Uma leitura interessante.
Por favor não iniciem mais uma "flame war".
Israel: Missions of Shin Bet Special Operations Unit
by Amit Navon
"Dipped His Head in Blood"
Ma'ariv (Sofshavu'a Supplement)
April 11, 2003
A certain Palestinian terrorist who operated from one of the West Bank villages
in the 1980's was generally considered a tough nut to crack. Shin Bet
investigators tried unsuccessfully to break him under interrogation. To uncover
the information in his possession about the terror organizations became the
number one assignment. However, arrests and interrogations notwithstanding, the
man never lost his cool.
At that point, the Shin Bet operations unit stepped in.
First, its members studied the daily routine of the "subject." After a
considerable period of time spent in following him and gathering information,
they came up with an idea on how to trip him up.
In a complicated move, the Shin Bet arranged for the man to be in a certain
place on a certain day. At the appointed time, the Palestinian was walking along
a dirt track; he had no idea that the Shin Bet had arranged for IDF roadblocks
to isolate the scene of events.
An unmarked car containing members of the operations unit wearing kaffiyehs
stopped in front of the man. Two agents climbed out and pushed him into the rear
seat, the car radio loudly playing Arab music all the while. After the initial
shock wore off the Palestinian tried to speak, but was silenced by the masked
men seated in front and on either side of him. "Silence, traitor," one of them
barked, "You are working with the Zionists!" The stunned Palestinian, fearing he
would be killed by the unidentified terrorists who had accused him of being a
collaborator, hastened to tell them of his exploits as a hero of the Palestinian
people and of his ties with the arch-terrorists.
"This is just one small example of what the operations unit does," says Danny
Bar, one of the men in the car. "The wilder your imagination, the better the
operation. You could call this the Matkal [an IDF elite] reconnaissance unit of
the service."
Of all the Shin Bet units and departments that shy away from public knowledge,
ranging from the Jewish division to the prime minister's personal bodyguards,
the operations unit has most managed to maintain its anonymity.
There is a clear division of work in the various branches of the service. "The
professional units deal with the various spheres: Arabs, the USSR, the Jewish
division; all of them carry out operations," Bar notes. "Their people don't go
out into the field to operate; they work in their offices or meet with agents,
each according to his sphere. Once it is decided that an operation is needed in
a specific sphere, it is passed on to the operations unit."
The unit caries out an extensive range of operations, from tailing individual
terrorists to spying on complex operations. Bar's years of experience as a field
man have helped him to write his new book "Shahid" [martyr]. The book describes
a situation where hollow bricks filled with explosives, concealed for a
terrorist pickup, were emptied out by the unit and refilled with sand. It is
enough to recall how the Shin Bet "dealt with" the M16 rifle belonging to the
Kahalani brothers from Qiryat Arba, who had planned to kill the Palestinian
Zayyad Shami, to realize that such descriptions rest on solid ground.
[Bar] In this unit you never know ahead of time when your job is due to start or
when it is over. You set out at a moment's notice. You could be seated around
the table on Seder night and the phone might ring: 'Danny, someone has just
arrived at the airport; he needs to be tailed.' And then you are caught up in
that for two weeks.
The unit has plentiful means at its disposal and is provided with just about
everything it asks for. I could say that I need a semi-trailer truck for an
operation, or an Arab taxicab -- not just one but several, with a different cab
waiting for me at two-hourly intervals, for a patrol I am conducting in a
refugee camp. You could really go wild; the extraordinary becomes run of the
mill. [end Bar]
Gambles With His Life
To say "extraordinary" is putting it mildly when you listen to Bar's stories of
the unit's clandestine activity; when in a matter of fact manner he describes
how he was almost killed in the Nabatiyah market, with the muzzle of a
Kalashnikov rifle digging into his stomach and a howling mob surrounding him,
you feel as if this is part of an espionage thriller.
