Overreliance on Technology: Yom Kippur Case
Study
Modern military journals are replete with articles
claiming that recent advancements in technology constitute a Revolution
in Military Affairs (RMA). The authors of these articles claim that
innovations in weapon systems-for example, the development of precision
guided munitions-and the capacity to wage network-centric warfare
are symptomatic of this RMA, and will
afford the United States an unprecedented level of situational awareness
and the ability to apply force rapidly, accurately, and precisely
without fratricide or collateral civilian casualties.1
Should these prophets be believed?
One of the questions that is often sidestepped
in these discussions is whether advancements in technology can fundamentally
change the character of war. Classical theorists suggest that the
essential nature of war is immutable, and as such one is able to
derive from its study principles that commanders will always be
able to use to guide the development of strategy and tactics.2
On the other hand, it is difficult to argue
that technology has not been a factor in warfare. In 1298, for example,
it was the English use of the longbow that broke the line of the
Scots at Falkirk; the same technology was used to similar effect
against the French at Crécy in 1346, at Poitiers in 1356,
and at Agincourt in 1415. But had technology changed the nature
of war? While the French suffered repeated defeats, the Scots learned
their lesson at Falkirk, and when they fought the English again,
just 16 years later at Bannockburn, they held a contingent of cavalry
in reserve to attack the English archers as soon as they appeared.
The archers broke and the English were routed.3
Clearly technology has been able to affect
the outcome of individual battles, but can it change the nature
of war? Italian theorist Giulio Douhet believed that the invention
of the airplane had done just that. Douhet, one of the fathers of
strategic bombing, suggested several reasons for his belief: (1)
with air power it is no longer necessary to break through the enemy's
front lines before attacking his rear; (2) air power can attack
industrial and command and control sites in the rear of the enemy
army, which can prevent him from adequately communicating with or
resupplying his forces; and (3) air power allows for the indiscriminate
bombing of civilians as well as soldiers. The first two points,
though overstated by Douhet, are important, and have been implemented
in nearly every war since the dawn of air power. But the third point
is most interesting, not so much for its content but for the peculiar
corollary Douhet draws from it: that the mere threat of aerial bombardment
of civilian targets will cause governments to capitulate even before
the commencement of hostilities, and in fact may bring about an
end to warfare.4 Needless to say, this
has not occurred.
There are two problems with Douhet's interpretation.
The first is that the invention of aircraft simply added another
dimension in which combat may occur. The role of the air force in
combat is the same as that of the army or the navy-the application
of force to an enemy's centers of gravity. The second is that Douhet
overestimated the ability of strategic bombing to rapidly destroy
the enemy's ability to make war, and underestimated the capacity
of civilian populations to endure aerial bombardment. Both of these
points were noted during the Second World War, and in many wars
since.
Proponents of network-centric warfare, like
those of strategic bombing, claim that this new concept of operations
will engender an RMA that will fundamentally change the nature of
warfare. It too has its discontents, however. Thomas Barnett has
enumerated seven reasons why network-centric warfare may not fulfill
all of its promises, while Milan Vego has returned to the Clausewitzian
argument that technology cannot change the character of war.5
More recently, my colleagues and I have analyzed examples from modern
military history to derive five principles that should be applied
before introducing technological solutions to problems of decisionmaking
and command and control.6 These voices
of caution are endorsed by a decade of research by cognitive psychologists
on the negative consequences of human interaction with automated
systems, including, but not limited to, complacency associated with
overreliance on the automation.7
Despite these concerns, there is little doubt
that technology solutions will continue to be promoted regardless
of their potential to lead to negative outcomes. The purpose of
the present article is to describe the consequences of overreliance
on technologically advanced systems over the course of a single
war. The Yom Kippur War was selected for this analysis for three
primary reasons. First, it was brief. There are certainly more examples
of the misuse of technology in longer wars, but their enumeration
would take proportionally longer. Second, it was recent enough to
have included a number of examples of technological advancements
not present in the Six-Day War, fought just six years before. Finally,
it represents the culmination of a series of five wars between Israel
and her Arab neighbors fought over the course of a quarter of a
century. All of the armies involved were experienced at the practice
of warfare and were familiar with the terrain over which they were
fighting. This facilitates the analysis by reducing the likelihood
of inexperience or unfamiliarity with the battlefield creeping up
as possible causes of failures.
