May 3, 2026

Antizionism Is Not Normal, Nor Should We Normalize It

Antizionism Is Not Normal,

Nor Should We Normalize It

Rabbi Menachem Creditor


I am a child of the Jewish Theological Seminary.

 

List College, class of 1997. The Davidson School, 2002. The Rabbinical School, 2002. My father walked those halls. My sister did too. My family’s story, like that of so many American Jews, is braided into the sacred mission of JTS since its founding in 1886. My family dried pages of books, one by one, from water damage after a fire ravaged the JTS library stacks in 1966. So for me to speak of JTS is not to speak of an abstraction. It is to speak of a living covenant between generations of Jews who believed that Torah, peoplehood, and the Land of Israel are inseparable threads of an enduring, unbreakable fabric.

 

So let us speak plainly.

 

The decision by JTS to honor President Isaac Herzog as a commencement speaker is not a betrayal of Jewish values. It is an affirmation of them.

 

The recent controversy, amplified beyond all proportion, tells us far more about the current moment than it does about JTS. Six graduating seniors signed a letter opposing Herzog. Six. Twenty-four, four times as many, signed in support. Four JTS rabbinical students, none of them even graduating this year, added their names to the protest letter. This is not a groundswell. It is not a generational rupture. It is a small but loud dissent that is being misrepresented as something larger, something normative.

 

It is not.

 

And we must not pretend otherwise.

 

JTS has never been neutral about the Jewish story. Nor should it be. From its earliest days, shaped by figures like Rabbi Sabato Morais, himself heir to the trauma of Iberian exile, the Seminary understood what too many now forget. Jewish survival without sovereignty is fragile. Jewish dignity without a homeland is contingent. Jewish learning untethered from Jewish peoplehood is incomplete.

 

Zionism was not an ideological add-on to Judaism. It was from its inception and remains its historical and spiritual unfolding.

 

To deny that is not nuance. It is willful amnesia.

 

There is a dangerous confusion taking root in parts of our community, a claim that one can stand within the tradition of serious Jewish learning while severing Judaism from Zionism. That one can graduate from institutions built on the covenantal relationship between people, Torah, and land, and then declare the Jewish state a moral aberration.

 

This is not intellectual courage. It is a rupture with the very foundations of Jewish existence.

 

No serious student of Jewish history can miss the pattern. From the destruction of Jerusalem to the expulsions of Spain and Portugal, from the ghettos of Europe to the ashes of the Shoah and the Shavuot 1941 Farhud in Iraq, Jewish vulnerability in exile is not theoretical. It is the central fact of our past. The founders of JTS did not need to debate the necessity of Jewish self-determination. They carried its urgency in their bones.

 

And now, in a moment when Israel is under sustained assault, militarily, morally, rhetorically, we are told that honoring the President of the Jewish state is somehow beyond the pale.

 

No.

 

As current junior at JTS’ List College Noah Lederman put it, “commencement is not a “safe space.” It is a sacred space. It marks the transmission of responsibility from one generation of Jewish leader to the next. To invite the President of Israel is to remind graduates that their learning is not detached from the fate of our people. It is bound up with it.

 

President Herzog does not represent a political party. He represents the State of Israel and the Jewish people. To refuse to hear him is not an act of conscience. It is a cowardly refusal to engage the complicated reality of Jewish sovereignty itself.

 

We can and must debate policies. We can and must wrestle with moral complexity. That is what Torah demands of us. But there is a line, just as rooted in the Torah and tradition, that must not be crossed. When critique becomes a denial of Israel’s legitimacy, when it echoes the language of those who seek not reform but eradication, it ceases to be Jewish discourse.

 

It becomes something else.

 

Let us be honest about the stakes. In a world where antisemitism is resurging with terrifying clarity, antizionism offers a convenient vocabulary through which ancient hatreds can be reframed as moral virtue. When Jews lend their voices to that project, even in the name of justice, they do not purify it. They legitimize it.

 

We dare not offer that gift.

 

Zionism is not political preference. It is the modern expression of ancient covenant. It is the insistence that Jewish life, Jewish memory, and Jewish destiny require a home in the world. To strip Judaism of that commitment is not to refine it. It is to hollow it out.

 

JTS knows this. It has always known this.

 

That is why it sends its rabbinical students to study in Israel. That is why Israel remains central to its mission. That is why honoring the President of Israel at commencement is not controversial in any deep sense. It is consistent.

 

The real danger is not that a handful of students dissent. Dissent has always been part of our tradition. The danger is that we begin to treat antizionism as just another legitimate Jewish position, one among many, equally rooted, equally valid.

 

It is not.

 

Antizionism is not normal. Nor should we normalize it.