"We learned that the commander of a terrorist gang was expected to leave Beirut
and make his way to Nabatiyah to meet with a terrorist we were following," Bar
recounts. "They were supposed to meet in the market, and I found myself a spot
to watch them from there. I sat in a cafe and waited. I had been in the unit for
about six years by then and was pretty much a veteran. I began to sense that
something was wrong. The air around me thickened; my surroundings sent out bad
vibes. I radioed the man in charge that I was leaving. I left the cafe, came to
another street corner, and sensed a movement close by. I decided to get out of
there. Less than a minute later I spotted from the corner of my eye a man armed
with a Kalashnikov approach, and suddenly he dug it into my stomach and backed
me against the wall. There must have been thousands of people in the market, and
they began to close in on us. Nabatiyah is a small town of extremely devout
Shiites. Everyone was yelling, I had this cocked rifle sticking into my stomach
and I realized that it would only take a second for my life to be over. I had to
decide what to do; so I had to gamble.
"I tried to speak, but he was angry and shouted: 'I do the talking here,' and
prodded me even harder with the rifle. I said to him in Arabic: 'I am with the
IDF,' since, even if he were a terrorist, he would presumably wish to take me
prisoner, which would give the rescue team time to do something. My problem was
that I could not alert the rescue team as I could not speak or use my radio. But
when I said that to him he sort of flinched and said: 'I am with the Christians.
I'm sorry. You can go.' 'No way,' I told him, 'not with what's happening around
us; keep walking, grab hold of me and tell them that you are going to kill me in
an alley.'
Luckily for me, everyone around me was yelling and no one else heard what I had
said. But he did take hold of me then, and the rescue team spotted me being led
away with my hands in the air. I could hear the commotion in my earphone, the
orders how and from where to fire, and I realized that they would start shooting
in our direction at any minute. I managed to say 'stop!' at the very last moment
and they realized that things were OK. The guy released me, and we made
arrangements to pick him up for questioning that evening. When we met later on
he said to me: 'You dress like a Palestinian, you walk around the market in
Nabatiyah that is crowded with Shiites; what did you think they were going to
do? Someone called us and said that a Palestinian had been seen in the area and
was planning a bombing attack. I came to kill you. I never intended to start
negotiating with you. You Israelis will never understand Lebanon.'"
Prays With Muslims
Undercover actions similar to that in Nabatiyah became part of the unit's
expertise long before the IDF formed the Duvdevan and Shimshon units. The
actions were conducted mainly in the Palestinian territories. Bar, with his
oriental features and his Jerusalem-accented Arabic, moved through the casbahs,
local schools, hospitals, and even entered the mosques, a single Jew among
hundreds of worshippers, kneeling with them and piously praying to Allah.
[Navon] Did you ever overdo it?
[Bar] You frequently give yourself away in very minor ways. I had several sets
of clothing; for Gaza, for Nabulus, each set adapted to the small disparities
that exist between the regions. But when you enter a village, the inhabitants
can tell straightaway that you are foreigner. All you need is go to the village
center and enter a cafe. All eyes are on you and you need to make some sort of
immediate gesture explaining that you are trying to conceal your foreignness;
you begin to chatter, you play the game, and they calm down. But in almost every
case someone will come up to you and ask for the time, to listen to your accent.
Once when I was working undercover, I was seated on a bench on an avenue leading
into Rafah. Perhaps my disguise was not too good; anyway, a man came up to me
and asked me in Arabic: 'What time is it, sir?' No Arab will say 'sir ' to a
fellow-Arab, only to a Jew. To be addressed as 'sir' means that you are not from
these parts; besides, he was wearing a watch and did not really want to know the
time.
[Navon] What was your reply?
[Bar] I didn't reply. I made a sort of 'go away' movement with my hand, but I
got out of there fast as it was obviously a place where they detain people.
The surveillance we did in the territories was quite different from that in Tel
Aviv. When you follow someone who is walking along Gordon Street in Tel Aviv,
someone else is following him on Frishman Street and a third on Ben Gurion Blvd,
and we all move parallel to the subject. But when I followed someone in the
casbah in Nabulus I stayed close, 20 to 30 meters behind. If you are discovered
in the casbah, no one will come to your rescue. You cannot make yourself heard
on the radio because of the surrounding noise. When you go in there, it's one on
one.
[Navon] It sounds really scary.
