A few minutes later Golda called primarily to assure me that Egypt had been the first to break the cease-fire. I mumbled something about my impression that her soldiers were obviously not heartbroken by that unexpected turn of events. Having proved my skill at repartee, I explained my thinking on the UN resolution. I suggested that Israel pull back a few hundred yards from wherever it was now and call it the old cease-fire line. “How can anyone ever know where a line is or was in the desert?” I said. Golda’s melancholy at my obtuseness was palpable even at a distance of six thousand miles. She replied: “They will know where our present line is, all right.”
Now I understood. Israel had cut the last supply route to the city of Suez. The Egyptian Third Army on the east bank of the Canal was totally cut off (see the map on page 566). A crisis was upon us.
My first effort was to gain time to defuse it. At 11:32 A.M. I contacted Vorontsov. We would not mind calling the Security Council for noon, I said, but we would not be ready to vote until considerably later. In any event, we were not prepared to accept the Soviet proposal demanding withdrawal to lines occupied at the time of the Security Council vote on the cease-fire.
At noon, Dinitz called with a rather complicated message. Its essence was that Israeli forces would not withdraw from the positions they now held. The Israeli government agreed, he said, with the argument that no one could tell where the original cease-fire line had been, so it would not accept a call to withdraw to it. Israel did not wish to undermine the authority of the UN by agreeing to an inherently unenforceable new resolution. Such delicacy showed a solicitude for the UN for which little in previous Israeli practice had prepared us. Nor did it solve our problem. We instructed Ambassador Scali in New York to stall until we had decided how to proceed.
At 12:36 P.M. an urgent message arrived from Brezhnev, this time to “Esteemed Mr. President.” It spoke heatedly of Israeli “treachery”; it offered absolute assurance that the Arab leaders would observe the ceasefire. The message’s passion was achieved at the cost of precision, for it omitted the issue likely to give us the greatest difficulty — whether Israel should withdraw and to what line. It concentrated simply on stopping the fighting. In the name of a nonexistent US–Soviet guarantee of the cease-fire — perhaps misleadingly put about by the Soviets to induce Cairo to accept the original cease-fire — it asked us to take “the most decisive measures” jointly “without delay” to impose the ceasefire. My assessment was that if a new cease-fire was all that was wanted, our task would be relatively easy; if an Israeli withdrawal was envisaged, we were in for a tempestuous time.
To preempt a more concrete Soviet proposal, we interpreted Brezhnev’s message in the first sense in our reply, which went out under Nixon’s name within the hour and which treated the available facts as more clear-cut than we really felt they were:
I want to assure you that we assume full responsibility to bring about a complete end of hostilities on the part of Israel. Our own information would indicate that the responsibility for the violation of the cease-fire belongs to the Egyptian side, but this is not the time to debate that particular issue. We have insisted with Israel that they take immediate steps to cease hostilities, and I urge that you take similar measures with respect to the Egyptian side.
At 1:35 P.M. I conveyed our decision to Vorontsov. We would support a new call for a cease-fire and for a return to the positions occupied by the two sides when the cease-fire became effective. I warned Vorontsov that the location of that line would have to be negotiated between Egypt and Israel. And I left no doubt that we expected that argument to be prolonged. “We want you and us to be slow about that debate,” I said. Vorontsov seemed eager to enter into the spirit of my approach: “Let them argue but just not fight.” For good measure I added that everything would be simpler if Egypt released Israeli prisoners.
It took Vorontsov only five minutes to check with Moscow and confirm its acceptance. At 2:26 P.M. Brezhnev took the unheard-of step of reiterating it in another message to Nixon. We still did not know exactly where the Israeli army was located. But the urgency of Soviet communications left little doubt that the Egyptian army was in perilous straits.
We thought we had given Israel the maximum flexibility to bargain; it could use this negotiation to press some of its other concerns, especially the release of prisoners. But Israel wanted what we could not grant: a veto over all our decisions regardless of the merits of the issue and a free hand to destroy the Egyptian Third Army.
