The radiant robber, his brothers’ hate
Who finally achieved that what he longed for
When setting forth to rob freedom for Zion’s sake
Now fallen on honor’s field.
II
THE YEARS OF GREATNESS, 1949-1973
THE MILITARY organization that fought and won Israel’s War of Independence was, by world standards, a small and disorganized force. Apart from small elements of “armor”—in reality little but leftover half-tracks and jeeps mounted with machine guns—almost the entire force consisted of infantry armed with World War I-era rifles and badly made, unreliable, homemade submachine guns and mortars. On land the largest permanent formation was the brigade; the much smaller air force and navy were not only motley and inexperienced but depended on an incredible assortment of antiquated weapons, many bought as scrap after World War II. Though self-confident and battle-hardened, the commanders were almost entirely self-taught. With only a year or so having passed since they had emerged from the underground, they possessed no formal military education. Indeed probably not a single IDF officer had gone through so much as a company commanders course during peacetime.
Worse, the years immediately following the war (starting in 1947, it ended in 1949) witnessed considerable demoralization. When the Korean War broke out, Prime Minister Ben Gurion finally and irrevocably decided to throw in Israel’s lot with the West.1 Consequently the state lost the support of the Soviet Union, which, by allowing the Czechs to supply Israel with weapons, had done much to make victory possible. However, the quest for new “Western” allies did not prove successful at first, since Washington and the other governments were wary of driving the Arabs into Soviet arms. Furthermore, the war severed the economic ties that had linked Erets Yisrael to the Middle East, and Israel’s foreign currency holdings were wiped out at a stroke when Britain, in an act of vengeance, expelled its former colony from the sterling block.2 As the country struggled to repay its war debt—less than 20 percent had been funded by taxes—it was swamped by a wave of immigration that by 1951 had more than doubled the population. Most of the immigrants came from “Oriental,” that is, non-European, countries. Whatever their virtues, they had not achieved anything close to the educational standards and technical skills of the pre-1948 Yishuv. All these factors weighed heavily on the population—and could not but affect the IDF.
By 1973, once again, the situation would be entirely changed. The IDF had been transformed from a dirt-poor, demoralized force armed with cast-off weapons into a comparatively well-endowed, self-confident, and technologically sophisticated pocket juggernaut. Whereas the world’s leading armed forces saw their freedom of action increasingly constrained by the proliferation of nuclear weapons,3 the IDF remained relatively free of such considerations. As a result it became the envy of the world, especially during the years immediately following the Six Day War. From June 1967 on, every Israeli citizen seemed to have turned into his own Superman. As Winston Churchill might have said, seldom had so (comparatively) few achieved so much within such a (comparatively) short time.
CHAPTER 8
THE ARMY OF THE STATE
THOUGH THE WAR of Independence ended with the decisive defeat of the combined Arab armies (which, as already noted, could have been annihilated had the political decision been made), it proved but one stage in the history of the Arab-Israeli conflict. Although during the years immediately following independence there were attempts to negotiate with the rulers of Jordan, Syria, and Egypt,1 it soon became clear they would make peace (if at all) only in return for territorial concessions, which Ben Gurion adamantly refused to make. Whatever their personal feelings, the Arab rulers’ reluctance probably rested on fear of public opinion. Even before 1947 the public had been fiercely anti-Israeli; now, inflamed by the spectacle of defeat and the arrival of hundreds of thousands of Palestinian refugees, it became incensed to the point that it regarded any attempt to negotiate as treachery. Against this background, even the more peacefully inclined Arab leaders, such as King Abdullah and the Syrian dictator Husni az Zaim, felt themselves unable to proceed. Abdullah even paid with his life after being accused of negotiating with the Jews.
