Yitzhak Rabin, 1922- 1995Yitzhak Rabin, 1922- 1995Nothing in Yitzhak Rabin's career of soldier-statesman foreshadowed the manner of his demise, or suggested that his assassination by a nationalist fanatic would delight the zealot fringes, while plunging the rest of Israel into profound grief.
Sworn into the Hagana militia at 16, Rabin made brigade commander at 26 and IDF commander-in-chief in his early 40s. A model soldier, he was obedient to his political masters, with a key role in Ben Gurion's crack-down on Etzel dissidents; tough and unrelenting as he showed in the 1960s during incessant border skirmishes with the Syrians for control of the Jordan waters; and above all, thorough and bold, as he proved in the hours that shattered three Arab armies with his stunning 1967 blitzkrieg.
But Rabin's military eminence was marred by war crimes, notably in 1948: seeking to break the Arab blockade of Jerusalem, he ravaged the Palestinian villages overlooking the highway; Iger, he oversaw the "ethnic cleansing" of the Arab towns of Lydda and Ramleh.
Even out of uniform, the ex-general continued to advocate ruthless measures. From Israel's Washington embassy, Ambassador Rabin fired off cables urging Prime Minister Golda Meir to bomb Egyptian civilian targets in retribution for the Egyptian army's "war of attrition" along the Suez Canal. Time did not mellow Rabin's brutal bent: out of office during the 1982 Lebanon invasion, he unabashedly advised Likud Defense Minister Ariel Sharon to tighten the screws on Beirut by denying its civilians power and water. Later, Rabin - himself Defense minister now - met the Palestinian intifada with the notorious order to "break arms and legs".
Catapulted into the post of prime minister when Meir stepped down in disgrace after the 1973 war, Rabin's political debut suggested change, his implied willingness to trade captured territory hinting at a new mentality. But albeit credited with the Sinai disengagement accords - he lacked the resolve to make peace with Egypt, leaving the task to his successor, Menachem Begin. And while Rabin acknowledged the Palestinian people - a refreshing departure from his predecessor's stubborn denial of its very existence - he met its demands for national rights with the mantra that this would be "the beginning of the end" for Israel.
Instead, he espoused the Alon Plan, whereby Israel would retain much of the West Bank, and encouraged Jewish colonization, although he occasionally clashed with the hard-liners who insisted on settling near Palestinian population centers designated for restoration to Jordan (the "Jordanian option").
Labour won a narrow but clear lead in the 1992 elections. Rabin's hard-line record tilting the balance by reassuring middle-of-the-road voters who trusted his intransigence as a bulwark against Labour's doves. But, in a reversal recalling de Gaulle's "betrayal" of the Algerian colons, "Mr Security" proceeded to show that his declared intention of promoting peace was no mere lip-service. After 15 months in office, Yitzhak Rabin stood on the White House lawn, shaking hands with Yasir Arafat.
Rabin's change of heart left Israelis perplexed. After a quarter of a century of de facto peace with Jordan, few were surprised by the formal accord between the two countries. But what made a man notorious for his "Syrian obsession" invest such seemingly sincere effort in a land-for-peace deal with Damascus? Not political profit. Committed to retaining a foothold in the Golan, his "perfidy" took a heavy toll: the broad coalition allying to the Golan settlers prompted a mutiny in Labour's Knesset faction, the impending defection of two or three MKs endangering Rabin's majority.
Doubly mystifying is Rabin's turnabout on the Palestinian issue. From a youth of bitter conflict with the Palestinians, and with his record of fierce opposition to their statehood ("beginning of the end for Israel"), what induced a change of course implicitly conceding ultimate Palestinian sovereignty?
The answer may lie in his renowned "analytical mind" - in effect, a habit of working by elimination. He was won over to dealing directly with the PLO only when all other avenues were closed. The "Jordanian option" faded when King Hussein formally waived claims to the West Bank; efforts to supplant the PLO with sundry "local leaderships" had failed; the Madrid talks found Israel negotiating with Arafat's surrogates. Clear-headed enough to read the terrain, Rabin was also brave enough to reverse himself.
It was a far-reaching step. Beyond the enormous political risk of dealing with a man Begin called "a two-legged animal", Rabin had to break with his own ingrained convictions. His life's course took its most startling turn at an age when most politicians retire to write their memoirs. It was not easy. The body language of Rabin's initial revulsion towards Arafat was unmistakable, and he missed no opportunity to show his disdain for the Palestinian leader.
But having made up his mind, Rabin underwent a gradual change of heart. Intellectual conviction was reinforced by growing personal commitment. In recent months, his initial reservations about Palestinian intentions gave way to a rising passion for genuine peace and reconciliation.
Minutes before he was gunned down, Rabin, cheered by a giant peace rally in Tel Aviv's Central Square, joined in singing the hymn of Israel's peace movement. Later, in the emergency ward, doctors found the lyrics in his bullet-riddled jacket, the paper soaked in his life's blood:
After the assassination, one Israeli honoured Rabin's memory with two candles: "One for the children he killed, the other for the children he saved".