Zionism is Fundamentalism: The Problem of Historical Entitlement

The Problem of Divine Entitlement

Among the many arguments advanced to justify territorial sovereignty, few are as philosophically difficult as the claim that land belongs to a particular people because God promised it to their ancestors. Such a claim may carry profound religious significance. It may sustain cultural identity across generations, preserve collective memory and provide spiritual meaning to communities separated from their ancestral homeland. But what happens when this religious conviction becomes the basis of political action? What happens when the promise of land, recorded in sacred scripture, is invoked to justify settlement, annexation or the political subordination of populations who do not share that belief? This is the central philosophical problem raised by religious Zionism, particularly those expressions that interpret Jewish sovereignty over the biblical Land of Israel as a divine obligation. The problem is not unique to Judaism or Zionism. It concerns every political movement that attempts to transform supernatural authority into an entitlement enforceable against other human beings.

A belief may be sacred without being universally binding. It may be sincerely held without being independently verifiable. And it may provide moral guidance to its adherents without establishing legitimate political authority over those outside the faith. The critical distinction is between religious conviction as a source of personal or collective meaning and religious conviction as a justification for political domination. Fundamentalism becomes politically dangerous when that distinction disappears.

What Makes a Belief Fundamentalist?

Fundamentalism is frequently associated with religious conservatism, literal interpretations of scripture or resistance to modernity. But these characteristics alone do not fully explain its political consequences. A more useful distinction concerns the status granted to particular beliefs. When an ideological movement treats its foundational convictions as beyond legitimate challenge, and regards those convictions as superior to the competing rights of others, it exhibits a form of absolutism commonly associated with political fundamentalism. In religious nationalism, this absolutism may become especially consequential. Territory is no longer merely a place of historical attachment, cultural belonging or strategic significance. It becomes sacred property, supposedly assigned by an authority beyond human judgment. Political compromise can then be interpreted as moral surrender. Territorial withdrawal may become religious betrayal. The rights of other populations may be subordinated to the fulfilment of a sacred narrative. This creates a fundamental contradiction between divine entitlement and political equality.

If one community’s religious convictions determine the legitimate ownership of land, why should another community, with different religious convictions, be required to accept that conclusion? And if competing communities invoke incompatible divine promises, what common standard can resolve their claims? A political system cannot adjudicate such disagreements simply by declaring one theology authoritative. It must appeal to principles that can be considered independently of religious affiliation: human rights, consent, security, equality and self-determination.

The Historical Question: How Long Did Ancient Jewish States Rule?

The religious argument is frequently accompanied by a historical one: Jewish people governed the land in antiquity and therefore possess an enduring political claim to it. The historical connection is real. The inference from ancient sovereignty to perpetual ownership, however, requires separate examination. The ancient political history of Palestine is complex, involving numerous kingdoms, empires, communities and changing territorial boundaries. The united monarchy traditionally associated with David and Solomon is commonly dated to approximately 1000–930 BCE, a period of roughly 70 years. Its precise extent and political organisation remain subjects of scholarly debate. Following the traditional division of this monarchy, two kingdoms emerged: the northern Kingdom of Israel and the southern Kingdom of Judah. The northern kingdom survived until approximately 722 BCE, while Judah continued until the Babylonian conquest of Jerusalem in 586 BCE. Using conventional dates, the southern kingdom existed for approximately 344 years after the division. Centuries later, the Hasmonean dynasty established Jewish political autonomy and, subsequently, independence during the second century BCE. Its period of rule from approximately 143 to 63 BCE lasted around 80 years, although its degree of independence varied. These dates require careful interpretation. The northern and southern kingdoms existed concurrently and cannot simply be added together as successive periods of unified sovereignty. Nor did their territories correspond to the modern boundaries of Israel and Palestine. Using the traditional united monarchy, the subsequent Kingdom of Judah and the broad Hasmonean period gives approximately 494 years of Jewish-ruled statehood across distinct periods and changing territories.

This is, of course, an illustrative chronology, not a precise measure of sovereignty over the entire region. Moreover, Jewish presence in the land did not begin or end with these kingdoms. Communities continued to exist through subsequent periods of foreign rule. The historical record therefore establishes an enduring Jewish connection to the territory, including periods of statehood. But what does that connection establish politically? Does sovereignty exercised two or three thousand years ago confer a permanent right to rule the same territory today?

The Problem of Historical Consistency

Consider the Ottoman Empire, which governed Palestine for approximately four centuries, from 1517 until the British conquest of 1917–18. Would this historical sovereignty entitle modern Turkey to reclaim Palestine? Rome governed much of Britain from the first to the early fifth century CE. Does this provide modern Italy with a territorial claim to Britain? The Mongol Yuan dynasty ruled China from 1271 to 1368. Does that establish a contemporary Mongolian entitlement to Chinese sovereignty? Britain governed India through imperial institutions, including nearly nine decades of direct Crown rule. Few would argue that this history grants modern Britain an enduring right to political authority over India. These comparisons are imperfect. Ancient Jewish statehood, imperial conquest, modern nationhood and colonial administration are not equivalent historical phenomena. Nevertheless, the comparisons test a common proposition: whether previous political control is sufficient to establish a perpetual right to sovereignty. If the answer is no in other historical contexts, additional arguments are necessary to explain why it should be yes in this one.

