Six Days of War

by Michael B. Oren

  The units designated to take part in Victory began assembling on the night of May 24. Troops from the 35th Division reinforced the positions at Banias and Tel ‘Azzaziat, above the Golan escarpment. In Quneitra, the largest city on the Golan, the requisite units began assembling—three infantry, two artillery, and two tank brigades. Leading the attack would be two crack brigades, the 123rd and the 80th. Finally, on June 3, Syrian infantrymen began digging forward trenches for the breakthrough. Antipersonnel obstacles were removed along the sources of the Jordan, and rubber boats moved up to facilitate the crossing. The operation was to be concluded in six days.59

  Whether the army was capable of carrying out such an operation was a question never asked. The officer corps had been repeatedly purged, those ousted replaced by some 2,000 Ba‘thist-indoctrinated ‘educators.’“I worked as a teacher in the staff college,” remembered Ibrahim Isma‘il Khahya who, in 1966, became commander of the 8th Infantry Brigade. “My officers were mostly teachers, too. They weren’t ready for war.” The head of intelligence for the Golan district, Col. Nash’at Habash, had been kicked out and replaced by a mere captain, brother of a high-ranking Ba‘th official. Ahmad Suweidani, the former military attaché in Beijing, had been boosted from colonel to lieutenant general and chief of staff. Though Syria’s 250 tanks and 250 artillery pieces were generally of more recent vintage than Israel’s, their maintenance was minimal. Supply, too, could be erratic; deprived of food, front-line troops had been known to desert their posts. The air force was particularly substandard. An internal army report rated only 45 percent of Syria’s pilots as “good,” 32 percent as “average,”’ and the remainder “below average.” Only thirty-four of the forty-two jets at the Dmair and Saiqal airfields were operational.

  Yet, within the ranks, morale had never been higher. Capt. Muhammad ‘Ammar, an infantry officer serving in the fortress of Tel Fakhr, recalled: “We thought we were stronger, that we could cling to our land, and that the Golan was impenetrable. We were especially heartened by the unity between Syria, Egypt, and Jordan.” Another captain, Marwan Hamdan al-Khuli, heard that “we were much stronger and would defeat the enemy easily. We awaited the day of liberation.” Members of the general staff were no less confident. “If hostilities break out,” Tlas calculated, “the UAR and Syria can destroy Israel in four days at most.”60

  In spite of the bitter differences between them, the divisions of opinion in each, Arab nations were united as at no time in their postcolonial history. There could now be no doubt: An Arab world existed and could act. This was the moment that so many in that world had yearned for since well before 1948. Retribution would be exacted not only from Israel but from the West that had created it to perpetuate a centuries-old oppression. Algerian Prime Minister Houari Boumedienne boasted: “The freedom of the homeland will be completed by the destruction of the Zionist entity and the expulsion of the Americans and the British from the region.” Yemen’s Foreign Minister Salam agreed: “We want war. War is the only way to settle the problem of Israel. The Arabs are ready.” Even the most outspoken moderates had been radicalized. “You must be mad,” Prime Minister Jum‘a told Burns in Amman, “not a single Arab, no matter how much he might secretly want to see Nasser’s decline, wants to see it caused by the Straits of Tiran.” Rashid Karame, a nationalist Lebanese leader, told Porter how “the Arabs can no longer bear the shame of Israel and have developed total unity on the issue…In the end, the Arabs will triumph.”

  Converging on Sinai were military contingents from countries that only days before had regarded Egypt as a mortal enemy, from Morocco and Libya, Saudi Arabia and Tunisia. Even the Syrians finally relented and agreed to send a brigade to fight alongside the Iraqis in Jordan. Combined, the Arab armies could field 900 combat aircraft, over 5,000 tanks, and a half million men. Added to this was immense political might. Arab oil producers had agreed to boycott any countries that assisted Israel, to nationalize their refineries and even destroy their pipelines. The Suez Canal, warned Nasser, could be blocked. Arabs across North Africa, throughout the Fertile Crescent and the Gulf, felt bound by a single, exalted effort, as expressed by President ‘Aref of Iraq: “Our goal is clear—to wipe Israel off the face of the map. We shall, God willing, meet in Tel Aviv and Haifa.”61

  The Shortest Night

  The night of June 3-4, found the president of the United States in New York, attending a Democratic party fundraiser. Hounded by Robert Kennedy for the party’s leadership, Johnson was preoccupied with domestic politics and had spent much of the previous week at his Texas ranch conferring with senior advisers. But not even the question of his own long-term political fate could obscure the international calamity looming directly ahead.

