Instead, Dayan after 1973 was never the same again. Throughout the war he had oscillated between despair and euphoria, at one time recommending deep withdrawals in the Sinai, then constantly proclaiming premature victories whose announcement threatened our agreed diplomacy. He reminded me of a gambler who, having lost at roulette, sought to recoup by constantly doubling his bet. He was too close to his dream of becoming the Prime Minister of peace to let that dream go and yet too far from his destiny to be able to grasp it by an act of will. He had neither reached the pinnacle as had Golda, for whom the length of her stay on it had become irrelevant, nor had he fallen into the abyss like Elazar. He was suspended between his ambition and his premonition, too big to attack, too insecure to withdraw, too sure that this was his hour to admit that it was the wrong moment and thereby perhaps preserve himself for his ultimate mission. And so at the Guest House he was alternately taunting and encouraging. Only when he thought himself unobserved could one discern the underlying melancholy and frustration that were to embitter thereafter the life of that extraordinary personality.
On this emotion-laden visit, I had three meetings with Golda: first privately from 1:35 to 2:15 P.M.; then over lunch with a larger group of officials of both sides from 2:30 to 4:00 P.M.; and then at a military briefing from 4:15 to 5:00 P.M.
Golda’s first question when we sat down in a back room concerned not the war but her nightmare for the future: Was there a secret US–Soviet deal to impose the 1967 borders? When I denied this forcefully, she asked whether there was a deal to impose any other frontiers. I denied this as well. As she explored all possible permutations of American duplicity, she exemplified the enormous insecurity inherent in Israel’s geographic and demographic position and its total dependence on the United States. For two weeks we had stood by Israel’s side, supplied its armories, risked and finally suffered an oil embargo, synchronized diplomacy, and achieved far more in Resolution 338 than foreseen in the first week when direct negotiations between Arabs and Israelis were never even being considered. Yet now the almost palpable relief at the war’s end gave rise to acute uneasiness about its implications. For twenty-five years, Israeli diplomacy had striven for direct negotiations. Now that this achievement was at hand, Golda was nearly overwhelmed by the realization, still mercifully obscure to her colleagues, that the agenda for these negotiations would face Israel with the awesome dilemmas it had avoided for too long.
Israel’s historic dread was clothed in Talmudic exegesis. A great deal of time was spent on whether Paragraph 2 of the cease-fire resolution — the pledge to implement Resolution 242 — was organically related to the direct negotiations provided for in Paragraph 3 of the resolution. In other words, would the direct negotiations be confined to implementing a return to the 1967 borders, or would Israel have the right to put forward its own interpretation of 242? I reassured Golda and her colleagues that there were no secret deals nor any restrictions on what could be put forward by any of the parties.
In short, Israel’s insecurity was so pervasive that even words were daggers. Golda knew very well that not even the attainment of its stated goals could compensate for the altered psychological balance. I asked whether she thought Sadat could survive the military setbacks of the last phase of the war. Golda replied matter-of-factly: “I do. Because he is the hero. He dared.” She was right. Israel was at a disadvantage, even though the war ended in success, because its task was beyond the human scale. It could not prevail by force simply by defeating its enemies; it had to crush them so that they could not revive. Given the disparity in numbers — the city of Cairo alone having twice the population of the entire State of Israel — no nation, however heroic, could sustain such a task indefinitely. This is why for Israel peace is as necessary as it is terrifying. The real issue on my visit to Israel was whether peace could be made while the heroic spirit still held and before the pounding waves submerged the lonely rock.
During the luncheon, a message was brought in informing us that Egypt had accepted the cease-fire, effective at 5:00 P.M. Cairo time (actually two hours ahead of the deadline). The Israeli reaction around the table was a mixture of relief, exultation, and resignation — veering uneasily between hope and suspicion. A desultory discussion about ground rules ensued, soon submerged by a confusion that so often occurs at historic moments. There was uncertainty about whether Cairo and Tel Aviv were in the same time zone; so wide was the gulf between the two societies that no one seemed to be able to find out. I sent Eagleburger to a phone to check it out with Washington. While waiting for the official word, I suggested that Israel solve the issue by setting the time for 6:52 P.M. Israeli time — exactly twelve hours after the cease-fire resolution — and let Cairo translate that into Egyptian time. (It turned out to be the same.)
