by Uzi Eilam
The establishment of the Israeli R&D Unit can be regarded as a typical example of a structural change that helped generate new values and a consolidated approach that differed markedly from past approaches to defense development, research policy and R&D management. This new framework incorporated all the military issues with the issues that were under the responsibility of the civilian section of the defense ministry under one roof, and enabled us to address them as a whole. As a result of this integrative approach Israel’s Administration for the Development of Weapons and Technological Infrastructure, known by its Hebrew acronym MAFAT, still oversees technological infrastructure, intermediate development issues, and large projects with the assistance of administrative bodies and project managements frameworks. With this experience we can conclude that structural change should not be a goal in itself, but rather should serve as a highly effective tool for bringing about substantive changes.
Our January 1974 visit to the United States concluded with a two-day visit to the capital of a Scandinavian country. Our ambassador to this country arranged a meeting in his home aimed at opening the door to defense related technological cooperation with Israel. The meetings were also attended by Brigadier General Hadar Kimchi, our military attaché in London. The central figure in the talks was the director of defense R&D of the host country, who had been heading its defense research in recent years.
We were welcomed to the capital city by the cold of the Scandinavian winter with thick snow falling around the clock. Despite the bitter cold outside, the atmosphere inside the ambassador’s home was warm and cordial. A crackling fireplace created a serene, pleasant atmosphere, and we spent dinner getting to know one another and discussing the Yom Kippur War and current events in the country in question. The country’s director of defense R&D turned out to be a wise and witty man and a wonderful conversationalist. We quickly found ourselves engrossed in a discussion on military, technological and political issues, and found ourselves agreeing on the importance of the human factor in all these fields. The meeting gave us the feeling that we had made a true friend. Without any ceremony we laid the foundation for defense-related technological cooperation that included electro-optics, an area in which the country in question excelled. Years later, Israel’s defense industries, and primarily Rafael, forged a relationship with the research and development laboratories of the country in question, a relationship that was mutually beneficial to both countries.
Many things happened during my two-week absence from Israel. Elazar signed the separation of forces agreement drafted at the Kilometer 101 talks with Egyptian CGS General Mohamed Abdel Ghani al-Gamasy. Major General Avraham Adan was appointed to the post of OC Southern Command, Motta Gur resumed his post of OC Northern Command, and Yitzhak Hofi was appointed to head the Operations Branch.
Upon my return I tried to meet Tzur as soon as possible to update him on my meetings in Washington and my two days in Scandinavia. Tzvi Tzur always spoke in understatement, and in meetings it always seemed as if he was thinking out loud to illuminate complicated situations. When I would bring up my difficulties as director of R&D he never offered direct advice. During meetings he would let the other person analyze the problem and would use delicate, insightful questions to help them formulate for themselves whatever it was they wanted to hear from him. Tzur told me that General Tal, who had been removed from the Southern Command by Defense Minister Dayan, had returned to his position as deputy CGS for special tasks. He told me that Tal was still responsible for R&D and the Planning Branch, but it seemed there were more unknown than known elements about the army reorganization after the latest round of appointments. There was no logic in removing R&D from the Operations Branch, especially when it came to R&D’s involvement with the army’s forces. On a personal level I was not happy to be back under Tal’s supervision, particularly in such a complex state of affairs.
Dayan wanted to breach the terms of the ceasefire agreement and launch an offensive aimed at encircling the Second Egyptian Army with a northward attack along the Suez Canal. This was the tactical maneuver suggested by Arik Sharon, but it had far-reaching strategic significance as well. What did the defense minister hope to achieve? Was it just an emotional decision aimed at erasing the disgrace of Israel’s unpreparedness during the difficult days at the beginning of the war when he himself spoke of the destruction of the Third Temple, the euphemism commonly used to describe Israel’s elimination? How did Dayan plan to deal with the American position, which Secretary of State Kissinger was orchestrating so skillfully?
In the situation that evolved toward the end of the Yom Kippur War, Dayan regarded Tal as an obstacle to the idea of encircling the Second Egyptian Army and made sure to distance him from the Southern Command. Avraham Tamir and I went up to see Tal in the office he had been assigned on the fourth floor of the General Staff building, far from the offices of the CGS and the Operations Branch chief. When we walked into his office we found an entirely different man, hunched over, depressed, speaking in low tones and in desperate need of encouragement. Tamir and I found out that Tal was spending most of his time preparing his testimony for the Agranat Commission, a judicial board of inquiry appointed to investigate the failings of the war. I was not happy to see Tal in such a despondent state but there was nothing I could do to ease his burden.