[Bar] It is, but you don't dwell on it. You know it's dangerous but acceptable,
that's all there is to it.
But one incident that happened to the British caused genuine fear. It happened
in Ireland about 20 years ago. Two British sergeants attending a Catholic
funeral in Belfast were stuck and unable to get away. People climbed onto the
roof of their car, ripped it open with iron bars and removed them by force. One
of the sergeants foolishly fired his pistol in the air. The two were lynched by
the mob and their bodies burned. As an undercover agent, I could not help
cringing when I saw it on television; it was hair-raising and you realize that
it could happen to you.
[Navon] Does the unit carry out liquidations in the territories?
[Bar] Now when you look at all the operations that are carried out, they are
modeled on the unit. But the operations people are not alone; they lead and
guide the army. True, you become bogged down sometimes and then you need to
shoot. In 1980, a handler named Musa Golan was attacked by one of his Fatah
sources, Bassam al-Habash, during one of their meetings. Al-Habash threw pepper
in his eyes and stabbed him to death with a knife. The hunt for him began, the
kind of hunt the service knows how to mount. Not like in the movies, when you
see a long line of men with dogs checking the terrain. You wait. The key word is
patience. We set up an entire operation intended to bring the killer to a
certain place. That day, en route to the operation, we ran into him by chance in
the Balatah refugee camp near Nabulus. It was ten o'clock at night, and
everything was dark. Suddenly we spotted him walking towards the rendezvous.. We
closed in on him in an unmarked car. He knew he was a wanted man and he fired
immediately, without hesitating, using Musa's pistol, a .45. I think he was able
to get off six shots before we killed him. [end Bar]
Surveillance in Tel Aviv
For many years the Shin Bet has had to focus its attention on the struggle
against Palestinian terror, but one of the service's original and important
tasks was to uncover foreign spies. The unit was assigned to the task of
physical surveillance of intelligence agents who had been infiltrated into
Israel. It is strange to think of the crowded cafes and noisy streets of Tel
Aviv serving, unbeknownst to the public, as a backdrop to intelligence
operations.
[Bar] Tel Aviv is a city for spies. It is central and has all the commercial
action and the foreign journalists. One very popular cafe near Tel Aviv's He
Be'Iyar square is an Israeli intelligence stronghold.. They start their
surveillance and training exercises there; everything begins with a meeting in
that cafe.
Assignments of that kind are very sensitive. The slightest mistake could bring
the whole team down. Take a simple situation: You are following someone along
Dizengoff Street and he enters a store. When he leaves, he starts walking
towards you. If you are inexperienced, this could upset and confuse you. For
instance, people suddenly and instinctively duck their heads, feeling it makes
them more inconspicuous. The biggest joke that, as it happened, took place
during a training exercise, not an operation, was when someone ducked down,
'dropped where he was' as you do in army training. He simply dropped into a
crouch in the middle of the street. He was a member of an elite reconnaissance
unit and was just acting on instinct. If a foreign agent had seen that, he would
simply have disappeared from sight.
Sometimes the unexpected happens even if you have thought of everything. On one
occasion we entered the apartment of a spy to photograph certain papers. We
checked the place out, rang the doorbell, and no one answered. We went in, and
then we suddenly saw the cleaning woman Later we discovered that she was deaf
and had not heard the doorbell. Her back was turned to us and luckily she heard
nothing as we closed the door behind us and left. [end Bar]
Equal Opportunities
Women are also active in the operations unit alongside the men, and they form an
important part of the surveillance teams. "The girls do the exact same jobs as
the men. We were years ahead of the IAF [Israel Air Force]; it took them far
longer to accept women for their pilot training courses; the same things are
required of the girls; the same drills. Sometimes working together makes for
amusing situations. You frequently change outfits during surveillance. For
instance, a girl could be following a foreign spy, wearing a school uniform,
shirt, shorts, and sandals, her hair braided. She can follow him dressed that
way for about 20 minutes, but then she is out of the game. She dashes to the car
and often unthinkingly takes off her shirt and changes into a different outfit.
