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On Israel’s 75th Independence Day, its flag has taken on new meaning as a protest symbol
TEL AVIV (JTA) — Avigail Arnheim has been protesting Benjamin Netanyahu for years, starting with the demonstrations in Jerusalem that began in 2020, calling on him to resign as Israel’s prime minister.
When Netanyahu returned to office in December, Arnheim again took to the streets — this time to protest Netanyahu’s attempt to sap the Israeli Supreme Court of its power. And now, she comes armed with what she sees as a potent symbol: an Israeli flag emblazoned with the words of the country’s Declaration of Independence.
“I feel that the people of Israel woke up, and finally understands that life needs to come with values, with morals and with caring,” she said at a mass protest Tuesday night in Tel Aviv, as Israel began celebrating its 75th Independence Day. Arnheim believes those ideas are reflected in the declaration, which was signed on the day of Israel’s founding, traces the connection of the Jewish people to the land of Israel, and pledges democracy and human rights.
She added, “I think that the meaning of the flag has received a place in a society that wasn’t aware of it for a long time.”
Seeing the streets of Israel festooned with flags is one of the hallmarks of the country’s Independence Day, called Yom Haatzmaut in Hebrew. It’s common for flags to line streets and hang from balconies. A popular children’s song sung on the holiday begins, “The whole land is flags.”
But this year, Israel’s quintessential national symbol has taken on a different meaning for some, as the hundreds of thousands of anti-government protesters have, for months, made the flag the icon of their cause. The flag has become so associated with the protests that Zichron Yaakov, a city north of Tel Aviv, briefly banned the flag and images of the Declaration of Independence from its Independence Day parade.
Voices on the right have chafed against the idea that the flag now indicates opposition to the government. But there was little, if any, skepticism about that idea on the streets of Tel Aviv on Tuesday night, where protesters enthusiastically adapted a range of Independence Day traditions to express their opinions.
Thousands of Israeli protesters wave flags during a rally against the Israeli government’s judicial overhaul bills in Jerusalem, March 27, 2023. (Gili Yaari/Flash90)
Some protesters viewed their embrace of the flag as a corrective that now allows the flag to represent what they see as Israel’s founding aspirations, following years during which it was perceived as a symbol of Israel’s right wing. Before this year’s protests, another prominent political association for the flag was with religious nationalists who hold an annual “flag march” in Jerusalem’s Old City that has stoked Israeli-Palestinian tensions.
“It’s a symbol that had been hijacked for way too long by the right,” said Roy Rob, a graphic designer at the Tel Aviv rally who splits his time between Israel and Brooklyn. “It’s the same in the States: The American flag has really been hijacked and pigeonholed.”
Regarding the Israeli flag, he added, “Now it’s being democratized again. It makes sense that the people who really care about the origin of Israel, what Israel is all about, use the original symbols of it.”
Some right-wingers aren’t ready to yield Israel’s national symbols. Gideon Dokov, an editor at the right-leaning newspaper Makor Rishon, called the idea that the flag represents opposition to the judicial overhaul “absurd.”
“By mistake or intentionally, it seems that in recent months, there are those who are trying to take ownership of the national symbols — the flag and the Declaration of Independence — on behalf of the protests, just as they’re trying to take ownership of [the concept of] democracy,” Dokov wrote earlier this month. “Both are incorrect.”
In any case, flags were ubiquitous at Tuesday night’s protest. When asked where they got theirs, several protesters made a perplexed face that seemed to ask, “Where have you been all this time?”
The flags, they said, aren’t hard to get. Many were distributed for free at earlier protests, along with black T-shirts that read, “De-mo-cra-cy” in Hebrew block letters, copying the central chant of the demonstrations. Other shirts, like Rob’s, which read, “There’s no democracy with occupation,” were also distributed by activist groups at earlier protests. Many flags included the phrase “Free in our land,” which comes from Israel’s national anthem.
Others already had flags at home, and some bought them recently. At the protest, a man who was selling the flags and other assorted tchotchkes out of a stuffed shopping cart said the flag itself, without a pole, costs around $5.50. He said he bought his merchandise from stores and was reselling it, but would not provide further details.
A flag vendor stands with his wares during a Yom Haatzmaut celebration and anti-government protest in Tel Aviv, April 25, 2023. (Ben Sales)
The flags with the Declaration of Independence text, Arnheim said, went for about $13.75 and were sold by their creator via group chats used to organize the protests. Nati Hochberg, who traveled from a town north of Tel Aviv to demonstrate, said he bought his flag (with pole) for some $11 at a hardware store, after someone stole a previous flag of his from his motorcycle.
