Years of Upheaval

by Henry Kissinger

  General Gamasy was less restrained. He considered the Israeli ideas on arms limitation outrageous; stripping the east bank of the Canal of any tanks and thinning out the thirty-kilometer zone on the west bank would leave Egyptian forces there weaker than before the war. The plan, affirmed Gamasy, was designed to improve Israel’s security and weaken Egypt’s. It had so many political components, moreover, that as a military man he would not be the appropriate person to sign it nor would Kilometer 101 be the right place since it was dedicated to military matters.

  Gamasy, in short, came close to dissociating the Egyptian military from the negotiations. Disciplined, dependable, the architect of the Suez Canal crossing, with none of the ebullient passion characteristic of some of his colleagues, he could not be dismissed as emotional. A man of absolute reliability and with no visible personal ambitions, Gamasy was clearly the key to the armed forces’ support of the agreement.

  Sadat listened sphinxlike with slightly narrowed eyes. Then he asked: “Can we form a working committee from both sides here?”

  “Certainly,” I replied, and to give him a chance to work out the Egyptian position with his associates I added: “Would you like us to leave you alone now?”

  Sadat puffed on his pipe. “No, because we first have to agree, you and I, on the principles on which they will work.” And with this he asked me to go with him into the study.

  Sadat sat pensively in the corner of his sofa. “Do they mean it?” he asked. I said that I thought the Israeli negotiating team would not change the Israeli forward line because it was two hundred yards from the only north-south road on the west side of the strategic passes. If they withdrew beyond it, there would be no logical stopping point except inside the passes; this in my judgment would never be accepted by the Israeli Parliament as part of the first phase of disengagement. As for the arms limitations in the various zones, there might be some flexibility though I had not heard anything to that effect in Jerusalem. The principal question Sadat had to decide was at what speed he wished to move. Some of the terms could no doubt be improved but it would take a prolonged negotiation. He would have to judge what might happen in the interval in the Arab world. The Soviets would surely maneuver to thwart the whole negotiation. Disengagement could become engulfed in the haggling over the formation of a new Israeli cabinet, which would start when the new Parliament assembled in a week’s time. And the differences between what might ultimately be attained and what might yet be negotiated this week might not prove all that significant.

  Sadat knew, of course, that he could not let the Third Army sit in the desert for months more; also, a diplomatic confrontation involving us would run counter to the change of alignment that was the essence of his strategy.

  Sadat reflected silently for several more minutes that, with our diplomacy hanging in the balance, seemed endless. “Fools,” he mused almost to himself, and it was not clear immediately that he was talking of the Israeli cabinet. “Why do they seek to humiliate Gamasy so? If I want to attack, I can put hundreds of tanks across the Canal overnight; if I don’t want to attack, it makes no difference how many tanks there are.” I replied that the Israelis meant these conditions not as a humiliation but as a sop to conscience; it was to prove that something was gained for what, however dressed up, would amount to a unilateral retreat into the Sinai; it was to calm Israeli hard-liners; and above all it was to still the nagging sense of insecurity I had described earlier.

  Sadat continued to brood. And then, stunningly, he made the decision that ensured the success of the negotiation. He agreed that the Israelis could remain at a line at the west end of the passes. But he would not give up the three kilometers in the southern sector to the UN as Israel had wanted; Israel would have to withdraw the extra distance there. Israel could not have its way everywhere. It was vintage Sadat, brave and calculating, at once trusting and devious. The demand reflected Israeli domestic pressures more than military analysis; he pulled its teeth without giving up anything essential. And in the process he committed America to the outcome.

