By Eric Vandenbroeck and co-workers
Can America’s Special Relationship With
Israel Survive?
On May 8, the Biden
administration confirmed that it was withholding a major weapons shipment to
the Israel Defense Forces. It was the biggest step that the United States has
taken in decades to restrain Israel’s actions. The decision concerned a consignment
of 2,000-pound bombs—weapons that the United States generally avoids in urban
warfare, and which White House officials believed that Israel would use in its
Rafah operation in the Gaza Strip—and did not affect other weapons transfers.
Nonetheless, the administration’s willingness to employ measures that could
materially constrain Israel’s behavior reflected its growing frustration with
Israel’s nearly eight-month-old war in Gaza.
But the announcement
also underscored something else: the growing partisan divide within the United
States over Israel. For months, some Democratic leaders in Congress and many
Democratic voters felt that the administration was far too indulgent of Israel’s
conduct in the war, which they believe it enabled with overwhelming military,
financial, and political support. On the other side, Biden’s decision on the
bombs was excoriated by dozens of Republican members of Congress, who have
called him a “pawn for Hamas” and a “terrible friend to Israel.” On May 19,
Republican Representative Elise Stefanik, of New York, went further, traveling
to Jerusalem and publicly denouncing Biden’s policy in a meeting with a caucus
of the Israeli Knesset.
Washington prides
itself on its tradition of bipartisan support for Israel, but in reality a
partisan gap has been growing for years. Democratic voters, and younger
Americans generally, have become critical of Israel’s long-standing denial of
Palestinian human rights and national self-determination. Israeli Prime
Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s populist, illiberal policies and his theocratic
governing-coalition allies have alienated them further. On the other hand,
Republicans and many religious conservatives have seized on support for
Israel—including unrestrained backing for right-wing Israeli governments—as an
article of faith, and, increasingly, a political litmus test.
The increasingly
partisan reading of the bilateral relationship isn’t only on the American side.
Despite the Biden administration’s strong support for Israel after October 7
and through much of the war—and despite the fact that a large majority of
American Jews have traditionally voted Democratic—Israelis show that they
prefer Donald Trump to Joe Biden by a wide margin. Unlike in past decades, a
majority of Israelis also approve of their leaders’ defying U.S. policy
preferences. And it’s not clear that these majorities are much concerned about
a rupture in the U.S.-Israeli relationship or that Israeli defiance might one
day jeopardize the extensive military aid on which Israel relies.
The growing friction
between Israelis and Americans didn’t emerge with the current war in Gaza.
Longer-term social and political trajectories in both countries suggest that
the famous “shared values” that have for decades underpinned the relationship
were already under pressure. But the war has brought this tension, and the
partisan politics driving it, into full view. This does not mean that the
countries are on a collision course, but it raises important questions about
the nature of alliance for the years to come.
Friendship First
To understand the
significance of the current rift, it is important to recall that the
U.S.-Israeli alliance has weathered many disagreements over the decades. In the
past, each side presumed that the underlying relationship was sufficiently
solid to absorb tensions or even crises. A U.S. administration that pushed back
on Israeli behavior or demanded significant concessions might
generate controversy, but opinion surveys, where available, indicated that the
Israelis generally deferred to the Americans, regardless of who was in the
White House. (Unless otherwise specified, historic data cited here comes from
the Data Israel resource, hosted by the Israel Democracy Institute.)
Take the Carter
administration. Breaking with decades of U.S. policy, in 1977, President Jimmy
Carter became the first U.S. president to speak publicly about the need for a
Palestinian homeland, in an unscripted remark at a Massachusetts town hall
meeting. The idea was anathema to Israeli Jews at the time. In a survey taken
two years earlier, 70 percent of them supported a boycott of the Palestinian
Liberation Organization at the United Nations. Even Stuart Eizenstat, who was
Carter’s chief domestic policy adviser and heavily involved in the
administration’s Middle East policy, was caught by surprise. “I nearly fell off
my bench,” he recalled in an interview.
Nonetheless, in 1978,
Carter hosted the Camp David negotiations between Egypt and Israel, cajoling
Israel to make an unpopular land withdrawal from the Sinai, which it had
occupied after the 1967 Arab-Israeli war, and putting the Palestinian issue
squarely on the negotiating agenda. And when Israeli Jews were asked that
September how much they trusted Carter, almost two-thirds said that they
trusted him somewhat or a great deal. During President Ronald Reagan’s first
few months in office, a similarly large majority, between 63 and 70 percent of
Israeli Jews, said that they trusted him regarding Israel. (Unfortunately for
researchers, the limited surveys of Israel’s Arab citizens at the time were
separate from surveys of Jewish Israelis, and usually asked different
questions.)
