CHAPTER TEN

Towards the June 1967 War

The settlement that ended the Suez–Sinai War of 1956 provided the pretext for the June 1967 War. Israel agreed to withdraw its forces from the conquered territories largely because of an understanding with Washington that the United Nations Emergency Force would ensure freedom of passage through the Straits of Tiran. Egyptian forces did not re-enter the Gaza Strip, and Israel was free from fedayeen attacks from that area between March 1957 and May 1967. Israel, furthermore, secured the understanding of the Eisenhower administration. The sea route to Eilat was also a matter on which Israel could find sympathy from traditional maritime countries, including Britain. Trading nations had vested interests in issues like freedom of the seas, and these could override other considerations. Having achieved comparative security, Israel was able to concentrate on furthering its international status and internal development, as well as its military preparations.¹

Nasser and the ‘Arab Circle’

Nasser’s gamble on the Suez War also paid off. Nikita Khrushchev warned Nasser, before the Anglo-French invasion, that Russia would not get involved in a Third World War for the Suez Canal. But Nasser decided to stay his ground: world opinion would evict the ‘aggressors’. For a while his prestige was enhanced in Arab countries and throughout the Third World. Nasser seized this opportunity to try to implement the Arab circle of his Philosophy of Revolution. He did this when he was still courting Washington, and hoping for American finance for the Aswan dam, while striving to give the impression that he was not Khrushchev’s puppet. But Washington was not sympathetic: it had agreed with the overall British objective behind the Suez operations – the unseating of Nasser – and, if anything, seemed aggrieved that Britain had not persisted in securing it. Jordan was first on Nasser’s agenda: he tried to secure Egyptian influence through the Prime Minister, Suleiman Nabulsi, but Hussein thwarted this in April 1957 with American help. The King did not want to be dominated by Cairo, and he rid himself of both Nabulsi and his pro-Egyptian Chief of Staff. Cairo radio vented Nasser’s spleen against Hussein. The domestic turmoil in Syria gave Nasser his next opportunity. By the end of 1957 Russia was aiding that country. The Left there liked ideas of Pan-Arabism. The Right wanted union with Iraq and the West. The Centre, supported by Saudi Arabia, hoped for Syrian neutrality. The Ba’ath were hesitant about pressing for union with Egypt as a solution, but early in 1958 a group of young officers asked Nasser for just this. Nasser consented. The union, largely on Egypt’s terms, called the United Arab Republic, was proclaimed on 1 February 1958. In the terms of the Philosophy of Revolution Nasser was becoming the Arab ‘hero’. Hussein and Feisal responded by joining together the Hashemite countries. In the Lebanon Chamoun became convinced that Nasser wanted to destroy the Christian ascendancy in that country. As Cairo and Damascus radios incited the Muslim community to revolt, Chamoun invited in the American marines. On 14 July an Iraqi brigade under Abdel Karim Kassem murdered Feisal and Nuri. Hussein asked for British assistance, which was despatched immediately, the United States securing the overflying rights from Israel. Nasser, though he had no advance knowledge of the coup in Iraq, saw his Arab revolution threatened and went in secret to Moscow. Khrushchev obliged with threatening noises. Britain withdrew its planes from Iraq; Nasser helped to choose the new President of the Lebanon; Cairo’s dominance over the Arab world appeared, on the surface, to have increased.²

Nasser alienated the Ba’ath in Syria, plotted an abortive coup in Mosul against Kassem in Iraq early in 1959, and on 28 September 1961 army units marched into Damascus and proclaimed Syrian independence. Worried that increasing Russian influence in the Arab states would undermine his own revolution, Nasser tried to improve relations with the West. President John F. Kennedy seemed less hostile to the Third World and neutralism; he appointed an Arabist ambassador in Cairo. Britain re-established full diplomatic relations in March 1961 and sent Harold Beeley. Nasser, fearing that Russia wanted a ‘Red’ Fertile Crescent made up of Iraq, Syria, Jordan, the Lebanon and Kuwait, arrested Egyptian communists. But he still managed to secure Russian finance for the Aswan dam and Egypt’s arsenal was stocked with Russian weapons. When Kassem of Iraq claimed Kuwait in June 1961, Nasser told Beeley he had no objection to British forces going to Kuwait’s assistance. But Nasser did ensure that forces from the Arab League replaced those from Britain almost immediately in the new independent state. By this time the Arab circle of Nasser’s Philosophy of Revolution was not progressing well. It was after all imperial British troops rather than Egyptian forces that had contained Kassem. Even in North Africa Nasser had alienated Bourguiba by harbouring the Tunisian President’s enemy, Salah Ibn Yusuf. Indeed, the only Arab state with which Egypt had friendly relations was the Sudan. From November 1958 Nasser had successfully negotiated the apportionment of the Nile with the military dictatorship led by General Ibrahim Abboud.³

Thwarted in the Arab world Nasser tried to further the African circle of his Philosophy of Revolution. In July 1960 he supported Patrice Lumumba in the Congo. Cairo radio broadcast propaganda to Black Africa; even Emperor Haile Selassie of Abyssinia objected over this incitement to rebellion aimed at his Muslim subjects. Nasser tried to win the sympathy of Black Africa by breaking off relations with Pretoria on the apartheid issue. He courted the leaders of the former French colonies of Guinea and Mali. It seems that Nasser wanted a united African state of Egypt, the Sudan and the Congo with Cairo as its capital. His ambitions were partly countered by Israeli aid to Kenya, Tanganyika and Ghana, and by tribal rebellions against Arab rule in the southern Sudan, probably stirred up by Israeli agents. And Kwame Nkrumah was suspicious of Nasser’s African adventures as they endangered the Ghanaian leader’s ambitions to be the Black saviour of Africa.⁴