  As for limitations on deployment, Sadat said he could not permit anyone to tell Egypt what its main line of defense was to be on its own territory. Nor could he go along with the Israeli plan for forward zones and zones of limited armaments. The various restrictions on armaments were too complicated. To simplify matters he proposed that only two lines be defined: the forward Israeli line (just west of the passes) and the forward Egyptian line (six to ten kilometers east of the Canal). The territory in between would be the UN zone. Limits on deployments should then be expressed in kilometers behind each side’s forward line. Sadat accepted the principle that neither surface-to-air missiles nor artillery be placed where it could reach the other side’s forward line; he tentatively decided that the appropriate distance for surface-to-air missiles was thirty kilometers behind Egypt’s forward line (or ten kilometers less than Israel was proposing, since Israel was measuring distances from the Canal). But he wanted to let Gamasy express his views. It would go down hard with his Chief of Staff and I should do my best to improve these distances.II

  As for the specific limitations, the two or three Egyptian battalions that Israel would permit across the Canal were too few. He would prefer ten battalions; but he would accept the maximum number that I could extract from Israel so long as it approached that figure. Furthermore, he could not tolerate a total prohibition of tanks on Egyptian territory. His infantry units had trained with them; without tanks they would feel defenseless. He would leave it to me to define a number Israel could accept on the east bank. This was needed for Egyptian self-respect. The same applied to artillery. In consultation with Gamasy, I should find some calibers and units that were compatible with the principle of not reaching beyond the forward line. I warned that the Israelis had given me no maneuvering room with respect to either tanks or artillery. I doubted that they would go along with more than fifty tanks across the Canal. Thirty would be safer, I suggested, and I might fail altogether. Sadat replied that he would settle for any number so long as the principle was assured that Egyptian forces were not barred from Egyptian territory.

  None of these obligations could be expressed directly to Israel, however, Sadat added. Why did I not step in with an American plan that specified the limitations? It could then be signed by him and Golda Meir. As for the political conditions, he was prepared to express his intentions in letters to President Nixon. We were free to communicate those to whomever we chose. He could not accept a formal obligation to clear and reopen the Suez Canal. But he could tell me that if he could do so as his own decision — if Israel would only stop demanding it — he would begin clearance operations as soon as both armies had reached the lines foreseen in the disengagement agreement. A formal end of the state of belligerency was out of the question; it would lead to an explosion in the Arab world. But he could accept a solemn obligation to observe the cease-fire.

  He asked for my comments. There was quite literally nothing to say. Just as in November, Sadat had accomplished the spectacular by winnowing the essential from the tactical. The key points were Sadat’s agreement that the Israelis could retain the strategic passes for the time being and his ingenious idea for arms limitations. The rest was mostly cosmetic. He and Golda both understood that the significant event would be the first major voluntary Israeli withdrawal in nearly twenty years. The details that aroused so much passion were essentially secondary; if the peace process continued, the precise location of forces at the end of the first stage would become irrelevant; if it did not, a new and tense situation would arise. The disengagement agreement, above all, would mark Egypt’s passage from reliance on the Soviet Union to partnership (in Sadat’s phrase) with the United States; and it would give us a major stake in the peace process that would be further magnified by having it be seen to emerge from an American proposal.

  The task now was to reduce the general agreement to practical form. Before we rejoined our associates, Sadat called in Gamasy and said:
“Dr. Kissinger and I have agreed on how to proceed to an agreement. You, Gamasy, will sign it” — thus quelling any thought of resistance before Gamasy had even heard the proposal. In this manner he performed the one function that a leader cannot delegate: He took on his shoulders the full responsibility.

  As we took our seats in the conference room, once more facing each other across the table, I asked Sadat: “Should I sum up our understanding of our conversation?” The subsequent exchange explains the mood of the moment of breakthrough better than any description could:

  SADAT: Please, you’re much cleverer.

  KISSINGER: But not as wise. The President and I had discussions not only of the technical provisions but also of the pros and cons of moving quickly against moving slowly at Geneva. The technical provisions might be better if done at Geneva, but we assessed the advantages of moving quickly.

  That is our assessment.

