Uri Avnery
22.9.07
FOAM
ON THE WATER
TODAY IS Yom Kippur, and almost automatically my thoughts, like those of
everybody else who was around at the time, go back 34 years,
to that Yom Kippur.
I was sitting at home, deep in conversation with a friend, when the
sirens suddenly started to wail.
The sound of sirens is always frightening, but sirens on Yom Kippur are
something from another world. After all, this is a day of total silence, the
day when not a single car moves on the streets of Israel.
Outside, a flurry of unusual activity. Military
vehicles speeding by, people in uniform rushing out with kitbags on their
shoulders, the roar of airplanes overhead.
We gathered round the radio, which is normally silent on Yom Kippur. It
announced that a war had started.
I WAS not called up, but on the following days I saw the war from several
different angles. I was at the time a Member of the Knesset and the
editor-in-Chief of the Haolam Hazeh news magazine, but the Knesset was on
vacation (it all happened in the middle of an election campaign) and the
editorial staff of the magazine was almost incapacitated, since most of its
members had been called up. Rami Halperin, a young photographer who had just
been released from army service and started to work for the magazine, did not
wait to be called up but rushed to join his former unit, in time for the battle
for the "Chinese Farm", where he was killed.
A well-known German TV director came to the country and asked for advice
about filming the war. While we talked, the idea came to him of making a film
about me covering the war.
That way I saw all the fronts. We were searching for Ariel Sharon in the
South and followed him to the Suez Canal. A few kilometers from the canal we
came under heavy Egyptian shelling. We were stuck in a huge traffic jam - a
whole division with its troop carriers, cannon, tanks, ambulances and whatever else
was on the move towards the canal. On the way we entered a mobile field
hospital, where a military doctor, Ephraim Sneh - now a prominent Member of the
Knesset - was operating.
Next we hurried to the Northern Front. We passed large numbers of burned-out
tanks, theirs and ours, and reached a village about a dozen kilometers from
Damascus. Somehow I remember a conversation with a small boy about cats.
In between we inspected a refugee camp near Nablus and the Old City of
Jerusalem. From every coffee shop blared the voice of the Egyptian president,
Anwar al-Sadat, explaining his war aims. The members
of the German team were flabbergasted. They remembered stories from World War
II and found it incredible that the occupied population was allowed to listen
freely to the enemy radio
BUT THE event that is engraved in my memory - and in the memory of most
Israelis who lived through that time - did not happen on the front.
We were sitting in a neighbor's apartment, when an image appeared on the
TV screen: dozens of Israeli soldiers crouching on the ground, hands over bowed
heads, with terrifying Syrian soldiers towering over them.
Never before had we seen Israeli soldiers like this: dirty, unshaven,
obviously frightened, miserable as only prisoners of
war can be.
There was silence in the room. At that moment the myth of the Israeli
superman, of the invincible Israeli soldier, which had dominated our lives for
a generation, died. This myth was the ultimate victim of the Yom Kippur War.
True, the Israeli army proved itself. In three weeks of war it snatched
victory from the jaws of defeat. At the beginning of the war, Defense Minister
Moshe Dayan was muttering about the "destruction of the Third Temple"
(meaning the State of Israel), at the end, the army was threatening both Cairo
and Damascus.
But the legend of the invincible Israeli army was shattered. The picture
of the helpless and humiliated Israeli prisoners refuses to be eradicated from
memory. Right after the war, the Battle of the Generals broke out. Their
quarrels destroyed the prestige of the military leaders, who until then had
been the idols of the public. It has never fully recovered. (But, contrary to
the expectations of many, the stranglehold of the army on Israeli policy was
not diminished.)
This psychological rupture was followed by a political break. The
generation of Golda Meir left the stage, the
generation of Yitzhak Rabin took its place. Only three and a half years later,
the unbelievable happened: Menachem Begin, the eternal opposition leader, assumed
power.
BEGIN'S MAIN achievement, the peace with Egypt, was a direct result of
the Yom Kippur War, which the Arabs call the Ramadan War. The crossing of the
canal and the breaking of the Bar-Lev Line restored Egyptian pride, and that made
peace possible. I was one of the first five Israelis to reach Cairo after
Sadat's visit to Jerusalem, and I vividly remember the hundreds of posters
hanging over the streets: "Sadat - Hero of War, Hero of Peace!"
In Israel, too, many remember Begin as a hero of peace. After all, he was
the first Israeli statesman to make peace with an Arab country - and not just
any Arab country, but the most central and important one. In spite of all that
has happened in the meantime, this peace has held.
Some people are berating Bashar al-Assad and King Abdallah of Saudi
Arabia for not following Sadat's example. Why don't they dare to come to
Jerusalem?
