Israelis and Jews must regain self-respect.
True Judaism starts with self-reliance, courage, and unwavering pride.
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For decades, many of us Jews have been conditioned to look to “the other” for validation.
We listen for statements, gestures, recognitions, and assurances, as if Israel and the Jewish People’s legitimacy was something anyone could grant or withhold.
We seem to have absorbed a strange idea: that Israel and Jews exist at the pleasure of the world, and that our survival, our security, our pride, are contingent on the approval of others.
But Jewish history, both ancient and modern, tells a far different story. Long before the Holocaust, the Jewish People understood that placing our fate in the hands of anyone else is non-negotiable. It is a lesson carved from centuries of exile, persecution, and broken promises. Time and again, history has shown that outsiders’ assurances are fragile, temporary, or self-serving.
Consider the Evian Conference of 1938, when Jewish refugees begged for safe harbor from the rising tide of Nazi terror. The world turned them away. Consider Britain’s contradictory promises in the British Mandate Palestine era, or the United Nations Partition Plan of 1947, which, despite grand declarations, left Israel to fight for its survival against overwhelming odds. These are not abstract lessons; they are warnings. Outsourcing our security or our moral justification has never worked, and it never will.
And yet, even now, in 2025, we still hear the declarations. This week, for example, the U.S. presidential administration reaffirmed Israel’s “right to defend itself” after an IDF strike in Beirut eliminated Hezbollah’s second-in-command. As if this were some revelation, as if Israel needed a foreign president to remind the world — or remind itself — that the Jewish state has a right to defend its citizens from forces whose explicit mission is genocide.
Saudi Arabia keeps floating its desire to “recognize” Israel under certain conditions, as if its acknowledgment confers legitimacy. Riyadh has been quietly cooperating with Jerusalem for decades, since the 1980s, sharing intelligence, coordinating against common threats, long before any public gestures.
And then there is Europe, where pompous politicians and bureaucrats lecture Israel on moral standards and rules of engagement, even as they struggle to manage terror, antisemitism, and social unrest on their own soil.
Even in the Diaspora, we see the effects of this dependence on external validation. So many Jews speak of Israel with disclaimers and reservations: “My heart goes out to both sides of the conflict,” “I love Israel but hate the government,” “I’m proud to be Jewish but I’m not a Zionist,” “Israelis are great, but those violent settlers…” It is as if pride in our people and our state must be filtered through someone else’s lens, performed with the proper humility or guilt.
In reality, Jews should be oozing with pride about Zionism, one of the few liberation and decolonization movements in human history that succeeded. Against incredible odds, Jews returned to their ancestral homeland, rebuilt a nation from scratch, and created a thriving, democratic, innovative society in a region that remains hostile, unstable, and openly hostile to the Jewish state’s existence. This is not abstract theory or distant history; it is living proof that Jews can reclaim their destiny, defend their people, and create something extraordinary.
Zionism is a story of courage, vision, and resilience. It is a triumph of self-determination in a world where such successes are rare. Every Jew, in Israel and in the Diaspora, should take pride in this achievement. It is ours, and it belongs to no one else. There is nothing to apologize for. There is nothing to soften. To be Jewish and to be proud of Israel are inseparable truths.
Instead, we have many Jews calling to perform empathy for enemies intent on our destruction. This is intellectually bankrupt and historically dangerous. When your adversaries launch genocidal wars — 1948, 1956, 1967, 1973, 1982, the Second Intifada, and most recently October 7, 2023 — you do not owe them sympathy. They are not “just like us.” And you do not need to apologize for protecting your people (especially when your side isn’t the instigator).
Let it be clear to those who remain confused: Jews are responsible for Jews, and Israelis are responsible for Israelis. Palestinians are fully capable of taking responsibility for their own future (if that is what their society and leaders choose to prioritize), nevermind the endless amounts of NGOs and so-called “humanitarian” organizations constantly jockeying to define and manage the Palestinian Industrial Complex.