Whatever the reasons for the continuing conflict, during the first half of the 1950s it was obvious to Israeli leaders that a hasibuv ha-sheni (second round) had to be prepared for; indeed a children’s war game was sold by that name in shops and was quite popular at the time. The fundamental objectives always remained survival of the state and defense of its territorial integrity2—in other words a defensive aim. This, however, did not preclude offensive-minded thinking among various circles. Most radical in its opposition to the 1949 armistice agreements was Menachem Begin’s opposition Cherut Party, which contended the partition of the country represented “not a tactical error, neither a strategic error, but a historical crime.” Harkening back to biblical times when the Kingdom of Israel reached Amman and beyond, Begin and his Myrmidons regarded not only the West Bank but also Transjordan itself as legitimate targets for Israeli expansion;3 in fact the party newspaper used quotation marks when referring, for example, to the “Jordanian” government or “Jordanian” soldiers.
The Army of the State: officer school passing-out ceremony, 1955.
Then and later, neither Israeli public opinion nor government shared Begin’s designs on the East Bank (after 1967 such ambitions were quietly dropped by Cherut itself). Still, there was no denying that the Israel-Jordan border established by the armistice agreements was totally illogical, not simply because of the very difficult strategic situation it created for Israel but because it upset the country’s economy, severed its transportation network, and created new barriers where previously there were none. No less than Ben Gurion once described the loss of the West Bank and Jerusalem as bechia le-dorot (a weeping matter for generations). As early as March 1949, Allon, then at the peak of his glory as the most outstanding field commander of the War of Independence, expressed regret at not having been ordered to throw the Arab Legion out, adding that if it had depended on him the war would have ended differently.4 A similar so-called activist line was adopted by Moshe Dayan, former PALMACH company commander and Ben Gurion’s favorite general, who took over as IDF chief of staff in 1953.5 During his term the General Staff produced contingency plans for the occupation of all or part of the West Bank.6 In the end, though, they remained no more than that—contingency plans should minor hostilities along the border (and there were many) escalate.
Against this background, the new state’s fundamental politico-strategic doctrine began to take shape.7 One of the first attempts to sum up the lessons of the war was made in 1950 by the new chief of the General Staff, Yigael Yadin. Only thirty-two years old, he could rightly be regarded as Israel’s top-ranking and most experienced soldier. Some of his points might have been taken straight from Stalin’s “Five Permanently Operating Factors.”8 Others sounded as if they had been hijacked from Basil Liddell Hart (but there is no evidence that Israeli commanders had studied him before 1947). Yadin contrived to marry this combination of grand strategic ideas and strategic-operational principles with an emphasis on Israel’s permanent geographic and demographic inferiorities vis-à-vis the Arab countries—as well as the Arabs’ much greater military potential (should they succeed in mobilizing their resources).
To be specific, Yadin’s first “lesson” was the “utmost importance of the factor of the morale of the country”; second, the need for “total utilization of the war potential of the Jewish community”; third, “the outstanding importance of unity of command” as a basis for concentration and maneuver; and fourth, the importance of such age-old principles of war as surprise, the offensive, concentration, mobility, and the indirect approach.9 At the root of the entire structure were Israel’s geographic and demographic weaknesses and its supposed inability to sustain a war of attrition; hence everything hinged on moving operations into enemy territory at the earliest possible moment to deliver a sha
rp, concentrated blow. The objective was not so much to bring about complete victory, which was regarded as impractical, but to smash the Arab armed forces and gain territory that could then be used in bargaining. Since the international arena was perceived as favoring oil-rich Arabs against the Jewish state, speed in the field was essential to forestall UN ceasefires (which happened twice before, in July and November 1948). Even so, it was considered that Israel would need the passive or, if possible, active political support of at least one major power when it went to war.10
Since then these points have often been presented as some particular proof of genius on the part of IDF founders—ha-avot ha-meyasdim, as the Hebrew saying goes.11 In fact they were rather obvious and applicable to any modern country in Israel’s geostrategic situation. Had not Prussia’s Frederick the Great instructed his generals in the eighteenth century to wage short, lively wars not too far away from its own borders?12 To the informed the similarity between the IDF’s doctrine and that of the pre-1945 German army, though necessarily unacknowledged, has always been striking. Less well known is the fact that the doctrine was by no means universally accepted at first. Though himself a regular soldier in charge of the IDF, Yadin in his analysis had emphasized the role played by “the border settlements” in “containing the enemy’s advance.” By so doing he put his finger on an issue that, owing to its continuing political implications, requires some explanation.
