The Diaspora's Discontent

By Laurence I. Barrett

As darkness fell over Jerusalem's Old City last Wednesday, Orthodox Jews recited evening prayers at the Western Wall, the remains of King Herod's great temple and the symbol of the fall of Israel two millenniums ago. Armed border police stood guard against terrorists while 1,500 leaders of the Diaspora, more than half of them Americans, assembled for a "Conference on Jewish Solidarity with Israel." Mordechai Gur, commander of the troops that wrested the Old City from Jordan in 1967, read a closing proclamation: "We support the democratically elected government of national unity in its efforts to achieve peace and security with its neighbors."

The gathering, declared Prime Minister Yitzhak Shamir, was "a great success" that "demonstrated total support of all Jewish people for the State of Israel." But the fact that he found it necessary to convene such an international pep rally before his first meeting next week with President Bush underscored Shamir's well-founded worries about his standing abroad, notably in the U.S. Shamir's convocation could not disguise the growing impatience of many Jews outside Israel. They bridle at his stubborn resistance to any accommodation with the rebellious Palestinians living in the Israeli-occupied West Bank and Gaza. Nor could the event paper over his fear of the increasingly assertive attempts to force him to adopt a more flexible stance. That activism strengthens Washington's effort to prod Israel into direct talks with the Palestine Liberation Organization.

Traditionally, the politically potent American Jewish community has been a buffer against U.S. Government pressure on Israel. Though their support for Israel, as the embodiment of the Jewish people, remains as solid as the stone blocks in the Western Wall, many American Jews balked at being used as extras in Shamir's biblical unity epic. Some of those invited journeyed to Jerusalem with misgivings; others stayed home. The open criticism from American Jews is raising fears in Jerusalem, which depends on the U.S. for military and economic survival. Says Yossi Ahimeir, director of the Prime Minister's bureau: "When the U.S. Administration sees that support of American Jews for Israel is diminishing, it can allow itself to take more critical positions."

Divisions among Israelis compound Shamir's difficulties. At the start of the three-day meeting in Jerusalem, stories in Israeli newspapers described a new intelligence analysis contending that the intifadeh -- the popular uprising by Palestinians in Gaza and the West Bank -- could not be suppressed by force. Only political measures, including talks with the P.L.O., would lead to a solution.

Shamir initially denounced the stories as "lies," but later his spokesman acknowledged that the intelligence report existed. While the document offered no specific recommendations, it did say Jerusalem could no longer ignore the P.L.O. The intelligence assessment came a fortnight after a critical report from the prestigious Jaffee Center for Strategic Studies at Tel Aviv University. In a study sponsored by the American Jewish Congress, the think tank concluded that none of the long-term peace options that either Shamir or the Palestinian leadership considers acceptable have any chance to succeed. The scholars argued that moving beyond the status quo requires a long process of mutual accommodation starting with direct talks with the P.L.O. and possibly ending with creation of a circumscribed Palestinian state.

Such domestic pressure reinforces the Bush Administration's strategy: declining to put forth a made-in-Washington peace plan that Shamir would immediately reject, while allowing mounting diplomatic heat to force him to come up with his own proposal. The White House has made clear that it expects the Israeli leader to bring along some ideas when he sees Bush on April 6. At the same time, the Administration suggests modest concessions by both sides as first steps toward an eventual agreement. On Israel's part, such "confidence- building measures" would include releasing at least some Palestinians imprisoned during the intifadeh and holding elections leading to a limited form of autonomy for Gaza and the West Bank. The U.S. is also urging Jerusalem to start talking to Palestinian leaders who live in the occupied territories but do not belong to the P.L.O. Much to Shamir's displeasure, Secretary of State James Baker declared last week that it would be a "major mistake" to rule out direct Israeli-P.L.O. negotiations in the likely event that no Palestinian leader would sit down with the Israelis without the approval of the P.L.O.

