The Prime Ministers: An Intimate Narrative of Israeli Leadership

by Avner, Yehuda

  There were three other people in the room: Yechiel, the new press secretary Shlomo Nakdimon, and myself.

  “We are alone,” said Begin. “My friends here enjoy my absolute trust. Speak as freely as you wish.”

  “In that case,” said Fisher in his characteristically unflappable fashion, “I personally think that what you pulled off the other week in Baghdad was something mighty, but I need hardly tell you what a hornet’s nest you’ve stirred up in Washington. As you know, they think you overdid it.” Begin was not offended. “Oh, I’m fully aware of that,” said the prime minister. “Our American friends differed with our experts as to the exact timing the Iraqi reactor would go ‘hot.’ But in all honesty, that was irrelevant to me. We had incontrovertible evidence that the reactor was going to go lethal sooner than later, and with an enemy as savage as a nuclear Iraq, tens of thousands of our children could have been annihilated or mutilated in one go. And what about the Iraqi children? They would have been incinerated or contaminated for generations by the pall of radioactive dust that would have shrouded Baghdad. It doesn’t bear thinking about.” Begin paused, and when he next spoke the anger within him found expression in an emotional eruption. It was hard to tell whether this was spontaneous, or a bit of theater designed to impress his guest, and through him President Reagan.

  “No nation can live on borrowed time, Max,” he snapped. “For months I had sleepless nights. Day after day I asked myself: to do or not to do? What would become of our children if I did nothing? And what would become of our pilots if I did something? I couldn’t share my anxiety with anyone. My wife would ask me why I was so disturbed, and I couldn’t tell her. Nor could I tell my son, whom I trust implicitly. I had to carry the responsibility and the burden alone.”

  His voice trailed off, and for a fraction of a second he seemed lost in his own reveries, but he quickly reimposed his iron control on himself, and stated caustically:

  “I hear Defense Secretary Caspar Weinberger was the one to press hardest for the aircraft suspension. Does his name suggest Jewish blood flows through his veins?”

  A glimmer of amusement lurked in Max Fisher’s eyes: “I understand his paternal grandfather left Judaism because of a dispute with a Czech synagogue, and he became an active Episcopalian. But that’s just hearsay. The story goes that in his younger days, Caspar Weinberger lost a bid to become state attorney general for California, and when asked why, he answered, ‘Because the Jews knew I wasn’t Jewish and the Gentiles thought I was.’”

  This triggered a chortle from Begin, although it faded fast, and he asked “But by what moral standards does a man like that live? Who is he trying to punish – Israel, which acted in self-defense, or the tyrannical Iraqi slaughterer who seeks to wipe us off the map?” And then, even more furiously, “Hasn’t Mr. Weinberger heard of the one-and-a-half million Jewish children who were thrown into the gas chambers and choked to death with Zyklon-B gas? What greater act of self-defense could there be than to destroy Saddam Hussein’s nuclear potential, that was intended to bring Israel to its knees, slaughter our people, vaporize our infrastructure, destroy our nation, our country, our very existence?”

  Max Fisher simply sat, eyes veiled, a picture of solidity and strength. Gently, he probed, “You’re a man of belief, are you not?”

  The question so surprised Begin it doused his fury. He answered, “If by that you mean, am I a mystic, then the answer is no. But am I a believer – do I believe in Elokei Yisrael, the God of Israel? The answer is a categorical yes. How else to account for our success in accomplishing the virtually impossible? Every conceivable type of enemy weaponry was arraigned against our pilots when they flew in and out of Baghdad. They had to face anti-aircraft guns, ground-to-air missiles, fighter planes – all there to defend Osirak – yet not a one touched us. Only by the grace of God could we have succeeded in that mission.”

  “The reason I ask,” said Fisher, in his slow manner, “is because the president is also a devout man, and because of his innate commitment to Israel, I think you and he will eventually get along just fine once you get to know each other.”

  “What do you mean, his innate commitment to Israel?”

