Not a Question of Loyalty

In the month week, I’ve been asked on three separate occasions about my supposed dual loyalties. These weren’t casual inquiries—they went straight to the heart of who I am: my work, my religion, my family, and my Zionism. They weren’t about my record or vision for Australia; they were about whether my beliefs, politics, and very being are somehow divided between Australia and Israel.

It’s a strange, unsettling thing to face. In over thirty years, the only time anyone ever questioned my “dual loyalties” was in the light-hearted context of sport—like when Canada, the country of my birth, faced Australia at the Olympics, and people would joke about who I’d support. But in just the past month, I’ve been asked this three times—and unlike sport, these questions were dangerously serious. That shift speaks volumes more about prejudice than it does about me. And I know it cannot be only me—this is the same weary refrain Jews hear across the diaspora, wherever we live.

The charge of “dual loyalty” is one of the most insidious antisemitic tropes in history. For centuries, Jews have been accused of being “foreign” to their countries of residence, belonging not to their homelands but to some global cabal. The Nazis weaponised this smear, portraying Jews as rootless outsiders, part of a global conspiracy, and the 1935 Nuremberg Laws stripped Jews of citizenship entirely. Today, a modern version of that smear persists when Jews’ connections with Israel—real or cultural—are treated as grounds for mistrust. That is the true weight of history—not an innocent query, but a dangerous echo.

This prejudice isn’t just academic or historic. Earlier this year, a decorated Australian Defence Force officer had his security clearance revoked—not for misconduct, but for expressing cultural and emotional affinity with Israel. After nearly twenty years of loyal service, he was deemed to have “a higher loyalty to Israel than to Australia.” Trust, not disloyalty, was replaced by doubt. In the United States and Europe, too, Jewish politicians, community leaders, and ordinary citizens face the same insinuations. The geography changes, but the accusation remains the same.

I wonder if Australians with ties to Britain, Greece, Italy, India, or Canada are ever asked these kinds of questions. Somehow, I doubt it. Multiculturalism is celebrated as part of our national story. Yet for Jews—in Australia, in America, in France, in Britain—our ties to our people, our faith, our families, and yes, our Zionism, are potentially met with suspicion. That double standard stretches across the diaspora.