This article discusses a critical factor that has influenced Israel's politics, society, economy, and public discourse since this state's establishment in 1948, and particularly after the 1967 war: a highly informal but at the same time very potent “Security Network.” This Network has been critically involved in the political, social, economic, and cultural spheres, and its impact is felt in major and lesser issues. It is made up of actors who (a) are connected by informal, nonhierarchical ties; (b) share common values and perceptions regarding Israel's security and the ways to promote it; (c) have identical or similar individual and collective interests; and (d) are capable of joining hands to influence policymaking on different levels and in various spheres of the country's public life.
There are two types of actors that make up Israel's Security Network: first, prominent members of the state's large and varied defense establishment (DE)1
Israel's DE consists of the IDF; the Shin Bet or Shabak (General Security Service); the Mossad; the police and paramilitary Border Guard; the military and aircraft industries (IMI and IAI, respectively); and the atomic and biological research agencies and facilities.
Alfred Stepan defines the “political society” as “the arena in which the polity specifically arranges itself for political contestation to gain control over public power and the state apparatus.” Rethinking Military Politics (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1988), 4.
According to Stepan, the “civil society” is “arena where manifold social movements…and civic organizations from all classes…attempt to constitute themselves in an ensemble of arrangements so that they can express themselves and advance their interests.” ibid., 3–4.
Drawing on the expanding literature on “policy networks” (see later), we conceptualize the intricate informal ties between all these actors in terms of a policy network whose inherent concern is the broad realm of security—we therefore refer to it as Israel's Security Network—and explore its significant impact on policymaking in this state in recent decades. Indeed, although the Network itself is quite diverse, our emphasis here is on its common features and interests and, ultimately, on its exceptional ability to impact many aspects of public life in Israel.
The main goals of this essay are thus the following: to define Israel's Security Network and discuss its composition, size, and the myriad roles it has come to play; to explain how this Network came into being and how it managed to acquire its prominent status, and to show its relative strength in various areas and actual impact in concrete cases; and to provide a conceptual framework that would encourage additional studies on this topic both in Israel and in other countries that show similarities in this sphere.
Despite its relatively large size—a conservative estimate would put the number of the Network's active members at several hundreds per decade, reaching at least a few thousands since 1948—and considerable influence on policymaking and concrete policies in recent decades, the existence and impact of Israel's Security Network constitute an understudied aspect in the otherwise extensive literature on its politics and society. Particularly striking is its absence from recent academic debates over the country's pattern of civil–military relations, which, in turn, suggests interlinkages between Israel's Zionist and national background, its unsettled borders, its unending conflicts with its neighbors, and the peculiar type of relations that have developed between its civilian and military spheres.4
Yoram Peri, Between Battles and Ballots (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1983); Dan Horowitz and Moshe Lissak, Trouble in Utopia (Albany, N.Y.: SUNY Press, 1989); Rebecca Schiff, “Civil–Military Relations Reconsidered: Israel as an ‘Uncivil’ State,” Security Studies 1 (1992): 636–58; Baruch Kimmerling, “Patterns of Militarism in Israel,” European Journal of Sociology 34 (1993): 196–223; Uri Ben-Eliezer, “A Nation-in-Arms: State, Nation, and Militarism in Israel's First Years,” Comparative Studies in Society and History 37 (1995): 264–85; Yehuda Ben Meir, Civil–Military Relations in Israel (New York: Columbia University Press, 1995); Daniel Maman and Moshe Lissak, “Military-Civilian Elite Networks in Israel: A Case Study in Boundary Structure,” in A Restless Mind, ed. Benjamin Frankel (London: Frank Cass, 1996), 49–79; Yagil Levy, “How Militarization Drives Political Control of the Military: The Case of Israel,” Political Power and Social Theory 11 (1997): 103–33; Uri Ben-Eliezer, The Making of Israeli Militarism (Bloomington, Ind.: Indiana University Press, 1998); Martin Van Creveld, The Sword and the Olive (New York: Public Affairs, 1998); Alan Dowty, The Jewish State (Berkeley, Calif.: University of California Press, 1998); Edna Lumsky-Feder and Eyal Ben-Ari, eds., The Military and Militarism in Israeli Society (Albany, N.Y.: SUNY Press, 1999); Daniel Maman, Eyal Ben-Ari, and Zeev Rosenhek, eds., The Military, State and Society in Israel (New Brunswick, N.J.: Transaction, 2001), 403–5; Shimshon Bichler and Jonathan Nitzan, From War Profits to Peace Dividends [in Hebrew] (Jerusalem: Carmel, 2001); Yoram Peri, The Israeli Military and Israel's Palestinian Policy (Washington, D.C.: USIP, 2002); Majid Al-Haj and Uri Ben-Eliezer, eds., In the Name of Security [in Hebrew] (Haifa: Haifa University Press, 2003); Zeev Rosenhek, Daniel Maman, and Eyal Ben-Ari, “The Study of War and the Military in Israel,” International Journal of Middle East Studies 35 (2003): 461–84; Ofer Shelah, The Israeli Army [in Hebrew] (Or Yehuda: Kinneret, 2003); Yagil Levy, The Other Army of Israel [in Hebrew] (Tel Aviv: Yediot Achronot, 2003); Uri Ben-Eliezer, “Post-Modern Armies and the Question of Peace and War: The Israeli Defense Forces in the ‘New Times,’” International Journal of Middle East Studies 36 (2004): 49–70.
THE DEBATE ON CIVIL–MILITARY RELATIONS IN ISRAEL AND OUR APPROACH
Broadly speaking, one can distinguish between the “traditional,” “critical,” and “new critical” approaches to the study of the relationship between Israel's civil and military realms.5
For a useful albeit not exhaustive discussion, see Eyal Ben-Ari, Zeev Rosenhek, and Daniel Maman, “Military, State and Society in Israel: An Introductory Essay,” in Military, State and Society, 1–39; for research trends, see Rosenhek et al., “Study of War.”
David Segal, “Civil–Military Relations in Democratic Societies,” in Armed Forces at the Dawn of the Third Millennium, ed. Jurgen Kuhlmann and David Segal (Munich: SIB, 1994), 37–48. Cf. Morris Janowitz, The Professional Soldier (Glencoe, Ill.: Free Press, 1960); A.R. Luckham, “A Comparative Typology of Civil–Military Relations,” Government and Opposition 6 (1971): 5–35; Samuel Huntington, The Soldier and the State (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1957).
Shmuel Noah Eisenstadt, Israeli Society (London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1967); idem., The Transformation of Israeli Society (Boulder, Colo.: Westview Press, 1985); Amos Perlmutter, Military and Politics in Israel (New York: Praeger, 1969); Horowitz and Lissak, Trouble in Utopia; Ben Meir, Civil–Military Relations.
See especially Peri, Between Battles and his other works.
Kimmerling, “Patterns of Militarism,” 197–98; Schiff, “Civil–Military Relations”; Ben-Eliezer, Making of Israeli Militarism; Lumsky-Feder and Ben-Ari, Military and Militarism; Levy, Other Army of Israel. For criticism, see Gabriel Sheffer, “Has Israel Really Been a Garrison Democracy?” Israel Affairs 3 (1996): 13–38; Yoram Peri, “The Radical Social Scientists and Israeli Militarism,” Israel Studies 1 (1996): 230– 66.
