The Trap of the Debate: The Normative Boundaries of “Anti-Zionism”

In debates about the relationship between anti-Zionism and antisemitism, we routinely step into the same carefully constructed rhetorical trap: we begin to argue as though this were a legitimate political disagreement between two morally equivalent sides. In doing so, we tacitly accept the framework of the debate itself, along with the premise that Jewish collective rights are negotiable, contingent, or subject to external approval.

The Western Wall, Jerusalem, Israel

Yet the relevant question is not “what do we think about Zionism", but what anti-Zionism actually denotes as a political program today. This is not a residual ideological dispute from the last century, but a contemporary political project aimed at dismantling an existing Jewish-majority state while obscuring the risks and implications behind the language of moral pathos and slogans.

Classical antisemitism in the second half of the 20th century challenged the individual rights of Jews. Twenty-first-century anti-Zionism operates at the collective level: it denies one people a right taken for granted in virtually every other national context, the right to self-determination. This is not rhetorical exaggeration. The IHRA working definition explicitly cites as an example the act of “denying the Jewish people their right to self-determination, e.g., by claiming that the existence of a State of Israel is a racist endeavour”.

As figures such as Natan Sharansky and Irwin Cotler have argued, when the very existence of the Jewish state is treated as inherently illegitimate, while the legitimacy of other ethnically or religiously grounded states is left unchallenged, this no longer constitutes political criticism but discriminatory exceptionalism.

Israel exists, not as a theoretical construct but as a UN member state, a legal order, a set of institutions, and the concrete home of millions. Accordingly, regardless of historical framing, anti-Zionism today does not signify opposition to a hypothetical future state, but the demand for the dissolution of an existing one. Political euphemisms such as “liberation of Palestine”, “Israeli apartheid”, “decolonisation”, the unrestricted “right of return” for the 1948 Arab refugees and their descendants, the abolition of the Jewish Law of Return, or the call for a “single shared state”, often obscure the practical implications of this demand without altering its substance. Re-absorbing a Jewish-majority state into the region’s prevailing balance of power does not turn ideas into reality, it turns people into test cases.

The relevant scholarship, including the work of Einat Wilf and Derek Penslar, has explored in detail why post-Zionist or one-state models frequently disregard the empirical record of minority existence in the region. The twentieth-century history of the Middle East saw Jewish communities dramatically reduced or eliminated across most Arab countries, not through integration, but through violence, expulsion, dispossession, and forced migration. Sources consistently describe departures in the hundreds of thousands, approaching one million across the region after 1948.

The assumption that collective security for Jews could be guaranteed in a political order lacking Jewish sovereignty is not optimism but a form of historical amnesia.

None of this implies that Israeli policies are beyond criticism. Legitimate state criticism is an integral part of international discourse, and self-critique is deeply embedded within Jewish intellectual tradition. The problem begins when the object of contestation is no longer specific governmental decisions but statehood itself, and when the interlocutor seeks not compromise or coexistence, but a “final settlement” to Jewish sovereignty.

Sharansky’s well-known “3D test” of demonization, delegitimization, and double standards attempts to capture precisely this threshold: the point at which criticism mutates into a normative demand that would be unacceptable in any other state.

The debate, therefore, is less about historical minutiae than about a foundational norm: do we accept that Jewish political self-determination is legitimate on the same terms as that of other peoples, or do we construct an exception?

Absent a sober reckoning with its likely consequences, anti-Zionism often advances demands whose implementation would carry incalculable humanitarian risks. Calls for Israel to cease existing as a Jewish-majority state are not abstract constitutional propositions but foreseeable programs that implicate the physical security of millions.

The issue is ultimately less complex than it appears, not because every critique is ill-intentioned, but because demanding the dismantling of an existing state lies beyond the ordinary boundaries of political disagreement.

For the sake of conceptual clarity in public discourse, this distinction must be named explicitly. When the endpoint of a political movement entails the institutional dismantling of Jewish collective security, it is no longer criticism, but a threat.

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Photo by Ivan Louis via Unsplash.