  Mr. Fisher indulged in a satisfied smile. “Well, I myself once heard him say that for all the differences between Christianity and Judaism, we both worship the same God, and the Holy Land is the Holy Land to us both. All of us in America, he said, have our ancestry in some other part of the world, and there is no nation like us except Israel. Both are melting pots, he said, everyone coming from somewhere else, to live in freedom. Those were his words, and I believe he meant every one of them. Also, the horrors of the Holocaust seem to have left such a mark on him that I believe he feels a certain sense of moral guilt and a degree of protectiveness toward Israel.”

  Begin said nothing, and Fisher elaborated. “Reagan served in an army film unit during the war. On one occasion he processed classified films of the Nazi death camp atrocities, and these evidently shocked him so deeply that he created a film of the most graphic footage in color, which he called Lest We Forget. He kept one copy for himself, which was probably against regulations. Nevertheless, he still has it, and I’m told he occasionally takes it out to screen privately. Word has it that when each of his two sons, Ron and Michael, turned fourteen he had them sit through it. That’s how deeply he feels.”

  Begin still said nothing.

  “And you know, of course, that the Reagan administration views the Middle East quite differently from the Carter administration.”

  The mere mention of Jimmy Carter’s name caused an expression of exasperation to spread across the prime minister’s features. Tartly, he said, “Mr. Carter certainly played a historic role in helping to achieve our peace treaty with Egypt. However, he showed an increasing ambiguousness toward us, a prejudice even, when I deemed it necessary on occasion to reject his demands for excessive unilateral concessions that could put our security in jeopardy. After Camp David he even accused me, unjustifiably, of going back on my word with regard to freezing settlement activity. It was a pure misunderstanding, but to him it became a perpetual grudge.”

  “Well, I think that once we get this present Iraqi mess sorted out, you’ll be pleasantly surprised as to how our new president views the Middle East.”

  “You say he will pleasantly surprise me?” said Begin.

  “To begin with, he admires your anticommunism and tough stance. He sees the region almost exclusively through Cold War lenses; it’s black and white. We stand by Israel because Israel is on our side, while many of the Arab countries are allies of the Soviet Union. It’s as simple as that. That’s how he views the Lebanon situation, for instance.”

  Half-jokingly, the prime minister remarked, “Given his Hollywood background I’ve been told he sometimes confuses movies with real life.”

  Fisher laughed. “Some do say that in his mind, history is the saga of the brave, good-hearted men and women battling daunting odds, forever trying to do the right thing. It’s said his favorite tv show is the Little House on the Prairie.”

  Once more there was silence – a long silence. Begin sat there musing. He had heard similar reports from others of President Reagan’s favorable predisposition toward Israel. And if these reports were correct, if, for example, Reagan viewed the worsening situation in Lebanon in much the same way as Begin did – a Syrian occupation army backed by the Soviet Union bearing down on the downtrodden Maronite Christian community while bolstering the PLO’s takeover of southern Lebanon, creating there an armed enclave, a state within a state, to relentlessly harass and bleed Israel – if, indeed, President Reagan shared this read, the ramifications for a future formal alliance with Israel would be momentous. It would mean Washington no longer regarded Israel merely as a small, worthy ward or client state, to be helped by dint of common democratic values, but as a genuine ally standing side by side with America against Soviet expansionism. Here lay the makings of a fully fledged treaty of strategic coopera
tion between the two nations, so Begin thought.

  His musings were interrupted by Max Fisher, who asked, “How are things progressing with Bud McFarlane?”

  Bud McFarlane, counselor at the state department, had been dispatched by President Reagan to try and hammer out some kind of a joint U.S.-Israel statement which would put an end, or at least paper over, the dispute arising out of the attack on the Iraqi nuclear reactor, thus permitting the resumption of American aircraft deliveries to Israel.

  Bleakly, Begin answered, “I had a three-hour session with him this morning, but we’ve not yet reached an understanding on language. We are due to meet again this evening.”78

  “How do you find the man?” asked Fisher.

  “He seems a decent sort of a fellow, but I get the impression he’s not entirely comfortable with his mission.”

