When progressive Jews have antisemitic ideas

As a lifelong liberal committed to racial and economic justice, I am troubled by how easily some progressive Jews cross from legitimate criticism of the State of Israel’s policies into corrosive statements that deny Israel’s right to exist and erase Jewish peoplehood, while insisting that doing so is not antisemitic. In communities I’ve long considered political and spiritual homes, I now hear Jewish colleagues and friends claim that Israel is not only unjust, but illegitimate – a colonial project with no foundation. Even though these voices represent a minority of American Jews, it’s painful to hear and even harder to respond when they speak the language of liberation while denying Jews the very things they claim to champion for others: identity, indigeneity, history, and survival. 

Some even begin their arguments with the phrase, “I’m Jewish and I believe…” as though their identity should immunize them from scrutiny. But being Jewish doesn’t make an opinion factual and it certainly doesn’t render it free of antisemitism. “I’m Jewish and I believe…” is a rhetorical device that functions as a moral pass to signal insider status while delivering arguments that would be recognized as bigotry in any other context. It’s tempting to describe this tactic and the anti-Zionist views that often follow it as hypocritical or self-hating, but the reality is more complex. Progressive anti-Zionism, especially among young American Jews, is fueled by four interrelated causes.

1. Universalism without memory. Many progressive Jews embrace a vision of justice rooted in universal human rights. That’s a good thing, until it erases the specific historical traumas that make Jewish self-determination necessary. Indeed, many American Jews grew up without a deep understanding of Jewish peoplehood, Jewish exile, or the reasons why Zionism emerged as a response to European and Middle Eastern antisemitism. For them, Judaism is distilled into social justice values, tethered to a modern interpretation of tikkun olam (repairing the world), detached from its roots as both a faith tradition and a people with a shared history, culture, language, and fate.
2. Power as oppression. In many activist frameworks, power itself is a moral failing. In the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, Israel is seen as the more powerful party and that’s all some need to declare it the aggressor, regardless of context. Accordingly, Israeli security actions are condemned but Hamas terrorism is ignored, justified, or euphemized as “resistance.” Israel isn’t held to a higher standard – it’s denied the right to self-defense. That Jews possess power is a classic antisemitic trope, so when fellow Jews frame Israel solely as a military aggressor – ignoring its regional isolation, security threats, and internal divisions- it’s jarring. It flattens the story into one of brute power, stripping away both nuance and history. I’ve experienced this paradox firsthand while serving on a leadership committee for a large, nonsectarian institution. On several occasions, fellow Jewish colleagues dismissed or mocked my concerns about antisemitism. One even lectured me about Israel’s alleged strategy of “scholasticide” (destruction of Palestinian educational institutions), while ignoring Hamas’s use of schools for military purposes and the ethical dilemmas that result. In this view, context doesn’t matter, only perceived power.
3. Israel as a stand-in for the American right. In the Trump era, many American progressives (myself included) view right-wing populism as an existential threat. But some have extended that view to Israel, conflating the State of Israel and the people of Israel with its current government. Because Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has aligned himself with President Donald Trump and because Israel’s current coalition includes ultra-nationalists and religious extremists, they see Israel not as a complex democracy with internal tensions, but as a proxy for MAGA politics. As such, condemning Israel becomes an act of resistance-by-proxy: a way of fighting Trumpism on foreign soil. But this is logically incoherent, since the Jewish people are not Donald Trump’s surrogates. 
4. Social capital and purity politics. In many campus and activist spaces, aligning with the “correct” causes conveys belonging to “the community of the good,” as described by Professor David Hirsch at the University of London.  Young Jews, eager to signal their progressive credentials, may publicly disavow Israel as a way of avoiding suspicion or exclusion from certain spaces. In this sense, being anti-Zionist becomes a kind of moral performance – a ritualized moral purification.

However, progressive Jews insist they aren’t antisemitic, and in a narrow sense, they’re right. Still, I believe that naming antisemitic ideas matters more than labeling people themselves:

• It is antisemitism to chant “From the river to the sea” without reckoning with what that slogan would mean for the 7 million Jews who live in Israel.
• It is antisemitism to say that Jews are not indigenous to the land of Israel while affirming indigenous claims from every other people.
• It is antisemitism to claim that Israel has no right to exist but not to make that claim about any other country – not even the worst human rights abusers.
• And yes – it is antisemitism even when it comes from a Jew.

We need serious criticism of Israeli policies, including the occupation, the impact of the recent wars, the treatment of Palestinians, and the erosion of democratic norms. But we also must draw lines between critique and delegitimization, between protest and erasure. We need progressive spaces to live up to their stated values of defending all vulnerable people, including Jews, and to recognize that antisemitism can come from both the right and the left.

We also need Jewish people to stop pretending that Jewish identity alone makes our arguments unassailable. It doesn’t. We’re just as capable of blind spots, internalized bias, and moral misjudgment as anyone else.

I’m not asking for tribal loyalty or silence in the face of injustice. I’m asking for moral clarity and the ability to hold two truths at once: that Palestinians deserve justice, and Jews deserve safety and sovereignty. If progressivism can’t hold both truths, it’s not justice – it’s just politics. And politics, untethered from memory and principle, will never protect the vulnerable.