Memoirs of a President Once again an all too familiar tale of bloodshed and tragedy in the Middle East dominates the world’s news. In Lebanon, foreign soldiers troop the streets of Beirut in hopes of keeping that country’s feuding factions from one another’s throats. In Israel, a nation shaken by the question of its culpability, by omission or commission, for the massacre of Palestinians in Beirut, Prime Minister Menachem Begin faces the greatest challenge yet to his five-year rule. Against this backdrop, TIME begins excerpting on the following pages the memoirs of an American President, who, as he writes, “spent more of my time working for possible solutions to the riddle of Middle East peace than on any other international problem.” It was Jimmy Carter who brought Begin and Egypt’s President Anwar Sadat together for 13 days of highly charged negotiations that finally produced the Camp David accords of September 1978. That agreement remains the framework for a broader peace settlement now being pushed forcefully by Ronald Reagan.
In Keeping Faith, a 622-page account of his White House tenure to be published on Nov. 2 (Bantam Books; $22.50), Carter presents the most intimate and detailed version to date of the scene behind the scenes at Camp David—the intense arguments, the searing animosities, the repeated near breakdowns before final success. He also illuminates Begin’s often infuriating and exasperating behavior today by offering insights gained at Camp David into the Israeli Prime Minister’s character.
This week’s excerpt is the first of two that TIME will present from the book that, the author notes in his preface, “is my own work, typed by me at home on my trusty word processor. ” To produce it, he condensed some 5,000 pages of recollections he had dictated daily while serving in the Oval Office. In Part 1, Carter not only reviews the tumultuous days at Camp David but also comments, in an exclusive four-hour interview with TIME, on current Middle East relations and on the policies, foreign and domestic, of his successor, whom he does not admire.
Prelude to Camp David
Looking back, I find it remarkable how constantly the work for peace in the Middle East was on my mind. I had made an extensive visit through Israel in May 1973, while still Governor of Georgia, invited by Prime Minister Golda Meir to learn at first hand about her nation. This gave Rosalynn, Jody Powell, who was to become my White House press secretary, and me a chance to learn more about the land of the Bible, which we had studied since early childhood. We spent almost a week traveling around the surprisingly tiny country. For three days, before dawn, I was in the streets of Old Jerusalem, and filled each day and night with exciting visits to holy places of ancient history and to sites where history was still being made.
We lunched with the mayor of Nazareth, drove all around the Sea of Galilee, went to Cana, walked the hills around Capernaum, studied the excavations at Jericho, worshiped at Bethlehem and swam in the Dead Sea. Rosalynn and I also walked along the escarpments of the Golan Heights, traveled slowly down the entire length of the Jordan River, rode the torpedo boats at Haifa and viewed a parade at a military training center at Bethel.
In my affinity for Israel, I shared the sentiment of most other Southern Baptists that the holy places we revered should be preserved and made available for visits by Christians, and that members of other religious faiths should have the same guaranteed privileges concerning their sacred sites. Prior to the 1967 war there were no such assurances; under Jordanian rule, the areas were often closed, and some holy places were vandalized.
The Judaeo-Christian ethic and study of the Bible were bonds between Jews and Christians that had always been part of my life. I also believed very deeply that the Jews who had survived the Holocaust deserved their own nation and that they had a right to live in peace among their neighbors. I considered this homeland for the Jews to be compatible with the teachings of the Bible, hence ordained by God. These beliefs made my commitment to the security of Israel unshakable.
These were thoughts I shared with many other Americans, but as President I needed a broader perspective. For the well-being of my own country, I wanted the Middle East region stable and at peace; I did not want to see Soviet influence expanded in the area. In its ability to help accomplish these purposes, Israel was a strategic asset to the U.S.
Since I had made our nation’s commitment to human rights a central tenet of our foreign policy, it was impossible for me to ignore the very serious problems in the West Bank. The continued deprivation of Palestinian rights was contrary to the basic moral and ethical principles of both our countries. In my opinion it was imperative that the U.S. work to obtain for these people the right to vote, to assemble and to debate issues that affected their lives, to own property without fear of its being confiscated and to be free of military rule. To deny these rights was indefensible for a free and democratic society.
I had no strong feelings about the Arab countries. I had never visited one and knew no Arab leaders. Then on April 4, 1977, a shining light burst on the Middle East scene for me. I met President Anwar Sadat of Egypt, a man who would change history and whom I would come to admire more than any other political leader in the world.
At the beginning of Sadat’s visit to Washington, I thought he was a bit shy or ill at ease because he was sweating profusely. But he told me he had been unwell, with chills in Paris and a high fever since he had arrived in our country. Sadat’s complexion was much darker than I had expected, and I noticed immediately a callused spot at the center of his forehead, apparently caused by a lifetime of touching his head to the ground in prayer. He didn’t smoke very much, but he always wanted his pipe near by, and was irritated when his aide was slow in delivering it.
He was charming and frank, and also a very strong and courageous leader who would not shrink from making difficult political decisions. He was extraordinarily inclined toward boldness and seemed impatient with those more timid or cautious. I formed an immediate impression that our friendship could be very significant for both of us and that the prospects for peace in his troubled region might not be dead.
After a few weeks, Menachem Begin, then known to many Americans as a right-wing radical leader, was elected to head Israel’s government. Israeli citizens, the American Jewish community and I were shocked. None knew what to expect.
The more I dealt with other Arab leaders, the more disparity I discovered between their private assurances and their public comments. They would privately put forward ideas for peace and encourage us in any reasonable approach. However, the peer pressure among them was tremendous. None—apart from Sadat—was willing to get out in front and publicly admit a willingness to deal with Israel.
President Sadat’s visit to Jerusalem on Nov. 19-21 and his speech to the Knesset were among the most dramatic events of modern history. At the First Baptist Church in Washington, I prayed publicly for peace during a special early-morning service, and then the congregation adjourned so we could return to our homes in time to watch the arrival ceremonies on television. Sadat made a great speech, spelling out in very blunt terms the Arab requirements for any peace settlement. The meaning of the words themselves was muted by the fact that he was standing there alone, before his ancient enemies, holding out an olive branch. The Israeli welcome to him was truly remarkable. The Israelis were also facing their ancient enemy.
On May 1, 1978, Prime Minister Begin came over for the American commemoration of the 30th anniversary of the state of Israel, and we had a private discussion. I told him that peace in the Middle East was in his hands, that he had a unique opportunity to either bring it into being or kill it and that the Arabs genuinely wanted peace, particularly Sadat. My guess was that he would not take the necessary steps to bring peace to Israel—an opportunity that might never come again.
There was no prospect for success if Begin and Sadat stayed apart; and their meetings had now become fruitless because the two men were too personally incompatible to compromise on the issues facing them. There was only one thing to do, as dismal and unpleasant as the prospect seemed: I would try to bring Sadat and Begin together for an extensive negotiating session with me.
Thirteen Days on the Mountain
It was an especially beautiful evening in one of the loveliest places on earth. We were staying for a few days of rest in the Brinkerhoff Lodge on the edge of Jackson Lake in Wyoming. The Grand Tetons rose into the clear sky across the water, some of our newest and most unweathered mountains, the sharp peaks a breathtaking spectacle. Earlier in the day, I had been fly-fishing for cutthroat trout in the nearby Snake River. Late in the afternoon, Amy and I had picked wild huckleberries in a grove of quaking aspen near the cabin, and we all enjoyed a delicious berry pie for supper. Although it was not cold, Rosalynn and I built a small fire just to watch the flames in the open fireplace. It had been one of those special days.
But at its close my thoughts were not on the cutthroat trout, the delicious food or the beauties of nature. It was late at night, and I was very tired. I was studying a thick volume, written especially for me, about two men: Menachem Begin and Anwar Sadat. In a few days, on Sept. 5, 1978, I would welcome them to Camp David. Ours would be a new approach, perhaps unprecedented in history. Three leaders of nations would be isolated from the outside world; an intensely personal effort would be required of us. I had to understand these men!
Psychological analyses of two of the protagonists had been prepared by a team of experts within our intelligence community. This team used information derived from a detailed scrutiny of events, public statements, writings, known medical histories and interviews with personal acquaintances of the leaders under study. During the coming days at Camp David, my studies at the foot of the Grand Tetons were to pay rich dividends.
I directed our negotiating group to assume as our immediate ambition a written agreement for peace between Egypt and Israel, with an agenda for implementation of its terms during the succeeding months. I was convinced that if we three leaders could not resolve the very difficult issues, some of which had never before been addressed forthrightly, then no group of foreign ministers or diplomats could succeed. I had no idea whether we would succeed. I only knew that we were at a turning point and that the stakes were very high. Our plans called for us to stay three days, but we were willing to stay as long as a week if we were making progress.
Despite my efforts to the contrary, expectations had built up to a fever pitch. My only hope was that in the quiet and peaceful atmosphere of our temporary home, both Begin and Sadat would come to know and understand each other better, and that they would trust me to be honest and fair in my role as mediator and active negotiator. It was soon to be obvious that Sadat seemed to trust me too much, and Begin not enough.
It is not easy now to describe my own feelings as the meeting approached. Without being melodramatic, perhaps I can draw a parallel to the attitude of many servicemen who go into battle, or the feeling of some of my shipmates and me while we served in the submarine force. There was a curious fatalism about the process. Much of the pain and trepidation comes when the original commitment is made, and one has to accept the prospect of serious danger or failure. Subsequently, each passing day can be enjoyed with a sense of thanksgiving that one is spared.
Camp David is truly beautiful, with the cottages and paths snuggled on top and down one side of a small mountain, sheltered by a thick growth of stately oak, poplar, ash, locust, hickory and maple trees. A security fence encompasses about 125 acres of rocky terrain, and the close proximity of the living quarters engenders an atmosphere of both isolation and intimacy, conducive to easing tension and encouraging informality.
Day 1: No compatibility at all
TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 5. Rosalynn helped me greet President Sadat in the early afternoon. His wife Jehan had to remain in Paris to be with one of their grandchildren, who was ill. I had particularly wanted the three wives to be with us to ease some of the tension and create a more congenial atmosphere. There was no compatibility at all between Begin and Sadat.
Sadat would be much more willing to strive for a comprehensive agreement, while Begin would probably want to limit what might be achieved, because he was more satisfied with the status quo and was very leery about giving up any control over the West Bank or the Israeli settlement area in the Sinai. Sadat was strong and bold, very much aware of world opinion and of his role as the most important leader among the Arabs. I always had the impression that he looked on himself as inheriting the mantle of authority from the great pharaohs and was convinced that he was a man of destiny. Deeply religious, he had asked that a special place be found for him to worship; we set aside the room where we had services when our family was at Camp David.
Sadat was impatient with the weakness of others and frequently derided some of his fellow leaders in the Middle East, but at least he respected Begin’s strength and courage. Nevertheless, Sadat also seemed somewhat impatient with Begin, distrustful of him. Determined to succeed, he was therefore inclined to form a partnership with me in opposition to Begin. His first preference was obviously a settlement; his second, an agreement with me that would be so good for Israel that Begin would be condemned if he rejected it.
About 2:30 p.m., Rosalynn and I walked up to the helicopter landing pad to welcome Sadat. When he and I sat on the terrace behind my cabin, Aspen, he did not waste any time. He emphasized that he was eager to conclude a total settlement of the issues, and not merely establish procedures for future negotiations. He was convinced that Begin did not want an agreement and would try to delay progress as much as possible. Sadat stated that he would back me in all things and that he had a comprehensive settlement plan “here in my pocket” He was prepared to be flexible on all issues except two: land and sovereignty.