Elazar asked to meet with me a few days later, and when I entered his office I understood he wanted to discuss the Agranat Commission. I spent two hours with him between 11:00 p.m. and 1:00 a.m., and it quickly became clear to me that he too was tired and dejected. Elazar had to run the army, make decisions about alert levels and preparations for the possible continuation of hostilities on the Syrian front, work on appointments and try to settle the disputes between the generals. Only late at night could he find the time talk about his own predicament. His questions gave me an indication of the nature of the Agranat Commission’s inquiry into his role in the war. The questions focused on whether he had effectively prepared the army for the war and what resources he had placed at the disposal of the army. My heart went out to Elazar, who suddenly seemed exhausted and helpless. In addition to the answers and explanations that I gave that night, I promised to prepare any written material I thought might be helpful. At that point, I never imagined that the Agranat Commission would identify the CGS, the Intelligence Branch chief, and the OC Southern Command as virtually the only ones responsible for the failures of the war. As I left Elazar bleary-eyed, struggling to continue running the army while preparing his testimony for the commission I reflected upon the outrageous injustice of it all. Tal had more than enough time to prepare himself for the commission, while Elazar was left without even the minimum amount of time necessary to pull together the required information and to develop a line of defense.
Gideon Mahanaymi versus Moshe Dayan
A three-day conference of senior military commanders of the rank of colonel and higher began on February 12, 1974. The conference provided a framework in which to continue discussing the war as it had been done within the three regional commands, within the Air Force and the Navy, and within the Intelligence Branch. The conference was opened by the CGS who stated that discussion should focus on the war itself, and not its lessons. However, the tension in the air, and the many personal sensitivities and frustrations that were lurking below the surface of engagement of the issues, meant that Elazar’s request to focus on the war itself was ignored by virtually all the major participants. It was impossible to stop Shmuel Gonen from fighting to save his name and reputation from the conference podium. This was the opportunity of the ousted Southern commander to state his case before the forum that meant the most to him, and to argue that he had not failed in his duty. It was also impossible to stop Adan from launching a bitter attack against Arik Sharon. On October 7 and 8, Adan’s division had been forced to launch its own attack against the Egyptian forces that had crossed the Canal. According to Adan (and Gonen), Sharon had only one agenda —
crossing the canal — which prevented his division from taking part in the ultimately unsuccessful Operation Abirei Lev. We all remembered how terrible we felt when Adan’s division sustained such heavy losses and failed to push the Egyptian forces back across the Canal. And we all remembered Dayan’s remark about the destruction of the Third Temple after the second day of fighting.
Sharon responded to Gonen’s accusations and Adan’s stinging remarks with a combination of congenial language, humor, and brilliant ideas that bordered on demagoguery. Sharon was a true field officer, but also a master of manipulation who could use his sharp wit to identify opponents’ Achilles’ heels and take phenomenally accurate shots at them. When he took the podium to return fire he used a combination of serious arguments and stinging but humorous remarks aimed at his critics. It was a work of art that elicited outbursts of laughter from the audience. When Yitzhak Hofi, who had served as OC Northern Command during the war, took his turn to describe the war on the northern front, he simply could not refrain from directing a stinging remark southward: “The Northern Command,” he said, “will be unable to demonstrate the brotherhood of arms demonstrated by the Southern Command from this podium... ”
By the end of the first day it was clear that the conference was important, if only to bring all of us together and to give people the opportunity to express themselves, notwithstanding Elazar’s prime objective of focusing on the war rather than on the person.
The prime minister attended the second day of the conference and stayed throughout the day until after nightfall to listen to the speeches and discussions. The open discussion that followed was opened by Haim Bar-Lev, who offered comments that clarified some of the maneuvers in the south. Slowly and calmly he staunchly defended the concept of outposts. As could be expected he also defended the Bar-Lev Line, the line of fortifications built by Israel along the eastern bank of the Suez Canal during his tenure as CGS. Bar-Lev, who had been dispatched to the south after the collapse of the command hierarchy on the front, refuted the criticism against Arik Sharon and argued that the battle in the south had certainly been subject to broad command supervision above the division level.
Up to this point there was nothing new in the discussion. However, as evening approached there was a bombshell. Colonel Gideon Mahanaymi rose to the podium with a “J’accuse” speech targeting the political leadership in general and Moshe Dayan in particular. Mahanaymi belonged to the 1948 generation and had served in the Palmah as a company commander in the 3rd battalion of the Yiftah Brigade. After 1950 he held various positions in the intelligence corps. A major in 1956, he joined the paratroops, replacing me as the intelligence officer of the brigade. During the Yom Kippur War Colonel Mahanaymi served as an IDF liaison staff officer to the UN, a position typically manned by officers from the intelligence corps. Gideon approached the podium looking pale. After expressing regret that Dayan was not present in the hall, he spoke to Prime Minister Meir and to all of us. He began by describing how Danny Matt had been removed from his position as a paratroop battalion commander because soldiers had been killed in a training accident during a live-fire exercise he had conducted. He then moved on to an account of the ousting of Intelligence Branch Chief Yehoshafat Harkabi and Operations Branch Chief Meir Zorea in 1959 when Israel Radio mistakenly broadcast the code words mobilizing the army’s reservists, a débâcle that entered Israeli lore as the “night of the ducks.” Before the crowd sitting in the conference hall, Mahanaymi called on Moshe Dayan to resign. Elazar allowed Mahanaymi to finish his remarks and did not attempt to silence him, but the next morning Mahanaymi was absent from the conference. When Dayan heard what Mahanaymi had said, he told Elazar “It’s either Gideon or me at conference,” and that was enough. For many years Mahanaymi, who had not been climbing the ranks rapidly in any event, was tainted by the Mark of Cain for rebelling against the defense minister. His promotion in the army was completely halted, and he was only promoted to the rank of brigadier general in 1976, as Yitzhak Rabin’s anti-terrorism advisor.
