Mossad

by Michael Bar-Zohar

  During the Yom Kippur War that broke out that day, the Angel kept supplying Israel with first-rate intelligence. When the Egyptians fired two Scud missiles at IDF troop concentrations, a reassuring report by the Angel calmed the Israelis. The Egyptian Army had no intention of using more missiles during the fighting, he said, and Egypt wouldn’t escalate the war against Israel.

  The Yom Kippur War ended on October 23. In the Golan Heights, the Syrian Army had been routed, and the Israeli cannons were positioned twenty miles from Damascus. In the south, the Egyptians had occupied a strip five miles wide on the Israeli shore of the Suez Canal, but their Third Army was completely surrounded by the Israelis, who had established a bridgehead in Egyptian territory, broken the Egyptian lines, and attained new positions barely sixty-three miles from Cairo.

  Still, Israel could not rejoice with this victory. The war had cost them 2,656 lives, wounded 7,251, and the myth of its superior power had been destroyed.

  Yet negotiations had started between Israelis and Egyptians and accords were signed, first for the ending of hostilities, then for establishing durable peace between the two nations. Syria refused to join the peace process.

  Zvi Zamir completed his tour of duty and was replaced by general Yitzhak (Haka) Hofi.

  Zamir retired amid general praise for his achievements. He was acclaimed for being the only one in the intelligence community to have warned about the military preparations of the Syrians and the Egyptians, and for bringing the crucial report about the imminent attack on Israel. If Israel’s leaders had been more attentive to his warnings, and ordered an immediate preventive strike, it is highly probable that the results would have been far better for Israel. Certain cabinet ministers maintained that Israel refrained from preventive action so that it could not be accused of starting the war. Not only does this seem contrived, it seems a nearsighted decision. For what was more important—that Israel not be “accused” of triggering the war or that it protect itself with all the means at its disposal?

  And yet, the Israeli historian Dr. Uri Bar-Yossef maintains that the Angel’s warning saved the Golan Heights. On the morning of October 6, he wrote, tank crews had been urgently mobilized following the Angel’s report; these crews reached the Golan in the afternoon and stopped the Syrian advance in the Nafah sector.

  At the war’s end, under unprecedented public pressure, Israel’s government appointed a board of inquiry, headed by Supreme Court Judge Shimon Agranat, to investigate the decision-making process during the Yom Kippur War. The board ordered the immediate discharge of General Eli Zeira (and several other officers, including Chief of Staff David El’azar).

  But who was the Angel? An unending flow of stories, reports, and books—all of them erroneous—about his identity have been published throughout the years. It was obvious that the Angel was somebody very close to Egypt’s governing circles and Egyptian Army’s supreme command; but no one ever pierced the armor of secrecy that protected his real identity. Journalists and analysts called him by several code names and painted a figure blessed with legendary talents. He became the hero of many spy stories and even some bestselling novels.

  After his discharge, General Zeira carried his frustration deep in his heart. He was determined to prove his innocence and reveal his version of the 1973 events to the world.

  He finally decided to write a book, and give his own answer to the question: Why did he reject the Angel’s report?

  The general wrote that the Angel was nothing less than a double agent who had been planted in the Mossad by the wily Egyptians in order to mislead the Israelis.

  Some reporters bought Zeira’s story, and wrote that the Angel was indeed a double agent par excellence. The Angel’s role, they explained, was, over a length of time, to deliver to Israel truthful and accurate intelligence, in order to win its trust—and then, when the Mossad was practically eating out of his hand, feed it a monstrous lie that would destroy it.

  It was a great story. It explained everything, almost . . . Because both Zeira and his followers chose to disregard one single fact: all the Angel’s reports, from the very beginning and till the very end, had been absolutely accurate. So where was the lie?

  And when the Angel could mislead Israel and inform it that the massing of troops on the Suez Canal’s shore was just a maneuver, and there was no danger of war—the “double agent” chose the opposite solution: he called Zamir’s aide in England and sent him the warning—“chemicals”—then flew to London and warned Zamir that the surprise attack was imminent.

  But Zeira could not be stopped. In 2004, when a new edition of his book was published, he went a step further and revealed the Angel’s identity to the public. In a series of interviews, culminating with a television news show hosted by veteran journalist Dan Margalit, Zeira used the Angel’s real name.

