This rally won't help Jews at all

It is not very often that I part company with family, friends and a cause with which I am generally in sympathy, but yesterday's solidarity rally for Israel was, for me, a march too far.

Intended to show strength of support for a war-weary state and its beleaguered citizens, the peaceful, almost festive convocation in Trafalgar Square succeeded only in exposing weakness in numbers and a vacancy of ideas. The rally was ill-conceived, mis-timed and so confused in its objectives that the estimated turnout of 30,000 testified to little more than a gregarious desire to be seen out together in the sunshine of a spring Bank Holiday.

The biggest and most successful demos are the ones where there is something to protest against. Nothing brings people out onto the streets more readily than an identifiable irritant - the Americans in Vietnam, the poll tax, the ubiquity of Starbucks.

But this was a rally without a definite object. Participants were asked to show support for Israel without necessarily endorsing the policies of the Sharon government. The dichotomy was painful to behold, even from afar. "Israel in our hearts," said the placards.

Ah yes, but which Israel is that? The beach hotels of Eilat, the lyric novels of Amos Oz, or the skull-capped settlers in Hebron?

The event was provoked by a groundswell of frustration. Jews in their communities demanded some kind of collective response to hostile media coverage of Israel and rising anti-Semitism at home.

APRO-Palestinian rally four weeks ago drew between 15,000 and 30,000 supporters to the square, depending whether you believe police or propagandist estimates. "We can do better than that!" exclaimed communal organisations.

Uncomfortably aware that both Paris and Washington had seen massive pro-Israel demonstrations, they clubbed together to raise a £10 million insurance bond demanded by the GLA (which doubtless sought an equivalent guarantee from the May Day anarchists) and booked a fleet of charabancs and coaches with babychanging facilities and Zimmer-frame storage racks. It was a family day out, predominantly middle-aged, in a sea of blue-and-white flags on loan perhaps from the Tottenham Hotspur terraces. "It's a chance to give a voice to people whose views are not being heard," said one of the organisers, half-apologetically.

The main priority was to appear united, but two substantial-groups demonstrably abstained. The ultra-orthodox in their black hats and side-curls manifested general apathy towards the event, ignoring an injunction from the head of the Chief Rabbi's court, Dayan Chanoch Ehrentreu, that it "was incumbent on all who were able to attend".

At the secular edge of the Jewish spectrum, peace campaigners shunned the main event and set out on a meagre counter-vigil on the steps of the church of St Martininthe-Fields. Mainstream as the attendance was in the square, communal celebrities and even some prominent rabbis were notably absent. The actual turnout was less than overwhelming. It amounted to about 10 per cent of the Jewish population of Great Britain, a mark either of indifference or bewilderment.

When Anwar Sadat made his historic peace flight in 1977, more than a million Israelis lined the streets to greet him, a quarter of the nation. "Who's minding the shop?" quipped the Egyptian president. Yesterday, in London's Jewish quarters, it was business as usual.

A reluctance to stand up and be counted gripped several-pro-Israel politicians, who were invited to address the rally but declared themselves unaccountably unavailable. No member of the Cabinet was free to speak. The best on offer was Peter Mandelson from New Labour and Michael Ancram from the Tories - augmented by the oleaginous Benjamin Netanyahu, a former Israeli prime minister of Right-wing convictions who is hoping to make a comeback should the lumbering Ariel Sharon happen to stumble.

Where last month's pro-PLO march attracted visible support from the liberal Left, the pro-Israel rally drew groups of evangelical Christians who prayed for "the peace of Jerusalem", and a speech from the Bishop of Oxford, a lone voice for Zion in a massively biased Anglican synod. These voices were drowned on site by an inferior address system and on air by the PLO rapid response unit, which appears to have a live link to BBC News for unchecked reports of alleged "outrages".

As an outlet for communal vexation and a cheap day out for the family, the rally can claim some success. As a political gesture, however, it was either worthless - or worse. Militant Muslims, counting heads, know they can bus twice as many followers into central London. This is not a contest that British Jews and the pro-Israel lobby can hope to win.

In the battle for public opinion, a solidarity rally is like a nuclear device - best kept in store until the moment of dire need.

Once detonated, there can be no repetition. No matter how badly things go for Israel in the coming months - and they could go very badly indeed as world support swings behind the Houdini-like Arafat and his army of child-bombers - supporters of Israel blew their big shot yesterday and will be unable to blow it again.

It is a mark of the helplessness felt by many Jews who have sought peace with the Palestinians that they should have taken to the streets for want of anything better to do. Living in exile for two millennia, Jews have learned to avoid playing the numbers game against superior odds. To hear the subtle-minded Chief Rabbi, Jonathan Sacks, recently comparing suicide bombers to Nazis amounts to a desperate failure of intellect in the face of insurmountable deceit and propaganda.

More than strength in numbers, the rally betrayed weakness of mind. It will be swiftly forgotten, but the image of Jewish resourcefulness has been dented and that asset will not easily be restored.