On Tuesday night, amid a series of primary battles across the United States, a significant development emerged regarding the way Israel is perceived by local voters. On the one hand, the night marked a troubling milestone: Progressive candidate Dr. Abdul El-Sayed, a physician who rose through Detroit’s healthcare system and is a harsh critic of Israel, won the Democratic Senate primary in Michigan against candidate Haley Stevens, who was backed by AIPAC.

Michigan is a swing state where Trump won two of the last three presidential elections. Although some polls gave El-Sayed a commanding lead of more than 11 percentage points, the gap narrowed considerably by the time polls closed, with the final margin relatively small compared with the level of support he had been projected to receive. This should likely raise serious concerns among Democrats regarding the party’s chances of retaining Michigan’s Senate seat.

The phenomenon illustrates the rise of the progressive Muslim wave that has swept across America, beginning with the election of Representatives Rashida Tlaib and Ilhan Omar in 2018 to Congress as part of what later became known as “the Squad,” continuing through Zohran Mamdani’s 2025 election as New York City mayor and, about a month ago, the election of three candidates backed by him to the House of Representatives from New York City. Those developments prompted past Democratic presidential candidate Kamala Harris, said to be considering another run, to meet with Mamdani as well as pro-Palestinian activists and progressive figures.

But immediately afterward, it is necessary to look up and examine the broader picture. Alongside these developments, Tuesday night also saw a series of primary contests in which AIPAC scored decisive victories. Above all, the powerful message that emerged from voters in Detroit and St. Louis is one that every Israeli should understand, especially current policymakers and members of the new government that will soon be formed.

A noteworthy detail

Let us begin with the tactical victories, several of which contain important details worth noting. From Michigan’s 11th District came remarkable news: Jewish candidate Jeremy Moss, whom many remember from a photo of him proudly marching with an Israeli flag in Tel Aviv during a protest, scored a major victory over progressive Muslim candidate Aisha Farooqi, who suffered a decisive defeat.

At the same time, it is impossible not to be moved by the impressive comeback of Elaine Luria from Virginia’s 2nd District. Luria, a former nuclear submarine commander, is remembered for her famous “J’accuse” style speech against Ilhan Omar after Omar questioned her loyalty to the United States. It is a speech worth watching and reflecting on. These achievements bring us to the geopolitical opportunity before us at this moment, because we must discuss the historic alliance between American Jewry and Israel and the African American community.

It is important to remember that Martin Luther King Jr. was a major supporter of Israel and that, at the time, Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel marched arm in arm in Selma, Alabama, carrying a Torah scroll alongside leaders of the Black community. This strong bond existed during the 1960s and 1970s but has steadily weakened in recent years.

Tuesday night’s elections sent a particularly strong message from heavily African American districts, first and foremost from Detroit, where 75% of the population is African American. The city’s large Black electorate sent an unequivocal message to the Democratic Party, saying clearly: We are not willing to be represented by progressives. In Detroit, El-Sayed suffered a resounding defeat against Stevens, contrary to polls that had given him an advantage. The result points to significant cracks within the Democratic Party that should be a source of serious concern.

The same occurred in St. Louis, which has a large African American community of around 45%. Candidate Wesley Bell won there. Bell already had defeated progressive Cori Bush in 2024, but the direct confrontation over attitudes toward Israel and his victory on that issue proved themselves once again, as he received nearly 60% of the vote against Bush in their rematch.

Jesse Jackson’s daughter converts to Judaism

Alongside the political arena, a particularly fascinating and surprising cultural development has recently emerged: Ashley, the daughter of civil rights icon Jesse Jackson, who is remembered in history for his tense and complicated relationship with the Jewish community, in June completed a conversion process to Judaism, choosing the Hebrew name Miriam Yiskah. Ashley even invited her father to attend a synagogue service with her two years before he died. The event reflects deeper currents and a renewed cultural connection between the communities.

The message sent after Tuesday’s primaries to all decision-makers at the Foreign Ministry, the Prime Minister’s Office and elsewhere must be sharp and clear: Which progressive messages are causing such widespread rejection among African American voters? And how can we, at least initially, build a shared struggle that restores the historic bond and recreates the affection that existed during the 1960s and 1970s?

It is true that the direction in which the United States is heading is troubling. But just as we reinvented ourselves in the 1970s through a brilliant outreach campaign toward evangelical audiences, we now need to rethink which communities share broad common ground with us, how we cultivate those relationships and how we build a coalition capable of working with us in a courageous and relevant way.

Published on Ynet

The post The Black vote, Israel and the 2026 primaries: This is the political shift Washington should watch first appeared on The Jewish People Policy Institute.

Something significant happened in Europe in recent days. On the night of Aug. 4-5, an explosive drone was discovered at Leipzig/Halle Airport in Germany, near a Ukrainian Antonov An-124 cargo aircraft reportedly carrying military ammunition. The drone did not explode, but US intelligence officials have assessed that the Russian government was behind its deployment, even though Russia is at least 600 kilometers (370 miles) from the site.

The incident occurred far from Israel, but it should serve as a flashing warning light for the country: The drone threat has become strategic, and its use against the home front of entire countries is no longer a question of whether it will happen, but when. Until just a few years ago, the drone threat was inherently limited. It was tactical, confined largely to areas near the battlefield, or lacked the command and navigation capabilities required for long-range operations. Then new technologies emerged and changed the equation.

The first is fiber-optic drones, a threat Israelis have become familiar with from Lebanon. These drones can be controlled in flight through a secure physical connection, but they are inherently limited to relatively short ranges.

The second is less familiar and more troubling: the cellular-controlled drone. Such a drone relies on cellular communications and can potentially travel thousands of kilometers, alter its course in flight, fly at low altitudes that make detection more difficult and strike targets with a high degree of precision.

