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Ben-Gurion’s Political

Struggles, 1963–1967

With piercing insight into one of the principal figures of Zionism and
modern Israel, this book explores David Ben-Gurion’s political career in
the years leading up to the Six-Day War and details many of the crucial
issues and events the world is still grappling with.
This book traces David Ben-Gurion’s waning years in the Israeli political
arena. After his resignation from the office of prime minister in 1963, the
“Old Man” soon lost faith in his self-chosen successor, Levi Eshkol, and
ceaselessly tried to undermine the latter’s premiership, eventually forming
a breakaway party.
The events preceding the Six-Day War in June 1967 caught Ben-Gurion
by surprise. During the weeks-long “waiting period” before the outbreak of
hostilities, he paid little attention to daily security issues. But when war did
erupt, he displayed one of his key leadership skills – the ability to formulate
an accurate independent assessment of the situation.
Of interest to scholars of Israeli politics and history, the book is a lucid,
thoroughly researched account of the sunset years of the driving force
behind Israel’s nation-state.

Zaki Shalom is a senior researcher at the Ben-Gurion Research Institute for


the study of Israel and Zionism, Ben-Gurion University and a former Israeli
military intelligence officer. His areas of interest include modern Israeli
history and Middle East politics.
Israeli History, Politics, and Society
Series editor: Efraim Karsh
Kings College London

This series provides a multidisciplinary examination of all aspects of Israeli


history, politics and society, and serves as a means of communication
between the various communities interested in Israel: academics, policy
makers, practitioners, journalists, and the informed public.

1 Peace in the Middle East 7 In Search of Identity


The challenge for Israel Jewish aspects in Israeli culture
Edited by Efraim Karsh Edited by Dan Urian and
Efraim Karsh
2 The Shaping of Israeli
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9 From Rabin to Netanyahu
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Edited by Efraim Karsh
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5 Revisiting the Yom Kippur 11 Divided against Zion


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Edited by P. R. Kumaraswamy Britain to a Jewish state in
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Essays in honor of David Vital Deferred
Edited by Abraham Ben-Zvi America, Britain and wartime
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Edited by Daniel J. Elazar and pioneer, Tsabar and settler
M. Ben Mollov Lilly Weissbrod

17 Public Policy in Israel 27 The Israeli Palestinians


Edited by David Nachmias An Arab minority in the
and Gila Menahem Jewish state
Edited by Alexander Bligh
18 Developments in Israeli Public
Administration 28 Israel, the Hashemites and the
Edited by Moshe Maor Palestinians
The fateful triangle
19 Israeli Diplomacy and the Edited by Efraim Karsh and
Quest for Peace P. R. Kumaraswamy
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the End of Ceauceşcu’s Era
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Strategy and diplomacy
21 John F. Kennedy and the David Tal
Politics of Arms Sales to Israel
Abraham Ben-Zvi 31 Rethinking the Middle East
Efraim Karsh
22 Green Crescent over Nazareth
The displacement of Christians 32 Ben-Gurion against the
by Muslims in the Holy Land Knesset
Raphael Israeli Giora Goldberg
33 Trapped Fools 39 Israel at the Polls 2003
Thirty years of Israeli policy in Edited by Shmeul Sandler, Ben
the territories M. Mollov & Jonathan
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34 Israel’s Quest for Recognition 40 Between Capital and Land


and Acceptance in Asia The Jewish national fund’s
Garrison state diplomacy finances and land-purchase
Jacob Abadi priorities in Palestine,
1939–1945
35 The Harp and Shield of David Eric Engel Tuten
Ireland, Zionism and the state
of Israel, 1937–1963 41 Israeli Democracy at the
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Daniel Mandel Raphael Cohen-Almagor

37 Navigating Perilous Waters 43 The Israeli–Palestine Peace


An Israeli strategy for peace Process Negotiations,
and security 1999–2001
Ephraim Sneh Within reach
Gilead Sher
38 Lyndon B. Johnson and
the Politics of Arms Sales 44 Ben-Gurion’s Political
to Israel Struggles, 1963–1967
In the shadow of the hawk A lion in winter
Abraham Ben-Zvi Zaki Shalom

Israel: The First Hundred Years (Mini Series)


Edited by Efraim Karsh

1 Israel’s Transition from 4 Israel in the International


Community to State Arena
Edited by Efraim Karsh Edited by Efraim Karsh

2 From War to Peace? 5 Israel in the Next Century


Edited by Efraim Karsh Edited by Efraim Karsh

3 Politics and Society since 1948


Edited by Efraim Karsh
Ben-Gurion’s Political
Struggles, 1963–1967
A lion in winter

Zaki Shalom
First published 2006
by Routledge
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© 2006 Zaki Shalom

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ISBN10: 0–7146–5652–6 (Print Edition)


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To my mother
Contents

Acknowledgments xi

Introduction 1

1 Ben-Gurion–Eshkol: initial frictions 12

2 The Lavon Affair 23

3 The Dimona and Ben-Barka affairs 36

4 The split with Mapai: the founding of Rafi 57

5 The road to the Six-Day War 65

6 Criticism of the defense policy 79

7 Ben-Gurion confronts the war 92

8 Ben-Gurion’s involvement in the war 106

Summary 119

Notes 121
Bibliography 129
Index 135
Acknowledgments

As this book is going to publication, it is my pleasure to extend my


gratitude to those who made it possible. Special thanks are due to the
former director of the Ben-Gurion Research Institute for the Study of Israel
and Zionism, Dr Tuvia Friling, for his indefatigable efforts and encourage-
ment in the long process leading to this publication. I would also like to
express my appreciation to the present director of the Institute, Prof.
Yehuda Gradus, for the support he has offered me in various fields. It is also
my pleasure to extend my gratitude to the head of the Jaffee Center for
Strategic Studies in Tel Aviv University, Dr Zvi Shtauber, and the director of
the publication unit at the center, Mr Moshe Grundman, for their manyfold
help. Thanks are also due to Moshe Tlamim for his professionalism and
dedication throughout the process of editing this research. My thanks also
to the staff at the National Archives in Jerusalem, who offered unwavering
assistance in the collection of the material. Last but not least, my heartfelt
gratitude is extended to the administrative staff at the Ben-Gurion Research
Institute: to Hana Pinshow and Liana Feldman at the Ben-Gurion Archives,
to Yosef Litus and Morris Levi at the computer department, to Lily Adar
and Yefim Magrill at the Library, and to Michal Mouyal, Bat Sheva Ben
Shimon, Adi Moskovitch, and Ruth Finger at the administrative unit.
Introduction

David Ben-Gurion was 80 years old when the Six-Day War broke out. In a
public career spanning over half a century he had experienced periods of
depression and frustration as well as moments of soaring hope and dazzling
accomplishment. He succeeded in overcoming endless political and military
challenges that had threatened the nation and him personally.
A short list of Ben-Gurion’s major political decisions, that he made either
alone or with his partners in the national leadership, includes the following:
the running of the Zionist movement, the ingathering of Jewish exiles, the
struggle against the British Mandate, the suppression of Jewish dissident
paramilitary organizations (Etzel and Lechi), attempts to rescue European
Jewry during the Holocaust, declaration of statehood, the 1948 War of
Independence, the absorption of mass immigration, the 1956 Sinai
Campaign, and the development of Israel’s nuclear option. Ben-Gurion
stood in the center of all of these crucial events.
After the War of Independence he seemed to perceive the Arab–Israeli
conflict in a different light from that of many Israeli politicians and experts.
He believed that the sources of the conflict were rooted in the Arabs’ total
rejection of any “Jewish entity” in the Middle East. The more obvious
issues of controversy, such as the borders of the Jewish state, the refugee
problem, and the question of Jerusalem, Ben-Gurion was convinced, were
merely manifestations of the conflict, not its cause.
Consequently, he estimated that the Arab states that fought against Israel
in 1948 had signed the armistice agreements mainly because of their bitter
military defeat and their fear that protracted fighting would exacerbate
their losses. The Arabs, he stressed, had not sued for cease-fire because
they wanted to end the conflict. They were simply looking for a break in the
fighting that would enable them to replenish their forces and continue
the struggle under more favorable conditions for them.
Under these circumstances, Ben-Gurion believed that another round of
fighting between Israel and the Arab states was inevitable. He reckoned that
the Arabs would learn the causes of their defeat in 1948 and would improve
their abilities. Therefore, the second confrontation might be much more
difficult for Israel. He repeatedly stressed that Israel’s security must be ensured
2 Introduction
for “rainy days” when its survival might be imperiled by its Arab neighbors.
His obsession with defense issues was a direct outcome of those assessments.
This naturally left him little time for other pressing issues of state such as
nation building, the economy, social problems, and the improvement of the
fledgling legal and administrative systems. His abandonment of these issues
was not due to disinterest, unawareness, or underestimation of their
importance. Rather, it reflected his conscious preference to let his colleagues
handle them so that he could be free to deal with vital defense matters and
foreign affairs.
At the end of 1953, when Ben-Gurion’s political and public stature
appeared rock solid, and when no significant opposition threatened his
rule, he announced his intention to retire from government for a limited
period of time. His closest followers were not surprised. For several months
he had been hinting that such a move was afoot. Direct and indirect
attempts – some sincere, others not – to dissuade him from taking leave
had failed.
Before quitting office Ben-Gurion informed his colleagues that he pre-
ferred Levi Eshkol, the finance minister, as his replacement He referred
to Eshkol as “a man of deeds,” a tireless compromiser unburdened by
ideological zeal. Mapai (Ben-Gurion’s center-left political party) rejected
Ben-Gurion’s proposal – not because Eshkol’s personality and positions
were unacceptable; on the contrary, Eshkol was an integral player in the
party mechanism and highly regarded by the party’s rank and file – but
because the party leaders rightly estimated that his elevation to the prime
minister’s office meant skipping over the “number two” candidate –
Foreign Minister Moshe Sharett. This would be interpreted as a vote of no
confidence in one of the party’s most respected founding members. Such an
unfriendly move went against the prevailing rules of the game in this period.
Therefore, Mapai decided to nominate Sharett as Ben-Gurion’s successor
even though it knew that Sharett had opposed Ben-Gurion publicly and in
closed forums on various political and military issues. Pinchas Lavon, a
relative newcomer in Mapai’s inner party circle was named defense minister.
This nomination generated much surprise since his field of expertise was in
finance rather than security and military affairs, and because of his undis-
guised propensity toward dovish views. Another new appointment was
Moshe Dayan, commander of the army’s Southern Front, who was made chief
of staff. This, more than any other appointment, would have far-reaching
consequences for Israel.
The new government planted the seeds of its own downfall. In retrospect,
it is hard to imagine how the party leaders could have believed that such a
disparate coalition would possibly remain united for any length of time.
The prime minister was Moshe Sharett, a brilliant orator, skilled in politics
and diplomacy, but lacking in leadership ability and the competency to
steer the country through the turbulent seas ahead. His ability to oversee
the country’s defense system, the main focus of Israeli politics in this
Introduction 3
period, was severely limited. The heads of the security establishment and
the Israeli Defense Forces (IDF) seemed to have very limited respect for his
leadership qualities and background in military matters. Therefore they
habitually bypassed him, occasionally even disparaging and disgracing
him. In the dual role of prime minister–foreign minister, Sharett lacked
Ben-Gurion’s leadership élan and talent. His failure to deal effectively with
this inherent deficiency naturally undermined his authority.
Under these circumstances, Sharett should have reached the obvious
conclusion that he could no longer remain in office and would have to
tender his resignation. Ben-Gurion would have undoubtedly acted in such
a manner under similar conditions. Sharett, however, lacked the courage to
make such bold and decisive decisions. He preferred foot dragging, hoping
that in the interim he would somehow regain his leadership and authority.
He definitely had no intention of threatening to resign if his demands were
not met. He must have realized that if he quit, the Mapai leadership would
immediately reinstate his main political rival, David Ben-Gurion, or
someone else. Sharett wanted to avoid this course of events at all costs and
hoped to remain at the helm of the state despite the obstacles. He probably
assumed that in the course of time his authority would be accepted, and his
leadership stabilized.
But external events prevented Sharett from governing in a “business as
usual” atmosphere. Prominent among them were the deterioration in state
security because of increased Arab infiltration, the loss of a sense of
personal safety especially in the peripheral areas of the state, and Israel’s
acute political isolation. Sharett was forced to supply spontaneous solutions
to the growing range of security violations emanating from the surrounding
Arab states. But he had no solutions up his sleeve. Furthermore, he
appeared hesitant and irresolute, and failed to convince his people that
he at least knew the direction the ship of state should be headed in order to
reach peace and security one day.
Under these circumstances it seems that Dayan, the chief of staff, acted
independently and presented the country’s leaders with an unwritten,
tightly organized political-defense doctrine that would answer Israel’s secu-
rity dilemma. The doctrine contained in-depth analysis of Israel’s relations
with the Arab world and policy recommendations. Dayan’s “working plan”
basically reflected Ben-Gurion’s views on the nature of the Arab–Israeli
conflict. It assumed that the Armistice Agreements were far from being an
expression of the Arab world’s unabashed recognition of the results of the
1948 War. Dayan noted three specific areas that the Arabs rejected: the
armistice borders, the clear Jewish majority in the country due to the flight
of the Palestinian Arabs, and Israeli sovereignty over parts of Jerusalem.
Dayan assessed that the Arab world would reject the status quo created
in the aftermath of the War of Independence, and would continue the struggle
to alter it. However, at least in the early postwar period, it would avoid a
major confrontation with Israel. According to Dayan, the Arab world was
4 Introduction
forced to restrain itself not because it opposed violent measures, but it was
all too aware of its military inferiority vis-à-vis Israel. The only viable
option for the Arab world to bridge those two conflicting interests was to
maintain a state of “no war – no peace.”
In reality, the Arab strategy was designed to wage a low-intensity war
against Israel by means of border clashes and armed infiltration. The idea
behind this strategy was to spill Israeli blood sporadically and limitedly. In
addition, the Arabs would wage a political and economic boycott designed
to isolate Israel in the international arena. Dayan calculated that the Arab
leaders were convinced that this strategy would best serve their interests.
On the one hand, it would demonstrate to Israel and the rest of the world
the Arabs’ resolve to challenge the postwar reality. On the other hand, it
would prevent Israel from seizing a pretext to launch an all-out war that
could inflict a second painful defeat on the Arabs.
Dayan believed that Israel was capable of countering this strategy. If it
failed to carry out the inevitable struggle, he warned, the Arabs would gain
their objective – denying Israel its achievements throughout the war of
Independence – without having to pay dearly for it. Thus, Israel had to take
advantage of its temporary military superiority and force the Arabs to make a
clear decision: either cease hostilities unconditionally, or undertake the risk
that the continuation of the no war – no peace policy would eventually lead
to an all-out conflict and certain defeat.
Basically, Dayan’s strategic concept envisaged the employment of an
escalatory policy toward the Arab states. This meant that Israel would
respond to border violations by the Arabs with an overwhelming use of
force. Dayan believed that this would convince the Arabs that their choice
lay between the devil and the deep blue sea: they could either persist in
throughout the war of Independence-attacking Israel, and thus run the risk
of a major conflict, or they could offer a tepid reaction that would reflect
their military weakness. Faced with such a Hobson’s choice, Dayan reckoned,
they might eventually abandon the no war – no peace strategy.
Sharett flatly rejected Dayan’s policy proposal. He may have accepted on
principle Ben-Gurion and Dayan’s “working assumption” regarding the Arab
world’s perception of the conflict and stubborn determination to annihilate
the “Zionist entity.” However, he refused to see the Arabs’ perceptions as
immortal truths, resistant to change. Sharett, unlike Dayan, preferred to keep
the conflict at a low-intensity level by avoiding escalation. At the same time,
he searched for political initiatives that would convince the Arabs of the
advantages – especially economic ones – to be gained from peace with Israel.
But developments in the region denied Sharett the required time frame or
political stability to prove the validity of his way of thinking. As the scope,
intensity, and frequency of Arab violence reached unprecedented levels, the
Israeli public demanded that its leaders provide the basic security for a
normal way of life. Various sectors in Israeli society harshly criticized the
seemingly political leadership’s impotence in guaranteeing public security.
Introduction 5
In addition to Mapai’s concern over the deteriorating security situation and
threat of war, it also fretted over voter sensitivity and its influence on the
party’s electoral strength in the coming elections. Many party leaders noted
a burst of public sympathy for the political opposition, especially
Menachem Begin of the right-wing Herut party.
Mapai, the dominant political party in Israel was in little danger of losing
its hegemony in government. However, in this period the party felt that even
the loss of a few seats in the Knesset (Israeli Parliament) was a “disaster.”
Mapai realized that if it wished to maintain its present strength it had
to immediately recall Ben-Gurion to a key party position. Thus, nearly
fourteen months after his “exile” to the desert kibbutz of Sede-Boker,
Ben-Gurion was practically entreated by Mapai’s kingmakers to return to a
powerful role in the national leadership – the office of defense minister.
He replaced Pinchas Lavon, who then became secretary of the Histadrut
(Labor Federation), while Sharett remained prime minister and foreign
secretary. All the obstacles toward stabilizing the new government seemed
to have been cleared away.
But the new political framework soon showed cracks. Relations between
Sharett and Ben-Gurion were on a short fuse and were seriously marred by
their disagreement over two main issues: the nature, scope, and frequency
of Israel’s retaliation policy, and the ongoing controversy over the respec-
tive turfs of the foreign minister and defense minister regarding Israel’s
relations with the Arab world.
Psychological differences too probably played a part in souring their
relationship. As prime minister, Sharett had a sense of formal seniority over
the defense minister. Ben-Gurion had been outside the decision-making
circle for months and had returned to political office as a senior minister
“in” the Sharett government. But it seems that Ben-Gurion saw things
differently. He had been propelled back to power in order to “save” the
country and ensure Mapai’s continued hegemony. Mapai’s leadership had
floundered without his leadership in the Knesset. Ben-Gurion must have
found it mortifying to serve under Sharett, especially since the roles had
been reversed for decades. He probably saw no reason for submitting to the
prime minister’s dictates.
On July 26, 1955, national elections were held. Mapai, still headed by
Sharett, suffered a rather humiliating blow, losing five seats (from 45 seats
out of the Knesset’s 120, to 40). At the same time Begin’s right-wing Herut
party gained an additional seven seats (up fifteen from the previous eight).
Since the founding of the state in 1948, Mapai had been the unchallenged
dominant party in the Knesset, and thus, the 1955 election results, while not
in any way endangering Mapai’s hegemony, were considered a defeat. The
party’s fear of the consequences of Sharett’s premiership had been realized.
It was clear that an increasing number of the voters disapproved of
Sharett’s moderate political-security orientation. The Mapai leadership
realized that only a sweeping political and personal shake-up could regain
6 Introduction
the public’s confidence. Aware of the voters’ enormous faith in, and support
of, Ben-Gurion, the party seemed to have no choice but to ask the “Old Man”
back as prime minister–defense minister. On November 3, 1955 Ben-Gurion
formed a new government, and Sharett returned to his “natural,” though
more limited, spot in the Foreign Ministry.
This political change did not, however, improve Israel’s deterrence
capability, nor did it create the hoped-for peace and quiet in Israeli–Arab
relations. On the contrary, infiltration continued to demoralize the
citizenry. At the same time, a huge arms deal between Egypt and the Soviet
bloc (the Egyptian–Czech arms deal) threatened to upset the region’s
balance of power. Israel’s leaders warned that within two years Egypt
would be strategically superior to Israel.
Under these circumstances, in early 1956 Israel had to make a strategic
decision regarding its policy toward the Arab world: either embark upon
accelerated escalation that would lead to an all-out confrontation, or attain
a strategic balance that would deter Egypt from an attack and preserve the
current status quo indefinitely. The first option assumed that the Israeli–
Egyptian conflict was headed toward an armed clash, and that it was in
Israel’s interest that the confrontation should take place while Israel still
retained military superiority. This was Dayan’s opinion.
Sharett favored the second option. He strongly believed that an Israeli–
Egyptian war was preventable. Israel, he said, could attain a strategic
balance with Egypt by acquiring a large quantity of arms from friendly
states. This balance would deter Egypt from launching an attack and
convince it, and other Arab states, that they had no military option vis-à-vis
Israel. Thus, in the long run, Egypt would be compelled to moderate her
position on political settlement.
With Ben-Gurion’s return to power, Dayan might have expected to gain
free rein in implementing a defense policy consonant with the prime
minister’s convictions. Ben-Gurion’s clear-cut statements on defense issues
and his readiness to authorize large-scale retaliations presaged a positive
attitude toward Dayan’s (rather than Sharett’s) strategy. But Dayan soon
discovered that his reinstated patron had grave reservations over an escalatory
policy that could lead to all-out war with the Arab states.
The more Ben-Gurion realized that the regional power balance was about
to turn sharply against Israel – the more he tended to adopt Sharett’s
strategic thinking. He repeatedly avowed that Israel had to make a con-
certed effort to obtain defensive weapons in order to maintain the balance
of power with the Arabs. Only in the event that this option failed, would
Dayan’s strategy of “escalation toward total war” have to be seriously
considered.
In the spring of 1956 Ben-Gurion understood that Israel had no chance
of procuring weapons from the United States. (This had been Sharett’s
desire all along.) At the same time France began signaling its willingness
to supply Israel with arms. France’s good will, however, was vaguely related
Introduction 7
to the expectation, and certainly not as a stipulation, that Israel would
participate in a move to topple Nasser’s regime. France believed that Nasser
was the chief provocateur behind the bloody anti-French uprising in
Algeria. Therefore, the overthrow of his regime appeared to be in France’s
key interest. French officials broadly intimated that Israeli cooperation with
France on this issue would earn it generous dividends. These would include
the supply of sophisticated weapons, as well as massive French assistance in
developing Israel’s nuclear option.
Under these circumstances, Ben-Gurion undoubtedly realized that Israel’s
strategic alliance with France depended to a large extent on cooperation in
other fields as well, especially regarding Israel’s willingness to overthrow
Egypt’s leadership. Needless to say that Israel was as interested as France in
such an outcome. Therefore, Ben-Gurion increasingly inclined toward
examining the implications of Israel’s participation in a joint effort with
France, and probably Britain also, against Nasser. In October 1956 during
the Sèvres Conference (outside of Paris), Israel, France, and Britain drew up
plans for joint military operation against Egypt.
In late October, the three allies launched a major military offensive
against Egypt that became known as the “Sinai Campaign.” Ben-Gurion
unquestionably hoped that the war would depose of Nasser’s regime.
However, as events proved, the scheme not only failed, but Nasser’s domestic
and international standing soared to new heights. Ben-Gurion also hoped,
openly and secretly, to bring about a change in the territorial status quo
with Egypt that would include Israel’s partial control over the Gaza Strip
and a land-bridge linking Eilat to Sharm-el-Sheikh (at the southern tip of
the Sinai Peninsula). Here too Israel failed to attain its goal because the two
superpowers, the United States and Soviet Union, exerted massive pressure
on Israel and its two allies to withdraw, almost unconditionally, from the
recently captured areas.
Eventually, the Sinai Campaign yielded three “formal gains” for Israel:
the demilitarization of Sinai, the stationing of UN troops in Sinai, and the
guarantee of free passage through the Straits of Tiran. However, the “infor-
mal gains” were far more significant. First, they led to a marked strength-
ening of Israel’s deterrent capability. On the strategic level the campaign
reaffirmed Israel’s military superiority and proved Israel’s willingness to
unleash its might when national interests were threatened. No state in the
international community – and certainly not in the Arab world – could
afford to ignore this important lesson.
In this light, Nasser was forced to revise his strategic posture toward
Israel: Egypt would refrain from further hostilities until it was fully prepared
for a confrontation. Egypt also advised other Arab states to avoid belligerent
steps toward Israel under the assumption that Egypt would rush to their
assistance if Israel retaliated in force.
Following the Sinai Campaign and the new Egyptian policy, hostile
acts against Israel, especially those emanating from the Egyptian side, fell
8 Introduction
sharply. The main areas of friction now concentrated on the Syrian border
and to a lesser extent along the Jordanian border. Many observers in Israel
interpreted Egyptian restraint as justification for Dayan and Ben-Gurion’s
prewar hard-line approach toward the Arab world.
The drastic reduction in hostilities by Egypt, which had seriously threat-
ened Israel until the Sinai Campaign, was also seen as proof of Dayan and
Ben-Gurion’s claim that infiltration had been part of the Arabs’ systematic
struggle against Israel rather than an independent phenomenon as claimed
by the opponents of the retaliation policy. The sharp drop in hostile acts,
Ben-Gurion’s supporters claimed, was proof that the Arab regimes were
capable of exercising restraint when it was in their interest; that is, when
they realized that the price to be paid for attacking Israel was far costlier
than the advantage to be gained from the attacks.
The Sinai Campaign also won positive political results for Israel: its
international standing improved. Before the campaign the superpowers had
accepted the Arab position that disavowed the 1949 status quo. They
had intensely debated the political arrangements – mainly the territorial
and demographic ones – involved in changing the status quo. They had
discussed Israel’s pullback from the armistice lines and the need to force
Israel to resettle a large number of Arab refugees. Although the talks had a
critical impact on the fate of the Jewish state, they were conducted without
Israel’s participation.
The Sinai Campaign radically changed this state of affairs. Israel was no
longer seen as a protectorate state whose future was determined mainly by
external forces. Now it was viewed as a Middle East power player that no
international or regional factor could ignore. In the aftermath of the Sinai
Campaign it was clear that no superpower could consider dictating
political-territorial arrangements without Israel’s participation in the
process. Above all, there was almost universal recognition of the validity of
the status quo established after the War of Independence.
These strategic and political developments provided Israel with relative
quiet along its borders, enabling it to turn its attention to social and
economic issues and domestic politics. In retrospect, the interim between
the Sinai Campaign and the 1967 Six-Day War was crucial for shaping
Israel’s social structure and developing the country’s economic base. The
acute political and social crises that occasionally flared up in this period
tend to blur the great socio-economic advances that were made. At the same
time, these crises testify to the diminishing influence of security issues on
Israel’s national agenda.
Another major result of the Sinai Campaign was the cementing of the
French–Israeli connection in developing Israel’s nuclear option. It seems
reasonable to assume that without French–Israeli cooperation during the
campaign, France would not have become so deeply involved in Israel’s
nuclear program. The acquisition of a nuclear option was undoubtedly
one of the most significant achievements for Israel after the war, one that
Introduction 9
enormously altered its image and strategic standing in the regional and
international arenas.
These gains magnified Ben-Gurion’s political power. Now, more than ever,
his desire to bequeath party and state leadership to the young men around
him, especially Moshe Dayan and Shimon Peres, seemed within reach. But
Mapai’s elders – those who had traveled with Ben-Gurion for years and
hoped that after his retirement they and their supporters would inherit
his power – would not tolerate this move. They were determined to foil
Ben-Gurion’s political plans.
This is the background to the internal struggle that rocked Mapai to the
core in the late 1950s. Ben-Gurion and his supporters led by Shimon Peres,
Moshe Dayan, and Giora Yosephtal stood on one side. They strove to make
the most of their patron’s last years in power to guarantee their own status
as his political heirs. On the other side stood Mapai’s elders, headed by Golda
Meir, Pinchas Sapir, and Levi Eshkol; the leaders of the Achdut Ha’avoda
party – Israel Galilee and Yigal Allon; and the heads of the left-wing
Mapam party – Meir Ya’ari and Yakov Hazan. All of these politicians tried
to stave off Ben-Gurion’s heirs-to-be and ensure their own power positions.
The struggle ensued quietly, at a distance from the public spotlight, with
only occasional flare-ups over political events. This happened, for example,
in late 1957 when Ben-Gurion announced his resignation after Achdut
Ha’avoda ministers had leaked to the press the cabinet decision to send
a “senior security official” (Chief of Staff Moshe Dayan) to Germany.
Ben-Gurion demanded that the ministers who had leaked the information
should resign from office. When they refused he felt he had no choice but
tender his own resignation – thus bringing down the government.
On another occasion the “war of accession” reignited over a major polit-
ical controversy known as the Lavon Affair. Lavon was the former defense
minister who felt that he was unjustifiably held responsible for a botched
intelligence operation in Egypt that became known as the “Mishap” (to be
discussed in detail later). Lavon claimed that new evidence had come to
light testifying to his innocence and he demanded a public exoneration
of his role in the fiasco.
The government debated the question at length and finally decided to
appoint a seven-member ministerial committee (the “Committee of Seven”)
to reexamine the case. The wording of the committee’s conclusions lent
itself to an interpretation that exonerated Lavon. Ben-Gurion discredited
the conclusions. At first his tone was moderate. He refrained from taking
administrative measures to enforce his view. Later, he vehemently claimed
that such conclusions could be arrived at only by a judicial body and not
an executive commission such as the “Committee of Seven.”
While Ben-Gurion and the Israeli government were grappling with the
recrudescence of the “Lavon Affair” they also had to deal with a number
of critical and complex political-security issues. The most important was
President Kennedy’s demand for tight inspection controls at the Dimona
10 Introduction
nuclear reactor, whose existence was revealed in late 1960. Kennedy’s
pressure on Israel peaked in the summer of 1963. The president even threat-
ened Israel with drastic economic sanctions if it failed to adhere to the
administration’s demands. Israel was left with two agonizing options: either
comply with Kennedy’s dictates and compromise the Dimona Project, or,
reject Washington’s demands and risk a confrontation with its major ally on
whose support it was heavily dependent.
Ben-Gurion tended to adopt the second option. However, he had to face
stiff opposition within his own party because of this. Many of his colleagues
considered the Dimona Project, which was Ben-Gurion’s brainchild, to be of
very limited defensive value, perhaps just a white elephant. Nevertheless,
they were prepared to let Ben-Gurion bring the project to completion as long
as it did not impair Israel’s political status. Now as it became clear that con-
tinuation of the project would lead to a clash with Washington, they assailed
the nuclear program and demanded its termination.
Other influential circles in the Israeli political system were much more
opposed to the nuclear option. They believed it was an excessive, useless,
and ultimately dangerous project to national security. The massive
American pressure convinced them of the need to curtail the program.
Under these circumstances, Ben-Gurion found himself increasingly
isolated in the national leadership. He also lost support for his positions on
other crucial security and political issues. Against this background, and
along with the scars of the Lavon Affair, he realized there was no way
he could implement his policies. Faced with such severe constraints he
decided to resign from office and the Knesset.
On June 16, 1963, he officially announced his resignation, surprising
even those closest to him. A few hours later, he reconsidered, and withdrew
his resignation from the Knesset but insisted on stepping down from the
offices of prime minister and defense minister. Many people wondered if his
decision to stay in the Knesset portended his plans to return to power at a
future date.
His first clash with his successor, Levi Eshkol, occurred a few months
after his retirement. The dispute, as it appeared in public, revolved around
Ben-Gurion’s insistence on appointing a judicial inquiry to conclude the
“Lavon Affair.” Ben-Gurion reiterated his view that only a judicial inquest
could pass judgment on Lavon’s role in the “security fiasco.”
Most Mapai members opposed reopening the case. Some claimed that the
commission that Ben-Gurion waned to set up had no legal basis, others felt
that Ben-Gurion’s charges were hypocritical since he himself had not dealt
with the issue in a legal framework when he had the authority to do so, and
still others avowed that he was blowing a minor “historical” blot out of all
proportions because of political, and perhaps personal motives to topple
Eshkol’s government at “any price.”
This was the backdrop of Ben-Gurion’s eventual split with the party that
he and his colleagues had founded decades earlier. It was an unprecedented
Introduction 11
event in Israel’s brief political history. Many of Ben-Gurion’s long-time
supporters regarded his extreme step as indefensible. Others, who justified
it on principle, thought it lacked political wisdom since it was obvious that
his break with Mapai would remove his followers from centers of power for
a long time, if not perpetually.
Ben-Gurion ignored the advice of his closest supporters and decided to
set up a new, independent party – Rafi (an acronym for the “List of Israel
Workers and Non-Partisans”). Rafi received a drubbing in the national
elections in late 1965, winning only ten mandates. At this point, however,
it seems that Ben-Gurion’s aura no longer captivated the public, and merely
reflected the wishful thinking of the Old Man’s followers. Moreover, most
of the public opposed Ben-Gurion’s implacable struggle against Eshkol in
the Lavon Affair. Rafi found itself suspended in political limbo, waiting for
a miracle to relieve it of its burden.
Salvation came in the summer of 1967. As tension mounted between
Egypt and Israel in May of that year, pressure was mounting to establish a
national coalition government. Some circles even called for Ben-Gurion’s
return to power. The creation of the national unity government on the eve
of the Six-Day War symbolized the end of Rafi’s political independence.
Shortly after the war Rafi reunited with Mapai, and Ben-Gurion, as on
previous occasions, was left out in the cold.
1 Ben-Gurion–Eshkol
Initial frictions

Ben-Gurion’s resignation
On June 16, 1963, Ben-Gurion announced his resignation from government
and the Knesset. Those close to him were aware of his implacable frustration
and disappointment. They probably expected that at some point the Old
Man would “throw in the towel” and leave office. Still, the timing caught
even his closest associates by surprise. Widespread speculation rose as to his
motives. Even today, nearly half a century later, we cannot determine the
exact reasons for his decision. There were probably several motives for his
resignation, and we will examine them from various perspectives.1
According to the political standards of the time, public figures, certainly
one of Ben-Gurion’s stature, avoided revealing the real reasons behind their
political steps. Like many of his colleagues in office, Ben-Gurion felt that
public figures were duty-bound to their political movements rather than to
private ambitions. This meant that they were extremely reluctant about
discussing openly their political decisions and personal disagreements
related to their political career. Only on rare occasions did they admit their
true feelings to their closest associates.
Ben-Gurion strictly abided by this standard. Only the formal reasons
for his resignation appear in written documents. However, his description
in these documents is light years away from the political reality. He writes
as though he wants to convince future readers that his resignation had
nothing to do with internal or political disputes. His retirement, so he
claims, was due to the fact that he had served a long time in public office,
and that he now wished to devote the rest of his life to telling the state’s
young generation the marvelous story of Israel’s revival. He impassively
notes in his diary that he informed his ministers “that he was forced to
resign for personal reasons, not because of a national problem or particular
event.”2
Several years later, in a letter to Golda Meir, he elaborated on the reasons
behind his decision to resign. He claimed that it was due to exhaustion after
many years at the helm of state, and it was his dream to write the history
of the Zionist Movement, the Yishuv, and the State of Israel: “I resigned
Ben-Gurion–Eshkol: initial frictions 13
from government in June 1963,” he wrote to Golda,

not because of any shortcomings in the party, but because I came to the
conclusion that after serving the public for over thirty years, and at my
age, I had had enough. [I served] fifteen years on the Zionist Executive and
fifteen years in state office. I have decided to quit political office for good
and begin writing the chronicles of the state. In my opinion, [the story]
starts with the founding of the first agricultural school at Mikve Israel in
1870 and will continue to the state’s twentieth anniversary. On more than
one occasion I have explained that the renaissance of Israel did not begin
on May 14, 1948, [the day the Declaration of Independence was pro-
claimed] nor did it end that day. I feel it necessary to tell young people how
the state was established, and what still has to be done to bring it to com-
pletion, if this is possible. I am not sure whether my remaining years will
suffice to conclude this literary task. It is the work I am currently involved
in . . . One of my reasons for retiring was that I did not want a single indi-
vidual to be [overly] identified with the [development of] state. Therefore,
I [handed in my resignation and] I proposed that Eshkol replace me.3

Ben-Gurion must have felt an acute need to relate the story of Israel’s
rebirth to future generations. He also attributed great importance to the
presentation and preservation of his own legacy in the history of the state.
The bulk of historical documentation that he bequeathed testifies suffi-
ciently to this. However, his attempt to depict the importance of historical
writing as the main reason for his retirement, while conspicuously avoiding
the political background that compelled him to quit office, seems artificial
and unconvincing. An experienced leader like Golda Meir, the recipient of
Ben-Gurion’s letter and privy to the events that preceded his resignation,
must have viewed Ben-Gurion’s explanations with disbelief.
Ben-Gurion recommended that Levi Eshkol take his place despite his own
criticism of Eshkol in the period prior to his resignation – especially Eshkol’s
handling of the Lavon Affair. Ben-Gurion’s choice was overwhelmingly
approved by the party. Since Mapai was the ruling party, there was no
question that Ben-Gurion’s successor would come from the party’s ranks.
Eshkol was the second most important figure after Ben-Gurion so there could
be no objection to his succession. The nominating procedures were an
inner-Mapai matter.4
A few hours after Ben-Gurion’s resignation, senior party members
convened in Foreign Minister Golda Meir’s office. The Old Man’s opponents
could hardly contain their satisfaction of his resignation. The previous foreign
minister, Moshe Sharett, who had been forced out of office by Ben-Gurion in
1956, proposed accepting Ben-Gurion’s announcement without reservations.
Those who knew of the long period of stormy relations between Sharett and
Ben-Gurion were probably not surprised. Sharett proposed that Eshkol form
a new government. Zalman Aranne (another Ben-Gurion opponent) added
14 Ben-Gurion–Eshkol: initial frictions
that “everything be done as quickly as possible.” Pinchas Sapir, another of
Ben-Gurion rivals in Mapai, noted there was no reason to be surprised by the
resignation. He reminded them that Ben-Gurion’s threat of early retirement
had been dangling over the party for the past thirty months. His tone sug-
gested that he was not grieving for the Old Man’s departure. Sapir advised
“seeing things realistically,” that is, accepting the resignation and speedily
forming a special committee to choose a replacement candidate.5
Golda recounted, somewhat self-righteously, that she visited Ben-Gurion
before his resignation and they had a “good talk,” but the next morning
“she was stunned. This was an unfriendly act.” In my estimation, Golda’s
version is a distortion of reality. To the best of our knowledge, she and
Ben-Gurion had a tense meeting during which Golda threatened to resign if
Ben-Gurion rejected her demand that Israel’s relations with Germany come
under the control of the Foreign Ministry that she headed, rather than
the Defense Ministry, practically the exclusive fiefdom of Deputy Defense
Minister Shimon Peres. This acrimonious meeting probably removed any
lingering doubts from Ben-Gurion over his resignation. He was fully aware
of Golda Meir’s power in the government and that her positions would gain
overwhelming support if she decided to bring their controversy to the test.
Eshkol was the last person to speak at the meeting. Once again he went out
of his way to portray the image of a public figure “forced” to assume lead-
ership of the party by his colleagues. He intimated his self-doubts about his
suitability for the role. He admitted his “fear of the public” and that “two
other [party members] would make far better candidates. [He did not disclose
their names.]” He replied bitterly to Sharett’s suggestion that he immediately
assume the role, saying “he would not step into every open hole.”6
The next day, June 18, Mapai’s Central Committee convened to discuss
Ben-Gurion’s resignation. The Old Man opened the meeting by congratulating
Eshkol on his advancement and wishing him success in the new post thrust
upon him. He knew Eshkol for many years, and now advised him “not to
insist on compromises but to be more resolute in his decisions.” Eshkol
repeated his deepest concern over the responsibility he had just inherited. But
in a surprising admission of political candor, even before he strengthened his
newly attained position, he revealed that he might not follow in Ben-Gurion’s
footsteps: “. . . you too, Ben-Gurion, compromised occasionally . . . Today our
movement and people need a conciliatory approach now and then.”7
As he was bidding farewell to the Defense Ministry, Ben-Gurion
showered Eshkol with compliments, declaring his full confidence in him.
But he stressed that Eshkol should make sure that his deputy, Shimon Peres
(Ben-Gurion’s young confidant) continued in his role as deputy defense
minister. “Although I leave in sorrow,” he said,

I step out of office knowing that everything is in capable, trustworthy


hands. This fills me with great satisfaction. When I retired ten years ago
I proposed that Eshkol take my place. Why he declined then . . . I don’t
know. I am glad he has now agreed to replace me.8
Ben-Gurion–Eshkol: initial frictions 15
In the previously mentioned letter to Golda, Ben-Gurion claimed to have
recommended Eshkol as his replacement because he believed that Eshkol
acted in the national, rather than sectarian, interest. Eshkol had supported
him in most of his disputes with other state leaders. In Ben-Gurion’s
opinion, the basis of political opposition to him stemmed from opponents’
lack of “statehood consciousness.” But even among his colleagues, Eshkol
was an exception.

