Am I a Zionist?
Until recently, I had never really stopped to consider whether or not I consider myself a Zionist. Although genetic testing reveals I’m 98% Ashkenazi Jewish, my Latino husband jokes that he knows more about Judaism than I do. And he may not be wrong. I grew up in a very secular household. The one Jewish holiday we always celebrated was Hanukkah—and that was mostly because it was a great excuse to give each other presents for eight days (take that, all you Christians with your ONE day of gifts). Don’t get me wrong. I was very well aware that we were Jewish, but it was in much the same way that I imagine other Americans identified with their ethnicities. It was kind of interesting, with some fun specific traditions and vocabulary, but it was not central to my identity. I did not go to Hebrew school. I did not have a Bar Mitzvah. I was not the victim of anti-semitism, except for one time in middle school when I was called “Jew-boy.” Of course, I did hear stories of my grandmother being chased home from school with cries of “Christ-killer” ringing in her ears. I did learn about the Holocaust. And the pogroms. And of course, I knew that Israel existed.
But my identity as a “Jew” was about as weak as can be imagined. I certainly never called myself a Zionist, and really hadn’t given the issue much thought.
That all changed after October 7th. I’d always considered Israel as a beachhead of Western civilization in a largely backwards region. They seemed by far the more reasonable party in the Arab/Israeli conflict. And I had always supposed that all but the most fanatical anti-semites believed that Israel had a right to exist. Did that make me a Zionist? If so, I certainly had never conceptualized it that way.
When Hamas committed the atrocities of October 7th, I was sure that Israel would have the sympathy of the world. And for the first day or two afterwards, it seemed it might. But the narrative quickly changed. As soon as Israel moved to defend itself — as any other nation on earth would have — they were cast as the villains. Now, two and a half years later, the rise not just in anti-Israel sentiment, but in open anti-Jewish hatred, is staggering.
As a completely non-religious Jew, I have never owned a Star of David. I don’t own a yarmulke or a menorah. But this was out of disinterest, not out of fear. Now, I would hesitate to display these signs of Judaism because they might make me a target! For the first time, I’m starting to understand on a visceral level why the Jews who lived through World War II and the Holocaust believed that their survival necessitated the formation of a Jewish state.
In a perfect world, I don’t necessarily believe nations should form around religious beliefs or ethnicity. If all nations were more or less rights-respecting, separate countries would probably continue to exist because of geographical features, as well as differences in customs, beliefs, and of course, language. But much like with the EU, your life would not be greatly different — and certainly not be under threat — whether you lived in Belgium or Holland, France or Germany.
But that is not the world we live in. It is clear to me, as we see Jews attacked on the streets of London, slaughtered on the beaches of Australia, and threatened even here in the U.S., that Jews are not safe everywhere in the world—and perhaps are not safe anywhere in the world.
I do not believe Jews are “the chosen people.” I do not believe they are entitled to any particular piece of land because their ancestors lived there thousands of years ago. I do believe, though, that they have the same rights as every other people on earth, including the right to live and to practice their religion, free from the threat of violence. The undeniable truth is that historically, Jews have been targets. They have been persecuted — and are still being persecuted. The best and freest countries on earth are unable or unwilling to protect them, so it absolutely makes sense for Jews to have their own country, where they are able to protect themselves. We can (and should) debate how Israel is run, and how it goes about defending itself, but all discussions have to be based on the understanding that Israel has every right to exist. Despite its flaws, it is an essentially Western, rights-respecting nation and deserves our moral support (military and financial support is a separate issue).
So, does this belief make me a Zionist? According to Google AI: “A Zionist is a person who supports the right of the Jewish people to self-determination in their ancestral homeland, Israel.” If that is the definition, then I am ready to say yes: I am a Zionist.


The ancestral land aspect is irrelevant to my view, that Jews have the right to establish a country to defend and protect themselves from those who believe they do not have a right to exist and are willing to harm them. The failure of too many Western countries to provide this protection makes the existence of a Jewish state necessary. I am black, atheist, and have no personal relationship with any Jew but consider myself a Zionist.
Me too, man, me too.