Introduction
SAVING THE COUNTRY
It was a hot summer night in 2014, and Ehud Olmert was sitting at home looking at some news sites online. The former prime minister came across a story about fighting taking place in eastern Syria near the ancient city of Deir ez-Zor, located along the banks of the mighty Euphrates River.
At first glance it didn’t mean much. The civil war in Syria had erupted three years earlier and while it had long ago turned into a humanitarian disaster, the world seemed to simply not care.
It started with protests in Damascus in March 2011, as it had around the same time in other capitals throughout the Middle East and North Africa, in what was then still referred to as the Arab Spring. Ordinary Syrians took to the streets demanding democratic and economic reforms. They wanted political prisoners released from jail and an end to government corruption and draconian emergency laws that, for decades, had ruled over their lives.
Muammar Gaddafi had been captured and executed in Libya, Hosni Mubarak was dramatically overthrown in Egypt, but Bashar al-Assad, the Syrian president, was continuing to hold on and fight the rebel forces, in a deadly, bloody and controversial war that would eventually see the rise of ISIS, the Islamic State in Iraq and the Levant. Artificial border lines drawn a century earlier with a pencil and ruler were proven worthless by a force that used pickup trucks carrying five men dressed in black fatigues and armed with Kalashnikov assault rifles and rocket-propelled grenades.
By 2014, what was happening in Syria was a full-fledged war, one that had exceeded all predictions of how long it would last and whether Assad’s regime would survive. With help in the beginning from Iran and Hezbollah and later from Russia, Assad was fighting back with all available means.
The regime’s use of chemical weapons had passed by with little repercussion the previous summer, and while there was talk about coalition airstrikes and the global threat the Islamic State posed Europe, the West had pretty much fallen into a routine. Countries condemned Syria’s leader but never took action. It was still a few months before the US would finally step up its involvement and launch airstrikes against ISIS targets throughout the country.
But that July, the Islamic State announced that it had completed its takeover of Deir ez-Zor, the primary hub of Syria’s oil and natural gas industry and a place—like many in the Middle East—rich in history, blood and violence.
During Roman times, Deir ez-Zor was an important trading post. A few centuries later, it changed hands and became part of the ancient kingdom of Palmyra. But the wave of conquests didn’t stop there. In the late nineteenth century, the city came under the control of the Ottoman Empire, eventually becoming the final destination point for Armenians forced on the death march during the genocide that began in 1915. Those who survived the marches were taken to a nearby desert patch where they were shot and buried in mass graves.
ISIS, Olmert read that night, was now in control of most of the Tigris-Euphrates river basin, an area similar in size to the entire United Kingdom. It reigned over the territory it conquered through a combination of terror, zealotry, a savvy use of social media and improvised battlefield tactics. It was a force that Assad’s conventional military was failing to defeat.
The Israeli government was carefully tracking what was happening in Syria. From its perspective, the war there had nothing to do with Israel, and therefore there was very little it could do to make a genuine difference. Yes, it felt a moral imperative to help the people being massacred and, as a result, established a field hospital along the border to treat the wounded. But it knew that it had to be careful not to be dragged into the war over the border. If it was, Israel’s involvement would be used by Assad to claim that the civil war was actually a Zionist plot, which would help him garner greater support at Israel’s expense.
But that evening, Olmert was focused on Deir ez-Zor. The story he was reading was of extreme importance. It was a validation of a decision he had made seven years earlier, one that if not taken would have transformed the world and made it an even scarier place.
Olmert’s three-year term as prime minister had been marked by conflict, peace negotiations and political upheaval. In 2006, he took the country to war in Lebanon against Hezbollah and in 2008 against Hamas in the Gaza Strip. In 2009, as his term came to a premature ending, he tried to hammer out a peace deal with the Palestinians, making their leader an offer to which Olmert would never receive an answer.
But now, five years later, Olmert was still in the spotlight. A few months earlier, the Tel Aviv District Court had found him guilty of receiving bribes when he was mayor of Jerusalem, about a decade earlier, and sentenced him to six years in prison. Olmert wasn’t giving up and was in the midst of finalizing his appeal to the Supreme Court.
