What Kind of Jew Would Blame Jews for the Murder of Jews?

The high stakes of war can be clarifying. The aftermath of Hamas’s horrific invasion of Israel on the Shabbat of Simchat Torah has already clarified a number of things about the dangers of apathy, about the way internal divisions are seized by external enemies, and about the ineptitude of our current government here in Israel.

Another thing that has been clarified — for me, at  least — is what it actually means to be an anti-Zionist Jew.

With Israel under attack, we can see plainly where anti-Zionist ideology inevitably leads — the belief that when Israelis die, they had it coming. On Twitter, IfNotNow condemns the “killing of innocent civilians,” but then states that the blood “is on the hands of the Israeli government.” In other words, when they say they condemn the killing, they mean that they condemn Israel, not Hamas.  On Instagram, Jewish Voice for Peace writes that “inevitably, oppressed people everywhere will seek — and gain — their freedom.”

Messages from Jews without verified accounts follow this same script. First, they express their sympathies for the innocent victims. This is new. During past conflicts with Hamas, anti-Zionist Jews didn’t bother to acknowledge Israeli suffering before expressing condemnation. This time, it seems, the brutality was too much to ignore, and so they go on about their “burst hearts,” their anguish at the images of families and children being brutalized and led into captivity, their “disapproval of violence,” in principle.

But then, when this is dispensed with, they make their true position known. We must, they remind us, recall the “context,” which, for them, is “Israeli occupation” and “apartheid.” The slaughter is thus justified. Not justified in the sense of being moral. They don’t go so far as that. Rather, justified politically and psychologically — framed as the outburst of a legitimate and relatable (albeit excessive) resistance movement, the uncensored wail of an oppressed people.

Anti-Zionist Jews can offer their sympathies, but nothing more than sympathies. No rage. No unqualified condemnation. Just condolences, excuses and context.

With this point clarified, what am I to do with the fact that American Jews are increasingly likely to identify as anti-Zionists? What am I to do with the fact that this is nowhere more evident than among my own community: Non-Orthodox rabbis and rabbinical students? What am I to do with the fact that I know and care for such individuals, many of whom are likely reading these words?

In my previous writing on this issue, I’ve suggested that this fault line will become a crucial divide of American Jewish life in the coming decades, and that it is important that we handle it carefully, so it does not become a schism. In other words, we must learn how to make community and build a Jewish future together, holding hands, as it were, from across this divide. Zionist or anti-Zionist, we’re still one large and diverse family.

Today, I feel daunted by this task. There are Jews who condemn these attacks and mourn with the Jewish people, and there are Jews who make excuses for the killers and place ultimate blame on the Jewish state. Is this a mere political difference? One that we can shunt aside? Or is it something much deeper?

We can argue about the facts and their interpretation. Is Hamas’s violence a response to the Israeli blockade or is the Israeli blockade a response to Hamas’s violence? Is the failure of the two-state solution a result of Palestinian rejectionism? Or is it a result of Jewish expansionism?

I know how I understand this history, but I need not get into that now. Ultimately, it doesn’t matter. All of this, as Hillel said, “is commentary.” The real question is whether the foundation of the Jewish state in the first place was legitimate or illegitimate. From this fork in the road, all other interpretations follow.

If the Jewish state is inherently illegitimate, it does not matter much what Israel does or doesn’t do. It’s wrong either way. Its defensive wars are cast as acts of aggression, its attackers framed as freedom fighters.

This all became explicit for me a few years ago when I attended a Yom Ha’atzmaut prayer ceremony where the anniversary of Israel’s founding was explicitly called a “day of mourning.”

I was shocked and left the room. Weeks later, I got over it. This time, as we confront the biggest massacre of Jews since the Holocaust, I’m not sure I can. It’s not theoretical now. Perhaps it never was.

Should Jews mourn the fact that multiple Arab armies were unable to finish Hitler’s work in 1948? Similarly, should we make excuses for the Hamas terrorists who massacred mothers protecting their children in southern Israel on Simchat Torah?

Choose your answer wisely, because this concerns far more than your politics.