A drone of this kind could make its way to Israel from a hostile country, or be launched from within Israel itself, and strike a moving strategic target. Its operator could be sitting in a bunker in Tehran or Sanaa, thousands of kilometers away, while using an accessible cellular network to control it.

Precision, range and operational flexibility are becoming available even to actors that could never afford expensive guided missiles. This is not a theoretical threat, as the extensive use of such technologies by Russia and Ukraine demonstrates. The latest incident in Germany further underscores that the danger is real and should serve as a wake-up call for Israel. Recent reports that the Diplomatic-Security Cabinet considered the possibility of completely halting drone activity in Israel also suggest that awareness of the threat is beginning to sink in.

There are solutions to the new threat

Even so, not enough is being done. Israel remains alarmingly exposed to this threat, and unlike Iran or Russia, it cannot simply shut down its cellular networks altogether.

Israel must now devote resources to confronting this new danger in much the same way it addressed the rocket and missile threat. The first step should be to draw up detailed threat scenarios, applying one of the central lessons of the Oct. 7, 2023, Hamas attack: A threat that decision-makers fail to imagine is one they will certainly fail to prepare for.

To do so, Israel’s intelligence agencies will need to deepen cooperation with Ukraine and Eastern European countries that have already been grappling with this threat for an extended period. Meanwhile, Israel must harness its technological innovation to rapidly develop advanced tools for monitoring and detecting these drones, not only along the country’s borders but deep inside Israeli territory as well.

Such efforts could draw on the fact that cellular-controlled drones exhibit distinctive patterns of activity on mobile networks that could, at least theoretically, be detected. Israel will also need kinetic layers of defense, including interception systems and systems in which interceptor drones are used to destroy hostile drones.

At the same time, rapid and effective cooperation with the private sector will be essential. Israel has to move quickly, and it has to do so now. The pace of change in drone technology is extraordinary, and the years it took to build Israel’s defensive architecture against rockets and missiles are simply not available in this case.

Here too, Israel must demonstrate to itself and to the rest of the world that with the right focus, there is no challenge it cannot overcome.

Israel Hayom

The post The drone threat has changed, Israel must change with it first appeared on The Jewish People Policy Institute.

Israeli public discourse is caught between what the Left calls the “poison machine” and what the Right calls the “poison channels.” As elections approach and every party seeks to distinguish itself, the country’s social race to the bottom is likely to accelerate. A hot – and dangerous – summer lies ahead.

The Jewish People Policy Institute (JPPI) examines relations among the different sectors of Israeli society through its Emotional Proximity Index, which measures Israelis’ attitudes toward 10 groups. The findings show that the two least-liked groups, to put it mildly, are Arabs and haredim (ultra-Orthodox), with the latter at the very bottom.

Beyond the grave social consequences, the nationwide emotional distance from both groups has political implications.

Each is represented by sectoral parties that many other political actors effectively blacklist: so long as haredi parties defend broad exemption from military service, they are unacceptable partners for a centrist government; so long as Arab parties are not Zionist, they are consigned to the opposition in almost any conceivable coalition.

The stark result is that broad swaths of the public deem roughly one-third of Israel’s citizens illegitimate partners in a future government. This reality is not inevitable. The coming election campaign may offer an opportunity for some social repair through daring moves that cross sectoral lines.

One emerging development suggests what may be possible: if Mansour Abbas and Yoav Segalovitz can agree on the latter leaving Yesh Atid and joining Ra’am, it would begin to challenge the current threatening image of the “Arab parties” as disloyal to the state and therefore untrustworthy.

If Segalovitz, who is known for his commitment to fighting violent crime, were then appointed national security minister after being elected on a civic platform supported mainly by Arab voters, everyone would stand to gain. The message would be even more powerful if he served in a broad government that also included right-wing parties.

Many ultra-Orthodox Jews deeply dissatisfied with haredi leadership

A similar development could take shape in haredi society. Despite the community’s celebrated unity behind its “great Torah sages,” many haredim are deeply dissatisfied with its current predicament.

Their leadership’s unrestrained rhetoric, its scandalous refusal to shoulder its fair share of the national defense burden, its resistance to employment and educational reform, and the poverty and isolation these policies perpetuate, do not reflect the free choice of thousands of haredim.

Their numbers are difficult to estimate, but it is hardly far-fetched to say that they represent at least two Knesset seats worth of haredi voters.

An organized movement of haredim seeking integration – in employment and military service – already exists. Led by Rabbi David Leibel through the Achvat Torah network, it gives expression to an authentic haredi voice – one that understands that haredi society must respond to changing realities and connect with the broader public sphere.

These haredim seek to realize the ideal of Torah im derech eretz (Torah combined with worldly engagement) without viewing this as either an imposition or a compromise. Conservative in outlook and lifestyle, they nevertheless understand that excessive conservatism breeds stagnation and that its consequences are already clearly visible in parts of haredi society.

Some haredim are plainly dissatisfied with their political representation. Although the community is growing rapidly – doubling every 20 years – its political representation has barely increased. Haredi votes are already drifting to mainstream parties, but only as individuals, quietly breaking ranks, so the message of civic partnership is lost.

A new haredi party, a concrete initiative called The Haredi Public, is already taking shape, but would be unlikely to clear the electoral threshold and would naturally seek to join an existing party. The next Knesset could therefore include one or two haredi lawmakers elected on a mainstream slate and promoting an explicitly integrationist haredi agenda.

