How tribalism silences complexity, and why it threatens Israel’s survival.
Recently, while discussing the war with long-time friends, I raised a question about the strategy in Gaza. The atmosphere quickly changed. Within seconds, the conversation shifted from the policy to my allegiance to Israel. That personal moment reflects a broader, dangerous pattern I see across news feeds and political rhetoric, the shrinking space for doubt and argument that was once a fundamental part of being Jewish.
The Jewish people have long favored pragmatism and complexity over simple, immediate solutions. However, in recent decades, Israeli society has been losing its capacity for complexity and genuine public discourse and is drifting toward tribalism, oversimplification, and hate. These tendencies weaken the very qualities that once ensured our survival and risk handing our fate to those whose interests are not our own.
An independent, questioning mindset helped the Jewish people survive and preserve their identity in the diaspora. Through Talmudic reasoning and ‘machloket l’shem shamayim’ (‘Argument for the sake of heaven’), communities honed habits of critical thinking, debate, and pragmatism. In many places, Jews learned to live with complexity, accepting the compromise of being secular in the street and Jewish at home.
Even in the early years of the State of Israel, when uncertainty and danger were constant, there was still space for debate and hard strategic choices. The Altalena affair and its later reconciliation, Reparations from Germany after the Holocaust, and Ben-Gurion’s Haredi exemption to rebuild spiritual life were all bitterly contested decisions. Yet each was made after argument, listening to all sides, and ultimately choosing what was believed to serve society’s long‑term survival.
After several decades of perceived stability, much of the public has grown comfortable and focused on short‑term gains for its own sector, while giving less weight to other perspectives. This is tribalism. Tribal identity is not inherently bad, but it becomes dangerous when public figures weaponize it, reducing it into a narrative of ‘us’ or ‘them’, turning it into a tool that undermines our shared resilience and ability to survive.
In the last two decades, this dynamic has created fertile ground for extremist politicians, who inflame their base against any dissenting voice. The atrocities of October 7th intensified these tendencies. shock, grief, and anger have hardened into hatred and distance, both inside Israel and toward the outside world. In this climate, criticizing Israel or its government is often treated as treason, not as part of a vital democratic conduct.
A central social effect is the systematic weaponization of tribalism for political gain. Influential figures use the language of unity and strength to attack anyone who questions their actions or expresses a different opinion, branding them ‘traitors’ or ‘enemies from within.’ Instead of paying a political price for this behavior, they are rewarded and praised by their supporters, creating a dangerous positive feedback loop.
We know that different media outlets have different political biases, but there is also a structural problem of incentives. Many rush to publish, even at the cost of accuracy, in order to shape public perception first and rarely correct their errors later. Social media platforms deepen this problem: their feeds are designed to exploit our psychological vulnerabilities and keep us engaged, because our attention is what they sell. They have discovered that amplifying negative emotions, echo chambers, and extreme voices on all sides is the most effective way to do this, regardless of the social damage.
The result is a spiral of silence. People who question government actions often stay silent, because the fear of social backlash or isolation outweighs their political convictions. Their silence makes it seem as if everyone agrees, which pressures even more people to keep their doubts to themselves, reinforcing the illusion of total support.
Even as I write this, I feel some fear. I worry that these words might be taken out of context, stripped of their complexity, and used against me as proof of disloyalty. The fact that such hesitation exists around a call for thoughtful debate is, in itself, a symptom of the problem I am describing.
Yes, sometimes a rapid, difficult decision must be made and a side must be chosen. The problem is not the act of choosing itself, but the oversimplification that often precedes it. When we flatten complex problems into simple headlines, we produce shallow solutions that are likely to fail. Without the right intellectual attitude, there is no sense of responsibility for those failures, no learning from them, only a deeper rift and growing animosity between different parts of society.
Even outside Israel, this loss of comfort with disagreement and complexity harms our global standing. Well‑intentioned supporters often try to defend Israel in public debates but fail to persuade, and the conversation quickly collapses into a shouting match. By contrast, when we truly listen, acknowledge the other side’s claims, and then carefully refute or outweigh them, we strengthen our own position and increase our credibility.
If we wish to remain a thriving nation against all odds, we must restore our intellectual sovereignty. That means rebuilding a culture of respectful public discourse, recognizing and bracketing our biases, hearing uncomfortable answers, refusing to label doubt as disloyalty, and insisting on understanding and mapping complexity before we decide. Only then can we make decisions capable of securing our future.
Nimrod Schlezinger is a fourth-year Psychology and Business student at Reichman University, a Birthright Israel Excel Fellow, a National Debate Champion, and a Fellow in the Argov Fellows Program for Leadership and Diplomacy.