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What American Jews fight about when they fight about Israel
(JTA) — Eric Alterman, born in 1960, says the view of Israel he absorbed growing up in a Jewish family in suburban Scarsdale, New York, was decidedly one-sided.
“I went on this nerdy presidential classroom thing when I was in high school,” he recalls, “and some Christian kid from the South raised his hand and said to the rabbi, ‘I don’t get it, if the Jews could have a state, why can’t the Palestinians?’ And I was like, ‘How dare you?’”
Alterman would go on to attend Cornell University, where he wrote his honors thesis on Israel, Vietnam and neoconservatism; spend a semester abroad at Tel Aviv University; study Israeli military history while earning his master’s degree in international relations at Yale, and research a dissertation on American liberalism and the founding of Israel as a doctoral student at Stanford.
Although he frequently writes about Israel as a contributing writer at the Nation and the American Prospect, Alterman is best known for his liberal analysis of the media and U.S. politics. He’s written 11 previous books, including one on Bruce Springsteen.
Yet he never stopped thinking about the widening gap between the idealized Israel of his youth and the reality of its relations with the Palestinians, its Arab neighbors and the West. Even when Israel’s revisionist historians were uncovering evidence of massacres and forced expulsions of Palestinians during the War of Independence, and Israeli politicians and intellectuals began asking why, indeed, the Palestinians didn’t deserve a state of their own, he saw that such discussions were considered blasphemous in most American Jewish circles.
Alterman, now a CUNY Distinguished Professor of English at Brooklyn College, explores that gap in his latest book, “We Are Not One: A History of America’s Fight Over Israel.” The book surveys U.S.-Israel relations, but with a focus on the ways defending Israel have shaped public discourse. It’s a book about arguments: within the administrations of 14 presidents, between Washington and Jerusalem, and mostly among Jews themselves.
Earlier this month we spoke about how the pro-Isael lobby became a powerful political force, the Jewish organizations and pundits who fight to limit the range of debate over Israel, and what he thinks is the high price American Jews have paid for tying their identities so closely to Israel.
“I try to take on shibboleths that in the past have shut down conversation and take them apart and sympathetically show the complexity of the actual situation that lies beneath — so that [criticism and disagreement] over Israel can be understood rather than whisked away by changing the subject, or what-aboutism, or by demonizing the person who is raising them,” said Alterman.
Our conversation was edited for length and clarity.
Jewish Telegraphic Agency: Let me start by congratulating you: It’s the first book about U.S.-Israel relations with a chapter named after a Bruce Springsteen album: “Working on a Dream.”
Eric Alterman: Nobody else has caught that. But it’s not about U.S.-Israel relations. It’s the first book about the debate over Israel in the United States. There’s a million books on U.S.-Israel relations.
So let’s define that more narrowly. The title reminds me of the United Jewish Appeal slogan over the years, “We Are One,” which was about American Jewish solidarity. So who is the “we” in your title, “We Are Not One”?
There are three or four different meanings. The “we” in this book are obviously the United States and Israel. An awful lot of people argue that the United States and Israel have identical interests in the world and that’s crazy, because Israel is this tiny little country in the Middle East and we’re a global superpower thousands of miles away. So obviously, we’re going to have differences. Number two, American Jews and Israeli Jews are very different people. They have very different life experiences. And they see things quite differently as evidenced by the political split between them. The title also refers specifically just to Americans, because we can’t even discuss most things anymore. The pro-Israel community, such as it ever was, is enormously split and it’s split in angry ways.
Much of your book is about what happens to American Jews when the idealized portrait of Israel’s founding and its presumed blamelessness in its actions toward the Palestinians comes up against reality. In that context, tell me a little about your choice to devote a chapter to the Leon Uris novel “Exodus,” an extremely sanitized version of Israel’s founding, and the 1960 movie based on it.
The influence of “Exodus” is something I didn’t understand until I wrote the book. It’s crazy, because Leon Uris was this egomaniac who wrote kind of a shitty book and said that he wanted to add a new chapter to the Bible, and he kind of succeeded. I was born in 1960. When I was growing up in suburban New York, every single family had “Exodus” on their shelves. When the movie came out Israelis understood this. They said, “We can just shut down our public relations office now.” And from the standpoint of reality the movie is worse than the book because it has Nazis — the Arabs in the book are working with Nazism. Uris didn’t have the nerve to do that. So the book created this idealized Israel and this idea of [Palestinians as] evil, subhuman Nazis.
What most Americans don’t understand, or choose not to understand, is that before the 1940s most Jews were anti-Zionist, or non-Zionist. This changed in the 1940s, when, as a result in part of the Holocaust, and the reaction to that, and the triumph of Zionists, they became intensely pro-Zionist, leading up to the creation of Israel. But after that, they kind of forgot about Israel. One might have given their children JNF boxes to carry on Halloween instead of UNICEF boxes, or maybe they paid to plant trees. But Israel doesn’t show up in the American Jewish Committee’s 1966 annual report until page 35 or 36, and Nathan Glazer’s 1957 book “American Judaism” says that the creation of the Jewish state has had “remarkably slight effects on the inner life of American Jewry.”
