AIPAC CONFERENCE '96: A CRITICAL VIEW Benjamin Balint Pat Buchanan was right. When he maliciously slandered Capitol Hill's pro-Israel lobby, calling it Israel's "Amen corner," I, along with many Jews, took deep offense at yet another sign of the fiery Republican's not-so-latent anti-Semitic sentiments. On what basis did Buchanan make such allegations? Surely the Jewish lobbyists are more than mere servile puppets of the Israeli government. Surely they are critical and independent thinkers on political issues. Surely they are honest individuals who work diligently for a cause they believe in passionately. Surely not. As one of approximately 20 Yeshiva College and Stern students, and almost 1,000 undergraduates from campuses across the country attending the recent American Israel Public Affairs Committee (AIPAC) 37th Annual Policy Conference in Washington, D.C., I grew quickly disillusioned and increasingly cynical. The tone was set by Alan Dershowitz's opening diatribe, in which he declared that no matter who emerged victorious in Israel's May elections, whatever the result, the victors would have his "full support." Whether Labor or Likud, he promised to faithfully lobby on their behalf. This attitude, pervasive in the rank and file of AIPAC, poses as courageous activism, but is actually the most

subversive kind of passivism. What kind of detached apathy is it that allows a Jew to pledge advance support to such radically different visions of the future of the Jewish State? What kind of spinelessness? The rest of the sessions were generally characterized by an utter lack of real content hiding behind a superficial facade of polished verbiage. Richard Haas eloquently said nothing: the editor of George magazine mechanically read off a scripted statement; Uri Savir and Dennis Ross--the principal dipomatic architects of the Oslo Accords--slyly evaded questions rather than engage in honest debate; Shimon Peres's granddaughter (since when are diplomats' grandchildren authoritative voices on international affairs?) spouted off slick formula replies to my candid questions; and House Majority leader Dick Armey casually tossed around lofty terms like "peace" and "freedom" like so many bread crumbs to a flock of eager pigeons. In his uniquely monotonous cadence, Prime Minister Peres spoke in slogans, and unabashedly touted his own "vision" and accomplishments. His sentences were but applause fodder for the overflowing crowd, and the lectern dripped with jejune cliches: "Peace will prevail...A new Middle east will emerge, free of violence." Not to be outdone, President Clinton followed with a speech consisting of disjointed, if well-crafted sentences, including such priceless profundities as "Hezbollah and Hamas will not succeed." He exited to enthusiastic chants of "Four more years." Benjamin Balint is a junior at Yeshiva University.

Outpost               - 10 -               May 1996