Start-up Nation

sent emissaries abroad to collect weapons as far back as the 1930s. In 1936, for example, Yehuda Arazi managed to stuff rifles into a steam boiler headed from Poland to the port of Haifa. In 1948, he posed as an ambassador from Nicaragua to negotiate the purchase of five old French mounted guns.

The Israelis got by on these banana republic schemes until 1955, when the Soviet Union, via Czechoslovakia, ignored the leaky Tripartite Declaration and made a massive $250 million arms sale to Egypt. In response, de Gaulle took the other side. In April 1956, he began to transfer large quantities of modern arms to Israel. The tiny state finally had a reliable and first-rate national arms supplier.

After Egypt nationalized the Suez Canal in 1956, the relationship only deepened. France relied on the Suez for sea transport from the region to Europe. The IDF helped guarantee French access to the Suez, and France in return showered Israel with more arms. The supply only grew as the French and the Israelis colluded on more and more operations. De Gaulle’s spy agency enlisted Israel’s help in undermining anti-French resistance in Algeria, one of France’s colonial strongholds. In 1960, France promised to supply Israel with two hundred AMX-13 tanks and seventy-two Mystere fighter jets over the next ten years.³

But on June 2, 1967, three days before Israel was to launch a preemptive attack against Egypt and Syria, de Gaulle cut Israel off cold. “France will not give its approval to—and still less, support—the first nation to use weapons,” he told his cabinet.⁴

But there was more to de Gaulle’s decision than trying to defuse a Middle East war. New circumstances called for new French alliances. By 1967, France had withdrawn from Algeria. With his long and bitter North African war behind him, de Gaulle’s priority was now rapprochement with the Arab world. It was no longer in France’s interest to side with Israel. “Gaullist France does not have friends, only interests,” the French weekly Le Nouvel Observateur remarked at the time.⁵

De Gaulle’s successor, Georges Pompidou, continued the new policy after his own election in 1969. The two hundred AMX tanks France had originally committed to Israel were to be rerouted to Libya, and France even sent fifty Mirage jet fighters Israel had already paid for to Syria, one of Israel’s fiercest enemies.

The Israelis quickly pursued stopgap measures. Israeli Air Force founder Al Schwimmer personally recruited a sympathetic Swiss engineer to give him the blueprints to the Mirage engine, so Israel could copy the French fighter. Israel also returned to its pre-state smuggling exploits. In one mission in 1969, five Israeli-manned gunboats battled twenty-foot waves on a three-thousand-mile race from France to Israel; these naval vessels, worth millions of dollars, had been promised to Israel before the new embargo. As Time magazine colorfully described it in 1970: “Not since Bismarck has there been such a sea hunt. . . . At various points, [the Israelis] were tracked by French reconnaissance planes, an R.A.F. Canberra from Malta, Soviet tankers, the radar forests of the U.S. Sixth Fleet, television cameramen and even Italian fishermen.”⁶

These shenanigans, however, could not compensate for the hard truth: the Middle East arms race was accelerating just at the moment that Israel had lost its most indispensable arms and aircraft supplier. The 1967 French embargo put Israel in an extremely vulnerable position.

Prior to the 1967 war, the United States had already begun to sell weapons systems to Israel, starting with the transfer of Hawk surface-to-air missiles by the Kennedy administration in 1962. Jerusalem’s first choice, then, was for the United States to take France’s place as Israel’s main arms supplier. But the French betrayal had built a consensus in Israel that it could no longer rely so heavily on foreign arms suppliers. Israel decided that it must move quickly to produce major weapons systems, such as tanks and fighter aircraft, even though no other small country had successfully done so.

This drive for independence produced the Merkava tank, first released in 1978 and now in its fourth generation. It also led to the Nesher—Israel’s version of the Mirage aircraft—and then to the Kfir, first flown in 1973.⁷

The most ambitious project of all, however, was to produce the Lavi fighter jet, using American-made engines. The program was jointly funded by Israel and the United States. The Lavi was designed not only to replace the Kfir but to become one of the top-line fighters in the world.

The Lavi went into full-scale development in 1982; on the last day of 1986, the first plane took its inaugural test flight. But in August 1987, after billions of dollars had been spent to build five planes, mounting pressure in both Israel and the United States led to the program’s cancellation, first by the U.S. Congress and then by a 12–11 vote in the Israeli cabinet.

Many years later, the project and its cancellation still remain controversial: some people believe that it was an impossibly ambitious boondoggle from the beginning, while others claim that it was a great opportunity missed. In a 1991 article in Flight International magazine, published during Operation Desert Storm, an editor wrote about his experience flying the Lavi back in 1989: “Now when the coalition forces fight in the Gulf they miss the aircraft they really need. It’s a real shame that I had to fly the world’s best fighter knowing it would never get into service.”⁸