To sum up, traditional and critical studies, which apply theories of civil–military relations to the Israeli case, suggest a “partnership” between its clearly distinguishable civil and military subsystems, whereas new critical studies anchored in postmodern approaches posit that its society is inherently “militaristic,” a fact that accounts for the predominance of the security sphere and the inherent weakness (or the nonexistence) of a truly civilian sphere. Yet, only few works have offered a more dynamic appraisal of the Israeli case, for example, by identifying something resembling a “military–industrial complex” in Israel.10
Alex Mintz, “The Military-Industrial Complex: American Concepts and Israeli Realities,” Journal of Conflict Resolution 29 (1985): 623–39; Yoram Peri and Amnon Neubach, The Military-Industrial Complex in Israel (Tel Aviv: ICPME, 1985).
ISRAEL'S SECURITY NETWORK
Israel's Security Network is a particular type of a policy network. The concept of policy networks—“clusters of actors, each of which has an interest, or ‘stake’ in a given policy sector and the capacity to help determine policy success or failure”11
John Peterson, Policy Networks (Vienna: Institute for Advanced Studies, 2003), 1.
David Knoke, Political Networks (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990).
David Marsh and Martin Smith, “Understanding Policy Networks: Towards a Dialectical Approach,” Political Studies 48 (2000): 6. See also, Bernd Marin and Renate Mayntz, “Studying Policy Networks” in Policy Networks, ed. Bernd Marin and Renate Mayntz (Frankfurt: Campus, 1991); Policy Networks in British Government, ed. David Marsh and Rod Rhodes (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1992); David Marsh and Gerry Stoker, “Conclusions,” in Theory and Methods in Political Science, ed. David Marsh and Gerry Stoker (London: Macmillan, 1995), 292–94.
Our concept of Israel's Security Network, thus, connotes a complex and fluid type of relationship between acting and retired individuals and groups of security officials and civilian actors, one that is ultimately capable of shaping policymaking in general and determining concrete policies and their implementation. Like other similar networks, actors from both types of realms have shared values, interests, and goals. Not every person can join this Network; thus, the inclusion and exclusion issue is a significant matter for active and potential members. The stability of the Network depends on continuous contacts between its active members. The structure of the Network is not determined by formal agreements, and it is not hierarchical. The boundaries between the actors that make up this Network can continuously change and they are blurred, significant overlapping areas are created, and the civilian actors are neither equal in their power to the security officials nor able to exercise effective control over them, or significantly reduce their impact on policymaking. In addition, movement between the DE and each of the civilian spheres remains frequent, if not “natural.”
As indicated above, the concept of a Security Network is different from previous conceptualizations of the Israeli case. In contrast to traditional and critical approaches, which speak of “fragmented boundaries” between purportedly autonomous security and civil spheres, or of a “partnership” between them, we contend that Israel's Security Network works against systemic differentiation of the DE from the political society and the civil society, as well as against more efficiency, transparency, and accountability in the agencies that comprise it. Instead, it creates a high level of continuous mutual penetration and interdependency, where security officials require mainly the formal approval of their civilian partners, who occupy key positions in the cabinet, the Knesset, and other institutions, and in return legitimize the latter's actions. The persistence of this state of affairs renders the notion of the IDF's “role expansion” or “role contraction,”14
Moshe Lissak, “Uniqueness and Normalization in Military-Government Relations in Israel,” in Military, State and Society, 403–5.
Yoram Peri, “Civil–Military Relations in Israel in Crisis,” in Military, State and Society, 107–36.
We also posit that Israel's Security Network stems not from the “militaristic” nature of Zionism, underscored by both the cultural and materialist strands of the new critical approach, but rather from the particular informal power structure established by the founding fathers of the Israeli State and their successors, who sought to use the DE to promote the process of state formation.16
By this last term we mean the cumulative product of three interrelated and often overlapping subprocesses: (a) state building, which consists of measures that produce “territorial consolidation, centralization, differentiation of the instruments of government, and monopolization of the means of coercion”; (b) state craft (or state construction), defined as the “processes or mechanisms whereby a state enhances its power and authority,” using its formal agencies but also an array of informal, including cultural, means; and (c) national integration, which involves centrally based efforts to inculcate the state's entire populace with a common identity. Charles Tilly, “Reflections on the History of European State-Making,” in The Formation of National States in Western Europe, ed. Charles Tilly (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1975), 42. Timothy Mitchell, “The Limits of the State: Beyond Statist Approaches and Their Critics,” American Political Science Review 85 (March 1991), 77–96; George Steinmetz, ed., State/Culture (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1999). The quote is from Eric Davis, “Theorizing Statecraft and Social Change in Oil-Producing Countries,” in Statecraft in the Middle East, ed. Eric Davis and Nicholas Gavrielides (Miami: Florida International University Press, 1991), 12; Benedict Anderson, Imagined Communities, 2nd ed. (New York: Verso, 1991); Eric Hobsbawm, Nations and Nationalism Since 1780 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990); Ernest Gellner, Nations and Nationalism (Oxford: Blackwell, 1983); Anthony Smith, The Ethnic Origins of Nations (Oxford: Blackwell, 1986).
One indication for the lack of development of Israel's democracy is the Freedom House survey. In 2005, Israel received a combined average rating of 2.0 and was behind all North American and Western and Central European states, except Mexico and Lithuania (2.0); some of the successor states of Yugoslavia such as Serbia and Montenegro (2.5), Macedonia (3.0), and Bosnia and Herzegovina (3.5); Albania (3.0); and Moldova (3.5). The Palestinian territories under its control, evaluated separately, received a combined average rating of 6.0 (see http://www.freedomhouse.org/research/freeworld/2005/combined2005.pdf). It should be noted that Israel's democracy has maintained a combined average rating of 2.0 since 1977 (except in 1999, when it received a rating of 1.5).
Turning to the general literature on civil–military relations, the nominal separation between Israel's national-security realm and each of its political, social, economic, and discursive spheres, as well as the considerable weakness of its civilian realms, renders Huntington's notion of “objective control” of the military (i.e., a professional army separated from society by integral borders and supervised by the political society) inapplicable. The same is true with respect to Janowitz' model of a society of citizen soldiers, where the armed forces are effectively woven into the civil society. At the same time, our concept of the Security Network does bear a certain resemblance to two other—more critical—concepts developed during the Cold War to explain the potent fusion of security and civilian interests that comes at the expense of other national interests and public goods. The first is Mills' notion of a “power elite” composed of state functionaries, heads of large corporations, army generals, and social leaders, who “are in positions to make decisions” that have “major consequences” for their fellow countrymen18
C. Wright Mills, The Power Elite (New York: Oxford University Press, 1956), 4.
“Farewell Radio and Television Address to the American People by President Dwight D. Eisenhower,” 17 January 1961 (http://www.eisenhower.archives.gov/farewell.htm).
Mills argues, by contrast, that “[t]he idea of the power elite implies nothing about the process of decision-making as such: it is an attempt to delimit the social areas within which that process, whatever its character, goes on.” Power Elite, 21.
The strength of Israel's Security Network is particularly significant when juxtaposed with other institutions involved in policymaking in that country, especially the Ministry of Foreign Affairs,21
Oren Barak and Chanan Cohen, The Future of Israel's Ministry of Foreign Affairs [in Hebrew] (Jerusalem: Leonard Davis Institute for International Relations, forthcoming).
