Sitting in Colby College’s small Hillel space, the leaders of the Jewish student community gathered to discuss, once again, and for the second time since Oct. 7, whether the Israeli flags hanging quietly on the walls should stay up.

After an anonymous vote, a slim majority opted to keep them. That marked a major drop from the previous year, when the vote to keep the flags up was nearly unanimous. But just weeks later, Hillel’s leadership announced a new decision: the flags would come down. The reasoning? A desire to promote inclusivity and diversity, driven by the fear that the Israeli flag, to some, now represents exclusion or harm. If the goal is to make all Jews feel welcome, some argued, that flag had to go.

This decision wasn’t unique to Colby. Across the country, Jewish campus organizations have been reassessing how central Israel should be to their communal identity. In some cases, Jewish students have voted to remove Israeli symbols, to limit programming on Israel, or to invite speakers critical of Zionism, something that was once unthinkable in mainstream Jewish spaces. These aren’t radical groups on the political fringe. They are Hillels. They are Jewish student unions.

And these shifts have only accelerated as the war in Gaza drags on. After almost two years of bombardment, with tens of thousands dead, many Jewish American students are rethinking the role of Zionism in their lives. Some are distancing themselves from it entirely.

Before Israel’s founding, the Zionist movement relied on support from global Jewry to make its case. Even after 1948, diaspora support, including financial, moral and political, was seen as essential to the state’s survival. But what happens when even mainstream American Jewish communities start to question not just Israel’s policies, but the very idea of Zionism?

While this may not be breaking news, and while the Israeli government’s own behavior, like its recent efforts to undermine the judiciary, has certainly contributed to the problem, it still marks a generational shift. One that those of us who care about the future of Jewish peoplehood can’t afford to ignore.

As a Zionist, and as the only Israeli active in Colby’s Hillel, I argued to keep the flags up. For me, they weren’t about endorsing a government or erasing Palestinian suffering. They were about acknowledging Israel as a part of Jewish history and identity. Watching them come down anyway was a wake-up call. Even within Jewish spaces, even among fellow Jews, Zionism is no longer assumed. Increasingly, it’s seen as a barrier.

That moment forced me to confront a hard truth: many young American Jews don’t feel a connection to Israel, not anymore. They don’t feel responsible for it, and they don’t feel implicated in its future. And unlike Israelis, they can afford to look away.

Following the release of 21-year-old Israeli-American hostage Edan Alexander, it’s worth remembering that American Jews have a choice in how close they feel to Israel. But 7 million Jews who live in Israel don’t have that choice. They serve. They protest. They endure. And yes, they fight. Because many of them believe, even in a deeply flawed moment, in the idea that a Jewish state is still worth protecting.

The flags came down at Colby. But the question they raised is still hanging in the air: What replaces Zionism in Jewish life when it no longer feels central or even acceptable to our identity?