That is neither Israel’s burden nor the Jews’ prerogative. Israel’s job is to ensure the survival, prosperity, and dignity of its own citizens. If that means building walls to defend against terrorist attacks, deploying the IDF into the West Bank or Gaza to neutralize imminent threats, or erecting checkpoints to maintain relative peace and security, then so be it. There are no points awarded for wishing away harsh realities or pretending the longstanding history of Palestinian violence against Israelis (most Israeli civilians) doesn’t exist. Every Israeli measure is a direct response to Palestinian actions, as it should be.
At the same time, Jews are chiefly responsible for the safety and well-being of their fellow Jews. This is what our ancient texts demand from us: All Jews are responsible for each other (“Kol Yisrael arevim zeh bazeh”). It is a fundamental principle in Jewish tradition, far more fundamental than “Tikkun Olam” (fixing the world). And, oh by the way, Jews cannot hope to “fix the world” if we are not first and foremost ensuring the safety and well-being of their own people.
This is no different than the entirely logical notion that you are responsible for caring for your own family, and the family living across the street from you is responsible for caring after themselves.
And yet, identity politics has become a troubling force within the Jewish world, both in Israel and across the Diaspora. I’m talking about Jews judging, shaming, or gatekeeping other Jews over political, cultural, or religious differences. More and more, Jews are only associating with other types of Jews who fit their rigid, narrow mold.
This Jew-on-Jew animosity undermines the very thing so many are claiming to uphold. And, it distracts from the central task: protecting our people, supporting our homeland, and building strong communities wherever we live. Instead of channeling energy into defending Jews and Jewish life, some spend it in moral posturing, as if their own judgment is the standard for Jewish legitimacy.
Identity politics within the Jewish world also feeds into the broader culture of self-doubt and apology that many Diaspora Jews carry: hesitation to be proud of Israel, reluctance to speak up against antisemitism, and the urge to constantly preemptively justify Jewish actions to outsiders. The result is not greater moral clarity; it is weakness disguised as conscience.
I remember sitting with my Israeli girlfriend at the time in a restaurant with communal tables. Across from us was a couple visiting from Europe. I had been in Israel for just about a year, and they asked me what I thought of the country so far. I told them I really liked it, but then I started listing a few negatives. Later, my girlfriend said to me, “Israelis don’t talk about Israel like that to outsiders. We keep our problems to ourselves.”
That stuck with me, still to this day. Perhaps Jews in the Diaspora would benefit from practicing this same restraint and pride. We don’t need to air Israel’s or our people’s struggles to outsiders in a way that invites judgment, pity, or moralizing. Critique has its place, but wouldn’t it be better if our discussions about Israel, Judaism, and the Jewish world remained internal, constructive, and rooted in care for our own people, not performed for the approval or conscience of the world?
Jews would be wise to remember that Israel did not grow strong by allowing other countries to charter its path. It became a regional power, a technological and cultural force, a military and intelligence behemoth, because it relied on itself. The IDF, Mossad, Iron Dome, world-class cyber capabilities, agricultural innovations, medical advancements — these are all products of initiative, not permission.
There is a great allegory about a tourist visiting Israel who’s in his rental car, driving around, looking for a parking spot, but can’t seem to find one. The tourist sees a police officer and asks, “I see there are a bunch of cars parked on the sidewalk. Can I park there too?” “No,” the police officer tells him. “But why are they allowed to park on the sidewalk?” the tourist asks, to which the police officer replies, “Because they didn’t ask.”
It is this mentality, this chutzpah if you will, that has made Israel’s economy (at least pre-October 7th) thrive for multiple decades (even withstanding the 2008 global financial crash and COVID). And it is this vision, labor, risk, and ingenuity that Israelis and Jews alike must immediately regain.
Of course, diplomacy matters. Alliances matter. International cooperation matters. Israel is not and has never been some pariah state looking to wreak havoc like Iran or North Korea. If you look at every engagement between Israel and another country, Israelis consistently offer immense value, including to the United States. This is not the nascent State of Israel of the 1950s, pining for international support. This is a self-sufficient, indispensable nation capable of defending itself, shaping its own destiny, and contributing globally in ways no one else could replicate.
