The last throw of the dice by Netanyahu took place in the autumn of 1998, when he entered into secret negotiations with the Syrians aimed at securing a peace agreement that would potentially be the crowning achievement of his time in office. It would also represent something more tangible with which to go to the country, rather than the problematic Wye Memorandum.
During the initial stages of his government, Netanyahu adopted the same hawkish position towards Damascus as his previous writings and speeches had suggested he would. To a certain extent, he used the Syrian track of the peace process to flex his hawkish credentials to his party and coalition, at the same time as making difficult concessions to the Palestinians. This strategy was not altogether convincing, but it did provide Netanyahu with some breathing room.
The central feature of Netanyahu’s policy towards Syria appeared to be robust and consistent: he would not resume negotiations with the Syrians on the basis of carrying on from where they had ended with the previous Peres-led Labour government.1 Here his argument was simple: Syria had not signed an internationally binding agreement with Israel and, therefore, he was not obliged to continue the policies of the previous government. Both Rabin and Peres had been willing to return most, or all, of the disputed Golan Heights area in exchange for peace.2
Within both the Likud and the coalition there were strong internal restraints on Netanyahu over the Syrian track of the peace process. So-called security experts in the Likud rejected the formula of a total return of the Golan Heights for a total peace. Netanyahu was advised by members of his party to seek a different formula from that employed by the Likud with Egypt and the Camp David Agreement, which saw all of the Sinai returned to Egypt in exchange for peace.
Netanyahu tried a number of different versions of the formula – none of which proved to be of much interest to Syria – that demanded, as a minimum price for peace, the return of 100 per cent of the Golan Heights. At first, Netanyahu tried to propose confidence-building measures such as asking Syria to restrain Hezbollah from mounting attacks against Israeli forces in southern Lebanon. This was rejected outright in Syria. Other schemes included proposed discussions on water rights and high-level military contacts to prevent any misunderstandings on the Golan Heights.3
The Syrians steadfastly stuck to their position that any new negotiations must start from the point at which those with the old government had finished. This was taken to mean that unless Netanyahu was willing to honour the commitments of the previous Peres government to withdraw from all of the Golan Heights, he was wasting his energy trying to move the Syrian track of the peace process forward.
With time running out for his government, Netanyahu made a stunning U-turn, one that was further evidence of his pragmatic, rather than ideological, approach to the peace process. Through private intermediaries in the United States, Netanyahu made contact with the Syrian leader, President Hafez al-Assad, and reportedly offered him a full Israeli withdrawal to 4 June 1967 borders in return for peace.4
In terms of selling an agreement, Netanyahu planned to do exactly what Dennis Ross and the rest of the Clinton team had hoped he would do with the Wye Memorandum, namely attempt to bypass the internal restraints imposed upon him by the Israeli right. His strategy was straight out of the manual that Ross had pleaded with him to follow with the Palestinians. Netanyahu intended to take any deal over the Golan Heights to the Israeli public, either as the central part of his election manifesto or in a separate referendum on the agreement.
In the end, all the plans for selling the agreement became redundant as President Assad rejected the offer. A number of explanations were put forward as to why he turned down Netanyahu. It was suggested the Syrian leader considered that the Netanyahu government was likely to collapse at any time. Another theory was that Assad simply wasn’t interested in making peace with Israel, or preferred the status quo of no war, no peace, which suited his domestic political needs.
In Israel, there was speculation in the media that President Assad turned down the deal because Ehud Barak and the Labour Party were offering him better terms than Netanyahu. Hang on and wait for us, was the alleged message from the Labour Party. Whatever the real explanation for Assad declining the offer – and in all probability it was a mixture of the reasons mentioned here – it removed Netanyahu’s last chance of pulling off a ‘political spectacular’ that would have shaken up Israeli politics.5
The Syrian issue was not a stand-alone one; it was heavily related to Lebanon – and specifically for Netanyahu – on how to extricate the IDF from the self-proclaimed security zone in the south of the country. Israel had found it much easier to invade and conquer Lebanon in 1982 than to withdraw from the country. It was an issue that had vexed all Israeli prime ministers since 1982, and one that Netanyahu was left to try to clear up.
Israel’s predicament in Lebanon had all the intricacies of a Federico Fellini film.6 Israel wanted to leave Lebanon, but Syria didn’t want to let Israel leave, so encouraged Hezbollah to promise attacks on northern Israel even if the IDF departed from Lebanon. Syria’s intentions were to make Lebanon as painful as possible for Israel, by keeping it locked into a protracted low-intensity war with Hezbollah that resulted in, on average, two dozen Israeli deaths each year.