Secretary of State
Antony Blinken and President Joe Biden meeting with Israeli Prime Minister
Benjamin Netanyahu and other Israeli officials, Tel Aviv, October 2023
President Bill
Clinton also maintained wide support in Israel, even when he was advocating for
unpopular policies. In 1994, a year after the controversial Oslo accords were
signed, 65 percent of Israelis said they were somewhat or very satisfied with
Clinton. In the coming year, Israel lived through a wave of suicide bombings
and the assassination of its prime minister, and there was sufficient concern
about the accords that Israelis elected Netanyahu; nonetheless, support for
Clinton remained.
In the summer of
2000, days before Clinton hosted the Camp David summit between Israeli Prime
Minister Ehud Barak and Palestinian Authority chairman Yasir Arafat, surveys I
conducted as an analyst for Stan Greenberg, who was advising Barak, found that
nearly the same portion, two-thirds of Israeli Jews, gave Clinton a favorable
rating. This was despite the fact that Israelis knew the United States would
press for significant and highly controversial Israeli concessions to the
Palestinians. Even after the talks collapsed and the second intifada broke out,
Clinton remained popular.
Moreover, an Israeli
leader who defied a U.S. president too brazenly could face serious political
consequences at home. In early 1992, U.S. Secretary of State James Baker
threatened to withhold U.S. loan guarantees to deter right-wing Israeli leader
Yitzhak Shamir from using the funds to build settlements. Shamir’s government
rejected the U.S. terms, and the rift was widely reported to have contributed
to Shamir’s loss in the 1992 Israeli election. His successor, Yitzhak Rabin,
ushered in a left-leaning government that quickly agreed to cease settlement
expansion in certain areas and broke the impasse with the United States
(although settlement growth ultimately continued).
But it’s not at all
clear that these patterns hold true today. Despite Biden’s sweeping support for
Israel after the October 7 attack and throughout the war, Israelis have shown
only lukewarm approval. In November 2023 and January 2024, studies from the Israel
Democracy Institute reminded Israeli respondents that Biden had offered
unyielding support, and then asked them if Israel should meet some U.S. demands
in return; in both surveys, a larger number (a plurality) of Israelis said that
Israel should make its own decisions rather than coordinate with
Washington.
And in mid-March, an
opinion survey for Israel’s News 12 network found that Israelis preferred Trump
to Biden in the 2024 U.S. presidential election by 14 points: 44 percent for
Trump, versus just 30 percent for Biden. This was well before the administration
had announced the decision to withhold the weapons shipment and just before the
administration said that it would sanction a small number of violent West Bank
settlers.
As in the case of
U.S. attitudes about Israel’s leadership, Israeli attitudes about U.S.
administrations also align to a significant degree with political affiliation:
in the News 12 poll, nearly three-quarters of those who support Netanyahu’s
coalition said that they preferred Trump, whereas 55 percent of those who
support parties opposed to Netanyahu preferred Biden. In fact, this partisan
divide reflects the culmination of social and political forces that have been
underway in both Israel and the United States for years.
Democratic Discontent
In the months
preceding Biden’s announcement about delaying the weapons shipment, Democratic
discontent with Israel’s war in Gaza was running high. Progressive members of
Congress were pressing the Biden administration to take a tougher stand against
Netanyahu’s policies. And this past March, Senate Majority Leader Chuck
Schumer—a centrist Democrat and well-known Israel supporter—broke precedent to
publicly criticize Netanyahu and call for early Israeli elections. Parts of the
Democratic electorate, especially younger Americans and those on the left, have
been at least as vocal as politicians in criticizing the war. Notably, weeks
before Biden made his announcement about withholding the 2,000-pound bombs, a
poll found that a large majority of Democrats, and a bare majority of all
Americans, supported halting weapons shipments to Israel.
But these
developments also reflect longer-term trends in U.S. opinion about Israel. It’s
important to note that, as in previous decades, a firm majority of Americans
support Israel. Netanyahu himself has cited a Harvard CAPS / Harris Poll from
March that found that 82 percent of American adults support Israel over Hamas
in the current war. The following month, a Harvard CAPS / Harris Poll found
that 52 percent of Americans gave Israel a “favorable” or “very favorable”
rating, compared to just 16 percent for the Palestinian Authority—and 14
percent for Hamas (a figure that is perhaps surprisingly high, though the group
ranked dead last in favorability on a list of 18 countries or groups). Even
among college and university students, whose pro-Palestinian protests have been
widely covered, opinions on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict are far more
measured than has often been portrayed in the media. For example, a survey
conducted in early May for Axios found that 83 percent—an overwhelming
majority—of U.S. college and university students believe that Israel has a
right to exist.
