Six Days of War

by Michael B. Oren

  But if Johnson was willing to let Israel win the war, he was also eager to minimize damage to America’s Middle East interests and avert a clash with the USSR. “We continue to believe that the fighting in the Near East should be stopped as soon as possible,” the president wired Kosygin at 10:03 A.M. Urging the Soviets to refute Nasser’s charge of U.S.-Israeli collusion, and reminding them of America’s commitment to free passage in the Straits, Johnson sought cooperation in the Security Council. Specifically, he asked Kosygin to support a cease-fire resolution that called for troop withdrawals “behind the Armistice Lines,” but “without prejudice to the respective rights, claims or positions of anyone,” and also for an end to “acts of force regardless of their nature.”

  No answer was forthcoming from Kosgyin, while in the UN, efforts to obtain a cease-fire remained stalemated. In express terms, Goldberg told Federenko that the American draft was intended to terminate the blockade and initiate direct talks on the separation of forces and certain “territorial changes.” The Israelis, who sought to trade their gains for Arab recognition and peace, would not be happy with the resolution, Goldberg explained, but Washington would support it if Moscow did. “It’s package deal,” he concluded. “Take it or leave it.”

  For all his anti-American fustian, Federenko was fond of Goldberg—“a slick Jew who could fool the devil himself,” he called him—and admired his creativity. But the American draft went far beyond the Russian’s terms of reference, which still linked a cease-fire with an immediate and unconditional withdrawal. Later that day, however, the Soviet ambassador received an extraordinary phone call from Deputy Foreign Minister Semyonov in Moscow. Speaking in Gromyko’s name, Semyonov instructed him to accept a simple cease-fire, even without a pullback. “You must do that, even if the Arab countries do not agree. I repeat, do not agree.”

  American officials, shocked by this sudden turn of Soviet policy, wondered if Federenko had exceeded his instructions or if communications between him and Moscow had collapsed. Confusion deepened with the receipt of another hot line cable from Kosygin—a full eight hours after the last—acknowledging his support for a cease-fire plus withdrawal. A debate ensued at the White House over whether to respond to Federenko’s position or Kosygin’s. “Our two Ambassadors in the Security Council have been in close consultation throughout the day,” Johnson answered finally. “We understand that our Ambassadors agreed to a very short resolution calling for a cease-fire as a first step.”

  The Americans were delighted with this development but, as Goldberg anticipated, not so the Israelis. They greeted with skepticism Goldberg’s claim that the withdrawal from occupied lands would take “four months at least,” leaving ample room for diplomacy, and bristled at the very mention of the Armistice. And yet, having claimed to be waging a defensive war, they could not reject a cease-fire on the grounds that they needed more territory for trading. Hiding this dilemma behind a display of overexuberance, Eban told the Council, “We welcome, we favor, we support, we accept” the cease-fire.

  Seven minutes later, at 4:30 P.M., the resolution passed. The cease-fire would go into effect that evening at 10:00 GMT. Johnson lost no time in appearing on national television and announcing “the necessary first step…forward to what we all must hope will be a new time of settled peace and progress for all the people of the Middle East.”32

  But Johnson’s appearance proved premature; the Arab delegates had yet to register their reaction. The Jordanian ambassador, Dr. Muhammad al-Farra, a Khan Yunis-born, American-educated diplomat who had once refused a position on the UN Secretariat for fear that he might have to shake an Israeli’s hand, was the first to respond. Al-Farra had just received a phone call from Ahmad Touqan, his foreign minister, who informed him of the extent of Jordan’s defeat. The assessment was confirmed by U Thant who, still smarting from the obloquy of his decision on UNEF, had kept a low profile since the war’s eruption. “My friend, the picture is very gloomy,” the secretary-general said, and al-Farra burst out in tears. His trauma was now compounded as he rose to accept the cease-fire, aware that without Egyptian support, the resolution was essentially worthless.

  The keys to ending the fighting, to preserving the Egyptian army, Jerusalem’s Old City, and the rest of the West Bank, were now in the hands of Mohammad El Kony. Earlier in the debate, Goldberg had approached the Egyptian delegate and informed him that Nasser’s air force had been destroyed and his troops set to flight. He promised to work for an Israeli withdrawal, but only if Egypt supported the cease-fire resolution. El Kony, bewildered, requested instructions from Cairo. Those he received were categorical. El Kony was to reject any resolution that did not order the unconditional withdrawal of Israeli troops. Anything short of that provision was unworkable, Foreign Minister Riad explained, adding—apparently without irony—that “Israeli forces in Sinai have become intermingled with Egyptian troops and there are no UN emergency forces to determine or identify the positions of either party.”