In March 1962 Nasser initiated a coup in Syria, and during the succeeding months an unsuccessful reunion with Egypt was attempted. But all this really led to was public exposure of Egyptian interference in Syrian affairs. Relations between Egypt and Saudi Arabia were already hostile and suspicious when, on 27 September 1962, army officers led by General Abdullah Sallal deposed the Imam al-Badr who had just succeeded to the throne of the Yemen. Cairo recognized Sallal; Riyadh supported the deposed Imam. Cairo and Sanaa had already broken off diplomatic relations when the Yemen supported Iraq over the Kuwait crisis in 1961. The Yemen bordered on Aden and the Aden protectorate. Nasser had openly proclaimed his intention to drive British forces from all Arab territory. The Yemen affair also seemed an opportunity to stop the spread of Saudi hegemony over the Arabian Peninsula. Hussein supported the Imam. In 1964 40,000 Egyptian troops were tied down in the Yemen; by 1970 they numbered 70,000 or nearly half the army. At the start of the Yemeni venture coups in Syria and Iraq returned regimes more friendly to Cairo; these were, however, achieved by the local Ba’ath parties and not Egyptian intelligence. This time Nasser resisted moves for a tripartite union. The Yemen, however, proved to be Nasser’s Vietnam. To the British and American publics it seemed that once again Nasser was trying to pursue his revolution abroad. London did not like this threat to its position in Aden and the Aden protectorate. Washington was worried about Saudi Arabia’s involvement and a possible threat to American oil interests there. When, in October 1963, Ben Bella asked Nasser for help in his dispute with Morocco, Nasser could only spare tanks and not men. Even so, Rabat was alienated from Cairo.⁵

Israeli military prowess during the Suez–Sinai War had convinced Nasser of the need to maintain peace on his borders with Israel. But, during his engagement in the Yemen, this policy was endangered by the new Israeli Prime Minister, Levi Eshkol. In August 1963 Israel started to divert 75 per cent of the waters of the Jordan for its own industrial and agricultural development. Syria sent troops; Israel threatened retaliation. Nasser tried to restrain Damascus, but it was the United Nations that achieved the cease-fire. Nasser, however, was worried about future Syrian action, and by the pro-Israeli stance of the new American President, Lyndon B. Johnson. Confronted by this new situation, the Egyptian President called an Arab summit conference in an effort to achieve unity.⁶

On 13 January 1964 the heads of thirteen Arab states met in Cairo. Nasser proposed that ways of stopping Israel’s diversion of the Jordan River be studied, and that a unified Arab command be set up under General Ali Ali Amer of Egypt to protect Arab frontiers from Israeli attacks. Nasser secured the appointment of Ahmad Shukairi as the Palestinian representative. Shukairi proposed the establishment of a Palestinian national ‘entity’. But Nasser’s position in the Arab world continued to be undermined by the situation in the Yemen. He did not want to appear too closely allied to Russia: Sallal, however, travelled frequently to Moscow and antagonized Washington. London was also annoyed by Nasser’s financing of the Federation for the Liberation of South Yemen (FLOSY), which had its headquarters in Cairo and was dedicated to the expulsion of Britain from the Aden protectorate. In July 1964, however, Britain announced that Aden and the other territories making up the South Arabian Federation would become independent no later than 1968: Britain would retain a military base in Aden. But Nasser’s dependence on Moscow increased. Khrushchev opened the Aswan dam and the Russians promoted industrialization in Egypt, but it became evident to Nasser that Russia hoped to replace Western influence in Egypt with Russian influence. It was against this background that Nasser was confronted with the Palestinian issue again.⁷

For eight years it seemed that Nasser had done nothing concrete to help the Palestinians regain their lost lands. He had concentrated on his Philosophy of Revolution, on making Cairo the capital of the Arab world and, failing that, the centre of Black Africa. This was his personal mission. Initially, it might have seemed to him that Arab unity under Cairo was essential before anything could be done about Israel. He did his best to ensure that the Palestinian refugees in Gaza were comfortable, but he deliberately avoided conflict with Israel and tried to see that other Arab countries did the same. This disappointed Yasser Arafat and his militant Fatah resistance group. At the Cairo summit in January 1964 Nasser had said that the liberation of Palestine was not an immediate issue. But in May 1964 Shukairi called a Palestine conference in Jerusalem, attended by all the Arab foreign ministers, and formed the Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO). Its aim was to unite all expatriate Palestinians, including those on the West Bank. There would be a government in exile with headquarters in Gaza; an army would be recruited from the Palestinian refugees. Nasser offered the PLO Egyptian instructors and equipment. In September 1964, at another summit in Alexandria, Nasser secured endorsement of the PLO as the first step towards the liberation of Arab Palestine. In 1965 he led the Arab world in breaking off diplomatic relations with West Germany; the latter country had been supplying Israel with American weapons from 1960 and had recognized Israel. But he warned the third Arab summit in Casablanca in September 1965 that war against Israel would not be possible: the Arab countries lacked the necessary weapons and training.⁸

After the meeting in Casablanca there was a brief honeymoon with Britain. A cease-fire was achieved in the Yemen, and the new Labour government under Harold Wilson hoped for an end to Nasser’s agitation in the Aden protectorate and improved relations with Egypt. But nationalist activities in Aden led to a suspension of the Constitution there, renewed suspicion of British imperialism from Nasser and eventually a break in diplomatic relations on the Rhodesian issue. In any case Nasser suspected the known Zionist leanings of the Labour Party and its leader. When Britain agreed to supply Riyadh with a sophisticated air defence system, and the Saudi King Feisal and the Shah of Iran announced they were calling an Islamic summit, Nasser saw his position in the Arab world challenged by a combination of Britain and reactionary forces. Cairo radio denounced British imperialism. Nasser sent renewed support to the guerrillas in the Aden protectorate and decided that Egyptian forces should stay in the Yemen to help FLOSY. At the same time Nasser developed a paranoia over Washington’s hesitation to renew grain shipments to Egypt. He began to suspect a conspiracy between a pro-Zionist American President and a pro-Zionist British Prime Minister that did not exist. When in February 1966 Britain announced that it would not need a base in Aden, Nasser was not pacified and stated that his troops would remain in the Yemen until the last British soldier had left Aden.⁹

