“Betrayal” is the appropriate word to describe what the ruling coalition in Israel is doing to the spirit of Zionism. While we hope that the end of the war in Gaza will be an opportunity for Israel to get off this slippery slope, German historian of Zionism Michael Brenner reminds us here what the founding fathers, across the political spectrum, had in mind when they envisioned the creation of a democratic Jewish state.
They look down from the walls onto those who wield power in Jerusalem and are unable to defend themselves. The founder of political Zionism, Theodor Herzl, Israel’s first prime minister, David Ben-Gurion, and the spiritual father of the right-wing Likud party, Vladimir Zeev Jabotinsky, are omnipresent in today’s Israel in their portraits – but never before have their ideas been betrayed as much as they are today in the offices of power. Benjamin Netanyahu and his right-wing and religious coalition partners have turned away from the basic ideas of Zionism and are contributing significantly to the fact that the long-attacked Zionist idea is now also falling into disrepute among many of its friends. They claim that Zionism is racism and colonialism. But be careful: don’t hold the fathers responsible for the deeds of their sons.
To understand what Zionism is, we must remember what it once meant to many millions of Jews. When the Viennese journalist Theodor Herzl founded the Zionist movement at the end of the nineteenth century, pogroms were raging in the Russian Empire, anti-Jewish street cries accompanied the judicial scandal surrounding the Jewish officer Alfred Dreyfus in France, antisemitic parties celebrated political successes in the German Empire, and the Vienna City Council elected Karl Lueger, a staunch enemy of the Jews, as mayor.
So if Jews could not live in Europe, Herzl thought, then a better Europe should be built elsewhere.
Herzl became a Zionist because he realized that despite his reputation as the arts editor of the Neue Freie Presse and as the author of plays performed at the great Viennese theaters, he was never accepted as an Austrian by those around him. The reason for his turn to Zionism can be found in his political pamphlet Der Judenstaat (The Jewish State) from 1896: “We have honestly tried everywhere to blend into the surrounding community and preserve only the faith of our fathers. They will not allow it. In vain are we loyal and, in some places, even exuberant patriots; in vain do we make the same sacrifices of property and blood as our fellow citizens; in vain do we strive to increase the glory of our fatherlands in the arts and sciences and their wealth through trade and commerce. In our fatherlands, where we have lived for centuries, we are denounced as strangers … If only they would leave us alone… But I don’t think they will leave us alone.”
At first, Herzl still believed that all Viennese Jews could be baptized in St. Stephen’s Cathedral and remain in Vienna – until he realized that the antisemitism of his time was no longer a Christian-influenced anti-Judaism. The racists did not care whether Jews were baptized or not – to them, they remained Jews. Herzl’s pessimism – “they will not leave us alone” – could not foresee the great Jewish catastrophe of the 20th century. But Herzl, like few others, had a premonition that Jewish life as a minority in the diaspora was under threat. Only in their own state would they feel safe. He was ridiculed and mocked many times for this and died in 1904 at the age of 44 without having come close to achieving his goal.
His view of the Middle East is certainly arrogant and paternalistic. But Herzl makes it clear that he does not want to oppress the Arab population living there. One of the heroes of his utopian novel Altneuland (Old New Land) from 1902 is the Muslim Arab Reschid Bey. He has just as much a place in the “New Society” as the Prussian nobleman Kingscourt.
So if Jews could not live in Europe, Herzl thought, then a better Europe should be built elsewhere. He knew very well that the historical homeland, which for Jews is called Israel and for the majority of the Arab population living there is called Palestine, was not uninhabited. In addition to Palestine, he also considered Argentina for the Jewish state, which was promoting immigration from Europe at the time and where large areas of land were largely unpopulated. But at the Zionist congresses, it soon became clear to him that his supporters—mostly Eastern European Jews—could only imagine moving to the historical homeland of the Jews. After all, Jews had prayed for centuries to return to Jerusalem, not to Buenos Aires. In contrast to the projects of settler colonialism in America or Australia, they saw themselves as returnees who, despite their centuries-long presence in Europe, were often persecuted and expelled there as foreigners, Orientals, or Semites.
