From the Los Angeles Times
The Israel litmus test
Why do so many American Jews demand
unwavering commitment to Israel from their politicians?
By Aaron David Miller
March 9, 2008
'You're nothing but a self-hating Jew, and your boss is an
anti-Semite." It was the spring of 1990. I was an advisor to
then-Secretary of State James Baker, and I was briefing a Jewish group
from Atlanta -- and I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Baker was
tough on Israel when he needed to be, but he was no anti-Semite. I told
Mr. Atlanta that if he wanted to argue about policy, fine; otherwise,
we should keep the ad hominem out of it.
Almost
20 years later, here we go again. This time, a Democratic candidate for
president, not even the official nominee of his party, is under attack
from some deeply confused and ill-informed American Jews. Again, the
charges of hostility toward Israel are being irresponsibly bandied
about.
Some of this, to be sure, is the seasonal silliness
associated with political campaigns. But the persistent attacks on Sen.
Barack Obama -- and especially on former Clinton administration
official Robert Malley, one of his many informal advisors -- shouldn't
be casually dismissed as crackpot commentary. They reflect two
troubling reactions, or, more precisely, overreactions, within the
American Jewish community that undermine its credibility and harm
American interests in the process.
First, some full
disclosure. I'm not associated with any political campaign and am not
running for anything. For nearly 20 years, I worked at the Department
of State, under Republican and Democratic secretaries of State, on the
Arab-Israeli peace negotiations.
What's more, I am a close
friend of Malley, who served as special assistant to President Clinton
for Arab-Israeli affairs between 1998 and 2001. Malley and I continue
to collaborate on Op-Ed articles and conferences.
In recent
weeks, I've been extremely disturbed to see him attacked as an enemy of
Israel and as an apologist for the late Palestinian leader Yasser
Arafat. Perhaps most offensive, several publications have run personal
attacks on Malley because his father, in the 1960s, founded and edited
a left-wing magazine called Afrique-Asie, which was friendly toward the
Palestine Liberation Organization and other Third World movements.
But
so what? These charges are ridiculous. There's no question that Malley
has been critical of certain Israeli actions and behavior (as have I).
He was criticized, for instance, for an article he wrote in the New
York Review of Books that took issue with the notion that Arafat was
solely responsible for the failure of the Oslo peace process. But he is
not "anti-Israel," let alone the Israel hater his critics portray him
to be. He is well-respected by Arabs and Israelis alike, and he
believes deeply in the idea and the reality of Israel's right to exist
as a sovereign and secure Jewish state. He would never do anything to
jeopardize that.
In a joint letter last month, five of his
longtime colleagues (former Clinton national security advisor Samuel R.
Berger; former U.S. ambassadors to Israel Martin Indyk and Daniel
Kurtzer; former U.S. peace negotiator Dennis Ross; and myself) made
Malley's commitment to Israel unmistakably clear. As for the
mean-spirited guilt-by-association charges having to do with his
family, Malley told the Forward, a Jewish newspaper, that while he
loved and respected his father -- who died in 2006 -- he did not agree
with him on everything.
The attacks on Malley (which are, of
course, really attacks on Obama) don't merely reflect concerns about
the views of a single mid-level advisor; they flow from a deeper
dysfunction. The first piece of that dysfunction is what you might call
the "cosmic oy vey" -- the tendency of many American Jews
active in pro-Israeli causes to worry about everything, without a
capacity to identify what is important and what isn't.
Don't get
me wrong. Jews -- and yes, I am one of them -- worry for a living.
Their history compels them to and to be always vigilant. Yet in
America, where they have achieved a level of security, acceptance and
power unparalleled in their history, their existential worries
paradoxically seem to have grown even greater. When Jimmy Carter writes
a book -- a bad book, incidentally -- comparing Zionism to apartheid,
many American Jews go crazy. When two university professors, Stephen
Walt and John Mearsheimer, write another bad book -- about what they
call "the Israel lobby" -- many Jews react as if the sky is falling.
The
fact is (and many American Jews are reluctant to accept it), the
conflict in the United States between Israel's supporters and its
detractors is over. And the pro-Israel community has won. No figure in
American mainstream politics can be viable without being firmly
supportive of Israel. Americans overwhelmingly back Israel's right to
exist safely and securely as a Jewish state. For reasons of shared
values, as well as strong domestic political support, Israel has become
an organic part of American culture, religion, politics and foreign
policy for Jews and non-Jews alike. Our most recent presidents, Clinton
and George W. Bush, have been the most pro-Israel presidents -- ever.
For
too many American Jews, these successes haven't created a greater sense
of security; they have only persuaded them to keep up the fight to
ensure their good fortune continues. Too often this means stigmatizing
people who criticize, or even question, particular Israeli policies as
detrimental to U.S. interests or to the peace process or to Israel's
security itself. There is a strong tendency even in parts of the
mainstream American Jewish community to interpret any such questioning
-- of the type that occurs every day in Israel itself -- as outright
hostility.
I've lost count of the number of times Jewish
activists or friends have said to me that this official or that
journalist or this academic must be anti-Semitic. On other occasions, I
have been told that I myself should not to be so publicly critical of
Israel, lest we give our enemies grist for their propaganda mills.
This
"us versus them" mentality still runs deep, and it is particularly
harmful when it comes to the Arab-Israeli issue. That conflict is not
some kind of morality play in which the forces of evil do battle
against the forces of light. It is a conflict in which both sides have
legitimate needs and requirements and do both good and bad things in
pursuit of them.
To be called an Israel hater for speaking out
against Israeli actions when they are wrong and counterproductive --
actions such as building settlements and bypass roads or confiscating
land -- or to be called an anti-Semite for suggesting alternative ways
of thinking when the status quo is leading nowhere is not only absurd,
it's dangerous.
In the end, American Jews who impose a litmus
test of boundless commitment to every single Israeli action hurt not
only their community but the United States as well. Israel is a tiny
country living in a dangerous neighborhood. The U.S. and Israel need a
special relationship based on confidence and trust to further their
mutual interests -- but that does not mean we need an exclusive
relationship in which America acquiesces to everything that Israel or
its supporters in the United States think is wise. This is a critical
distinction. One can only hope that, next time around, we are fortunate
enough to get a president and Middle East advisors who understand it.
Aaron
David Miller, who served at the State Department as an advisor to six
secretaries of State, is a scholar at the Woodrow Wilson Center and the
author of the forthcoming "The Much Too Promised Land: America's
Elusive Search for Arab/Israeli Peace."
Copyright 2008 Los Angeles Times