Epstein Secrets

couldn’t resist joking that I just wanted to be close to our voters. Likud supporters were about as rare in Kfar Shmaryahu as panhandlers. Along with Mishmar Hasharon, it was the only place where I'd polled over 80 percent even in my loss to Sharon. Israel had changed dramatically from the kibbutz-centered pioneer

test prospect of movement on Oslo. In October, Bibi did finally try to seize the initiative. He wrapping up the redeployment details in a summit with Arafat and Clinton and Arafat in Wye River. But as soon as he got back home, he started backtracking, rather than risk facing down his right-wing critics in

attraction in getting a deal with Syria first: it would increase our negotiating leverage with the Palestinians. That would certainly not be lost on Yasir Arafat — one reason that I realized the importance of an early meeting with him, to convey my commitment to keeping the Oslo process alive, and, if possible

o Cairo. Giora Zorea, who, like me, had come up through the unit and was one of our most experienced team leaders. And Danny Yatom. Born not far from Mishmar Hasharon, but a city boy, from Netanya, he was smart, level-headed and a sure-handed organizer, and with whom I'd somehow clicked from time he arrived in the

marshals. One in particular raised my confidence. I knew Mordechai Rachamim well from the sayeret. He was a Yemeni Jew from Elyakhin, the moshav near Mishmar Hasharon where Baddura and the other Yemeni workers lived. He was tall, strong and athletic, naturally agile and quick to respond in situations of danger. He

1967 war had turned out to be hollow words. It was time for a new generation, and a new, more direct, form of confrontation with the "Zionist enemy." Arafat had set up camp with nearly a thousand men just across the Jordan River, in a town called Karameh. From early 1968, they had been launching hit- and-

couldn't resist joking that I just wanted to be close to our voters. Likud supporters were about as rare in Kfar Shmaryahu as panhandlers. Along with Mishmar Hasharon, it was the only place where I'd polled over 80 percent even in my loss to Sharon. Israel had changed dramatically from the kibbutz-centered pioneer

test prospect of movement on Oslo. In October, Bibi did finally try to seize the initiative. He wrapping up the redeployment details in a summit with Arafat and Clinton and Arafat in Wye River. But as soon as he got back home, he started backtracking, rather than risk facing down his right-wing critics in

54 Chapter Twenty-One President Clinton and I met the next morning. My aim was to persuade him that the time had come for a make-or-break summit with Yasir Arafat. I suspected it would not be easy to convince him, and it wasn't. But I made the argument that if we were to have any hope of moving Oslo forward, we

ill, in order to secure, establish and safeguard our state. Yet even as a small child, I was keenly aware of the historic events swirling around me. Mishmar Hasharon, the hamlet north of Tel Aviv where I spent the first 17 years of my life, was one of the early kibbutzim. These collective farming settlements had t

or did I doubt that President Clinton, whom I had come to view not just as a diplomatic partner but a friend, would rise to the occasion. But as for Arafat? There was simply no way of knowing. That was why I had pressed President Clinton so hard to convene the summit. That was why, despite the misgiving

deeply, and was more determined to help us end it, than any other president before him. It was a moment of truth for the leader of the Palestinians, Yasir Arafat. The Oslo Accords of 1993, groundbreaking though they were, had created a peace process, not peace. Over the past few years, that process had been l

o Cairo. Giora Zorea, who, like me, had come up through the unit and was one of our most experienced team leaders. And Danny Yatom. Born not far from Mishmar Hasharon, but a city boy, from Netanya, he was smart, level-headed and a sure-handed organizer, and with whom I’d somehow clicked from time he arrived in the

marshals. One in particular raised my confidence. I knew Mordechai Rachamim well from the sayeret. He was a Yemeni Jew from Elyakhin, the moshav near Mishmar Hasharon where Baddura and the other Yemeni workers lived. He was tall, strong and athletic, naturally agile and quick to respond in situations of danger. He

967 war had turned out to be hollow words. It was time for a new generation, and a new, more direct, form of confrontation with the “Zionist enemy.” Arafat had set up camp with nearly a thousand men just across the Jordan River, in a town called Karameh. From early 1968, they had been launching hit- and-

ill, in order to secure, establish and safeguard our state. Yet even as a small child, I was keenly aware of the historic events swirling around me. Mishmar Hasharon, the hamlet north of Tel Aviv where I spent the first 17 years of my life, was one of the early kibbutzim. These collective farming settlements had t

or did I doubt that President Clinton, whom I had come to view not just as a diplomatic partner but a friend, would rise to the occasion. But as for Arafat? There was simply no way of knowing. That was why I had pressed President Clinton so hard to convene the summit. That was why, despite the misgiving

deeply, and was more determined to help us end it, than any other president before him. It was a moment of truth for the leader of the Palestinians, Yasir Arafat. The Oslo Accords of 1993, groundbreaking though they were, had created a peace process, not peace. Over the past few years, that process had been l