He concurred with me that if Begin would negotiate in good faith, the agreement should include the establishment of diplomatic relations and the end of the economic boycott against Israel. He said that all Israelis must leave Egyptian territory and that any agreement had to provide for the Palestinians, for the West Bank and for future agreements between Israel and her other neighbors. The details could be worked out by me.
Then he stood up to leave. Sadat had suffered a mild heart attack a few years earlier and was careful about his health. He wanted to go to bed and to meet with me the next morning. I said I would delay suggesting my own proposals until he and Begin had a chance to explore their differences. Sadat replied, “I will try to protect you by putting forward good proposals, and make it unnecessary for any U.S. proposals to be offered.”
Two hours later, Begin landed on the mountaintop. I was pleased that his wife Aliza was scheduled to arrive in a few hours. The Begins always seemed very close, and I was sure Aliza would be as helpful to him during the coming days as Rosalynn would be to me.
At Aspen, Begin and I were both somewhat ill at ease. I had wanted to generate an atmosphere of informality, but in his attitude and words, Begin approached the initiation of talks in a very thorough and methodical way. He was concerned about the daily schedule, the procedures to be followed, the time and place of meetings, how a record would be kept, how many aides would be permitted on each side and so forth.
Begin too seemed to look on himself as a man of destiny, cast in a biblical role as one charged with the future of God’s chosen people. A student of the Bible, he preferred to use biblical names for places and referred frequently to God’s messages to Moses and other leaders of the Jews. A man of deep beliefs, he had during his entire adult life demonstrated his dedication to the establishment and preservation of his country, and I knew he deserved the respect he received from his associates. I also knew that his preoccupation with language, names and terms could severely impede free-flowing talk. Begin pointed out that there had not been an agreement between a Jewish nation and Egypt for more than 2,000 years, and that our meeting was historically unprecedented. However, unlike Sadat, Begin was planning for an agreement at Camp David only on general principles, which might then serve as a basis for future meetings, where the specific differences could be resolved by the ministers of foreign affairs and defense. I objected strongly and told him that we three principals could not expect others to settle major issues later if we could not do so now, and that we should address all the controversial questions directly. As he was preparing to leave after our stilted and somewhat superficial discussion, I told him that Sadat had expressed a concern about Begin’s preoccupation with details at the expense of the major issues. Begin looked up and said, “I can handle both.”
Our differences were obvious, even in personal habits. Begin was the soul of propriety. He preferred to wear a tie and coat and strictly observed protocol, always reminding Sadat and me that he was not a head of state and therefore did not rank as an equal with us. When I wanted to see him, he insisted that he come to my cottage and not the other way around. He stayed up late, worked very hard, kept close to his aides and advisers, and walked to the dining area at Laurel Lodge to eat with all the other Israelis and with most of the Egyptians and Americans. Sadat wore immaculate sports clothes, usually without a tie. He stayed in his cabin more than the rest of us, observed the greatest possible self-discipline in exercise, rest and diet, and took a four-kilometer walk early each morning. He never ate at Laurel with the others, but preferred to dine in privacy. When I wanted to talk to him on the spur of the moment, I would call first and then go to his cottage. I dressed informally, and whenever possible I ran, swam, rode a bicycle or played tennis to get much needed exercise. Between meetings, I spent a lot of time keeping notes of negotiations.
After supper that first night, Begin and I met alone in my cabin. We always used a tiny private office down the hall from the main living room. It hardly seemed suitable for such important talks, but its seclusion, easy access from the cottages occupied by Begin and Sadat, and good view looking south down the mountainside made it seem right. I told Begin that I reserved the right, and had the duty, to put forward compromise proposals, and might on occasion merely adopt either side’s position if I believed it to be best. I assured him that I would not give to Sadat or to him any official U.S. proposals without discussing the unofficial drafts first with both sides. Begin insisted repeatedly that the Israelis see any American proposal before it was presented to Sadat. I spelled out to Begin the advantages of a good rapport between him and Sadat. Yet for the last ten days of negotiation, the two never spoke, although their cottages were only about 100 yards apart.
This first evening I was determined to accentuate the positive. I emphasized our awareness that Israel’s security was paramount and that Begin’s team could not be satisfied with hazy guarantees on this crucial issue. I also told Begin that his self-government proposal for the Palestinians was bold and gratifying, and that his willingness to recognize Egyptian sovereignty over the entire Sinai was constructive.
Begin interjected that on the security issue, the Egyptians had taken just the opposite view. This was the most crucial point for the Israelis. If they were to withdraw from the West Bank or allow the Arabs there to have enhanced political status, they wanted to be certain that no successful military attack could be launched against them. With total withdrawal from the West Bank, their security problems would be very serious.
Begin then outlined his previous position on the Sinai, emphasizing his most disturbing point, that the Israeli settlements on Egyptian soil were a necessary buffer between Gaza and Egypt. He next addressed the issue of a separate agreement with Egypt, to the exclusion of the Palestinians, Jordanians and Syrians. Begin believed that an agreement on the Sinai might come first, with a later accord on “Judea and Samaria.” (Begin always referred to the West Bank by the biblical names, I assume to engender the notion that this was the promised land that God himself had given the Jews.) He was not asking for such a procedure now, he said, because it might embarrass Egypt if its leader did not appear to represent the interests of Arabs who were not present. He realized how strongly Sadat would object to any agreement implying that Egypt had acted only for its own benefit. It was encouraging to me that Begin acknowledged the Egyptian concerns.
The Prime Minister believed the Sinai should be demilitarized but that the three airfields the Israelis had built there should be kept by them for three to five years; afterward, one or perhaps two could be for civilian purposes, with Egypt in control but Israel retaining the right to use them. Turning one airfield into a U.S. airbase would be perfectly all right.
We had anticipated this, and I responded that we did not desire any military bases in the heart of the Middle East but that if it was necessary for peace, we would consider such an idea. Begin proposed that sovereignty over the West Bank-Gaza area be left open, and reiterated that some Israeli military forces would have to be kept there. He was convinced that if Israel pulled out completely, the P.L.O. terrorists would take over within 24 hours. But he stated emphatically that he was willing for the West Bank Palestinians to have autonomy: Begin always said “full autonomy.” (We were to spend several hours one evening seeking a common understanding of what “autonomy” meant—unsuccessfully.)
We then addressed the really tough issues. I told Begin that Sadat would never yield on leaving Israeli settlements anywhere in the Sinai. For him, complete sovereignty meant a total absence of Israeli dwellers. Begin did not respond, but it was my impression that he thought I was mistaken about this, that with other Israeli concessions, Sadat might change his mind.
Another serious difference was the phrase from United Nations Resolution 242, “inadmissibility of the acquisition of territory by war.” The Arabs would all insist that Israel acknowledge the applicability of this principle in any treaties signed, because it would recognize that lands occupied by Israel after the Six-Day War had not legally changed hands. Begin understood this well and said that the principle was good, but he would agree only if the word “belligerent” was inserted before the word “war” [to distinguish between wars of aggression and pre-emptive strikes for defensive purposes]. He said Israel had been attacked by its Arab neighbors and therefore had a right to occupy lands taken in its own defense.
We then discussed the equally serious problem of the Palestinians: how they should govern themselves after the Israeli military government was terminated, how many would be permitted to return to their homeland, and the status of Israeli settlements in the West Bank and Gaza. There were sharp differences on these points, the most important of all for the Arabs. Israeli security and Palestinian rights were the two crucial demands that would be so hard to reconcile.
Begin was not willing to admit that all the provisions of Resolution 242 applied to the West Bank and Gaza, or that the questions of the Sinai settlements and airstrips would have to be resolved before a peace treaty could be signed. I demurred, but did not spend much time arguing this first night.
Begin had repeatedly promised full autonomy for the West Bank Palestinians, and I pushed him on how much freedom they would have. He replied that the only powers they would not be able to exercise would be those relating to immigration of Palestinian refugees and the security of Israel. This sounded good, but later the Israelis would seek a veto over almost anything of substance the Palestinians could decide, even claiming that road construction and water supplies affect the security of Israel.
Day 2: My heart sank
WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 6.
Sadat preferred not to begin his official day before 10 a.m., after he had completed his exercise. He was always punctual, calm and self-assured; he was brief and to the point in discussions. He tried not to tell others anything he thought they already knew. Rarely dwelling on details or semamtics, he spelled out his positions in broad terms with emphasis on the strategic implications of decisions.
When he arrived at my cottage, I first gave him a brief report of my meeting with Begin. It was very important, we agreed, not to put Begin on the defensive at this early stage but to let him spell out Israel’s position for the record.
Sadat responded that the Prime Minister was a very formal man, difficult to approach or to understand. He believed Begin was bitter, inclined to look back into ancient history rather than to deal with the present and the future. He promised to go to extremes in being flexible, in order to uncover the full meaning of Begin’s positions, and stated that if our efforts should fail, then when the equitable Egyptian proposals were made known, they would bring the condemnation of the world on the Israeli leader. I pointed out that Begin was a man of integrity and honor, with very deep and long-held opinions. It was difficult for him to change. He had spent a lifetime developing, expounding and defending his ideas, even at great personal danger.
Now it was Sadat’s time to spell out Egypt’s position. He sat erect and spoke calmly, referring to a few notes. He explained that Egypt must have every inch of her land returned, with unequivocal sovereignty over it, and that other Arab nations must be treated the same. I asked how he assessed the difference between sovereignty on the Golan Heights and in the Sinai vs. the West Bank and Gaza. He said there was a great difference. There were recognized international boundaries for Sinai, all of which belonged to Egypt, and for the Golan, all of which belonged to Syria. I asked him where he ascribed sovereignty in the West Bank and Gaza, and he replied, “Sovereignty rests among the people who live there, not in either Jordan or Israel.” He would not yield any of the occupied land to Israel, at least in this early session. All of it should go back to Egypt, Syria or the Palestinians.
Unlike Begin, Sadat wanted a firm framework for a permanent peace and was eager to deal with all the specific issues while we were together. He agreed with my suggestion that, once a “framework for peace” was signed, aides could draft a peace treaty over a period of three months.
After much haggling over just what kind of agreements should even be sought at Camp David, the three principals eventually decided to try to reach accord on two separate documents. One, to be called “The Framework for the Conclusion of a Peace Treaty Between Egypt and Israel,” would deal primarily with ending the recurrent wars between the two nations, the withdrawal of Israeli forces from land in the Sinai seized in the 1973 war, recognition by Egypt of Israel’s right to exist and the status of Israeli settlements in the desert. The second, “The Framework for Peace in the Middle East,” would outline the procedure for reaching a broader agreement on the more difficult questions of the rights of Palestinians living in the West Bank and Gaza and how those disputed territories would be governed.
Sadat next handed me the opening proposal of the Egyptians. As I read it my heart sank; it was extremely harsh and filled with all the unacceptable Arab rhetoric. It blamed Israel for all previous wars and demanded that Israelis offer indemnities for use of the occupied land, pay for all the oil they had pumped out of Egyptian wells, permit refugees free entry to the West Bank, withdraw their forces to the original pre-1967 boundaries, allow the Palestinians to form their own nation and relinquish control over East Jerusalem. When I had finished reading, Sadat said he would like to offer me some modifications which could later be adopted as acceptable to him. He cautioned me not to reveal these to anyone, because it would destroy his negotiating strength if his final positions were to be placed on the table this early.