I felt that he [Eshkol] agreed with me [on various issues] not because I
was prime minister but because these were his views too. I believed that
his approach to issues stemmed from his conviction that national inter-
ests must precede partisan or personal considerations. Therefore,
Mapai members and the president [accepted my recommendation] and
asked him to form a new government. The new government’s composi-
tion, platform, and plans . . . reflected the fact that it was a government
of continuity, and Eshkol termed it such.9

Here, as in many other statements by Ben-Gurion, the historian faces the


dilemma of interpreting Ben-Gurion’s written code. Did he really believe –
as his letter to Golda Meir implies – that his supporters acted out of a
“higher awareness of statehood” and that his opponents were motivated
solely by partisan and personal interests? Could a leader as experienced as
Ben-Gurion disregard the sincerity of the opinions of others? Could he
reject arguments, and impugn them with personal or political biases simply
because they took issue with his judgments? Could he have expected that
Golda, also an experienced political leader, would swallow his disingenuous
explanations? Such questions stymie the historian and defy clear-cut
answers.
Ben-Gurion’s statements give the impression that he really believed that
his support of Eshkol as heir-designate was a decisive factor in the Mapai
leaders’ decision to nominate Eshkol for prime minister and defense minis-
ter. By emphasizing his personal contribution to Eshkol’s ascendance to
power, Ben-Gurion may have been trying to magnify and justify his future
accusations against Eshkol. If so, then Eshkol’s ingratitude toward Ben-Gurion
goes beyond politics and becomes a personal issue. Ben-Gurion’s statements
imply that Eshkol was to blame not only for the faulty running of state
affairs but also for personal misconduct toward someone he should have
owed eternal gratitude.
In reality Eshkol’s nomination was an entirely different story. For
years he had been in the party’s second spot. Prior to Ben-Gurion’s 1963
resignation his status as the Old Man’s natural successor was a foregone
conclusion. Furthermore, as finance minister he had wielded enormous
power domestically and built up solid power bases. Ben-Gurion’s near-total
concentration on military and foreign affairs granted Eshkol a wide berth
on social and economic issues. The absolute backing that Ben-Gurion
gave him also elevated his status. Eshkol’s compromising and appeasing
16 Ben-Gurion–Eshkol: initial frictions
nature further contributed to his popularity in political circles and the
general public.
It should be recalled that when Ben-Gurion retired from government in
December 1953, he recommended Eshkol as his replacement. Surprisingly,
he justified his choice by claiming that social and economic issues were of
national priority, although it is commonly agreed security matters assumed
first priority in this period: “I propose Levi Eshkol for prime minister,” he
announced to the party’s political committee approximately one month
before his resignation: “The prime minister’s main role now and in the
future is economic coordination. Since this job is being done by the Finance
Ministry, it is only natural that the finance minister should handle it.”10
However, in 1953 Moshe Sharett had been the number two figure in
Mapai’s leadership and had earned international fame and public respect.
The choice of Eshkol as Ben-Gurion’s successor would have been interpreted
as a vote of no confidence in Sharett. Therefore, the Mapai elders decided
to reject Ben-Gurion’s recommendation and nominate Sharett. Neverthe-
less, since his candidacy had been raised by the “kingmaker,” Eshkol was
“marked” as a potential heir – a status that put him in a strong position for
premiership a decade later.
When Ben-Gurion stood to resign in 1963, it was obvious who his
successor would be. The balance of power in Mapai shows that Ben-Gurion
had no choice but to recommend Eshkol. In 1963 Ben-Gurion could be sure
that the party would not choose someone else. Had Ben-Gurion submitted
the name of one of the younger members in his immediate circle, he
would have precipitated a full-blown political crisis that would have
paralyzed Mapai in this critical period.11
Even before his resignation, a powerful group had emerged in Mapai that
actively sought to diminish Ben-Gurion’s political authority. The hard core
included Golda Meir, Pinchas Sapir, Zalman Aranne, and Reuven Barkat.
Eshkol sympathized with the group but continued to maintain close ties with
Ben-Gurion. A “strategic pact” was soon forged between the Ben-Gurion’s
Mapai opponents and key figures in Achdut Ha’avoda and Mapam. The aim
of this coalition was to reduce Ben-Gurion’s political clout, particularly by
disparaging his two protégés – Peres and Dayan. It was obvious that
Ben-Gurion’s resignation empowered this powerful group in Mapai to deter-
mine the inheritance. While it unquestionably supported Eshkol, Ben-Gurion’s
recommendation added a moral imprimatur to the group’s decision. Either
way the dice fell – Eshkol would have been anointed.
Ben-Gurion admits that he quickly realized his mistake in thinking that
Eshkol would pursue the same course as his. Eshkol’s divergence took place
gradually. Shortly after taking office Eshkol reiterated his concern over the
enormous burden he had to shoulder. He revealed that he felt awkward
standing before the public and he even questioned his own ability to carry
out the task. He gave the impression of a leader unsure of his ability to
navigate the ship of state with the same authority as his predecessor. He often
Ben-Gurion–Eshkol: initial frictions 17
confided that he would eagerly hand back to Ben-Gurion “what he had
been entrusted with.” He reemphasized his commitment to continue in Ben-
Gurion’s path by consulting with him on key political and defense issues.12

The aborted Ben-Gurion–Adenauer meeting


Eshkol’s self-confidence gradually strengthened. When he assumed office he
steered clear of political and defense issues, but the more he familiarized him-
self with them, the more he discovered he could manage them. Surrounded
by ambitious people who had waited for the opportunity to oust Ben-Gurion
and his proponents from power centers, Eshkol cautiously began taking steps
that demonstrated his intention of separating himself from Ben-Gurion’s
political-defense line and from Ben-Gurion himself. The more he stabilized
his independent status, the less he included Ben-Gurion in decision making.
The first indication of tension between the two men appeared a few
months after Eshkol had formed his government. At this stage, many party
members still sought Ben-Gurion’s advice, certain that this had no impact
on Eshkol’s standing. One of the people to speak with Ben-Gurion was
Felix Shinar, Israel’s unofficial ambassador to Germany, who brought the
Old Man a letter from Chancellor Adenauer requesting a meeting. Shinar
urged Ben-Gurion to accept the invitation because of Adenauer’s approaching
retirement. Shinar hoped to take advantage of the special relation between
the two statesmen in order to reaffirm Germany’s long-term commitments
to Israel before Adenauer left office. Ben-Gurion said he accepted the invi-
tation, but would have to clear it through Eshkol and Golda as prescribed
by protocol. Ben-Gurion called on Eshkol a few days later for his approval.13
Eshkol must have found himself in an awkward situation. The decision was
not an easy one. At this point Eshkol sought refuge in a ploy that became his
trademark – he chose to avoid deciding. He refrained from giving an immedi-
ate answer but promised Teddy Kollek, for years the head of the Prime
Minister’s office and close confidant of Ben-Gurion, that he would decide on
it that evening. He may have been hoping that Ben-Gurion would understand
the evasive maneuver and cease pressuring him. Obviously a delay of a few
hours could not have made it easier for Eshkol to decide. By evening he still
had no answer for Ben-Gurion. The next morning Kollek informed Ben-
Gurion that, “Eshkol had some doubts about agreeing to the meeting with
Chancellor Adenauer.” Eshkol felt that such a meeting could be interpreted as
“running after A. [Adenauer].” Ben-Gurion must have been surprised by this
reasoning: “This hesitation is strange,” he noted in his diary entry for that day.
However, it appears that even at this point Ben-Gurion still looked upon
Eshkol favorably and could not imagine that Eshkol was slighting him.14
Several days later the issue resurfaced. The reasons behind Eshkol’s hesi-
tation became gradually clear. Shinar again met with Ben-Gurion and
reported that he had spoken with Eshkol and suggested sending Adenauer
a message stating that Israel’s German policy would continue along the
18 Ben-Gurion–Eshkol: initial frictions
course charted by Ben-Gurion. Eshkol seemed to agree to this approach, but
Golda Meir, who had always opposed Ben-Gurion’s policy towards Germany,
rejected it. She based her case on the formalities of diplomatic protocol,
insisting that Adenauer must initiate the approach to Eshkol. Ben-Gurion
told Shinar that he was still waiting for Eshkol’s authorization for his visit
to Adenauer although he [Ben-Gurion] had personally discussed the matter
with him. Shinar promised to check with Eshkol at their next meeting.15
A few days later Ben-Gurion and Eshkol met at Kollek’s home. Eshkol
could no longer keep from telling Ben-Gurion his decision. Probably with
apprehension in his heart, he informed Ben-Gurion that he objected to the
meeting with Adenauer. Ben-Gurion must have been deeply hurt to hear
this. The meeting with Adenauer was very important to him. He believed
that his close personal ties with the chancellor might win increased German
aid to Israel in many areas. Adenauer was about to retire and his successors
might not have the same level of commitment toward Israel. This explains
Ben-Gurion’s willingness to swallow his pride and restate his request for a
meeting with Adenauer. Ben-Gurion finally realized that his requests had
not influenced Eshkol to change his position. Ben-Gurion had to learn the
hard way that his “deterrent power” had sharply deteriorated. In his diary
he notes laconically: “I did not argue with him about it.”16
Notwithstanding this clash, Ben-Gurion continued to support Eshkol’s
leadership, albeit with a heavy heart. He told this to a confidant, Dov
Joseph, who urged the Old Man to return to the party’s leadership. But Ben-
Gurion seems to have been conflict-ridden over this issue, and preferred to
leave the door open for his followers to appeal to him. He gives the impres-
sion that he wanted to be cajoled into returning to the national leadership.
At the beginning of the conversation with Joseph, Ben-Gurion offered new
reasons for his resignation: “The burden was too heavy, almost unbearable,
especially the defense portfolio.” But he felt he could retire without undue
distress because “there were two colleagues who could be counted upon –
Eshkol and Shimon Peres.” Joseph could not restrain himself, “[But] the
people trust only you.” Ben-Gurion was undoubtedly pleased to hear this
but made no response. Joseph warned him that an irreconcilable situation
was developing in the leadership that could block Ben-Gurion’s return to the
prime minister’s office. Ben-Gurion kept his aplomb (at least outwardly): “I
told [Joseph] that I had no intention of [returning to power] and I did not
mind if the path was blocked.”17
When Reuven Barkat, the secretary of Mapai, offered Ben-Gurion an
opportunity to be the keynote speaker at the party’s convention (due to be
held in February 1965), the Old Man refused, declaring that he no longer
wished to be involved in state matters. He informed Barkat that he

could not give the main speech on such an occasion because it would
entail state issues. And I’ve decided that once retired I’d no longer
speak publicly or privately about defense or foreign policies. I think
Eshkol ought to deliver the keynote address.
Ben-Gurion–Eshkol: initial frictions 19
Ben-Gurion probably would have consented had he been pressured more,
but such pressure was not forthcoming.18
Eshkol’s speech at the convention must have grated Ben-Gurion’s ears.
Eshkol adopted a clever tactic: instead of confronting Ben-Gurion, whose
status was still very high even among his opponents, Eshkol preferred to
debate with Peres and Dayan. But Eshkol could justifiably assume that
everybody knew that the arrows were aimed at the Old Man. The confer-
ence’s standing committee put the resolutions to a vote. Ben-Gurion dis-
agreed with some of them, referring to them as “strange,” and asked to be
given the opportunity to express his reservations, but the committee
refused.19
Despite the growing friction with Ben-Gurion on both the political and
personal level, Eshkol was careful – at this stage – not to make major
security decisions without consulting his predecessor. For example, Eshkol
asked Ben-Gurion’s advice about the appointment of senior officers to the
general staff. The chief of staff, Zvi Tzur, was to step down in early
January 1964 and Yitzhak Rabin to be appointed in his place. Tzur
reported to Ben-Gurion that Ezer Weizman, the Israeli Air Force comman-
der, would be promoted to deputy chief of staff and Chaim Bar-Lev would
become the commanding officer of the Northern Command. Weizman,
however, refused to vacate his post and assume his new role without a
guarantee that his replacement would be Colonel Motti Hod. Rabin, the
chief of staff-designate, opposed this promotion. He wanted someone else
for the job. Ben-Gurion too had his own ideas on the matter. He agreed
with Weizman’s choice. He regarded Weizman as a daring officer who
would balance a cautious chief of staff like Rabin. Ben-Gurion also had
qualms about Bar-Lev who appeared to lack the requisite creativity, initia-
tive, and boldness for such a position. “It would be most unfavorable
if Yitzhak [Rabin], who will certainly make a good chief-of-staff, has
Bar-Lev as his deputy.”20
Discussing the candidates, Eshkol informed Ben-Gurion that he intended
to respect the Old Man’s promise to Yitzhak Rabin on his appointment, but
he did not know whom to choose for his deputy. It seems that the Achdut
Ha’avoda party was putting a lot of pressure on Eshkol to appoint Bar-Lev
for the position, thus ensuring the perpetuation of the “Palmach genera-
tion” in the general staff. Ben-Gurion told Eshkol in clear terms what
he thought about the senior officers: Rabin was “honest, intelligent, and
dependable, although somewhat overcautious.” Therefore, in order to
balance the scales, a more “activist,” that is, aggressive officer like Weizman
should be his deputy.21
Later, Ben-Gurion explained the motives behind his position. As always on
the question of senior IDF promotions, Ben-Gurion chose his words carefully:

It would be good if [Weizman], a talented officer, became deputy


chief-of-staff. I was unsure when I nominated him for commander of
the air force because he gave the impression of being an adventurer.
20 Ben-Gurion–Eshkol: initial frictions
But it turned out for the best. He proved himself a responsible
commander and I believe he will make an excellent deputy chief-of-staff.22

Ben-Gurion had no doubt that Motti Hod was the best man for the job of
air force commander: “Yitzhak Rabin’s candidate is too old . . . .” He
reminded Eshkol that this nomination was his [Eshkol’s] to make as defense
minister: “The defense minister is not obligated to accept the chief-of-staff’s
recommendation for appointments.”23
Having been consulted over a sensitive issue as IDF appointments
assuaged Ben-Gurion’s anger with Eshkol for vetoing his meeting with
Adenauer and his treatment at the Mapai convention. Ben-Gurion’s
conduct and statements reflect his yearning to influence decisions on
political and defense issues. He may have tried to give the impression,
unconvincingly we may add, that he preferred to leave the stage and let his
successor take over. However, he seemed quite satisfied when Eshkol asked
for his advice. “As a reward” Ben-Gurion sometimes complimented him on
his decisions or statements. Later, Ben-Gurion became less forthcoming
with his flattery.24
Just before Eshkol met with President Johnson for the first time in June
1964, he found it necessary to calm Ben-Gurion’s anxiety over Johnson’s
intentions regarding the Dimona nuclear reactor. Ben-Gurion claimed that
Johnson’s offer to assist Israel in the construction of a nuclear-based water
desalination facility indicated an American desire “to take over Dimona”
(i.e. to impose strict control measures over Israel’s nuclear activity). Eshkol
disagreed with that assessment. He thought there was no justification to
Ben-Gurion’s fears. For Eshkol to express such an opinion on a super-sensitive
security issue that had been the “monopoly” of Ben-Gurion and his closest
associates for years shows the degree of boldness and self-confidence that
the prime minister had gained in a relatively short time.25
Eshkol also proposed transporting to Israel for reburial the bones of
Ze’ev Jabotinsky, the ideological leader of the right-wing Herut Party and
Ben-Gurion’s long-time rival. Eshkol was fully aware of Ben-Gurion’s hos-
tility toward right-wing elements in general, and the Revisionist movement
in particular. He must have realized that Ben-Gurion’s reaction to such a
move would be negative and the Old Man would probably consider it a
personal affront. Eshkol spoke with Jabotinsky’s son, Ari Jabotinsky, after
the government’s approval of the proposal. He mentioned his dilemma over
the issue and his hope “not to get entangled” by it. Therefore he wanted the
government’s involvement to appear minimal. Needless to say, this decision
did not improve Eshkol’s standing with Ben-Gurion.26
In the middle of March 1964, Kollek told Ben-Gurion of the govern-
ment’s decision to rebury Jabotinsky in Israel. It is not clear whether Eshkol
asked Kollek to inform the Old Man or Kollek himself decided to do it.
Whatever the case, Kollek wanted Ben-Gurion not to be surprised by a
radio announcement of the government’s decision. Ben-Gurion reckoned
Ben-Gurion–Eshkol: initial frictions 21
that the decision passed in the cabinet with a majority or even unanimously.
Once he discovered that the government vote was irrevocable, he indirectly
attacked Eshkol for political “cowardice.” If Eshkol really believed in the
importance of bringing Jabotinsky’s body for final rest in Israel, Ben-Gurion
wondered indignantly, then why did he not suggest this when he, Ben-Gurion,
headed the government? “My personal objection,” Ben-Gurion wrote
disingenuously, “should not have been an obstacle for Eshkol since the
government could decide contradictory to the prime minister’s opinion, as
it often did.” That evening, Ben-Gurion learned that the government’s
decision had been unanimous.27
Needless to say, Ben-Gurion was disconcerted by the government
resolution. Although three decades had passed since his failed attempt at
forming a political pact with Jabotinsky, Ben-Gurion still felt rancor toward
him, his ideological line, and his followers, especially Menachem Begin.
Immediately after the Knesset decision, Ben-Gurion wrote sarcastically and
bitterly in his diary:

The evening’s papers are naturally full of the historical tale – transporting
Jabo’s bones [sic]. Herut [Begin’s political party] had a double celebra-
tion yesterday: [Bringing over] Jabo’s corpse [for burial in Israel] and
founding the Tchelet Lavan [Blue White] faction in the Histadrut
whose aim is to replace the red [socialist] flag.28

Ben-Gurion naturally interpreted Eshkol’s decisions as personal insults


even if they were unintended. His own reticence, as well as his muted
rhetoric in the diary, reveal little about how he actually felt. The reader has
to draw his conclusions by analyzing the context and not by accepting his
writing at face value. For example, he noted in his diary with apparent
anger and mortification that when he invited Eshkol and Golda to dinner
at the hotel where he was staying and told them of his dialogue with
President Charles De Gaulle, “Eshkol had to rush off to Tel-Aviv to attend
a soccer match against an Asian team.”29
Ben-Gurion learned the hard way that past glory becomes irrelevant in
the present. His foes sensed the waning of the Old Lion and that he and his
supporters were growing more vulnerable and could be hurt without fear
of retaliation. But Ben-Gurion still had the fight in him. His estrangement
from Eshkol became conspicuous and his disapproval of the prime minister
on most matters grew more heated. Nevertheless, he limited his criticism at
this stage to Eshkol’s handling of internal party affairs and his failure to
meet his commitment to maintain a “government of continuity.” He wrote
to Eshkol in October 1964:

For several weeks I have been debating whether to write to you about
an issue fateful to our movement. I hesitate for lack of confidence
whether we can still discuss such matters candidly. Whether your heart
22 Ben-Gurion–Eshkol: initial frictions
is open to hearing harsh and perhaps unpleasant charges, though they
are spoken only out of concern and regard for our political movement,
not out of spite, anger, or any other personal impulse.30

Later Ben-Gurion completely abandoned this relatively moderate wording.


His attitude became vindictive, and he assailed Eshkol’s competency to hold
the highest positions in the state. Ben-Gurion launched an uncompromising
campaign against the prime minister–defense minister and his supporters
both in and outside the government. Ben-Gurion’s brash personality and his
adversaries’ indifference to reconciling with him could only lead to his split
from Mapai. Ben-Gurion tended to rebuke his rivals on a personal level,
and many responded in kind. The alienation between him and Mapai’s
leadership became pronounced, lasting even after Eshkol’s death on
February 26, 1969.
It is interesting to note that a decade earlier Ben-Gurion had raised
similar complaints against Moshe Sharett, accusing him of being unfit for
the office of foreign minister, and especially later in the dual role of prime
minister–foreign minister. The main difference between then and now was
that Ben-Gurion had generally attacked Sharett in private and relatively
closed forums. Ben-Gurion had been wary of treating Sharett disrespectfully
and he avoided inveighing against his moral character. He mostly criticized
his suitability to the demands of leadership.31
Ben-Gurion’s persistent, uncompromising, even obsessive campaign
against Eshkol reflects his profound disappointment with the person he had
chosen as his successor. But the suspicion lingers that personal biases may
also have been involved. He had held key power roles for many years that
party members, once under his tutelage, now filled. This “reversal” may
have led him to become easily insulted and mortified. Also, Eshkol’s
growing tendency to exclude him and his circle from Mapai’s inner ring
of decision makers must have enhanced his sense of affront. Finally, we
cannot totally rule out the possibility that Ben-Gurion’s struggle with
Eshkol was due to the Old Man’s secret aspiration – his formal denials
notwithstanding – to be asked back to the party’s leadership as he had been
a decade earlier.
2 The Lavon Affair

The espionage operation in Egypt


The basic issue behind Ben-Gurion’s conflict with Eshkol was the latter’s
handling of an extremely complex, still unresolved political-military fiasco,
known as the Lavon Affair. It originated in a major Israeli blunder during
an intelligence operation in Egypt in 1954. The operation’s aim was to dis-
rupt the rapprochement between Egypt and the Western Powers in general,
and Egypt’s relations with Britain in particular. Israel tried to foil, or at
least delay, the departure of British troops from Egypt according to the
Anglo-Egyptian Agreement.
The prevailing assessment in Israel was that the British withdrawal from
Egypt would place Israel in grave danger. A special intelligence report
prepared on the eve of the sailing stated that the Anglo-Egyptian Agreement
introduced “a fundamental change in the present defense alignment in the
Middle East.” The report emphasized the dangers that Israel faced as a
result of the British withdrawal:

1 The transfer of Britain’s main Middle East base to the Egyptians will
provide them with excellent military installations. The Egyptian air
force will be able to advance much closer to Israel’s border.
2 The removal of an effective buffer between Egypt and Israel will
increase the Egyptian army’s ability to move against Israel.
3 Western strategic reserves in the region will be weakened and dispersed
to other areas.
4 Egypt’s political status will be strengthened.
5 The Middle East’s status will be altered in the West’s strategic planning.1

The Israeli intelligence operation went horribly awry for reasons that still
remain a mystery. The spy ring’s leader may have been a double agent who
betrayed the other members. Whatever the reason, the members of the ring
were arrested by Egyptian security authorities. Two of them, Moshe
Azar and Dr Shmuel Marzuk, both from Egypt’s Jewish community, were
executed; another member, Max Binnet, committed suicide; the others
were imprisoned.
24 The Lavon Affair
Why were the prisoners forgotten?
The “Prisoners of the Affair,” as they became known, received long jail
sentences. For undisclosed reasons Israel did not demand their release after
the Suez Campaign even though thousands of Egyptian prisoners had been
captured during the war. Two of the Israeli prisoners, Meir Zafran and
Meir Meyuchas, were released after seven years. The others, Victor Levi,
Robert Dassa, Marcel Ninio, and Philip Nathanson remained in confinement.
In 1966, American-mediated negotiations between Israel and Egypt for
their release came to naught.2
In the wake of the Six-Day War Israel again found itself with thousands
of Egyptian POWs (Prisoners of War). Egypt also captured a number of IDF
soldiers. A few months after the war the two sides negotiated a prisoner
exchange, again under the auspices of the Americans. On October 11, 1967,
the Israeli government, under pressure from within and outside the political
establishment, decided to release the Egyptian prisoners on condition that the
“Affair Prisoners” were also set free. The issue was brought up again in
January 1968, and the following month all of the remaining Israeli prisoners
were released.3
Some of the “Affair Prisoners” were embittered over the indifference
toward their suffering displayed by Israeli authorities. They believed that
Israel could have done much more to obtain their freedom. Explanations
for Israel’s diffidence claimed that Israel was unwilling to allow Egypt to
extract an exorbitant price for their release. Others maintained that
senior officials feared that the freed prisoners would open a Pandora’s
Box that could undermine Mapai’s hegemony and even upset Israel’s
political stability.
Shortly before the outbreak of the Six-Day War, Avraham Dar, a high-
ranking officer in the intelligence community wrote to the chief of staff,
Yitzhak Rabin, a strongly worded letter regarding the attitude toward the
“Affair’s Prisoners”: “During the Sinai Campaign,” he wrote,

I was outside the country, serving in the army at the Suez Canal until
[Israel’s] withdrawal. It is no secret that I felt the need to go there [to
Egypt] in the hope of entering the country by force and in the ensuing
fray liberate the prisoners. In the meantime, the government decided to
release all the Egyptian prisoners, including generals and other high-
ranking officers, without any attempt to exchange them for our boys –
Israelis in every way. They were, and still are, IDF soldiers . . . I don’t
know on how many people’s consciences lies the fact that three men
and one woman, all IDF conscripts, are still rotting away in an
Egyptian jail, as they have been for the last thirteen years. I am forced
to raise the matter now that a possibility appears [for their release],
even [if it is] a remote chance . . . I hope you will read between the lines
as though we had spoken face to face. I’m certain that having brought
The Lavon Affair 25
the matter to your attention you will take responsibility for their fate
and do everything possible to seize the opportunity which has come our
way to obtain their release.4

A few months after the war, in a letter to the Head of the Mossad, Meir
Amit, Dar repeated his demand:

Shortly after the Six-Day War I wrote a letter to the chief-of-staff, raising
the problem of our prisoners in Egypt. I requested that this time, unlike
our conduct following the Sinai Campaign, the release of [our] prison-
ers would be an inseparable issue in the negotiations for the return of
captured Egyptian officers. I understand that the prisoner issue is our
highest concern, and that it is your responsibility . . . Therefore, I’m
asking you to be uncompromising in that no [prisoner] exchange will
take place without this condition . . . During the Sinai Campaign . . . I
never imagined they [the Israeli government] would give up so easily on
their return . . . Nothing can justify another failure. I hope the doubt and
fear that I express are only in my imagination.5

Approximately one month later, Dar rushed off a letter to Prime Minister
Eshkol. He recalled that in 1951 he had recruited the members of the spy
ring in Egypt, and the following year they were brought to Israel, inducted
into the IDF, given training, and received officer ranks. They returned to
Egypt to carry out their missions:

On two occasions I returned to Egypt to try and rescue them, once imme-
diately after their arrest and the second time during the Sinai Campaign
[in 1956]. Duty compelled me to keep silent. Following the Sinai
Campaign someone decided to stifle the issue and the Egyptian POWs
were exchanged without any attempt at freeing our prisoners. It was the
irony of fate that the Egyptian judge, General Digwi, who convicted and
sentenced our prisoners, became our captive. Still no attempt was made
to exploit the “asset” and gain the release of our prisoners. At the time I
was stuck at the Suez Canal and learned about it too late. There was no
sense in bewailing [this loss] but I hoped there would be another oppor-
tunity to save them as indeed there now is. It would be outrageous if we
concede the principle that no [Egyptian] prisoners will be exchanged
unless the IDF prisoners in Egypt are part of the deal. The prisoners’
comrades who were active in the underground and Zionist movements in
Egypt, as well as the prisoners’ families, believe that our government is
doing the best it can and that “All Israel is responsible for one another” –
especially for IDF officers. I cannot say what will happen if we disappoint
them this time . . . We were trained in the underground, the Palmach, and
the IDF not to abandon a comrade on the battlefield. Unfortunately, in
this instance we cannot pride ourselves on this noble value.6
26 The Lavon Affair
Who gave the order?
In the wake of the botched espionage operation, the execution of two of the
people involved, and the incarceration of the others, the question naturally
arose as to who was responsible for the catastrophe. Since the issue had far-
reaching political and strategic implications, the questions were not directed
only to the operational circumstances leading to the failure but also to the
wisdom in initiating such an operation. Since Israel was almost totally
dependent upon the Western Powers, the main question was whether it
could afford to take risks that could critically impair its relations with them.
Suspicion revolved around two figures, each of whom could have autho-
rized the operation: the defense minister, Pinchas Lavon, and the head of
military intelligence, Benyamin Gibli. Neither claimed responsibility, each
accused the other.7
The entire affair was investigated in various forums over the years but
none of the inquiries succeeded in drawing clear-cut conclusions. After
Lavon’s dismissal from government and Ben-Gurion’s return to the leadership,
the affair faded away. Like other episodes that had incensed the Yishuv and
the state, this one too seemed to disappear from the public agenda. Ben-
Gurion certainly should have wanted it to die out. Considering the major
political challenges, domestic and foreign, that Israel had to face, political
calm and stability were vital to the country. Further rehashing of the affair
could only imperil the country.
However, by the late fifties, the affair reemerged due to the political
struggles waged against Ben-Gurion and his entourage. Senior members of
Mapai felt that Ben-Gurion was sidelining them and transferring the party’s
leadership to the young cubs led by Dayan, Peres, and Giora Yosephtal. In
the summer of 1958, Ben-Gurion had naively expressed this orientation:

This afternoon, some colleagues came over to discuss internal [Mapai]


affairs. To my dismay, I realized that the situation is much worse than
I thought. [Mordechai] Namir, Lavon and others called for the
dismissal of Giora [Yosephtal from his position as party secretary].
[They alleged] that he organizes and incites junior party members
against the elders. Lavon spoke bitterly of the young ones who seek to
usurp authority. I tried to find out who the young ones were. I soon
realized that the [veteran members’] anger was directed mainly at
Shimon [Peres] and Moshe [Dayan]. I refused to back those charges.
On the contrary, I expressed my admiration for both of them and their
dedicated, successful work, though like all of us, neither is without
blemish. I said that we had to find a way of winning over the young
generation that is the future of the nation.8

In mid-1960, Lavon claimed that he had come across new evidence that
proved his innocence in the Affair. In early May, Ben-Gurion invited him to
The Lavon Affair 27
discuss the matter. The natural question that Lavon raised was why did
Ben-Gurion avoid investigating the affair when he returned to power in
1955, first as defense minister and then as prime minister and defense min-
ister? Ben-Gurion told Lavon that he avoided delving into the fiasco
because he doubted whether it was possible to reach any viable conclusions.
Lavon responded that he had received more information from Yossi Harel,
a senior intelligence officer, that documents had been forged in order to
incriminate him (Lavon). Ben-Gurion asked Lavon to show him the mater-
ial. He promised to refer the material to his adjutant, Haim Ben-David, who
would make a preliminary examination of Lavon’s claims.9
In response Lavon demanded that Ben-Gurion publicly announce that
Lavon had not given the order to carry out the operation. Ben-Gurion
refused, although he acknowledged the importance of the information
that Lavon had brought before the committee. To justify his position,
Ben-Gurion employed evasive, formalistic reasoning: “I have not investi-
gated the matter,” he allegedly told Lavon, “I don’t know who is innocent,
and I won’t make a pronouncement.” Furthermore, Ben-Gurion informed
Lavon that since the blame falls either on Lavon or the “senior officer,”
then “clearing” Lavon’s name would necessarily mean casting the blame
on Gibli.10
It seems that beyond these formalities, Ben-Gurion refused to make a
statement exonerating Lavon because he realized that the interminable
gnawing at the affair would undermine the stability of his government and
reflect unfavorably on him and his associates. On his return to government
in 1955 the political situation was amenable for him. Lavon had been
ousted from government and compensated with the job of secretary of
the Histadrut. In fact, there was a broad consensus that Lavon bore the
responsibility for the intelligence fiasco while Ben-Gurion’s disciples, Dayan
and Peres, were almost completely cleared of responsibility, and their way
to the top of the political hierarchy seemed certain.
In response to Ben-Gurion’s attitude, Lavon brought his case before the
Knesset Foreign Affairs and Security Committee in October 1960. He told
the committee that the issue had compelled him to resign from office as
defense minister, and that the matter before them was in the public and
national interest and not just a personal judicial issue. Therefore, he
disagreed with Ben-Gurion’s assertion that he should direct his case to the
legal system. He proposed that either the government itself or the Foreign
Affairs and Security Committee decide the case. The press caught wind of
Lavon’s statements and the Israeli political system was shaken with an
unprecedented uproar.11
The former commander of Israeli intelligence, Benyamin Gibli, also tried
to clear his name (in order to remove Ben-Gurion’s blockage of his military
promotion). Since Lavon’s loyalists blamed Gibli for the fiasco, Gibli sent a
letter to Haim Laskov, the chief of staff, demanding a judicial inquest
that would settle the riddle once and for all: who gave the order for the
28 The Lavon Affair
intelligence operation? Ben-Gurion, the defense minister, received Gibli’s
letter and handed it to the justice minister, Pinchas Rosen.12
Lavon’s conduct not only stemmed from the natural desire to clear
his name but was also motivated by practical political considerations.
Ben-Gurion’s supporters believed that Lavon had been set up by circles that
wanted to sabotage Ben-Gurion’s political position by making cynical use
of the intelligence fiasco in Egypt. Naturally suspicion fell on circles in
Achdut Ha’avoda, Mapam, and Ben-Gurion’s Mapai rivals. The Old Man
noted in his diary, “Almogi [a Ben-Gurion supporter] believes that Lavon
has organized a group to defeat the party in the elections.”13

The political implications


These developments and pressures forced the government to establish a
ministerial committee (October 30, 1960) “to study all the material
pertinent to the ‘affair’ and present its conclusions to the government.” This
committee was made up of seven ministers, and thus became known as the
Committee of Seven. It was headed by Pinchas Rosen, the justice minister.
Other members included the minister of the interior, Chaim Moshe Shapira,
and the finance minister, Levi Eshkol. The proceedings ran from November 30
to December 21, 1960.14
Rosen was considered an exemplary public official and judicial expert.
His presence on the blue-ribbon commission was intended to endow its
conclusions with the highest rectitude and objectivity. Even critics of the
conclusions would be hard pressed to convince the public that a commission
headed by Rosen had been prejudiced or spurious. But it was soon realized
that the dominant figure on the commission was Eshkol, whose practical
experience and political clout enabled him to counsel the other members,
including Rosen, toward conclusions that were politically congenial to him.15
The commission handed its verdict to the government on December 25.
It stated, inter alia, that Lavon had not given the order to carry out the
unfortunate operation, and that it was done without his knowledge.
Although none of the witnesses had been properly questioned, the commission
noted that it did not believe the senior officer and that “for the ministerial
commission’s needs it was sufficient to state that there was sufficient reason
to assume that [Gibli’s] letter, intended to prove Lavon’s responsibility for
ordering the mishap, was a forgery.”16
Ben-Gurion was upset by the committee’s conclusions, but he made no
attempt to refute them. He only claimed that the commission had exceeded
its authority. He pointed out that it was a ministerial committee whose
members came from the executive branch. Therefore, it was not authorized
to acquit or inculpate the accused. Such a verdict, he claimed, could only
come from a judicial body. In its conclusions, he stressed, the Committee of
Seven had undermined the democratic foundations of the state that are based
on the separation of authorities. Ben-Gurion demanded the formation of a
The Lavon Affair 29
judicial inquiry that would have the authority to call witnesses, interrogate
them, and hand down legal verdicts. He repeated this demand on many
occasions. In a letter to Golda he wrote:

I had a heated argument with Eshkol in 1960 over the ministerial


commission that I felt should not have been established at all. The issue
it was supposed to investigate should have been brought before a
national, judicial body. The Committee of Seven skewed its evaluation
and distorted the truth, justice, and basic laws of the state. This was the
reason for my resignation. The government has a collective responsi-
bility and I could not be partner to a miscarriage of justice. But I still
believed that the members [of the commission] made an innocent
mistake, and I stated this in my letter of resignation to the president.17

In early May 1961, Ben-Gurion invited Rosen to his home to explain to


him his objections of the committee’s conclusions: “I told him,” Ben-Gurion
wrote in his diary,

that we had worked together since the founding of the state . . . and
[although] we had many differences of opinion, there was always
mutual trust [between us]. I would not like to see our ways part in
anger. I disagree with his conduct on the committee. As minister of
justice I had expected him to act more responsibly than the others. He
should have known that acquitting one party meant incriminating the
other. Only a court of law can do that . . . I considered the committee’s
conduct a dangerous precedent. The procedures of the Committee of
Seven were also rather strange. They accepted evidence irrelevant to the
issue at hand and questioned witnesses biased in favor of one party yet
refused to hear the other party . . . I find Rosen’s explanations uncon-
vincing. I let him know that I respected his integrity and decency but
I firmly believed he had made a grievous error.18

Rosen replied that Ben-Gurion’s accusations were without basis. The


Committee of Seven, he argued, had not judged the case and had not been
so presumptuous as to assume judicial authority. It could neither convict
nor exonerate anyone as in a criminal court, and it certainly could not
sentence anyone to punishment. In fact, the committee had not convicted
anyone. It had drawn conclusions and presented them to the government
to allow it to decide whether a special inquiry was needed to clarify the
question: who gave the order? The government accepted its opinion that
this was unnecessary.
On January 31, 1961, Ben-Gurion announced his resignation. The entire
government followed suit. It seemed that a major political crisis was about
to erupt. There was also the danger of a severe breach of faith with
Washington because of the revelations that Israel was constructing a nuclear
30 The Lavon Affair
facility in Dimona. Mapai’s elders had to appease Ben-Gurion at all costs to
prevent his abandoning the ship of state. On February 4, Mapai’s Central
Committee decided to dismiss Lavon from the office of Histadrut chief, as
Ben-Gurion’s lieutenants were demanding. The results of the Central
Committee’s vote were: 159 – for Lavon’s dismissal, 96 – against, and 5
abstentions. Ben-Gurion claimed with characteristic disingenuousness that he
had had nothing to do with Lavon’s sacking – Eshkol had initiated it. Years
later, in a letter to the editor of the Hebrew daily Yediot Ahronot, he wrote:

In the Yediot Ahronot issue of 5 January 1969, you [the editor]


published a letter that leads one to understand that Lavon’s dismissal
was the result of David Ben-Gurion’s directives. This is sheer fantasy.
As the editor of the paper in which the entire debate over Lavon’s
dismissal has been covered, you know that Mr. Levi Eshkol, then the
finance minister, demanded it. The whole thing was done without my
knowledge. I was not even present at the meeting in which Eshkol’s
demand was discussed.19

Despite the denials, Lavon’s dismissal was rightly associated with


Ben-Gurion and his supporters. It was hard to hide his supporters’ strong
interest in hamstringing Lavon’s political stature. Ben-Gurion even admitted
that he would like to see Lavon dismissed from his position as head of the
Histadrut. In a letter to Sharett on January 1961, he stressed his dis-
appointment that Lavon held such a senior position in the Israeli political
system. However, he also mentioned that he could not remove him from the
position, and that even if he had the means, he would not employ them.20
Therefore, although Ben-Gurion was not directly involved in getting rid
of Lavon, those who were must have assumed that he would be very pleased
if Lavon stepped down. Thus, Ben-Gurion’s repeated denials of involvement
in Lavon’s fall were understandably regarded with great skepticism.
Ben-Gurion’s frequent use of castigating terms for Lavon (“a man of
intrigue and fraud,” “a hypocrite and double dealer”) offered overwhelming
proof that Lavon’s dismissal suited Ben-Gurion’s wishes.21
Lavon’s dismissal came as a shock to the public and especially to Mapai.
He had been a key party figure for years and had filled several senior posi-
tions. In general, the sacking of a high-profile public figure was a rare
occurrence in the Israeli political system in this period. Mapai tended to
keep internal disputes locked behind closed doors. Lavon’s dismissal was
interpreted as Ben-Gurion’s attempt to alter the rules of the game by arbi-
trarily dictating his position to the party. It will be remembered that a few
years previous to this, he had forced another senior official – Foreign
Minister Moshe Sharett – to leave office. In that instance, a tremendous
effort had been taken to make it look as though Sharett had resigned of his
own free will, but the public was not to be hoodwinked. The widespread
feeling remained that Sharett had been dismissed from office.22
The Lavon Affair 31
National elections were held on August 15, 1961. This was the last time
that Ben-Gurion led the Mapai list. About one month prior to the elections,
Israel had launched a research missile christened “Shavit 2.” In a photo-op
Ben-Gurion and Shimon Peres stood by the launch pad. There was wide-
spread criticism in political circles over the missile’s launching. It was
claimed, probably with justification, that the launch had been timed as a
major military-technological media event in order to strengthen Mapai, and
especially Ben-Gurion’s position, at the polls.
Prior to the elections Lavon’s supporters in Mapai organized themselves
into an ideological bloc known as “Min Hayesod” (From the Basis). This
group called for a repeal of Lavon’s dismissal, an increase of the Histadrut’s
independence in order to strengthen the “Hevrat Ha’ovdim” (the umbrella
organization of all of the Histadrut’s cooperative and independent
economic enterprises), and greater democratization within Mapai. Min
Hayesod also demanded greater ideological-political pluralism in Mapai,
and the unification of workers parties while ensuring their autonomy. The
group advised its adherents to put a “blank vote” in the ballot box.23
Mapai lost five seats in the elections. It attained forty-two seats in con-
trast with its previous forty-seven. In the debate that followed, Ben-Gurion
tried to present the results as a great accomplishment considering the
vigorous opposition the party had to face:

From the party’s point of view, this is a great victory, after the vicious,
Lavon-abetted mud-slinging of the last ten months, the hate-filled
smear campaign of all the minor parties, and the press’s “contribution.”
[We managed] to retain the party’s central place [in the Knesset] and
almost the same number of representatives as two years ago – this is
indeed a stupendous victory. But in the interest of the state – the results
are a disaster. The small parties’ corruption, abuse, and power to
blackmail will grow. Collective responsibility will disappear . . . Stability
will be totally undermined.24

After Ben-Gurion’s resignation in June 1963, the continued handling of


the Lavon Affair became a major source of friction between Ben-Gurion
and Eshkol. Unlike Ben-Gurion, Eshkol preferred a moderate, compromising,
pragmatic approach to political issues, and would have liked to see the
affair buried as quickly as possible. Also, it seems that he attached less
importance to the Committee of the Seven and its findings than Ben-Gurion
did. The theoretical issues that the investigation raised, such as the division
of authority among government bodies, seem to have consumed
Ben-Gurion with a much greater intensity than they did Eshkol.
Eshkol undoubtedly felt that the interminable rehashing of the affair only
served to jeopardize his government’s stability. He was probably deeply
concerned that the investigation would set a precedent for exhuming other
relatively recent scandals and fiascos of the state that could cause immense
32 The Lavon Affair
embarrassment to the national leadership: “There will no longer be a
government,” he stated during a meeting of Mapai’s Central Committee on
December 13, 1964,

if I vote in favor of an inquiry into the Lavon Affair . . . We would be


opening a Pandora’s box of troubles. It will not end with this affair or
with this investigation. We’ll be spending the next fifteen years dealing
with investigations into various unsolved matters.25

On May 2, 1964, the pro-Lavon Min Hayesod group convened at


Kibbutz Hulda. One of the most prominent initiators of the meeting was
Prof. Nathan Rotenstreich from the Hebrew University in Jerusalem.
Academic circles and journalists were Lavon’s main supporters. They issued
an ultimatum to Eshkol: either reinstate Lavon or they would bolt from
Mapai. With pressure mounting from all directions to forestall a splitting of
the ranks in Mapai, Eshkol decided to retreat. He sent a letter to Min
Hayesod stating that from his point of view there was no longer any reason
to dismiss Lavon. Therefore Min Hayesod members could resume their
regular activity in the party.
Naturally Ben-Gurion reacted angrily when he heard of this letter (which
became known as the “Hulda Letter”). No one, he declared, including the
prime minister, could arbitrarily annul a decision ratified by an authorized
party body. Several months later Ben-Gurion would write in his diary: “The
Hulda Letter was an attempt to turn the party into a herd, [Levi Eshkol] had
no authority to cancel a Central Committee decision on a party matter.”26
Responding to Ben-Gurion’s demand for a judicial inquiry, Eshkol
claimed, inter alia, that Ben-Gurion had no moral right to discredit the
Committee of Seven and its conclusions. After all, he emphasized, the
commission was created while Ben-Gurion headed the government. True,
Ben-Gurion had reservations about the panel’s handling of the matter but
he finally accepted it. He resigned from office only after he saw the
committee’s conclusions. If he had stated his objection to the establishment
of the committee, then it never would have come into existence in the first
place. Eshkol circulated a letter among Mapai members, expanding on his
arguments against Ben-Gurion:

At the time, Ben-Gurion agreed to a judicial inquiry commission . . . and


he also made it clear that if the party and government decided to establish
a ministerial committee he would not oppose it nor do anything to
counter its formation. On October 30, 1960, during a government
session chaired by Ben-Gurion, a resolution was passed to establish a
ministerial committee. Ben-Gurion refrained from flooring a counter-
motion against the ministerial committee or for a judicial inquiry. He
abstained from voting in order to express his reservations about
[the committee] . . . [From the wording of the government resolution]
The Lavon Affair 33
Ben-Gurion should have known that the committee was authorized to
draw its conclusions on the affair. Despite this, Ben-Gurion did not
resign from government. If his objections were one of principle or
conscience then he should have resigned immediately, as soon as the
decision was made to establish the commission – not after it reached
conclusions not to his own liking. The committee would not have come
into being if Ben-Gurion had just hinted in the cabinet meeting that this
would precipitate his resignation.27

In the same letter, Eshkol recalled that on December 28, 1960 he had
written to Ben-Gurion that

The government decided contrary to your view [about setting up the


Committee of Seven], but you stated that if the party wanted to establish
a committee – as suggested by the justice minister – you would not
oppose it nor do anything to obstruct its establishment . . . Colleagues,
we must presume that if the Committee of Seven had not reached
conclusions [that Ben-Gurion disapproved of], then none of this whole
storm would have risen. At first Ben-Gurion could not resign himself to
the way the ministerial committee was dealing with the issue, nevertheless
he accepted it. [Later] he rejected its conclusions. Only then, after the
committee had drawn its conclusions, did he announce his resignation.
I fully believe that if he had stated, or just implied to the government
when the committee was formed that he would resign because of it,
then the committee would not have been established.28

