What happens when Israel’s political priorities clash with those of Jewish communities abroad? The backlash over Israel’s International Conference on Combating Antisemitism is a case study in this growing divide.
While Israel is focused on securing international allies—sometimes from unexpected corners—many Jewish leaders, particularly in Europe, remain deeply uncomfortable with the inclusion of far Right politicians.
The result? A controversy that has led to high-profile withdrawals, heated debates, and a stark reminder that the Jewish world is far from unified in its approach to combating antisemitism.
At the center of this divide is a growing divergence in priorities. Israel needs as much global support as possible, especially as antisemitism surges worldwide.
This has led some Israeli officials to embrace leaders long considered off-limits by Jewish communities abroad—figures such as Geert Wilders in the Netherlands, an outspoken supporter of Israel who has yet to be deemed "kosher" in the eyes of many European Jews.
In contrast, Argentina’s Javier Milei, another far Right leader, has been warmly welcomed by Israel due to his strong pro-Israel stance.
Jewish communities in Europe, however, see things differently. Many still associate far-right politics with the specter of Holocaust denial, xenophobia, and antisemitism—even when some of these politicians claim to have reformed.
Marine Le Pen, for instance, expelled her father from the party he founded and acknowledged its troubling past, yet remains deeply controversial among French Jews.
However, following October 7, she and National Rally President Jordan Bardella personally participated in a Paris march against antisemitism, marking a significant shift in the far-right’s stance on Jewish issues in France (BBC, November 12, 2023). Meanwhile, French President Emmanuel Macron did not attend.
This tension has come to a head over the conference organized by Diaspora Affairs Minister Amichai Chikli, which has drawn criticism from Jewish leaders worldwide due to the inclusion of far-right European politicians such as Bardella, Marion Maréchal, and Hermann Tertsch.
The backlash has been swift, with UK Chief Rabbi Ephraim Mirvis, German antisemitism czar Felix Klein, British antisemitism adviser Lord John Mann, and French philosopher Bernard-Henri Lévy all withdrawing their participation.
"UK Chief Rabbi Ephraim Mirvis withdrew from the conference after learning about some of the participants, his office confirmed," though no explicit reason was given for his withdrawal.
The age-old divide between Israel and the Diaspora
This debate is not new. The tension between Jewish leadership in Israel and in the Diaspora has existed since ancient times. During the period of the Talmud, there was constant friction between the sages of Eretz Yisrael and those in Babylon—the great Jewish center of learning in exile.
The Jerusalem Talmud (Sanhedrin 3:5) records an exchange where Babylonian scholars sent halachic questions to Israel’s sages, but then refused to follow their rulings.
"They (the Babylonians) send us questions and we answer them, but they do not abide by our rulings."
This sounds familiar. Israel asks diaspora Jews what they think about meeting with far Right political figures, but don't listen to their answers. Israel decides based on its own immediate needs, while Jewish communities abroad feel alienated or disregarded when they disagree.
The Talmud (Kiddushin 49b) goes even further, describing how Israelis mocked Babylonians as “foolish” for their different customs and way of thinking.
"Those from Eretz Yisrael call the Babylonians 'foolish Babylonians,' for they sit in darkness."
There was always a cultural and ideological gap between the Jews in the Land of Israel and those in the Diaspora. Back then, it was about Torah interpretation and halachic authority. Today, it’s about who defines the Jewish political agenda—and with whom Israel should engage to ensure its survival.
Why are far-right figures dominating the conference?
Sources close to the Diaspora Affairs Ministry told me on Monday that it had invited several leaders from left-wing political parties, as well as left-wing thought leaders, but few accepted the invitation.
Now, with increasing pressure on center and center-left figures to also withdraw, the conference lineup is overwhelmingly right-wing or center-right.
At the same time, I have learned that members of extreme-right parties across Europe approached the ministry seeking to participate.
According to Israeli officials, the ministry only allowed the participation of figures approved by the Israeli Foreign Ministry and Foreign Minister Gideon Sa’ar.
This means that these invitations were not random but aligned with Israel’s broader foreign policy interests.
The deeper problem is that antisemitism has become a political tool—used by both the right and the left to serve their own agendas.
MK Gilad Kariv (Democrats), who has urged the government to rescind invitations to far Right politicians, wrote to Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and Foreign Minister Gideon Sa’ar that this move represents a “deviation from longstanding Israeli policy” and contradicts the positions of representative Jewish organizations worldwide.
"The invitation of these representatives is particularly jarring given that this concerns an international conference on combating antisemitism, which is supposed to be conducted under the auspices of the president of the state and the prime minister," Kariv stated.
However, while these objections are understandable, Israel faces a different political reality. Many of its traditional allies on the European left have distanced themselves from the Jewish state, leaving Israel to seek support elsewhere. The question remains: If the left refuses to stand with Israel, should Israel ignore the right?
Boycotts and cancellations do not advance dialogue
This situation reflects a broader trend in global politics—the rise of ideological purity tests that leave no room for dialogue.
The idea that some voices must be completely excluded from conversation—rather than engaged with critically—has led to polarization and political stagnation.
Israel is in a difficult position. It cannot afford to ignore any potential allies, yet it must also respect the concerns of Jewish communities abroad.
In Jewish tradition, debate and argument are core values—as seen in the Beit Midrash, where conflicting views are explored and challenged. It is unfortunate that, rather than fostering dialogue, many have resorted to boycotts and cancellations.
If Israel is to navigate this complex global landscape, it must find a way to engage with political leaders—including those from difficult pasts—without compromising its moral clarity.
This is a delicate balancing act, and only time will tell whether Chikli’s approach was the right one. But what is already clear is that the conference is off to a bad start—one that exposes deep rifts between Israel and the Jewish world rather than healing them.