If it were up to Herzl, his “New Society” would have English boarding schools, French opera houses, and, of course, Viennese cafés “with pretzel sticks.” His view of the Middle East is certainly arrogant and paternalistic. But Herzl makes it clear that he does not want to oppress the Arab population living there. One of the heroes of his utopian novel Altneuland (Old New Land) from 1902 is the Muslim Arab Reschid Bey. He has just as much a place in the “New Society” as the Prussian nobleman Kingscourt. Herzl has his hero David Littwak proclaim: “And that is why I say to you that you should hold fast to what has made us great: liberalism, tolerance, and love of humanity. Only then is Zion Zion!”
In fact, there is only one person who has no place in Herzl’s “New Society,” and that is the Orthodox rabbi Geyer. Why? Because he does not want to grant non-Jews equal rights. “He is a damned priest, a deceiver, a rabble-rouser, and a mocker of God. He wants to introduce intolerance among us, the scoundrel,” another hero of the novel rages about Geyer, in whom today’s reader may recognize one or another member of the current Israeli government.
For all its imperfections and European perspective, Herzl’s “New Society” was an attempt to enable people of different origins and religions to live together in harmony. Speaking of religion, it played hardly any role in his New Society. Much more important to him, who led a secular life and did not know Hebrew, were technological progress and social justice. Electric street lamps hanging from palm trees “like large glass fruits,” a suspension railway, and a “telephone newspaper”—these were his visions for the state he aspired to create. Oh, and what should it be called? Herzl never mentions Israel. He calls it the “Seven-Hour-Land,” because no one should work more than seven hours a day. This was so important to him that he himself designed the state’s flag with seven stars – one star for each hour of work.
In fact, there is only one person who has no place in Herzl’s “New Society,” and that is the Orthodox rabbi Geyer. Why? Because he does not want to grant non-Jews equal rights.
It was then on May 14, 1948, that David Ben-Gurion, the socialist-Zionist prime minister, proclaimed the State of Israel under a larger-than-life portrait of Herzl. He read out the Declaration of Independence, which he had approved, stating that the new state would “guarantee social and political equality to all its citizens, regardless of religion, race, or gender. It will ensure freedom of religion and conscience, freedom of language, education, and culture, take the holy places under its protection, and remain faithful to the principles of the United Nations Charter.”
It was not always easy for Ben-Gurion and his government to remain faithful to these principles. From the outset, Israel was exposed to attacks from its Arab neighbors – and for good reason, the Palestinians did not understand why they, of all people, had to pay the price for the crimes of the Europeans. Ben-Gurion made mistakes. These included far-reaching concessions by the secular socialist to the Orthodox Jews. He wanted to include this group, which had been most severely affected by the Holocaust, and exempted them from military service. He was convinced that they would remain a tiny minority, and he himself would later regret this step. In addition, he placed most of the Arab Palestinians who remained in Israel under military administration, which was not lifted until 1966 – another birth defect of Israel.
Nevertheless, like Herzl, he wanted to establish a model state and used a secularized version of the religious idea of the Messiah to do so: “The messianic vision that has lighted up our path for thousands of years has prepared and fitted us to a light unto the nations. Moreover, it has imposed upon us the duty of becoming a model people and building a model state.”By model state, he did not mean that one group would dominate another, and certainly not a religiously dominated state.
Ben Gurion also made clear what he thought of Israel’s ongoing occupation of the territories conquered in 1967. They must be returned if Israel wants to remain a democratic state with a Jewish majority population.
