Once, not so long ago, the United States knew how to draw red lines for Israel.
In the 1950s, when Israel’s appetite for territory clashed with the fragile new world order, U.S. President Dwight D. Eisenhower was willing to use real leverage. In 1956, after Israel joined Britain and France in the invasion of Egypt, Eisenhower forced a withdrawal. He held up aid, applied economic pressure, and made it clear that no amount of lobbying in Washington could override the principle that aggression must be curbed.
A few decades later, Henry Kissinger, who served as the secretary of state and national security advisor during the 1970s and who was not a sentimental idealist, orchestrated a calculated reassessment. Shipments of F-4 Phantoms and other weapons were delayed to compel Israeli concessions in Sinai. When Israel bombed Iraq’s nuclear reactor in 1981, President Ronald Reagan suspended deliveries of F-16 fighter jets. Even President Harry S. Truman, the first to recognize Israel, was mindful of setting limits. Each of these leaders understood that unconditional support was neither in America’s moral interest nor in its strategic interest.
Today, in contrast, Israel has committed atrocities in the past two years on a scale that dwarfs anything in its early history: tens of thousands dead in Gaza, the systematic destruction of civilian infrastructure, and the deliberate strangulation of humanitarian relief. Yet Washington cannot muster even the symbolic gestures it once used – no suspension of shipments, no meaningful debate on aid, not even the brief performance of moral outrage.
Donald Trump branded himself “the great negotiator,” the dealmaker who could tame any adversary and bend any ally to his will. And yet, in practice, he has proven unable or unwilling to apply even the smallest measure of pressure when it mattered most. No hold on the missiles. No pause on the bombs. No reminders of America’s own legal obligations under the Arms Export Control Act. Compared to Eisenhower, Truman or even Reagan, Trump never laid a finger on the scale.
What has changed? Surely not the evidence of war crimes. If anything, it is overwhelming. Surely not America’s capacity to influence events; the weapons still flow almost entirely on U.S.-funded contracts.
No, what has changed is the willingness to act as if Israel is an ally accountable to rules. Today, a grotesque inversion has taken hold: Israel, funded and armed by the United States, commits atrocities at an unprecedented pace, while America, once the only power capable of restraint, has reduced itself to a chorus of tepid statements and televised shrugs.
This is not a strength. It is abdication. It is the deliberate forfeiting of every precedent that once allowed American presidents to say: enough.
Americans deserve to know that their tax dollars, their weapons and their diplomatic cover are underwriting destruction on a historic scale. And that the legacy of presidents who dared to say “no,” even for a few weeks, is now buried under the rubble of Gaza.