That Tuesday afternoon, October 23, we received a blistering communication from Golda, which Dinitz read to us. She chose to construe the proposed new Security Council resolution as an Egyptian-Soviet imposition growing out of an Egyptian violation of the cease-fire: “It is impossible for Israel to accept that time and again it must face Russian and Egyptian ultimatums which will subsequently be assented to by the United States.” It was, of course, hardly an ultimatum to ask Israel and Egypt to cease firing and to negotiate a return to a line we had carefully not specified. We had modified the original Soviet proposal substantially in Israel’s favor. But all the frustrations of the three difficult weeks found expression in Israel’s reaction. Golda informed us that Israel would not comply with the proposed resolution or even talk about it. Israel seemed determined to end the war with a humiliation for Egypt. We had no interest in seeing Sadat destroyed — even less so via the collapse of a cease-fire we had cosponsored. And if Israel had been less shaken by the events of the previous weeks, it too would have understood that what it sought would end any hope for peace and doom it to perpetual struggle. For if Sadat fell, the odds were that he would be replaced by a radical pro-Soviet leader; Soviet arms would in a measurable time reconstitute the equivalent of the Third Army; and sooner or later there would be another war reviving the same dilemmas we had just barely surmounted. The peace process dominated by us would end before it was even started; when restored in an uncertain future, it would be under much less favorable auspices.
The Israeli cabinet was too absorbed in its national travail to share that perspective. Its goal was revenge and the restoration of its reputation for invincibility. Never having known peace, it saw little point in giving up a tangible gain — however acquired — for a vague American intuition about a possible peace process. The victim of several past wars erupting out of armistice conditions, Israel did not consider the violation of the latest one a major international event.
Matters looked dramatically different in Cairo. At 3:15 P.M. an urgent message from Sadat direct to Nixon was delivered through intelligence channels — the first time Sadat’s name was cited explicitly as the originator, demonstrating the gravity of the situation. Sadat made the extraordinary proposal that the United States, with which Egypt had not had diplomatic relations for six years, should “intervene effectively, even if that necessitates the use of forces, in order to guarantee the full implementation of the cease-fire resolution in accordance with the joint US–USSR agreement.” The letter went on to allege (based probably on Soviet misrepresentation) that the United States had offered a “guarantee” of the cease-fire: “What is happening now, in the light of your guarantees, does not induce confidence in any other future guarantees.” Though threatening the end of the budding US–Egyptian relationship, the letter nonetheless concluded: “with warmest regards.”
The Egyptian proposal that we use American forces against our ally Israel was, of course, no more tenable than the Israeli desire that we run diplomatic interference while it strangled an Egyptian army trapped after the cease-fire. So we decided to stick to our course of working to stop the fighting and then to encourage a negotiation over the location of the cease-fire lines. At 5:15 P.M. I replied to the Brezhnev message of early in the day that had been addressed to me (before the messages to Nixon). Duplicating Nixon’s reply but going beyond it in specificity, I affirmed that we had agreed to a new joint resolution, despite some reservations, because of the importance of making the cease-fire effective. Su
pport of the cease-fire was coupled with considerable vagueness as to what the parties were supposed to do afterward. I stressed the difficulty of determining the actual positions at the time the October 22 cease-fire went into effect:
As I said to Mr. Vorontsov, and as he confirmed, our willingness to accept the principle of your Security Council proposal was made possible when your government assured me that it will show moderation when differences ensue between the parties, as to the [cease-fire] positions in dispute.
And I stressed again that an immediate exchange of prisoners would be extremely helpful in assuring an “effective cease-fire.”
Late Tuesday afternoon, we replied to Sadat on behalf of Nixon. We disposed first of the Soviet claim that the United States had “guaranteed” to enforce the cease-fire: “All we guaranteed — no matter what you may have been told from other sources — was to engage fully and constructively in promoting a political process designed to make possible a political settlement.” Nevertheless, our message continued, we had on our own urged Israel to comply with Resolution 338. At the same time we recommended that Egyptian forces, too, maintain the cease-fire.