The Yom Kippur War
The Yom Kippur War, also known as the October
War or the Ramadan War, was launched at 2 o'clock on the afternoon
6 October 1973, when Egyptian infantry armed with anti-tank weapons
crossed the Suez Canal and assaulted the Bar-Lev Line in the southwest.8
Simultaneously, on Israel's north-eastern border, Syrian armor attacked
Israeli positions all along the Golan Heights. The coordinated attack
came as an almost complete surprise to Israel, which was very much
unprepared for war.
On the Golan front, Syrian tanks penetrated
nearly eight miles into Israeli territory over the course of two
days before the Israeli Defense Forces (IDF) were able to stabilize
the battlefield and prepare to counterattack. By war's end, Israeli
forces had fought their way 15 miles beyond the so-called "Purple
Line" that had divided the two nations before the outbreak
of hostilities, beating off attacks by Iraqi and Jordanian armored
forces along the way. In addition, the IDF destroyed some 1,400
enemy tanks and inflicted more than eight times as many casualties
as it suffered.9
The result in the Sinai, while not so dramatic,
was in many ways analogous. The Egyptians made a highly successful
crossing of the Suez Canal along a broad front, enveloping most
of the Israeli defensive positions. However, they failed to press
their advantage, and the IDF not only counterattacked but also crossed
the canal in force, leaving the Egyptian Third Army completely surrounded.
While Egypt still retained positions on the east bank at the time
of the cease-fire imposed by the United Nations, momentum had shifted
Israel's way, and from a military standpoint Israel was the clear
victor.10
Yet despite Israel's eventual military success,
victory was not a certainty from the start. Israeli intelligence,
due largely to overreliance on technology, had failed to predict
the invasion in spite of the existence of a relatively complete
situational picture. In terms of doctrine, the IDF relied far too
heavily on both the use of armor and the assumption of air supremacy.
Egypt and Syria also imparted too great an importance to the technology
of war and not enough to what Clausewitz called "the moral
dimensions." In the end, it would be Israeli attention to these
intangibles, and an Arab neglect thereof, that cost the Arabs the
war.
Complacency and the Interpretation of Intelligence
That the Yom Kippur War began as a surprise
to the IDF was a testament not so much to the ability of the Arab
armies to conceal their actions as to the arrogance of the Israeli
leadership. Indeed, Egyptian leaders had anticipated that despite
their considerable efforts at deception, the Israelis would discern
their intention to attack several days before the attack was scheduled
to occur. They were counting on Israeli mobilization providing them
enough time to cross the canal and establish bridgeheads, which
they expected to be able to hold until the United Nations could
mandate a cease-fire. The Egyptian high command estimated that the
army would suffer 26,000 casualties in the act of crossing the canal,
including some 10,000 killed. Because of the almost complete surprise
of the operation, the dead numbered only 208.11
The overconfidence of the Israeli general staff
was due to a number of factors that are not necessarily independent.