The vulnerability of outlying Jewish settlements to Arab attacks during prestate days has already been discussed. Then, however, it was a question of defending each settlement on its own to prevent it from being overrun; whereas in 1947-1949, settlements came to be seen as important not only in and of themselves but also in strategic terms, as obstacles to invading Arab forces. But the performances of the settlements in regard to this strategic role had been mixed. In the north, Mishmar Ha-yarden, the two Deganias, Tirat Tsvi, and Gesher had fought very well and played important roles in halting the Syrian and Iraqi invasions, although Mishmar Ha-yarden was occupied and the other four were saved only when regular Hagana (mainly PALMACH) units rushed to their aid. In the center, Gush Etsion, geographically isolated and lacking reinforcements, failed to hold out against the Arab Legion, and repeated attempts to save it exacted a heavy price as reinforcements were wiped out and convoys forced to turn back. Finally, in the south the Egyptian army had overrun one settlement, bypassed several others, and failed to conquer at least one (Negba, which was supported by regular Israeli forces). Perhaps a fair judgment would be that the settlements did in fact successfully resist invasion so long as they could not be bypassed and so long as they were not on their own. Indeed to expect farmers, however well armed and motivated, to do more in the face of heavily armed regular forces borders on the preposterous.13
During the early fifties the question of rural settlement and defense was heavily loaded with political and ideological overtones. In the eyes of the ruling socialist parties the settlements, as much as the IDF, were the key to the possession of Erets Yisrael; although the army could conquer territory, only the kibbutsim and moshavim had the power to “liberate” it from desolation and convert it to Jewish land. Thus the left-leaning members of Israel’s government, like the political parties they represented, were inclined to exaggerate the military role played by the hagana merchavit (territorial defense) before independence and during the War of Independence itself and to insist that hagana merchavit be allowed to play a role in the defense of the country. As is always the case, the fact that settlements were provided a role also meant that resources had to be allocated to them—much to the resentment of the IDF.14
The argument as to the respective advantages of a regular, centralized armed force on the one hand and those of territorial defense on the other went on for years after the 1949 cease-fire. So long as conditions remained unsettled and infiltrators represented a major problem—which continued to be the case until the 1956 Sinai campaign discussed later—the two schools wrestled one another without arriving at a clear decision. After all—regardless of what the IDF might say—one could hardly leave settlements to their fate without causing demoralization and despair. Next, the period between 1956 and 1967 appeared to have brought about the victory of the TSAHAList school. The Suez campaign brought home to the Arab rulers the dangers of allowing infiltrators to cross the border into Israel. As they took measures to control the situation, day-to-day security tended to improve, and the settlements’ arrangements for self-defense were gradually allowed to decay.
The entire question of territorial defense was reopened with the 1967 war and the subsequent expansion of Israel’s borders. Since then public opinion has remained divided. In a curious reversal of roles, the right—particularly the national religious right—now insists that the “settlements” (meaning those located in the Occupied Territories) were a vital aid to the country’s defense. By contrast the left, denying what had previously been a pillar of its own thought, insists only settlements in the Jordan Valley are of any value and that the rest merely represent “a strategic burden” that itself requires protection by the IDF. The debate, which has profound implications for the future of Israel and its security, persists (see Chapters 12 and 20).