Sadat had studied the points I had been making the past few months, he said, and found them reasonable. He recalled the first time we had met, and his conviction then that some of my dreams would never be realized in his lifetime. Now he was prepared to make those dreams come true, because the people of the two countries and most of the world wanted peace.
Typically, Sadat drew the conversation to a close with a strategic analysis of the situation in Saudi Arabia, Iran, Afghanistan, Sudan and South and North Yemen. He seemed especially worried about the vulnerability of Saudi Arabia, adding that if a real threat ever developed there, he would be willing to help. He had told Crown Prince Fahd, “Your borders are my borders.” In spite of the Saudis’ public criticism of his peace initiative, he was still willing to uphold this commitment.
Sadat wanted a strong initial proposal on the record, to appease his fellow Egyptians and the Arab world, but he would be willing to make major concessions (within carefully prescribed limits) so that his final proposal would prove to everyone the reasonableness of his approach.
While at Camp David, Sadat wanted to make Egypt’s decisions himself, did not like to have aides present when he was with me and seemed somewhat uncomfortable when they were around. Sadat spent little time with his staff. In contrast, Begin relied very heavily on his aides. I was soon to be thankful that each man had developed his own style, because in Sadat’s case the leader was much more forthcoming than his chief advisers, and in Begin’s case the advisers were more inclined to work out difficult problems than was their leader.
Begin came first to the afternoon meeting. I told him quickly that Sadat would present a very aggressive proposal and cautioned him not to overreact. Sadat soon arrived. I decided to play a minimal role during these first sessions so that the other two could become better acquainted. I knew what they had to say. I could have recited some of the pertinent passages in my sleep.
Begin said that many differences were not yet resolved, and that the basic disagreements were so broad as to require a few months of negotiation by technicians working full time five days a week. I then asked Sadat to respond. He said there was already a fundamental difference of opinion, even in these preliminary comments, about what we were to accomplish at Camp David. He stated that his peace initiative to Jerusalem had brought forth a new era. The era of war was coming to an end, he said. Sadat reiterated what he and I had agreed, that we must produce a comprehensive framework for peace, not avoiding any of the controversial issues, and then allow three months of drafting time merely to put our agreement into final form. This would comprise the permanent treaty of peace.
Sadat was strangely ill at ease, uncharacteristically fumbling for words and repeating himself several times. Begin waited very patiently until he got through, then said that when the Catholics choose a new Pope, they say, “Habemus Papam ” (We have a Pope). He wanted us to be able to announce, “Habemus pacem ” (We have peace). This was the last time I remember him waiting patiently for someone else to finish speaking.
Begin wanted to deal with the Sinai, keep the West Bank and avoid the Palestinian issue. Sadat was determined to address all three. I sided with Sadat, of course, and stated that the principals must address all the controversial issues. The U.S. would reserve the right to put forward its own ideas on an equal basis with the other two, because there might be times when either of them might accept, albeit reluctantly, a proposal from me that they would be unwilling to accept from each other. Begin said these concepts were all right with him.
I asked Sadat, “Are you willing to act in the administration of the West Bank and to conclude an Arab-Israeli treaty if Jordan is not willing to participate?” He replied, “Yes, we are.” I then asked if he was willing to negotiate a Sinai agreement at the same time that a West Bank-Palestinian treaty was being concluded, and he said yes but added, “I will not sign a Sinai agreement before an agreement is also reached on the West Bank.” Sadat was to prove adamant on this.
He then began to read his tough and unacceptable proposal, after requesting that Begin not respond until he had discussed it with his aides. When Begin agreed, both seemed relieved.
During the reading of the paper, Begin sat without changing expression, but I could feel the tension building. When it was over, no one spoke for a while, and I tried to break the tension by telling Begin that if he would sign the document as written, it would save all of us a lot of time. Everyone broke into laughter. Begin asked, “Would you advise me to do so?” I said no, we had better consult with our aides.
All of a sudden both men seemed happy, friendly. Begin made a nice statement about how glad he was to get the document, how hard he knew the Egyptians had worked on it and how much he appreciated the thoroughness of their preparation. Listening to it had been very interesting, he said, but reading it would be much more informative. We parted in good spirits, everyone patting each other on the back. It was the high point in feeling until the final hours, many days later.
Day 3: “Premier Begin, you want land!”
THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 7. Beginning at 8:30 a.m., I met for two hours with Begin, Foreign Minister Moshe Dayan and Defense Minister Ezer Weizman. Secretary of State Cyrus Vance and National Security Adviser Zbigniew Brzezinski were with me. We sat around a table in a small cottage named Holly. Everyone had read the Egyptian document. Begin was now excited and irate about the tone and substance of the document. “This smacks of a victorious state dictating peace to the defeated!” he said. “This document is not a proper basis for negotiations.”
I tried to calm the group without denigrating Sadat’s effort. I wanted to file Sadat’s paper and go on to more realistic options, but Begin insisted that we analyze the Egyptian proposals in detail. Sadat used “Palestinian” to mean the Arab dwellers throughout what had been Palestine under the British Mandate, many of whom were now refugees or living under Israeli occupation. Begin exclaimed, “Palestinians! This is an unacceptable reference. Jews are also Palestinians. He must mean ‘Palestinian Arabs.’ ” “Conquered territory! Gaza was also conquered by Egypt,” Begin continued. I pointed out that Egypt was not claiming sovereignty over Gaza. “Sinai settlements! There is a national consensus in Israel that the settlements must stay!” This claim was to become the most serious problem of all. Sadat was insistent that all Israelis must leave his territory. Begin was equally insistent that no Israeli settlements in the Sinai would ever be “dismantled.”
I told the Israelis that the key question was: “Are you willing to withdraw from the occupied territories and honor Palestinian rights, in exchange for adequate security assurances, including an internationally recognized peace treaty? If not, Egypt will eventually turn away from the peace process, and the full power of the Arabs, and perhaps world opinion, will be marshaled against you.”
The expanding settlements were creating doubt that the Israelis were bargaining in good faith concerning any reduction in Israeli influence on the West Bank. This was the root of Sadat’s distrust of Begin’s motives, and I admit that I shared the belief that the Israeli leader would do almost anything concerning the Sinai and other issues to protect Israel’s presence in “Judea and Samaria.” I expressed this concern as forcefully as possible. Begin was evasive. His proposal was that everyone simply live together, with the question of sovereignty to be decided later.
The arguments became sharper and more heated. I said that an Israeli commitment to withdraw was imperative, but that I was not trying to specify how much. I insisted that the interim proposal to let the Palestinians have full autonomy be as forthcoming as possible, with maximum authority for the people who lived on the West Bank and in Gaza. A continuing military occupation and deprivation of basic citizenship rights among the Arabs was unacceptable to the world and contrary to the principles that had always been such an integral part of Jewish beliefs. Begin shifted back to Sadat’s proposal and began to analyze it again in minute detail. We were wasting time.
I became angry, and almost shouted, “What do you actually want for Israel if peace is signed? How many refugees and what kind can come back? I need to know whether you need to monitor the border, what military outposts are necessary to guard your security. What else do you want? If I know the facts, then I can take them to Sadat and try to satisfy both you and him. I believe I can get from Sadat what you really need, but I just do not have your confidence.”
Weizman replied, “We wouldn’t be here if we didn’t have confidence in you.”
I repeated my point. “You are as evasive with me as with the Arabs. The time has come to throw away reticence. I believe I can get Sadat to agree to your home-rule proposal if you convince him and me that you are not planning to keep large parts of the West Bank under your permanent control.”
I accused Begin of wanting to hold on to the West Bank and said that his autonomy proposal was a subterfuge. He resented this word very much and subsequently brought it up many times. I stressed again Sadat’s courage and personal sacrifice in making the peace initiative. A demilitarized Sinai and Egypt’s signed agreement with Israel would protect Israel’s security in the world community, and even within the Arab world, after we were gone. I emphasized that in Begin the Israelis had a Prime Minister with a demonstrated willingness to give his life for Israel’s security. If we wasted this opportunity we would never have it again.
Unmoved, Begin turned again to the Sadat paper, saying that it would force the Jews to become a minority in their own country, that it smacked of the Versailles treaty and that Sadat wanted peace with an Israel that would be not only vulnerable but doomed. He would demand that Sadat withdraw the proposal. I said, “Sadat will never withdraw his proposal. Any of us should have the right to put forward anything we desire. This paper may also represent a Saudi perspective, which Sadat has to accommodate. You can be equally effective in rejecting the paper by saying it is unacceptable.”
Then the Israelis conducted a long discussion in Hebrew. This came to be a convenient way for them to speak in confidence without disrupting the meeting by withdrawing from the room. On rare occasions, it resulted in Begin’s changing his mind. This was one of those times.
Begin and I walked from Holly to Aspen, arriving at my cottage just in time to greet Sadat. I led the way to the study and sat behind the desk. They took the other two chairs, facing each other across the desk. I decided to withdraw from the discussion so Begin and Sadat could address each other directly. While they talked, I took notes, and they soon refrained from talking to me or attempting to seek my opinion.
Begin was well prepared and did not waste any time. He was brutally frank as he discussed each issue in Sadat’s paper. Sadat remained silent until Begin derided the idea of Israel’s paying reparations for use of the occupied lands. Then he interrupted, and a hot argument took place. Begin rejected the idea that his nation should pay for the Egyptian oil being pumped at that moment to Israel. Sadat was incensed. They began arguing about who had conquered whom, and I had to intercede to say that neither was claiming that the other represented a defeated nation. Sadat accused Begin of being interested primarily in the retention of occupied land. Begin retorted that 24,000 sq. mi. of territory were involved, that he was offering to return more than 90% of it to Egypt now, and merely postponing the sovereignty question on the other 2,340 sq. mi.—a figure that, I assumed at the time, was the area of the West Bank and Gaza.
It was a telling point, and Sadat decided to shift ground. He said we needed to discuss basic principles, and not get bogged down in square meters or other details. One of the principles that could not be ignored was the phrase “inadmissibility of the acquisition of territory by war.” He said this was the essence of the question. He leaned forward in his chair, pointed his finger at Begin, and exclaimed, “Premier Begin, you want land!”
Sadat reminded us that the disputed phrase came directly from Resolution 242, which all of us agreed to be the foundation of our peace efforts. He was fervent in condemning “the Israeli settlements on my land.”
All restraint was now gone. Their faces were flushed, and the niceties of diplomatic language and protocol were stripped away. Begin repeated that no Israeli leader could advocate dismantling of the Sinai settlements, and he added that other conditions would have to be met before the Sinai could be returned.
Begin had touched a raw nerve, and I thought Sadat would explode. He pounded the table, shouting that land was not negotiable, especially in the Sinai and Golan. Those borders were internationally recognized. He said that for 30 years the Israelis had desired full recognition, no Arab boycott, and security. He was giving them all of that. “Security, yes! Land, no!” he shouted.
There was no need for U.N. forces in the area, he declared; Israel and Egypt could defend themselves. He promised that there would be no restrictions on navigation in the Suez or the Strait of Tiran. A permanent end to belligerency—all this, and more. But, he said, he must terminate the discussions if Begin continued to prove that he wanted land.
Begin was calmer than Sadat. He said he had already demonstrated his good will by changing a longstanding policy of his government concerning the Sinai land between Eilat and Sharm el Sheikh. His predecessors had been determined to keep this land, and he was offering it back to Egypt, which was very difficult for him. He added that the presence of a few Israeli settlers’ homes was not an infringement on Egyptian sovereignty.