On the surface, these would be small shifts – a handful of seats crossing the stark lines between identity groups that divide us. Their true value, however, lies in challenging the automatic labeling of the groups routinely cast as Israel’s ultimate outsiders – haredim and Arabs. If this promising trend continues, it could strengthen the common denominator of Israeli society: citizenship.

Published in the Jerusalem Post

The post New Arab, haredi alliances can reshape the elections first appeared on The Jewish People Policy Institute.

On the morning of October 7, Atara was home from the army.

It was Shabbat and Simchat Torah, and she was in the middle of her training to become an officer in the IDF Education and Youth Corps.

Hours after the Hamas attack, she was called back to her base. Over the weeks that followed, Atara was sent South to secure communities near the Gaza border, clear out military bases that had been overrun and ransacked by Hamas, and later, organize educational and support programs for evacuees living in hotels across Jerusalem.

Ilan was already in the South.

Just a few days earlier, he had completed a year-long course to become a military paramedic. This is a demanding position that combines advanced medical training with the responsibilities of a combat soldier. Military paramedics serve alongside infantry units and perform lifesaving surgical procedures under fire, often in the most difficult conditions imaginable.

Ilan and several friends from his course had decided to celebrate their graduation by spending the holiday at Kibbutz Sufa, which is located along the Gaza border.

When Hamas invaded that morning, they found themselves locked inside a bomb shelter with local residents. They were rescued later that day, and within days, Ilan was attached to one of the elite IDF units sent into Gaza.

He would spend the next two years in combat, treating wounded soldiers, accompanying troops into battle, and carrying a responsibility that few people his age should ever be asked to bear.

The October 7 generation builds a new future

Atara is my daughter. Ilan, as I write these words, is her fiancé. By Thursday night, they will – please God – have become husband and wife. Over the past few months, and especially during the weeks leading up to their wedding, I have found myself watching them more closely.

I watched them with their friends at their engagement party, at the henna celebration, and at the other gatherings that accompany the joyful chaos of an Israeli wedding.

And as I watched them, I realized that I was not looking only at a young couple preparing to begin their life together. I was looking at a generation – the soldiers of October 7.

Most of their friends are now out of the regular army, although many continue to serve in the reserves. Some remain in the IDF as officers, some are still commanding soldiers, and some continue to fight. Almost all carry something with them from the war.

All Israelis know someone who the war has scarred. We all know veterans who can’t sleep at night because of the nightmares, the sudden memories, the images that remain seared into their minds and refuse to disappear. We know of the emotional price paid by those who fought in Gaza or arrived at the devastated communities along the border in the days after the massacre.

These burdens are not immediately visible. They don’t look like a missing limb or a scar from shrapnel. As the father of the bride, perhaps I am more emotional than usual. But that emotion has also pushed me to observe these young people more carefully: Atara and Ilan, of course, but their friends as well.

They have given so much to this country and ask for so little in return.

These young people want to study, travel, and begin careers. They want to rent apartments they can barely afford and eventually build homes of their own. They want to hang out with friends, dance at weddings, complain about their professors and jobs, and live ordinary lives.

Even getting married is not simple. Over the past week, as the possibility of another escalation with Iran appeared to rise and fall by the hour, wedding plans were once again accompanied by the familiar Israeli questions: Will flights be canceled? Will reserve units be called up? Will the celebration be able to proceed?

This is what it means to build a life in Israel. Even the happiest moments exist alongside the possibility of war.

Not long ago, many people worried that this generation would not know how to stand up when the country needed it. They were dismissed as “The TikTok generation,” “The Instagram children,” “The kids raised on video games, iPhones, and instant gratification.”

They were accused of caring more about themselves than about the collective and of lacking the resilience and sense of national purpose that defined earlier generations.

The “TikTok generation” became Israel’s defenders

Then came October 7.

It was these young people who stood up.

They ran toward the Gaza border when others were paralyzed. They reported to bases without waiting to be called. They fought in Gaza and Lebanon. They evacuated civilians, treated the wounded, organized supplies, volunteered in hotels, buried friends, and then returned to their units.

For nearly three years, they have defended this country. And now, at the same time, they are beginning to build it.

They are getting married, going to university, launching businesses, beginning careers, and planning families. They are trying to reclaim the pieces of their lives that were interrupted on October 7, even as many continue to be called back into uniform.

They are not merely Israel’s future. They are the reason to believe that Israel has a future.

This summer marks another personal milestone for me: 25 years as a journalist and storyteller. Twenty-five years of covering this crazy little country, with its nonstop news, chaotic politics, and endless wars. Journalism can make a person cynical, and Israeli journalism can do that on steroids.

Our politics often seem all-consuming. We debate the same questions endlessly: Bibi or no Bibi? Can Gadi Eisenkot lead the country? Should this party sit with that one? Should Arab parties be part of a coalition? Was the meeting in the Oval Office a success or a failure? These questions matter, and policy also matters. The people who make decisions about war and peace, the economy, and the nature of the state have enormous influence over our lives.

But sometimes, in our obsession with politics, we miss the point. When I watch Atara, Ilan, and their friends dance, celebrate, smile, and jump for joy, I am reminded that the story of Israel is larger than the politicians who temporarily occupy its offices.

Israel’s founding generation established a sovereign Jewish state, and later generations have fought to preserve it

Israel’s founding generation dared to do what people before them only dreamed of doing – they established a sovereign Jewish state in the Land of Israel despite overwhelming odds, a massive military invasion, and enormous sacrifice.

The generations that followed fought to preserve it. They absorbed immigrants, built cities, established industries, developed universities, created one of the world’s most capable militaries, and transformed a small, vulnerable country into a center of technology, medicine, culture, and Jewish life. Every generation has fought. But the responsibility was never only to fight. It was to fight and build simultaneously. The obligation is to pass on to the next generation a country that is safer, stronger, and better than the one we inherited.