  The chances for averting that calamity now seemed exceedingly remote. Two days before, in a meeting with senior British officials in Washington, Rusk and McNamara had virtually admitted that Regatta was dead. Congress’s “passionate aversion” to the concept, coupled with the maritime nations’ refusal to join, militated against any launch in the near future, they said. Contingency planning had ground to a halt, for fear of leaks. And even if the United States issued the declaration, there was no way of “putting teeth in it.” According to CIA estimates, the Egyptians were almost certain to fire on any American ship attempting to ply the Straits, while the Joint Chiefs of Staff reported that the U.S. forces east of Suez lacked the firepower necessary to repel a major Egyptian attack. Such conclusions appeared particularly grim in light of the passage of ten Soviet warships through the Dardanelles and into the eastern Mediterranean. Soviet vessels were now shadowing the 6th Fleet, waiting to appear as Nasser’s savior from a vile and warlike West.62

  Yet, in spite of what Saunders called the “parade of horribles” surrounding Regatta, key officials still supported the plan, the Rostows in particular. Walter continued to view free passage as a “naked principle” which the United States was duty-bound to uphold, while Eugene believed that the convoy could work, “provided we are prepared to show some muscle,” that Nasser could be vanquished “by a show of diplomatic strength and a hint of steel.” They were anxious to keep pressing the maritime nations to sign the declaration, watering down its text to expunge any connection between the Straits issue and Israel. They speculated whether oil might still be shipped to Israel under foreign flags or whether the blockade applied to the entire Straits or only to its main—the so-called Enterprise—channel.

  While the Rostows speculated, Johnson was slowly moving away from the convoy concept. He focused instead on the possibility of unilateral Israeli action of the sort described in the “Evron scenario.” Officials in the Defense Department strongly favored the option of “putting Israel out front,” as they called it, confident that the Israelis would beat Nasser and save America a direct confrontation with both the Arabs and the Soviets. The scenario in any case appeared imminent. The CIA had learned of the Israeli freighter Dolphin, berthed in Masawa but ready to sail within seventy-two hours with its cargo of oil and its crew of disguised IDF personnel. Passing through the Straits, the ship was sure to be fired upon, providing the Israelis with the pretext they needed to strike. The chances that Israel would require American assistance in the ensuing combat were, according to agency estimates, slim.63

  The dangers of such a gamble were manifest, but no less so than its benefits. “If Israel won its own battle, the Africans and Asians who sympathize with Israel…would simply conclude that Nasser had overreached himself,” intelligence sources surmised. “But in a joint Western action, their sympathies would be offset by resentment at European powers again deciding the fate of other states.” The USSR, moreover, was seen as less likely to intervene if Israel acted alone than if the U.S. stepped in on Israel’s behalf. Harold Saunders at the NSC pointed out that “holding Israel back” entailed making a long-lasting commitment to Israeli security, while forcing the blockade meant reversing twenty years of American evenhandedness, fully identifying with Zionism and abandoning Ara
b moderates to Nasser. “The only other choice is to let the Israelis do this job themselves,” he concluded. “We ought to consider admitting that we have failed and allow fighting to ensue.”

  Israel, Johnson believed, would move in two to three days, and complete the war in ten, at the very most. While the U.S. might back Israel diplomatically, there would be no collusion such as that between Israel and the Anglo-French expedition in Suez, no major military aid for the Jewish state. Rather, as Walt Rostow phrased it, Israel would move “like a sheriff in High Noon,” alone, employing the force “necessary to achieve not merely self-respect but respect in the region.” Johnson had already recommended that his staff start thinking of the postwar settlement. Thought should be given as to whether Nasser was “a Hitler…determined to crush Israel once and for all…or a shrewd operator trying to strike a deal”—again, Rostow’s words—and whether a compromise could be reached on borders and refugee resettlement.