With the events of 1967, Uris’ idealized notion of Israel came together with this terrible fear of a second Holocaust, and the terror and shame and frightening nature of that combined to transform American Judaism overnight to an enormous degree.
You are referring to Israel’s lightning victory in the Six-Day War, which even non-religious Jews saw as a kind of miracle, and redemption two decades after the Holocaust. And that transformation, you argue, put defense of Israel, combined with Holocaust consciousness, at the center of Jewish identity.
More than just the center: It basically comprised almost all of it, for many secular Jews. I quote the neoconservative Irving Kristol in the book saying in 1976 that “the Holocaust and the founding of the state of Israel” was 100% of what Judaism means.
Which in turn led to a the tremendous pro-Israel lobbying efforts, political activism and punditry.
The budgets of American Jewish organizations overnight went from social services and liberal social justice causes to defense of Israel. And rabbis were replaced at the center of public discourse by the heads of these organizations — most of whom had no religious training or knowledge of history or Judaism.
Joe Biden, then vice president, speaks at the AIPAC 2016 Policy Conference in Washington, DC, March 20, 2016.
(Molly Riley/AFP via Getty Images)
One distinction you repeatedly make is between what most Jews believe compared to the Jewish organizations that claim to represent them. Surveys show the rank and file is consistently more liberal on Israel and less hawkish than the big organizations — a gap that showed up markedly around the Iraq War and the Iran nuclear deal.
Right. The big mistake that so many in the media make is that they go to the heads of these organizations who pretend to speak for American Jews when they don’t speak for American Jews. They speak for their boards and their donors.
The shift to Jewish lobbying on behalf of Israel coincides with an era in which there is seldom daylight between what Israel wants and what the United States wants or agrees to — often to the frustration of presidents. You are critical of those who exaggerate the pro-Israel lobby’s influence — folks like Stephen Walt and John J. Mearsheimer, authors of the 2007 book “The Israel Lobby and U.S. Foreign Policy” — but, at the same time, you write, referring to the Israel debate in America, about “the continued stranglehold that money, power, organizational structure, and clearly defined paths to personal career advancement continue to hold over the shape of foreign policy.” How will you respond to critics who will say your book is trafficking in the myth of Jewish power and its conspiracy-minded hold over American policy?
The short answer is, that’s why I wrote a 500-page book — basically, for two reasons: One, everything is incredibly complicated. And some of those complications are consistent with antisemitic myths, and therefore they have to be teased out and broken down in such a way that you’re telling the truth rather than portraying the myth.
If you say things without context, they sound antisemitic. I say that yes, Jews are very powerful in the media and many use that power on or about Israel. But I think if you lay out the examples that I use, if you look at them and examine them, I don’t see how you can conclude otherwise. The people I describe often say that about themselves — how much power and influence they yield.
Secondly, I’ve always found it just about impossible to discuss Israel with anyone, because you have to share exactly the same assumptions with that person. And if you don’t, then they take it personally, or you’re an antisemite, or, at best, you’re insufficiently sensitive to how important antisemitism is. And if you describe ways in which American Jews act in ways that are consistent with antisemitic myth, it has a way of shutting down the conversation.
Undoubtedly there’s some criticism of Israel that is motivated by antisemitism, but there’s an awful lot of reasons to be critical of Israel, particularly if you are a Palestinian or care about Palestinians. This accusation [antisemitism] has shut down the discourse and part of my hopes in demonstrating the complexities of this history is to open this up.
So let me ask about your own stake in this. Your educational background and relationship to Israel are similar in many ways to the writers and thinkers in your book who tolerate no criticism of Israel. I don’t know if you call yourself a Zionist, but you have some connection to Israel, and you’re also willing to tolerate critiques of Israel. What’s the difference between you and some of the other people who went on the same journey?
For the longest time I was comfortable with the words “liberal Zionist,” but I don’t think they have any meaning anymore. I don’t think it’s possible to be a liberal Zionist — you have to choose. Israel is the only putatively democratic country that prefers Trump to either Obama or Biden, and it’s not even close. And young Israelis are moving further in that direction and young American Jews are moving further in the opposite direction.
So you ask me if I am a liberal Zionist. I don’t think the word “Zionist” is useful at all anymore, because Israel is a country and it’s not going anywhere. I sometimes call myself an anti-anti-Zionist, because anti-Zionism is dumb. I’m very anti-BDS. If I thought [the Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions movement] could end occupation, I would support it, even though the idea of boycotting Jews puts a bad taste in my mouth. But the theory behind BDS apparently, and I’ve spent a lot of time on this, is that the world will force Israel to give up its identity and turn the country over to its enemies. It’s inconceivable that Israel would do that and inconceivable the United States would pressure them to do that. So BDS is entirely performative. It’s more of a political fashion statement than anything else.