Begin conceded that Egypt was not claiming sovereignty over Gaza and added that he was not now preparing to pursue his own claims of sovereignty over the occupied land in the West Bank and Gaza. This concession did not satisfy Sadat. He maintained that neither Israel nor Jordan could claim sovereignty over the West Bank; self-determination by its residents was the only measure of sovereignty and would lead ultimately to a Palestinian state. In his opinion, such a state should not be independent or have military forces, but should be linked to Israel or Jordan. His preference was Jordan. He knew King Hussein wanted the West Bank, but he emphasized again that it belonged neither to Israel nor to Jordan.
I acted as a referee and on occasion explained what was meant when there was an obvious misinterpretation. Strangely, every so often laughter broke out. Once, for instance, one of them referred to kissing TV’s Barbara Walters and wondered if the cameras were on and what his wife might think. Another outburst of laughter came during an argument about which one of them was responsible for the hashish trade through the Sinai between Israel and Egypt. Still, we adjourned under considerable strain. Begin expressed his complete confidence in Sadat. Conspicuously, Sadat did not make a similar statement.
I did not know where to go from there. We had accomplished little except to name the difficult issues. Almost every discussion of any subject deteriorated into an unproductive argument, reopening old wounds. Under pressure, the Egyptian leader moved away from details and words and into the realm of principles and broad strategic concepts; feeling pressed, the Israeli leader invariably shifted to a discussion of minutiae or semantics, with an inclination to recapitulate ancient history or to resurrect an old argument.
These differences shaped the negotiating technique I developed in the days ahead, and eventually opened up the road to an agreement. I would draft a proposal I considered reasonable, take it to Sadat for quick approval or slight modification, and then spend hours or days working on the same point with the Israeli delegation. Sometimes, in the end, the change of a word or phrase would satisfy Begin.
I was never far from a good dictionary and a good thesaurus, and on occasion the Americans and Israelis would be clustered around one of these books, searching for acceptable synonyms. What was meant by “autonomy,” “self-rule,” “devolution,” “Palestinian people,” “authority,” “minor modifications,” “refugees,” “insure, ensure, or guarantee,” and so forth? The Egyptians were never involved in these kinds of discussions with me.
On any controversial issue, I never consulted Sadat’s aides but always went directly to their leader. It soon became obvious, however, that Dayan, Weizman or Attorney General Aharon Barak could be convinced on an issue more quickly than the Prime Minister, and they were certainly more effective in changing Begin’s mind than I ever was. More important was the bottom line: all three of us wanted peace; the people of Israel and Egypt wanted peace. Our efforts were now prominent in the eyes of the world, and we did not want to fail.
At the beginning, that Thursday afternoon meeting reflected the strain of the earlier arguments. Begin immediately went back to his desire to avoid the difficult problems. He said that regarding the Sinai issues, including settlements and airfields, we should turn the problem over to the military leaders, who could resolve the differences and report back to the heads of government for approval. Sadat quickly replied that this would be a complete waste of time. Without specific direction from the top, there would be no way that his Defense Minister could negotiate for Egypt.
Sadat stated that absolutely no military control would be permitted over Egyptian territory by Israel, the U.S. or any other nation, and that Egypt had no use for the airstrips the Israelis had built. He would prefer that they be plowed up when the Israelis withdrew. Begin then asked about whether Sadat would keep his commitment that the Strait of Tiran would be an open international waterway. Sadat replied, “Of course. I said so before, and I will keep my promise.”
Sadat launched into a long and eloquent presentation about how well the Egyptian people had responded to his peace initiative and how they were not interested in hard bargaining with Israel. He added, “They will never accept an encroachment on their land or sovereignty. When Premier Begin says he will keep the Israeli settlements in the Sinai and defend them with force, it is an absolute insult to Egypt. I have tried to provide a model of friendship and coexistence for the rest of the Arab world leaders to emulate. Instead, I have become the object of extreme insult from Israel, and scorn and condemnation from the other Arab leaders. The Israeli attitude has worked against other Arabs’ being willing to attempt peace with Israel. My initiative has come, not out of weakness, but out of strength and self-confidence. With success at Camp David, I still dream of a meeting on Mount Sinai of us three leaders, representing three nations and three religious beliefs. This is still my prayer to God!” This statement obviously came from Sadat’s heart.
Begin responded well, agreeing with the proposal for us to meet on Mount Sinai. He then reminded us that it had also taken courage to invite Sadat to Jerusalem—the commanding officer of the nation that had launched a sneak attack on Israel only five years earlier in the October War of 1973, killing thousands of Israeli troops. The hospitality with which Sadat had been received by the people of Israel showed the depth of their desire for peace, Begin said.
Now, Begin went on, it was important that the few Israeli settlers in the Sinai be accepted by the Egyptian people as no threat to them and as no encroachment on their sovereignty. There were little more than 2,000 Israelis in the 13 Sinai settlements. Removal of these settlements would not be acceptable to Israel. Sadat could, if he wished, convince his people to accept them as permanent residents. Thus, there seemed an absolute deadlock on the Sinai settlements. Sadat announced angrily that a stalemate had been reached. He saw no reason for the discussions to continue. As far as he was concerned, they were over. Sadat then ignored Begin, stood up and looked at me.
I was desperate, and quickly outlined the areas of agreement and the adverse consequences to both men if the peace effort foundered at this point. I emphasized the U.S. role in the Middle East and reminded them that a new war in this troubled region under present conditions could easily escalate into world war. I asked them to give me at least one more day to understand as best I could their positions, to devise my own compromise proposals and to present my views to both of them. I pointed out to Begin that if the only cause for his rejection of the peace effort was the Sinai settlers, I did not believe the people of his nation or the parliament, the Knesset, would agree. It was my belief that if he would get the settlers to leave Egyptian territory, he could sell this action to his people.
He disputed this, saying that there was no way he could sell a dismantling of the settlements. (He always said “dismantling,” though we pointed out to him that the buildings need not be destroyed after the Israelis left.) To move the settlers would mean the downfall of his government—an outcome he was willing to accept if he believed in the cause. But he did not believe in it.
They were moving toward the door, but I got in front of them to block the way. I urged them not to break off their talks; to give me another chance to use my influence and analysis; to have confidence in me. Begin agreed readily. I looked straight at Sadat; finally, he nodded. They left without speaking to each other.
I asked Sadat to let me meet that evening with the Egyptian delegation. I opened the discussion. “I know you are all very discouraged right now. The issue we addressed today was the Israeli settlements in the Sinai, which may be the most difficult one of all. Our position is that they are illegal and should be removed. On this, your views and ours are the same.”
Sadat replied. “That man Begin is not saying anything today that he might not have said prior to my Jerusalem initiative. I am willing to have open borders, work on other issues and bring in other Arabs. The man is obsessed. Begin haggles over every word, and is making his withdrawal conditional on keeping land. Begin is not ready for peace.”
I said, “Mr. President, Begin is a tough and honest man. In the past he has been quite hawkish. He has been quite forthcoming, compared to the leaders of Israel who preceded him. His present control over the Sinai was derived from wars that Israel did not start. That is Begin’s perspective. On the settlements, Begin sincerely wants them to continue. One of his goals is to isolate Gaza from the Sinai, with the settlements as a buffer. Since you have now promised not to let major military forces go beyond the Sinai passes to threaten Israel, there is no longer a legitimate reason for him to maintain the settlements. We do not agree with him and he knows it, but so far he persists. It is painful for him to change his position. On the airfields, the Israelis want some arrangement for transitional control, and I believe this should be worked out. I myself will try to devise an acceptable formula for the West Bank.”
Sadat said, “I am willing to give them two years to phase out the settlements.” I replied, “You must be more flexible on the exact time—two or three years.” Sadat: “Okay.”
As we prepared to adjourn, I said, “Stalemate here would just provide an opportunity for the most radical elements to take over in the Middle East. A trial period for the West Bank can work, if we agree on it. If we don’t, then Moscow and the radicals will rejoice. You must understand our special commitment to Israel, and the fact that the Israelis do want peace. They have not yet responded adequately to the Sadat peace initiative, but they have offered to leave the Sinai and to give autonomy or self-government to the West Bank Arabs, and our hope is that they will stop building settlements in the West Bank and remove them from the Sinai. We simply must find a formula that both Egypt and Israel can accept. If you give me a chance, I don’t intend to fail.”
Day 4: Gloom and foreboding
FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 8.1 was up early again that morning to work on formulations that might break the deadlock, or at least provide enough incentive to keep both teams in the camp. A sense of gloom and foreboding still prevailed. Sadat’s aides had told Brzezinski they were seriously considering leaving, convinced that Begin would never yield on the settlements.
When Begin arrived, I outlined again the areas of agreement and requested flexibility on his part. He complained that the U.S. negotiators were all agreeing with the Egyptian demand that the Sinai settlements be removed, and that this was no way for mediators to act. Then he pulled from his pocket the dog-eared copy of Sadat’s demands and began once again to delineate its unacceptable portions. I tried to convince him that this was not the final Egyptian position. Begin said he did not see how honorable men could put forward one thing publicly and a different thing privately.
He then gave another half-hour explanation of why it was imperative that the Sinai settlements be retained, pointing out that there were 400,000 people in Gaza who were highly susceptible to subversion and might prove a threat to Israel. He stated emphatically, “I will never personally recommend that the settlements in the Sinai be dismantled!” He added, “Please, Mr. President, do not make this a U.S. demand.”
I noted with great interest, but without comment, the change in his words. “Never personally recommend” did not mean that he would never permit the settlements to be removed. The change was subtle but extremely significant. If others in Israel could be made to assume the onus for the decision, then, finally, there was at least a possibility for resolving this issue.
I stated that I absolutely disagreed with him about the settlements, now that Sadat had agreed there would be no attack forces in the Sinai. Instead, there would be 130 km of demilitarized desert between Egypt and Israel. I emphasized that there were no reasons for the settlements to exist after a peace agreement, and that they would be a source of more aggravation and dissension than of peace and security.
Begin implored, “Mr. President, do not put this in a proposal to us.” I responded, “Mr. Prime Minister, we cannot avoid addressing the most contentious issues, and this is the one on which the entire Camp David talks have foundered so far. I cannot let Sadat tell me not to discuss Israeli security on the West Bank. I cannot let you tell me not to discuss the Israeli presence on Egyptian territory.”
I asked him bluntly if he objected to our producing a U.S. proposal at all. He answered that he did indeed object, that it was a bad idea. This was a belated admission of an attitude that had become apparent to us all. Begin said that any U.S. plan would become the focal point of dissension and disagreement after we adjourned from Camp David, and that there was no likelihood of its being accepted by either the Israelis or the Arabs. Those who would disagree with individual parts of the proposal would take out their displeasure on the U.S., which might turn the entire Arab world against us.
I told him I was prepared to face this; the alternative was a deterioration that might lead to a war involving the security of my own country. Political considerations—even the loss of some friendships—were not my paramount concern. I reminded him that Sadat had urged me to be a full partner and that I saw no possibility of progress if the U.S. should withdraw and leave the negotiations to the Egyptians and Israelis, who did not trust each other and often admitted an absence of even mutual respect. I noted that when Sadat had arrived at Camp David, the first analysis he had made was that Begin did not want a peace agreement and only wanted land. Begin replied, “Both of those claims are false.”