The Security Network and Its Facets
The most significant sphere in which Israel's Security Network is manifest is the political society. From 1948 onward, but more conspicuously since 1967 because of Israel's overwhelming military victory, actors within the DE and its retirees have effectively monopolized the definition of, and the setting of priorities regarding, Israel's national security, the allocation of state resources, and other political, social, and economic matters. At the same time, retired and serving security officials penetrated, merged with, and established close links with actors in Israel's political and bureaucratic sectors on both the national and local levels. Fourteen retired army officers were elected as heads of municipalities in 1993, seventeen were elected in 1998, and nineteen were elected in 2003 (many others serve in other capacities in most municipalities). Thus, an article in the IDF Veterans Association bulletin contended: “No doubt, there is a clear recognition of the managerial and executive capacities of IDF retirees in the municipalities, on all levels and positions. These retirees continue to contribute to Israel's public affairs, as they were educated and experienced in the school of the IDF.”22
Tzevet 67 (December 2003–January 2004): 28.
The second sphere where the impact of the Network is apparent is Israel's civil society. One example is the movements in the realm of national security, such as the left-leaning Council for Peace and Security (CPS) and the rightist Security and Peace, which despite their political differences nonetheless share the view that the DE itself is beyond criticism. Thus, when Chief of Staff (CS) Moshe Yaalon was invited to speak before the CPS in August 2004 and one of its members criticized the IDF and its CS for what he described as their immoral conduct vis-à-vis the Palestinians, nearly all his colleagues attempted to silence him.23
Haaretz, 14 September 2004.
The Network's third facet is its role in Israel's economy, where the DE presides over large industries and effectively controls vast public resources. The DE controls approximately half of Israel's land resources and a significant part of its airwaves,24
Amiram Oren, “Security and Territory in Israel—A Combination Veiled Behind a Curtain,” unpublished paper, February 2005, 1.
D. Dvir and A. Tishler, “The Changing Role of the Defense Industry in Israel's Industrial and Technological Development,” Defense Analysis 16 (2000): 35.
For the origins of this process see Bichler and Nitzan, War Profits, 190–96, 363–64. On Israel's military ties with Singapore see, for example, Haaretz, 15 July 2004 and on its ties with India and Turkey see, for example, Ilan Berman, “Israel, India, and Turkey: Triple Entente?” Middle East Quarterly 9 (2002): 33–40.
The fourth sphere where Israel's Security Network has been visible is the public discourse on national security as well as the formulation of the country's educational policies. In addition to the military censorship on all items dealing with national security, because of the predominance of the Network and their dependence on it for continuous flow of information, journalists generally exercise self-restraint, and military correspondents in both state-owned and private radio and TV channels, who depend almost entirely on the DE for information, more often than not reflect its positions and serve as it unofficial spokesmen.27
Michael Miro, “The Impact of the IDF on the Israeli Media.” Paper presented at the Van Leer Institute, Jerusalem, 18 November 2004. The author is Acting Director of the Israeli Broadcasting Authority, Channel Two. See also, Gadi Wolfsfeld, Media and the Path to Peace (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2004).
Noted examples are the harassment of Haaretz columnist Reuven Pedhazur, a pilot in the IDF reserves, who criticized the performance of the Patriot missile and the development of Israel's Arrow missile, and of Avner Cohen, who has written extensively on Israel's nuclear project. The IDF also dislikes critical works by its own personnel. A telling example is Colonel Emanuel Wald, who was asked by CS Levi in the 1980s to write a comprehensive report on the IDF's future development based on its past experience. When it became known that Wald's report would be critical of the IDF, the CS tried to prevent its completion. Wald published his criticisms after retirement. Emanuel Wald, The Wald Report (Boulder, Colo.: Westview Press, 1992). A detailed study on the 1973 War prepared by the IDF's History Department remains unpublished, reportedly because it criticizes military commanders in that war, including the current PM Ariel Sharon.
Because of the informal nature of Israel's Security Network and its behind the scenes activities and because of the frequent changes in its composition due to old age, death, and loss of stature, it is difficult to determine the exact number of its members at a given time, provide an accurate description of its structure, or present a full assessment of its impact. Nevertheless, the next section presents some telling evidence regarding its size in the Knesset and the government.
THE EMERGENCE OF THE SECURITY NETWORK
The emergence of Israel's Security Network and its pivotal role can be explained in two ways. Using the toolkit of the new critical approach, one can consider its ascendancy in terms of the emergence of an abstract “military culture” and “militaristic politics” in Israel,29
Uri Ben-Eliezer, “Do the Generals Rule Israel?” in A Society in the Mirror, ed. Hanna Herzog [in Hebrew] (Tel Aviv: Ramot, 2000).
Kimmerling, “Patterns of Militarism.”
Consecutive opinion polls taken in Israel in the period 2000–2003 show that those feeling that their personal security, or Israel's national security, was under high or fairly high threat were very close to, or above, 50 percent. For details, see the Web site of the Tami Steinmetz Center for Peace Research (http://spirit.tau.ac.il/socant/peace/).
Asher Arian, Israeli Public Opinion on National Security, 1999–2003 (Tel Aviv: JCSS, 1999–2003).
In this context, the first factor that comes to mind is the growth in the number of people serving in the DE and later becoming dependent on its pension system, the size of the DE organizations, the volume of weapon systems they acquired, and related industries they established, and, consequently, the budgetary allocations for security purposes—all of which had risen considerably in the wake of the 1967 and 1973 wars.33
Presentation by Zalman Shiffer, former economic consultant at Israel's National Security Council and consultant for the Bank of Israel, WISS Meeting, Neveh Ilan, 18 March 2005.
By 2000, the percentage of public resources allocated to security had dropped to 8.6 percent of the Gross Domestic Product, but the outbreak of the second Intifada saw military consumption rising by 15 percent. Ibid.
The need to maintain such a huge enterprise has turned the IDF into one of the largest Israeli customers in the domestic and foreign markets. The implications have been numerous: for example, the IDF determines standards of products and influences demand and supply of numerous goods. Gradually, the DE has become a major participant in all aspects of research and development in Israel, with noted examples being the Merkavah tank, the Arrow missile, the Amos and Ofeq satellites, nuclear research, and the high-tech industry. Even Israel's high-tech boom in the 1990s was due, at least in part, to some fifty enterprises launched by former security personnel. The market value of fifteen firms established by former members of the army's principal intelligence-gathering unit was estimated at $10 billion.35
New York Times on the Web, 18 August 1997 (http://www.nytimes.com/library/cyber/week/081897ware.html); Haaretz, 15 August 2003; Dvir and Tishler, “Changing Role,” 38.
Haaretz, 9 June 2003, 5 September 2003, 22 January 2004.
Another factor is the relatively early retirement age of IDF personnel (the cycles of these retirements began in the mid-1950s). This factor, the product of pressures by the IDF on the government in the wake of the 1956 war, created a growing group of relatively young, retired security personnel seeking opportunities for second careers and enjoying at the same time financial backing in the form of generous pensions.37
Haaretz, 14 March 2003.
A strong commitment to the DE and an affiliation with the Security Network, create many career and business opportunities in Israel. This has been highly beneficial for both the retired personnel and members of the DE. A telling example is the field of arms trade and weapons export, which has attracted many retired officers and civilians who have worked for the DE since the early 1960s. Later, in the early 1980s, in view of the growing demand for Israel's expertise in securing facilities and persons, there emerged a vibrant branch catering to the local and foreign markets. The 11 September 2001 attacks on the United States reinforced this trend. Thus, the demand for these experts has grown, consequently opening up new possibilities for the Network and its members.38
One example is the decision of El Al President David Hermesh to create a commercial unit for training security agents at foreign airlines in the wake of the 2001 attacks (see http://www.israelinsider.com/channels/security/articles/sec_0108.htm). In 2000, Hermesh's appointment elicited criticism due to his ties to his former army superior, Minister of Transportation and former CS Amnon Lipkin-Shahak.