There is also an important difference between a people’s enduring connection to its homeland and a former empire’s claim to territories it conquered. Jewish identity, history and religious tradition developed in relation to the land itself. That connection cannot reasonably be reduced to an episode of imperial rule. Yet acknowledging the distinction does not resolve the question of exclusive political entitlement. Historical belonging may justify cultural recognition, residence, collective memory and claims to self-determination. It does not automatically establish the right to deny another population those same possibilities. A territory can be the historical homeland of more than one people.

Can Secular Zionism Stand Independently of Religion?

Modern political Zionism emerged in the nineteenth century, shaped by European nationalism, antisemitism, Jewish persecution and debates about assimilation and collective survival. Many influential Zionists were secular. Some regarded traditional religious passivity as an obstacle to Jewish national renewal. It would therefore be historically inaccurate to describe secular Zionism simply as religious fundamentalism disguised in political language. Its central arguments can be expressed without reference to God: Jews constitute a people or nation; they have experienced sustained persecution; national self-determination may provide security; and their historical and cultural relationship with the land makes it a significant location for national revival. These arguments are distinct from the claim that God granted the territory to the Jewish people. But distinguishing the arguments does not settle their legitimacy. The philosophical challenge is to determine how a claim to national self-determination can be reconciled with the self-determination of another people already inhabiting the same territory. National self-determination is not identical to exclusive territorial ownership. A people may possess legitimate national aspirations without acquiring an unlimited right to determine the political status of everyone living in its proposed homeland. This distinction matters especially in Palestine, where Jewish and Palestinian national movements developed competing claims to the same territory. 

The problem is not solved by establishing which population has the older connection or which political community once exercised sovereignty. A contest of historical priority does not itself produce a just political settlement. There is also a subtler philosophical possibility: secular nationalist narratives can sometimes acquire the structure of religious absolutes. An ancestral homeland may be treated as an unquestionable entitlement. Historical destiny may replace divine command, while the claim to exclusive political authority remains similarly resistant to challenge. This does not mean secular nationalism is necessarily fundamentalist. It means secular movements, like religious ones, can become dogmatic when their foundational claims are insulated from moral scrutiny. The appropriate test is not whether a political movement invokes God. It is whether its claims remain accountable to the rights of others.

From Historical Attachment to Political Legitimacy

The distinction between historical connection and legitimate sovereignty becomes clearer when considered through political philosophy. John Locke’s account of political authority places considerable emphasis on natural rights and consent. Whatever its limitations, the Lockean tradition challenges the idea that political authority can be justified merely by inheritance or sacred status. Immanuel Kant’s political philosophy similarly offers a framework in which legitimate public authority must be understood through principles of right rather than private conviction. John Rawls later developed the idea that political principles in a pluralistic society should be justifiable through reasons that citizens holding different comprehensive religious and philosophical doctrines can reasonably consider. These thinkers did not formulate their arguments specifically for the Israeli–Palestinian conflict, and their theories differ substantially. Yet their work raises a common question: how can political authority be justified to those subject to it?

A divine promise may answer that question for believers who accept the relevant scripture. It cannot, without further argument, answer it for those who do not. Historical sovereignty faces a related difficulty. A claim that one’s ancestors governed a territory does not establish that its present inhabitants have consented to the same political arrangement. Nor does a historical connection automatically determine which contemporary political institutions should exercise authority. This distinction is not merely philosophical. It is reflected in modern international law. In its July 2024 advisory opinion, the International Court of Justice concluded that Israel’s continued presence in the Occupied Palestinian Territory was unlawful. The Court emphasised the prohibition on acquiring territory by force and the Palestinian people’s right to self-determination. The opinion concerned Israel’s occupation and associated policies, not a general determination that Jewish national self-determination lacks legitimacy. That distinction is essential. The legal and moral status of Israel’s existing population, its security and its internationally recognised rights must not be confused with the legitimacy of particular territorial claims beyond its borders. Equally, Palestinian rights cannot be made conditional upon accepting a religious or historical interpretation advanced by another community. The philosophical principle is straightforward: legitimate political authority must be capable of justification without requiring those governed to surrender their fundamental rights.

The Problem of Selective Fundamentalism

Religious fundamentalism is often discussed as though it were primarily a characteristic of particular religions or societies. In Western political discourse, Islamist fundamentalism receives substantial attention, especially when associated with political violence. Yet the underlying mechanisms of religious absolutism can also be found in other traditions. Christian nationalism can portray political institutions as instruments of divine purpose. Hindu nationalism can invoke sacred geography and religious identity in defining national belonging. Islamist movements can seek political systems organised around particular interpretations of divine law. Certain religious Zionist movements similarly understand territorial sovereignty as an expression of sacred obligation. These movements differ in their histories, doctrines, institutions and practices. They should not be treated as interchangeable. Nevertheless, the shared philosophical concern is the transformation of religious authority into a political claim that overrides the equal rights of others. A consistent critique must therefore evaluate the claims and conduct of each movement according to the same principles. The issue is not the religious identity of those advancing the claim. It is whether their political reasoning allows people outside the faith to retain equal standing.