 

To the graduates of JTS, I say this with love and with urgency: You are heirs to a tradition that refused to disappear, that commits to a Jewish evolutionary tradition. You are beneficiaries of generations who dreamed not only of surviving, but of returning, rebuilding, renewing Jewish life in its fullness, the deepest meaning of three words that have become, once again, defiance: Am Yisrael Chai!

 

Do not be the generation that forgets why that dream mattered.

 

Stand in the fullness of your inheritance. Study deeply. Argue fiercely. Care about justice. But never sever yourselves from your people. We were once denied our national identity as the cost of emancipated thinking. Do not imagine that Judaism can be disentangled from the reality of Jewish sovereignty without losing something essential, something irreplaceable, something necessary.

 

Zionism is not an accessory to Jewish identity.

 

It is one of its core expressions.

 

And JTS, in honoring the President of the State of Israel, is not betraying its mission.

 

It is fulfilling it.

 

 



Apr 23, 2026

Testimony and Presence on Long Island: A Yom HaShoah Reflection

Testimony and Presence on Long Island: A Yom HaShoah Reflection


Rabbi Menachem Creditor


I am still sitting with the strangeness of it.

I stood as keynote speaker at a Yom HaShoah VeHaGevurah commemoration on Long Island, the place of my childhood, and I am not a survivor. I am not the child of survivors, nor their grandchild. I carry no direct familial testimony of the Shoah. And yet, I was entrusted with words in a space defined by memory that is as sacred as it is searing.

And perhaps that is precisely the point.

Shoah Survivor Egon Salmon z”l spoke through recorded testimony, his voice bridging the abyss between then and now. My beloved friend, Shoah Survivor Ben Stern z”l, was with me in spirit, as he so often is, his moral clarity still marching, still teaching. And I felt, with unusual force, the truth of Shoah Survivor Elie Wiesel z”l’s teaching that to be witness to a witness makes one a witness. That sacred chain does not end with biology. It extends through sacred listening, through carrying, through refusing to let memory dissipate into abstraction.

Returning to Long Island for this moment carried its own emotional weight. This was not only a communal gathering. It was, for me, a kind of homecoming into responsibility. To stand there and help articulate a response to the Shoah, to hatred, to the persistence of antisemitism, while also insisting on Jewish beauty, on Jewish life that is not only reactive but generative, felt like a delicate and necessary balance.

The purposes of Yom HaShoah VeHaGevurah are many. Education. Moral formation. Historical clarity. But the ritual itself is profoundly clear. Testimony. Knowledge. Awareness. Honoring the dead. These are not abstract ideals. They are acts. They are obligations.

I was deeply moved by the presence of Scouts BSA Troop 240, who sang the national anthem. I shared with them that I, too, was once a Long Island Cub Scout, formed in part by the values of that movement. And then I noticed something that stayed with me. There were no identifiable Jewish scouts in that troop. There were boys and girls. One scout was wearing a hijab.

I found myself speaking not only to the Jewish community gathered there, but to her. To all who were listening from outside the boundaries of Jewish identity. I spoke about the blasphemy of the Shoah as the denial of the full humanity of the Jewish people. And I spoke about what Judaism demands of us in response.

Our ethical reflex is ancient. Emerging directly from the memory of our own enslavement in Egypt, the Torah commands us not to oppress the stranger, precisely because we know the experience of being othered. That memory is not meant to harden us. It is meant to sensitize us.

And then Hillel, under Roman occupation thousands of years later, sharpens the teaching even further. What is hateful to you, do not do to another. Not only to your fellow Jew. To another. Full stop.

At one point I locked eyes with that scout. I wanted her to know that I saw her, not as a symbol, not as a contrast, but as a human being standing in a sacred space of Jewish memory. And I wanted her to feel that the values I was teaching demanded that I see her that way. Just as her presence there suggested, to me, that she saw me.

Was it a full reckoning between communities, histories, and identities? Of course not. That is not what a single gathering can accomplish. But there was something real in that moment. Something intentional. A shared willingness to be present within a structure that asked something of us. That held us steady for the moment.

It was not the chaotic, unbounded, often dehumanizing space of public discourse we have grown used to. It was a ritual. And ritual, when it works, creates the conditions for truth to be carried with care.

I left feeling humbled. Grateful. A bit unsettled in the way that sacred responsibility often leaves a person.

And I pray that, in some small way, it brought honor to the memory of the six million.

____________
Photo: Jewish Community Relations Council - Long Island (JCRC-LI)/Congregation Shaaray Shalom Holocaust Remembrance Service, April 19, 2026 (photo: Raya Creditor)

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Antizionism Is Not Normal, Nor Should We Normalize It

Antizionism Is Not Normal, Nor Should We Normalize It Rabbi Menachem Creditor I am a child of the Jewish Theological Seminary.   List Colleg...