It is not just Israel that demands self-respect; Jews everywhere must take the same lesson to heart when confronting antisemitism. Too often, the response to anti-Jewish hatred is framed as a matter of getting the right acknowledgment, support, or intervention from others: police departments, politicians, organizations. Of course, those relationships matter; they are useful tools. But they are the cherry on top, not the foundation. Relying on outsiders to protect Jews is exactly the mindset history has warned us against.
The main work of preventing, confronting, and ultimately defeating antisemitism rests first and foremost in Jewish hands. Education, cultural pride, community organization, rapid response networks, and strong, unapologetic voices who refuse to be silenced or shamed: These are our core weapons. We cannot outsource our dignity or our defense to anyone else. When Jews organize, educate, and assert themselves openly and confidently, the external support becomes helpful, but not necessary.
To be sure, I am not advocating for isolationism. Collaboration with law enforcement, governments, and allies is valuable, but only if built on a foundation of Jewish initiative and strength. We cannot sit back and hope that others will step in when attacks happen, whether they are physical assaults, vandalism, or the insidious spread of hateful narratives. Jews have always survived and thrived by taking responsibility for our own survival. That must continue today, both for Israel and the Jewish communities worldwide. Self-respect demands that we act first, decisively, and unapologetically, then welcome others’ support as reinforcement, not as validation.
As such, it is time Israelis and Jews internalize what history, geography, and reality have long demanded: self-respect. Not arrogance. Not belligerence for the sake of provocation. But a firm, unwavering recognition that our security, our morality, and our pride are not conditional on others’ approval.
Jews do not exist to be socially acceptable. Israel does not exist to satiate other countries’ conscience, to earn recognition from certain countries, or to placate selective moral outrage. Israel exists because courageous, unapologetic Jews decided that survival, prosperity, and dignity are ours to claim, no less in our indigenous homeland. If other countries take issue with Israeli self-respect, they can keep company with the anti-Israel nations that, coincidentally, are barely managing to stay afloat: Iraq, Iran, Syria, Pakistan, Cuba, North Korea, and Venezuela.
Then there are the countries that once vehemently opposed Israel — Egypt, Jordan, the United Arab Emirates, Morocco. They no longer posture as enemies because they understand something simple: Strength commands respect.
And real strength doesn’t come from waiting for approval or moral validation from the world; it begins from within. Israel’s respect on the global stage is earned not by asking permission, not by apologizing for its existence, and not by curating its image for outsiders. It is earned because Israel acts decisively, defends itself relentlessly, builds tirelessly, and refuses to be intimidated. Other nations can see it, measure it, and respond accordingly.
I’m reminded of the State of Israel’s founding prime minister, David Ben-Gurion, and the 1947 United Nations Partition Plan. Publicly, he went along with the deliberations; it was of diplomatic benefit to present the impending Jewish state as a responsible actor on the world stage.
But behind the scenes, Ben-Gurion and the other early Zionist pioneers were preparing for war, going as far back as the late 1930s. They understood that Arab leaders and much of their populace would never agree to any Jewish state of any size on any piece of land in the Middle East, no matter the immense Jewish history there, the moral necessity following the Holocaust, or the unprecedented socioeconomic opportunities that early Zionists had been creating in the region for both Arabs and Jews, beginning in the late 1800s.
So Ben-Gurion ensured that the Jews would be ready to defend themselves from the very moment they declared independence. He knew that survival, and the possibility of peace, depended not on foreign approval or diplomatic gestures alone, but on preparing, arming, and organizing a nation capable of standing on its own. Acting decisively, with clarity and courage, even while navigating international expectations, is what allowed Israel to endure against overwhelming odds.
That is the essence of self-respect, and that is the legacy we must continue to preserve.
Thank you for this reminder of what we've already endured and survived. We have so much to be proud of. And nothing to apologize for.
Once again— bravo Mr. Hoffman!