Middle East: Facing Up to the Last Retreat

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The stubborn mood extends to the Red Sea coast, where two Israeli resort settlements have sprung up between Eilat, at the top of the Gulf of Aqaba, and Sharm el Sheikh, near the Sinai's southern tip. The new spas, havens for Israeli tourists, foreign sightseers and hippies, are tolerant to a degree unheard of in Israel. Sunbathers routinely strip naked on the placid beaches. Hashish, smuggled from Egypt, is freely available. Many of the Israeli hoteliers and other developers would like to stay on after April 1982, but the Egyptian entrepreneurs waiting in the wings have resisted all proposals to set up possible joint ventures because they figure they will simply take over the resort facilities altogether.

Such concerns, however, are minor compared with the issue of military security. To Israeli government officials, the Sinai has above all been a strategic early-warning zone, affording precious time to react to any military moves against Israel's western border. Most of all, they are preparing to mourn the loss next year of two multibillion-dollar air force bases at Eitam and Etzion. The supersecret and formidably protected Etzion field is described by U.S. experts as "the finest tactical fighter base in the world." During the 1973 October War, Israeli Mirage interceptors scrambled from the field to win 42 aerial dogfights without a loss.

On one typical day at Etzion, at 10-sec. intervals, a flight of pale blue Israeli-made Kfir jet fighters hurtled off the runway in follow-the-leader sequence toward the south. Looking up at the streaking planes, a senior officer mused, "We will take with us whatever is economical to take. The rest we will destroy."

To fill the strategic gap, the Israelis are building two new airfields, Ovda and Ramon, in the north and south of the Negev. Meantime, Israeli air force officials are looking at ways to keep Etzion operational until the very last minute before the transfer. Said one officer: "Some Americans say privately to us that they can't believe we can give it back." If the Israelis cannot retain the two Sinai bases, they would like the U.S. to have access to them —but that idea is strongly opposed by Egyptian President Anwar Sadat.

For all the problems of the impending change, there are some Sinai dwellers who view it all with stoic detachment. They are the 32,000 local Bedouin nomads, many of whom have grown relatively rich from the job opportunities provided by the Israelis. Yet at least part of their timeless perspective remains. Says gray-bearded Khnebesh Rabiya, a local coffee vendor: "We don't care about Egypt or Israel. What we care about is whether our camels have enough to eat.'' -