At 8:30 P.M. Dinitz informed me that I could pass Golda’s solemn pledge to Sadat that if Egypt actually observed the cease-fire, Israeli forces, too, would stop shooting. The generosity of this proposal was somewhat diluted by Dinitz’s admission that all roads to the Third Army had been cut. Starving the Third Army out would be a slower process than destroying it militarily. But it would lead to the same result and was almost certain to bring about a confrontation with the Soviets. They could not possibly hold still while a cease-fire they had cosponsored was turned into a trap for a client state.
Still, that problem was, I hoped, not yet upon us. Israel had agreed to a new cease-fire, and, not unanxious to claim credit for our part, I sent a conciliatory note to Hafiz Ismail. I urged that Sadat ask his army to stop firing. To leave no loophole I added: “Should he decide to issue such an order Mr. Ismail may, if he wishes, inform Dr. Kissinger of this fact for the guidance of the US side should other governments approach us.”
Thus by the end of Tuesday, October 23, calm seemed to have been restored. The Security Council passed Resolution 339, which reaffirmed the October 22 cease-fire and “urged” (not “demanded” — a minor drafting achievement in which I took a pride not requited in Israel) the parties to return to the previous lines.IV Israel and Egypt agreed to observe it effective at 7:00 A.M. local time the next morning, October 24 (1:00 A.M. in Washington). In addition, late on October 23, Syria finally announced its formal acceptance of the cease-fire.
At a minimum we seemed to have regained maneuvering room for diplomacy. Haig had told me Tuesday night that Nixon was “down, very down” over Watergate. Eight impeachment resolutions had that day been submitted to the House of Representatives Judiciary Committee. But I knew that whatever happened in his personal tragedy, Nixon would be firm and acute in the complicated diplomacy ahead of us.
The Alert: October 24–25
CRISES have their own momentum. A halt of military activities suited our diplomatic purposes but it ran counter to military realities. Egypt’s Third Army was bound to try to break out of its encirclement; cease-fire or not, Israel would be reluctant to give up the opportunity to end the war with a knockout blow.
Waiting for me in my White House office at 8:00 A.M. Wednesday morning, October 24 — the new cease-fire theoretically seven hours old — was a message from Hafiz Ismail informing me that “the Israelis have resumed their attacks.” Sadat would be communicating with Nixon again urgently to seek “effective measures to oblige Israel to observe the cease-fire.”
Dinitz was reached at home but said he needed time to get to his office, which had a direct line to Israel. At 9:22 A.M. he was at last ready to talk. He told me the trapped Egyptian Third Army had tried to break out of its siege in three directions: west toward Suez City, east toward the Mitla Pass, and north toward the Egyptian Second Army. It was being repulsed everywhere; all Israel was doing was defending itself and just “blocking” the Egyptian offensives (in the process of which Israel somehow seized the Egyptian naval base at Suez). I cannot say that I gave Dinitz’s report credence equal to my affection for him. I could understand efforts by a trapped army to attempt to lift the siege, to break out toward its supply base. But an attack toward the Mitla Pass would be away from its cut communications; it could have no strategic objective. I could more easily understand an Israeli effort to collapse the Egyptian bridgehead on the east bank of the Canal. “If you wind up tonight having captured 20,000 Egyptians,” I warned Dinitz a few minutes later, “you won’t be able to tell us that they started the fighting.”
No sooner had I finished with Dinitz than Sadat’s message to Nixon arrived. Israel had resumed the assault, Sadat charged, pleading with Nixon once again “to intervene, even on the ground, to force Israel to comply with the cease-fire. That much you have promised.” It did not sound like the communication of a man who believed his army to be on the offensive.