Like all his predecessors, Netanyahu wanted to leave Lebanon ‘yesterday’. He was aware, however, that security arrangements would have to be agreed to prevent attacks on Israel’s northern towns, such as Kiryat Shmona. It was widely anticipated that Hezbollah would take over all the territory that Israel withdrew from, bringing the group right up to the fence along the Israeli–Lebanon border.
Initially, Netanyahu had proposed what he termed a Lebanon first plan. This would have seen an agreed Israeli pull-back with Syria consenting to an exercise of restraint over Hezbollah. While Netanyahu thought the plan was good, the Syrians showed no interest in it. Instead, the Syrians made it clear that they would use Lebanon as a means of increasing the pressure on Israel to agree to a full withdrawal from the Golan Heights. Even when Netanyahu seemingly agreed to a full withdrawal from the Golan Heights, the Syrians proved reluctant to give up their Lebanon card.
In truth, Netanyahu had a difficult time trying to manage Israel’s Lebanon policy. At times, he appeared to be over-reliant on the advice of the General Staff of the IDF, whose policy was to accept the status quo. There was a noticeable lack of alternative policies emanating from the Prime Minister’s office along with a flat rejection of the idea of a unilateral Israeli withdrawal (without Syrian agreement). ‘Grin and bear it’ best characterized Israeli policy towards Lebanon under Netanyahu, but nobody from his cabinet or party offered any better alternatives.7
By December 1998, Netanyahu had used up all his political lives. His crude argument to the right-wing in Israel: ‘if you think I am bad, wait until you see the next guy’, had lost much of its impact. In the corridors of the Knesset, Likud MKs, along with their coalition partners, were openly talking of anybody but Netanyahu.
His personal aura was diminished. Politically, his position had been weakened by an electoral system that reduced the ability of the Prime Minister to lead the country, and an inability to commit to implementing the deal he had signed at Wye. Netanyahu’s term in office, as a result, was threatening to end in abject failure.
The timing of the demise of the government was the only factor left over which Netanyahu could exercise some control. His advisors argued that he needed to take decisive action to control this, as the opposition had put down a motion of no confidence in the government in the Knesset.
The opposition appeared, to all intents and purposes, to have the necessary number of votes for the motion to succeed. If it did, it would have meant new elections for Prime Minister and the Knesset within 60 days.8
With the opinion polls at the time indicating apparent low levels of support for Netanyahu, the last thing he wanted was a snap election. Instead, on 21 December, with the reluctant support of Netanyahu, the Knesset voted to dissolve the government (81 in favour with 30 against and four abstentions), which, in turn, meant the dissolution of the Knesset. The date for new elections was later set for 17 May 1999. It was to be one of the longest election campaigns in Israeli history.
The biggest victim of the extended election campaign was the peace process, especially the implementation of the Wye Memorandum. As is the case in most Israeli election campaigns, the peace process was put on hold. Arafat and the Americans would have to await the outcome of the election in May 1999.
Immediately prior to the vote on 21 December, Netanyahu had made a last-minute appeal to Barak to form a national unity government. Against the advice of several leading members of the Labour Party, Barak rejected the offer and the Knesset vote went ahead. The fear in the Labour Party, at the time, was that Barak and the party would lose the elections in May.
Despite his coalition difficulties, there were no major signs that religious Soviet immigrants and Sephardic voters were willing to abandon Netanyahu for Barak and the parties of the left.9 Barak needed to secure at least one of these key constituencies if he were to beat Netanyahu in the race to become Prime Minister.
Netanyahu’s last act, before becoming the caretaker Prime Minister, was to set the electoral clock as far back as possible. He believed that his electioneering skills would come to the fore during this extended campaign, and that he would be able to inflict political damage on his rivals who were running against him for Prime Minister.
At the centre of his strategy was his deeply held belief that much of the Israeli electorate had not really connected with Barak. The other candidates, in his eyes, had still not been subjected to the levels of scrutiny that came with national campaigns.
From Netanyahu’s perspective, the plan made good sense. He was a natural at campaigning, enjoyed the challenge of electioneering and understood how to win elections. Barak was stiff on the campaign trail and at times looked as if he wanted to be somewhere else.
On television, Barak could not stop speaking like the ex-general he was. Barak’s answers were too detailed, his analysis too deep for the average Israeli to understand. His tone was characterized by a slight ‘know it all’ streak, and he spoke as if he were talking to a class of IDF officer cadets rather than an electorate.
So, far from being downhearted, Netanyahu hit the campaign trail in an upbeat mood. He genuinely believed that he would win the election. His team told him to focus on his security record, and the fact that the number of attacks against Israelis was much lower when he was at the helm than in the Rabin–Peres era. Concessions to the Palestinians were to be put down to appeasing American pressure.