  Ashraf Marwan.

  The name stunned all those familiar with the Egyptian political circles. They could not believe that Marwan might be an Israeli spy.

  But who was this master spy? Who was Ashraf Marwan?

  In 1965, a sweet, shy Egyptian girl met a charming and handsome young man at the Heliopolis tennis court. The girl, Moona, was the third daughter in her family and not exactly the smartest. Her sister Huda was more gifted and an A-student at the Giza high school. But Moona was cute, charming, and her father’s favorite child. The young man she had met came from a respectable and well-off family; he had just graduated with a B.S. in chemistry and had joined the army. And Moona fell for him, head over heels.

  Shortly afterward, she introduced her boyfriend to her family. That’s how the young man met Moona’s father, Egypt’s president Gamal Abdel Nasser.

  Nasser was not sure that his daughter had met the ideal match, but she did not leave him any choice. Finally, Nasser invited the young man’s father, a senior officer in the President’s Guard, to his office, and the two men agreed that their children should get married. A year later, in July 1966, the young people were wed. Soon after, Moona’s young husband was posted at the chemical department of the Republic Guards, and at the end of 1968 was transferred to the presidential department of science.

  The name of the president’s son-in-law was Ashraf Marwan.

  The young man apparently was not satisfied with his new job. He asked Nasser for permission to pursue his studies in London. Nasser agreed, and Ashraf Marwan, alone, settled in England’s capital, under the close supervision of the Egyptian embassy.

  But the supervision, apparently, was not close enough. Ashraf Marwan loved the good life, the parties, the adventures—and London of the sixties generously supplied all of that. It didn’t take long for the young Egyptian to spend all his allowance. He needed another source of financing for his nightly pleasures—and soon he found it.

  Her name was Suad, and she was married to the Kuwaiti sheik Abdallah Mubarak Al-Sabah. Ashraf charmed the romantic lady and she opened her purse in return. But the arrangement did not last long. The affair was exposed and an angry Nasser had the bad boy sent home in disgrace. Nasser demanded that Moona divorce the adulterer, but she flatly refused. Nasser finally decided that Marwan would remain in Egypt and be allowed to go to London only to deliver his papers to his professors; Marwan also had to pay back all the money he had received from Suad Al-Sabah. He got a job in Nasser’s office, and once in a while he would be charged with petty tasks or missions.

  In 1969, Ashraf Marwan came to London again, to submit an essay to the university. But on that occasion, he also took the first step to betraying his father-in-law. His humiliation by Egypt’s president had left him bitter and frustrated. He did not hesitate: he phoned the Israeli embassy and asked to speak to the military attaché. When an officer answered, Marwan identified himself by his real name, and bluntly said that he wanted to work for Israel. He asked that his offer be forwarded to the people dealing with this kind of activity. The officer who received his call did not take him seriously and did not report the call; Marwan’s second call also rema
ined unanswered. But the story reached some Mossad officials. The chief of the Mossad European section, Shmuel Goren, received a phone call from Marwan. Goren knew who Marwan was, was aware of the man’s important position, and asked Marwan not to call the embassy anymore; he gave him an unlisted number and immediately alerted some of his colleagues.

  Goren’s top-secret report was handed to Zvi Zamir and to Rehavia Vardi, the head of Tzomet, the Mossad department for agent recruitment. The two of them appointed a special team to check Marwan’s offer in-depth. On the one hand, Marwan’s move had all the characteristics of a classic sting operation: somebody high up in an enemy organization volunteers as an agent, and no effort is needed to recruit him. That seems very suspicious. The man can be a double agent, sent over as bait by the Egyptian services.

  But on the other hand—the same equation might have the opposite meaning. Somebody high up in the enemy organization volunteers as an agent. He certainly must have access to ultrasecret material that nobody else can provide. Perhaps, after all, he was the ideal agent, the one every secret service in the world dreamed about? Besides, Vardi’s men knew who Marwan was—an ambitious young man, a hedonist, therefore somebody who loved money. The temptation for Mossad recruiters was great.

