When Tommy Robinson – once the face of English street populism – stands in London waving an Israeli flag and calling Hamas “pure evil,” it is hard to know whether to cheer or cringe.
For many Israelis and Jews abroad, the sight evokes deep ambivalence. Robinson’s record is troubling: a past riddled with violence, contempt of court, and a movement, the English Defence League (EDL), whose rhetoric was as coarse as it was divisive. And yet, in a Britain where polite society tiptoes around Islamist extremism, Robinson has become one of Israel’s fiercest public defenders since October 7.
It is an uncomfortable paradox but also an important one.
From street protest to moral outrage
Since Hamas’s massacre last year, Robinson has used his vast online following to denounce what he sees as the moral collapse of the Western Left. He calls out media double standards, pro-Hamas marches, and the silence of political leaders unwilling to confront radical Islam. His message is blunt: If the West cannot even identify its enemies, it will lose the battle for civilization.
That message has resonated with tens of thousands of ordinary Britons, people who are not “far Right” but who feel alienated by the cautious half-truths of mainstream politics. In their eyes, Robinson has become a kind of truth-teller: crude, yes, but unafraid.
From Luton to Judea and Samaria
Unlike the countless commentators who moralize about Israel from afar, Robinson has taken the trouble to come and see the country for himself. On previous visits, he traveled through Judea and Samaria, met families living under daily security threats, and spoke with soldiers who defend those communities. He spoke with Palestinians and got to know their views, their education system, and their society.
Whatever one thinks of him, this is not a man who pontificates from a London studio. He has walked the streets of Hebron and seen for himself the impossible choices Israelis face. He returned home convinced that Israel is not an aggressor but a nation defending its existence against a death cult.
That firsthand engagement stands in stark contrast to the legions of Western pundits and politicians who moralize about “occupation” and “proportionality” without ever setting foot in the region.
The backlash in Israel
Still, his recent invitation to Israel by a government minister was not universally welcomed. Many Israelis were uneasy that a figure with Robinson’s background – and his baggage – had been feted by an official of the state. For some, it signaled a dangerous willingness to associate with the fringes of the global Right. For others, it was simply bad optics: Israel, already accused of authoritarianism by its critics, hardly benefits from the embrace of a man widely branded as an extremist.
Yet others here defended the visit. They pointed out that in Britain’s public square, where there are weekly demonstrations of tens of thousands effectively calling for the destruction of the State of Israel and consequent second Holocaust (“From the River to the Sea, Globalize the Intifada”), where universities host pro-Hamas rallies, and where police hesitate to protect Jewish students, Robinson is one of the few who openly and unapologetically supports the Jewish state. They ask, pointedly, why Israel should reject solidarity when so many of its supposed allies remain silent.
The moral tension
There is no way to sanitize Robinson’s past. His criminal record, his history of incendiary speech, and the thuggery that once surrounded the EDL will not be erased by a few tweets about Israel’s right to exist. But moral integrity also requires recognizing truth when it is spoken, even by imperfect messengers.
Robinson’s core argument about Western cowardice in the face of Islamist extremism is not wrong. The unwillingness of political leaders, journalists, and universities to speak plainly about the nature of the threat – and about the moral difference between a democratic state and a terror group – has left a vacuum that voices like his rush to fill.
As Jewish tradition reminds us, even Balaam, hired to curse Israel, ended up blessing it. His character was corrupt, but his words were true. Sometimes, truth comes from the most unlikely mouths.
A symptom, not a solution
If Robinson’s popularity is uncomfortable, it is also revealing. It tells us that millions in Britain and across Europe feel abandoned by their elites and that they are desperate for moral clarity in a fog of relativism. When mainstream institutions are too timid to call Hamas evil, they leave the moral high ground to figures like Tommy Robinson.
That is not Robinson’s triumph; it is our failure.
Israelis understand this better than most. Our history is full of strange alliances and unlikely friends. Some of them we welcomed with open arms; others we accepted warily because they served a greater truth. In wartime, one does not choose allies by their dinner-party appeal but by their willingness to stand against evil.
The personal dilemma
I confess my own ambivalence. I do not want Tommy Robinson to be the face of British support for Israel. His record and his rhetoric make that untenable. But I cannot ignore that, at a time when so many moral voices in the West have fallen silent, he is one of the few still willing to call barbarism by its name.
When rockets rain on Ashkelon, and London streets fill with Hamas flags, it is Robinson, not the BBC or the archbishop of Canterbury, who waves Israel’s flag in Trafalgar Square. There is something profoundly wrong with that picture, not because of him but because of everyone else’s absence.
Where that leaves us
We should neither canonize him nor condemn him reflexively. We can acknowledge his truth without excusing his sins. We can accept his support without giving him moral leadership.
But we should also heed the warning his popularity contains: When truth is left unsaid by those who ought to speak it, others – rougher, angrier, less polished – will speak it instead.
Perhaps the real question is not whether Israel should welcome Tommy Robinson’s support, but why, in this age of moral confusion, so few others have the courage to do the same.
The writer is a rabbi and physician, and lives in Ramat Poleg, Netanya. He is a co-founder of Techelet – Inspiring Judaism.