Eshkol also described the practical obstacles that the judiciary commission
would have to face in trying to get to the truth of the affair. He reminded
those who were calling for a judicial inquiry commission that the Olshen-
Dori committee which had investigated the affair about six months after it
occurred, stated that it was a formidable task to discover who had given the
order so long after the event. Eshkol also pointed out that the decision to
carry out sabotage in Egypt was made in a meeting between Lavon and
Gibli, with no one else present; therefore one man’s word was as good as
the other’s. So what benefit could come of another inquest now?29
Eshkol completely rejected Ben-Gurion’s claim that his position on
reopening the investigation was solely a “matter of conscience.” According
to Eshkol, the Committee of Seven was a blue-ribbon panel made up of
seven senior distinguished ministers and headed by Pinchas Rosen, the jus-
tice minister. No one had any doubts over Rosen’s judicial experience,
sagacity, and personal integrity. He was also assisted by the attorney general.
The committee alone was responsible for its conclusions. There was
nothing sacrosanct about them, Eshkol stressed. Ben-Gurion had the right
to hold reservations about the conclusions but it was wrong for him to
claim that this was in any way a matter of “conscience.”30
34 The Lavon Affair
Eshkol further stated that Ben-Gurion’s motives for demanding a
renewed investigation were less than pure. After returning to government as
defense minister in early 1955, and later in July 1955 as prime minister until
his retirement in 1963, he had ample opportunity to get to the bottom of
the case. With his political and public status at its zenith he could have
passed any resolution that he wanted. If he did not do so then, then why
was he calling for a reinvestigation now? Eshkol was implying that
Ben-Gurion had ethically stumbled in mixing political considerations with
principles of state and national interests. While he led the country he
refrained from investigating the case lest he destabilize his government.
Now, with Eshkol at the helm he suddenly found the reopening of the
inquiry panel a pressing need of state.31
Eshkol pointed out that the judicial advisors who examined the material
that Ben-Gurion presented to the justice minister had stated that it shed no
new light on the case. Therefore there was no reason to assume that the
conclusions of a new inquiry would be different from those of the
Committee of Seven. Eshkol also asserted that investigation of the affair
was more than a judicial matter, as Ben-Gurion repeatedly claimed. It con-
tained negative public and political ramifications that had to be taken into
consideration. Governments rarely set up judicial inquiries to investigate
the malfeasance of a previous administration. In other words, a precedent
would be established that could hinder the activity of future governments.
Whatever the case, Eshkol believed that the renewal of the investigating
committee would hurt Israel politically and disrupt the realization of its
national, social, and economic efforts that demanded the unity of all the
forces in the country. Further investigation of the mishap would best be left
to the able hands of the historians; the voters had no interest in reopening
the wound and nothing of benefit would be gained by it.32
With his characteristic temper, Ben-Gurion scorned all of these
arguments. He reiterated that he had given his “silent agreement” to the
creation of the Committee of Seven based on the written commitment
he received from the chairman, Rosen. The letter stated that “The committee
would deal only with procedural conclusions and not ‘material’ ones.”
Despite this promise, Ben-Gurion recalled that he had sent Eshkol a letter
one week after the panel began its investigation in which he expressed his
reservations over the committee’s work.
Regarding the charge that he had had ample opportunity to reopen the
case yet had done nothing, Ben-Gurion argued that the only issue that
interested him was the conduct of the Committee of Seven – not what
happened in 1954:

The Lavon Affair was foreign to me until now, nor did it trouble me at
the end of February 1955 when I returned to office as defense
minister . . . I focused my attention on security matters and not on what
had happened in 1954.33
The Lavon Affair 35
Ben-Gurion also claimed that when he was prime minister in 1960 he had
not set up a judicial panel because

most of the ministers and cabinet members were opposed to such a


commission. The justice minister explained that only two ministers had
the authority to establish a judicial inquiry – the justice minister and the
minister of the interior. I was neither.34

It seems very unlikely that a politician as experienced as Ben-Gurion


believed that the public would swallow these arguments. Ben-Gurion was
far more adept at circumventing procedural obstacles than the ones in this
case. If he really wanted to set up an inquiry commission, then the question
of who had the authority to call for its establishment would not have
stopped him from bringing it to the government for a vote. It appears more
likely that he was fully aware of the dangers inherent in carrying out an
exhaustive investigation of so sensitive an issue. With his return to the
Defense Ministry in February 1955 and Prime Minister’s Office that
summer, Ben-Gurion undoubtedly preferred to bury the issue rather than
generate a political storm that could wrack the stability of his government.
Eshkol’s objection to Ben-Gurion’s demands escalated the already tense
relations between the two leaders. Ben-Gurion probably viewed the Lavon
Affair as a reflection of the political struggle being waged by the Mapai
leadership, together with Achdut Ha’avoda and Mapam, to oust him and
his protégés from the seats of power. In his unique style Ben-Gurion inflated
the conflict into a blistering personal feud with Prime Minister Eshkol. He
frequently denounced Eshkol’s character in public and warned of
“the moral destruction that he [Eshkol] and his supporters would bring
upon the land.” Ben-Gurion supplied the epitome of his antipathy toward
Eshkol and his premiership in September 1965:

I wish to confess one of the most serious mistakes I have made since the
founding of the state. When I retired from the government in June
1963, I recommended that Levi Eshkol replace me as prime minister. I
now realize that Mr. Eshkol lacks the necessary character traits for a
prime minister . . . The only great service he could do for the state would
be to relinquish his position as soon as possible.35
3 The Dimona and Ben-Barka
affairs

Introduction
At a certain point Ben-Gurion stoked the flames of his criticism of Eshkol,
charging him with responsibility for a “security bungle” that allegedly
endangered the survival of the state. Ben-Gurion adamantly refused to
disclose any details of the matter. He knew that the public and his oppo-
nents judged him as the country’s number one authority on security issues.
The secrecy that his accusation was couched in heightened the sense of its
veracity that the government was indeed leading the country to the brink.
All the while that Ben-Gurion was attacking Eshkol for his incompetence
he was also demanding the opportunity to appear before the Knesset’s
Foreign Affairs and Security Committee to present his claims. However, his
requests were turned down. Eshkol seems to have feared that the Old Man
might disclose top secret security information that would eventually be
leaked to the public. In a letter to committee chairman, David Hacohen
(MK), Ben-Gurion complained of the unjustifiable refusal to let him state
his case, while others, Lavon in particular, had been given the opportunity.
He argued the reason for this was the fear that his accusations would jeop-
ardize Eshkol’s status:

I do not understand why Lavon was allowed to appear several times


before the [Foreign Affairs and Security] Committee [although] he was
defense minister for only one year, and why I [who served over twelve
years in the post] was refused. You must have been eager to save
Eshkol’s honor . . . and you see no need to find out whether there was a
breach in security – in my opinion a most serious one.1

In early 1966 a senior figure in Rafi, Avraham Wolffensohn, published an


article in Mabat Chadash, Rafi’s weekly journal, in which he analyzed Ben-
Gurion’s accusations of Eshkol’s alleged responsibility for a security fiasco.
The article included an unprecedented appeal to former IDF chiefs of staff
to respond to Ben-Gurion’s charges. The article was directed to Ya’acov Dori,
Yigal Yadin, Mordechai Makleff, Moshe Dayan, Haim Laskov, and Zvi Tzur.
The Dimona and Ben-Barka affairs 37
The IDF’s first chief of staff, Ya’acov Dori, who was also a Rafi member,
sharply criticized the article and stated that the appeal to former comman-
ders would create an undesirable amalgam of military and political
considerations that ran counter to Rafi’s basic principles.
After the Six-Day War and the IDF’s dazzling victory, Ben-Gurion became
the target of heavy criticism. The army’s management of the war seemed to
have completely contradicted his charges against Eshkol’s “security incom-
petence” before the war. Even during the fighting, Eshkol made note of Ben-
Gurion’s unjustified accusations against him. In a speech to the Mapai
Secretariat on June 8, 1967, Eshkol tried to prove that even the initial
success of the war disproved Ben-Gurion’s incriminations:

War is an effort of years of [preparation], layer by layer, brick by brick.


We’ve gained experience over the past eighteen years [since the IDF’s
establishment]. An enormous amount of work has been carried out in
recent years. I always said that these matters [allocating resources for
state security] were difficult to evaluate. We didn’t know what Nasser
received daily or monthly, what would happen or when everything
would come together [become operational]. Even when things were
falling apart [in the Arab world] I would say: What would happen if
they [the Arabs] united? I believed that if [Nasser] attacked Israel, they
[the Arab states] would join the fray out of a sense of jihad [holy war]
and Arab national solidarity. One can say that we did everything that
could be done, everything the military experts thought was right [to
prepare for war]. I’m not an expert [in military affairs]. I served in the
army only twice, once as a lance-corporal and [once] as a corporal. I
was also a sergeant but was demoted in a trial. But I thought it was my
duty to ask questions, raise problems, and push for more and more.2

A few months after the war Yehuda Gotthalf, editor of the Hebrew daily,
Davar also broached this subject. As a staunch Eshkol supporter, he used
the war’s achievements in order to counter Ben-Gurion’s charges that
Eshkol and his government were responsible for a grave “security blunder”:

For a long time, [the alleged] security incompetence of the Eshkol gov-
ernment has been discussed in public forums in order to destabilize
Eshkol’s political position. Then came the Six-Day War and swept away
all the accusations by demonstrating the IDF’s superb readiness for the
defensive campaign.3

Such criticism must have stung Ben-Gurion to the heart. After the war he
was unjustifiably caught up in a vexing situation regarding the truth to his
claims of the government’s “security incompetence.” However, in reality,
his allegations had nothing to do with the IDF’s preparedness for a con-
ventional war like that of June 1967. This was obvious even to his critics
38 The Dimona and Ben-Barka affairs
who preferred to cynically exploit the mystery surrounding the term “security
incompetence” in order to muddle the issues. They realized that the general
public would have a hard time differentiating between the specific issues
that Ben-Gurion had alluded to and the events that occurred during the war.
The Old Man’s opponents presumed that the public would identify
Ben-Gurion’s criticism with a general lack of credibility in Eshkol’s secu-
rity leadership. They believed that once the public saw that the military
victory proved his criticism wrong, then Ben-Gurion’s status as “Mr Security”
would be undermined.
Of course, Ben-Gurion did not remain indifferent to such an attack on his
honesty and credibility. Responding to Gotthalf, he stated:

There are four inaccuracies in your short article: 1. My allegations


regarding security incompetence were never discussed publicly, and cer-
tainly never excessively. 2. The allegations were made by one person
alone [Ben-Gurion]. This person does not care if he is slandered or his
words distorted or refuted because of misunderstanding. 3. The Six-
Day War proved nothing about my accusations. Your arguments in this
respect stem from lack of information and another reason I prefer not
to go into but which I presume you are aware of. 4. I never claimed that
the IDF was not well prepared for the campaign.4

Fearing that his letter made only a slight impression on Gotthalf and other
opponents, he rushed off a second, stronger-worded letter to the editor:

Nothing was mentioned to the public [regarding my accusations against


his incompetence in security affairs] and I don’t believe your words
reflect the general impression in the public. The public is neither in your
hands nor Golda’s. Eshkol may think he represents not just the people
of Israel but the whole world, and all the generations going back to the
patriarchs. I still think that Levi Eshkol bears the enormous responsibil-
ity for the “security incompetence.” But the chairman of the Foreign
Affairs and Security Committee rejected the committee members’
demands to listen to the person who knows the details and perils of the
security bungle. Can you [honestly] say that the security botch won’t
lead to a terrible disaster? I know something about security, though per-
haps not as much as the chairman of the Foreign Affairs and Security
Committee, the editor of Davar, or Golda do.5

Developing the nuclear option


The central issue in Ben-Gurion’s charge of “security incompetence” was
Eshkol’s policy for developing Israel’s nuclear option. In late 1961, the
activity at the Dimona nuclear reactor was dramatically revealed. The timing
of the exposure, following the United States presidential elections, led some
The Dimona and Ben-Barka affairs 39
officials to suspect that Israel had initiated the publicity to take advantage
of the gap between the changing administrations. The publicity’s pur-
pose was to create a fait accompli before the newly elected Kennedy
Administration stepped into power.
In late May 1961, Prime Minister David Ben-Gurion arrived in the
United States and met President Kennedy. The main topic of their conver-
sation was Israel’s nuclear policy. Ben-Gurion pointed out that the Dimona
reactor was designed primarily for industrial and economic needs.
However, Israel would examine its nuclear policy with an eye to the devel-
opments taking place in Egypt and other Arab countries. Prior to the meet-
ing, two American scientists had visited the Dimona facility. They reported
no evidence that the reactor was intended for military purposes. Leaders of
the two countries agreed to annual visits at the site and for the findings to
be shown to the Egyptians.6
These understandings suited Israel’s needs, granting it wide room for its
nuclear activity. Washington was also pleased having made it clear that it
would not let Israel’s nuclear activity go unwatched. The new Kennedy
Administration must have preferred avoiding a confrontation with Israel at
this stage. Its attitude toward Israel’s nuclear activity stemmed from various
reasons. The main focus of American attention in this period was on Cuba
and Fidel Castro. Last but not least, the positive reports of the scientists
who visited the reactor undoubtedly influenced the administration’s
willingness to treat Ben-Gurion with kid gloves.
At some point however, a dramatic change took place in Washington’s
attitude toward Israel’s nuclear program. The American Administration
displayed a stronger determination to gain control over the Dimona reac-
tor. We believe that it was the outcome of two main developments: in the
first place, the administration had accumulated solid evidence that the
information that Israeli representatives, including Ben-Gurion, had pre-
sented on the reactor’s aims was not truthful. Washington apparently
received this evidence from senior French officials well acquainted with the
reactor. The American administration began to suspect that Israel had
concealed its true intentions from the American representatives who visited
the reactor.
At the same time a substantial change occurred in the balance of power
between Kennedy and Ben-Gurion. By late 1962, Kennedy’s international
status had significantly strengthened especially after his handling of the
Cuban missile crisis in October of that year. On the other hand, Ben-
Gurion’s political and public standing had weakened. Opposition to his
leadership had grown in the wake of his intensive involvement in a number
of serious political and security scandals such as the Lavon Affair and the
case of the German scientists in Egypt.
Therefore, a growing tendency developed in the American administration
to make a drastic change in its attitude toward Israel’s nuclear activity. In
practical terms this meant stronger demands from Israel for stricter,
40 The Dimona and Ben-Barka affairs
broader, and more frequent inspections at Dimona. Some administration
officials feared that without such supervision Israel would reach the point
of no return in its nuclear development.
In mid-1963 the Kennedy Administration’s pressure on Israel reached its
climax. Ben-Gurion was asked to approve a new method of inspection at
the reactor. Washington employed several unprecedented means to force
Ben-Gurion to accept its demands. For example, Kennedy made it clear that
Israel’s nuclear program was becoming an international menace and that
Israel must agree to more frequent inspections at the site. The administra-
tion used the “stick and carrot” method – heavy threats on the monitoring
issue, while offering a host of enticements designed to soften Israel’s
objections.
Almost single handedly Ben-Gurion withstood enormous pressure from
the Kennedy Administration. A number of cabinet members had expressed
grave reservations over Ben-Gurion’s nuclear project from the start.
However, they accepted its “continued existence” as long as there were no
serious external objections to it. But once Washington exerted its full weight
to neutralize the project, many people in the Israeli government began to see
the country’s grandiose nuclear program as a liability that was jeopardizing
Israel’s relations with its only ally in the international arena.
Other political figures totally disapproved the Dimona Project from the
outset. They felt it was superfluous and futile. Still others believed it would
actually endanger Israel’s security. The two leaders of the Achdut Ha’avoda
party, Yigal Allon and Israel Galili, were the program’s strongest oppo-
nents. They claimed that even if Israel succeeded in developing the nuclear
option, it would not remain the only party in the Middle East with a
nuclear option for long. Sooner or later, some of the Arab states would also
achieve nuclear capability with the help of the Soviet Union or other coun-
tries. The Middle East would become a nuclear zone and the threat to the
region’s inhabitants would steadily increase. Furthermore, Israel would be
unable to employ its nuclear ability since the geographical limitations of
the area meant that its own citizens would be victims of radioactive fallout.
Ben-Gurion rejected the Kennedy Administration’s demands on Israel’s
nuclear development. However, in order to avoid a confrontation with the
administration, he stated that Israel would agree to comprehensive limita-
tions on the region’s arms race (conventional and nonconventional
weapons) as part of a settlement with the Arab countries. The administra-
tion rejected this position, regarding it as a transparent attempt by Ben-
Gurion to stone-wall, enabling Israel to continue its nuclear development.
In the summer of 1963, Ben-Gurion found himself in a fragile minority
in his categorical support of the Dimona Project. Most of the country’s
leaders did not share his strategic concept that the nuclear option was
Israel’s ultimate guarantee of its survival. They rejected his view that it was
strategically necessary to pursue the nuclear option at any cost, even at the
risk of a major crisis with the United States. Under relentless pressure from
The Dimona and Ben-Barka affairs 41
Washington, the majority of Israel’s leaders felt that Ben-Gurion’s
adamancy was liable to cause a serious breach with the Kennedy
Administration and leave Israel isolated in the international arena.
A few months prior to his resignation, Ben-Gurion implicitly revealed to
the country’s newspaper editors that he was under tremendous strain
because of the lack of broad support for the Dimona Project. Referring to
the ways Nasser could be deterred, he stated,

I believe it is of vital importance to build up a deterrent force. If


[Nasser] knew that we had the power to defeat him, he would be
deterred [from attacking us]. This deterrent force would ensure, I can-
not say with complete certainty . . . that there will be no war against
us . . . I believe we can build up a deterrent force . . . However, I must
admit that with regard to this project [our leaders] lack sufficient
understanding. This is not a simple matter.7

Indeed, a clear majority in the Israeli leadership held a more lenient


attitude than Ben-Gurion’s toward Washington’s demands of the nuclear
option. For this reason, as well as other basic disputes and vendettas in the
national leadership, especially over the German scientists in Egypt and
German–Israeli relations in general, Ben-Gurion came to the realization
that he had to resign. It is still difficult for us to evaluate to what extent
the nuclear issue played a part in his decision, but most likely it was one of
the major contributing factors.
Shortly after Eshkol became prime minister and defense minister
the American administration renewed its pressure for inspections at the
Dimona reactor. On July 5, 1963, Kennedy sent a message to Eshkol recall-
ing Ben-Gurion’s commitment that the reactor would be used only for
peaceful purposes. The letter also referred to Ben-Gurion’s “willingness” to
agree to “periodic visits” to Dimona. Naturally this was an intentional dis-
tortion of the understandings that had been reached with Ben-Gurion
according to which “annual,” not “periodic,” visits would take place at the
reactor.8
The president also stressed the need to ensure that future visits would be
sufficiently thoroughgoing so as to remove any doubt over the real aims of
the reactor. In concrete terms, Kennedy suggested that representatives visit
the reactor that summer, with another visit planned for June 1964, followed
by regular semi annual visits. He made it clear that the visits would have to
include all the facilities at the reactor and that the monitors would be given
enough time to examine the site extensively.9
The president also noted in his message to Eshkol, as he had previously
done with Ben-Gurion, that Israel’s failure to respond positively to his
demands would seriously endanger America’s support of Israel: “This gov-
ernment’s commitment to and support of Israel,” he threatened, “could be
seriously jeopardized if it should be thought that we were unable to obtain
42 The Dimona and Ben-Barka affairs
reliable information on a subject as vital to peace as the question of Israel’s
effort in the nuclear field.”10
At the same time, the administration repeated to Israeli officials its
assessment that Israel’s nuclear option was not only a “regional” issue but
also one that had implications on the United States standing in the inter-
national arena, especially vis-à-vis the USSR. The administration stated
explicitly that Israel’s claim that it was singled out because of its nuclear
option (unlike other countries – first and foremost India) was not valid.11
Eshkol wanted to deal with the issue in his own way. His statements
suggest that he was aware of Israel’s overriding interest in the continued
development of the nuclear option. Nevertheless, he was not prepared to
completely forego a possible understanding with the United States that
would include Israeli concessions on nuclear development.
He obviously wanted to lower the tone with the United States and have
the discussions as low keyed as possible. He regretted that Kennedy had
made intimidating remarks in his July 5 message. Eshkol declared that
Israel is a small state with no malice toward its neighbors. Therefore, it was
unreasonable for the president to be so harsh toward it.12
In the meantime Eshkol strove to gain time, assuming with justification
that time was on Israel’s side. He made it clear to Kennedy that before
becoming prime minister he had known very little on that subject.
Therefore he had to study the issue in depth and consult with his colleagues
about further steps on this sensitive matter. Foreign Minister Eban
spoke with the American Ambassador to Israel in early July 1963, pointing
out that,

the new [Eshkol-led] government was only ten days old and had not had
time to review the matter extensively. Although the prime minister had
an overall picture, he would have to study the subject thoroughly in
order to reach a balanced decision, and this would take time. The admin-
istration should not expect a quick reply to [President Kennedy’s] letter.13

Eshkol’s attempt to buy time did not succeed at this stage. Washington
was fully aware that Eshkol would try to employ this banal tactic.
Therefore, it decided to stop him by exerting enormous pressure for an
answer to the president’s July 5 letter. Eshkol finally responded on August 19
reaffirming the nature and aims of the Dimona reactor that Ben-Gurion had
given Kennedy during their meeting on May 31, 1961. Eshkol also stated
that Israel was committed to using the reactor for peaceful purposes in
accordance with its agreement with the French government that had
assisted in its construction. Cognizant of the special intimate relationship
between Israel and the United States, Eshkol stressed Israel’s need to main-
tain close ties with the American Administration. Therefore, although the
reactor had been built with the help of a foreign [not American] agent,
Israel agreed to visits by United States scientists.
The Dimona and Ben-Barka affairs 43
Eshkol proposed that the next visit would take place in late 1963 when
the French were due to transfer the reactor’s operations to Israel. This
would also be before the reactor’s start-up stage. Eshkol emphasized that
his government did not consider itself obliged to comply with the presi-
dent’s demands for semiannual visits. However, at the same time he wanted
to avoid escalating tension with the administration that might have unpre-
dictable and unfavorable consequences for Israel. Thus, he chose a vague,
non-committal middle path. He simply expressed confidence that an under-
standing could be reached. As for Washington’s request that its representa-
tives be allowed into sensitive facilities at the site, Eshkol evaded a direct
answer.14
Kennedy replied that Eshkol’s letter was most welcome. He noted that he
understood Eshkol’s difficulty in formulating his answer. He also praised
the prime minister for consenting to “visits on a regular basis” since this
arrangement would contribute to strengthening Israel’s security in the long
run. He mentioned Eshkol’s approval of a visit by an administration repre-
sentative at the end of 1963 but requested that the visit take place “while
the core is being loaded.” Toward mid-October Washington began pressing
for a specific date for the inspection – either at the end of the year or at the
latest in early 1964.15
After Kennedy’s assassination on November 22, 1963, Eshkol received a
breathing space until the Johnson Administration formulated its position
on this issue. Soon Washington was back to demanding Israel’s agreement
to monitoring arrangements at the Dimona reactor and its approval to have
Egypt informed of its nuclear activity. But now, with Johnson in charge,
the White House was much more moderate on this sensitive subject
and willing to reach an understanding with Israel rather than dictate con-
ditions to it. Eshkol’s flexibility made things much easier for the American
Administration.
On February 20, 1964, Johnson sent a letter to Eshkol in which he
referred, in terms more moderate and less threatening than in the recent
past, to the nuclear reactor at Dimona. The president mentioned his will-
ingness to discuss Israel’s request for conventional arms, and expressed his
concern that Israel was contemplating steps that could heighten the Middle
East arms race without contributing to Israel’s security. Toward the close of
the letter, he noted that the Dimona reactor would be one of the issues on
the agenda during Eshkol’s coming visit to the United States so as to avoid
an unnecessary increase in Arab antagonism, with the resultant weakening
of the forces of moderation. Johnson’s message was a clear signal that the
new administration viewed Israel’s nuclear program a matter of consider-
able importance, but not of the highest national priority as was the case
with the Kennedy Administration.16
On March 3, 1964, Eshkol sent Johnson a memorandum, via the
American ambassador in Israel, mentioning, inter alia, the administration’s
request to assure President Nasser about the activity at the Dimona reactor.
44 The Dimona and Ben-Barka affairs
Washington claimed that Israel could attain nuclear capability on its own,
but Egypt needed foreign assistance. White House experts believed that if
Nasser were convinced that Israel was close to producing nuclear weapons,
he would resort to one of two moves:

1 A preemptive strike that would include the aerial bombing of the


Dimona reactor – probably at the outset of the war. Nasser might fig-
ure that such action would attain its objective even if it were only par-
tially successful from a military point of view. One, it would cause a
delay in Israel’s development of a nuclear option; and two, an open dis-
course on Israel’s nuclear activity would ensue, one that would greatly
increase the pressure for tighter inspection controls at the reactor. Both
results would serve Egypt’s interests.
2 Egypt might call on the Soviet Union or China to supply it with nuclear
arms. If Russia agreed, then most likely it would refuse to leave the
nuclear facilities under the exclusive control of Egypt. And if Soviet
forces were put in charge of nuclear weapons on Egyptian soil, Egypt’s
dependency on the USSR would dramatically increase, to the extent of
turning the Land of the Nile into a Soviet-satellite state.17

The Johnson Administration was of the opinion that both scenarios were
completely at odds with American and Israeli interests. Therefore, it was of
vital importance to Washington that Israel calm Nasser about the Dimona
reactor. Eshkol, however, made it clear that these considerations did not
convince him to change the position in his letter of August 19, 1963, to
President Kennedy – a position that reflected Ben-Gurion’s stand:

1 Israel would not lower Nasser’s fears of Israel’s military capability.


Nasser still harbors belligerent intentions toward Israel and expresses
them in public forums. It is vital to Israel’s deterrence that Egypt
remained uncertain about the Dimona project.
2 Nasser should not be informed of American–Israeli negotiations on this
issue. He cannot be trusted with this information. Should this informa-
tion be leaked there would be severe consequences – including Israel’s
ability to maintain an intimate and secret dialogue with the US
Administration on this sensitive issue.18

During Foreign Minister Golda Meir’s talks in Washington in March


1964, high-ranking American officials broached the subject of a tacit
understanding between Israel and the United States on Israel’s nuclear
development. During their conversation Secretary of State Dean Rusk
explained that in a written understanding all possible contingencies had to
be taken into account and there was a strong likelihood that the parties
would end up in a stalemate. But in an oral understanding each party could
agree to the mutual abstention of steps unacceptable to the other side. This
The Dimona and Ben-Barka affairs 45
course of action was based on the assumption that each side would refrain
from moves inimical to the interests of the other side. Rusk stressed
that such oral understandings existed between the United States and
Soviet Union.19
Again we witness a dramatic shift in the US attitude toward Israel’s
nuclear option – this time by a statesman who had been firmly opposed to
Israel’s nuclear position. His proposal implied a significant retreat in the
American position on Israel’s nuclear program – light years away from
Kennedy’s line of only one year ago.
During Johnson’s meetings with Eshkol in June 1964, the monitoring
issue was discussed. Although the president’s attitude was straightforward,
it lacked Kennedy’s resolve and menacing tone. Eshkol recalled that, “the
president raised the issue without particular firmness, more like one who
constantly hints that he considers the matter important and regards our
response as proof of our future intentions.” The documents corroborate
Eshkol’s impression that the president’s attitude was indeed moderate.20
During their first meeting, the Dimona issue was brought up almost
incidentally. Discussion focused mainly on the long-range missiles that
Israel was about to receive from France. Eshkol must have found the
emphasis on the missile issue very convenient. The United States, it should
be noted, had information on Egypt’s development of missile systems.
Therefore, it was easier for Eshkol to channel the discussion in the direction
of the UAR missile threat and evade as much as possible any substantial
debate on Dimona. It seems that President Johnson had already decided to
lower the profile on the Dimona project, and according to reports that
Israeli officials received, he informed his advisors that he intended to raise
the issue with Eshkol “in a reserved manner.”21
During the June 1, 1964 meeting with Eshkol, Johnson expressed his
understanding of Israel’s concern over Egypt’s missile program. But he also
emphasized that the missiles were still “primitive” and would not pose an
actual threat until 1970. Furthermore, Israel could be assured of American
support in case of an emergency. He also reminded Eshkol that the US gov-
ernment was violently opposed to nuclear proliferation. If Israel has no
intention of producing unconventional weapons, the President wondered,
why does it reject international inspections and refuse to let Washington
reassure Nasser that Israel was not going nuclear?22
At a loss for convincing replies to these questions, Eshkol presented a
survey of the Jewish people’s suffering throughout the ages. He must have
hoped this would express his deep concern for his country’s security, and
soften the president’s stand regarding Israel’s nuclear activity. He stressed
that Israel could not afford to lose its struggle with the Arab world, that this
might be its last chance in history to live as a sovereign nation. Israel
believed in the sincerity of the US intention to maintain Israel’s security but
he could not tell his people to put their trust solely on these assurances.
The UAR missiles might not be accurate, but to hit a city of a million
46 The Dimona and Ben-Barka affairs
inhabitants like Tel-Aviv precise missiles were not necessary. The average
Israeli asked whether his safety would be guaranteed in the coming years.
What would happen if one day President Nasser decided to attack Israel
against the advice and warning of both the Russians and Americans? Such
attacks would wreak untold havoc on Israel and, it was possible, that pre-
cisely at this time the United States would be deeply involved elsewhere and
be unable to provide immediate assistance.23
To sum up, Eshkol stated that if the UAR were to cease developing its
missile project, Israel would also give up its project. But at present, Egypt
has two hundred missiles and was constantly upgrading them. Israel would
not have any missiles for two more years. Regarding the Dimona Project,
Eshkol declared that he could not allow the American administration to
divulge to Nasser the true situation at the reactor. Nasser was an implaca-
ble enemy. For years he had actively built up Egypt’s nuclear capability.
Eshkol pointed out that Israel was not involved in nuclear arms production.
Therefore, any message that Nasser received that Israel was not currently
manufacturing nuclear weapons would only be counterproductive in deterring
Egypt from attacking Israel.24
On June 2, 1964, Eshkol met with Johnson for a second time. The private
conversation was later joined by the following advisors: Robert W. Komer
and Averill W. Harriman of the National Security Council, Deputy Defense
Minister Shimon Peres, the Israeli Ambassador to the United States,
Avraham Harman, the Director-General of the Foreign Ministry, Chaim
Yahil, the diplomat Mordechai Gazit, the Director-General of the Prime
Minister’s Office, Teddy Kollek, and the Prime Minister’s Military Advisor,
Mordechai Nisiyahu. It seems that the Dimona issue was brought up for
discussion, but only incidentally and without any threatening
undertones.25
After the private Eshkol–Johnson meeting, Komer asked the president
whether they had come to an arrangement regarding the administration
wish to pass on information to the UAR on Israel’s nuclear activity. Johnson
replied: “No, no agreement [was reached].” Johnson was then asked
whether they had reached an arrangement for an international inspection
at Dimona. His answer was again in the negative. Following the conversa-
tion, Komer told Ambassador Harman that the Israeli prime minister was
a better salesman than President Johnson, for Israel had managed to get
everything it asked for without giving up a thing. Komer also made clear
that the president had been requested to raise the Dimona issue with Eshkol
more forcefully, but to the undisguised chagrin of his advisors, he failed
to do so.26
Johnson’s decision to keep a low the profile on these issues and avoid
confrontation with Eshkol was also probably influenced by domestic con-
siderations. To recall: Johnson had not been voted into office but had
ascended to presidency following Kennedy’s assassination. Elections would
be held in November 1964, only a few months after his meeting with
The Dimona and Ben-Barka affairs 47
Eshkol. He must have hoped that Eshkol’s support would help him gain the
Jewish vote. While Eshkol was in Washington, Peres met with the presi-
dent’s advisor, Harriman, who made specific reference to these considera-
tions. According to Mordechai Gazit’s report, the following dialogue took
place:

Harriman: I’m a politician and you’re a politician. Let’s talk like


politicians . . . I want you to know that President Johnson is
interested in having Mr. Eshkol remain in office. We believe
that Mr. Eshkol is interested in remaining in office. We may
assume that Mr. Johnson will remain in office for another
eight years.
Peres: We may assume that Mr. Eshkol will remain in office for
another five years.
Harriman: You have nothing to worry about during this period. I’m not
saying that you have anything to worry about from another
president, but Mr. Johnson’s special attitude, like Kennedy’s,
is plain and clear. We have several years ahead of us to work
together.27

This promise notwithstanding, a few months after Eshkol’s visit to the


United States the administration renewed its pressure for inspections. Israel
was asked to provide solid proof that it did not intend to develop a nuclear
capability. In practical terms, some circles in the administration wanted the
visit to the reactor to stretch “over two Saturdays.” Eshkol replied that
Israel’s consent to the visit was “highly irregular” considering that the reac-
tor was built with French, not American, assistance. Furthermore,
Washington was not demanding the same criteria from India, which also
had an accelerated nuclear program. As for the length of the inspection,
Eshkol proposed that it begin on Friday afternoon (the beginning of the
Sabbath weekend) and continue through Saturday: “Diligent people,” he said,
“can get a lot done in one day.” He also wanted to signal to the adminis-
tration that his agreement to the arrangements for this visit to the reactor
would have domestic consequences in Israel that the administration should
take into account. Eshkol was implying that his submission to Washington
might be exploited by Ben-Gurion and his followers to assail the prime
minister and perhaps even destabilize his regime.28
In early 1965, Johnson’s special envoys, Averill Harriman and Robert
Komer, arrived in Israel. The nuclear issue featured prominently in their
meetings with Eshkol and other Israeli leaders. Already at the first meeting
the prime minister insisted that the subject be dropped. However, the
Americans refused and laid out Washington’s basic position: feeling was
strong that Israel was bent on attaining nuclear capability. Israel had to
convince the administration that this was not its intention. The president
was personally involved in the issue. The United States would have to
48 The Dimona and Ben-Barka affairs
receive assurances on this issue before deciding on arms sales to Israel.
Israel’s continued development of a nuclear option would lead to a serious
confrontation with the White House. The United States would employ all its
resources to thwart Israel’s nuclear program. Eshkol retorted that Israel had
solid information that Egypt was engaged in nuclear cooperation with India.
He reaffirmed Israel’s special situation of being surrounded by enemies that
repeatedly threatened to annihilate it. Therefore, Israel could not consider
disarming itself. Finally, after intensive deliberations Israel and the United
States reached an understanding with regard to Israel’s nuclear activity. This
understanding included a general commitment that Israel “will not to be the
first [state] to introduce nuclear weapons into the Arab–Israeli area.”29
Ben-Gurion and some of his supporters must have had misgivings over
Eshkol’s understandings with the Americans. His criticism of Eshkol’s pol-
icy precipitated a debate among Israel’s leaders that took place in near-total
secrecy. Both sides realized that a public debate could lead to the disclosure
of the state’s most sensitive secrets. However, given the uniquely intimate
conditions in which the Israeli political system operated, absolute secrecy,
even on as sensitive an issue as nuclear power, was extremely difficult to
maintain. The information that gradually leaked out shows that Ben-
Gurion and his circle accused Eshkol and his government of yielding
ground to the Americans by accepting many of their demands for the
inspection at Dimona – perhaps even to the extent of slowing down Israel’s
nuclear development.
On January 21, 1966, Ha’aretz published an article by Shimon Peres in
which the deputy defense minister opined that Israel had to arm itself with
an independent, nuclear-based deterrent option. The article was probably
written against Eshkol and his policy. Peres knew about the nuclear option’s
limitations, but he also noted the limitations of conventional weapons and
the limits of a superpower like the United States in guaranteeing the secu-
rity of other nations. Taking all the factors into consideration, Peres saw
that Israel had to attain nuclear option. His article also noted that the war
in Vietnam revealed three main American weaknesses: (a) Nuclear superi-
ority cannot be applied in a limited war, especially if other nuclear powers
are involved in the war. (b) A conventional army, no matter how large and
powerful, can not achieve a military or political victory in an ideological
war. (c) The length of the war and its heavy price fuel public pressure
against those who run the war. Therefore, even when public opinion is con-
vinced that the war is justifiable, it simultaneously harbors reservations
when sacrifices become great.30
Peres also pointed out that the Indo-Pakistan war exposed an additional
flaw in American political-security thinking. Pakistan and the United States
were partners in a military alliance. Nevertheless, Pakistan gained almost
no security benefits from the alliances if the enemy was not communist. In
the end Pakistan and India had to consent to the Soviet Union’s mediation.
The United States paid the price and the Soviet achieved a political victory.
The Dimona and Ben-Barka affairs 49
Peres also observed that Washington was very fearful of nuclear proliferation.
Its working assumption that it was leading the global monitoring of nuclear
weapons was incorrect – even if small nations yielded some of their sover-
eignty to the great powers. How could one oversee the international transfer
of nuclear material weighing only a few kilograms?31
Peres also perceived that the Americans realized that concentrating on
conventional weapons instead of nuclear ones did not satisfy countries –
such as India and Pakistan – already involved in the arms race. These short-
comings were a painful blow to the US policy of preventing nuclear prolif-
eration. The Vietnam War proved how difficult it was for a superpower to
make guarantees and uphold them under conditions of a limited war in a
distant land. America’s nuclear advantage in this situation is neutralized.
This means that a treaty with the United States is of significance only if the
enemy is a communist. These statements are of great importance in
American–Israeli relations. The United States remains a powerful ally of
Israel’s despite the disagreements between the two sides. However, Israel
has to take into account that American security guarantees are of limited
significance in the Middle East and cannot be relied on.32
Along with their criticism of Eshkol, Ben-Gurion and his supporters
claimed that the prime minister, unlike his predecessor, agreed to tighter and
more frequent inspections at Dimona by American officials. Eshkol was
also charged with having secretly consented to slowing down the pace of
nuclear development that Ben-Gurion had worked so hard to attain, and
put off the realization of the nuclear option to a later date. Moreover, Ben-
Gurion’s circle accused Eshkol of refusing the finances needed for the devel-
opment (apparently with French cooperation) of surface-to-surface missiles.
Thus, Eshkol’s Rafi opponents accused him of deviating from the practical
framework that Ben-Gurion had set up for this sensitive issue.
Ben-Gurion expressed his views on Israel’s nuclear option in an interview
published in Mabat Hadash. When asked if Israel should sign the nuclear
proliferation treaty, he replied:

I have not seen the proposed treaty. But, if it is a general criticism of


nuclear science – then it must not be signed. No one can claim to be
lord and master over us regarding the construction of atomic reactors
for peaceful purposes. If it is only a question of supervising the manu-
facture of nuclear weapons, then there is no reason to oppose it on
principle. But as long as there is no supervision of atomic reactors in
Russia, the United States, and England – then such a treaty should not
be signed.33

In the middle of March 1965, the American press published reports that
US representatives had visited the Dimona reactor. The administration
immediately denied being the source of the leak. However, the publicity
embarrassed Eshkol’s government because it corroborated Ben-Gurion’s
50 The Dimona and Ben-Barka affairs
grievous accusations of Eshkol’s “disastrous submission” on the nuclear
program. Many questions were asked in the Knesset about the serious blow
to Israel’s sovereignty caused by the United States. Official sources in Israel
replied that the press had referred to visits by American scientists in 1961 –
that is, when Ben-Gurion was the prime minister and defense minister. It
was claimed that the visits had entailed neither inspection nor supervision
of the site. Therefore no harm had been caused to Israel’s sovereignty.34
In August 1965, the White House repeated its demand for international
inspections at the Dimona reactor. An Israeli diplomat, Mordechai Gazit,
met with the president’s advisor, Robert Komer who bluntly repeated the
administration’s request for international inspection at Dimona. Komer
informed the Israeli diplomat that, “the Americans knew much more about
what was going on in Dimona than Harman and Gazit did.” He also men-
tioned that Eshkol’s last letter to the president on this matter had been “eva-
sive” and that “the Dimona issue could lead to a most serious confrontation
between the United States and Israel, just as France’s nuclear program had
caused a serious altercation between the United States and France.” Komer
warned that, “The United States would not wait until the last minute” (i.e.
until Israel was on the brink of producing nuclear weapons). It might act
unilaterally before that. The development of nuclear capability, he went on,
is a step-by-step process: “When you finish one stage, you are already com-
mitted to the next stage.” Therefore the United States would have to act at
a relatively early stage. Komer further pointed out that if Nasser’s suspi-
cions regarding Israel’s nuclear plans increased he would enter any form of
relationship with the Communist bloc in order to obtain a commensurate
nuclear capability.35
The Israeli diplomat, Evron, who was also present at the meeting,
explained that the prime minister was facing general elections in Israel and
could not assume a different position from the one he had already presented
to the president. The question of domestic political considerations within
the framework of American–Israeli talks on the inspection issue put the
Johnson Administration in a difficult position. On the one hand, the
absence of monitoring for a lengthy period would enable Israel to progress
in its nuclear development, creating facts on the ground that Washington
would have to accept. On the other hand, the harsh criticism of Eshkol by
Ben-Gurion and his entourage meant that increased American pressure on
Eshkol and his government could be exploited by the prime minister’s polit-
ical rivals to attack him and thus ruin his chances for reelection in
November 1965.36
It was finally decided that the US Ambassador to Israel, Walworth
Barbour, should decide whether to continue pressuring Eshkol to allow
American representatives into the Dimona reactor before the elections. A
memorandum addressed to Barbour revealed that the administration found
it difficult to accept the prime minister’s claim of political constraints as the
reason for his postponement of inspections. The memorandum stressed
The Dimona and Ben-Barka affairs 51
that if the ambassador decided to refrain from pressuring Eshkol he would
have to make it clear to him that the president was disappointed with the
prime minister’s stand. He would also have to inform Eshkol that immedi-
ately after the elections he (Eshkol) would be required to abide by his
commitment:

American interests on this issue go beyond domestic-Israeli political


considerations. The Administration will impose the same set of consid-
erations on any government in power in Israel. [Our] restraint in press-
ing for visits by administration representatives prior to the elections
stems from practical considerations and not from the assessment of a
significant difference between Ben-Gurion and Eshkol on the question
of nuclear proliferation. Eshkol should not assume that the administration
regards the rivalry in Mapai as a struggle between good and evil.37

During a meeting between the prime minister and Barbour in August 1965,
Eshkol was informed of the president’s disappointment with his position on
the issue. The matter was of such importance that the coming elections in
Israel could not be taken into account. Nevertheless, Barbour said, the White
House was not demanding an explicit Israeli commitment to accept the
American terms for inspections at the nuclear site, but only that Israel give its
promise that “the subject would receive immediate and most serious atten-
tion after the elections.” Eshkol replied that he could only reiterate that Israel
would not be the first state to introduce nuclear arms into the region.
Considering Israel’s unique security dilemma, he added, the administration
was unjustified in demanding that Israel be the first country to agree to inter-
national inspections at its nuclear installations. In fact, the White House
should have turned to Israel last. The ambassador expressed understanding
of Israel’s special circumstances, pointing out that the request had been made
because of the “close and friendly ties” between the two countries: “If you do
not [accept international monitoring], neither will the others,” he confided.38
Later in the conversation, Barbour asked whether there was a deterrent
factor other than the nuclear option capable of satisfying Israel’s needs.
Eshkol stated that a peace agreement with Egypt would solve Israel’s secu-
rity problem and suggested that Washington try to convince Nasser to take
peace-inducing steps. Aware of the slim prospects of such a development,
Barbour wondered how the United States could guarantee Israel’s security
until that time. With no adequate answer forthcoming, he proposed that
Israel reconsider the inspection issue until the elections. Eshkol answered,
“We’ll think it over.” When Barbour expressed his profound disappoint-
ment that the issue had not been resolved to the administration’s satisfaction,
Eshkol expressed his deep regret at being unable to satisfy the president’s
demands.39
Nine months later administration representatives again asked Eshkol to
set the dates for their visit to the reactor. Eshkol took advantage of
52 The Dimona and Ben-Barka affairs
American press reports of the visit to charge that Washington could not be
trusted to keep the matter secret. The ensuing discussions over a commit-
ment to secrecy caused further delays that served Israel’s purposes. Eshkol
also brought up other topics for discussion that were bound to cause fur-
ther delays. Would the visits be on a semiannual basis? How long would the
inspection tour last? Eshkol rejected the request that each visit last two
days. Barbour proposed that the visitors stay in Beer-Sheva on Friday night
so they could get to the reactor early on Saturday morning and remain there
as long as possible. Eshkol rejected the idea because of its adverse domestic
political ramifications.40
Eshkol’s maneuvering position vis-à-vis the United States improved
measurably in early April 1966 when Prof. Ernest David Bergmann, chair-
man of Israel’s Atomic Energy Commission and a Ben-Gurion confidant,
resigned. In a newspaper interview, he intimated that the reason for his
resignation was due mainly to disputes over “defense research.” Bergmann
emphasized the need to develop effective responses to threats against Israel
over the next 10–15 years. The disputes that Bergmann obliquely men-
tioned undoubtedly referred to Israel’s nuclear policy. He revealed that
when he tendered his resignation in June 1964, the prime minister had
requested that he withdraw it. Now, however, Eshkol seemed quite satisfied
with his resignation. This would seem to substantiate Eshkol’s claim that he
felt seriously threatened by Ben-Gurion.41
A few months before the outbreak of the Six-Day War, Barbour again
discussed Israel’s nuclear development with a senior Foreign Ministry offi-
cial. The administration had received information that Israel was consider-
ing opening the reactor to Israeli and foreign scientists in order to
encourage civilian-industrial research. The ambassador expressed satisfac-
tion with this turnabout, and added that the White House was eager to
obtain a clear picture of activity in the reactor. Every time the subject was
brought up, he said, the secretary of state started “climbing the walls.” He
again asked for the date of the next visit. The Israeli diplomat in turn asked
Barbour to stop pressuring Israel, especially since the prime minister had to
“take domestic political affairs into consideration” before deciding on so
sensitive an issue. He also rejected Barbour’s claim that Eshkol had
promised semiannual visits to the reactor and reiterated that Israel’s domes-
tic political front greatly troubled the prime minister: “We don’t want
a scandal in a Knesset committee or the press, and I presume that the
U.S. Government is not interested in one either.”42
In conclusion, based on available source material, it is hard to determine
whether Ben-Gurion’s charges of “security incompetence” regarding the
nuclear option were justified or not. It seems that Eshkol tended to employ
tactical flexibility on the issue. He may have agreed to certain American
demands that Ben-Gurion had rejected. His entire position and policy
must be looked at in the light of the range of internal and external con-
straints he was under. Eshkol appears to have stubbornly clung to the main
The Dimona and Ben-Barka affairs 53
objective: the continued development of the nuclear option. His path was
labyrinthine, evasive, and fitful, but taking into consideration all of the
external and internal pressures he had to face, we come to the conclusion
that he wielded his maneuvering position to the maximum.