I said, “I realize that, but that is the way the Egyptians feel. This atmosphere between the two of you is not conducive to any agreement. We are going to present a comprehensive proposal for peace. It will not surprise either you or Sadat. When it is finished tomorrow, I will present it to you first, and then to the Egyptians. I can see no other possibility for progress.”
Day 5: Fatigue was taking its toll
SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 9. I spent almost the entire day working on the comprehensive proposal, consulting very closely with other members of the American team. There were more than 50 distinct issues to be resolved. I was not getting much sleep, and fatigue was taking its toll. I knew that Sadat and I could come up with a reasonable agreement that a majority of Israelis would gladly accept. My major task was to convince Begin. In a way, I understood his dilemma. He was the one who was being pressured to change the private and public commitments of a lifetime.
The only thing that would succeed was a proposal that was patently fair, that did not violate Sadat’s broad principles and that we could sell to the other Israelis. From daybreak Saturday, the entire American delegation bent to this task, and shortly after midnight the document was ready to be put into final form.
Day 6: Begin was angry, and so was I
SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 10. Late in the afternoon, we met with the Israelis. Vice President Walter Mondale, Vance, Brzezinski, Dayan, Weizman and Barak joined Begin and me. I knew this would be a crucial session.
I began by trying to assure the Israelis that the document was a balanced one. “Sadat is willing to continue negotiations toward a final peace treaty even if King Hussein is not, but Sadat received a message today from Hussein saying he would be willing to join the agreement if he finds it acceptable. In any case, it is important to remember that an agreement between Israel and Egypt would preclude any successful attack against your country by other Arab countries. Without Egypt, they could not successfully challenge you. This document will be given tonight to Sadat. I hope you will be flexible and minimize any proposed changes.”
After everybody had read the document, Begin said, “Sadat’s original proposal and this one may decide the future of the people of Israel. There are positive elements in it; there are also some that could cause grave peril to our people.” I pressed forward hurriedly. “This document avoids the difficult issue of total withdrawal from the West Bank, it gives you guaranteed access to the Strait of Tiran and through the Suez, freedom of movement of people across the borders, an undivided Jerusalem, an end to the boycott on trade and commerce, and a guarantee against the deployment of any Egyptian attack forces in the Sinai beyond the Mitla and Giddi passes. There are some more things I want for Israel, and may be able to get, including full diplomatic recognition and the exchange of ambassadors between you and Egypt.”
We then had a heated discussion about the language in Resolution 242—”inadmissibility of the acquisition of territory by war.” Begin insisted again that this formulation was unacceptable. He was angry, and so was I. I replied, “Do you reject Resolution 242? Your definition of its meaning is biased. To delete it would mean that we have no basis for negotiation. What you say convinces me that Sadat was right—what you want is land!” Begin retorted, “The problem of security also involves territory. We are willing to return Sinai; for the time being we are conceding our legitimate claims of sovereignty over Judea, Samaria and Gaza.”
The same Americans and Israelis met again in the evening. We sat down at 9:35 p.m. We were still arguing at 3 a.m.
Begin said, “Parts of the document are deeply appreciated and positive—a beautiful number [paragraph] on Jerusalem. We appreciate your efforts, but we have a proposal for some changes.” Barak began, paragraph by paragraph. The first proposals were to delete all references to Resolution 242.
I interrupted. “This is not the time to beat around the bush, If you had openly disavowed Resolution 242 I would not have invited you to Camp David or called this meeting. Israel has repeatedly endorsed 242, but now you are not willing to respect the language. If you don’t espouse 242, it is a terrible blow to peace.”
A serious problem developed when we got to the part about autonomy for the Palestinians (or “full autonomy,” to use Begin’s phrase). As the Israelis proposed alternative language, it became clear that they did not want to give West Bank and Gaza residents any appreciable control over their own affairs.
I declared, “What you want to do is make the West Bank part of Israel.” Vance added, “The whole idea is to let the people govern themselves. You are retaining a veto!” Begin responded, “We want to keep the right to do so—but we don’t intend to do so.” I said, “No self-respecting Arab would accept this. It looks like a subterfuge. We are talking about full autonomy—self-control. You are not giving them autonomy if you have to approve their laws, exercise a veto over their decisions and maintain a military governor. If I were an Arab, I would prefer the present Israeli occupation to this proposal.”
We finally adjourned, and I asked Dayan to walk with me to my cottage. He was competent and levelheaded. I felt that if either he or Weizman were heading the delegation, we would already have reached agreement (although it was Begin’s proposal on the Sinai that had helped to bring us to Camp David).
I told Dayan that I considered Begin to be unreasonable and an obstacle to progress, and was beginning to have doubts about his genuine commitment to an agreement and a peace treaty. I outlined the moves Sadat had made to be forthcoming, and his private assurances to me concerning additional flexibility—provided a few crucial points were honored. I asked Dayan to help me within the Israeli delegation on these few issues. Dayan understood my problem but was convinced that Begin did want an agreement. He said that the issue of the settlements was the most difficult for Begin. He asked me to try to induce Sadat to let the title to the Sinai settlements be transferred to Egypt but allow the Israelis to continue to live there for a limited time, just as they would be permitted to live in Cairo or Alexandria. I promised to bring this matter up with Sadat, but did not think there was any chance for success; he would consider it a violation of Egyptian sovereignty.
Daybreak was approaching, but it was still dark as Dayan turned to leave. He had difficulty seeing the trees between him and the path, and when he walked into one of them, I was reminded of how seriously his eyesight was impaired. My heart went out to him.
Day 7: Jerusalem was the no-win issue
MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 11. Though I got up early to incorporate into our proposal the Israeli changes with which we agreed, a final typed version was not ready when Sadat arrived, alone, at Aspen. We discussed the Sinai negotiations while we waited. Sadat was not willing to let any of the [Israeli] airfields remain on his land, and he immediately rejected the idea of Egyptian title to the Sinai settlements while Israelis continued to live in them.
When I asked him if he would permit Jews from any nation, including Israel, to live in Cairo or in Aswan, he replied, “Of course.” I pointed out to him that in that case it was not logical to exclude them from the Sinai settlements. Sadat said, “Some things in the Middle East are not logical or reasonable. For Egypt, this is one of them.” He was firm—they would have to leave. He wanted the withdrawal of all Israelis from the Sinai to be completed within two years. I preferred three, to accommodate Israeli needs, and he agreed.
The retyped proposal arrived, and Sadat read it aloud, pausing occasionally to comment or to suggest a change. One came as a surprise; he made a new demand that Egyptian and Jordanian armed forces be allowed in the West Bank and Gaza. I objected strongly. Then we discussed Jerusalem, which everyone at Camp David recognized as the no-win issue. It was charged with emotion. Begin knew he represented Jews all over the world, and Sadat knew that in a way he was speaking for more than 500 million Muslims. I tried to convince Sadat that he would be better off not trying to solve this problem at Camp David. No matter what kind of compromise might emerge, he would be severely criticized by radicals of all persuasions; he should let King Hussein and others share the responsibility for any agreement concerning the Holy City. He did not comment.
Sadat said that he and his advisers would go over the paper in detail. I was pleased. Except for the very serious question of Arab armed forces in the occupied territories, the changes he had suggested were quite modest. However, we were certain that his advisers would have many technical proposals. Vance told me that they had a reputation of being the most contentious of all Arabs in international negotiations.
Day 8: “I will not sign”
TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 12. Early that morning, I went for a long bicycle ride, and as I returned to my cottage, I observed a heated discussion between the Egyptian President and his principal advisers on his front porch. This was most unusual, and worried me. Sadat arrived for our visit five minutes late. He seemed very troubled. I made a few innocuous remarks, but he did not appear to be listening. I immediately felt that he had come to tell me the Camp David negotiations were over.
It was apparent, he said, that Israel was not going to negotiate in good faith and had no intention of signing an agreement. As we of the U.S. struggled to deal with Israeli demands in quest of the elusive peace settlement, we were putting forward proposals that would alienate the Arab world. Such an outcome would also drive a wedge between Egypt and the U.S., in spite of his and my best efforts.
He seemed especially worried about the Saudi reaction, and I promised to invite Crown Prince Fahd to Washington to go over our agreement with him. This assurance only partially alleviated his concern. I reminded him that he had already crossed the bridge of Arab condemnation when he had gone to Jerusalem. I said that this had been one of the bravest acts of a political leader in my lifetime. My comments seemed effective, and Sadat soon departed, still very troubled but without having delivered to me the fatal message of failure and departure.
I worked that afternoon on the terms for an Egyptian-Israeli treaty, and spread the Sinai maps out on the dining table to begin this task, writing the proposed agreement on a yellow scratch pad. Within three hours I had finished, and walked over to Sadat’s cottage to go over the draft with him. I began to read it aloud, but he reached for the pad, read it, made two changes that would make it more pleasing to Israel and handed it back. “It’s all right,” he said. Our meeting had lasted less than 20 minutes.
I ate with the Israelis in the dining hall, and during the meal Begin said he wanted to see me as soon as possible for the most serious talk we had ever had. He came to my cottage at about 8 p.m. Then he went into an impassioned speech about the use of Resolution 242 language in the text of our Camp David agreement. He said, “Israel cannot agree under any circumstances to a document which includes this phrase [“inadmissibility of acquisition of territory by war”], and I will not sign it.”
As he spent another hour talking about the settlements in the Sinai, he became very emotional. Once he mentioned Jerusalem, and quoted to me the Bible verse from Psalms, “If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning.” After that he repeatedly said, “Better my right hand should lose its cunning than I should sign such a document!”
Near the end, he pulled from his pocket a brief typed statement and read it to me. It stated that we had met at Camp David and that Israel and Egypt appreciated the invitation they had received from the U.S. As an alternative to this statement, he said, we could list the items on which there was agreement and those on which we could not agree, and issue these lists as proof of the progress we had made. He claimed that he sincerely wished he could sign my proposal, but the will of the Israeli people must be represented by him as their Prime Minister.
I pointed out that I had seen public opinion polls every two or three weeks in which a substantial majority of the Israeli people were willing to accept a peace treaty with an end to the settlements, the removal of Israeli settlers from the Sinai and the yielding of substantial portions of the West Bank. I was distressed by his attitude and, perhaps ill-advisedly, said that my position represented the Israeli people better than his.
It was a heated discussion, unpleasant and repetitive. I stood up for him to leave, and accused him of being willing to give up peace with his only formidable enemy, free trade and diplomatic recognition from Egypt, unimpeded access to international waterways, Arab acceptance of an undivided Jerusalem, permanent security for Israel and the approbation of the world—all just to keep a few illegal settlers on Egyptian land.
Day 9: Never again a divided city
WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 13. I decided to concentrate on a new framework draft and to work directly with Aharon Barak and Egyptian Under Secretary for Foreign Affairs Osama elBaz. Barak seemed to have Begin’s trust, and elBaz, the most militant of the Egyptians, could speak accurately for the Arab position. If el-Baz agreed to something, the other Egyptian aides would go along, and I could always override him, if necessary, by going directly to Sadat. At the same time, I could depend on Barak to influence Begin. Both Barak and el-Baz were brilliant draftsmen, fluent in English, and they understood the nuances of the difficult phrases with which we had to work. Vance stayed with me during these long sessions, and the four of us made painstaking but steady progress on the main document.