At this time the new Boumedienne regime in Algeria allied itself with Nasser’s enemies, Tunisia and Morocco. But changes in the leadership in Syria led Nasser, following the prompting of A. Kosygin, the Russian leader, to renew contacts with Damascus. Probably to prevent what he thought was a Western conspiracy to unseat him, Nasser resorted to using the one platform that he thought might achieve an Arab unity: attacking Israel. The Egyptian President started by attacking the pro-Western Arab governments: instead of concentrating their activities on the Israeli invader they had tried to undermine Egypt. Hussein was the first: he was an American protégé who refused to allow Shukairi to recruit PLO forces on Jordanian soil. The Jordanian King feared Israeli reprisals for such activities. Then there were clashes on the Israeli–Syrian border over Israeli fortifications in the 1949 demilitarized zone. With Russian prompting, on 4 November 1966, Damascus and Cairo signed a defence agreement: aggression against either state would be regarded as an attack on the other. On 13 November, in retaliation for an incident in which an exploding mine killed three Israeli soldiers near the Jordanian frontier, an Israeli armoured force attacked the village of Samu, just inside Jordan, destroyed 125 houses and killed 18 Jordanian troops. Palestinians in Jordan rioted against Hussein; Amman criticized Cairo for not sending assistance to repel the Israeli assault. The Jordanian forces and radio taunted Nasser: the United Nations Emergency Force secured Egypt’s borders with Israel; Nasser was just allowing Israel to get military supplies through the Straits of Tiran to be used against Arabs. The unified command with Syria was just an excuse for Egypt not to protect its brothers in Jordan and elsewhere against Israel. The Arab world at the beginning of 1967 was torn by factionalism. This was largely the result of Nasser’s efforts to promote his Philosophy of Revolution, and to make Cairo the centre of the three circles. Israel could only benefit from this division.¹⁰

Nasser and the alienation of Western sympathies

Nasser secured his control over Egypt, but he failed in his attempt to lead a Cairo-dominated Arab world, to make Cairo the centre of an Islamic renaissance and the pivot of Black Africa. But, perhaps, Nasser’s most serious shortcoming was his alienation of Western sympathies. His propaganda war was often directed against British imperialism; he sponsored guerrillas to fight British forces in the Aden protectorate. Nasser’s activities throughout the Arab world and Black Africa probably seemed to an informed British and American public merely to confirm the diagnosis by Eden and Dulles of the Egyptian President’s aims. By the beginning of 1967 the number of Palestinian refugees was well over 1 million, possibly as high as 2 million. The public of Western Europe and the United States hardly knew of their existence, let alone their plight. Ethel Mannin, the novelist and travel writer, planned a script for a film, The Road to Beersheba, about the Arab flight from Palestine, and hoped that it would be made with Jordanian assistance. But it never appeared. Instead Western audiences saw the Hollywood blockbuster, directed by Otto Preminger, Exodus. Based on Leon Uris’s best-selling novel, it starred Paul Newman as the Zionist commander. This was, admittedly, a fictitious account of the President Warfield incident. But the film and the novel created a myth that was so widely believed that it became the reality. A multi Academy Award winner, this emotional epic, with its rousing musical score, ranks as one of the most anti-British films ever made, rivalling even some of the efforts of John Ford. Whether intentional or not, it was also a successful instance of Zionist propaganda in the period between the Suez–Sinai War and the June 1967 War and is seen by many Israelis as having done more for their state in its formative years than any other outside support. It is remarkable that its release in Britain, barely ten years after the Irgun’s hanging of the two British sergeants, did not result in more of a public outcry. Possibly, at a time when a weekly visit to the cinema was still popular, it encouraged in a generation disillusioned with Nasser and Pan-Arabism a sympathy for Israel.¹¹

Lenin considered the cinema a revolutionary force. In the 1950s and 1960s public attitudes in the West might have been influenced by this medium. The Hollywood industry had for decades been run by Gentile Jews and Jews. But until around the time of the creation of the state of Israel the Jew in the American cinema was largely a figure of fun. Shortly after the Second World War a series of films was made which bravely tackled the question of anti-Semitism in the United States: the exclusion of Jews from universities, country clubs and certain residential areas. After 1948 the Zionists in the American cinema industry acquired a new confidence and made a film attacking British policy in the Palestine mandate. This anti-British tradition was sustained in the 1950s, extending even to films about Zionists in North Africa during the Second World War with the British forces learning their trade for the real war against the British in Palestine. At the same time the popular Hollywood cinema projected the Arab as devious, sadistic and treacherous. American films, perhaps unconsciously, also reinforced the image of Jews as being virtually the only victims in Hitler’s concentration camps. Both the State Department and the Foreign Office had been disturbed by this sort of publicity in the United States during 1944 and 1945. In the 1950s and 1960s the Western media seemed only conscious of Hitler’s plans for the extermination of the Jews: gypsies, homosexuals and racial minorities were not a suitable subject for the industry. Many of these American films were moving and of artistic merit. Leading directors tackled the subject with sensitivity: these included George Stevens with The Diary of Anne Frank (1959) and Sidney Lumet’s The Pawnbroker starring Rod Steiger (1964). They were reinforced by offerings from Eastern Europe like The Shop on the High Street, which, unusually for a foreign film in the 1960s, was widely seen in the United States and received major awards. Often this sort of cinema presented the Zionist case: Israel had to exist as a refuge for the survivors of the Holocaust. It was only in the late 1970s that a play, Bent, opened at the Royal Court Theatre in London and presented audiences with the case that under Hitler’s regime the homosexual’s pink star placed him in an inferior position even to the Jews with the yellow star. The play did transfer to the West End, and late in 1979 opened on off-Broadway. In the early 1980s a much-publicized American television film, starring Vanessa Redgrave, about the Jews in the concentration camps did suggest an alternative to the Zionist solution, that urged by Bevin: the Jews should be able to continue to live in Europe. The selection of Miss Redgrave for the part was condemned because she had, in 1977, made a film directed by Roy Battersby, The Palestinian, which carefully distinguished between Zionism and Judaism and presented a Palestinian case. Zionist elements in the Hollywood industry had tried to prevent Miss Redgrave being given an Academy Award because of this. But, on the whole, during the 1950s and 1960s the Hollywood cinema presented a selective view of the victims of Hitler’s extermination policy, ignored the question of the Palestinian refugees and generally projected an unfavourable image of the Arab. Probably the major film of the period, however, was by a British director, David Lean: Lawrence of Arabia. One of the greater masterpieces of the cinema, it won almost as many Academy Awards as Gone With the Wind. The script by Robert Bolt presented Arabs in a rather different way from the usual Hollywood offering. But audiences probably saw little connection with the modern Arab–Israeli question and went to see a visual depiction of one of the few legendary figures of the twentieth century.¹²

