Israel's Foreign Policy
The realities of
Israel's geographic position, paucity of human and military resources, and lack
of friendly neighbors led to the quick emergence of an approach to foreign
policy that emphasized security.
By Howard M. Sachar
The following article
is reprinted with permission from A
History of Israel: From the Rise of Zionism to Our Times published by Alfred A. Knopf.
The preambles of the Rhodes armistice agreements [1949
agreements between Israel and Egypt, Syria, Lebanon, and Jordan that marked the
end of Israel's War of Independence] made impressive and encouraging reading.
Each stated that it was designed to facilitate the transition from truce to permanent
peace. Each endorsed the [United Nations] Security Council injunction against
the use of force and affirmed Israel's and the Arab nations' rights to security
and freedom from attack. For Israeli statesmen, nevertheless, future policy was
to be dictated not by the sonorous verbalization of international documents,
but by an acute awareness of the nation's physical and diplomatic
vulnerability.
To begin with, Israel's geographic position was a
strategist's nightmare. The newborn republic comprised less than 8,000 square
miles. Its 600 miles of land frontier provided virtually no defense in
territorial depth. Thus, three‑quarters of its population was impacted
into the coastal plain between Haifa and Tel Aviv and along the narrow corridor
leading to Jerusalem. Except for scattered outposts in the Negev Desert, no town
or farm settlement lay more than 18 miles from an Arab border. Israel's
"waist" measured scarcely 9 miles from the Transjordanian bulge to
the Mediterranean. At points, the Jerusalem Corridor narrowed to a width of 10
miles, and the Israeli sector of the Holy City was flanked on three sides by
Hashemite artillery. From the Golan Heights, Syrian guns were capable of
wreaking havoc on the Jewish farm communities of eastern Galilee. Finally,
access to Eilat, Israel's southern gateway to Asia and Africa, was vulnerable
to Egyptian maritime blockade. The entire country, in short, was a frontier,
the only non‑island in the world that could be reached by sea alone (or
by air over sea).
The
nation's human resources were equally limited. The surrounding Arab populations
outnumbered Israel's population by forty to one, their standing armies by eight
to one. Even within the framework of the armistice agreements, the Israeli
government was suspicious of future understandings with neighbors that were
traditionally volatile and mercurial. It was significant that during the first
two decades of Israeli independence, the Arab nations underwent some twenty
political revolutions, nearly all of them precipitated by army juntas. None of
the successor military regimes dared adopt less than a hostile policy toward
Israel for fear of losing popular support. It was a unique kind of hostility,
moreover. It was not confined to one particular area of Israel's life or
territory, not directed toward a specific portion of Israel's land, water, or
mine resources. As the Israelis saw it, the Arab purpose was single‑minded
and all‑absorptive. It was flatly committed to the destruction of Israel
as an independent state.
In girding its strength against this danger, too, the Jewish
republic was limited by more than a paucity of territory, weapons, or citizens.
It was deprived equally of friends and patrons. For Israel alone in the Middle
East belonged to no defensive pact or political alliance whatever. Even the
funds and diplomatic manpower it had available to explore and establish ties
abroad were painfully meager. To be sure, Israel's firstforeign minister, Moshe
Sharett (formerly Shertok), a colleague of Ben‑Gurion's since Second
Aliyah days, was a man of uncommon brilliance and charm, and endowed with
almost superhuman linguistic and negotiating skills. His closest associates,
Reuven Shiloach and Walter Eytan, were similarly persons of unique dedication
and imagination. But their personnel were under strength [limited]. As late as
1968, after twenty years of independence, only eight of Israel's missions
abroad possessed staffs of ten or more, while twelve missions were staffed by
one person only, and the rest by three or fewer representatives.
The perception of national vulnerability, then, remained the
obsession of Israel's leadership. Its one advantage for the government was
political. National isolation ensured that at least in foreign policy the
government enjoyed a reasonable freedom of action. In fact, the Knesset
[Israeli parliament] played no direct role in foreign affairs at all, not even
in the ratification of treaties. Parliamentary debates on international policy
were useful mainly in contributions to public education, but these discussions
rarely took place more than once a year. Although the foreign affairs committee
met weekly, hearing testimony from ministers, diplomats, and army leaders, its
sessions were executive, and those attending were pledged to secrecy. The
committee's membership unquestionably was of high quality, and enabled it to
exert a certain intangible influence on foreign policy. Yet initiative and
virtually complete freedom of decision in this area remained the prerogative of
the cabinet.
Howard M. Sachar is a
Professor of History and International Affairs at George Washington University
in Washington DC. © 1976, 1996 by Howard M. Sachar.