Counter-protesters in
front of a Pro-Palestinian student encampment, Seattle, May 2024
Yet Americans have
become increasingly critical of Israeli policies toward the Palestinians.
According to Gallup polling, the overall portion of Americans who side with
Israel over the Palestinians has declined from 64 percent in 2018 to just 51
percent in early 2024. Pew surveys have also revealed a growing partisan gap on
this question. In 2001, just 50 percent of Republicans sided with Israel; by
2018, the number had increased to 79 percent; conversely, among Democrats,
those who chose Israel shrunk from 38 percent in 2001 to just 27 percent in
2018. This divergence seems only to have solidified in the years since.
At the same time, a
large generational divide has also emerged in American views about Israel. A
February 2024 survey by Pew found that 78 percent of older Americans (over 65)
see Israel’s reasons for fighting the war as valid, whereas just 38 percent of
18- to 29-year-olds do—a 40-point gap. And although students in the Axios
survey overwhelmingly agreed with Israel’s right to exist, nearly half of
them—45 percent—supported the campus protests “which seek to boycott and
protest against Israel,” whereas only 24 percent were opposed. (The remainder
were neutral.) The Harvard CAPS / Harris Poll from April also found that
respondents between 18 and 24 years old were almost evenly divided between
those who believed that Israel was mostly responsible for “the crisis in Gaza”—
49 percent—and those who held Hamas mostly responsible—51 percent. By contrast,
among people over 65, just 14 percent blamed Israel.
Regardless of how one
interprets the behavior of young Americans during the current war, these trends
should not be surprising: in most of the Western world, young people tend to
skew liberal and progressive. And in Western countries, liberal or left-leaning
politics tends to involve supporting oppressed people, a pattern that has
helped fuel pro-Palestinian protests by young Americans. The political
preferences of young people are sure to evolve over time, but the trends are
sufficiently established to suggest the future direction of Democratic
positions on Israel. Notably, the progressive tilt of young people in the West
appears to be the opposite of where young Israelis are moving.
Bibi’s Young Guns
For at least 15
years, in-depth studies have shown firm right-wing trends among young Israeli
Jews. There are two immediate explanations for this phenomenon. One is
demographics: more young Israeli Jews are religious than was the case in
earlier decades because religious families tend to have many children, and
religious Jews are reliably more right-wing than less religious Jews in Israel.
The second is the prevailing political environment in Israel during the past
two decades: young Israelis today have grown up in the heavily nationalist
right-wing era of Netanyahu. They carry no memories of the Oslo years or a
peace process and have plenty of experience of war, having grown up amid
numerous rounds of fighting with Hamas, frequent rocket attacks, and waves of
conflict-related violence.
In fact, the
rightward tilt of younger Israeli voters has closely coincided with Netanyahu’s
own efforts to make the U.S.-Israeli relationship more partisan. Shortly after
Netanyahu returned to power in 2009, a plurality of Israelis held positive
views of President Barack Obama, more than those who held negative views. But
Netanyahu and his proxies began systematically attacking Obama—tellingly, for
taking positions that were close to a policy consensus at the time, such as the
president’s 2011 support for a two-state solution using the 1967 borders, the
1949 armistice lines, with adjustments. Netanyahu’s accusations ricocheted back
to the United States, where Mitt Romney, the Republican nominee for president
in 2012, accused Obama of “throwing Israel under the bus.”
In 2015, Netanyahu
took an even bigger gamble: breaking a long-standing taboo, he delivered a
speech in Congress at the unilateral invitation of Republican lawmakers, in
which he made a broadside attack on the Obama administration’s efforts to
secure a deal with Iran to rein in its nuclear program. Why did Netanyahu play
roulette with Israel’s most essential ally? He was facing a cutthroat
reelection bid at the time, and he wagered that his global statesmanship, even
if it meant directly challenging a U.S. president (perhaps especially so) would
actually help his campaign.
