single aircraft and would be completely exposed to the Egyptian air force. Could Schwimmer buy and repair fighter planes and smuggle them into Israel?
Schwimmer told Ben-Gurion’s agents that he’d start immediately, even though he knew he would be violating the 1935 Neutrality Act, which prohibited U.S. citizens from exporting weaponry without government authorization. This wasn’t just
Within days, Schwimmer had tracked down a handful of Jewish pilots and mechanics from the United States and the United Kingdom for what he told them would be the first civilian Jewish airline. He was obsessed with secrecy, and did not even want to bring them into the fold about the idea of building fighter planes. Few were even informed that the planes were destined for Israel. When outsiders inquired, the cover story was that they were building a national airline for Panama and would ferry cattle to Europe.
Though the FBI impounded the largest aircraft he bought—three Constellations—Schwimmer and his gang succeeded in smuggling out other aircraft, some by literally flying over the heads of the FBI agents who’d demanded that the planes be grounded. At the last minute, the Haganah cut a separate deal to buy German Messerschmitts from Czechoslovakia, which Schwimmer was also drafted to fly to Israel.
When the 1948 War of Independence came, Schwimmer’s aircraft fought off Egyptian planes that were bombing Tel Aviv. In certain battles, the barely trained Israeli pilots were instrumental in ensuring that the Negev Desert—a relatively large triangular swath of land starting a few miles south of Jerusalem and Tel Aviv, between the Egyptian Sinai and Jordan— became part of Israel.
After Israel prevailed in the War of Independence, Schwimmer returned to the United States, despite being a wanted man. The FBI had figured out the smuggling scheme, and the U.S. Justice Department had built a criminal case against him. His trial, along with those of a number of the pilots he had recruited, was a public sensation. The defendants pleaded not guilty, on the grounds that the law itself was unjust. Schwimmer got off with paying a fine, which was widely seen as exoneration.
Once Schwimmer was cleared, it didn’t take him long to get back into the smuggling game. By 1950, Schwimmer had joined forces with Shimon Peres, then a young Ben-Gurion protege working for the new Israeli Defense Ministry. Peres had tried to buy thirty surplus Mustang aircraft for the Israeli Air Force, but the United States had decided to destroy the planes instead. Their wings were sliced off and their fuselages cut in two.
So Schwimmer’s team bought the cut-up planes at cost from a Texas junk dealer, reconstructed them, and made sure they had all their parts and were operational. Then the team disassembled the planes again, packed them in crates marked “Irrigation Equipment,” and shipped them to Israel.
But because of the urgency with which they had to get the aircraft to Israel, a few of the planes were left assembled, and Schwimmer and Peres flew these to Tel Aviv. And that is how they found themselves in 1951 talking about a future Israeli aviation industry. Peres became captivated by Schwimmer’s ideas for creating an aircraft industry in Israel that would serve a purpose beyond short-term military strategy. It was part of Peres’s fascination with creating industries in Israel.
Schwimmer insisted that in a world flooded with surplus aircraft from the war, there was no reason why Israel could not buy planes cheaply, repair and improve them, and sell them to militaries and airlines in many countries, while building Israel’s own commercial industry. Shortly after they returned to the United States, Peres took Schwimmer to meet Ben-Gurion, who was on his first visit to America as Israel’s prime minister.
“You learning Hebrew now?” was Ben-Gurion’s first question when Schwimmer reached out his hand to greet him; they had met repeatedly during the War of Independence. Schwimmer laughed and changed the subject: “Nice girls here in California, don’t ya think, Mr. Prime Minister?”
Ben-Gurion wanted to know what Schwimmer was working on. Schwimmer told him about the renovations he was carrying out.
“What? With this tiny collection of machines you can renovate planes?”
Schwimmer nodded.
“We need something like this in Israel. Even more. We need a real aviation industry. We need to be independent,” Ben-Gurion said. This was exactly what Schwimmer had discussed with Peres, while flying over the tundra. “So, what do you think?”
Unbeknownst to Schwimmer, Ben-Gurion had recently instructed the Technion to build an aeronautical engineering department. In giving the order, he’d said, “A high standard of living; a rich culture; spiritual, political and economic independence . . . are not possible without aerial control.”
“Sure, I think you’re right,” said Schwimmer, falling into the prime minister’s trap.
“I’m glad you think so. We’ll expect you to come back to Israel to build one for us.”
