Courage Under Fire

Ehud Barak, the Israeli Prime Minister, doesn't care much about how things look. The tanks he supervised as an army officer were among the military's dustiest. The suits he wears as a civilian are unmodish and occasionally ill fitting. Points of ceremony do not rate with him. He refused to take umbrage when the Syrians sent merely their Foreign Minister to a peace summit with him last December--or to be insulted when his negotiating partner would not shake his hand.

Given his disregard for appearances, the Israeli leader was not especially bothered by the undecorous images produced last week by Israel's hastier-than-planned withdrawal from southern Lebanon. HUMILIATION! cried a newspaper as the retreating Israeli army blew up its outposts and let weapons and ammunition slip into the hands of the Lebanese militia Hizballah. In the midst of the muddle, Barak was a picture of equanimity. Addressing reporters after the pullout, he appeared buoyant. "I like criticism," he said, as he flashed a bit of his trademark thin-lipped smile. "It keeps our adrenaline up."

The idea of an adrenaline junkie in the commander's chair was understandably nervousmaking in the volatile Middle East. In Washington there were worries that Hizballah or Palestinian extremists might somehow jeopardize the peace process by provoking Barak to retaliate. At the United Nations--which now has to police the Lebanese peace--there was some alarm that Barak had moved unilaterally, but that was followed by cautious optimism. The move was textbook Barak: surprising (his last name means "lightning" in Hebrew), courageous and smart.

However unseemly, the withdrawal was the end of a costly, arguably pointless 18-year occupation that cut short the lives of hundreds of Israeli soldiers, mostly young conscripts. It was the erasure of a long-standing blot on Israel's international credibility. And it was the fulfillment of an election promise so radical and attractive that most voters, for or against Barak, had originally written it off as mere gimmickry. "The tragedy," Barak declared, "has come to an end."

His generals were not so sure. Asked by TIME whether the Lebanon affair was over, military chief of staff Lieut. General Shaul Mofaz snapped back, "What are you talking about, 'over'? It's a new situation, and we have to see what will be." Israel's army brass have not hidden their disapproval of the pullout. Their fear is that while Israel has quit the fight in Lebanon, Hizballah and its Syrian backers have not.

Barak hopes his threats of massive retaliation will prevent such a development. Still, uncertainty about the other side's response made the pullout a risky move, for both Israel's security and Barak's political longevity. "The decision to leave was very much Barak's," says a government official, "and it was taken in the face of a lot of hedging by others. The consequences, good or bad, will also be uniquely Barak's."

In an interview last Friday afternoon at the Tel Aviv offices of the Ministry of Defense--a portfolio that former General Barak manages himself--the Prime Minister, wearing a plain navy blue suit, was jaunty and seemingly lighthearted, anything but fretful. "There is," he said, "a certain element of calculated risk. But my job is not to be paralyzed by uncertainties." A spirit of triumph radiated from Barak's staff. "We did it!" exclaimed spokesman David Zisso before correcting himself: "He did it."

Barak is notorious for marching alone. Possessed of a preternatural certitude, he cares little what others think. Faced with challenges and doubts, he constantly counsels, "Wait, wait, you will see." It's a trait that drives rival politicians and the professional complainers of the Israeli media batty, in part because they suspect he is right. Last week he certainly delivered, bringing 1,000 Israeli soldiers home from Lebanon under messy conditions--but without a single casualty.

By midweek, HUMILIATION! headlines had turned to kisses: MAMA, WE'RE HOME! One poll indicated that 75% of the public supported Barak's move. The Prime Minister, who seems to value modesty as much as certainty, wouldn't crow. Asked by a Palestinian reporter whether the withdrawal wasn't one of the best Israeli decisions in years, Barak laughed. His reply: "It's one of the good decisions of the last week."

The war Barak was attempting to end never had a name. It was a spin-off of the Lebanon war, which began in 1982, when Israel pierced Lebanon in a desperate--and mostly successful--attempt to evict the Palestine Liberation Organization and to replace Syria's hegemony with its own, a goal that was not realized. By 1985 the Israelis had withdrawn from all but a tiny strip of southern Lebanon, where they remained in an effort to prevent cross-border raids. Assisting Israel in the 328-sq.-mi. Security Zone, as it was called, was the South Lebanon Army (S.L.A.), a collection of local Lebanese under mostly Christian commanders who were equipped, trained and financed by Israel. Together with Israeli army troops, they fought remnants of the mostly dispersed P.L.O., the Lebanese Shi'ite militia Amal and the radical Shi'ite Islamist group Hizballah, formed in 1982 in opposition to Israel's continuing presence in Lebanon.