When Israel Stands Alone: The Warnings of Jewish History

On November 3, 2026, a seismic event took place in American politics as a Democratic wave swept through the United States. Yet, to an Israeli observer, the political shift was hardly surprising. Iran has been increasingly effective in the battle for international public opinion, while the United States has struggled to maintain public support for its military involvement in the Middle East. War fatigue, domestic dissatisfaction and a desire for a different direction all contributed to the political climate.

However, the election was significant for another reason.

US Vice President JD Vance’s remarks about the need to “change the nature of the relationship with Israel,” followed by President Donald Trump’s reference to a growing dislike of Israel, suggested that the Jewish state had become a political liability even within an administration widely regarded as one of its strongest supporters.

On the surface, much of the criticism has focused on Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and his role in the Iran War of 2026. Yet, dig deeper, and one discovers a far more troubling paradigm shift: the erosion of support for Israel across Western societies, including among younger American Jews.

A recent survey reported by The Times of Israel highlighted a growing generational divide in American Jewish attitudes toward Israel. While criticism of Israeli government policies should not automatically be equated with rejection of the Jewish state, the widening distance between younger Jews and Israel is a warning that cannot be ignored.

The war that began on October 7, 2023, was, from Israel’s perspective, a just war of self-defense. Israel was brutally invaded that morning by thousands of Hamas-led terrorists who committed horrific atrocities, murdered civilians and abducted hostages. Any country subjected to such an attack would have been expected to defend its citizens.

So how has Israel become the vilified party?

Speaking to Americans, one repeatedly encounters familiar accusations. “Israel committed genocide.” “Israel is an apartheid state.” “Israel occupies Palestinian land.”

Each accusation carries enormous historical, political and legal implications, yet public debate frequently reduces these complex questions to slogans.

The genocide allegation, for example, involves questions of intent, conduct and international law that cannot be resolved through casualty statistics or demographic estimates alone. A large percentage of casualties were Hamas fighters, and subsequent attempts were made to minimize mass loss of life through evacuation alerts and the passage of humanitarian aid. The apartheid accusation often overlooks the political and civil rights enjoyed by Israel’s Arab citizens, who vote in national elections, attend universities, work alongside Jewish Israelis and use the same public transportation, parks, malls and public institutions. Their experiences are fundamentally different from the system of racial segregation that existed in South Africa, although the separate legal circumstances of Palestinians in the West Bank remain a subject of serious international controversy.

Likewise, debates over occupation frequently overlook the Jewish people’s ancient historical and religious connection to the land, documented in biblical writings and supported by archaeological evidence. That connection does not eliminate Palestinian Arab claims, but neither can Jewish historical attachment simply be dismissed.

The problem is not that these issues should be beyond criticism. It is that much of the discussion has become detached from historical context, nuance and the everyday reality of Israeli society.

These changes are not new. Growing up in Canada, I heard slogans vilifying Israel decades ago. Yet October 7 and the subsequent war brought ideas once largely confined to the political fringes into mainstream public discourse.

Organized influence campaigns have contributed to this environment. A report published by the Institute for the Study of Global Antisemitism and Policy (ISGAP) examines networks associated with the Muslim Brotherhood and their influence on Western institutions and public discourse. Qatar’s international media, political and educational influence has also attracted growing scrutiny.

However, attributing the transformation of Western opinion entirely to Qatar, the Muslim Brotherhood or foreign propaganda would be a mistake. The problem runs considerably deeper.

We live in an age of instantaneous communication, where perceptions are increasingly shaped by social media, messaging platforms and algorithms that reward outrage and emotional engagement.

Information, misinformation and carefully selected images circulate at extraordinary speed. Automated accounts and coordinated campaigns can amplify particular narratives, while repetition gradually transforms contested claims into widely accepted assumptions.

American Perceptions and the Israeli Reality

The vast majority of Americans have never visited Israel. Yet, speaking to some of them, one might believe they understand my daily life better than I do. Their image of Israel is of a society consumed by hostility toward Palestinians, rather than a country where most people work, raise families, build communities and pursue ordinary lives.