The State of Israel would naturally prefer to offer the world Jaffa oranges, polished diamonds, Hi-Tech and colorful flowers—which it has been successfully exporting for many years. However, this country's unique geopolitical situation has forced it to also focus on security, and develop… state-of-the-art know-how, products and systems related to maintaining alert and security and fighting terror.39
“Israel's Security & Safety Industries” (http://sofia.mfa.gov.il/mfm/Data/70481.doc).
In view of Israel's victory in the 1967 war and the creation of the myth of the DE's infallibility, demands for the services of its retired personnel in civilian markets increased manifold. Subsequently, their numbers as senior managers of, and advisers to, public and private economic enterprises grew further. A very limited survey that we conducted in 2003–4 has shown that over a hundred retired senior officials have served as high-ranking officials in public services and private firms, advisers, or heads of municipalities in Israel. Some statistics are provided below.
Three main advantages that former security personnel have over civilians helped Israel's DE become prominent in training officials for the public administration and significant parts of the economy. First, they have financial backing in the form of generous pensions and other benefits that facilitate their integration in civilian enterprises. Second, their purported and actual qualifications are considered to be applicable and, hence, attractive to both public and private firms. Third, they tend to have personal connections with other Network members (institutionalized through organizations such as Tzevet, the IDF Veterans Association, which serves as a lobby, or pressure group promoting their collective interests40
This could be gleaned from a cursory look at its publication, Tzevet, published since 1989 and distributed to this organization's 30,000 members.
However, the two most important factors that account for the spread of the Security Network and its salient influence on actual policies in Israel are the increasing role of the DE in policymaking not only with respect to pure defense matters but also in regard to scientific and educational issues, and the much overlooked, gradual, but vast increase in the involvement of retired security officials in Israel's political society, which began in the mid-1950s and was enhanced by major events, especially the 1967 war and the Palestinian Intifadas. The next part discusses both processes and shows how their convergence has contributed greatly to the spreading, persistence, and, ultimately, the influence of Israel's Security Network.
How the DE Monopolized Israel's National Security Policies
This section discusses the process whereby Israel's Security Network came to play a pivotal part in determining the state's national security policy. As we suggest, in some instances this resulted in more bellicose behavior by Israel toward its neighbors. However, what is more important is how Israel's national security became monopolized by “experts,” who effectively marginalized other actors from “their” turf. Indeed, whereas during the first two decades of independence conflicts occurred mainly between civilian and military leaders, the conflicts that took place since 1967 were, in many cases, within the Network itself.
As noted by historians and sociologists, because of an inherent continuity in its historical development, any discussion of the process of state formation in Israel and the making of its political society and civil society, including the relationship between its civilian and military realms, must begin with the Yishuv during the last two decades before 1948.41
Eisenstadt, Israeli Society; Dan Horowitz and Moshe Lissak, The Origins of the Israeli Polity [in Hebrew] (Tel Aviv: Am Oved, 1977); Ben-Eliezer, “Nation-in-Arms.”
Until World War II, the Yishuv mainstream (“Organized Yishuv”) established and commanded two paramilitary organizations, Haganah and Palmach, whereas the Revisionists (extremist nationalist movement) had two autonomous organizations, Etzel and Lehi. These forces were relatively small, utterly dependent on the relevant parties and political institutions, and reliant on few “professionals,” mostly volunteers. Except for certain, quite primitive weapons production and storage facilities, they did not penetrate other subsystems of the Yishuv.
This pattern had changed during the latter stages of World War II, and more so in the years immediately preceding 1948. This expansion and penetration began during the period when David Ben-Gurion, then chairman of the Jewish Agency, assumed the political responsibility for the security of the Yishuv in general and for running the Haganah and the Palmach in particular. The other senior positions in the DE were held, however, by more junior politicians, not professional fighters. This finding meant that, until that point, and except for tactical decisions pertaining to military clashes with the British or the Palestinians, the politicians firmly controlled the militias. It also meant that the “professional” military commanders were authorized to deal mostly with pure security matters.
The personnel changes in the command of the Yishuv defense forces were accompanied by three major developments. The first was that Jewish soldiers, who had served in the British army during World War II, began joining these forces, especially the Haganah. Ben-Gurion, who respected their professional capabilities, encouraged this trend. In turn, it marked the beginning of the professionalization of the commanding ranks, particularly of this purportedly nonpoliticized organization. The second development was that there was a significant increase in manpower, material resources, purchase of weapon systems, and equipment for these organizations, and hence a significant increase in budgetary allocations. The third interconnected development was a gradual penetration of the defense organizations into other subsystems of the Yishuv—especially the production and procurement of arms and the establishment of various facilities such as camouflaged weapons storage caches, camps, offices, and research and development.42
Eisenstadt, Israeli Society; idem., Transformation; Edward Luttwak and Dan Horowitz, The Israeli Army (London: Allen Lane, 1975); Michael Bar-Zohar, Ben-Gurion, 3 vols. [in Hebrew] (Tel Aviv: Am Oved, 1975), 1:510–38; Yoav Gelber, The Emergence of a Jewish Army [in Hebrew] (Jerusalem: Yad Ben-Zvi, 1986), 1–72; Horowitz and Lissak, Trouble in Utopia.
Thus, to all intents and purposes, it was during that period (from the early 1940s up to 1948) that what we call the Security Network was created, began to spread, and became active in various civilian subsystems of the Yishuv. Although purportedly Ben-Gurion was running the show, actually an increasing number of functionaries, especially “professional” military persons and civilian officials, became intimately involved in policymaking and decision making. Their activities helped extend the Network and its impact.
The 1948 war only expedited these processes. The simultaneous dismantling of all four underground militias, their partly voluntary and partly imposed amalgamation and the establishment of the IDF, the rapid substantial increase in the latter's size, and the growing size and importance of the secret services (which became known as the Mossad and Shin Bet), on the one hand, and the transformation of the Yishuv's political and bureaucratic institutions into state agencies, and the retirement of several young officers, on the other hand, created organizations that developed autonomously. One pattern did not change, however: the very intimate informal connections between security and politics. Because each of the four prestate militias had been organized by a political group or institution that held firm ideological views, their members generally shared these ideologies. In other words, since those early days of Israel, there have been inherently close links between ideology, politics, and military service. This pattern was maintained in the newly established IDF and the secret services, where certain units were “reserved” for members of certain political movements. It created a tradition of deep involvement of Israel's DE in ideological debates that determined the state's politics, to the point that this was perceived as natural and legitimate.43
Luttwak and Horowitz, Israeli Army; Peri, Between Battles; Yoav Gelber, Growing a Fleur-de-lis [in Hebrew] (Tel Aviv: Defense Ministry, 1992).
Rather than in peace agreements, the 1948 war ended in Armistice Agreements between Israel and its neighbors. This unfortunate ending from an Israeli perspective created an ingrained perception that the new state would rely on its sword for many years to come. The frequent clashes with Arab states and the Palestinians that occurred later fostered a persistent Israeli self-image of a state facing a continuous existential threat and being under siege.