And to me, it speaks to the failure of Palestinian politics throughout history. I have a great deal of sympathy for the Palestinians and their bad politics because it’s based on two problems. One is that they have never been able to see the future very well. So they should have agreed in 1921 and 1937, or whenever they would have had the majority and they were being given a country by the British. They should have taken the lousy offer from Ehud Barak and Bill Clinton in 2000. I kind of get it because they have so many competing constituencies, and it’s impossible to satisfy all of them at the same time. I understand that. It’s hard to imagine a Palestinian politician who could say yes, and if you look at Hamas and the Palestinian Authority, in both cases, it’s hard to imagine making peace with them.
I read that in your book, and my first thought was, well, isn’t that basically just confirming what the pro-Israel right has always said — that Israel has no partner for peace? So maybe the best it can do is maintain a status quo that assures some security for Israel and a workable something for the Palestinians.
Well, number one I hold Israel significantly responsible for the conditions under which that has developed and that they can change those. And number two, that’s no excuse for the way Palestinians are treated, either in the occupation or in Israel. So yes, I agree. There’s no one to make peace with today, but there are many steps Israel could take that could vastly improve the lives of the Palestinians, both in the occupied territories and inside Israel. And there are a lot of steps they could take that could build confidence for a future that could weaken Hamas, that could strengthen the Palestinian Authority, so that one day peace would be possible. But they do the opposite.
An Israel supporter at a New York rally to tell the United Nations “no more anti-Israel documents or resolutions,” Jan. 12, 2017. (Don Emmert/AFP via Getty Images)
You talk about funding of Israel studies and Jewish studies departments as a reaction against fears of a pro-Palestinian takeover of academia. At the same time, you write how Palestinian supporters “succeeded in colonizing Middle East studies departments, student faculty organizations, and far-left political organizations.” Why does that matter in the long run if, as you also write, nothing’s really going to change American policy on Israel?
I gave a talk before the book came out at Tel Aviv University and someone asked me that question. I said, You care about these transformations for two reasons. One, you really will be all alone in the world. You’ll have the support of conservative [Evangelical] Christians who are in many respects antisemitic and are using you for their own purposes. So if you lose American Jews, you will be existentially alone in a way you’re not now and that strikes me as very unpleasant.
I do think that the quote-unquote pro-Israel community has a stranglehold on American politics that I can’t see changing anytime soon, and I think the change in the Democratic Party [that it will turn more pro-Palestinian] is very much exaggerated by both sides for their own reasons.
That being said, the people who are being trained now to be in the State Department and the National Security Council and the Defense Department and the think tanks and the places where the intellectual foundation of U.S. policy is made are learning something very different from what you and I learned in college. Right now, there’s no such thing as an influential Palestinian lobby in this country. There’s no pushing back. There’s no percentage for anyone opposing Israel who has a career interest in the future. That will change, and the whole shaping of the discourse will change and that will change the relationship between the United States and Israel. It’s not going to happen anytime soon, but it’s definitely going to happen.
As Jews in this country have remained largely liberal, Israel appears to be getting more illiberal, as we’ve seen with a new government that is more right-wing than any previously. And Israel has become more of a divisive element among Jews than a unifying force. As this gap appears to be widening, do you have any real hope for changing the discourse?
No, I don’t have any hopes for that. I don’t have anything optimistic to say about Israel. I think, politically speaking, from the standpoint of American Jews, everything is going in the wrong direction. But by demonstrating just how different Israeli Jews are than American Jews, and how little Israeli Jews care what American Jews think, I do think that it presents an opportunity for American Jews to think about what it means to be an American Jew in the Diaspora. Roughly half of the Jews in the world live in the United States. And since 1967 American Jews have defined themselves vicariously through Israeli Jews and taking pride in Israel. They expressed their identities by defending Israel and attacking the media when the media didn’t defend Israel.
Meanwhile, American Jews hardly ever go to synagogue. According to Pew, 20% of American Jews regularly attend synagogue and half of them are Orthodox, who are 10% of the community. What brought me back into Judaism was studying Torah. And hardly any American Jews are ever exposed to that.
So I think there’s an opportunity to reimagine Diaspora Jewry now that the Israel story doesn’t work, and it’s clear that it doesn’t work. Young American Jews are leaving or voting with their feet. They’re walking away. Israel-centric Judaism is in part responsible, although it’s not the whole story. Intermarriage is a big part of the story. The de-religionization of all groups is part of the story. But personally, I don’t see what a liberal American Jew would see in a Judaism that defines itself as it has for the past 50 years as defending Israel and remembering the Holocaust.
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The post What American Jews fight about when they fight about Israel appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
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In upcoming Israeli election, Netanyahu is preparing to blame a loss on conspiracy
On the morning of Oct. 7, 2023, retired Maj. Gen. Yair Golan woke to sirens and reports of something terrible happening in southern Israel. At around 8 a.m., as the scale of the Hamas invasion was becoming clear, the former deputy chief of staff told his wife he had to go back to the army, found his old military gear, got dressed and left home. He first drove to the Home Front Command headquarters where he grasped the dimensions of the catastrophe, obtained a weapon, vest and helmet, and continued south in his private car.