A Hegelian Interpretation: When Fundamentalism Produces Its Opposition

The relationship between competing forms of fundamentalism introduces another philosophical dimension. G. W. F. Hegel’s dialectical philosophy offers a way of thinking about how opposing ideas and social formations develop through their contradictions. Hegel’s method is often simplified into the formula of thesis, antithesis and synthesis, although this formula does not adequately represent the complexity of his philosophical system. The more relevant insight is that an apparently stable position may contain tensions that become visible through its confrontation with opposing positions. Applied cautiously to political ideology, this suggests that antagonistic movements can shape one another. A religious-nationalist movement claiming sacred entitlement to territory may strengthen an opposing movement that frames resistance through equally absolute religious language. Each can point to the other’s conduct as evidence that coexistence is impossible. Each can portray compromise as betrayal. Each can interpret the conflict as confirmation of a larger religious struggle. Within the Israeli–Palestinian conflict, certain forms of religious Zionism and Islamist fundamentalism may participate in this mutually reinforcing relationship. This does not establish that Islamist fundamentalism was created by Zionism.

Modern Islamist movements developed through multiple historical processes, including colonialism, religious reform, authoritarianism and resistance to Western political influence. The Muslim Brotherhood, for example, emerged in Egypt in 1928 with concerns extending well beyond Palestine. Nor does this analysis imply that violence by one movement excuses violence by another. Rather, the argument concerns the reproduction of ideological absolutism through sustained conflict. Occupation, dispossession, attacks on civilians, political repression and religiously framed territorial claims can become material through which extremist organisations construct narratives of existential confrontation. The existence of an uncompromising adversary can become politically useful to another uncompromising movement. Moderates may then be portrayed as naive, negotiations as futile and peaceful coexistence as impossible.

In this sense, fundamentalism can help sustain its apparent opposite. The relationship is not necessarily symmetrical. The parties differ in political power, military capacity, institutional status and legal obligations. A dialectical analysis should examine those differences rather than obscure them. Nevertheless, the possibility of mutual ideological reinforcement deserves serious consideration.

Beyond the Dialectic of Absolutism

If opposing fundamentalist movements can reinforce one another, what might interrupt the process? A superficial interpretation of dialectics would suggest that one position simply produces its opposite, followed by a compromise between them. Hegel’s philosophy offers a more sophisticated possibility through the concept of Aufhebung, commonly translated as sublation: a process in which opposing positions are both overcome and, in certain respects, preserved within a more comprehensive understanding. Applied metaphorically to the Israeli–Palestinian conflict, such a transformation would not require Jewish or Palestinian identities to disappear. Nor would it require either population to abandon its historical connection, religious traditions or aspirations to collective security. What would need to be overcome is the assumption that one group’s connection necessarily invalidates the other’s. Historical attachment could be preserved without becoming exclusive ownership. Religious significance could be recognised without becoming binding political authority. National self-determination could be pursued without denying the equivalent rights of another people. This is not a prediction that history will inevitably produce reconciliation. 

Hegelian dialectics cannot substitute for political institutions, legal accountability or concrete agreements. Nor would recognising fundamentalist tendencies within religious Zionism automatically eliminate Islamist fundamentalism. Such movements have independent ideological, institutional and historical foundations. But consistent recognition of religious absolutism, combined with meaningful protection of rights, could help challenge the narratives that sustain antagonism.

The broader lesson extends far beyond Palestine. Religious and national identities are enduring features of human society. They provide meaning, continuity and belonging. The difficulty arises when belonging is converted into superiority, when historical memory becomes exclusive entitlement, and when sacred conviction is used to determine the rights of those who do not share it.

Conclusion: The Limits of Sacred Ownership

The central question is not whether Jewish people have a historical connection to the land of Israel and Palestine. That connection is extensively documented. Nor is it whether Palestinians possess their own historical connection and legitimate national aspirations. The question is whether either people can claim an exclusive right to political authority through divine promise, ancient sovereignty or historical priority alone. Religious conviction cannot establish universally binding territorial ownership. Ancient sovereignty cannot automatically establish perpetual political entitlement. And national self-determination cannot be understood as an unlimited right to subordinate another population. These principles do not settle every difficult question about borders, political institutions, security or competing national aspirations. They do, however, establish a common standard against which proposed solutions can be evaluated.

The deeper danger of fundamentalism is not merely that it produces uncompromising beliefs. It is that, when translated into political domination, it can generate the conditions in which opposing forms of absolutism become more attractive. Each movement may come to depend upon the other’s extremism for the apparent legitimacy of its own. Escaping this relationship requires more than condemning one side’s fundamentalism while overlooking the other’s. It requires the consistent rejection of religious entitlement as a substitute for political justice. A land can be sacred to more than one people. A history can be shared without being identical. And a people’s right to security need not depend upon another people’s subordination.

The antidote to fundamentalism is not another fundamentalism, but a political order in which no one’s rights depend on accepting someone else’s God.