The Prime Ministers: An Intimate Narrative of Israeli Leadership (64 page)

Snapping the file shut he leaned toward us, dropped his voice to a mock conspiratorial whisper, and murmured, with a rascally glint in his eyes, “I’ll share a personal secret with you. Whenever I have to choose between saving the lives of our children or getting the approval of the Security Council and all those other fair-weather friends, I much prefer the former. But keep that to yourselves. Now I want to write a letter to U.S. Defense Secretary Caspar Weinberger, who I’m told has been particularly keen on punishing us. Yehuda, take this down:

“Dear Mr. Secretary, I feel I have the moral obligation to ask you that in any of your actions and judgments you consider the following: At a time when your children and grandchildren live and continue to live in the big country of America, my children and grandchildren will keep on living in small Israel which has many enemies that would like to see her be totally destroyed and disappear. Does Israel have to be punished by a weapons embargo because of this? …After you read this letter, when looking at
pictures
of your children and grandchildren, you might think that a million like them are living in Israel. It is about them that I write.”

A secretary stuck her head around the door to tell us that Max Fisher had arrived.

Begin rose to greet a powerful-looking, heavy-set man of advanced age who was a head taller than any of us in the room. He had made his millions from oil and real estate, and in recognition of his philanthropic largesse was chairman of the Jewish Agency board of governors. But more importantly for Mr. Begin on that July afternoon, Mr. Fisher was known to have clout in Washington’s Republican circles, most notably in the White House, being a longtime contributor and a trusted adviser on Israel and Jewish affairs to every Republican president since Eisenhower.

“Take a seat, Max,” said the prime minister affably, gesturing toward an armchair in his cozy lounge corner.

“I’d like a word with you alone, if I may,” said his guest, lowering his well-tailored bulk into the chair.

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 cooperation 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.