By Professor Paul Eidelberg*
My Talks With Israeli Leaders 1976-1978:
A Question Of Truth
*******************
Shortly after making aliya [immigrating to Israel] in August 1976, I was asked by my friend General Chaim Laskov (z”l), a former IDF Chief of General Staff, to meet with Shimon Peres, then Minister of Defense under the Labor-led government of Yitzhak Rabin. The American presidential election was two months or so away, and Laskov wanted me to share my thoughts on the subject with the Defense Minister.
Mr. Peres and I met in his Knesset office. He was accompanied by his confidant, Yehoshafat Harkabi, a Hebrew University professor of political science and former head of military intelligence. Toward the end of a 50-minute meeting, I was asked by Peres: “What do you think will be Israel’s main problem in the United States after the November presidential election?” I replied: “To counter the Arab slogan of ‘self-determination for the Palestinian people.’” To my astonishment, Professor Harkabi responded by saying “That’s irrelevant.”
I was astounded because Harkabi should have known that the Arab slogan of “self-determination for the Palestinian people” provides the government of the United States with a democratic pretext for appeasing Arab dictatorships linked to American corporate interests in the Middle East, especially in the Persian Gulf. Surely Harkabi was aware of the two-fold fraud in that Arab slogan. Inasmuch as he himself had written that Islam is a “combatant,” “expansionist,” and “authoritarian” creed, it should have been obvious to him that Islam, both in theory and in practice, utterly rejects the democratic principle of self-determination.[1] Indeed, at the time of our meeting he was on record as saying that an Arab Palestinian homeland is “a euphemistic equivalent for the liquidation of Israel” (p. 473).[2]
As for the claim that the Arabs residing in Judea, Samaria, and Gaza comprise a distinct “Palestinian people,” this has ever been an Arab hoax.[3] Harkabi, a reputed expert on the Middle East, surely knew that there are no ethnic and religious differences whatever between the Arabs in question and their brethren in Jordan or even in Israel for that matter.
However, Harkabi happens to be a self-professed cultural relativist.[4] Even though he acknowledges the deadly intentions of the Arabs and goes so far as to say mendacity is an expression of their “national character,” he concludes that the Arab claim to Judea, Samaria, and Gaza is as just as that of the Jews (p. 471)!
Writing when one did not have to fear the mindless charge of racism, Harkabi admits that “the idea of the Jihad is fundamental in Islam,” so that “hatred,” “hostility,” and “conflict” are endemic to Arab culture (p. 133). He indicates that mendacity is “second nature” to the Arabs, and quotes the liberated Arab sociologist Sonia Hamady: “Lying is a widespread habit among the Arabs, and they have a low idea of truth” (p. 348).[5]
Here is a case in which cultural relativism had so enthralled a person’s intellect as to undermine, not only his instinct of self-preservation, but also—one may suppose—a natural preference for his own people. This bizarre phenomenon is strikingly evident in Harkabi’s Arab Attitudes to Israel. Virtually every page of this 476-page tome is filled with Arab execration of Jews, and in language that makes Mein Kampf’s anti-Semitic canards appear innocuous. Yet the book is dedicated “To the victims of the conflict—Jews and Arabs” alike! This suggests that, in Harkabi’s view, the Arab-Israel conflict is senseless, that there are no rational grounds for preferring one side to the other, despite his pejorative description of Islam and of Arab culture.
Still, why would it be irrelevant to reveal the truth about the Arab slogan of “self-determination for the Palestinian people”? The unseen reason is this: In the world of relativism all political claims or demands are self-justifying, there being no objective standard by which to validate or invalidate them. Which means that in the arena of domestic and international politics, truth is irrelevant.
A few days after meeting with Peres I was asked by the Defense Ministry to speak with his political adviser, Asher Ben Natan, a former ambassador to France and to Germany. During the course of our conversation I asked Mr. Natan: “What do you think is Israel’s main problem?” He answered: “We can’t lie as well as the Arabs.” To this I responded: “Then why not tell the truth?”