The Ben-Barka Affair


The Ben-Barka Affair was a “security blunder” that, according to Ben-Gurion,
Eshkol was fully responsible for. This concerned the alleged assistance by
the Mossad (Israel’s intelligence agency), under the directorship of Meir
Amit, to the Moroccan secret service in assassinating Mehdi Ben-Barka, a
Moroccan opposition leader and revolutionary, on French soil. The affair
gained wide coverage in Israel especially because it exposed the deep ani-
mosity between the Mossad’s first director, Issar Harel, and his supporters,
and his replacement, Brigadier General Meir Amit and his entourage.43
Ben-Gurion soon realized that he could benefit from the affair by showing
Eshkol’s incompetence in handling the state’s secret services. Ben-Gurion
claimed that Eshkol had used poor judgment, if not reprehensible behavior,
in enlisting the Mossad in such a plot. Publicity of the affair would cause a
serious breach in relations between Israel and France (Israel’s chief arms
supplier). In Ben-Gurion’s view, despite American friendship for Israel, the
United States could not serve as a substitute for France. Several years after
the event, Ben-Gurion termed the decision to participate in the assassination
a “despicable crime.” In a letter to Golda Meir, he noted:

One issue that you knew about and I had no idea of was the
contemptible murder of Ben-Barka. This was perpetrated with the
assistance of representatives from Israel under the full responsibility of
Levi Eshkol who was prime minister and defense minister at the time.
Four Mapai members in good standing came to me about this shame-
ful deed and demanded Eshkol’s ouster. For quite some time I had no
inkling of the scandal even after Bool [a popular tabloid specializing in
scathing political exposés and ‘soft-porn’], the disgusting newspaper
that I’d never heard of before, published the incident. Of course, the
censors immediately confiscated the paper (this time with justification)
and indicted its editors. For some reason though, Eshkol felt it neces-
sary to send Ya’acov Herzog, the director-general of the Prime
Minister’s Office, to see me. [Herzog] read me Eshkol’s secret speech to
the newspaper editors following Bool’s disclosure of the incident. While
I listened to the speech, I wasn’t sure that everything Eshkol told them
was the truth. I told Ya’acov Herzog that Eshkol must be removed.44

Until the present day it is still unknown who leaked the information of
the Mossad’s involvement in the Ben-Barka assassination. Evidence seemed
to point to Harel who had been in charge of the Mossad from 1948 to
54 The Dimona and Ben-Barka affairs
April 1963. Upon his dismissal, after a dispute with Ben-Gurion over the
German Scientists Affair in Egypt, he became an intractable opponent of his
successor, Meir Amit. In September 1965, about a month before national
elections to the Sixth Knesset, Harel was appointed Eshkol’s “Chief
Advisor” – an office that had no precise areas of responsibility or authority.
All of his attempts to define his turf failed and he resigned in June 1966.
Soon after this he harshly criticized the prime minister and his work style.
He claimed that he found no common ground with the prime minister, and
felt a moral obligation to resign. It was believed that publicity over the affair
served Harel’s interest in undermining Amit’s public image and led to his dis-
missal. It was also intended to stain his superior – Prime Minister Eshkol.
Even while he criticized Eshkol’s role in the Ben-Barka Affair, Ben-Gurion
remained silent on what he considered the most important area of French–
Israel relations – the development of the nuclear option and the acquisition
of surface-to-surface missiles. He may have hoped that emphasizing
France’s special role, vis-à-vis the United States, in Israel’s security needs
was sufficient to clarify this issue. Ben-Gurion summarized his position by
stating that Eshkol had not only seriously bungled the Ben-Barka Affair, but
had also lied and failed to apologize to the French:

My main area of focus [on the affair] was its effect [on Israel’s security].
I didn’t deal with every [detail of the event] . . . We will have need of
France for a long time. [Although] we receive huge assistance from
America, which should not be disparaged, we will not receive real polit-
ical assistance or arms from [the Americans] . . . For the time being there
is only France . . . Therefore, if we impair [our relations with] France we
detract from [the vital interests of the state], and I said that Eshkol had
to resign [over] this issue. I think that Eshkol is a major security risk to
the state . . . Eshkol cannot be the defense minister. He’s a danger to the
country, and the Knesset and nation must be informed about this, and
he must go. In my opinion, things [this] must be clearly stated . . . I pre-
fer to do this in a closed meeting . . . I believe [the French] know about
the Ben-Barka Affair . . . Eshkol is unfit to be prime minister because he
is a liar, even though I know that it is not usual [to say this outright].
The matter is serious. How many mistakes can a small state [afford to]
make? France undoubtedly knows about the Ben-Barka Affair. So why
doesn’t the prime minister admit that a mistake was made. They [the
French] would understand such an acknowledgement. . .45
A few months later, Ben-Gurion again insinuated that the Ben-Barka Affair
was one of the reasons for the deterioration of French–Israeli relations, and
had caused a serious breach between the two states after the Six-Day War: “I
cannot say why relations between France and Israel turned sour,” he stated,
but one possible reason that I know of is something that I cannot
discuss [publicly] or write about. This is why four key members of
Mapai demanded that the party’s secretariat remove Eshkol from
The Dimona and Ben-Barka affairs 55
government. Of course, the secretariat refused. If one of the four
[Mapai MKs] wants to discuss this issue [publicly] it’s his privilege. [I
would not do this] I’ll tell you who they are: Santa Yoseftal, Mordechai
Nisiyahu, David Golomb and [Eliezer] Shoshani [each one a distinguished
member of Mapai].46

As Ben-Gurion realized that squabbling with Eshkol would not lead to


the latter’s removal, he amplified the tone of his rhetoric. In a letter to
David Golomb, who had investigated the case for Mapai, the Old Man
again employed scathing words to describe the affair and demanded that
Golomb do everything necessary to oust Eshkol from the dual role of prime
minister–defense minister.

I haven’t spoken [publicly] on the affair over which you once asked to
remove Eshkol from office . . . I don’t believe that Eshkol should be
allowed to continue in office in light of the state’s needs and
honor . . . I’m aware that the committee that Eshkol himself, if I’m not
mistaken, appointed found the prime minister responsible for every-
thing [related to the Ben-Barka Affair] and not the person [Meir Amit,
the head of the Mossad] on whom Eshkol tried to pin responsibility in
his secret speech to the newspaper editors. This is moral injustice as
well as a criminal act that has severely tarnished Israel in the interna-
tional arena . . . I am merely an ordinary citizen [like others] . . . who
learned of the crime [and] I believe that no citizen can allow himself just
to sit back until the culprit responsible for [this outrage] appears before
a commission of inquiry and is booted out of government.47

In retrospect, we cannot help questioning Ben-Gurion’s motives for his


excoriating attacks on Eshkol in the Ben-Barka Affair. In fact, we may
seriously doubt the Old Man’s claims that they were completely devoid of
personal and political intentions. We may also assume that Ben-Gurion had
experience in using Israel’s secret services for foreign intrigues such as the
Ben-Barka case. Therefore his biting invective against extending help to
Morocco’s secret services as moral negligence (as well as an operational
blunder) seems rather perplexing.
Ben-Gurion feared that Israel’s relations with France would be damaged
in the wake of the Ben-Barka Affair. France certainly protested Israel’s
involvement in the assassination. However, at the same time, contrary to
Ben-Gurion’s assessment, it manifestly avoided a full-blown crisis over the
affair. Therefore it is hard to accept that Ben-Gurion really believed that the
strained relations between the two countries after the Six-Day War were a
direct result of the Ben-Barka Affair. Generally speaking, Ben-Gurion’s
perception of the French–Israeli crisis appears highly exaggerated, and in
reality the crisis never materialized. Indeed, it appears that while Ben-
Gurion was still in office a basic change had developed in French–Israeli
relations due to President De Gaulle’s desire to terminate France’s rule over
56 The Dimona and Ben-Barka affairs
Algeria. At the same time, De Gaulle also wanted to rehabilitate his country’s
relations with the Arab world that had plummeted because of France’s
involvement in the Sinai Campaign. When Eshkol ascended to office, this
process intensified even more.
During Eshkol’s premiership, Israel sought to improve its relationship
(including defense ties) with the United States. This tendency naturally
loosened Israel’s excessive dependency on France. During a Mapai meeting,
Eshkol indirectly challenged Ben-Gurion’s concept of Israel’s reliance
on France. He pointed out that since becoming defense minister arms
procurement had been concentrated in the United States rather than France:

I’d like to particularly mention the ties we developed with the United
States three–four years ago when Golda Meir was foreign
minister . . . We were all satisfied, and still are, with our relations with
France. I’m ready to put my trust in Germany too. For some reason we
boycotted America. Although it was not an official or total ban . . . one
sensed that we had to keep out distance from the [Americans] lest they
present us with certain stipulations.48

It was Ben-Gurion who developed intimate ties with peripheral states,


such as Morocco, and was fully aware of their strategic importance for
Israel. He was certainly aware of Israel’s need to pacify Morocco in order
to “convince” it to maintain its strategic ties with the Zionist state. His dis-
dain of Israel’s benefits from its close and extended relations with Morocco
increases suspicions as to the real motives behind his denunciation of
Eshkol over this affair. Interestingly, one of Ben-Gurion’s closest associates,
Moshe Dayan, disagreed with the Old Man on the Ben-Barka issue. He
criticized Ben-Gurion’s stand in a circuitous way when he claimed:

I opposed [the proposal] that we should publicly announce Israel’s


involvement in this [matter]. Even if we had a majority in the Knesset
I wouldn’t have brought the issue up [for a public debate]. They [the
French] aren’t making an issue of it, and neither should we.49
4 The split with Mapai
The founding of Rafi

The politicization of the defense establishment


Another issue that deeply disturbed Ben-Gurion was Eshkol’s efforts to
harness the defense organizations to his own political ends. In early August
1965, two senior Defense Ministry officials, Al Schwimmer and Asher Ben-
Yosef, told Ben-Gurion that they had been summoned to Shaul Avigur’s
(a senior defense ministry official and supporter of Eshkol in his feud with
Ben-Gurion) home and that other ministry officials had received similar
invitations. Eshkol and his colleagues had called the meeting because of
their concern that the Defense Ministry staff was leaning toward Ben-Gurion
and Rafi. The aim of the meeting was to prevent the officials from completely
identifying with Ben-Gurion and his party.1
Yerucham Meshel, a Histadrut leader and Eshkol supporter, opened the
meeting with a blatant attempt to urge the participants to support Eshkol
in his struggle against Ben-Gurion: “We’re in the midst of a campaign to
retain the central power of the country,” he said. Meshel had no qualms
about attempting to enlist almost ten thousand defense workers to outright
political activity. He claimed that “[we] must overcome everything and
launch rallies and money collection drives.” He acknowledged that in the
past he too had supported Ben-Gurion and Peres, but circumstances
had changed and Ben-Gurion had taken a different path. The majority in
Mapai rejected Ben-Gurion’s way, so it appeared morally justifiable not to
support him. Then Eshkol stepped up to the podium and asked why some
of the top people in the defense establishment refused to join him. Ben-
Yosef said that he wanted his organization to remain neutral. He would
back neither side nor would he allow any form of political activity inside
the organization.2
Eshkol probably felt uneasy about combining security matters with
openly political ones. Therefore, he made sure to mention to the gathering
that he was speaking as a rank and file member of the Histadrut. It is
doubtful whether he thought that anyone believed this pretense. He tried
to justify the departure of Shimon Peres from the post of deputy defense
minister by alluding to certain mistakes that Peres had made but that he
58 Split with Mapai: founding of Rafi
(Eshkol) had kept from the public:

They [Ben-Gurion and his entourage] claim that I want to sell out [the]
Dimona [reactor by allowing tight American control over it]. Do I? Those
who developed Dimona said it was for the [good of the] economy, yet its
cost has skyrocketed.3

Eshkol ended his speech by predicting that Rafi would suffer miserably
in the coming elections.4
When Rafi activists met several months later, Ben-Gurion again took up
the cudgels against Eshkol for his efforts to recruit members of the defense
establishment to his political struggles:

The first time that an attempt was made to use security [issues] for
party interests it was done by the current defense minister [Levi Eshkol]
who is a wily fellow – I should have used another word [much more
severe] but better I should [only] say “wily” – and he invited, lured
someone into bringing in a Hagana figure with a good reputation, Shaul
Avigur. And Avigur invited [people] to his home. I’m referring to security
establishment [people], and a Histadrut representative [Yerucham
Meshel] came and explained why they must support [Mapai] in the
elections. Two [defense] establishment officials protested but the rest
applauded [and shouted] “Bravo.”5

Then Ben-Gurion continued, the defense minister got up to speak. He


was well aware of the odd situation before him, and took advantage of his
national position in an effort to improve his political standing. He told the
audience that he was talking to them not as the defense minister but as the
secretary of the Tel-Aviv Workers Council – a relatively low-ranking posi-
tion: “The unity and victory of the party,” he told his listeners, “are more
important than the prevention of disputes within the defense establish-
ment.” Such (a phenomenon), Ben-Gurion concluded, had never occurred
until this defense minister entered office. If this violation [of basic principles
in civil–military relations] continues, the army will be totally compromised.
To the point that when they receive an order not to their liking, they won’t
know if it’s an official order or a partisan command.6
At another Rafi meeting, Ben-Gurion repeated his tirade against what he
perceived as the exploitation of the state’s security networks for partisan
needs: “All the parties champion security . . . but in these elections some
unethical things have been done for the first time since the establishment of
the IDF.” He bitterly and cynically stated that,

In the past we lacked a defense minister as skilled [as Eshkol thinks he


is]. The first defense minister [i.e. Ben-Gurion] understood that the
army had to stay outside of party politics. The vast majority of our
Split with Mapai: founding of Rafi 59
people support this position. For this reason [their faith in army’s
commanders is very strong] and they agree to send their sons [to the
army] where many could be killed. And [if they are] killed it is not
because [they fought for] political parties but because they sacrificed
their lives for the state. Therefore, it is forbidden to involve politics in
[the military]. These norms have been in force for the last fifteen years
with a defense minister [i.e. Ben-Gurion] who understood . . . that the
army belongs to the entire nation, not to any political party.7

In a letter to Golda concerning Eshkol’s use of the army for political ends,
Ben-Gurion expressed his disappointment that a man like Shaul Avigur,
who was so conscious of state security, had been involved in Eshkol’s political
chicanery: “For the first time in the state’s history,” he stated,

an infraction was committed by the man who had the prime


responsibility to avoid such shenanigans. Eshkol did this in the election
[campaign] for the Sixth Knesset. Who aided him? The last man I
would have believed capable of taking part in such a caprice. Shaul
Avigur helped Eshkol by inviting all the security heads to his home.
Before the elections I refrained from publicizing the matter. But on the
evening before the elections, on November 1, 1965, I wrote a letter to
Shaul expressing my view that there has never been a filthier election
campaign than this one in the country. I also emphasized that whatever
the results, Israel is in grave moral [and political] danger . . . 8

A few months after the campaign Ben-Gurion wrote a much more


apologetic letter to Avigur. The latter justified his deeds by claiming that the
IDF was an organization basically similar to the Hagana, which had
responsibility for the security of the Yishuv, and was to a large extent
involved in party politics. Ben-Gurion accepted this explanation only
in part:

What you told me about the IDF being a continuation of the Hagana
has somewhat softened my surprise and chagrin at the step you took in
inviting to your place the heads of the defense organizations as Levi
Eshkol requested. [Although] such things occurred in the Hagana, I still
hope that you will not repeat this act. I find it hard to believe that you
do not see the danger in such a deed.9

Status of Jerusalem
Eshkol’s position on securing Jerusalem’s status in the international arena
was another issue that triggered Ben-Gurion’s anger in the pre-Six-Day War
period. He discussed this issue, unlike the Ben-Barka Affair, in open forums,
60 Split with Mapai: founding of Rafi
lambasting Eshkol for refusing to hold a military parade in Jerusalem on
Independence Day. He regarded this as submission to the dictates of inter-
national bodies that negated Israel’s sovereignty over Jerusalem. Such
deference, he warned, would jeopardize Israel’s status in Jerusalem and
encourage hostile international elements to exert heavy pressure on Israel in
other areas of vital importance.10
He repeatedly warned that if Israel failed to demonstrate a resolute stand
on Jerusalem, it would be too weak to stave off pressure in other areas. He
also claimed that Israel had a right to hold a military parade in Jerusalem
on Independence Day even if it did not comply with the Israeli–Jordanian
Armistice Agreement. Jordan had consistently violated this agreement by
refusing Israelis free access to holy sites and Mount Scopus, for example.
Jordan’s violation justified Israel’s choice of its own “retaliatory” measures
in the spirit of an “eye for an eye.”11
The government decided in 1965 that the Independence Day military
parade would be held in Tel-Aviv. Ben-Gurion responded by sending a per-
sonal letter to each minister in which he expressed his mortification that the
government was yielding to external pressures on so crucial an issue. He also
expressed surprise that Israel had accepted Washington’s decision to keep the
US Embassy in Tel-Aviv. The parade was held in Jerusalem on the eve of
the Six-Day War. But it did little to placate the Old Man who complained that
the government had decided on a watered-down version of a military
parade, that is, without heavy weapons. Therefore he shunned this parade too.
In 1966, Ben-Gurion announced that he would not attend the
Independence Day parade in Haifa or even a national ceremony in
Jerusalem on the evening of the holiday. He pushed through a resolution in
Rafi that all meetings of the party’s secretariat and political committee
would be conducted in Jerusalem. It is interesting to note that the mayor
of Jerusalem, Teddy Kollek, resigned from the Rafi secretariat when this
resolution was not observed.12

Mapai’s Tenth Convention


Mapai’s Tenth Convention was held in Tel-Aviv on February 16, 1965. The
main issue was the establishment of an alignment between Mapai and
Achdut Ha’avoda. In practical terms the convention had to decide whether
to continue supporting Ben-Gurion’s approach (opposition to the alignment)
or Eshkol’s (support of it). Following a raucous debate, the convention
finally agreed on the formation of the “Little Alignment” – a merging of
Mapai and Achdut Ha’avoda. This had been the proposal of Eshkol and his
supporters who received 60 percent of the votes against 40 percent for Ben-
Gurion and his followers. In addition, the convention rejected Ben-Gurion’s
demand that the government, under the Alignment’s leadership would
rescind the previous government’s affirmation of the Committee of Seven’s
recommendations and abstention from setting up a judicial inquiry.13
Split with Mapai: founding of Rafi 61
The resolutions ratified by the convention had far reaching implications
on the struggle between Ben-Gurion and Eshkol. This was the first time that
Eshkol had dared to defy Ben-Gurion openly and he did so before the
largest party forum. The resolutions that the convention passed clearly
indicated that Ben-Gurion and his followers no longer enjoyed the major-
ity’s support. The resolutions also provided Eshkol’s leadership with the
legitimacy that rested upon his own strength, free of Ben-Gurion’s patron-
age. These decisions also had political consequences. In the light of
Ben-Gurion’s repeated warning to the convention not to pass resolutions
opposed to his positions, it was obvious that a large number of party
members were prepared to take the risk in expediting Ben-Gurion and his
supporters’ decision to storm out of Mapai in protest.
Eshkol delivered an emotional speech at the convention. He emphasized
that he had not sought the premiership. It was, so to speak, imposed upon
him by the party. Even Ben-Gurion had recommended him as his replace-
ment. Then he appealed directly to Ben-Gurion with a plea to give him a
chance to lead the state as he saw fit: “Give me some credit,” he implored,
“at least for one term.” Sharett, whose illness was clearly visible, and Golda
both delivered fiery speeches. Ben-Gurion did not address the assembly.14
Eshkol’s speech was greeted with loud applause. Even those who considered
him below Ben-Gurion’s stature identified with his quandary because of
Ben-Gurion’s merciless vituperation. Despite the supportive atmosphere
toward Eshkol, Ben-Gurion remained adamant in his positions. He left no
room for compromise. The convention was thus compelled to come to a
decision. Eventually, it tended to favor Eshkol’s positions. In the wake of
the convention’s resolutions, the Old Man realized that the Eshkol-led party
wanted him and his entourage as far away as possible from the center of
influence. On June 29, 1965, he announced the establishment of a separate
faction – Rafi.15
In August 1965, Mapai’s High Court met to decide whether the Rafi
separatists were still welcome in the party. In the course of the trial harsh
words were flung at Ben-Gurion by people who had supported him for
years. It was obvious that old tensions and vendettas were being aired. The
verdict to expel the Old Man and his Rafi cohorts did not come as a
surprise, but an irreparable breach was created between Ben-Gurion and
the party’s leadership. In the middle of May 1965, Ben-Gurion expressed
his chagrin at the party changes after his departure, depicting reality in
black and white, idealizing the past, and lamenting the present:

There are the party and the state; and the state is the main thing. But a
democratic state cannot exist without a party [parties]. Mapai, as it
was, no longer exists, there’s only its name. My party was founded on
common principles, freedom of opinion, and comradely debates based
on mutual trust. All this has been destroyed . . . The last convention was
a disappointment. During the debate over my demand to examine
62 Split with Mapai: founding of Rafi
whether the Committee of Seven had defiled truth and justice, Eshkol
claimed I was opening a Pandora’s box. But if he’s worried about
opening a Pandora’s box then he’s not fit to stand at the helm of
the state.16

Characteristically, Ben-Gurion emphasized that he left Mapai because of


its moral decrepitude and the leadership’s aversion to act according to the
principles of justice. In his exhaustive recapitulations he tended to ignore
the political aspects that had led to his break with Mapai. Almost no men-
tion is made of the Mapai leadership’s internal struggle in the years before
Rafi’s split. The only issue of substance that Ben-Gurion perceived was the
ideological and moral aspect of the breach. A few months after the Six-Day
War, he was asked why he left Mapai. On this occasion too he spoke only
in ethical and ideological terms. He probably preferred this line of expla-
nation because it presented his squabble with Eshkol as emanating from
objective considerations rather than personal ones. Whether he really
believed his own rationalization remains a mystery. In his words:

I left Mapai, [the party] I had been a member of from the day it was
founded in 1930 until mid-1965 because I came to the conclusion that
its leadership was traversing truth, justice and democratic princi-
ples . . . For a long time I believed that this miscarriage of justice had
occurred innocuously . . . I had confidence in the members of the
Committee of Seven for I believed that what they did was due to erro-
neous judgment, and anybody can err. On December 13, 1964, when
Mapai’s Central Committee met to discuss the members’ demand to
select an inquiry panel, I was astounded to hear Eshkol’s admission that
he had acted with intentional deceit . . . and that the party elite knew of
this and accepted the Israeli prime minister’s denial of truth and justice.17

Many of Ben-Gurion’s loyalists had no other choice, in light of the Old


Man’s obstinacy, but to leave Mapai. The majority who left kept silent over
Ben-Gurion’s uncompromising move. They did not consider a reinvestiga-
tion of the “Affair” as a matter of principle worth descending into the polit-
ical desert for, even if the reopening of the case was totally justified from
judicial and administrative points of view. Some of the Old Man’s support-
ers correctly estimated that the majority of the public would fail to appre-
ciate Ben-Gurion’s abstract and abstruse claims, and even those who did
would probably get the wrong idea of the political wisdom involved in his
struggle for them. Many members of Rafi tended to feel that it was prefer-
able to contend with Eshkol and his supporters from within Mapai than
from outside the party.
However, Ben-Gurion’s authoritarian and unbending personality and
his extreme antipathy toward Eshkol left no room for compromise. Those
who had traveled the political road with him for years now had to make a
Split with Mapai: founding of Rafi 63
tough decision: either take the pragmatic path and remain in Mapai, thus
abandoning their moral support for the Old Man, or follow him into the
political wilderness, thus jeopardizing their own careers. Most of Ben-
Gurion’s so-called “men” chose, at this stage, the second path. The most
senior political figure on Ben-Gurion’s team, Shimon Peres, who was serving
as deputy defense minister at the time, announced his resignation in May
1965. Shortly afterwards he was elected secretary of the newly established
party – Rafi.18
Formally, Peres explained that he joined Ben-Gurion’s party because he
identified with its campaign to enforce law and order in public life. A few
months after the Six-Day War Peres recalled that,

When we left Mapai many people asked us whether it was because of our
moral commitment to Ben-Gurion? I would answer, and I believe quite
honestly, that I did not leave because of Ben-Gurion but because of those
who had thoughtlessly caused his departure from his mother party. This
is the truth. It was not [Ben-Gurion] who caused the split but Mapai’s
attitude toward his demand [for a judicial inquiry into the Lavon Affair].
There was nothing personal, material, authoritative, or political [in our
split from the party] but only a question of justice . . . Therefore I cate-
gorically reject all the other interpretations. There is no moral breach
whatsoever between us and Ben-Gurion.19

However, a different picture emerges from other sources. Peres, it seems,


did not wholeheartedly agree to the separation from Mapai that he and oth-
ers were subject to by Ben-Gurion. He had no illusions that public opinion
was less than supportive of the Old Man whose obsessive struggle to probe
the Lavon Affair was seen as a sordid attempt to destabilize Eshkol’s gov-
ernment. According to one source, Peres showed Ben-Gurion a survey that
a Ben-Gurion-led party would not win more than ten seats in the Knesset.
Peres tried to persuade him of the folly in bolting from Mapai. He claimed
that Ben-Gurion’s group would accrue more political power by partnership
with Mapai, but the Old Man was deaf to these arguments.20
When Peres finally decided to commit himself to Ben-Gurion’s new party
he must have done so with mixed feelings. Matti Golan, his biographer,
noted that,

Peres faced a terrible dilemma – perhaps the most difficult one in his
life. He did not believe in either the importance of the party’s platform
or its prospects to gain the public’s confidence. He was deeply insulted
by Ben-Gurion’s method of acting presumptuously and presenting a fait
accomplish that his supporters could not refuse. Furthermore, [unlike
Ben-Gurion] Peres held no personal grudge toward Eshkol and cer-
tainly did not share Ben-Gurion’s hatred of him. Yet, Ben-Gurion was
his leader and commander, so how could he abandon him at this time?21
64 Split with Mapai: founding of Rafi
Moshe Dayan too had serious doubts about the wisdom of leaving Mapai
over such a “flimsy” reason as the reinvestigation of the Lavon Affair.
Moreover, like others close to the Old Man, Dayan was offended that Ben-
Gurion had not informed him of his intention to resign in June 1963. Also,
Dayan was very annoyed that Ben-Gurion had not appointed him a senior
minister before leaving office. Therefore, Dayan felt no moral obligation to
follow the Old Man into the political desert. When Rafi first came into
being, he stood uncommitted. According to Yitzhak Navon, “In the days
prior to the founding of Rafi in 1965, Ben-Gurion called Dov Yosef and
Moshe Dayan to a meeting: ‘Tell me, are you joining my party or not?’ he
asked them. Dayan got up and said, ‘Ben-Gurion, you went to Sede-Boker
and appointed Eshkol [to replace you in 1963]. Tell me why?’ Ben-Gurion
stared at him, when suddenly Dayan beat his breast and screamed in a shrill
voice, ‘Let me tell you something Ben-Gurion, from this old goat, you’ll
squeeze no more milk.’ Ben-Gurion stood silent for a moment. He was
stunned.”22
However, Dayan was left with no choice but to join Rafi. He probably
figured that Eshkol’s supporters would identify him with Ben-Gurion
whether or not he formally joined the Old Man’s party. As election time
approached, Ben-Gurion began working the crowds with renewed energy.
He strove to regain the voters’ confidence in his positions. But the election
results were very disappointing for him and his followers. Rafi won only ten
seats – a dismal failure. The Alignment (Ma’arach), headed by Eshkol, came
out with forty-five seats. It was obvious that the voters supported Eshkol’s
case rather than Ben-Gurion’s. Rafi, whose members were considered polit-
ical activists and go-getters, was relegated to the opposition and removed
from the dynamics of daily affairs that had been their glory.
Following the elections, the gulf between Ben-Gurion and Eshkol
widened. Ben-Gurion’s tirades against Eshkol and his regime sounded more
like a personal vendetta. The Old Man found every opportunity to sully
Eshkol’s credibility and his management of political, defense, and economic
issues. On the other hand, following the election results, some of Ben-Gurion’s
supporters, including Peres and Dayan, reached the obvious conclusion that
a small isolated party like Rafi would put an end to their political aspira-
tions. Paradoxically, while they criticized Eshkol and his government they
sought an honorable way to return to Mapai and its leadership without
being accused of betraying Ben-Gurion.
5 The road to the Six-Day War

The nature of the Syrian threat


In the years preceding the Six-Day War, Syria adopted an extremely hostile
policy toward Israel. In December 1963, the Arab Chiefs of Staff Conference
convened in Cairo to discuss the Arabs’ response to Israel’s opening of
the National Water Carrier (or NWC, a pipeline for carrying water from
the Sea of Galilee to the Negev). During the conference the Syrian delegates
demanded a resolution calling for total war against Israel. However,
President Nasser opposed this position, claiming that the Arab states were
not prepared yet for such a commitment. As an alternative, he proposed an
Arab plan for diverting the sources of the Jordan River into Arab areas in
order to prevent the water from reaching Israel.
In January 1964, the Arab Summit meeting in Cairo ratified Nasser’s
water diversion proposal. At the end of the year the Syrians began a series
of operations designed to subvert Israel’s sovereignty in the area where the
source of the Dan River was located. On November 13, 1964, a major inci-
dent erupted during which the Syrians shelled the Israeli civilian settlements
of Kibbutz Dan and Sha’ar Yishuv. The Israeli air force was called in to
silence the artillery barrage and signal to the Syrians in the clearest of terms
that Israel was capable of neutralizing their topographical advantage. In
March, May, and August of 1965, IDF tanks and artillery severely damaged
Syrian mechanical equipment at the diversion sites.
In January 1966, the Palestinian “Fatah Organization” unleashed a violent
terrorist campaign against Israel. Terrorists planted an explosive charge in
the NWC’s canal near the Israeli Arab village of Ilabun in Galilee. Syria took
the Fatah Organization under its wing, adopted the strategy of “a people’s
war of liberation” against Israel, and continued its diversion of Jordan’s
sources.
In February 1966, Syria was rocked by revolution when the extremist
branch of the Ba’ath movement seized the government. The new regime was
eager to strengthen Syria’s ties with the Soviet Union and exacerbate hostilities
against Israel as part of the strategy of “popular guerrilla warfare.” In
April, Syrian-backed acts of sabotage emanating from Jordan increased.
66 The road to the Six-Day War
The IDF retaliated with a number of raids against Jordan – south of Hebron
and near the Sheikh Hussein Bridge opposite the Beit Shan Valley. In July,
Israeli planes struck at mechanical equipment inside Syrian territory. In
August a large-scale incident broke out after an Israeli coast guard vessel
ran aground on the eastern shore of the Sea of Galilee.
Israel assessed that the Syrians had a single game plan: the relentless
disruption of the existing order. According to the Syrian Ba’ath’s view, only
the total eradication of the status quo would allow a new and better world
order emerge. Consequently, Israel estimated that the Syrian regime would
pursue an inflexible belligerent policy. Such militancy, it was claimed, did
not stem from the bitter conflicts between the two countries – water
disputes and demilitarized zones – but from the essential nature of the
Syrian regime and its ideology.1
On November 1, 1966, a high-level Syrian delegation, headed by Prime
Minister Ibrahim Makhus and Chief of Staff Suawaydani, visited Egypt.
A few days later both countries signed a defense pact that included the
following items:

1 An armed attack against one party would be considered as aggression


against both parties.
2 A joint defense council would be established comprised of the foreign
ministers and war ministers of both countries. The council would convene
semiannually.
3 A military command comprised of the chiefs of staff of both countries
would be set up and meet on a quarterly basis.
4 In the event of a surprise attack on one state, both countries would
immediately decide on further steps in order to implement the plans of
the pact.
5 If war broke out, the Egyptian chief of staff would assume command of
both armies.
6 The treaty would be valid for five years, with the option for automatic
renewal for another five years.2

The Syrians considered the defense pact a strategic-political achievement.


It contained the Egyptians’ full recognition of the Ba’ath regime, and appar-
ently tacit support of its aggressive anti-Israel strategy as well. The pact had
further significance for Syria because of Egypt’s commitment to assist Syria in
case of an Israeli attack. Israel’s large-scale retaliation in Jordan in November
1966 (the Samu Raid) was seen as proof of the pact’s deterrent power. It was
claimed that Israel was fully aware that the hostile acts against it, though
emanating from Jordan, actually originated in Syria. Despite this Israel
refrained from attacking Syria, preferring to hit a country considered a close
ally of the West. The Syrians believed that the reason for this was Israel’s fear
of risking a war with Syria that would bring Egypt into the conflict.
Israel assessed that Syria’s violent conduct had created a tangible threat
to Israel’s vital interests and threatened the status quo in the Middle East
The road to the Six-Day War 67
following the 1956 Sinai Campaign. Several factors contributed to the
stability of the status quo, and Israel considered them to be of the highest
national interest.
First, after the Sinai Campaign the Arab world, especially Egypt, believed
that Israel held a military superiority, and that another armed confrontation
would culminate in an Arab defeat. Therefore, an Arab-initiated war was
out of the question in the near future at least. Furthermore, since the Arabs
estimated that even a low-intensity conflict might result in an all-out war,
they dramatically cut back on their hostilities against Israel.
Thus, the daily defense problems that had plagued Israel in the early
1950s were greatly reduced as the Egyptian border became almost com-
pletely quiet. Hostilities against Israel occurred primarily on the Syrian and
Jordanian borders. Although the frontier settlements were the main victims
of these incidents, the settlers’ preparedness was much higher than the
national average. In general, we may conclude that following the Sinai War,
Israel gained a period of relative tranquility that enabled it to funnel a large
portion of its resources to urgent socioeconomic problems that had been
neglected because of the exigency of external threats.
In the pre-Six-Day War period Nasser and other Egyptian leaders
expressed in public and private their opposition to war with Israel. Nasser
specifically stated that Egypt would not be dragged into a war until it was
ready. Senior Egyptian officials told the United States that Egypt had
informed Syria in the clearest of terms not to expect Egyptian assistance in
case of a flare-up with Israel resulting from Syrian provocation.
Egyptian statesmen referred to the need to “freeze the conflict.” Some even
went further and talked about some form of political arrangement with Israel.
Egypt’s objective situation – the greater part of its army was bogged down in
a civil war in Yemen, was well aware of Egypt’s military inferiority vis-à-vis
Israel and – strengthened the view in Israel that the Egyptian leadership
wanted the status quo to continue, at least for the foreseeable future.
Prior to the Six-Day War, the Egyptians embarked upon an audacious ini-
tiative. Field Marshal Amar, Egypt’s Vice President, invited the head of the
Mossad, Meir Amit, to visit Egypt and meet with senior Egyptian officials.
The agenda included a variety of Egyptian–Israeli issues:

1 The release of the “Affair” prisoners, held in Egypt since 1954.


2 The establishment of a hot-line between the two countries.
3 Discussion on how to avoid clashes over the Jordan River diversion.
4 The release of the Israeli spy, Mordechai Lotz.
5 The regulation of Israeli flights over the Straits of Tiran.
6 The termination or reduction of Israeli aid to royalist forces in Yemen.3

Israel’s reaction to the Egyptian initiative was cool and reserved. Its
suspicion of Egypt’s real motives and the possible effects of the visit on
Israel’s status were the main considerations that eventually torpedoed
Amit’s trip. The main opponent to the visit was the prime minister’s special
68 The road to the Six-Day War
advisor, Issar Harel, the former Mossad chief. Although Amit pleaded with
the prime minister and other national leaders to seize the opportunity for
direct, high-level negotiations with Egypt, his efforts encountered only
indifferent, lukewarm responses.
On November 27, 1966, Amit invited to his home a group of political
figures, leading journalists, and professors to review issues of mutual inter-
est to Egypt and Israel. The symposium was probably aimed at examining
various options that might induce Israel’s political leadership to agree to a
direct communications link between the two countries. The participants
included the Knesset Members Yizhar Harari, Ya’akov Riftin, and Natan
Peled; the journalists Shlomo Gross, Shmuel Shnitzer, and Ariel Ginai;
Professors Shmuel Eisenstadt and David Ayalon. Senior military officers
were also invited, mostly from the intelligence branch – Generals
Yehoshaphat Harkavi and Aharon Yariv and Colonels David Carmon and
Shlomo Gazit. The Foreign Office was represented by Mordechai Gazit.
Members of the Mossad who were present, in addition to Meir Amit, were
Major General Har-Even, Yitzhak Oron, Ephraim Halevi, and Menachem
Navot.4
This meeting, like others that may have taken place, failed to get the
nation’s leaders to approve the visit. Amit’s proposed trip to Egypt never
got off the ground. Egyptian–Israeli relations were left adrift among the
unanswered question: did Israel miss a historic opportunity at reaching an
understanding with the Nasserite regime? Still, from the outset things might
have gone awry. Or, Cairo’s initiative may have only been a ruse to lull the
Israeli leadership into a false sense of security prior to an Egyptian onslaught.
However, given all the reservations and misgivings, it still baffles the
imagination how the state’s leaders could have allowed themselves to
remain indifferent to the potentialities of the Egyptian initiative. For years
Israel had endeavored to build relations with the Arab world based on
direct contact without the negative interference of the Great Powers, yet it
let this opportunity glide by. Amit expressed his frustration in his diary:

I am extremely disappointed at the way decisions are made in Israel.