This situation was advantageous to the DE, because it entailed a permanent need for its expertise, and the result was the investment of enormous resources in its agencies in the following decades. The unbeatable combination of Israeli political–military–economic isolation that fostered a strong sense of the need for self-reliance, the persistent image of continuous existential threat, and the substantial resources placed at the disposal of the DE, created the foundations for the expanding informal autonomy of the latter and its domineering involvement in matters far beyond the strict defense issues. An early proof of the IDF's deep involvement in most civil spheres and its disregard for due procedures is supplied by the protocol of an Israeli cabinet meeting in November 1948, just six months after the state's establishment. During the meeting, minister after minister, virtually all of them, bitterly complained about the IDF's penetration into their civilian areas of responsibility, and its acting according to its commanders' whims. Thus, the minister of transportation complained about the IDF constructing roads and airstrips wherever it had chosen; the minister of agriculture bemoaned the IDF building camps and holding military exercises on agricultural lands without the ministry's approval; and the minister of finance charged that the IDF had far exceeded the budgetary allocations approved by the cabinet and the Knesset.44
Protocol of Meeting of Temporary Government, 21 November 1948, Israel State Archives.
At the same time, the IDF increased and established its predominance in the spheres of strategic and tactical planning in the intertwined areas of defense and foreign relations, in effect marginalizing the Foreign Ministry.45
Gabriel Sheffer, Moshe Sharett (Oxford: Clarendon, 1996).
The strength of Israel's DE in the early decades of independence is demonstrated by its ability to act autonomously of the politicians. During the 1948 war, various offensive operations and strategic and tactical moves were planned and implemented by the IDF, and the same applies to the moves leading to various periods of ceasefire, their actual beginning and ending. Only some of the operations conducted during that war had been previously discussed and approved by the cabinet. Moreover, most military operations were of the “rolling” type, leaving the IDF with plenty of room for maneuver vis-à-vis both the political leaders and its Arab opponents. Ending the military operations that had been approved by the cabinet, in many cases, was decided by the IDF. Thus, only after immense pressure did the IDF acquiesce to the politicians' orders to withdraw from the areas it had occupied in the northern part of the Sinai and the Gaza Strip.46
Bar-Zohar, Ben-Gurion, 2:860–61; Sheffer, Moshe Sharett, 425–28; Gabriella Heichal, Civil Control over the Israel Defense Forces [in Hebrew] (Jerusalem: Ariel, 1998).
During the 1950s, it was the IDF that initiated and executed dozens of limited and extensive retaliatory operations. Frequently, the attempts, for example, of Israel's moderate Prime Minister (PM), Sharett, to control and limit these retaliatory actions failed. The army's goal was to push the Arab states and Israel toward a war, and these retaliations indeed paved the way to the 1956 war. In fact, the IDF's initial combative moves in the Sinai that opened the war were never approved by the politicians; they were planned and executed according to the ideas and inclinations of CS Moshe Dayan, and some of his generals, especially Ariel Sharon.47
Ibid. Cf. Motti Golani, There Will Be War Next Summer [in Hebrew] (Tel Aviv: Maarachot, 1997), 397–409; idem., “Chief of Staff in Quest of a War: Moshe Dayan Leads Israel into War,” Journal of Strategic Studies 24 (2001): 49–70; Sheffer, Moshe Sharett, chaps. 27, 28.
Yossi Goldstein, Eshkol [in Hebrew] (Jerusalem: Keter, 2003), 569.
Yaacov Bar Siman Tov, The Israeli-Egyptian War of Attrition (New York: Columbia University Press, 1980). The occupation of the Syrian Golan in 1967, which commenced without the knowledge of most cabinet members, is another case. Matitiahu Mayzel, The Golan Heights Campaign [in Hebrew] (Tel Aviv: Maarachot, 2001), 241–80.
Ronen Bergman and Gil Meltzer, The Yom Kippur War [in Hebrew] (Tel Aviv: Yediot Achronot, 2003), 221–85.
In the mid-1970s, members of the Security Network were active in forging Israel's policy toward Lebanon (see below). Rather than the civilian politicians, members of the Security Network were mainly responsible for the initiative of bombing the Iraqi nuclear reactor in 1981, for which, according to David Ivry, then Israeli air force commander, the military had been preparing for a long time.51
Interview, 13 October 2003 (http://www.ynet.co.il/articles/1,7340,L-2788236,00.html#n).
Ze

ev Schiff and Ehud Ya

ari, Israel's Lebanon War (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1984).
The same pattern continued to govern the IDF's behavior during the two Palestinian Intifadas. During the first Intifada in 1987, it was the IDF that determined the tactics intended to quell the Palestinian uprising. The IDF, which made no secret of its combative preparations since the Oslo Agreement of 1993, also played the critical role in the escalation in 2000, which stemmed, at least in part, from its policy of massive retaliation against Palestinian demonstrators.53
Peri, Israeli Military, 31; Ben Caspit, “An Army that has a State,” 10 May 2003 (http://www.hevra.org.il/modules.php?name=Forums&file=viewtopic&t=36%E2%80%9D).
Haaretz, 18 January 2004; Yeshayahu Folman, The Story of the Security Fence [in Hebrew] (Jerusalem: Carmel, 2004), 209–17.
Four episodes in Israel's military history demonstrate the problematic relations between the IDF and members of the Network, on the one hand, and the civilian politicians, on the other hand. First there was the “generals' revolt” against the politicians' control over the military during the 1948 war.55
Bar-Zohar, Ben Gurion, 2:799–810; Peri, Between Battles.
Tom Segev, “The Beginning of History,” Haaretz, 5 June 2003. See also, Goldstein, Eshkol, 550–63; Ami Gluska, Eshkol, Give the Order! [in Hebrew] (Tel Aviv: Maarachot, 2004).
Yoram Peri, “The Democratic Putsch of 1999,” in In the Name, 125–43.
Ibid., 141.
In 1999, the “credibility gap” between Israel's military and political parties was 23 percentage points in favor of the former. Arian, Israeli Public Opinion: 1999.
However, the growing involvement of the Security Network in making war and the way the conflicts between Israeli military and civilian leaders over the best ways to conduct wars were replaced by conflicts within a predominant Network are only part of the picture. The other side of the same coin is the decisive involvement of serving and retired army generals and other security officials in negotiations with Israel's Arab neighbors.
Again, this pattern can be traced back to Ben-Gurion, his cabinet, and the role of the IDF command in 1948–49. Many generals (Dayan, Yigal Alon, Yitzhak Rabin, Yehoshafat Harkabi, Mordechai Maklef, and others) actively participated in the armistice talks, leaving their fingerprints on most agreements on Israel's interim borders. Military officers also participated—and dominated—the armistice commissions formed in 1949.60
Moshe Dayan, Story of My Life [in Hebrew] (Tel Aviv: Devir, 1976), 79–92; Shmuel Chen-Shany, From the Battlefield to the Negotiation Table [in Hebrew] (Tel Aviv: Maarachot, 2002).
Mordechai Gur, Chief of the General Staff [in Hebrew] (Tel Aviv: Maarachot, 1998), 293–392; Ezer Weizman, The Battle for Peace [in Hebrew] (Jerusalem: Edanim, 1982); Moshe Dayan, Shall the Sword Devour Forever? [in Hebrew] (Jerusalem: Edanim, 1981).
