I was asked by Arne Lapidus, a correspondent for the Swedish press in Israel, a question that many observers are now raising with discomfort: how can Israel invite European nationalist and far-right parties – some with deeply troubling histories – to the coming International Conference on Combating Antisemitism – Generation of Truth in Jerusalem?
My first response to him was straightforward and pragmatic. States do not act like NGOs. Israel is not an abstract moral project; it is a sovereign nation-state operating in a hostile environment.
Like all states, it pursues short-term interests, reasons of state, and strategic flexibility. Maintaining contact with political forces that may one day come to power is not an endorsement of their ideology, but a way of preparing for all political scenarios.
There is also a tactical dimension that should not be underestimated. By keeping these movements close, Israel seeks to prevent them from drifting into an increasingly visible trend: the convergence between white supremacism and radical anti-Zionism.
In the US, figures such as Tucker Carlson have illustrated how parts of the nationalist Right can turn sharply against Israel, Jews, and Zionism once Israel no longer fits their narrative. Political isolation often accelerates radicalization; engagement can sometimes act as a constraint.
But this explanation, while accurate, is insufficient. It treats the issue as a short-term calculation. In reality, what we are witnessing reflects a deeper transformation in the political and ideological landscape of Europe.
Growing number of European nationalists see their nation as under threat
Those who interpret Israel’s outreach as a cynical alliance against a common Islamist enemy miss the broader picture. A growing number of European nationalist movements now perceive themselves as nations under existential threat.
They speak the language of demographic anxiety, cultural survival, and historical continuity. In this sense, they increasingly see Israel not merely as a tactical partner, but as a mirror: a nation that has lived since its birth under constant pressure, forced to defend its borders, its identity, and its future.
This perception resonates with an older, often forgotten dimension of European antisemitism. Historically, antisemitism was not always rooted in racial hatred alone. In many cases, it stemmed from the suspicion that Jews did not truly belong to the nation – that they were outsiders, insufficiently invested in the collective destiny. This idea of non-belonging fueled exclusion long before it was racialized.
Interestingly, this narrative was partially disrupted during the world wars, when Jewish participation in national armies and sacrifices for their countries became undeniable. Even some antisemites were forced to acknowledge that the argument of non-participation was false.
Hatred did not disappear, but its justifications shifted.
Today, a comparable shift is taking place–this time not regarding Jews within Europe, but regarding Israel as a nation. Certain nationalist movements no longer view Israel through a purely ideological or theological lens. They see it as a concrete example of a people asserting the right to exist, to defend itself, and to project itself into the future despite constant hostility.
This identification does not stem from love of Jews; it stems from self-recognition.
This is where the situation becomes morally and strategically ambiguous. On the one hand, Israel may benefit from this identification in the short term: diplomatic support, rhetorical backing, and shared opposition to radical Islamism. On the other hand, history teaches Jews to be cautious when admiration is conditional and instrumental.
Many of these movements continue to display hostility toward Jewish minorities in their own countries. Their support for Israel is often externalized: Israel is admired as a strong nation abroad, while Jews at home remain suspect. This contradiction is not new, and it should not be ignored.
Moreover, alliances built on a shared sense of siege can shift rapidly. When political winds change, yesterday’s ally can become tomorrow’s scapegoat. A movement that defines itself through identity preservation may ultimately decide that Jews – anywhere – are incompatible with that identity.
Israel, therefore, walks a narrow line. Engagement may be strategically necessary, but it carries long-term risks for Jewish communities in the Diaspora and for Israel’s moral standing. Tactical dialogue must not become ideological validation. Political realism must be tempered by historical memory.
The real question is not whether Israel can afford to speak to these movements. It is whether it can do so without confusing necessity with trust, pragmatism with endorsement, and short-term security with the long-term destiny of the Jewish people.
The writer is a Senior Fellow at the Jewish People Policy Institute (JPPI), overseeing the Institute’s European activities.