“We’ve taken back what belongs to us,” Hochberg said of the flag. His friend Tal Vardi, who traveled with him and has had his flag for years, added, “This population for many years ceded these symbols and now it’s taking them back. … I don’t know if it happened coincidentally, but it’s a feeling that it also belongs to us.”
That the flag has turned into a protest symbol, said one woman from northern Israel who declined to give her name, elicits a mixture of “pride and sadness” regarding the political conflict raging in the country.
“It’s clearly preferable for this not to be,” she said while holding a flag identical to Arnheim’s. “But if it is like this, at least the flag should have meaning.”
The protesters didn’t shy away from adapting other Independence Day pastimes, either. A white, foamy spray traditionally blasted by children on the holiday was being rebranded at the protest as “democracy snow” (one big can for about $2.75).
At a less crowded area of the protest, someone used the spray to spell out “democracy” in large letters on the ground. On a nearby bicycle path, the word “Leave,” used as a chant against Netanyahu, was also written in the spray. A cyclist stopped short before running it over.
A Tel Aviv protest at the start of Yom Haatzmaut, Israel’s Independence Day, featured a sea of flags, April 25, 2023. (Ben Sales)
Soft plastic hammers, another holiday mainstay, were also visible throughout the crowd. And a DJ blasted classic Israeli dance music in the middle of the demonstration, including the American Jewish summer camp favorite “Zodiac,” sung by Yaron Hadad.
In general, signs of the protests freckle Tel Aviv, which has been the nerve center of the demonstrations and the bastion of Israel’s left-wing minority. Municipal bus stops bear signs playing on the words of the national anthem and implying that the protests will keep Israel “Free from racism,” “Free from repression of women” and more. Graffiti supporting the protests — such as “Bibi is a traitor” — also isn’t hard to find, though there is also a smattering of pro-overhaul graffiti such as one message calling Israel’s Supreme Court a dictatorship.
Some paraphernalia at the demonstration trumpeted specific causes, like an LGBTQ pride flag, a flag that spelled out “democracy” in the colors of the Israeli and Palestinian flags, or a T-shirt, given out by an self-styled “moderate majority” activist group, that read “I [heart] Bagatz,” the Hebrew acronym for the Supreme Court.
Some participants got more creative. At a table in a sparse area, a few people offered free alcohol to passersby while a young man using a megaphone sang “Democracy and arak” to the tune of the famous riff from the White Stripes’ “Seven Nation Army.”
The idea, his colleague Ron said, was to give people free drinks to celebrate the country and the protests — which they hope will preserve the possibility for young people to get an education and find dignified work.
“In general, this is our last shot to save democracy, so everyone who wants to save democracy gets a shot as a gift from us,” said Ron, 23, who declined to give his last name. ”We love everyone, and we love democracy.”
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Israel and the Impossible Standard of Moral Perfection
Jewish visitors gesture as Israeli security forces secure the area at the compound that houses Al-Aqsa Mosque, known to Muslims as Noble Sanctuary and to Jews as Temple Mount, in Jerusalem’s Old City, Photo: May 5, 2022. REUTERS/Ammar Awad
There is a standard applied to Israel that no other nation is expected to meet. It is not a standard of law, nor of morality as commonly understood. It is something far more rigid and far less honest. It demands perfection in the face of existential threats, and even then, it delivers condemnation.
As the conflict with Iran intensifies, Israel finds itself navigating a reality few countries have ever faced.
Iran has made its intentions unmistakably clear for decades. The destruction of Israel is not rhetoric for domestic consumption. It is official Iranian policy. It is repeated openly, consistently, and without apology.
When Iran strikes, it does not distinguish between civilian and military targets. In fact, it purposefully targets civilians. And it doesn’t only target Jews. Rockets do not ask who is religious or secular, Jewish or Muslim, Israeli or Arab. They fall where they are aimed, and often where they are not, with one purpose in mind: to kill, to terrorize, and to destabilize.
Israel, in contrast, is forced to think not only about survival, but about responsibility. This includes responsibility toward all of its citizens: Jewish, Muslim, Christian, Druze. The diversity of Israeli society is often overlooked, but in moments of crisis, it becomes impossible to ignore. Protection must extend to everyone, without exception.
That is why restrictions on public gatherings were imposed. Not as a political statement, but as a practical necessity. In wartime, large crowds are not just gatherings. They are potential mass casualty events waiting for a single missile.
Yet when Israel extended these restrictions during Ramadan, including closing access to major religious sites, the response was immediate outrage. The accusation was predictable: Religious discrimination. Oppression. A supposed targeting of Muslim worshippers.