Evidently Mr. Peres’ political adviser—and Peres himself—was oblivious of the fact that it was their party’s failure to publicize, at home and abroad, the truth about the malevolent intentions and devious character of Israel’s Arab neighbors that had rendered the country less vigilant and less disposed to launch a pre-emptive attack to avert the Kippur War. More than 3,000 Jews were killed in less than three weeks of fighting—equivalent to over 200,000 for a nation the size of America. Political retribution for that horrible loss of Jewish life in October 1973 was not long in coming. The Labor Party suffered a stunning and unprecedented defeat in the May 1977 Knesset elections. The Likud Party headed by Menachem Begin came to power, having been in the opposition since the rebirth of the state in 1948.
Mr. Begin was promptly vilified as an “ideologue” and a Zionist “extremist” by Israel’s mass media. This was to be expected, not only because Israel’s media has always been dominated by leftwing internationalists alienated from the Jewish heritage, but also because Israeli journalists were influenced by the relativism propagated by Israel’s secular universities. To qualify as an “ideologue” you must believe in the absolute justice of your nation’s cause—in this case the Jewish people’s God-given title to the Land of Israel. Typical journalists are not “true believers,” and typical journalists dominate Israel’s media. The same may be said of the international media which maligned Mr. Begin as a “terrorist.”
To improve his international image, Begin named Moshe Dayan of the Labor party as Foreign Minister. I was introduced to Dayan by General Laskov shortly before the Begin cabinet was formed. We met at the Dan Hotel in Tel Aviv. The black patch over Dayan’s left eye, which had once given him an exotic appearance, now made him look rather sinister.
In any event, I used the opportunity to enlarge on what I had previously said to Peres and Asher Ben Natan. I reiterated my conviction that the highest officials in the Government ought to expose the implacable hostility of Israel’s Arab neighbors, and without fear of adverse reaction from the U.S. I pointed out that most Americans knew little about the Arabs, but that what they did know they disliked.
Not that I wanted the Government to vilify the Arabs. Indeed, certain positive things could be said about Arab culture. Nevertheless, in addition to educating one’s own people about the malevolent designs of Arab rulers, it was important to put those tyrants on the defensive—something Israel’s political leaders had never done. Of course foreign ministers must be “diplomatic.” But inasmuch as Israel and her neighbors remained in a formal state of war, it seemed to me quite appropriate for Israel’s Foreign Minister, or better, her Prime Minister, to take advantage of Arab belligerence. For example, he could say at various public forums: “Does King Hussein of Jordan deem the Jewish people ‘infidels’ against whom faithful Muslims must wage jihad or holy war?” Or: “Does President Hafez al-Assad of Syria regard jihad against Israel, a member of the United Nations, as a religious obligation?” Alternatively: “Does President Anwar Sadat of Egypt maintain that the Islamic concept of jihad is consistent with the Universal Declaration of Human Rights which prescribes ‘tolerance and friendship among all nations, racial, or religious groups’?”
Surely these rhetorical questions would not constitute a casus belli, even though they were bound to discomfit Arab despots while enlightening public opinion at home and abroad. Dayan, however, was a soldier, not an educator. Despite his awareness of Arab mendacity and bellicosity, he spoke as if these deeply ingrained Arab characteristics didn’t preclude lasting agreements between Israel and her neighbors—a contradictory attitude. He could say: “I believe it possible for Jews and Arabs to live together without animosity.” Yet he could also say:
[The Arabs] live in a world which is not truth and they do this almost like a man who needs hashish in order to feel himself present in the Garden of Eden. Reality is hell! The aim is therefore to swallow a lie-pill, which will give the sensation of Paradise. It often seems to me that all Arabs—and on all levels—act as though under the influence of drugs. Yet illusion is worse than a lie. You make a lie consciously and you dominate it, while the illusion will finally dominate you.[6]
But since this illusion involved the desire to destroy Israel, a desire which had erupted in the Yom Kippur War, the task of Israeli statecraft was to seize the initiative and prevent the “illusion” from erupting again to Israel’s disadvantage.