Later in the afternoon, a military briefing told us for the first time what we had attempted to extract from the Israelis for a week: the exact location and objectives of their forces on the west bank of the Suez Canal. Maps showed all Egyptian routes of supply to the Third Army cut except one secondary road in the extreme south. The Israeli officers praised the fighting qualities of the Egyptian and Syrian armies; they were less impressed by Iraqi units they had encountered.
I left Israel elated and yet somber. We had achieved our strategic objective, but it had only opened the way to an unknown terrain that would require discipline, unity, and purpose to traverse. That Egypt was eager to negotiate was reflected in a new message from Hafiz Ismail inviting me to stop in Cairo on my return trip from Israel. I did not think Israel’s anxieties could stand this or that we were in fact prepared for a serious dialogue with Egypt ourselves. I therefore turned it down politely:
The Sinai Front: Cease–Fire Line after the October War
Secretary Kissinger thanks Mr. Ismail for his kindness in inviting him to visit Cairo. Unfortunately, the invitation was received only after the Secretary had left the area and was well enroute to London. However, now that the cease-fire has been achieved, he accepts with pleasure Mr. Ismail’s kind invitation to visit Cairo at an early date. He looks forward to fixing a mutually convenient time in the very near future, and to the continuation of exchanges with Mr. Ismail, using this channel.
In the meantime Washington had exploded after the “Saturday night massacre.” Flying west, I had had only two brief reports. One from Scowcroft had noted in a message on other topics:
The all-consuming preoccupation of the moment is with the Richardson/ Cox/Ruckelshaus affair. Comments about impeachment are rife in all media. The cease-fire news, of course, made big front page headlines but this latest Watergate crisis has the effect of overwhelming everything else.
Haig cabled me in greater detail:
Unfortunately, you will be returning to an environment of major national crisis which has resulted from the firing of Cox and the resulting resignation of Richardson and Ruckelshaus. Because the situation is at a state of white heat, the ramifications of the accomplishments in Moscow have been somewhat eclipsed and their true significance underplayed. For this reason, it is essential that you participate fully in maintaining the national perspective and that a major effort be made to refocus national attention on the President’s role in the Middle East settlement. An impeachment stampede could well develop in the Congress tomorrow although we are confident that cooler heads will prevail if the President’s assets are properly applied.
As of now, the President believes that it is essential that we have a bipartisan leadership meeting tomorrow at the White House during which you can report in detail on the Middle East situation, lacing this report with heavy emphasis on the President’s accomplishments thus far and the need for national unity and a steady hand in the critical days ahead.
It was Monday evening, October 22, during my stop at Heathrow Airport near London to brief Sir Alec Douglas-Home, that I got from British newspapers the full flavor of what had happened. Impeachment proceedings were beginning. I was heading back toward the capital of a nation
that, even while contributing to peace in the Middle East, was consuming its authority at home.
The Cease-Fire Unravels
SIR Alec was relieved that the war had ended, but uncertain about whether the cease-fire would take hold. He had information that Syria’s President Hafez al-Asad was planning an offensive to start the next day; the war might erupt all over again. So as not to waste time with further communications via Washington, Home’s Foreign Office aides got the Soviet Ambassador to London on the phone for me. Reacting with initiative to the unexpected is not a specialty of Soviet diplomats. It took me some time — and no little assistance from the British Foreign Office personnel — to convince him that I was not an impostor. The hapless Ambassador, probably wishing he had accepted a dinner invitation for the evening, made me dictate exactly what I wished to convey, turning a conversation into a message. I told him Israel had accepted the cease-fire resolution. If Syria started an offensive, we would not be responsible for the consequences. He did not run the risk of volunteering a comment.