We should worry about Israel’s future. The situation is precarious, and the threats are real. The country’s unity is fragile, our politics can be poisonous, and security can never be taken for granted. The last three years have taught us that catastrophe is possible in the snap of a finger.

But worry cannot be the only emotion that defines us.

We must also appreciate and cherish what is being built here. We need to look beyond the politics and cynicism and see the young people who have carried this country since October 7. They are dedicated and committed. They understand responsibility and have been willing to pay an extraordinary price for the welfare of the collective. They are traumatized, but they are still capable of joy.

That might be the most remarkable thing of all.

After everything they have witnessed, they still choose to dance, to celebrate new beginnings, and to believe in building homes and families right here.

With young people like these, that future can be bright.

Published in the Jerusalem Post

The post A wedding, a war and the generation carrying Israel forward first appeared on The Jewish People Policy Institute.

Israelis have rarely been more critical of Europe. Since the Hamas-led terrorist attacks on October 7, 2023, relations between Israel and several European Union member states have entered one of their most difficult periods in recent memory.

Disagreements over Gaza, humanitarian access, settlements, settler violence, international law, and recognition of a Palestinian state have deepened political tensions.

At the same time, Jewish communities across Europe have faced a severe resurgence of antisemitic violence, heightening Israeli anxieties about the continent and exposing a profound challenge to the EU’s democratic values.

Yet Israelis continue to be drawn to Europe. Demand for citizenship in EU member states remains substantial and has increased in several countries. European universities continue to attract Israeli students. Horizon Europe – the EU’s funding program for research and innovation – remains highly valued by Israeli scientists.

The EU remains Israel’s largest trading partner, and millions of Israelis travel across the continent each year because it still represents opportunity, stability, and openness.

The annual publication of the Henley Passport Index helps illuminate this apparent contradiction. Governments celebrate incremental gains in the rankings, travelers compare visa-free access, and headlines announce which passport has become the world’s most powerful.

The index measures the privileges attached to citizenship, not the desire to acquire it. But read alongside naturalization patterns, it points toward an overlooked measure of soft power: the attraction political communities exert on outsiders.

Viewed through this lens, the EU’s greatest source of international influence lies largely outside the remit of its foreign ministries. It is embedded in institutions Europeans have spent decades building. If foreign policy is ultimately about shaping the preferences of others, then Europe’s strongest instrument is not diplomacy alone but the enduring attraction of the European project itself. The Israeli case illustrates this with unusual clarity.

The attraction extends beyond economics and education. Israeli footballers aspire to play in Europe’s leading leagues, Israeli clubs measure success by qualification for European competitions, and many Israelis follow European football closely. Sport, like science, higher education, and culture, projects influence without intending to do so. It succeeds because people associate excellence, opportunity, and prestige with European institutions.

Europe’s diplomatic standing among many Israelis may have weakened. Its institutional attraction has not. The two have moved in opposite directions.

This divergence raises a broader question about how international influence should be measured. International relations traditionally emphasizes military power, economic leverage, alliances, and diplomacy. Joseph Nye, the American political scientist, challenged this understanding by arguing that attraction constitutes an independent source of soft power. Yet attraction is notoriously difficult to observe. Opinion polls fluctuate, and official rhetoric often reflects immediate politics as much as deeper preferences.

Citizenship tells a different story. Applying for citizenship requires time, money, and often years of legal effort. Not every application expresses admiration for the country issuing the passport. Some are plainly instrumental – an insurance policy, a route to study or employment, or a means of preserving mobility. But even instrumental demand rests on confidence that the laws and institutions behind that citizenship will continue to protect the rights it confers.

Applications, therefore, reveal something opinion polls cannot: they demonstrate that people are willing to invest years of effort to become members of a political community. Few indicators provide a clearer behavioral measure of institutional attraction.

Debates about the EU’s global role often overlook the strategic significance of this process. Discussion usually centers on defense spending, strategic autonomy, sanctions, and foreign policy coordination.

These questions matter, but they can obscure the EU’s most durable comparative advantage. Its universities educate future political, scientific, and business leaders. Its courts provide legal certainty. Its research institutions sustain international collaboration. Its single market, cultural industries, sporting competitions, and freedom of movement create an ecosystem of attraction that no foreign ministry could design, and no public diplomacy campaign could reproduce.

For Israelis, this attraction persists despite genuine political disagreement. An Israeli may strongly oppose the policies of a particular EU member state while continuing to admire European universities, scientific institutions, legal systems, sporting culture, and civic freedoms. Governments and diplomatic positions change. Institutional legitimacy accumulates over generations and erodes far more slowly.

For many Israelis, the attraction also carries a historical dimension. Recovering citizenship stripped from parents or grandparents through persecution, expulsion, or genocide may represent more than administrative convenience. It can also reflect confidence in Europe’s effort to confront its past through democratic institutions and the rule of law – and in the ability of political communities to rebuild legitimacy across generations.

The implications extend beyond Europe. In an era defined by hard power and economic coercion, institutional attraction remains a strategic resource. Governments rise and fall, and diplomatic crises pass. Institutions that attract students, researchers, investors, entrepreneurs, athletes, artists, and future citizens generate influence that outlasts political cycles.

The Israeli case, therefore, offers a broader lesson about statecraft. Military strength deters. Economic power shapes incentives. Diplomacy manages crises. Attraction creates a form of voluntary association that coercion cannot. That makes institutional legitimacy not merely a feature of good governance but a strategic asset.

