As It Goes for Israel, So It Goes for All of Us

In 1968, the American philosopher and social critic Eric Hoffer wrote something that, at the time, might have seemed enigmatic or overly dramatic. He said:

“I have a premonition that will not leave me; as it goes for Israel so it will go for all of us.”

More than half a century later, his words have lost none of their power — if anything, they now read as a dire prophecy fulfilled in slow motion.

Israel, in Hoffer’s time, was a young and fragile democracy. It was barely two decades old, forged out of the trauma of the Holocaust and the ashes of centuries of exile and persecution. It had already fought multiple wars for survival, absorbed waves of Jewish refugees from Europe, the Arab world, and beyond, and was being relentlessly scrutinised and judged on the world stage in ways no other nation was.

To Hoffer, Israel was more than just a country. It was a symbol, a test, and (crucially) a warning.

A Mirror of Civilization

Israel has always represented something much larger than itself. It is a liberal democracy with an independent judiciary, a free press, a vibrant civil society, and protection of religious and minority rights — an outlier in a region dominated by autocracy and repression. It is also the only Jewish state in the world — an indigenous people reclaiming sovereignty in their ancestral homeland after two millennia of dispersion, pogroms, ghettos, expulsions, and genocide.

Hoffer recognized that how the world responded to Israel — whether it defended its right to exist and to defend itself, or whether it turned against it — would reveal something deeper about the moral and political health of global civilisation. If Israel could be demonised, delegitimised, or destroyed without the world intervening, then no liberal democracy, no free society, and no vulnerable minority could feel truly secure.

He was right.

In the decades since he wrote those words, we’ve seen the erosion of moral clarity when it comes to Israel metastasize into something broader and more dangerous. What began as isolated acts of hostility or political bias has morphed into a global phenomenon: antisemitism rebranded as antizionism, Israel held to standards no other country is held to, and open calls for its destruction met with applause in lecture halls and silence in parliaments.

And it doesn’t stop there.

The Global Reverberations of Moral Failure

What we are witnessing now is not merely a campaign against one state. It is a collapse of the principles that have sustained the post-war international order. Truth is distorted through social media. Terrorist acts are excused if the targets are Israeli. The deadliest massacre of Jews since the Holocaust — on October 7, 2023 — is minimised, justified, or erased altogether by activists who profess to care about human rights.

Universities that once championed open inquiry and tolerance have become staging grounds for hate-filled chants and intimidation of Jewish students. International institutions designed to prevent genocide and protect the vulnerable now routinely censure the Middle East’s only democracy while ignoring the worst human rights abuses elsewhere. Major media outlets bend over backward to obscure the truth, elevating narratives over facts.

The same tools used to isolate and demonise Israel — disinformation, ideological rigidity, moral relativism — are being used to attack other democracies too. We see this in the normalisation of political extremism, the silencing of dissenting voices, and the growing tolerance for authoritarianism in countries that once prided themselves on being open societies.

This is what Hoffer meant. When Israel becomes the scapegoat, it’s not just Israel at risk. The very idea of a moral international community starts to unravel.

The Jewish People as the World’s Moral Barometer

There is something deeply revealing about the world’s treatment of Jews and of Israel. Across history, Jews have often served as a kind of moral barometer. In societies where Jews flourished, tolerance, innovation, and pluralism flourished too. Where Jews were persecuted, those societies eventually turned on others as well.

In our own time, antisemitism is once again rising — not on the margins, but in the mainstream. It is dressed in the language of human rights, cloaked in calls for “decolonisation,” and amplified by influencers, academics, and even elected officials. But peel back the layers, and the hatred is unmistakable.

Jews are targeted not only for their beliefs or practices but for their very existence. The same is now true of the Jewish state. Its existence is treated not as a historical miracle or a political right, but as a provocation — a problem to be solved, an entity to be “dismantled.”

This isn’t just about Israel. It’s about the world’s tolerance for hate disguised as virtue. And it’s about the willingness — or unwillingness — of people of conscience to stand up against it.

New Zealand’s Role

Here in New Zealand, we pride ourselves on being a fair and democratic society. We celebrate multiculturalism, uphold human rights, and support international law. But even here, the erosion of moral clarity is making itself felt.

When rallies in our streets include chants for the destruction of Israel, when antisemitic slogans are scrawled on school gates, when Jewish students feel unsafe on campus, and when political leaders remain silent or equivocate, we must ask — what future are we shaping?

Standing with Israel does not mean agreeing with every government policy, just as standing with New Zealand doesn’t mean agreeing with every political decision made in Wellington. It means affirming Israel’s right to exist in peace and security. It means recognizing the unique historical and existential threats it faces. And it means rejecting the double standards that are applied to it and to no other nation.

If we fail this test, we are not only abandoning Israel. We are undermining the values we say we hold dear.

A Choice Before Us

Eric Hoffer’s premonition remains a challenge to us all. In a world increasingly saturated with ideological fervor and moral confusion, Israel stands as both a beacon and a target — a reminder of what is possible and a warning of what is at stake.

To defend Israel is not merely a gesture of solidarity. It is a commitment to civilisation, to truth, to democracy, and to human dignity. The threats faced by Israel today — disinformation, terror, hatred — are the same threats encroaching on all open societies. If we fail to defend Israel against these forces, we will struggle to defend ourselves when those same forces come for us.

So let us heed Hoffer’s warning not as a prophecy of doom, but as a call to action. Because as it goes for Israel, so it goes for all of us.