After finishing the article, Olmert looked out the window of his home in Motza Illit, a small and sleepy suburb to the west of Jerusalem, Israel’s capital city. In the distance he saw the tower of Hadassah Hospital, one of the country’s leading medical institutions. To the south he could see the Har Menuchot cemetery, a place where, according to Jewish tradition, some of the first people will be resurrected when the Messiah comes. And just below was Highway 1, the country’s main artery, connecting Jerusalem with Tel Aviv and beyond.
Back in 1948, when the State of Israel was first established, Highway 1 was impossible to drive on. The Jordanians had taken up positions along sections of the highway, making it dangerous for convoys to use on their way to bring supplies to the besieged Jews of Jerusalem. To get through, the newly formed Israel Defense Forces (IDF), under the direction of American-Jewish Colonel Mickey Marcus, paved the makeshift Burma Road through the mountains, bypassing the Jordanians and entering Jerusalem not far from where Olmert sat that evening. Marcus’s courage cost him his life but helped breach the Jordanian siege on Jerusalem.
Israel’s story, Olmert thought at the time, could have been different. As he looked out the window, he imagined what would have happened had he listened to those who had urged him not to act. He imagined how Israeli history would have been changed forever.
Israel would have found itself living under an unimaginable threat, and ISIS, he knew, would have come into possession of a nightmarish capability, morphing it from a ruthless terrorist group into an existential threat not just for Israel, but for the entire Western world.
There was no one around for Olmert to share his satisfaction with and it didn’t really matter. Israel in 2014 still wasn’t officially speaking about what Olmert had done back in 2007. It was an operation that would stay hidden from the public, a story that would never be told in its entirety.
Until now.
* * *
This book tells—for the first time and from the perspective of Jerusalem and Washington, DC—the full and true story behind Israel’s daring operation to destroy the al-Kibar nuclear reactor, which was being built under a tight veil of secrecy in the Syrian desert, in September 2007. It is a tale of espionage, political courage, military might and psychological warfare on a national scale.
It is also a story that brings Israel’s powerful military and diplomatic alliance with the United States to life. It reveals what happens behind the closed doors and heated debates in the Oval Office in Washington, the Prime Minister’s Office in Jerusalem and the underground military command center beneath IDF headquarters in Tel Aviv.
It is a story of extreme importance and relevance, as these two countries remain united in a nonstop battle to prevent nuclear proliferation, to defeat Islamic terror and to curtail Iran’s attempts to spread its hegemony throughout the Middle East. While this story takes place in 2007, the ramifications of what happened in Syria continue to impact the world we live in today.
The events of September 6, 2007, were, for the most part, a success. Israel discovered a threat, took action, neutralized it and avoided a larger conflict. But it could have been different. Had Israel not learned of the existence of Syria’s reactor, what would the Middle East look like today? It is scary just to think about.
Despite more than 70 years of statehood, the small country of Israel still faces conflict along its borders, possibly more so today than ever before. While Israel’s wars of the past—the Independence War in 1948, the Six Day War in 1967 and the Yom Kippur War in 1973—were fought against multiple enemies with conventional militaries, they were for the most part fought against adversaries that were rational and predictable.
Today, Israel is surrounded by terrorist organizations with growing weapons arsenals, in countries—like Syria, Lebanon and Egypt—whose regimes are constantly teetering on the precipice of survival. While this has an upside—Israeli territory is less at risk of being conquered—the regional situation carries with it an unprecedented sense of uncertainty and the possibility of war erupting without any warning.
When protests first broke out in Syria in 2011, Israeli and American intelligence agencies were sure that the country’s president, Bashar al-Assad, would not survive: that he would meet the same fate as Mubarak or Gaddafi. Former Israeli prime minister Ehud Barak, who at the time served as defense minister, said that Assad’s regime was just weeks away from falling. Others believed the same but Assad proved them all wrong, utilizing some of the most vicious military tactics available to ensure his survival, including dropping chemical weapons on his own people.
In more recent years, Israel’s concern has been focused mostly on the Golan Heights, the Jewish state’s version of Tuscany and home to a growing wine and beer industry, beautiful waterfalls, lush vineyards, an abundance of archeological sites, rolling mountains and wide vistas.
Conquered from Syria in 1967, the Golan was the scene of the world’s last real conventional ground battle during the 1973 Yom Kippur War, when Syrian and Israeli tanks exchanged blows in a battle that ended with Israel still in control of the strategic high ground. Nowadays, old Syrian Soviet-made tanks are strewn throughout some of the Golan’s uncleared minefields, a testament to the fierce battles that once raged among its hills.