Despite political tensions, antisemitism, and repeated predictions of European decline, many Israelis continue to seek citizenship in EU member states and participate in Europe’s academic, scientific, economic, cultural, and sporting life. That paradox suggests that Europe’s greatest foreign policy achievement lies not in what it says to the world but in the political community it has built.

In an age of geopolitical competition, few forms of international influence are more enduring than a society that others still choose to join.

Published in the Jerusalem Post

The post Israelis are angry at Europe, yet still drawn to it first appeared on The Jewish People Policy Institute.

Israel has spent much of the past three years demonstrating extraordinary military capability, degrading much of Hamas’ infrastructure, severely weakening Hezbollah, and projecting power deep into Iran.

Yet those battlefield gains have not translated into greater international influence. As Israel’s military reach expanded, its diplomatic room for maneuver narrowed. Academic and cultural boycotts spread. Scientific partnerships became more fragile. Public debate across Europe and North America grew more polarized. Israel demonstrated military superiority while steadily losing ground in the struggle for international legitimacy.

This erosion is no longer merely a matter of perception. Recent polling points to declining support for Israel in countries where public opinion had already turned negative, including the United States and Germany. For the first time in decades, Americans express no greater sympathy for Israelis than for Palestinians. The Anholt–Ipsos Nation Brands Index has placed Israel at or near the bottom of the countries it assesses for two consecutive years. At the same time, the International Criminal Court’s arrest warrants for Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and former Defense Minister Yoav Gallant have reinforced the country’s growing diplomatic isolation.

This paradox captures one of the defining realities of the 21st century: military strength remains indispensable, but it is no longer sufficient.

For most of modern history, states measured power by armies, territory, industrial production and economic output. Those assets remain essential in an increasingly unstable world, as Russia’s war in Ukraine and Iran’s regional ambitions continue to demonstrate.

But strategic competition now extends well beyond the battlefield.

The concept of soft power has shaped international relations for more than 30 years. Yet in Israel, it is still too often reduced to public diplomacy – a question of messaging rather than national strategy. In reality, countries compete not only for territory but also for talent, investment, trust and enduring partnerships.

Universities, hospitals, cultural and sporting institutions, technology companies and philanthropic foundations increasingly shape a country’s international influence. Governments cannot simply command that influence. It grows when talented people choose to study, collaborate, invest and create within a country’s institutions.

Here, Israel possesses one of its greatest strategic assets. The country is widely known as the “Startup Nation,” but innovation is only part of a much larger story. Institutions such as the Technion and the Weizmann Institute rank among the world’s leading research centers. Hospitals such as Sheba and Ichilov are internationally recognized for medical innovation and humanitarian expertise. Israeli scientists, entrepreneurs, artists, filmmakers and athletes reach audiences far beyond the country’s borders.

Together, these institutions form an ecosystem that gives Israel a global reach far greater than its size would suggest. It is precisely this ecosystem that today’s boycotts, diplomatic isolation, and declining public support threaten.

Yet the picture is not entirely bleak. Columbia University recently announced the opening of its Tel Aviv Global Center to deepen collaboration in science, technology, entrepreneurship, and medicine, despite having become a symbol of anti-Israel campus protests. Nor is Columbia alone. MIT has expanded its Kalaniyot program, more than doubling the number of Israeli scholars on campus. Together, these developments suggest that even amid political polarization, Israeli institutions remain highly valued research partners.

Israel also possesses a less recognized advantage: its institutions are connected to one of history’s oldest and most globally dispersed communities. For centuries, Jewish communities built schools, universities, hospitals, charitable organizations, and philanthropic networks across the world. After the establishment of the State of Israel, many of these institutions became intertwined with Israeli ones, creating a far-reaching network of scientific, educational, cultural, medical and civic cooperation.

Few countries benefit from a worldwide network that predates the state and continues to reinforce it. Such networks rarely collapse overnight. They erode gradually as partnerships weaken, exchanges diminish and trust declines.

Unlike countries whose soft power rests primarily on culture, technology or higher education, Israel’s influence emerges from the interaction between a sovereign state and Jewish communities worldwide. This is not merely soft power. It is institutional and network power – the capacity to build relationships and generate forms of cooperation that others value and need.

This is why Israel must rethink its understanding of power.

For years, discussions about Israel’s international position have focused on public diplomacy. Every setback abroad prompts renewed calls for better messaging. Communication matters. But communication cannot substitute for strategy.

Countries admired for scientific excellence first build outstanding universities. Countries respected for innovation first cultivate entrepreneurs and researchers. Countries trusted during humanitarian crises first establish world-class hospitals.

Reputation follows performance. Institutions earn credibility long before governments communicate it.

That lesson has become especially important since Oct. 7, 2023. Israel’s understandable focus on immediate security has reinforced its traditional emphasis on military strength, and rightly so. But the past three years have also shown that military success alone cannot secure the country’s long-term international position. In some cases, military action may deepen the diplomatic isolation it is intended to prevent.

Scientific cooperation, educational exchange, technological leadership, cultural creativity, humanitarian engagement and strong ties with Jewish communities abroad are not luxuries reserved for peaceful times. They strengthen the economy, reinforce diplomacy, attract talent and create partnerships that become especially valuable during periods of crisis.

They are part of national security.

Israel therefore needs a broader understanding of grand strategy. The country built one of the world’s most sophisticated military establishments because successive governments understood that security required sustained investment, institutional capacity, and long-term planning.

The same strategic mindset must now guide investment in universities, research, culture, humanitarian institutions and the organizations connecting Israel with Jewish communities around the world. That means more than increasing budgets. It means protecting research partnerships from short-term political pressures, expanding scientific and cultural exchange, investing consistently in humanitarian cooperation and creating durable mechanisms through which Israeli and diaspora institutions can plan and act together.

