Shimon Peres is a genius. A genius of impersonation. All his life he has worked on his public persona. The image replaced the man. Almost all the articles written about him since he fell ill are about the imagined person, not the real one. As the Americans like to say: He is so phoney, he is real.
On the surface, there are some similarities between him and me. He is just 39 days older than I. He came to this country a few months after me, when both of us were 10 years old. I was sent to Nahalal, a cooperative village. He was sent to Ben Shemen, an agricultural youth village. It can be said that both of us are optimists, and that we have been active all our lives. That’s where the similarity ends.
I came from Germany, where we were an affluent family. In Palestine we lost all our money very quickly. I grew up in utmost poverty. He came from Poland. His family was affluent in Palestine, too. I retained a slight German accent, he retained a very strong Polish one.
Already in his childhood there was something that attracted the ire of his schoolmates in the Jewish school of his small native town. They often beat him up. His younger brother used to defend him. “Why do they hate me so?” Shimon asked him, he recounted.
We first met when we were 30. He was already the director general of the Ministry of Defense, I was the editor-in-chief of a magazine that upset the country.
He invited me to the ministry in order to ask me not to publish an investigative article (on the sinking of an illegal refugees’ ship in the harbor of Haifa by the Haganah before the founding of Israel). Our meeting was a story of mutual dislike on first sight.
My dislike was already primed before the meeting. In the war of 1948 (“the War of Independence“) I was a member of a commando unit called “Samson’s foxes.” All of us, the combat soldiers of that war, detested members of our age-group who did not enlist. Peres did not enlist, he was sent abroad by David Ben-Gurion to buy arms. An important job, but one that could be fulfilled by a 60-year old.
His first opportunity came after he finished his studies in Ben Shemen and joined a kibbutz of the Labor party (Mapai), which ruled the Jewish community with an iron fist. The party split, almost all youth leaders joined “Faction B,” the opposition group. Peres was almost alone in remaining true to the majority faction. Thus he drew the attention of the party supervisor, Levy Eshkol.
It was a brilliant political exercise. His erstwhile comrades despised him, but he was now in touch with the top party leadership. Eshkol brought him to the attention of Ben-Gurion, and when the 1948 war broke out, the leader sent him to the US to buy arms. Since then Peres acted as Ben Gurion’s right-hand man, admired him and, most important, became his political successor.
Ben-Gurion did not believe in peace. His views were based on the assumption that the Arabs would not ever make peace with the Jewish state, which was founded on what had been their country. There would not be peace for, at least, a long long time. Therefore the new state needed a strong, western power as an ally. Logic dictated that such an ally could come only from the ranks of the imperialist powers, who were afraid of Arab nationalism.
It was a vicious circle: In order to defend itself from the Arabs, Israel needed a colonialist anti-Arab ally. Such an alliance would only increase the Arabs’ hatred toward Israel. And so forth, to this very day.
The first prospective ally was Britain. But this came to nought: The British preferred to embrace Arab nationalism. But at the right moment another ally appeared on the scene: France. The French had an extended empire in Africa. Algeria, officially a department of France, rebelled in 1954. Both sides fought with utmost savagery.
Ben-Gurion, who was already aging, was afraid of the new pan-Arab leader, Gamal Abd Al-Nasser. Young, energetic, good-looking and charismatic, “Nasser,” a rousing orator, was unlike the old Arab notables Ben-Gurion was used to. So when the French stretched out their hand to him, Ben-Gurion eagerly grabbed it.
It was the old vicious circle again: Israel supported French oppression against the Arabs, Arab hatred toward Israel increased, Israel needed the colonial oppressors even more. In vain I warned against this catastrophic process.
This unholy alliance reached its climax in the 1956 Suez war, in which France, Britain and Israel jointly attacked Egypt. This operation aroused unified worldwide condemnation, the US and Soviet Russia made common cause and the three conspirators had to withdraw. Israel had to give back the huge territory it had occupied.
The French recalled Charles de Gaulle to power and he understood that he had to put an end to the senseless war. Peres continued to laud the alliance which, he announced, was not based on mere interests but on profound common values. I published this speech, sentence by sentence, with my rebuttal to each. I forecast that once the Algerian war was over, France would drop Israel like a hot coal and renew its ties with the Arab world. And that, of course, is exactly what happened. (Israel adopted the US instead.)
One of the fruits of the Suez adventure was the atomic reactor in Dimona. Legend has it that it was given to Israel as a gift by France in gratitude for Peres’ services. In reality it was a part of France’s deal with Israel, as well as a boost to French industry. Necessary ingredients were obtained in many places by theft and deceit. Peres was praised in Israel to high heaven. It was praise for a man of war, not peace. The career of Peres resembles the legend of Sisyphus, the hero of ancient Greek myth who was condemned by the gods to roll a heavy rock up to the top of a hill, but every time he approached his goal the rock would slip from his hands and roll down to the bottom.
