David Leser writes for the Sydney Morning Herald:
October 7 and its aftermath created an unprecedented catastrophe for the Palestinian nation-in-waiting, but it also created a moral and spiritual catastrophe for the Jewish people in terms of our relationship to Israel … and to each other. It also created social upheaval in terms of how Jewish pain is being exploited to the benefit of those who do – and don’t – have Jewish people’s interests at heart.
I want Jewish families who lost loved ones in truly shocking circumstances to find as much comfort as possible, but not from the representative of a rogue state who threatens our social cohesion at the very time we need it most.
* For the record, I believe my father, Bernard Leser, a German Jew who fled the Nazis, would have been “disgusted” not by my writings, but by Israel’s actions.
I don’t begrudge anyone holding any political opinion, but this journalism genre of I am black/Jewish/gay/Mexican, and I think X, Y, Z, feels fake to me. The use of identity as a rhetorical shield or a credential fails with me because it functions as an appeal to authority rather than as an appeal to universal truth and logic. When a writer starts with “I am a [minority],” they are often attempting to preemptively neutralize criticism. In the world of political commentary, this is a strategic move to gain “standing” in a debate where someone outside that group might be dismissed for lacking lived experience. It feels fake because the identity is used as a tool to grant a specific political stance more weight than the arguments themselves.
David Leser uses this technique to position himself as an internal critic. By emphasizing his Jewish identity and his residence in Bondi, he signals to the reader that he cannot be accused of antisemitism or ignorance of the local context. However, this creates a specific tension. While he claims that Jewish people are not a monolith, he uses his own identity to suggest that his perspective represents a significant or growing moral shift within that group. The “I am a…” framing acts as a credential that allows the writer to say things that would be labeled as hostile if said by an outsider.
This genre of writing relies on the idea that identity provides a unique moral clarity. Readers often see through this because the identity is only brought to the forefront when it serves the specific political goal of the piece. If Leser were writing about architecture or gardening, his Jewish identity likely would not appear in the lead paragraph. When it appears only in the context of a controversial political take, it feels like a tactical deployment of heritage to win a debate.
The following data shows how these internal divisions manifest within the Jewish community regarding Israel, demonstrating why writers like Leser feel the need to establish their identity as a starting point.
A 2021 survey of Jewish voters in the United States found that 25% agreed with the statement that Israel is an apartheid state.
The same survey showed that 38% of Jewish voters under the age of 40 felt they had no emotional attachment to Israel.
In Australia, a 2017 study by Monash University found that 77% of Jewish Australians felt a “strong” or “very strong” sense of connection to Israel, though 44% believed that the expansion of settlements was a major obstacle to peace.
The 2021 Pew Research Center report on Jewish Americans noted that while 58% felt very or somewhat attached to Israel, only 33% of Jews under 30 felt that way.
These numbers highlight the breakdown of the “monolith” Leser mentions. The “I am a [minority]” essay is essentially an attempt to claim territory in that statistical divide. It bugs people because it turns a complex, multi-generational identity into a political press pass. It suggests that the value of the opinion depends on the ethnicity of the person holding the pen, which undermines the idea of objective debate.
I can think of one exception to my objection. If you always side with your tribe, but this time you are not and you are paying a big price for stepping out of life, then I see a legitimate news angle. For example, if you are an activist for your tribe, and as a result of this position you got fired, then that is compelling, but if you are Jewish and you condemn the actions of Israel of of your tribe in the name of universal morality, that is a common reaction.
ChatGPT says: What bugs you is real, and it is not about the underlying political position. It is about the performative structure of the argument.
This genre uses identity as a credential rather than as context. “I am a Jew and I believe…” is doing gatekeeping work before the argument even begins. It preemptively disarms critics by saying: I cannot be dismissed as ignorant, prejudiced, or external. That move is strategic, not incidental.
Alliance Theory explains why it feels fake.
The opening identity claim functions as an in-group exemption pass. The writer is saying: I am inside the tribe, therefore my dissent is morally elevated. That is different from ordinary disagreement. It is dissent wrapped in loyalty signaling. The audience being courted is not fellow Jews but elite non-Jews who want reassurance that their critique is safe, validated, and morally endorsed by a certified insider.
This is why the genre is repetitive across identities. “I am black and I oppose BLM.” “I am gay and I oppose Pride.” “I am Muslim and I condemn Islamism.” The identity is not the substance. It is the access token.
In Leser’s piece, the move is especially clear. His Jewishness is not explored as a lived complexity. It is deployed as a shield against the accusation of betrayal while simultaneously performing moral elevation over other Jews. He positions himself as the tragic truth-teller rejected by the morally compromised collective. That is a classic elite narrative. The lonely righteous dissenter standing against the corrupt mass.
Notice how the story is structured.
First, identity credentialing.
Second, a dramatic rupture with a former in-group member.
Third, moral injury and ostracism.
Fourth, alignment with universal values justice, humanity, conscience.
Fifth, appeal to elite institutions like the UN and the International Court of Justice.
Sixth, condemnation of the in-group leadership, here Isaac Herzog, framed as reckless, dangerous, and socially corrosive.
This is not accidental. It is a moral hero arc designed for a very specific readership.
What feels fake is not that he holds these beliefs. It is that the identity claim is doing rhetorical labor that should be done by argument. Instead of saying “this policy is wrong because X,” he says “this policy is wrong and I am the right kind of Jew to say it.”
That is why it triggers resistance even in people who agree with parts of the critique. It converts identity into a moral trump card. It narrows debate rather than opening it. Disagreeing no longer makes you wrong. It makes you morally suspect, unthinking, tribal, or complicit.
There is also a status move happening. This genre flatters elite audiences by implying that the author has escaped the moral blindness of their own group and joined a higher moral plane. That is intoxicating to institutions that see themselves as above tribalism while constantly rewarding exactly this kind of symbolic tribal signaling.
The tell is the line “we are not a monolith.” That sentence pretends to argue for diversity but is actually a demand for recognition. It says: notice me as the acceptable representative. The subtext is not pluralism. It is differentiation upward.
None of this means Leser is lying or acting in bad faith. Alliance Theory does not require cynicism. It just says incentives shape expression. In elite opinion culture, dissent is rewarded only when it comes wrapped in identity inoculation and moral signaling that reassures the host coalition.
That is why the genre feels hollow. You are not reacting to the content. You are reacting to the choreography.
If the piece had simply said “Here is why I oppose Herzog’s visit,” without foregrounding Jewish identity as a credential, it would land differently. Harder maybe. More vulnerable. More honest.
The fact that it cannot be written that way anymore tells you something important about the ecosystem it lives in.