And you wonder whether to look in the rear mirror or not. There was one funny
incident on Gruzenberg Street in Tel Aviv. I was on lookout and the girl in my
team wanted to change her clothes and take off her trousers, so she dashed into
a backyard close by. A little boy happened to be passing, holding onto his
mother's hand. All of a sudden he saw the girl, undressed from the waist down.
He simply could not turn his head away and kept on staring at her until, bang,
he walked into a wooden post. [end Bar]
Surveillance frequently entails long hours of waiting. But it also has certain
"pluses." "There was a Cypriot journalist, Paskalis Panayotis," Bar says, "who
was spying for the terrorists and was subsequently sentenced to five years in
prison. He spent most of his stay in Tel Aviv at the Merkaz cinema, watching
pornographic movies. Some member of the surveillance team was always faster than
the rest, informing us: 'That's OK. I'm already inside.'"
Colonel Klingberg
After more than a decade spent in the operations unit, Bar felt that he had
exhausted his capabilities. Therefore, in a move rare in the Shin Bet, he
underwent special training and began to run, or "handle," operatives. According
to the allocation of work in the Israeli intelligence community, the military
504 unit is responsible for running agents in countries bordering on Israel; the
Mosad runs agents abroad, and Shin Bet recruits its agents in Israel and in the
territories. But as early as the 1970's the Shin Bet had also requested
permission to run agents overseas. This blurring of boundaries caused a fair
amount of disputes with its colleague, the Mosad.
[Navon] Why did you request a transfer from operations to running agents?
[Bar] After spending 19 years in operations, it is wise to move on. Everyone
realizes that. Age also comes into it. To run, or handle, agents you need to be
more mature, with experience in life. It is totally different from operations,
where you try not to make contact with people. I was fascinated by the
psychological aspect of recruiting and running an agent; the complexity of the
human mind. After all, an agent operates counter to his values, his society,
and, at times, his family. Some of them can live with that, even if it pains
them, and some actually carry out attacks while working with us, telling
themselves: We will go on working with the Israelis, but we will get them
another way.
I had one agent whose recruitment process went on for two years. There was some
unclear problem with his behavior. He explained why he had enlisted in the first
place and said to me: "Look, my father is really hard on me, always humiliating
me. When I got a 5 grade in math, he said: 'You are nothing, you are worthless;
I was the class genius.' When I dated the prettiest girl, he said she had no
breasts, nothing." This agent was no child, he was a man of 40. He told me that
he had visited his father's grave on the day he enlisted and cursed him and then
added: "You may have been better in everything than I was, but you were not a
Mosad agent." He thought that he was working for the Mosad; everything is Mosad
where they are concerned. It was the complex relationship with his father that
motivated him, not Israel or ideology. Other agents, considered the black sheep
of their families, covet the special Mosad aura. We have also held staged
ceremonies to bestow IDF officer's rank on an Arab agent belonging to a terror
organization, to make him feel honored. Klingberg has also spoken of being made
a colonel by the Russians. These are familiar methods.
[Navon] Your book mentions a strange situation where a handler of Shin Bet
agents talks with an agent about the need to evacuate settlements.
[Bar] As the handler, you are at one end and the agent is at the other end. You
need to help him bridge the gap, help him feel that what he is doing is not all
that bad, that we are both fighting for peace. We both want the same thing. You
can tell him whatever you like, provided it sounds right. I had one young fellow
who ran agents; he was working with a likely candidate and it takes a long time,
a year or even two years of playing him along until you can actually recruit
him. This fellow told his recruit about himself; he said his parents had
perished in the Holocaust. That was ridiculous, because he was too young to be
the son of Holocaust victims. It's all a matter of experience; it's the little
things that count.
[Navon] You wrote about one Israeli handler who was familiar with all the
tiniest details, such as Palestinian slang.