The reality of Israel as a modern, diverse and technologically advanced society, whose people share many of the aspirations of those living in other Western countries, is too often lost beneath an endless stream of conflict-driven imagery.

Israel has become defined internationally almost exclusively by its wars.

As I argued in a previous opinion piece, “A Much-Needed Israeli Rethink,” Israel must reconsider its dependence on existing alliances and develop a more self-reliant, strategically sophisticated approach to international relations.

The deterioration of public attitudes toward Israel will not be easily reversed. The irony that a Republican administration, traditionally considered Israel’s closest political ally, could become a turning point in the relationship should serve as a warning.

Israel may need to prepare for a gradual cooling of its relationship with the United States, irrespective of which party occupies the White House.

Removing Netanyahu alone is not likely to repair the damage on its own. The deterioration in Israel’s international standing extends beyond any individual politician and reflects a deeper transformation in Western public opinion.

Nevertheless, Israeli political leadership has contributed to the problem.

The Netanyahu coalition, widely described as the most right-wing in Israel’s history, exacerbated an already difficult diplomatic environment. This is not to suggest that its far-right ministers lacked genuine concern for the Jewish state. Many were deeply committed to Israel’s future. Yet their inflammatory rhetoric repeatedly supplied Israel’s critics with material that could be circulated internationally, often without context.

Combined with the government’s failure to develop a sufficiently coordinated and credible international communications strategy, controversial claims about Israel increasingly became accepted narratives.

Consider a potent example regarding the war in Gaza. While the Hamas-run Health Ministry has regularly published detailed casualty figures, including demographic breakdowns, Israel has struggled to provide a consistent, transparent and independently assessable public accounting of the number of Hamas combatants killed.

Israeli military estimates have been released at various stages, but the absence of a comprehensive and regularly updated public methodology has left a significant information vacuum.

In the modern information environment, such vacuums rarely remain empty. They are filled by competing narratives, often long before the facts can be independently established.

Lessons from Antiquity

Jewish history offers important lessons about the dangers of political isolation, internal extremism and the failure to engage effectively with the wider world.

Nearly 2,000 years ago, the Jewish historian Flavius Josephus chronicled the Great Jewish Revolt against Rome, culminating in the destruction of Jerusalem and the Second Temple in 70 CE.

According to Josephus, it was not merely the overwhelming power of Rome that brought catastrophe upon Jerusalem. Bitter internal divisions among Jewish factions dramatically worsened the city’s suffering.

In The Jewish War, Book V, Chapter 1, Josephus describes how rival factions, including those led by John of Gischala and Simon bar Giora, fought one another even as Roman forces advanced. Their struggle extended into the Temple precincts, while those suspected of seeking peace with Rome risked execution.

Most remarkably, Josephus records that the factions burned houses containing grain and other provisions, destroying supplies that might otherwise have sustained Jerusalem through a prolonged siege. The resulting famine intensified the suffering of a population trapped between the Roman army and uncompromising forces within its own walls.

Rome ultimately destroyed Jerusalem, but the internal divisions described by Josephus amplified the catastrophe. A similar warning about the consequences of strategic miscalculation can be drawn, albeit under different circumstances, from the Bar Kokhba revolt of 132–135 CE, which ended in another devastating Roman victory.

Josephus himself presents an interesting paradox.

A former Jewish military commander who surrendered to Rome, he subsequently worked under the patronage of the Flavian emperors. To some, he was a turncoat. Yet his relationship with Roman power enabled him to preserve an extensive account of Jewish history and explain Jewish traditions to a wider Greco-Roman audience.

Through works such as Antiquities of the Jews and Against Apion, Josephus defended the antiquity and legitimacy of Jewish religious traditions before a largely non-Jewish readership.

His writings were undoubtedly influenced by Roman patronage, and his political choices remain controversial. Nevertheless, his example illustrates how engagement with the wider world can help preserve Jewish identity and shape perceptions beyond our borders.