Eventually Golan began receiving the locations of young people hiding from Hamas gunmen around the Nova music festival and drove into the fields looking for them. Oz Davidian, the farmer who became one of the civilian heroes of Oct. 7, encountered Golan in a tiny Toyota Yaris that could not cross a ravine. Davidian helped him across in his truck; Golan covered him with his rifle, and together they went looking for three young people hiding from terrorist fire. Golan would ultimately rescue six survivors in three trips.
His actions became one of the day’s extraordinary stories of individual initiative amid the collapse of the Israeli state: a 61-year-old retired general – who currently heads the Democrats, a liberal opposition party dedicated to peace with the Arabs – put on his uniform, climbed into a Toyota and went looking for kids who needed saving. Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, on that dark Saturday, was not heard from until the evening.
Almost three years later, Sara Netanyahu has discovered something sinister in this story.
“When you’re a military man of such high rank,” the prime minister’s wife said in an interview Monday on the fiercely pro-Netanyahu Channel 14, “already early in the morning you were there, already dressed and ready at a very, very early hour when others didn’t know, such as the prime minister?”
She followed this with a sarcastic question: “Who is the prime minister anyway to know that a war is breaking out? Why let him know?”
Asked directly about the increasingly popular theory that there had been “treason” from within Israel on Oct. 7, she left the possibility hanging, saying she wanted a genuine commission of inquiry to establish what happened.
It is the prime minister, of course, who has blocked an inquiry commission. It’s also Netanyahu who in the months preceding the attack refused to meet with the heads of the military, the Mossad and the Shin Bet, who were desperate to warn him that the uproar created by his authoritarian reforms was projecting weakness and inviting attack. Netanyahu is the author of the theory that there is value in Hamas ruling Gaza, since it undermines the West-Bank-based Palestinian Authority. It was his far-right political allies who were planning provocations against Palestinians in the West Bank on Oct. 7, causing the military to divert massive resources there, leaving the Gaza border catastrophically under-guarded.
With the Oct. 27 election fast approaching, Sara Netanyahu’s interview has become the talk of Israeli politics. In the strange calculus of the Netanyahu machine, it hardly matters that the claims make no sense – since there is no dispute about Golan’s aim that day: to fight Hamas and not assist it. There is a bizarre value in the very incoherence – the more confusion, somehow, the better (even if the cost is undermining public faith in the security establishment, in a country facing existential security threats).
Golan threatened to sue Netanyahu for 2.5 million shekels (about $800,000) for defamation and demanded an apology. Netanyahu responded with a demand that Golan apologize to her and threatened a million-shekel countersuit. Opposition politician Avigdor Lieberman, the former defense minister, congratulated Golan for fighting back and described people who spread such conspiracy theories as “psychopaths.”
The uproar reflects a common understanding of the insinuation: Sara Netanyahu was invoking a conspiratorial universe that has been expanding on the Israeli right since the massacre. According to this conspiracy, Oct. 7 represented something more sinister than a catastrophic intelligence and military failure. In this universe, somebody inside Israel betrayed the country.
The theory comes in many variations. Senior officers knew what was coming. The Shin Bet knew. The generals deliberately kept Netanyahu in the dark. Leaders of the anti-government protest movement were somehow involved. Elements of a hostile “deep state” wanted Hamas to humiliate Netanyahu and bring down his government. The genuine mysteries, warnings and failures preceding the massacre supply endless material from which insinuations can be fashioned, transforming the most devastating security failure in Israeli history into a story of deliberate betrayal by Netanyahu’s domestic enemies.
The betrayal theory has steadily traveled from social media and fringe broadcasters toward the political mainstream. A Reichman University survey previously found that almost a third of Israelis believed to some degree that elements within Israel assisted Hamas in order to harm Netanyahu. Likud Knesset member Tally Gotliv has accused security officials, protest leaders and other political enemies of varieties of treachery, while the prime minister’s son Yair has repeatedly promoted suspicions about the security establishment’s conduct surrounding the attack.
From conspiracy to campaign
This week brought the conspiracy theory directly into the election campaign. Channel 12 political correspondent Daphna Liel reported, citing a Likud source, that an intentional campaign is underway to promote Oct. 7 conspiracy theories in order to distance Netanyahu from responsibility for the massacre “at all costs.”
Golan himself described the same pattern after Sara Netanyahu’s interview, arguing that the remarks represented a planned effort in which Netanyahu’s political opponents are branded as traitors and conspiracy theories supply the evidence.
This fits neatly into Netanyahu’s fixation with avoiding the blame for Oct. 7 – and it comes amid a wider context: The Netanyahu political machine has spent years cultivating distrust of the police, prosecutors, judges, journalists, civil servants and military commanders who come into conflict with the prime minister. The Oct. 7 betrayal narrative folds the greatest catastrophe in Israeli history into this already familiar worldview.
