Is yelling "death to the IDF" antisemitic?

An honest and soul-searching appraisal of what we're really dealing with.

Is it antisemitic to say "death to the IDF?"

That depends on what you think antisemitism is.

Understanding antisemitism as a conspiracy theory helps clarify how certain political gestures — like those seen at Glastonbury 2025 with Kneecap and Bob Vylan — can veer into antisemitic territory, even if the performers don’t explicitly mention Jews or believe themselves to be hateful.

Let’s unpack this carefully and precisely.

1. What happened?

Both Kneecap and Bob Vylan used their Glastonbury performances to express vehement opposition to Israel, a wish of death upon the IDF, and support for a Palestinian cause. These gestures included chants, visuals, or slogans that went beyond criticism of the Israeli government, and were delivered with heavy moral force to a festival crowd primed to cheer.

2. Is this inherently antisemitic?

Not necessarily.
Criticism of Israel, criticism of its army, or critical of its state—even harsh, angry criticism—is not inherently antisemitic. Many Jews criticise Israeli policies, and international law allows for condemnation of any state’s actions. The IHRA definition of antisemitism specifically addresses this:

“Manifestations (of antisemitism) might include the targeting of the state of Israel, conceived as a Jewish collectivity. However, criticism of Israel similar to that levelled against any other country cannot be regarded as antisemitic.”

I don’t recall having seen any ‘anti-zionists’ at the anti-Netanyahu rallies in Caulfield park in 2022. They seem to have been activated not by efforts to improve Israel—as we ought with any state—but to destroy it. Anti-zionism is the effort to annul the state of Israel, and it is why anti-zionists do not contribute to peace processes.

The misunderstanding of antisemitism as race-based hatred makes sense, and is contextually driven¹ [reading this footnote is non-negotiable]. We are used to identifying prejudices as a product of little else than personal attributes. For example, homophobia, racism, and sexism all stem from a focus on another’s sexuality, genetic make up or ‘race’, or their biological underpinnings.

When we understand antisemitism as a conspiracy theory, the line becomes clearer, and the ability to empathise with Jews who feel unfairly targeted becomes far more clear.

3. Where antisemitism may creep in:

a. Imagining Israel as a uniquely malevolent global actor

When Israel is depicted not just as wrong or unjust, but as a symbol of evil—a regime so monstrous that any association with it must be shamed—it starts to echo the conspiratorial thinking central to antisemitism:

That behind suffering and injustice lies a uniquely powerful, hidden force — in this case, the Jewish state.

Many attribute these feelings to the current incarnation of the Arab-Israeli Conflict, and Israel’s bombing of Gaza. The sad reality is that this is an example of what Philosophy 101 students learn is called a post hoc ergo propter hoc fallacy, which means ‘after this, therefore because of this’.

Post hoc ergo propter hoc describes a logical fallacy where it is assumed that because one event follows another, the first event must have caused the second.

Hezbollah joined in with Hamas on October 7, beginning their bombing. By October 8 my western fellows were posting ‘glory to the martyrs’ and ‘all resistance is justified’. Israel was already being accused of a genocide. I walked my dog around Caulfield park to see hostage posters lining the streets and telegraph poles. I returned the next morning to see them torn down.

Israel’s bombing of Gaza did not affect global perception of Jews, Jewish safety, and Jewish self-determination as much as many believe. Antisemitism did not magically re-appear, it was a baseline already under-girding most of the world’s conceptions of Israel’s mere right to exist, also known as zionism.

b. Collapsing “Jew” and “Zionist” without distinction

Even if performers say "Zionist" or "Israel," when their language, tone, or imagery suggests a totalising indictment, it risks being understood—or intended—as about Jews globally, who are often assumed (wrongly) to be partaking in a war.

Jews, globally, are however partaking in zionism—they are, 90% of the time, connected to their culture in the same way an Irish person is connected to having been from Ireland—even if their great great great grandparents left Ireland for Australia two centuries ago.

Unlike the Irish, Jews were culled from their homeland by successive colonial conquests, forcibly removed, and are still threatened not to re-inhabit their homeland on pain of death.