It is difficult to explain the shift in British public opinion over the two decades between 1947 and 1967. In 1947 the terrorist activities of Begin’s Irgun, particularly the hanging of the two sergeants, had, in Bevin’s view and that of the majority of the House of Commons, made any continuation of a British presence in Palestine impossible. Only twenty years later the blowing up of the King David Hotel, the flogging of British officers and the booby-trapping of the sergeants’ bodies seemed to be forgotten. Begin’s admission to the Israeli Cabinet did not shake the overwhelming enthusiasm for Israel at the outbreak of the June 1967 War. The opinion polls suggested over 50 per cent support for the Israeli cause, and only around 2 per cent for the Arabs. Sympathy for the underdog could account for some of this: Israel appeared beleaguered by massive Arab forces. One of the central issues also appeared to be that of freedom of the seas and maritime rights, a matter of concern to a trading nation. But Nasser’s promotion of his Philosophy of Revolution was probably a primary factor. The June 1967 War vindicated Eden’s action over Suez. Certainly Nasser’s activities had not promoted any sympathy for the Arab cause in Britain. And Israel appeared as Nasser’s new victim. Another factor was the widespread respect in Britain for Jews in public life. Prominent Jews, and Zionists, held distinguished posts in universities, were television script writers, film directors, actors, conductors, pianists, cellists, authors, periodical editors, publishers, and managers of Britain’s leading business houses, grocery chains and department stores. Their pre-eminence helped to create a climate sympathetic to Israel, as well as providing a ready market for Israeli manufactured goods and produce. British soldiers who had been shot at by Zionist terrorists in the 1940s presumably bought Jaffa oranges and ate McVities Jaffa Cakes in the 1960s.

On the whole British cinema and television depicted problems of anti-Semitism and the Jewish community in Britain in a sympathetic light, though the most outstanding examples came in subsequent decades with John Schlesinger’s Sunday, Bloody Sunday, and one of the biggest box office British films ever in the United States, Chariots of Fire. The British Jew, however, was shown as the product of the Diaspora, owing allegiance to the sovereign and not Israel, perhaps having to fight for acceptance as a loyal British subject and achieving it – as in Chariots of Fire when Jerusalem was played at the Olympic victor’s memorial service in the church in the Strand. Practically the only reminder of Zionist terrorism was a BBC play of the flogging episode and, later, the television series on nannies. British attitudes were partly determined by the coverage of events on the wireless and television. In the 1960s many people seemed to have relied on the wireless for foreign news, and thus the BBC’s coverage was particularly important. The BBC’s man in Tel Aviv was Michael Elkins, an American Jew who had lived in Israel since 1963. His appointment was unusual in that the BBC tended to rely on foreign correspondents who did not have particular connections with the country from which they were reporting. During the June 1967 War, however, the BBC did interview Arab sympathizers like Christopher Mayhew, a Labour Member of Parliament, and Anthony Nutting. It is impossible to estimate whether the British press, on the whole sympathetic to Israel, merely reflected public sentiment or helped to form it. There does not appear to be any substantial evidence of Zionist control of the British press at the time.¹³

As in Britain, the Arabs lost the propaganda war in the United States. American Jews and Zionists held pre-eminent positions. The Zionist lobby, even if not active, was a dominant factor in officials’ calculations: its anticipated reaction could influence foreign policy. The media gave wide coverage to Israel, little to the Arab states and the Palestinian refugee question was almost totally ignored. The existence of Israel, and American sponsorship of that state, gave the Jewish community a new sense of security, if not of belonging. Most American Zionists contented themselves with sending tax-free contributions to Israel: few went to live there. By the 1960s the Jews had been increasingly absorbed into the American hyphenate culture. This was widely reflected in the American cinema of the time by films like Mike Nichols’s The Graduate, and Goodbye Columbus. Public support for Israel during the June 1967 War was almost universal and Johnson’s fears of congressional hesitation proved to be unfounded. Indeed, sympathy for Israel was evident throughout the West during the June 1967 War. There was even some outcry in France over General Charles de Gaulle’s shift towards the Arabs. Arab propaganda, particularly that of Nasser, was unsubtle, often directed against Western imperialism, and undermined the Arab cause. To many the Egyptian President seemed to be implementing his Philosophy of Revolution and courting Russia. Israel appeared as an ally of the West.¹⁴

Israel’s industrialization and military doctrine

The image Israel projected after the Suez–Sinai War helped win Western sympathies at a time when Nasser’s activities were alienating them. First under Ben-Gurion, then Levi Eshkol who was widely regarded as moderate and non-expansionist, the Israeli economy grew. Israel became an industrial nation. Agricultural advances in the barren desert seemed almost miraculous. Jewish culture thrived, and achieved international recognition. By the mid-1960s it was evident that the economy had been overheated and that the boom was over, but most Western countries were also facing similar difficulties and growing unemployment. On the political front factionalism developed and the Mapai split. Divisions were also evident between the founder population and the new immigrants from the Middle East. By 1960 it was clear that Israel offered little attraction to American and European Jews as a place to live; it was, however, largely with their financial support that the new state was able to absorb the Middle Eastern immigrants. The factionalism gave a disproportionate power to the minority of orthodox Jews and enabled them to press for the traditional Rabbinical Law. This was opposed by a younger generation who found it irrelevant in a modern society. But to Western eyes, all this probably seemed to be part of an emerging democratic process. Little attention was paid to Israel’s refusal to accept back Arab refugees, except on what the Arabs regarded as impossible terms, and the increasingly exclusive, if not theocratic, nature of the state.¹⁵

