How ‘The IDF’ and ‘The Settlers’ Became Weapons Against Israel

Victor Satya | TOI Blogs | May 9, 2026

Some nations are judged by their laws. Israel is judged by its headlines. One Israeli commits a crime, and suddenly millions stand accused under the convenient vocabulary of “the IDF,” “the settlers,” and “the Israelis”, because collective guilt, it seems, only became fashionable again when Jews were involved.

A Mexican cartel member commits murder and nobody concludes that extortion is embedded in the Mexican soul.
A British soldier commits a war crime and sane people do not suddenly discover that brutality is encoded into the DNA of the British Army.

But let an Israeli somewhere say something idiotic, do something criminal, or behave disgracefully, and suddenly half the Western world begins speaking in mystical collectivist poetry:

“The IDF.”
“The settlers.”
“The Israelis.”
“The Zionists.”

Curiously, the people most allergic to generalization become extraordinarily enthusiastic about it the moment Jews are involved. The moment these bigots are challenged on their anti-Semitism, they retreat behind the same fashionable shield: “I’m only criticizing Israel.”

And of course, criticism of Israel is entirely legitimate. Israelis criticize Israel more passionately before breakfast than most activists manage in an entire career. Israel is a democracy. Governments are criticized. Ministers are criticized. Armies are criticized. That is normal.

The problem is that many people are not criticizing Israel at all. They are prosecuting Jews through the convenient vehicle of Israel. There is a difference between criticizing a policy and pathologizing an entire society. There is a difference between condemning a criminal act and transforming that act into evidence that the Jewish state itself is uniquely monstrous. But this distinction mysteriously evaporates when Israel is involved.

In every other civilized context, we instinctively understand that individuals commit crimes while nations remain nations. A British soldier accused of abuse in Afghanistan is treated as a soldier accused of abuse. The entire British Army is not rebranded as a satanic institution. When riots erupt in Paris, we are not subjected to essays about the inherent savagery of French civilization.

One Israeli commits a crime and millions become morally implicated by association. One soldier behaves disgracefully and suddenly “the IDF” becomes the villain of the century.

And the language is never accidental.

Notice how carefully the rhetoric is designed. We are almost never told that a particular soldier committed misconduct. Instead, we hear that “the IDF” did something. Not a person. Not an individual. An entire institution. Likewise with “the settlers.” A handful of extremists commit reprehensible acts and immediately hundreds of thousands of people are transformed into a single undifferentiated demographic villain. It is linguistic collectivism masquerading as journalism.

And then comes “the Israeli government,” perhaps the most elastic phrase in modern political discourse. One minister says something foolish, as ministers frequently do in literally every democracy on earth, and suddenly the statement is treated as sacred doctrine binding upon the entire state of Israel itself.

The point is never precision. Precision would ruin the propaganda.

Because once precision enters the conversation, the entire performance begins to collapse. If wrongdoing is acknowledged as individual wrongdoing, then Israel ceases to appear uniquely evil and starts looking uncomfortably normal, which is intolerable to those emotionally invested in portraying it as humanity’s final boss.

Take the recent incident in South Lebanon involving the crucifix statue. A photo circulated online showing an IDF soldier striking the head of a crucified Jesus figure that had fallen from its cross. The footage spread rapidly. Predictably, outrage exploded across social media and international commentary. The act was instantly marketed not as the misconduct of one soldier, but as evidence of Israeli hatred, Israeli barbarism, Israeli contempt for Christianity.

What happened next, however, was less interesting to the outrage merchants.

The soldier responsible was removed from combat duty and sentenced to military detention. Another soldier involved in filming the act was also punished. In short, disciplinary action followed. Israel did precisely what functional societies are supposed to do: investigate misconduct and punish offenders.

But by then the outrage had already packed its suitcase and gone touring the world.

Because accountability ruins the narrative. If Israel disciplines wrongdoing, then the caricature becomes harder to sustain. The international feeding frenzy depends on presenting every Israeli offense not as an aberration, but as revelation, a glimpse into the supposedly rotten soul of the Jewish state itself.

And nowhere is this rhetorical industry more obvious than in Judea and Samaria, or as the international community insists on calling it with almost liturgical reverence, “the West Bank.”

When individual Israelis commit violence there, headlines instantly speak of “settler violence,” as though the entire civilian population were a single ideological organism. Yet when Israelis are attacked, language suddenly becomes passive and evasive. Israelis do not get murdered by terrorists; they “die in clashes.” Violence against Jews becomes weather. Violence by Jews becomes anthropology.

And after enough repetition, the framing begins to harden into assumed truth. “The settlers” become inherently violent. “The IDF” becomes inherently oppressive. “Israelis” become inherently racist. This obsession reveals something deeper and older than mere political disagreement.

Israel is not treated internationally like a normal country because Jews historically have never been treated like a normal people. The Jew was always transformed into a collective symbol onto which societies projected their anxieties, frustrations, and moral fantasies. Israel today functions similarly, the Jew among nations. Every flaw becomes cosmic. Every mistake becomes civilizational. Every crime becomes theological.

The old anti-Semite accused Jews of poisoning wells. The modern one does it with podcasts, NGO reports, and hashtags about “decolonization.” The vocabulary changed. The instinct survived. And this is why the endless disclaimer, “I’m only criticizing Israel”, has become so unconvincing. Not because criticism itself is illegitimate, but because the standards applied to Israel are so visibly detached from the standards applied to literally everyone else.

Israelis are not angels. Soldiers can commit crimes. Politicians can say disgraceful things. Extremists exist in Israel exactly as they exist in Britain, America, France, Pakistan, Mexico, and every other country inhabited by flawed human beings.

One cannot endlessly generalize Jews, Israelis, “settlers,” and “the IDF,” then act shocked when people notice the pattern. If your criticism of Israel requires standards you would never apply to Britain, America, France, or literally anyone else, then perhaps what you hate is not policy.