[Bar] That is a true story. One of our handlers encountered a Palestinian and
asked him about himself, who he was, from where, and so on, and the Palestinian
answered in Arabic that he was a 'muhandas shawari' which literally means 'road
engineer.' The handler recommended recruiting the man as an agent, noting that
he was obviously educated and had a profession. He did not know that 'muhandas
shawari' is the term used to refer to people who are unemployed and spend their
time roaming the streets. [end Bar]
Cocktails With the Queen
Bar, 48, joined the Shin Bet in May 1977 following his military service with the
Golani Brigade. He was one of a small group of 10 trainees beginning their
training for the operations unit, not knowing what duties would be assigned to
them. Following a long course of training that included surveillance,
photography, undercover work, and other intelligence activities, he became an
active member of the operations unit.
During that period, he was involved in almost every espionage incident that
reached the headlines. Bar took part in the operations that uncovered Vanunu,
the 'atom spy'; Prof. Marcus Klingberg, the KGB agent who worked at the Israel
Institute of Biology in Nes Ziyyona; as well as less famous names such as a
Nigerian colonel from the UN peacekeeping forces, Alfred Gum, who smuggled
suitcases packed with explosives from Lebanon into Israel for the terrorists.
Another spy exposed by Bar and his unit was Styg Bergling [as transliterated], a
member of the Swedish Secret Service who headed the Soviet desk of the service's
counter-espionage section. The Shin Bet discovered that Bergling was himself
working for the Russians. He was arrested and extradited to Sweden.
After eight years with the unit, Bar took a course of Middle East studies at the
Hebrew University in Jerusalem, where he met his wife Ne'ama. After his service
in operations Bar moved on to become a handler himself. In 1995 he and his
family moved to Caracas, the capital city of Venezuela, where he served as the
embassy's security officer. After two years in that violent place, the family
moved to London, where he was in charge of security for all Israeli
institutions. In London he also met the top members on the "liquidation target
list" in the course of a special evening planned by the British Secret Service
for the VIP's it was guarding. Thus Bar found himself having intimate cocktails
with Queen Elizabeth, Prime Minister Tony Blair, and the famous Salman Rushdie.
He retired in 2000. The vacuum left following his 25 years in the service
prompted him to write. His book, "Shahid" [Martyr], which appeared this week,
was written during that time. It describes a Shin Bet pursuit of a group of
suicide bombers who were planning to detonate themselves at a peace rally in
Rabin Square, and it contains genuine experiences and incidents from the years
of Bar's service. The censor banned 40 pages of the book; another book he wrote
was banned altogether.
Writing fulfilled him and Bar was enjoying his retirement until he came across a
small newspaper ad to the effect that the Ben-Shemen Youth Village was seeking a
director general. Born in Tiberias, Bar had gone to school in Ben-Shemen as a
boy. He decided to close the circle and, together with his wife and three
daughters, has been managing and living in the village since July 2001.
Madness in the Beirut Hills
He did not start a family until the stormy chapter in his operational activities
was behind him. During his first years with the unit, it was difficult to plan
ahead, not knowing what the next day would bring. During the Lebanon War he
received a call from his commanding officer, Ehud Yatom, ordering him to pack a
bag sufficient for two days and sending him to Beirut. He returned from there
six weeks later.
He worked with another operations man. They were provided with a villa in
Bhamdun overlooking Beirut. "I still recall the surrealistic paintings on the
walls. We would return to the hills from the city; the Phantoms would appear as
the sun was setting in the background, and we saw the fires blazing in Beirut as
if we were watching a movie," he says.
The assignment was extremely compartmentalized. No one in the service knew what
the two were doing. The then-chief of the Shin Bet, Avraham (Avrum) Shalom, was
personally in charge of the action.
"We would go down to Tel Aviv for debriefing and re-briefing and then drive back
up into Lebanon. Those trips were madness," Bar recalls, "until Avrum decided to
come to us by helicopter. Once he asked us to take him on a tour of the area
where we were operating. At the time Beirut was still divided into two zones and
the terrorists controlled the western part of the city. We used an unmarked car
and drove to the port area. We drove through narrow streets until we reached a
grocery shop that was filled with sand, blocking the road. Suddenly Avrum said:
'Turn right here.' We looked at each other and I said: 'Avrum, if we make a
right here we will no longer be in our area.' I was practically stammering,
because Avrum was crazy; we were scared of him. Every shout of his made us jump.