These areas should not be treated as separate policy portfolios. They form a single strategic ecosystem. Strong universities generate discoveries. Discoveries attract investment. Investment fuels innovation and strengthens resilience. Culture broadens international familiarity. Philanthropy sustains education and research. Together, they create influence greater than the sum of their individual parts.

This perspective should also change how Israel views its relationship with world Jewry. Too often, that relationship is framed primarily in terms of political advocacy or philanthropy. In reality, Israel and Jewish communities together constitute a uniquely extensive network of knowledge, education, entrepreneurship, medicine and civic leadership. Preserving and strengthening those ties is not simply a communal responsibility. It is a strategic imperative.

The international system has already been transformed. Strategic competition now encompasses AI, biotechnology, cybersecurity and technological leadership alongside conventional military power. The countries that shape this new era will combine the ability to defend themselves with the ability to attract exceptional talent, investment and enduring partnerships.

Israel already possesses many of these advantages. The challenge is to protect them, strengthen them, and treat them as strategic assets rather than as byproducts of national success.

For 78 years, Israel has treated deterrence as a national imperative. The decades ahead will require it to pursue attraction with comparable determination. Military superiority will remain essential for survival. But lasting influence will depend on whether Israel remains an indispensable partner in science, innovation, education, culture, medicine and humanitarian engagement.

In the 21st century, the strongest countries will not simply be those that defeat their enemies. They will be those that others cannot afford to do without.

Published in the Jewish Journal

The post Israel’s Next Front: The Power of Attraction first appeared on The Jewish People Policy Institute.

Violence against media outlets and journalists has become commonplace. Politicians on both the right and the left routinely declare their intention to shut down news organizations, and just last month the Knesset passed legislation that will dramatically affect Israel’s media landscape. These developments pose a twofold threat to a free press: outright silencing and the self-censorship of media organizations and journalists. Unless this trend is stopped, Israel will become a “democracy” in name only.

A free press is the lifeblood of democracy at all times, but especially during elections. Without it, the government cannot be held to account, nor can alternatives to its policies be presented. Although freedom of expression is clearly recognized as a protected fundamental value in Israel, that protection still rests on Supreme Court precedent. It has yet to be enshrined in the Basic Laws – Israel’s de facto, albeit problematic, constitutional structure. This leaves the free press inherently vulnerable. And the situation is getting worse. Of the 180 countries included in the 2025 World Press Freedom Index, Israel ranked 116th – somewhere between Lebanon and Tanzania.

The assault on Israel’s media is not new, but it appears to be intensifying. What makes it dangerous is the convergence of three forces that, together, could cripple the press’s ability to fulfill its democratic role. The first is politicians’ relentless attacks on media outlets. We have grown numb to such rhetoric, but labels such as “enemy of the people,” “Al Jazeera 12,” and “poison channels” have become standard political rhetoric against Israeli broadcasters. Such rhetoric has been accompanied by calls from politicians – including self-described “democrats” such as Yair Golan, leader of Israel’s Democrats party – to censor outlets they dislike. Golan, for example, has vowed to shut down Channel 14, Israel’s most right-wing TV station, should he come to power.

Whether or not such inflammatory rhetoric foments violence, attacks on media organizations and reporters in Israel have become almost routine. Last week, Channel 12’s offices were vandalized for a second time, its glass doors smashed and a handwritten death threat left at the scene. The Tel Aviv offices of Haaretz have likewise been attacked more times than anyone can count. Journalists are also repeatedly assaulted while doing their jobs. Channel 14 reporters, for example, have recently been assailed several times while covering events in “left-wing strongholds.” Reporters are assaulted almost indiscriminately in Judea and Samaria (the West Bank), where “hilltop youth” unleash their anger on the press, and at Haredi demonstrations, where violence against media crews has become standard operating procedure.

Compounding these dangers is the threat of institutional pressure from the government. The law advanced by Communications Minister Shlomo Karhi and passed by the Knesset last week is a case in point. Under the guise of promoting competition in the media market, it politicizes the council charged with regulating the media. Political control over the body that sets media rules and oversees their enforcement is a clear and present danger to the freedom of expression of the outlets it regulates.

Against this backdrop, the obvious danger is to the press’s ability to operate freely and perform its democratic function. But there is another, less visible and unquantifiable threat that is no less serious: self-censorship and self-imposed constraints. In an environment where covering a demonstration can end in injury, criticizing the IDF can prompt stones to be hurled at a newsroom, and criticizing government policy can result in restrictions on a news organization, every journalist may ask whether the risk is worth taking – the risk of going into the field to cover events; the risk of exposing the truth and inviting regulatory, political, or even physical attacks.

Israel’s free press will not die overnight. But it can slowly wither and censor itself, ultimately harming all sides of the political spectrum – until Israeli democracy as we know it fades with it.

Published in TOI

The post ‘Enemy of the people’? A free press is democracy’s lifeblood first appeared on The Jewish People Policy Institute.

Nearly three years into this unconscionable spike in Jew-hatred, cultivated through decades of academic anti-Zionism, universities still don’t get it. Until they respond as teachers running educational institutions not bureaucrats running Communist re-education camps, the crisis will fester.

This summer, when a Cornell student refused a second job interview with: “Not interested in working for a jew…,” the response to him was too political and legalistic. Exposed, he doubled down, telling The Cornell Daily Sun that he realized the interviewers were Jewish based on their “first and last name, LinkedIn, and physiognomy” – the last word uniting today’s manosphere with yesterday’s Nazis.

Defending free speech while fighting bigotry and avoiding thought-policing isn’t easy. But a recent Chronicle of Higher Education article about the incident illustrated academics’ overly-politicized and disappointingly sterile approach. Thirty percent of the op-ed bashed President Trump and his appointees, assuming that Cornell officials only investigated this as a possible “bias incident” to placate the administration.