But the Middle East never fails to teach one the limits of human foresight. The cease-fire indeed unraveled, though not in the manner we feared at Heathrow Airport. Just as the war seemed to be winding down under the aegis of the superpowers, and our media were beginning to rediscover a measure of merit in US–Soviet détente, the confrontation we had managed to avoid for seventeen days suddenly burst upon us.
The trouble was along the Suez Canal. I reached Andrews Air Force Base near Washington at 3:00 A.M., early Tuesday, October 23, and went home to bed after a long day that had begun in Moscow with intermediate stops in Tel Aviv and London. When I arrived in my office later that morning after four hours’ sleep, I found two messages: one from Cairo, the other from Jerusalem. Hafiz Ismail tersely informed me that Israeli forces had broken the young cease-fire and were in the process of occupying new positions. Egypt was taking “all necessary measures to ensure its security.” Ismail inquired what the United States and the Soviet Union were doing to secure Israeli compliance.
The message from Ambassador Kenneth Keating in Israel was much longer and infinitely more complex. Golda had just invited him for a long review. She began by pointing out that there was considerable domestic opposition to the cease-fire; she would win the approval of the Israeli Parliament though not without tough sledding. She then complained, quite rightly, about the incongruity of the Jordanian position: Hussein had publicly accepted the cease-fire on the West Bank (where no shooting had been going on) but was hiding behind Syrian failure to issue cease-fire orders in the area where there was actual fighting (and where Jordan had sent forces). Since she studiously avoided discussing the Suez front, Keating mentioned a briefing he had received earlier in the day from the Israeli military alleging wholesale cease-fire violations by Egypt. Some might view these claims with skepticism, Keating said delicately, since the Israeli forces seemed to be gaining ground. He was sure Golda was aware of this danger. Golda admitted that her military commanders had pleaded for “two or three days more” to complete the encirclement of the Third Army in the south (a fact never communicated to us while we were in Moscow), but the cabinet had overruled them. Unfortunately, during the night and well after the cease-fire had gone into effect, she maintained, the Egyptians had broken the truce and mounted a massive attack. In these circumstances she had ordered the Israeli army to continue fighting until the Egyptians stopped.
I shared Keating’s skepticism. The previous day’s military briefing in Tel Aviv did not suggest a substantial Egyptian offensive potential; nor did the first part of Golda’s remarks to Keating imply that Israeli commanders would be meticulous about the cease-fire. I also had a sinking feeling that I might have emboldened them; in Israel, to gain their support, I had indicated that I would understand if there was a few hours’ “slippage” in the cease-fire deadline while I was flying home, to compensate for the four hours lost through the communications breakdown in Moscow. But this new fighting was continuing far beyond the brief additional margin I had implied. We were by now nearly twenty hours beyond the deadline. Nor did the Israelis claim — then or ever — that they had any sanction for their efforts save self-defense. On the other hand, Ismail’s and Golda’s comments were still relatively mild. They did not suggest an imminent crisis.
The import of the two messages had obviously not yet been absorbed in Moscow. Or else the Kremlin, like us, considered any violations the normal final pangs of a bitter conflict. Rather, at 7:50 A.M., Soviet Chargé Yuli M. Vorontsov (Dobrynin not having returned yet from the Soviet capital) transmitted to us a positive reply from Moscow to my warning sent from Heathrow about an imminent Syrian offensive:
Having received Secretary Kissinger’s communication we made appropriate steps. Now we would like to inform Dr. Kissinger that in connection with the latest resolution of the Security Council no actions of that type as we have learned are being contemplated on the part of Syria.
Around 9:30 A.M., UN Secretary-General Kurt Waldheim called to report that Egypt had formally complained of Israeli cease-fire violations and wanted a Security Council meeting. Waldheim suggested introducing an international force from Scandinavia and other countries to police the cease-fire. I told him I would consult my colleagues and the Soviets.