  Thus, taking the microphone, El Kony rejected the Goldberg-Federenko compromise, and further denounced the United States and Britain for conspiring with the aggressors. In quick succession came George Tomeh—a radical Ba‘thist, squat and bespectacled—asserting Syria’s unity with Egypt’s position, and Iraqi ambassador Adnan Pachachi, who deplored the resolution as “surrender to Israel.”

  Goldberg’s efforts had been vitiated. Denying the Big Lie, offering to open the 6th Fleet to UN observers, the American ambassador made a last-ditch attempt to establish a mechanism for verifying the cease-fire. This, too, failed to gain ground and, stymied, the Council finally recessed. It would not reconvene for nearly twenty-four hours.33

  Day Two: Denouement

  The stillbirth of the first cease-fire resolution in New York was not regretted in Tel Aviv. “Unwittingly,” Rabin recorded, “Nasser was beginning to act more like an ally than an enemy.” As the Security Council reached an impasse, the IDF general staff completed its preparations for Operation Nachshon 2—the second phase of the war.

  The plan continued to give priority to the Egyptian front, to eradicating Nasser’s army and gaining control over the Mitla and Giddi passes. Special concern was again expressed about Sharm al-Sheikh, where the size of the Egyptian force remained uncertain. Dayan and Rabin authorized Operation Lights (Urim), involving a naval probe of the area and an assault by paratroopers approaching from either the Red Sea or the Gulf of Suez coast. In Gaza, the installation of a full military government was approved and charged with preventing looting and restoring normal life. But all action was again postponed on the Syrian front where, apart from preparing for limited land grabs, the army’s sole task was to block any further enemy incursions. If Lebanon entered the war—two Lebanese Hawkers had strafed positions in Galilee that afternoon; one was shot down—the IDF would be permitted to cross that border as well, conquering up to the Litani River. Finally, in Jerusalem, Israel would accept the surrender of the Old City, but for the time do nothing to force it. Military governors would meanwhile be appointed to administer the major cities of the West Bank, where the Arab population would be respected. As for those residents who wanted to flee to Jordan, Dayan pointed out, Israel would not stand in their way.

  The future of the West Bank, Gaza, and Jerusalem preoccupied the Cabinet as well when it met late that night in the prime minister’s office. After hearing a briefing by Gen. Bar-Lev on the first forty hours of the war, Israeli leaders listed the issues to be addressed once the fighting concluded, among them water sources, the Demilitarized Zones, and the Palestinian refugee problem. From Washington, Abe Harman submitted a proposal for creating a West Bank Palestinian state federated with Israel, and for sending “symbolic units” of friendly Palestinians to fight on the Egyptian and Syrian front. Eshkol was more concerned that Arab civilians and POWs be treated humanely, though the notion of a permanent settlement had sparked his imagination as well. “We have to consider new definitions of diplomatic and strategic concepts,” he
exhorted his ministers. “We must devise a program that will ensure Israel’s proper place in the Middle East within the context of a permanent peace and secure borders.”34

  Thirty-eight miles away, in Amman, a message arrived at the army’s headquarters. The time was 11:15 P.M., over ten hours after Hussein had requested a directive from Nasser, and only now he received his answer. “My dear brother, King Hussein,” Nasser’s cable began. “We find ourselves face to face with one of those critical moments that nations are sometimes called upon to endure…We are fully aware of your difficult situation as at this very moment our front is crumbling too. Yesterday, our enemy’s air force inflicted a mortal blow on us. Since then, our land army has been stripped of all air support and compelled to withstand the power of superior forces…I think that our only choice now is to evacuate the West Bank of the Jordan tonight, and hope that the Security Council will order a cease-fire.”

  So, tersely, Nasser finally admitted what Hussein already knew: that the Egyptian air force was nonexistent and its army in full retreat. Permission had been granted to withdraw the Jordanian army to the East Bank without fear of repercussions from Egypt or other radical regimes. At the price of the West Bank and Jerusalem, Hussein had gained legitimacy. Nasser concluded: “I want to tell you how much I appreciate your heroic behavior, your strong and gallant will, and the bravery shown by the Jordanian people and their army. Peace be upon you, and the mercy of God.”