Many of the suggestions Vance and I had expected to be opposed were accepted immediately by Barak and elBaz, and few of these were ever again questioned by their superiors. We did a lot of work on the Jerusalem paragraph. It referred to Jerusalem as the city of peace, holy to Judaism, Christianity and Islam, and stated that all persons would have free access to it, free exercise of worship and the right to visit and travel to the holy places without distinction or discrimination. We agreed that Jerusalem would never again be a divided city, that the holy places of each faith should be under the administration and full authority of their representatives, that a municipal council drawn from the inhabitants should supervise essential functions in the city, and so forth. Both Begin and Sadat approved the text [of the paragraph].
Some differences could not be resolved. Barak refused to discuss the Israeli settlements at all, saying that it was a subject only Begin could address. El-Baz, backed by Sadat, refused to include a commitment to open borders and full diplomatic recognition. I went to bed late, tired but pleased. Sadat was staying, the Israelis were being more helpful, and we had a good new plan for a Sinai agreement leading to a peace treaty. But I could not sleep. This is a rare problem for me; even during times of deep worry, I have little trouble sleeping well. I was worrying about Sadat and whether he was safe. We were dealing with some extremely emotional subjects for the Arabs, and it was obvious that some of his more militant advisers were deeply committed to the goals of the P.L.O. and other radical groups. Sadat was making decisions with which they strongly disagreed.
I could not forget the heated discussion I had observed on Sadat’s porch. I remembered that earlier in the night Sadat’s views on whether Israel could make decisions on Palestinian refugees coming into the West Bank had been directly misrepresented by one of his key advisers. The adviser professed to speak for Egypt, but had not even discussed the issue with his President, and I recalled that earlier that evening when I had wanted to see Sadat, his aides told me that he had retired early and could not be disturbed. In the middle of the night, about 4 a.m., I got up, talked to the Secret Service agents and to Brzezinski, and directed that security around Sadat’s cottage be strengthened and kept alert. Later, my concerns seemed groundless, but at the same time, I was greatly relieved to see Sadat in good shape the next day!
Day 10: This impasse would be the end
THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 14. Dayan and Weizman came by, and soon it all boiled down to the settlements. In desperation I promised to draft language allowing this issue to be left open for future resolution, without preconditions, for at least three months. Thus the question might be finessed with Sadat. No luck. When I showed my new draft to Sadat, he stated that there were preconditions, one being the airfields, the other the settlements, and that he would negotiate on when they would be withdrawn, not if.
This impasse would be the end of our effort for peace. I could not think of any way to resolve this fundamental difference. We began to make plans to terminate the negotiations. That evening I began to list the differences between the two nations, and was heartbroken to see how relatively insignificant they really were, compared to the great advantages of peace. I sat on the back terrace late into the night, but could think of no way to make further progress. My only decision was that all of us should work to leave Camp David in as positive a mood as possible, taking credit for what we had done, and I resolved to continue our common search for an elusive accord.
Day 11: “Sadat is leaving”
FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 15. I called the U.S. delegation to Aspen, and we discussed how to deal with our failure. I would spend the day getting proposals from Sadat and Begin, so that I could summarize the differences and prepare the final document on Saturday. On Sunday we would adjourn and issue a joint communiqué.
Vance burst in. His face was white, and he announced, “Sadat is leaving. He and his aides are already packed. He asked me to order him a helicopter!”
It was a terrible moment. Now, even my hopes for a harmonious departure were gone. I sat quietly and assessed the significance of this development—a rupture between Sadat and me, and its consequences for my country and for the Middle East power balance. I envisioned the ultimate alliance of most of the Arab nations to the Soviet Union, perhaps joined by Egypt after a few months. I told Vance that the best thing for us to do now would be to refuse to sign any document, just to terminate the talks and announce that we had all done our best and failed.
I remained alone in the little study where most of the negotiations had taken place. I looked out to the Catoctin Mountains and prayed fervently that somehow we could find peace. Then I changed into more formal clothes before going to see Sadat. He was on his porch with five or six of his ministers. Vance and Defense Secretary Harold Brown were there to tell them goodbye.
I nodded to them and walked into the cabin. Sadat followed. I explained the extremely serious consequences of his unilaterally breaking off the negotiations: that his action would harm the relationship between Egypt and the U.S.; that he would be violating his personal promise to me; that the onus for failure would be on him. He was adamant, but I was dead serious, and he knew it. I had never been more serious in my life. I repeated some of the arguments. He would be publicly repudiating some of his own commitments, damaging his reputation as the world’s foremost peacemaker and admitting the fruitlessness of his celebrated visit to Jerusalem. His worst enemies in the Arab world would be proven right in their claims that he had made a foolish mistake. I told Sadat that he simply had to stick with me for another day or two, after which, if circumstances did not improve, all of us simultaneously would take the action he was now planning.
He explained the reason for his decision to leave: Dayan had told him the Israelis would not sign any agreements. This made Sadat furious. He had accused Dayan of wasting our time by coming to Camp David in the first place. His own advisers had pointed out the danger in his signing an agreement with the U.S. alone [on the basic principles on which a Middle East peace should be based]. Later, if direct discussions were ever resumed with the Israelis, they could say, “The Egyptians have already agreed to all these points. Now we will use what they have signed as the original basis for all future negotiations.”
It was a telling argument. I told him that we would have a complete understanding that if any nation rejected any part of the agreements, none of the proposals would stay in effect. Sadat stood silently for a long time. Then he looked at me and said, “If you give me this statement, I will stick with you to the end.”
Those were sweet words to hear. I went back to Aspen and told Rosalynn, Fritz, Cy, Harold and Zbig that everything was all right. I described my conversation with Sadat, and we went back to work. It had been a bad time.
Day 12: Breakthrough!
SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 16. When Sadat and el-Baz came to meet with me and Cy in the afternoon, we reviewed the Sinai proposal and found no significant disagreement except over the Israeli settlements—and no disagreement at all between myself and Sadat.
On the comprehensive framework, we were also very close. In referring to the Palestinians’ authority on the West Bank, I agreed to find a synonym for “self-government for the Palestinians.” (Sadat thought it sounded too much like Begin’s “self-rule,” and eventually I came up with “how the Palestinians shall govern themselves.”) With great pressure I induced him to accept the language we had evolved on Jerusalem, provided there would be an exchange of letters reconfirming the historic U.S. position that East Jerusalem was part of the West Bank. Sadat agreed that the Wailing Wall should always be retained exclusively by the Jews.
Begin came with Dayan and Barak, for which we were thankful. If anyone at Camp David had influence on Begin, it was these two men. Begin began talking about the blessed settlements, but I insisted that we go through both documents in an orderly fashion, paragraph by paragraph. I wanted the Israelis to realize how few differences remained. In an hour we were finished with the Sinai document, and it was obvious to me that Sadat would be willing to accept almost all the Israeli demands for change. The few others were not very important to Begin, and I felt sure that he would not insist on them.
We then moved to the settlements again, and Begin insisted that he would negotiate with Sadat on all other items for three months in search of a final peace treaty. If this effort was completely successful, he would submit the settlement withdrawal question to the Knesset. I told him again and again that his proposal was totally unacceptable to Sadat, who insisted on a commitment to remove all Israeli settlers from his territory before any other negotiations could be conducted.
I thought the discussion would never end. Begin was shouting words like “ultimatum,” “excessive demands” and “political suicide.” However, he finally promised to submit to the Knesset within two weeks the question: “If agreement is reached on all other Sinai issues, will the settlers be withdrawn?”
I believed this would be enough for Sadat. Breakthrough!
We then had a surprisingly amicable discussion about the framework for peace. On Jerusalem, I told the Israelis that Sadat wanted a separate exchange of letters so that each nation could make public its own different ideas. On the West Bank settlements, we worked out language that no new Israeli settlements would be established after the signing of this framework and that the issue of additional settlements would be resolved during the negotiations. Begin later denied that he had agreed to this, and claimed that he had promised to stop building settlements only for a three-month period. My notes are clear—the settlement freeze would continue until all negotiations were completed.
Day 13: A thumbs-up sign
SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 17. I was eager to meet with Sadat, and he and I quickly went over the proposals for the final language. The few predictable changes that he advocated would, I was sure, be acceptable to the Israelis. The only serious problem was his desire to delete the entire paragraph on Jerusalem. I knew that the Israelis wanted the same thing, but I did not tell Sadat. I reserved this concession in case I needed bargaining points later.
When it became apparent that the Jerusalem paragraph remained a potential obstacle to any agreement at all, the three negotiators decided to delete it. Instead, all three were to outline their separate views on the status of Jerusalem in letters that would become part of the official record.
A serious problem erupted with the Israelis. Vance had just shown them a copy of our draft letter that would go to Sadat, restating the U.S. position on Jerusalem, which had been spelled out officially in U.N. debates over the years. There was an absolute furor, and Begin announced that Israel would not sign any document if we wrote any letter to Egypt about Jerusalem.
Hamilton Jordan, my assistant, called to tell me that the Israeli objections to a Jerusalem letter were extremely serious; the Israelis were determined to sign no agreement at all. Vance confirmed this and explained that none of the Israelis had understood that we were going to write a letter “criticizing Israel for occupying eastern Jerusalem,” even after we had explained the letter exchange last night. I asked Barak to walk with me to Aspen to go over our proposed letter, to find language that might be acceptable. He was as adamant as the other Israelis, insisting that the situation was hopeless.
Earlier, my secretary, Susan Clough, had brought me some photographs of Begin, Sadat and me. They had already been signed by Sadat, and Begin had requested that I autograph them for his grandchildren. Knowing the trouble we were in with the Israelis, Susan suggested that she go and get the names of the grandchildren, so that I could personalize each picture. I did this, and walked over to Begin’s cabin with them. He was sitting on the front porch, very distraught and nervous because the talks had finally broken down at the last minute.
I handed him the photographs. He looked down and saw that his granddaughter’s name was on the top one. He spoke it aloud, then looked at each photograph, repeating the name of each grandchild. His lips trembled, and tears welled up in his eyes. He told me a little about each child and especially about the one who seemed to be his favorite. We were both emotional as we talked quietly for a few minutes about grandchildren and about war.
Then he asked me to step into his cabin, requesting that everyone else leave. He was quiet, sober, surprisingly friendly. There were no histrionics. He said that the Jerusalem matter was fatal, that he was very sorry but he could not accept our letter to Egypt. I told him I had drafted a new version and submitted it to Dayan and Barak. He had not yet seen it. I suggested he read it, but that there was no way that I could go back on my commitment to Sadat to exchange letters. Any future talks might depend on his and Sadat’s assessment of my integrity, and I could not violate a promise.
I walked back to Aspen, very dejected. Sadat was there, dressed to go back to Washington. I asked everyone else to leave and told Sadat what was happening. We realized that all of us had done our best, but that prospects were dim indeed.
Then Begin called. He said, referring to the new version I had shown Dayan and Barak: “I will accept the letter you have drafted on Jerusalem.” I breathed a sigh of relief; it seemed that the last obstacle had been removed.
I looked up to see Hamilton and White House Press Secretary Jody Powell out on the terrace, anxiously peering into my window. When I gave them a thumbs-up sign, they beamed with relief. The tension was broken, and although I was exhausted, it was a pleasure to make decisions about the texts, transportation, television appearances for the three of us, a signing ceremony at the White House, packing to leave Camp David, and how to keep Begin and Sadat apart until after everything had been put into final form.
Sadat was paying a courtesy call on Begin, and later they met me in front of Aspen. We embraced enthusiastically, went to the helicopter and flew to the White House. On the way, we talked about the need for action to bring peace to Lebanon, and Begin promised to help us by giving his full support to the government in Beirut and doing everything possible to minimize bloodshed.