Later, in the 1990s and early in this decade, other generals, such as Amnon Lipkin-Shahak, Uzi Dayan, and Uri Saguy, actively participated in most of the talks with Jordan and Syria, as well as in various contacts with the Palestinians. Again, their role was not limited to discussing security issues, but also to legitimizing the talks. This was particularly evident in the Israeli–Palestinian track, where security officials gradually took over the negotiations, replacing the civilians who initiated the Oslo process. In this case, the result was a peace agreement with an overly strong emphasis on security matters. In the course of this process, retired security officials (e.g., former Shin Bet official Yossi Ginosar) even assumed the role of special emissaries to the Palestinian leadership.
More recently, security officials participated in the talks concerning the U.S.-sponsored “roadmap,” whereas others took part in drafting the unofficial Geneva Accord. The public criticism of the Sharon government's policy vis-à-vis the Territories by four former Shin Bet directors in November 2003—which, yet again, is best explained as an intra-Network conflict—is also illustrative.62
Yediot Achronot, 4 November 2003.
Polls taken in 1995 and 1998 showed strong public support for the involvement of security officials in negotiations. Arian, Israeli Public Opinion: 1998.
The Growing Involvement of Retired Security Officials in Israel's Politics
Before 1955, the year that Israel's seventh cabinet was formed, not a single former security official served in its government.64
Data compiled from the official Web site of the Knesset (http://www.knesset.gov.il/govt/heb/GovtByNumber.asp). We regard civilians with significant background in the DE (e.g., Shimon Peres and Moshe Arens) as security officials.
Examining the post of prime minister also yields interesting results. Before 1992, only two PMs (Rabin and Peres) had a significant background in the DE, whereas all others were party functionaries. However, since 1992, only one PM (Netanyahu, 1996–99) had a modest security background (he compensated for this by appointing general Yitzhak Mordechai as his defense minister), whereas all other contenders for the job were retired security officials. This development was preceded by the monopolization of the position of defense minister by former security officials since 1967. Indeed, with the exception of Begin (May 1980–August 1981), this position has never since been conferred on anyone without significant experience in security matters. It should be mentioned in this regard that the cooling off period after the retirement of former officers and before entering the political and bureaucratic arenas was always short; but during the past two decades it has become even shorter and some security officials became ministers, MKs, and senior functionaries in both the public and private sectors immediately after their retirement.
Several interesting conclusions can be gleaned from these data. In the early decades of independence, former security officials were by and large absent from the state's highest formal policymaking body, the cabinet, in which civilians—mostly party officials—were predominant. This is not to say, however, that security officials did not have major impact on policymaking in that period (discussed earlier).
In the same way that the 1967 war had accelerated the “securitization” of Israel's cabinets, the Lebanese War expedited it from 1984. Again, the immediate political context was the formation of the second National Unity Government, which evinced the inability of the two major parties to go at it alone. Indeed, during the crises of 1967 and 1984 (and, to some extent, in 2001), national unity was deemed a virtue, and those representing it best were former security officials, who were appointed to key government positions. This finding suggests that the historical pattern of civil–military relations in Israel, at least since 1967, has ceased to be conflictual: the growing penetration of retired security officials into the political society has ultimately reshaped it, and struggles over security policies now occurred within the DE and/or among different actors in the Security Network.
Since 1992, that is, in the wake of the first Intifada and the Gulf War, a similar process has taken place. Not only was the DE not confronted for its inability to crush the Palestinian revolt (or deter Iraq from launching some forty missiles at civilian targets in Israel in 1991), but Rabin, the figure most associated with the army's predicament in 1987, became the country's PM and defense minister. The same applies to Sharon, the PM at the time of writing. This finding suggests that ups and downs in the performance of Israel's DE were not a crucial factor in determining who would be appointed as defense minister or as PM. The growth of Israel's Security Network and its penetration into the political realm, in other words, was not a function of the success of a particular defense policy but, rather, stemmed from the relative power of the DE compared with the weakness of the political parties.
These conclusions are reinforced when examining Israel's legislature. The number of MKs with security backgrounds rose from 0 percent in the period 1948–51, 2.5– 3.4 percent in 1955–65, and 4.1 percent in 1965–74, to 8.3 percent in 1974–77 (and again in 1981–84), to 12.5 percent in 1977–81, and to a steady 10–11.6 percent since 1984.65
Data compiled from the official Web site of the Knesset (http://www.knesset.gov.il/mk/heb/mkdetails.asp).
How do these processes fit two other significant developments in Israel in recent decades: first, the change in political views toward right-wing and ultrareligious ideologies and parties; second, the growing emphasis on individualism and the rapid dismantling of the welfare state? As we have seen, the number of former security officials joining right-wing parties since 1988 has been higher than those in leftist parties, and since 1984, it has been equal to, or slightly higher than, the number of those joining Likud. It could also be argued that the Network has adapted itself to, and perhaps encouraged, both processes. On both the political and socioeconomic levels, retired security personnel who joined center-right–wing or right-wing parties legitimized these parties.66
Cf. Mills, Power Elite, 200. Examples include Ariel Sharon, Rafael Eitan, and Rehavam Zeevi, leaders of Likud (earlier Shlomtzion), Tzomet, and Moledet, respectively. The role of Dash in legitimizing the Likud by joining its government in 1977 is also significant.
Ramifications
As suggested by the above discussion, the expansion of Israel's Security Network through the years has hindered the ability of “pure” civilian institutions to control it and counter its influence on its democratic regime.67
Cf. Dowty, Jewish State.
CASE STUDIES
The ultimate test of any new theoretical approach is its ability to explain concrete cases, and do so more convincingly than its predecessors. It is thus appropriate that we put our concept of Israel's Security Network to the test and see whether it can account for specific processes of policymaking in Israel. In this section, we present three examples of different areas where the impact of Israel's Security Network on policymaking has become apparent in recent years: (a) its expanding role in the public discourse in general and the educational system in particular, (b) its impact on determining the national budget, and (c) its role in shaping Israel's policy vis-à-vis Lebanon. These examples prove our characterization of the Network as an informal collective actor whose overriding influence is continuous, which is gradually spreading into civilian spheres and is capable of getting its way in specific instances of policymaking, despite resistance from competing actors and notwithstanding significant changes in Israel and in its regional and international environment.
The Public Discourse and the Educational System
The first case that we discuss is the gradual, but nonetheless persistent, penetration of former security officials into the sensitive sphere of education, which characterized early periods in Israel's history but has become more pronounced in recent years, and their growing impact on policymaking in this sector.
In late 2004, it was announced that, according to a new project initiated by the Ministry of Education and the army's education branch, army officers at the rank of lieutenant colonel would be positioned in seventy-four high schools throughout the country to “accompany” students in the eleventh and twelfth grades who are nearing their military draft, until they join the IDF. In fact, this program, called the “The Next Generation” and which elicited some resistance from Israeli intellectuals, only served to formalize a situation that has been in place for some time.68
Haaretz, 19 December 2004.
The other side of the same coin is the appointment of a Shin Bet official as deputy to the head of the Arab education in Israel's Ministry of Education, which enables him to be involved in, and even veto, the appointment of Arab principals and teachers. Haaretz, 29 December 2004.
Henriette Dahan-Kalev and Udi Lebel, “Security and Education: Generals as Israeli School Managers,” [in Hebrew] Politika 11–12 (2004): 27–40. Noted examples include Gimnasia Hertzelia (Tel-Aviv), Gimnasia Ivrit (Jerusalem), Art School in Jerusalem, and Hebrew Reali School (Haifa). The appointment of a former army brigadier as principal of Blich School in Ramat-Gan was thwarted in 2003, and a retired brigadier was director of the

Amal professional schools.