After the Sinai war, Peres’ fortunes rose to new heights. The architect of relations with France, the man who had obtained the atomic reactor, was appointed deputy minister of defense and was on his way to become an important member of the Cabinet, when everything crashed down. Ben-Gurion insisted on disclosing an odious sabotage affair in Egypt and was deposed by his colleagues. He insisted on founding a new party, called Rafi. Peres, much to his own displeasure, was compelled to join, as, with equal displeasure, did Moshe Dayan.
Ben-Gurion was not active; Dayan did nothing, as usual; and it fell to Peres to campaign. With his usual untiring energy he ploughed the land, but in the elections the party, with all its brilliant stars, won only 10 seats in the 120-member Knesset, and went into impotent opposition. The rock of Peres rolled down to the bottom.
And then came redemption, almost. Abd Al-Nasser sent his army into Sinai, in Israel panic broke out. The Rafi party joined the government. Peres expected to be appointed minister of defense, but at the last moment the charismatic Dayan got the desired job. Israel won a resounding victory in six days and The Man With The Black Eye-patch became a world celebrity. Poor Peres had to make do with a minor ministry. The rock was down again.
But the incredible happened again. Out of nowhere there appeared Yitzhak Rabin, the native boy, the victor of the Six-Day war. He was chosen prime minister, but was compelled to appoint Peres, whom he did not like, as minister of defense. The rock was half way up again. On the eve of the 1982 Lebanon war (during which I met with Yasser Arafat) opposition leaders Peres and Rabin went to see Begin and called on him to invade Lebanon.
The rock went up again, when something very nasty happened. Four Arab boys kidnapped a bus full of people and drove it south. The bus was stormed. The government asserted that all four were killed during the battle, but then I published a photo showing two of them alive after capture. It appeared that they had been executed in cold blood by the Security Service. In the middle of the affair, Peres succeeded Shamir, as agreed in advance. Peres procured a pardon for all the murderers, including the chief of the Shin Bet.
Rabin returned to power, with Peres as foreign minister. One day, Peres asked to see me, an unusual event, since the enmity between us was already a part of folklore.
Peres lectured me on the necessity to make peace with the PLO. Since this had been my main aim in life for many years, I could hardly refrain from laughing. He then told me in confidence about the Oslo negotiations, and asked me to use my influence to convince Rabin. Peres certainly had a part in the agreement, but it was Rabin who made the momentous decision and paid with his life.
In my imagination, I see the assassin waiting at the foot of the stairs with his loaded pistol, letting Peres pass a few inches away and waiting for Rabin, who came down a few minutes later.
The Nobel Prize committee decided to award the Peace Prize to Arafat and Rabin. Peres’ admirers around the world raised hell, until the committee added Peres to the list. Justice demanded awarding the prize also to Mahmoud Abbas, who had signed with Peres. But the statutes allow only for three laureates. So Abbas did not become a Nobel laureate, too.
On the surface, there are some similarities between him and me. He is just 39 days older than I. He came to this country a few months after me, when both of us were 10 years old. I was sent to Nahalal, a cooperative village. He was sent to Ben Shemen, an agricultural youth village. It can be said that both of us are optimists, and that we have been active all our lives. That’s where the similarity ends.
I came from Germany, where we were an affluent family. In Palestine we lost all our money very quickly. I grew up in utmost poverty. He came from Poland. His family was affluent in Palestine, too. I retained a slight German accent, he retained a very strong Polish one.
Already in his childhood there was something that attracted the ire of his schoolmates in the Jewish school of his small native town. They often beat him up. His younger brother used to defend him. “Why do they hate me so?” Shimon asked him, he recounted.
We first met when we were 30. He was already the director general of the Ministry of Defense, I was the editor-in-chief of a magazine that upset the country.
He invited me to the ministry in order to ask me not to publish an investigative article (on the sinking of an illegal refugees’ ship in the harbor of Haifa by the Haganah before the founding of Israel). Our meeting was a story of mutual dislike on first sight.
My dislike was already primed before the meeting. In the war of 1948 (“the War of Independence“) I was a member of a commando unit called “Samson’s foxes.” All of us, the combat soldiers of that war, detested members of our age-group who did not enlist. Peres did not enlist, he was sent abroad by David Ben-Gurion to buy arms. An important job, but one that could be fulfilled by a 60-year old.
His first opportunity came after he finished his studies in Ben Shemen and joined a kibbutz of the Labor party (Mapai), which ruled the Jewish community with an iron fist. The party split, almost all youth leaders joined “Faction B,” the opposition group. Peres was almost alone in remaining true to the majority faction. Thus he drew the attention of the party supervisor, Levy Eshkol.
It was a brilliant political exercise. His erstwhile comrades despised him, but he was now in touch with the top party leadership. Eshkol brought him to the attention of Ben-Gurion, and when the 1948 war broke out, the leader sent him to the US to buy arms. Since then Peres acted as Ben Gurion’s right-hand man, admired him and, most important, became his political successor.
Ben-Gurion did not believe in peace. His views were based on the assumption that the Arabs would not ever make peace with the Jewish state, which was founded on what had been their country. There would not be peace for, at least, a long long time. Therefore the new state needed a strong, western power as an ally. Logic dictated that such an ally could come only from the ranks of the imperialist powers, who were afraid of Arab nationalism.