We arrived at the White House at about 10:15 p.m. and went directly to the East Room, where our signing of the documents and some brief remarks pre-empted the new prime-time TV shows. The Framework for Peace in the Middle East and the Framework for the Conclusion of a Peace Treaty Between Egypt and Israel were two major steps forward.
We had no idea how far we still had to go.
The distance turned out to be great indeed. Though the Knesset approved the Camp David agreement and the removal of Israeli settlements from the Sinai on Sept. 28, 1978, the detailed provisions of the treaty between Egypt and Israel still had to be drafted and approved by both nations. Begin’s insistence on starting new settlements in the West Bank, contrary to Carter’s clear understanding at Camp David, endangered the entire peace process. Begin also refused even to set a date for the start of talks to grant a degree of autonomy to inhabitants of the West Bank and Gaza. Not until Carter had called Begin once more to Washington, then visited Sadat in Cairo and Begin in Jerusalem, were these obstacles overcome. A treaty was signed by Sadat and Begin in Washington on March 26, 1979. Sadat did not live to see his country made whole again. He was assassinated on Oct. 6, 1981; Egypt did not regain full control of the Sinai until April 25, 1982, after the Israelis had bulldozed the last of their settlements to complete their withdrawal. The West Bank-Gaza autonomy talks between Egypt and Israel, which began on May 25, 1979, broke off in February 1982 under the double burden of Israeli intransigence and the refusal of any other Arab leaders to participate.
Looking back on the four years of my presidency, I realize that I spent more of my time working for possible solutions to the riddle of Middle East peace than on any other international problem. I have asked myself many times if it was worth the tremendous investment of my time and energy. The answer will depend on the wisdom and dedication of the leaders of the future. Only history will reveal if my hopes and prayers are to be answered, or if another round of bloody confrontations will ultimately lead to an international tragedy.
Oval Office Flashbacks
When Rosalynn was visiting the White House before moving in, some of our staff asked the chef and cooks if they thought that they could prepare the kind of meals that we enjoyed in the South, and a cook said, “Yes, Ma’am, we’ve been fixing that kind of food for the servants for a long time.”
Our first movie in the White House was All the President’s Men. I felt strange occupying the same living quarters and position of responsibility as Richard Nixon.
The President of India died, and I called Mama to ask her to represent me there. When she answered the phone I asked her what she was doing. She said she was sitting around the house looking for something to do, and I said, “How would you like to go to India?” She said, “I’d love to go some day.” I said, “How about this afternoon?” She said, “Okay, I’ll be ready.”
Admiral Hyman Rickover said if I would stick to principle on things like water projects and human rights, I would come out all right. He further commented, however, that I may not win re-election in 1980.
Harold Brown reported that during a meeting with Huang Zhen, head of the Washington liaison office of the People’s Republic of China, Huang was particularly critical about our having changed strategic planning from a “2½ war” capability to a “1½ war” capability. When Harold pointed out that the other war plan had been designed for use against the People’s Republic of China, the criticisms were attenuated.
I made some mistakes in dealing with Congress, and one that I still regret is weakening and compromising on legislation that first year dealing with some worthless dam projects. Signing this act was accurately interpreted as a sign of weakness on my part, and I regretted it as much as any budget decision I made as President.
On April 20,1977,1 addressed Congress on the energy crisis.
At the beginning of my speech, I stated that, because of the nature of the subject, I did not expect applause. This was one time Congress lived up to my expectations.
I received a call from some of the Senate leaders, who were closeted with Senator S.I. Hayakawa. I knew he was listening when they asked me if I needed to meet occasionally with the California semanticist to get his advice on African affairs. I gulped, thought for a few seconds and replied, “Yes, I really do!” hoping God would forgive me.
Mother had recently been to Morocco. She said she smelled all the 21 types of perfume in the palace dressing room where she stayed. King Hassan offered to give her some perfume, and she said, “No.” She laughed and said, “You damn foreigners are all alike.” He laughed also and gave her a kiss. I doubt that the King’s been called a “damn foreigner” before, and I don’t know anyone else who could get away with it.
We could not solve the problem of deliberate leaks. After Watergate, it seemed that every subordinate functionary in government wanted to be Deep Throat.
Although I was surrounded by people eager to help me, my most vivid impression of the presidency remains the loneliness in which the most difficult decisions had to be made. I prayed a lot—more than ever before in my life.
The meeting with the economists was a waste of time. They all expounded their own conflicting theories and seemed unwilling or unable to consider other views or deal in a practical way with the economic problems I was having to face every day.
I had lunch with Fritz Mondale. He thought that my comment concerning “whipping Kennedy’s ass” in the battle for the presidential nomination was illadvised. His is kind of a lonely voice. Some of my staff members said it was the best thing for morale around the White House since the Willie Nelson concert.
With the approval of most congressional leaders, at the end of March 1980 I was able to sign and send to them a balanced budget for fiscal year 1982. We congratulated each other on this rare achievement.
Jerry Falwell of the Moral Majority lied in Alaska by claiming that he met with me in the Oval Office and that I told him I had to have homosexuals on my staff because there were homosexuals in the U.S. who needed representation in my inner circle. I have never had a private meeting with him. He has never been in the Oval Office. I have never had any such conversation.
I went to Grand Rapids, Mich., and found out later that I had called it “Cedar Rapids.” When Gerald Ford went out castigating me for it, he shouted to the TV cameras that apparently I didn’t even know that Michigan was one of the 48 states.
The demands for defense expenditures comprise a bottomless pit that we can never fill. One of the most serious problems we have is the inclination on the part of our military leaders to seek more money by constantly denigrating America’s formidable military capability. This hurts our own country and our allies’ confidence in us, and might lead the Soviet rulers to make a suicidal misjudgment based on the chorus of lamentations from the Pentagon and defense contractors that we are weak and impotent.
The Superfund Legislation set up a system of insurance premiums collected from the chemical industry to clean up toxic wastes. This new program may prove to be as far-reaching and important as any accomplishment of my Administration.
Although American medical skill is among the best in the world, we have an abominable system in this country for the delivery of health care, with gross inequities toward the poor particularly the working poor—and profiteering by many hospitals and some medical doctors, who prey on the vulnerability of the ill.
After all the campaigning was over on the night before the Section, I was not surprised or shaken when Jody gave me the bad news from Pollster Pat Caddell. It hurt me deeply, but I had already accommodated the disappointment that was to come officially the following day. Even so, we did not anticipate the magnitude of our defeat. To lose all but six states and to have our party rejected and the Republicans gain a majority in the Senate were additional embarrassments for me.
Veterans Affairs Administrator Max Cleland came to tell me goodbye. He brought me a plaque with a quote from Thomas Jefferson: “I have the consolation to reflect that during the period of my Administration not a drop of the blood of a single citizen was shed by the sword of war.” This is something I shall always cherish.
The Man From Plains Sums It Up
With his book ready for publication, Jimmy Carter reviewed his presidency and its aftermath with TIME Assistant Managing Editor Ronald Kriss and Midwest Bureau Chief Christopher Ogden, who covered the Carter Administration as White House and State Department correspondent. The four-hour interview began in his wood-paneled home-town office just off the main street of Plains, Ga., and concluded on the sunny back patio of his modest brick ranch house a few blocks away. Afterward, Carter went right to work polishing up the inaugural lecture he was to present the next day as a professor at Emory University in Atlanta. Adjacent to his projected presidential library, Emory will operate the Carter Center for Public Policy, where, as he puts it, he hopes to “spend the rest of my working days.” Excerpts:
On the tragedy of Lebanon. I was shocked, disturbed and repulsed by the attacks on the Palestinians in Lebanon. The bloodshed was grossly out of proportion to any threat to Israel on the northern border.
On a Middle East settlement. It should be compatible with the Camp David accords: Israel’s withdrawal of her armed forces and military government from the West Bank and Gaza; some modifications of the 1967 borders to enhance Israel’s security; specified Israeli military outposts with demilitarization of the West Bank; a legitimate homeland there for the Palestinians, one hopes with a link to Jordan, with all prerogatives of a nation except a military force and an independent foreign policy. The Palestinians deserve full autonomy and an end to human rights violations. I would not say they have a right to an independent state, but to a political entity that is an identifiable homeland. The only logical place for it is on the West Bank.
Jerusalem should be undivided, with unimpeded access to the holy places by all worshipers. But Jerusalem is not only part of Israel, it is part of the West Bank, and its ultimate status should be determined through negotiation. If Israel were to annex the West Bank, it would be, in effect, abandoning the Camp David accords and rejecting Resolution 242 as a basis for peace. That would remove any vestige of legitimacy from the Israeli claim that they are searching for a peaceful resolution. This would probably terminate the Israeli-Egyptian Treaty, which is predicated on Israel’s honoring the basic terms of the Camp David agreement.
On Menachem Begin. He is a man of almost unshakable beliefs. He finds it very difficult to change his mind. It was torture for him to agree to remove the settlers from the Sinai. He has a single-minded commitment to annex permanently all the other occupied territories. He has a tendency to treat the Palestinians with scorn, to look down on them almost as subhumans and to rationalize his abusive attitude toward them by categorizing all Palestinians as terrorists.
I do not think Begin has any intention of ever removing the settlements from the West Bank, and that is a very serious mistake for Israel. There is no doubt Begin’s purpose all the time was to cut a separate deal with Egypt. He disavowed that intention, but all his actions, all his words, indicated that. Begin was the most recalcitrant of all the Israelis at Camp David. I almost never had a pleasant surprise in my dealings with him.
On Anwar Sadat. I would not even try to deny that I was pro-Sadat. He was completely open, courageous, generous, farsighted. He was willing to ignore details to reach an ultimate goal of peace that was beneficial to him and to Egypt. Sometimes I felt he trusted me too much.
At one point, Sadat wanted to have all the permanent members of the Security Council meet in Jerusalem with the Geneva Conference members. It was difficult to dissuade him. I could not see any way to get Mao Tse-tung, Jim Callaghan, Giscard d’Estaing, myself and Brezhnev all to come. It was already too much to get the Palestinians and Syrians to sit at the same table with the Israelis.
Sadat was completely committed to autonomy on the West Bank. I never thought he might just want the Sinai back. Not then; not now.
On Egypt’s President Hosni Mubarak. On many occasions Sadat would send Mubarak as a direct emissary to see me. Sometimes Mubarak would deliver a handwritten message in an unsealed envelope; Sadat was trying to show me he trusted him. I have never detected any inclination in Mubarak to do anything contrary to what Sadat would have done had he survived. I think Mubarak has pledged his life and honor to continue the basic Sadat policies.
On Jordan’s King Hussein. Hussein is personally courageous but an extremely timid man in political matters. That timidity derives almost inevitably from the inherent weakness of Jordan. As a nation, it is a contrivance, arbitrarily devised by a few strokes of the pen. Hussein is caught in a nutcracker, between Israel on one hand and Iraq and Syria on the other. He has little inherent national wealth, so he is dependent on the largesse of Saudi Arabia and others for weapons and economic security. He has a difficult situation governing a weak nation. But he is frustrating because he has not been courageous at times when political courage was needed.
On the Saudis. The Saudis are a force for moderation and stability. They have a real commitment to the West and to the peace process, with certain provisos concerning Palestinian rights. I was frustrated that they did not have the confidence to say publicly, “Let us support Sadat and Camp David. We approve of Jordan and the Palestinians negotiating just to see if Israel is acting in good faith.” That has not happened yet.