Not to be confused with the IDF Veterans Association mentioned earlier.
Haaretz, 30 May 2001.
Dahan-Kalev and Lebel, “Security and Education,” 35.
Two additional processes, which also intensified in recent years, complement these trends. The first is the emergence of civil society movements led by retired security officials in the realm of education (e.g., Citizens for Education in Israel, chaired by a former air force chief and a former director of the Mossad, which is part of the Forum for National Responsibility, a group headed by a former IDF general).74
For positive coverage see Tzevet 67 (December 2003–January 2004): 18.
Together, these factors mean that many members of the Network are in a position to disseminate the traditions and worldview of the Network throughout Israel's educational system. They also demonstrate the manifold ways in which their influence is exercised.
These developments can be seen as part of a process whereby the discursive realm of the Israeli polity is becoming increasingly securitized. Indeed, recent years have seen the involvement of scores of retired security officials in the media, especially the radio and TV but also in the press, where they often address matters that have little to do with security. Initially, these were lower ranking officers.75
Such as Ron Ben-Yishai in TV Channel 1 and Yediot Ahronot; Yoram Hamizrachi in the Israeli Radio, IDF Radio, Haaretz, Jerusalem Post, and Maariv; and Roni Daniel in TV Channel 2.
Determining Israel's National Budget
According to data from September 2005, the actual budget of Israel's Defense Ministry in the period 1999–2004 has exceeded the budget officially approved by the government by 10–15 percent,76
The Marker, 1 September 2005.
For several months in 2003 Israel's Treasury, headed by Minister of Finance Netanyahu, had been announcing its intention to make a deep cut in security allocations for 2004, as part of its overall plan to cut government expenditures, and it appeared that this time it would get its way. First, on the one hand, the overall economic situation in Israel was grave and seemed to require drastic measures; on the other hand, the security situation improved somewhat. Second, the Ministry of Finance managed to make substantial cuts in other areas, most notably health, social security, wages, and education. The DE too, it was argued, must contribute its share. Third, the destruction of the Iraqi army significantly reduced the so-called existential threat to Israel, allowing for deep cuts in the IDF's ground forces. Fourth, a media virtuoso, Netanyahu, who was also the probable heir to PM Sharon, led the campaign. Fifth and finally, security experts, economists, and journalists supported the Treasury in its quest, and the media was flooded with reports on the excessive privileges of military personnel and op-eds urging the government to introduce long-awaited reforms in the DE.77
Haaretz, 14 March 2003, 18 March 2003, 19 March 2003, 23 March 2003, 24 April 2003, 27 May 2003, 17 June 2003, 1 July 2003, 24 July 2003, 28 August 2003, 31 August 2003, 5 September 2003, 11 September 2003, 15 September 2003.
The original allocation for security purposes for 2003 had been NS 33.6 billion, but the DE later received “supplements” that increased it to NS 36.5 billion. The Treasury had hoped to reduce the base budget for 2004 by NS 3 billion, that is, to NS 30.6 billion, whereas the IDF sought an allocation similar to the one it received for 2003.
The DE proved a formidable opponent. In what has become an annual ritual in Israel, the IDF, supported by the Security Network, underscored the threats to Israel's national security, and argued that responsibility for cuts in security allocations in such perilous times would rest on the civilians' shoulders.78
Haaretz, 16 June 2003, 4 August 2003, 5 August 2003, 1 September 2003, 5 September 2003, 16 September 2003. For criticism, see Haaretz, 9 September 2001, 20 January 2002.
Haaretz, 10 September 2003. See also, Haaretz, 9 June 2003, 3 September 2003, 9 September 2003.
Haaretz, 15 September 2003.
Haaretz, 14 September 2003.
Israel Channel Two News, 12 September 2003.
Haaretz, 4 August 2003, 8 September 2003.
Thus, and despite the public support for the Treasury's moves, the DE, through the Network, managed to reduce the proposed cut in its budget, especially after PM Sharon—yet another retired general—personally intervened in the matter and ruled against a drastic cut. Initially, the PM ruled that the allocation for security for 2004 would be NS 32.85 billion—NS 0.75 billion less than the base budget for 2003 and NS 3.65 billion less than the overall budget for 2003—but the next day, he increased the cut to NS 1.07 billion, leaving the base budget at NS 31.78 billion. In late 2003, the Knesset approved a budget of NS 29.9 billion for security purposes. This was after its Committee for the Security Budget, which is made up of members of the Knesset's Finance and Foreign Affairs and Security Committees, refused to vote on the proposed budget (NS 32.4 billion), after Mofaz, Yaalon and his deputy appeared before it and criticized it.84
Haaretz, 19 December 2003.
Haaretz, 15 September 2003, 16 September 2003, 4 January 2004, 5 May 2004.
This case demonstrates the extent to which Israel's Security Network influences major policymaking issues that have wide political, social, and economic ramifications, even when initially the circumstances are seemingly unfavorable for the Network.
Shaping Israel's Policy Vis-à-Vis Lebanon
Much of the writing on Israel's policy toward Lebanon from the latter's “collapse” in 1975–76 until Israel's unilateral withdrawal from its self-declared “Security Zone” in South Lebanon in May 2000 contextualizes it within Israel's continuous efforts to address its broader “security dilemma” in the Middle East.86
Avner Yaniv, Dilemmas of Security (New York: Oxford University Press, 1987).
However, how could this involvement, which lasted for two decades and a half, persist despite significant developments in Israel's close environment such as the removal of the bulk of Palestinian fighters from Lebanon in 1982, the considerable weakening of Syria in the early 1990s, and Lebanon's resuscitation in the early 1990s? It is here that special attention must be given to the impact of Israel's Security Network, both in the sense of informal ties forged between acting and retired security officials and shared notions and conceptions regarding Israel's national security and the means to advance it.
As in the other territories it occupied, the ambiguity surrounding Israel's military presence in South Lebanon provided a hospitable climate for the Security Network to expand, both in terms of the prerogatives of its members and their ties with other actors. Already in 1976 it was the DE that established ADAL (Hebrew acronym of the South Lebanon Area), which provided military and humanitarian support to the local Christian militias and maintained effective control over parts of this region well before 1982.87
Beate Hamizrachi, The Emergence of the South Lebanon Security Belt (New York: Praeger, 1988).
See, for example, articles by retired Brigadiers David Agmon, former LUL chief, and Amos Gilboa, former head of Israel's negotiation team in 1984–85. Maariv, 20 October 1995, 26 October 1995, 20 March 1996, 11 April 1996, 18 February 1997, 4 January 1998. This practice continued even after 2000. See, for example, a sympathetic review of the Hebrew version of the memoirs of former SLA Chief Antoine Lahad by Eliezer Tsafrir, who was involved in establishing the ties with Lahad two decades earlier. Maariv, 13 August 2004.
Economic factors should be considered in this respect as well. In the period 1986–2000, approximately 2,500 Lebanese militiamen served in the South Lebanon Army (SLA) and were on Israel's payroll,89
Reuven Erlich, “The Conception of the Security Zone and its Ability to Pass the Test of Reality” in The Security Zone in Lebanon ed. Yaacov Bar-Siman-Tov [in Hebrew] (Jerusalem: Leonard Davis Institute for International Relations, 1997), 15.