I immediately informed Dinitz. It was clear that if we let this go on, a confrontation with the Soviets was inevitable. Gone too would be all hopes for a new relationship with Egypt, together with all prospects for negotiation. Late the previous evening, the Soviets had issued an official statement warning Israel of the “greatest consequences” if it did not stop its “aggression.” All the factors that had elicited the alerting of the Soviet airborne divisions and the augmentation of the Soviet fleet in the Mediterranean had increased in ominous importance now with Brezhnev’s personal involvement. I told Dinitz that the art of foreign policy was to know when to clinch one’s victories. There were limits beyond which we could not go, with all our friendship for Israel, and one of them was to make the leader of another superpower look like an idiot. I said to Dinitz that if Sadat asked the Soviets, as he had us, to enforce the cease-fire with their own troops, Israel would have outsmarted itself.
Dinitz replied that Israel would stop fighting if the Egyptians did, and he offered to allow American military attachés from our Embassy in Tel Aviv to go to the front to verify that the cease-fire was being honored. I recognized these as essentially time-wasting devices. By then a battle had already been going on for the better part of a day. It would take many hours of exchanges to establish another cease-fire and to get American military observers to the farthest part of the Sinai.
But in foreign policy one must do with what one has. We promptly replied to Sadat. Whatever our suspicions, the message from Nixon steered a carefully neutral course, informing Egypt of our opposition to offensive operations and holding out the carrot of opening peace negotiations:
The Israeli government has replied to the effect that the attacks are being initiated by the Third Egyptian Army; that Israeli forces are on the defensive and have been ordered to only shoot back on attack. From here, the true facts are impossible to determine. I want to assure you that the U.S. is unalterably opposed to offensive Israeli military action and is prepared to take effective steps to end them. In the meantime, could you make sure that all military action is stopped also by your forces. Secretary Kissinger is getting in touch with Mr. Ismail later today about the possibility of direct conversations between our two sides about post-war diplomacy.
We had not yet heard from Moscow. But it was probable that Sadat had sent a similar urgent appeal to Brezhnev. Transmission, translation, and deliberation would waste some time. But I was certain that we would not have to wait long for a chilly blast from Moscow.
I decided to preempt it. At 9:45 A.M. I called the just-returned Dobrynin to tell him that “the madmen in the Middle East seem to be at it again.” Without much conviction, I said that each side was claiming to be the victim of attack by the other. Since there was no point in being on the defensive, I asserted that “this time the Egyptians may have started it but we are not sure. We have no real basis for judgment. I just want you to know what we are doing.” I explained th
at we had asked the Israelis to stop offensive operations. They had agreed if Egypt reciprocated; we would do our utmost to see that the cease-fire was enforced. Dobrynin had no instructions; he would have to report to Moscow. That suited me fine. Twenty minutes later, around 10:10 A.M., I gave the Soviet bureaucracy something else to ponder. I told Dobrynin, as if it were a major concession, of Israel’s suggestion that American military attachés visit the front to observe the cease-fire until UN observers arrived. I was also sending him a copy of the latest Nixon message to Sadat. This would give the Kremlin a face-saving formula if it was seeking one; it was also a general sign of goodwill.
On the theory that so long as other countries are studying your communications they cannot be thinking up initiatives of their own, we briefed Sadat on the latest developments:
We have just been informed by the Israeli Prime Minister that strict instructions have been issued to Israeli armed forces to stay in defensive positions and not to fire unless they are fired upon.
In response to your proposal for U.S. ground observers, the Israeli Government has also agreed to permit U.S. military attachés to proceed immediately to the area of the conflict in order to observe that these orders are being carried out.
It would be very helpful at this time if you could instruct your own forces accordingly.
But events in the Middle East had developed a momentum not controllable by such maneuvers. At 10:19 A.M. Dobrynin called with the news that another message from Brezhnev was on its way. It was sharp but as yet unspecific. Its salutation was simply to “Mr. President,” dropping the “Esteemed” of the previous day. It informed us in some detail of “defiant” Israeli attacks on both sides of the Suez Canal within hours of the agreement to the latest cease-fire resolution. Its conclusion was as vague as its tone was menacing:
Years of Upheaval Page 85