By: Nick Hansen

For decades, Israel could count on a wide and diverse foundation of international support — political, religious and civic. It was a base built not only on shared democratic values and post-Holocaust solidarity, but also on biblical conviction. Yet today, that foundation is shifting. From Washington to Berlin, from church pews to television studios, some of Israel’s oldest allies are growing silent — or turning away.

Recent surveys of global opinion confirm what many have sensed intuitively. According to a Pew Research poll in 2025, only 18% of Democrats in the United States now hold a favourable view of Israel’s government, compared to 55% among Republicans, which also has been waning. In Europe, YouGov data shows record-low favourability scores: –44 in Germany, –48 in France, and –55 in Spain. In all three countries, less than one in five citizens express a positive opinion of Israel.

The consequences are already visible. In August, Germany imposed new restrictions on arms exports to Israel — supported by 73% of its population. In Spain, nearly 80% favour immediate recognition of a Palestinian state and strict travel and trade limitations on Israel until then. France, once a cautious mediator, is witnessing a generation of students and intellectuals embracing anti-Israel narratives that blur the line between political critique and classic antisemitic tropes.

Across the Atlantic, the polarisation runs deep. Among American conservatives, a new wave of “restrainers” is challenging the traditional pro-Israel consensus. Social media stars such as Tucker Carlson and Candace Owens — once aligned with the Republican mainstream — now question America’s historic alliance with Israel. Their criticism is less about theology than about populist fatigue: a narrative that Israel’s conflicts are “not our fight.” While they remain symbolic figures, their popularity reflects a broader ideological drift that should not be ignored.

Yet the erosion of support is not limited to politics. It reaches into the realm of Christian life itself. For more than a century, the alliance between Israel and a broad segment of the global Church has been a moral backbone in defending Jewish self-determination and confronting antisemitism. This marked a sea change from the Church’s historically hostile approach to the Jewish people and faith. But today, that alliance is under growing pressure — both from within and without.

In Europe, theological opposition to “Christian Zionism” is gaining an institutional voice. In June, eight of ten Danish bishops issued a joint statement dismissing Christian Zionism as a misused theology that “legitimizes occupation and displacement.” Similar positions have appeared recently within the Church of England, the Lutheran World Federation, and the World Council of Churches, whose Central Committee in June 2025 went so far as to label Israel an “apartheid state” and called for sanctions.

This theological realignment does not happen in a vacuum. It is reinforced by parallel movements in the Muslim world. Earlier this year, a high-level consultation in Amman — organized by the Royal Aal al-Bayt Institute for Islamic Thought and Bethlehem’s Dar al-Kalima University — was explicitly titled “Strategies and Tactics for Confronting Christian Zionism.” Participants included church leaders from Jerusalem and Jordan, marking one of the clearest examples of Muslim–Christian coordination against Christian Zionist influence.

Alongside such initiatives, well-known Palestinian Christian organizations — such as Kairos Palestine and Sabeel — have long advocated for BDS (Boycott, Divestment, and Sanctions against Israel) within Western churches. Their conferences and publications resonate strongly in Europe, where a new moral language of “justice and liberation” has replaced the post-Holocaust theology of repentance and restoration. Together, these voices have succeeded in reframing the conversation — from shared biblical promise to political guilt and colonial critique.

The result is an ideological convergence: Muslim institutions, left-wing activists, and segments of mainline Christianity find common cause in opposing what they perceive as the theological and political “privileging” of Israel. While we cannot call it a tightly coordinated strategy, the outcome is unmistakable — a steady erosion of sympathy for Israel within the very circles that once stood as its strongest moral defenders.

For Israel, this shift matters profoundly. Public opinion shapes policy; theology shapes conscience. When both turn cold, antisemitism finds new air to breathe, not dressed in the language of hatred, but in the skewed rhetoric of human rights. The danger is subtle but real: that Israel’s isolation grows not only through war, but also through words — or worse, indifference.

For the Church, the challenge is equally urgent. The question is not whether one must agree with every Israeli policy, but whether one still recognises Israel’s unique role in God’s redemptive story and the Jewish people’s enduring covenant. To forget that is to forget our own heritage.

As the pro-Israel base erodes, voices of courage are needed to rebuild it. That means renewed alliances, informed advocacy, and theological clarity. It means rejecting the convenience of silence and the illusion of neutrality. So, in an age when antisemitism rises again in our Western streets, the Church must remember its calling. We must not conform to political whimsy, but stand on its age-old wisdom of our biblical foundation. Because when the underpinning erodes, it is not Israel alone that stands to suffer — it is a matter of losing the moral footing of the Christian West itself.

Nick Hansen is national director for ICEJ-Denmark.

Main Photo Credit: ICEJ Norway