Maariv, 17 October 1997; Haaretz, 29 January 1999, 20 April 1999.
Human Rights Watch, Israel's Withdrawal from South Lebanon, May 2000 (http://www.hrw.org/campaigns/lebanon/israel051000.htm).
Erlich, “Conception,” 25.
Haaretz, 21 February 1997, 11 April 1997.
Haaretz, 11 April 1997, 10 April 1998, 25 May 2001.
Haaretz, 30 January 1995, 27 October 1995. The annual budget of the Civilian Assistance Unit was $8 million.
In the latter half of the 1990s, and especially after two IDF helicopters collided in February 1997 leaving 73 Israeli soldiers dead, the public debate in Israel concerning its presence in Lebanon intensified, ultimately prompting its leaders to outbid one another over who would get Israel out of there first. One way to consider this episode is to regard it as a triumph of Israel's civil society, which managed to overcome the resistance of the DE to any change in its Lebanese policy. Another, which seems more convincing in light of that mentioned earlier, is to view it as an essentially intra-Network dispute. Unlike Ben-Gurion and Eshkol, who faced the “revolts” of 1948 and 1967, respectively (see earlier), PM Barak, who initiated and carried out the withdrawal from Lebanon in 2000, was himself a member of the Network and, as senior officer and CS, had been intimately involved with the formulation of Israel's policy in Lebanon. This enabled him to disregard the apocalyptic warnings of the IDF general staff, as well as the opposition of other Network members (e.g., the CIOL and some media correspondents). Whereas civil society groups, especially the “Four Mothers” movement, were indeed active in campaigning for an Israeli withdrawal, they were ultimately successful not because they offered a civil alternative to the current policy but because they managed to prove—by embracing the hegemonic discourse of national security and by recruiting “specialists,” mostly retired security officials—that its military logic was flawed.
However, creating a rift within the Network was no easy task. Several cabinet ministers, such as Sneh and Ben-Eliezer, who had laid the groundwork for the Security Zone during their military service, were personally committed to the SLA.96
Avraham Sela, “Civic vs. the Military: The Case of Israel's Security Zone in South Lebanon (1997–2000), paper presented to the Annual Conference of the Association for Israel Studies, Jerusalem, June 2004.
Maariv, 30 October 2000; Jerusalem Post, 26 January 2001.
The considerable impact of the Security Network on determining Israel's Lebanese policy for at least a quarter of a century leads one to ponder the extent of its role with regard to other contentious areas, especially the West Bank and Gaza since 1967. Indeed, several recent publications suggest that informal ties between acting and retired security officials, on the one hand, and certain civilian actors, including those involved in real estate and economic and agricultural enterprises, on the other hand, have been highly influential in shaping Israel's long-term policies.98
The military correspondent of Haaretz mentioned a “wide and ramified network of ties and interests” between the IDF command and the leaders of the settlers in the Occupied Territories. Haaretz, 26 September 2003. See also, Haaretz, 6 February 2005; Idith Zertal and Akiva Eldar, Lords of the Land [in Hebrew] (Or Yehuda: Kinneret, 2004), 373–438.
CONCLUSIONS
This essay has defined Israel's Security Network, traced its origins, and situated it within the debate on this state's pattern of civil–military relations, which in turn forms part of the broader debate on its process of state formation and the transformation of its politics and society in recent decades. By critically employing recently developed theories, making use of previously unnoted and fresh data, and, most important, by being attentive to both formal and informal aspects of the relationship between Israel's civilian and military realms, we have offered significant indications about how the considerable “gaps” in the study of this topic in Israel and in other democratic and democratizing states facing similar developments and challenges may be addressed.
Returning to the contentious points of the approaches to the study of the relationship between Israel's civilian and military spheres, several important conclusions can be drawn. First, our emphases in this essay have been on the informal political, social, economic, and discursive exchanges within a variegated Security Network and its relations with other sectors of Israeli society. Although Israel's DE is an actor with distinctive corporate interests, in time it has gradually become intertwined with actors in other spheres. Second, we have demonstrated that the main concern of the informal Security Network that emerged in Israel through the years has been policymaking on the national and local levels, and that this is where its influence became apparent. Third, what stands out clearly from our analysis is the chronic weakness of actors within Israel's civilian spheres with little or no contacts and joint interests and activities with the Network, which are unable to prevent it from influencing and even determining policymaking in crucial areas. As we have shown, this applies to Israel's national budget, foreign relations, and certain aspects of the public discourse, and one could mention other spheres such as the nuclear realm, where, in a similar fashion, opacity and the monopolization of knowledge effectively hinders a more open debate. At best, civilian leaders and groups are capable of asserting themselves vis-à-vis the DE on certain occasions; but during long tense periods, they are forced to share power with it or accept its leadership. Fourth, a related conclusion is concerned with the constant intermingling between actors from both the security and civilian spheres, especially because of the increased penetration of retired security officials into most civilian realms. This factor certainly weakens civilian control of the DE in Israel, which was only recently described by a public commission as “partial, flawed, and arbitrary.”99
Report of Public Commission for Assessing the Parliamentary Supervision of the Defense Establishment and the Ways to Improve it [in Hebrew] (Jerusalem: The Knesset, 2004).
As this article suggests, traditional theories of civil–military relations, formulated in and about Western democracies during the Cold War, are applicable to the Israeli case only to a certain extent. The reason for this is not that their underlying premise—that war is a political instrument and, therefore, the military should be under civilian control—is obsolete, but because, in Israel as well as in some new democratic and democratizing states, the means prescribed to attain this goal are counterproductive. In these states, especially when chaotic social and political transformations occur, the political society and the civil society tend to be weak, allowing defense apparatuses to evade their control and penetrate into them, regardless of whether civilian control of the military is supposed to be attained through institutionalization or through informal means. We propose that the pattern of civil–military relations in several Middle Eastern states, particularly those with certain democratic attributes (Turkey, Lebanon), is a case in point, and the same applies to some of the new states in Asia, the Balkans, and the former Soviet Union.
In the Israeli case, what has emerged is a Security Network that has spread into an increasing number of other systems in the country's public life: politics, society, the economy, culture, and the public discourse. Additional research is needed to assess the full impact of this Network on these and other spheres, particularly on the subtle ways it has helped shape them, as well as the connection to long-range, basic transformations in the Israeli society and in its polity that occur now in a chaotic fashion. For instance, a causal linkage seems to exist between the spread of the Network and antidemocratic values that prevail in Israel, such as a demand for a “strong leader.” We have also posited that retired security officials encourage conservatism in regard to security and military issues, and this finding, too, warrants further investigation. Finally, we have contended that the continued existence of the Network in Israel attests to its incomplete process of state formation and democratic development. Because the imposition of Western-style civilian control of the military under such circumstances is highly improbable, Israel's predicament would be difficult to solve.
Author's note: Earlier drafts of this article were presented at the Annual Conference of the Association for Israel Studies, Jerusalem, June 2004, and at the meeting of the Workshop on Israeli Security and Society, Neveh Ilan, March 2005. We thank Eyal Ben-Ari, Uri Ben-Eliezer, Yagil Levy, Amiram Oren, Gideon Rahat, and the editor and referees, for their comments. We also thank Tsvi Chazanov and Haggai Sinai for research assistance. Research was made possible by a grant from The Harvey L. Silbert Center for Israel Studies at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem.
