The Last Israelis - an Apocalyptic, Military Thriller about an Israeli Submarine and a Nuclear Iran (26 page)

Except for occasional operational exchanges relating to navigation, steering, meter readings, and other technical matters, the submarine was uncharacteristically quiet. The 30 seamen who were left out of the private discussion among the most senior officers in the communications room, tried to reflect on the full meaning of everything they had just learned. If the final communication from headquarters stated that Israel was “attacked on all fronts,” and that naval command was hit and “in crisis management mode,” what did that mean for the rest of the country that had been “attacked on all fronts?” What did it mean for their loved ones? It was hard to fathom without more details but it sounded ineffably atrocious. And what did it mean to decide to do something that would kill millions of human beings in just a few hours? Each submariner struggled with these weighty questions, trying to decide for himself what was the most appropriate course of action under the circumstances.

As each submariner privately told Daniel how he would vote, the captain tallied the results. He was surprised to find that only 15 of the 35 sailors, including himself, were in favor of a strike. Nine were opposed and 11 were undecided. “At least the results make it possible to use the approach I came up with because there’ll be enough room for everyone,” he thought to himself. There would be space for up to two proponents to advocate for their preferred positions. Daniel asked those who were decided if anyone felt so strongly about his view that he wanted to participate in the discussion. Ambesah was keen on presenting his reasons for opposing a strike. Samir and Bao both insisted on the opportunity to advocate in favor of a strike, but Daniel thought that Bao was a better choice mainly because he was afraid that Samir and Yisrael could end up coming to blows if they interacted much more on this issue. Samir promised to keep his cool and assured Daniel that he would stand in the very back just past the entrance, so that the room didn’t become crowded past capacity and there would be plenty of physical distance and people between him and Yisrael. Daniel finally acquiesced to his request.

A coin-toss determined that Yisrael would speak first in the debate. Daniel asked Yisrael to rearrange the crew’s schedule of shifts so that the 11 undecided sailors plus Ambesah, Samir, and Bao could all gather in the dining area, first with Yisrael speaking to them while the captain was on duty, and then with Daniel addressing them while the deputy captain was on duty. If any follow up discussion required either of the top brass to speak on some point that arose during the other’s speech, then they would alternate shifts again.

After making all of the necessary adjustments to the entire crew’s work schedule, Yisrael approached Daniel with a printout of the revised shifts. As Yisrael handed it to Daniel he said, “Thank you for doing the right thing.” It was a gracious acknowledgement by the deputy captain that his superior didn’t have to accommodate his moral objections.

“Did you mean to include a ‘Sir’ at the end of that?” Daniel asked with a smile.

“It was implied in the statement. Otherwise, it would be you thanking me. Sir.”

“Good point. But I will thank you anyway for contributing your moral compass to the toughest situation any submariner could ever face.” They both smiled. “We may not agree, but you were right to insist on a discussion and a vote.”

About ten minutes later, Yisrael appeared in front of the 14 crewmembers who had assembled in the largest of the Dolphin’s three eating areas. Among the 11 undecideds were Boutrous, Eitan, Michael, Jacob, and Zvi. Closest to the front where Yisrael stood to address everyone were Bao and Ambesah. Samir stood in the back, as he had promised. Some of those gathered were already talking among themselves about the issue.

“If I can have your attention so we can get started,” Yisrael began. The room gradually quieted down. “Daniel mentioned that he and I have strongly different views on whether we should launch a nuclear missile attack without a valid order from the Prime Minister. But he didn’t tell you what we each think so that he could find out people’s real views rather than their personal loyalties when he conducted the initial poll. And now that we know who is truly undecided, and you are assembled here to debate the issue and decide for yourselves, I can tell you that I am firmly opposed to a nuclear strike without a complete and timely authorization from the Prime Minister.”

There was some murmuring in the room as different crewmembers commented on Yisrael’s revelation.

“My opposition rests on two basic arguments: First of all, if the Israeli Prime Minister is in a coma and there is indeed no more Israeli government or naval command because our state was destroyed, then Daniel no longer has the legal or moral authority to command the murder of millions of people in response to the destruction of our state.”

