When the music stops: The haunting legacy of anti-Zionism

Ah, the zeitgeist of the moment. How it thrives on its own sense of fashion, intellectual and otherwise. The latest couture on the ideological catwalk, it seems, is the heady mix of antisemitism cloaked in anti-Zionism—a chic rebellion paraded as moral righteousness. It’s all terribly in vogue, isn’t it? To denounce Israel with sweeping generalizations, to hurl accusations of apartheid or genocide, all while sipping an oat milk latte and basking in the glow of online approval.

But here’s the rub. When the music stops, when the shouting subsides, and the hashtags fall out of favor, the record of today’s fashionable intellectual dissent will remain. Frozen in the amber of the internet, it will stand as a testament to an age where moral posturing and performative outrage eclipsed reason, nuance, and truth. And what a haunting legacy that will be.

Gone are the days when one could rant in a coffeehouse and be forgotten by sunset. Now, every tweet, every op-ed, every rallying cry is etched into the eternal digital archive. Today’s moments of bravado, amplified by applause or retweets, will linger far longer than their authors might wish.

Decades from now, when history’s sober gaze falls upon this era, it will ask difficult questions of those who made anti-Zionism their intellectual sport. Why did you lend your voice to a movement that sought to delegitimize the Jewish state while glossing over the atrocities of its sworn enemies? Why did you vilify a democracy defending itself against terror, while romanticizing those who proudly proclaimed their intent to annihilate it?

The digital age offers no escape. Every word, every slogan, every endorsement will remain, starkly preserved for future generations to dissect and judge.

History, as we know, is not kind to collaborators. It has little patience for those who, willingly or through willful ignorance, sided with oppressive ideologies under the guise of progress. From the appeasers of the 1930s to the apologists of later tyrannies, the intellectual fashions of one age become the moral failures of the next.

Today’s anti-Zionism, far from being the principled critique it claims to be, often slides into a denial of the Jewish people’s right to sovereignty. Worse, it aligns itself with forces that openly champion terror. Hamas, for instance, is not coy about its intentions. Its charter calls for Israel’s destruction and celebrates the murder of Jews—not just Israelis, mind you, but Jews wherever they may be found.

To adopt the rhetoric of anti-Zionism without acknowledging these realities is to play a dangerous game, one that future historians are unlikely to view charitably.

Criticism of any state, including Israel, is fair game. Indeed, it is essential. But what we see now is not criticism; it is a wholesale rejection of the Jewish state’s right to exist, framed as moral virtue. This is not merely misguided; it is a pernicious falsehood that emboldens antisemitism and excuses violence.

Consider the intellectual gymnastics involved. Israel, a tiny democracy surrounded by enemies who openly call for its destruction, is vilified for defending itself. Its actions are scrutinized with a ferocity no other nation endures, while the crimes of its enemies—terrorist attacks, rocket barrages, and human shields—are dismissed or ignored.

Those who embrace this narrative often do so with the certainty of the morally righteous. But when history revisits this era, what will their certainty look like? Will it not appear, at best, as naive and, at worst, as complicit?

When the proverbial music stops, when the hashtags fade into obscurity, and the passions of this moment are analyzed with the benefit of hindsight, many of today’s self-styled critics of Israel will face an uncomfortable reckoning. They will find that their posturing, their slogans, and their solidarity with terror’s enablers have left a permanent mark—not on Israel, but on themselves.

What seemed fashionable and brave today may be revealed as cowardly and complicit tomorrow. History will not ask for the context of their tweets or the mood of their marches. It will simply ask: did you stand on the side of justice, or did you lend your voice to those who sought to erase a people’s right to exist?

To those who indulge in the intellectual hobby of anti-Zionism, a gentle but firm caution: the moral certainty of the moment will not shield you from the judgment of history. Engage with the complexities of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. Recognize the difference between critiquing policies and denying sovereignty. Understand that aligning with those who glorify terror is not an act of justice but an abdication of it.

History will judge us all. But it will judge most harshly those who, when faced with a choice, chose the easy path of fashionable outrage over the harder road of truth and reason.

When the music stops, where will you stand? Choose wisely. For the record will remain long after the applause has faded.