The episode fits an election campaign already distinguished by extraordinary personal ugliness. Netanyahu has circulated an AI-generated video depicting his principal challenger, former IDF chief Gadi Eisenkot, running toward a young man wearing a shirt bearing the words “Israeli unity,” only to run past him and embrace Mansour Abbas, leader of the Arab Ra’am party. The young man in the commercial bore sufficient resemblance to Eisenkot’s son Gal, who was killed fighting in Gaza in December 2023, provoking outrage over what many Israelis saw as an exploitation of Eisenkot’s bereavement. The underlying message of the video was that Eisenkot’s willingness – very much felicitous in a country whose population is one-fifth Arab – to cooperate politically with Arab Israelis amounted to treason.
The same campaign has returned repeatedly to the proposition that Netanyahu’s opponents depend upon hostile or alien forces. A Likud billboard displayed New York Mayor Zohran Mamdani alongside the leaders of Iran, Hezbollah and Turkey beneath the slogan: “They want Netanyahu to lose. Don’t let them win.”
Former Netanyahu allies from the right increasingly describe a political culture in which ordinary democratic rivalry has been replaced by a language of enemies, traitors and conspirators amid an obsession to cling to power.
Naftali Bennett, another former leader of the Israeli right, has warned that the “poison machine” surrounding Netanyahu has grown sufficiently toxic to create the possibility of physical violence against political opponents.
Lieberman’s furious response to the Golan affair comes from the same place. The strategy presents an obvious electoral paradox. Netanyahu enters this campaign needing precisely the voters this rhetoric is likely to repel. Polls have repeatedly given the parties opposed to him a substantial advantage, with most surveys forecasting the broader anti-Netanyahu bloc above 70 of the Knesset’s 120 seats – a landslide by Israeli standards.
The route back to 61 – the number of seats Netanyahu needs to stay in power – therefore runs through Israelis outside Netanyahu’s committed base, with voters who in many cases are security-minded, suspicious of the Palestinians, uncomfortable with the traditional left and deeply critical of the military and intelligence leadership for the failures of Oct. 7.
Netanyahu’s campaign increasingly appears designed to intensify the worldview of the committed rather than soften it for the persuadable. Persuadable voters can readily believe that generals failed catastrophically, that intelligence officials succumbed to groupthink, that the protest movement behaved irresponsibly or that Netanyahu’s opponents have pursued him obsessively. A claim that Yair Golan’s rescue missions indicate advance knowledge of the Hamas attack asks them to enter a considerably stranger universe.
Netanyahu has spent years turning political conflict into an existential contest in which his supporters defend their democratic choice against hostile “elites” and institutions. The betrayal theory takes this to its logical destination by placing the catastrophe of Oct. 7 itself inside the conspiracy.
Striking similarities
Here the comparison with Donald Trump goes considerably deeper than the familiar spectacle of a populist leader attacking judges, prosecutors or unfavorable election results. In both the United States and Israel, something profound has happened to the traditional conservative relationship with the state. Institutions once revered because they embodied national continuity — the military, intelligence services, law enforcement, the courts and the permanent civil service — increasingly become suspect whenever they demonstrate that their loyalty runs to the country and its laws rather than to the political leader who temporarily governs it.
For generations, the right in both countries occupied almost the opposite position. American conservatives wrapped themselves in the FBI, the armed forces and the authority of the state, while Israeli conservatives placed enormous cultural weight on the IDF and the security services as guardians of the Jewish state. The populist transformation has turned this on its head, producing a peculiar new mutation in which loyalty to the state becomes subordinate to loyalty to a leader who claims to embody the state.
Thus, a general who has devoted his life to Israel but challenges Netanyahu can become the target of a sinister conspiracy theory vehiculated by the prime minister’s wife on a propaganda channel.
The Oct. 7 conspiracy theories represent an especially extreme version of this logic. Israel’s military and intelligence establishment can be accused of having tolerated or even facilitated the greatest massacre in the country’s history because such a theory shifts responsibility away from Netanyahu and toward the institutions whose independence has become a political problem for him. Once such a proposition enters ordinary political discourse, distrust of judges, civil servants and election administrators requires a comparatively modest leap of imagination.
The connection to the coming election follows directly from this inversion. A public taught that generals and intelligence chiefs were capable of concealing an impending invasion from the prime minister has already been asked to believe in a conspiracy vastly more elaborate than anything required to manipulate an election.
A public taught that judges, prosecutors, police, journalists, civil servants and opposition politicians have joined a campaign to overthrow its chosen leader has been supplied with an explanation for almost any future defeat. Victory can be presented as the triumph of the people over the establishment; defeat can be interpreted as further evidence of the establishment’s power.