The guy with me repeated that this wasn't our area, but Avrum said: 'I know this
area like the palm of my hand.' We turned right and a second later we heard the
'ping' of sniper bullets hitting our fuel tank. And then, with total
indifference, Avrum said: 'I guess things have changed since my time; better
back up.'"
Bar speaks of Avraham Shalom with admiration, observing that Shalom had greatly
furthered the unit's operations.
"Avrum was an operational genius, but he was totally crazy and unpredictable.
One day I was driving past Tel Aviv University and saw Avrum in his 504 Jeep
trying to overtake some lieutenant colonel driving a Karmel Dukas [a now defunct
Israeli car first allocated to IDF officers in the 1960's]. The officer was
blocking him because he had nowhere to turn and then he stopped the car and got
out. Avrum climbed out of the jeep and I saw my chief on the verge of coming to
blows with a lieutenant colonel in the middle of the road; so we left our car
and went to his rescue.
"A funny thing happened in Lebanon once. When I was not working in Beirut with
the unit, I also served there as an IDF reservist. We were traveling in a convoy
between Tyre and Sidon, when all of a sudden I saw Avrum stuck in the middle of
a huge traffic jam, his .22 in his belt, vigorously directing the traffic in
order to extricate his car. Around him were masses of Lebanese trucks. I said to
the soldiers in my vehicle: 'That's the chief of my service over there'; they
laughed fit to burst and did not believe me. He looked like such a dummy,
standing there with his shirttails half out, his hair over his eyes. They
thought I was joking."
Lesson of No. 300 Bus Affair
Eventually it was the unit he had nurtured for so long that was involved the No.
300 bus affair and complicated things so badly for Avraham Shalom. The unit's
commanding officer Ehud Yatom and members of his team fractured the skulls of
the two captured terrorists.
"My heart grieves for Avrum. He was greatly affected by that. I don't know where
the truth lies in this story. I don't know whether he had been given an order by
[then Prime Minister] Shamir or not. Both of them will take this secret to their
graves."
[Navon] How did that affair appear from behind the scenes?
[Bar] Believe me, we were very naive; we had no idea of what was going on. We
were so preoccupied with our own affairs, and operations were so extremely
compartmentalized that we did not know what was happening. We are all the best
of friends and we sit in pubs and drink beer for hours, and then I might say:
'I'm going to bed; I have to get up early and go to work,' and it is obvious to
my friends from the service that I am not about to divulge the nature of the
job. It's not about being pompous, it's just ingrained so deeply in the unit.'
That is why we knew nothing of what had happened there. To this day I don't know
exactly what took place. All I know is what I read in the newspapers. We didn't
know what had gone on between Avrum and the other three in the room (Peleg
Rada'i, Re'uven Hazaq, and Rafi Malka, who had fought against whitewashing the
affair and demanded Shalom's resignation -- AN)
[Navon] Did the struggles of the service's top leadership have no impact on the
unit?
[Bar] For a very long time the service believed that it was above the law. We
are past that stage. We had a meeting with Shamir when he was prime minister.
After everything that had happened in the above incident, he said something
like: 'I expect you to do the things, but we cannot always protect you.' One man
from the unit got up and said: ' This is not your private firm. If I were the
owner of a grocery store I would realize that I was responsible for it. But the
responsibility in this case rests with you. If it were illegal, I would not do
it, so you have to back me up.' But Shamir dismissed him with a few words,
saying that it was OK and that 'we all have great respect and affection for
you.'
[Navon] Were you influenced by the clandestine actions in the heart of the
Palestinian territories?
[Bar] The power you have is sobering. You realize that it is useless. OK, so we
foiled yet another localized attack and killed another Jihad leader, but it
doesn't end, so what is the solution? True, you can't suddenly lay down your
arms and say that it's all over. But you realize that power is not the solution;
it has limitations. That is the conclusion you reach after wandering around the
refugee camps. I also wrote the book at a time when it seemed that Baraq would
sign a final peace treaty with the Palestinians. I had to change the ending
later. History moves along a certain track; it seems that we need to dip our
heads in blood before we sober up.
