The abortive speech would have been unnerving for any leader, much less one under extreme duress, yet an even more daunting task awaited Eshkol at IDF headquarters. There he would have to explain to the general staff why the time had not yet arrived for military action. For nearly two weeks, they had been intensively preparing for war, and were confident that the green light would be given. But Eshkol had come to disappoint them: “It is not politically, diplomatically, and perhaps even morally logical to start a war,” Eshkol opened. “We now have to restrain ourselves and to maintain our forces for a week or two or even longer.” He outlined the convoy plan, emphasizing America’s commitment to breaking the Egyptian blockade, and warned of the vast losses—financial, material, human—that Israel might suffer in war. “I understand you commanders are discontented, but maturity dictates that we stand up to this test.”

The officers waited for Eshkol to finish and then they pounced. “In two weeks the straits will still be closed and we will be in a worse situation,” charged Maj.-Gen. Yeshayahu “Shaike” Gavish, chief of the Southern Command. “More of our men will die.” His counterpart at Central Command, Maj.-Gen. Uzi Narkiss, concurred: “The problem lies not with us but with the younger generation, who will never understand why the IDF did not attack.” Divisional commander Avraham Yoffe asserted that “The IDF was created to defend the state, but the government is not letting the army carry out its mission—a mission that the people want.” Maj.-Gen. Aharon Yariv, chief of intelligence, was no less forceful: “Israel cannot expect anybody else to do its dirty work. We alone can break the stranglehold tightening around us.” The most adamant remarks, however, were delivered by another front-line general, Ariel Sharon, who declared that “The people of Israel are ready to wage a just war, to fight, and to pay the price. The question isn’t free passage, but the existence of the people of Israel.”

Eshkol absorbed these blows for over an hour, and held his ground in defending the line that his government had taken. He explained that the IDF had not been created for waging wars of choice, and that the mere presence of the Egyptian army in Sinai was insufficient grounds for attacking pre-emptively. “Deterrence means having patience,” he insisted, “endurance.”⁴³

Some Israeli historians would later claim that the generals had staged a “putsch” against Eshkol, crossing the sometimes fluid line between the country’s civilian and military echelons.⁴⁴ No evidence whatsoever exists to support this theory, however. On the contrary, the meeting at IDF headquarters illustrated the strength of Eshkol’s leadership, and of Israeli democracy: The officers felt unconstrained in expressing their opposition to the government’s policy, while the head of that government, standing alone, overrode them. Yet upholding the rule of law and defending the government’s decision would not be without cost for Eshkol.

 

“As long as Eshkol is in office we will plummet into the abyss,” Ben-Gurion inscribed in his diary the next morning. That day’s edition of Ha’aretz seemed to concur: “The government in its present composition cannot lead the nation in its time of danger.” Even Eshkol’s allies were deserting him. Citizens for Eshkol, a public action group formed during the 1965 elections, called for the creation of a national unity government that would include Dayan and Ben-Gurion. Behind the scenes, Mapai secretary Golda Meir negotiated feverishly with Rafi’s Shimon Peres, proposing various solutions such as Dayan’s appointment as deputy prime minister or as chief of the Southern Command. Menachem Begin wanted to create a special war cabinet headed by Ben-Gurion, in which Eshkol would serve as a deputy. Dayan rejected these ideas—he would accept nothing less than Defense—but Eshkol proved equally stubborn. “These two horses cannot be hitched to the same wagon,” was his reaction to sharing power with Ben-Gurion. “Let me get this straight,” he asked Haim Moshe Shapira. “You want Dayan and you don’t want war?”⁴⁵

