Are You A Zionist?
What was once a simple question is now a litmus test - used by both the left and the right.
Are you a “Zionist”? I get the question all the time - from all sides.
When those to my right ask, what they’re really saying is: Can I trust that when you and J Street criticize the Israeli government, you’re doing it out of real concern for Israel and the Jewish people?
When those to my left ask, what they’re really saying is: Are you a racist? An ethno-nationalist? Do you support the oppression of another people?
“Zionist” is rarely used today as a description of political belief. It’s a test – of identity, loyalty, or morality. Sometimes it’s simply an epithet.
And arguments over the label often distract from the more important debate about underlying realities - much as disputes over terms like genocide or apartheid do.
Discussion of Zionism has always been more complex than a yes-or-no answer allows. There has never been consensus in the Jewish community – about supporting it or about what it means.
Over the last century and a half, many Jews rejected it. Some saw Judaism as a religion, not a nationality. Some feared Jewish nationalism would undermine the fight for equal rights where they lived. Others believed the Jewish future lay in universalist ideologies like socialism or liberal democracy, not nationalism.
Twenty years ago in early discussions about J Street, we understood how much baggage the word carried already then. The occupation was decades old, peace efforts had collapsed, and Israeli politics had shifted rightward.
At its core, J Street was built around a simple question: can one be a Zionist and openly oppose Israeli government policy?
My understanding of “Zionism” is straightforward: The Jewish people have the right to national self-determination in their ancestral homeland.
Modern nationalism - the idea that peoples have a right to govern themselves in lands to which they have deep historical ties – emerged as a potent force in the 19th century. It’s no surprise that Jews, after centuries as a vulnerable minority, embraced the idea.
My own family was part of that story. My great-grandparents left the Russian Empire in the 1880s to escape violence and build new lives in their people’s historic home.
It is equally unsurprising that the Palestinian people came to seek that same right – in the land their families had called home for centuries.
Two peoples - Jews and Palestinians - each with deep roots and legitimate claims are bound to the same land. The tragedy is not that one is right and the other wrong – but that both are right, and they collide.
Zionism does not deny Palestinian nationalism. It depends on it. Without it, it cannot succeed. The Jewish national project cannot be secure, democratic, or true to its values if the other people living alongside it is denied those same rights.
I understand why some resist calling Zionism a “project.” But it is an effort begun more than a century ago that remains unfinished.
Israel today lacks internationally-recognized borders. It remains mired in ongoing conflict and rules over another people denied equal rights.
Its current leadership is increasingly militaristic and undemocratic, pursuing policies and expressing views that violate core Jewish ethical values.
That is not the fulfillment of the Zionist vision. It is its distortion.
Jewish sovereignty is a test of whether a people long denied power can exercise it faithful to the moral principles we claim to uphold.
At this moment, we are failing the test.
My hope is that my children and grandchildren will one day feel pride in the country our family helped build. For that to be possible, Israel must recommit to the moral values at the heart of Jewish tradition.
That means rejecting the idea that loyalty requires silence. It means refusing blind allegiance to policies that deny another people freedom and abandon the pursuit of peace.
Zionism was – and remains – a project of the entire Jewish people: those who live in the land and those who do not. Jews in the diaspora helped build and sustain the state. We therefore have both a stake in its future and a responsibility to speak out about the direction it is taking.
So when I am asked, simply, yes or no – am I a Zionist?
Yes.
But my Zionism is not a slogan or a loyalty test. It is not an endorsement of what the current Israeli government does.
It is a commitment to a democratic national home for the Jewish people and to the equal right of the Palestinian people to their own state in that same land.
When that reality is achieved – and it must be – the idea it represents will no longer be so fiercely contested.
And the word that describes it will no longer be so hard to say.
As we approach the end of the first quarter of 2026 in a deeply challenging moment, if you value J Street’s nuanced voice, we hope you’ll consider supporting our work.



The current Israeli government does not just violate Jewish ethical values. It threatens the Jewish people because it is working to undermine Israel's democracy. That is, it threatens Jews' freedom.
The State of Israel exists - indeed it must exist - so that Jews can be free in their own land. If Israel is not a democracy, it means Jews are not free in it - and that means Israel becomes just another country oppressing Jews.
To be a Zionist today requires us to oppose the current Israeli government, just as we must oppose all threats to Jewish freedom.
Jeremy Ben Ami articulates questions and answers about Israel better than anyone taking on these issues at this time.
Zionism is “a commitment to a democratic national home for the Jewish people and to the equal right of the Palestinian people to their own state in that same land.”
Am I a Zionist” [he asks]?
“Yes” [he and I answer].