Though P.L.O. chief Yasser Arafat has become more flexible and wily in his diplomacy, his organization's intransigence nearly matches Shamir's. In his first formal session with the P.L.O. last week, a four-hour meeting in Carthage, U.S. Ambassador to Tunisia Robert Pelletreau failed to persuade Arafat's representatives to order a halt to the rock throwing and other violence of the intifadeh. The rebuff, together with continued raids from Lebanese territory, showed that progress toward a settlement is more than a matter of moving Shamir's government.

Still, Arafat's recognition of Israel's right to exist -- expressed in language acceptable to Washington if not to Jerusalem -- has altered the political dynamics. The fact that five prominent American Jews coaxed Arafat until he finally got his rhetoric right in December demonstrated the changing role of American Jewry. When one of the quintet, Menachem Rosensaft, returned from the Stockholm meeting with Arafat, an effort was made to oust him as head of the Labor Zionist Alliance and member of the Conference of Presidents of Major American Jewish Organizations. He survived the attempted purge, and remains a vehement critic of Likud policy. "I am particularly troubled," he says, "by the arrogant position that they do not have to come forward with anything constructive."

. Most of the leaders of mainstream Jewish organizations are more circumspect in their public utterances, but they have been bombarding Jerusalem with private warnings that Shamir is losing support in the U.S. Both the Conference of Presidents and the American Israel Public Affairs Committee ignored Jerusalem's cue to protest Washington's decision to deal with the P.L.O. Moreover, there has been a growing inclination by Jewish leaders to display what has been quietly obvious for years: a preference for the Israeli Labor Party's more flexible approach. Theodore Mann, former head of the American Jewish Congress, argues that Jewish activists should "try to make a difference. Through some process there should be an exchange of land for peace with security."

A poll sponsored by the American Jewish Committee shows similar feelings among rank-and-file American Jews. The survey found that 58% of American Jews endorse and 18% oppose Israeli-P.L.O. negotiations, provided Arafat's recognition of Israel and renunciation of terrorism are genuine. The poll found that, by a lesser margin, they favor Labor over Likud.

The strongest consensus in the poll was opposition by 86% to a change in Israeli law "so as to recognize only those conversions performed by Orthodox rabbis." When last fall's election gave neither Likud nor Labor a clear majority, each considered forming a coalition with ultra-Orthodox religious parties. The price would have been high: giving the fanatic religious groups exclusive power over the religious conversion of immigrants to Israel. By implication, the legitimacy of Conservative and Reform Jews would have been undermined. Outraged protests from abroad helped torpedo that idea and forced creation of another inaptly named "unity" government joining Likud and Labor. It also made it easier for Diaspora Jews to vent their unease over other issues. Says Alexander Schindler, head of the U.S. Reform movement: "The 'who-is-a-Jew' issue gave license for many to express their cumulative distress."

Still, that distress has limits. Neither Schindler nor many other prominent leaders are ready to write off Shamir as hopeless. There is also understandable skepticism about the genuineness of Arafat's conversion to moderation. Despite the anguish over Israel's harsh response to the intifadeh, donations to the United Jewish Appeal and the purchase of Israel bonds continue to grow.

Ten years ago last week, another adamant Likud leader, Menachem Begin, signed a peace treaty with Egypt and embraced his foe, Anwar Sadat. At a meeting of Israel-bond volunteers in Washington commemorating that breakthrough, Nobel laureate Elie Wiesel movingly evoked the dilemma felt by many Jews. Wiesel, a survivor of the Holocaust, warned against allowing frustration over the absence of peace to be translated into disunity. "I feel so much gratitude to the people of Israel and to the State of Israel," he said, "that I simply cannot bring myself to become a judge over my people."

That is the emotional chain that has bound America's 6 million Jews to Israel's 3.6 million. Together with their fears of Arab animosity, the connection has maintained Jewish solidarity for decades. But the nature of that unity is being redefined. With many Israelis openly yearning for a change in direction, American Jews now feel free to help them bring it about.

With reporting by Ricardo Chavira/Washington and Robert Slater/Jerusalem