Between 1956 and 1966 Israel increased its military strength substantially and, even more important, developed a sophisticated military doctrine and organization. The doctrine was based on the assumption that a war with the Arabs should be avoided if possible, and that only an army which could win such a war could act as a deterrent. Israel had to be prepared to face attacks on all its borders simultaneously and be ready to battle on its own. Israel, with a population of 2 /₂ million Jews, would have to be prepared to fight 100 million Arabs from a geographically unfavourable position. Because of the overwhelming numerical strength of the opponents, and the necessarily small size of Israel’s standing army, it was necessary to develop a scheme whereby reservists were kept in a state of readiness by regular military training so that practically the whole population could bear arms in war. Israel also had to develop a territorial defence system relying on armed civilian settlements, and the strategic initiative of being able to do the fighting in the opponent’s territory. This could only be achieved by giving priority to military expenditure, and preventing possible international isolation by winning friends in the smaller countries of the developing world who had voting rights in the United Nations. It was evident that Israel would be exposed if it relied on a defensive strategy; Israel had to be ready to take the initiative and make a pre-emptive counter-attack to destroy the opponent’s forces. Any future war would have to be short, and fought on the opponent’s territory. Israeli armies would have to advance so as to be able to defeat enemy forces, establish a defensive strategic position and hold enemy territory until permanent strategic boundaries were established. In the years following the Suez–Sinai War special emphasis was therefore placed on developing the offensive and striking power of the Israeli army. Air superiority was considered essential: the Israeli air force was considerably expanded to fulfil a multipurpose role. Helicopters were also acquired to drop troops behind enemy lines. The tank corps was developed to enable it to cover vast distances without interruption. The infantry became highly mechanized, and the paratroop corps was expanded for commando operations. A fast naval commando unit was also created. At the same time as expanding its conventional forces, Israel developed its nuclear technology with French help. In 1960, in his book Curtain of Sand, Allon argued that the closing of the Straits of Tiran would be regarded by Israel as an ‘act of open warfare’. Any such move constituted a declaration of war which would allow Israel to choose the place, size and time of its action. Israel secured most of the weapons on which this new strategy was based from the West, particularly the United States, but also Britain and France. HAWK missiles arrived from the United States in April 1965. Patton tanks, discarded by West Germany, were supplied through the United States. France provided Mirage jets.¹⁶ At the outbreak of the June 1967 War Israel had almost as many first-line troops as the combined Arab forces.¹⁷

Military and diplomatic preparations for the June 1967 War

At the beginning of 1967 Israel was in a strong military position, and also regarded sympathetically throughout the Western world. Both the American President and the British Prime Minister had pronounced pro-Israeli views. France, however, Israel’s former patron, had been guided first under Maurice Couve de Murville, and then de Gaulle, away from the Franco-Israeli alliance. There were difficulties over nuclear collaboration, and Israel’s diversification of its arms supplies offended the French military establishment. De Gaulle refrained from commenting on the series of crises that preceded the June 1967 War; indeed he warned Eban that Israel should not strike first.¹⁸ The Arab countries had modern weapons from the United States, France and Britain. But, most important, they possessed some of the latest Russian T-54 and T-55 tanks and allied equipment together with sophisticated MiG-19 and MiG-21 aircraft. Much of this weaponry, however, was new, and the Arabs were not sufficiently well trained to handle it. The Arab states lacked an effective co-ordinated defence strategy, and had lost the propaganda war in the West. Russia was an uncertain sponsor, and though it might lend diplomatic aid, military intervention by Moscow was unlikely.¹⁹

During the early months of 1967 there was a series of clashes along the border between Israel and Syria. Eshkol had been attacked by Ben-Gurion and his supporters for endangering Israel’s security: he had been forced to allow the Chief of Staff, General Yitzhak Rabin, latitude in launching reprisals for Fatah attacks. On 7 April an exchange escalated into a tank battle and clashes between the Israeli and Syrian air force. Six Syrian planes were shot down and victorious Israeli jets swept over the suburbs of Damascus. Rabin stated that the Syrian government needed to be overthrown before Israeli security could be guaranteed. Damascus joined Amman in denouncing Nasser for doing nothing against Israel. Newspapers in some Arab countries suggested that Nasser was more interested in an Egyptian empire in the Yemen than in joining the Arab fight against Zionism. On 13 May the Russians informed the Egyptians that Israel had mobilized brigades on the Syrian border. Syria had already informed the Egyptians of such movements, but the Egyptians did not trust the Syrians. There has been extensive speculation as to the Russian motives for spreading this rumour: possibly Moscow hoped to expand its influence in the Middle East and weaken Washington at a time when it was involved in Vietnam. Perhaps Moscow had misinterpreted information about an Israeli Cabinet decision of 7 May that Israel would be prepared to launch a limited retaliation raid on Syria. The Russians are understood to have accused Israel of waging a disinformation campaign. Observing that certain armoured formations were absent from the Independence Day parade in Jerusalem on 15 May, Nasser possibly had the impression that an Israeli attack on Syria was imminent. That day Nasser declared a state of alert in Egypt, and sent Egyptian troops into Sinai. On 16 May the UNEF commander was asked to withdraw a limited number of his forces so that Egypt could occupy certain positions on the border between Sinai and Israel. Nasser did not ask for the withdrawal of UNEF forces from the Gaza Strip or Sharm el Sheikh. Late on 16 May U Thant, the Secretary-General of the United Nations, told the Egyptian ambassador that a partial withdrawal of UNEF forces was not possible. Nasser, unable to face further taunts from his fellow Arabs, asked for the total withdrawal of UNEF forces on 18 May. Nasser sent advance units to the Sinai border to replace UNEF, but not to Sharm el Sheikh. This hesitation met with scorn from Amman radio and some Egyptian officers. Nasser gave in, and on 21 May Egyptian troops occupied Sharm el Sheikh. On 22 May Cairo closed the Gulf of Aqaba to Israeli ships and others sailing to Eilat with strategic cargoes. The next day Eshkol told the Knesset that interference with shipping in the Gulf of Aqaba and the Straits of Tiran constituted a violation of international law, and an act of aggression against Israel. Nasser was suddenly hailed by the Arabs as their saviour.²⁰

U Thant was in a difficult position. Canada demanded that its UNEF contingent leave in twenty-four hours. On 18 May, in reply to an Israeli protest about Egypt, the Secretary-General proposed that UNEF be moved to the Israeli side where it could do its work equally well, but Israel rejected this as an infringement of its sovereignty. In Cairo, Nasser accepted U Thant’s suggestion that a United Nations representative go to Israel, Egypt and Jordan to arrange a settlement. Israel rejected this. Nasser accepted the proposal that the blockade of the Gulf of Aqaba be not tested for the time being, but Israel rejected this as well. Before the closure of the straits Eban had warned de Murville and George Brown, the British Foreign Secretary, that it did not intend to acquiesce.²¹

In the United States Johnson immediately declared Nasser’s closure of the straits to be an illegal act. The American President approached London and Paris about invoking the Tripartite Declaration of 1950. Paris was cautious. The British Cabinet met on 24 May, and was concerned that reactivation could harm Britain’s relations with the Arab states. Instead, it favoured a declaration that Britain, the United States and other maritime nations intended to establish a naval force to keep the Gulf of Aqaba opened to shipping, and assert maritime rights. This would avoid giving the impression of assisting Israel, and so not seriously affect Britain’s relations with Arab states. Johnson pursued this idea with congressmen and other governments. On 30 May Eshkol indicated to the American President that the envisaged naval force should move through the straits within a week or two.