  Goren returned to London and asked to meet Marwan. Marwan agreed and arrived elegantly dressed, ever the handsome young man. He openly told Goren that he had been deeply disappointed by Egypt’s defeat in the 1967 Six-Day War, and had decided to join the winner. But beside that “ideological” motive, Marwan asked for lots of money: $100,000 for every meeting in which he would deliver a report to his handlers.

  Goren was inclined to accept the offer, in spite of the huge cost. Such sums had never before been paid to a Mossad agent. But first, Goren needed tangible proof that Marwan was as good as his word. He asked him for a sample of the secret documents he could deliver. The delivery of the documents would also tie Marwan to the Mossad. It was self-incriminating, solid proof that Marwan had become an Israeli agent. From the Egyptian point of view, that would make him a traitor and an enemy agent.

  Marwan did not let Goren wait long, and brought the full minutes of the talks held by President Nasser with the leaders of the Soviet Union in Moscow, on January 22, 1970. In that visit, Nasser demanded that the Soviets supply him with modern, long-range jet bombers that could carry out bombings deep inside Israel.

  The document astonished all those who read it. They had never seen such a paper; its authenticity was beyond doubt. Now the Mossad chiefs realized that they had a fabulous treasure in their hands. They appointed Dubi as Marwan’s handler and sent him to London. They also took immediate care of all the arrangements: renting an apartment in London for the meetings with the Angel, equipping it with hidden listening and recording devices, securing it, establishing a special fund for the financing of their star agent. The games could start.

  The meetings were initiated by Marwan himself, whenever he had something to report. According to the rules established with Dubi, Marwan would make a phone call to a middleman (some sources claim that he used to call Jewish women in London), and the Mossad would be alerted. Marwan provided his handlers with lots of intelligence and top-secret political and military documents. Colonel Meir Meir, the head of Branch 6 (Egyptian Army) in Aman, participated in several of those meetings. Meir used to fly to London under an assumed identity; all identifying labels would have been removed from his clothes. He used to move around London for hours, by foot, in cabs and buses, to make absolutely sure he was not followed, then, finally, reach the apartment building and go up to the sixth floor. When he came to the apartment the first time, he met there a handsome but unpleasant man, who openly disdained him and condescendingly glowered at him. Marwan softened up only when he realized that Meir was a man of vast knowledge and experience. Once, Meir was asked by his Mossad friend to bring a briefcase to Marwan. When he asked what was in the case, his friend winked at him and said “a penthouse in Hamedina Square” (the most exclusive neighborhood in Tel Aviv), hinting that it carried a fabulous sum of money. According to Mossad estimates, Marwan’s reports during his secret service for Israel cost the Jewish state more than $3 million.

  Nasser died on September 28, 1970, and was replaced by Anwar Sadat. Professor Shimon Shamir, one of the foremost Egypt scholars in Israel, analyzed Sadat’s character for the Mossad. A feeble, dull man, Shamir said; he stressed that Sadat would not stay long in power or go to war. Many of Egypt’s leaders thought the same, but Marwan decided to back Sadat unconditionally. He took the keys to Nasser’s personal safe from his wife, collected the most important files and documents, and brought them to the new president.

  He stood by him again in May 1971, when some of Egypt’s leaders conspired to carry out a pro-Soviet coup. Some of the most famous names in Egypt were among the conspirers: Ali Sabri, a former vice president; Mahmoud Fawzi, a former minister of war; Sharawi Guma, minister of the interior, and other ministers and members of parliament. The plan was to assassinate Sadat during his visit to Alexandria University. But Sadat moved first, and arrested all the conspirators. Marwan stood by him, and assisted Sadat when he smashed the conspiracy.

  The results were not long coming. Marwan’s position in the Egyptian hierarchy vastly improved. He was appointed presidential secretary for information and special adviser to the president. He accompanied Sadat on his trips throughout the Arab world and took part in top-level political talks.

  As Marwan’s status improved, so did his reports. In 1971, Sadat traveled to Moscow several times, and presented Leonid Brezhnev with a shopping list of the weapons he needed to attack Israel. The list included, among other things, MiG-25 aircraft. Marwan delivered the list to his Mossad handlers; when they asked for the minutes of the Sadat-Brezhnev talks, Marwan brought that, too. Zvi Zamir was profoundly impressed by Marwan’s reports, and met him in person. The material provided by Marwan was distributed to a few senior Mossad and Aman officers, the IDF chief of staff and his deputy, Prime Minister Golda Meir, Minister of Defense Moshe Dayan, and Golda’s confidant, minister without portfolio Israel Galili.

