Nearly eight decades after the establishment of the State of Israel, a question remains about the movement that helped bring it into existence: Is Zionism still necessary?
What began in the late 19th century as a movement for Jewish national self-determination achieved its central political objective in 1948. Today Israel is an established state, with its own government, military, and institutions. Yet Zionism remains central to Israeli identity, even as the term has become increasingly contested abroad.
For a generation born decades after independence, the question is no longer simply whether Jews have the right to a state, but what Zionism means now that the state exists.
The word itself predates the modern political movement. Zion, a biblical name for Jerusalem, has represented the Jewish people’s religious and historical connection to the Land of Israel for centuries. The longing to return to Zion has remained part of Jewish prayer, tradition, and identity throughout generations of exile.
Only toward the end of the 19th century, amid rising European nationalism and antisemitism, did this attachment develop into an organized political movement. The term “Zionism” emerged around 1890 through the writings of Nathan Birnbaum, before Theodor Herzl gave the movement greater political direction with the publication of The Jewish State in 1896.
A year later, the First Zionist Congress convened in Basel, Switzerland, setting out the goal of establishing a publicly and legally secured home for the Jewish people in Palestine.
In 1948, with Israel’s Declaration of Independence, that central ambition became a reality. But the establishment of the state also raised a new question: What would Zionism stand for once the Jewish people had achieved political sovereignty?
Beyond statehood
For Itai, a 26-year-old Israeli-born religious Jew and IDF reservist, Zionism’s purpose did not end with the establishment of the state; rather, the responsibilities associated with it changed.
“I feel like Zionism has changed in the last 70, 80 years, many times,” he said, explaining that contributing to the state’s development is how he understands Zionism today. “I just need to be here as a good citizen, pay my taxes, draft into the army, do my bit, and that’s like automatically my Zionism comes about.”
His understanding reflects a broader shift in Zionism after 1948. The movement was no longer concerned primarily with establishing a Jewish national home, but increasingly with maintaining and shaping the state that had been created.
Questions of immigration, security, religion, and the character of Israeli society became part of a continuing debate over what Zionism should represent. Yet Itai believes its original purpose has not been entirely fulfilled.
“I think Zionism will always have relevance. And also, we haven’t completed that yet,” he said.
For him, the existence of a Jewish state cannot be taken for granted while its legitimacy continues to be questioned internationally. As a religious Jew, he also understands the longing for Zion through Jewish religious aspirations that extend beyond political independence.
A contested word
The debate over Zionism’s relevance extends beyond Israel’s borders, where the term has acquired meanings far removed from its original political purpose.
The Six Day War in 1967 marked a significant turning point. Israel’s capture of the West Bank, east Jerusalem, and other territories brought questions of occupation, settlements, and competing national claims increasingly into debates about Zionism.
In 1975, the United Nations General Assembly adopted a resolution equating Zionism with racism and racial discrimination. Although the resolution was revoked in 1991, the association continued to influence international political discourse.
The October 7, 2023, Hamas attacks and the subsequent war in Gaza brought the term renewed prominence in protests, public debate, and online discourse.
For some, Zionism continues to represent Jewish national self-determination. For others, it has become associated with Israeli government policies, the occupation, or the denial of Palestinian national rights. Criticism of Israeli policies, opposition to Zionism, and antisemitism are distinct concepts, although they can overlap.
Itai believes much of the disagreement stems from conflicting definitions.
“I think they need to define for themselves first what those words are and have a clear definition, and not just act on impulse,” he said, referring to those who identify as anti-Zionist while rejecting accusations of antisemitism.
Rebecca Lazarus, 26, who moved to Israel from Australia at 19, expressed a similar frustration.
“It’s not that the world needs more Zionism, the world needs more objective truth,” she said.
For Lazarus, the difficulty lies partly in how far the word’s meaning has shifted from what she understands it to represent. But her own attachment to Zionism is rooted less in political terminology than in her experience of choosing to live in Israel.
Choosing Israel
Growing up in Australia, Lazarus remembers feeling that her Jewish life existed separately from the country around her.
She recalls wondering what it must be like to live somewhere where national life and religious identity moved together. Even years after making aliyah, seeing sufganiyot (Hanukkah donuts) in shops or buses displaying Shabbat greetings remains significant to her.
Living in Israel, she explained, means that her personal story is connected to the country’s.
“Your life has the same trajectory as the country that you’re living in, and you feel a part of everything going on,” she said.
For Lazarus, Zionism requires more than supporting Israel from a distance. Having left behind the familiarity and comfort of life in Australia, she believes the decision to live in Israel carries particular significance.
“If you’re not willing to sacrifice the comfort of your life, then you’re not as much of a Zionist as you’re saying because you’re picking something else over Israel,” she said.
It is a distinction she makes between those who support Israel and those who choose to take an active part in its future.
Itai, who has worked with Jewish youth abroad, takes a somewhat different approach. He believes the meaning of Zionism changes depending on where a Jew lives.
“I, as an Israel-Jew, don’t have to prove my Jewishness,” he said. In Israel, Jewish identity is embedded in everyday national life. Abroad, he argued, Jews may feel a greater need to express their connection to Israel consciously.
For both, October 7 reinforced the significance of living in a Jewish state, even as it exposed differences between experiencing events in Israel and watching them unfold from abroad.
Lazarus described the distance she felt from friends in Australia who could turn off the news, while those living in Israel could not escape the war’s consequences.
“You can’t forget about the war when you’re living in it,” she said.
Nearly 80 years after independence, Zionism no longer has a single agreed-upon meaning. For some, its central objective has been achieved. For others, maintaining the Jewish state and taking responsibility for its future remain part of the same national undertaking.
The question facing a generation born long after the establishment of Israel is whether Zionism is still needed to define that responsibility, or whether the state it helped create has given the term a different purpose.■