Israeli Prime
Minister Benjamin Netanyahu preparing to address Congress, Washington, D.C.,
March 2015
Netanyahu was mostly
right. With Israeli society firmly trending right-ward by the mid-2010s, he won
the Israeli election handily (though there can be numerous explanations), and
the insult to Obama did not dissuade the president from signing what was at the
time one of the biggest U.S. aid packages in history—$38 billion for Israel,
over ten years.
When Trump was
elected president, in 2016, Netanyahu portrayed him as Israel’s best friend.
“Pro-Israel” soon came to mean embracing Trump’s policies: humiliating the
Palestinians, proposing plans for Israel to annex parts of the West Bank,
recognizing Israeli sovereignty over the Golan Heights, and moving the U.S.
embassy to Jerusalem. In retrospect, given the record of the Trump
administration toward Israel, it is not surprising that Israelis viewed him
favorably.
By contrast,
even before he entered the Oval Office, Biden’s lifelong record as a devoted
pro-Israel Democrat left many Israelis cold. In October 2020, ahead of the U.S.
election that year, a survey conducted by the Israel Democracy Institute (IDI)
found that 63 percent of Israelis preferred to see Trump reelected; just 17
percent preferred Biden. Following Biden’s victory, an even larger percentage
of Israelis—73 percent—said that Biden was likely to be somewhat or much worse
than Trump for Israel, according to another IDI poll.
These figures make
clear that it’s not just the current tensions over the war in Gaza that are
contributing to Biden’s low levels of support in Israel, but also deeper
changes within the Israeli electorate. Moreover, after the war, Israel’s
right-wing majority in Israel could grow further, even as U.S. voters become
more dissatisfied with Israeli behavior.
Lost Equilibrium
Public opinion
fluctuates, and polls should never drive policy. In an interview, former
Israeli Ambassador to the United States Michael Oren observed that Israeli
opinion about the United States isn’t very consequential to U.S. policymakers.
(Although it may have an indirect impact because it affects American Jewish
opinion.) But in the past, generally positive Israeli attitudes toward the U.S.
president have sometimes helped give the president the authority to advance
policies in Israel that reflect U.S. interests. Eizenstat noted that Carter’s
team read Israeli polls closely to discern whether Israelis supported the
president’s efforts to reach an Israeli-Egyptian peace. Israelis generally did,
Eizenstat recalls, and his team learned about the Israeli public’s specific
security concerns that would need to be met as they worked out the details.
By contrast, in April
2024, after the United States gathered an international coalition that included
even Arab states to provide extraordinary military support to Israel, using
their combined air defenses to thwart a massive Iranian missile attack, Israelis
seemed no more favorable toward the Biden administration than before. Following
the attack, the IDI reminded Israelis of this highly effective coalition and
asked if they would now “agree in principle to the future establishment of a
Palestinian state, in return for a permanent regional defense agreement.”
Israeli numbers didn’t budge: a majority of 55 percent rejected the idea, while
just 34 percent agreed. The rate was even lower among Israeli Jews: only 26
percent agreed.
Yet Israelis are also
tracking the growing partisan division of U.S. opinion toward Israel with
alarm. They know well that Biden is watching polls showing how his positions on
Israel and the war are viewed among critical constituencies in the American public
during his difficult reelection campaign against Trump. Informally, many
Israelis think that Biden has succumbed to pressure from the left, that
American university students protesting the war in Gaza have been brainwashed,
and that anti-Semitism has surged to dangerous levels.
It should be noted
that continued divergence of American and Israeli public opinion is not the
only possible near-term outcome of the current situation. If Trump succeeds in
defeating Biden, and continues policies that favor the Israeli right, the
current rift between the two countries, at least at the government level, may
shift to a populist right-wing alignment. But it seems likely that in the years
to come, the shifts that have taken place among younger voters in both
countries will continue, presenting a significant challenge for the two allies
as they seek to agree on a common policy agenda.
The basis of the
U.S.-Israeli relationship was once grounded in shared interests, but with a
much-prized sense of values. In terms of interests, the geopolitics of the Cold
War are long gone. But the two countries still have overlapping regional
concerns. The question of shared values, however, is more complicated: do both
countries continue to share a commitment to democracy, especially liberal
democracy? Israel has been moving away from that identity, and the United
States will decide its own path in November.
Much is unknown about
where both countries will go, especially given the continuing war and upheaval
in Israel. But if the core values of the United States and Israel diverge
further, the next generation of leaders in both places may no longer see each other
as kindred spirits. In that case, shared strategic interests might ensure that
the countries remain allies, but they might cease to have the “special
relationship” they have counted on in the past.
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