Referring to Germany’s victory over France in the Franco-Russian War of 1870-1871, Nietzsche had warned his countrymen against the fallacy that a military victory constituted proof of superior culture.52 After 1967 Israelis (and others) cast his advice to the wind, looking for and dully finding “underlying” causes that explained their victory while also “proving” that it could not have happened otherwise and would happen again in the next war. Thus entire books were produced to show that Israel had “The Power of Quality” on its side.53 Statistical comparisons were made showing that Israeli academics outpublished all their colleagues in the Arab countries combined. Even if their output only consisted of purely theoretical studies—a charge often leveled at Israeli scientists during those years54—such superiority presumably translated into achievement on the battlefield.
Israelis were not content to attribute victory to intellectual qualities alone. From his post as professor of international relations at Hebrew University, Yehoshaphat Harkavi, the intelligence chief who had been fired in 1960, explained that the Arab rank and file were “amoral familists.” Thousands of years of oppression at the hands of their betters made them unable to understand the meaning of any organization larger than the family; consequently they would not fight for it.55 As chief of military intelligence, Brig. Gen. Aharon Yariv told a French writer that the “Western person” found it difficult to penetrate Arab mentality. The latter was characterized by “weakness and his lack of logic, tenacity, and faith. There is no cause that he does not wholeheartedly embrace and that he cannot betray with the same good faith, without ceasing to believe in it.... Most of the reports of officers to their colonels, of colonels to their generals, and of generals to Nasser are full of lies.” By contrast, in the IDF “we never cheat on results. We tell the truth, however painful it may be at times . . . no matter how vanity is damaged.” That was what Col. Shmuel Gonen said to the same writer56—and he undoubtedly believed it too!
As Nietzsche also wrote,57 war makes the victor stupid. In retrospect, the smashing victory of 1967 was probably the worst thing that ever happened to Israel. It turned “a small but brave” people (Dayan’s words during his radio address on the morning of June 5),58 who with considerable justification believed itself fighting an overwhelmingly powerful coalition of enemies for dear life, into an occupying force, complete with all the corrupting moral influences that this entails. The military lessons of the “feat of arms unparalleled in all modern history”59 began to be studied almost immediately. Not so its moral consequences, which were clear only to a very few—among them, rumor has it, Prime Minister Eshkol, who within days of the capture of East Jerusalem was wondering how one would ever “crawl out again.” In the event Israel and the IDF refused to crawl out, and before long they were confronted with new challenges that they found difficult to overcome.
At Bay: troops cowering in a stronghold along the Suez Canal, 1969.
CHAPTER 12
AT BAY
ALTHOUGH RABIN, Weizman, and other Israeli leaders had been aware of the IDF’s strength, the ease and rapidity of the June 1967 victory seem to have taken the Israeli public and government by surprise. This, after all, was experienced as a war for survival; hence absolutely no thought had been devoted to the question of how to terminate the war itself or to the fate of territories that might be occupied. Another factor was the fear that events of 1956 would be repeated, with Israel being compelled to withdraw against its will.1
On June 9 Dayan was handed the very first position paper that grappled with the problem. Its author, Col. Shlomo Gazit, headed the planning branch of IDF intelligence. It argued that, in return for peace and but for a few border adjustments, Israel should be prepared to hand the Golan Heights back to Syria and the Sinai Peninsula back to Egypt. The Palestinian refugee problem was to be solved by setting up an independent, though demilitarized, Palestinian state in Gaza and the West Bank. This was not the view of the other person Dayan consulted: a former intelligence colonel, Yuval Neeman, who following retirement developed into a world-renowned nuclear physicist. Israel, according to Neeman’s paper (submitted to Dayan on June 11), should seek to keep the territories it had just captured. The West Bank and Gaza Strip were to be given autonomy but not statehood. As to the problem of the Palestinian refugees, it could be solved by settling them at the town of Al Arish in the Sinai.
Facing these two extremes—roughly reflecting the division between doves and hawks, a split that persists in Israel today—the Cabinet hesitated. On June 19 it met and voted for the evacuation of practically the entire Golan and the Sinai Peninsula (both of which were to be demilitarized) but excluded the Gaza Strip; in return Syria and Egypt were to agree to a formal peace, no further interference with the sources of the River Jordan, and freedom of overflight and navigation in the Straits of Tyran. However, the government was unable to make up its mind in regard to the problem of the West Bank, that is, whether to deal with one or two Arab entities—either King Hussein or some kind of local Palestinian leadership (though the latter did not yet exist). Given Israel’s geographical configuration the West Bank was much more vital to security than the Golan Heights and the Sinai; finally (again unlike the Golan and the Sinai), the West Bank was considered by many to be sacred territory unjustly cut off from Erets Yisrael during the War of Independence of 1947-1949. Therefore it was not just security but ideological considerations that demanded it be retained—including the greatest prize of all, Jerusalem.