For example, there was the awareness that the Israeli Air Force
(IAF) was in many ways superior to the Arab air forces. Tied with
this, however, was the view that the IAF's preemptive destruction
of the Egyptian, Syrian, and Jordanian air forces had enabled the
final victory of the IDF in the Six-Day War, coupled with a certainty
that the Arabs shared this view. From these data the Israelis deduced
that Egypt would not attack until she had sufficient numbers of
medium bombers and fighter-bombers to enable her to strike Israeli
airfields deep inside Israel. While some of the assumptions were
correct, it was not true that the war had been won because of the
IAF-Arab units in the field had collapsed due to lack of leadership,
not to lack of air support-nor was the model of Arab decisionmaking
valid. Of course the Arabs had realized the need to be able to combat
the IAF, but, as the October War would demonstrate, destruction
of runways was not the only solution.12
"They forgot," wrote Mohamed Heikal, Egypt's Minister
of Information in 1973, "that it was not their genius but our
failure that handed them victory in 1967 on a plate."13
While one source of Israeli overconfidence
was the inappropriate model of Egyptian military planning, there
were certainly others. First, Israelis generally had contempt for
the Arab soldier. However, while it is true that the Arabs had been
routed in both 1956 and 1967, it is not true that they could not
fight well. In fact, like most troops, they fought well when they
were led well. But leadership in the Arab armies in the 1950s and
1960s had been generally poor, with general officer positions being
filled by political appointees rather than the most qualified professional
soldiers.14
Second, after having scored a perfect four
victories in four tries against various combinations of Arab armies,
IDF commanders had developed a sense of invincibility.15
This led many Israelis to the conclusion that any war with their
Arab neighbors would quickly result in certain victory. Indeed,
Israeli Chief of Staff David Elazar had noted that "in the
context of the 1973 balance of power, Egypt has no chance whatsoever
of accomplishing any significant military goal [against Israel]."16
Sadly, the corollary to this theorem was that there was little reason
to make any concessions to Egypt, Jordan, or Syria in exchange for
peace.17
Finally, the IDF placed great confidence in
AMAN, its military intelligence service. But AMAN suffered the same
delusions of invincibility as the remainder of the IDF, and held
the same disdainful view of the Arab forces. This led to misuse
of the considerable intelligence technology AMAN could bring to
bear on the Egyptian and Syrian deployments, and consequently a
failure to predict the war in a timely fashion.
For example, on 4 October-just two days before
the crossing of the canal-Israeli reconnaissance aircraft took photographs
that demonstrated a significant increase in the amount of Egyptian
artillery, tanks, and bridging equipment on the banks of the canal.
The Israelis were not fazed. They simply could not bring themselves
to believe that the Egyptians would attack, and as a result they
adopted the interpretation that the Egyptian Army was deploying
only for an exercise.18
This view was supported by signals intelligence.
The Israeli intelligence services had erected listening posts all
along the Suez front, and they intercepted large quantities of Egyptian
military communications. But the Egyptian high command was not communicating
via electronic means in the days preceding the attack on the Bar-Lev
Line. Unfortunately for Israel, many of the communications intercepted
during this period were part of a deception campaign to convince
the IDF that an attack was not imminent, including instructions
for units to renew leaves and permissions for officers to make the
pilgrimage to Mecca. These ruses were typically accepted at face
value by AMAN.19
On the other hand, when Arab commanders made
mistakes and transmitted vital information about the operation,
the Israelis ignored it. On the same day as the Israeli photoreconnaissance,
signals intelligence intercepted an order from the Egyptian high
command to break the Ramadan fast, a sure sign that something extraordinary
was about to occur. It too was ignored.20
Technology and Doctrine
The IDF had not remained stagnant since the
Six-Day War in terms of technology. Its weapons inventory had been
augmented substantially by shipments of Skyhawk and Phantom jets
from the United States, along with Hawk surface-to-air missiles,
M60 tanks, M113 armored personnel carriers, and M109 self-propelled
artillery pieces. Egypt and Syria also had received large quantities
of modern weapon systems from their Soviet allies, including MiG-21s
and MiG-25s; SA-2, SA-3, SA-6, and SA-7 surface-to-air missiles;
Sagger shoulder-launched, wire-guided, anti-tank missiles; and T-62
tanks.21 Both sides were well equipped
for the impending battle. The major problem for the IDF would be
that it had modernized its weapons but not its doctrine.
In war there is always a concern that an army
will learn lessons from its previous combat experience and apply
them stringently to future combat scenarios, regardless of whether
they are applicable. The IDF general staff had certainly fallen
into this trap, to the extent that by 1973 they were prepared to
fight not the last war, but the war before last. Both the Suez Conflict
and the Six-Day War had left the Israelis with the impression that
wars on the ground were won by armor and armor alone. As a result,
they failed to develop an integrated infantry-armor doctrine, and
effectively eschewed the use of infantry. This was epitomized by
the IDF's abandonment of the flexible task force as its division
organizational concept, in favor of the armored division.