My main effort will be to convince our own people . . . that [the
Egyptian initiative] is the beginning of a historic process whose direc-
tion and form we can shape by our own conduct. Basically this is a cut
and dry case: for the last seventeen years we’ve been clamoring that we
want direct talks with the Arabs, and now that the chance has appeared
we start to hesitate, dawdle around, and analyze the minor details.5

Despite the cancellation of the visit, some of the country’s leaders


undoubtedly perceived the initiative as an Egyptian desire to enhance the
relatively peaceful status quo with Israel. The Egyptian gambit may have
been seen in the context of the “winds of peace” that were blowing in this
period. At the center of this phenomenon was the Soviet initiative to ease
The road to the Six-Day War 69
the tension between India and Pakistan. Soviet arbitration at Tashkent
kindled hopes for similar efforts in other tension-filled regions of the world,
including the Middle East. Other examples of easing tension were the sen-
sible declarations by Habib Bourghiba, the president of Tunisia, favoring
Arab–Israeli reconciliation.6
The Egyptian trend, however, was compromised by Syria’s hostile
policy toward Israel. Egypt, the professed leader of the Arab world, could
not stand aside while tension between Israel and Syria heightened. In
November 1966, Egypt and Syria signed a defense pact that obligated
both countries to hasten to each other’s aid in the event of an attack. The
pact added a far-reaching legal-political aspect to Egypt’s commitment to
Syria. It meant that each time a flare-up occurred on the Syrian border
Egypt’s integrity, credibility, and leadership in the Arab world was put to
the test.
Israel wished to preserve the status quo created after the Sinai Campaign
since the international arena increasingly recognized the 1949 armistice
lines as Israel’s “stable” borders (even if their “permanency” was still in
question). For all practical purposes, the international community aban-
doned the option of forcing a political settlement on Israel that would have
meant the surrender of large areas of land. This option had been very
tangible prior to the Sinai Campaign. Also, the international community
realized that the Palestinian refugee problem would be solved only through
negotiations and coordination with Israel – not by forcing a unilateral
settlement. Furthermore, it is important to note, the idea of investing
Jerusalem with an international status based on the UN Partition Plan
and other resolutions was practically dismissed. To recall, Israel’s leadership
had been overwrought by the threat of this option in the early 1950s.
Between the Sinai War and the Six-Day War Israel managed to “sheathe”
itself in an impressive array of security guarantees mainly from the
American administration. While they lacked a solid legal base, such as a
defense treaty, these guarantees nevertheless strengthened Israel’s status as a
close ally of the West, particularly of the United States. Of special impor-
tance was the fact that during this period France was secretly helping
Israel develop a nuclear option. No regional or international element
could disregard this status. In addition, Israel developed very close ties,
especially in defense and economic matters, with peripheral states such as
Iran, Morocco, Turkey, and Ethiopia, thus gaining far-reaching strategic
benefits.7
We see, then, how the post-Sinai Campaign status quo brought Israel
extremely important strategic assets. It also reflected the far-reaching
changes that Israel underwent after the campaign. Israel’s interest in main-
taining this status quo was obvious. Syria’s direct and indirect activity prior
to the Six-Day War was the only factor that tangibly threatened the status quo.
As Israel endeavored to counter Syrian attempts to upset the status quo, it
realized that formidable constraints and hurdles blocked its efforts.
70 The road to the Six-Day War
The Samu raid
King Hussein of Jordan was another example of a status quo regime. As
early as 1963 Hussein engaged in high-level contacts with Israel that laid
the foundation for important understandings between the two countries
and reinforced the status quo. Syria, with its militant policy in the interna-
tional arena, and toward Israel in particular, posed a serious threat to the
Jordanian regime. The Syrians also instigated propaganda and subversive
intrigues to undermine Jordan’s Hashemite dynasty. Syrian propaganda
accused the Jordanian royal house of betraying the Arab world’s interests
and cooperating with “imperialist” Western powers, even Israel, while Syria
provided the “spearhead” in the struggle against Zionism.8
Damascus also encouraged terror organizations to attack Israel from
Jordanian territory so that Jordan would be on the receiving end of Israel’s
severe punishment. Tensions rose between Syria and Jordan until the Six-Day
War. Following the April 7, 1967 incident, the Syrian chief of staff,
Suawaydani, publicly blamed Jordan for allowing the Israeli air force to use
its air space to engage Syrian planes without even warning Damascus about
the impending attack. Suawaydani stressed that if the Syrians had known
that the Israeli aircraft were coming from Jordan, the outcome of the dog-
fight would have been different. He also charged that while Jordan talked
about supporting Syria, it had concentrated its forces on the Syrian border,
thus limiting Syria’s freedom of action against Israel. It seemed certain that
Jordan would have looked favorably upon an Israeli attack against Syria.9
In this light, it should come as little surprise that the Western countries,
and the United States in particular, “graciously” absolved the pro-Western
Arab states of involvement in the sabotage operations emanating from their
territories. The Western Powers repeatedly demanded that Israel cease its
heavy-handed reprisals on them. They expected Israel to show considera-
tion for their interests in the region and spare its neighbors who were affil-
iated with the Western bloc. Washington’s reaction to the Samu raid
demonstrated Israel’s limitation in retaliating against pro-Western states in
the region.
The Israeli reprisal (codenamed Operation Shredder) took place on
November 13, 1966 in response to terrorist attacks originating in Jordan.
Two days earlier, an IDF command car went over a landmine in the south-
ern sector of the Hebron Mountains killing three soldiers and wounding
six. The security establishment, and especially the IDF, felt that the
Jordanian regime, led by King Hussein, had not been firm enough in erad-
icating, or at least significantly reducing terrorism even though the king had
repeatedly stated that these acts ran counter to his country’s interests.10
In response, Israel launched a daylight raid using infantry and armor. The
target was the Jordanian village of Samu, believed to have been the infil-
trators’ staging point. The chief of staff, Yitzhak Rabin, noted in his report
to the US military attaché in Israel that 428 raiders, 8 Centurion tanks, and
The road to the Six-Day War 71
approximately 50 halftracks had participated in the raid. It ended with
1 Israeli being killed and 11 wounded. Fifteen Jordanian soldiers and
4 civilians were dead, 17 wounded, and 16 houses destroyed. Israel’s official
communiqué stated the following:

The campaign was intended to bring home to the inhabitants in the


region their need to cease cooperating with, and extending aid and
encouragement to the saboteurs. The IDF’s mission had been carried
out in accordance with this limited objective and the troops had been
explicitly ordered to avoid unnecessary casualties. The soldiers were
careful about evacuating buildings before dynamiting them. They com-
pleted their mission and returned to the base. As events developed, the
raid escalated in scope for [reasons of] self-defense, and both sides
suffered casualties.11

The Samu raid caused serious repercussions in Jordan. Violent protests


broke out in the West Bank. The demonstrators demanded that the king
respond with vengeance to the Israeli raid. They also demanded arms for
self-defense. Jordan’s enemies, especially Egypt and Syria, exploited the
incident to denounce Hussein who, they charged, cooperated with the ene-
mies of the Arab world and was opposed to those forces in the Arab world
striving to strengthen Arab nationalism. Israel’s operation, they contended,
had proven beyond doubt the futility of Jordan’s policy of submission and
the regime’s impotence at protecting Palestinian nationals. In the aftermath
of the Samu raid, Hussein’s reign was in serious trouble. The king, it seems,
was convinced that the operation was only one step in Israel’s overall plan
to take control of areas in the West Bank.
The international community, and the United States in particular, also
criticized the raid. Washington claimed that the Israeli action was out of
proportion to the sabotage preceding it. The sabotage was basically a crim-
inal action that confronted every state, and the struggle against such acts is
waged by police forces. Therefore, Israel should also employ police mea-
sures rather than carry out heavy-handed military strikes. It was also
claimed that Israel had behaved ungratefully toward the US administration.
Although Israel received substantial aid in many fields it was acting,
nonetheless, in a manner detrimental to America’s most vital interests in the
region. Israel was fully aware that Jordan was a close ally of the West and
that the raid would cause the regime grave injury and undermine its stabil-
ity. Israel should have also known that the large-scale reprisal would hurt
America’s standing in Jordan. Furthermore, Israel reaped little benefit from
the raid since it weakened moderate circles in Jordan whom it was obvi-
ously in Israel’s interest to safeguard. Washington went on to charge that
Israel realized that Jordan was making great efforts in restraining hostile
forays across the border. This last raid only detracted from Jordan’s strug-
gle to contain these elements. If Israel felt it had to retaliate, why did it not
72 The road to the Six-Day War
do so against Syria where the real responsibility lay and where an anti-West
policy dominated?12
The White House’s anger heightened when it learned that shortly after
the mine exploded King Hussein sent a message to Israel, via the United
States ambassador in Amman, expressing his regret at the loss of lives and
announcing his intention to continue impeding the infiltrators. The message
reached the prime minister on November 13, 1966, at 9 a.m. just as the
Samu Operation was ending. The same day Eshkol sent the king a missive
that his message had arrived too late and that the operation had been
directed against a specific locale that had aided the saboteurs – not against
the king or his regime. Eshkol communicated his hope that the raid would
deter the locals from lending further assistance to the terrorists and that it
would advance the mutual interests of the two countries. The White
House refused to deliver the message to Hussein, claiming that the mes-
sage’s purpose to explain Israel’s retaliation policy was unacceptable to the
administration.13
All of Israel’s explanations – that the operation was not aimed against the
king but against the terrorist organizations – were received with skepticism
by American officials. They also refused “to buy” Israel’s claim that the raid
would eventually motivate the Hashemite regime to take stronger measures
against the terrorists, thereby strengthening the regime’s prestige and
stability. Johnson’s special assistant, Robert W. Komer, told the Israeli
ambassador to the United States, Avraham Harman, that the president was
“extremely upset” and demanded that Israel “lay off Jordan.” A State
Department memorandum reveals that the White House seriously considered
suspending, or detaining, the sale of military hardware in order to penalize
and deter Israel, and reassure King Hussein of America’s support.14
Hussein was critical not only of Israel but also of the United States. He
claimed that Washington had told him that the main danger to Jordan
would come from Syria – not Israel, but the Samu raid proved that Israel
was his main enemy. Hussein also expressed disappointment in the United
States for not preventing the Israeli incursion. He implied that Washington’s
status in the Arab world had been based mainly on its position as the only
great power capable of curbing Israel’s operations against the Arabs. Israel’s
use of American-made Patton tanks in the raid proved this assumption
wrong, and further angered Hussein. The king demanded immediate mili-
tary aid from the United States. He stated that this would prove that the
United States was a true ally of Jordan – not only in words but also in
deeds. Furthermore, the arms would enable him to convince his army that
a similar raid would not be repeated. He made it clear that he had other
sources for weapons, though he gave first priority to American arms. He
emphasized that if his demands were not met, he might lose the army’s
support and this could have devastating consequences on his regime.15
Johnson tried to calm the king. He sent a message stating that the admin-
istration would assist Jordan in this difficult period, and had informed
The road to the Six-Day War 73
Israel “in the strongest terms” that it objected to the Samu raid. The president
also admitted to Hussein that the American ambassador in Amman had
communicated to him the king’s concern that Israel might be planning to
occupy the West Bank. Johnson left no doubt that he appreciated the king’s
apprehension but added that Washington had good reason to believe that
this scenario would not materialize. Israel had been told in the clearest
terms possible that any attempt to implement this policy “would have the
gravest consequences.”16
In a conversation with the American ambassador, Hussein expressed his
satisfaction with the president’s letter and asked that his gratitude be con-
veyed to Johnson. Hussein must have been aware of the administration’s
concern over the precariousness of the Hashemite regime. Washington esti-
mated that Hussein’s downfall would generate ongoing instability in the
region and perhaps even lead to an Arab–Israeli confrontation that would
greatly jeopardize America’s national interests.17
In a meeting with the US military attaché in Israel, Chief of Staff Rabin
tried to temper American criticism. He presented the attaché with unpub-
lished details of the raid showing that Israel had had no intention of harm-
ing the Jordanian regime. He explained that Israel faced three alternatives
after the mining incident in the Arava:

1 Refrain from taking any action. This was ruled out because of the
heavy pressure on the government to respond.
2 Hit Syria. Rabin favored this option since Syria was the source of the
terror campaign, but in this case, the attack occurred so far from
the Syrian border that Syria could not be blamed.
3 Retaliation against Jordan (the preferred option).18

Rabin stressed that he had been completely in charge during all the stages
of the raid. The first armored force reached the target area at 5 a.m. and
waited for approximately half an hour in order to give the Jordanians
ample warning. He wanted them to realize that resistance against an
armored column would be futile. He also wanted to give the locals enough
time to clear out. Rabin claimed that no Mirage aircraft had been sent into
action but two Ouragan jets circled overhead for observation purposes. The
pilots were ordered to hold their fire so as not incur unnecessary loss of life.
The planes went into action only when Jordanian Hunter aircraft appeared.
Even then the Israeli jets did not attack ground targets. Rabin estimated
that most of the local inhabitants managed to escape. The entry of
Jordanian troops into the area was very surprising, Rabin added, because it
was hard to believe that “those idiots” would attempt to engage an
armored column. Rabin emphasized that he had instructed his men to cease
firing as otherwise the entire Jordanian force would have been wiped out.
He also claimed to have done everything in his power to reduce losses. The
aim was to finish the raid as quickly as possible and return home. There had
74 The road to the Six-Day War
been no intention to occupy parts of the West Bank and certainly not to
topple King Hussein’s regime. Rabin hoped that the king understood that.19
A second diplomatic channel was used to appease Washington’s anger.
The Israeli ambassador to Washington informed administration officials
that Israel was willing to consult with them on steps it might take to con-
tribute to Jordan’s stability. Israel revealed that it had already taken some
moves in this direction: it had cancelled its convoys to Mount Scopus
(a Jewish enclave in the Jordanian part of Jerusalem) during the demon-
strations in Jordan, and had reduced the number of trains running to
Jerusalem (that passed by West Bank Palestinian villages). Israel was also
prepared to agree to Jordan’s deployment of Patton tanks, preferably
unarmed, in the West Bank so that it could make a show of its might. Israel
would also allow American aircraft from the Sixth Fleet to cross its air
space at night and fly over potential Israeli targets in the West Bank –
Nablus, Jenin, and Tulkarm – to demonstrate the US support of the Hashemite
regime and also to serve as a deterrence to anti-Hashemite elements. Israel
agreed that the White House give Hussein the green light to transfer mili-
tary units into West Bank cities in order to quell the disturbances without
fear that Israel would exploit the situation.20
In conclusion, after the Samu Operation, Israel realized that its ability to
retaliate against pro-Western Arab states – such as Jordan and Lebanon –
was extremely limited, although such responses could force the Jordanians
to adopt more vigorous measures to oppress palestinian terror against Israel.
This was true even when their apathy in halting terrorist attacks emanating
from their territory was obvious. Naturally, Jordanian and Lebanese repre-
sentatives rejected this view. They repeated in Western capitals that the hos-
tilities against Israel were being carried out by “radical elements” in the
Arab world – a not too-disguised reference to Syria. They also stated that
although their security forces lacked the means to obstruct this activity, they
were doing their best to reduce it. In this light it was in Israel’s interest to
assist them in the struggle, and raids such as the Samu Operation only weak-
ened their ability to counter infiltration into Israel. The Western countries
generally accepted these claims.21
Under these circumstances Israel understood that Syria was the only
practical target for retaliation. Another factor that probably contributed to
Israel’s “decision” to strike at Syria was the impression that silence on Israel’s
part would have a damaging influence on the Arab states’ attitude – first and
foremost Egypt’s and Jordan’s – toward Israel. In other words, Israel esti-
mated that without a swift and determined reaction to Syrian hostility, pres-
sure would grow on other Arab states to increase border tension with Israel.
This could lead to a total upheaval in the Middle East’s status quo.

The American position


Following the Samu operation, Syria became the sole country Israel could
justifiably retaliate against without inviting a serious confrontation with the
The road to the Six-Day War 75
American-led Western Powers. Only in the Syrian theater could Israel
tangibly and resolutely exhibit its determination not to play by rules of the
game which were unacceptable to her. Only in the Syrian theater could Israel
demonstrate its unquestionable military superiority even if this required tak-
ing exceptional measures. Israel’s leaders believed that the demonstration of
Israeli air superiority against Syria would strengthen Israel’s deterrence in the
eyes of the Arabs and reduce the threat of an Egypt-initiated war. In the
wake of an Israeli–Syrian border incident involving Israeli jets in August
1966, Chief of staff Rabin stated:

The Syrians thought they could dictate the rules of border incidents to us.
They thought that if they employed guerrilla tactics we would respond in
kind. However, we made it clear that the choice of the reaction depend on
[our interests and goals] – not on the other side’s modus operandi. We
chose an unorthodox means in order to prove once and for all that we
view the Syrian provocations against us as a very serious matter. I advise
the other side to remember that it is Israel who determines the rules of the
game. Its policy is not to follow the other side’s dictates. The IDF has a
long arm and a diverse arsenal that it can employ against Syria . . . [Israeli]
authorities – not the [enemy] – will decide how to wield them.22

Soon after this, Rabin bluntly announced the nature and aims of Israel’s
action against Syria. In an interview in the army weekly, Bamachane, on
September 12, 1966, he broadly implied that Israel had to direct its military
activity against the Syrian regime, not against scattered military targets:

[Our] response to Syria’s acts – whether sabotage, water diversion, or


instigation along the border – must be aimed not only at those who
carry them out but at the regime that encourages them . . . [Our] aim
must be to change the regime’s decisions regarding Israel and eliminate
its motive for such acts . . . Our problem with Syria is that it is essen-
tially a confrontation with the regime. There are many similarities
between this situation and our relations with Egypt in 1955–1956,
although I don’t attach too much importance to historical comparisons.23

This announcement was severely criticized in public circles. Eshkol tried


to temper Rabin’s statements by explaining that the chief of staff did not
mean that Israel intended to bring about a regime change in Syria or intervene
in its internal affairs.24
Even though Rabin knew that his words had alarmed the political level,
he repeated his views during the “waiting period” just prior to the Six-Day
War. In a published interview on May 14, 1967, he said:

Today’s danger of war stems from the threat of escalation along the
Israeli–Syrian border due to Syria’s attempt to drag other countries into
a war they do not want. [Our] action in Syria is intended to alter the
76 The road to the Six-Day War
regime’s policy on terrorist operations. Israel’s standard policy against
such operations does not apply in the case of Syria because the regime
there actively supports the terrorists. Once the Syrians realize that
we know about their support of terrorism, and are determined to elim-
inate it by all means, it will be in their own interests to counteract [it].
[Our] methods of retaliation in Jordan and Lebanon were effective only
because the terror emanating from these countries occurred against
their will. The problem in Syria is different because the regime actively
encourages the terrorists.25

To sum up: the overall estimate in Israel’s defense establishment was that
Israel’s retaliation policy toward Syria should be designed to severely pun-
ish the regime in Damascus. This course alone might convince Syria to halt
its provocations against Israel, and topple the one party that persisted in
undermining regional stability. Israel also assumed that such an action, if
perpetrated quickly and decisively, would not bring the Egyptians into the
fray. Other countries, such as Jordan, Lebanon, Iran, and Saudi Arabia,
would probably show understanding, perhaps even satisfaction at a move
that ended the militant regime in Syria.
As for international reactions, it was presumed that the Western Powers,
first and foremost the United States, would look favorably upon an Israel-
initiated war against a state like Syria that was so closely aligned with the
Communist bloc, assuming that the strike would not precipitate direct
Soviet involvement. Naturally this depended on a swift and decisive mili-
tary engagement. The longer the campaign lasted, the more likely that the
Soviet Union would enter on Syria’s side. It should be recalled that in light
of the US involvement in Vietnam, it was in its strategic interest to avoid
Soviet intervention in the Middle East.
Available sources seem to indicate that in the pre-Six-Day War period, Israeli
political and military leaders sought an understanding, even if only a covert
one, with Washington regarding Israel’s need to carry out escalative reactions
against Syria. In a meeting between Rabin and the US ambassador to Israel in
early 1965, the Israeli chief of staff tried to clarify Syria’s relentless belligerency.
He based his argument not only on the regime’s support of terrorism against
Israel, but also on its diversion of the Jordan River’s water sources. From
Israel’s point of view such aggression gave Israel the right to respond fiercely.26
Rabin further illustrated his point by comparing Syria’s diversion operations
to Cuba’s Soviet-assisted provocations on the eve of the October 1962 missile
crisis. The main point in the Cuban case was not a direct attack on the
United States, but Soviet activity inside Cuba. Nevertheless, Washington
justifiably regarded this development as an act of aggression. Israel also had
the right to view certain measures undertaken by Syria as acts of aggression.
In mid-February 1967, the Israeli Foreign Ministry invited US Embassy
officials, along with Ambassador Barbour, for a tour of Israel’s northern
border. According to the report of the Israeli diplomat, Shlomo Argov, most
The road to the Six-Day War 77
of the area was recognizable to Barbour only “from written material.”
Now, for the first time he gained an eyewitness perception of the harsh real-
ity that Israel faced. At the end of the visit, the ambassador admitted that
many things looked “completely different” now. He also regretted not visiting
the region much earlier.27
In mid-March 1967, a group of State Department officials, led by Hal
Saunders and Lucius Battle visited Israel. They too were given a tour of the
northern border where they met with Chief of staff Rabin, the CO
(Commanding Officer) of the Northern Command, Maj. Gen. David
Elazar, and other high-ranking officers. Their report clearly testifies to the
way in which the IDF High Command viewed the policy that had to be
adopted toward Syria. The report also reveals that some of Israel’s decision
makers believed that the American administration in this period might not
be averse to an Israeli operation against Syria, and might even welcome it.28
Elazar told the visitors that the problem on the Northern border would be
solved only when the Syrians understood that their current policy was
putting them on a collision course with the IDF, and that Syria and the
regime would have to bear the consequences. Rabin and Head of Intelligence
(Maj. Gen. Aharon Yariv) presented a detailed survey of the Syrians’ concept
of a people’s war against Israel, and categorized the levels of Syrian respon-
sibility for such a war. At the end of the visit, the Israelis estimated, that US
officials came to realize that the solution to the problem, if it did not dimin-
ish or disappear due to other reasons at an earlier date, would only be found
by dealing directly with those responsible for [the people’s war]. Those pre-
sent at the meeting included Ambassadors Lucius Battle and Walworth
Barbour, neither of whom expressed any reservations over what they heard.
The subject was again brought up at a meeting with the prime minister.
Eshkol asked them to note that we were in no hurry for a military clash with
Syria. But, if there was no choice, then he requested in advance that they
understand our situation and temper. Again, no objections were expressed
even though the language was quite explicit . . . . In the course of the two-day
border tour the visitors heard estimates and undisguised mention of the
unavoidable necessity to move against Syria. Not once were any reservations
or protests raised against the idea.29
Indeed, after the visit, the American guests spoke in terms that left little
doubt about Washington’s attitude toward an Israeli attack against Syria.
One of the diplomats noted in markedly undiplomatic terms, “The Syrians
are sons-of-bitches. Why the hell didn’t you crack them over the head? It
would have been the most natural thing to do.” Hal Saunders also brought
up the subject of retaliation in the Samu context:

That action lacked any justification. Your problem is Syria, why did
you take it out on Jordan? We do not accept in any way, shape, or form
that you couldn’t have moved against Syria . . . when you knew that
Syria was responsible for the terrorist acts along your borders . . . 30
78 The road to the Six-Day War
Two months later, in early May 1967, another group of State Department
officials visited Israel and other countries in the region. The prominent figure
in this delegation was Roy Atherton who served for many years in senior
positions related to the Middle East and Israel in particular. The delegation
met with Foreign Ministry officials and high-ranking IDF officers. The offi-
cers explained that Syria was definitely in touch with reality, conducting a
policy of brinkmanship under the assumption that Israel would eventually
cave in. The Syrians had not been deterred by the blow they received on
April 7. The next day they opened fire on Israeli farmers near the border. A
few days later, Ambassador Barbour communicated the official American
position on the tension with Syria. The administration’s stand seemed very
moderate and void of any expressions of anger or threat toward Israel’s mil-
itary activity. Atherton made it clear that the United States was concerned
about the Israeli farmers working near the border. The White House was dis-
turbed by the potential escalation and its ramification for the entire region.
He asked Israel to cease cultivating the tracts near the border. This request,
he emphasized, had nothing to do with the issue itself and certainly did not
represent America’s consent of Syria’s behavior. The administration was only
asking for a “cooling-off period” in Israeli activity along the border.31
These reports seem to illustrate that in the months preceding the Six-Day
War, the Israeli defense establishment assessed that the American adminis-
tration, or at least highly influential circles in it, would not actively oppose
a belligerent step by Israel against Syria, even if publicly and officially they
expressed reservations over such a move. Such an assessment would
undoubtedly have been of great importance to Israel in planning its
responses to Syria, especially because of the fear of Soviet intervention that
was capable of neutralizing any military action against Syria.32
It appears that in the first months of 1967 the Israeli defense establishment
increasingly felt that circumstances might be created that would enable the
implementation and intensification of the escalation policy toward Syria.
Overt expression of this orientation came on April 7, 1967, when fire
erupted along almost the entire length of the frontier. Israeli planes went
into action and in the ensuing aerial combat six Syrian MIGs were shot
down. Israeli aircraft swooped low over Damascus and it appeared that a
full-blown war would break out, but at the last minute the Syrians lowered
their profile and averted war.
The culmination of the escalation policy toward a large-scale military
operation against Syria called for a far-reaching strategic decision at the
political level. But this decision was never made. The prime
minister–defense minister and probably the rest of the cabinet were fully
aware of the defense establishment’s attitude on Syria. But, it seems that
other weighty considerations, and perhaps Eshkol’s personality, precluded
a decision for such a bold and hazardous military venture. Would things
have developed differently had the “go ahead” been given? The answer lies
in the realm of conjecture and speculation.33
6 Criticism of the defense
policy

Ben-Gurion and Rafi’s criticism


Ben-Gurion’s obsessive absorption with his campaign against Eshkol and the
government diverted much of his attention from Israel’s security situation –
especially Jordanian–Israeli relations and the rising tension with Syria – in the
years before the Six-Day War. At this stage of his life his main focus of inter-
est seems to have been ensuring the moral image of Israel and its leadership.
Another reason why he reacted so mildly to the border incidents was
probably because he lacked solid information on their background and
causes. His situation after his resignation on June 16, 1963 was different
from what it had been after his resignation in late 1953 when he still
appeared to have a strong chance of returning to power. In the early 1950s
he was eagerly sought by people in key positions. Also, those closest to him,
Dayan and Peres, held senior posts in the defense establishment. Therefore
he was regularly updated on events and developments in the political and
defense spheres.
But in the summer of 1963, after resigning, his situation was very different.
Now Ben-Gurion was appreciably older. His age detracted from his image
as a national leader likely to return to power. Moreover, his resignation was
justifiably perceived as having been forced on him by his opponents. In
other words it appeared as an elegant form of dismissal. We may assume
that since the Old Man wished to get rid of his opponents, they would do
everything possible to make sure he never returned to power.
In addition, Ben-Gurion’s dogged campaign against Eshkol transformed the
Old Man into a “hostile factor” in the eyes of the majority of the country’s
leaders. The prime minister and his supporters understood that Ben-Gurion’s
aim went beyond the moral legal issues he harped on – it had to do with the
Old Man’s insatiable political appetite. In other words he was striving to
undermine the stability of Eshkol’s regime and replace it with a new leadership
comprised of his protégés, supporters, and perhaps even himself.
As the dispute between Ben-Gurion and Eshkol intensified, the rift
between them widened. Immediately after Ben-Gurion’s resignation, Eshkol
had regularly consulted him on sensitive political-security issues, but later
80 Criticism of the defense policy
a barrier appeared to surface between them. It was only natural that Eshkol
and his entourage cut the flow of information – especially on security issues –
to the Old Man and his circle. When Peres and Dayan left their posts to join
Rafi, Ben-Gurion’s information void became cavernous.
Against this background, the Old Man must have felt himself severed from
inside knowledge on political and security issues prior to the Six-Day War. He
thus realized that his ability to influence the chain of events was extremely
limited. Therefore he tended to withdraw from daily matters and concentrate
on the historical picture and future generations. But some security “incidents”
did grab his attention and compelled him to deal with them.
Ben-Gurion kept silent on the Samu Operation while it was in progress.
However, once the tension heightened between Israel and its neighbors and
Israel’s international status was sullied he began to criticize the raid. He argued
that it had severely shaken the position of King Hussein and his regime, a con-
sequence that ran counter to the interests of both the West and Israel. He also
blasted the operation for being directed against civilians, which stood in vio-
lation to the government’s resolution after the October 1953 Kibia Operation.
“Samu,” he stressed “was a political mistake. [Israel had] no interest in
undermining King Hussein. There was a general rule not to harm civilians.”1
Other members of Rafi joined Ben-Gurion in denouncing the operation,
though they did so in quieter tones. Dayan, the former chief of staff,
declared that “the Samu Operation was not directed against the right
target. It should have been implemented against the Syrians.” He also
expressed his reservations over the choice of a civilian target, though on
principle he “did not disapprove of retaliation against Jordan when the [ter-
rorists] attacked from Jordanian territory.” He concluded his speech with
an indirect criticism of Ben-Gurion. If he (Dayan) had been consulted he
would have opposed the operation, but once it had been launched and was
over, he would have seen no point in criticizing it publicly.2
Ben-Gurion’s political campaign against Eshkol and the government as
well as his concentrated critique of the strategic implications of the “security
bungle,” deflected his attention from the increasing border incidents along
the Syrian border in the mid-1960s. The large-scale incidents of January
1967 received no mention in his diary. Even the shooting incident of April 7
involving dozens of Israeli planes and the downing of six Syrian aircraft – an
incident that many observers consider a milestone on the road to the Six-Day
War – is omitted from his diary. The sole exception is a letter that he sent to
the commander of the air force, Maj. Gen. Mordechai Hod, on April 8,
expressing his pride at the impressive achievement.

Today was a great day for Israel when above Syrian territory the air
force displayed its outstanding skill, tenacity, and courage in shooting
down six MIGS without any hits to its own aircraft. I am sure that our
people throughout the world participate in the celebration of your
flying glory together with the entire country.3
Criticism of the defense policy 81
When this occurred in early April 1967, war was not imminent. A sense
of euphoria filled the air thanks to the air force’s incontestable superiority
and the heavy blow it had given the Syrians. But as the crisis continued, the
border incidents intensified, and Israel’s retaliations increased, it appeared
that events were leading inexorably to war. Ben-Gurion was very displeased
with the IDF’s modus operandi toward Syria – especially in the intensive
application of the air force.
Only in the middle of May 1967 – when Egypt began concentrating its
forces in the Sinai and the possibility of a military confrontation magnified
daily – was Ben-Gurion’s attention increasingly drawn to the growing ten-
sion between Israel and its neighbors. On May 13 Ben-Gurion and Rabin
had a meeting at the latter’s initiative. Rabin wanted that meeting because
he felt the need of Ben-Gurion’s support, but instead Rabin was taken
aback by Ben-Gurion’s biting criticism.4
Rabin told Ben-Gurion about the April 7 incident in which 80 planes had
carried out 130 sorties. Ben-Gurion left no account of the meeting. Their
next tête-à-tête seems to have been on May 21, 1967, according to
Ben-Gurion’s account. His notes on this meeting contrast sharply with the
previously mentioned letter to Maj. Gen. Hod on the day after the air bat-
tle. This time he expresses no enthusiasm for the IDF’s action against Syria.
The more that Israel’s retaliation policy became a central factor in the ominous
crisis brewing in the region, the more Ben-Gurion tended to emphasize the
shortcomings of the country’s defense policy toward Syria.
In the second conversation with Rabin, as it appears in Ben-Gurion’s
diary, he emphasized that his criticism of the defense policy was not directed
against the IDF’s “professional” level but against the political level that had
ordered the military into action. He wrote that, “our mobilization of
70,000 reservists [because of the Egyptian deployment in Sinai] was a polit-
ical and social mistake.” He did not explain the reasoning of this statement.
He probably felt that the huge call-up had come too late to defuse the
tension and would only serve to escalate the tension. Perhaps he perceived
the financial implications of an economic paralysis because of so large a
call-up. Nonetheless, Ben-Gurion continued to rail against what he termed
the “other mistakes” in the defense policy, but he did not define them in his
diary.
In his book, Service Record, Rabin recalls his conversation with
Ben-Gurion and the distinction the Old Man made between the responsi-
bilities of the political and military levels on the eve of the Six-Day War.
Ben-Gurion naturally blamed the political level – especially Eshkol – for the
mishandling of the defense policy. Independently, Ben-Gurion seems to have
realized that the Egyptians, headed by Nasser, had no interest at this point
in engaging in a military confrontation with Israel. Thus, Israel’s defense
policy was at least partially responsible for creating the crisis. He also pro-
fessed that Israel had failed to prepare itself adequately for the approaching
political crisis. By not coordinating its positions with the Western Powers
82 Criticism of the defense policy
it found itself in a grave security dilemma without the backing of the
international community.5
When the Old Man had been at the helm of state, Israel had endeavored
to avoid this unwelcome situation, but the present leadership fumbled the
task. “We’re in serious trouble,” Ben-Gurion said to Rabin. “Unlike in the
past, we’re now totally isolated.” Ben-Gurion contended that his criticism
was aimed mainly at the political level:

The army is doing a great job; the commanders are doing a great job
and you’re doing a great job. But nobody tells you what to do . . . The
prime minister and the government must take responsibility for decid-
ing whether Israel goes to war or not. It’s not the IDF’s decision . . . The
political level is not fulfilling its role. This is not how it is supposed to
function in this period of tension . . . [It has] brought the state to an
intolerable situation. It bears the responsibility.6

When Ben-Gurion finished his painful conversation with the chief of


staff, he tried “sugarcoating” the bitter pill he had just dispensed, and again
accused Eshkol – not Rabin – of making grave mistakes in managing the cri-
sis. He sympathized with Rabin’s position as a loyal officer that prevented
him “from telling me everything that weighs heavily on his heart. Being the
commander of the army, he has to carry out orders from a defense minister
whom he can not criticize.” It is doubtful, however, whether Ben-Gurion’s
attempt to separate the political and the military levels’ areas of responsi-
bility managed to calm Rabin at this critical hour: the question of “blame”
was probably irrelevant at this point. The burning issue, how to ensure
the security, and perhaps survival of the state, demanded concrete and
immediate answers.7
Furthermore, Rabin was naturally aware of the stormy relations between
Ben-Gurion and Eshkol. He must have reckoned that the Old Man’s criti-
cism of Eshkol stemmed mainly from personal motives rather than from an
objective view of the issues. In this light, Rabin probably attached very lit-
tle relevance to Ben-Gurion’s tirade. Rabin also knew that his own role in
shaping Israel’s general defense strategy, and the routine security policy in
particular, was far greater than what Ben-Gurion attributed to him. For this
reason too, he probably took Ben-Gurion’s diatribe with a grain of salt.
Although Ben-Gurion held no formal ministerial position, the general
public still accorded him high status and regarded him as a leading author-
ity on security matters. Little wonder then that his criticism of the country’s
defense policy, of which Rabin was one of the central formulators, left the
chief of staff in a rather depressed state. Indeed, Rabin’s breakdown during
the prewar waiting period reverberated throughout the country after the
war, and was attributed in part to this tormenting conversation.
During a Rafi meeting on May 21, 1967, Ben-Gurion expressed his
doubts about the strategy of toppling the Syrian regime. He must have
Criticism of the defense policy 83
known that the idea was mainly Rabin’s. But he appears to have preferred
to overlook the question of authorship of the policy. Instead he criticized
the policy itself under the assumption that so far-reaching a strategic decision
came within the exclusive jurisdiction of the political level.
He did not argue against the idea of using force to topple the Ba’ath
regime, but he felt that such an attempt under the present circumstances
would be folly. Even if the policy were implemented, no basic change would
occur because there was no certainty that the new regime would be differ-
ent from its predecessor. It might even turn out to be more militant: “There
is a danger,” he avowed, “that we’ll fail to destroy Syria’s regime . . . and
[even if we succeed we must take into consideration the possibility that]
figures far more militant will replace them.”8
Dayan reiterated Ben-Gurion’s words in blunter language. Unlike
Ben-Gurion, Dayan had no qualms about reproving the General Staff, and
its CO, Gen. Rabin. As an ex-chief of staff, Dayan was aware of Rabin’s
dominant role in formulating the nation’s defense policy. His basic criticism
referred to Israel’s defense policy of recent years. In this meeting, Ben-
Gurion refrained from going “all-out” in lambasting the defense policy. It
was enough that he listened to Dayan’s arguments and asked questions. He
may have preferred not to express his own critical view before a relatively
large audience, especially on matters related to the chief of staff whom he
had always held in high regard.
In contrast to Ben-Gurion, and despite his own bitter criticism of the
defense policy that led to a serious crisis on the eve of the Six-Day War,
Dayan gave unequivocal support of a military operation against Egypt.
During the previously mentioned Rafi meeting, he firmly opposed the mild,
wavering positions of Ben-Gurion and Peres. He expressed his view that
the Soviet Union was not behind Egypt’s military moves and would not
intervene in an Egyptian–Israeli military clash.
In sharp contrast to Ben-Gurion’s assessment – that Nasser wished to
enhance Egypt’s status by bold military-political moves, but did not want to
go to war – Dayan stated (May 21, 1967) that Egypt’s goals were much more
ambitious. Egypt intended to close the Straits of Tiran to Israeli navigation and
bomb the Dimona reactor. Israel’s strategic interest faced a palpable threat.
Dayan also asserted that Israel held an unquestionable military advantage over
Egypt so that there was no reason to fear an armed confrontation.9
This estimate stood in marked contrast to Ben-Gurion’s less than
sanguine evaluation of the IDF’s superiority – an Israeli military victory
would be achieved but at a terrible price. Dayan, however, was convinced
that if events deteriorated to a military confrontation “Nasser would be
drubbed.” He downplayed the danger of Egypt’s unconventional weapons
as well as the threat of an Egyptian air strike against the reactor. At the May
21 meeting, Dayan noted that the Israeli Air Force (IAF) had the power to
neutralize an Egyptian attack against the reactor: “As for the bombing of
Dimona, [keep in mind] not every bomb hits [the target], and we have an
84 Criticism of the defense policy
air force [too].” It is doubtful whether Ben-Gurion was calmed by such
flimsy arguments.10
After the war, Dayan outlined the security establishment’s shortcomings
prior to the outbreak of hostilities, focusing mainly on the faulty assessment
of Egypt’s intentions. The impression is that if the security establishment
had possessed a more accurate evaluation of the developments, the crisis
could have been avoided. Dayan began his analysis with a review of the
period prior to Egypt’s blockade of the Straits of Tiran:

Before the war we made several basic errors in evaluating the situation
and [our] policy. The first error was our assessment of Egypt’s reaction
to our operations against Syria. The combination of Syrian and
Jordanian appeals for help forced Egypt against a wall. Nasser had to
join the campaign, not because we were in conflict with Egypt but
because his position as the leader of the Arab world was being tested.
He had to prove his ability to defend Arab states threatened by Israel.
However, he would not have gone out on a limb if he did not believe
that he had the strength to confront Israel. He may also have believed
that Egypt could initiate hostilities and after a day or two the Russians
and Americans would call for a ceasefire, and in the meantime the
Straits of Tiran would remain blocked to Israeli shipping. In this way
he would gain a strategic victory without involvement in extensive
combat operations. When the concentration of Egyptian forces in Sinai
began, we didn’t understand what was going on and thought that it was
just saber-rattling. This detracted from our strength. You cannot say it’s
nothing one morning, and the next day [claim] it’s deadly serious. [We
also erred] for a long time in harboring the illusion and underestima-
tion of Nasser’s ability to remove all of the UN forces [from Sinai]. I
was the only one who said that he would oust the UN forces the
moment it suited him.11

In essence, Dayan’s position on events after the Egyptians’ blocked the


straits was the antithesis of Ben-Gurion’s. Dayan claimed that, “it was a
serious mistake after the straits were closed not to go immediately to war.”
He knew that Ben-Gurion did not share his opinion, but he emphasized that

closure of the straits was a flagrant casus belli. We allowed Nasser to


leave us blockaded. Only later did we launch the war. Forty-eight hours
after [Nasser] closed the straits, we could have gone to war; [instead]
we sat and waited. Then [Israel’s leaders] thought that the UN and the
Americans would reopen the straits. [They should have known] that
they [the UN and United States] were unable to open the straits to
Israeli navigation.12
Criticism of the defense policy 85
Another ex-chief of staff, Zvi Tzur, also criticized the security policy on
Syria, although in a milder tone:

Our response to Syrian activity was somewhat exaggerated, especially


the action on April 7 that included a hundred and thirty planes. Next
came an orgy [sic] of militant declarations that were extremely harmful
because the [Syrians] may have really thought [we] were about to
attack them. Furthermore, our [situation estimate] had been mistaken
for two years. We forgot about the Egyptians . . . [We thought that]
Egypt had slipped off the map and our retaliation [against Syria] came
as though the Egyptians did not exist.13

The caustic analyses by Dayan, Tzur, and other senior figures in Rafi of
Israel’s defense policy in the pre-Six-Day War period give rise to many ques-
tions. Statements by Rafi leaders, especially Dayan and Peres, in the period
before the war express a defense concept different from that of the waiting
period just prior to the outbreak of hostilities. Rafi’s policy toward the Arab
world was generally hard line and obstinate. The party’s leaders and weekly
magazine, Mabat Hadash, regularly criticized the Eshkol government’s pol-
icy of moderation toward the Arab world. Rafi’s arrows were aimed mainly
at Foreign Minister Abba Eban who strove to emphasize Israel’s “new” and
appeasing attitude toward the Arab states that contrasted sharply with Ben-
Gurion’s policy when the Old Man had been prime minister and defense
minister. The present prime minister–defense minister, Levi Eshkol, was also
on Rafi’s blacklist. When it seemed to them that a confrontation was
imminent, they tended to “forget” their earlier recommendations for an
“iron fist” policy.
In an article published in Israel’s English daily Jerusalem Post on January 29,
1965, Dayan reviewed his support of the “hard line” policy toward the
Arab states. He discussed Israel’s need to respond to the Arab threat to
divert the sources of the River Jordan:

If the Arab states carry out their threat to divert the Jordan’s sources, it
would be the first time since the Sinai Campaign that they took unilat-
eral steps designed to harm Israel’s interests. After 1956, infiltration
into Israel ceased from the Egyptian border, and from the Syrian,
Jordanian, and Lebanese borders. This was the result of IDF activity
that forced them to choose between continued infiltration and the con-
tinued stability of their regimes. [Israel’s] freedom of navigation
through the Straits of Tiran also resulted from Nasser’s fear of Israel’s
powerful retaliation in case free passage through the straits was inter-
rupted. Capitulation on our part would only lead to further [Arab]
hostilities that in turn would make [our job] far more difficult.14
86 Criticism of the defense policy
The secretary of Rafi, Shimon Peres, expressed similar opinions, but in a
more conciliatory manner. In an editorial in Mabat Hadash on January 25,
1967, entitled “Confronting Syria’s Rulers with an Israeli Option,” he stated,

The conflict between Syria and us is not over a particular border or


prerogative . . . The conduct of the present Syrian government is the
result of a view that exploits the conflict in the demilitarized zones in
order to assume the position of vanguard of the new Arab revolution.
It is doubtful whether any political move by us will change Syria’s atti-
tude . . . The latest air action has created a situation whereby the Syrians
do not dare to shell [our] settlements. Another move [on our part] will
probably convince them not to plant landmines.15