As political pressures mounted within Israel, the Arab threat encircling it escalated. From across North Africa to the Persian Gulf, Arab brigades were converging on the front—a combined force of 900 combat aircraft, over 5,000 tanks, and half a million men. Arab unity reached its peak on May 30, when King Hussein of Jordan signed a mutual defense pact with his former nemesis, Nasser, and placed his troops under Egyptian command. “Our goal is clear—to wipe Israel off the face of the map,” proclaimed Iraqi President Abdel Rahman Muhammad Aref. “We shall, God willing, meet in Tel Aviv and Haifa.”⁴⁶ The offensive ring around Israel was complete. Not just the army but the entire populace now mobilized, giving blood and filling sandbags. Medical supplies were stockpiled, especially antidotes for poison gas, and calls went out for Jewish volunteers from abroad. Plans were drafted for evacuating thousands of Israeli children to Europe.⁴⁷

The growing sense of a second Holocaust about to befall the Jewish people compounded the pressures on Eshkol to act quickly and decisively. Caricatures appearing in the daily Ma’ariv depicted a tank-driving Nasser crushing Eshkol in his bed, and King Hussein jetting over him en route to Cairo. Ezer Weizman stormed into the prime minister’s office, threw his general’s insignia onto the desk, and shouted, “The state is being destroyed, Eshkol. Why waste your time with Moshe Dayan? Give the order and we will win!” before storming out again.⁴⁸

A shrewd politician, Eshkol understood that he could delay no further, and that he had to broaden the government, even at the price of turning over the Defense Ministry to his political adversary, Dayan. Thus, on June 1, Eshkol secured the cabinet’s unanimous backing for the proposal that Dayan become defense minister in a national unity government. Together with Gahal’s 26 seats and Rafi’s 10, the coalition now accounted for 111 out of the 120 seats in the Knesset, reflecting an unprecedented display of national consensus.

To make sure that he would continue setting policy on crucial defense matters, however, Eshkol extracted from Dayan a promise not to approve operations beyond the general war plan sanctioned by the cabinet, and not to bomb Arab cities unless Israeli cities were bombed first. As a further check on Dayan’s powers, Eshkol enlisted Yigael Yadin, the IDF’s second chief of staff, as his special adviser on defense.⁴⁹

Though Eshkol had conceded some control over how the war was to be waged, he retained authority over the more fundamental question of when the war would start. Dayan wanted to attack at once, but the prime minister was still determined to exhaust every diplomatic alternative in order to maximize American sympathy with Israel’s position. He again wrote Johnson, recalling the president’s promise to use “any and all measures” to open the straits, and advising him that Israelis were “approaching a point at which counsels of restraint would lack any moral or logical basis.” The United States, he enjoined, could no longer postpone measures to restore the status quo ante in Sinai, and to end the Tiran blockade.⁵⁰

Mere letter-writing could no longer suffice, though, and Eshkol authorized two clandestine initiatives. In the first, Efraim “Eppy” Evron, who was charge d’affaires at Israel’s Washington embassy and had close contacts in the White House, would discreetly raise Eshkol’s idea of sending an Israeli vessel through the straits. At the same time, Eshkol dispatched to Washington the chief of the Mossad intelligence agency, Meir Amit, to sound out America’s attitude toward pre-emption.

Though Eshkol’s letter produced no major shift in American policy—Johnson replied that he had not pledged to use “any and all measures” to reopen the straits, but only measures within his constitutional powers—the secret initiatives bore fruit. National Security Adviser Walter Rostow expressed muted interest in Evron’s proposal, and agreed to pass it on to the president.⁵¹ Amit was received warmly by CIA director Richard Helms and Defense Secretary Robert McNamara, both of whom listened to Amit’s explanation of why Israel had to strike first and immediately, and raised no objections. “I read you loud and clear,” replied McNamara.⁵²

The impression of growing American support for pre-emption was further reinforced by America’s UN ambassador Arthur Goldberg, a committed Zionist and one of Johnson’s closest Jewish advisers, who quietly informed the Israelis that the president knew they had no choice and would have to defend themselves. The message was reiterated by another Jewish friend of Johnson, Supreme Court Justice Abe Fortas. “Eshkol and Eban did a great service to Israel by giving the U.S. a chance to explore options other than Israeli force,” he told Evron on June 1. “If they had not done so, it would have been difficult to secure the president’s sympathy.”⁵³