Epstein Secrets

me during this critical stage of Israel’s history, had guided me from the moment I became Prime Minister. In my very first discussions with President Clinton a year earlier — a long weekend, beginning at the White House and moving on to Camp David — I had mapped out at great length, in great detail, every

ut with guns and explosives — would be only a matter of time. I knew something else as well. This would be a moment of truth not just for me. Or for Bill Clinton, a man who understood our conflict more deeply, and was more determined to help us end it, than any other president before him. It was a moment of tr

Prime Minister. In my very first discussions with President Clinton a year earlier — a long weekend, beginning at the

he Jewish National Fund, supported financially by leading Jewish figures in western Europe and the US, bought 2,000 acres from an Arab landowner near Wadi Khawaret. The area was set aside for three Jewish settlements: a moshav called Kfar Haim, where the land was divided into family plots, and two kibbutzim. One

ter of wood-and-tarpaper huts amid a few orange groves and vegetable fields and chicken coops. It was just across the road from an Arab village named Wadi Khawaret, which disappeared, with the establishment of the State of Israel, when I was six years old. As Prime Minister half-a-century later, during my stubb

me during this critical stage of Israel’s history, had guided me from the moment I became Prime Minister. In my very first discussions with President Clinton a year earlier — a long weekend, beginning at the White House and moving on to Camp David — I had mapped out at great length, in great detail, every

ut with guns and explosives — would be only a matter of time. I knew something else as well. This would be a moment of truth not just for me. Or for Bill Clinton, a man who understood our conflict more deeply, and was more determined to help us end it, than any other president before him. It was a moment of tr

Prime Minister. In my very first discussions with President Clinton a year earlier — a long weekend, beginning at the

he Jewish National Fund, supported financially by leading Jewish figures in western Europe and the US, bought 2,000 acres from an Arab landowner near Wadi Khawaret. The area was set aside for three Jewish settlements: a moshav called Kfar Haim, where the land was divided into family plots, and two kibbutzim. One

ter of wood-and-tarpaper huts amid a few orange groves and vegetable fields and chicken coops. It was just across the road from an Arab village named Wadi Khawaret, which disappeared, with the establishment of the State of Israel, when I was six years old. As Prime Minister half-a-century later, during my stubb

l beyond the diplomacy of the Middle East: science, music, and our shared interest in history. What most struck Nava and me, however, was the way the Clintons interacted with each other. The scandal surrounding Monica Lewinsky was still fresh. I suppose we expected to see signs of tension. Whether they were

ing and running the election campaign. We met at Labor headquarters in Milbank Towers so Philip could show me the “war room” — modelled, in part, on Bill Clinton’s campaign operation — from which the victory had been planned and executed. It was a large, open-plan space, nothing like the warren of offices and co

to revive it, we were running against the clock. President Clinton, a key player in any hope of turning the promise

that was lost in the political storm that followed. All I’d done was answer as honestly I could. What if I had been one of the Palestinian babies in Wadi Khawaret, but with the same mind and same impulses that had defined my life as an Israeli? I assumed that instead of becoming an Israeli soldier and politicia

l beyond the diplomacy of the Middle East: science, music, and our shared interest in history. What most struck Nava and me, however, was the way the Clintons interacted with each other. The scandal surrounding Monica Lewinsky was still fresh. I suppose we expected to see signs of tension. Whether they were

ning and running the election campaign. We met at Labor headquarters in Milbank Towers so Philip could show me the "war room" - modelled, in part, on Bill Clinton's campaign operation - from which the victory had been planned and executed. It was a large, open-plan space, nothing like the warren of offices and co

to revive it, we were running against the clock. President Clinton, a key player in any hope of turning the promise

that was lost in the political storm that followed. All I'd done was answer as honestly I could. What if I had been one of the Palestinian babies in Wadi Khawaret, but with the same mind and same impulses that had defined my life as an Israeli? I assumed that instead of becoming an Israeli soldier and politicia