The bond between the United States and Israel has remained extraordinarily close for three decades. The United States has remained in lockstep with Israel through the heady days of the 1990s peace process with the Palestine Liberation Organization; the second intifada, the five-year Palestinian uprising that began in 2000; and then, over the next two decades, a series of conflicts in Gaza and Lebanon. The bond endured through Hamas’s October 7, 2023, terrorist attack on Israel and the ensuing war in Gaza, with two U.S. presidential administrations providing largely unconditional diplomatic and military support to Israel.

But the Gaza war has also made clear that maintaining this type of bilateral relationship comes with steep costs. With few exceptions—most notably the cease-fire that went into effect in early October 2025—Washington has struggled without success to shape Israel’s conduct of the war. That failure is not an anomaly; it is rooted in the nature of the U.S.-Israeli relationship. Although the United States and the United Kingdom may have a “special relationship,” the United States and Israel have an “exceptional relationship”: Israel receives treatment that no other ally or partner enjoys. When other countries buy U.S. weapons, the sales are subject to a bevy of U.S. laws; Israel has never truly been compelled to comply. Other partners refrain from displaying overt preferences for one American political party; Israel’s leaders do so and face no consequences. And Washington does not typically defend another country’s policies that are contrary to its own, nor does it block mild criticism of them in international organizations—but this is standard practice when dealing with Israel.

This exceptionalism has hindered the interests of both countries, in addition to inflicting immense harm on the Palestinians. Rather than helping ensure Israel’s survival—the policy’s ostensible intent—unconditional U.S. support has enabled the worst instincts of Israeli leaders. The results have been the relentless increase in illegal Israeli settlements and settler violence in the West Bank and mass civilian casualties in Gaza, along with famine in some areas. American support has enabled reckless Israeli military actions across the Middle East and exacerbated Israel’s own existential dangers. In the United States, the war in Gaza has dramatically eroded public support for Israel, with unfavorable attitudes toward Israel at record highs across the political spectrum.

The relationship cannot continue in its current form indefinitely. It requires a new paradigm, one more consistent with how Washington engages other countries, including its closest treaty-bound allies. This new paradigm should entail clear expectations and limits, accountability for compliance with U.S. and international law, conditions on support when Israeli policies go against U.S. interests, and noninterference in domestic politics—in short, a far more normal bilateral relationship.

For the United States, this long-overdue adjustment is a strategic, political, and moral imperative. From preventing Israel’s annexation of the West Bank to forging a common strategy to address Iran’s nuclear program, a normal U.S.-Israeli relationship would produce better outcomes than an exceptional one that too often incentivizes dangerous Israeli behavior and depletes Washington’s global influence. If the United States delays this transformation, the result may be damage to its international position, Israel’s near-total alienation from the American people and the rest of the world, and the collapse of Palestinian society in Gaza and eventually the West Bank. Changing course before it is too late is in the best interests of all—Americans, Israelis, and Palestinians.

Although the United States and Israel have had a unique bond since Israel’s founding, their relationship has not always taken its current exceptional form. Until President Bill Clinton’s administration, U.S. support did not translate to a blank check. American presidents did not hesitate to disagree with Israel’s government in public or to impose consequences to try to change its behavior. U.S. administrations frequently supported—or abstained from—UN Security Council resolutions critical of Israeli actions, particularly settlement construction. During the 1956 Suez War, the 1973 Yom Kippur War, Israeli wars in Lebanon in the 1970s and 1980s, and the first intifada in the late 1980s and early 1990s, American presidents threatened to sanction or cut off weapons shipments to Israel.

But then, the end of the Cold War and the decisive U.S. victory in the first Gulf War seemed to create propitious circumstances for a comprehensive Middle East settlement. In pursuit of that goal, Clinton and his team offered practically unconditional rhetorical and material support to Israel, premised on a belief that a strong Israel with unstinting U.S. backing was more likely to take risks for peace. They avoided displaying differences between the United States and Israel—even routine U.S. statements objecting to Israeli settlement construction were diluted, and words such as “occupation” fell out of the official U.S. lexicon. They sometimes offered increased military support as an incentive for Israeli concessions but did not withhold it as leverage. They shunned coercive measures, irrespective of Israel’s conduct.

That American approach was based on four core assumptions. First, U.S. and Israeli interests were overwhelmingly aligned, if not identical, including the shared objective of a negotiated peace between Israel and the Palestinians and other neighbors. Second, Israel better understood its own interests and the threats it faced from hostile states whose strength was comparable to its own. Third, it would be better to resolve any differences between the two allies in private, because public “daylight” between them emboldened Israel’s enemies. Finally, when push came to shove, Israel would accommodate significant American concerns to preserve a relationship that was essential to its long-term survival.

The relationship that developed from this starting point was truly singular in its expectations, standards, and modus operandi. Propelled in part by a formidable pro-Israel political lobby in the United States, it has persisted without substantial modification. Washington still exhibits extreme deference not only to Israeli leaders’ judgment but also to their domestic political needs. It provides, without conditions, massive amounts of military aid: a 2016 memorandum of understanding promised $3.8 billion per year, a daily transfer of over $10 million in American taxpayers’ money, and Congress regularly adds more. The United States is expected not only to avoid publicly criticizing Israel but also to support Israel’s position in international bodies, most conspicuously by vetoing UN Security Council resolutions to which Israel objects, whether or not they reflect U.S. policy. And Israel is rarely if ever subjected to certain U.S. laws and policies, particularly statutory restrictions related to human rights violations that apply to all recipients of U.S. aid.

Unconditional support has led inexorably to moral hazard for both countries. Israel has no reason to accommodate American concerns and interests because refusing to do so costs nothing. Instead, Israel is emboldened to pursue maximalist positions that are often incompatible with U.S. interests and sometimes with Israeli interests, too. Israel has dealt severe blows to enemies it shares with the United States, and the practical guarantee of American support may help deter adversaries from attacking Israel. But because Israel’s power far surpasses that of all rivals, this support creates a perverse incentive for Israel to act rashly and without necessity, confident that U.S. backing will continue regardless of the outcome of its adventurism. And unflagging support implicates the United States in Israel’s actions, occasionally inviting direct retaliation against U.S. forces. Israel, in turn, chafes at the heightened scrutiny it receives from some segments of the American public because of the aid it enjoys.

Israeli leaders are hardly infallible in their judgments, including about developments in their own region. That is true of leaders anywhere, but Israel’s history has predisposed some of its policymakers to focus excessively on day-to-day survival and to misapprehend or ignore strategic dynamics as a result. It is tragically ironic that Israel’s two largest intelligence blunders—the failure to prevent one surprise attack that started the 1973 Arab-Israeli war and another one, 50 years later, on October 7—were caused not by a lack of tactical intelligence but by overly rosy strategic assessments that led Israeli leaders to dismiss warning signs. The United States should not disregard Israel’s judgments, but neither should it blindly substitute them for its own.

When both Israel and the United States have well-intentioned leaders committed to peace, the relationship’s flaws can be mitigated. Yitzhak Rabin, who served his second term as Israel’s prime minister from 1992 until his assassination in 1995, understood that........

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