Cornell, the author argued, “should not be ‘investigating’ anyone for what they have said. Its own ‘Core Values’ statement declares that ‘free and open inquiry and expression’ — even of ‘ideas some may consider wrong or offensive’ — is fundamental to the university.” Warning of a slippery slope, while shifting the conversation from bigoted language to inflammatory political remarks, the author wondered: If Cornell “penalizes” the student “for declaring that he doesn’t want to work for Jews, who will be next? Someone who says Israel is committing genocide? Or that the university should boycott it?”

This clever category switch is absurd, given how universities spent years squelching speech. Academics have repeatedly – and unacceptably — bullied those with dissenting views on issues of race, gender, immigration, among other politically-correct causes – while protecting blacks, women, gays, but often not Jews. In 2020, students boycotted a Cornell University Law Professor, William Jacobson, for calling Black Lives Matters’ founders “anti-American, anti-capitalist activists.” His dean denounced him.

Other professors have suffered macro-career disruptions over supposed micro-aggressions – one veteran UCLA prof endured student sit-ins and was saddled with extra colleagues encroaching on his course for correcting grammar in papers.

While avoiding such assaults on free speech in the future, universities must also acknowledge their record of selective outrage.

In the Cornell case, apply a simple substitution test for consistency. Flip a switch. Replace “black,” “woman,” “gay,” “lesbian,” or “trans” in the sentence “Not interested in working for a jew.” Similarly, the student escalated on X, tweeting: “My experiences with Jews have not been pleasant….” Wouldn’t it be “bias” if he overgeneralized about others, saying “my experiences” with blacks or women or Catholics or Latinos “have not been pleasant?” Universities’ assault on bigotry cannot depend on “the context” — when “context” essentially means “it’s OK to target Jews.”

Hysteria and browbeating don’t help. Modeling that spirit, the employer who received the bigoted response posted it without the student’s name. “He’s just a student, he might not know any better — it could be people in his environment, or on social media he saw something about Jewish people and he is just following the wave,” the spurned boss, Gabe Einhorn, told the Cornell Sun. (Others online outed the student).

And this case is particularly confusing. Refusing a Jew because you’re a bigot isn’t “discrimination.” The student didn’t offend a fellow Cornellian, which dilutes the assault on the “community.”

Also, the student sought employment privately – does it concern Cornell if the university placement office helped, but is it irrelevant if he networked independently? Does placing Cornell’s name on his CV make anything he does on the job relevant to the university? Does that involvement end with graduation?

Fighting bigotry requires balance, perspective, wisdom. The cancel culture craze revealed how suffocating it is to police every word, gesture, interaction, and how self-destructive it is when universities divert massive resources into creating bureaucracies monitoring students’ thoughts. Moreover, it’s always better to err on the side of fostering free speech than banning it.

Here, then, is the misfire in the anti-bias conversation, that highlights one of the modern universities’ greatest failures. These are educational institutions. But most universities have allowed bureaucrats – in Washington and on campus – to hijack what could be “teachable moments.” Technical legalistic bureaucratese keeps eclipsing the moral language and character building that should be ingrained into campus culture.

Cornell[s “mission” is “to educate the next generation of global citizens….” Global citizens are cultivated by thoughtful, challenging professors committed to educating not punishing. Did any of this student’s professors or fellow students – Jewish or non-Jewish — contact him, explaining why the statement embarrassed him and the university, then inspire him to be better? And, did any one within the Jewish community, formally or inflormally, do the same, explaining how, especially today, such matter-of-fact bigotry is so morally repulsive?

Next month, most universities will welcome their new students with orientations. Most will offer anti-bias or sensitivity training reflecting today’s ideological circus, with all the soul of a computer instruction manual. Just as modern professors and administrators fail to build their community through bold, out-of-the-box, “I-thou” moments, these training sessions will fail to begin fostering what’s really needed to create diverse communities filled with critical thought and mutual respect.

It’s better to assign great, thought-provoking books than to list dos-and-don’ts. Today’s bureaucratic, hyper-politicized, and cowardly professoriate forgets that, as Ralph Waldo Emerson taught: “Character is higher than intellect…. A great soul will be strong to live, as well as strong to think.”

Then again, perhaps these paint-by-numbers posturing sessions are precisely the orientation students need to grab their credentials and parrot back the certitudes imposed by far too many in today’s classroom.

Published in the Jewish Journal

The post Professors Should Fight Campus Jew-Hatred as Educators, Not Bureaucrats first appeared on The Jewish People Policy Institute.

The US-Israel relationship has rarely been stronger militarily – even if at the same time, it currently seems strained politically.

On the one hand, ask almost any senior IDF officer – from the chief of staff down – and they will tell you that cooperation with the United States military, particularly the United States Central Command (CENTCOM), has never been closer.

The American military presence in Israel is unprecedented, with personnel deployed at Air Force bases and other locations across the country.

Discussions are already underway about turning parts of this deployment into a more permanent presence, one that would include joint analysis of enemies and targets, enhanced intelligence sharing, and expanded training in Israel and neighboring countries alongside American and other allied militaries.

Yet, while at the operational level, the relationship between both countries is extraordinarily close, at the political level a very different picture is emerging.

It is no secret that Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and his government have limited influence over decision-making in Washington right now, particularly when it comes to Iran. While the US is attacking Iran every night, Israel has been ordered to sit on the sidelines. It has not even been invited to join the operation in the Strait of Hormuz, even as the US openly calls on other nations to do so.

