In The Beginning of Politics: Power in the Biblical Book of Samuel, published last year, Moshe Halbertal and Stephen Holmes argue that the author of this biblical book is “an uncannily astute observer of politics” and tease out from his words a sophisticated political argument about the perils of monarchy. Sam Brody, while finding much to praise about The Beginning of Politics, also expresses some reservations:

The term “observer” is key here. Working as he did in narrative form, our anonymous writer is of course not to be regarded as a systematic political “theorist” in the Aristotelian mode, but rather as a witness to an experiment, namely the institution of dynastic monarchy in a society to which such governance had previously been foreign, and as a savvy and trenchant commentator on the pitfalls and dangers of that experiment. . . .

[One of the book’s problems] has to do with an attitude not uncommon to political scientists. Halbertal and Holmes argue that the author of Samuel is writing about politics, rather than merely staking out a partisan political position (say, pro-David or pro-House of Saul). The book of Samuel, [according to Halbertal and Holmes], has grander aims; it “sets forth the proper attitude that should be assumed toward the political project as a whole.” “The” political project, as seen here, is the centralization of political and military authority in a hierarchical structure with immense extractive power, including the ability to conscript and to tax. This is what makes Samuel relevant to our times—the dynastic monarchical form is only one historical manifestation of “the” political project; the liberal state is another, which could also be subject to the same critique. The attitude is tragic; horrific flaws are endemic to such politics, and yet they are necessary, as dramatized by God’s decision to abdicate the throne and allow the people to have a human king. “The” political project, then, is all of the following: autonomous, human, necessary, dangerous, flawed, and sovereign.

But we may ask ourselves whether this is, indeed, all that politics is. The decision to abandon the divine anarchy prevailing in [in the previous book of] Judges is presented in two ways that are somewhat in tension with each other: as absolutely necessary, and as a trade-off. “This is because leaderless interregna will inevitably invite attacks by foreign enemies and spark violent succession struggles, civil wars, or even a shattering of the community,” as Halbertal and Holmes explain at the beginning of the book.

But they then go on to explain how the choice for monarchy, itself, invited attacks by and on foreign enemies, violent succession struggles, civil wars, and even a shattering of the community. So why wouldn’t the conscious choice for anarchy—holistic, divine-human, contingent, dangerous, flawed, and non-sovereign—also count as “a” political project? . . . The answer, it seems to me, is tautological and embedded in the self-definition of political science as the study of a practice that can only truly emerge once God is dethroned. The real claim of The Beginning of Politics is that the author of Samuel engaged in such a study.

Two extraordinary events demonstrate something important about Israel’s most fervent adversaries. One was a speech given at something called The People’s Forum (funded generously by Goldman Sachs), which stated, “When the state of Israel is finally destroyed and erased from history, that will be the single most important blow we can give to destroying capitalism and imperialism.”

The suggestion that this tiny state is the linchpin of a global, centuries-old phenomenon like capitalism goes well beyond anything resembling rational criticism. Even if Israel were guilty of genocide, apartheid, and oppression—which of course it is not—it would not follow that its destruction would help end capitalism or imperialism.

The other was an anti-Israel protest that took place in front of New York City’s Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center, deemed “complicit” in Israel’s evils. At organizers’ urging, participants shouted their slogans at kids in the cancer ward, who were watching from the windows. Given Hamas’s indifference toward the lives of Gazan children, such callousness toward non-Palestinian children from Hamas’s Western allies shouldn’t be surprising. The protest—like the abovementioned speech—deliberately conveyed the message that Israel is the ultimate evil and its destruction the ultimate good, cancer patients be damned.

The fact that Israel’s adversaries are almost comically perverse does not mean that they can be dismissed. If its allies fail to understand the obsessive and irrational hatred that it faces, they cannot effectively help it defend itself.