The term “genocide” carries a complex and contentious history, its meaning often shaped by personal and cultural experiences. While its technical definition covers a range of scenarios, people tend to emphasize different aspects, making debates about its use fraught and deeply subjective. Claiming a monopoly on its definition, or accusing others of misusing it, rarely leads to productive discourse. If we wish to communicate effectively—or persuade—we must first consider what “genocide” means to different audiences.
The pressing question today is whether Israel’s policies toward Palestinians constitute genocide. Palestinians and much of the Arab world might argue that they do. But rather than focusing on how Palestinians define it, the more critical question is how Israelis—and by extension, many Jewish people—perceive the term. For them, the notion of genocide is often deeply tied to their historical experience in Nazi Germany, where hatred of Jews culminated in a state-sponsored campaign to exterminate an entire people. In this context, genocide is synonymous with a denial of the right to exist, not merely the desire to expel or subjugate.
Given this framework, it becomes clear why Israelis tend to reject the accusation of genocide in relation to Palestinians. Judaism, being a non-proselytizing religion, fundamentally seeks to be left alone rather than to convert or persuade others. This contrasts with the Christian tradition, where missionary work has historically sought to reshape other cultures. Even secular Westerners, often unknowingly influenced by this worldview, may project similar ambitions onto Israel, imagining that Israelis harbor a desire to eliminate Arabs in the same way the Nazis sought to eliminate Jews. But, aside from some minority extremist views, this assumption does not hold.
Genocide, in its most horrific form, requires a deliberate and systemic effort to eradicate a population—something that demands vast resources and a chilling commitment to cruelty. Israel, with its inward-focused ethos, has little appetite for such endeavors. As Henry Kissinger once remarked, “Israel has no foreign policy, only domestic policy.” The state’s actions on the international stage are largely reactive, driven by immediate domestic needs rather than global ideological ambitions. If Palestinians were to leave the West Bank and Gaza tomorrow, Israelis would have no interest in hunting them down. The idea would be absurd to most Israelis, who dismiss the charge of genocide not out of malice but because it simply does not align with their understanding of the term.
This gap in perception renders accusations of genocide ineffective as a tool of criticism. Rather than sparking meaningful reflection, such charges provide an easy way for Israel to deflect and dismiss criticism altogether. In fact, invoking the term can bolster Israel’s defense, reinforcing the belief that such accusations are rooted in antisemitism. For Israelis, the idea that they would pursue Palestinians around the globe, as Nazis might have done to Jews, is not only irrational but delusional.
Israel is, at its core, an ethnocracy. Like Iran’s theocracy, it maintains a veneer of democracy, but ethnicity remains paramount. For Israel, the goal is not to eradicate Arabs but to maintain a Jewish-majority state. Minorities may be accommodated, much as Jewish communities lived in historical Palestine, but only so long as they do not threaten the country’s ethnic balance.
In this light, the label of “colonization” also falls short. It conjures images of British imperialism, where native populations were subjugated or exploited. But Israelis, for the most part, have little interest in interacting with non-Jews unless absolutely necessary. This is why Israel is unlikely to pursue large-scale territorial conquests—dealing with a significant non-Jewish population would pose a direct challenge to its ethnocratic identity. While territorial expansion might be used as a bargaining chip, Israel does not seek new lands in the conventional sense, because the people who come with those lands would be problematic for the state. Israel’s unique expression of territorial ambition would likely manifest more gradually, with creeping expansion and expelling of the native population, much like how gentrification happens in New York City. Equating it with British-style colonialism will fail to articulate and criticize this strategy accurately. If the problem is ill-defined, it cannot be solved.
By using terms like “genocide” and “colonialism” in these debates, critics of Israel risk doing their cause more harm than good. The language, rather than sparking meaningful dialogue, is easily dismissed. If the goal is conflict resolution, we must find terms that resonate better with both sides. Instead of offering Israel an easy defense, critics should craft arguments that cannot easily be dismissed. They should not be self-satisfied with having the “correct” definition—it should be about finding the right language to move the conversation forward.
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