Ben-Gurion’s positions on the routine defense policy in this period are a


bit muddled. As noted, he rarely discussed the subject during these years.
When in office he had stubbornly avoided the “regular” use of the air force
on security missions. He determined that whenever the operational need for
an air strike arose, it would be carried out only with the approval of the
defense minister. But a change in this policy occurred approximately one
year before Ben-Gurion’s final resignation. It came about against the back-
drop of the rising tension on the Syrian border and the heavy shelling of
Israeli settlements. On March 20, 1962, the cabinet discussed the use of the
air force on routine defense missions. The debate revolved around the ques-
tion of whether the air force alone was capable of silencing the heavy Syrian
shelling. At a General Staff meeting on March 21, 1962, the chief of staff
summed up the government decision: “The basic approval was given to
employ the air force in the event of artillery fire on [civilian] settlements.
The method [of operations] is our decision.”16

Mapam’s criticism
Mapam was the only Zionist party that occasionally criticized the IDF’s
Syrian policy. It made its voice particularly heard in the year that preceded
the Six-Day War, and especially in the months when the IDF appeared to
adopt a policy of intentional escalation that was leading to a full-blown
Arab–Israeli clash. However, at the same time Mapam’s criticism was gen-
erally low keyed and in complete sympathy with the border settlements that
were the main victims of the Syrian shelling. The Syrian regime nearly
always figured as the main culprit for the border tension. In media com-
mentary on the incidents, Israel’s rights in the demilitarized zones were
always emphasized. For example, the armistice agreement with Syria made
no reference to Syria’s right to cultivate the land or fish in these areas, even
though Syria had demanded that such a reference be included in the agree-
ment. Mapam’s commentators also noted the Ba’ath regime’s need to heat
up the border for domestic reasons – such as diverting the population’s
Criticism of the defense policy 87
attention from the country’s severe economic situation, garnering support
for the regime against its political opponents, and advancing Syria’s hard-line
position in the Arab world.
Some of the articles by people affiliated with Mapam expressed tacit
reserve over the claim that Syria was planning a war with Israel. They
implied, in effect, that accusing Syria of warmongering served the aims of
certain factions in Israeli political and military leadership circles.
Occasionally the idea was expressed that although the Syrians wanted to
prolong the dispute with Israel, they had no real interest in embarking upon
an all-out military confrontation. They preferred to keep the conflict on a
low flame, in the belief that it was highly unlikely that sporadic border
incidents would justify Israel’s launching a full-scale war.
Israel, for its part, had to limit its responses lest its escalation erupt into
an all-out confrontation. “The assumption that the Syrians want to drag
Israel into a war is hard to accept,” Eliezer Reiner, a journalist for the
Mapam organ, Al Hamishmar, wrote:

This assumption attributes an exaggerated degree of stupidity to the


Syrian leadership . . . The exchange of fire in the contested areas, harass-
ment in the demilitarized zones, the landmines, and sabotage – no matter
how serious they are – are not intended to throw Israel off balance or
force it to mobilize the IDF in a massive operation. An imminent war is
not expected in the near future.17

Mapam’s leadership was extremely apprehensive that the government’s


Syrian policy would eventually lead Israel to launching a preventive war –
the last thing that the left-wing party wanted. In March 1965, Meir Ya’ari,
Mapam’s leader, stated that,

Regarding the Israeli–Syrian dispute over the diversion of water sources,


the situation in the country is reminiscent recalls of the atmosphere prior
to the Sinai Campaign. At the time we were misled – there was talk about
a campaign in Jordan while it was clear to [the national leadership] that
the campaign would be in Sinai. At the time we were able to count on
Britain and France to join in the war against Egypt. Today the situation
is far more dangerous. We cannot initiate a war over the water issue.
[Averell] Harriman [Johnson’s special envoy] has warned us about this.
We cannot expect any assistance in this respect and we cannot stray from
any measures beyond that of a political war . . . Any war that we initiate
across our borders will be seen as an unjustified preventive war . . . Eshkol
is under pressure [to launch a preventive war] by the same forces that
talk about giving the army a free hand in dealing with Syria.18

Mapam declared that it was far from being a party of pacifists. Mapam’s
leaders supported Israel’s development of a deterrent force. They were of
88 Criticism of the defense policy
the opinion that the Arab leaders should be informed that this force would
be applied if necessary. The party’s leadership explained that it did not
reject the use of military force in principle, but that it should be applied
only as part of a comprehensive political campaign and not as an exclusive
means. Moreover, Israel’s leaders had to assume that the military option is
“the last resort” and would be used only after it was absolutely certain that
all other means to lower the tension with Syria had been expended. Ya’acov
Hazan, another Mapam leader, discussed the security situation in late 1966:
“We thought that it was first necessary to exploit all political means [avail-
able] . . . If [Syria’s provocations] persist then we’ll be facing a most serious
situation, and it might be necessary to employ military means.”19
Mapam leaders also stressed that even when military force is unavoidable,
it had to be wielded wisely and level-headedly, without vengeance or rage.
In the Knesset Hazan said:

We are involved in a web of intrigues. Our enemies probably have no


control over their actions and are not proceeding according to a calcu-
lated plan. We cannot act in similar fashion. If we want to survive, we
have to control our anger and use common sense. We must surrender
our impassioned fury to sober reasoning. We are surrounded by plots
and cannot allow ourselves to get caught up in them. Syria’s leaders
want anarchy – we want construction. They want murder – we want
life. They want war – we want peace. They want to see rivers of blood
carving out chasms between us, between the people of Israel and the
Arabs – we want to build bridges of understanding and cooperation.20

Within this context, it is obvious why Mapam’s leaders expressed their


reservations over Rabin’s remarks regarding Israel’s Syrian policy. His com-
ments were viewed as the military level’s desire to trumpet the Syrian army’s
weaknesses and inability to react “properly” to the IDF’s operations against
Syria. Some of Rabin’s statements seemed to be of a political nature, thus
raising the question of proper civil–military relations in a democracy and
the need to subordinate the army to the political level. Another critic for the
Mapam organ wrote:

The commander-in-chief of our army is the defense minister – a civilian


authority. Our chiefs-of-staff are part of the military branch. They are
rotated on a regular basis in order to prevent the rise of a junta. There is
a clear division between the two authorities; nevertheless our senior offi-
cers come out with declarations on “high-level” policy dealing with cur-
rent matters that go beyond the framework of their authority . . . It seems
that Rabin’s latest warning was only intended to convince Syria to cease
its provocations and attacks against Israel. However, a deeper look
shows that Rabin went further toward a political goal this time, . . . and
painted the regime in Damascus as the target of Israeli retaliation.21
Criticism of the defense policy 89
According to Mapam’s leaders, the party did not completely rule out
military retaliation. However, it insisted that Israel’s response should be
proportional to the initial attack. This would signal the Syrians that Israel
intended to thwart provocation – not to escalate the situation. Hazan
stressed that,

Mapam did not totally object to defense operations. Defensive measures


were probably the only alternative in our struggle with the Syrians. But
we must take into account where [to react], the particular area [where
the exchange of fire occurred] and the weapons to be used.22

Finally, the leaders of Mapam emphasized that the government must not
choose a security policy based on domestic political considerations.
Members of the left-wing party tended to complain that Eshkol’s retaliatory
policy had much to do with pressure from Ben-Gurion and his supporters
as well as from the prime minister’s aversion to being perceived as a feckless
leader in comparison with Ben-Gurion. Hazan noted,

Internal pressures have influenced [the security policy toward Syria].


Rafi viewed Israel’s appeals to the United Nations against Syrian hos-
tilities as a crime and sacrilege. Rafi totally opposes our political
approach. They believe the only thing to do is to retaliate with force. If
Ben-Gurion were prime minister and Shimon Peres defense minister we
would already be at war.23

Following the April 7 aerial incident, Mapam heightened its criticism of


Israel’s security policy. Some of the party’s leaders felt that Israel’s retalia-
tion policy to Syria had gone overboard and was liable to deteriorate
toward war. The inner Mapam debate on this issue illustrates various lev-
els of criticism – beginning with moderate censure by Ya’akov Hazan and
rising to a much graver reproach by Ya’akov Riftin. Hazan justified the
April 7 air force action, claiming it was based on the principle that the
IAF would respond when the Syrians shelled civilian settlements. He had
second thoughts, however, about buzzing Damascus. He made no mention
of Israel’s proclivity to cultivate new tracts of land in the demilitarized zone.
Hazan and other Mapam spokespeople seem to be saying that the Israeli-
initiated farming of fallow plots in the demilitarized zone had caused the
serious incident of April 7, 1967. During a meeting of Mapam’s political
committee a few days after the incident, Hazan stated:

From the minute the Syrians opened fire with their artillery, [our]
planes were ordered in because the Syrians had the upper-hand topo-
graphically. Some of the planes attacked the mortars, while a second
group patrolled the skies. The planes were instructed not to measure
distances during the fighting [i.e. they were permitted to fly over
90 Criticism of the defense policy
Damascus]. We still believe that the use of aircraft is permitted only
when Israeli settlements are at risk and have to be protected. [Kibbutz]
Gadot was hit this time, [and this justified the use of the air
force] . . . [However] we reject the flexible policy [that allowed the
planes to buzz] Damascus. We also reject the plowing of new tracts that
have not been farmed till now, just as we reject [the position that says]
we should cease work in previously cultivated areas.24

Almost one month later, as tension mounted along the Syrian border,
Hazan again voiced his fear of an approaching war. Taking into account
Mapam’s long-held pro-Soviet orientation, he displayed courage in criticizing
Soviet policy in the region:

[I]nternational involvement in the region has darkened our situation.


There has never been a time like this in history, when we had to be so
cautious in our policy and weigh each step we undertook. The situation
is very tense. Since April 7 eighteen acts of sabotage have taken
place . . . We are faced with a massive, undeserved attack especially from
the socialist camp and this chiefly represents the Soviet Union’s position
that blames Israel for the Middle East situation . . . I am certain that [the
Soviet Union] knows the truth. But for its own reasons it denies this
truth . . . dragging the region to the brink . . . [Israel] and the Arab states
are the victims of international forces. Although we assume that [the
Arabs] are interested only in [maintaining a high level of] tension and
not [having it] explode, the situation and developments might not fit
into the planners’ design. Syria is the center of the terrorist
groups . . . We criticized the April 7 operation even though it is not easy
to condemn a successful action . . . by concentrating so many heavy
arms in Sinai, Egypt is playing with fire. The tension has already sur-
passed the limit [that the planners intended]. We shall do everything in
our power to exercise restraint and not let [the situation] deteriorate to
perilous acts.25

The harshest criticism of Israel’s defense policy came from Ya’akov


Riftin, a second-string figure in Mapam. He implied that the April 7 inci-
dent resulted from the decision of the defense establishment to plow tracts
of land that had not been farmed before, fully aware that this would invoke
a sharp Syrian reaction: “Whoever decided to plow [the tracts near
Kibbutz] Haon could have presumed that it would lead to a military inci-
dent. Why [did we have] to enter a military conflict? This is a miscalculation
and a faulty decision.”26
The next month, Riftin returned to the April 7 incident. By this time tension
in the region had reached unprecedented levels following the UN pullout
from Sinai, and his criticism was much more incisive. He blatantly accused
Israel for initiating the incident in order to heat up the border and cause
Criticism of the defense policy 91
a deterioration in Egyptian–Israeli relations. Speaking before his party
colleagues, he said:

It’s about time that we discuss the April 7 incident. I think it was
unnecessary for us to cultivate those plots [in the demilitarized zones].
I believe that the critical April 7 decision has placed us in danger of war.
There was no political need or security rationale to farm those plots.
The acts that followed were in response to our activity of April 7. I read
in our [party] paper that if there are casualties on the northern border,
automatic authorization will be given for a military response. And I
ask: Is this right? Should we not say: No automatic military action . . . Is
this not a watered-down version of Ben-Gurionism? . . . Our strength
has been in our defense . . . It was not necessary to act militarily . . . Our
job today is to prevent war, externally and domestically.27
7 Ben-Gurion confronts the war

The first stages of the crisis


On May 15, 1967, Israel celebrated Independence Day with an IDF parade
through Jerusalem’s streets. This event, like previous military parades in the
city, elicited a worldwide protest since they were perceived as violations of
United Nations resolutions regarding the status of Jerusalem and the
Israeli–Jordanian armistice agreement. Eshkol’s deliberation before agree-
ing to the parade, and Ben-Gurion’s stinging criticism of his indecision, also
seem to have brought the issue of Jerusalem’s status to the forefront of the
international agenda. In this light it was difficult for the Western Powers to
respond calmly to the procession. The White House informed Israel that the
American ambassador would not be present at the event.
On May 14 and 15, Egypt began to move its forces into Sinai. The
deployment was widely reported in the Egyptian media. Egyptian sources
further claimed that the concentration of the forces was intended to deter
Israel from attacking Syria. Israel interpreted Egypt’s undisguised maneuver
as the belligerent expression of an arrogant self-confident leader. Egypt’s
show of military might was the outcome of Syria’s pleas to Cairo to take
steps to deter Israel from launching an offensive against Damascus. Unless
Egypt responded positively to Syria’s appeal, it would jeopardize its posi-
tion as leader of the Arab world. On May 15, the CO (commanding offi-
cer) of the Southern Command, General Yeshayahu Gavish, informed Chief
of Staff Yitzhak Rabin: “Reports say that the Egyptian army has started
entering Sinai. I’m not exactly sure what this means but it’s definitely far
more serious than anything we’ve ever encountered.”1
On May 17, Israel learned that Egypt was demanding the evacuation of
the United Nations Emergency Force (UNEF). This force had been sta-
tioned in Sinai since the IDF withdrawal after the 1956 Sinai Campaign. In
early 1967 this force numbered 4300 troops from 5 countries – Sweden,
Brazil, Canada, Yugoslavia, and India. Each country contributed 1 regi-
ment. The 5 regiments were under the command of a joint headquarters
made up of representatives of the 5 countries. The overall commander was
an Indian general named Rikhye, who was accountable to the UN Secretary
Ben-Gurion confronts the war 93
General. The Emergency Force operated in two main sectors: the Gaza Strip
and Sinai. The Swedish, Brazilian, and Indian regiments were deployed in
the Gaza Strip; the Canadian and Yugoslavians in Sinai. Elements of the
Yugoslavian regiment were stationed around Sharm al-Sheikh at the south-
ern tip of the Sinai Peninsula in order to ensure the free passage of vessels
through the Straits of Tiran.
Egypt’s motive for demanding the removal of UN forces still remains a
mystery. According to the report of an Indian diplomat in Cairo, a known
confidant of General Rikhye, Egypt acted without any intention of going to
war with Israel. Egypt’s leaders only wanted the UN forces to pull back from
the border with Israel so they would not get hurt in case of a border flare-up.
The Indian diplomat attested that Egypt’s defense minister, Field Marshal
Amar, had instructed the chief of staff, General Fawzi, in this spirit. This
report seems to have been politically motivated. It was undoubtedly intended
to place the blame for the outbreak of hostilities on Israel rather than Egypt.2
In effect, Egypt “passed the ball” to the UN Secretary General, U Thant
who now had to decide whether to evacuate the UNEF or enlist international
support against Egypt’s demand. In the end, he agreed to pull the UN forces
out, reporting to the General Assembly that from the outset the Egyptians
had left him little choice. He emphasized that he had regretfully complied
with the Egyptian demand since he had no other alternative. His speedy deci-
sion was sharply criticized in Israel and Washington because it was politically
unsound and legally unnecessary. From the legal point of view, he could have
brought an issue of such importance to a debate before the General Assembly.
The postponement of the implementation of Egypt’s demand might have
cooled the crisis down and maybe even frozen it for a long time. Israel
claimed that this would have been in line with the understandings it reached
with the former secretary general, Dag Hammarskjöld, after the Sinai
Campaign. Israel also charged that U Thant’s eager acquiescence to the
removal of UN troops left Egypt with no alternative but to proceed with
escalatory steps lest it appear weak and frightened in the international arena.
Presently available documents belie the harsh reproach that was leveled
at the secretary general. Reliable data suggests that the Egyptian govern-
ment had notified the Yugoslavian and Indian governments of its intention
to call for a UNEF pullout even before the official request was handed to
the UN authorities. Yugoslavia and India decided jointly that if the UN sec-
retary general did not respond to Nasser’s demands, they would unilaterally
evacuate their troops. Yugoslavian and Indian representatives apparently
confronted U Thant with their ultimatum even before the Egyptian demand
was conveyed to the UN. They informed him that they would unilaterally
withdraw their forces from the UNEF if he refused to authorize the pull-
back. Under these circumstances, U. Thant realized that he had no choice
but to approve Egypt’s demand.3
According to other sources the Yugoslavian and Indian units began to
withdraw even before the official UN decision was made. Most significant
94 Ben-Gurion confronts the war
was Yugoslavia’s pullout from the Sharm al-Sheikh area overlooking the
Straits of Tiran. This move put Egypt in a dilemma. It had to choose the
lesser of two evils: either take control of the area and block the straits
to vessels bound for Israel’s Red Sea port of Eilat (a move that would almost
certainly place her on a collision course with Israel) or refrain from doing
so, and thus lose face in the Arab world for appearing as a nation that
feared a confrontation with Israel and hid behind the UNEF’s apron strings.
In the end, Egypt chose the first option.4
Scholars and politicians have long contended that Egypt wanted to avoid
a military confrontation with Israel but was dragged into it because of a
chain of events – termed a “rolling crisis.” According to this view, Egypt did
not “really” intend for the UNEF to withdraw from Sinai, but only wanted
to “flex its muscles” in order to deter Israel from attacking Syria. U Thant,
however, suddenly changed the game rules and decided on a complete pull-
out. The only option left to Egypt was to blockade the straits. From this
point on war was inevitable. The facts, however, tend to lessen the credi-
bility of this evaluation. Egypt’s coordination of the withdrawal of two
allied states (Yugoslavia and India) greatly strengthens the opposite assess-
ment: that in the waiting period, at least in its first stages, Egypt set in
motion a pre-arranged plan rather than precipitate a rolling crisis, as many
observers tended to believe.
Once the UNEF evacuated Sinai and Egyptian forces gained control of
the Sharm al-Sheikh area, the blocking of the Straits of Tiran to Israel’s
territorial waters was only a matter of time. Indeed, a few days after the
withdrawal of UNEF Egypt declared the straits closed to vessels flying the
Israeli flag, as well as foreign vessels carrying “strategic materials” (mainly
arms and oil) to Israel. Israel described the move as Egyptian provocation
and aggression, and regarded the blockade as a casus belli. Against this
backdrop, feverish political activity took place in order to prevent the
outbreak of hostilities, but the efforts came to nought on June 5.
During the crisis, the Egyptian position, stated in public and diplomatic
circles, was characterized by a high degree of determination, self-confidence,
and brazenness. Egypt’s sabre-rattling bombast over the upcoming victory
received wide publicity. Today, we know, that similar positions, even bolder
ones, were touted at the highest political level in Egypt in diplomatic
contacts with the Americans. For example, Nasser informed the American
envoy, Robert Anderson, a few days before the outbreak of war, that Israel
would initiate an attack, but he was confident that the final results would
be in Egypt’s favor.5
The Egyptians stubbornly blamed Israel and the United States for the
crisis. Eshkol’s government was accused of scheming to topple the Syrian
regime by means of a wide-scale military operation. The Egyptians stressed
that their information was based on their own sources – not Soviet ones, as
American and Israeli diplomats claimed. The United States was also
charged with responsibility for the crisis, as well as for the creation of the
Ben-Gurion confronts the war 95
State of Israel, whose aggression it abetted. Washington had always
supported Israel, and had never played the role of a neutral party in the con-
flict. Egypt also claimed that prior to the crisis, Washington had guaranteed
Israel the protection of the Sixth Fleet stationed in the Mediterranean. This
reinforced Israel’s confidence and allowed it to plot against its neighbors –
especially Syria. Egypt further accused the White House of extending nearly
unqualified support of Israel since the beginning of the crisis, thus placing
itself in conflict with Egypt and to a great extent with all of the Arab states.6
Senior Egyptian officials not only charged the United States with inciting
Israel to implement its provocative policy against the Arab world, but also
with attempting to destroy both the Nasserite regime and President Nasser.
A few months before the war, the American ambassador to Egypt had
reported that almost all top-level officials in Egypt believed that the CIA
was planning on eliminating the Egyptian regime, and in particular Nasser.
Some were even convinced that the CIA was conducting its “own indepen-
dent policy” that other circles in the US administration had no knowledge of.
Egyptian Foreign Minister Mahmud Riyad made a similar claim to the
American ambassador, professing that Egypt had solid evidence for these
allegations. Nasser raised the same issue, almost offhandedly, with UN
Secretary U Thant. He regretted that he could not participate in the
Conference of the Heads of African States about to convene in Kinshasa in
August 1967 because he feared the CIA would try to eliminate him there.7
When Egyptian representatives referred to Nasser’s decision to blockade the
Straits of Tiran, they pointed out that it was the prerogative of an independent
state to do what it wanted in areas under its full sovereignty. No country, not
even the United States, had the right to dictate to Egypt how to act in its own
area. Egypt promised that it would halt Israeli ships and seize strategic cargos,
especially oil. The Egyptian spokesmen warned that if American warships
attempted to run the blockade Egypt would not hesitate to open fire.8
At the same time, that, Egyptian representatives demonstrated their res-
olute stand regarding freedom of passage through the straits, they also tried
to spread smoke screens designed to give the impression that Egypt might
consider a peaceful solution to the crisis. Egypt’s “only” objective, they
declared, was to restore the area to its pre-1956 (Sinai Campaign) status.
The repeated use of this phrasing may have been intended to imply that
despite Egypt’s blockade of the straits, it was still willing to deal with the
issue as it had done prior to 1956. In other words, it would not implement
a permanent and unconditional blockade. This assessment gains further
credibility in light of the information that a senior Soviet representative
conveyed to American officials: “Nasser announced the closure of the straits
but he did not block them in practice.” The Soviet representative then
demanded that the American administration refrain from insisting that
Nasser officially declare his intention to avoid blocking the straits, and
instead, take steps to make it easier for the Egyptian president to retreat
from carrying out his threat.9
96 Ben-Gurion confronts the war
In an effort to exhibit moderation, Egyptian spokesmen made
noncommittal (but not negative) comments on the suggestion to submit the
question of Israeli shipping through the straits to a neutral third party.
Nasser, for example, expressed reservations (but not objections) to the idea
of letting the UN decide the issue. He charged that Israel attached little
importance to UN resolutions, often disregarding them. Therefore, it was
doubtful if it would accept a UN decision not in its favor. In contrast, the
Egyptian ambassador to the United States expressed limited support of the
idea. Nasser displayed a more positive attitude to the proposal to refer
the issue to the International Court in The Hague. He declared his willingness
to consider the idea seriously.10
Other compromises were raised that the Egyptians hinted they would
consider. These included Egypt’s willingness to implement the blockade on
the basis of the “flexible use” of the list of “strategic materials” acceptable
to Washington (“US Act of Battle – List of Strategic Materials”). Oil was
not defined on this list as “strategic material.” The Egyptian representatives
also expressed readiness to examine the transport of oil to Israel on ships
flying foreign flags – on condition that the quantity of oil would be strictly
limited to civilian needs.11
In another attempt to show “moderation,” Egyptian officials at the highest
level of government weighed a political solution to the crisis by committing
Egypt not to be the first party to open hostilities. President Nasser and
Foreign Minister Riad declared that Egypt was prepared to absorb a “first
strike” even if an Israeli attack appeared imminent. It should be noted that
until the outbreak of the war American intelligence estimates believed that
the Egyptian army was deployed defensively in Sinai. This, most probably,
indicates that Egypt was indeed committed to refrain from launching a first
strike against Israel.12
It is difficult to offer a precise assessment of the motives behind the
Egyptians’ stand to refrain from launching the first strike. Egypt probably put
too much confidence in the US guarantee that Israel would not dare to initi-
ate hostilities without American backing. Washington had informed the
Egyptians that it not only refused to support an Israeli military operation, but
had also admonished Israel’s leadership not to take any such steps in that
direction. The Egyptians may have also reckoned that even if Israel decided
to launch an attack, it would be a limited one that Egypt could absorb.
Afterwards Egypt would have the upper hand in negotiating an arrangement.
Another possible scenario was that Egypt intended to lull Israel into a false
sense of security in order to gain a strategic surprise, when it would initiate
hostilities after transforming the defensive formation into an offensive one.

Ben-Gurion’s fluctuating positions


During most of the crisis, Ben-Gurion felt that a solution could be attained
without resorting to a military confrontation. He probably recalled the 1960
Ben-Gurion confronts the war 97
crisis, codenamed “Operation Rotem,” when Egypt had made a similar show
of force in Sinai. However, as prime minister and defense minister,
Ben-Gurion had decided to avoid any steps that might have escalated the
crisis. Simultaneously, he coordinated political moves with the American
administration to reduce tension. In this case, diplomacy succeeded: the
crisis cooled down and Nasser brought his troops back to Egypt.
In the summer of 1967, a similar chain of events appeared, and
Ben-Gurion again pondered Nasser’s real motives and intentions for the
troop concentration in Sinai and blockade of the straits. He had no inten-
tion of being carried away by official assessments of the situation that
attributed these acts to Nasser’s willingness to confront Israel on the
battlefield. Ben-Gurion’s “own” evaluation seemed to make allowances for
Nasser. In this way, he continued to hold the opinions of experts and
professionals’ evaluations in abeyance just as he did when he served as
prime minister and defense minister.
In inner party debates, Ben-Gurion continued to criticize the official
government position even though he was well aware that the government
had won wall-to-wall public and political support when it declared that the
closure of the Straits of Tiran was an act of belligerency. When the highly
popular politically oriented poet, Nathan Alterman, agreed with the gov-
ernment’s stand, Ben-Gurion retorted: “You are wrong; this [the closure of
the straits] is not war.” This view was obviously a departure from the broad
consensus of opinion that only a politician of Ben-Gurion’s stature, who
was completely free of narrow political strictures and personal considerations,
could allow himself to express.13
Ben-Gurion’s adoption of this position seemed to imply that Nasser was
blind to the dire consequences he faced by having blockaded the straits. Ben-
Gurion may have thought that Nasser simply failed to comprehend the full
significance of Israel’s perception of this move: “[Nasser] did not realize that
blocking [our] freedom of navigation would lead to war.” It is unclear what
Ben-Gurion exactly meant by this. Nasser must have been perfectly aware of
the severe blow to Israel’s credibility and deterrence if it acquiesced to the
blockade. Ben-Gurion may have been referring to Egypt’s unawareness of the
economic ramifications of the straits’ closure, especially Israel’s near-total
dependency on oil from Iran via the Red Sea. Whatever the case, Ben-Gurion
summed up the situation: “If we stand firm and are cautious, no serious clash
will follow. But I can’t say if this depends on us alone.”14
On May 26, Peres told Ben-Gurion that he believed war would begin that
day with an IDF attack on the Egyptians. The Old Man was extremely dis-
satisfied with this news. He figured that Nasser would cease his instigations
because the blockade was sufficient to bolster his status. Ben-Gurion also
remembered that following the Sinai Campaign Nasser had prohibited
armed infiltration from the Gaza Strip. The great unknown at this point
was the Israeli government. Ben-Gurion was uncertain how it would deal
with the events. He knew that the army was prepared for war and maybe
98 Ben-Gurion confronts the war
even eager for a fight. But he was unable to assess the power struggle at the
top level of the political-security establishment since he no longer knew
who had the decisive voice there.
In light of the uncertainty over the government’s intentions and the
differences of opinion among the decision makers, Ben-Gurion requested an
urgent meeting with Dayan (now a general in the reserves), who was
inspecting IDF units in the south. Ben-Gurion undoubtedly wished to
obtain accurate information on the balance of power and various orienta-
tions inside the national leadership. The Old Man’s aides had a hard time
finding Dayan. Around noontime, Dayan called Ben-Gurion from Beer
Sheva and suggested that they meet there, on condition that Rabin gave his
approval of the meeting. During their meeting Dayan confirmed Peres’s
earlier situation evaluation; that is, Ben-Gurion learned that the IDF had
been ordered to assault the Gaza Strip that the morning but the order was
cancelled.15
At this point, Dayan established, perhaps unconsciously, a pattern in his
relationship with the Old Man. Despite Ben-Gurion’s prestige, age, and
experience, he had been forced to travel to the south to talk with Dayan.
Dayan gave his former patron no leeway, putting him “right in his place.”
Ben-Gurion probably paid little heed at this point to games of status. He
seems to have been totally involved in the crisis and nonmilitary measures
to solve it. He was worried about the steps the government had taken so far,
and he still had deep qualms over the initiation of military action without
advance coordination with Western governments. On May 26, he penned
the following diary entry:

This is a difficult test – one that [Israel] has never faced before. Our
task is to open the straits [to Israeli navigation]. But we [should] take
action only after gaining the consent of friendly states. Opening the
straits by force will lead to war. Without securing the support and
understanding of the Western world [so as to guarantee] additional
arms – we will fail. Egypt’s army is stronger than ever. [We have to be
prepared for] a confrontation with all of the Arab armies. We will
lose men and equipment. The Egyptians will also suffer. [But unlike us,
the Egyptians] have no reservations over losing men. [We also have to
take into account that the Egyptians] will receive all the weapons they
need from Russia. Without assurances of arms from America, England,
or France it will be the end [of Israel]. We have to be realistic. Our army
is magnificent. But today [it is impossible] to fight the way David
fought Goliath.16

Dayan’s autobiography, Story of My Life, depicts Ben-Gurion’s position


as reflecting the tactical steps he felt Israel had to take during the waiting
period. According to this version, Ben-Gurion’s warning against going to war
was only provisional. After Israel carried out a number of political-strategic
Ben-Gurion confronts the war 99
steps, nothing would prevent it from initiating hostilities at the right time.
Israel would have gained a strategically secure rear and staved off accusations
of aggression and belligerency. Dayan wrote,

Ben-Gurion was tense. He regarded the situation as very grave. If we


attack now, the whole world will be against us and we will receive no
assistance. In his opinion, we have to: 1. Clarify the situation thor-
oughly with the United States, England, and France so that they under-
stand our position and will be prepared to assist us with arms in order
to safeguard our rights. 2. Following this – launch an aerial attack on
Sharm al-Sheikh. Nasser will react, full-scale war will ensue, but we
will not be labeled the aggressor, and will be able to receive arms from
the West. 3. Inform the Western countries that we desire their assistance
in arms supplies but we do not want them to fight for us.17

According to Dayan, Ben-Gurion did not believe that Nasser would


initiate an attack at present since he gained what he wanted at Tiran –
self-aggrandizement in the Arab world. Ben-Gurion was eager to visit the
Southern Command’s headquarters. He called Rabin to ask for permission.
Rabin was in a quandary. On the one hand, he definitely did not want the
Old Man spreading his views in the army; on the other hand, it was diffi-
cult to refuse Ben-Gurion’s request. After all, Ben-Gurion had founded the
IDF and had played a dominant part in his (Rabin’s) appointment to chief
of staff. Rabin answered diplomatically: “I won’t say no.” Ben-Gurion was
experienced enough to comprehend that Rabin opposed the visit, and dis-
ciplined enough to inform Rabin that he would not go. As for the timing of
the attack, he did not change his opinion. When Dayan told him that the
air force was convinced that without a preemptive strike, Israel would lose
its strength, Ben-Gurion replied that this was the correct military approach,
but political considerations were preferable. “If we attack now – it will be
a disaster.”18
Shimon Peres, Ben-Gurion’s close associate and confidant, in this period
at least, also strongly opposed an Israeli-initiated strike. Despite the prox-
imity of their views, Peres seems to have gone further than Ben-Gurion; that
is, while the Old Man believed that Israel had to coordinate its moves with
the Great Powers before taking action, Peres appears to have had more gen-
eral reservations over an Israeli-initiated attack. When Rafi leaders met on
May 21, Peres outlined the situation as he saw it and explained his reser-
vations. The Egyptians were apparently coordinating their steps with the
Soviet Union. This meant that Israel had to be extremely careful in handling
the crisis.19
By late May, as Nasser’s provocations increased, Ben-Gurion seems to
have considered an Israeli initiative against Egypt. At a Rafi meeting in the
Knesset on May 29, he sounded more bellicose than ever. Although he was
not eager for a fight, his assessment of the situation gives the impression
100 Ben-Gurion confronts the war
that Israel had no option but to use force. This was especially true following
Foreign Minister Eban’s mission to Western capitals and talks with President
Johnson on May 26. Ben-Gurion must have realized that even if Johnson
was seriously inclined to protect free navigation in the Straits of Tiran, it
was very doubtful whether the American president would take steps to see
this through in the immediate future.
Interestingly, in Eshkol’s June 8 speech before members of Mapai’s
Secretariat, he confirmed Ben-Gurion’s evaluation regarding the unreliability
of Washington’s promise to ensure Israeli shipping in the Gulf of Eilat: “It
was not by chance that Eban went to the United States,” he stated,

President Johnson said they needed two weeks to establish an


international maritime force that would open the Straits of Tiran. A
week went by, and we looked with a magnifying glass and beating heart
to see what was happening . . . if any progress was being made. Was it
getting closer? Some days there seemed to be progress, other days it was
in retreat. Then [we heard] that 40–50 nations had been asked to sign
the famous contract [supporting free navigation in the Gulf of Eilat and
expressing willingness to undertake measures that would ensure the
freedom of navigation through the straits]. When we checked on the
forty–fifty states, it turned out that there were only a dozen or so [coun-
tries that seemed serious about their commitment], and even they were
wavering. Later [we heard] that several states were willing to supply
escort vessels. Even Canada and Australia. [But] in the end there were
only two countries, perhaps only one. Two, if we take the United States
into consideration, the second was Israel – that may have joined in
sending a ship. In the end Johnson would have probably quit the game
since he has global problems, and immense global interests.20

In the same meeting Ben-Gurion also said that Israel could not count on
the Western powers to take any forceful measures to ensure its maritime
rights. In the end, Israel would have to act on its own, otherwise a new real-
ity would emerge, one that Israel would find extremely difficult to change.
The present blockade of the straits has heightened Nasser’s prestige, but if
the closure becomes an established fact, his strength would soar.
Ben-Gurion warned against expecting American intervention to open the
straits. His statements imply that his objection to an Israeli-initiated strike
was a tactical move, and that he considered the timing of the proposed
attack inappropriate. He warned his colleagues:

Abba Eban [who had returned the previous day] may have to wait two
weeks or a [as long as a] year [until an international force will be oper-
ational]. A long wait means accepting [the new reality of Egyptian
deployment in Sinai and the blockade of the straits]. America and
England don’t need the straits, [they need] only the Suez [Canal].
Ben-Gurion confronts the war 101
England will not act unilaterally [to open the straits] . . . Although Johnson
has made it perfectly clear [that America is committed to guaranteeing
Israeli shipping], [but] words are one thing and deeds another . . . [The
United States and Britain] do not consider the closure of the straits a
[declaration of] war against Israel . . . Johnson also has to consider public
opinion, the military, and both Houses of Congress. We may have to
resort to force. Nasser has shut [the straits to our shipping]; we will open
[them] by force. I do not believe this will be considered an act of war.21

On several occasions Ben-Gurion voiced his concern over an immediate


Israeli move. On one occasion, he asserted that the timing was of crucial
importance but the right circumstances had not arrived yet. On May 27, Ben-
Gurion met with members of the right-wing party, Herut, and with the Liberal
Party. He repeated his view that a military strike against the blockade should
take place only after the Western Powers had given their consent and guaran-
teed Israel of a weapons supply: “What should we do,” Ben-Gurion asked?

[We may] assume that we’ll have to liberate the Straits of Eilat [only]
after [we provide] sufficient explanations to the leaders of America,
England, and France that we understand that this will force Nasser to
war with us, and that they [the Western Powers] will have to supply us
with arms for those we lose in the fighting, since Egypt and Syria are
protected by Russia. No one contradicted me.22

On May 28 Ben-Gurion received a report from Peres that two hundred


thousand Israeli reservists had been called up. Although he doubted the
credibility of this figure, the Old Man laconically summed up his view of
Israel’s escalation of the crisis: “Madness!” When Rafi held a meeting at
Ben-Gurion’s home on June 1, the Old Man stated categorically: “I don’t
know how things will turn out with Nasser. I’m opposed to our launching
an attack tomorrow or the day after.” Ben-Gurion apparently retained this
view until the outbreak of hostilities. In the June 4 cabinet meeting, one of
the more moderate cabinet ministers, Moshe Shapira, announced that he
was in favor of war. But he also revealed that when he spoke with
Ben-Gurion, the Old Man had objected to a military initiative.23
On June 4 the cabinet passed the following resolution:

The Egyptian, Jordanian and Syrian armies are prepared to launch an


immediate multi-front attack that will threaten the survival of the state.
The government has decided to take military action in order to lift the
siege on Israel and preempt the impending attack of the forces of the
Joint Arab Command. The government authorizes the Prime Minister
and the Defense Minister to grant the Chief of Staff the approval for
the timing of the operation. Members of Government will be informed
shortly of the operation’s stages.24
102 Ben-Gurion confronts the war
In practical terms, the resolution stated that a military campaign would
commence the next day.
Ben-Gurion received the report of the government decision. According to
Haim Yisraeli, the assistant defense minister, Dayan asked him [Yisraeli] to
inform Ben-Gurion about the intended attack but not to mention its precise
timing. Apparently Dayan doubted Ben-Gurion’s ability to keep the secret.
Upon hearing this Ben-Gurion expressed his disappointment over the fate-
ful decision: “I fail to understand the hastiness involved,” he noted in his
diary, “Would it not have been wiser to consult first [with the Western
Powers]?”25
On the morning of June 5, he learned that war had broken out. He wrote
in his diary: “Dayan has sent a high-ranking officer to inform me that oper-
ations have commenced. [But] there was no need to [send him]. At the start
of the hostilities there was a shrill siren throughout the country. Everybody
knew that war had begun . . . The [initiation of hostilities] is a serious mis-
take. They [government ministers] should have told Washington and
London that we would commence operations if [they failed to] open the
straits.” At 10:30 a.m. the former Chief of Staff, Zvi Tzur, told Ben-Gurion
about the preliminary results of the air strike – 137 Egyptian aircraft had
been destroyed on the ground.26
At noon the same day Ben-Gurion met with Knesset Members Peres and
Yosef Almogi. It was apparent that the air strike had been a near-total suc-
cess and the war had already been decided in Israel’s favor. Nonetheless,
Ben-Gurion repeated his reservations over the military moves taken that
day: “The deed is done,” he told Peres, “but I do not think they should have
started the war without first speaking with England and America and
explaining to them why we had to fight.” Peres calmed him and informed
him (his basis of information is not clear) that “coordination [with the
Western Powers] had been carried out.”27
The White House was apparently taken completely by surprise. On June 4,
one day before the war broke out, Johnson sent a message to Nasser
emphasizing his administration’s intention to continue trying to solve the
crisis by political means. In this spirit, he invited the Egyptian Vice
President, Zakariya Muhyi ad-Din to visit the United States at the earliest
possible date. Johnson also mentioned his plan to dispatch a senior admin-
istration official to Egypt, most likely Vice President Hubert Humphrey.
The wording of the message clearly indicates that Johnson felt there was
still time for diplomatic efforts.28
Ben-Gurion’s overriding concern about hasty militant moves in the
immediate pre-Six-Day War period corresponded with his general outlook.
It expressed the same cautious and restrained view that he showed through-
out his political career. The concept was based on two main elements:
1. The realization that the use of military force always entails risks, in that
a state can never be sure of its victory – even if in theory it has a clear
military superiority. 2. Recognition of the severe limitations of military
Ben-Gurion confronts the war 103
force in general, and in the Israeli–Arab case in particular. In other words,
victory on the battlefield does not ipso facto solve the problems that led to
war, and may even spawn greater ones.
Ben-Gurion’s objection to military initiatives before the outbreak of
hostilities was also based on his grave doubts about the IDF’s readiness for
war, though he generally preferred not to go into details on the matter.
Some Rafi members, especially Dayan and Peres, were highly critical of the
IDF’s arms acquisition policy in this period, particularly that of the air
force. Ben-Gurion must have been aware of this criticism. He was certainly
worried about the balance of conventional weapons between Israel and the
Arab states though he generally trained his criticism on other aspects of the
security policy – mainly the development of the nuclear option.
These concerns fed his anxiety that an Israeli military victory was far
from being guaranteed. He held to his gloomy assessment of an
Arab–Israeli confrontation even though people close to him, like Peres and
Dayan, who were regularly updated on the strength of the Israeli army, gave
more reassuring reports. At a meeting of the Rafi faction on May 21, Dayan
said, “According to Shimon [Peres] the IDF is now very strong. There has
been an enormous development in the armoured corps. If Nasser attacks
he’ll be thoroughly beaten.” Dayan also added his own evaluation: “If
Israel and Egypt clash . . . I think the IDF is strong enough to thrash
Egypt . . . As for operations [the IDF’s operational abilities], I believe the IDF
is powerful and will gain the upper hand.” Former Chief of Staff Zvi Zur
was at the same meeting and asserted,

Militarily, our situation is better than ever . . . [thanks to] the aggregate
of organization, training, etc. The IDF’s capability is very good today
and the balance of power has not worsened despite the Arabs’ arms
procurement. Looking at the Egyptian sector, following the recent
mobilization, the number of our men and tanks is not less than what
[faces them] in Sinai.29

Another factor that must have caused Ben-Gurion endless worry was
Egypt’s non-conventional capability. In the period prior to the outbreak of
the war, information and evaluations abounded that the Egyptian army had
been supplied with non-conventional weapons. Although circles in the
Israeli intelligence establishment tended to question the credibility of these
reports, they could not completely discount them. Furthermore, the Israeli
intelligence community’s failure to foresee the approaching crisis probably
enhanced the concern that, despite the sanguine estimates of Egypt’s poor
showing in developing a non-conventional capability, the situation was in
fact different, and Egypt had managed to conceal from Israel and the West
far-reaching accomplishments in this sensitive area.
The brazen provocations and excessive confidence that Nasser and the
Egyptian leadership displayed during the crisis also probably heightened
104 Ben-Gurion confronts the war
suspicion in Israel and the Western Powers, that maybe there was justification
for the Egyptian president’s bragging, and that he did possess weapons of
mass destruction. No official agency could rule out this scenario. For Ben-
Gurion and many other Israelis who were not routinely updated with intel-
ligence data, these fears were perhaps more tangible. This is illustrated in
Ben-Gurion’s conversation with Moshe Dayan during the May 21 Rafi
meeting in the Knesset:

Ben-Gurion: What [will happen] if [Nasser] launches a missile attack?


