Critics of Israel Have a Tucker Carlson Problem

 

Fusing national and religious identities has often been problematic at best, and dangerous at worst. This is true whether the entanglement is official, such as in the Holy Roman Empire or the Islamic Republic of Iran, or more descriptive or aspirational, as in calling the United States a Christian nation or in framing Israel’s national identity in primarily religious terms as a Jewish state.

It’s an ancient conundrum. Our history books and religious texts are full of people going to war and committing unspeakable acts of violence because their god or gods allegedly told them to. These stories require something of those of us who continue to practice faith traditions transmitted through those ancient texts.

We can affirm their wars as accurate representations of what God (or the gods) wanted, and either relegate them to “simpler times” or assume that God (or the gods) still calls people to war. Or, we can mythologize them and look for the “lesson” we are meant to learn from them.

What we can’t do, however, is dismiss them.

A more pressing concern, though, isn’t with these ancient stories. It is with the headlines that flash before us daily.

When we offer critique, whether praise or condemnation, of a nation whose actions are either explicitly or tangentially rooted in religion, we must ask ourselves what exactly we are critiquing—the nation or the religion? We would be wise to sit with that question longer than we are comfortable with.

And yes, this requires a conversation about Israel and antisemitism.

What Is Antisemitism?

Whether you first engaged with the subject of Israel and Palestine on October 7, 2023, or have lived in the midst of the conflict your entire life, you understand all the landmines associated with terminology. For those fully steeped in the conversation, you also know the previous sentence has at least four terms that may cause many readers to slam their laptops shut, proving that language around this subject is highly charged.

The dilemma of how to define antisemitism isn’t just conversational; it is academic.

 

Holocaust Remembrance

 

Since 1996, a widely adopted definition of antisemitism has come from the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance (IHRA):

Antisemitism is a certain perception of Jews, which may be expressed as hatred toward Jews. Rhetorical and physical manifestations of antisemitism are directed toward Jewish or non-Jewish individuals and/or their property, toward Jewish community institutions and religious facilities.

The IHRA notes this is a working definition, implying room for interpretation. As a guide, the IHRA provides examples to illustrate acts that may be antisemitic. These include actions and rhetoric that are explicitly antisemitic, and others where antisemitism lies somewhere below the surface.

Perhaps in recognition that the subject of Israel is most likely to fog our vision on what is and isn’t antisemitic, the IHRA prefaces their examples with the following:

Manifestations might include the targeting of the state of Israel, conceived as a Jewish collectivity. However, criticism of Israel similar to that leveled against any other country cannot be regarded as antisemitic.

The IHRA definition, adopted in 2016, was the result of European think tanks monitoring the rise of antisemitism from both the far right and far left. It reflected how the memory of the Holocaust (and the rise of Holocaust-denialism) has shaped postwar politics in Europe and tensions between Israel and the Palestinians.

 

Reaction to IHRA

 

While the IHRA definition provided helpful guidance, many scholars in the U.S. believed it didn’t draw a clear enough distinction between Jewish identity and the state of Israel. The effect, critics argued, was that it stifled any legitimate criticism of Israeli policy and actions and was increasingly being used to punish pro-Palestinian activism on college campuses.

As a result, two similar documents have circulated since the early 2020s in response to the IHRA definition.

One is from the Nexus Project, an alliance of individuals and organizations devoted to fighting antisemitism and upholding pluralistic democracy. The Nexus Declaration begins:

Antisemitism consists of anti-Jewish beliefs, attitudes, actions or systemic conditions. It includes negative beliefs and feelings about Jews, hostile behavior directed against Jews (because they are Jews), and conditions that discriminate against Jews and significantly impede their ability to participate as equals in political, religious, cultural, economic, or social life.

Going further, the Nexus Project definition more explicitly addresses the subject of Israel:

As an embodiment of collective Jewish organization and action, Israel is a magnet for and a target of antisemitic behavior. Thus, it is important for Jews and their allies to understand what is and what is not antisemitic in relation to Israel.

A second alternative to the IHRA definition is the Jerusalem Declaration on Antisemitism (JDA), which was released in 2021 by a collection of scholars in the fields of Jewish, Holocaust, and Middle East studies. The JDA is even more precise than the Nexus Project in laying out what is and isn’t antisemitic speech with regard to Israel/Palestine.

Hidden Dangers

The IHRA, Nexus, and JDA definitions of antisemitism (and there are doubtless many others) reveal the complexity of this ancient and incendiary form of hate. They also leave many necessary questions unanswered. (Chief among these unanswered questions is an agreed-upon definition of Zionism, although the Nexus and JDA definitions do address the subject of anti-Zionism.)

What they all share, to different degrees, is an underlying recognition of how readily available antisemitic ideas are, and how easily they can be invoked—whether intentionally or out of ignorance. This may be especially true when speaking about Israel, where the relatively recent phenomenon of the modern Israeli state is shaped by centuries of theological and cultural narratives about Jews.

British scholar David Feldman describes antisemitism as “a reservoir of stereotypes and narratives, which accumulate over time, and from which people draw with ease, whether they intend to or not.” In other words, it is possible to express antisemitic ideas unknowingly.

This can happen when we use ambiguous language about “global elites” pulling the strings of world affairs behind the scenes, mirroring a common antisemitic trope about disproportionate Jewish power. It can take the form of conflating Jews with the state of Israel, requiring them to answer for Israel in ways we don’t ask anyone else to do for any other nation. For us Christians raised on a steady diet of “Jews killed Jesus,” not drawing clear distinctions between the particulars of our gospel stories and the wider Jewish community can lead to a form of subtle antisemitism.

All this, combined with the horrors wrought by antisemitism, requires us to be especially diligent, more so than we may feel comfortable with. We owe that heightened awareness to our Jewish siblings, especially during these times when antisemitism is on the rise from the right and the left.

For those of us who condemn the historic displacement and persecution of Palestinians at the hands of Israel, and the alleged war crimes committed under the leadership of Benjamin Netanyahu, this diligence requires us to be especially mindful of the allies we are tempted to embrace.

The Tucker Carlson Problem

In recent months, many pro-Palestinian critics of Israel have been surprised to find themselves agreeing with far-right commentators Tucker Carlson and Candace Owens on the subject of Israel. They shouldn’t be surprised, but they should be cautious.

Both Carlson and Owens have long histories of embracing conspiracies that employ antisemitic tropes of “shadowy elites” doing unspeakable things to wield and retain power. Carlson has platformed figures such as Nick Fuentes, a self-avowed white supremacist and Nazi sympathizer. Owens was named “Antisemite of the Year” in 2024 for her claim that Jewish people control the media.

This illustrates the dual dilemma of Feldman’s “reservoir” language and the problem of merging religious and national identities: Figures like Carlson and Owens draw from an antisemitic well of ideas to condemn Israel for actions that Israel deserves condemnation for.

It is true that some who defend Israel use accusations of antisemitism to stifle any substantive criticism of that nation’s actions. But it is equally true that some critics of Israel arrive at their conclusions through frameworks that lean on antisemitic ideas.

As tempting as it may be for us to see these figures as allies, we must distance ourselves from them, even if a cross-political-spectrum alliance may be politically advantageous.

Some will accuse us of antisemitism for any real questioning of Israel’s actions, and, frankly, we should accept that as a price to pay for the centuries of real damage done by this most ancient form of hate. But we shouldn’t coddle and comfort those who practice that hate by elevating their arguments, just because we agree with some of their conclusions.