  “In what sense?”

  “Either he lacks experience, or deep down he knows justice is on our side and he feels awkward trying to foist on me language I cannot accept, insinuating that in some way we are culpable.”

  “I think his job is to smooth your ruffled feathers and move on with outstanding business,” said Fisher optimistically.

  “I hope you’re right.”

  He was. That evening, in the course of the onerous effort to find language that would exonerate Israel while accommodating Washington, Bud McFarlane left the room to phone the White House with a revised proposal penned personally by Mr. Begin. He soon returned, with a grin on his face and his thumbs up. “Message from the president: Well done!” he trumpeted.

  The date was 13 July 1981, and the agreed U.S.-Israel joint statement read:

  The governments of the United States and Israel have had intensive discussions concerning the Israeli operation against the nuclear reactor near Baghdad which gave the Iraqi government the option of developing nuclear explosives. These discussions have been conducted with the candor and friendship customary between friends and allies. The governments of the two countries declare that any misunderstandings which might have arisen in the wake of the aforementioned operation have been clarified to the satisfaction of both sides.79

  Congressmen of both Houses joined in proclaiming their gratitude, and foreign media, which had been particularly abusive toward Begin, apologized. Most moving of all for Begin was the letter of tribute he received, signed by one hundred of the hundred and twenty members of the Knesset – Yitzhak Rabin among them – saluting him for his courage and leadership in ordering the attack.

  The final postscript to Operation Opera came ten years later, in June 1991, when U.S. Defense Secretary Richard Cheney presented to Major General David Ivri, commander of the Israeli Air Force at the time of the raid, a satellite photograph of the destroyed Iraqi reactor. His inscription read: “With thanks and appreciation for the outstanding job on the Iraqi nuclear program in 1981, which made our job much easier in Desert Storm.”

  Still, when Menachem Begin and Max Fisher were having their tête-à-tête, the issue uppermost in the prime minister’s mind, besides resolving his differences with the U.S. over the Baghdad raid, was how to substantially upgrade Israel’s relationship with the new administration. Learning that the new president viewed Israel as a partner in the struggle against communist expansionism, an idea grew in his mind: to seek a formal agreement of strategic cooperation with the United States, and it was with this in mind that he readied himself to fly to Washington for his first meeting with President Ronald Reagan.

  Prime Minister Begin's draft of proposed joint U.S.-Israel statement designed to end the dispute with Washington following Israel's destruction of Iraq's nuclear reactor, 13 July 1981

  Photograph credit: Ya’acov Sa’ar & Israel Government Press Office

  Prime Minister Begin and President Reagan in the White House Oval Office, 9 September 1981

  Chapter 48

  Asset or Ally?

  It was common knowledge that President Reagan had a craving for jelly beans. He started chewing them in the early 1960s when he gave up smoking, and on entering the White House he had crystal jars of jelly beans placed on his desk in the Oval Office, on the table in the Cabinet Room, in the suites of his guest house, and on Air Force One, where a special container was fashioned to prevent spillage during take-off, landing, and turbulence. The tabloids reported that guests at Ronald Reagan’s inaugural balls consumed forty million jelly beans, almost equaling the number of votes he received in the election.

  “I can hardly start a meeting or make a decision without first passing around a jar of jelly beans,” quipped Reagan to Begin when they met for the first time in early September 1981. “You can tell a lot about a fella’s character by whether he picks out all of one color, or just grabs a fistful. Here, take a few.”

  Begin grinned and obliged, scooping up a small handful. “In my early Knesset days, during a particularly boring debate,” the prime minister told Reagan jovially, “I would sometimes slip out to a local movie house, where I was far more entertained by you than by my parliamentary colleagues. I owe you a debt for having once chosen an acting career.” Reagan laughed. “You know,” he said, “someone asked me how an actor could become a president, and I answered, how can a president not be an actor?”