A second example emerges from the Hanukkah story and the subsequent history of the Hasmonean dynasty.

The successful Maccabean revolt against the Seleucid ruler Antiochus IV Epiphanes restored Jewish religious freedom and eventually laid the foundations for renewed Jewish sovereignty. Yet the dynasty that emerged from this remarkable victory gradually became entangled in territorial expansion, religious coercion and bitter internal rivalries.

In Antiquities of the Jews, Book XIII, Chapter 9, Josephus records that John Hyrcanus conquered Idumean territory and required its inhabitants to adopt Jewish religious practices, including circumcision, if they wished to remain in their homeland. The Idumeans subsequently became integrated into Jewish society, with the family of Herod emerging from this background.

Under Alexander Jannaeus, religious and political divisions erupted into violent internal conflict. Later, a dynastic struggle between Hyrcanus II and Aristobulus II opened the door to Roman intervention. In 63 BCE, Pompey entered Jerusalem, effectively ending the kingdom’s full independence.

Josephus, Antiquities of the Jews, Book XIV, Chapters 1–4.

The destruction of the Second Temple would follow more than a century later, under different circumstances. Nevertheless, the Hasmonean experience demonstrates how ideological overreach, internal fragmentation and political miscalculation can undermine hard-won sovereignty.

Ironically, the earlier Hasmoneans had themselves understood the value of diplomacy, cultivating relationships with Rome and other regional powers. Their history therefore offers a lesson not only about the dangers of internal extremism, but also about the importance of maintaining external alliances.

A final example, illustrating the exercise of Jewish power through political engagement, comes from the Purim story.

According to the biblical Book of Esther, the Jewish people faced an existential threat when Haman secured royal authorization for their destruction throughout the Persian Empire.

Through the political judgment and courage of Queen Esther and Mordechai, the plot was exposed and a new royal decree secured, permitting Jewish communities to organize and defend themselves against their attackers.

The authorization extended throughout the empire’s 127 provinces, while Esther subsequently obtained permission for an additional day of action in the capital, Shushan.

Book of Esther, Chapter 8, verses 8–13 and Chapter 9, verses 1–15.

The narrative further describes how provincial officials supported the Jews as Mordechai’s political influence increased.

Although the Persian monarchy cannot be equated with today’s international community, and the Book of Esther is a biblical narrative rather than an independently verified historical account, its underlying political lesson remains instructive.

Jewish survival depended not only on the willingness to defend themselves, but also on diplomatic access, political influence and the ability to secure legitimacy from the governing authority.

Jewish history therefore reminds us that military strength alone is insufficient. Sovereignty must also be supported by political judgment, internal cohesion and the ability to engage constructively with the wider world.

Taking Back the Narrative

Whichever government emerges in Israel must take international engagement seriously.

Israel cannot afford to withdraw into diplomatic isolation, nor can it assume that military superiority or technological achievement will automatically translate into international legitimacy.

The Jewish people have an extraordinary story, one that has increasingly been overshadowed by the language of conflict.

It is not simply a story of Palestine, occupation or war. It is the story of a people who, after centuries of dispersion and persecution, restored sovereignty in their ancient homeland.

It is a story of a society that has built a thriving technological economy, pioneered medical innovations, developed advanced semiconductors and contributed disproportionately to scientific progress.

It is also the story of millions of ordinary people who want what people everywhere want: security, opportunity, family, community and peace.

Yet this narrative cannot be restored through public relations campaigns alone.

Israel must combine the strength necessary to defend itself with the diplomatic wisdom and political discipline to avoid unnecessary international confrontations and the strategic foresight to understand how its actions are perceived beyond its borders.

That does not mean surrendering Israel’s interests to international pressure. It means recognizing that the effective exercise of sovereignty requires more than the ability to prevail on the battlefield.

Our ancestors understood the consequences of internal division and the value of political engagement. Their experiences, preserved across two millennia of Jewish history, should serve as both a warning and a guide.

Israel must remain strong enough to defend itself, but wise enough not to stand alone.

The need to take back the narrative starts today.