From Beirut to Jerusalem

Thomas L. Friedman

56 pages 1-hour read

Thomas L. Friedman

From Beirut to Jerusalem

Nonfiction | Autobiography / Memoir | Adult | Published in 1989

A modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.

Chapters 15-17Chapter Summaries & Analyses

Chapter 15 Summary: “Under the Spotlight”

Friedman turns to the question of why Israel is such a consistent source of public fascination in the United States. He finds part of the reason in the “super story” of the Jews (428), tracing back to biblical times into the dramatic progression to the founding of Israel, an event that many American Christians regard as theologically significant. At the same time, the mainstream media in the US tends, in Friedman’s opinion, to focus disproportionately on the suffering of Palestinians. Friedman links these two facts and hypothesizes that “the Western press wants to crush the messianic notion Jews gave to the West that human history and politics can lead to something better” (433), which might expose the deficiencies of the Western nations themselves. The West puts Israel on a pedestal and then they enjoy knocking it down, such as by making grotesque comparisons between Israel and the Nazis.


Despite these criticisms, the American public is also eager for good news about Israeli behavior, cheering them on as they seek to “build a ‘normal’ state in the one land that was totally abnormal” (438). Israel has also worked extremely hard to publicize itself abroad, its economic dependence on the United States making it highly conscious of its press coverage. All of this combined to produce a distorted picture in the American news media, where the fixation on Israel was so complete that while it depicted the suffering of Palestinians, it never really gave the Palestinians a chance to tell their own story: “The West seems to be talking about them, [but] it doesn’t really seem to be feeling for them” (445). Israelis were more Westernized and more effective at advancing their side of the story to American audiences, but they could also go overboard in their attempts to paint themselves as the real victims. Some Israelis wished they could be reported on like they were any other country, but Friedman thinks they should seek to avoid a situation where “the West no longer expects anything exceptional from Israel and Israel no longer expects anything exceptional from itself” (450).

Chapter 16 Summary: “Israel and American Jews: Who Is Dreaming About Whom?”

As a young man, Friedman considered himself fully Jewish and fully American—proud of what the Jewish state had accomplished and yet not willing to give up his own nationality. After having reported on Israel for several years, Friedman became aware of how the symmetry between those identities, which he had always assumed, was beginning to fray and had been since the Six-Day War, the moment which had given a young Friedman a sense of dualism in the first place. For decades, American Jews looked at Israel like “a bomb shelter” (454), both a refuge and a reminder of continued danger.


After 1967, it seemed like Jews no longer needed to fear the outside world, and Israel itself, rather than the faith, could become a central aspect of Jewish pride. This helped many Jewish Americans turn support for Israel into a near-universal position in US politics, affections which Israel eagerly reciprocated. But while Israelis and American Jews “began dating and fell in love after 1967, they never got married” and so sentiments were practically bound to fade (461). Closer economic ties meant that Jews began immigrating to America, and with the US providing enormous military support, Israelis came to resent a feeling of dependence that flouted their sense of rugged independence. Many Israelis, especially on the right wing, criticized American Jews for not fully living out their Judaism. After the 1973 war, American Jews likewise ceased viewing the Israelis as “supermen” (469), and in response to the emergence of American-influenced Reform synagogues, some Israeli politicians tried to limit Israeli citizenship to Orthodox and Conservative Jews.


Friedman himself became an unwilling participant in the drama between Israelis and American Jews when his unflattering reporting on the Israeli invasion of Lebanon made him “the most hated man in New York City” (478). But by the time of the Intifada, his critiques were nowhere near as controversial. He jokes that “all that many [Israelis and American Jews] have in common is Bruce Springsteen and the E-Street Band” (481, possibly misidentifying Springsteen, who was raised Catholic, as Jewish). Friedman finds that younger Jews are less emotionally attached to Israel, and as a result do not feel the need to take action when they misbehave, as though such was their responsibility as Jews. The more Israelis became cognizant of this disconnect, the more they revived a sense of their own vulnerability and an awareness of the fact that not even their ultimate champion on the world stage was reliable in the end. Eventually, American Jews must come to realize that Israel cannot simply become another country like America and that American Jews are not going to become a facsimile of Israelis.