Eban returned to Tel Aviv on 23 May and attended a meeting at the Ministry of Defence: it was reported that the Egyptians were not yet ready for a full offensive; Syria was retreating; there was no movement in Jordan. Rabin had told him that time was needed to reinforce the south: the diplomatic establishment could help with that. Eban advised the gathering that Israel must think like a nation whose soil had already been invaded; but Israel’s predicament was international not regional and it had to look to the United States to neutralize the Russian menace. Johnson had asked to be consulted, and for forty-eight hours’ respite. Most of those present agreed on the need for a political phase before a military reaction. Dayan, however, favoured military action against Egypt after forty-eight hours on a battleground close to the Israeli border. It was agreed to mobilize the reservists. In Paris, on 25 May, de Gaulle warned Eban that Israel should not fire the first shot; the French President wanted four-power consultation. Wilson showed ‘unembarrassed sympathy’; he had just been given the opposition’s support by Edward Heath and Sir Alec Douglas-Home; the Cabinet had agreed that morning that the blockade could not stand. Surprisingly, it was Crossman who had struck a dissenting note. In Washington Eban conferred with State Department and defence officials, and finally saw Johnson on 26 May: the President wanted a little time and argued that Israel should not initiate hostilities. London tried to hold the situation. On 31 May Wilson flew to Washington. Johnson was disturbed by the resistance in the Senate to positive action.²²

Threats against Israel from Arab radio stations reached frenetic proportions. Nasser moved further forces into Sinai, but these had instructions not to provoke Israel. The Egyptian President added to the propaganda war with a speech on 26 May to the Arab Trades Union Congress in which he said that the Arab states were determined to destroy Israel. Moscow tried to restrain Nasser, but the Egyptian emissary deliberately distorted the information. Hussein initiated a mutual defence pact with Egypt on 30 May, and on 3 June three battalions of Egyptian commandos were flown to Amman. Charles Yost, a State Department official, negotiated in Cairo for modifications in the Egyptian blockade. It was arranged that Zacharia Mohieddin, the Vice-President of Egypt, would go to Washington to make arrangements. On 2 June Dean Rusk informed the Israelis of these developments.²³

On 27 May Eban returned to a divided Israeli Cabinet: some wanted immediate action; others favoured more waiting. The next day Johnson conveyed to Eshkol warnings from Russia; Israel must not take preemptive military action. The Cabinet almost unanimously rejected an immediate strike. By 31 May the pressure to include Dayan in the ministry was considerable: he was offered the deputy premiership but would only accept the Ministry of Defence. Begin was also invited to join. On 2 June Dayan argued for an attack without delay. The next day Meir Amit, head of Mossad, the Israeli intelligence organization, just back from Washington, reported that he felt after seeing Robert McNamara, the Secretary of State for Defence, and others that the United States would not take the necessary action to open the straits, but if Israel went to war it would not act adversely and might even help in the United Nations. Dayan then advocated a pre-emptive strike to the ministerial defence committee on 4 June. While Eshkol was speaking a message arrived from Johnson that action to ensure the freedom of shipping through the Straits of Tiran could not be taken by the United States alone. The Prime Minister thought this disappointing: in effect he gave the army latitude to launch an attack when it considered the moment right. Dayan formally proposed this. Two ministers hesitated, but the Cabinet agreed. On the morning of 5 June Israeli planes destroyed the Egyptian air force.²⁴

A similar fate met the other three Arab air forces within twenty-four hours. By 8 June Israel controlled the area from Gaza to the Suez Canal and down to Sharm el Sheikh. By 7 June Jordan had conceded Arab Jerusalem, Nablus, Jericho and the rest of the West Bank. On 7 and 8 June Israeli aircraft and torpedo boats attacked an American intelligence-gathering ship, the USS Liberty, killing thirty-eight. Probably Israel wanted to keep from the Americans their plans to attack Syria. Israel pressed into Syria and secured the Golan Heights on 10 June. Israel lost around 1,000 men; the Arabs around 18,000. Ten years of careful defence preparations, a carefully thought out military and political doctrine turned the Israeli ‘pre-emptive counter-attack’ into a spectacular military victory in the June 1967 War.²⁵

The origins of the June 1967 War can be found in the settlement that ended the Suez–Sinai War. Nasser’s pursuit of his Philosophy of Revolution provided Israel with the opportunity to prepare itself for a war based on a sophisticated military doctrine. This time Israel was prepared to fight on its own. Israel had won the propaganda war, and its shrewd foreign policy obviated the need for reliance on the active support of any foreign power. It wanted, however, at least the assurance that the United States would not intervene. Israel fought the June 1967 War in a favourable international climate. The Arab states were afflicted by internal strife and Nasser’s attempts to enforce his leadership. Nasser was pushed by his own ambition and vanity – he could not endure taunts from his fellow Arabs – towards a war he had tried to avoid as, conscious of Israel’s power, he felt such an engagement could only be undertaken by an Arab world united under himself. Probably Nasser was hoping for a negotiated settlement, and the means of restraining his fellow Arabs. He was taken by surprise when Israel destroyed his air force. The diplomatic negotiations of May and June suggest that, for a while, both sides were playing for time. But Israel decided to fight before the Arabs could prepare themselves fully. It considered the closure of the Straits of Tiran as an act of war anyway. That gave it the right to choose the place and time to retaliate.

