More than two years
after moving back from Israel, I still feel like a newbie in weird Washington.
Feel the air: so hot and humid that when it rains, it feels more like an
ancient marsh rising up from the earth. Thirsty? There’s the innovative use of
alcohol, at all times of day, as a replacement for caffeine. Now taste the
food: Even the fancy restaurants serve up bland fat-and-carb fare that’s more
wonk-fuel than cuisine.
There are special
sounds, too. Listen closely, and you will hear the noise machine.
What is the noise
machine? It’s a big, organized collection of individuals and groups that
actively promotes whatever policy the White House is pushing on a given day,
creating the impression of public support — kind of like a sailboat tugging a
huge electric fan, humming day and night, pushing the boat forward. Now, I know
that every political party and corporation on earth has its own noise machine.
But no PR effort is as well funded and sophisticatedly spun as those of the
great centers of executive political power. And with the possible exception of
the Kremlin, none is as impressive as that of the White House, under any
administration. Most people working for that noise machine are not on the
payroll of the federal government. Many are paid by supporting organizations.
Others volunteer. But you can tell who they are by their uncharacteristic
fluidity of speech — it’s easier to rehearse arguments from a talking-points
memo—and by the quickness of their outrage at seemingly trivial things.
Right now, the urgent
efforts of the noise machine are promoting a historic nuclear deal with Iran.
This makes sense: This is the signature policy effort of the past few years
(Ben Rhodes called it “The ObamaCare of the second term”). The deadline is very
soon, and it’s an obviously tough sell: Talks initiated with the stated aim of
dismantling Iran’s nuclear weapons program have morphed into a deal that feels
more like “Iran agrees to put off building its bomb until the next
administration, and in exchange they get to keep their bomb-building
capabilities, have sanctions removed, and implicitly legitimize their
expansionism, their terror support, their ballistic missiles and their human
rights abuses.” Bait, meet switch.
When somebody comes
along who threatens to seriously harm the noise machine’s efforts at such a
crucial moment, you can bet that the machine’s vast appalled galvanized
chromium umbrage will focus on them. Like when the prime minister of Israel had
the gall to accept a congressional invitation to give a speech that called for
a different approach on the Iran deal than that of the administration. Or this
year, when Israel’s former ambassador to Washington, Michael Oren, releases a
book telling of his time in Washington (“Ally: My Journey Across the American-Israeli
Divide”) and does it just when the talks are coming to a head. In it we see an
insider’s account of the dramatic change of America’s behind-the-scenes policy
toward the Iranian regime, dating all the way back to the administration’s
first year: from its tepid response to the democratic protests in 2009, to
harsh warnings against an Israeli attack on Iran’s nuclear facilities, to
actions that contradicted the official White House line that “all options are
on the table” with Iran. Without ever slipping into hyperbole, the book’s
measured narrative seems to confirm a lot of what the administration’s critics
have been accusing it of: enabling the Iranian regime rather than really trying
to stop it, while putting a vice grip on the increasingly alarmed Israelis.
Now, like about half the
people writing about this book, I have known the author personally. I worked
with him years ago, when we were both connected to the same research institute
in Jerusalem, when I edited his occasional essays at the journal Azure. We have
stayed in touch. We disagree on Israeli politics, and it’s safe to say that
he’s no Likudnik. He is also a decent person, a meticulous historian and, as
everybody knows by now, a masterful storyteller.
In his new book he tells
an incredible story that has been largely drowned out by the noise machine.
This has happened because he also does a few things that, from the White
House’s perspective, hurt a lot. None of them are unreasonable for a
professional historian who had a close-up view of history unfolding. None of
them violate codes or red lines in journalism or public debate. He analyzed not
just the policies, but also the possible motives of President Obama against his
biographical background. He gave his impressions of the uses of Jewish identity
among people defending the White House. In the interviews and columns leading
up to the launch, he repeated these themes.
This is all pretty
standard stuff, and probably wouldn’t have raised much of a storm if they had
been published at a different time. Analyzing a leader’s motivations against
the backdrop of his upbringing is no different from David Remnick of The New
Yorker analyzing the motives of Benjamin Netanyahu in light of his own father.
And risking accusations of stereotyping in order to hold a mirror to some
American Jews may be uncomfortable, but it is legitimate: Many Israelis, like
myself, react the same way when trying to understand some American Jews. Nobody
seriously worried about our collective Jewish future should want to silence that
perspective. Why, then, the freakout? The noise machine, that’s why.
Oren’s book fell into
the noise machine like a clock into a clothes dryer. There is no other way to
explain why, for example, the State Department felt that alongside its pretty
busy schedule, it should send officials to attack the book — unless they are
attacking it for the same reason that they Twitter-bombed a recent New York
Times report about the amount of nuclear fuel the Iranians are stockpiling.
When faced with a serious threat to its messaging, the noise machine goes into
action, like antibodies against a virus. But anyone without skin in the game
can see that those involved are overreacting — just as they did when Netanyahu
came to Washington, or when he said things he shouldn’t have said in the run-up
to an election and then apologized. Politicians in every democracy run for
office, say stupid things, walk them back, and everyone moves on when it’s
over. I recall Obama saying a few stupid things when he ran for president as well.
Oren has been accused of
being a politician. True — though the noise machine had no problem when the
same politician spoke critically of Netanyahu’s Washington speech during the
Israeli election campaign. He has also been accused of trying to boost book
sales — which, last I heard, are how authors make a living. But none of this
actually addresses the substance of the story he is telling, or justifies all
those well-orchestrated displays of outrage. That’s why David Rothkopf, editor
of the FP Group, who despite knowing Oren for decades still finds some of his
remarks “offensively wrong,” nonetheless argues that the reaction to the book
has been “disproportionate” and that Oren’s “views demand to be published
because they are a vital piece of evidence as to why the rift in the
U.S.-Israel relationship has become what it is.”
The most important goal
of a well-oiled noise machine, you see, is to change the subject. Instead of
addressing the criticism, it makes the messenger into the story.
But sophisticated readers
should be able to see through it. The book, you will find, is an irreplaceable
trove of insight into what will one day be seen as a momentous historical turn.
And we will be forever grateful to Oren for having written it.
David Hazony is the
editor of The Tower Magazine and is a contributing editor to the Forward.
