Tommy Robinson's Trip to Israel Reveals a Growing Bond Between the Far Right and the Israeli Government

Tommy Robinson, the founder of the English Defense League and one of Britain's most polarising figures, has travelled to Israel while awaiting a court verdict in the UK. The far-right activist — known for his anti-Muslim campaigns — was invited by Israel's Minister for Diaspora Affairs, Amichai Chikli, according to The Guardian. The trip drew swift criticism from British Jewish groups, who called the invitation 'deeply inappropriate'.

Robinson's politics have always revolved around Islam. For over a decade, he's portrayed himself as a defender of Western civilisation under siege — from refugees, from multiculturalism, from what he calls 'Islamisation'. That message, long condemned in Britain as racist and inflammatory, finds a more sympathetic audience in parts of Israel's nationalist right. In a video shared on social media, Robinson praised Israel for what he called its 'strong, patriotic leadership', telling followers he felt 'respected, not silenced' there.

For many on Israel's far-right, the feeling is mutual. Under Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, the Israeli government has deepened ties with European nationalist movements, including those in Italy, Hungary, and the Netherlands. These relationships are rooted in a shared political language — one of security, borders, and cultural defense. 'Under Netanyahu's leadership, Israel strengthened its ties with Europe's populists and embraced national-interest Euroscepticism to sustain its settlement expansion in the Occupied Palestinian Territories while advancing its broader foreign and domestic agenda', notes Dr Sharon Pardo of Ben-Gurion University.

Robinson's trip isn't unique. France's Marine Le Pen, Italy's Matteo Salvini, and the Netherlands' Geert Wilders have all expressed admiration for Israel's security policies. For them, Israel represents a kind of fortress state — unapologetic about nationalism and unrestrained in its approach to borders and counterterrorism.

That overlap helps explain why Robinson, who once found himself marginalised in British politics, feels at home in Israel's current political climate. The hostility toward Muslims that made him a pariah in the UK becomes, in his view, a sign of shared understanding abroad. Israel offers both ideological validation and visual symbolism: the stronghold, the flag, the walls — a setting where his politics look less fringe and more mainstream.

Still, the visit wasn't without controversy. The Board of Deputies of British Jews condemned the invitation as 'an embarrassment', warning that figures like Robinson exploit Israel for their own agendas. Critics argue that courting Europe's far right risks legitimising xenophobia under the banner of solidarity.

In Jerusalem, Robinson smiled for cameras, walked through markets, and posted captions about 'courage'. His videos attracted hundreds of thousands of views. For a man facing legal troubles and dwindling influence at home, it was a moment of renewed relevance — a chance to reposition himself not as an outlaw, but as a visiting ally in a global fight against Islam.

Robinson didn't go to Israel to hide. He went to be seen in a place where his rhetoric no longer isolates him, but belongs.