by Uzi Eilam
We returned from our trip to the US with the image of the giant laser shooting down quickly maneuvering helicopters and destroying experimental rockets. We knew that the films documented only the high powered lasers’ success stories and not its failures, but what we saw was sufficiently convincing. Before long Katyusha rockets attacks from Lebanon on northern Israel began with increasing frequency. Operation “Accountability” (din v’kheshbon), which Israel launched in July 1993 in response to the firing of Katyusha rockets against the border town of Kiryat Shmona, ended with a memorandum of understandings that was meant to ensure quiet along Israel’s northern border with Lebanon. By then we already understood that we would need to find another way to address the threat of rocket fire from Lebanon, preferably based on active defenses. We began discussing the idea of using high-power laser beams to destroy rockets in mid-flight. Our initial work in this direction was modest, and was limited to asking the Americans to allow us to test the laser’s ability to penetrate the body of a Katyusha rocket.
Katyusha rockets presented a number of challenges. Developed and produced by the Soviet Union with the massive engineering style common to all Soviet systems, the body of the rocket was made of 10 millimeter-thick steel. The rocket was designed to revolve around its axis to increase flight stability. This was good aerodynamics with an additional advantage that could not have been foreseen by the Katyusha’s designers. Even if a radar locked on the missile the laser following the radar‘s guidance would not be focused on one point but rather on a ring created by the rocket’s revolving motion.
With the support of our friends at SDIO we received permission to begin testing at White Sands. We did not need to use the full strength of the Miracle laser. During the static tests, which began with unarmed warheads and ended with the complete destruction of explosive warheads, we already knew we were on to something important. To assess the laser’s ability to intercept rockets in mid-flight, we had to import rockets and a launcher to the American testing area from Israel. As the Americans were not willing to assume responsibility for maintenance or the safety issues involved in the tests, MAFAT had to bring army munitions personnel with experience preparing and launching Katyusha rockets. The day of the first test arrived, and the tension in the Miracle laser control room in the testing area ran high among Americans and Israelis alike. The rocket was launched and rose carelessly into the sky. On the screen, a blinking light suddenly appeared on the warhead, and then, a few seconds later, we saw an explosion on the screen and the Katyusha disappeared. We now had two reasons to celebrate: not only because of the success of the development process, but more importantly because we crossed an historic threshold proving the feasibility of intercepting rockets in mid-flight.
Project Nautilus, or THEL (Tactical High Energy Laser), was now underway, but its difficult beginning must be understood as part of a longer road lined with challenges. The US Army did not like the idea and was not prepared to cooperate in developing the system and understandably was not eager to spend tens of millions of dollars on the project. As a world superpower, the US is not willing to arm itself with systems that cannot operate anywhere in the world under all-weather conditions. The overall conception of the US military called for the use of compact, mobile vehicles that could be transported in large cargo planes to any place on earth. Congress, however, exerted pressure on the Pentagon, and the US Army continued to cooperate with the project against its will.
In 1996, the United States and Israel signed an agreement to develop a laser system to intercept rockets. For Israel, it was urgent to deploy two experimental systems in Kiryat Shmona, even though we knew that they would initially not be mobile. Calculations based on test data indicated that two such experimental systems would be sufficient to effectively — but not completely — defend both the town and a large portion of the Galilee panhandle. This was not the first time Israel went operational with a weapons system that was still in its final stages of development. In this instance necessity dictated principle, and we quickly realized that being able to observe the system in operation under realistic conditions was a great advantage, as it would significantly shorten the development process. We carried out dozens of tests in which Katyusha rockets were intercepted by the Miracle laser at the White Sands testing area, and our success was compelling. However, there were still many obstacles, such as the toxicity of the laser’s chemical substances, the need to reinforce the laser fuel tanks against sabotage and damage from artillery shrapnel; and, above all else, the budget, which had to come not just from the US but from Israel as well.
After Israel withdrew from southern Lebanon, the general feeling was that the situation had changed completely and the threat of artillery rockets against the Galilee had decreased substantially to the point that there was now no rush to finish developing the system. The homemade Qassam rockets used by the Palestinians in the Gaza Strip were considered primitive weapons, and even though hundreds had struck the city of Sderot and other localities around the Gaza Strip they were not classified as a serious threat. Israel’s development of the Nautilus project was halted in 2004, and, needless to say, the US Army did not continue working on it alone. It took the painful blow of the second Lebanon war in which barrages of short-range Katyusha rockets fell on localities throughout northern Israel for Israeli decision makers to realize not only that the missile threat still existed but that it was more dangerous than they had thought. The firing of Qassam rockets over the years, which continued and intensified after the withdrawal of the Israeli military and civilian presence from the Gaza Strip, is proof that the efforts undertaken to develop a means of addressing the threat of enemy rocket and missile fire that began in the early 1990s were justified.