  The Egyptian line defends Egypt; the Israeli line doesn’t defend Israel. So for the Egyptians to move back their own defense line on Egyptian territory is politically unacceptable. I must say I find this a very persuasive argument.

  So I am prepared to go back to Israel with something I had never heard — to abandon all these distinctions between zones. The Israeli forces will move back to this line, and the Egyptian forces will move back to this line, and the Egyptian line is defined here — so there is no Egyptian withdrawal required. So we’ll describe any limits not in terms of withdrawal but in terms of distance between the Egyptian line and the Canal and the Israeli line.

  The second point President Sadat said is that it is very difficult for Egypt to sign in a document limitations of forces on their own territory.

  SADAT: Quite right.

  KISSINGER: So we thought of various possibilities, such as letters to the Presidents, etc. Then the President had an idea that should be explored — that we should write a letter to both President Sadat and the Israeli Prime Minister proposing certain limitations. So it is not an obligation to each other.

  SADAT: It’s an American proposal.

  KISSINGER: And there is no suggestion of who imposed what upon whom.

  The working group should prepare two documents — an agreement to be signed at [Kilometer] 101 and an American proposal to the two sides which would spell out some of the limitations. With the proviso that I have no idea what the Israeli reaction will be. It can say in the Egyptian-Israeli document that there will be limitations — which are not spelled out — in the two zones, and that all other limitations can be described in terms of distances to and from the Egyptian line.

  On limitations, the President thought the number of forces on the East Bank should be increased substantially from what the Israelis suggested. It should be left blank in the documents; I know what he has in mind but I know I won’t make the decision. He is not now prepared to accept no tanks.

  SADAT: Quite right.

  KISSINGER: Then the President and I agreed on the proposition that in these zones, which are described geographically, neither should deploy weapons that can reach the other’s line. Up to thirty kilometers from the Egyptian line and thirty kilometers from the Israeli line, there should be no artillery and no surface-to-air missiles. . . .

  I warned the President that to my certain knowledge this proposal would almost certainly be published.

  SADAT: Not from the American side.

  KISSINGER: I don’t want to put Egypt in an embarrassing position. But there is no way Israel will not publish it somehow, in their Parliament, etc. . . . Then I told the President that of the Israeli demands —

  SADAT: Political ones.

  KISSINGER: Political ones. We drop the one on foreign troops and volunteers. We drop the one on passage of Israeli ships through the Canal, and we drop the one on civil flights. On Bab el-Mandeb, we agreed that the President will write me a letter as to the actions of Egyptian forces.

  There were further technical discussions on troop deployments. I also informed Sadat that I was deferring my projected trips to Damascus and Amman until after the negotiations were concluded. It seemed to bring him great relief. We were now confident enough to plan the procedure for concluding the talks:

  KISSINGER: May I make a practical suggestion?

  SADAT: Yes.

  KISSINGER: That I meet now with my colleagues and we do two documents, then present them to you at 4:30, and then plan to leave here at 8:30, and that I notify Israel now that I plan to arrive at 10:45 and return here tomorrow night.

  They will probably need more than a day to consider it; they will need a Cabinet meeting. So I will probably be back Wednesday. There is no day that is inconvenient for you?

  SADAT: No, no.

  KISSINGER: Probably I will have to go back once more to Israel, and once more here will do it. Because the tank issue and the line issue will be unresolved.

  SISCO: What do we say to the press?

  KISSINGER: I don’t think we should say anything now. But we agreed that at some point we should say: “It is a complex issue, a difficult negotiation. I have an Egyptian map that I am now taking to Israel. Nevertheless good progress was made today, and I am optimistic that progress will be achieved.” So those who oppose the agreement won’t think it is on the verge of breaking down. My worry is that the General here hasn’t solved the problem of communicating with the North Koreans who are here, and they will shoot me down. [Laughter]

  SADAT: They are very near. [Laughter]

  KISSINGER: In what language do you communicate?

