Lt.-Col. (ret.) Jonathan Conricus has spent the past nine months since Oct. 7 conducting countless interviews, shuttling from continent to continent advocating for Israel in English-language diplomatic forums, and calmly duking it out with media officials biased against the Jewish state.
But don’t call him a hasbara official.
“I don’t like the word ‘hasbara,’” he tells us soon after we sit down to an eclectic lunch at Reshel, a Moroccan-themed bistro in Tel Aviv Port, on a sweltering day. “I don’t think the State of Israel should have a special, unique word for public diplomacy or public relations.”
“I don’t think we have to explain any more than any other country. We do public affairs, public diplomacy, and we don’t need to justify it.”
That said, Israel is far from winning the PR war, he argues, and much of that is its own doing.
“I think our public diplomacy efforts are not going well. We’re amateurish in the way we’re dealing with an issue that’s tremendously important and strategic. We’re not addressing it with the adequate resources, planning, personalities, personnel, and budget. I think that’s unfortunate.
“We must be doing it better – and we can.”
Clad in a T-shirt and jeans instead of his oft-videoed IDF uniform, he is dressed for riding his motorcycle, his preferred mode of transportation – the better to avoid Tel Aviv’s notorious traffic and any ensuing road rage.
Keeping cool and collected seems to be Conricus’s trademark; he greets everyone, from server to photographer to writer, with a smile and a hello, his voice always level, his reasoning always carefully thought out and sound.
HE POINTS to Israel’s strategy over half a century ago when the country was in the midst of a water crisis.
Leadership decided that water was a national priority and, as such, its education and infrastructure were completely revamped to target this issue.
“Israel approached it in a holistic way where there was legislation and regulation on everything related to water. Then the best and brightest engineers got together to deal with this important aspect.
“There was a budget to build the national water carrier. It was seen as an aspect crucial to our existence,” he explains. “There was education about the importance of conserving water – books, ads, plays, basic education in schools. Tech companies also provided research.”
The result? “Now Israel is a world leader in this. Not only did we achieve a situation where we can trade in water and achieve national security goals by providing water to the Jordanians, but we have enough. That’s a result of good policy, priority, and budget. All of the things came together.”
Conricus asserts that Israeli leadership must take the same approach to its public affairs strategy. In the current reality, the Foreign Affairs Ministry “is a pale shadow of what we need as a country at war. It’s a ministry that’s been gutted. Bleeding personnel and talent, budget cuts. Limited resources. In my mind, [it has] a deficit in fighting spirit and desire to fight for Israel.”
He singles out this statistic, which we found hard to swallow: “I think we’re outgunned even diplomatically in terms of the number of consulates and embassies. The Palestinians have more consulates and embassies than we do. We have 192, they have 210.”
A true patriot
Until that day comes, the retired lieutenant-colonel is leveraging many of his experiences and talents – 24 years in the IDF as a combat commander in Lebanon and Gaza, and as its former international spokesperson; his service as a military diplomat; his tenure at the UN as an assessments officer (where he learned Arabic, a skill he’s proud of); and his own expertise as a private citizen and being a senior fellow at the Foundation for Defense of Democracies – to do his part, on a volunteer basis, in making the case for Israel on his own.
He is also wowing English-speaking audiences in the process, making him a recognizable, much-appreciated voice and face of Israel in the same firmament that brought Eylon Levy to the forefront. (These efforts also make him, in our eyes, an honorary Jerusalemite.)
“I’m not a government or IDF spokesperson,” he clarifies, which gives him the freedom to “get information from various sources.”
“I picked up a lot of the slack left by the government,” he says matter-of-factly. “It doesn’t seem like this current government is interested” in changing the status quo when it comes to public affairs.
“It’s extremely sad. I would hope this would be a priority.
“Maybe it has to get even worse before people understand the severity of the situation and the direct link between not addressing the issue seriously and the dire diplomatic situation we’re in right now.”
Realizing the magnitude of Oct. 7 on the day of, Conricus immediately reported for duty – even taking the night shift in those early days, taking over for Lt.-Col. Richard Hecht, who was working during the day.
DEDICATION AND integrity are key: “I hold myself to the truth. I work hard in order to maintain my reputation as a truthful, reliable, Israeli patriot. That’s what really concerns me in terms of consequences. I’ll never say anything that I think is untrue, even if the prime minister asks me to say it,” he stresses.
“I’m dedicated to explaining to people the justice behind our cause and why we first must defeat Hamas and then Hezbollah.”
