What Voltaire Would Say About Recognizing a Palestinian State Today

The 18th century produced countless geniuses who changed how we think in so many ways. Not least among them was François-Marie Arouet, better known by his pen name Voltaire. Like countless other savants in that era, he excelled at multiple disciplines – including history, philosophy, politics, and literature. 

But most of all, Voltaire is remembered for his sharp wit. One of his most famous quips was about the Holy Roman Empire, the loose confederation of principalities and dukedoms in what later became Germany. “This agglomeration which calls itself the Holy Roman Empire,” he said, “is in no way holy, nor Roman, nor an empire.”

Voltaire had little patience for pomposity and pretension, and his description of the Holy Roman Empire — a sprawling, lumbering political entity that dominated Central Europe for centuries — cut straight to the bone. 

It wasn’t holy — it was made up of competing Christian denominations, and the Church had long since lost control over its many local rulers. It wasn’t Roman — the connection to ancient Rome was tenuous at best, a grandiose title masking the reality of a Germanic confederation. And it certainly wasn’t an empire — it was a disorganized patchwork of feuding duchies and city-states that barely hung together under a distant elected emperor. 

Which is why Voltaire’s line is so memorable: it captured, in one withering sentence, the absurdity of dressing up a dysfunctional, fragmented mess as something it plainly was not.

Which brings us to the present day, and the latest diplomatic fad sweeping Western capitals: recognition of a Palestinian state. In the past few weeks alone, Britain, France, Australia, and Canada have all rushed to declare that “Palestine” should now be treated as if it is a real, functioning country.

But here’s the problem: it isn’t. As Voltaire might have said, there is no state — and frankly, there is no Palestine. According to the 1933 Montevideo Convention, a state must have four things: defined borders, a functioning government, a coherent judiciary and military, and a permanent population. Palestine has none of them. What it does have is a fractured leadership divided between a corrupt, un-elected Palestinian Authority in Ramallah and a genocidal terror regime in Gaza.

And yet, astonishingly, rather than confronting the nightmare reality that Palestinian national aspirations are being driven by an absolutist bunch of thugs — a murderous death cult that unleashed the worst massacre of Jews since the Holocaust — world leaders have chosen to reward them by indulging in the fantasy of Palestinian statehood. And make no mistake: when the Palestinians say “Palestine,” they mean all of Israel, not just Gaza and the West Bank.

Incredibly, October 7th has become a kind of twisted diplomatic success for Hamas and its international cheerleaders. A bloody terrorist rampage has been transformed into a Willy Wonka golden ticket at the United Nations, while foolish Western governments cower in the face of Islamic minorities and progressive loudmouths in their own countries. It is the international equivalent of applauding an arsonist by handing him the keys to the fire station — and then wondering why the fires keep spreading.

History offers us plenty of examples of phantom “states” that were recognized — or kind of recognized — despite having none of the attributes of genuine statehood. Take Biafra, for instance. In 1967, the Igbo people in southeastern Nigeria declared independence. For three brutal years, Biafra functioned as a shadow state, fighting a bloody war with Nigeria that left millions dead. 

A handful of countries recognized Biafra, but most of the world did not. And even those who toyed with the idea of recognition knew, deep down — or maybe not so deep down — that Biafra was never going to be a viable state. When it collapsed in 1970, the recognition evaporated as if it had never been offered.

Then there’s Transnistria — a sliver of land wedged between Moldova and Ukraine, which declared independence in 1990. It’s thirty five years later, and Transnistria still parades itself as a state: it has its own flag, an army, border controls, postage stamps, and even its own currency. 

In fact, on paper, it looks far more like a real state than “Palestine” ever has. And yet — crucially — no one recognizes it. Because the world understands that Transnistria is just a Russian-backed invention, a geopolitical puppet masquerading as a country.

Which brings us back to “Palestine.” Like Biafra, it has no prospect of surviving the test of time. Like Transnistria, it is just a figment of its own fantasy and the political considerations of others. It’s totally absurd for such an entity to be recognized as a state. 

If anything, by the usual standards of statehood, Disneyland has a stronger claim to sovereignty than Palestine. It has borders, border checks, its own security personnel, and a coherent government in the form of the Disney corporation. If the world is in the business of recognizing make-believe kingdoms, at least Disneyland delivers joy and entertainment — instead of terror tunnels and mayhem.

Parshat Re’eh contains a sobering warning that echoes down to our own time. Moses tells the Jewish people (Deut. 13:2): “If a prophet or a dreamer arises among you and gives you a sign or a wonder, and the sign comes to pass, but then he says, ‘Let us go after other gods,’ you must not listen to him.” 

The Torah’s message is chillingly clear: appearances can deceive. Someone might come along and dazzle us with something that seems legitimate. But in the final analysis, legitimacy is not determined by wishful thinking. What matters is fidelity to truth.

The classical commentaries drive this point home. The Ramban notes that the Torah presents us with a scenario in which the false prophet’s “wonder” actually happens. He predicted it, and it came to pass. And yet, the acid test is not that it happened, but whether the prophet’s message aligns with eternal truth. If it does not, the wonder is not a wonder, it is a distraction. 

Rabbi Obadiah Sforno sharpens this even further: the false prophet’s “achievement” dazzles the crowd in the moment, but it has no enduring substance. The appearance of success collapses the instant you measure it against what is real and lasting.

Malbim adds a more unsettling twist. He explains that such deceptions are not accidents, but a Divine test: will people cling to principle when they are confronted with a fake wonder, or will they be seduced by its allure? 

It’s an uncomfortable question. Will the spectacle of international recognition – the pageantry of parliaments, diplomats, and foreign ministers standing before TV cameras declaring their recognition of “Palestine” – really deliver? It sure looks like progress. But in reality, it is a lie — a false prophecy that leads people astray, away from moral clarity and toward disaster.

Rav Samson Raphael Hirsch constantly taught that the Torah is our safeguard against the fashions of the age, when hollow trends dress themselves up as timeless morality.

That’s exactly the point. The false prophet doesn’t look like a villain. On the contrary, he speaks the language of hope and righteousness. But he is a villain, spreading poison and destruction. So it is with “Palestinian statehood,” which is presented as a historical justice, but in reality is the epitome of terror, corruption, and wanton bloodshed.

By endorsing something that does not exist, the West is in effect falling into the trap of a false prophecy. Seduced by the theatrics of recognition, they are ignoring the truth that what they are doing strengthens terror and undermines their own credibility. They have mistaken illusion for substance — and that, says the Torah, is the very definition of a false prophet. 

As Voltaire himself put it, “Illusion is the first of all pleasures.” It’s time for the West to open their eyes and wake up from their dream.

The author is a rabbi in Beverly Hills, California.