In a surprisingly candid interview with Time magazine in January 1999, Netanyahu attempted to set the record straight about his government, its mistakes and downfall, as well as to make a case for his re-election. The interviewer started by asking Netanyahu if he regarded his government as a failure because he had been forced to go to early elections. Netanyahu offered a robust defence:
It’s a failure of the coalition. It was just a question of time before it fell because of a challenge from the right flank. I could have kept the government had I submitted to the terms posed to me from my right wing, which said that if I tore up the Oslo and Wye Accords, they would stay. I refused, and equally I refused subsequent conditions from the left that said I should go ahead and implement Oslo regardless of Palestinian violations and no matter what violence the Palestinians perpetrate on us.10
When asked what he would do differently in a potential second term he responded defiantly:
I wouldn’t do anything differently on the political side. Where I would do things differently is in the management of egos. I would say the Prime Minister has to devote equal time not only to the tasks of security and peacemaking and economic reform, all of which I did to my utmost, but to the maintenance, shall we say, of personal relationships.11
The message here from Netanyahu was clear: he felt that any failure attributed to his government did not originate from its policies, rather from his management of the key politicians in the coalition. In electoral terms, he was saying, ‘vote for me and you’ll get more of the same in the peace process, but this time I will manage the coalition in a better manner’.
The answer revealed Netanyahu’s strange disconnect from Israeli politics at the time. His failure to deliver the workable third way that he had outlined at the outset of his government was glossed over.
Where Netanyahu was more in tune was in understanding the sea change in Israeli politics that had shifted away from ideological and political parties to a concentration in personality politics. In Israeli politics the personality and credibility of the leader had become the most important factor in determining the outcome of elections.12
While Netanyahu remained popular among the rank and file members of the Likud, many of whom had been recruited to the party by the Prime Minister, he remained almost universally unpopular among fellow politicians. When asked about this polarized opinion of him by Time, he offered a curious response:
It’s the physics of the record disk. Those in the outer circle move with greater speed, and the closer you get to the pivot the slower they turn. So it’s the same thing. Those who are closest to the hub of politics move the slowest. It may take them a few years to accept the leadership. There’s a cadre of people who were ahead of me when I entered the Likud, who never really accepted my leadership.13
A common theme of his premiership was the charge made by members of the cabinet and the coalition that he was untrustworthy. When politicians came to cash the political cheques that Netanyahu had written, he simply refused to honour them. On this Netanyahu tried to turn the argument around:
Every time somebody does not receive from you what they want, they say, ‘Netanyahu lied to me.’ That’s another way of saying, ‘I didn’t get from Netanyahu what I wanted.14
The interview set the tone for the first part of the campaign. Netanyahu believed that his leadership and policies merited a second term.
The perception of being an outsider in the political system helped Netanyahu’s case. The type of stranger in a strange land syndrome resonated well with religious Jews, Soviet immigrants and the Sephardim who perceived themselves as being rejected by the traditional veteran elites in Israel.15 Netanyahu had harboured this sense of alienation in 1996 to help secure the votes of these constituencies.
In political terms, many voters in this group viewed Netanyahu’s policies as good ones. According to the Israeli journalist Ari Shavit they viewed Netanyahu as a type of ‘national goalkeeper’ who was able to say no and who protected Israel’s possessions and very survival.16 In other words, Netanyahu was a product of the deep divisions within Israeli society that were caused by more than simply the debate over policies towards the Arab–Israeli conflict.
The race to win the direct election for Prime Minister was complicated for Netanyahu and Barak, with the initial presence of additional candidates in the ring. The launch of a new Centre Party in January 1999, which contained a group of dissatisfied ex-Likud ministers, and Amnon Lipkin-Shahak, the recently retired Chief of Staff of the IDF, appeared to bring a new start in Israeli centre-ground politics.
The addition of Netanyahu’s Minister of Defence, Yitzhak Mordechai, to the party on 23 January 1999, following his dramatic sacking for attacking Netanyahu’s policies, appeared to add further credibility to the Centre Party. Soon after, Mordechai was elected as head of the party, largely based on opinion polls that indicated he was slightly more popular than Lipkin-Shahak. From this point on, however, this essentially anti-Netanyahu party started to fall apart. Bickering among its leaders, and difficulties in putting together a meaningful platform, reduced its impact prior to election day.
As winter ended in Israel, Netanyahu’s prospects for success at the polls looked no worse than they had been in the previous December. There were, however, worrying signs that Barak and Labour were starting to up their performance in the campaign, and that Barak was making inroads into one of Netanyahu’s key constituencies. The momentum was slowly starting to swing Barak’s way, after his slow start to the campaign.