The arrival of Hans Kundnani’s Hyper-Zionism: Germany, the Nazi Past and Israel feels less like a conventional book launch and more like a necessary intervention, a stark warning about a nation grappling with its history and its present obligations. The book dissects how Germany’s remembrance culture, and its perceived moral duty to Israel, has morphed into something akin to a civic religion, with profound consequences for free speech and political discourse. It’s a collection that champions dissent and clarity in a climate where both are increasingly penalized, offering a powerful critique of Germany’s evolving relationship with its past and its present-day policies.
Understanding Hyper-Zionism: A New Framework for German Policy
Hyper-Zionism doesn’t present itself as a detached academic study, but as a living document of a political rupture. Kundnani and his contributors meticulously examine the terrain where history intersects with policy, memory becomes a form of discipline, and expressions of solidarity are met with suspicion. The core argument revolves around the concept of Staatsrason – “reason of state” – a phrase that has become a cornerstone of German foreign policy and a tool for silencing critical voices. The book argues this isn’t an immutable truth, but a strategic choice with complex origins.
The Hardening of Staatsrason After October 2023
Following the events of October 2023, the uncritical application of Staatsrason took on a liturgical quality. Unconditional support for Israel became synonymous with demonstrating democratic values, while any form of conditionality, restraint, or even basic human rights concerns were dismissed as dangerous. Hyper-Zionism doesn’t rely on polemic; instead, it provides a detailed anatomy of the effects: increased arms shipments, intensified diplomatic shielding of Israel, and the categorization of criticism as national betrayal.
This shift has had a chilling effect domestically. Artists, academics, activists, and even schoolchildren have found themselves under scrutiny for expressing dissenting opinions. A single social media post, a signature on a petition, or even a carefully chosen phrase could trigger administrative repercussions. The memory culture, once intended to broaden moral horizons, now actively polices them. However, the book is careful to emphasize that it doesn’t advocate discarding Germany’s Holocaust memory, but rather its instrumentalization and narrowing. The tragedy lies in how a lesson learned through immense grief can be weaponized for exclusion.
Deconstructing the Myth of German-Israeli Relations
A particularly compelling section of the book revisits the narrative of German-Israeli relations, dismantling the romanticized fable of reconciliation. The contributors reveal a relationship deeply shaped by Cold War strategy, the rehabilitation of German power, and pragmatic diplomatic calculations. Even the reparations paid by Germany were entangled in geopolitical maneuvering and, at times, lingering antisemitic sentiments within West German elites.
This demythologizing doesn’t diminish the genuine reconciliation efforts undertaken by individuals and civil society groups. Instead, it highlights how state narratives often flatten complexity. By contextualizing history, the book liberates readers from the suffocating weight of official storytelling, prompting a crucial question: if the relationship began in the realm of realpolitik, why has it become framed as an eternal moral obligation? The answer, consistently presented throughout the chapters, points to the political motivations of post-reunification Germany – its desire to project an image of redemption, responsibility, and strength. Israel, in this context, becomes not just a partner, but a symbol of German virtue, a status that has become fiercely protected.
From Universalism to Particularism: A Shifting Moral Landscape
Hans Kundnani’s own contribution traces a subtle yet significant shift that has become increasingly pronounced in recent decades: the move from universal lessons derived from the Holocaust towards an exclusive focus on responsibility to Israel. Initially, “Never again” was invoked to support universal human rights, anti-racist movements, and multicultural policies. However, by the time Angela Merkel declared Israel’s security a core component of German Staatsrason, that universal frame had drastically contracted, becoming a singular obligation.
This shift isn’t solely attributable to political leadership; it’s a result of broad elite consensus across the political spectrum. Paradoxically, the Green Party often acts as the most ardent defender of unconditional support, framing it within a progressive anti-fascist ideology. Social Democrats participate through carefully orchestrated moral displays, while the Christian Democrats embody steadfastness and historical anxiety. Through constant repetition, this stance has become the accepted norm. This is a mournful observation – a democratic society can succumb to intellectual conformity without resorting to censorship, simply through the establishment of a moral consensus masquerading as historical fact.
The “German Catechism” and the Suppression of Dissent
A central concept explored in the book is the “German catechism” – a set of unwritten rules dictating who is permitted to speak, what constitutes legitimate critique, and how accusations of antisemitism are deployed. This power isn’t exercised through bureaucratic means, but through an atmospheric pressure that permeates cultural institutions, public broadcasters, foundations, universities, and NGOs. Violating the catechism risks denunciation, while adhering to it becomes a matter of survival. This creates a chilling effect, eliminating the need for formal censorship, as the fear of reputational damage does the work itself. Public institutions, once embracing nuance, now default to preemptive restrictions. Immigration offices utilize political declarations as tests of belonging, courts contemplate the idea of anti-Zionism as legally disqualifying, and police departments regulate protests based on assumed suspicion.
Hyper-Zionism refuses to surrender the public sphere to fear, defending the space for argument, dissent, and complexity. It highlights how Holocaust remembrance has evolved from a universal moral compass to a national identity marker, leading to the displacement of guilt onto marginalized communities, particularly Arabs, Muslims, and Palestinians. This results in a tragic irony: a memory culture intended to prevent exclusion inadvertently reproduces it. The book’s attention to the cultural sector reveals an environment where invitations are withdrawn, exhibitions are cancelled, and careers are jeopardized due to political scrutiny.
Ultimately, Hyper-Zionism is a powerful call for a memory culture that embraces solidarity, distinguishes critique from betrayal, and rejects silent obedience as a measure of moral clarity. It invites us to envision a future where historical responsibility expands into empathy, complexity, and courage. The sadness permeates the pages, but the book insists on carrying it with open hands, offering a vital contribution to the ongoing struggle for a more just and equitable future.