Qassam rockets rain down on Negev towns; suicide bombings have reappeared; Israel is maintaining a blockade on the Gaza Strip with periodic invasions that are growing in severity; Hezbollah is re-arming itself in a chaotic Lebanon; and the fear of a nuclear Iran remains. It seems an odd time to say that Israel is now in the best position it has ever been to normalize its existence.

But that is precisely the case, and Israel's sixtieth birthday is the perfect opportunity to see this.

Israel has been at the center of global intrigue for so long, it's hard now to recall the idealism in which it was born. But sixty years ago, the first citizens of Israel dreamt of a country that was both Jewish and democratic, and that was welcomed fully into the family of nations and at peace with its neighbors.

Today, the view of Israel around the world is at its lowest point ever. Yet it has also been offered full recognition and normal relations by the entire Arab world, and all the negative press it has received has not eroded the general support in the West for its continued existence as a Jewish state.

Had this Arab offer been proposed even twenty years ago, most Israelis would have wept in joy at the prospect and leapt at it. But today, Israel is hesitant to extend its hand to that offer, even while it has acknowledged it as a positive step. What's changed, and how can we change it back?

Living By The Sword

Beginning with the very birth of the country in 1948, Israelis have lived each day with the sense that their neighbors want to destroy them. One can debate whether Arab determination toward that goal has waned, but that doesn't change the very real feelings Israelis have or their historical basis.

Modern historical research has shown that the Arab effort in 1948 to eliminate Israel in its infancy was half-hearted, but the war still cost Israel one percent of its population. Even if the facts on the ground were not in line with the mythos of the Israeli David triumphing over the Arab Goliath, it was still a stunning triumph, and one which cemented the central place the Israeli military holds in Israeli hearts and minds.

Technically, that war never ended. An armistice was reached, but a state of war remained with Egypt until 1979, with Jordan until 1994, and is still in place with Lebanon, Syria and Iraq.

War flared again in 1956, 1967 and 1973. Israel learned to live by the sword, and this was only reinforced as it moved away from fighting other countries back toward fighting the Palestinians.

The 1982 invasion of Lebanon, which led to Israel's eighteen year occupation of southern Lebanon, an era many compared to America's Vietnam quagmire, was followed five years later by the first Intifada. Even the Oslo years were marked, in the mid-1990s, by an upsurge in terrorist attacks and, until early 2000, by the ongoing violence in southern Lebanon.

In the twenty-first century, Israel has seen the worst violence with the Palestinians since the 1948 war. In 2006, it also experienced its first significant cross-border conflict since 1973, as war broke out with Hezbollah.

That's a lot of fighting, and it's meant that Israel, which from its birth has focused on its military abilities, has become even more mistrustful of diplomatic initiatives. This feeling has been reinforced in recent years by the Israeli government's embrace of George W. Bush's style of international relations. That style is best described as "shoot first and ask questions if it happens to be convenient later."

The Right Flowers and the Jewish Mainstream Wilts

It isn't hard to see that with all that militarism in the mix, and the very real threats Israel has faced, an aggressive, right-wing element has moved consistently closer to the forefront, in both Israeli politics and among Israel's supporters throughout the Jewish world.

Although Israel and the pre-state Zionist movement were both founded upon a strong, universal idealism, they were also nationalist movements that were forged under great hardship. From the first, idealism and nationalism contended for supremacy in the Zionist movement, and nationalism won more often than not.

But that is not to say that idealism did not play a major role in the ideology of both Zionism and the Israeli state. Indeed, one of the oldest fears of the Zionist settlers was that they would rule over an underclass of Arab peasants. It is that fear that continues to resonate today and makes Israelis so sensitive to accusations of apartheid.

Still, with each military victory and with each passing year of living under threat of war, Israelis became more and more receptive to the idea of sacrificing some of their idealism for the sake of security. "Security" eventually became a sort of blanket covering virtually any action by the state, a condition under which the right wing is sure to flourish.

In 1967, after the euphoric victory that both brought the holiest of Jewish sites under Israeli control and started what is now forty-one years of occupation of millions of Palestinians, Israeli militarism was bolstered by a massive new wave of religious Zionism, best seen in the settlement movement. At the same time, support for Israel among progressive and secular Jews remained at an extreme high.

This zenith of popular support began to wear away almost immediately. The beginning of the occupation planted seeds of discontent among both Israeli and Diaspora Jews. The 1982 invasion of Lebanon led to the birth of peace movements both in Israel and throughout the Jewish world.

Yet, even as Jews in Israel and abroad increasingly question Israeli policies toward the occupation, Israeli policymakers continue in the same militaristic path. Israeli policy continues to be much more reflective of the influence of the settlers in the West Bank and their supporters than the various peace groups in and out of Israel. Why is that? A personal story may help to illuminate part of the problem.

A Tale of Two Rallies

In 2004, I attended two rallies in Israel within days of each other. The first was a peace rally in Jerusalem, outside the Prime Minister's office. It was an evening affair, with thousands of attendees. There were many speeches, and people milled about, talking with each other, not listening much and rising in applause at various points, mostly at the end of speeches.

Everywhere I walked at that rally there were groups of friends talking with each other. One got the feeling of a gathering of a disparate, atomized community brought together to support a cause, but otherwise with little connection amongst them. The general level of energy was neither particularly lethargic nor particularly enthusiastic. Several times as I meandered through the crowd, I ran into friends and colleagues. We'd talk for a while and move on.

It was a successful rally, as far as it went. It drew the numbers and filled the plaza, which was the important thing. But it was far from a powerful event.

A few days later, a friend and I decided to surreptitiously tag along with the people going to the Gaza settlement of Gush Katif to protest Ariel Sharon's disengagement plan. This was a whole different atmosphere.