References

1Abba Eban, An Autobiography (London 1977), pp. 242–258; Yair Evron, The Middle East (London 1973), pp. 47–51, 67–70; Shlomo Aronson, Conflict and Bargaining in the Middle East. An Israeli Perspective (Baltimore 1978), pp. 11–20.

2Ritchie Ovendale, Britain, the United States, and the Transfer of Power in the Middle East, 1945–62 (London 1996), pp. 178–215; Kamal Salibi, The Modern History of Jordan (London 1993), p. 192; Uriel Dann, King Hussein and the Challenge of Arab Radicalism: Jordan, 1955–1967 (New York 1989), pp. 39–67; Nigel John Ashton, Eisenhower, Macmillan and the Problem of Nasser: Anglo-American Relations and Arab Nationalism, 1955–59 (London 1996); Anthony Nutting, Nasser (London 1972), pp. 168–244; Malcolm H. Kerr, The Arab Cold War. Gamal ‘Abd Al-Nasir and his Rivals 1958–1970, 3rd edn (London 1971), pp. 1–25; Mohamed Heikal, Sphinx and Commissar. The Rise and Fall of Soviet Influence in the Arab World (London 1978), pp. 76–117; Cutting the Lion’s Tail. Suez Through Egyptian Eyes (London 1986), pp. 216–280; Robert Stephens, Nasser. A Political Biography (London 1971), pp. 277–302.

3Nutting, op. cit., pp. 245–85; Theodore C. Sorensen, Kennedy (London 1966), pp. 594–597; Arthur M. Schlesinger, Jr, A Thousand Days. John F. Kennedy in the White House (Boston 1965), pp. 566–567; Oles M. Smolansky, The Soviet Union and the Arab East under Khrushchev (Lewisburg 1974), pp. 157–221; Aryeh Yodfat, Arab Politics in the Soviet Mirror (Jerusalem 1973), pp. 206–213; Ovendale, Britain, the United States, and the Transfer of Power in the Middle East, 1945–62, pp. 216–241.

4Nutting, op. cit., pp. 285–293; Stephens, op. cit., pp. 303–20; W. Scott Thompson, Ghana’s Foreign Policy 1957–1966 (Princeton, N.J. 1969), pp. 50–51.

5Mohamed Heikal, Secret Channels: The Inside Story of Arab-Israeli Peace Negotiations (London 1996), pp. 122–124; Nutting, op. cit., pp. 312–44; Kerr, op. cit., pp. 44–76, 107–14; Yodfat, op. cit., pp. 256–9; Evron, op. cit., pp. 61–2; Stephens, op. cit., pp. 378–410.

6Nutting, op. cit., pp. 344–346; Walter Laqueur, The Road to War 1967 (London 1967), pp. 49–50; Odd Bull, War and Peace in the Middle East. The Experiences and Views of a UN Observer (London 1976), pp. 72–78.

7Yezid Sayigh, Armed Struggle and the Search for State: The Palestinian National Movement 1949–1993 (Oxford 1997), pp. 95–111; Harold M. Cubert, The PFLP’s Changing Role in the Middle East (London 1997), pp. 52–3; Nutting, op. cit., pp. 347–361; Kerr, op. cit., pp. 96–105; Stephens, op. cit., pp. 411–14.

8Nutting, op, cit., pp. 361–8; Stephens, op. cit., pp. 414–15; Kerr, op. cit., pp. 114–17.

9Nutting, op. cit., pp. 369–84; Harold Wilson, The Labour Government 1964–1970 (London 1974), p. 186; Elizabeth Monroe, Britain’s Moment in the Middle East, 2nd edn (London 1981), pp. 213–215.

10Samir A. Mutawi, Jordan in the 1967 War (Cambridge 1987), pp. 77–78. Nutting, op. cit., pp. 385–93; Kerr, op. cit., pp. 117–25; Laqueur, op. cit., pp. 58–9, 81–2; Aronson, op. cit., pp. 61–2; Stephens, op. cit., pp. 461–5.

11Exodus, United States, 1960, directed by Otto Preminger, starring Paul Newman, Eve-Marie Saint, Ralph Richardson, music by Ernest Gold; Edward W. Said, The Politics of Dispossession: The Struggle for Palestinian Self-Determination 1969–1994 (London 1994), p. 130; V. F. Perkins, Film as Film. Understanding and Judging Movies (London 1972), pp. 96–7; Michael Kerbel, Paul Newman (London 1975), pp. 58–60; Jane Mercer, Great Lovers of the Movies (London 1975), pp. 153–9; Ethel Mannin, The Lovely Land. The Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan (London 1965), pp. 83–5; The Road to Beersheba (London 1968).

12The Diary of Anne Frank, United States, 1959, directed by George Stevens; The Pawnbroker, United States, 1964, directed by Sidney Lumet, starring Rod Steiger; The Shop on the High Street, Czechoslovakia, 1965, directed by Jan Kaddr and Elmar Klos; Alistair Whyte, New Cinema in Eastern Europe (London 1971), pp. 92–3; The Palestinian, Great Britain, 1977, directed by Rod Battersby, starring Vanessa Redgrave; Lawrence of Arabia, Great Britain, 1972, directed by David Lean, starring Peter O’Toole, Alec Guinness, Anthony Quinn, Jack Hawkins, Omar Sharif, José Ferrer, Anthony Quayle, Claude Rains, script by Robert Bolt, winner of seven American Oscars; Edward Said, ‘The Arab portrayed’, in Ibrahim Abu-Lughod (Ed.), The Arab–Israeli Confrontation of June 1967: An Arab Perspective (Evanston 1970), pp. 1–9. Films attacking anti-Semitism in the United States include Gentleman’s Agreement, United States, 1947, directed by Elia Kazan; Crossfire, United States, 1947, directed by Edward Dmytryk; From Here to Eternity, United States, 1953, directed by Fred Zinnemann; The Dark at the Top of the Stairs, United States, 1960, directed by Delbert Mann, play by William Inge; Roger Manvell, New Cinema in the USA (London 1968), pp. 10–21. One British film not widely distributed was made with Israeli money about the last days of the Palestine mandate, Hill 24 Doesn’t Answer, Great Britain, 1954, directed by Thorold Dickinson; Sight and Sound, XXV (1955–56), p. 148. This was more a speciality by the American cinema: Sword in the Desert, United States, 1949; Judith, United States/Israel, 1966, directed by Daniel Mann, starring Sophia Loren, Peter Finch; Cast a Giant Shadow, United States, 1966, directed by Melville Shavelson, starring Kirk Douglas, Angie Dickinson, Hyam Topol. Martin Sherman, Bent, opened Royal Court Theatre 1979, starring Ian McKellen. For a discussion of the Nazi attitude towards homosexuals see William D. Rubinstein, Genocide: A History (London 2003), chap. 4.