“But he’s the captain, isn’t he?” Boutrous objected. “He’s still in charge on this boat and he still has the power to make decisions for the boat.”

“I was going to suggest that you let me finish my statement first but – OK – this is an open debate, and I guess it could get as lively as the Knesset debates get, so I’ll address your point right now…Tell me, what does it mean to be the captain of this boat? How do you know Daniel is the captain when he doesn’t even have his complete military insignia on him?”

“Yisrael, with all due respect, that’s just ridiculous,” Ambesah interjected, even though he was on the same side of the issue as his best friend on the submarine. “He had both of his shoulder boards on him at the picnic and gave one of them to his daughter as a gift.”

“Maybe you should say his dead daughter now, because we have no idea if any of our families are still alive,” Samir yelled from the back.

Ambesah continued: “I think you were even there when he gave it to her. And nobody has ever doubted that he’s the captain, so why would you suddenly question this now?”

“Well, I’m just trying to make a point: that the hierarchy on this ship is determined by certain conventions, like properly displaying your full military insignia so that everyone knows your rank. Daniel hasn’t done that for the entire mission. Now this isn’t about some kind of power struggle here. I’m well aware that if we still had a naval command structure, I would still be just the deputy captain until he retired. But that’s not the point.”

“So what’s the point, Philosopher Yisrael?” Bao asked impatiently.

“The point is that everything about this boat – from who commands it to what we can do with the weapons on it – was determined by a society that apparently no longer exists any more. So things become somewhat arbitrary at that point. You can bend a small rule and say that the captain doesn’t need to display his rank properly with both shoulder boards. Or you can bend a much bigger rule and say that it doesn’t matter that the attack order expired and included only an incomplete attack authorization code. And so what you have in such a scenario is either anarchy – where everyone follows whatever rules he wants – or a dictatorship, where one person – the captain – decides everything.”

“B…But…But the captain i…is letting us de…decide,” Zvi pointed out.

“Yes, and that’s a very good thing. But my point is that when you deliberate about this question, you should all be thinking about it as simple human beings, and not as submariners on the Dolphin that is owned by the State of Israel and commanded by Daniel. Because all of that is finished, unless we receive some surprise message between now and our attack point. But that looks very unlikely at this stage, which is why we’re gathered here discussing the biggest decision ever made on a submarine. And at this point, the only thing left of Israeli society is our humanity as 35 individuals. And so that raises the question: what is most true to the society that the State of Israel was and to the Jewish traditions and values that it was created to help defend? Are we a society that condones the murdering of millions of innocent people? And this brings me to the second argument in support of my position. If, in fact, our state has been completely destroyed, then launching a nuclear strike would be wrong because it would serve no real purpose and because the vast majority of those we kill would not even be responsible for the destruction of our state. That’s neither just nor Jewish. That’s an extreme form of collective punishment.”

Bao had a lot to say on this: “This isn’t about what’s Jewish. I’m not Jewish and it couldn’t be more obvious to me that you’re completely wrong. If we’re talking about doing what’s right, then it’s right to punish evil both to reassure the rest of the world that evil deeds will not be ignored and to weaken the forces of evil. Iran made a choice. They didn’t choose to have Yoni cure cancer. They chose to destroy an entire country and all of the promise that it represented. So what do you want to do now? Send them a bouquet of flowers and say thank you? They chose the most evil possible act and they must now face the fucking consequences.”

Ambesah rejoined: “The Iranians didn’t make that choice. Their fanatical regime did.”

“I know,” Bao conceded. “But that doesn’t change the impact on us. And you could argue that they should have toppled their regime to avoid being blamed for terrible acts like this.”

“They tried, in 2009,” Ambesah replied.

“Maybe they should have tried a little harder,” Bao rejoined. “Look at how long and hard the Syrians tried. Tens of thousands died for freedom from tyranny. The Iranians could have done that too.”

“Maybe. Or maybe the Iranian leaders so completely debilitated the opposition early on that it just wasn’t possible to topple them,” Ambesah replied.

