Alarmed, Ben-Gurion flew to New York to meet with Kennedy at the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel. The Israeli leader was “very worried” about what he saw as “relentless American pressures.” But Kennedy was firm: there had to be an inspection. Ben-Gurion gave in with what little grace he could muster. He returned home convinced “a Catholic in the White House is bad news for Israel.” The prime minister turned to the one man in Washington he could trust, Abraham Feinberg, a Zionist supporter of Israel’s nuclear aspirations.
At one level, the native New Yorker was the most important Jewish fund-raiser for the Democratic Party. Feinberg made no secret of why he had raised many millions: every dollar was to ensure the party backed Israel in Congress. He had also discreetly provided many more additional millions of dollars to create Dimona. The money came in cashier’s checks to the Bank of Israel in Tel Aviv, thus avoiding the accountability of the Israeli foreign exchange controls. Ben-Gurion told Feinberg to “sort out the boy. Make the putz understand the reality of life.”
Feinberg’s method was straightforward political pressure—the kind that had already infuriated Kennedy when he was running for office. Then, Feinberg had bluntly told him: “We are willing to pay your bills if you will let us have control of your Middle East policy.” Kennedy had promised to “give Israel every possible break.” Feinberg had agreed to provide an initial campaign contribution of five hundred thousand dollars—“with more to come.”
Now he used the same direct approach: if President Kennedy continued to insist on an inspection of Dimona, he should “not count on Jewish financial support in the next political election.” Powerful support came from an unexpected source. Kennedy’s secretary of state, Robert S. McNamara, told Kennedy he could “understand why Israel wants a nuclear bomb.”
Nevertheless, Kennedy was resolute and Israel was forced to accept an inspection. The president did at the last minute grant two concessions. In return for access to Dimona, the United States would sell Israel Hawk surface-to-air missiles, then the most advanced defensive weapon in the world. And the inspection need not be carried out by the International Atomic Energy Agency, but by an American-only team—that would have to schedule its visit weeks in advance.
Rafi Eitan relished the detailed account of how the Israelis had duped the American inspectors.
A bogus control center was built over the real one at Dimona, complete with fake control panels and computer-lined gauges that gave a credible impression of measuring the output of a reactor engaged in an irrigation scheme to turn the Negev into lush pastureland. The area containing the “heavy” water smuggled from France and Norway was placed off-limits to the inspectors “for safety reasons.” The sheer volume of heavy water would have been proof the reactor was being readied for a very different purpose.
When the Americans arrived, the Israelis were relieved to discover not one spoke Hebrew. It further lessened any possibility of the inspectors uncovering the true intention for Dimona.
The stage was set for Rafi Eitan.
Gaining access to the Numec plant was relatively easy. Israel’s embassy in Washington requested permission from the U.S. Atomic Energy Commission “for a team of our scientists to visit the facility to better understand the concerns expressed by your inspectors on the reprocessing of nuclear waste.” The request was granted, even though the FBI was now running a full-scale surveillance operation to discover whether Shapiro had been recruited as an Israeli spy.
He had not—and never would be. Rafi Eitan was satisfied that Shapiro was a genuine patriot, a Zionist who believed in the right of Israel to defend itself. Not only was Shapiro privately wealthy from family money and shrewd stock-market investments, his personal fortune had rapidly increased from the very large profits Numec had already made. Equally, unlike Jonathan Pollard, Shapiro was not a traitor; his love of America was manifest. Rafi Eitan knew that to even attempt to recruit him would be counterproductive. Shapiro would have to remain outside the operation beginning to crystallize in Rafi Eitan’s mind.
Nevertheless, some risks were unavoidable. To learn more about Numec, Rafi Eitan had sent two LAKAM operatives to Apollo. They were Avraham Hermoni, whose diplomatic cover at the Israeli embassy in Washington was “scientific counselor,” and Jeryham Kafkafi, a
Both agents toured the reprocessing plant but were not allowed to photograph it. Shapiro pointed out that would be a breach of Atomic Energy Commission regulations. They had found Shapiro welcoming but, in Hermoni’s judgment, “a man run off his feet.”