The reality was different. The restrictions applied across the board. Muslims were not permitted at the Al-Aqsa Mosque. Christians were not permitted at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. Jews were not permitted at the Western Wall or the Mount of Olives. This was not selective enforcement. It was a universal policy driven by security concerns.
But nuance rarely survives in the modern information environment.
Within hours, a simplified narrative took hold. Israel was once again cast as the aggressor, the oppressor, the state that denies religious freedom. The broader context disappeared. The ongoing threat, the indiscriminate nature of incoming attacks, the responsibility to prevent mass casualties, all of it was pushed aside.
Then, almost as if to underline the point, a rocket landed near Jerusalem’s Old City that very same day. It was a stark reminder of what was at stake. Had thousands gathered as they normally would, the consequences could have been devastating.
And yet, even that reality does not shift the narrative.
This is the dilemma Israel faces repeatedly. If it acts to prevent harm, it is accused of repression. If it refrains and harm occurs, it is blamed for negligence. There is no decision that escapes criticism, because the criticism is not rooted in the decision itself. It is rooted in a predetermined judgment against a state run by Jews.
Another example illustrates this pattern with uncomfortable clarity. A toddler was found approaching the Israeli border alone. In any other context, this would be seen for what it is. A child placed in danger, likely as part of a calculated attempt to provoke a reaction.
Israeli soldiers responded not with force, but with care. They ensured the child’s safety, provided food and water, and transferred him to the Red Cross. Evidence showed the child was unharmed at the time of transfer.
Yet the story that followed claimed abuse. Allegations of injuries surfaced, contradicting the available evidence. The facts did not matter. The narrative had already taken shape.
This is not simply misinformation. It is a pattern of interpretation that assumes guilt regardless of evidence.
As Easter approaches, restrictions on religious gatherings once again draw criticism. Clergy voice frustration. Observers condemn the limitations. But the fundamental question remains unanswered: What is the acceptable level of risk? How many lives can be gambled in the name of normalcy?
Israel does not have the luxury of abstract debates. Its decisions carry immediate consequences measured in human lives. That reality forces choices that are imperfect, often unpopular, and always scrutinized.
The tragedy is not only in the conflict itself, but in the inability of much of the world to acknowledge its complexity. Until that changes, Israel will continue to face an impossible standard, one where even its efforts to prevent tragedy are reframed as acts of injustice.
Sabine Sterk is the CEO of Time To Stand Up For Israel.
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Europe’s Left-Wing Is at a Crossroads — And Its Voters Are Walking Away
Anti-Israel demonstrators release smoke in the colors of the Palestinian flag as they protest to condemn the Israeli forces’ interception of some of the vessels of the Global Sumud Flotilla aiming to reach Gaza and break Israel’s naval blockade, in Barcelona, Spain, Oct. 2, 2025. Photo: REUTERS/Nacho Doce
For decades, Europe’s left‑wing parties were the natural home of working‑class families, social reformers, and supporters of egalitarian economics.
Today, however, these parties face a deep identity crisis; many voters no longer know what they represent. Their decline is neither sudden nor mysterious. It stems from their failure to outline a coherent economic alternative, their reluctance to address public concerns over cultural change, and a foreign‑policy shift that alienates moderates and minority communities alike.
Economically, the left has slipped into disarray. Some parties now embrace neoliberal ideas they once opposed, while others offer vague promises disconnected from real policy. With inflation rising, industries shifting, and inequality widening, many working‑class voters feel abandoned. Rather than addressing these issues, left‑wing leaders often focus on internal ideological debates that resonate mainly in urban strongholds.
A similar pattern appears on immigration and cultural identity — central issues in European politics. The left often responds to public concerns not with solutions but with dismissal, treating working‑class worries as reactionary instead of substantive. In countries where leftist parties have merged with centrists, their message has blurred even more, creating space for right‑wing populists eager to fuse economic frustration with cultural fears.
Foreign policy has intensified these divides. After the latest Middle East conflict, parts of the European left adopted an uncompromising pro‑Palestinian stance, often aimed at courting Muslim voters. Legitimate criticism of Israeli policy is one thing, but rhetoric that blames Israelis collectively or echoes historic antisemitic themes is another.
France’s La France Insoumise (LFI), for example, has repeatedly refused to classify Hamas as a terrorist group, fueling what observers describe as a toxic climate. Similar tensions appear in Sweden, where Jewish students report rising hostility, and in Spain, where pro‑Palestinian rallies receive political backing without clear rejection of antisemitic elements.