After the drama of Mahanaymi’s speech, the rest of the conference was anti-climactic. It was only later, after the demobilization of the Israeli reserves, that the reserve soldiers started a process of mass demonstrations expressing their pain and disillusionment about the way the government had conducted the war. These demonstrations ultimately led to the resignation of Meir, Dayan, and the entire government.
Consolidation and Stabilization of the R&D Unit
It was a time of high drama both in the IDF and the Israeli government, coupled with a tense military situation and a diplomatic process that would eventually lead to a permanent ceasefire agreement. But I was unable to take even a momentary break from directing the R&D Unit. The defense ministry was about to undergo substantial changes stemming from Dayan’s announcement in February 1974 that he would not be a member of the next government. Tzur had long since said that he would soon step down from his position, a step that I was prepared for but not really happy about. Dayan had provided Tzur with authority and freedom of action that would be hard to find under another minister. Dayan would have nothing to do with budgetary issues and took no interest in the defense industries. Issues related to R&D were also not a priority for him, and even international contacts and cooperation with foreign countries could not hold his attention. All these areas of responsibility were left to the skillful care of Tzvi Tzur. Yeshayahu Lavi, who had preceded Itzhak Ironi as director general of the defense ministry but had resigned prematurely, told me in a moment of candor that his resignation was due to the diminished powers of the director general in the Dayan-Tzur era. With Tzvi’s departure, the R&D Unit stood to lose a solid source of support both within the ministry and the defense establishment as a whole. Tzvi informed me that a document he had prepared for Dayan recommended that R&D, the Production and Purchasing Administration, and the Budgets Branch be supervised by the director-general of the ministry. Director-General Ironi’s door was always open to me and I felt confident of his backing.
The relationship between Rafael and the defense industries held great significance for the stabilization of the R&D Unit. While the war was being fought at high intensity most of our attention was focused on accelerating the production lines for the ammunition and weapons systems, and on efforts to carry out rapid response to the new threats. We passed on the data about the SA-6 anti-aircraft missile systems to Rafael in an effort to find a quick solution for defending our planes. Data about the Sagger anti-tank missiles, including missiles that were collected on the battlefield, were passed on to Rafael, the Israel Military Industries and the Laskov Unit of the Engineering Corps in an effort to develop immediate responses to the threat. Rafael had found an initial, albeit only partial response to the SA-6 missile towards the end of the war. Despite our best efforts it took more time to develop responses to the Sagger missile. Many ideas were tried at the Ordnance Corp’s testing area on the Mediterranean shore, including the possibility of disrupting the missile command system in mid-flight, misdirecting the missile navigator, and physically obstructing the missile with a steel net in close proximity of the target. The simple Russian missile was not susceptible to our disruption efforts, and we only found a proper solution to the threat posed by the Sagger missile years later.
We began 1974 without the approved working plans we needed for reentry into normal life. The General Staff was still in a tumult, with continued tension in the Golan Heights and reshuffling of generals in senior posts. However, within the defense ministry Tzur was solid as a rock, and his influence enabled us to develop R&D working plans. The plans needed to accommodate both integration of the lessons of the war and the continued development of long-term projects. The Air Force, the Navy, and the Intelligence Branch had all generated lessons that were organized and well-developed in comparison to the ground forces, which were still occupied with maintaining their readiness and licking their military wounds. The defense industries were hungry for data, cle
ar plans, instructions, and budgets from the IDF and the defense ministry.
We worked a great deal on arranging a meeting of representatives of all the defense industries, which was aimed at presenting the working plans for 1974. This gathering, which we referred to as the Developers Conference, was supposed to be the crowning achievement of our return to the routine work of defense research and development. There was a surprisingly high willingness within the different industries and the IDF to participate in the conference. Tzur, who agreed to speak at the conference, was enthusiastic, persuasive, and brilliantly organized.
With the tailwind of the successful Developers Conference I had a private meeting with Tzvi Alon, director of the defense ministry’s Production and Purchasing Administration. During the meeting we agreed that contracts regarding development funded by the services of the IDF would be handled by the R&D Unit. Before the establishment of the Unit, the Production and Purchasing Administration was responsible for the defense establishment‘s contractual agreements. Now that there was a professional and increasingly stable agency within the ministry dealing with research and development, logic demanded that this aspect of the ministry’s work be directed by us. These measures won the enthusiastic endorsement of the Production and Purchasing Administration. We started to feel that we were making progress and incorporating new areas of work beyond those outlined in the founding documents of the R&D Unit. The incorporation of meaningful changes into the administrative bodies of the R&D Unit remained an essential component of the Unit’s mode of operation and development, and subsequently of the Administration for the Development of Weapons and Technological Infrastructure (MAFAT), which was established in 1980.