Tenders, Struggles, and Difficult Decisions
In May 1993, the Mandatory Tenders Law went into effect throughout Israel, and, despite its efforts to bypass the law, the defense ministry eventually fell into line. R&D defense projects had always maintained a decision-making mechanism to help make the right choice when it came to developers. It was relatively easy to transform this mechanism, known as the Developer Selection Committee, into a tenders committee. There were cases in which I had no choice but to get into the thick of things and chair the committee. During the process of selecting the primary developer for the Arrow missile program, discussed earlier in this chapter, MAFAT enjoyed the additional support of the US Defense Department’s Ballistic Missile Defense Organization.
Between 1992 and 1995, when Yitzhak Rabin was both prime minister and defense minister, MAFAT reached another important and difficult decision. For a number of years we had been assessing the feasibility of a new revolutionary weapon system that consisted of UAV platforms, intelligence and control and command systems, and different types of payloads carried by unmanned aerial vehicles. After proving that we possessed the technology to address the operational need and that a solution was within reach, we received a green light to begin work. During its early phases the project presented formidable technological and engineering difficulties, and its cost was estimated at hundreds of millions of shekels. For the major defense industries, it was both a challenge and an aspiration. We realized very early on that we would not be able to avoid carrying out a tender, and the professional departments of the R&D Unit began preparing the thick book containing the specifications. After the first round, two competitors remained in the running: the first was Elbit and the second was IAI, which already dominated the field of UAVs.
Some years earlier, however, a former air force officer with an innovative idea for light-weight, high-performance platforms established a small company in partnership with the Federman family. The Elbit Company recognized the latent potential of this small UAV company and added it to the list of companies competing within the aerospace industry to win the major contract.
IAI’s sense of confidence led it to designate Elta as the company responsible for the chapter on electronic command and c
ontrol. The result was a proposal that was much more expensive than the plan proposed by Tadiran as part of the Elbit-led consortium. At a very late stage in the competition, after realizing that it was not at all certain that IAI would win the tender, IAI Director-General Moshe Keret made a last-minute proposal to significantly reduce the price in hope that this would tip the scales in IAI’s favor.
The evaluation was to be undertaken by three separate teams that addressed technical aspects, financial implications, and suitability to operational need. I decided not to involve director-general Ivry or defense minister Rabin in the process while it was still underway. Due to the potential sensitivities surrounding the tender, I thought it prudent to keep the entire process entirely in the professional arena and to inform the directors only after a final position was reached.
The committee examining the proposals found that the Elbit proposal possessed significant advantages over the proposal submitted by IAI. However IAI would gain significant assets from the project, as it was designated to perform close to 50% of all future work on the project. When Elbit was selected to lead the project the IAI suffered a massive blow to its self-esteem. Reflecting his usual wisdom and caution, Ivry had no desire to get involved with the issue after the decision was made, and Rabin also chose to steer clear of the issue.
IAI’s reaction was intense and tumultuous, and its all-powerful union soon began voicing harsh criticism of the decision and exerting pressure aimed at annulling the outcome of the tender. IAI management decided to take the defense ministry to court. This step was not only unprecedented but also turned out to be unproductive for IAI, which was unable to appeal. The court ruling did little to calm things down, and the pressure of the politically powerful union continued. One day, the defense ministry’s legal advisor contacted me and asked me to consider resigning as a member of the IAI Board of Directors. Rabin was obviously behind the request, and it was clear that he was under intense pressure. My response was that I had no reason to resign and that if Rabin thought that I did, he should tell me himself. Soon after, during a routine working meeting, Rabin awkwardly and hesitantly tried to point out the conflict of interests between my role as director of MAFAT and as a member of the IAI Board. I looked up at Rabin and told him that to the best of my knowledge, the process by which civil servants were appointed to boards of directors of government companies had not changed. “With regard to the decision of the Tenders Committee,” I continued, “all I know is that I acted without bias, that I regret nothing, and that my conscience is clear. If you choose not to reappoint me after I complete my present term, I will of course respect your decision.” Rabin did not insist, and the matter was dropped.
International Contacts and R&D Agreements
As a small island in a sea of hostile enemy states, Israel has always aspired to build productive military and defense relationships with other countries. The experience acquired through our contacts with foreign countries and agencies in the course of the work of the Weapons Development Department, the R&D Unit, and other bodies was important, but in the mid-1980s we began to feel the need to transcend our exclusive relationship with the US and to begin establishing ties with Europe and the Far East.