This overreliance on armor would prove to be
devastating to the IDF on a number of occasions, the most notorious
of which was the attack on Tel Shams, a well-defended hill on the
Golan Heights. In one attempt on 12 October, 28 tanks of the Israeli
7th Armored Brigade attempted to take the position, but were beaten
back by Syrian infantry armed with Sagger anti-tank missiles. The
assault failed terribly, resulting in heavy casualties and the loss
of all but two of the tanks. The next day, the same position was
taken by Israeli paratroopers with a loss of only four wounded.
This effectively proved to the Israelis that armor should not be
the weapon of choice for every mission, one of the most important
lessons the IDF was to learn in the Yom Kippur War.22
On the other hand, it also demonstrated that when stripped of their
technological advantage, Syrian troops were no match for the highly
trained, highly motivated IDF.
While the Israelis misinterpreted the results
of the Six-Day War in their development of an armor-only doctrine,
what they seem to have forgotten with respect to armor was its application
to flexible mobility. Instead, they constructed a line of fortifications
along the canal-the Bar-Lev Line, named for the IDF Chief of Staff
at the time-and settled into a doctrine of static defense. Not only
had this failed the French in World War II, it had failed the Israelis
in the War of Attrition, although they were still clinging to it
in 1973.23
Clausewitz wrote, "Defense is the stronger
form of waging war."24 The Israelis
were counting on this when they built their line of defense. The
Suez Canal itself constituted what Israeli Defense Minister Moshe
Dayan called "one of the best anti-tank ditches available."
The Israelis had made the canal even more of an obstacle by creating
sand levees ranging in height from 18 to 75 feet all along the canal.
Further east, they had erected a series of fortifications whose
guns were sited to provide overlapping fields of fire against an
Egyptian force attempting to cross the canal. While formidable,
these works were not designed to withstand a long siege, but only
as fortified observation posts, strong enough to hold out until
the armor arrived.25
But armor was precisely the problem. First,
there was not nearly enough of it along the canal to prevent a crossing
on a broad front. Second, while Israel had developed its entire
doctrine around armored technology, Egypt and Syria had developed
a doctrine for combined-arms operations specifically designed to
counter Israeli armored tactics. This involved spearheading armored
operations by massive artillery bombardments, followed by large
formations of infantry armed with hundreds of portable anti-tank
weapons. Of course the Israelis were familiar with the existence
of these weapons and their presence in the Arab inventories. There
was nothing particularly novel about them, after all. What came
as a shock to the IDF was the sheer number of them. When the Israeli
tanks arrived on the scene, whether in the Sinai or on the Golan
front, they were decimated. It was a classic move on the part of
the Arabs: striking an Israeli center of gravity with as much force
as possible.26
Part of the IDF's problem was its overreliance
on armor; another equally important component was its underreliance
on artillery. The latter was related to the fact that in most of
the wars fought previously between the Israelis and their Arab neighbors,
the IAF had gained air superiority within the first few days of
the conflict, allowing its planes to be used in a close air support
role. Thus the IDF developed a doctrine similar to that of the US
Marine Corps, which uses aircraft to strike the forward edge of
the battle area in lieu of artillery. The difficulty in 1973 was
that air supremacy was hard to come by.27
The reason for this was the air defense system
developed by Egypt and Syria in coordination with their Soviet allies
during and after the War of Attrition. Arab airspace was protected
by hundreds of batteries of surface-to-air missiles, hundreds more
mobile and shoulder-launched missiles, and thousands of batteries
of radar-guided, anti-aircraft artillery. In combination these weapon
systems provided interlocking fields of fire from ground level to
somewhere above 60,000 feet.28
The existence of the missile umbrella was not
a surprise to the IAF. Israeli pilots had come up against it in
the War of Attrition, and they knew that their planes were vulnerable.