  With a deeper sense of defeat, and less optimism, Dean Rusk had reached the same conclusions. The Israelis, he suspected, knew that Regatta had failed—“If any other country ever penetrated the American government the way they did, we would probably break relations with them”—and had resolved to act themselves. “It will do no good to ask Israel simply to accept the present status quo in the Straits because Israel will fight and we could not restrain her,” he admitted to his ambassadors in Arab capitals. At the same time, he wrote, “We cannot throw up our hands and say let them fight while we try to remain neutral.” The secretary of state summarized the history of America’s Middle East policy—its support for the territorial integrity and independence of every state in the region, its protection of Egypt from Israel, Britain, and France, and its protection of the pro-Western Arab states from Egypt. The impossibility of sustaining this balancing act, though, had now been brutally exposed. “The ‘Holy War’ psychology of the Arab world is matched by the apocalyptic psychology within Israel…Each side appears to look with relative equanimity upon the prospect of major hostilities and each side apparently is confident of success…[S]omeone is making a major miscalculation.”

  Fears of that miscalculation—and its outcome—no doubt accompanied Johnson to his reception in New York. An earnest desire to help Israel in its plight, to aid America’s allies in the Arab world, and to prevent a war that could well snowball into global dimensions had been frustrated by another war in Southeast Asia and a Western world unwilling to act. Given his constraints, Johnson felt that he had done his best, exhausting all possible options. With sadness more than surprise, he received the information whispered to him during dinner by Abe Feinberg, “Mr. President, it can’t be held any longer. It’s going to happen within the next twenty-four hours.”64

  In Cairo, Nasser spoke at a ceremony marking Iraq’s accession to the Egypt-Jordan defense treaty—an event that, according to Rusk, “livened up an otherwise quiet Sunday.” Enthusiasm was indeed generated when the president took the opportunity to restate Egypt’s claim to Tiran. He rejected any attempt to declare the Straits international, and swore to use force against any ship or ships that dared to challenge the blockade.

  Gen. Murtagi meanwhile made a note to meet with ‘Amer the next morning to discuss the still-critical shortages of supplies and officers. The general had just issued his own order to Egypt’s fighters, exhorting them to “reconquer the stolen land with…the strength of your arms and your united faith,” and reminding them that “the eyes of the whole world are on you in your glorious war against Israeli aggression.” But Murtagi himself was on vacation in Isma’iliya that evening, while ‘Amer attended an all-night party in Cairo. Nasser’s where-abouts were unknown. Sidqi Mahmud was at his daughter’s wedding; at dawn, he would join ‘Amer and a high-ranking Iraqi delegation for an inspection of the front. Much of the general staff had traveled to Bir al-Thamada airfield, there to await the field marshal’s landing.

  “The commander of the [Sinai] front wasn’t in place and the army’s commander wasn’t in place, and neither were their subordinates,” Maj. Gen. ‘Abd al-Hamid al-Dugheidi, chief of the air force in Sinai, bemoaned. “It was the first war of its kind, where all the commanders were far from their commands.” No commander, certainly, was present after midnight when the first reports arrived of intensified Israeli activity around Gaza and Rafah, and of tanks converging on the central sector.65

  Gen. Rikhye, by contrast, was convinced that war would break out the next day. In Cairo arranging the evacuation of UNEF, he had read Murtagi’s order—“a clarion call for attack”—and immediately ordered a plane back to Gaza. Beneath him, he spotted countless troops and tanks deployed “in a manner usually resorted to for a last ditch stand.” He reported the situation to New York, attesting that the “large-scale deployment of UAR army, including tanks and artillery, cannot be for anything but an offensive. There is no suitable defensible position between these points…Implications of Mortaga’s [sic] message are evident.” Rikhye intended to send the wire in the morning, though U Thant would not be present at UN headquarters to receive it. The secretary-general was scheduled to undergo oral surgery at that time, on a tooth that had become infected during his recent visit to Egypt.66

  King Hussein had a similar premonition. The Turkish ambassador had come to him with information that the war would begin the following day, with an Israeli air strike against Egyptian bases. Later, Hussein would claim that he warned the Egyptians of the probability of an Israeli attack the following day. He put his own air force on highest alert, spoke with his generals, and went to bed at 1:00 A.M. for a short and fitful sleep.67