“Exactly. And what did the world do about the daily slaughter of Syrians?” Michael asked. “Nothing. So Iranians know that nobody will protect them if they dare to challenge their brutal government again. And in that case, is it really fair to punish them for not overthrowing the Iranian regime?”

Yisrael rejoined the discussion: “Bao, are you saying that if a boy can’t stop his father from beating you up, then it’s justified for you to exact violent revenge on the boy?”

Jacob spoke out after being persuaded: “Yisrael makes a good point. Our mission was to provide deterrence. But that is over now, so at this point we’re just engaged in violent revenge. And I’m sure most of the people who would be killed by our nuclear revenge would just be regular people. Some of them might even want to live in Brooklyn some day. They could have been my neighbors there.”

Eitan addressed Boutrous: “You see what I told you: we call him ‘Brooklyn’ because he can mention that place at the strangest times – like when you’re trying to decide whether to nuke Iran.” Some much-needed mirth fleetingly suffused the group, and Jacob chuckled at the joke he had inadvertently just inspired. Boutrous laughed too.

Then Michael returned everyone to the deliberations at hand. “Strategic deterrence was a ridiculous policy for Israel to have, if you think about it. I mean, it was the best we could do, so I don’t blame anyone for having this policy. But it really makes sense only for a big country like Russia, China, or the USA that can survive the first strike. What good does a second-strike do us now? It comes too late.”

Eitan launched into his own tirade: “How did the world let things come to this? An effective preemptive strike against Iran’s nuclear program was impossible for us without help from other world powers. Because acting alone we could have only delayed the nuclear program by a few years, and that would have invited an eventual retaliation from Iran. Maybe even a nuclear one. But the world did nothing and now we have this disastrous situation where we’re debating whether to nuke Iran after it destroyed our state.”

“And it’s not like the world didn’t know that this might happen,” Michael added. “I mean, Iran has been threatening to destroy Israel for over a decade.”

“Indeed,” Bao said, pulling out the printout that he kept with him. “By now, most of you have seen my long list of lovely statements coming out of the Iranian leadership. And according to the last update we received from headquarters, Iran finally acted on its threats and actually destroyed Israel – the only country in the Middle East where Yoni and I can be openly gay.”

The room suddenly grew a bit more quiet as the sailors gathered there stopped to process the surprising information they had just heard.

“What did you say?” Eitan asked, thinking maybe he misheard something.

“You heard correctly. I’m gay.”

There was an awkward silence for a moment, until Eitan broke it: “For years, we’ve shared beds, showers, lockers, and meals. I know what everyone likes, dislikes, lusts and despairs over…And you couldn’t tell anyone that you’re in love with a guy?! What other secrets are you hiding?”

Michael tried to temper his friend: “Why don’t you back off, Eitan? That’s his private business.”

“Private?” Eitan exclaimed at Michael before turning back toward Bao. “How could you hide something like that from us and then make jokes to me and Ambesah about proving that you’re circumcised?”

“Because it really was a joke, Eitan. So chill out. I'm in love with Yoni, and I have no need to show you or anyone else my dick.”

“That doesn’t ma–”

“Eitan, what the fuck’s wrong with you?” Michael asked, angrily cutting him off. “Leave the guy alone. We’re here with our lives on the line together, talking about whether to kill a few million people after our entire country was destroyed, and you’re worried about whether Bao fucks men or women? Seriously. Get a clue, brother.”

Some scattered “Amens!” were heard around the room.

“Thanks, Michael,” Bao continued. “As I was starting to say, my partner, Yoni, who came to visit me at the picnic, is probably dead now. He and I used to marvel at how the two of us can safely go to a Pride Parade in Tel Aviv, because – in any other part of the Middle East – we would risk being beaten up, imprisoned, tortured, or even sentenced to death for having such an openly homosexual relationship.”

Yisrael responded: “Well, Israel is a totally different kind of place – it’s as if you brought a tiny liberal democracy from Europe or the USA and dropped it in a huge territory full of the most tyrannical and backward regimes in the world. I mean, women are still trying to get the right to drive in Saudi Arabia. And Ahmadinejad actually said in a TV interview that there are no gays in Iran.”