  Some of Marwan’s material apparently landed on the desks of other secret services. He approached the Italian secret service and offered to work for it as well; according to one source, he also established contact with the British MI6. That explains why, on that fateful October 5, when he was on his way to meet with Zvi Zamir in London, he made a stopover in Rome: he informed the Italians, too, about the forthcoming war.

  Another one of his reports had reached the Italians before, but this was by means of the Mossad. A month before the Yom Kippur War, Libya had asked for Egypt’s help. Palestinian terrorists, in the service of Libya’s leader, Muammar Khaddafi, intended to shoot down an El Al plane during its takeoff from Rome’s airport.

  This was meant to be an act of vengeance against Israel for mistakenly shooting down a civilian Libyan aircraft over Sinai in February 1973. The Mossad had obtained evidence that Palestinian terrorists were planning to hijack a plane, load it with explosives, and crash the plane in one of Israel’s big cities (see chapter 12). When a plane flying the Libyan colors emerged over Sinai, refusing to identify itself and to leave the Israeli-controlled space, the Israeli Air Force controllers concluded that this was the suicide bombers’ aircraft. They launched a couple of fighter jets that shot the plane down. It was later established that the airliner had strayed from its course because of a sand storm that raged over Sinai. The Israeli medics found 108 bodies among the aircraft’s smoldering debris.

  Khaddafi swore to avenge the victims. The team to carry out the operation numbered five Fatah terrorists, led by Amin Al-Hindi. President Sadat decided to help the Libyans and ordered Marwan to deliver two Russian-made Strela missiles to the terrorists. Marwan sent the surface-to-air missiles to Rome via the diplomatic pouch. In Rome, Marwan loaded the missiles into his car; met with Al-Hindi in a shoe store on the world-famous Via Veneto; entered a carpet store with him,
and bought two large carpets. Together they wrapped the missiles in the carpets and transported them, by subway, to the Palestinians’ safe house . . . The terrorists prepared to launch the missiles, unaware that Marwan had already alerted the Mossad, and the Mossad warned the Italians. On September 6, the antiterror squad of the Italian police broke into an apartment in Ostia, close to the Rome airport. The Italians arrested some of the terrorist team members and seized the missiles. The other members of the team were apprehended in a Rome hotel. The Italian press named the Mossad as the source that had alerted the Italian services; some maintained that during the operation, Zvi Zamir himself was present in Rome.

  A month later, the Yom Kippur War broke out.

  After the war, Marwan kept fulfilling major secret tasks for Sadat. He was sent as Sadat’s envoy to Arab capitals, and was active in the separation of forces between Syria and Egypt—and Israel. He was also present at the talks between U.S. secretary of state Henry Kissinger and King Hussein of Jordan in Amman. The separation of forces gave Marwan the opportunity to connect with another secret service—the American CIA, which was looking for credible intelligence about Egypt’s policy after the interim agreements with Israel. According to American sources, the secret relations between Marwan and the CIA lasted almost twenty-five years. He visited the United States several times for medical treatment and enjoyed a warm welcome and generous hospitality, courtesy of the CIA.

  But even his senior position and secret activities lost their appeal, and Marwan started a second career, in business. He bought a luxurious apartment in London, at 24 Carlton House Terrace, and started investing his money in various projects. In 1975, Ashraf Marwan was appointed chairman of the Arab Industrial Union—an organization founded by Egypt, Saudi Arabia, and the Gulf Emirates in order to produce conventional weapons by Western methods. The project failed, but it helped Marwan to establish valuable contacts in the business world. After a short term, he was removed from his position, and in 1979 he moved to Paris. Two years later, after the assassination of President Sadat by fanatic terrorists, he moved to London and started a brilliant business career, which made him a very rich man. He hosted his Mossad handler Dubi in a hotel he owned in Majorca, in the Balearic Islands, and let him know that he was retiring from the world of espionage. Some claim that by the end of the seventies Marwan felt the Egyptian soil burning under his feet, and that he was suspected of maintaining secret ties with Israel, so he decided to leave both Egypt and the Mossad for good.