Chapter 17 Summary: “Conclusion: From Beirut to Jerusalem to Washington”

While taking his wife and young daughters out to lunch one day, a stone from a Palestinian cracked the windshield of their car. The Times had already offered him a job back in the United States, and so the incident seemed like a fitting end to his time in the Middle East. The region had changed considerably, but Friedman wondered how, instead of modernizing, the region had somehow gone back into a primordial tribalism. He had spent the better part of a decade reporting, only for friends back home to shake their heads and dismiss Lebanon and the Israeli/Palestinian conflict as a lost cause; besides, “in an age of 99-cent-a-gallon gasoline, who needs it anyway?” (496).


Yet Friedman still hopes, after all he saw and experienced, that the United States has a lot to offer the region—it cannot solve their problems for them, but it can facilitate reconciliation, much as it did between Egypt and Israel in the late 1970s. It should not take every gesture of goodwill seriously, but America’s irrepressible optimism can be combined with a stark realism to show how peace might be possible, without harboring any illusions regarding the obstacles along the way. Friedman believes it possible to balance an attitude of “cut-the-crap-let’s-get-down-to-business” (502), ready to negotiate but also to draw firm lines, and “be a real-son-of-a-bitch” (505) when it comes to thoroughly hostile actors such as Iran. There is no guarantee that the United States can effectively take on any of these roles, much less balance them effectively, but it is the last, best hope of “liberating Arabs and Israelis from the chains of their past” (509).

Chapters 15-17 Analysis

Friedman has described his personal politics as “radical centrist” (such as in the July 23, 2011, column for the New York Times), which he claims sets him apart from the increasingly partisan tones of US politics. This does not mean that Friedman finds himself in the middle of every issue, but at least with respect to the Middle East, his positions have ranged so widely across the ideological spectrum that one could reasonably find a mean around the center between otherwise radical positions. This attitude partially reflects Friedman’s understanding of his responsibility as a journalist. Penning a long series of relatively short columns means finding a kernel of truth in a particular place and time, even when it differs from or contradicts the truth that one had discovered before. Yet Friedman also understands his role as a correspondent, and later columnist, as helping the American people to see themselves by learning about the outside world and their duties toward it.


In the lead-up to and immediate aftermath of the Iraq War, Friedman was an eager supporter of the invasion, and some of his arguments at the closing of this book are present in his later advocacy, such as the idea of the United States as the only power capable of bringing the Middle East out of its tribalist squalor, as well as his belief that the administration of tough love was key to that effort. In the final pages of the book, he calls for American diplomats to “play hardball” (508), and suggests that the people of the region desperately want and need such tough-mindedness to realize their hopes for a better life. While such rhetoric was more common at the time, similar pronouncements are now often criticized for their perceived paternalism.


At the time of writing, Friedman was confident that “Islamic fundamentalism […] may no longer play the seemingly all-pervasive [role it] once did in guiding the actions of certain political elites in the Middle East” (507). But the September 11 attacks told Friedman that such ideas were back in force and that no peace would be possible so long as they held sway. Accordingly, in a May 29, 2003, interview with Charlie Rose, he called for American soldiers to go “house to house, from Basra to Baghdad” to enforce the idea of an “open society” at the barrel of a gun. Such sentiments would appear to place him on the neoconservative, rightward edge of US politics, but since Hamas’s attacks on October 7, 2023, Friedman has been among the most prominent voices calling for a Palestinian state to be established as soon as possible (“A Biden Doctrine for the Middle East is Forming. And It’s Big.” New York Times, January 31, 2024). He writes that no amount of retribution against Hamas will dull the urge for Palestinian self-determination. These two positions are held together by the common assumption that American power and influence can and ought to do the most good possible.


Friedman’s later writings, such as The World Is Flat (2005) and That Used to Be Us (2011), are concerned primarily with American decline, whether relative to more productive foreigners or due to waning faith in its own historical mission. While most of Friedman’s treatment of The Fragility of Political Identity deals with Lebanon, Israel, and Palestine, his closing paragraph wonders if “America just doesn’t have the energy anymore” to do the great things it once did (509). Without at all diminishing the challenges, Friedman believes that the mission of modernizing the Middle East is important for shoring up American political identity, in addition to healing the tribal rifts of the Middle East. This assumption may be up for debate, but it is the most consistent throughline of his long and influential career.

blurred text
blurred text
blurred text

Unlock all 56 pages of this Study Guide

Get in-depth, chapter-by-chapter summaries and analysis from our literary experts.

  • Grasp challenging concepts with clear, comprehensive explanations
  • Revisit key plot points and ideas without rereading the book
  • Share impressive insights in classes and book clubs