Until three years ago, I identified as non-binary, moved in progressive circles, and regarded “Free Palestine” as a straightforward moral position. I was extremely woke, the very cliché that has permeated all manner of progressive crowd shots. Coloured hair, a septum piercing, and a loud social media presence that demanded attention. My understanding of Israel and Palestine centred on Palestinian suffering and viewed Israel primarily through a settler-colonial lens.
Today, I am a Zionist who supports Israel’s right to exist and defend itself as the nation-state of the Jewish people, and my wider political outlook has become more conservative in the Australian context. This was not an overnight reversal, but a gradual reassessment prompted by events, further reading, and a growing sense that my previous framework did not account for the full complexity of the conflict.
The decisive turning point was the Hamas-led attack of 7 October 2023. About 1,200 people were killed, many in their homes or at a music festival, and hostages were taken. I was unsettled not only by the attack itself, but also by responses in some progressive spaces that contextualised or minimised the violence, and at times appeared to celebrate it as “resistance.” Slogans such as “From the River to the Sea,” together with claims that Zionism is inherently racist, seemed to leave little room for Jewish self-determination. I also became concerned that criticism of Israel sometimes relied on standards not applied consistently elsewhere. For me, this moved beyond legitimate scrutiny of Israeli policy and raised difficult questions about double standards and the persistence of antisemitic ideas within some forms of anti-Zionist rhetoric.
That experience prompted me to revisit the history beneath the slogans. I came to place greater weight on the Jewish people’s longstanding connection to the land, the repeated failures of partition and peace proposals, and the political ideologies that continue to reject Israel’s existence. I also looked more closely at the realities of Hamas rule in Gaza, including its investment in military infrastructure and its conduct toward civilians. At the same time, I came to see Israel as a flawed but functioning liberal democracy, with Arab citizens participating in political life, an independent judiciary, and a free press. None of this removes the need to scrutinise Israeli governments or acknowledge Palestinian suffering. It did, however, persuade me that treating Israel as uniquely illegitimate was historically incomplete and politically unhelpful.
My broader political shift followed a similar pattern: questions I had once treated as settled began to appear more complex. In debates about sex and gender, I became more cautious about medical interventions for young people and more attentive to the quality and limits of the available evidence. Reviews such as the UK’s Cass Review reinforced my view that careful assessment, long-term research, and room for exploratory therapy matter. As a gay, same-sex-attracted person, I also found it increasingly important to retain clear language about biological sex while treating gender-diverse people with dignity. This did not require rejecting compassion or individual freedom; for me, it meant balancing them with clinical caution, open inquiry, and respect for different experiences.
In Australia, I also became more receptive to conservative arguments about the relationship between principle and practical outcomes. Questions about migration, housing and infrastructure, energy affordability, free expression, public safety, and national history seemed to require trade-offs that were not always acknowledged in the political discussion around me. I was drawn to an emphasis on equal application of the law, individual agency, evidence-based policy, and the protection of liberal democratic institutions. I do not regard these values as the exclusive property of the right, nor do I believe progressive politics has nothing to offer. Rather, I found that a conservative framework increasingly matched the way I weighed competing priorities.
The move from Free Palestine supporter to Zionist was therefore not an isolated foreign-policy adjustment. It formed part of a wider reconsideration of how political narratives can simplify complicated realities. I became wary of any framework – on the left or the right -that divides the world too neatly into oppressors and oppressed, or that excuses illiberal behaviour when it serves a preferred story. Supporting Israel’s existence and right to self-defence now sits, for me, alongside a commitment to Palestinian dignity, peaceful coexistence, liberal democracy, and consistent moral standards. My conservative turn reflects the same preference in domestic affairs: outcomes, evidence, equal citizenship, and institutional stability matter more to me than loyalty to a political tribe.
Living openly as a Zionist has not been without personal cost. Some friendships have changed, and friction has emerged in circles that once felt like home. Yet the change has also encouraged me to hold more than one truth at once: Palestinian civilians have endured profound suffering; Jewish peoplehood and connection to the land are real; Israel faces genuine security threats; and Israeli policies, like those of any government, remain open to criticism. Acknowledging these tensions has made my position more considered, not less committed.
What has grown is a quieter confidence in the position itself. Supporting Israel’s right to exist and defend itself no longer feels like a stance adopted merely in opposition to a progressive consensus. It is a conclusion reached through reflection, study, and a willingness to reconsider earlier assumptions. I hope to continue that journey without replacing one rigid orthodoxy with another: to engage seriously with disagreement, to recognise suffering wherever it occurs, and to keep testing my views against evidence, experience, and the demands of a pluralist society.
Elior Hale* is a newly proud Zionist and Jewish ally who is a Communications professional by day and recovering woke man at night
