Over tea, Martin Indyk gave me sound advice
Martin Indyk died this past week at the age of 73. To those following events in Israel over the past three decades, he will be remembered as the US ambassador for two terms — in the Clinton administration from 1995 to 1997 and again in the George W. Bush administration from 2000 to 2001. He was also a special envoy for Israeli-Palestinian negotiations during the Obama administration from 2013 to 2014.
In American Jewish circles, Indyk was known as a staunch advocate for a “two-state solution.” As such, he didn’t have much of a fan base among those who believed that Oslo was a mistake and the two-state solution a looming disaster for Israel. He was wrong on other issues as well.
Indyk was rightly criticized for those views and his record will always be tarnished by them. Yet, I had an experience with him that will be with me forever.
I first met Indyk in April 1995 when he served as ambassador to Israel. It was the morning of Tuesday, April 11, and I was at the US embassy in Tel Aviv. I was with two embassy staffers who had been with me since I arrived the previous day to be with my daughter Alisa, who had been mortally injured on Sunday in a suicide bus bombing near the Jewish community of Kfar Darom. After her death, we went to Tel Aviv to be closer to the airport so we could return to America that night with Alisa.
Indyk came to see me in a small office deep within the embassy building walls. Accompanied by staffers, Indyk stuck out his hand and shook mine. If I had a preconceived notion as to what an ambassador should look like, Indyk didn’t fit the bill; one of his shoelaces was untied.
With his Australian accent just beneath the surface, he expressed his condolences, and let me know that he and his office were at my disposal while I remained in Israel or if they could be of any help after I returned to the United States.
A year after the verdict in our ground-breaking lawsuit against the Iranian government, I attended a program where Indyk was a speaker (yes, more two-state solution stuff), and when it was over, I approached him to comment on his remarks. As we finished talking he said, “Why don’t you come down to my office when you have a chance, and we’ll have tea.”
It was an interesting time to receive an invitation like that because we were in a battle with the US Treasury and State departments over our attempts to seize Iranian assets located in America. Each one of our attempted seizures was challenged in court by my government, and court decisions were being rendered against us every week.
Later that day, when I reported on that comment to my lawyer, Steven Perles, he said: “When an undersecretary of state invites you to tea, you go!”
I figured, OK, I’ll see Indyk, and I scheduled an appointment to see him one afternoon the following week.
Indyk met me and took me into his inner sanctum — a rather large, bright and airy office, I thought, with beautiful furniture. I have been to offices in the West Wing of the White House, and they couldn’t hold a candle to this one. He directed me to a sitting area in a corner, and suddenly, the tea arrived.
• • •
We chatted for a few minutes, and I was airing my frustrations with the Treasury and State departments over the positions they were taking as they blocked my efforts to seize Iranian assets. I related how I was continuously told by the State Department that Iranian assets were, in the words of then-State Department spokesman, “sacrosanct.”
Then he said, “You know, as a matter of policy, the president will not go against the advice of his staff if they are all in agreement. The only way he can override them is if there’s pressure coming at him from the sides.”
I imagined President Bill Clinton, his ultimate boss, was no different. As I rode the train back to New Jersey, I wondered how we would go about doing that. The answer soon presented itself.
It came in the guise of Hillary Rodham Clinton, who announced her candidacy for the US Senate from New York. We put together a coalition of terror victims and held a press conference outside her New York City campaign headquarters, demanding to know where she stood on terror victims’ rights.
Then came Hillary’s famous salutatory kiss on the cheek of Suha Arafat in Ramallah on a Middle East trip in November 1999 shortly after the latter gave a speech in Hillary’s presence that blamed Israel for a litany of issues, including diseases affecting Palestinian children, water shortages and air pollution. Clinton’s excuse was that her headphones weren’t working, and she didn’t hear the scathing allegations.
This episode didn’t go over well with American Jews. Clinton’s rescue came in the form of the late Sen. Joe Lieberman, who put together a meeting with leaders of the Orthodox Union to which I was invited. I asked Hillary a question, “Do you support the Clinton administration’s efforts that block terror victims from seizing Iranian assets?” Without hesitating, she said, “No.”
Shortly thereafter, a negotiating committee was established between victim families and the Clinton administration. It was headed by longtime Clinton administration official Jacob (“Jack”) Lew, now the US ambassador to Israel. In a matter of months, a settlement was reached, and payments were made to the victims.
I might not have agreed with Martin Indyk’s policies, but the advice he gave me one afternoon over a cup of tea, whether intentional or not, rates among the best I’ve ever received. And I’ll be forever grateful.
