In the annals of American politics, few relationships are as curiously resilient as the one between Washington and Jerusalem. It is a marriage that has outlived multiple heads of state of both, peace processes with the Palestinians, and the occasional scandal over campaign donations to US politicians. Under Donald Trump, the alliance was supposed to have entered its honeymoon phase: the US embassy moved to Jerusalem, the Abraham Accords had been signed, and Benjamin Netanyahu showered Trump with praise like an overly enthusiastic father-in-law. And yet, behind the photo ops, something is shifting; not in the marble halls of the Knesset, but in the beating heart of the Republican base.
Trump’s foreign policy instincts are, at their core, isolationist. He wants fewer wars, fewer body bags returning home, and, most importantly, a Nobel Peace Prize to hang next to his framed magazine covers. The trouble is that Israel has other priorities. For decades, US support was a given: military aid, diplomatic cover at the United Nations, and the occasional saber-rattling against Tehran. But while Israel dreams of America marching alongside it into yet another Middle Eastern conflict, Trump would rather cut a deal, grab the headlines, and then head back to Mar-a-Lago before the dessert cart arrives.
Trump’s fixation on being recognized, particularly of the Scandinavian variety, is no secret. He believed the Abraham Accords, a series of pragmatic peace deals between Israel and a handful of Arab states, should have earned him a Nobel. In his mind, this was the stuff of history: Arab monarchs smiling politely at Israeli diplomats, handshakes on White House lawns, Fox News running ‘Peace in Our Time?’ chyrons. For Trump, it was less about securing Israel’s future than about securing his place in history.
Yet Iran looms as the permanent spoiler. Israel sees Tehran as an existential threat, a ticking nuclear clock. Trump, however, calculates differently: a war with Iran does not win prizes, it empties the US’ coffers and alienates his voter base. If anything, Trump seems to understand that Americans, even Republicans, have little appetite for another war in a Middle Eastern desert. That calculus pits him, uncomfortably, against the most hardline voices in Israel.
The Cracks in the Base
What follows is unprecedented. For decades, Republican orthodoxy held that the matter of support for Israel was a sacred cow. But today, MAGA world is rife with dissenting voices. The slogan ‘America First’ was never meant to be followed by ‘…unless Israel calls.’
Enter Tucker Carlson, whose post-Fox stage of his career has afforded him the luxury of questioning what formerly could not be. Candace Owens, once a darling of the pro-Israel right, now muses openly about why America should bleed for a country halfway across the world. And then there are the fringes: Nick Fuentes and his Groyper movement, whose antisemitism is no longer couched in euphemism but shouted from conference stages and proclaimed during livestreams. These voices may not yet constitute a majority, but they represent a fracture: younger Republicans are viewing Israel no longer as an ally but as a parasite.
This is a sea change. In the early 2000s, criticizing Israel meant career suicide for a conservative. Today, it earns you likes, retweets, and speaking slots at conferences in the ‘alternative’ scene. Trump himself senses this. He is too transactional to abandon Israel entirely; Netanyahu was, after all, a loyal cheerleader. He is however too cautious to risk alienating the base he built on populist resentment. His instinct tells him that siding with Israel against Iran might be bad for him domestically, even if it is good diplomacy.
The bigger question is not about Trump or Netanyahu, but about America itself. The US–Israeli alliance has always been sold as one of shared civilisational values. But when half one’s voter block is no longer buying that story, the alliance starts to look less like destiny and more like dogma.
For Democrats, the split is already visible: the progressive wing openly sympathises with Palestinians, often in terms that make AIPAC lobbyists choke on their canapés. For Republicans, the fracture is potentially more destabilising. A party that has thrived on culture wars at home now finds itself wed to a wife living abroad that increasingly feels like a liability.
Trump is not blind to this. His genius, such as it is, lies in sniffing out the mood of the mob. And the mob, or at least a growing section of it, is beginning to murmur: Why is Israel our ‘greatest ally’ when it seems to demand so much and give so little? Why are our sons and daughters the ones asked to die, while Israeli jets drop American bombs from above?
A Fragile Future
The uncomfortable truth is that the US–Israeli alliance may survive Trump, but it will not emerge unscathed. If support for Israel becomes a real issue, the days of bipartisan blank checks are numbered. Already, one can imagine a future Republican Party that treats Israel as just another foreign interest group, not a sacred partner.
For now, Trump maintains a precarious equilibrium. Too much deference to Israel, and he risks alienating his base. Too little, and he risks losing the aura of the statesman which he so desperately craves.
In the end, it is not Trump who will decide the fate of this alliance, but the American voter. If the current trajectory continues, future presidents may find themselves explaining to Israeli prime ministers that, regrettably, America First means exactly that.
Statement
Donald Trump’s ‘America First’ instincts collide with Israel’s relentless focus on Iran, exposing a rift once unthinkable in Republican politics. While Trump basks in symbolic wins like the Abraham Accords, he recoils at a costly war that voters don’t want and which would jeopardise him winning a Nobel Peace Prize. Cracks are showing: populist voices, from Tucker Carlson to Candace Owens, openly question Trump’s loyalty to the US, while younger conservatives become outright hostile. What was once conservative orthodoxy—unshakable support for Israel—is now being contested. The alliance may survive, but risks devolving into dogma.