Dayan: What are missiles? They’re only [artillery] shells. I assume it
won’t be armed with a nuclear warhead.
Ben-Gurion: A few years ago [Nasser] bragged that he could [reach every
point [south of Beirut with his missiles].
Dayan: If it’s armed with a conventional warhead, then it’s [just] a
bomb.30

To sum up, Ben-Gurion was grimly uncertain about Israel’s military


superiority. His foreboding that the war would escalate beyond the
Egyptian front to other Arab states added to his anxiety about Israel’s abil-
ity to meet the confrontation. He foresaw a lengthy and bloody campaign
that would claim many victims on the Israeli side and probably be accom-
panied with a staggering attack on the civilian population. The war would
have debilitating effect on the IDF’s strength and require a massive, rapid
arms supply from the Western Powers. Since Israel had failed to coordinate
its steps with them – it was doubtful whether they would grant this aid.
Under these circumstances, Israel’s survival would be in jeopardy. At a Rafi
meeting on May 29 Ben-Gurion stated this explicitly, “There is a real danger
of destruction. I don’t know whether it can be avoided.”31
Another cause for concern that cost Ben-Gurion many a sleepless night
was Soviet intervention if the war turned in Israel’s favor. This would also
explain the Old Man’s exhortations to reach an understanding with the
Western Powers before embarking on military operations, so as to neutral-
ize the possibility of Soviet involvement. These fears magnified during the
war when the IDF turned its guns on Syria, a major Soviet ally. It should be
recalled that from the time Ben-Gurion served as defense minister during
the War of Independence, he repeatedly warned against a military con-
frontation with a superpower. This issue became an ironclad principle not
to be deviated from under any circumstances. Some of his most crucial deci-
sions during the War of Independence and the Sinai Campaign stemmed
from his deepest concern over such a confrontation. After the Sinai
Campaign he declared:

For years the planning of our army was [designed to enable] it to face
any Arab army or all of the Arab armies. But I insisted on the principle
that we would never send our forces against a non-Arab army . . . I have
Ben-Gurion confronts the war 105
advised other defense ministers to maintain this principle: That God
forbid, they should get the IDF embroiled in a military clash with a
non-Arab army.32

Another reason for Ben-Gurion’s position may be attributed to his belief


that acts of belligerency by Israel could damage its efforts to safeguard its
nuclear option. He must have taken this factor into consideration while
planning for Israel’s future security, and feared that physical damage to the
Dimona nuclear reactor would incapacitate it. Ben-Gurion may have feared
that even if Egypt failed to actually hit the reactor, the attempt would be
sufficient to rekindle the international inspection issue. As an Egyptian air
strike loomed on the horizon, Israel’s nuclear development was liable to
return to the center of international debate. If this happened, and Egypt
tried to destroy the reactor from the air, there would be an international
outcry for tighter monitoring of Israel’s nuclear activity, even if the Egyptian
attack failed. This could lead to the neutralization of the Dimona Project
just as it was reaching a high level of “productiveness.” This matter had
been the source of ongoing tension between Israel and the United States
beginning in late 1961 when the reactor’s existence was revealed.33
Finally, Ben-Gurion may have underscored the need for coordination
with the Western Powers in order to ensure that the victory would achieve
tangible political gains. He had piloted Israel through two wars – the War
of Independence and the Sinai Campaign – and had witnessed the political
leadership assailed with bitter reproach for missing the opportunity to
obtain vital political goals. In both cases, one of the chief reasons for the
limited political fruits was the lack of Great Power support, especially from
the United States. The prospect of allowing cardinal political gains slip
away again caused Ben-Gurion intolerable concern even as the astounding
dimensions of the military victory became evident.
8 Ben-Gurion’s involvement
in the war

Mixture of joy and frustrations


Ben-Gurion arrived at the Israeli Air Force’s (IAF) “pit” at GHQ in the late
morning hours of June 5. He was invited because of his special status as the
former prime minister and defense minister who had led his country in its
most critical hours. Entry into the “pit” required the highest level of autho-
rization. Therefore, his presence must have aroused some consternation. On
hand were Generals Moshe Dayan, Yigael Yadin, Mordechai Hod, and Ezer
Weizman. No one had any idea how much information on the progress of
the fighting Ben-Gurion should receive. Nevertheless, he was immediately
handed a detailed report of the air strikes against Egypt. He must have been
jarred by the news. All his anxieties and warnings about the possible cata-
strophe of a preemptive strike by Israel were suddenly proven incorrect.
The IAF blitzkrieg vindicated the proponents of a first strike, namely the
IDF high command, as well as Dayan. Ben-Gurion probably suffered sev-
eral moments of disorientation. For years he had exemplified the stalwart
leader during periods of extreme trial. Now, when he was removed from the
national leadership, he expressed greater apprehension and caution than in
the past.
His diary omits any hint of his disconcertment. He seems to have quickly
accepted the facts and adjusted to the astounding circumstances. From the
first day of the war his daily journal reflects euphoria over the unfolding
events. As soon as the results of the air strikes in Egypt and Syria became
known, his mood soared:

Our Air Force’s victory may be unsurpassed in world [history]. We


destroyed 362 Arab planes, mostly Egyptian. We bombed almost all of
the airfields in Egypt and Syria. We’ve captured Khan Yunis and Rafah
[cities in the Gaza Strip]. Only the Jordanians are still putting up resis-
tance. Egypt and Syria are defeated. Moshe [Dayan] still refrains from
publicizing our achievements.1

Although Ben-Gurion tried to temper his emotions, like the rest of leaders
and the entire nation he was swept up in the outburst of euphoria that
Ben-Gurion’s involvement in the war 107
overtook the country. He intended to go to the Knesset that day, but when
he realized that the “center of events” was in Tel-Aviv where the Defense
Ministry and GHQ were located, he decided to remain in Tel-Aviv. Also, in
Tel-Aviv he could be in the company of the “security chiefs” with whom he
was personally acquainted and several of whom still held him in esteem. On
the other hand, many politicians were among his foes, and in whose pres-
ence he certainly felt less relaxed. But Ben-Gurion, as his custom, tended to
keep his feelings to himself. His readers are not told that he wanted to
remain in Tel-Aviv. He prefers to relate that he was “advised” to stay there.
“The Knesset session was supposed to convene at four o’clock, but has been
postponed till six-thirty. Moshe [Dayan] will go there to be sworn in and
then return immediately. I’ve been advised not to go at all.”2
Ben-Gurion was still reeling from the sense of triumph when he wrote to
an old friend, Yosef Weitz, comparing his present emotions to those he felt
when he declared statehood on May 14, 1948. He believed that the jubila-
tion of June 1967 was greater than on the day the country gained indepen-
dence and could only be compared to the day he immigrated to Eretz Israel.

You’re wrong if you think that I’ve forgotten the day of Israel’s rebirth or
the significance of its restoration. On May 14, 1948 I was completely
absorbed by one issue: how to overcome the daunting challenge of an
invasion by Arab armies. After I left the Tel Aviv museum where state-
hood was declared, I saw people dancing in the streets. But I didn’t par-
take in the celebrations and rejoicing because I was overcome by one
bitter concern: how to defeat our enemies. But last week I was filled with
joy – even that is not the right word to describe the height of exhilaration
that pervaded my whole being because of the IDF’s dazzling swift victory.
I felt a similar emotional experience only [one other time in my life] on the
first night of my arrival in Petah Tikva when I heard the wail of jackals
and braying of donkeys and sensed that I had returned to our nation’s
rejuvenating homeland and I was no longer in the Diaspora’s exile.3

That evening, he traveled to Jerusalem in the company of Defense


Minister Dayan and Rafi MK Yosef Almogi to attend the Knesset meeting.
After a short debate he returned to Tel-Aviv and he continued to receive
updates from the fronts. The following morning he was given a situation
report from Assistant Defense Minister Haim Yisraeli stating that the IDF
was advancing in Sinai and that the Old City of Jerusalem was under
assault. In the north, Yisraeli continued, the Syrians were in a panic, but
“for the time being [Dayan] is leaving them alone in order to smash them
later.” In a surprising shift from his previously cautious stance, Ben-Gurion
disagreed with this tactic: “In the meantime the settlements [in the north]
are suffering [from Syrian shelling] and must be defended.”4
On the morning of June 6, he received a detailed situation report from a
former chief of staff, Zvi Tzur: “Jerusalem is surrounded,” Tzur told him,
108 Ben-Gurion’s involvement in the war
but Dayan “had ordered [the troops] not to enter the city.” Tzur thought
that, “The West Bank would be in our hands today.” He told Ben-Gurion
that the Egyptians were urging the Syrians to shell the border settlements
because the Syrians “had done practically nothing” yesterday. President
Nasser had asked the Russians to arrange a ceasefire but the United States
had other interests. The Americans want us to “take out Nasser quickly.”
Tzur believed that “tomorrow we’ll complete [the conquest of] Jordan (the
West Bank) and Sinai.”5
On the morning of June 7, Ben-Gurion met with Joseph Sapir, a Gahal
minister in the just formed National Unity Government. Sapir wanted
to know Ben-Gurion’s position on the Old City and the West Bank.
Ben-Gurion presented an extremely hard-line stand regarding Israel’s
military operations on the Jordanian and Syrian fronts:

I told him [Sapir] that we have to speed up the pace of victory . . . and
win on all fronts. We have to strike Syria a mortal blow because of
what they did to our settlements yesterday even though it was due to
Nasser’s pressure.

Ben-Gurion would soon reverse his position on this point.6


On June 8, the country’s leaders consulted feverishly regarding action
against Syria. Serious considerations, some widely divergent, were broached.
The government hesitated before moving against Syria and capturing the
Golan Heights. Eshkol shared his doubts with Mapai members over the
government’s Syrian policy:

We still have a few more things [to do] that are not secret . . . The Banias
springs are Syrian. The Jordan [River] is fed from the Banias, Hatzbani
and Dan [Rivers]. Lebanon has enough water. The Banias is a kilometer
and a half from our border. Syria is giving us a hard time. Perhaps the
hour has come [to teach it a lesson] . . . This issue is being discussed,
pending a solution. Today I received a telephone call from a friend in
the north, from one of the northern settlements, and he said: “I’m
speaking for all of the settlements. We’re being shelled day and night by
artillery from the Golan Heights. We want you to know that we’re no
less important than the Old City.” . . . In last war Syria got off better
than the others. At present the same thing is happening, although it was
[Syria] that lit the fire. [And now they] will be able to boast: “Look
how we’ve come out of the whole affair [without a scratch].”7

On the morning of June 9, Ben-Gurion heard on the Voice of Israel that


Syria agreed to the Security Council resolution for a ceasefire. He knew that
the fighting in the north was still in progress and he expressed his vigorous
displeasure with this situation. His position on military operations was very
inconsistent. He probably felt that Syria had to be thrashed, but he was torn
Ben-Gurion’s involvement in the war 109
between this wish and his anxiety over the outcome of such a dangerous
move. He feared that Israel’s invasion after Syria had consented to a cease-
fire would tarnish Israel’s image as a peace-seeking country that had
recourse to its military arm only when confronted with a tangible threat.
Ben-Gurion was naturally very troubled by the possibility of direct Soviet
intervention to protect its chief ally in the Middle East.8
Bearing in mind Ben-Gurion’s “traditional” strategic thinking, his
position on an offensive against Syria appears rather strange. He always
claimed that in the hostile conditions of the Middle East, Israel was not
obliged “to wait” to be attacked in order to justify its response. Based on
this concept he had approved of military moves during the War of
Independence that went beyond mere self-defense. In the same vein he
brushed aside criticism of the Kinneret Operation (December 1955) when it
was claimed that Israel’s military action against Syria had been unprovoked.
After he received identical reports from different sources on Israeli
operations in the north, he phoned Dayan and asked, “Why aren’t we beating
the daylights out of the Syrians?” Dayan replied that Israel had deployed a
large force in the north but the Syrians were putting up a stiff fight. Ben-
Gurion wanted to know who was responsible for violating the ceasefire that
Syria had agreed to. The entry in Ben-Gurion’s diary notes: “[Dayan] preferred
not to answer.” It is hard to say whether Dayan’s reticence stemmed from
apprehension that the line was tapped or his reluctance to provide Ben-Gurion
with ultrasensitive information. Either way, the Old Man understood that
Israel was responsible for resuming combat operations: “This answer was suf-
ficient.” That evening, Zvi Tzur came by for a second time and explained that
the question of seizing the Golan Heights had been discussed yesterday. Dayan
had objected to the move, but the next day he changed his mind.9
This information was very vexatious to Ben-Gurion because it meant that
Israel had initiated the renewal of hostilities. For this reason, he changed his
position. He believed that prolonged fighting with the Syrians was a serious
mistake and a grave danger because of the Soviet threat. Moreover, even if
Israel occupied the heights it would not remain there for long. This was the
backdrop to his diary entry of June 9:

It was a big mistake not to maintain the ceasefire with Syria. We don’t
need the [Golan] Heights because we won’t be staying there. The main
error [was] our needless violation of the Security Council resolution.
We’ll [soon] be struggling for more important things and our enemies
don’t have to know that we broke our word. We agreed to the ceasefire
and then resumed the fighting even though it was not crucial for us and
is liable to damage our good name and [endanger] the settlements in
the north.10

The Soviet Union’s decision to sever diplomatic relations with Israel


confirmed Ben-Gurion’s earlier qualms: “This [rupture] is the result of the
110 Ben-Gurion’s involvement in the war
unnecessary continuation of the fighting in Syria. We cannot deceive the
whole world.”11
According to recently declassified files, the Soviet Union sent a sharp
warning to Israel on June 8 not to initiate hostilities against Syria. The Soviet
Ambassador to Israel, Dimitry Chuvakhin, handed the message to the West
German Ambassador to Israel. In a conversation between the two, Chuvakhin
stated that the Soviet Union warned Israel after it resumed its attack against
Syria, “If Israel continues to be drunk with success and proceeds with its
aggression, then the future of this little country will be very sad.” The West
Germans assessed that if the Russians concluded that Israel intended to
overthrow the Syrian regime, they were likely to take direct action to obstruct
the move. Ben-Gurion may have been informed of the Soviet warning.12
On the afternoon of June 10, Dayan met with the chief UN observer
General Odd Bull. Dayan made clear that Israel would comply with any
arrangement that Bull proposed regarding the Security Council decision for
a ceasefire and supervision of the truce. Dayan also pointed out that such
an arrangement would have nothing to do with the General Armistice
Agreements but with the modus operandi for respecting the Security
Council decision. He also stressed that the arrangement would have to be
mutual. From Israel’s point of view, Dayan emphasized, the ceasefire could
go into effect “within five minutes.” In any case, Israel was willing to accept
any timeframe that Bull suggested and the Syrians agreed to. Israel would
provide the UN observers with the technical assistance needed to facilitate
the supervision of the ceasefire.13
At the Rafi Secretariat meeting on June 11, Ben-Gurion expressed his
opposition to the belligerency toward Syria after the ceasefire had been
attained. During the meeting, Peres handed the Old Man a secret message
admonishing: “Read and destroy.” Peres’s note detailed the decision making
involved in taking the Golan Heights:

On Thursday [June 8, 1967], following the ceasefire, the Ministerial


Committee for Security Affairs discussed the Syrian issue. I believe that all
the ministers agreed that Syria had to be attacked and the Golan Heights
captured. Moshe Dayan, fearing the Russian reaction and cost in lives,
was opposed to such a move. It was left to the prime minister and defense
minister to decide according to the circumstances. The next morning,
Friday, Moshe [Dayan] changed his mind, and ordered the CO Northern
Command [Maj. Gen. David Elazar] to ascend [assault] the heights. After
a fifteen minute delay he informed Eshkol about this [decision]. Eshkol
agreed to the plan but was angry at the way [it had been decided].14

Ben-Gurion and the strengthening of the war’s gains


When the extent of Israel’s military victory became known, Ben-Gurion was
among the few who realized its potential negative implications for Israel.
Ben-Gurion’s involvement in the war 111
He was particularly concerned over the demographic consequences in
annexing a large Arab population. As early as the second day of the war he
jotted down in his diary:

We cannot forget that there are approximately one million Arabs in


the West Bank. The last thing we need is to add them to the Arab
[population] of Israel. There are also about two hundred thousand
refugees in the Gaza Strip and it will not be easy to get rid of them.
However, we will [solve] these problems after we successfully conclude
our victory on all fronts.15

Ben-Gurion’s fears of the “demographic problem” were shared by other


Israeli statesmen as well. In a speech before the Mapai Secretariat, Prime
Minister Eshkol expressed his deep concern:

We control an area that includes the Gaza Strip with a million or


1.2 million Arabs. We have only recently become aware of the
deplorable state of immigration [to Israel] that has diminished or come
to a halt, and the low birthrate among the European (Ashkenazi)
Jewish population. If the good Lord had not blessed the Jews from
Islamic countries with many children, who knows where we would be
today. But [now], 1.2 million Arabs have come [under our control] and
their birthrate is not low. This is a serious problem that we’ll have to
rack our brains trying to solve . . . We’ll have to deal with the question
of living in Israel without giving back what we’ve captured and how to
live with such a number of non-Jews.16

Golda Meir expressed similar concern. A few months after the war, at a
meeting of the Mapai Secretariat, she recalled that she had asked Eshkol,
“What are we going to do with a million Arabs?” and he had answered, “I see
that you like the dowry but not the bride.” Golda Meir nodded in agreement:

But, did you ever see anyone get a dowry without a bride? A bride
without a dowry – we’ve seen. But a dowry without a bride? Everybody
wants that. He’d love the dowry and for someone else to get the bride.
But the two are inseparable.17

However, Ben-Gurion’s immediate interest was on the urgent need


to ensure Israel’s sovereignty in the Old City, rather than on long-term
demographic dangers. His handling of the Jerusalem issue is a mixture of
religious-national vision and pragmatism. Although he was no longer a part
of the leadership elite, he endeavored to give the impression that he was still
in charge and that his views had to be taken into consideration.
On the second day of the war, he went to Jerusalem to speak with the
mayor, Teddy Kollek, and the minister of the Interior, Moshe Shapira,
112 Ben-Gurion’s involvement in the war
about, “the renewal of the Jewish Quarter in Jerusalem and filling the
empty [Arab] houses with Jews.” He was disappointed to learn that the
minister was in a meeting in Tel-Aviv, and could not meet with him. He con-
versed with Kollek and made an appointment to see Shapira the next day:
“I spoke with Teddy and stressed the urgency of action. Kollek promised
to bring the matter to the prime minister’s attention.”18
Apparently this answer did not satisfy Ben-Gurion. Eshkol reported to the
Mapai Secretariat on June 7 that Kollek had seen him along with Mordechai
Ish-Shalom (former mayor of Jerusalem) and informed him that they had
plans that required a quarter of a billion Israeli pounds for renovating
Jerusalem and moving Jews into the Old City.
Ben-Gurion was displeased with the artificial separation between the
“Old” and “New” City. “I said nothing about the Old City and the New
City,” he noted in his diary, “I spoke about ‘the internal city.’ I have one
city, now united – this is Jerusalem.”19
On the morning of June 8, the minister of the interior came to Ben-Gurion’s
home in Tel-Aviv. Ben-Gurion immediately voiced his concern that

We’ve already lost one day [in the resettling of the Old City] and in
these times we cannot waste even a single day. I don’t know if the war
is over, and there may be complications in this area too. In any case, we
have to strengthen the army’s victories and repopulate the ruins in the
Old City’s Jewish Quarter . . . with Jews as quickly as possible. If
the Arabs want to return to their houses we’ll give them homes in
New Jerusalem.20

Ben-Gurion wanted to speak with Dayan about this matter, but the
defense minister was in Jerusalem. The fighting was still raging, and
the defense minister stood in the eye of the hurricane and naturally had no
time for Ben-Gurion’s obsession regarding the Jewish settlement of the Old
City. Ben-Gurion next tried to see his old rival and new ally, Menachem
Begin, now a government minister who could “move” things, albeit up to
a point. Ben-Gurion wanted to broach a subject that was also close to Begin’s
heart – the resettlement of the Old City with Jews. To his chagrin Begin too
was unavailable.21
Therefore, the Old Man decided to see things for himself. He traveled to
the Old City that day, accompanied by IAF Generals Ezer Weizman and
Mordechai Hod. En route he was cheered by the troops. He arrived at the
Western Wall and suppressed any display of emotion. He noted in his diary
that he was surprised to discover “that from the time the Old City was
barred to us [in 1948] the [Jordanians] had erected buildings next to the
Western Wall. I was amazed that no order had been issued to demolish
these constructions.”22
As he approached the Wall he noticed a sign in Arabic and English
announcing that Mohammad and a band of angels had met on this spot.
Ben-Gurion’s involvement in the war 113
Ben-Gurion feared that an Islamic “presence” so close to the Western Wall
might bolster the “Arab claim” to Jerusalem. He told a group of soldiers
near him that, “the sign had to be erased without damaging the stones of
the Wall.” Ben-Gurion still projected authority even though he held no
official position. “One of the soldiers immediately picked up a stick and
began effacing the sign.”23
That evening Ben-Gurion returned to Tel-Aviv for a session with the Rafi
Secretariat. The issue on the agenda was the party’s return to Mapai. However,
another issue constantly occupied Ben-Gurion – Jerusalem. He delivered a
speech highly critical of the government’s failure to settle the city immediately:

We are now in control of Jerusalem and this is one of the greatest events
[in our history]. But they [the ministers] do not understand that if we
occupy Jerusalem, then something has to be done. One of the first
things is to build houses. I felt that I had to speak with the mayor of
Jerusalem and someone in the government. I wanted to speak with
Begin but couldn’t find him and I tried [meeting] Shapira. I talked to
Teddy [Kollek] who said that he’d be meeting with Eshkol and would
speak with him [about resettling the Old City]. I asked Shapira to meet
me this morning and he realized it was important. I told him that first
of all [we have to] establish a presence in Jerusalem, a large Jewish pres-
ence. [We have to] populate the Jewish Quarter immediately. If there
are empty Arab houses, we have to move Jews into them. The same is
true of Hebron. In our days, [the Arabs of] Hebron massacred the Jews
there. I am certain that in Israel’s current atmosphere there are [Jews
willing to live] there. [But] I don’t see anyone in the government willing
to carry this out.24

His diary entry for that day also reflects his frustration over the
government’s lack of policy for settling Jerusalem.

I do not know if the war is over, but we might lose politically what our
army has won for our people. I’m worried about Eban’s activity in the
UN. He must be brought back. I fear the government’s indecisiveness in
securing our military gains in Jerusalem, Hebron and the West Bank.
Rafi members in favor of reuniting [with Mapai] as a means of reme-
dying the situation must speak with Mapai members and find out
whether they are prepared to help us ensure that the government
secures the army’s achievements.25

On the night of June 8, Ben-Gurion met with a delegation of French public


figures, mostly de Gaulle supporters, headed by Edmund Rothschild. The
conversation revolved mainly around France’s Israel policy, especially General
de Gaulle’s. Ben-Gurion was asked if he was willing to go to France and meet
with de Gaulle in order to try to improve French–Israeli relations. However
114 Ben-Gurion’s involvement in the war
Ben-Gurion had other matters on his mind. Since his main concern was
Jerusalem, he made the best of this opportunity to ask whether his French lis-
teners “being Catholics, would object to the Old City remaining in Israel’s
hands.” Some of them, Ben-Gurion noted, “said they were not opposed.”26
Later that night, Ben-Gurion invited Shapira and Begin to his home. Not
only did Ben-Gurion forcefully assert his positions, but he also retained his
self-assigned status as a leader who beckons ministers to his home. The
significance of this is clearly reflected in his diary: “I invited Shapira and
Begin to see me.” For the first time Ben-Gurion set forth in the clearest of
terms his comprehensive plan for a postwar arrangement, though he
refused to go into all the details. Aware of the pressures that were sure to
mount, he said:

We must not budge from Jerusalem. We have to establish a large Jewish


presence inside [East Jerusalem] as quickly as possible. We also have to
build a Jewish settlement in Hebron. We must not hand back the West
Bank to Hussein even though annexing it to Israel means an addition
of million Arabs. This is a grave danger. There is also the problem of
the refugees in the Gaza Strip.27

In effect, Ben-Gurion avoided specifying any of his positions except, of


course, regarding Jerusalem. He noted that Begin wanted “to transfer the
Gaza refugees to El-Arish [northern Sinai] and leave them there.” Ben-Gurion
kept silent on this issue but expressed doubt that the refugees would agree to
this. Begin naturally demanded Israel’s retention of the entire West Bank.
Again, Ben-Gurion left his position hazy and preferred to discuss the politi-
cal struggle Israel would soon be facing. He reiterated that, “the two men
managing the struggle – Eshkol and Eban – were not suited [to the task].”28
However, Ben-Gurion’s attempt to undermine Eshkol’s status was a lost
cause. At this point, when triumph was within reach, it is difficult to imag-
ine that any responsible party would support the idea of deposing the prime
minister or foreign minister. Indeed, according to Ben-Gurion himself,
“From Shapira’s reaction it was clear that he had no wish to resume the
struggle against Eshkol. Begin remained silent.”29
On June 11, a small group of Ben-Gurion’s closest supporters – Dayan,
Peres, and Almogi – met at his home. Dayan stated his view on the nature
of the postwar arrangement: “Gaza’s refugees should be transferred to
Jordan; the West Bank should receive autonomy; and Jerusalem should be
left in our hands.” Ben-Gurion agreed with these arrangements in principle:

I told him [Dayan] that this was roughly my idea too, but that I foresaw
problems in transferring the Gaza refugees [to the West Bank]. As for
Sinai, I feel we have to insist on direct talks with Egypt. If Nasser
consents to peace and free navigation through the Straits of Tiran and
Suez Canal, then we’ll have to evacuate the Sinai Peninsula.30
Ben-Gurion’s involvement in the war 115
The next day, Ben-Gurion invited Kollek to his office in the Knesset. The
conversation focused on the future of Jerusalem and the steps the government
as well as the Jerusalem municipality had to take. Although Ben-Gurion was
in a lower executive position than the Jerusalem mayor, he treated Kollek like
a subordinate. Ben-Gurion recorded the main points of their parley:

I entered the [Knesset] dining hall for a meeting with Teddy. He was half
an hour late. I asked him what he had done to settle Jews in the Jewish
Quarter of the Old City. He told me that he had razed the buildings built
by the Arabs near the Western Wall [and] cleared the way via the Jaffa
Gate, but he had not begun settling Jews [in the Old City]. I greatly
regretted this and told [him] that he had to move quickly to settle Jews
in the Jewish Quarter, in every empty house . . . If the [Arab] residents
returned, they would have to be given homes in New Jerusalem. Teddy
told me that the Jewish Quarter had not been destroyed. Only the Hurva
Synagogue and other synagogues had been leveled [by the Jordanians].
But the Arabs had taken over the Jewish homes in the Jewish Quarter. I
said that they must be evacuated. He replied there was still no law [stat-
ing] that he was also the mayor of the Old City. I told him that no law
was necessary. Occupation was the most effective law.31

Kollek’s answers obviously did not satisfy Ben-Gurion so he decided to


take a first hand look at the situation. The next morning, June 13, he asked
General Chaim Herzog, who had been appointed governor of the city, to
allow him to visit the Old City, Bethlehem, and Hebron. Approval was given
and vehicles with a military escort were supplied. Ben-Gurion’s first stop was
the Jewish Quarter. He summed up his impressions in the following words:

We went first to the Jewish Quarter of Jerusalem. It turns out that it


was not destroyed but had been occupied by Arabs. In my opinion, it
is unsuitable for dwelling [by Jews] and should be leveled and rebuilt.
It is hard [to imagine] how people lived here twenty years ago – in
holes, narrow cellar[s], and two to three story buildings. I doubt that
those [Jews] who lived here [until 1948] would agree nowadays to
dwell in such gloomy dirty hovels.32

On the way to the Western Wall, he came upon a “disgraceful sight” as


he described it:

I saw people facing the wall as though they were urinating. I took a
second look at the men standing there and asked what this was all
about. I was told that there had been incidents in which the city’s
[Arab] population had attacked passers by [apparently Jews on their
way to the Western Wall]. [Therefore], they [the Arabs] had been
ordered to face the wall while our vehicle passed.
116 Ben-Gurion’s involvement in the war
Ben-Gurion was appalled: “It is impossible to shame and humiliate people
like that. It degrades us as well.” He also became furious when he saw
candles being lit at the Western Wall. He felt that this custom marred the
Wall and should be prohibited.33
The convoy proceeded to Mount Scopus where Ben-Gurion visited the
buildings of the Hebrew University that had remained an enclave inside the
Jordanian sector of Jerusalem after the War of Independence. He continued
to Bethlehem and stopped at Rachel’s Tomb. His next destination was the
Patriarch’s Tomb in Hebron. He noted that in the past Jews had been
allowed to ascend only 7 stairs, whereas now they could go up 30 steps. He
spent a long time pondering the burial place of the nation’s forefathers,
especially when he heard that Joseph might also be buried there.
Throughout his visit to the cave he cited biblical passages. Leaving Hebron
he made a brief stop at the Etzion Bloc that had fallen to the Jordanian
Legion during the War of Independence.34
Ben-Gurion must have connected the liberation of Jerusalem in the
Six-Day War to his disappointment at its division at the end of the War of
Independence. For nineteen years he had frequently expressed his deep
regret that the Old City and its vicinity had not been captured during the
War of Independence. He called this failure “the lament of generations” and
blamed Sharett for the mishap. Now, in 1967, his dream had come true.
A couple of months after the war, he declared:

The IDF’s victory in six magnificent amazing days is no small achieve-


ment, but this victory is the culmination of the victory of the fighters in
the War of Independence. On June 7, 1967, the Old City and its sur-
roundings were liberated. However, the struggle for Jerusalem did not
begin in the Six-Day War.35

On his return to Jerusalem, he sought another conversation with Mayor


Kollek. Ben-Gurion gave him explicit directions how to handle Jerusalem’s
affairs:

The [so called] “houses” in the Jewish Quarter must be razed, the inhab-
itants evacuated, new buildings constructed and repopulated with Jews.
If there are empty houses in other parts of the city – they too must be
populated with Jews. If the Arabs are evicted then they must be given
houses in New [Jewish] Jerusalem.36

After the Six-Day War, he repeatedly brought up the issue of government


activity in Jerusalem. His criticism appears most vitriolic at what he
defined as the government’s apathy toward the construction and develop-
ment of Jerusalem. His statements constitute a fascinating historical
account of the immediate postwar, and as such we shall present a few of
them verbatim.
Ben-Gurion’s involvement in the war 117
Approximately one month after the war, Ben-Gurion delivered one if his
most comprehensive views of the recent events:

Regarding Jerusalem, I don’t have to tell you that there is almost total
agreement over our keeping the entire city, the new and the old parts of
Jerusalem and its environs. No matter what the nations [international
community] say. But this is not enough. If we want to hold onto
Jerusalem, we cannot forever rely just on our military power. We have
to immediately settle close to one hundred thousand Jews in the Old
City and [the hills] surrounding Jerusalem, without deporting or evict-
ing a single Arab from Jerusalem . . . [This can be done] by transferring
a large part of our university to the place where it was established in
1925 – Mount Scopus . . . We have to establish big industries in the
Jerusalem area and bring in Jews from Israel and abroad to settle there.
Only then will Jerusalem be truly Jewish.37

In a speech before the Rafi Central Committee a few months after the
war, he declared:

I am going to sound skeptical, but it is about something that I feel very


deep about. If we do not build Jewish settlements in the Old City and
Jerusalem area, then I doubt that Old City will remain ours . . . The gov-
ernment has convened, and I’m not saying this as criticism, and passed
a resolution that Jerusalem is [a] united [city]. Only one Jerusalem exists
and is part of the State of Israel. I am happy about this . . . but it is talk
and not action . . . Three and a half months lapsed and nothing has been
done. I am very worried and cannot express the depth of my concern
that if in the very near future we do not establish Jewish settlements –
I’m referring to the Old City and the areas to the north, south and east
[of Jerusalem] – then there’s no certainty they’ll remain in our hands . . . I
would invest all my energy day and night to do every possible thing to
make Jerusalem Jewish . . . We shall not deport the Arabs, we are forbid-
den to deport even one Arab . . . We have suffered heavy casualties in the
battle for Jerusalem. I say we would be desecrating the names of these
heroes [if we fail to repopulate Jerusalem with thousands of Jews]. We
shall not be able to face their mothers. What did they fight for? What
did they sacrifice their lives for? . . . This government profanes the [mem-
ory] of the victims when it deals with matters [it considers] more impor-
tant [than the settlement of Jerusalem].38

In October 1967, Ben-Gurion wrote an article sharply criticizing “the


government’s shortcomings” in building up Jerusalem and other areas
captured in the Six-Day War:

It’s been months since the Six-Day War in which our finest boys gave
their lives for Israel’s security and future. Yet a campaign is going
on between two trends in Israel’s intelligentsia. On one side are the
118 Ben-Gurion’s involvement in the war
“progressives and moralizers” who demand [our] withdrawal from all
the territories from which the enemy’s armies fled following their abject
defeat in the war they conspired against us. On the other side there are
the do-nothing [so-called] trustees of tradition who zealously preach
for “Greater Israel.” They are armed with quotations from the Bible
and Talmud. They are the most bombastic speakers in our time. They
dwell here, but are so disconnected from current events that in reality
they don’t dwell among us. The National Unity Government, formed
one week before the Six-Day War, stands in the center of this mighty
clash in artful neutrality. It has declared that the Old City is now an
integral part of Jerusalem [and] the capital of Israel. But this govern-
ment has done nothing till now to change the status quo in which West
Jerusalem is almost totally inhabited by Jews . . . and the Old City . . . by
Arabs . . . No real step has been taken to do what should have been done
and needs to be done in the Old City and its environs – to set up Jewish
neighborhoods inside the Old City and to the north, east, and south of
it. Thirty years ago, during British Mandate rule, new settlements were
established overnight in the face of the regime. These were the “stock-
ade and tower” settlements that played a major, if not decisive, role in
the first attempt to declare statehood . . . Empty patriotic rhetoric . . . will
not ensure our moral and historic right to amend the countless injus-
tices that our woeful history has brought upon us during [the centuries
of] our exile.39

Nearly seven months after the war, at a gathering of the Hebrew


University’s Board of Governors, Ben-Gurion repeated this theme:

The grave error made over the last seven months since the liberation of
Jerusalem – is that parts of the Hebrew University were not immedi-
ately transferred to Mount Scopus, especially the humanities depart-
ments that do not require laboratories. It is unnecessary to wait until
spacious apartments are built . . . Military victory alone does not secure
the fruits of victory. Only the deeds that come in its wake ensure it. Not
only the West Bank and Golan Heights are still unsettled but also
Jerusalem. Massive settlements encompassing the Old City – in the
north, east and south – will safeguard Jerusalem and enhance the uni-
versity’s prestige in Israel and the world over. Thousands of students
and hundreds of professors must be relocated to the Mt. Scopus cam-
pus immediately.40
Summary

The events preceding the Six-Day War caught Ben-Gurion, like the majority
of Israelis, by surprise. During the waiting period, prior to the hostilities, he
paid little attention to daily security issues. It is doubtful that he believed
the frequent flare-ups on the northern border would lead to an all-out war
in the Middle East. His rare statements on security issues were scathing
disapprovals of what he termed “the security blunder.” Although he
avoided specifying what he meant, it was clear that he vigorously objected
to Eshkol’s policy on the Dimona Project.
In the years before the Six-Day War, Ben-Gurion had been totally
immersed in a smear campaign against Levi Eshkol – his successor to the
offices of prime minister and defense minister. The scholar who traces
Ben-Gurion’s positions on this issue finds it difficult to fathom the depth of
his hostility, almost abhorrence, toward Eshkol.
Many questions surround Ben-Gurion’s impassioned fulminations. We
shall mention only a few. Did Ben-Gurion really believe that it was possible
to “get to the truth” of the “Lavon Affair?” Was the criticism of Eshkol an
expression of his angst at resigning from premiership and ambition at retun-
ing to power? To what extent was his attitude toward Eshkol influenced by
his health and old age?
When the Six-Day War broke out, Ben-Gurion displayed one of his
outstanding leadership skills – the ability to form an independent situation
assessment. He did this without any ties to the so-called experts. Especially
noteworthy is his evaluation of Nasser’s motives for initiating and handling
the crisis. This is all the more remarkable considering Ben-Gurion’s distance
from the stream of information on daily security matters.
During the waiting period he advised caution and restraint. More than
any other political-security figure, he sternly warned against an Israeli
preemptive strike against the Arab states, especially Egypt. He opposed
this tactic even though it was enthusiastically supported by the IDF high
command and members of his own political party who were personally
close to him.
After Israel’s devastating air strikes, it became clear that he had exaggerated
the price Israel would have to pay for initiating military operations. Today
120 Summary
however, almost four decades after the dazzling victory of the Six-Day War,
a number of questions still linger. Was the total cost of the war, in both the
long and short-run, worth it? Would it not have been better to “go the extra
mile” and try to reach a political arrangement even at a substantial loss of
territorial assets and prestige?
In summary, the outbreak of the Six-Day War cannot be separated from
Israel’s escalative policy towards Syria in the months which preceded the
war. We believe that this policy was chosen in light of Syria’s strident mili-
tancy and the fear that the region’s status quo, following the Sinai Campaign,
was likely to be disrupted. It should be emphasized that the status quo was
of vital interest to Israel and other states in the region.
For reasons still not clear (perhaps the military’s last minute reluctance to
“go to the edge” or the political level’s unwillingness to back the army’s
aggressive plans) the escalation policy fell short of the goal intended by its
initiators led by Yitzhak Rabin.
In reality, political-security developments turned out completely different
from what was anticipated. Syria, that had been the cause of the security
deterioration, quit the game on the eve of the war. Egypt and Jordan took
its place, probably unintentionally, and both suffered the hardest in Israel’s
opening attack. Only in the final stages of the war did Israel, almost unwill-
ingly, decide to storm Syria. In retrospect, when the aftershocks of the Six-
Day War are still rumbling in the region, a key question remains. If Israel
had concentrated its bold, far-reaching escalation policy solely against
Syria, could it have halted the deterioration that led to the all-out war?
Notes

1 Ben-Gurion–Eshkol: initial frictions


1 On Ben-Gurion’s resignation see: Ben-Gurion’s Diary (hereafter: BGD), June
16, 1963, Ben-Gurion Archives (hereafter: BGA).
2 BGD, June 16, 1963, BGA.
3 Ben-Gurion’s letter to Golda Meir, January 29, 1969, BGA.
4 Eshkol too was apparently surprised by Ben-Gurion’s resignation. See BGD,
June 16, 1963, BGA.
5 BGD, June 17, 1963, BGA.
6 Ibid.
7 Mapai Central Committee, June 18, 1963, Labor Movement Archives
(hereafter: LMA).
8 Protocols of Meeting, June 28, 1963, BGA.
9 Ben-Gurion’s letter to Golda, January 29, 1969, BGA.
10 Mapai Political Committee, November 2, 1953, LMA, Beit Berl.
11 BGD, June 19, 1963, BGA.
12 BGD, June 17, 1963, BGA.
13 BGD, June 23, 1963, BGA.
14 Ibid.
15 BGD, July 31, 1963, BGA.
16 BGD, September 26, 1963, BGA.
17 BGD, September 29, 1963, BGA.
18 Ibid.
19 BGD, October 17, 1963 and November 7, 1963, BGA. See also: BGD, January 6,
1964, BGA.
20 BGD, July 31, 1963, BGA.
21 BGD, November 25, 1963, BGA.
22 Ben-Gurion’s letter to Ezer Weizman, Correspondence File, April 27, 1966, BGA.
23 BGD, November 25, 1963, BGA.
24 BGD, January 21, 1964, BGA.
25 BGD, July 31, 1963, BGA.
26 Minutes of meeting between Prime Minister Levi Eshkol and Ari Jabotinsky,
March 30–31, 1964, Meetings File, BGA.
27 BGD, March 15, 1964, BGA.
28 BGD, March 16, 1964, BGA.
29 BGD, May 28, 1964, BGA.
30 Ben-Gurion’s letter to Eshkol, October 20, 1964, Unit 15, Galili, Box 143, File
1, Document 7, Yad Tabenkin Archive.
31 See Zaki Shalom, “Sharett’s Resignation from Government (June 1956) –
Personal and Political Aspects,” in Hazionut, 20, 1996, pp. 259–289.
122 Notes
2 The Lavon Affair
1 See Special Intelligence Report on the significance of the Suez evacuation,
September 20, 1954, File 636/56/30, IDF Archives.
2 See letter from Avraham Dar to Prime Minister Levi Eshkol, December 25,
1967, Israel State Archives (hereafter: ISA).
3 Ibid.
4 Avraham Dar’s letter to Chief of Staff Yitzhak Rabin, May 30, 1967, File
4096/1, ISA.
5 Avraham Dar’s letter to Meir Amit, August 29, 1967, File 4096/1, ISA.
6 Avraham Dar’s letter to Prime Minister, September 27, 1967, File 4096/1, ISA.
7 Secretary of State Memorandum, March 2, 1961, NND 95937, United States
National Archives.
8 BGD, June 30, 1958, BGA.
9 BGD, May 5, 1960, BGA.
10 BGD, October 10, 1960, BGA.
11 BGD, October 6, 1960, BGA.
12 David Ben-Gurion, “The Truth of the Matter,” April 6, 1966, Speeches and
Essays File, and BGD, January 1, 1960, BGA.
13 BGD, May 15, 1961, BGA.
14 Prime Minister’s Office Memorandum, February 14, 1965, 6398/3991, ISA.
15 See Ben-Gurion’s speech, May 17, 1966, Speeches and Essays File, BGA.
16 Ibid.
17 Ben-Gurion’s letter to Golda Meir, January 29, 1967, Correspondence File, BGA.
18 BGD, May 5, 1961, BGA.
19 Ben-Gurion’s letter to the editor of Yediot Ahronot, January 6, 1969,
Correspondence File, BGA.
20 BGD, November 9, 1964, BGA.
21 BGD, August 12, 1961, BGA.
22 For more information on Sharett’s dismissal, see Zaki Shalom, “Sharett’s
Resignation from Government (June 1956) – Personal and Political Aspects,”
Hazionut, 20, 1996, pp. 259–289.
23 See Amos Carmel, It’s All politics: A Lexicon of Israeli Politics, Vol. II (Dvir
Publications, Tel-Aviv, 2001), p. 707.
24 BGD, August 16, 1961, BGA.
25 Ben-Gurion’s letter to Golda Meir, January 29, 1969, Correspondence File,
BGA.
26 BGD, May 12, 1965, BGA.
27 Memorandum, Prime Minister’s Office, February 14, 1965, 6398/3991, ISA.
28 Eshkol’s letter, February 14, 1965 (see n. 39).
29 Eshkol letter to members of Mapai, February 14, 1965, LMA.
30 Ibid.
31 Ibid.
32 Ibid.
33 Letter to Eli Sagi, January 10, 1966, Correspondence File, BGA.
34 K. Shabtai, “I Asked David Ben-Gurion,” Mabat Hadash (a political weekly),
October 12, 1966, p. 17.
35 BGD, February 22, 1967, BGA. See also: BGD, September 17, 1965, BGA.

