The Jerusalem Inception - By Avraham Azrieli Page 0,27
Egyptian battalion to march through. We operate a phantom division in the middle section—three old tanks driving back and forth, raising dust to fool the Egyptians about our size. But if they actually attack, we’d better prepare white flags and learn Arabic.”
“Imagine that,” said a voice from the corner, “the Israelites going into Egyptian captivity all over again.”
Tanya had not noticed him before. General Moshe Dayan, veteran IDF chief of staff, wore plain khakis and his black eye patch. He joined his fingers, forming a peak. “We’d better pull out the old blueprints for the pyramids.”
“Happy Passover,” someone said, and the room erupted in laughter.
“War is coming,” Dayan said, suddenly serious. “The IDF must attack first, or we’ll all die.”
“Madness!” Prime Minister Eshkol was red in the face. “We are a tiny country, an island of Yids in an ocean of Goyim! The United Nations guaranteed our sovereignty. It’s General Bull’s responsibility!”
“What’s he going to do?” Dayan smirked. “Order his thousand UN observers to observe more closely?”
“We can’t fight alone.” Eshkol’s voice trembled. “We need America. Or France. Alone, we’ll be squashed!”
A wiry, tall man leaped from his seat and went to the map. “My team has prepared plans for a first strike.” Ezer Weitzman, nephew of Israel’s first president, had until recently commanded the air force. He was now CO operations, second only to Rabin.
Weitzman grabbed the pointer from Rabin. “A first-strike by the Arabs would disable our airfields, blast the Dimona nuclear reactor, and destroy our cities.” The pointer moved rapidly between different spots on the map. “The north and south will be cut off from central command.” He tapped the Golan Heights, the Galilee, and the Negev. “No supply lines. No reinforcements. No spare parts, ammunition, or oil refills. Our tanks and infantry will be disabled and wiped out. End of story.” Weitzman threw the stick on the table, and it slid lengthwise until it stopped, the pointer touching Prime Minister Eshkol’s white shirt. “Authorize a preemptive air strike on them, or prepare for a second Holocaust!”
Having kept the defense portfolio to himself, Eshkol was now stuck with the challenge of reining in the military brass. Tanya saw him scribble something in a little notebook. “Here we are,” he said, “an ancient nation with a great military force. But still, the people of Israel are afraid. We’re like Samson the nebishdicker.”
They laughed, and Tanya understood Eshkol’s clever metaphor of the biblical superhero, Samson the nerd, Israel being simultaneously mighty and meek, ferocious and fearful. In contrast to the Israeli-born sabra generals, who were confident and eager to fight, Eshkol belonged to the older, Diaspora-born politicians, whose worldview had been formed in Eastern Europe, where Jewish men cowered under kitchen tables while the Goyim ransacked their homes and raped their wives and daughters.
“We should avoid both complacency and hysteria,” General Rabin said. “If the Egyptians blockade the Straits of Tiran, our oil supplies from Iran will be cut. Our factories will stop. Buses and trains too. And our reservists won’t be able to reach their units.”
“We could,” Eshkol said, “ask the Iranians to ship the oil around Africa to Haifa.”
“The real wild card is Jordan,” said Moshe Dayan. “King Hussein doesn’t want to risk losing East Jerusalem and the West Bank, but he can’t appear disloyal to his Arab brothers.”
“Which is fine,” General Weitzman said. “We’ll capture Temple Mount and reunite Jerusalem!”
“We don’t want the West Bank, though,” Rabin said.
“Why not?” Weitzman asked. “The hills of Judea and Samaria are filled with the biblical sites where Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob lived. Imagine the Cave of the Patriarchs in Hebron, the first piece of land Abraham bought in the Promised Land. Jericho, which Joshua captured upon returning from Egyptian slavery—”
“And imagine,” Rabin said, “ruling over a half-million Arabs.”
“They’ll run away,” Weitzman said, waving his hand, “like they did in ’forty-eight.”
“I don’t think so,” Rabin said. “The IDF is a defense force. The military occupation of a large Arab population will be morally problematic.”
Prime Minister Eshkol pointed at Elie. “Weiss, tell us about the Jewish fundamentalists. Will they be grateful to the government if we capture the holy places?”
“They’ll be grateful to God.” Elie stood up. “I estimate that capturing the biblical sites will cause a rise in religious nationalism centered on old ruins and ancient tombs. Thousands of observant families will pick up and move to Hebron, Jericho, and Bethlehem. Depending on your political leaning, this could be viewed as a wonderful new wave of laudable Zionist pioneering or