In the absence of serious pressure from abroad and in the wake of the Arab decision not to deal with Israel (no negotiations, no recognition, no peace, ran the resolution of the Arab summit at Khartoum), negotiations could not get under way, and Israel’s government and public gradually found their positions hardening. For Israel, at the time under Labor government, ideological and religious considerations, however noisily they were presented, played only so much of a role among key decisionmakers such as Dayan, Allon (the minister of labor), and Prime Minister Eshkol. Yet recently published documentation shows that the importance of the Occupied Territories to preventing another Arab attack against Israel was taken very seriously—as if the war had not demonstrated how easily the Arabs might be attacked and defeated by Israel.
In fact, the war totally transformed Israel’s strategic situation. In the international arena, it brought Israel squarely into the Cold War. The June 1967 victory had been against Soviet allies who were armed with Soviet weapons, supported by Soviet military advisers (the IDF claimed to have overheard them chattering on radio networks), and to some extent under Soviet political protection. As Israel’s relations with the Soviet Union, heretofore decent more or less, deteriorated—immediately after the war all the Eastern Bloc countries broke diplomatic ties—the country found itself more dependent on the West and more welcome to the bosom of its leading member, the United States. Whatever the political disagreements between Washington and Jerusalem, within months after the war the IDF began to receive a trickle of U.S. weapons, which soon grew to a flood. Now, whenever Israel clashed with Syria or Egypt the superpowers would be facing off eyeball-to-eyeball—thus placing the IDF’s military activities under much tighter constraints.
In the Middle East the demographic relationship between Israel and its neighbors remained as it had been. Consequently, any chance that Israel had of imposing peace on its neighbors remained as remote as ever; however, the war transformed the borders and made them much easier to defend.2 In the north, occupation of the Golan Heights ended the Syrians’ ability to shell Israeli settlements and secured the sources of the River Jordan. It also denied the Syrian army the advantage of height, a most important consideration in an age when the kind of accurate hits necessary to stop an advancing armored column could only be achieved by means of direct-fire weapons. In the east the Jordan Valley was considerably shorter and much easier to defend compared to the old armistice line, the more so because the topography made it almost impossible for any attacker to cross the river i
n front of a defender holding the hills. In the south the capture of the Sinai, besides leaving Sharm al-Sheikh in Israeli hands, replaced the land border between Israel and Egypt with a water border—“the most formidable antitank trench in the world,” as common wisdom had it. On all three fronts, considerable room for strategic maneuver had been created. The Arab armies were now much farther away, “Old” Israel was beyond the range of hostile artillery fire, and even the air force had gained precious warning time—in the south, at any rate.
Though they were much easier to defend, the new borders paradoxically vitiated the strategic and operational doctrines heretofore at the heart of the IDF and that, indeed, were largely responsible for its success. Until now it had been clear to general headquarters (GHQ) that, the country being impossible to defend, the IDF would have to take the initiative in any war so as to campaign on enemy territory and break the forces of the other side by means of blitzkrieg. Now, however, the possibility of conducting defensive operations presented itself, at least until the reserves arrived and enabled the counteroffensive to begin; therefore, although preemption was still often talked about, in practice it did not take place. If troops actually in place were to hold out until reserves could be deployed, then fortifications would have to be built, another deviation from pre-1967 theory and practice. Furthermore, to counter the enemy’s numerical superiority over the IDF’s mobilized forces at the outset of any future war it was proposed to employ the IAF. This in turn meant that the IAF had to abandon its doctrine of obtaining air superiority first and instead act as “flying artillery.”
As we saw, one of the critical factors in the June 1967 victory was the IDF’s ability to operate on internal lines, which, compared with Arabs, increased its force by as much as 25 percent. Following the occupation of the Sinai, however, Israel’s communications from Mount Chermon to the Suez Canal were more than twice as long as before; given there was no proper railnet, this was longer than the ground forces and the IAF could sustain. Thus Israel, though still fighting on internal lines and thus making it impossible for the Arabs to concentrate their forces, would no longer be able to shift forces from one front to another as easily as before. Add to this increased costs in supplying and maintaining forces deployed some two hundred miles away from the demographic, industrial, and transportation centers.
Last but not least, the 1967 victory revived the debate concerning the relative importance of the IDF and civilian settlements in defending the country. This debate had a political and a military aspect, as it still does. Politically, and as had been the case before 1948, it was argued that only settlements could assure a continued Israeli presence; but for them the government would have found it much harder to resist international pressure in favor of withdrawal. Militarily it was expected that settlements, although unable to resist an invading regular army (as, albeit with aid from PALMACH, some of them had done in 1947-1948), would occupy territory and play a role in combating guerrilla warfare and terrorism. Depending on the area in question, these conflicting views led to different solutions.3 Thus, in the Golan, the initiative to settle was taken by the Jordan Valley kibbutsim almost immediately after the war had ended; only ex post facto did the government ratify their action and provide support. In the West Bank, Dayan wanted to hold the watershed but, given this was a densely populated region, thought that a purely military presence would be enough. His views were rejected in favor of those of Yigal Allon, who demanded that Israel hold the virtually empty Jordan Valley and, to reinforce its hold, settle it as well.4 Only in the vast expanses of the Sinai was there no question of using settlements in order to create political facts on the ground (although a few feeble attempts to settle were made). Still, even there the area adjacent to the Gaza Strip, which Israel did not intend to return to Egypt, was settled from 1974 on.