After the Six Day War, Israel’s relationship with the US intensified. France and England made political decisions to impose an almost complete embargo on the sale of weapon systems to Israel. Even Germany, which remained politically and morally supportive of Israel, was limited in terms of the types of systems and parts it could allow itself to sell to us. Our leanings toward the US in the defense arena had a number of manifestations, which were supported by American political backing in the international arena. In addition, the Americans’ brilliant idea of providing Israel with grants, which continued to increase in value until the current level of more than $2 billion a year, obliged Israel to purchase weapon systems produced in the US. In many cases purchases were made through the technical-financial agencies of the American armed services, resulting in a diverse network of personal connections between officers of the IDF and the American military.
The ingenious aspect of American aid was that it made us extremely dependent on the US and created a situation in which all parts of the IDF and the Israeli defense establishment grew addicted to ongoing arms acquisition from the Americans. The human element also played an important role. The fact that all Israeli high-school graduates know English to some extent still helps Israelis to easily adapt to academic and business environments in the US. The US offers a full range of courses and training programs for Israeli military personnel, which have also served to increase pro-American sentiments in Israel. Local support for Israel’s pro-American policies was strengthened by countless opportunities in American higher education, including sabbaticals for academic scholars and the personnel of research labs and the defense industries.
During the 1960s and 1970s, Israeil ties with other foreign armies were based primarily on Western countries’ interest in the experience gained and lessons learned from our battles against Soviet weapon systems. As time passed and as Israel made more progress in our own independent R&D we realized that we also possessed technological assets that could be shared with friendly nations with whom we enjoyed trustful relationships. However, the more aid we received from the US, the less funds in shekels the Israeli defense establishment allocated to the development and production of Israeli weapon systems for IDF acquisition. This dynamic forced the defense industries to consistently increase the extent to which they engaged in defense exports.
Defense exports continued to expand, and the increasing international competition for weapon system markets resulted in mounting demands by the defense industries to allow them to market increasingly advanced and classified systems. The pre-export authorization process involved three primary considerations: political factors, security clearance, and, most importantly, technological factors. The professional units of MAFAT were responsible for preparing and assessing the arguments for and against issuing export permits for products in classified areas. Both the defense ministry and the IDF recognized the need for a supreme coordinating body to determine the position of the entire defense establishment on questions of export permits. The task of chairing this committee, known as the Supreme Coordinating Committee for International Contacts, naturally went to the director of MAFAT. The committee consisted of the heads of the relevant branches of the defense ministry, senior representatives of the General Staff and the services of the IDF and the directors of the IDF’s information security units. For a few years there was an increase in the amount of work assigned to the technical units of MAFAT and the other agencies involved with preparing the material for committee meetings. This in turn increased my workload but I had no doubt that it was important to invest the necessary time. Reductions in the shekel-based defense budget for IDF armament were at their height and the defense industries reinforced their international marketing teams just to keep their capabilities and their well-trained professional personnel. The results were quick to come. Not long had passed before the defense establishment calculated that only 20 percent of the work of Israel’s defense industries was being undertaken for the IDF, and that the remaining 80 percent was dedicated to export.
Defense R&D professionals found themselves being drawn into a new area of activity. Within just a few years, defense R&D emerged as a force that could play a pivotal role in establishing and maintaining defense-business related relations between Israel and other countries, and in paving the way for Israeli defense exports. As such, from the mid-1980s MAFAT became increasingly involved in the complex process of cultivating a new type of foreign relations with a unique dynamic of its own. The defense industries needed to come up with new projects to develop and market while the defense establishment recognized that the reduction in the IDF’s shekel-based acquisition budget required a different kind of effort to enable the defense industries to survive.
France
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bsp; France was and remains an important technological and industrial power and a leading force in Europe with its own global aspirations. Before the Six Day War France was Israel’s main supplier of military technology but President Charles de Gaulle imposed a total embargo on all arms exports after the war. The embargo was ostensibly to all combatants but was soon lifted for Arab states but applied rigorously towards Israel. This meant that we needed to find creative solutions to renew the relationship.
The DGA(Direction générale de l’armement) is staffed by civilians and military personnel. The officers, who at the time consisted mostly of graduates of the École Polytechnique state-run engineering school held the ranks of munitions officers. We initiated contact with DRET, the French Military Research Agency, which was headed by General Marçais, and resolved to base our renewed relationship on modest endeavors with low security clearances. MAFAT decided to establish a joint administrative and supervising body over which Marçais and I presided and to meet on an annual basis (meetings alternated between France and Israel) in order to follow the progress made on the issues of common interest. Victor Marçais was a tall, bald man with a courageous, resolute character concealed by a shining, smiling face. I came to appreciate his courage, which enabled us to forge partnerships in increasingly sensitive development projects that posed risks that he took upon himself.
During the initial phase of our renewed relationship it was clear that we would need to begin with issues involving no security risk by selecting purely civilian unclassified areas. I had no hesitations about moving forward in this direction, because I understood that it was the only way to cultivate the relationship. I hoped that the joint work would generate the trust necessary to begin work on classified subjects and the joint development of defense systems.
