Hard Choices for Israel

After the chill in Washington and bloodshed in Lebanon, what now?

For the first time since Egyptian President Anwar Sadat's peace initiative began four months ago, nobody--in Cairo, Jerusalem, Washington or anywhere else--had the slightest idea what was going to happen next.

When Israeli Premier Menachem Begin returned to Jerusalem at week's end following his grim mission to Washington, he found a nation that was visibly more troubled than the one he had left four days earlier. Israelis were despondent and nervous at the failure of the Begin-Carter talks, and uncertain what effect their Premier's intransigence might have had on the longstanding special relationship between their country and the U.S.

At the same time, the Israelis were having second thoughts about the wisdom of their invasion of southern Lebanon. In the beginning, they had cheered their government's decision to strike back against the Palestinian guerrillas and chase them to their northern sanctuaries. But by midweek, as United Nations peace-keeping forces began to arrive, it was clear that the Israeli incursion, while killing more than 2,000 Arab civilians, had not damaged the Palestine Liberation Organization's ability to wage guerrilla war.

Thus, as Begin returned home, Israelis were faced with several hard choices. These included whether and how to try to resume the stalled peace negotiations with Egypt, how to deal with what promised to be a redoubled threat against them from the Palestinian guerrillas, whether to reconsider their stand against yielding any of the occupied West Bank, and how to improve their testy relations with Washington. Probably the touchiest question of all was whether these decisions should continue to be entrusted to the nine-month-old Begin government.

On his return, Israel's Premier was in a defensive mood. At a press conference, he said that what were mere "problems of policy" to other countries were "problems of life, of existence" to Israel. Then he added cryptically, "I will put our house in order." As it happened, many Israelis were calling for new directions, and among them was Begin's own Defense Minister, Ezer Weizman.

On the very day of Begin's return, two Israeli newspapers published interviews with Weizman calling for a "national peace government" to replace the present coalition headed by Begin. Though Weizman went to some effort to deny it, the maneuver appeared to be the opening round in a serious challenge by the popular former fighter pilot to Begin's leadership. A broad coalition government was needed, Weizman told the newspaper Ma 'ariv, because "we are at the height of a confrontation with the U.S. such as Israel has never experienced before." But, lest anybody think he was Washington's candidate for Premier, Weizman emphasized to TIME that he, like Begin, disagrees with the U.S. position on the West Bank. "If anybody thinks we are going to withdraw from the West Bank," declared Weizman, "they are wrong."

By this time, rumors were circulating in Jerusalem that the U.S. was trying to bring about Begin's fall. Begin responded curtly: "The Premier of Israel is elected by the people of Israel, not by the President of the U.S." Washington, mindful of the fact that nothing could reinforce Begin's position more effectively than for the Carter Administration to appear to be trying to sandbag him, quickly denied that it had written Begin off. Even some of Begin's political opponents were cautioning against any expectations of instant changes. Said Labor Party Leader Shimon Peres: "There may be swift and dramatic developments in the coming weeks, but this move by Weizman is too early and too impulsive." Besides, said Peres, " the Labor Party will not join a government headed by Begin."

Rarely has the Israeli national mood undergone such a series of dizzying and unnerving changes as in the past four months--from euphoria at the time of the Sadat visit to Jerusalem to disappointment when he broke off the peace talks in January, from rage over the P.L.O. raid on Israel three weeks ago to a national rejoicing when Israeli forces invaded Lebanon a few days later. With the fighting, the mood turned ugly and disheartened, as if the whole nation were embracing Begin's three-eyes-for-an-eye formula for retaliation. On at least one occasion, Israelis, driving past stone-throwing Arab demonstrators in Gaza, fired into crowds, and there were confirmed reports of a campaign of repression by army units on the West Bank to keep the Palestinian population in line (see box).

Yet there was also a prevailing sense of national doubt. Only 16 Israeli soldiers had been killed and 42 wounded in the fighting in Lebanon, as compared with an estimated 200 Palestinian commandos killed and another 200 wounded. But Israelis gradually realized that more than 2,000 Arab civilians had been killed and 265,000 had been turned into refugees fleeing to the north. In the coastal city of Sid on alone there were 100,000 of them--packed into schools, a mosque, empty buildings and pathetic rows of tents. In Beirut, hundreds of luxury apartments that had stood dark and vacant since the civil war were filled with refugees.

The P.L.O. was obviously still intact; an unprecedented shower of rockets and artillery shells rained down on northern Israel early last week mostly from new guerrilla positions on the north bank of the Litani River.

By the time the Israelis declared their unilateral ceasefire, on the seventh day of the mini-war in Lebanon, many Israeli commanders were ready to admit that the operation had cost too much and achieved too little. Said one ranking officer: "We could have launched a frogman raid at Damur or at Rashidieh and achieved the same goals--but more quickly, cheaply and with less bad publicity."

Early last week, the Security Council voted to establish the United Nations Interim Force in Lebanon (UNIFIL). Less than 72 hours later the first detachment of 50 Iranian troops crossed the border from Israel into Lebanon, followed by a contingent of French soldiers that arrived in Beirut. Soon after the U.N. vote, Secretary-General Kurt Waldheim had accepted the offers of six nations--Norway, Sweden, Nepal and Senegal, in addition to France and Iran--that had volunteered troops. Before long, about 700 of the planned force of 3,000 men had reached southern Lebanon, an area already swarming uneasily with Palestinians, Lebanese leftists and rightists, Syrians, Iraqis and Israelis.

Assuming that the Israelis will soon withdraw and that Palestinian terrorism will not break out again immediately, most experts expected a respite in what some believe has been the beginning of open, if sporadic, war between the Israelis and Palestinians. In Israel, Menachem Begin faces a difficult period as he prepares to defend himself against the foundering of the peace talks, the deterioration of the vital American connection, and the stirrings of opposition to his regime. U.S. officials, almost desperate about their inability to deal with him, are trying hard to conceal their hope that Begin's colleagues will conspire to budge the Premier in a way that Jimmy Carter has been unable to do.

In Cairo, Anwar Sadat at first remained silent, though he scheduled a meeting of his National Security Council at the weekend. In the meantime, the semi-official al Ahram observed: "What is important now is not the emergence of a gloomy climate over the Washington talks but rather the development of a firm and committed American position."

Among the countries most concerned about the current split in the Arab world is Saudi Arabia, which is fearful that another Arab-Israeli war might break out before the Arabs are ready for it. Since the Israeli invasion of Lebanon, many Arab leaders have concluded that the Sadat peace initiative has been wrecked and that another Middle East war has become inevitable. The Saudis are particularly concerned because they believe that with their advanced weaponry, they will be a likely Israeli target in any future war. This is why they have been eager for Sadat to achieve a settlement--and why they are so anxious to receive the F-15 fighters the U.S. has promised them.

In their own calculations, the Israelis must also consider whether to try to salvage the peace initiative while they have a man as unusual as Sadat to deal with. Jerusalem could continue with the obdurate Begin policy: make no real concessions, establish more settlements in the occupied territories and maintain military superiority indefinitely and at any cost. Or the Israelis could make the concessions that Sadat is seeking in order to achieve a declaration of principles with Egypt, sign a first-stage peace agreement and work toward ultimate settlements with the other Arab combatants. This could result in a reduction of Israel's own security position in the West Bank and make the country somewhat more vulnerable than it is at present, but it could also lead Israel to permanent peace and a new relationship with its neighbors, particularly Egypt and Saudi Arabia. Washington, for one, is convinced that this is Israel's only course, that it must make concessions now if it is ever to be able, in Begin's phrase, to put its house in order.

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