In international relations, consistency is often sacrificed at the altar of strategic interest. Nowhere is this more glaring than in the West’s treatment of Israel. While Western leaders are quick to condemn human rights violations, breaches of international law, and military aggression in most parts of the world, Israel remains a conspicuous exception. The recent conflicts in Gaza, the continued expansion of settlements in the West Bank, and the killing of civilians have drawn sharp criticism from human rights organizations, yet Western governments offer little more than qualified support, often couched in the language of “self-defence.”

Were any other nation to behave in a similar manner, bombing dense civilian areas under the claim of rooting out terrorism, occupying territory for over half a century, or engaging in collective punishment, the outcry from Washington, London, Ottawa, or Berlin would be swift and uncompromising. Yet, in Israel’s case, the pattern is predictable: diplomatic shielding, media reframing, and a reflexive invocation of antisemitism to deflect criticism.

This moral dissonance is not accidental. It is the result of historical, strategic, and political factors that have entrenched Israel’s exceptional status in the Western imagination. Foremost among these is the enduring legacy of the Holocaust. The genocide of six million Jews in Europe left a deep scar on the conscience of Western democracies, particularly Germany and the United States. In the aftermath of World War II, support for the establishment of a Jewish homeland was seen not only as a matter of justice, but of redemption. That sense of obligation persists, even when it conflicts with the principles of international law and universal human rights.

Israel has also embedded itself as a crucial strategic ally in Greater West Asia (GWA). It is a technologically advanced, militarily powerful, and politically stable partner in a region that has long been plagued by authoritarianism and volatility. Intelligence cooperation, arms development, and a shared interest in containing Iran have bound Israel and Western states, especially the United States, into a tightly knit alliance. This alliance, while often described in ideological terms as a partnership of democracies, is grounded in hard power and realpolitik.

Domestic western politics further reinforce this bond. In the United States, support for Israel transcends party lines, bolstered by a powerful pro-Israel lobby led by organizations such as AIPAC. Members of Congress routinely pledge unwavering support, while criticism of Israel can be politically perilous. In Canada, the U.K., and Australia, similar dynamics play out, albeit on a smaller scale. Politicians who speak out against Israeli policies risk being labelled antisemitic or accused of enabling terrorism. This silencing effect extends into media and academia, where critiques of Israeli actions are often met with institutional resistance.

Media framing plays a pivotal role in sustaining public support. Western coverage of conflicts involving Israel is often shaped by narratives of defence and victimhood. Rockets fired by Hamas are headline news; the destruction of entire apartment blocks in Gaza tends to be relegated to the fine print. Palestinian voices are underrepresented or presented through a security lens. When civilian casualties occur, they are regrettable but justifiable; when Israeli lives are lost, they are a tragedy and a rallying cry. This asymmetry in storytelling has a powerful effect on public perception and, by extension, policy.

Underlying all of this is the West’s enduring habit of applying different standards to allies and adversaries. Russia’s invasion of Ukraine has rightly been condemned as a violation of sovereignty, and a threat to international order. Iran’s domestic repression and regional aggression are frequently highlighted in official communiqués. Yet when Israel imposes a blockade on Gaza, builds illegal settlements, or enacts policies that human rights organizations have labeled apartheid, the West remains largely silent. The principle of international law becomes selectively invoked, its moral force diluted by political convenience.

This selective morality undermines the credibility of Western foreign policy. It sends a clear message to the world: rules apply, but not to everyone. For countries in the Global South, this hypocrisy is not lost. It fuels resentment, breeds cynicism, and erodes the legitimacy of institutions meant to uphold international norms. It also weakens the West’s ability to advocate for human rights elsewhere, as its own inconsistencies become fodder for authoritarian propaganda.

None of this is to deny Israel’s right to exist or to defend its citizens from violence, but rights come with responsibilities. The consistent failure of Western governments to hold Israel accountable when it breaches international standards does neither Israel nor the broader international community any favours. In fact, it encourages impunity, hardens divisions, and prolongs a conflict that desperately needs resolution.

A rules-based order cannot survive on exceptions. If the West truly believes in human rights, international law, and the dignity of all peoples, then it must apply those standards universally, without fear, favour, or exception.

References:

• Human Rights Watch. (2021). A Threshold Crossed: Israeli Authorities and the Crimes of Apartheid and Persecution. https://www.hrw.org/report/2021/04/27/threshold-crossed
• Amnesty International. (2022). Israel’s apartheid against Palestinians: a cruel system of domination and a crime against humanity. https://www.amnesty.org/en/documents/mde15/5141/2022/en/
• Mearsheimer, J. & Walt, S. (2007). The Israel Lobby and U.S. Foreign Policy. Farrar, Straus and Giroux.
• Finkelstein, N. (2003). The Holocaust Industry. Verso.
• Pappé, I. (2006). The Ethnic Cleansing of Palestine. Oneworld.