3 The Dimona and Ben-Barka affairs


1 New Outlook, November 22, 1967, p. 2.
2 Eshkol’s speech at Mapai’s Secretariat, June 8, 1967, 2–24–1964–1990, Lavon
Archives.
Notes 123
3 Ben-Gurion’s letter to Yehuda Gotthalf, February 25, 1968, Correspondence
File, BGA.
4 Ibid.
5 Ben-Gurion’s letter to Yehuda Gotthalf, March 8, 1968, Correspondence File, BGA.
6 See State Department Memorandum, May 30, 1961, NND 989509, Box 1,
United States National Archives.
7 The Prime Minister’s meeting with the Editors, March 31, 1963, Minutes File, BGA.
8 Foreign Ministry Memorandum, July 5, 1963, Hetz Aleph/5/7233, ISA.
9 Ibid.
10 Ibid.
11 Foreign Ministry Report to Israeli Embassy in the United States, July 8, 1963,
3377/19 Hetz, ISA.
12 Israeli Foreign Ministry Report to Israeli Embassy in United States, July 17,
1963, Hetz Aleph/7233/5, ISA.
13 Foreign Ministry Reports to Israeli Embassy in United States, July 8 and 17,
1963, Hetz Aleph/ 7233/5, ISA.
14 Prime Minister’s Message to President Kennedy, August 19, 1963, Aleph/
7233/5, ISA.
15 Foreign Ministry Memo, August 27, 1963, 7233/5A, ISA.
16 FRUS 1964–1968, Vol. XVIII, p. 36.
17 Israeli Embassy in the US Report to Foreign Ministry, March 10, 1964, Hetz
3502/11, ISA.
18 Israeli Foreign Ministry Memorandum, March 3, 1964, Hetz 3502/11, ISA.
19 Israeli Embassy in the US Report to Foreign Ministry, March 10, 1964, Hetz
3502/11, ISA.
20 Israeli Foreign Ministry Memorandum, March 3, 1964, Hetz 3501/13, ISA.
21 Israeli Foreign Ministry Memorandum, June 9, 1964, Hetz 5301/13, ISA. State
Archives.
22 US State Department Memo, June 2, 1964, NND 969000, Box 181, NA.
23 Israeli Foreign Ministry Memorandum, June 1, 1964, Hetz 5301/13, ISA. State
Archives.
24 Ibid.
25 Israeli Foreign Ministry Memorandum, June 2, 1964, Hetz 5301/13, ISA.
26 Ibid.
27 Israeli Foreign Ministry Memorandum, June 9, 1964, Hetz 5301/13, ISA.
28 US Embassy in Israel Report to State Department, February 26, 1965, NND
969000, Box 1650, NA.
29 Israeli Foreign Ministry Memorandum, March 10, 1965, Hetz 3501/17, ISA.
30 US Embassy in Israel Report to State Department, January 27, 1966, NND
9590001, NA.
31 Ibid.
32 Ibid.
33 Yosef Evron, “An Interview with David Ben-Gurion,” Mabat Hadash, May 10,
1967, p. 7.
34 Israeli Embassy in US Report to Foreign Office, March 21, 1965, Hetz 3501/17, ISA.
35 Israeli Embassy in the United States Report to Israeli Foreign Ministry, August 4,
1965, Hetz 3501/20, ISA.
36 Ibid.
37 State Department Memorandum, August 3, 1965, NND 959000, Box 1644,
United States National Archives.
38 Israeli Foreign Ministry Memorandum, August 10, 1965, Hetz 3501/20, ISA.
39 Ibid.
40 Ha’aretz, April 15, 1966.
41 Ibid.
124 Notes
42 Report by Moshe Bitan to Israeli Foreign Minister, February 7, 1967, Hetz
3975/17, ISA.
43 On the rivalry between the two men, see Meir Amit, Head to Head, Yediot
Ahronot (Tel-Aviv, 1999) (Hebrew).
44 Ben-Gurion’s letter to Golda Meir, January 29, 1965, Correspondence File, BGA.
45 Rafi Meeting, May 21, 1967, LMA.
46 Ben-Gurion’s letter to Binyamin Nahari, January 14, 1968, Correspondence
File, BGA.
47 Ben-Gurion’s letter to David Golomb, December 12, 1968, Correspondence
File, BGA.
48 Meeting of Mapai’s Secretariat, June 1, 1967, 2–24–1967–1990, LMA.
49 Meeting of the Rafi Faction, May 21, 1967, LMA.

4 The split with Mapai: the founding of Rafi


1 BGD, August 9, 1965, BGA.
2 Ibid.
3 Ibid.
4 Ibid.
5 Conversation of Rafi with Ben-Gurion, January 8, 1967, Protocols of Meetings
File, BGA.
6 Ibid.
7 Rafi Center, January 19, 1967, File 5–4–1967–29, LMA.
8 Ben-Gurion’s letter to Golda Meir, January 19, 1967, File 29–1967–4–5 1967, LMA.
9 Ben-Gurion’s letter to Shaul Avigur, May 2, 1966, BGA.
10 BGD, March 10, 1965, BGA.
11 Ben-Gurion’s letter to Davar Editors, Protocol File, May 14, 1965, BGA.
12 BGD, April 19, 1966, BGA.
13 Matti Golan, Peres (Schocken, Jerusalem, 1982), p. 135 (Hebrew).
14 Carmel, “Everything is Political,” p. 1151.
15 BGD, May 12, 1965, BGA.
16 Ibid.
17 Meeting of Rafi Central Committee, September 25, 1967, LMA.
18 Shimon Peres letter to the Defense Minister (no date), File 7224/47/A, ISA.
19 Shimon Peres speech at Rafi Central Committee, September 28, 1967, LMA.
20 Interview with Avraham Wolfensohn, Tel-Aviv, September 2, 1999.
21 Matti Golan, Peres (Schocken, Jerusalem, 1982), p. 136.
22 See “Returning to the House on the Boulevard,” Maariv, January 30, 1987, p. 2.

5 The road to the Six-Day War


1 US Embassy in Israel Report to State Department, November 4, 1966, NND
959000, Box 2683, NA.
2 Edgar O’Balance, The Third Arab–Israeli War, Faber & Faber, London, 1972,
pp. 18–20.
3 Zaki Shalom, “A Missed Opportunity? The Attempt to Make Direct Contact
between Israel and Egypt on the Eve of the Six-Day War,” Hazionut, 22, June
2000, 321–354 (Hebrew).
4 See Israeli Foreign Ministry Memorandum, Meeting in Meir Amit’s Home,
November 27, 1966, FGN 4091/19, ISA.
5 See Meir Amit, “Secret Contacts Toward Peace: A Missed Opportunity,” in Hezi
Carmel (ed.), Intelligence for Peace: The Role of Intelligence in the Era of Peace
(Yediot Ahronot, Sifrei Hemed, 1998), p. 308 (Hebrew).
6 See David Shacham, Israel – Forty Years (Am Oved, Tel-Aviv, 1991), p. 235
(Hebrew).
Notes 125
7 See Foreign Ministry Memorandum “American Security Guarantees to Israel,”
September 20, 1962, FGN 3377/9, ISA.
8 British Foreign Office, February 4, 1967, FCO 17/231, EJ 3/1, PRO.
9 British Embassy in Amman Report to British Foreign Office, May 24, 1967,
FCO 17/234, EJ 3/4, PRO.
10 US Embassy in Israel to State Department, October 26, 1965, NND 959000,
Box 1643, NA.
11 Israeli Government Spokesman Bulletin, November 20, 1966, File 1, Yad Eshkol
Archive.
12 FRUS, Vol. XVIII, p. 677.
13 Prime Minister’s Office Memo, November 13, 1966, Division 15, File 82, KMA,
YAD Tabenkin.
14 Israeli Embassy in the US to Foreign Ministry, November 16, 1966, Hetz
4030/6, ISA.
15 See White House Memorandum, November 24, 1966, NSF, Country File Israel,
Vol. 6, Box 140, Lyndon B. Johnson Library.
16 White House Memo, November 24, 1966, NSP Country File, Vol. 6, Box 140, LJL.
17 Ibid.
18 US Embassy in Israel Report to State Department, November 21, 1966, NND
959000, NA.
19 United States Embassy in Israel Report to State Department, November 21,
1966, NND 959000, National Archives of the United States.
20 US Embassy in Israel to State Department, November 21, 1966, NND 959000, NA.
21 Prime Minister Office Memorandum, December 15, 1966, Aleph/10/7227,
ISA.
22 See Yoel Nir, “Events in the North,” Mabat Hadash, A Political Weekly, August 3,
1966, p. 12.
23 Matityahu Maizel, The Campaign for the Golan, June 1967 (Ma’arachot,
Defense Ministry, 2001), p. 25 (Hebrew).
24 Ibid.
25 Ibid., p. 26.
26 Report of the US Embassy in Israel to State Department, February 8, 1965,
NND 959000, Box 1650, National Archives of the United States.
27 US Embassy in Israel Report to State Department, February 8, 1965, NND
959000, Box 1650, NA.
28 US Embassy in Syria Report to State Department, May 17, 1966, NND 959000,
Box 1890, NA.
29 Israeli Foreign Ministry Report to Israel Embassy in United States, March 19,
1967, FGN 3975/17, ISA.
30 Ibid.
31 Israeli Foreign Ministry Report to Israel Embassy in United States, April 12,
1967, FGN 4046/2, ISA.
32 Israeli Foreign Ministry Memorandum, no date, “The World Press about Syrian
Aggression on the Northern Border,” Gimmel /6387/3704, ISA.
33 See Moshe Dayan, Story of My Life (Idanim, Jerusalem 1976), p. 399 (Hebrew).

6 Criticism of the defense policy


1 Rafi Meeting, May 21, 1967, LMA.
2 Ibid.
3 Ben-Gurion’s Letter to Maj. Gen. Morderchai Hod, April 8, 1967,
Correspondence File, BGA.
4 The author’s conversation with Chaim Israeli, May 16, 1999, Tel-Aviv.
5 Yitzhak Rabin, Pinkas Sherut, Vol. 1 (Sifriat Maariv, 1979), p. 150 (Hebrew).
6 Ibid.
126 Notes
7 Yitzhak Rabin, Pinkas Sherut, Vol 1 (Sifriat Maariv, 1979), p. 150 (Hebrew).
8 Minutes of Rafi Meeting, May 21, 1967, LMA.
9 Ibid.
10 Ibid.
11 Minutes of Rafi Secretariat Meeting, June 13, 1967, LMA
12 Ibid.
13 Minutes of Rafi Faction Meeting, May 21, 1967, LMA.
14 US Embassy in Israel Report to State Department, January 12, 1965, NND
959000, Box 1643, NA.
15 US Embassy in Israel Report to State Department, February 2, 1965, NND
959000, Box 1643, NA.
16 Avner Yaniv, Politics and Strategy in Israel (Sifriat Poalim, Tel-Aviv, 1994),
pp. 200–201 (Hebrew).
17 Ephraim Reiner, “War Enforced by War,” Hotam, February 1, 1967.
18 Ibid.
19 Ya’akov Hazan, Meeting of Mapam’s Political Committee, October 13, 1966,
(1).121.90, Hashomer Hatzair Archives (hereafter: HHA).
20 Ibid.
21 A. Ben Asher, “The Right Choice,” Hotam, September 28, 1966, Al
Hamishmar.
22 Meeting of Mapam’s Political Committee, October 10, 1966, (1).121.90, HHA.
23 Ibid.
24 Ibid.
25 Meeting of Mapam’s Political Committee, May 18, 1967, (1).121.90, HHA.
26 Meeting of Mapam’s Political Committee, October 10, 1966, (1).121.90, HHA.
27 Meeting of Mapam’s Political Committee, May 18, 1967, (1).122.90, HHA.

7 Ben-Gurion confronts the war


1 See “History, The Six-Day War – The Campaign on the Egyptian Front,” IDF
Operations Branch, December 1971, p. 83 (Hebrew).
2 See United States Embassy in Egypt Report to United States State Department,
May 29, 1967, NND 969000, Box 2487, National Archives of the United States
(hereafter: NAUS).
3 CIA Memorandum, June 1, 1967, NSF, NSC Histories, Middle East Crisis,
May 12–June 19, 1967, Vol. 8, Box 20, LBJ Library.
4 State Department Memo, May 19, 1967, NND 969000, Box 1798, NA.
5 British Embassy in Egypt to British Foreign Office, May 17, 1967, FCO 39/265,
VK 3/16, PRO.
6 Mahmoud Riad, The Struggle for Peace in the Middle East (Quartet Books,
London, 1981), pp. 14–20.
7 US Embassy in Egypt Report to State Department, May 23, 1967, NND
969000, Box 1795, NA.
8 US Embassy in Egypt to State Department, March 5, 1967, NND 969000, Box
2490, NA.
9 Ibid.
10 See Meeting between Nasser and Anderson, United States Embassy in Egypt
Report to United States State Department, June 2, 1967, NND 969000, Box
1816, United States National Archives.
11 US State Department Memo, May 28, 1967, NND 969000, Box 1793, NA.
12 US Embassy Report to State Department, May 26, 1967, NND 969000, Box
1795, NA.
13 Minutes of Rafi Meeting, May 21, 1967, LMA, Beit Berl.
Notes 127
14 Ibid.
15 BGD, May 26, 1967, BGA.
16 Ibid.
17 Moshe Dayan, nei Derech: An Autobiography (Idanim Press, Jerusalem, 1976),
pp. 410–411 (Hebrew).
18 Ibid.
19 Rafi Meeting in the Knesset, May 21, 1967, LMA.
20 Eshkol’s speech to Mapai Secretariat, June 8, 1967, 2–24–1964–90, LMA.
21 Rafi Meeting, May 29, 1967, BGA.
22 BGD, May 27, 1967, BGA.
23 BGD, May 28, 1967, BGA Minutes of Rafi meeting, June 1, 1967, LMA.
24 Eitan Haber, The Day War Broke Out, p. 221.
25 BGD, June 4, 1967, BGA.
26 BGD, June 5, 1967, BGA. See also: General Staff and Intelligence Branch
Memorandum, June 8, 1967, HZ 12/4087, ISA.
27 BGD, June 5, 1967, BGA.
28 See President Johnson’s message to President Nasser, June 4, 1967, NND
969000, Box 2521, NAUS.
29 Rafi Meeting, May 21, 1967, LMA.
30 Ibid.
31 Rafi Meeting, May 29, 1967, LMA.
32 Speeches File, March 2, 1958, BGA.
33 US Embassy in Israel Report to US State Department, May 19, 1967, NND
969000, Box 1796, NAUS.

8 Ben-Gurion’s involvement in the war


1 BGD, June 5, 1967, BGA.
2 Ibid.
3 Ben-Gurion’s letter to Yosef Weiz, June 12, 1967, Correspondence File, BGA.
4 BGD, June 6, 1967, BGA.
5 Ibid.
6 BGD, June 7, 1967, BGA.
7 Eshkol’s speech before Mapai Secretariat, June 8, 1967, 2–24–1964–90, LMA.
8 BGD, June 9, 1967, BGA.
9 Ibid.
10 Rafi Secretariat, June 8, 1967, LMA.
11 BGD, June 10, 1967, BGA.
12 Report by the United States Embassy in Israel to the United States State
Department, June 8, 1967, NSF Middle East Crisis, Vol. IV, Box 107, Lyndon
Johnson Archives.
13 Report by Foreign Ministry to Israeli Delegation to the UN, June 11, 1967,
4086/6, ISA.
14 BGD, June 11, 1967, BGA.
15 BGD, June 7, 1967, BGA.
16 Eshkol’s Speech before the Mapai Secretariat, June 8, 1967, 2–24–1964–90, LMA.
17 Mapai Secretariat, June 14, 1967, File 2–24–1967–91, LMA.
18 BGD, June 7, 1967, BGA.
19 Eshkol’s Speech before the Mapai Secretariat, June 8, 1967, 2–24–1964–90, LMA.
20 BGD, June 8, 1967, BGA.
21 Ben-Gurion Memorandum, June 10, 1967, General File, BGA.
22 Ibid.
23 BGD, June 8, 1967, BGA.
128 Notes
24 Rafi Secretariat, June 8, 1967, LMA.
25 Ibid.
26 Ibid.
27 Ibid.
28 Ibid.
29 Ibid.
30 BGD, June 11, 1967, BGA.
31 BGD, June 12, 1967, BGA.
32 BGD, June 13, 1967, BGA.
33 Ibid.
34 Ibid.
35 Ben-Gurion Speech, August 14, 1967, Speeches File, BGA.
36 BGD, June 13, 1967, BGA.
37 Speeches File, July 12, 1967, BGA.
38 Ben-Gurion’s Speech before Rafi Secretariat, September 24, 1967, File
4–1967–28–Z, Labor Party Archives.
39 Ben-Gurion’s Letter, Correspondence File, October 18, 1967, BGA.
40 Ben-Gurion’s Letter, Correspondence File, June 12, 1967 and January 22,
1968, BGA.
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New Outlook
Index

Achdut Ha’avoda party 9, 19, 28, 40; Arab–Israeli confrontation 86, 103;
and Mapam coalition 16, 60 low-intensity conflict 4, 67;
Adenauer, Chancellor 17, 20 reduction in hostilities against Israel
“Affair Prisoners” see Lavon Affair after Sinai Campaign 67; total
Ahronot, Yediot 124 n.43, 124 n.5 rejection of any “Jewish entity” in
Algeria 56; anti-French uprising in 7 Middle East 1
Al Hamishmar 87 Arab–Israeli reconciliation 69
Alignment (Ma’arach), headed by Aranne, Zalman 13, 16
Eshkol 64 Argov, Shlomo 76
Allon, Yigal 9, 40 Atherton, Roy 78
Almogi, Yosef 102, 107, 114 Avigur, Shaul 57, 59, 124 n.9
Alterman, Nathan 97 Ayalon, David 68
Amar, Field Marshal, Egypt’s defense Azar, Moshe 23
minister 67, 93
America/n: negotiations between Israel Ba’ath regime in Syria 65, 66, 83, 86
and Egypt mediated by 24; Bamachane 75
political-security thinking 48; Barbour, Walworth, US Ambassador to
position on tension with Syria 78; Israel 50, 51, 76, 78; visit to Israel’s
Sixth Fleet stationed in Mediterranean northern border 77
95; weaknesses, three main 48; Barkat, Reuven 16; secretary of
see also United States; Washington Mapai 18
American–Israeli relations 49; Bar-Lev, Chaim 19
endangering support for 41; Battle, Lucius 77
friendship for 53; representatives Beer-Sheva 52
visiting Dimona reactor 39, 50; Begin, Menachem 5, 21, 112, 114
security guarantees 49, 51; talks on Beit Shan Valley 66
inspection issue 50 Ben Asher, A. 126 n.21
Amit, Meir, Head of Mossad 25, 53, Ben-Barka, Mehdi 53
54, 122 n.5, 124 n.5; proposed trip Ben-Barka Affair 53–56; as “security
to Egypt 67, 68 blunder” 53
Anderson, Robert 94 Ben-David, Haim 27
Anglo-Egyptian Agreement 23 Ben-Gurion, David 5; Adenauer
April 7 aerial incident see Syria meeting, aborted 17–22; alienation
Arab/s: antagonism 43; Chiefs of Staff from Mapai’s leadership 22;
Conference in Cairo 65; infiltration 3; Arab–Israeli conflict, views on nature
plan for diverting sources of Jordan of 3; authoritarian and unbending
River into Arab areas 65, 85; resolve personality 62; charges of “security
to challenge postwar reality 4; incompetence” regarding nuclear
Summit meeting in Cairo 65 option 52; clear-cut statements on
136 Index
Ben-Gurion, David (Continued) Chuvakhin, Soviet Ambassador to
defense issues 6; demand for judicial Israel 110
inquiry 32; eventual split with party CIA 95
10; exile 5; fluctuating positions Civil–military relations in democracy,
96–105; France, Israel’s reliance on proper 88
56; involvement in war 106; on Committee of Seven see Lavon Affair
Jerusalem’s liberation in Six-Day War Conference of the Heads of African
116–118; leadership skills 119; States in Kinshasa 95
major political decisions 1; new Cuba 39; Soviet activity inside 76
government 6; nuclear option of
Israel, views on I 49; political power Dan River, source of 65
9, 16; Prime Minister 39; protégés Dar, Avraham 24, 25, 121 n.2,
of 16; and Rafi’s criticism 79–86; 122 nn.4–6
resignation 9, 12–17, 31, 121 n.1; Dassa, Robert 24
return to leadership 26; senior IDF Davar 37, 38
promotions 19; silence on Samu Dayan, Moshe, General and Defense
Operation 80; Tel-Aviv 107; visit to Minister 2, 3, 9, 16, 26, 36, 56, 64,
Israeli Air Force’s (IAF) “pit” at 80, 83, 85, 98, 103, 104, 106, 107,
GHQ 106; war, view of 92; war’s 109, 114, 125 n.33, 127 n.17;
gains, strengthening of 110–118; autobiography, Story of My Life
written code 15 98; security establishment’s
Ben-Gurion and Eshkol: accusation of shortcomings 84; strategic
government of yielding ground to concept 4; “working plan” 3
Americans 48; allegation of Defense policy, criticism of 79
“security incompetence” 37, 38, 52; De Gaulle, Charles, President 21, 55,
Ben-Barka Affair, criticism of role 113; France’s relations with Arab
in 54; campaign against 22, 23, 36, world 56; supporters 113
49, 79, 80, 114; campaign against Demilitarization of Sinai 7
government 79; charge of grave Demilitarized zones 66
“security blunder” 37; ingratitude of Desert kibbutz of Sede-Boker 5
15; initial frictions 12; motives for Dimona Affair 36, 45
attacks on 55; support as Dimona nuclear reactor 38, 43
heir-designate 15, 16; tension Dimona Project 10, 40, 46; American
between 17, 61, 64 officials, frequent inspections by 49;
Ben-Yosef, Asher 57 American request to assure President
Bergmann, Ernest David 52 Nasser about activity at 43;
Bethlehem 115, 116 Ben-Gurion’s “willingness” to agree
Binnet, Max 23 to “periodic visits” to 41; for
Bitan, Moshe 124 n.42 industrial and economic needs 39;
Blockade of straits see Straits of Tiran inspections at 40, 48; Kennedy’s
Border tensions 4, 74; Egypt 67; message to Eshkol 41; lack of broad
Jordan 8, 71; Syria 70, 79–81, 87 support for 41; reaffirming nature
Bourghiba, Habib, president of and aims of 42
Tunisia 69 Dori, Ya’acov 36, 37
Brazil 92; regiment in Gaza strip 93
British Mandate, struggle against 1 Eban, Abba, Foreign Minister
British withdrawal from Egypt 23 85, 114; mission to Western
Bull, Odd, General 110 capitals 100
Egypt 96, 120; air strike 105; army
Canada 92; regiment in Sinai 93 deployed in Sinai 96; avoiding
Carmel, Amos 122 n.23 military confrontation with Israel 94;
Carmel, Hezi 124 n.5 blockade of Straits of Tiran 84, 95;
Carmon, David, Colonel 68 Czech arms deal 6; desire for
Castro, Fidel 39 peaceful status quo with Israel 68;
Index 137
espionage operation by Israel 23; maneuvering position vis-à-vis 52;
intelligence fiasco in 28; Israeli see also Ben-Barka Affair; Ben-Gurion
military clash 83; Israeli relations and Eshkol; Lavon Affair
68, 91; Jewish community in 23; Espionage operation in Egypt 23
military inferiority vis-à-vis Israel Ethiopia 69
67; missile systems, development of Etzel 1
45; motive for demanding removal Etzion Bloc 116
of UN forces 93; negotiations, European Jewry, attempts to rescue 1
opportunity for direct, high-level Evron 50
68; non-conventional capability
103; nuclear activity 43; nuclear “Fatah Organization,” Palestinian 65
capability 46; objective situation 67; Fawzi, chief of staff, General 93
peace agreement 51; political France: deterioration of Israeli relations
status 23; POWs (Prisoners of War) 54; involvement in Sinai Campaign
24; reduction in hostilities by 8; 56; Israel policy 113; and Israel
Sharm al-Sheikh, control of 94; relations 8, 54, 55, 114; long-range
show of military might 92; Sinai, missiles that Israel was about to
forces in 81, 92; Soviet bloc, arms receive from 45; nuclear program
deal between 6; spy ring in 24, 25; 50; relations with Arab world 56;
Syria, commitment to 69; Syria transfer of reactor’s operation to
Ba’ath regime, full recognition of 66; Israel 43; willingness to supply Israel
unconventional weapons 83; with arms 6
see also Nasser, President
Eilat, Israel’s Red Sea port of 94; to Galilee, Israel 9
Sharm-el-Sheikh, land-bridge Galilee, Sea of 65, 66
linking 7 Galili, Israel 40
Eisenstadt, Shmuel 68 Gavish, Yeshayahu, General 92
Elazar, David, Major General 77 Gaza Strip 93; armed infiltration from
Elections, national, in Israel 5, 31, 54; 97; Israel partial control over 7;
Rafi in 11, 64 regugees in 111, 114; Swedish,
Eretz Israel 107 Brazilian and Indian regiments
Eshkol, Levi 2, 9, 10, 11, 13, 14, 15, deployed in 93
16, 18, 28, 111, 114; alleged Gazit, Mordechai 46, 50, 68; report 47
responsibility for security fiasco 36; Gazit, Shlomo, Colonel 68
army, use for political ends 59; General Armistice Agreements 110
attempt to destabilize government of German–Israeli relations 41
63; Dimona Project, policy on 119; German Scientists Affair in Egypt 39,
government’s Syrian policy 108; 41, 54
internal party affairs, handling of Germany’s long-term commitments to
21; Jerusalem’s status, position on Israel 17
securing 59; Johnson, meeting with Gibli, Benyamin, head of military
46; Lavon Affair, handling of 13; intelligence 26, 27
leadership with legitimacy 61; Ginai, Ariel 68
nuclear option, policy for developing Golan, Matti 63, 124 n.21
38; nuclear program, “disastrous Golan Heights 108, 118; seizing 109
submission” on 50; prime Golda see Meir, Golda
minister–defense minister 85; Rafi Golomb, David 55, 124 n.47
opponents 49; retaliatory policy 89; Gotthalf, Yehuda 37, 38, 123 nn.3–5
speech at convention 19; state’s Gross, Shlomo 68
secret services 53; Syrian regime, Guerrilla warfare, popular 65
government aiming to topple 94;
understanding with Americans 48; Ha’aretz 48
United States, attempt to improve Hacohen, David 36
relationship 56; United States, Hagana 59
138 Index
Halevi, Ephraim 68 of 72; Arab population, demographic
Hammarskjöld, Dag 93 consequences in annexing 111; Arab
Harari, Yizhar 68 world, implementing provocative
Harel, Issar, first director of Mossad policy against 95; Atomic Energy
53, 68 Commission 52; close ties with
Harel, Yossi 27, 53 peripheral states 69; declaration of
Har-Even, Major General 68 statehood 1; demilitarized zones,
Harkav, Yehoshaphat, General 68 rights in 86; deterrence capability 6,
Harman, Avraham, Israeli 7, 75; France and Britain, plans for
Ambassador to the United States, joint military operation against Egypt
Avraham 46, 72 7; and France, relations with 7, 55;
Harriman, Averill, W. 46, 47 Gaza Strip, partial control over 7;
Hazan, Ya’akov 9, 88, 89, German policy 17; holy sites and
126 nn.19, 20 Mount Scopus, free access to 60;
Hebrew University in Jerusalem 32, intelligence operation in Egypt,
116; Board of Governors 118 blunder during 23; Jerusalem, status
Hebron 66, 115; Patriarch’s Tomb in 3, 60; Jordan, large-scale
in 116 retaliation in 66; military operations
Hemed, Sifrei 124 n.5 on Jordanian and Syrian fronts 108;
Herut Party 5, 20 military victory 110; Morocco, need
Herzog, Chaim, General 115 to pacify 56; northern border 76;
Hevrat Ha’ovdim 31 nuclear capability 44, 47; nuclear
Histadrut (Labor Federation) 5 development 38, 40, 42, 54, 105;
Hod, Mordechai, Maj. Gen. 80, 81, nuclear option 1, 7, 8, 38, 47;
106, 112, 125 n.3 nuclear program, American position
Hod, Motti, Colonel 19, 20 on 45; Old City, sovereignty in 111;
Holocaust 1 political stability 24; pro-Western
Hulda Letter 32 Arab states, limited ability to
Humphrey, Hubert 102 retaliate against 70, 74; reprisal 70;
Hussein, King of Jordan 70; demand retaliation policy 72; security
for immediate military aid from the guarantees mainly from American
United States 72; reassurance of administration 42, 69; security
America’s support 72; regime of 80; problem 51, 79; shipping through
reign in aftermath of Samu raid 71; straits 96; status quo in Middle
see also Jordan East 66, 69; terrorist attacks
originating in Jordan 70; West
IDF see Israeli Defense Forces Bank 71, 73
Independence Day: IDF parade through Israeli Air Force (IAF) 65, 83; air
Jerusalem’s streets 92; parade in strike 9, 102; air superiority against
Haifa 60 Syria 75
India 92, 93; arms race with Pakistan Israeli Defense Forces (IDF) 3;
49; regiment in Gaza strip 93 appointments 20; attack on
Indo-Pakistan war 48; Soviet Egyptians 97; modus operandi
arbitration at Tashkent 69; Soviet toward Syria 81; operations against
initiatives to ease tension Pakistan Syria 88; preparedness for war 37,
between and 68 103; raids against Jordan 66; Syrian
International Court in The Hague, policy 86
Nasser’s proposal to refer straits Israeli–Egyptian war 6
issue to 96 Israeli–Jordanian Armistice Agreement
International inspection at Dimona 50 60; violations of 92
Iran 69, 76 Israeli–Syria relations: border incident
Ish-Shalom, Mordechai 112 involving Israeli jets 75; ceasefire
Israel: ambassador to Washington 74; 109; defense establishment,
American-made Patton tanks, use escalation policy toward 78; dispute
Index 139
over the diversion of water sources Kollek, Teddy, Director-General of the
87; modus operandi 81; nature and Prime Minister’s Office 17, 18, 20,
aims of action against Syria 75; 46, 60, 111, 112, 115, 116
nature of threat to Israel 65–69; Komet, Robert, W. 46, 47, 50, 72
operations against 88; policy
towards 86; refraining from Laskov, Haim, chief of staff 27, 36
attacking 66; retaliation policy Lavon, Pinchas 2, 5, 26; Ben-Gurion’s
toward 76 denials of involvement in dismissal
30; dismissal 26, 30; and Gibli,
Jabotinsky, Ari 20, 21 meeting between 33; loyalists 27;
Jabotinsky, Ze’ev 21; reburial of resignation 30; supporters in
bones 20 Mapai 31
Jerusalem 1, 3, 60, 107; “Arab claim” Lavon Affair 9–11, 23, 39, 63, 119;
to 113; handling of 111; Ben-Gurion resignation 29;
international status 69; Jewish Ben-Gurion’s demand for judicial
Quarter of 115; liberation in inquiry 10, 28–29, 32–34; case
Six-Day War 116, 117; military before Knesset Foreign Affairs and
parade on Independence Day 60; Security Committee 27; Committee
status of 59–60; Western Wall 111, of Seven 28, 29, 34, 60; Eshkol’s
113, 115, 116; see also Old City objection to Ben-Gurion’s demands
Jerusalem Post 85 33–35; espionage operation, botched
Jewish dissident paramilitary 26; indifference of Israeli authorities
organizations 1 to prisoners 24; political implications
Jewish exiles ingathering of 1 28–35; “Prisoners of the Affair” 24;
Jewish vote 47 reinvestigation of 64; responsibility
Johnson, President 18, 72, 100; for catastrophe 26; source of friction
Dimona nuclear reactor, intentions between Ben-Gurion and Eshkol 31
regarding 20; letter to Eshkol 43; Lebanon 74, 76
meetings with Eshkol 45; special Lechi 1
envoys 47 Levi, Victor 24
Johnson Administration 43, 44 “Little Alignment,” merging of Mapai
Jordan 74, 76, 120; ally of the West and Achdut Ha’avoda 60
71; border 8; deployment of Patton Low-intensity war 4, 67
tanks 74; Israeli military operations
on 108; Israeli relations 79; sector Mabat Hadash 36, 49, 85
of Jerusalem 116; sources diversion Maizel, Matityahu 125 nn.23–25
of 65; see also Hussein, King of Makhus, Ibrahim, Prime Minister 66
Jordan; Samu Operation/Raid Makleff, Mordechai 36
Joseph, Dov 18 Mapai 2, 5; Ben-Gurion’s resignation
14; Central Committee 14, 30;
Kennedy, President 9, 123 n.14; conventions 18, 20, 60–64; demand
assassination 43, 46; and for greater ideological-political
Ben-Gurion, balance of power pluralism in 31; hegemony 24; High
between 39; pressure on Israel Court 61; inner ring of decision
10, 40 makers 22; internal struggle 9;
Kennedy Administration 39; Israel’s leadership’s internal struggle 62; new
breach with 41; pressure on Israel government downfall 2; split 57
10, 40 Mapam party 9, 28; criticism 86–91;
Kibbutz Dan 65 pro-Soviet orientation 90
Kibbutz Hulda 32 Marzuk, Shmuel 23
Kibia Operation, 1953 80 Mass immigration 1
Kinneret Operation 109 Meir, Golda 9, 12, 13, 15, 16, 17, 38,
Knesset 5; Foreign Affairs and Security 53, 59, 61, 111, 121 n.3, 122 nn.17,
Committee 36 25, 124 nn.8, 44; Foreign Minister
140 Index
Meir, Golda (Continued) No war – no peace strategy 4
talks in Washington 44; power in Nuclear development in Israel 1, 7, 8,
government 14; rejection of 38, 40, 42, 47, 54, 105
Ben-Gurion’s policy 18 Nuclear facility in Dimona see
Meshel, Yerucham 57 Dimona nuclear reactor; Israel
Meyuchas, Meir 24 Nuclear proliferation 45; global
Middle East: Israel as power player 8; monitoring of weapons 49
status quo 74
Military initiatives, Ben-Gurion’s Old City 108, 115; Jews, resettlement
objection to 103 of 112; see also Jerusalem
“Min Hayesod” (From the Basis) 31; Olshen-Dori committee 33
pro-Lavon group 32 Operation Rotem 97
Missile project 46 Operation Shredder 70
Moral image of Israel 79 Oron, Yitzhak 68
Morocco 56, 69; need to pacify 56;
secret service 53 Pakistan: and India, arms race 49; and
Mossad 53, 55, 67; Amit, Meir, head India, Soviet Union’s mediation 48,
of 25, 53, 67, 68; Harel, Issar, first 69; and United States military
head of 53, 68; involvement in alliance 48; see also India
Ben-Barka assassination 53 Palestinian Arabs 3
Mount Scopus 116, 118 Palestinian refugee problem 69
Muhyi ad-Din, Zakariya, Egyptian Vice Palmach generation 19
President 102 Patriarch’s Tomb in Hebron 116
Peled, Natan 68
Nahari, Binyamin 124 n.46 People’s war of liberation 65
Namir, Mordechai 26 Peres, Shimon 9, 16, 18, 26, 31, 46,
Nasser, President 41, 44, 51, 65, 67, 47, 48, 57, 58, 80, 83, 85, 97, 99,
81, 94, 95, 96; blind to dire 102, 103, 110, 114; Deputy Defense
consequences of blockading straits Minister 14; secretary of Rafi 86
97; bragging 104; brazen Politicization of defense establishment
provocations and excessive 57–69
confidence 103; Egypt’s status to be Pre-Six-Day War period 85;
enhanced by bold military-political Ben-Gurion’s concern about hasty
moves 83; fears of Israel’s military militant moves 102
capability 44; International Court in Public security, guaranteeing 4
The Hague, proposal to refer straits
issue to 96; Johnson’s message to Rabin, Yitzhak, Chief of Staff 19, 20,
127 n.28; prestige 100; real motives 24, 70, 76, 77, 81, 82, 83, 92, 120,
and intentions 97; regime, move to 122 n.4, 125 n.5; breakdown during
topple 7; revising strategic posture prewar waiting period 82; dominant
toward Israel 7; self-aggrandizement role in formulating nation’s defense
in Arab world 99; water diversion policy 83; remark regarding Israel’s
proposal 65; see also Egypt Syrian policy 88; and US
Nathanson, Philip 24 ambassador to Israel, meeting
National Security Council 46 between 76; US military attaché,
National Unity Government 11, meeting with 73
108, 118 Rachel’s Tomb 116
National Water Carrier (NWC) 65 Rafi 36, 58, 80, 103; basic principles
Navon, Yitzhak 64 37; Central Committee 117; election
Navot, Menachem 68 results 11, 64; establishment of
Ninio, Marcel 24 separate faction 61; founding of 57;
Nir, Yoel 125 n.22 new, independent party 11; Peres as
Nisiyahu, Mordechai, Prime Minister’s secretary 86; policy toward Arab
Military Advisor 46, 55 world 85; reunion with Mapai 11;
Index 141
Secretariat 110; weekly journal, after 92; and Six-Day War, interim
Mabat Chadash 36, 49, 85 between 8
Reiner, Eliezer 87 Sinai Peninsula 93; “rolling crisis” in
Reiner, Ephraim 126 nn.17, 18 94; UN troops, stationing in 7
Research missile 31 Sinai War see Sinai Campaign
Resignation 10 Six-Day War 1, 11, 24, 55, 62, 69, 70,
Revisionist movement 20 78; events preceding 119; eve of 81;
Riftin, Ya’akov 68, 89, 90 first stages of crisis 92–96; IDF’s
Rikhye 92 dazzling victory 37; outbreak of 24,
Riyad, Mahmud, Egyptian Foreign 52, 119; road to 65
Minister 95 Soviet Union 83; arbitration at
Rosen, Pinchas 28, 29, 33, 34 Tashkent 68, 69; decision to sever
Rotenstreich, Nathan 32 diplomatic relations with Israel 109;
Rothschild, Edmund 113 Israel’s fear of intervention on Syria’s
Rush, Dean, Secretary of State 44 side 76, 78, 104, 109; warning 110
statehood consciousness 15
Saig, Eli 122 n.33 State of Israel 12
Samu Operation/Raid 66, 70–74, 80; Straits of Tiran 83, 85, 94, 95; blockade
American position 74–78; of 100; closure as act of belligerency
Ben-Gurion’s silence on 80; King 97; guarantee of free passage through
Hussein’s message to Israel 72; 7, 93; to Israel’s territorial waters,
repercussions in Jordan 71; United blockade of 94, 100
States criticism 71 Strategic material 96
Sapir, Joseph 108 Suawaydani, Chief of Staff 66, 70
Sapir, Pinchas 9, 14, 16 Suez Campaign 24
Saudi Arabia 76 Suez evacuation 121 n.1
Saunders, Hal 77 Surface-to-surface missiles, acquisition
Schwimmer, Al 57 of 54
Security blunder 119 Sweden 92; regiment in Gaza strip 93
Sede-Boker, desert kibbutz 5 Syria 74; acts of sabotage backed by
Service Record 81 65; Ba’ath regime 66, 82, 86; border
Sèvres Conference 7 8, 67, 80; Communist bloc, close
Sha’ar Yishuv 65 alignment 76; consent to Security
Shabtai, K. 122 n.34 Council resolution for ceasefire 108,
Shacham, David 124 n.6 109; delegation 66; and Egypt,
Shalom, Zaki 121 n.31, 122 n.22 defense 66, 94; hard-line position in
Shapira, Chaim Moshe 28, Arab world 87; incident of April 7,
111, 114 1967 80, 81, 89–91; and Jordan,
Sharett, Moshe, Foreign Minister 2, tensions 70; militant policy in
13, 16, 30, 61, 116; and Ben-Gurion, international arena 70; pleas to
relations between 5; dismissal Cairo 92; propaganda to undermine
122 n.22; dual role of prime Jordan’s Hashemite dynasty 70;
minister-foreign minister 3; relentless belligerency 76; ties with
premiership, consequences of 5; Soviet Union 65, 104
strategic thinking 6 Syria and Israel relations: decision to
Sharma al-Sheikh 93 escalate incidents on border 120;
Shavit 2, 31 halting provocations against 76;
Sheikh Hussein Bridge 66 hostile policy toward Israel 69; Israeli
Shinar, Felix, Israel’s unofficial civilian settlements, shelling of 65;
ambassador to Germany 17 Israeli defense establishment’s attitude
Shnitzer, Shmuel 68 on 78; military operations on Syrian
Shoshani, Eliezer 55 fronts 108; military superiority of
Sinai Campaign, 1956 1, 7, 8, 67, 69, Israel 75; nature of threat to Israel
95, 97, 104, 120; IDF withdrawal 65–69; rising tension 79
142 Index
Tel-Aviv Workers Council 58 Israel’s agreement to monitoring
Terrorist campaign against Israel 65 arrangements at Dimona reactor 43;
Terror organizations attacking Israel fearful of nuclear proliferation 49;
from Jordanian territory 70 Israel in danger of breach of faith
Turkey 69 with 29; Israel’s nuclear program,
Tzur, Zvi, Chief of Staff 19, 36, 85, change in attitude toward 39;
102, 107, 109 see also America/n; United States
Water disputes 66
UAR missile threat 45 Weitz, Yosef 107, 127 n.3
United Nations: Partition Plan 69; Weizman Ezer, General 19, 106, 112
pullout from Sinai 90 West Bank 108, 118; Ben-Gurion’s
United Nations Emergency Force views on 108, 111, 113; Israel’s
(UNEF) 93, 94; evacuation of Sinai plan to occupy 73; Palestinian
92, 94; troops from Sweden, Brazil, villages 74; protests following
Canada, Yugoslavia and India 92 Samu raid 71
United States 76, 95; Act of Western Powers 70, 76; need for
Battle – List of Strategic Materials coordination with 105
96; attitude toward Israel’s nuclear Wolffensohn, Avraham 36
option, dramatic shift in 45;
Embassy in Tel-Aviv 60; involvement Ya’ari, Meir 9, 87
in Vietnam 76; policy of preventing Yadin, Yigael, General 36, 106
nuclear proliferation 49; presidential Yahil, Chaim, Director-General of the
elections 38; procuring weapons Foreign Ministry 46
from 6; Security Council decision for Yariv, Aharon, General 68, 77
ceasefire between Israel and Syria Yemen 67
110; standing vis-à-vis USSR 42; Yishuv 12, 26, 59
see also America/n; Washington Yisraeli, Haim, Assistant Defense
U Thant, UN Secretary General 93, Minister 102, 107
94, 95 Yosef, Dov 645
Yoseftal, Santa 55
Vietnam 48 Yosephtal, Giora 9, 26
Vietnam War 49 Yugoslavia 92, 93; troop pullout from
Voice of Israel 108 Sharma al-Sheikh area 94

War of Independence, 1948 1, 3, Zafran, Meir 24


104, 116 Zionist entity 4
Washington: attitude towards Israeli Zionist Movement 1, 12
attack against Syria 77; demanding Zionist state 56
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