Even smaller nations face similar issues. In Croatia, descendants of Jewish families whose property was seized under fascist and later communist regimes still encounter heavy bureaucratic barriers when seeking restitution. As Deutsche Welle reporting shows, heirs in Zagreb — governed by the green‑left coalition Možemo! — spend years navigating courts and administrative obstacles, with many properties still unrecovered despite clear historical proof of ownership. These unresolved legal complexities fuel mistrust and reveal how institutional inertia persists.
The left’s challenge is not simply to recover lost voters, but to regain a sense of political purpose. It must craft a credible economic message, engage cultural concerns without contempt, and articulate a foreign policy grounded in principle rather than posturing.
Europe needs parties capable of balancing social justice with social cohesion — and clarity with empathy. Whether the left can meet that challenge will shape the continent’s politics for years to come.
Dr. Vladimir Krulj is a political economist with Franco‑Serbian roots, educated at HEC Paris, King’s College London, and France’s elite École nationale d’administration (ENA). A Fellow at the Institute of Economic Affairs in London, he is known for his unapologetically pro‑market views and his critiques of Europe’s failing economic orthodoxies. He also teaches at ESCP Business School and the University of Tours in France.
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When Democracies Lose the Narrative, They Lose More Than Words
A view of a residential building damaged by a strike, amid the US-Israeli conflict with Iran, in Tehran, Iran, March 23, 2026. Photo: Majid Asgaripour/WANA (West Asia News Agency) via REUTERS
Israel is fighting a war, and being judged in real time by people who are not carrying its risks, don’t face its decisions, and aren’t responsible for its outcomes. The judgment against Israel is not forming slowly. It is forming immediately, and it is shaping what Israel is allowed to do next.
This is where the real shift happens. Public opinion is not a side effect of war. It is becoming one of its constraints.
In the months and years following October 7, 2023, Israel’s internal reality became visible to anyone willing to look. Families of hostages have spoken publicly. Military strategy has been debated in real time.The political leadership has been questioned openly. These are not cracks in the system. They are the system functioning under pressure.
Outside of Israel, those same signals are being interpreted through a different lens. They are not seen as accountability. They are seen as division, not as strength.
At the same time, Israel’s enemies project a consistent message. Their narrative is simple, repeated, and controlled. It travels easily. It feels clear. It leaves little room for visible disagreement.
When public opinion turns, it begins to influence political pressure. Allies become more cautious. Support becomes conditional. The space to act narrows.
This is how a democracy can begin to lose ground outside the battlefield while still fighting effectively within it.
In today’s information environment, visibility does not guarantee understanding. Information is selected, framed, and repeated in ways that shape perception, often reflecting how perception gets manipulated.
At the same time, controlled messaging from the other side removes internal friction from public view. What reaches the outside world is a simplified version of events: Israel as the aggressor, and anyone that tries to attack or threaten it as the heroic underdog.
People are drawn to clarity. A message that is repeated without variation feels reliable. Over time, repetition shapes belief and narrows the range of what people are willing to consider. This pattern reflects how groupthink leads to collective blindness. Once a simplified narrative settles, it becomes resistant to correction, even when it leaves out essential context.
Israel faces an additional layer of scrutiny. As a democracy, it operates within a framework of law and declared ethical standards. Its actions are measured against those standards in real time. Civilian harm is debated openly. Operational decisions are questioned publicly. This is necessary for accountability. It also places the full weight of war in public view, including the reality of acceptable damage in conflict
These discussions are often detached from the conditions in which those decisions are made. They are evaluated without the same exposure to risk, uncertainty, and consequence. The result is a gap between how decisions are made and how they are judged.
That gap is where public opinion shifts.
From a distance, consistency feels stronger than complexity. A controlled narrative feels more stable than an open one. Over time, this creates a reversal in perception. The side that exposes its internal responsibility begins to look uncertain. The side that conceals its internal dynamics begins to look resolved.
When clarity is valued more than accuracy, and repetition carries more weight than context, the advantage moves toward those who control the message, not those who expose the truth.
Israel is not only fighting to defend itself. It is operating within a system that rewards simplicity and penalizes transparency. Ignoring that reality allows others to define the terms of judgment before the outcome is even known.
Public opinion follows what is repeated and understood. Recognizing how that understanding is formed is no longer optional. It is part of the fight itself.
Do something amazing,
Tsahi Shemesh is an Israeli-American IDF veteran and the founder of Krav Maga Experts in NYC. A father and educator, he writes about Jewish identity, resilience, moral courage, and the ethics of strength in a time of rising antisemitism.