This pain of death threat is what caused Israel’s invasion by five of its neighbours on the day of its independence in 1948, and is the same pain of death initiative that compelled people both in the region and in the west to support Operation Al-Aqsa Flood (October 7).

Churches and mosques were built on top of Jews’ temples—most of which remain, like the Al-Aqsa mosque.

c. Demanding moral purification through disavowal

When artists use Israel-Palestine as a litmus test of moral worth — pressuring other artists to “pick a side” or audiences to “speak up” — it taps into a kind of populist purging logic that echoes historical patterns in antisemitic thought:

"You are either with the victims or with the manipulators."

This binary moral schema is part of conspiratorial antisemitism: the belief that silence equals complicity, and complicity with Jews (or Israel) is corruption.

This has been the driving force behind the Australian creative industries’ ‘zionist witch hunts’ post October 7.

4. Is it antisemitic even if the target is Israel?

That depends on whether the critique isolates Israel in a way that mirrors antisemitic conspiracies — i.e. attributing disproportionate, demonising, or hidden motives to the Jewish state.

If Israel is depicted not as a flawed country among many, but as a uniquely sinister power, then yes — the gesture begins to traffic in the logic of antisemitism, regardless of the speaker’s intent.

Israel shares a region with states that have insurmountably worse humanitarian records. This does not mean Israel should not be held to account. But it does cause many to question the prejudicial emphasis placed on one state. While Bashar al-Assad, as only one example, was a decade into the killing of 500,000 civilians—unbeknownst and uncriticised by the west—it was Jewish civilian casualties, civilian hostages, the mutilation of bodies, and countless cases of rape that mobilised a force that seems to consider itself a social justice initiative into ‘criticism’ of ‘Israel’/’zionism’.

5. Conclusion

Were Kneecap and Bob Vylan’s performances antisemitic?
They may not have intended to be — but the mode of protest they employed, and the framework behind their conceptions of both the Arab-Israeli Conflict and Jewish right to self-determination (zionism) appear to draw on antisemitic conspiratorial tropes:

• Singling out Israel as uniquely evil

• Casting global silence as evidence of hidden power or manipulation

• Turning a political issue into a moral drama with Jews at its centre

• Calling for the death of the only thing standing in between Israel and her destruction

Their rhetoric and symbolism risk participating in an antisemitic worldview, especially when antisemitism today is less about swastikas and more about narratives of power, silence, and complicity.

The embracing of these narratives by crowds of tens of thousands is a gross indictment on the public’s appreciation of the dynamics at play.

I am not, personally, an advocate for the silencing of artists. If I was, I’d be no better than those conducting zionist witch hunts in the Australian arts.

But the decision to platform potential superspreaders in the midst of a global antisemitism pandemic was not just negligent. It was a symbol of just how misunderstood antisemitism is, and the extent to which those in positions of power would rather lean in on fashion—however harmful it may be—than respond to it.

For those who are as sure as I was, at 22-years-old, that accusations of antisemitism are being weaponised in order to stifle social justice initiatives:

I have absolute faith that one day, many of you who, too, swallowed this fashionable poison will understand. This piece is part of my tireless campaign to continue to do what I can to facilitate that understanding, and to build bridges between realities split along disparate understandings of Jewishness, history, conspiracy, safety, and causality.

If you are reading this, can you please, please take a second to hit the like button. And if you’re feeling extra reasonable, subscribe here. It will make me continuing to do this possible. Follow me on Instagram here.

1. Antisemitism is not ‘racism’.

Here are ten examples of how it plays out in different contexts. Ask yourself how many of these examples of antisemitism would be considered as ‘antisemitism’ if antisemitism was merely racism.

1. The destruction of the Second Temple and Roman expulsion (70–135 CE)

• What happened: After Jewish revolts, the Romans destroyed the Second Temple and expelled Jews from Judea.

• Basis of antisemitism: Tradition/religion
  The Jews were viewed as stubborn monotheists who rejected Roman religious pluralism and imperial authority. Their refusal to worship Roman gods or emperors was seen as subversive.

2. The Christian charge of deicide (starting ~4th century CE)

• What happened: Early Christian theology held that Jews were collectively responsible for the death of Jesus.

