Suez 1956, page 29
On the weekend of 23/24 June, a month before the canal nationalisation, an Israeli delegation led by Dayan, Peres and Harkaby arrived in Vermars to settle in at the chateau of the Perrier magnate, Fernand Levin. They were joined by a French group headed by Pierre Boursicot and General Maurice Challe, deputy chief of staff. The Quai d’Orsay and the Israeli ambassador to France were not represented.
The Vermars conference had momentous results, including an agreement worth $80 million for the immediate delivery of eighty-two Mystère Mark IV, 120 AMX tanks, forty Super-Sherman tanks and eighteen 105 mm mobile guns, together with generous allocations of ammunition and spare parts. The aircraft were to be flown by Israeli pilots directly to Israel with a refuelling stop at the Italian naval base of Brindisi. The Italian authorities made do with a tall story that the planes had been returned to France for maintenance and remodelling. American intelligence was less gullible.13 Eisenhower noted, ‘Mystère fighter bombers for Israel show a rabbitlike capacity for multiplication.’14
Ben-Gurion was at the airfield to welcome the first Mystère arrivals. Also there was Pierre Eugène Gilbert, France’s ambassador to Israel, whose efforts to advance the military kinship between the two countries earned him the nickname Monsieur Mystère.
The leap in confidence enjoyed by the Israeli command as they faced the Egyptians on equal terms raised the tantalising prospect of further cooperation with their new best friend. The exchange of intelligence, endorsed at the highest level, was soon to lead to a cooperative venture that extended to joint military operations against Algerian rebel bases along the eastern shores of the Mediterranean.
More was in prospect. The Suez crisis set off another round of talks. With Dulles clearly set against confrontation with Nasser and with Eden ambivalent on whether or not to move without US acquiescence, an idea took hold in the French Ministry of Defence for a joint French-Israeli action against Egypt. As the strongman in the Mollet government, Bourgès-Maunoury was all for it, as Peres discovered when he was in Paris in early August.
‘How much time do you reckon it would take your army to cross the Sinai peninsula and reach Suez?’ the French Minister asked outright. Peres replied that the accepted assessment in Israel was between five and seven days. Bourgès shook his head sceptically. In France, he said, it is usual to accord an operation like that about three weeks. He went on to ask whether Israel was planning to act one day on her southern border and, if so, when? Peres answered that ‘our Suez is Eilat. We will never reconcile ourselves to a blockade, and that would be the reason for an Israeli action – if ever there is one.’
Then another French participant in the meeting laid all his cards on the table: ‘If France goes to war against Egypt, will Israel be prepared to go with us?’ ‘Yes!’ Peres replied immediately. As they were walking out of the meeting, Yosef Nachmias mumbled to Peres, only half in jest: ‘You should be hanged for such a commitment! Who gave you the authority to make it?’
‘If I had said no,’ Peres explained, ‘that would be the end of the tie with France. On the other hand, it is clear that such an operation requires the approval of the Israeli Government. We can always change our minds.’15
Ben-Gurion reacted cautiously. It was one thing to puncture Egyptian pretensions to Arab leadership, but not at the cost of being seen by the rest of the world as an aggressor. Like Eden, Ben-Gurion needed Egyptian provocation to justify action. On the other hand, Israel was in need of friends. The French offer was not to be lightly dismissed. Mollet was also cautious. He had invested too much political capital in the Anglo-French joint command to be able to switch allies at this late stage in the game. But he too was ready to continue exploratory talks.
On the afternoon of 24 August Ben-Gurion chaired a meeting of army general staff with French envoys led by Robert Lacoste. ‘I agreed to French planes using our airfields and [proposed] that any assistance they may need be extended to them. Then Gilbert turned to Lacoste with a radical proposition; that Israel conquer the Sinai Peninsula thereby de facto turning the Canal into an international waterway.’16 It was clear that France was prepared to go much farther than Ben-Gurion or any of his colleagues had dared to hope.
