Epstein Secrets

ld War Two-vintage halftracks. Our training battalion was based, alongside the country’s main armored brigade, in a huge, hillside army camp outside Beersheva in the Negev. I knew that our fironut — basic training — would be tough. That was the whole point. But we endured a seemingly endless array of inspec

did, it had to be a step up from what lay ahead of me in the Negev. “Yeah. Sure,” I replied. I heard nothing further in the days after I got back to Beersheva. But at the end of the month, I was ordered to report to a small hut in an army base near Tel Aviv. It belonged to Maka Esser, the personnel departme

ed us. I knew the drill: the same thing had happened when I had come tantalizingly close to finalizing a peace deal with Syria’s then-dying dictator, Hafez al-Assad, a few months earlier. Yet these three dedicated men — Gili, who was by training a lawyer; Shlomo, an academic; and Danny, a former Mossad chief — ha

sed. After 316 HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_011787 / BARAK / 31 Nava and I voted, we attended an event for Labor supporters north of Tel Aviv, before flying to Beersheva to spend the final hours in the Negev. I’d arranged for Shlomo Ben-Ami to go to Kiryat Shmona in the north — emphasizing, as throughout the campaign,

effective end of the peace process. Even though Arik assured me privately that he understood my determination to reopen peace efforts with Arafat and Hafez al- Assad, I knew Arik. The path toward peace agreements, assuming they were even possible, would be tough. Sooner or later — and certainly if we fac

giously motivated ideologues, were Labor supporters. And almost no Israel, of any political stripe, 331 HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_011802 / BARAK / 46 viewed Hafez al-Assad as a natural partner for peace. For years, he’d been a constant, sneering presence on our northern border, denouncing not only Sadat but any Arab lea

ld War Two-vintage halftracks. Our training battalion was based, alongside the country’s main armored brigade, in a huge, hillside army camp outside Beersheva in the Negev. I knew that our fironut — basic training — would be tough. That was the whole point. But we endured a seemingly endless array of inspec

did, it had to be a step up from what lay ahead of me in the Negev. “Yeah. Sure,” I replied. I heard nothing further in the days after I got back to Beersheva. But at the end of the month, I was ordered to report to a small hut in an army base near Tel Aviv. It belonged to Maka Esser, the personnel departme

ed us. I knew the drill: the same thing had happened when I had come tantalizingly close to finalizing a peace deal with Syria’s then-dying dictator, Hafez al-Assad, a few months earlier. Yet these three dedicated men — Gili, who was by training a lawyer; Shlomo, an academic; and Danny, a former Mossad chief — ha

osed. After 316 HOUSE _OVERSIGHT_028164 / BARAK / 31 Nava and I voted, we attended an event for Labor supporters north of Tel Aviv, before flying to Beersheva to spend the final hours in the Negev. I'd arranged for Shlomo Ben-Ami to go to Kiryat Shmona in the north - emphasizing, as throughout the campaign,

effective end of the peace process. Even though Arik assured me privately that he understood my determination to reopen peace efforts with Arafat and Hafez al- Assad, I knew Arik. The path toward peace agreements, assuming they were even possible, would be tough. Sooner or later - and certainly if we fac

igiously motivated ideologues, were Labor supporters. And almost no Israel, of any political stripe, 331 HOUSE _OVERSIGHT_028179 / BARAK / 46 viewed Hafez al-Assad as a natural partner for peace. For years, he'd been a constant, sneering presence on our northern border, denouncing not only Sadat but any Arab lea