The Lemon Tree: An Arab, A Jew, and the Heart of the Middle East (20 page)

Dalia was nineteen years old, but during this "period of waiting" she often felt like crawling under a blanket. She had never felt like this, yet she understood that for others something terrible and familiar was reawakening. Later she would recall it as a "collective fear of annihilation." Her mother's face wore an expression of perpetual worry. As the waiting period stretched out, the family sat in excruciating silence, listening for a siren. In the Ramla shops people would engage in conversation readily, looking to one another for reassurance; other times, on the streets, they would glance at one another quickly, furtively, one nervous face flashing into the mirror of another.

The radio picked up broadcasts of a serene Egyptian voice, saying, "Why don't you go back to where you came from? You don't stand a chance." Dalia would lie on the blue silken cover of her parents' bed, listening to the threats of the Arabs in their accented Hebrew. In the newspapers, Dalia had read about the Arabs promising to push the Jews into the sea. At times she thought she should listen to her Western friends who insisted that the taunting voice from Cairo represented bravado and "Oriental exaggera­tion." She knew that the Israeli army, in whose officers' training corps program she now served, was strong. But in a community where people were still walking around with numbers on their arms, Dalia believed, "one had to take sick fantasies seriously." She was petrified; so were her parents; so were Aunt Stella and Aunt Dora.
Ma-ihey-yiheh?
everyone was desperate to know. What will happen?

On May 23, the day after Nasser closed the Straits of Tiran and taunted the Israeli public, Israel's cabinet sent Foreign Minister Abba Eban on a diplomatic mission to Paris, London, and Washington.

Officials in the Johnson administration were trying to keep Israel from attacking Egypt, while assessing whether Nasser truly wanted war, and, if he did, what the outcome would be. A CIA assessment on May 26—part political review and part psychological analysis—surmised that Nasser's threats against Israel were made partly in response to Israel's threats to Syria, Egypt's ally: "He probably felt he had to identify himself with Arab nationalist interests and that some action on his part would refurbish his image in the Arab world." The CIA memorandum also suggested the Soviets had encouraged Nasser, in part because of the "bad blood" with the U.S. over Vietnam, and that perhaps Nasser believed his forces were now strong enough to withstand an attack from Israel. In addition, the CIA report concluded, "There may have been some element of desperation in Nasser's attitude, arising from . . . perhaps a fatalisitic conclusion that a showdown with Israel must come sooner or later, and might best be provoked before Israel acquired nuclear weapons."

The previous day, Lucius Battle, the U.S. undersecretary of state and recent ambassador to Egypt, had suggested to the president another possible reason for Egypt's actions: that Nasser "had gone slightly insane." For it was clear to U.S. officials that the Egyptian forces in the Sinai were "defensive in character" and were not preparing to invade Israel. Repeated U.S. and British intelligence estimates cited fifty thousand Egyptian troops in the Sinai. Israel's estimates, cited often by latter-day historians, are of one hundred thousand Egyptian troops—estimates Walt Rostow of the NSC called "highly disturbing." The CIA had concluded that these estimates were a political "gambit intended to influence the U.S." to "(a) provide military supplies, (b) make more public commitments to Israel, (c) approve Israeli military initiatives, and (d) put more pressure on Nasser. . . ." The U.S. had determined, in its own military analysis and in meetings with high-level British officials, that Israel would win any conflict against its Arab enemies in little more than a week. The unambiguous U.S. assessment of the balance of power in the region included a CIA conclusion that Israel "can maintain internal security, defend successfully against simultaneous Arab attacks on all fronts, launch limited attacks simultaneously on all fronts, or hold on any three fronts while mounting successfully a major offensive on the fourth." The Israeli capabilities, another CIA assessment declared, were enhanced because "the Arab states are hampered by a lack of cohesiveness and by friction among Arab leaders." Another factor weighed by U.S. intelligence: Egyptian military strength was depleted by the thirty-five thousand troops Nasser had committed to fight alongside the leftist government in Yemen's civil war.