  There was little Hussein could do. The Israelis had turned down his requests for an implicit cease-fire. Soon their troops would drive through the rest of the West Bank—through Nablus and Qalqilya, Bethlehem and Hebron—seize the Old City and descend to the Jordan Valley and Jericho. Though many of its units had yet to see combat, the army was thoroughly demoralized. Faced with these ineluctable facts, depressed and fatigued, Hussein approved Riyad’s evacuation proposal. At 11:30 P.M., Jordanian commanders received orders to retreat, essentially every man for himself, over the Jordan River. Floridly, in a letter to president ‘Aref of Iraq, he composed a final tribute to himself and the battle his forces had waged:

  The painful events of the past two days demonstrated to us that Arab brotherhood, Arab understanding and pure ethics expressed in the desire and longing for paradise—these in time shall remain…[Our] blood…has mixed in the green expanses, on the hills and the walls and within the immaculate earth.35

  Then, seemingly miraculously, events began to shift. In New York, seven hours behind Jordan time, the U.S. and the USSR reached their agreement on a cease-fire. The Jordanians, together with the Israelis, accepted the resolution. But unlike the Israelis, who were counting on Egypt’s rejection of the cease-fire to enable them to keep advancing, Hussein believed the resolution could rescue him from defeat. Fortifying this impression were sanguine reports from field commanders—al-Ghazi and Brig. Turki in Nablus—assuring him that there was mettle in their units yet, that the army could still fight on.

  Thus, less than two hours after issuing the evacuation order, the king prepared to rescind it. The cease-fire would go into effect at dawn, and until that time all units that had fled to the East Bank were instructed to cross the Jordan River again and to try to hold their ground. The Prince Hasan bin Talal Brigade, reinforced with Iraqi commandos, was ordered to hold the approaches to Jericho and the Jordan bridges, while the remains of the 40th Brigade regrouped east of Nablus. If these positions could be defended for twenty-four hours, Hussein believed, much of the West Bank and the Old City of Jerusalem would be saved.36

  THE WAR: DAY THREE, JUNE 7

  The fateful battle for Jerusalem.

  Egypt’s “Curtain” torn.

  Soviet threats and American brainstorming.

  “I have ordered all our troops on the West Bank of the Jordan and all other fronts to hold onto their positions. With God’s help may victory come to you as well as us.” Thus King Hussein informed Nasser of his decision not to evacuate his army to the East Bank. The dispatch to his soldiers took a more bellicose tone, entreating them “to kill the enemy wherever you find them with your arms, hands, nails and teeth,” and reminding them—incongruously, perhaps—to respect the cease-fire if Israel did.

  The new instructions reached ‘Ata ‘Ali after 2:20 in the morning of June 7, just as Israeli loudspeakers outside the Old City were encouraging him and his men to lay down their arms and surrender. The Jordanian commander had given his troops the choice of remaining in their positions or retreating by any route possible. Maj. Badi ‘Awad, with no ammunition left and little fuel, drove his jeep up the Mount of Olives and from there through the desert to Jericho. Others were not so fortunate. Under fire and desperately hungry, Lt. Ghazi Isma’il Raba’iyya led his 120-man platoon from house to house, begging for shelter, only to be turned away. “When you’re losing, nobody respects you,” he recounted. Three more days would pass before, ragged and emaciated, he managed to reach the Dead Sea.1

  For King Hussein, having told his army to stand firm at a time when Egypt’s was fleeing, the situation was no less perilous. Nasser was sure to be irate. Shortly after issuing his new instructions, Hussein received another cable from Cairo confirming that “the High Command of our Armed Forces deduced that beyond a shadow of a doubt, the United States and Great Britain were aiding Israel.” The king responded obliquely, asserting that he had no choice but to accept the cease-fire, and ascribing the decision to his “Oriental fatalism.” The danger from Egypt could not be discounted, though. Pro-Nasserite demonstrations had already broken out in Amman, the protestors demanding Jordan’s realignment away from the West and toward the USSR. Even more destabilizing was the flight of tens of thousands of Palestinians from the West to the East Bank. Adding their numbers to the disgruntled refugees from 1948—the majority of Jordan’s population—this new wave of displaced Palestinians threatened to scuttle Hashemite rule.