To move things along, and to test just how far the French would commit themselves, Peres put in a request that left his fellow negotiators open mouthed. Would the French defence ministry please supply Israel with a 1,000-kilowatt atomic reactor? There was no immediate response except for diplomatic puffing and panting, but a deal to transfer nuclear technology eventually became part of the broader agreement to coordinate action against Nasser.17 The handing over of that small reactor would enable Israel to establish its first atomic pile at Dimona. It certainly helped to swing Ben-Gurion towards a partnership with France. On 21 September he cabled Peres on support for a military operation to topple Nasser. ‘If they act at their convenience, we will back them to the best of our ability.’ To those of his ministers who voiced reservations he said, ‘This is the birth of the first serious alliance between us and a western power. We can’t not accept it.’18
The second Canal Users’ Conference opened in London on 19 September. Selwyn Lloyd was again chairman. Dulles made a united front with his Anglo-French allies (Lloyd regarded his speech as the best he had heard from the secretary of state19). But privately Dulles despaired of a positive outcome. As he cabled the president after the first day:
My general impression is that the British and the French have quite isolated themselves even from what are naturally their closest friends. The Norwegians, whom the British habitually count upon, are worried; and also Italy, which since the war has worked closely with France, is worried. The fact is that the United States is the only bridge between the British and the French and the rest of the countries here. I do not yet know whether that bridge is going to hold. The Egyptians are making an enormous effort to make it appear that the Users’ Association is a device to lead the members down the path to war for which the British and the French are preparing, and Egyptian propaganda in this sense is having a definite impact. Doubt that we shall make as much or as rapid progress this week as the British and French have wanted, but we will know better by tomorrow.20
But tomorrow came and went and so did the rest of the week without any resolution of the outstanding issues. In Washington, the combined talents of the CIA and military intelligence concluded that while Britain and France were ‘convinced that the elimination of Nasser is essential to the preservation of vital Western interests in the Middle East and North Africa . . . military action is likely only in the event of some new and violent provocation’.21 On this occasion, American intelligence was wrong. A misleading impression of Anglo-French intentions had been created by an apparent softening of the French position. While Pineau insisted to Dulles that ‘if the negotiation with Nasser does not produce results, we shall resume our freedom of action’, 22 he was now happy to go along with the British appeal to the UN. Though Dulles was still opposed to the move, the willingness of France to continue talking was judged to be a good sign. What he did not know was that most of the critical talking was with Israel and the question was not whether force would be used but when.
Eden must have suspected that something was going on in Paris and that he was being deliberately excluded. Certainly there were worries in London that the ties of the Anglo-French alliance were loosening. An opportunity to clear up misunderstandings was on offer at the end of September when Eden and Mollet were to meet in Paris. Subsequently Eden and Lloyd referred to this get-together as a spur-of-the-moment arrangement, but the date had been fixed long before. While the Middle East was high on the agenda there were British concerns other than Suez, notably Jordan, where King Hussein was under threat from Egypt and Israel, the latter having ambitions to strengthen its frontier by occupying west Jordan.
Knowing that the talks would not be easy, Eden cast about for ways of demonstrating to Mollet his unwavering dedication to the Anglo-French alliance. What about taking up Mollet’s suggestion for a common citizenship?23 Anthony Nutting, who was told to frame a proposal, found it hard to take the suggestion seriously. Eden presented it as his own idea, failing to mention Mollet and Pineau’s visit to London immediately after Nasser’s Suez speech. No wonder Nutting was puzzled. Since Eden had succeeded to the premiership he had set his face against continental involvement, rejecting involvement in a European army and membership of the European Coal and Steel Community and remaining aloof from the talks at Messina fifteen months earlier when the Common Market was first mooted. In the end Eden himself must have recognised the inconsistency, for he and Lloyd set off for Paris on 26 September armed with nothing but their powers of persuasion.
