On Israel, Biden Is No Reagan
The current president’s arms embargo is a betrayal and puts the Jewish state in much greater danger.
Superficially, the parallels between the U.S.-Israel relationship in the early 1980s and today may appear compelling. Reagan and Prime Minister Menachem Begin got along no better than Mr. Biden and Benjamin Netanyahu. Then as now, the deeper U.S.-Israeli differences were strategic. The Reagan administration fumed at Israeli actions, often taken with little advance notice to Washington, that it felt put U.S. interests in jeopardy by risking war and the revival of Soviet influence in the Arab world. Reagan suspended the delivery of F-16s twice in 1981 and again in early 1983, the last in response to Israel’s intervention in Lebanon, siege of Beirut, and rejection of the “Reagan plan” for Israeli-Palestinian peace.
Mr. Biden seeks to stymie Israel’s plan to attack Rafah, Hamas’s last bastion and also the refuge for upward of one million displaced Palestinians. The president worries about the humanitarian consequences and no doubt is concerned that backlash in the Arab world would wreck any remaining chances for Saudi-Israeli normalization and play into China’s hands.
Yet the profound differences between the early 1980s and now outweigh the similarities. Israel’s justification for intervening in Lebanon was an attempt on the life of the Israeli ambassador to the U.K. The intervention was the culmination of years of tension between Israel and the Palestine Liberation Organization, Syria and their various Lebanese allies. The present-day conflict in Gaza, in contrast, was triggered by the worst terrorist attack on Israel in its history—one that was unprovoked and utterly depraved, and that followed a period of U.S.-Israeli-Arab coordination on Gaza.
Unlike Reagan, Mr. Biden is reversing policy and betraying a pledge of support. Reagan made his opposition clear before Israel’s intervention in Lebanon. Secretary of State Alexander Haig told Begin, “If you move, you move alone.” Mr. Biden expressed strong support for Israel’s aims in Gaza until the going got tough, domestically for him as well as internationally.
Reagan’s suspension of F-16 deliveries was largely symbolic. It didn’t hamper the Jewish state’s ability to prosecute its war, as the Pentagon continued delivering missiles for Israel’s existing fighters. Mr. Biden’s action could prevent Israel from taking Rafah or even applying meaningful military pressure on Hamas in hopes of securing a hostage deal—which may prolong the war further.
Reagan faced more international pressure than Mr. Biden does to keep his distance from Israel. In the 1980s, the Arab world (and much of Washington’s national-security establishment) was deeply anti-Israel. Today, the Abraham Accords have survived the fighting in Gaza, and Saudi Arabia remains interested in normalization with Israel despite the conflict.
Yet the greatest difference may lie in the nature of the U.S.-Israel relationship. In the early 1980s, it had long been described as “special” but was seen as rooted in history and morality rather than truly strategic. Reagan is remembered as having been among America’s most pro-Israel presidents because he institutionalized the U.S.-Israel relationship. It was on his watch that regular military and economic aid to Israel began, that the first U.S.-Israel strategic memorandum of understanding was signed, and that the close coordination we now take for granted was set in motion.
Under Reagan, the U.S. learned that these mechanisms of partnership—rather than threats and punishments—were our most effective tools for shaping Israeli policies. This is the lesson and the legacy that Mr. Biden ignores, to America’s peril as well as Israel’s.
Mr. Singh is managing director of the Washington Institute for Near East Policy.