In the early 1950s, however, this role reversal was in the future. Meanwhile the government implemented Yadin’s basic lessons in regard to the need for a single organization with a unified command and strict top-tobottom authority. Ben Gurion’s 1948 victory over Galili, as well as the dismemberment of the Yishuv’s other fighting organizations (ETSEL and PALMACH), had ensured that the Jewish state would have a single army unreservedly subordinate to a single civilian government. Although that relationship was not explicitly embodied in law until 1976,15 it has never been questioned. In the half-century since the Israeli state was established it is virtually impossible to find a case where the military openly challenged the civilian authorities.16
In theory the top-level chain of command was and remains clear, running from prime minister to minister of defense to chief of staff. In practice, however—the Agranat Commission investigated the question in the wake of the 1973 war17—the exact division of labor among the three has never been clearly defined. The result is that much depended on personalities. Some prime ministers (David Ben Gurion, Levi Eshkol, Menachem Begin, Yitschak Rabin during his second term, and Shimon Peres) preferred to act as their own ministers of defense. Others inserted a third person between themselves and the COS; he in turn might be civilian (Pinchas Lavon, Shimon Peres, Moshe Arens) or former military (Moshe Dayan, Yitschak Rabin, Ezer Weizman, Ariel Sharon, Yitschak Mordechai). Some prime ministers felt confident about defense matters and kept the military on a short leash (Ben Gurion, Eshkol until 1967, and Rabin). One (Golda Meir) refrained from doing so while frankly admitting she did not know exactly what a division was.18 Another (Menachem Begin) kept meddling even though his military knowledge had been acquired during his kindergarten years and barely developed thereafter.
The fact that the IDF obeyed its political masters did not mean it was without influence on defense planning and, through it, Israeli policy as a whole. In fact the opposite was the case. Defense minister Ben Gurion had a weakness for uniformed personnel and was inclined to belittle the importance of the civilian ministry itself. The Israeli defense ministry had grown haphazardly out of Rechesh, Hagana’s arms-acquisition agency, and Ben Gurion at least initially saw it as no more than an organization charged with providing whatever the IDF wanted;19 during 1952-1954 he even received proposals aimed at abolishing the ministry and transferring its functions to the General Staff. Though these ideas were rejected, compared to its modern counterparts Israel’s civilian defense establishment remained rather underdeveloped. Thus, it was not until 1958 that the defense ministry succeeded in wrenching control of the defense budget from the General Staff financial department.20 Even then, long-range planning and force development continued to be the responsibility of the IDF. The latter in turn entrusted those
tasks to relatively junior officers— lieutenant colonels and lower—who were not even members of the Plenary General Staff (forum MATKAL).
Worse, Israel does not have a national security council or an intelligence czar responsible for coordinating internal and external, civilian and military, and strategic, political and economic intelligence. As a result, the IDF’s intelligence division not only is the principal provider of enemy intelligence—along with Mossad (Institution), Israel’s foreign secret service—but also is responsible for preparing the National Intelligence Estimate. In fact the head of military intelligence is a frequent participant in Cabinet meetings, a situation unheard of in other democratic countries. Imagine if Pres. George Bush, preparing for Desert Storm, had nobody to turn to for advice except the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff—who in turn entrusted his G-2 (chief of intelligence) to produce not only the services’ but the national intelligence estimates.
Such arrangements—as demonstrated by the IDF’s surprise by the 1973 October War and again by its preparations for the unsuccessful 1982 Lebanon War—did not always make for sound planning. In fact it could be argued that but for the undisputed (if not always clearly defined) authority of the prime minister and minister of defense the IDF during much of its history has been all but immune to civilian criticism and control. Information on defense matters is provided by the prime minister and minister of defense only to the Knesset Foreign Affairs and Defense Committee. Not only is that committee sworn to secrecy; it lacks any sort of independent research organization. Furthermore, and unlike the U.S. Congress, for example, Israel’s legislators do not have authority to subpoena officials (or anybody else) to testify under oath or otherwise. Hence even today neither the Knesset nor the committee exercises effective control over the defense budget; indeed so clueless was the committee that as late as February 1974 Dayan told it that Israel did not possess nuclear weapons.21 Nor has the committee ever been able to seriously oversee issues such as orders of battle, organization, arms procurement, research and development, personnel, contingency plans, foreign deals of the arms industry, and the like.
The Sword And The Olive Page 15