Birth of a Nation: 1991–2025

Israel has been through many wars since its independence.  While it is always dangerous to prepare for the next war on the assumption that it will mimic the last one, it is foolhardy not to learn the costly lessons provided by the prior conflict.  One does not keep building the Maginot Line.  So we remember–and learn.

In 1956, we learned that having strong allies is highly beneficial, until they keep you from completing the victory.

In June 1967, we saw the advantage of acting preemptively.

On Yom Kippur 1973 and October 7, 2023, we learned the high cost of overconfidence, arrogance, misjudging the enemy and allowing it to take the prerogative.

On June 13, 2025, we remembered how to use planning and surprise and meticulous execution to overwhelm and overpower the enemy.

But the bold, decisive, and momentous decision of President Trump to commit the armed forces of the United States to the battle against a nuclear Iran put me in mind not of those, but of the 1991 Gulf War, when Israel’s role was limited to one of self-control and restraint.  The United States wanted a unified coalition representing civilization arrayed against the barbaric forces of Saddam Hussein. It intentionally omitted Israel, on the possibly sound theory that the presence of Israel might offend the Arab countries it deemed essential to the effort and fracture the coalition.

Saddam Hussein launched 39 Scud missiles at Israeli cities, perhaps because he wanted to strike at the hated Zionist entity before his inevitable defeat, or perhaps in an attempt to provoke an Israeli military response and antagonize the Arab participants in the coalition.

Israel allowed itself to be persuaded, or bribed, or cajoled by the United States to stay on the sidelines.  It did not retaliate, focusing instead on civil defense, distribution of gas masks, and deployment of Patriot anti-missile systems.  The unity of the coalition was preserved and Israel learned the necessity and value of air defense systems, with the result that we have the life-saving and history-changing Iron Dome and its progeny.

My oldest son, Yoni, was studying in a yeshiva for his gap year during the war.  I advised him to come home.  He said, “Abba, you taught us that Israel is our homeland, and that we should be loyal to her, and that we should never run away from a fight.”  I responded, “I may have said the first two.  But I grew up in Newark, New Jersey.  I never told you not to run away from a fight.”

In any event, he stayed, and I joined a bunch of Jewish Federation solidarity missions to support the Jewish homeland, but mostly to visit my son.  Israel was empty.  Hotels were closed.  I was one of a handful of guests at the King David Hotel (solidarity missions travel in style).  The mood was somber and despondent.  Everyone just waited for the next siren with the location of the nearest shelter in mind.

Saddam’s Scuds did limited damage, except on the Israeli psyche, which was melancholy and miserable.  The Iranian onslaught against Israeli civilians–no talk about “proportionality” here–has been significantly more effective and deadly.  Yet, in contrast to 1991, the spirit in the streets is positive and unified, even effervescent and buoyant.  This is our battle, we are together, we are unified, we are on the right side of history, and we are prepared to sacrifice to preserve this precious homeland.  Israelis caught outside the country are moving heaven and earth to return to a war zone.  It is not just that we have nowhere else to go; this is the place where we belong and where we want to be.

To quote my son, and possibly, if he is correct, myself: “Israel is our homeland, we must be loyal to her, and we should never run away from a fight.”

So that’s one difference.  But it is the other one, even more striking, that I really want to talk about.

In 1991, our friend and protector, Uncle Sam, instructed us to stay out of the battle because it viewed affiliation with us as a net negative.  We were the shady or impoverished relatives, asked not to participate in the family portrait.  Being perceived as a partner of Israel meant being shunned, just by association.  How demeaning.  How shameful.

Fast forward 34 years.  Trump waited to see how successful Israel would be before committing and riding our military coattails (admittedly with a pretty impressive coat of his own).  He wanted to be on the winning side.  He wanted to be our partner in this war.  He basked in the reflection of our greatness and glory.  He was proud to be associated with us.

In 1991, the message was clear:  Israel was not  a full-fledged member of the family of nations.

In 2025, the message is even more clear.  Israel not only has a place at the table. Its place may be at the head of the table.  We fought the world’s battle, and the world stayed on the sidelines.  The United States might not even have had the will to engage in this decisive battle for the future of humanity but for the courage, determination, skill, and execution of its proud partner, Israel.  Granted that we are no more popular with the nations of the world than before, but they (and we) know that our place is no longer on the sidelines, following orders. 

No one can confidently predict what the future holds.  Did the Iranians preserve their enriched uranium; will they acquire nuclear warheads; will they strike out in desperation against Israel and the U.S.?  Unclear.

But one thing is quite clear as we survey the current scene and remember where we were in 1991.  We’ve come a long way.  And we should be very proud.