A few minutes later I discussed methods of policing the cease-fire with David Popper, the Assistant Secretary of State in charge of United Nations affairs. He thought that the handiest means available was the UN observers group that had previously been stationed along the Suez Canal.
I then spoke to Vorontsov. To get matters started on a positive note, I asked him to thank Brezhnev for Soviet hospitality. At the same time I stressed that the agreed joint “auspices” for negotiations — to which the Soviets had paid so much attention — presupposed the rapid fulfillment of Brezhnev’s promise to bring about the release of Israeli prisoners of war. I then turned to the main purpose of my call, which was to inform Vorontsov of the reported cease-fire violations, with each party accusing the other. The best remedy, I said, would be to have the Security Council instruct Waldheim to call on the parties to observe the cease-fire immediately. We would go along if the Security Council wished to send UN observers or a UN force. Vorontsov was clearly without instructions. He confined himself to cryptic grunts of “yep” and “right” to indicate that he had understood. When I offered Vorontsov the White House switchboard to speed up communications with Moscow, he declined, assuring me he would be able to get through “in no time.” In other words, as I had presumed, Dobrynin had pleaded poor communications on the first day of the war and asked for our facilities as a device to demonstrate the absence of Soviet-Arab collusion.
Within five minutes Vorontsov was back on the phone. Obviously, my message had crossed with one from Moscow, which by now was clearly alarmed. There was a note for me from Brezhnev — a highly unusual procedure, since in the past the General Secretary had invariably addressed his communications to Nixon. It took an hour for Brezhnev’s message to be translated and sent over from the Soviet Embassy. In it he told me that Israeli forces were moving southward along the west bank of the Suez Canal. This news came from Moscow’s “own reliable information” — in other words, not from Egyptian sources but presumably from the supersonic MiG-25 Foxbats that were flying reconnaissance missions from Egyptian airfields. Brezhnev called Israeli actions “unacceptable” and a “flagrant deceit,” from which one had to conclude that the Egyptians were in deep trouble. He suggested a Security Council meeting at noon — less than two hours away — reconfirming the cease-fire, and ordering all forces to be withdrawn to the line they occupied when the October 22 cease-fire resolution had passed, or twelve hours before the cease-fire was required to go into effect. (A clever Soviet ploy, this would have put the Israelis well behind the lines from which they obviously jumped off when the current fighting started.) Brezhnev enclosed a Soviet draft of a Security Council resolution embodying his ideas.
We were now in
a serious predicament. The urgency of Brezhnev’s appeal suggested that the plight of the Egyptian Third Army was far more serious than our own intelligence had yet discovered or the Israelis had told us. If the United States held still while the Egyptian army was being destroyed after an American-sponsored cease-fire and a Secretary of State’s visit to Israel, not even the most moderate Arab could cooperate with us any longer. We had to move quickly.
At 11:04 A.M. I urgently contacted Simcha Dinitz to see whether he had anything to add to Keating’s report. He did not know the location of the new battle lines. He could tell me, however, on behalf of the Prime Minister “personally, confidentially and sincerely that none of the actions taken on the Egyptian front were initiated by us.” With all my affection for Golda, I thought she was imposing on my credulity with her definition of “initiate.” It was not plausible that the Egyptian Third Army should launch attacks after a cease-fire that had saved it from being overwhelmed; and that it should then immediately ask everyone within reach for yet another cease-fire, shooting all the time at passive Israelis who were only defending themselves while advancing.
But this was not the time for abstract debate. I went through the Soviet draft UN resolution with Dinitz. I told him we would not go along with the Soviet formulation that the parties return to the lines existing when the cease-fire resolution was adopted by the Security Council. But I did not see how we could refuse an appeal to return to the lines existing when the cease-fire went into effect (twelve hours later). I said we favored the introduction of UN observers. Dinitz promised to seek instructions.
Years of Upheaval Page 84