On the face of it the decision whether and where to settle was a purely political one that involved civilians. In practice, though, the dominant question was always “security” considered in its broadest sense—the more so because it was often the IDF (by means of NACHAL) that provided “cores” for the new settlements. The result was that the role of the defense establishment in the national decisionmaking process, which compared to other countries had always been large, was increased still further.5 Nor did this situation change in March 1969, when Eshkol died and was replaced by the formidable Ms. Meir. Having made her way to the top via the Jewish Agency’s political department and later the MAPAI Party apparatus, she knew less about defense than either of her predecessors. Willy-nilly she retained Dayan, whose position as the idol of public opinion was unassailed and unassailable, but she also leaned heavily on her old crony, the hawkish Yisrael Galili, who served as minister without portfolio. Galili in turn was closely allied with fellow left-winger Allon. When the agenda turned to defense these three would be joined by Foreign Minister Eban, the IDF chief of staff, and perhaps the chief of military intelligence. Together they formed Golda’s famous “kitchen Cabinet,” where, over homemade cookies and with dishes in the sink, all the most important decisions were made.
In Israel, most Cabinet ministers had never been privy to classified defense information. Now confronted with the prestige of a defense minister and military machine who supposedly had just saved the country from oblivion by winning one of the most smashing victories in history, even fewer were inclined to argue. On a lower level the same was true, owing to the greatly increased portion of national resources that now went the IDF’s way. In 1966, the last year of “normalcy,” that portion had stood at 12.4 percent of GNP;6 by 1971 (the year after the 1969-1970 War of Attrition and thus one of relative peace) the figure had doubled to 24.7 percent. In terms of foreign currency spent on arms the increase was even greater, from $200 million to $670 million.7 The country’s heretofore modest arms manufacturing capabilities were also expanding into a true military-industrial complex (see Chapter 16). Much more than had been the case under Ben Gurion and Eshkol before 1967, Israel became like a sailing boat with an oversized keel—difficult to steer in any direction not first approved by, and serving the interests of, the defense establishment.
Against this double background of growing resources and an increasingly powerful voice in national affairs, it is no wonder that the mean, lean fighting machine of pre-1967 days became transformed. One of the first decisions was to increase the period of conscript service to three years for men and two and a half for women, thereby considerably augmenting the number of personnel available for setting up new units and for undertaking “current” security operations along the borders and in the Occupied Territories. By 1973 the twenty-one brigades the IDF had possessed in 1967 increased to twenty-six to thirty (with several of the former mechanized infantry ones converted to armor).8 Moreover, the task forces of old were now consolidated into permanent divisions complete with their own headquarters, staffs, divisional troops, and the like. To solve the resulting organizational problems another rank, that of tat-aluf (brigadier), was inserted between that of aluf mishne (colonel) and aluf (brigadier general). The outcome was that the COS, as the highest-ranking officer, went up from major general to lieutenant general; his immediate subordinates, the brigadier generals, became major generals.
Even more important than numerical expansion was the improvement in materiel that took place. Whether because of financial difficulties or because various states refused to sell it arms, the IDF prior to 1967 had been a relatively poor army, to the point that in 1964 more men were available than arms and the decision was made to cut back the length of conscript service from thirty to twenty-six months9 (after a year, with new arms coming from West Germany, the IDF reversed itself). Almost all arms had been provided by France and Britain, with only a trickle of U.S. arms coming in the form of Hawk antiaircraft missiles and M-48 Patton tanks. Immediately after the Six Day War, however, French Pres. Charles de Gaulle blocked the delivery of fifty Mirage V fighter-bombers already paid for; in January 1969 the prohibition was transfor
med into a total embargo (though individual French officials and firms sometimes defied their government and continued supplying Israel as best they could for as long as they could). With its entire order of battle consisting of French-built machines, the IAF felt a particularly heavy blow. For a time it was desperate for new aircraft and spare parts.
In the event, the French embargo resulted not in the gradual suffocation of the IDF but, on the contrary, in its transformation into a modern army well armed from the much larger U.S. arsenals. Among the first weapons to arrive were the A-4 Skyhawk attack aircraft, which had been promised before the war.10 Then, after considerable bargaining, the much more powerful F-4 Phantom fighter-bombers arrived during the winter of 1969- 1970. By October 1973 the IAF had some 150 of the former and 100 of the latter; the total number of first-line combat aircraft had been doubled to somewhat over 400. Even these figures underestimate the magnitude of the change, however, since Skyhawks and Phantoms could carry four to six times more ordnance than older French aircraft and deliver it much more accurately. Aided by South Africa, whose air force also used the Mirage III, the IAF was able to keep some of its own Mirages flying. In addition it started building its own version of the Mirage V on the basis of stolen blueprints, although the operational number in October 1973 is not clear.
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