But in the three years of relative quiet since then, the IAF had
developed countermeasures and other techniques for taking the missile
batteries out of the equation. The problem was, all of their planning
was based on preemptive strikes, since AMAN had guaranteed the IDF
at least 48 hours' notice prior to an Arab attack. On Yom Kippur,
that notice was not given.29
The IAF performed well in the Yom Kippur War,
downing scores of Egyptian and Syrian aircraft in dogfights with
a loss of only four of its own jets. At the same time, it lost 100
planes to surface-to-air missiles or anti-aircraft fire, and, because
of the missile umbrella over the Arab forces, it was unable to be
used effectively in a close support role for much of the war.30
This did not represent a failure of technology on Israel's part,
but rather-as was the case with the IDF's armor-a failure to recognize
that there are limits to the effectiveness of technology, and that
the way to extend these limits is by the development of tactics
and doctrine appropriate for a wide range of situations. By relying
on a doctrine based on a preemptive strike, the IAF had essentially
taken itself out of the ground war.
Of all of the services, it was the Israeli
Navy that was most prepared to fight the Yom Kippur War. Since 1967,
the Israeli Navy had been completely refurbished, and now boasted
a fleet of 14 small, fast, missile boats armed with Israeli-produced
Gabriel ship-to-ship missiles. Both the Egyptians and the Syrians
had their own missile boats, armed with Soviet-built Styx missiles,
which had almost twice the range of the Gabriel. Despite the technological
superiority of the Arab missiles, the Israelis sunk four Syrian
missile boats in the Battle of Latakia-the first naval missile battle
in history-and three Egyptian missile boats in the Battle of Damiette-Balatin,
without losing a single vessel. This feat was achieved by the use
of aggressive tactics and electronic countermeasures, which allowed
the Israeli vessels to evade the 52 Styx missiles launched against
them.31
The Moral Dimensions
Much of this article has been devoted to discussions
of Israeli intelligence and doctrinal failures in the Yom Kippur
War due to overreliance on technology, yet the fact remains that
Israel emerged victorious from the war. How does one account for
this? Clausewitz suggested that in addition to massing forces against
centers of gravity, one must consider the "moral dimensions,"
which he believed were "the most important to pay attention
to in war."32 Among these he counted
the skill of the commander, the military virtue of the troops, and
the sense of "national spirit" (Volksgeist).33
Superiority in these factors could overcome
not only friction, but also an enemy's superiority in technology.
The Arab armies-with the possible exception
of Jordan-had long suffered from a dearth of good leadership, largely
because general officer positions were often awarded based on political
connections rather than on a general's ability to conduct campaigns.
The Egyptians and the Syrians both had worked toward ameliorating
this problem after "the setback"-an Arab euphemism for
the Six-Day War-with positive results.34
Still, their generals had nowhere near the experience of the Israeli
commanders, nor the respect of the troops.
Most of the Israeli generals had led troops
in all of Israel's wars since 1948. They were very experienced-arguably
there were no general officers in any army in the world in 1973
with as much combat leadership experience as the Israelis-and they
were very confident. Furthermore, they inspired confidence in their
subordinates, who were also able leaders. Israeli officers have
a tradition of leading from the front, rather than from a rear headquarters
area, and were generally not willing to send troops into a fight
that they would not go into themselves. This is reflected in very
high rates of officer casualties in all of Israel's wars, but especially
for tank commanders operating on the Golan Heights in 1973.
While the officers were experienced and courageous,
so were the troops. Israeli soldiers had fought in four wars since
the founding of their country, and their experiences-with their
officers, with each other, and ultimately with the victories they
had won-had positively reinforced their behavior. War was nothing
new to them, and they were well trained for it.
The Israelis also possessed what Clausewitz
called Volksgeist, a patriotic or national spirit. Because the goal
of the Arabs in most of their wars with Israel was the eradication
of Israel as a nation, the Israelis always felt as though they were
fighting not simply to win, but also to exist. This was a unifying
factor, like the natural camaraderie associated with the common
bond of military service. But in the Yom Kippur War, there was more
to it than that. Israel was now 25 years old, and those who had
fought as young men in the War for Independence were still fighting.