The French ambassador in London, Jean Chauvel, put up warning signals of the visitors giving ‘too strong an impression of the British government’s firmness towards the Suez matter’, quoting Eden’s private remark to him: ‘Make sure they understand that I completely agree on the substance, but I must take my public opinion into account.’24 Mollet was not greatly worried. He now had another and more dependable ally. And as he made clear to Eden, he was not about to put at risk his relations with Israel by telling Ben-Gurion to ease off Jordan. But nothing was said of a possible Franco-Israeli attack on Egypt.
The news that there might be an alternative French plan for disposing of Nasser came through to General Beaufre while he and Stockwell were wrestling with the challenges of switching the line of attack from Alexandria to Port Said. Beaufre now realised why Barjot had enthused over the Port Said option in the first place. When it had originally come up for discussion, Barjot had known of a possible Israeli assault across Sinai. Nasser would be caught in a pincer movement. By holding back on the second half of the plan, Barjot had given his ground forces commander the impression that he was losing his mind. Now all, or nearly all, made sense. But Beaufre was still not convinced. It seemed to him that France was having to concede too much.
The Israeli plan that was beginning to emerge called for a blitz attack on the Egyptian forces in Sinai followed by a diversion north to take the Gaza Strip and south to open up the Gulf of Aqaba. Beaufre had no doubt that the Israeli army would dispose of the opposition in short order, but French support was essential in helping to destroy the Egyptian air force before it was able to attack Israeli cities. All this was pretty risky, thought Beaufre, and for what? ‘Acting alone with the Israelis, our political cover would be extremely precarious; collusion with the Israelis would be very dangerous both in the Middle East and in North Africa – and all these risks would be run simply to take Port Said, a ludicrous “hostage” which could under no circumstances bring about a decision.’25 There were other problems soon to become apparent but for the moment Beaufre had his work cut out balancing the demands of his political masters to accommodate the Israelis and cooperating with the British command without letting them know of the possible Israeli involvement.
The day after Eden and Lloyd returned to London, Moshe Dayan, along with foreign minister Golda Meir, transport minister Moshe Carmal and Peres, flew to Paris. Their first formal session with their French hosts was at the Montparnasse home of Louis Mangin, the political aide to Bourgès-Maunoury. Pineau, who was now fully informed of the Israeli connection, was there, along with Bourgès-Maunoury, Abel Thomas, director general of the defence ministry, and General Challe. Much to the disappointment of the Israelis, Mollet chose to keep his distance (citing a political crisis as an excuse), and it was Pineau who led the discussion, making clear that France was determined to take back the Suez Canal by whatever means.
Pineau spoke for about forty-five minutes, and then our delegation presented Israel’s position. First, we agreed with the French view that relations with Nasser could no longer be regularized by diplomatic means. There was now no alternative to military action. Second, we regarded France as our friend and ally and agreed wholeheartedly to act jointly with her. Third, we had to be certain of Britain’s stand if she stayed out of the campaign. Would she invoke her treaty with Jordan and go to her aid if Jordan should attack Israel, or if Israel should move into the West Bank in reaction to the entry of Iraqi forces into Jordan? If she would, we could find ourselves in a situation whereby we were allied with France in a military operation against Egypt on one front, while Britain was fighting at the side of Jordan and Iraq against us on another. Fourth, what was the United States likely to do? During our War of Independence she had declared an embargo on arms to the Middle East. Now America might declare an economic embargo, which would be a grave hardship. And finally, what of the Soviet Union? Was she likely to send her forces to the aid of Egypt?26
Cautious if optimistic responses were made to these queries. Much depended on how the forthcoming debate at the UN turned out for the Anglo-French case against Egypt. But one important conclusion was arrived at. France alone did not have the air strength to bomb the Egyptian air force out of existence. British support was essential. An effort was made on the French side to minimise the problem. If Israel opened the campaign and France committed her troops, Britain was bound to join in. Dayan was not so sure; neither was Ben-Gurion. They both distrusted the British, who ‘hated the very idea that [their country] might possibly be smeared as partners with Israel in military action against Arabs but, at the same time, would welcome the chance of exploiting Israel’s conflict with the Arabs to justify their action against Egypt’.27
While the French and Israeli military were edging towards a coordinated plan for the invasion of Egypt, the French and the British military were putting the finishing touches to Musketeer Revise, their latest plan for the invasion of Egypt. The objective of Musketeer Revise was to break down ‘Egyptian resistance to Western operation of the Suez Canal and enable Allied forces to secure the Canal Zone’. This was to be achieved in three phases. In phase one, a surprise allied air attack would destroy the Egyptian air force before it could get off the ground. In the next phase key military targets would be taken out while submitting the Egyptian citizenry to a barrage of propaganda urging them to dispose of their leader. After Nasser’s fall, British and French troops would land at Port Said to take possession of the Canal Zone before moving on to Cairo to set up a puppet government or at least one that was sympathetic to Western interests. The invasion force was to be held in a state of readiness with Keightley and his commanders expecting, at most, ten days’ notice for the action to begin.
