“Free Palestine” and the Hidden Cost of a Slogan: A Call for Clarity
As a Jew whose grandparents fled the pogroms of Western Europe, I carry a visceral understanding of displacement and the longing for a safe homeland. Their story, like that of millions of Jews, fuels my connection to Israel—a tiny nation born from necessity, not conquest. Yet today, in Western cities, I see keffiyehs worn and chants of “Free Palestine” ringing out, often by well-meaning people unaware of the weight of their actions. Recently, that weight hit home. Just a couple of weeks ago, outside a local store, someone I once knew—one of the few Arab individuals in my town, who had drifted from my life after squatting at a friend’s house and blackmailing them—yelled “Free Palestine” at me. They didn’t know my political views but clearly recognized my Jewish identity. The encounter stung, not just as a personal slight but as a reminder of how these slogans can target and divide. To me, they are not neutral expressions of solidarity but dog whistles for antisemitism, risking harm to both Jews and the very people they claim to support. Let me explain why—and invite you to reflect on the unintended consequences.
A History Misunderstood
The term “Palestine” carries a complex history. Before 1948, under the British Mandate, “Palestinian” often referred to Jews living in the region, who sought freedom from colonial rule. The Palestine Post, now the Jerusalem Post, was a Jewish newspaper; the Palestine Orchestra, a Jewish ensemble. The land, part of the Ottoman Empire for centuries and later a British Mandate, was never an independent state called Palestine. The idea of a distinct “Palestinian” identity, as we know it today, gained traction in the 1960s under Yasser Arafat’s PLO, arguably as a political tool to counter Israel’s existence. Without Israel, the region might have been absorbed by Jordan or Egypt, not a sovereign “Palestine.” This isn’t to deny the presence of Arab communities but to question whether their identity was crafted to undermine Jewish self-determination.
Some argue that Palestinian identity predates the 1960s, rooted in cultural ties to the land since the Ottoman era. Yet, even if true, the modern push for a “free Palestine” often ignores a critical truth: the Islamic world’s broader rejection of a Jewish state. After 1948, nearly 900,000 Jews were expelled or fled from Arab countries, stripped of homes and livelihoods, yet they rebuilt in Israel without clinging to refugee status. Meanwhile, roughly 700,000 Arabs displaced during Israel’s War of Independence—often encouraged by Arab leaders to flee and fight—remain stateless generations later, their plight weaponized by neighboring regimes to perpetuate conflict. Why haven’t these refugees been integrated, as millions of Hindus were after Pakistan’s 1947 partition? The answer lies in a deliberate strategy to keep Palestinians as pawns against Israel.
What Does “Free Palestine” Really Mean?
Since Israel withdrew from Gaza in 2005, removing all settlements and troops, the chant of “Free Palestine” cannot mean ending an occupation there—Gaza has been self-governed. Yet Hamas, elected in 2006, has turned Gaza into a launching pad for attacks, diverting billions in aid to build tunnels and stockpile weapons instead of schools or hospitals. Palestinian leaders have rejected statehood offers—in 1937, 1947, 2000, and 2008—because accepting them meant recognizing Israel’s right to exist. So, what does “Free Palestine” envision? A state like Gaza, where Hamas rules, free speech is stifled, women lack equal rights, and minorities face persecution? Is this the freedom Western supporters champion?
Worse, these protests don’t aid Gaza’s people—they embolden Hamas. Before October 7, 2023, tens of thousands of Gazans crossed into Israel daily to work, building livelihoods and fostering hope for coexistence. Many dreamed of peace, not conflict. Yet, Hamas’s attack that day—killing 1,200 and taking 250 hostages—shattered those ties, prompting Israel’s response and a blockade that has worsened conditions. Western chants of “Free Palestine” amplify Hamas’s narrative, giving it leverage while ordinary Gazans suffer. Aid meant for rebuilding is siphoned for war, leaving a population—many of whom yearn for normalcy—trapped.
Contrast this with Israel, the region’s only democracy, where 20% of citizens are Arab, enjoying rights to vote, worship, and live freely—rights unmatched in most of the 50-odd Muslim-majority nations. Israel doesn’t seek to expand or convert others; it seeks survival. For Jews, after 6 million perished in the Holocaust and nearly a million were driven from Arab lands, Israel is the last refuge. To call for its erasure under the guise of “freedom” risks endorsing a second genocide.
The Keffiyeh and Western Solidarity
In the West, wearing a keffiyeh—originally a practical Bedouin garment, now a symbol of Palestinian resistance—often signals more than cultural appreciation. Post-October 7, 2023, many Jews perceive it as a hostile emblem, especially when worn to obscure faces in protests that vilify Israel. While some wear it to support the oppressed, they may not grasp its alignment with groups like Hamas, whose charter calls for Israel’s destruction. This isn’t appreciation; it’s appropriation that amplifies a narrative painting Jews as oppressors, ignoring their indigenous ties to the land and their centuries of persecution.
I understand the impulse to stand with those seen as downtrodden. But consider: Palestinians are part of a broader Arab world, which spans 22 nations and vast resources, yet often rejects the values of tolerance and freedom we cherish in the West. These nations have not absorbed their kin, preferring to fuel a conflict that paints Israel as the sole villain. If the goal is justice, why not demand accountability from Hamas or Arab leaders who perpetuate this cycle?
A Personal Plea
My grandparents’ flight from pogroms taught me that safety is not guaranteed. Israel, for all its imperfections, is a miracle—a place where Jews, scarred by history, build lives and contribute to the world. Chanting “Free Palestine” or donning a keffiyeh may feel righteous, but these actions often echo a call to dismantle the only Jewish state, leaving 16 million Jews worldwide vulnerable once more. If you support freedom, ask yourself: What does a “free Palestine” look like? A state coexisting with Israel, or one replacing it? Who benefits from keeping this conflict alive, and who pays the price?
I don’t doubt the sincerity of many activists. But sincerity without scrutiny can fuel harm. Let’s demand clarity—about history, intentions, and consequences. Only then can we move toward a future where all people in this land, Jew and Arab, find peace.
