What's My Beef With Zionism?

Lately I’ve taken the bait and responded to a few posts about Israel and Zionism. A couple of those posts claimed that anti-Zionism is “by definition” Israel-hatred or antisemitism. I think that assumption is bogus—but explaining why, and what my own beef with Zionism actually is, doesn’t fit into a quick comment. So here it is, for anyone who cares to read it.

I was adopted by a Jewish couple, and Jewish family life shaped my early years—bar-mitzvah, holidays, the cultural rhythm of the household. But outside the home, I wasn’t in Jewish environments; I went to Episcopalian boarding schools and only briefly attended Hebrew school. Even so, other kids still saw me as “the Jew,” and I was bullied for it. A sense of inherited vulnerability is not lost on me. I often say that I’m not exactly Jewish, just Jew-ish. But the point here is that I embrace much of the Jewishness I inherited—the culture, the humor, the history, the literature, and, well…the cuisine especially.

As a teenager, I loved Leon Uris’s Exodus. I read it over and over. In that story, the Jews were the heroes, the underdogs I related to. I even imagined joining a kibbutz one day. My understanding of Zionism back then was emotional, simple, and—looking back—far from the full picture.

As I grew older, I learned more history. Not the mythic version, but the messy complexities of it all: overlapping national stories, competing traumas, and the fact that one people’s refuge became another people’s displacement. I also grew wary of religious ideas like “promised land,” “chosen people,” or divine entitlement—no matter which religion they come from. I’ve seen how easily they’re used to justify harm.

I still care deeply about Jewish safety. That hasn’t changed. I don’t want Israel destroyed or Jews endangered. But I also don’t believe any state should be built around religious or ethnic identity—not Israel, not anyone’s. History shows that model almost always leads to repression of minorities and a hardening of “us vs. them.” I want all people, everywhere, to live safely. No exceptions.

And yet I’ve hesitated to call myself anti-Zionist. I’ve usually expressed my view as having issues with it. I have also refrained from using the word genocide. My perspective is still evolving, and I try to avoid moral absolutism.

Still, I don’t hesitate to say that Netanyahu is, by my reckoning, a racist—and if not openly genocidal in what he wants and advocates, then damn close. And there are more than a few in his administration (and therefore shaping Israel’s policies) who absolutely cross that line. I don’t need secret evidence or conspiracies to reach that conclusion; I only need to listen to what comes out of his and their mouths. I am certainly anti his variant of Zionism.

But critiquing a state—or the ideology behind it—is not the same as hating a people. Calling me antisemitic or Israel-hating is an ignorant way to avoid engaging with what I’m actually saying.

I’m not sure yet whether I want to field responses to this. Maybe. But only if there’s a basic willingness to acknowledge that I’ve thought about these questions in a reasonably careful and good-faith way. If you’re uncivil, or if you default to the usual argument-winning tactics, I’ll either ignore you or mock you, depending on my mood.