It was a vicious circle: In order to defend itself from the Arabs, Israel needed a colonialist anti-Arab ally. Such an alliance would only increase the Arabs’ hatred toward Israel. And so forth, to this very day.
The first prospective ally was Britain. But this came to nought: The British preferred to embrace Arab nationalism. But at the right moment another ally appeared on the scene: France. The French had an extended empire in Africa. Algeria, officially a department of France, rebelled in 1954. Both sides fought with utmost savagery.
Ben-Gurion, who was already aging, was afraid of the new pan-Arab leader, Gamal Abd Al-Nasser. Young, energetic, good-looking and charismatic, “Nasser,” a rousing orator, was unlike the old Arab notables Ben-Gurion was used to. So when the French stretched out their hand to him, Ben-Gurion eagerly grabbed it.
It was the old vicious circle again: Israel supported French oppression against the Arabs, Arab hatred toward Israel increased, Israel needed the colonial oppressors even more. In vain I warned against this catastrophic process.
This unholy alliance reached its climax in the 1956 Suez war, in which France, Britain and Israel jointly attacked Egypt. This operation aroused unified worldwide condemnation, the US and Soviet Russia made common cause and the three conspirators had to withdraw. Israel had to give back the huge territory it had occupied.
The French recalled Charles de Gaulle to power and he understood that he had to put an end to the senseless war. Peres continued to laud the alliance which, he announced, was not based on mere interests but on profound common values. I published this speech, sentence by sentence, with my rebuttal to each. I forecast that once the Algerian war was over, France would drop Israel like a hot coal and renew its ties with the Arab world. And that, of course, is exactly what happened. (Israel adopted the US instead.)
One of the fruits of the Suez adventure was the atomic reactor in Dimona. Legend has it that it was given to Israel as a gift by France in gratitude for Peres’ services. In reality it was a part of France’s deal with Israel, as well as a boost to French industry. Necessary ingredients were obtained in many places by theft and deceit. Peres was praised in Israel to high heaven. It was praise for a man of war, not peace. The career of Peres resembles the legend of Sisyphus, the hero of ancient Greek myth who was condemned by the gods to roll a heavy rock up to the top of a hill, but every time he approached his goal the rock would slip from his hands and roll down to the bottom.
After the Sinai war, Peres’ fortunes rose to new heights. The architect of relations with France, the man who had obtained the atomic reactor, was appointed deputy minister of defense and was on his way to become an important member of the Cabinet, when everything crashed down. Ben-Gurion insisted on disclosing an odious sabotage affair in Egypt and was deposed by his colleagues. He insisted on founding a new party, called Rafi. Peres, much to his own displeasure, was compelled to join, as, with equal displeasure, did Moshe Dayan.
Ben-Gurion was not active; Dayan did nothing, as usual; and it fell to Peres to campaign. With his usual untiring energy he ploughed the land, but in the elections the party, with all its brilliant stars, won only 10 seats in the 120-member Knesset, and went into impotent opposition. The rock of Peres rolled down to the bottom.
And then came redemption, almost. Abd Al-Nasser sent his army into Sinai, in Israel panic broke out. The Rafi party joined the government. Peres expected to be appointed minister of defense, but at the last moment the charismatic Dayan got the desired job. Israel won a resounding victory in six days and The Man With The Black Eye-patch became a world celebrity. Poor Peres had to make do with a minor ministry. The rock was down again.
But the incredible happened again. Out of nowhere there appeared Yitzhak Rabin, the native boy, the victor of the Six-Day war. He was chosen prime minister, but was compelled to appoint Peres, whom he did not like, as minister of defense. The rock was half way up again. On the eve of the 1982 Lebanon war (during which I met with Yasser Arafat) opposition leaders Peres and Rabin went to see Begin and called on him to invade Lebanon.
The rock went up again, when something very nasty happened. Four Arab boys kidnapped a bus full of people and drove it south. The bus was stormed. The government asserted that all four were killed during the battle, but then I published a photo showing two of them alive after capture. It appeared that they had been executed in cold blood by the Security Service. In the middle of the affair, Peres succeeded Shamir, as agreed in advance. Peres procured a pardon for all the murderers, including the chief of the Shin Bet.
Rabin returned to power, with Peres as foreign minister. One day, Peres asked to see me, an unusual event, since the enmity between us was already a part of folklore.
Peres lectured me on the necessity to make peace with the PLO. Since this had been my main aim in life for many years, I could hardly refrain from laughing. He then told me in confidence about the Oslo negotiations, and asked me to use my influence to convince Rabin. Peres certainly had a part in the agreement, but it was Rabin who made the momentous decision and paid with his life.
In my imagination, I see the assassin waiting at the foot of the stairs with his loaded pistol, letting Peres pass a few inches away and waiting for Rabin, who came down a few minutes later.
The Nobel Prize committee decided to award the Peace Prize to Arafat and Rabin. Peres’ admirers around the world raised hell, until the committee added Peres to the list. Justice demanded awarding the prize also to Mahmoud Abbas, who had signed with Peres. But the statutes allow only for three laureates. So Abbas did not become a Nobel laureate, too.