It will be objected that Israel is too small a power to take the initiative in world affairs. This has been the conventional wisdom among Israel’s political elites and their academic advisers (such as Harkabi). The Six Day War alone refutes this unwisdom. Actually, large states, more than small ones, can afford to wait or procrastinate or react to events, if only because they are less vulnerable and can therefore, in the long run, exert their will. But this procrastination, along with great power rivalry, gives a small state latitude in which to maneuver, provided its leaders have imagination, political courage, and conviction. Ever since the Kippur War, however, defeatism and pacifism have dominated Israel’s leaders, which defeatism is rooted in the decline of political Zionism.
Hardly had Begin formed his Government than he embarked on a “peace initiative.” Dayan was sent on a secret mission to Morocco, there to meet with Egypt’s Deputy Prime Minister Hassan Touhemi to whom he conveyed Begin’s willingness to cede all of the Sinai within the context of a peace treaty. Unlike Ronald Reagan, a “hawk” who facilitated the pacification of the Soviet Union, Begin, another “hawk,” facilitated the pacification of Israel. The stage was set for Sadat’s historic visit to Jerusalem on November 19, 1977.
As soon as I learned of Sadat’s forthcoming visit—it was announced the previous week—I wrote to General Laskov saying, inter alia: “I’m a bit surprised and concerned about the apparent lack of caution displayed by the government.” Sadat’s apparent willingness to make peace, I suggested, should be understood in Clausewitzian terms, that is, as a continuation of war by other means.
No less than Major General George Keegan, former head of U.S. Air Force Intelligence, had warned in an article published in The Jerusalem Post on August 5, that:
a profound change in Arab strategy is now underway ... I have seen intelligence which very few Americans have access to, that persuades me that the first element of that strategy is that the feudal leadership in the Arab world strikingly remains committed, Messianically, to the extermination of Israel as a nation and as a people. What has changed about that Messianic determination ... is the apparent Arab realization that after four futile wars, the direct [i.e., military] approach now appears to be one of such high risk that they are beginning to use the strategy of the indirect approach.[7]
What Keegan calls the “indirect approach” is what I term a “peace-and-war strategy.” Couched in the name of “peace,” this strategy uses American diplomatic pressure to force Israel back to her indefensible pre-1967 borders. It is a long-term strategy, a strategy of stages, of unremitting diplomatic pressure and harassment designed to exhaust and truncate Israel before administering the ultimate coup de grace. As Sadat put it in an interview with al-Anwar on June 22, 1975: “The effort of our generation is to return to the 1967 borders. Afterward the next generation will carry the responsibility.” [8]
Nevertheless, the fact that Sadat was willing to take the utterly unprecedented (and personally hazardous) step of coming to Jerusalem might very well disarm Israel, so fervently yearning for peace as to take “risks for peace” (which no other government would dare demand of its people).
Words of warning were now more important than ever. Accordingly, in my letter to Laskov, I said that “Sadat will insist not only on Israeli withdrawal to the pre-1967 lines, but also on the establishment of a ‘Palestinian state.’” I went on to say that “Sadat’s visit would electrify the world: an Arab leader in Jerusalem making or talking peace! Incredible hopes would be raised both here and abroad. Sadat would become a hero over night. I can just see swarms of TV camera teams descending on Cairo. How easily he could persuade the world that he wants peace—genuine peace. Look at his people: they live in abject poverty caused by war and foreign debts. And look how Sadat has stood up to the Russians [when he allegedly expelled 15,000 Soviet ‘technicians’ in July 1972]! How he would win the sympathy and admiration of the world—and all this before he set one foot onto Israel.”
(Note: Regarding the Russian technicians: To this day it is unknown to most commentators that on the first anniversary of the Kippur War, Sadat boasted in Cairo’s weekly Rose al-Yosef that his “expulsion” of those technicians was “a strategic cover ... a splendid strategic distraction for our going to war.”)[9]
Returning, however, to my letter to Laskov, I went on to elaborate on the probable consequences of Sadat’s forthcoming visit to Jerusalem for “peace” talks with Begin: “What a scenario for TV melodrama! But after waiting with bated breath the world learns that the talks are over, with nothing accomplished. Nothing? Sadat returns to Cairo empty-handed. But now he tells the world something like this: ‘You see, I am a man of peace. I went to Jerusalem seeking peace, peace for my people. No Arab leader has ever done this. I staked my position, everything, on this mission of peace. And what did I receive from Mr. Begin? Nothing! Nothing but Israeli intransigence.’”