Despite the countries officially being enemies, the Syrian border was, surprisingly, Israel’s quietest for nearly five decades. All of that changed in the spring of 2011 when the civil war began. In the years that followed, Israel had a front-row seat to the rise of new enemies and eventually the arrival of Russia right up along its border. It was the creation of a modern Middle East mosaic.
Starting at the southern tip of the Golan near the hot springs of Hamat Gader, ISIS fighters used to roam freely. A little farther north one could encounter fighters from al Qaida affiliate Jabhat al-Nusra. A few more miles and you could meet members of Iran’s Revolutionary Guard Corps as well as fighters from its Lebanese proxy, Hezbollah.
When the war first erupted, Israel’s focus was on how to stay out of the fight with the exception of two red lines that, when crossed, moved the IDF into action. The first was the transfer of advanced weapons—like ballistic missiles and surface-to-air missile systems—from Syria to Hezbollah, Israel’s arch nemesis in Lebanon. The second: when it identified Iranian efforts to establish bases on the Syrian side of the Golan Heights. Since 2011, over 200 such Israeli strikes have targeted these bases and convoys.
All of the strikes were carried out discreetly, with Israel maintaining a policy of ambiguity. It never confirmed responsibility for the strikes but when asked, Israel didn’t deny that it had been behind them either.
“We are controlling our borders, we are protecting our country and we will continue to do so,” Benjamin Netanyahu, Israel’s prime minister, said in a rare public statement on Syria toward the end of 2017.1
One such strike took Israel and Syria to the brink of war and demonstrated how different things could have been had Israel not acted in 2007.
It was in February 2018 when Israeli Air Force radar systems detected the infiltration of an unmanned aerial vehicle, a drone, into northern Israel. The drone had taken off from T4, Syria’s large airbase near the city of Homs. Time was short. While the radar system tracked the drone from the moment it left T4, Israel had no way of knowing if it was carrying explosives, missiles or was simply on a reconnaissance mission.
An Apache helicopter was scrambled from a nearby base and quickly caught up with the drone. It locked on its missiles, fired and scored a direct hit. Later, upon analyzing the wreckage, Israel discovered that the drone had been packed with explosives, and was likely on its way to crash and explode on a nearby IDF base. The drone was Iranian and was called Saegheh. It was a copy of America’s RQ-170, an advanced stealth drone made by Lockheed Martin, one of which had crashed in Iran in 2011.
The infiltration was a violation of Israeli sovereignty and the first direct Iranian attack on the Jewish state. In the past, Iran used proxies like Hezbollah in Lebanon or Hamas in the Gaza Strip to attack Israel; this time Tehran was doing it all on its own. The drone was Iranian and the drone operator was Iranian.
Israel didn’t waste time. Four F-16s were scrambled from the nearby Ramat David Air Force Base. As they approached the border with Syria, they dropped their GPS-guided missiles, which made their way straight to the Iranian caravan from which the drone had been operated in T4. It was a direct hit.
But then, as the F-16s began returning to base, an alarm in one of the cockpits went off. An S-200 surface-to-air missile, carrying a 200-kg warhead, was heading directly toward one of the fighter jets. It had locked on and the Israeli F-16 was about to be hit. The pilot and navigator didn’t hesitate. They ejected, mere seconds before their aircraft was blown to pieces.
The country was shocked. Israel had carried out dozens of strikes against Syrian targets but had never met a response like this. Additionally, over 30 years had passed since an Israeli fighter jet was shot down by an enemy missile. This wasn’t a simple matter. For the first time since the Islamic Revolution of 1979, Israel and Iran were on the brink of a direct confrontation.
Israel retaliated swiftly and aggressively. The three remaining aircraft launched the rest of their missiles at a dozen more Iranian and Syrian targets throughout the country, including the surface-to-air missile battery that had downed the F-16. Had the aircrew been killed, had they not ejected in time, Israel might have felt compelled to escalate its response.
It was an example of the volatility along Israel’s northern border with Syria. Israel had operated covertly over Syria in the past. But on this day, it was all made public, showing that even small operations can sometimes have deadly consequences.
Now imagine that Syria had nuclear weapons. That it still had a nuclear reactor in northeast Syria. That in 2007, Israel had not stopped it.
Copyright © 2019 by Yaakov Katz