J Street, the Israel lobby group launched in Washington on 15th April as an alternative to the right-wing American Israel Public Affairs committee (Aipac) and its allies, generated the predictable brief storms of praise from liberals and scorn from conservatives. Gershom Gorenberg, who previewed it for the April issue of Prospect, wrote in the (unrelated) American Prospect that J Street "might change not only the political map in Washington but the actual map in the middle east." From the other trench, Noah Pollak at Commentary predicted that the effort would fall flat and at last discredit "the belief that there are great battalions of American Jewish doves languishing in voicelessness, awaiting mobilisation by leaders whose answer to Islamist terrorism is interminable dialogue."
A more unexpected criticism came from Amitai Etzioni, a distinguished Israeli-American intellectual who is no great fan of Aipac. He claimed that J Street "does not embrace any of the various formulas for peace" and accused it of making its chief enemy not Iran or Hizbullah, but its Washington rivals, "fellow Jews who support Israel."
Etzioni overstated it; J Street doesembrace specific formulae for peace (two states along the 1967 borders with land swaps, as well as Israeli-Syrian peace and more). But he touched on a genuine risk: being seen as partisan in Washington could seriously weaken J Street's case.
J Street's aim, put simply, is to provide a different way for politicians to be pro-Israel. Currently, the only heavyweight (meaning that they can recruit serious money for congressional campaigns) advocates on Israel policy are Christian evangelicals, neoconservatives, Aipac and other right-wing American Jewish groups. A politician who makes any comment seen as not 100 per cent supportive of Israel—such as suggesting the country should enforce its own laws against settlement-building in the West Bank—invites the threat of lost donations. As a result, the discourse on Israel in American politics is far more constrained and considerably further to the right than in Israel itself. (It also says something about American politics that J Street emphasises it is "pro-Israel"; to be "neutral" or, heaven forfend, "pro-Palestinian" would be beyond the pale.)
J Street's credo, according to its director Jeremy Ben-Ami, is that "the central security interest of Israel is to reach a negotiated solution to the conflicts with its neighbours, and any US official who wants to be pro-Israel has to make sure US policy is focused on that." It advocates a more engaged, Bill Clinton-esque policy; several of its council members were Clinton officials. Ben-Ami argues that many American politicians already believe in this approach, but keep quiet for fear that Aipac will ruin their careers.
The source of Aipac's power is slightly mysterious. It does not raise money itself, and even the dozens of political action committees (PACs) with which it is reckoned to work provide minuscule sums. When Hillary Clinton, who enjoys a relatively high approval rating from Aipac, ran for the Senate in 2006, she had raised over $51m during the previous five years, almost all of it from private individuals. Less than $55,000 over her entire career came from PACs believed to be under Aipac's influence. (The figures are from opensecrets.org and the Washington Report on Middle East Affairs, both of which track campaign finances.)
Instead, Aipac seems to have congressmen convinced that it speaks for the big private fundraisers who collect the bulk of Jewish campaign contributions. This is surprising, given that while Aipac's policies are in line with the hawkish wing of the Republican party, most Jews vote Democrat and a sizeable chunk of the Democratic party's contributions is thought to come from Jews. Moreover, as Gorenberg pointed out in Prospect, Israel is not the number one election issue for most Jewish voters. But those for whom it is tend to hold the most extreme views, so theirs are the voices that get heard.
If this is true, then Aipac's influence is a myth that should be fairly easy to burst. J Street aims to start small, by raising money for half a dozen candidates through its own PAC and a group of well-known Jewish fundraisers. Its advisory board includes names like Morton Halperin, the head of advocacy for billionaire George Soros's Open Society Institute, and Alan Solomont, a former head of fundraising for the Democratic National Committee. That should convince politicians that views among Jewish donors and voters are actually much more diverse. "We're releasing people from these bonds," Ben-Ami says.
Still, expectations shouldn't climb too high. First, J Street has formidable opponents: not just Aipac, but the Christian right, whose pockets are deep and whose support for Israel is unquestioning.
Second, while J Street has a few Republicans among its supporters, its list of backers means it is bound to be portrayed as a mainly Democratic body, whereas Aipac is good at harnessing support in both parties. This is where Etzioni's criticism hits home: for J Street to position itself as the anti-Aipac could be a political mistake.
Third, the traditional Israel lobby might manage to portray J Street not just as partisan but, worse, as anti-Israel. Shlomo Ben-Ami (no relation to Jeremy), a former Israeli foreign minister and one of 20 prominent Israelis who signed a letter endorsing J Street, says they insisted that "we won't support a lobby that puts pressure on Israel." But the line between constructive engagement and pressure is a fine one, and easy for rivals to blur.
Fourth, most US policy on Israel emanates from the administration, not congress. The legislators are better at throwing up obstacles than at initiating their own policies. At best, therefore, J Street can provide a congress that is more supportive of a president who favours getting stuck into the peace process, like (presumably) Barack Obama. It will have little effect if a more sceptical leader enters the White House.
Finally, J Street's credibility in Washington will depend partly on how much backing it gets in Israel itself. It is true that Aipac has remained stagnant while Israeli politics has moved on. Both Ehud Olmert, the prime minister, and Tzipi Livni, the foreign minister, were once vigorously opposed to surrendering the occupied territories. Now they are trying to negotiate a peace deal.
Yet even centrist, pro-peace talks Israeli politicians might well fear that if they back J Street they could expose themselves to accusations of treachery from the Israeli right. This is particularly likely in an American election year. Israeli press coverage of the US election is often simplistic and sensationalist, focusing, Aipac-style, on which candidate is "good for Israel." A cartoon in the daily Ma'ariv in January portrayed Barack Obama painting the White House black, with the caption "The House is White, but not for long."
Both in Israel and America, therefore, it will take time for politicians to stick their heads above the parapet. But if even a few of them do so and come out none the worse for it, J Street will have shown that the Israel lobby is less powerful than it—or congress—believes.
