At the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington, a poignant encounter underscores the enduring challenges facing Israel and the Jewish people. When Rabbi Sinai Adler, a Holocaust survivor, visited the museum, he confronted a stark admission: the U.S. government had consciously chosen not to disrupt the Auschwitz extermination process despite having the means to do so. A War Department letter and reconnaissance photographs of the camp, taken shortly after Rabbi Adler’s imprisonment there, serve as a lasting testament to this decision.

This moment reflects a broader historical lesson drawn from Rabbi Adler’s deep engagement with Jewish texts and history. He often referenced a Talmudic teaching that "Esau hates Jacob," interpreting it as a sobering recognition that Jews have long faced persecution from non-Jewish populations. This view suggests antisemitism remains a persistent baseline rather than a temporary aberration.

In recent years, especially following the October 7 massacre, some have argued that Israel’s diplomatic and public relations efforts—its “hasbara”—could restore international goodwill and support. However, this perspective encounters skepticism grounded in historical patterns. While Israel enjoyed considerable backing from Western nations for much of its first seven decades, this support was never uniform or unconditional. Notable exceptions included U.S. President Dwight D. Eisenhower’s opposition during the 1956 Sinai campaign and French arms embargoes ahead of the 1967 Six-Day War. Anti-Israel boycotts also gained traction in academic and labor institutions.

Observers note that the initial post-Holocaust sympathy toward Israel might be understood as a temporary response to the atrocities of World War II, a period when the West sought to reckon with the consequences of unchecked antisemitism. Yet, this "aftershock" never eliminated longstanding double standards applied to Jerusalem, and signs of waning support have become increasingly apparent over the past several years. The Holocaust survivor generation’s influence has diminished, and with it, much of the political and moral capital Israel once garnered.

Support from Evangelical Christian communities remains a notable exception, driven primarily by theological beliefs rather than geopolitical shifts. Moreover, strategic and moral alliances have historically yielded tangible support; U.S. presidents such as John F. Kennedy, Richard Nixon, and figures like Henry M. Jackson played critical roles in supplying arms and facilitating aid during key moments in Israel’s history.

The historical cycle of Jewish persecution and reliance on gentile goodwill inspired the Zionist movement’s pursuit of a sovereign Jewish state. Early Zionists initially believed emancipation and assimilation could protect Jewish communities, but repeated disappointments led to the conclusion that only a state of their own could provide security and dignity.

Rabbi Adler’s personal study offered a symbolic reminder of this complex history: a set of Mishna volumes printed in Berlin in 1936 contained an introduction claiming Jewish suspicions of gentiles were outdated, asserting that German society had become sufficiently refined to dispel such fears. This misplaced confidence, shattered by the subsequent horrors of the Holocaust, stands as a cautionary metaphor against relying on goodwill alone.

The enduring message from these episodes is clear: antisemitism persists beneath the surface of international relations, and Israel’s survival depends on acknowledging these realities while maintaining robust state security. The hope for lasting acceptance should be tempered by historical experience, reinforcing the imperative to remain vigilant and self-reliant in a world where the lines of support can shift rapidly.