But this time their sons and daughters were fighting as well. Major
General Chaim Herzog relates a story that illustrates the point:
Early in the war [General Benjamin Peled,
commander IAF] attended an off-the-record briefing given by Minister
of Defence Moshe Dayan to the editors of the Israeli press. Peled
reported on the air war and mentioned in passing the loss of an
Israeli plane that morning of which the crew was missing. While
he was speaking a note was passed to him; he read it and commented,
"interesting." Looking up he reported that the missing
pilot and navigator had been recovered by a rescue team and were
on their way back to their airfield. At this point Dayan interjected
that the pilot was Peled's son. "Yes," said Peled, adding
with an expressionless look on his face, "and tonight they
will be in action again."35
It was, as Herzog noted, a war of fathers
and sons.
This has implications not only for families
or for the camaraderie of the troops, but also for the Israeli society.
In Israel, military service is very much a part of normal life.
While some authors have pointed out that this has engendered an
over-militarization of Israeli society, and occasioned a loss of
traditional values, it has certainly been a factor in the development
and training of the IDF as an effective fighting force.36
Conclusion
One of the imprints of the Yom Kippur War on
military history has been the lessons it has provided regarding
the danger of relying on technology as a replacement for doctrine,
tactics, and training. This has been demonstrated in this article
by examining the overreliance on signals intelligence-which is only
as good as the information it intercepts, and ultimately its interpretation-
that led to the Israelis being surprised by the attack on 6 October
1973; and by looking at Israel's failure to develop a combined-arms
doctrine, relying instead on armor and the Israeli Air Force to
the exclusion of adequate infantry and artillery, in the face of
Arab armies and air forces that had developed such doctrine.
The article also has pointed out that while
the Israelis were able to overcome their deficiencies, they did
so only by means that were completely independent of technology:
the quality of their leaders, the quality of their troops, and their
national spirit. This should not be taken to mean that advancements
in technology have no place in warfare. Rather, the interpretation
should be that technology must not be allowed to surpass the development
of doctrine and tactics to guide its usage, nor hailed to the exclusion
of the human element.
NOTES
1. Arthur K. Cebrowski
and John J. Gartska, "Network-Centric Warfare: Its Origin and
Future," Proceedings, January 1998; Bill Owens with Ed Offley,
Lifting the Fog of War (New York: Farrar, Straus & Giroux, 2000).
2. Carl von Clausewitz,
Vom Kriege (Berlin: Ullstein, 2002); Antoine Henri Jomini, Précis
de l'Art de la Guerre (Paris: Perrin, 2001).
3. D. F. Featherstone,
The Bowmen of England: The Story of the English Longbow (Barnsley,
UK: Pen & Sword Press, 2003).
4. Giulio Douhet, The
Command of the Air, in Roots of Strategy, Book 4, ed. David Jablonsky
(Mechanicsburg, Pa.: Stackpole Books, 1999).
5. Thomas P. M. Barnett,
"The Seven Deadly Sins of Network-Centric Warfare," Proceedings,
January 1999; Milan Vego, "Net-Centric is not Decisive,"
Proceedings, January 2003.
6. Robert S. Bolia,
Michael A. Vidulich, W. Todd Nelson, and Malcolm J. Cook, "The
Use of Technology to Support Decision-Making and Command & Control:
A Historical Perspective," Proceedings of the Conference on
Human Factors of Decision Making in Complex Systems (September 2003).
7. Raja Parasuraman
and V. R. Riley, "Humans and Automation: Use, Misuse, Disuse,
Abuse," Human Factors, 39 (1999), 230-53; Nadine Sarter and
David D. Woods, "How in the World Did We Ever Get into that
Mode? Mode Error and Awareness in Supervisory Control," Human
Factors, 37 (1995), 5-19.
8. For two good, though
very different, treatments of the war, see Chaim Herzog, The War
of Atonement: The Inside Story of the Yom Kippur War (London: Greenhill
Books, 2003); and the Insight Team of the Sunday Times, The Yom
Kippur War (New York: ibooks, 2002).