What could Mr. Begin say in reply? How could he counter this incredible feat of psychological warfare? Could he say, “Well, we offered to return the Sinai on such and such conditions.” It would fall on deaf ears. Sadat would have pulled a Chamberlain in reverse! If Sadat plays his cards right, he can score a tremendous political victory. But this means that his coming to Jerusalem would be most critical for Israel. The pressure would be on Begin to make concessions, dangerous concessions.
During the week before Sadat’s arrival I also contacted Professor Moshe Sharon who was then Prime Minister Begin’s adviser on Arab affairs. I warned him that Sadat’s visit could have dangerous consequences. He acknowledged the risk, but said it was worth taking.[10] The die was cast.
November 19 was a Saturday. Sadat arrived in Jerusalem in the evening. The next day, Sunday, he delivered a 50-minute speech from the Knesset. I listened attentively as he boldly addressed the entire world on television. For me it was an unforgettable experience. Having studied Aristotle’s Rhetoric, as well as the principles of propaganda contained in Hitler’s Mein Kampf, I could the more readily appreciate the homework that went into the crafting of that speech. Evident to me was Sadat’s understanding of the mentality of people in the democratic world, especially in the United States and Israel (his primary and secondary audiences); his anticipation of distrust; his appeal to sentiment; his conjuring the fear of war and of economic catastrophe; above all, his posing as the lonely hero, fearless, principled, larger than life—exactly the fare for an age steeped in mediocrity and addicted to television.
I had never heard such polished cunning and disarming rhetoric on the part of a living politician. His mentioning the name of God ten times in the first ten sentences of his speech; his intoning the word “peace” 95 times in that 50 minute performance; his subtle allusion to the Arab oil embargo during the Kippur War; his reference to wailing “widows” and “orphans”; his reducing the Arab-Israel conflict to a matter of suspicion; his accusing Israel of having threatened the Arabs with “extermination and annihilation” if they sought to “liberate” their “holy” land—what a remarkable (and Orwellian) tour de force!
I was more than impressed; I was disturbed. Here was a master politician, in comparison with which Begin was an amateur. Indeed, Begin’s subsequent (and extemporary) speech before the same audience that day was rambling and vacuous. Although Begin was an otherwise intelligent person, he had obviously underestimated his opponent. To be sure, it would have been inappropriate for Begin to rebut his guest. But to have left the people of Israel without clarity and conviction regarding the Land of Israel for which they had fought and bled in five wars—in which Egypt was the principal aggressor—is hardly the mark of a farsighted statesman.
Overnight most of the public forgot Sadat’s hostile past and brutal maledictions against Israel. Throwing caution to the winds, most believed in Sadat’s sincerity—a word he cleverly exploited in his speech. And so most people responded to the avuncular, pipe-smoking Egyptian dictator with spontaneous emotion.
Meanwhile the government seemed oblivious of the fact that Sadat, by coming to Jerusalem and shifting from Soviet to American patronage, could now neutralize Washington’s preferential treatment of democratic Israel. Ideological neutrality or “even-handedness” would henceforth govern US policy toward Jerusalem and Cairo. Such a policy would be motivated primarily by American material interests in the Middle East. November 20 boded ill for Israel’s future.
The next day the Hebrew-language daily Yediot Aharanot displayed a page-size picture of the previous evening’s banquet honoring Sadat. Sadat was photographed wearing a tie bearing the design of inverse and interwoven swastikas!
As I learned from his autobiography—fortunately it was published in 1977 before his visit to Jerusalem—Sadat was an admirer of Hitler.[11] He had taught himself German while imprisoned by the British for pro-Nazi activities during World War II. The symmetry between Mein Kampf’s principles of propaganda and Sadat’s Knesset speech was unmistakable: the use of simple slogans, of repetition, of appeals to feminine emotion, especially the fear of war. I outlined that symmetry in an article printed in the New York Jewish Press. The published article reached me in Jerusalem a few hours before some colleagues and I were scheduled to meet with the Prime Minister. This was two days before Begin’s departure for his summit meeting with President Carter and Sadat at Camp David. Before discussing my exchange with Begin, a word about an article of mine that appeared in The Jerusalem Post the previous week, an article entitled “In the Pressure Cooker” apropos of Camp David.