Israel already entered this campaign amid extraordinary anxiety about the integrity of the coming election. Earlier this summer, former Prime Minister Ehud Barak publicly warned that Netanyahu might attempt to sabotage it. Supreme Court Justice Noam Solberg, chairman of the Central Elections Committee, has discussed the narrow legal circumstances under which a genuine national emergency could justify postponing a vote. Golan has warned about attempts to alter election rules and announced plans for extensive monitoring of the vote. Scenarios that would have sounded fantastical during most of Israel’s history have entered ordinary political discussion as Netanyahu approaches an election that threatens to end his extraordinarily long political career.
Oct. 7 vs. Oct. 27
Trump’s experience shows how this political logic can operate when an election finally produces the wrong answer. His campaign against the legitimacy of American elections began years before Jan. 6, 2021, through the repeated proposition that an election system capable of producing his defeat must itself be fraudulent. By the time the 2020 election arrived, millions of supporters already possessed an explanation for a Trump loss. The epistemological groundwork had been laid. Victory demonstrated the people’s will, while defeat demonstrated the conspiracy.
Netanyahu operates in a different political system and national culture, but his increasingly conspiratorial campaign is constructing a comparable political logic in Israel. The institutions capable of declaring that he has lost overlap increasingly with the institutions his supporters are being taught to distrust. The judges belong to the hostile legal establishment; the civil servants belong to the bureaucracy; the media cannot be believed; the security establishment might have betrayed the country on Oct. 7; political opponents may themselves have participated in the conspiracy. A movement immersed in this worldview enters Election Day with an explanation already available should the voters remove its leader.
The transformation of Yair Golan’s Oct. 7 story captures where these politics lead. On the worst morning in Israel’s history, thousands of citizens waited desperately for a state that had disappeared. Reservists, retired officers, farmers, police officers and ordinary people rushed south to fill the vacuum. Golan put on his uniform, found a weapon, climbed into his little Toyota and drove toward the massacre, eventually helping rescue young Israelis hiding from Hamas gunmen in the fields.
Three years later, the prime minister’s wife points to the speed with which he responded as grounds for suspicion, turning evidence of initiative into an insinuation of foreknowledge. The same political method turns military failure into treason, institutional independence into disloyalty and political opposition into subversion. Carried through an election campaign, the logic has one further destination: electoral defeat itself can become another suspicious event requiring explanation.
Much of the Israeli center recoiled from Sara Netanyahu’s interview because the innuendo seemed grotesque. The larger danger lies in the political culture being constructed around precisely such innuendo, one in which patriotism is measured by loyalty to a leader and every person or institution standing between Benjamin Netanyahu and continued power can be cast as part of the plot.
In this sense, Oct. 27 is emerging as a perhaps ever more fateful date than Oct. 7. If the Netanyahu machine is not decisively routed, it is not at all clear that the country can recover as a democracy where the discourse is sane.
The post In upcoming Israeli election, Netanyahu is preparing to blame a loss on conspiracy appeared first on The Forward.
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‘New year, play a happy tune’
צום נײַעם יאָר שיקן מיר אַ באַגריסונג צו די לייענער מיט אַ וווּנטש זיי זאָלן זיך אויסבעטן אַ גוט־יאָר — אַ יאָר פֿון גליק, געזונט, מזל און שלום. זאָל דעם ייִדישן פֿאָלק באַשערט זײַן צו לעבן אין פֿרידלעכע צײַטן און זאָל דער פֿאָרווערטס ממשיך זײַן, ווי ביז אַהער, זײַן ראָלע ווי אַ שײַנטורעם פֿון ליכט פֿאַרן ייִדישן פֿאָלק. מיר ברענגען ווײַטער עטלעכע מוסטערן פֿון דער פּאָעזיע וואָס ייִדישע פּאָעטן האָבן געשאַפֿן לכּבֿוד ראָש־השנה אין פֿאַרשיידענע צײַטן.
(ח. מ.)
לשנה טובֿה תּכּתבֿו
פֿון י. ל. פּרץ
לשנה טובֿה תּכּתבֿו!
אַלע, אַלע, וווּ איר זײַט!
צי אײַך האָט דאָס האַרטע מזל
אויף אַ וויסטן סטעפּ פֿאַרשפּרייט!
צי איר קילט די הייסע שטערן
בײַ דער נאַסער מערבֿ־וואַנט,
צי איר שיפֿט אײַך איבער ימען
צו אַ נײַ פֿאַרשפּראָכן לאַנד!
צי איר טראָגט דעם יאָך דעם שווערן
מיט אַ שמייכל: אײַ, ווי גרינג!
און איר קויפֿט די לופֿט צו לעבן
און איר צאָלט פֿאַר יעדן שלינג!
אַלע אײַך צום יאָר צום נײַעם —
יעדער שפּראַך און יעדעס קלייד —
לשנה טובֿה תּכּתבֿו!
אַלע, אַלע, וווּ איר זײַט!
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ראָש־השנה
פֿון ב. י. ביאַלאָסטאָצקי
עס קלאַפּט אין טיר אַ נײַער יאָר:
— איך קום צו אײַך מיט פֿריידן נאָר.