On the Soviet Union. The Soviets under Brezhnev will seize on every opportunity to further the Communist cause. I was not misled about their ultimate intentions.
They are uncertain of themselves; they do not have the calm self-assurance of the Chinese. They have to prove themselves over and over to be equals with our country. They are willing to make great sacrifices for military strength, which is perhaps their only strength.
I am fearful President Reagan is not sufficiently sensitive to the consequences of excessively isolating the Soviets. We need to give them hope that through negotiation and peaceful competition we can strive for accommodation. If that hope is removed, they might be induced to lash out and use their enormous military capability. It would be suicidal but it is a possibility. That is why it is so counterproductive for the President to imply that we are militarily inferior to the Soviet Union. We are not, but this claim tends to weaken the confidence of our own people, shakes the foundations of our alliances and might induce the Soviets to make a suicidal miscalculation.
On Ronald Reagan. I have seen our country suffer from the policies initiated by President Reagan in economics, in foreign policy, in some social programs. He has undone important accomplishments not only of me and other Democratic Presidents but of his Republican predecessors. Reagan and James Watt, his Interior Secretary, have tried to undo much of the progress made in environmental quality dating from Abraham Lincoln to Richard Nixon. It is grievously damaging. The budget deficits that Reagan will accumulate in four years, while claiming to be a fiscal conservative, exceed the total deficits of all the peacetime years of our history. Reaganomics was a fraud, but he is a persuasive speaker, and the American people bought it.
It is hard to think of any nation that has a closer relationship with us now than a year and a half ago, except for two or three countries ruled by right-wing regimes. Deteriorating relationships in Latin America, Asia, Europe and Africa all grieve me. But I have felt it was better for me not to be constantly criticizing Reagan, so that through experience he would modify his previous radical and erroneous positions. My reticence, I think, has been a factor in his ability to turn back to China, to espouse the Camp David accords, to honor the terms of SALT II and make other beneficial changes.
In some cases he seems to have little concern about the poor, students, the afflicted. He has oversupplied the military with funding for the kinds of weapons they have been requesting for 15 or 20 years and other Presidents have refused. Not only is it unnecessary, it is an improper allocation of priorities. The B-l bomber is a waste of money. The densepack MX missile system seems ridiculous to me. I am concerned too that the nonproliferation effort has fairly well been abandoned.
It hurt to lose to Ronald Reagan. But after the election, I tried to make the transition as smooth as possible. Later, from my experience in trying to brief him on matters of supreme importance, I was very disturbed at his lack of interest. The issues were the 15 or 20 most important subjects that I as President could possibly pass on to him. His only reaction of substance was to express admiration for the political circumstances in South Korea that let President Park close all the colleges and draft all the demonstrators. That was the only issue on which he came alive.
On relations with his successor. I made one courtesy call at the Oval Office, but my relationship with Reagan is nonexistent. I am not asking for an assignment, but I think a former President can certainly be helpful. I called on Nixon and Ford regularly to help me. We briefed them often, possibly more than they actually wanted.
What Kissinger, Ford and Nixon did in the Middle East, I built upon. What they did in China, I built upon. What they did with the SALT negotiations, I built upon. I did not reject. Under Reagan, for the first time in recent history a nonpartisan international effort was set aside. That is still disturbing to me.
It is a mistake, a sign of weakness for an incumbent to blame problems on his predecessor. After a year or so, it may be rubbing the public the wrong way.
On the press. Reagan has been treated with kid gloves. He has been given the benefit of the doubt, not only during this first year and a half, but also during the campaign, when his detrimental policies were never analyzed by the press. Reagan’s demeanor as an “aw shucks” grandfatherly type appeals to the country and the press. Some of his characteristics, such as his not being familiar with details of issues, even arouse a sense of protection in the press. There was a kind of game by the press to see if there were questions I could not answer. Part of the reason for this challenge was the aura of morality that I had wrapped around myself, and my commitment not to lie. There was a natural inclination by the press to prove this guy is not as clean and moral as he claims.
On being an “outsider.” I was not part of the Wall Street business Establishment, the Washington political Establishment or the Hollywood entertainment Establishment. I was just not part of the Establishment in any way. I was a Southern peanut farmer populist type. That was fine with me.
But I saw Rosalynn having in the White House an extraordinarily comprehensive series of public events and entertainment. Yet the press sometimes criticized her. If we had Horowitz, Baryshnikov, Beverly Sills and also had Willie Nelson, Rosalynn was stigmatized as some sort of rube who did not really understand the glarn-our of Washington. That aggravated me worse than anything.
We were alien in some ways. There were ways I could have reached out. It was not an antagonistic attitude. It is just not part of my personality. I do not condemn the cocktail circuit. It is just not natural for me to be part of it.
On politics. I like politics, but it is not all good. The tedium of repetitive public appearances, dashing madly from one community to another, receiving lines, receptions, begging for contributions—none of those things are attractive or enjoyable to me. Dealing with issues and making decisions, planning a campaign, the direct relation with voters—those elements of politics I enjoy.
On communicating. I am not a great speaker and am sometimes not at ease with large groups. I acknowledge those characteristics freely. They have been pointed out to me often enough to convince me. I can think on my feet. A poll of oldtime White House correspondents ranked me first in handling press conferences. It is hard to express effectively all sides of a complicated issue, and I tend to do that. It is much easier to take one simplistic side of an issue and express it clearly. Reagan does that very well. But there is no way in the long run to avoid the complexity of complex issues.
On Senator Edward Kennedy. No, I do not hate him. In many ways, he is a likeable person, but I do not think he is qualified to be President. Kennedy is a superb candidate for a nomination because people are intrigued with his looks, wealth, speaking ability and family name. But when you probe and ask people if they want him in the White House, his support tends to evaporate. My guess and hope is that the same thing will happen in 1984. People ask: Can the man be trusted to make difficult decisions under pressure with an undergirding of integrity?
In 1980, Kennedy seemed to think if he announced as a candidate I would withdraw. Later he could not accept the inevitability of his defeat even after it was mathematically impossible for him to get a majority of the delegates. Those excessive political attacks by Kennedy after he lost contributed a great deal to my loss. What his motivations were I have never understood. If he is the nominee in 1984? Well, I have never voted Republican.
On Vice President Walter Mondale. Fritz disagreed on a few economic decisions I made, eliminating some social programs I thought were a waste of money. These decisions hurt Fritz, but I never doubted that he was competent, intelligent and loyal to me. There is no doubt in my mind that he is plenty tough enough to be President. He is not naturally as combative as I am, but that is not a sign of weakness.
On Secretary of State Cyrus Vance. Cy is a good man and was a fine Secretary. I thought he made a mistake resigning when the Iran rescue mission failed. In my judgment, he should have said: “Mr. President, I might want to quit later. But I would like to stay two or three months to show my support for you and help tide you over this disappointment.” He did not do that. But this has never driven a wedge between us.
I have had people tell me that Cy had been so affected by his involvement in the Viet Nam War and his aversion to violence that he may have been overly cautious about the hostage rescue mission. Vance was the strongest dove. But the second strongest dove was myself.
I wanted the Secretary of State second only to me to be the spokesman for foreign policy. Vance was quite reluctant to fill that role. Sometimes I would ask Cy specifically to make a public, sometimes controversial statement. Often, I would watch the evening news to see my Secretary of State, and instead I would see his spokesman, Hodding Carter, on the screen. A lot of it was because of his modesty. He wanted to do the hard work. He is one Cabinet member who worked harder than I did.
On dealing with Congress. When I was first elected, many congressional leaders, especially in the Senate, were convinced they should have been President instead. A substantial number of Democrats had never served with a Democratic President. They looked on the incumbent President as an adversary. I had a rough row to hoe from the beginning. I also did not give the Congress any goodies to take home, nothing popular, where a Congressman could go home and say: “You ought to re-elect me because I voted for the Panama Canal Treaty or because I voted to increase oil prices by deregulation.”
There is no doubt I gave Congress too heavy an agenda—twelve or 15 important issues the first year I was in. I would have been better off in the public’s estimation as well as with Congress if I had narrowed those down to one or two. But it would not have been like me to postpone the other 13 because they were controversial. I was not the warm, backslapping political friend that some members of Congress would have preferred, but I tried to address issues on a professional basis, and they were decided on their merits.
On special-interest groups. There is no way for me to express adequately my concern about the detrimental impact of special interests in Washington. In many cases members of Congress can be induced to vote against the interests of the country—bought legitimately, with political threats on one hand and financial rewards on the other. The situation is getting worse. You have not only the financial payoffs with contributions and honorariums, but a tendency by Congress and the Administration to weaken ethics restraints. There are also those right-wing political-action committees that can spend hundreds of thousands to promote or defeat a candidate. Their scruples are sometimes nonexistent.
On the Moral Majority. I felt more bitter than I indicated in my book. I put them in the same category as Gerald L.K. Smith and others who have thrived on disharmony, divisiveness and a narrow interpretation of what Christianity is. At times, they were vicious, and there is a growing aversion to their philosophy within the Christian community. It is still a major factor. But I had a calm assurance that my relationship with God was not affected adversely by Jerry Falwell’s statements.
On Brother Billy. The issue of Billy and his work for the Libyans hurt me. Billy is exceptionally independent. He has a mind of his own. If I had told Billy, “Don’t ever talk to the Libyans any more,” he would have said, “Jimmy, you go straight to hell. I’ll talk to whom I choose. You’re not my boss.” He would then have proved to me publicly, as Menachem Begin does so well in dealing with the President, that he cannot be told what to do. Billy said the extent of my defeat could not have all been attributable to him. I agree. At the most, it may have cost me one or two percentage points.
On the Democratic Party’s future. An approach that would be successful for the Democrats would be a combination of fiscal responsibility and conservatism on one hand and an allocation of priorities to help people develop their own capabilities through education, employment and equal rights on the other. The Democrats could help themselves by unequivocally espousing environmental quality, peace, nuclear-arms control and human rights.
I do not think an ultraliberal on fiscal policy, a person who wants to reinstitute federal regulation of private industry or go back to an overemphasis on social giveaway programs, is going to win.
On other Democrats. In addition to Fritz Mondale, I like John Glenn very much. He is one Democrat along with Mondale who could carry our party to victory in 1984. Gary Hart and Reubin Askew also meet my criteria for potentially successful candidates. Any of these would have an excellent chance to win.
On history’s verdict. I will be remembered as an incumbent President who was defeated for reelection. There will always be a thought in the minds of historians that the American people made an accurate judgment. I hope people will say that one of the the reasons he was not re-elected is that he addressed difficult issues; that he did not yield to political expediency; that his basic principles were sound; and that he was effective in some of the major tasks he undertook—energy, arms control, Alaska lands, the Panama Canal, the Middle East, China relations. I hope history will deal kindly with me. But I am at peace with the knowledge I did the best I could.
Next Week
“I listened to every proposal, no matter how preposterous, including dropping an atomic bomb on Tehran,” writes Jimmy Carter of his most frustrating experience as President: trying to free the American hostages from Iran. In the concluding TIME excerpt from Keeping Faith, Carter tells of the fallen Shah’s fateful visit to the U.S., the seizure of the Americans on a day “I will never forget,” the tragic failure of the rescue mission in the desert and the 444-day ordeal that ended in freedom for the hostages. Carter also tells of those achievements for which he expects historians to give him greater credit than did the U.S. voters who rejected him in 1980: his human rights policy; the treaty yielding control of the Panama Canal; and his efforts to end U.S. dependence on foreign oil.
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