Inasmuch as Begin had suffered a serious heart attack and lacked the moral or ideological support of Foreign Minister Dayan and Defense Minister Ezer Weizman, neither of whom were ardent Zionists, one could hardly feel confident in Begin’s ability to resist American pressure. That he was already committed to surrendering the Sinai was obvious. More doubtful, and with greater room for negotiation, was the status of Judea and Samaria (as well as Gaza). Did Mr. Begin have the will to withstand, as a healthy person might, American pressure to reduce Israel to her 1949 borders, that is, to her meager 9 to 15 mile wide coastal plain on which resides 80 percent of the country’s population—easy targets for ketyusha-armed terrorists roaming the Judean and Samarian hills? My article suggested that the Prime Minister address the nation on TV and set forth a reassuring declaratory policy on this vital matter.
Although I could not make the ulterior motive of this declaratory policy explicit, I wanted Begin to take a public and principled stand on Judea and Samaria so as to place constraints not only on himself, but perhaps also on Carter and Sadat. It was of crucial importance to deter Carter and Sadat from making demands that would preclude Israeli sovereignty over Judea and Samaria. Since the U.S. was officially opposed to a “Palestinian” state, it seemed to me Begin was in a good position to insist that the terms of any agreement should exclude that possibility.
A declaratory policy to this effect, issued in advance of Camp David, would forewarn Carter and Sadat that Begin could not yield to demands that would prejudice Israel’s retention of Judea and Samaria without discrediting himself and jeopardizing his leadership. Such demands, they would then have reason to believe, would lead to a diplomatic stalemate which Sadat, less than Carter, could ill afford.
Turning now to my meeting with the Prime Minister in his office two days before his departure for Camp David: he looked cadaverous. I informed him that I was in the process of writing a book exposing Sadat’s peace-and-war strategy. I handed him a 5-page synopsis of the book along with my article showing the striking similarity between the rhetoric of Sadat’s Knesset speech and the principles of propaganda outlined in Mein Kampf.[12] I then asked him whether he had read Sadat’s autobiography. When he said “no,” I pointed out that Sadat exposes himself in his own book as a “cunning liar.”[13] To this Begin said: “I wasn’t born yesterday.” But he then he added, gesticulating with his hand behind him: “Sadat will stab me in the back!” I was so startled by this extraordinary frankness to private citizens—this unexpected confirmation of what I already knew of Sadat—that I lacked the presence of mind to make an appropriate response.
By an appropriate response I mean something like this: “But Mr. Prime Minister, if you are sure that Sadat will stab you in the back—by which I suppose you mean betray Israel—why are you going to Camp David? Why not feign illness, and then, after a few days, have a Cabinet minister leak irrefutable information that would either deter Sadat from betraying you, or, impel him or Carter to scuttle Camp David? Surely the diplomatic fallout, however serious, would be the lesser of two evils.”
Hindsight aside, it was apparent, after his shockingly candid admission about Sadat, that Begin was going to Camp David with great reluctance, knowing he would be dealing with a treacherous opponent. Begin also knew that the Egyptian dictator had the support of an American President whose attitude toward Israel was openly hostile, as witness his State Department’s approval of a PLO “embassy” in Washington. And if this were not enough, Mr. Carter’s national security adviser, Professor Brzezinski, was a reputed anti-Semite. Even if the latter accusation be dismissed, no less worrisome was the following. Brzezinski, mistakenly regarded as a “hawk,” advocated a non-ideological foreign policy even toward the Soviet Union. “Accommodation” with Communist Russia was both the direction of his books and the policy of the Carter Administration. I mention this because “accommodation”—it is now called “conflict resolution”—was and is America’s solution for the Arab-Israel conflict.