  GAMASY: Korean. [Laughter]

  SADAT: I have an idea. We will send Sisco as a test. [Laughter]

  That the four-hour session had ended — as it had begun — with a joke about Joe Sisco was a tribute to the affection both sides felt for the ever-optimistic Under Secretary of State whose skill and experience had contributed greatly to bringing us this far.

  Just after 5:00 P.M. that afternoon, the Egyptian and American working groups met in a curtained-off corner of the cavernous dining room of the New Cataract Hotel. The Egyptians were not happy with Sadat’s decision. Fahmy said so volubly; Gamasy showed his unhappiness in icy reserve. But they were both superb professionals. Now that Sadat had made the decision, matters moved rapidly. Gamasy had discovered a type of artillery that could be placed on the east bank without being able to reach Israeli lines. They were 122-mm howitzers with a range of twelve kilometers. I promised to take it up in Jerusalem. Gamasy was especially bitter about the backward movement of the surface-to-air missiles on the west bank; as a military man, he said, he would go no further than to draw a plan for a withdrawal of twenty-five kilometers, or fifteen kilometers less than Israel demanded. If Israel remained adamant, Sadat would have to make yet another decision. Sisco and I had prepared a draft for the basic Egyptian-Israeli agreement as well as for the “United States proposal” on arms limitations that both sides would be asked to accept. We went through both documents line by line. Gamasy and Fahmy excused themselves at 6:40 P.M. to submit the drafts to Sadat. Sadat would give me his reaction later when I stopped at his residence on the way to the airport.

  At 7:15 P.M., I was once again alone with the President in the study of the rest house. He wasted no time on the documents worked out with Gamasy and Fahmy. I should do my best; I now knew Egypt’s requirements; he would do his utmost to come to an agreement this week. He had reflected about what I had said about Israeli leaks of the terms, particularly on the proposed arms limits. If leaks occurred before signature, he would not be able to proceed; if they occurred after he had completed his tour of Arab capitals, he would bear up under them; if the leaks came from a secret session of the Israeli Parliament, he would understand. He would make it as easy as possible for Israel psychologically. He would permit American reconnaissance overflights of the disengagement area every two weeks provided both sides received the pictures. He had come up with an ingenious solution to Israel’s request that he promise to repopulate the Canal zone (Israel saw this as
insurance of his peaceful intentions). He could undertake no guarantee to any foreign government, even the United States, about a matter so clearly in his domestic jurisdiction as rebuilding Egyptian cities near the Canal. But he would get around it by asking us to obtain from Israel an assurance that it would not attack the population centers in the area — a pledge that made sense only in the context of a decision to return the Canal area to normal life.

  Sadat was anxious to convey to me again the depth of his desire to dissociate from the Soviet Union. He repeated that he intended to remove the Soviet reconnaissance planes from Egyptian soil and to end the Friendship Treaty with the Soviet Union in 1975. He sought a secure communication link with the United States; he wanted to begin exchanging ideas for future cooperation.

  All this was consistent, of course, with a strategy of luring America into pressing Israel for concessions. That Sadat acted for Egyptian reasons was inherent in his position as President. That he understood that Egypt’s goals were best served by reconciliation with the United States and peace with Israel marked him as a man of vision.

  The Shuttle Concludes

  WE arrived at Ben-Gurion Airport in Tel Aviv on Monday, January 14, at 11:00 P.M., a little more than twenty-four hours after having left. It had started to rain on our departure and the driving storm had increased in violence. Thus we could not use the military helicopter that the Israelis proposed to speed the trip to Jerusalem. I was not enamored of riding in helicopters in any event. In those days, before a new road had been completed, the car ride between Ben-Gurion Airport and Jerusalem took well over an hour. It gave Eban and me a chance to review the state of play, though tonight we reserved some key points for Jerusalem, where we would be joined by Dinitz, who was not only Ambassador to Washington but Golda’s trusted confidant.