Zionism is not hate, but hope fulfilled

Telegraph

22-05-2025

When the BBC's highest profile football pundit and presenter was forced to delete a post he had shared on social media that purported to 'explain' Zionism, much of the reaction to it understandably focused on the graphic of a rat which accompanied it. Such grotesque imagery seemed reminiscent of the propaganda of the darkest regimes of the last century, and it was rightly condemned.
But while the imagery betrayed the hatred of the original poster, the substance of the video itself, which was at least as toxic, went largely overlooked but it is precisely the content of that kind of video which sows the seeds of the murderous violence we saw in Washington DC this week. In the video, the speaker defines Zionism as, 'the idea of giving exclusive rights to one group of people, at the expense of another group of people'. This is a slur, now repeated and shared so often that it usually escapes scrutiny: that Zionism is a hateful, hierarchical and prejudiced ideology. That claim is a lie. And it is time for all decent people to call it out for what it is: a distortion of truth and an assault on Jewish identity.
Zionism is the movement for Jewish self-determination in our ancestral homeland. No more and no less. It is the belief, rooted in millennia of longing, prayer and historical connection, that the Jewish people – like any other people on earth – have the right to live in safety and sovereignty in the land of their origin. It does not agitate against the welfare of Palestinians. Which is why an overwhelming majority of Jews see no contradiction between holding Zionism at the core of their Jewish identity, whilst simultaneously feeling deep pain in seeing the plight of innocent Palestinians, whose suffering has been deliberately engineered by Hamas.
It is not complex or obscure. And yet so often, it is those who most bitterly despise Zionism who presume to define it.
We would never allow a misogynist to define feminism, or a white supremacist to define civil rights. Why, then, do we tolerate definitions of Zionism authored by those who openly revile it? This is not honest critique. It is the weaponisation of language to erase legitimacy. It is a calculated effort to make the word 'Zionism' so toxic, that anyone who dares to identify with it is instantly cast out from the bounds of polite society. It is guilt by association. And for Jews around the world, it is intended to create a form of ideological exile.
Zionism, we are told by its critics, is a colonial project. But how can a people be colonisers when they have no other homeland? The Jewish connection to the land of Israel is not a product of the 20th century. It is a 3,000-year-old relationship embedded in our scriptures, our liturgy, our language, and our identity.
To suggest otherwise is not simply to misunderstand Jewish history – it is to falsify it. And when that falsehood is circulated by those in positions of influence, it does profound harm. It legitimises the marginalisation of Jews who dare to stand up for their people's right to exist in dignity and peace. It emboldens those who would like to see the only Jewish state in the world wiped off the map. And, as we have seen once again so tragically this week, it bleeds seamlessly into antisemitism and violence.
The murders in Washington DC were devastating but not surprising. For so long we have seen synagogues defaced, Jewish students harassed, and businesses or organisations with even the most tenuous links to Judaism or Israel vandalised. Not because of anything they have done, but because of what they are presumed to represent. Because of 'Zionism'.
The irony, of course, is that Zionism is one of the most remarkable movements for liberation in modern history. In just a few generations, it transformed a traumatised, exiled people into a thriving democracy. It created a home for refugees from over 100 countries and offered sanctuary to Holocaust survivors and victims of persecution from Iraq to Ethiopia, and from Russia to Yemen.
As Israel's Declaration of Independence makes clear, Zionism has always had peace at the core of its national aspiration. To appropriate the tragedy of a war in order to portray it as a malevolent force – as a synonym for racism or supremacy – is not criticism. It is demonisation. It is a deliberate inversion of truth that seeks to rob Jews of their right to speak and act for themselves.
Zionism is not hate, but hope. It is the hope of a people scattered to the winds and returned to their roots. It is the hope of parents raising their children in a land their ancestors only dreamed of seeing. It is the hope of a refugee stepping off a plane and hearing their own language sung in the streets. It is the hope of a nation that, despite all it has endured, still clings to the belief that one day, peace might yet be possible.
That is Zionism. And it is a story worth telling – not through the distorted lens of its detractors, but through the direct and personal experiences and aspirations of those of us who call it our own.
Most people will not give a second thought to the ease with which a high-profile BBC presenter, with no apparent understanding of Jewish identity, would so readily amplify a video which demonises such a fundamental aspect of it. But it could not be clearer that the consequences of that demonising narrative are truly dangerous.
We must do better. We cannot allow the enemies of Zionism to define it. For to surrender that ground is to surrender not only the truth, but the dignity and safety of a people whose greatest aspiration is that one day, Israel – the indigenous and historic homeland of the Jewish People – can exist securely and freely, in peace with its neighbours and the wider region as an equal member of the family of nations.