There Must be Normal Equivalency in U.S.-Middle East Policy
This is an adapted excerpt from "Let My People Know: The Incredible Story of Middle East Peace—and What Lies Ahead" (Encounter Books, July 12). The author, Aryeh Lightstone, served as senior adviser to the U.S. Ambassador to Israel and special envoy for the Abraham Accords. He was in the room for nearly every major discussion and decision involving Middle East policy, and was tasked with the most complex and sensitive component of the Accords: turning them into practical action and doing so quickly — during a pandemic, no less.
One way that U.S. Ambassador to Israel David Friedman demonstrated the principle of standing with America’s allies was by personally offering condolences for victims of terror. In the past, some ambassadors would offer condolences for U.S. citizens killed by terrorism, though it was not a regular practice. When Friedman arrived in Israel, he made it a policy that he or I, and often both of us, would make a condolence call to the family of every single terror victim in Israel. A disproportionate number of these people lived in the West Bank, where visits involved highly technical security coordination. Nonetheless, we considered these visits important, though it wasn’t until March 2019 that I fully grasped the significance.
The ambassador was busy with preparations for a visit by Mike Pompeo, then Secretary of State, when he tasked me with two condolence visits on the Fast of Esther, the day before Purim. The first was to the family of a rabbi in the West Bank who had been gunned down in a terror attack, and the second was to the family of a twenty-two-year-old soldier killed while trying to stop that attack. Condolence calls under normal circumstances are awkward and challenging. Condolence calls in your second language, when you know that every word will be scrutinized, is one of the most difficult tasks I was called upon to perform.
On the morning of the Fast of Esther, I woke up with a heavy heart. I expected to be in the car for up to seven hours that day and also involved in phone calls about last-minute coordination for Pompeo’s visit. I was nervous about how my condolence calls would go, and I didn’t have my usual several cups of coffee that morning since I was fasting. I already had a headache and knew it was going to get worse as the day progressed.
Arriving at the first home in an armored four-car motorcade — which I always thought was a bit heavy handed — I reminded myself that I was representing the United States of America, and that our nation stands with our allies against terror, now and always. I knew that if I sat in the room for ten minutes and said a few comforting words but mostly listened, the visit would go as well as it could.
When I walked in, all other visitors were asked to move to another room, leaving the murdered rabbi’s wife, his thirteen children, and their grandparents, all in mourning. The victim’s mother-in-law broke down in heaving sobs. I didn’t know what to do, but I took the seat reserved for me and said, “Ambassador Friedman apologizes for not being here. He was called away for last-minute preparation for the arrival of our secretary of state. He has sent me here on his behalf and on behalf of President Trump to offer our sincere condolences and to let you know that we stand here with you now and always.”
I asked the kids, “Please tell me one thing about your father that I can take with me to preserve his memory.” One by one, the thirteen of them thanked me for coming and shared a thought about their father. Since they ranged in age from three to twenty-five, their thoughts and emotions ran the gamut.
Then the mother-in-law told me this was her second son-in-law to be murdered by terrorists. She loved her family and her country more than life itself. She mentioned that when she was sitting shiva for her first murdered son-in-law, the international community came out with a statement asking all sides to deescalate the violence. They asked Israel to stop building homes, and Palestinians to stop killing Israelis. Thousands of Israelis came to visit and comfort her and her family, yet she still felt lonely.
When I walked into the room with the American flag pin on my lapel, she couldn’t contain her emotions. She then knew that she wasn’t alone. She felt that 300 million Americans were standing with her, lending their shoulders for her to cry on. “You have brought me comfort,” she said. I knew what she meant but left unspoken: The most righteous and powerful nation in history was not saying that Jews shouldn’t build homes in Judea. Instead, it was saying that terror is inexcusable, and that there is no moral equivalency between the murderers and the murdered.
I am not ashamed to say that I wept along with the mother-in-law. I felt the presence of Pastor Hagee, of my friends from my synagogues across the United States, of ordinary Americans who know the difference between right and wrong. I knew it was the highest honor and greatest privilege to be in that room.
My experience that day is etched in my memory. The time of a government official is precious, and I considered this visit the best possible use of my time as a representative of the United States. It mattered greatly to those who were personally harmed by terror, and the regular policy of condolence calls sent a clear message to the people of Israel and the State of Israel: You are not alone. You will not be alone. The United States will stand by you.
With these visits, we stripped away the moral equivalency that existed in U.S. policy prior to President Trump. We made it clear that we would stand consistently and adamantly against anti-Semitism, not just for the good of the Jewish people but for the good of America. Ambassador Friedman was determined to confront decades of nefarious moral relativism, and the battle was waged in some unexpected places, from the pages of State Department reports to the homes of terror victims. I’m proud to have been a foot soldier in that battle.
Ending the moral equivalency also worked as deterrence, since it removed constraints on Israel’s ability to act in its own defense. The most obvious goal of terrorism is to threaten Israelis physically, but another goal is to garner international sympathy, on the premise that terrorism is a desperate measure taken by the weak. Israelis have proved to be resilient, and terrorist attacks have strengthened their resolve. When the United States is resolute in condemning terror — not the building of homes — the terrorists lose international sympathy. This allows Israel the diplomatic space to take all necessary steps to defend itself, which, in turn, makes it a valuable ally and force multiplier for the United States.
Aryeh Lightstone served as senior advisor to the U.S. Ambassador to Israel from 2017 to 2021. Follow @lightstonea
