Benjamin Netanyahu’s attempt to link the Albanese government’s position on Israel to the vile arson attack on a Melbourne synagogue is not just reckless—it’s dangerous. By conflating legitimate criticism of Israel’s policies with anti-Semitism, Netanyahu obscures the fight against real bigotry while attempting to silence vital critiques of human rights violations. This tactic, a hallmark of his administration, weaponises accusations of hatred to shield state crimes and deflect accountability.
Anti-Semitism vs. Critiquing State Actions
The attack on the Adass Israel synagogue was a heinous act of anti-Semitism, and it must be unequivocally condemned. Hatred against Jewish people is not just morally reprehensible but a threat to justice and equality everywhere. However, blaming the Australian government’s support for a United Nations resolution calling for an end to Israel’s occupation of Palestinian territories is nothing short of a cynical misdirection.
Criticism of Israel’s illegal occupation, settlement expansion, and military actions in Gaza and the West Bank is not an attack on Jewish people or Judaism. It’s a condemnation of state policies that violate international law and the principles of human rights. The Albanese government’s stance aligns with a global consensus, reflected in a 154-nation vote, calling for Palestinian sovereignty and the cessation of Israeli occupation. Netanyahu’s insistence on equating such criticism with anti-Semitism is not just dishonest—it undermines the fight against real bigotry and emboldens those who use these false equivalencies for political gain.
Take the Albanese government’s refusal to grant a visa to former Israeli justice minister Ayelet Shaked. Shaked’s infamous rhetoric, including comparing Palestinian children to snakes and calling for the flattening of Palestinian territories, exemplifies the very dehumanising language that fuels cycles of violence. Denying her a platform in Australia isn’t anti-Semitic—it’s a necessary stance against hate speech and a defense of social cohesion.
The Weaponisation of Anti-Semitism
Over the years, the term anti-Semitism has increasingly been weaponised to stifle legitimate criticism of Israel’s policies. This rhetorical maneuver conflates opposition to state actions with hatred toward Jewish people, creating a chilling effect on free speech and shielding the Israeli government from accountability.
Consider the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance’s (IHRA) working definition of anti-Semitism, which has been adopted by numerous countries, including the U.S. and the U.K. While the definition includes undeniable examples of anti-Semitism, it controversially lists "claiming that the existence of a State of Israel is a racist endeavor" as a form of anti-Semitism. This has been used to label advocates of Palestinian rights, including prominent Jewish activists and organisations, as anti-Semitic simply for opposing the occupation or calling out systemic discrimination.
In 2020, the U.K. Labour Party under Keir Starmer expelled members, including Jewish activists, who criticised the Israeli government. Many of these individuals had long histories of fighting genuine anti-Semitism, but their critiques of Israeli state violence were deemed unacceptable under the IHRA definition. The result? A growing narrative that equates solidarity with Palestinians with anti-Jewish hatred, stifling necessary debates about justice and international law.
In the U.S., members of Congress like Ilhan Omar and Rashida Tlaib have been repeatedly smeared as anti-Semitic for their support of the Boycott, Divestment, Sanctions (BDS) movement, which seeks to hold Israel accountable for its violations of international law. Omar faced backlash for suggesting that U.S. support for Israel is influenced by lobbying groups like American Israel Public Affairs Committee (AIPAC)—a fact openly acknowledged by AIPAC itself. Instead of addressing the substance of her critique, detractors painted her comments as bigoted, a clear example of deflection through weaponised accusations.
Even within Israel, dissenting voices face accusations of self-hatred or betrayal. Israeli human rights groups like B’Tselem, which have documented the apartheid-like conditions in the West Bank, are frequently labeled as traitors for challenging the government’s narrative. This internal suppression mirrors the global effort to conflate criticism of state policies with an attack on Jewish identity.
The “Palestine Laboratory”: Occupation as an Industry
Netanyahu’s defensiveness becomes clearer when viewed through the lens of the “Palestine Laboratory,” as described by investigative journalist Anthony Loewenstein. Israel’s occupation of Palestinian territories is not just an act of oppression—it’s a lucrative industry. The occupied territories serve as a testing ground for military and surveillance technologies, which are then marketed worldwide as "battle-tested."
Palestinians in Gaza and the West Bank live under the watch of biometric surveillance systems like AnyVision (now Oosto), monitored by a network of unknown cameras and sensors. Gaza’s population faces the daily terror of Israeli drones, which drop tear gas containers and carry out targeted killings, dehumanising the act of war into something as banal as “ordering pizza,” as one promotional website grotesquely described it.
These tools of oppression are then exported to governments across the globe. Elbit Systems, a leading Israeli defense contractor, sells its drones to Frontex, the EU border agency, which uses them to monitor and push back refugees along the Balkan route. The U.S. militarises its border with Mexico using similar Israeli technologies. Even regimes with egregious human rights records—such as Myanmar, South Sudan, and Colombia—have purchased Israeli arms and surveillance equipment, making it clear that this isn’t about security or morality but profit.
Human Rights Violations and Genocide Allegations
The implications of these policies extend far beyond surveillance and weapons. Amnesty International has accused Israel of genocide against Palestinians in Gaza, citing systemic destruction, indiscriminate bombings, and dehumanising rhetoric from Israeli officials. These aren’t hyperbolic claims—they’re grounded in satellite imagery, field reports, and the lived experiences of Palestinians who have endured decades of occupation.
Baruch Kimmerling, the late Israeli sociologist, coined the term politicide to describe the systematic erasure of Palestinian political identity—a goal that includes ethnic cleansing as its logical endpoint. This isn’t merely theoretical; it’s a process we see unfolding in the rubble of Gaza, the expanding settlements in the West Bank, and the continuous undermining of Palestinian sovereignty.
Loewenstein’s The Palestine Laboratory makes a damning observation: this system thrives because enough nations buy into its premise. Israel’s role as a global supplier of oppression technologies isn’t just tolerated—it’s celebrated by the very governments that condemn anti-Semitism while turning a blind eye to its exploitation for political ends.
Conclusion: Accountability Is Not Bigotry
The arson attack in Melbourne is a grim reminder of the need to combat anti-Semitism in all its forms. But weaponising accusations of bigotry to shield state violence does nothing to advance that fight. Critiquing Israel’s policies is not anti-Semitic—it’s a moral and legal imperative, especially when those policies violate the rights of millions of Palestinians.
If Netanyahu truly seeks to combat hatred, he should begin by addressing the injustices at home. The world doesn’t need more empty rhetoric about being a “good neighbor” while Palestinians endure dispossession and displacement. It needs accountability, justice, and a clear distinction between anti-Semitism and the legitimate criticism of state violence. Anything less is a betrayal of the principles we claim to defend.
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