When Theft Calls Itself Revelation

Supersessionism and the Appropriation of the Jewish Story
In The Metaphysical Root of Antisemitism and Ziophobia, I described supersessionism as a deep, often unacknowledged metaphysical root of both antisemitism and its modern mutation, Ziophobia:
Supersessionist doctrines in Christianity and Islam—claiming to replace or inherit the identity, covenant, and land of the Jewish people—are the deep, often unacknowledged metaphysical root of both antisemitism and its modern mutation, Ziophobia. Supersessionism is simply a theological euphemism for stolen identity, stolen covenants, stolen prophets, and ultimately, a stolen God.
There is an obvious objection to calling it theft.
“You may frame it as that,” the argument goes, “but we frame it as subsequent revelation.”
But changing the name does not change the act.
If someone takes your identity and declares that they received a divine revelation authorizing them to take it, the new label does not magically restore what was taken.
Theft does not cease to be theft because the thief calls it revelation.
That is the problem with supersessionism.
Imagine It Happened to Someone Else
Consider a simple thought experiment.
Imagine that a new religion emerged and took virtually everything from Hinduism.
It adopted Hindu sacred figures as its own prophets. It incorporated Hindu scriptures into its own religious narrative. It declared that the Hindu gods had been misunderstood and that the new religion possessed their true meaning. It claimed that the covenant, revelations, and religious inheritance of Hindus had now been transferred to the followers of this new faith.
And when Hindus objected, the answer was:
“You may call it theft. We call it subsequent revelation.”
Would Hindus regard that as a respectful theological development?
Or would they regard it as an extraordinary act of cultural and religious appropriation?
Of course they would be insulted.
And the fact that the new religion eventually acquired billions of followers would not make the appropriation any less insulting.
A theft committed by one person does not become legitimate because a billion people approve of it.
A theft committed yesterday does not become legitimate because it has been repeated for centuries.
And a theft does not become legitimate because the thief sincerely believes God authorized it.
That is the point.
The sincerity of the claimant does not determine the ownership of what was claimed.
The Jewish Case Is Not Different
Now apply the same thought experiment to Judaism.
Christianity takes the Hebrew Bible as its Old Testament. It incorporates the Jewish patriarchs, prophets, scriptures, covenantal history, and messianic expectations into its own sacred narrative. It then develops a theology in which the Jewish covenant is fulfilled, transformed, or superseded through Christ.
Islam likewise incorporates Abraham, Moses, David, Solomon, the Children of Israel, and numerous Jewish prophets into its own religious narrative. It presents itself as the continuation and correction of earlier revelation and ultimately as the final revelation.
Christians and Muslims may sincerely believe these claims.
But sincerity does not make the Jewish perspective disappear.
From the Jewish side, the experience can look very different:
A later religion took Jewish prophets.
It took Jewish scriptures.
It took the Jewish covenantal story.
It incorporated the Jewish God into its theology.
And then it told Jews that the inheritance was now theirs.
What should this be called?
“Subsequent revelation”?
That is what the successor calls it.
But the predecessor is entitled to call it something else.
Appropriation.
And if the appropriation involves replacing the original people in the very story they originated, “theft” is not an unreasonable description.
“But It Came From God”
This is where the argument usually becomes circular.
The supersessionist says:
“We didn’t steal your covenant. God gave it to us.”
But how does the supersessionist establish that?
By appealing to the very revelation whose authority the original people reject.
In other words:
“We own what was yours because our revelation says that we own it.”
That may be internally coherent as a matter of faith.
It is not an argument that binds the people whose identity is being replaced.
Suppose I claim that God revealed to me that your grandparents, ancestors, and entire family history now belong to me.
Your obvious response is not:
“Thank you for informing me.”
It would be:
“Those are my grandparents. That is my family history. You don’t get to take them from me by claiming a revelation.”
And if I reply, “But God revealed that I am the true heir,” the fact that my revelation came later would not make it more authoritative over your family.
Why should religious identity be different?
Who Appointed You the Owner of Jewish Prophets?
This becomes particularly obvious when the issue is the Jewish prophets themselves.
Suppose Jews disagree about a Jewish prophet.
Some Jews accept a particular interpretation. Others reject it. Some reinterpret the prophet. Some reject the prophetic tradition entirely.
That is an internal Jewish argument.
A Christian or Muslim can certainly have a view about the prophet. They can believe the Jews are wrong. They can believe the prophet predicted Jesus or Muhammad. They can build an entire theology around that interpretation.
But there is something profoundly presumptuous about telling Jews that their own relationship to their prophets has been superseded and that an outside revelation now determines the true meaning of their internal religious history.
Which Jewish prophets Jews accept, reject, reinterpret, argue about, or even kill is an internal Jewish matter.