This was a powerful gathering, flowing with energy. Passions were deeply stirred by these folks' opposition to Sharon's disengagement plan, but there was more to it than that. While getting to the rally, which was attended by far more people than the site or the available transportation could handle, was difficult--a typical encounter with the aggressive and impatient nature of many Israelis--the rally itself pulsed with a sense of community.

People came up to us and just started friendly conversation. People offered each other water. The Gush Katif residents opened their homes to strangers, including us. All around us was a powerful sense of community, of people making common cause. The settlers both depended on their fellows and were there for their fellows to depend on.

Speak About Israel, For Israel

The difference between the two rallies reflects the difference in enthusiasm and energy between the peace camp and the settlement movement. Prime Minister Ehud Barak's failure at the Camp David negotiations in 2000 (a failure he wrongly blamed on the Palestinians), along with the concurrent rise of the Second Intifada, proved to be a devastating blow to the Israeli peace camp.

The myth that the Palestinians were responsible for the failures of Camp David also strengthened the forces that opposed compromise with the Palestinians, since they argued that this failure "proved" that the Palestinians were not interested in peace, only Israel's destruction. While most American Jews, like Israelis, still support a two-state solution, it is difficult to overcome these obstacles and speak out for an American policy that supports Israeli peacemaking over military solutions. This is especially so given the need to support that peacemaking without undermining Israel's very real need for military support.

As a result, both in Israel and in the Diaspora, Jewish communities that support diplomacy are represented by those who lean much more heavily on military solutions. In a very real sense, this represents a Jewish abdication of its responsibility to help and support Israel.

I am reminded of the words of the late Yehoshafat Harkabi, the chief of Israeli intelligence in the late 1950s and one of the few Israeli leaders of the day who was not only fluent in Arabic, but was also extremely well-versed in Arab culture and in Islam. Harkabi was a well-known hard-liner who gradually recognized the importance of reaching a peace agreement with the Palestinians and the other Arab states. The importance of Harkabi's words bears quoting him at length:

"Given that Israel's predicament also affects Jews in the Diaspora, they too should take an active part in the debate. Israelis must allow them to do so and listen to what they have to say...they must not be banished from the discussion, and to this end they must do their homework. They must also dare to speak their minds candidly, without being afraid to disagree with Israel. The reticence of the American Jewish leadership is not to their credit. Instead of publicly expressing their concern, they act as apologists for policies and conduct of which many of them privately disapprove, abdicating their responsibilities as leaders in America and as influential advisers in Israel."

Those words were written in 1988, but they are even more relevant today. Harkabi spoke of a "Zionism of quality, not acreage." This is the ethos to which American Jews need to return today if Israel is to flourish. And the time is ripe for that ethos to regain its supremacy.

A New Pro-Israel Politic

I spoke earlier of the Arab League's offer to make peace and establish fully normal relations with Israel in exchange for its withdrawal from the West Bank, Gaza, East Jerusalem and the Golan Heights and the creation of a joint agreement on Palestinian refugees. No one, including the Arab League, expects Israel to simply accept that offer, but even Ehud Olmert acknowledged that it was a positive step, recognizing that it was an opening offer for negotiations.

With the abysmal failure of George W. Bush's Middle East policy -- which has been a significant factor in strengthening Hamas and leading Israel into its most violent period since its birth -- more and more Jews and Americans in general recognize the need for changes in American policy. Even so staunch a pro-Israel politician as Rep. Gary Ackerman (D-NY) has chided the White House for its refusal to even pretend to be an honest broker between Israel and the Palestinians and the Israelis for reneging on promises to dismantle illegal settlement outposts.

Once Bush leaves office, there will be a real chance to revise American policy. We can fashion a policy that supports Israel by pushing it to compromise with its Arab neighbors. But in order for that to happen, there must be support for such a new policy among Israel's supporters here. Such support will be felt not only in Washington but also in Jerusalem, if it is strong enough.

That strength must come not only from political conviction but from devotion to Israel's real needs. Those needs go beyond ammunition and weaponry. We American Jews must take back the term "pro-Israel" from those who would define it as a pro-military strategy.

We can be pro-Israel without defending every single Israeli policy. Pro-Israel must come to mean supporting Israeli civil society, promoting Israeli adherence to human rights norms and relevant international law. Pro-Israel must mean promoting the end of occupation and the forging of peace agreements and normal relations with Arab leaders.

Within those parameters, supporting Israel certainly still means making sure that Israel is capable of defending itself against those forces that are more interested in Israel's demise than in peace. But Israel needs U.S. diplomatic intervention in order to navigate the treacherous political road to peace. And to get that, it needs its supporters to demand it. If we leave being pro-Israel to those who only know how to express support with guns and more settlements, what kind of Israel will we have left?

The opportunity at hand is not based on matching the money or political clout of AIPAC and other so-called "pro-Israel" organizations. But it is about matching their commitment, their ruach (spirit). That's something liberal and progressive Jews can do.

Those of us who became disillusioned with the whole Israeli-Arab mess and, perhaps perplexed by some of Israel's actions must heed the words of Harkabi. We can help Israel bring about a Zionism of quality rather than of acreage. The first step is recognizing that to support Israel, sometimes we have to criticize her. Otherwise, the only critics are those who seek to de-legitimize the state.

We can come together to demand human rights for Palestinians just as forcefully as we demand that Israelis live without fear of rockets and suicide bombings. The increasing popularity of such peace groups as the Israel Policy Forum and Brit Tzedek v'Shalom, and the various efforts to assemble a pro-Israel, pro-peace lobby, demonstrate the growing support for such ideas in the American Jewish community. With the real chance of a new White House that is more receptive to such ideas, now is the time to build that community and to raise that voice.