The New Anti-Semitism Hides Behind the Language of Virtue

Commentary

Writing in December 1967, French public intellectual and sociologist Raymond Aron argued that the West was entering the “age of suspicion.” He was referring to a new strain of anti-Semitism ushered in by none other than Gen. Charles de Gaulle, hero of the Free French Forces during World War II and then president of France.

Some context is helpful. June 1967 marked the Six Day War, the third major conflict between Israel and its Arab neighbours—primarily Egypt and Syria, united under the short-lived United Arab Republic, with Jordan and Iraq also involved. As in the 1948 War of Independence and the 1956 Suez Crisis, Israel achieved a decisive military victory. This time, however, Israel emerged as an occupying power—an “embarrassment of riches,” as one Israeli official put it—controlling the Golan Heights, West Bank, Gaza, and the Sinai.

During the lead-up to the war, through its course, and in the aftermath, Aron wrote a series of articles for Le Figaro. These essays—later collected in “De Gaulle, Israel and the Jews”—offered a masterclass in political and geopolitical analysis. They examined the Middle East conflict, the involvement of global powers like the United States and the Soviet Union, and the influence of mid-level states including Yugoslavia, India, the UK, France, and Canada. Aron was well-positioned to comment, being the author of “Peace and War: A Theory of International Relations,” a foundational work in the field.

The second contextual point is de Gaulle’s now-infamous press conference on Nov. 27, 1967. Under his leadership, France had extricated itself from Algeria after a brutal war that contributed much to the modern concept of decolonization. During that conflict, France was a strong ally of Israel, supplying advanced fighter aircraft and viewing the Jewish state—and other ethnic and religious minorities in the Muslim world—as a bulwark against pan-Arabism, which sought to revive the Islamic caliphate dismantled by Mustafa Kemal in 1924.

But after the Algerian War ended in 1962, France abruptly changed course. Spurred also by U.S. involvement in Vietnam, de Gaulle distanced France from its colonial past and from the “imperialist” United States—and, increasingly, from Israel. He moved to cultivate closer ties with the Soviet Union and Arab states.

So, by 1967, France—once allied with Israel in the Suez Crisis—condemned Israel for initiating the Six Day War. That Egypt’s President Nasser had provoked Israel by blockading the Gulf of Aqaba and requesting the withdrawal of U.N. peacekeepers from the Sinai made no difference. De Gaulle placed the blame squarely on Israel.

For Aron, however, the most troubling aspect of de Gaulle’s press conference was not the political pivot but his comments about Jews—both Israeli and diaspora. De Gaulle stated:

“Some even feared that the Jews, scattered hitherto but who had remained what they had always been, that is an elite people, self-assured and domineering, might, once they were reunited, turn the very moving hopes they had formed over nineteen centuries: ‘Next year in Jerusalem’, into a burning ambition of conquest.”

To Aron, this language echoed modernized anti-Semitic tropes—accusations of Jewish elitism, domination, and adaptability as tools of cultural manipulation. Though he stopped short of calling de Gaulle an anti-Semite, Aron argued that the general’s remarks, in the context of leftist decolonization ideology and growing anti-Western sentiment, opened a dangerous new chapter. Aron’s response is worth quoting in full:

“No Jew ought to impose silence on the anti-semites by reminding them of former sufferings, however excessive. I am not going to liken the anti-semites of 1967 to Hitler, so as to disqualify them without hearing what they have to say. But, writing freely in a free country, I shall say that General de Gaulle has knowingly and deliberately initiated a new phase of Jewish history and perhaps of anti-semitism. Everything has once again become possible; everything is beginning over again. Agreed, there is no threat of persecution, only of ‘ill-will’. It is not the age of contempt but the age of suspicion.”

This was a remarkable statement—especially from a self-described “de-Judaized” Jew and proud French citizen. Aron captured a moment when the spiritual, intellectual, and geopolitical dynamics of the modern world began to shift. In his characteristic restraint, he refused to liken 1967’s anti-Semitism to that of Hitler or to invoke Holocaust suffering as a rhetorical weapon—recognizing such tools would soon be turned against Israel. Instead, he drew a careful line: while there was no present threat of physical persecution, a new form of anti-Semitism had emerged, rooted in decolonial ideology and casting the Jew not as victim, but as imperialist aggressor. Aron saw clearly the dangerous forces de Gaulle’s language had legitimized.

Today, we still live under the shadow of de Gaulle’s invocation—and we still need Aron’s clarity. The geopolitical map has shifted: the Soviet Union has collapsed, replaced by a Russia that remains assertive in the Middle East and, unlike its predecessor, is now militarily active on the European continent. Europe, once a chessboard of balance-of-power politics, has transformed into a humanitarian and commercial union that reflexively condemns the West’s use of force—particularly that of Israel and the United States. And contrary to Aron’s expectations, several Arab nations—though not Iran or Turkey—have moved toward rapprochement with Israel.

Yet while the global alignments have evolved, the intellectual and moral dynamics Aron identified endure—and have, arguably, intensified. Suspicion of Israel has deepened. Charges of genocide are now casually levelled by commentators, U.N. officials, and European politicians alike.

Aron’s geopolitical critique of de Gaulle also remains relevant. While acknowledging France’s right to chart its own course, Aron argued that de Gaulle’s actions undermined French interests and influence in the Middle East. We see a parallel today. Canada, the UK, and France, among others, have recognized Palestinian statehood in light of Israel’s military campaign Gaza. Cloaked in humanitarian language, these gestures neither ease tensions nor serve national interests.

The governments of these countries must also contend with significant and growing Muslim populations at home—yet they cannot justify foreign policy solely by appealing to domestic harmony. Compared to 1967, these nations wield far less regional influence, as Middle Eastern actors increasingly shape their own affairs. Turkey’s ambition to supplant Iran as claimant to a revived caliphate, for example, has overtaken its once-cherished pursuit of EU membership.

Meanwhile, Russia presses Europe’s eastern flank with its war in Ukraine. Facing pressure on both its eastern and southeastern borders—and with complex relationships with growing Muslim populations—Western Europe should be rediscovering its national, cultural and military independence. Instead, it indulges the same illusion de Gaulle once did: that it can define itself in contrast to the “imperialist” United States and Israel without consequence.

We could use Aron’s sober voice today. His balanced geopolitical judgment, deep understanding of ideological bias—captured in his “Opium of the Intellectuals”—and his insight into Israel’s meaning both for Jews and for global affairs remain invaluable. Our leaders would do well to revisit Aron’s essays, reflect on their national interests, reassess the moral stakes of their choices, and reconsider the role of religion both at home and abroad.

We still live in Aron’s age of suspicion. Though the players have shifted, the stakes remain. If we hope for a livable future, justice and force—contrary to utopian humanitarian ideals—must act in concert.

Collin May is a senior fellow with the Frontier Centre for Public Policy, a lawyer, and Adjunct Lecturer in Community Health Sciences at the University of Calgary, with degrees in law (Dalhousie University), a Masters in Theological Studies (Harvard) and a Diplôme d ’études approfondies (École des hautes études, Paris).

Views expressed in this article are the opinions of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of The Epoch Times.