9. Simon Dunstan, The
Yom Kippur War 1973 (1): The Golan Heights (London: Osprey Publishing,
2003), pp. 37, 83-84.
10. Simon Dunstan,
The Yom Kippur War 1973 (2): The Sinai (London: Osprey Publishing,
2003), pp. 82-83, 91.
11. Mohamed Heikal,
The Road to Ramadan (London: William Collins Sons, 1975), pp. 11-45;
Chaim Herzog, The Arab-Israeli Wars (New York: Vintage Books, 1984),
p. 242.
12. Herzog, The Arab-Israeli
Wars, p. 227; Benny Morris, Righteous Victims: A History of the
Zionist-Arab Conflict, 1881-2001 (New York: Vintage Books, 2001),
p. 393.
13. Heikal, p. 45.
14. John Laffin, Arab
Armies of the Middle East Wars, 1948-73 (London: Osprey Publishing,
1982), pp. 10-11.
15. Walter J. Boyne,
The Two O'Clock War: The 1973 Yom Kippur Conflict and the Airlift
that Saved Israel (New York: St. Martin's Press, 2002), pp. 10-11.
The 1948-49 War for Independence and the 1967 Six-Day War were certainly
victories. The Israelis had won a military victory in the Suez Campaign
of 1956, even though they had been compelled by pressure from the
United States to evacuate Sinai. The War of Attrition was claimed
as a victory by both sides. For Israel, however, its military legacy
included the inappropriate solidification of doctrinal developments
that would lead to many casualties in the Yom Kippur War.
16. Ehud Yonay, No
Margin for Error: The Making of the Israeli Air Force (New York:
Pantheon Books, 1993), p. 314.
17. Martin van Creveld,
The Sword and the Olive: A Critical History of the Israeli Defense
Force (New York: PublicAffairs, 2002), p. 220; Avi Shlaim, The Iron
Wall: Israel and the Arab World (New York: W. W. Norton, 2001),
pp. 315-18.
18. Ian Black and
Benny Morris, Israel's Secret Wars: A History of Israel's Intelligence
Services (New York: Grove Press, 1991), pp. 309-10.
19. Ibid., p. 297.
20. Ibid., p. 309.
21. Samuel M. Katz,
Arab Armies of the Middle East Wars 2 (London: Osprey Publishing,
1988), p. 5; David Eshel, Chariots of the Desert: The Story of the
Israeli Armoured Corps (London: Brassey's Defence Publishers, 1989),
pp. 93, 190.
22. Herzog, The Arab-Israeli
Wars, pp. 296-97.
23. Note that not
all Israeli commanders agreed with this view. Major Generals Israel
Tal and Ariel Sharon both proposed a doctrine of flexible mobility,
but were ignored. Ariel Sharon with David Chanoff, Warrior: An Autobiography
(New York: Touchstone, 2001), pp. 219-20; Eshel, pp. 89-90.
24. "Die Verteidigung
sei die stärkere Form des Kriegführens." Clausewitz,
p. 372.
25. Herzog, The Arab-Israeli
Wars, p. 230; John Laffin, The Israeli Army in the Middle East Wars,
1948-73 (London: Osprey Publishing, 1982), p. 21.
26. Hassan el-Badri,
Taha el-Magdoub, and Mohammed Dia el-Din Zohdy, The Ramadan War,
1973 (Dunn Loring, Va.: T. N. Dupuy Associates, 1979), pp. 36-37.
27. Herzog, The War
of Atonement, pp. 251-53.
28. Lon Nordeen, Air
Warfare in the Missile Age (Washington: Smithsonian Institution
Press, 2002), p. 143.
29. Yonay, pp. 310-12.
30. Nordeen, p. 141.
31. Van Creveld, p.
246; Herzog, The Arab-Israeli Wars, pp. 311-14.
32. ". . . die
moralischen Größen zu den wichtigsten Gegenständen
des Krieges gehören." Clausewitz, p. 166.
33. Ibid., p. 168.
34. Heikal, pp. 48-50.
35. Herzog, The War
of Atonement, p. 255.
36. Van Creveld, pp. 153-56.
Also available online at:
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