On May 26, in a meeting in Washington with President Johnson, Defense Secretary Robert McNamara, and Rostow, Abba Eban declared that the atmosphere in Israel had become "apocalyptic," and that Israel needed a show of support from the U.S. McNamara assured Eban that three different intelligence groups had in recent days determined that the Egyptian deployments in the Sinai were defensive. The president told Eban that American military experts had unanimously concluded that the Egyptians would not attack, and that if they did, "You will whip the hell out of them." As U.S. undersecretary of state Nicholas Katzenbach would recall, "The intelligence was absolutely flat on the fact that the Israelis . . . could mop up the Arabs in no time at all."

The same day, an urgent telegram arrived in Washington from the U.S. embassy in Amman with a personal message from King Hussein. "USG [United States Government] seriously risking hostility of the entire Arab world and complete loss of influence in the area for the indefinite future by the appearance it has given to Arabs of identifying itself with Israel over the Tiran Straits and related issues," the message declared. "USG identification with Israel in this crisis will force America's traditional Arab friends to oppose it in order to survive Arab wrath. It is in fact already questionable, whatever position those who are America's friends might now take, whether their past association with the USG has not made them too vulnerable to survive. . . . "

Now came urgent word from Israel. Also on May 26, Dean Rusk, the secretary of state, relayed a message to the president: Israeli intelligence "indicates that an Egyptian and Syrian attack is imminent. They have therefore requested a U.S. public statement of assurance and support of Israel against such aggression." "Our intelligence," Rusk noted, "does not confirm this Israeli estimate."

Events were spinning out of Washington's control. The next day, May 27, the president sent an urgent telegram to Prime Minister Levi Eshkol via U.S. embassy staff in Tel Aviv. "I have just this afternoon received a most important and private message from the Soviet Union," the president wrote. "The Soviets tell me that they have information that you are preparing to take military action against your Arab neighbors, and provoke a conflict which would be fraught with great consequences. They emphasize their commitment to restraint on all sides and the Soviet view that solutions must be found without a military conflict. They tell us that they know the Arabs do not wish a military conflict." At three o'clock that same morning in Cairo, the Soviet ambassador to Egypt had paid a personal call to Nasser, waking the president to urge him not to go to war.

In Amman, however, there was a growing sense that war was inevitable. On May 28, King Hussein told the Egyptian ambassador to Jordan that he believed Israel was going to launch a surprise attack against Egypt. Two days later, the king flew to Cairo and signed a defense pact with Nasser, stunning onlookers. Only days earlier, the two leaders had been insulting each other, competing for the hearts and minds of the Arab public, as the king secretly pleaded with the U.S. to moderate its position in the region. Now, in joining Nasser, King Hussein had crossed the point of no return.

Hussein had surmised that without an alliance with Nasser, Jordan would be more vulnerable, on the one hand, to an attack from Israel or, on the other, from Palestinians within his own kingdom who would equate any inaction with betraying the Arab cause. Now Hussein was forging a pan-Arab alliance on the eve of battle. He had even agreed to place the forces of his Arab Legion, along with Iraqi, Syrian, and Saudi troops, under the eastern front command of an Egyptian general, Abdul Munim Riad. Riad would operate from a command post in Amman. When the king returned home, he was greeted by throngs of elated Palestinians; the crowds hoisted the king's car and carried it along the street.

In Israel, tension in Prime Minister Eshkol's cabinet had led to a rupture, forcing him to form a unity government with his more hawkish opposition critics. Moshe Dayan, the commander of Battalion Eighty-nine in 1948 Ramla and Lod, was named minister of defense. The new cabinet dispatched Israel's intelligence chief, Mossad director Meir Amit, on another trip to Washington. He met with McNamara, who was increasingly preoccupied with Vietnam. The American defense secretary listened as the Israeli intelligence chief told him that "I, Meir Amit, am going to recommend that our government strike." Amit had come in large part to assess the American reaction to this statement. "There's no way out," he recalled telling McNamara. McNamara asked Amit how long a war would last. "Seven days," replied the Israeli.

American officials had been considering their own show of force: A U.S. and British-led convoy of Western ships to steam through the Straits of Tiran to send a signal to Nasser that all nations, including Israel, should enjoy maritime rights of free passage. The plan, however, met with resistance among some U.S. generals, who believed that if an American ship drew fire, the result would be war—only this time, the U.S. would be directly involved. In a world dominated by two nuclear superpowers, there was no telling where that might lead. With scant international support, the convoy plan faded.

