An unquestioned blindspot by Lucas Durand

Every four years, Americans line up to vote for what they hope is change. Be it red, blue, young, old, progressive, conservative, from Queens or from Scranton, there’s always a campaign promise that sounds like a fresh page in history. And yet, amid the swings in climate policy, healthcare reforms, tax code tweaks, or foreign affairs pivots, there remains one constant so unwavering you’d think it was engraved into the granite of the Lincoln Memorial: Unconditional support for Israel, no questions asked

Presidents come and go. Their hair grays and their memoirs grow fatter. Some get Nobel prizes, others impeachment trials. But when it comes to Israel, it’s the same scripted play, just with different actors delivering the lines. One starts to wonder: What exactly does Israel have on the United States? Is it just deep-rooted alliance, or something more akin to diplomatic hypnosis?

Let’s get one thing straight before the moralists arrive with flaming tweets: questioning the nature of the U.S.-Israel relationship is not anti-Israel, nor is it anti-Semitic. It is, brace yourself, what democracy is supposed to do: hold foreign policy accountable, especially when it starts looking like blind allegiance rather than strategic alliance.

Whether it’s a Republican drawing red lines or a Democrat offering carefully worded “concern,” the U.S. response to Israeli actions, especially those involving Palestinians, rarely diverges from total support. If Israel flattens Gaza in “self-defense,” it gets more military aid. If settlements expand in violation of international law, it gets a mild slap on the wrist, followed by another multi-billion-dollar aid package. If a U.S. president dares to express actual disapproval (see: Obama and Netanyahu’s frosty tango), they’re painted domestically as being "weak on Israel" or worse, "anti-Israel." And yet, the cost is increasingly obvious.

The U.S. has lost credibility in global diplomatic circles, especially in the Global South. It claims to champion human rights, but goes mute when the IDF’s bombs hit hospitals. It scolds others for violating international law, yet routinely uses its veto in the UN to shield Israel from accountability. Students protesting against this inconsistency are branded extremists. And when actual Jewish Americans criticize Israel’s policies? The hypocrisy becomes so thick it could replace bulletproof glass.

So again ...why? Why the unswerving devotion? What has Israel got on the U.S. besides ironclad lobbying and emotionally weaponized narratives?

The answer many point to is AIPAC the American Israel Public Affairs Committee, a lobbying giant so entrenched in the halls of Congress it practically comes with its own office furniture. But reducing the alliance to just lobbying is too easy, too cynical. There’s more.

There’s the Cold War residue: Israel was America’s bulwark against Soviet influence in the Middle East. There’s the shared mythology: a chosen people in a hostile land, building democracy with grit and guns. There’s the evangelical right, which supports Israel with messianic fervor (because apparently Jesus won’t return until the Holy Land is fully claimed, details, details). And of course, there’s shared military interests, defense tech, intelligence cooperation, and all the cloak-and-dagger handshakes that happen far from C-SPAN cameras.

But none of that fully explains the blanket immunity. None of it justifies why the U.S. would risk international standing, domestic division, and moral consistency for a country smaller than New Jersey.

Let’s entertain a darkly comedic thought experiment: What if it were another country, say, Argentina or Thailand, engaged in the same policies as Israel? Would the U.S. still rush to their defense, veto every UN resolution against them, and arm them to the teeth without conditions? Spoiler: Not a chance.

So what gives Israel this carte blanche? Some argue it’s guilt over the Holocaust. Others point to the cultural clout of Israel’s narrative: underdogs surrounded by enemies. But the reality is, that underdog grew into a regional Goliath long ago. It now wields one of the most advanced militaries on the planet, has nuclear weapons (though we all agree to pretend otherwise), and a government that, under Netanyahu, makes Hungary’s Orbán look like a choirboy. Yet the U.S. still behaves like Israel's overprotective stage parent, clapping wildly even when the performance is objectively a disaster.

This isn't just a moral dilemma. It's a geopolitical liability. America's unwavering support of Israel alienates potential allies, fuels radicalization, and undermines any hope of being an “honest broker” in the region. It also risks dragging the U.S. into conflicts it neither starts nor understands, where its credibility gets torched along with every school and hospital that becomes collateral damage.

And let’s not forget domestic fallout. The generational gap is widening. Young Americans, Jewish and non-Jewish, are increasingly critical of Israel’s policies. Social media has eroded the monopoly on narrative. Every bombed apartment in Gaza now comes with footage, names, hashtags. No amount of polished State Department statements can hide it. And yet, U.S. presidents, Democrat or Republican, keep giving the same line: “Israel has the right to defend itself.”

Defend itself? From what? The consequences of its own occupation?

Is it not time, perhaps overdue, for the U.S. to redefine what it means to be a “friend”? Because true friendship, like true leadership, requires accountability. It means telling hard truths, not writing blank checks.

Support Israel’s right to exist? Absolutely. Support its right to security? Of course. But support it no matter what, even when its policies echo the very oppressions America claims to oppose? That’s not diplomacy. That’s delusion.

So back to the original question: What does Israel have on the U.S.?

Maybe it’s not a secret dossier or political blackmail. Maybe it’s something far more potent: a nation addicted to its own myths, too afraid to confront its contradictions, and too entrenched in old alliances to admit that even friendships need boundaries.

Because if all a friend does is agree with you, even when you’re wrong, that’s not a friend. That’s an enabler. And the bill for enabling always comes due. Just ask history.