It is not yours.
And this is where supersessionism reveals its deeper character.
It is not merely saying:
“We believe something different.”
It is saying:
“We have inherited your story, and therefore we can tell you what your story really means.”
That is the appropriation.
The Successor Needs the Predecessor
There is an extraordinary paradox here.
The supersessionist tradition cannot simply discard Judaism.
It needs Judaism.
Christianity needs the Jewish Bible, Jewish prophets, Jewish patriarchs, Jewish covenant, Jewish messianic expectations, and Jewish history.
Islam likewise needs the stories of Abraham, Moses, David, Solomon, the Children of Israel, and the prophets of Israel.
The later religions derive enormous theological meaning from the Jewish story.
And yet the theological logic of supersessionism can simultaneously declare that the Jews themselves have lost their privileged position within that story.
The Jewish people become the source material for a story in which they are no longer the protagonists.
The tradition remains.
The people are displaced.
This is why the continued existence of the Jewish people creates such a profound problem for replacement theology.
The Jews did not disappear.
They did not dissolve into the successor religions.
They did not accept the theological verdict that their covenantal identity had been transferred.
They remained Jews.
Their survival is therefore not merely demographic.
It is theological resistance.
The people who were supposedly replaced refused to be replaced.
And Then Comes the Land
Once the Jewish people are displaced theologically, another displacement becomes easier.
If someone else has inherited the Jewish covenant, perhaps they have inherited the Jewish homeland as well.
If someone else possesses the true meaning of Jewish scripture, perhaps they can also determine what the Jewish connection to the Land of Israel means.
If Jews are merely an obsolete religious community, perhaps Jewish national self-determination is an anachronism.
The argument can then leave theology entirely.
It can become about colonialism.
Nationalism.
Indigeneity.
Occupation.
Borders.
International law.
But underneath the modern vocabulary can remain the same ancient premise:
The Jews no longer have the right to define themselves.
Someone else inherited their identity.
Someone else inherited their covenant.
Someone else inherited their prophets.
Someone else inherited their story.
Why, then, should the Jews be allowed to inherit their own future?
This is where supersessionism connects to Ziophobia: hostility toward Jewish collective identity and Jewish self-determination.
A Name Does Not Need a Theology
This is also why arguments about the word “Israel” so often miss the point.
Yes, Israel originally refers to Jacob and, by extension, to the Children of Israel.
Yes, Bani Israel means the Children of Israel.
But the modern State of Israel does not need to prove its legitimacy through a particular interpretation of those terms.
Every country has a name with a history.
Canada’s name is derived from kanata, associated with “village” or “settlement.”
So what?
The etymology of “Canada” does not determine whether Canada has the right to exist.
Likewise, Israel’s political legitimacy does not depend on persuading Muslims or Christians to interpret every ancient reference to Israel as a reference to the modern state.
The proposition is much simpler:
Israel exists. End of story.
Numbers Don’t Change the Principle
There is another important point.
Suppose the hypothetical Hindu-inspired replacement religion acquired a billion followers.
Would that retroactively make its appropriation of Hinduism legitimate?
Of course not.
The number of people who believe something does not determine whether the original people were wronged by it.
Christianity became enormous.
Islam became enormous.
Judaism remained comparatively small.
None of that changes the underlying question.
Popularity is not ownership.
Historical success is not retroactive consent.
And demographic dominance does not give one religious community the right to tell another community that its identity has been transferred.
The fact that supersessionist traditions became world religions does not make supersessionism any less supersessionist.
Theft Is Theft
This is ultimately a question of boundaries.
A Christian can believe that Christ is the fulfillment of Jewish scripture.
A Muslim can believe that Muhammad is the final prophet.
An atheist can reject all of them.
Everyone is entitled to their theology.
But theology does not create ownership over another people.
You can believe your revelation is true without making Jews obsolete.
You can reinterpret Jewish prophets without acquiring them.
You can incorporate Jewish scriptures without acquiring the Jewish people.
And you can believe that your religion is universal without acquiring the right to redefine Jewish identity.
This is why I reject the attempt to soften supersessionism by calling it merely “subsequent revelation.”
Theft is theft.
Changing the vocabulary does not change the underlying act.
And when the people whose identity was supposedly replaced continue to exist, continue to remember, continue to practice their tradition, continue to call themselves Jews, and continue to insist that they are the authors of their own story, their very existence becomes a refutation of the replacement claim.
The Jews were not replaced.
They were never required to consent to their replacement.
And no later revelation can simply declare that consent unnecessary.
Your revelation is yours.
Your theology is yours.
Your interpretation is yours.
But the Jewish story belongs to the Jewish people.
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See Also
Invented Lineages: From Abraham and Ishmael to the ‘Palestinians’