All signs continued to point toward war, except that Nasser privately continued to express aversion to it. On May 31, he told former American treasury secretary Robert Anderson, a longtime acquaintance, that he would not "begin any fight." The two men discussed a possible visit to Cairo by Hubert Humphrey, the U.S. vice president, and Anderson laid the groundwork for a visit to Washington by Egyptian vice president Zakariya Mohieddine. Two days later, on June 2, Nasser told British MP Christopher Mayhew, that Egypt had "no intention of attacking Israel." At the same time, Nasser had made it clear he would not back down from his position on the Straits of Tiran, and on the same day that he pledged to Mayhew not to fire the first shot, Nasser sent an impassioned telegram to President Johnson. At stake, Nasser assured the president, was something more important than the Straits of Tiran or the withdrawal of UN forces. Rather, he said, it was about defending "the rights of the people of Palestine":

An aggressive armed force was able to oust that people from their country and reduce them to refugees on the borders of their homeland. Today the forces of aggression impede the Arab people's established right of return and life in their homeland. . . . I may ask how far any government is able to control the feelings of more than one million Palestinians who, for twenty years, the international community—whose responsibility herein is inescapable—has failed to secure their return to their homeland. The UN General Assembly, merely confirms that right, at every session.

Nasser repeated his position that "our forces have not initiated any aggressive act," but added, "no doubt, we shall resist any aggression launched against us or against any Arab state."

On June 3, a new CIA memorandum suggested war was all but certain. "All reports indicate that the Israelis are still confident of victory," the report stated, but cited "the rapidly-growing belief in Israel that time is running out, and that if Israel is not to suffer an ultimately fatal defeat it must very soon either strike or obtain absolutely iron-clad security assurances from the West. . . . The Israeli strategy calls for gaining control of the air as the first essential step in the campaign." In Sinai, the report noted, the Egyptians had set up only "the rudiments of an air defense system"; nevertheless, "the Arabs are sniffing blood. So fast and so far does Nasser's band-wagon seem to be rolling. . . ."

Still, as Israel sent its troops to the Sinai border, many analysts continued to believe that Nasser's bellicose actions amounted to a bluff for Arab consumption. "They were meant to be seen as a strong warning, not a declaration of war," wrote Nasser's confidant, Mohamed Heikal. Some Israelis also doubted Nasser was planning an attack. "The force initially concentrated in Sinai could not hope of defending the area in the event of war," an Israeli military intelligence analyst would write in a review of the war published by Israel's Ministry of Defense. "I do not believe that Nasser wanted war," Rabin would say later. In his June 2 telegram to Johnson, Nasser welcomed the possibility of a visit to Cairo by Humphrey to discuss the crisis, and, as discussed two days earlier with Robert Anderson, he was preparing to dispatch Vice President Mohieddin to Washington. Mohieddin was to make a "routine" UN visit in New York, then meet secretly with President Johnson and other administration officials on or about June 7. Administration officials discussed whether they should inform Israel of this secret visit. Nasser held high hopes for the visit: While "supremely confident," Anderson reported, the Egyptian president "earnestly desires friendship of U.S."

Yet while Nasser privately expressed his preference for a peaceful solution, to the rest of the world the voices coming out of Cairo seemed certain of war and confident of victory. Nasser himself had declared, at a press conference on May 28, "We are prepared, our sons are prepared, our army is prepared, and the entire Arab nation is prepared." A broadcast from the Voice of Cairo dared Israel to strike: "We challenge you, Eshkol, to try all your weapons. Put them to the test, they will spell Israel's death and annihilation."

To Bashir and his family, words like these meant the enemy would be vanquished and the family would return home. To Dalia and her family, the words meant what they said—annihilation. Whatever their intent, Nasser's choice of words amounted to a monumental gamble. Israeli general Matitiahu Peled would call it "unheard-of foolishness." Despite King Hussein's warnings of a preemptive Israeli strike, Nasser was in for the surprise of his life.