דאָס הויז ווערט אָנגעפֿילט מיט שײַן.
— לשנה טובֿה, קום אַרײַן!
און ס׳רעדט דאָס נײַע יאָר און זאָגט:
„— גענוג געוויינט, גענוג געקלאָגט.
איר האָט געליטן לאַנג, צו לאַנג,
שוין צײַט צו זינגען אַ געזאַנג.
איך ברענג אײַך גוטס, נאָר איר אַליין
דאַרפֿט זײַן אין האַרץ אויך גוט און ריין.
אַ מענטש צו מענטש דאַרף ברודער זײַן,
און אויס מיט קריג, און אויס מיט פּײַן.“
מיר הערן צו די רייד זיך צו,
דער שופֿר בלאָזט: טרו־טרו־טרו.
די באָבע בעט און מורמלט פֿרום:
לשנה טובֿה, קום שוין, קום.
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לשנה טובֿה
פֿון ישׂראל גובקין
צי איר רעדט העברעיִש,
ייִדיש, אַראַמיש;
צי איר רעדט כינעזיש,
צי גאָר פּאָרטוגעזיש.
צי איר וווינט אין כינע,
צי אין אַרגענטינע;
צי איר וווינט אין בעמען,
צי אין ווײַטן יעמען.
וואָס איר זאָלט נישט רעדן,
וווּ איר זאָלט נישט זײַן,
ייִדן־קינדער זײַט איר,
קינדער קליין און פֿײַן.
שיק איך אײַך פֿון ווײַטנס
ברכות אָן אַ צאָל.
ווינטש איך אײַך שוין ווידער,
זאָג איך נאָך אַ מאָל:
לשנה טובֿה תּכּתבֿו!
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ראָש־השנה
פֿון אַבֿרהם זאַק
ס׳קומט ווידער אונדזער ראָש־השנה,
אַ נײַער יאָר קומט ווידער —
מיט שאַל פֿון תּקיעות אין די שילן,
מיט אַלטע תּפֿילה־לידער.
עס שטייען ייִדן אין טליתים,
עס בעטן ייִדן פֿרומע,
און ס׳טראָגן זיך אַוועק די תּפֿילות
הויך צו די הימלען שטומע.
דער חזן זינגט — ס׳אַראַ מתיקות
נעמט דורך די גאַנצע עדה,
זינגט־מיט דער טאַטע אינעם טלית,
אין קיטל זינגט דער זיידע.
און אַלע זײַנען איצט מכוון:
אַ יאָר פֿון פֿרייד און פֿרידן —
פֿאַר אונדזער ייִדישער מדינה,
פֿאַר אַלע, אַלע ייִדן.
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נײַ־יאָר
פֿון שמעון פֿרוג
נײַ־יאָר — שפּיל, מײַן אַלטע פֿידל!
שפּיל אַ נײַ, פֿריילעך לידל,
זינג אַ נײַעם, זיסן שיר —
דײַנע סטרונעס זאָלן קלינגען,
אַלע הערצער זאָלן זינגען,
זינגען, פֿרייען זיך מיט דיר…
און די פֿידל ענטפֿערט:
— אויף אַ בוים בײַם טײַך פֿון בבֿל
בין געהאָנגען איך אַמאָל,
און נאָר קלאָגן ווי אַן אָבֿל
קאָן פֿון דעמאָלט אָן מײַן קול…
ניין. איך האָב קיין נײַע לידער,
אַלטע קען איך, ליבע ברידער
דאָרט, בײַם גרויסן אַלטן טײַך
האָב איך זיי געהערט פֿאַרצײַטן
און אויף אַלע נײַע צײַטן
איינס נאָר ווינטשן וועל איך אײַך:
מיט זײַן ליבע, מיט זײַן טרײַהייט
זאָל גאָט שענקען אײַך צוריק
אײַער אַלטע קראַפֿט און פֿרײַהייט,
אײַער אַלטע גליק…
The post ‘New year, play a happy tune’ appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
How Hamas still holds Gaza captive
Almost 10 months after the October 2025 President Trump‑brokered ceasefire and hostage‑release agreement that formally ended the war between Israel and Hamas, the conflict is anything but over.
For there to be real progress, both sides of this discourse need to confront an uncomfortable truth: Palestinians retain real agency even within a profound power imbalance, and Hamas — not just Israeli policy — bears direct responsibility for wrecking Gaza and the Palestinian national project. That means an honest reckoning with a pattern of strategic miscalculation running from the Second Intifada through Oct. 7, and a clear-eyed recognition that until Hamas’s grip on Gaza is broken, two million Palestinians remain its hostages as much as anyone else’s.
Gaza’s conditions continue to deteriorate. What was meant to launch a phased transitional process is paralyzed. The Trump‑created Board of Peace has achieved almost none of its stated objectives. Gaza remains largely destroyed, with the Israeli military now controlling nearly two‑thirds of the territory, expanding well beyond the original “Yellow Line.” Hamas, the fascistic terror group whose catastrophic Oct. 7, 2023 attack unleashed unprecedented suffering on Palestinians in Gaza, is vastly weakened but still rules a third of the Strip, where two million people remain trapped under its totalitarian grip.
