The General's Son: Journey of an Israeli in Palestine by Miko Peled Read Free Book Online Page B

believed firmly in the superiority of the civilian government and in the rule of law. He defended his actions in speeches and articles many times. His exact words were, “The army leadership had an obligation to advise the cabinet and to make their point clear. Just as the other arms of government had obligations to advise in matters of state or economics, so were we obliged as military experts to give our expert opinion.” In an article he published in Ma’ariv on June 15, 1973, he mentioned this again: “I can testify that there was not a single senior officer in the army who questioned the government’s undeniable authority to decide or the army’s duty to obey.”
    Still, as one reads the transcript of that meeting it is obvious my father spoke to the prime minister in a harsher tone than would otherwise be acceptable in a civilian democracy.
    I heard the story of this meeting more than once related by Ezer Weizman (who we fondly called Eyzer) himself when he visited us: “You should have seen your father,” he recalled with great enthusiasm. “He knew how to pound on the table and get the job done.” The whole thing visibly pleased Eyzer to no end.
    Well, the generals made no progress and the members of the cabinet chose to wait. They preferred to see the impasses resolved through diplomatic means, and a tug-of-war of unimaginable proportions ensued. This was more than a difference of opinion on how to resolve the crisis. A generational difference factored in as well. The Israeli army generals were in their early to mid-forties, and most of them volunteered in their youth to serve in the Palmach. All but five were Israeli-born, and they were zealous in their belief that Israel must always be decisive and forceful. The members of the cabinet, on the other hand, were mostly in their sixties. Most were from my grandfather’s generation, had immigrated to Israel from Eastern Europe, and had fresh recollections of Jews being persecuted and killed. After all, this was taking place only thirty years after the Holocaust.
    The army decided to announce that: “The delay in attack is due to diplomatic considerations, but the existential threat remains imminent.” Israeli citizens were led to believe that the Arab armies were coming to rape and murder them, as the Nazis had done less than three decades earlier.
    The government was pressured by public demands on the one hand and by the generals on the other to act decisively. Eshkol, who acted as defense secretary in addition to his capacity as prime minister, something that is quite common in Israeli administrations, was pressured to give up his role as defense secretary. This was a personal insult for him as well as a major political setback. He called the highly admired former army chief of staff and Ben-Gurion protégé, General Moshe Dayan, into the cabinet as minister of defense. Eshkol then called the opposition parties into a national unity government, which authorized a preemptive strike against Egypt. Once again, the militant approach gained the upper hand.

     
    I was five years old at the time, but I remember the ensuing flurry and the preparations for the war: the adults unable to conceal their worry, the news broadcasts playing more often than usual, and the newspaper headlines striking even my five year-old eyes as more intense. My father was spending his nights and days at army headquarters. My older brother Yoav, by then a lieutenant and a platoon commanderin the Armored Corps, was in active duty, and we neither saw nor heard from him.
    I was particularly anxious because we were notified that Motza Ellit, where we lived, was in grave danger. Less than a mile from our house is an ancient crusader castle called, plainly, The Kastel . In 1948, in a bloody battle that took place there between the Haganna forces and Palestinian fighters, Palestinian commander and national hero, Abdel Kader el-Husseini was killed and his death was a severe blow to the Arab