When told about Musketeer Revise, Walter Monckton, who was in his last days as minister of defence (he resigned on 11 October to be succeeded by Anthony Head), voiced what everyone was thinking but hardly dared say. ‘Very interesting, but how do we actually start this war?’28
There were two other vital questions attached to Musketeer Revise. The first was the impact on Egyptian morale of a sustained air attack. Air Marshal Sir Denis Barnet, air task force commander, was supported by the chief of staff in his belief that Egyptian resistance would crumble as soon as the bombs fell. It was a theory that had been found wanting in the Second World War. Saturation bombing had done little if anything to shorten the conflict. But this was different. No one was suggesting that the civilian population should be made to suffer. On the contrary, targets were to be carefully monitored for their military and economic value. Advances in aircraft design had raised the accuracy rate of precision bombing and, anyway, the Egyptians lacked the fighting spirit of the Germans.
These arguments were not rock solid. There were those who believed that the Egyptians under Nasser’s charismatic leadership might well put up tough opposition. Keightley and Stockwell were not inclined to take chances, hence their insistence on putting together a seaborne invasion force to rival the Normandy landings. This drove Beaufre to distraction. Where was the British sense of urgency?
Another question that hovered over Musketeer Revise had to do with the power of psychological warfare. Its foremost exponent was General Templer, who had made heavy use of propaganda in the closing stages of his campaign against insurgents in Malaya. On 2 August he produced a memorandum calling for an all-out attack on Egyptian morale.29 The result was the setting up of an information coordination executive made up of representatives from a range of government departments, from the cabinet office to the ministry of defence, together with the BBC controller of overseas services.
If these diverse talents could agree on anything it was the fundamental difference of mounting a war of words in Malaya, where Templer was able to hold out the promise of forthcoming independence to persuade guerrilla fighters to surrender their arms, and in Egypt, where it was nigh impossible to think of any Anglo-French offer that could possibly win converts. Appeals to Egyptians to overthrow Nasser were unlikely to carry conviction when there was no clear or attractive alternative.
The choice of front man for the psychological war fell on the unfortunate Brigadier Bernard Fergusson, a friend and former colleague of Templer, whose career spanned Burma and Palestine. Fergusson was all that a soldier should be, but otherwise he was not well suited to his role. ‘My only assets were my knowledge of the Middle East, my ability to speak French and the fact that I was available.’30
The manner of his recruitment should have warned Fergusson that this was not the way to win promotion. His account of what happened reads like something out of a John Buchan novel.
It was some time in late August. I had arranged to catch the night train north, and my wife was to meet me at Perth first thing in the morning. I had boarded the train, and was sitting down to a pink gin in the restaurant car before dinner with two fellow-travellers whom I happened to know when I felt the crook of an umbrella handle steal round my upper arm from behind. I looked round, and there was ‘Pooh’ Hobbs, my former Number Two at COHQ, now a major-general and Commandant at Sandhurst. He was smiling, but he left no room for argument when he said: ‘I have to tell you to get hold of your luggage, get off the train and come with me’.