Conricus has been speaking around the world to Jewish and non-Jewish communities about the Israel behind the headlines. He has visited with what he calls the “decent silent majority,” who are also opposed to Israel’s enemies and want the country to be victorious.
“They don’t believe the Palestinian propaganda and [understand] that Israel was actually the country that was attacked and should do whatever they need to do to get the job done.”
Sadly, after fighting in Gaza himself prior to the disengagement, he’s not surprised that the restive southern strip has turned into hell on Earth.
“I spent five years in Gaza before the disengagement. I knew we’d be back,” he recounts. “As a young company commander who wasn’t concerning himself with strategic matters or international affairs, I thought the disengagement was very harsh. I was concerned we were doing it unilaterally and we didn’t have anybody on the other side, and there was no plan for who would govern Gaza.
“We also weren’t getting anything in return for leaving Gaza, uprooting so many families and so many years of hard work and blood of the soldiers who died. I thought we’re doing this, okay, but then what? With the benefit of hindsight, those fears were founded.”
Conricus laments, “When you look at Gaza’s history, culture, their general disposition, and fundamental leanings, it’s very hard to imagine how Gaza could have gone anywhere other than where it is right now.”
Swedish roots
Raised in (today’s antisemitic hotbed of) Malmo by a Swedish father and an Israeli mother, Conricus attributes his Swedish upbringing as being part of the reason he’s able to communicate effectively with other cultures. While he made aliyah with his family at 13, his formative years spent abroad made Conricus very aware of the distinctions in how Israelis and Swedes communicate.
“There are many differences between Swedish and Israeli cultural norms. Swedes keep physical and emotional distance. They’re very private. They are very concerned with respecting people’s sensitivities and feelings.
“Having lived in Israel for so long, I’m not sure I prefer the Swedish way – it’s a stifled interaction between people,” he observes. “There’s something liberating in the way Israelis interact; yes, sometimes it gets too personal, too close, and too early, but it’s a more honest way of communicating. You get a better sense of what someone thinks and feels. With Swedes, you have to peel many layers until you finally understand what the person is really thinking.”
Yet, he still is able to retain the Swedish way of communicating when needed – and it is this singular perspective and cultural blend that’s very much needed when sitting down with foreigners attempting to understand Israel’s actions. This demeanor also served him well when he worked at the UN (also not known then for its pro-Israel stance) and today as hundreds of Sweden’s finest citizens unsuccessfully attempt to get him brought up on genocide charges in the international courts.
“I think my experience navigating both extreme ways of communication has helped me understand many cultures and that people are different and not everybody communicates like Israelis do,” he explains. “Many born-and-raised Israelis struggle with understanding that to get through to other people, you have to adapt and tailor the way you deliver your message in a way they would accept – not how you would want to say it, but how they can absorb it.
“Growing up abroad and dealing a lot with non-Israelis in my military service before being a spokesperson gave me that perspective,” he continues. “To the credit of Swedish culture, they’re usually calm and composed. They’re not usually hot-headed or temperamental.
“They’re usually able to make decisions that are a little bit more head-based than gut-based, and that’s helped me as a communicator to have a composed and collected manner about me.”
Getting slightly more personal
The atmosphere at the Reshel restaurant is lively, with fellow diners talking at typical “excited” Israeli levels, and dishes come out fast and furious. We hurry to take each delicious bite – of flavorful matbucha; a crunchy, deceptively simple green salad; beef carpaccio; asado cigars; traditional lamb tagine; couscous done right; and tender ribs – while hanging on to Conricus’s every word.
Looking ahead as the IDF seems to be close to wrapping up in Rafah, we naturally segue into discussion about the North and the war with Hezbollah that seems ready to break out any day now. He agrees that the terror movement is not looking for a full-fledged fight, but that is what it’s going to get – a necessity due to its actions.
He laughs ruefully when we inevitably bring up Iran. The mid-April night of hundreds of Iranian missiles that failed to hit but one target was a humiliation for them, he affirms, and the Israeli media should use Tehran’s little walk over the red line to do just that – and humiliate them.
We take advantage of our less formal setting to ask a more personal question than one that might be fired at him from a press pool: How does he separate emotion from his job?
Conricus’s answer is enlightening: 1. Immediately getting to work; 2. When even he gets rattled by terrorist sympathizers, watching footage of Hamas re-inspires him with the anger it conjures up; 3. Riding his motorcycle out in nature.
His face also brightens when talking about serving as a role model for his children. He couldn’t do any of this, he shares, without the support of his wife.
Taking his task with the seriousness it deserves, Conricus still makes time to raise a cocktail with us.
Cheers to Israel’s courageous media warriors!■