This (academic) panacea is based on the dogma that all ideological conflicts are irrational, that to risk death and destruction in the name of doctrines that have no absolute or universal validity is absurd. Exactly Brzezinski’s position. How ironic: that Carter, a born-again Christian, should have a relativist as his national security adviser![14] No one could possibly envy Mr. Begin, knowing the character of those with whom he would have to negotiate at Camp David. I left the Prime Minister’s office with grave misgivings.
Unsurprisingly, Begin did not issue a declaratory policy before embarking to Camp David. Judging from his gaunt appearance and ominous statement about Sadat, he went without stamina and confidence. As noted above, he went without support from his two most important cabinet colleagues, Dayan and Weizman.
Like most Israeli politicians, Dayan and Weizman were “pragmatists” whose vision was exceedingly parochial and short-ranged. They harbored a simplistic dichotomy between security and Zionist ideology. At stake at Camp David was Israel’s control over Judea, Samaria, and Gaza. This was an ideological as well as a security issue; the two are distinct but inseparable. Preoccupation with security, narrowly conceived, has been the bane of Israeli foreign policy. Israel’s political and intellectual leaders tend to forget that a nation’s security—indeed, its power—ultimately depends on its morale, hence on its ideological consciousness and confidence. Ignore a people’s ideas and ideals, and you will erode their confidence in the justice of their cause. You will diminish their willingness to undergo great sacrifices on behalf of their heritage. You will thereby endanger their future security, the more so when their nation is surrounded by militant, expansionist, and ideologically motivated adversaries. Begin, weak in body and in spirit, was alone at Camp David.
So my fears were well-founded. Sadat was rewarded for coming to Jerusalem and switching his allegiance from Moscow to Washington. In addition to his becoming the recipient of American arms, he recovered the entire Sinai with its highly sophisticated Israeli-built air bases and Jewish-developed Alma oil fields—in all a $17 billion infrastructure. Begin also agreed to abandon the strategic Jewish settlements in the Rafiah salient, the coastal invasion route to Tel Aviv. Even the Labor Party was shocked by this wholesale surrender to Sadat’s demands. The Sinai, which bears a Hebrew name, was to become Judenrein.
Moreover, the Arabs in Judea, Samaria, and Gaza, were to be granted “autonomy” or self-rule. The question of sovereignty over these areas was to be decided five years after the establishment of an Arab governing council. This provision was disingenuous. The functions assigned to Arab control were so various and important that Israel, after five years, would look ridiculous claiming sovereignty over Judea and Samaria. But what most clearly revealed the extent of Begin’s capitulation is this: the Camp David Accord designated Judea and Samaria as the “West Bank” and its Arab inhabitants the as “Palestinian people.” No government of Israel had ever signed an international accord using such language. By so doing Begin virtually precluded Israeli sovereignty over the historic heartland of the Jewish people—the only people that had formed a distinct national culture in this land during the last 3,500 years.
Camp David laid the foundation for a “Palestinian” state. If this was not obvious to the general public in September 1978, it was embarrassingly so on September 13, 1993. For on that day Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin, in an extravagant ceremony on the White House lawn, shook hands with Yasir Arafat after signing the Israel-PLO Declaration of Principles, an agreement sanctified, as it were, by American presidents and congressmen, champions of democracy and of human dignity. That handshake, orchestrated in America, gave the lie to politicians, political scientists, and other pundits who boasted of the triumph of democracy after the disintegration of the Soviet Union. What did that handshaking ceremony really signify? What is it that escaped the TV cameras and the media of the democratic world during that ceremony?
First, Yitzhak Rabin, the head of a sovereign state, signed an agreement not with the head of another sovereign state, but with Arafat, the head of a non-state organization called the PLO.
Second, as PLO head, Arafat presided over the murder of Jews and even of American diplomats.
Third, not only does the PLO, as a non-state, have no legal standing in international law, and not only was it then classified as a terrorist organization by the U.S. State Department, it was also (and still is) designated as a criminal organization by the laws of Israel! Thus, leaving aside the questionable legality of various Israel-PLO agreements, ponder the inversion of the moral universe that occurred on September 13, 1993. Note the leveling of moral distinctions, the lack of honor—precisely what is to be expected from democratic leaders infected by moral equivalence.
