Yuval Noah Harari is one of Israel’s most celebrated intellectuals, a historian whose books have become international bestsellers. His first major work, Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind (2011), based on his lectures to undergraduates at the Hebrew University, catapulted him to global fame. Harari is admired worldwide as a public thinker who claims to see the long arc of history with unusual clarity.
But in the wake of October 7, Harari has turned his penetrating gaze against Israel itself. In a recent panel discussion, he dramatically declared: “What is happening now in Israel has the potential to undo two thousand years of Jewish thought, culture, and existence. This is the worst-case scenario… If Israel continues on its present trajectory, the danger is clear: we may see an ethnic cleansing campaign in Gaza and the West Bank, the expulsion of millions of Palestinians, the disintegration of Israeli democracy, and the rise of a new Israel built on an ideology of Jewish supremacy.”
These are grave accusations. Harari is not critiquing policy or military strategy. In his telling, Israel’s war in Gaza is so evil, it threatens to unravel Judaism at its core. He claims Israel is abandoning the values of Judaism itself.
Is Harari right? Is Israel guilty of a great moral evil by seeking to remove the Gazan population that put Hamas in power and continues to seek our destruction?
Back in the 1980s, when Israel first fought Hezbollah terrorists in Lebanon, the historian David Biale argued that Jewish sovereignty itself was a danger. In his book Power and Powerlessness in Jewish History, he claimed that exile gave the Jewish people moral stability, while political power led to corruption and disaster. In other words, weakness was our safeguard, strength our undoing.
Biale extends this logic to history itself: he writes that “Ultimately, the victory of the Hasmoneans led to the destruction of the Temple itself,” while “The failure of the revolt against the Romans ultimately led to greater stability and greater Jewish power.” By “stability,” he means governance under foreign rule, and by framing it this way, he elevates exile as the ideal political condition, claiming self-rule brings only anxiety and danger.
Biale’s framing was seductive because it allowed Jews in exile to imagine that their condition was not only unavoidable but virtuous. If power corrupts, then powerlessness can be recast as purity. But that flips the Bible on its head. The Torah, the Prophets, and the Writings all insist that the Jewish people are meant to live as a nation in their land, and that strength is necessary for survival. Sovereignty is not a curse – it is a fulfillment of God’s promise.
Seen this way, Harari is not innovating but recycling Biale’s logic. He, too, dresses up fear of Jewish power as Jewish morality. But the Bible says the opposite: survival in our land depends on strength:
The meaning is not complicated. When God gives Israel the land, the hostile nations must be removed. Their cities and their houses become ours. There is no romanticism about living side by side with people committed to your destruction.
Rashi notes that the Torah calls them enemies, not brothers. And then he explains: “These are not your brothers, for if you fall into their hands, they will not have pity on you.” That distinction is the whole point. Brothers may quarrel, but they remain brothers. Enemies seek your destruction. To blur the line between the two is suicide.
Rashi is even sharper on verse 12:
He writes: “If you let it be and go away, [this city] will ultimately wage war against you. You shall besiege it. Even to starve it out, and cause them to die of thirst, and to kill the inhabitants of the city through diseases.”
It doesn’t get clearer than this. Leaving sworn enemies in place, under the illusion of mercy, only guarantees future bloodshed.
The Bible does not apologize for Jewish power. It praises it when it is used to protect Israel. In II Samuel chapter 8, David fights battle after battle against enemies bent on Israel’s destruction. The summary is simple: “And the Lord gave victory to David wherever he went” (II Samuel 8:14). The Bible explicitly states that G-d approved of David’s campaigns. Power, in this case, was not corruption. It was justice.
During exile, Jews did not attempt to remove their enemies. How could they? They had no sovereignty. Powerlessness was not an ethical choice, it was forced on us. But now, thank God, we have returned to our land. We have the ability – and the obligation – to defend Jewish life. To cling to the mindset of exile in a time of sovereignty is a betrayal of the Bible itself.
Harari’s mistake is that he confuses weakness with morality. He cannot imagine Judaism as strong, sovereign, and victorious. But the Bible never glorifies weakness. The Psalms praise God who “avenges the spilled blood of His servants” and “destroys enemies.” The prophets envisioned a time when Israel would live securely in its land. Justice, not surrender, is the Jewish calling.
Jewish nationhood and morality are not opposites. Jewish morality requires Jewish power. Without power, there is no justice and no survival. When Israel uses its strength to defend itself against barbarism, that strength is not a disgrace. It is holy. Harari calls this a moral disaster. In truth, what he offers is a recipe for national suicide.
Yuval Noah Harari is a brilliant fool. Brilliant in analysis, a fool in judgment. He longs for the Judaism of exile – weak, dependent, and “safe” from moral responsibility. But the Bible commands something else. Be strong. Defend the nation. Remove the enemy. Build a country that can last.
Harari’s way leads back to exile and death. The Bible’s way leads to life.