Equally troubling is the state of discourse around Israel and Palestine, especially in Western societies like the United States. Many who call themselves “pro‑Palestine” have refused, out of negligence, ignorance, or deliberately, to confront Hamas’s narrative, behavior, and agenda. Yet they played a significant role in worsening and escalating the discourse, promoting overtly pro‑Hamas ideas under slogans of “resistance” while normalizing or excusing the group’s criminality, history, and anti-Palestinian behavior for nearly two years after Oct. 7.
On the other side, many who identify as “pro‑Israel,” whether they are diaspora Jews, non-Jews or Israelis, have insisted on treating or considering all Gazans as Hamas — either supporters of the terror group, endorsers of its actions, or perpetual enemies of Jewish existence. Whether due to dehumanization, misinformation, or difficulty parsing complex evidence, many could not grasp that Gazans, despite their contemporary grievances with Israeli policy or historic ones with Zionism, were deeply antagonistic toward Hamas long before Oct. 7 and have turned against the terror group en masse since then.
As a Palestinian who spent much of his childhood in Gaza, and lost many family members in Israeli attacks, I want to reach both these camps: those who consider themselves pro‑Palestine, as well as those in the pro-Israel camp who need to see how Israeli policy choices have influenced Hamas’s rise and control in Gaza.
For the pro-Palestine group, introspection, accountability, and soul-searching are urgently needed to assess historic and contemporary Palestinian failures, including Oct. 7, the latest tragic iteration of strategic miscalculation. Hamas has catastrophically damaged the Palestinian national project, destroying hopes for statehood, weakening pragmatic leadership, empowering far-right forces in Israel, and eroding Palestinian values and social cohesion from within. Yes, there is an imbalance of power between Israel and the Palestinians. But within that imbalance exists meaningful space for Palestinian agency. Acknowledging this is not “blaming the victims,” as detractors claim; it is the first step toward empowering Palestinians to make decisions and choices that improve their prospects and outcomes.
Needed: An honest critique of Hamas
Hamas embedded itself across Gazan society by weaponizing religion and social services, especially in the refugee camps that had become mini-cities. Crucially, and often forgotten, Hamas’s first victims were Palestinians, not Israelis — only after 1987 did Israel become its primary target.
I watched the group’s rise in Gaza City firsthand, including encounters my own family had with senior Hamas figures, without falling into its grip. The Second Intifada, the 2005 disengagement, and Hamas’s violent takeover on June 14, 2007 — the very day I had my U.S. political asylum interview, making me the first Gazan granted asylum on the basis of Hamas’s control of the territory — are the hinge points that led to Oct. 7.
As I lay out at greater length in my new book, Hamas and Its Two Million Hostages, this is a story of Oslo’s optimism curdling into the trauma of the Second Intifada, the collapse of the political process, and Hamas’s steady rise to power. Much of today’s pro-Palestinian discourse is saturated with critique of Israel but starved of honest critique of Hamas, and of the Palestinian leaders, groups, and elites who have failed and even betrayed their own people.
The “pro‑Palestine” community, especially diaspora Arabs, Muslims, and Palestinians in the U.S., refuses to face this reality. A recent Pew survey found that 44% of American Muslims say they support Hamas, a figure that is likely an undercount based on my negative experiences in trying to promote the kind of perspectives I offer here. An April poll found that over 40% of Americans aged 18 to 34 said they supported Hamas over Israel.
My plea to the pro-Palestinian movement
These numbers prove pro‑Palestine discourse is in shambles. Failed, ineffective, and morally reprehensible types of armed “resistance” like taking women and children as hostages on Oct. 7 are glorified. Hamas is excused, supported, and whitewashed. Extreme anti‑Zionism is now the mainstream, increasingly merging seamlessly with antisemitism. And there is no realism or pragmatism; no viable solutions that actually help Gazans, and a discourse that is completely detached from the very people it proclaims to champion.
The gap between what Gazans think, feel, want, and believe is wider than ever from the majority of the pro-Palestine and anti-Zionist movements in the Western world. When Hamas tortures, beats, kills, and abuses Gazans, they are ignored at best, or labeled collaborators, traitors, and worthy of execution at worst. For the most part, Palestinians in Gaza have devolved into being mere pawns — convenient elements of broader anti-Western, post-colonial, anti-capitalist, and social-justice narratives that have little to do with actually helping Gazans.
This is a plea to those who genuinely care about the Palestinian people: learn the bare minimum about the most destructive force in contemporary Palestinian history. Separate the Palestinian people’s just and urgent aspirations for freedom and prosperity from Hamas, Jihadi Islamism and violent extremism. Until that is done, Hamas will continue to hold two million hostages in Gaza.
The post How Hamas still holds Gaza captive appeared first on The Forward.