• Basis of antisemitism: Tradition/religion
  This was rooted in religious dogma. The belief that Jews had killed God justified centuries of Christian hostility and violence.

3. Medieval blood libels (from ~12th century onwards)

• What happened: Jews were accused of kidnapping and murdering Christian children to use their blood in rituals.

• Basis of antisemitism: Tradition twisted into conspiracy
  This grotesque fantasy perverted Jewish ritual purity laws and dietary customs (which forbid blood) into an imagined secret tradition of murder. It’s conspiratorial more than doctrinal.

4. Expulsion from Spain (1492)

• What happened: Jews were expelled from Spain under the Alhambra Decree unless they converted to Christianity.

• Basis of antisemitism: Tradition/culture (and early racial thinking)
  Conversos (converted Jews) were still distrusted — giving rise to the idea of “limpieza de sangre” (purity of blood), an early form of racialised antisemitism.

5. Pogroms in Eastern Europe (particularly 19th century Russia)

• What happened: Violent riots, often state-sanctioned or tolerated, targeted Jewish communities with murder and destruction.

• Basis of antisemitism: Culture + economic scapegoating
  Jews were often stereotyped as greedy, insular, or disloyal — blamed for economic problems and targeted as a parasitic minority. Cultural difference fed conspiracy.

6. The Dreyfus Affair (France, 1894–1906)

• What happened: A Jewish army officer, Alfred Dreyfus, was falsely accused of treason.

• Basis of antisemitism: Race + loyalty paranoia
  Dreyfus was seen not as a Frenchman, but a Jew. His alleged betrayal was framed not as an individual act, but as part of a deeper Jewish disloyalty — a racialised outsider narrative.

7. Publication of The Protocols of the Elders of Zion (Russia, 1903)

• What happened: A fabricated document claimed to reveal a Jewish plot for global domination.

• Basis of antisemitism: Conspiratorial/racialised antisemitism
  This was not about Jewish religion or tradition, but the idea of Jews as a secret, coordinated global cabal — a hallmark of modern racial-political antisemitism.

8. Nazi antisemitism and the Holocaust (1933–1945)

• What happened: Six million Jews were murdered in a racially motivated genocide.

• Basis of antisemitism: Race (explicitly)
  The Nazis defined Jews as a biological threat to the Aryan race. Conversion, cultural assimilation, or religious practice were irrelevant — Jewishness was treated as a genetic stain.

9. Soviet antisemitism (especially post-WWII under Stalin)

• What happened: Jewish intellectuals, doctors, and artists were purged or persecuted; “rootless cosmopolitans” was a coded term for Jews.

• Basis of antisemitism: Culture + loyalty paranoia
  Jews were accused of being insufficiently Soviet, secretly Zionist, or culturally Western. Stalin’s antisemitism wasn’t religious; it painted Jews as an elite, disloyal fifth column.

10. Anti-Zionism veering into antisemitism in modern leftist and Arab discourse (20th–21st century)

• What happens: Israel is depicted not merely as a flawed state, but as a uniquely evil or illegitimate actor; Jews globally are pressured to answer for it.

• Basis of antisemitism: Conspiratorial + racialised nationalism
  This form of antisemitism often collapses Jewish people, Zionism, and Israel into a single, malign force. It draws on racialised and conspiratorial tropes, often without invoking religion.

Is it any wonder why, after thousands of years of praying “next year in Jerusalem”, that the right to self-determination is so sacred to the Jewish people?

Is it any wonder why threats to that self-determination being articulated as something other than ‘racism’ still constitute the same tired regional—regardless of the region the Jew inhabits—resentment of their presence?

Is it surprising that the Jewish state’s Arab neighbours are not immune to the same thousands of years of antisemitic conspiracy theories?

Is it surprising that the West’s misunderstanding of antisemitism as ‘racism’ hampers their ability to appreciate the antisemitism that both drove Jews into exile, and threatens to drive them into exile once more?

The sympathy being led to those partaking in an antisemitic crusade in the Middle East is a symptom of a misunderstanding of antisemitism, a misunderstanding of all peoples of the region, and a western obsession for atonement through others’ wars.