Last week, a friend sent me an episode of a progressive Jewish podcast where one of my essays was discussed. At some point, the host and her guests began talking about the "ostracization of Zionists," and they agreed that it was a complex and controversial matter—almost as though it were unreasonable for us to demand that proponents of this racist, genocidal ideology face social consequences. One guest even called it "litmus testing Jews on Israel." Anyway, while the episode continued, I opened social media to see to see the news: Zionists were burning Palestinians alive. I saw 19-year-old Shaban al-Dalou, connected to an IV drip on a makeshift hospital bed, being engulfed in flames. I couldn't think of a starker juxtaposition to illustrate the chasms that separate us from some of our allies—between their priorities, their concerns, and ours. I could not come up with a better metaphor for this level of detachment from reality. We know that, rightfully, they would never extend the same grace or nuance to Nazis, but somehow, miraculously, when the conversation is about Zionists, demanding moral and political consistency becomes much more intricate—hesitation masquerades as intellectual complexity. I don't know whether it's incredulity, cognitive dissonance, or willful ignorance, but we are on two completely different planets and only the Palestinians are expected to bridge the gap. It’s depressing to think that, after a year of nonstop televised massacres, the irredeemable, indefensible rot that is Zionism remains "debatable" in public life. I know these words will be hard to read for some, and for others, they’ll be easy to dismiss. Some will cast me as overly critical and their worldly Palestinian friends will agree. Others will say: “No matter what we do, we’ll be called either Hamas supporters or Zionist apologists,” a refrain I often hear, reminiscent of clichéd biracial slam poetry. Others are waiting for some kind of BDS fatwa to command them to spit in the face of their Zionist uncles, knowing that fatwa will never come. So can we be honest? What will it take? What is it, if not the systemic rape of political prisoners, that will propel you to have the difficult dinner conversation, to dispel and disown Zionism materially, not only discursively? What is it, if not the carving of the Star of David into the cheeks of our young men, that will propel you to protest the Israeli flags present in every facet of Jewish American life? I ask sincerely—is there a threshold?