And then there were Vice President JD Vance’s comments this week on Joe Rogan’s podcast – specifically his accusations that Israel has been running a campaign against him personally to pressure the US into widening the war with Iran. This can only be described as a Joint Direct Attack Munition (JDAM)-like precision strike against the foundations of the US-Israel alliance.

These were not the comments of a fringe commentator or an isolationist member of Congress. They came from the vice president of the United States, a leading contender to inherit the MAGA movement and potentially the presidency itself. Then there was President Donald Trump’s apparent decision to move ahead with the sale of the fifth-generation F-35 to Turkey, which would make it only the second country in the region, after Israel, to operate the stealth aircraft.

Add to that Wednesday night’s signing of an agreement on a civilian nuclear program with Saudi Arabia – initially announced without connection to the Abraham Accords, something Trump later clarified was in fact connected – and it is hard to escape the conclusion that Israel has, at least for the moment, been pushed somewhat to the side.

The F-35 sale to Turkey will directly challenge Israel’s qualitative military edge. It is possible that Ankara will receive a modified version of the aircraft with capabilities slightly inferior to those of the Israeli fleet. It is also possible that Israel will be compensated with technological upgrades, new weapons systems, or other capabilities designed to preserve its advantage.

But none of that changes the broader strategic reality. Turkey is a dominant power in the region whose leader has a close relationship with Trump.

The Saudi agreement is no less consequential. A civilian nuclear program was originally supposed to be one of Washington’s primary cards for drawing Riyadh into a normalization agreement with Israel. Even though Trump has said that it is connected to the Abraham Accords, time will tell. For now, Saudi Arabia is saying that it will not normalize relations as long as Israel remains in a state of conflict in Gaza.

Could something more be happening beneath the surface, beyond what the public – and perhaps even many government officials – currently know? Of course. The Abraham Accords themselves were known to only a small number of people before their announcement in August 2020. It is possible that the Saudi nuclear agreement is one piece of a broader process that will eventually lead to normalization with Israel.

But as of now, there is no indication that this is the case.

Even if such a process were underway, it is difficult to imagine what Israel’s contribution could currently be. The idea that this government, particularly in the run-up to the upcoming election, could meaningfully advance a political process with the Palestinians is detached from political reality.

Netanyahu cannot afford to make any serious concessions at the same time that he is fighting for his political survival. Any move that could be portrayed as a concession to the Palestinians runs the risk of alienating even his most loyal and dedicated followers.

Add to the mix recent meetings Trump has had with Arab leaders while refusing to schedule a meeting with Netanyahu (it is possible that something will change on that front next week, now that the funeral plans for the late Sen. Lindsey Graham have been announced).

This week, President Joseph Aoun became the first Lebanese head of state to visit the White House in almost two decades. The week before, Trump hosted Iraq’s new prime minister, Ali al-Zaidi. Earlier this month, Trump met with Ahmed al-Sharaa, the former al-Qaeda jihadist who now serves as president of Syria, on the sidelines of the NATO summit in Ankara.

Taken individually, each meeting can be explained. Viewed together, they begin to form a pattern, one that does not include Israel.

Israel’s victories, others’ diplomacy

Ironically, though, while Israel might be left out of the room, the fact that cannot be ignored is that many of the regional changes that these leaders are discussing with Trump would not have come about had it not been for Israel. Zaidi is working closely with the US to weaken and dismantle Iranian-backed militias in Iraq. Sharaa would almost certainly not have come to power had Israel not devastated the Iranian axis and, in particular, Hezbollah.

Aoun would not be treated as a regional leader worthy of presidential attention had Israel not dramatically weakened Hezbollah and created an opening for the Lebanese state to begin asserting itself. That opening has now led to a new pilot program under which the IDF has started withdrawing from several villages in southern Lebanon and allowing the Lebanese Armed Forces to try to take control and prevent Hezbollah from returning.

Over the last three years, Israel weakened Iran, shattered Hezbollah, helped bring about the collapse of the Assad regime in Syria, struck the Houthis in Yemen, and severely degraded Hamas in Gaza.

The scale of the transformation is difficult to overstate.

Which raises the obvious question: How is it that Israel, after paying such a tremendous price and doing so much to transform the region, now appears to be sidelined from some of the diplomacy and strategic planning that this transformation has made possible?

Whether it is the emerging American relationships with Lebanon and Iraq, negotiations over Iran, the Saudi nuclear agreement, Turkey’s return to the F-35 program, or even the future of Gaza, Israel increasingly appears to be watching others shape the regional order.

The answer is not that Israel has suddenly become militarily irrelevant. The unprecedented cooperation with CENTCOM proves the opposite. Instead, the problem appears to be political. After a meeting this week between representatives of the Board of Peace and Netanyahu, it became strikingly clear to its members that almost nothing significant will move forward while Israel remains in an election cycle.

Of all the unresolved issues, Gaza is the most politically explosive for Netanyahu.

Any step – even something as limited as allowing caravans into Gaza to provide temporary shelter for displaced civilians – risks being framed by his coalition partners and political rivals as a concession.

Ahead of an election, Netanyahu will not take that risk.

Israel, therefore, finds itself in a deeply troubling position. Its soldiers have created new opportunities across the Middle East, but its political leadership is having trouble converting those achievements into formidable strategic gains. Military power can weaken enemies, destroy infrastructure, and open diplomatic doors. It cannot, by itself, decide what lies on the other side.

That requires political initiative, creativity, and a government capable of looking beyond the next election. Without this, Israel risks discovering that it fought the wars, paid the price, and transformed the region – only for others to write the new Middle East without it.

Published in the Jerusalem Post

The post Has Israel been sidelined as the new regional order is being written? first appeared on The Jewish People Policy Institute.