Fri, Mar. 12, 2004

While opining occasionally about the communist island, I concentrate on Israel. The Jewish state provokes Vesuvian emotional eruptions from readers (reaction reached new heights for me after last month's column on anti-Semitism and Mel Gibson's film about Jesus).

I routinely receive an astonishing number of acrid messages from all sides crammed with preconceived notions, biases and stereotypes. If a column is pro-Israel, Jewish respondents congratulate me for being erudite and knowledgeable. If it is negative, I've ''betrayed the Jewish people.'' Conversely, if a column praises Israel, some non-Jews accuse me of ''selling out to Jewish interests.'' If it's critical, I'm applauded as ''a Jew who has seen the light.'' After explaining that I'm not Jewish, just a reporter with a profound interest in Israel for four decades, incredulous pen pals ask, ``Why would anyone not Jewish want to write about Israel?''

Israel's Government Press Office estimates that of the 2,000 foreign journalists either based in Israel or who visit annually, 95 percent are not Jewish. Many who are must cope with acerbic abuse. The New York Times' Thomas Friedman, arguably the most influential columnist writing about the Middle East today, is branded ''a lackey of Israel'' by Palestinian media watchdogs and ''anti-Israel'' by some Jewish organizations.

Public-relations executive Linda Scherzer is a case in point. When I worked in Israel for NBC, she was CNN's correspondent, often accused by co-religionists of overcompensating for being Jewish by being ''soft'' on Arabs when she provided balanced coverage, a persistent problem for objective Jewish journalists.

''It's hard for Jews to be unbiased and neutral about Israel,'' she told me recently. ''I challenge any Jew to go into Palestinian homes, hospitals, to funerals and not react on a human level.'' She also was hammered by the Arab-American Anti-Discrimination League for favoring Israel.

Stories written here or there are probed by an army of professional media analysts and amateur, self-styled ''guardians'' who microscopically dissect every sentence searching for hidden meanings, unfairness and bigotry, convinced that such articles adversely impact public opinion. They're preaching to the choir. A Gallup poll last year found that just one in four Americans follows the controversy ''very closely,'' a sharp decline from 75 percent in 1997.

When I write about Israeli policies, I'm an interloper trespassing on a Jewish debate. However, an outside observer with nothing personal at stake has a distinct advantage. Impartial reporting of wrong as well as right spawns different and, hopefully, fresh perspectives. It's also a surefire formula to win no friends at all. Historian Edward Gibbon once contemplated a history of England. Ultimately, he recoiled from a subject ''where every character is a problem, a writer is supposed to hoist a party flag and [receives] damnation by the adverse faction.'' In short, a ''can't win'' situation.

Constructive criticism is helpful to journalists, a good barometer to ascertain if they hit or missed the mark. However, a ceaseless bombardment of irrational rantings, hateful harangues and one-sided agendas spewed by critics of every ilk is spectacularly unproductive. Instead of influencing others, it only strengthens deeply ingrained prejudices lurking in the psyches of those who espouse them.

I'm on tenterhooks awaiting the salvo of acrimonious comments about this column.