Hating Israelis seems to be acceptable in Ireland

The war is over, but the impact on Irish attitudes to Israelis requires examination, with even Dáil members joining in the vitriol, writes Paul Kearns

With 67,000 Palestinians dead and Gaza lying in ruins, I can't help but feel many non-Israelis might have had mixed feelings watching those joyful and emotional scenes in Israel celebrating the release of the hostages. Picture: AP/Oded Balilty

The Israeli-Hamas war is over — for now. Yes, the ‘peace’ remains fragile; Palestinians are still dying, but with the surviving hostages having been freed, some normalcy of life is returning to Israel.

Yet with 67,000 Palestinians dead and Gaza lying in ruins, I can't help but feel many non-Israelis might have had mixed feelings watching those joyful and emotional scenes in Israel celebrating the release of the hostages.

So, perhaps this is a good time for me to write this article, one I have felt I needed to write for quite some time. It might annoy some readers. I don't intend to offend anyone, but let me be clear — my goal is not to avoid offending either.

I have written in this paper about the indifference of too many Israelis to the horrors their government has unleashed on the Palestinian population. I have shared stories about Tel Avivians going to the beach while an Israeli-induced famine unfolds 70km away, and how mainstream Israeli television news has refused to show the reality of the war in Gaza for the past two years.

I have received and am grateful for the many words of thanks — indeed, praise — for speaking out against Israeli war crimes and genocide while living here in Tel Aviv.

After two years of horrific and relentless imagery from Gaza, it's understandable many Irish people feel revulsion for the perpetrators. Picture: AP /Jehad Alshrafi

But in sharing these stories, I often worried I might not only be unintentionally dehumanising Israelis, but also fuelling a dark desire in some Irish readers to confirm their own prejudices of everything Israeli. I imagine that sentence could be very uncomfortable for some readers.

Let's be honest, after two years of horrific and relentless imagery from Gaza, it's understandable many Irish people feel revulsion for the perpetrators.

With that revulsion has come an undeniable, at times visceral hatred of Israel and Israelis. I believe hate is not too strong a word. Few may openly admit such feelings, but a hatred of Israelis is now not just politically acceptable in some circles, it is widely championed on social media. Incidents of unprovoked harassment and abuse of Israelis or Israeli supporters in Ireland are well documented.

So, hands up — who loves to hate Israelis? Let’s be clear — we’re talking about Israeli Jews. One in five Israeli citizens is Druze, Palestinian, or Israeli Arab.

I admit I have skin in the game, so to speak. As I have written before, I am Israeli, but I am a ‘paper' Israeli, Irish by birth and Israeli through marriage. I do not diminish my Israeli citizenship — it grants me the right to live here with my two Israeli-born Jewish children.

But I do wonder where that revulsion or hatred for Israelis begins and ends. How far and deep it extends and who it includes. Presumably, Netanyahu himself, his far-right ministers, and the IDF (Israeli Defence Forces). Perhaps it extends to conscript teenage soldiers. Maybe there is a particular revulsion felt for those Israelis indifferent to accusations of genocide?

Israel, as the world's only Jewish country, is perhaps unique in that the state, its people, symbols, and geography are highly contested and yet closely and messily intertwined. Choosing words carefully when discussing Israel requires caution and clarity to avoid unfair accusations. It comes with the territory.

And yet too often, that language is arguably pernicious. The dehumanisation of Israelis is undeniable.

This is not a government that is committing genocide, but a 'genocidal state'. It is not unreasonable to conclude the latter is anything other than a wink-and-a nod to the ‘Israel should not exist’ crowd. A government can be removed, but a state can only be eliminated.

Israelis are not human. “[Israel] is a psychopath. You can only make peace with human beings. You cannot make peace with a psychopath… With a savage. And that is what the State of Israel is!”; “Israel have [sic] taken Nazism to a new level by showing they can get away with it,”; “Israel... are the Nazis of the modern world…disgusting Zionist regime of supremacist beings.” 

These are not just random social media posts, but the words of four current Irish Dáil Éireann members.

The writer Isabel Wilkerson said: “It is harder to dehumanise a single individual that you have gotten the chance to know… It's better to attach a stigma, a taint of pollution to an entire group.” 

I don't know how many Irish people know, are friendly with, or have family who are Israeli. But after two years of war, I suspect many readers are pretty familiar with the dehumanising language used by some Israeli politicians.

That grotesque dehumanisation of all Palestinians by some Israelis is now arguably matched by a casual demonisation of Israelis by non-Israelis, often fuelled by conspiracy theories.

I am not writing to exonerate Israelis, least of all the heinous actions of this current far-right messianic Israeli government. I have written about the moral failures of Israeli universities, trade unions, and television media stars to speak out against the undeniable Israeli war crimes.

I am not suggesting the bombing of Gaza is in any way comparable to institutional child sex abuse or the incarceration and enslavement of pregnant teenagers, but the denial of horror in our midst is a surprisingly common coping mechanism.

But Israeli society would not be the first to turn a blind eye to horrible truths being committed within its borders. The pattern of behaviour might be familiar to older Irish readers. It includes a widespread refusal to face the facts, a failure by the mainstream media, a collective culture of silence, and groupthink when dark secrets are widely known. 

It also involves self-censorship to avoid causing unnecessary drama among family and friends. Sometimes in life, it's easier to stay silent.

There is a powerful, dark line in the film Small Things Like These which depicts the suffocation of small-town Ireland, when Eileen Walsh's character, referring to the abuse in the local Magdalene laundry, says: “If you want to get on in this life, there are things you have to ignore.” The film is set in 1985.

I am not suggesting the bombing of Gaza is in any way comparable to institutional child sex abuse or the incarceration and enslavement of pregnant teenagers. In fact, many Israelis would be appalled by the comparison, but the denial of horror in our midst is a surprisingly common coping mechanism.

Yet, amid this widespread denial of reality in Israel, many journalists from the left-leaning Israeli paper of record, Haaretz, have tirelessly criticised and condemned both the government and the war in Gaza. Some of the most powerful investigative journalism exposing Israel's war crimes in Gaza has come from Haaretz reporters.

So, it shouldn’t be too difficult to strongly criticise the actions of this Israeli government without employing language that dehumanises the entire state, and hence all Israelis. 

Yet, too often, many critics of Israel fall short in this simple task. In doing so, they perhaps reveal more about what they are not saying than what they are. One cannot help but conclude that for many —whether viewed through the lens of theology or post-colonialism — Israel is seen as uniquely born of sin.