Camp David was over before I could finish Sadat’s Strategy. A Hebrew version was published in December 1978. Passages of the book were read in the Knesset by the eminent Israeli novelist Moshe Shamir, then a Knesset member of Begin’s own Likud Party. To no avail. Although the book was the first systematic and in-depth analysis of the subject, it was ignored by academics or dismissed as a “party tract.” Political scientists qua “scientists” must be morally neutral. Like Nero, they must fiddle while Rome burns. Truth has become irrelevant, even in Jerusalem, from which the Truth is supposed to shine forth and enlighten the world.
And yet, the truth will out!
Fast forward to Lebanon, to the war between Israel and Hezbollah—Iran’s proxy with branches in 20 countries including the United States. This war has revealed, more clearly than ever, the truth about the Islam’s deadly aims not only toward Israel, but also toward America. However, because of Israel’s debacle in Lebanon, countless Israelis are now demanding a national commission to investigate the causes of this debacle. The present writer has shown that the root cause involves not only the flawed character of Israel’s political elites, but also the flawed character of Israel’s political institutions, which entrenches these elites in power. Hence, what is required for Israel’s salvation is not only a change in its leadership, but also in the very structure of its government. Required, in other words, is regime change, which alone can to restore Jerusalem as the City of Truth. □
[1] Y. Harkabi, Arab Attitudes to Israel (Jerusalem: Keter Publishing House), p. 133. Page numbers hereafter cited in the text between parentheses.
[2] Harkabi, Arab Strategies and Israel's Response (New York: Free Press, 1977), p. 39. For bizarre reasons, Harkabi became an advocate of a “Palestinian” state. See his Israel's Fateful Hour (New York: Harper & Row, 1988), p. xii, and my critique thereof in Demophrenia: Israel and the Malaise of Democracy (Lafayette, LA: Prescott Press, 1994), ch. 6.
[3] Ibid., ch. 2.
[4] Harkabi, Arab Strategies and Israel's Response, p. 39, and Arab Attitudes to Israel, p. 473.
[5] Bernard Lewis, “The Roots of Muslim Rage,” The Atlantic Monthly, 266:3 (Sept. 1990), pp. 48-60.
[6] Cited in Michael Brecher, TheForeign Policy System of Israel (London: Oxford University Press, 1972), pp. 354-355; Moshe Dayan: Story of My Life (Jerusalem: Steimatzky, 1976), p. 332.
[7] Jerusalem Post Magazine, Aug. 5, 1977, p. 5.
[8] Harkabi, Arab Strategies and Israel's Response, p. 55.
[9] Paul Eidelberg, Sadat's Strategy (Montreal: Dawn Books, 1979), ch. 2. The Soviet experts had actually completed their work of installing SAM missiles on the Egyptian side of the Suez Canal in preparation for the Yom Kippur War.
[10] Professor Sharon subsequently changed his mind. He not only resigned from the government, but he wrote numerous articles critical of the Camp David Accord.
[11] Anwar Sadat, In Search of Identity (New York: Harper & Row, 1977), p. 13.
[12] I had previously spoken to Moshe Arens, chairman of the Knesset Defense and Foreign Affairs Committee, of my research on Sadat. Arens eventually voted against the Camp David Accord, which is not to suggest that his decision was influenced by my conclusions.
[13] I was later told that Begin read the book on his way to Camp David.
[14] Zbigniew Brzezinski & Samuel Huntington, Political Power: US/USSR (New York: Viking Press, 1965), where the authors reject the ‘black-and-white’ image of Russian and American politics” (p. 7). Their approach to the study of US-Soviet relations is explicitly morally neutral (p. 6). See Paul Eidelberg, “Brzezinski: A Case Study of Political Anemia,” The Intercollegiate Review, Vol. 21, No. 2 (Winter 1985-86), pp. 13-23, which contains a critique of Brzezinski's writings. An early version of this article was written in the Spring of 1978, that is, before Camp David.
