Weaponised Lens

So Netanyahu wastes no time. Israeli embassy staff are killed in the US, and before the bodies are cold, he declares it anti-Semitic. Not a political assassination. Not a response to Israel’s policies. Not an isolated act in a broader geopolitical context – no, straight to anti-Semitism. Case closed.

Now, it may well turn out to be anti-Semitic. That’s entirely possible. But as it stands, there’s not a shred of evidence. No manifesto, no racial slurs, no affiliation with hate groups. What we do have is a reported shout of “Free Palestine!” – which complicates Netanyahu’s narrative rather awkwardly.

Because if someone commits a killing while invoking Palestine, that suggests rage against the state of Israel, not hatred of Jews. Misplaced, murderous rage – absolutely. But political, not racial. The attacker didn’t yell “Death to Jews.” He shouted about a people under occupation. That distinction matters. Or at least it should – unless we’re now pretending that any opposition to Israel is by definition a hate crime.

And that’s the trick: conflate Israel with all Jews, and suddenly any act against the state becomes an attack on the entire faith. Criticism becomes persecution. Resistance becomes racism. It’s a cynical sleight of hand – and a dangerous one. Not least because it trivialises real anti-Semitism and uses Jewish identity to shield a government whose military is currently levelling entire neighbourhoods.

That trick reached farcical levels this week, when Netanyahu accused not just one, but three Western leaders – Keir Starmer, Emmanuel Macron, and Mark Carney – of “emboldening Hamas” and fuelling antisemitic violence, simply because they called for a ceasefire and more humanitarian aid in Gaza. Yes, even Starmer – a man married to a Jewish woman, who observes Shabbat with his family, and who’s done more to tackle anti-Semitism in the Labour Party than any of his predecessors. But in Netanyahu’s world, even he is smeared with the brush of bigotry, simply for suggesting that bombing civilians might not be the path to peace.

It’s absurd. And it reveals the strategy: any criticism – no matter how cautious, moderate, or humanitarian – gets spun as support for terror. It's a move designed not to protect Jews, but to silence critics of Israeli policy. And that’s not just dishonest – it’s corrosive.

Because if criticising the Israeli government is anti-Semitic, what does that say about the 56 to 70 percent of Israelis who oppose Netanyahu’s actions in Gaza and beyond? Are they anti-Semitic too? Are the tens of thousands marching in Tel Aviv – demanding a ceasefire and calling for Netanyahu’s resignation – suffering from some form of self-hatred? Or is it only non-Jews who get smeared for pointing out the obvious?

By Netanyahu’s logic, if someone shouts “Free Palestine” before committing a murder, it’s proof of bigotry. But when an Israeli pilot drops American-made munitions on a refugee camp, killing civilians, that’s just “neutralising a threat.” When a Palestinian child is pulled from the rubble, we’re told Israel had no choice. But if violence flows the other way, nuance vanishes. It's racism. No debate. No context. Just hatred.

It’s a grotesque double standard. You can’t brand your enemy’s violence as identity-based hatred while insisting your own identity-driven actions are above criticism. That’s not justice – it’s propaganda. Because if one act is labelled anti-Semitism, then the other damn well should be called Islamophobia. Otherwise, we’re not applying principles – we’re just deciding whose corpses count.

Let’s be clear: the killing of embassy staff is murder, not resistance. But so is the bombardment of city blocks. And if we insist on viewing violence through the lens of identity, then that lens must work both ways. Otherwise, we’re not fighting bigotry – we’re managing narratives.

You can’t wrap every Israeli death in the Star of David and shout “Never again,” while reducing every Palestinian death to a regrettable inconvenience. That’s not moral clarity. That’s narrative warfare – and it’s got to stop.