  Yet, mortal as they were, the Egyptian and Palestinian threats to Hussein paled beside those posed by Israel. Just before dawn, the tank brigades of Uri Ram and Moshe Bar Kokhva set out from Jenin in the direction of Nablus. Advancing from ‘Arabe to Tubas to attack the city in an unconventional eastern thrust, Ram’s tanks destroyed thirty-five of al-Ghazi’s tanks and blocked any reinforcements from reaching them. While infantry and recon units paired off to chase stragglers over the Damiya Bridge—only five Pattons managed to cross—armored formations took Sebastia, the capital of ancient Samaria. Waiting for the Israelis at Nablus were twenty-five tanks, all that remained of the 40th Armored Division, with instructions to hold their ground. “We were on full alert, ready to meet the enemy,” Capt. Muhammad al-Darubi, a company commander, remembered. “At 6:30 we spotted a column of enemy tanks approaching. Another column came by way of the main road from ‘Arabe. These presented excellent targets, and we rained shells down on them. But our fire exposed our positions, and we knew it was only a matter of time before the enemy’s air force appeared.”

  Within Jerusalem, only token Jordanian forces held on to resist Israel’s impending assault. All but one hundred of the Old City’s defenders had withdrawn and far less than that remained on Augusta Victoria ridge. Among the last to believe that the Arabs could lose were Palestinian notables led by Jerusalem mayor Ruhi al-Khatib and Anwar al-Khatib, the district governor. Confident of Nasser’s invincibility and of Israel’s imminent defeat, East Jerusalem had made no provisions for war. No emergency medical supplies had been stockpiled, no bomb shelters built. Since the fighting started, Palestinian officials had persuaded themselves that the planes circling overhead and the tanks on Mount Scopus were Jordanian or even Iraqi. By the morning of the 7th, though, with the Star of David flying over the Rockefeller Museum and ‘Ata ‘Ali’s troops retreating, the notables could no longer deny reality. They beseeched Hussein to declare Jerusalem an open city and so spare its Muslim shrines from destruction.2

  Hussein was not insensitive to these concerns. On the contrary, as scion to a family that had already lost Islam’s two ho
liest places—Mecca and Medina—to the Saudis, he was determined to preserve the third. He urged the Palestinians to trust in God and not to abandon hope. For his part, he rescinded his previous call for a de facto “end to the violence” and now expressed his readiness for a formal cease-fire. He had only to convince the Israelis.

  With redoubled gravity, Prime Minister Jum’a appealed to the UN and to Ambassador Burns to persuade Israel to refrain from seizing the Old City and to stop its advance on Nablus. Failure to do so, he warned, would result in the collapse of the Hashemite regime. As proof of Jordan’s sincerity, Jum’a pointed out its defiance of Nasser’s evacuation proposal and its refusal of further aerial support from Iraq. General Khammash also lobbied Burns, beseeching him to end the “meaningless massacre” and to save the monarchy from collapse. The American ambassador quickly relayed these messages, along with warnings of his own regarding the safety of the 1,200 U.S. citizens in Jordan and the dangers of Soviet intervention should Israel press its attack. Time was exceedingly short, Burns emphasized; the president must speak with Eshkol directly.

  When it came to making that call, however, the White House hesitated. The advent of the Big Lie had made administration officials wary of suggesting any military move to Israel, lest it be seen as collusion. At most, Rusk was willing to communicate Hussein’s cease-fire offer to Tel Aviv, and to advise the Israeli government to “take care of its own interests in the Arab world.” Hussein had always exerted a moderating influence on the region, the secretary recalled, and there were long-term dangers to toppling him.3

  Rusk’s cable reached Jerusalem at 7:00 A.M., following two intense hours of activity, political and military, which began when Dayan informed Eshkol that the Jordanian army was no longer retreating but returning to its former positions. The Jordanians would try to hold their ground until a cease-fire came into effect. Though the IDF had yet to encircle the Old City, Dayan averred, it had better move swiftly to breach it. Eshkol agreed, and Dayan, supplied with an attack plan by Rabin, assigned Haim Bar-Lev to oversee the operation. His orders were brief: reach the Jewish Holy Places as quickly as possible and refrain from using heavy weapons.