  Katriel Katz was again called to the Kremlin, where Gromyko again reproved him for the “war frenzy” in Israel. Only this time, the Israeli ambassador lost his temper. “In Cairo and Damascus they’re calling for the destruction of a neighboring country, Arab leaders are demanding genocide, and I’m summoned to the foreign ministry of a peace-loving nation to be delivered a warning for Israel?” Gromyko listened expressionless, then explained that Israel could not expect the Arabs to forget 1956—“they have emotions too”—nor that the Soviet Union would abide by Zionist aggression. “The surest way to jeopardize your future is to choose the way of war,” the foreign minister said, then repeated several times, “Do not let your emotions get the better of you.”68

  “The IDF was wound up like a mighty spring,” Yitzhak Rabin recalled of the night before the war. “Over the weeks of waiting, they [our operational plans] had undergone repeated revision as the circumstances shifted on the southern front. We had gone through Operation Fork and Operation Hoe—what seemed like a whole farmyard of plans—on paper, on maps, with sticks in the sand. Now we would make our way through the final plan with tanks, half-tracks and trucks.”

  Rabin, on tour of the Southern Command, was summoned back to Tel Aviv to hear Dayan’s final briefing. It was short, a series of directives. The forces around Jerusalem would be bolstered, but without bringing tanks into the city. There would be no action against Jordan, not even minor land grabs, unless the Jordanians attacked first. The same order held for the northern front: no war with Syria if the Syrians sat out the war. In the south, Dayan surveyed Operation Nachshon I (after the biblical Nachshon ben Aminadav, the first Hebrew to set foot in the freshly split Red Sea) for “the conquest of the Sinai front up to the al-‘Arish-Jabal Libni line, the opening of the Abu ‘Ageila - Rafah-al-‘Arish axes, and the destruction of the Egyptian army in this sector.” Israeli forces would advance as rapidly as possible, never pausing. Though Sharm al-Sheikh was not included in the objectives—too much time was needed to reach it—captured territory in Sinai could later be traded for free passage through Tiran. Lastly, Dayan spoke about Focus, the all-out effort to annihilate Egypt’s air force before any ground fighting began. This would take place at 7:45 Monday morning, at which point the password Red Sheet (Sadin Adom) would be sounded, and the ground war would commence.

  The 275,000 men, 1,100 tanks, and 200 p
lanes of the Israel Defense Forces were ready to embark on the largest offensive in Middle East history. Only now, in the few remaining hours before dawn, did Dayan finally find time for reflection. “I was conscious at all times of the heavy burden that had become mine,” he subsequently wrote. In spite of his conviction in Israel’s ultimate survival, he also was aware of the crushing price it might have to pay. “I could not dismiss lightly the words of Ben-Gurion, who had warned against embarking on this war. Nor could I ignore the stand taken by de Gaulle, the cautionary advice of Dean Rusk, and particularly the threats of the Russians.” The Soviets, he reckoned, would be slow to react if Israel’s victory were swift. If progress lagged, however, or even stalled, the danger of intervention would multiply.

  Similar fears were experienced that night by Ben-Gurion, whom Dayan had updated during the day. “My heart is troubled by tomorrow’s action…” he wrote in his diary, “I’m very worried about the step we’re about to take…The haste involved here is beyond my understanding. Would it not really be wiser to consult [with American leaders] first?”

  Yitzhak Rabin was also haunted by the lack of full coordination with the Americans. “The government and the general staff had brought the State of Israel to war under the worst possible strategic circumstances,” he recalled. Yet the fact of having made that decision, finally, after so much wavering, was a source of solace for the chief of staff. He left the briefing and hurried home for what he later described as “my first night’s rest in weeks.”

  Grabbing a last short sleep was also the goal of Col. Lior when, well after midnight, he left the prime minister’s office. The previous three weeks, since the entry of Egyptian troops into Sinai, seemed to Eshkol’s aide “like a story taken from another planet.” Now he was scared, uncertain whether Israel could withstand a combined Arab onslaught if the preemptive strike failed. Hurrying home, Lior slipped into bed next to his wife, Zuhara, and set the alarm for 6:00 A.M. He would wake her then, and ask her to descend to the shelter.