  The jest had them both laughing. Without a doubt, his host’s genial tone and infectious bonhomie were giving Menachem Begin a sense of ease, and when the president beseeched, “Please, call me Ron. And may I call you Menachem?” – he pronounced it Menakem – Begin responded with the widest of smiles. With false modesty, he protested, “Oh, no, Mr. President,” he said, “I’m a mere prime minister and you are the president of the mightiest power on earth. So by all means call me by my first name, but I cannot call you by yours.”

  “You sure can, Menakem. I insist,” said the president.

  “In that case, Ron, I shall,” said the prime minister, elated.

  They were sitting across from one another on floral-patterned settees in the Oval Office, two note-taking aides in attendance – I being one of them. The sunny rose garden was in view through the tall windows, the presidential colors were draped next to a prominent portrait of Thomas Jefferson, and dotted around the room were mementos, plaques and signed photographs – all the bric-a-brac of a public man who had been a middling film star and a popular state governor. Begin had arrived in Washington after a summer of political success at home – beating Shimon Peres to win his second general election – yet internationally, in this, Israel’s most important relationship, the situation had been more tense. Reagan and Begin had first clashed over the bombing of the Iraqi nuclear reactor, and then, not long after, over a U.S. sale of sophisticated military equipment to Saudi Arabia. Begin could not be certain how much of Reagan’s affability was Hollywood, and how much was sincere, but having learned that the man had a genuine admiration for Israel, and already highly buoyed by his electoral triumph, he allowed himself to relax into Reagan’s bighearted fellowship.

  The first-class reception had begun an hour earlier, when the president pulled out all the stops in a ceremony of spectacular pomp and circumstance on the White House lawn: red carpet, honor guards, flags waving and bands playing. Immaculately groomed, dashingly handsome, and looking a decade younger than his seventy years, President Reagan addressed an invited crowd of hundreds, declaring, “I welcome this chance to further strengthen the unbreakable ties between the United States and Israel, and to assure you, Mr. Prime Minister, of our commitment to Israel’s security and well-being. Your strong leadership, great imagination, and skilled statesmanship have been indispensable in reaching the milestone of the past few years on the road toward a just and durable peace in the Middle East.”

  Reagan then turned to address Begin directly, and the rich timbre of his voice almost cracked when he said, “I know your entire life has been dedicated to the security and the well-being of your people. It wasn’t always easy. From your earliest days you were acquainted with hunger and sorrow, but as you have written, you
rarely wept. On one occasion you did – the night your beloved State of Israel was proclaimed. You cried that night, you said, because ‘truly, there are tears of salvation as well as tears of grief.’ Well, with the help of God, and us working together, perhaps one day for all the people of the Middle East there will be no more tears of grief, only tears of salvation. Shalom, shalom, to him that is far off and to him that is near.”80

  Stirred to the core by these sentiments, so publicly expressed, the prime minister responded in kind: “Our generation, Mr. President, lived through two world wars, with all the sacrifices, the casualties, and the miseries involved. Ultimately, mankind crushed the darkest tyranny that ever arose to enslave the human soul.” This reference to Nazism was a precursor to an assault on totalitarianism, phrased in language calculated to appeal to this anticommunist crusader. Begin wanted to reassure Reagan that America could rely wholeheartedly on Israel as a faithful ally in the incessant battle against the Soviet evil: “After World War Two, people believed we had reached the end of tyranny of man over man. It was not to be. Country after country is being taken over by totalitarianism. So liberty is still endangered and all free women and men must stand together to defend it and to ensure its future for all generations to come.” And then, softly, with deep gratitude: “Mr. President, thank you for your heartwarming remarks about my people and my country, and for your touching words about my life. I am only one of the uncountable thousands and millions who suffered and fought and persisted, until after a long night, we saw the rising of the sun.”81

  All stood to attention as the national anthems were played. Had Begin used the moment to wonder how such a lavish and splendid welcoming ceremony had come about, he would probably have guessed – correctly – that Ambassador Samuel Lewis, in whom he placed much trust, had persuaded those around the president to receive Begin with full ceremonial honors, treating him as the head of an allied government, not an obdurate dependant – which some of the president’s men considered him to be.