This line of reasoning is based on a misreading of the facts. Sadat did
not just decide to come. It did not happen the way he described it so many times
(in a conversation with me, too): that he was coming back from a visit to
Europe and, while flying over Mount Ararat, was suddenly inspired to do
something unparalleled in history: to visit the enemy's capital while still in
a state of war
The truth is that before the visit, emissaries of Sadat and Begin had
held secret meetings in Morocco. Only after Foreign Minister Moshe Dayan had
promised, on Begin's behalf, to give back all the occupied Egyptian
territories, did Sadat make his decision.
Where is the Israeli leader today who is ready to promise Assad the
return of all the Golan, to promise Mahmoud Abbas a withdrawal to the Green
Line?
HOW DID Begin decide to give Egypt "parts of our fatherland"?
Very simple: for him, they were not "parts of our fatherland".
Begin had before his eyes a clear map of the Land of Israel. He had
inherited it from his master and teacher, Zeev Jabotinsky: the map of the
country at the beginning of the British Mandate, on both banks of the Jordan.
In the course of history, the borders of this country have changed hundreds
of times. There were the borders of the Divine Promise, from the Nile to the
Euphrates. There were the borders of the "Kingdom of David" (which
never existed), reaching to Hamat in northern Syria. There were the borders of
the tiny enclave around Jerusalem at the time of Ezra and Nehemia. There were
the borders of Roman Palaestina, which changed from time to time. There were the
borders of "Jund (military zone) Filastin" of the Muslim conquerors. And many more.
Like all the preceding borders, those of the British Mandate were fixed
by accident. In the South, they were agreed upon before World War I between the
British (who ruled Egypt) and the Turks (who ruled Palestine). In the North,
they were agreed upon - after that war - between the French colonial government
in Syria and the British colonial government in Palestine. In Transjordan, a
long sleeve was stretched to Iraq, in order to allow for the free flow of oil
from Mosul (then also under British control) to Haifa on the Mediterranean.
It was this accidental map that was sanctified by Jabotinsky, who wrote
the famous song: "The Jordan has two banks / this one belongs to us, and the other one too." It was part of the emblem
of the Irgun underground and appeared on the masthead of the newspaper of
Jabotinsky's Revisionist Party, the forerunner of today's Likud. Begin's
conclusion: the Sinai Peninsula does not belong to the Land of Israel and so can
be given up without moral scruples. The purpose was to get Egypt out of the war,
which for Begin had only one aim: possession of the whole of the Land of
Israel, which others call Palestine.
Begin would have had no problem with giving up the Golan, which, according
to this map, also does not belong to the country. But he was captivated by
Ariel Sharon, who seduced him to invade Lebanon in order to annihilate the PLO,
hiding from him his second objective: to knock out Syria. (As is well known,
both objectives failed.)
In the meantime, a new generation has grown up, one that does not know
Jabotinsky and his map. In the consciousness of the Israeli Right, a new map
has taken shape: the East Bank of the Jordan has been taken out,
the Golan has been put in. But in its center there lies, as always, the West
Bank.
BEFORE THE Six-Day War, the British historian of the Crusades, Steven
Runciman, told me that we live in a paradox: "Israel was founded in the
land that once belonged to the Philistines, while the Palestinians, who got
their name from the Philistines, live in the land that belonged to the ancient
Kingdom of Israel." The borders between the State of Israel, the West Bank
and the Gaza Strip were laid down by the war of 1948.
Since then, The State of Israel has been working hard to eliminate this
paradox.
Everything significant that is happening nowadays is a part of the
Israeli effort to take over the West Bank and to turn it into a part of the
State of Israel. All else is but foam on the water.
The pathetic Condoleezza Rice keeps coming and going. Ehud Olmert is
formulating a document without content in order to create the illusion of
progress towards the creation of a Palestinian state next to Israel. Israeli
airplanes bombard a Syrian area in order to eliminate a threat of "weapons
of mass destruction". Israel prepares to bomb or not to bomb nuclear
installations in Iran. President Bush is calling for an "international
meeting" at an unknown date, with unknown participants for an unknown
purpose.
All this is imagined reality. The real reality is unfolding on the ground,
every day, every hour: nightly incursions in West Bank towns, frantic building
in the settlements, enlargement of the "Israelis only" road network, further
additions to the 600 or so existing roadblocks, worsening of the living
conditions in the Palestinian ghettos in the West Bank and turning life in the
Gaza Strip into hell.
This is the real war: the war for "the whole of the Land of
Israel" - a war that has disappeared from public discourse, but that is
being waged energetically, far from the eyes of Israelis living only 20 minutes
drive from there. The Palestinians are fighting with their meager means but
with dogged obduracy.
If a historic compromise between the peoples is not achieved, this war
will go on for generations. A boy born today will join the war on his 18th
birthday, like the boys born 18 years ago, and his father, like those before him,
will bury him.
The Yom Kippur War was only a small episode in this campaign. It was
fought in the North and the South, against the Syrians and the Egyptians. The
Palestinians were not involved. But no one doubted for a moment that it was a
part of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.