor the events of October 7 and have been advocating with J Street for the release of every hostage, had they talked with me they would know that I strongly disagreed with how the war was executed by the Israeli government and think it is inhumane to use food and humanitarian aid as leverage.

While I believe Hamas is a terror organization that cannot have a role in the region’s future, had they talked with me they would realize that I know there are moderate Palestinians who must be empowered to be peacemakers. 

And while I believe that the Jewish people have a history with the land, had they talked with me they would know that I believe Palestinians also have one.

We have seen Israel become a wedge issue in American society and increasingly in liberal and progressive circles. Yet we are in a pivotal moment for our country with our democracy itself being severely tested. Division is the strategy of authoritarian forces in America, and it is taking hold.

This should be a concern for all Americans and Jews in particular. And within the Jewish community, we have the added worry of growing antisemitism, too.

We have dealt with right-wing, white-supremacist antisemitism for decades, but what is recently new is its development on the left—stemming in part from the struggle for Palestinian liberation and the conflation of Israeli policies with all Jews. It is the latter that is relatively more likely to cross over into the social circles of Jewish Americans, given our own political leanings. And though it is not easy or fair, it is on us to do the outreach and bridgebuilding, to put ourselves out there.

Because antisemitism metastasizes with othering. And othering only grows if we isolate ourselves as a Jewish community, which is tempting at a time when many feel less safe. It is easier to hate faceless entities that lack complexity. We will counter that by building relationships.

I can’t say for certain that my acquaintance was harboring antisemitic sentiments; I was sadly not afforded the opportunity for further exploration. But it is unfortunately too easy today to see where the path they are on leads if left unchecked.

For some of us, recent attacks on Jews and reports of antisemitism have felt far-removed. But the trends are closer to home for all of us than we may realize.

To stave off the looming threats to American democracy and Jewish Americans, we must proactively talk with each other—especially those with whom we disagree. Reject the ploys to separate us from our most likely allies, and acknowledge and sit in allyship with our discomfort and differences–for even in those spaces, common ground can be found.

That is how Jewish safety remains strong. That is the only way democracy succeeds. And it is the only way ours will survive.