13Randolph S. and Winston S. Churchill, The Six Day War (London 1967), pp. 219–241; Michael Adams and Christopher Mayhew, Publish It Not … the Middle East Cover-Up (London 1975), pp. 3–105, 121–6; Laqueur, op. cit., pp. 191–5; Sunday, Bloody Sunday, Great Britain, 1971, directed by John Schlesinger, starring Peter Finch, Glenda Jackson, Murray Head; Chariots of Fire, Great Britain, 1981, directed by Hugh Hudson, script by Colin Welland, starring Ben Cross, Ian Charleson, Nigel Havers.

14Michael W. Suleiman, ‘American mass media and the June conflict’, in Abu-Lughod, op. cit., pp. 138–154; Laqueur, op. cit., pp. 184–227; M. Abdel-Kader Hatem, Information and the Arab Cause (London 1974), pp. 204–30; The Graduate, United States, 1967, directed by Mike Nichols, starring Dustin Hoffman; Goodbye Columbus, United States, 1969, directed by Larry Peerce, starring Richard Benjamin and Ali MacGraw.

15Laqueur, op. cit., pp. 26–30; Aronson, op. cit., pp. 39–56; Evron, op. cit., pp. 67–77; Terence Prittie, Eshkol of Israel. The Man and the Nation (London 1969), pp. 206–298.

16Yigal Allon, The Making of Israel’s Army (London 1970), pp. 60–75; Edgar O’Ballance, The Third Arab–Israeli War (London 1972), pp. 37–55.

17Trevor N. Dupuy, Elusive Victory: The Arab-Israeli War 1947–1974 (London 1978), pp. 231, 337.

18Sylvia K. Crosbie, A Tacit Alliance. France and Israel from Suez to the Six Day War (Princeton, NJ 1974), pp. 122–291.

19Dupuy, op. cit., pp. 234–8, 337.

20Richard B. Parker, The Politics of Miscalculation in the Middle East (Bloomington 1993), pp. 3–52; Ahron Bregman and Jihan El-Tahri, The Fifty Years War: Israel and the Arabs (London 1998), pp. 65–6; Heikal, Secret Channels: The Inside Story of Arab-Israeli Peace Negotiations, pp. 125–6; Dupuy, op. cit., pp. 225–9; Nutting, op. cit., pp. 394–401; Stephens, op. cit., pp. 466–76; Allon, op. cit., pp. 76–8; O’Ballance, op. cit., pp. 23–6; Laqueur, op. cit., pp. 71–96; David Ben-Gurion, Israel: A Personal History (London 1971), pp. 753–61; Eban, op. cit., pp. 316–26; Moshe Dayan, Story of My Life (London 1972), pp. 143–8.

21Samir N. Anabtawi, ‘The United Nations and the Middle East conflict of 1967’, in Abu-Lughod, op. cit., pp. 122–137; Nutting, op. cit., pp. 402–4; Bull, op. cit., pp. 106–12.

22Lyndon Baines Johnson, The Vantage Point. Perspectives of the Presidency 1963–1969 (London 1972), pp. 287–96; Dayan, op. cit., pp. 253–5; Eban, op. cit., pp. 362–64; Harold Wilson, The Chariot of Israel, Britain, America and the State of Israel (London 1981), pp. 329–46; George Brown, In My Way (London 1972), pp. 126–32; Harold Wilson, The Labour Government 1964–70 (London 1974), pp. 505–12; William B. Quandt, Decade of Decisions. American Policy towards the Arab-Israeli Conflict, 1967–1976 (Berkeley 1977), pp. 37–71; Marcia Williams, Inside Number 10 (New York 1972), pp. 192–3; Richard Crossman, The Diaries of a Cabinet Minister, Vol. II, 1966–68 (London 1976), pp. 352–9, 364–93, 513, 537.

23Bregman and El-Tahri, op. cit., pp. 81–3; Dupuy, op. cit., pp. 229–30; Nutting, op. cit., 405–17; Stephens, op. cit., pp. 479–92; Laqueur, op. cit., pp. 288–311; King Hussein of Jordan, My ‘War’ with Israel (New York 1969), pp. 60–64.

24Bregman and El-Tahri, op. cit., pp. 84–5; William B. Quandt, ‘Lyndon Johnson and the June 1967 war: what color was the light?’, Middle East Journal, 42 (Spring 1992), pp. 198–228; William B. Quandt, Peace Process: American Diplomacy and the Arab-Israeli Conflict since 1967 (Washington 1993), pp. 25–62; Fawaz A. Gerges, The Superpowers and the Middle East: Regional and International Politics, 1955–1967 (Boulder, 1994), pp. 210–32; Dayan, op. cit., pp. 270–80; Eban, op. cit., pp. 365–408; Stephen Green, Taking Sides. America’s Secret Relations with a Militant Israel 1948/1967 (London 1984), pp. 212–42; Robert Jackson, The Israeli Air Force Story (London 1970), pp. 165–218.

25Dupuy, op. cit., pp. 231–340; Churchill and Churchill, op. cit., pp. 78–191; O’Ballance, op. cit., pp. 62–267. Ahron Bregman in Israel’s Wars: A History Since 1947, 2nd edn (London 2002), pp. 88–89 argues that ‘the Israelis did know after the attack of the Air Force on the ship and before the Navy moved in to deliver the knock-out, that this was an American vessel’. The Israeli claim that the attack was an accident, an argument backed by the Pentagon and the White House, is still hotly disputed by members of the American armed forces. (See Ian Williams, ‘The Liberty sails on’, Middle East International, 26 July 2002.)