Long after he had resigned from office and was living very modestly in his retirement home, Kibbutz Sde Boker in the Negev desert, he also made clear what he thought of Israel’s ongoing occupation of the territories conquered in 1967. They must be returned if Israel wants to remain a democratic state with a Jewish majority population. The religiously orthodox and politically liberal philosopher Yeshayahu Leibowitz expressed it even more clearly: “We lost the Six-Day War on the seventh day.”
Even the mastermind of the Zionist right, Vladimir Zeev Jabotinsky, who wanted to establish the state through “blood and sweat” and an “iron wall” rather than through prayers and negotiations, spoke out in favor of a state with equal rights for all citizens, despite his often aggressive and militaristic rhetoric. In his last book, The War and the Jew, published shortly after his death in 1940, he makes this unmistakably clear. After stating that equal civil rights are a precious commodity that must be “treated with caution, moderation, and tact,” he grants the Arab minority not only the same individual rights, but also the same collective rights as the Jewish majority yet to be established in a model constitution. He goes so far as to say: “In any government in which a Jew is prime minister, the deputy prime minister should be an Arab – and vice versa.” Hebrew and Arabic should be recognized as equal languages everywhere, including in schools, courts, and parliament. Jabotinsky spoke out against any expulsions and considered it advantageous for the Arab population to remain in the country, which for him, of course, included both sides of the Jordan River. For him, there was no question that the Arab Palestinians should be granted all the rights of a national minority: “After all, the world has learned from the sources of Judaism how to treat ‘the stranger within one’s gates.’”
After stating that equal civil rights are a precious commodity that must be “treated with caution, moderation, and tact,” he grants the Arab minority not only the same individual rights, but also the same collective rights as the Jewish majority yet to be established in a model constitution.
One should assume that Netanyahu knows his work, because his father, born Benzion Mileikowsky in Warsaw, was Jabotinsky’s private secretary before becoming a history professor in the US. But Netanyahu’s government, formed by right-wing and religious parties, has abandoned the fundamental principles that once united Zionism across all political divides. These include the idea of a fundamentally secular state, an independent judiciary, and equal rights for all citizens. Restricting the powers of the Israeli judiciary and undermining the separation of powers are just as much on this government’s agenda as relegating Israel’s Arab citizens, who are theoretically equal, to a lower status, a process that was already initiated during Netanyahu’s previous term in office with the controversial 2018 Nation-State Law.
Perhaps the greatest departure from the fundamental ideas of Zionism is the gradual shift from a secular to an increasingly religious society. In secular Tel Aviv, this may be easy to overlook, but in most parts of the country, it quickly becomes clear: This movement is supported by demographic trends. While the average number of children in a secular family in Israel is two, the number is four among the national religious and seven among the ultra-Orthodox. For the religious coalition partners, the thoroughly secular Netanyahu is merely a useful tool for establishing a religious state throughout the biblical land of Israel in the future.
The hundreds of thousands who protested in the streets of Tel Aviv and other cities week for week to demand the release of the hostages kidnapped on October 7, 2023, as well as an end to the war and a democratic Israel, show the world that the idea of Zionism, which stands for balance, justice, and coexistence among peoples, is still alive. They call out to us: It is not Zionism and the existence of a Jewish state that should be condemned, but this government’s betrayal of Zionism in the name of Zionism.
Michael Brenner
Michael Brenner is Professor of Jewish History and Culture at Ludwig Maximilian University in Munich and the Seymour and Lillian Abensohn Chair of Israeli Studies at American University in Washington, DC. He is the author of The Renaissance of Jewish Culture in Weimar Germany, Yale University Press (1996); German-Jewish History in Modern Times, Columbia University Press (as co-author, winner of the 1997 National Jewish Book Award for Jewish History); After the Holocaust: Rebuilding Jewish Lives in Postwar Germany, Princeton University Press (1997); A Short History of the Jews, Princeton University Press (2010); Prophets of the Past: Interpreters of Jewish History, Princeton University Press (2010); In Search of Israel, Princeton University Press (2018).
