The Haj - Leon Uris [137]
‘For a man who knows nothing of military matters, you venture some interesting opinions,’ Bakshir said.
‘The Jews are not sleeping in the fields. We are. They are home defending their settlements as we should have done. The Jews will not run. The Jews will not surrender. They will fight to the last man, not only over the radio and in the newspapers but on the battlefield. You are a military man, Mr. Zyyad. How many men will we be willing to lose trying to capture Tel Aviv, Haifa, and Jerusalem? A million? Two? What combination of Arab armies will commit to such a sacrifice—and if they do, who will have the stamina to carry it out?’
‘What makes you think I am a military person?’
‘Your straight back. Your accent is Trans-Jordan mixed with English. You are British-trained. You are of Bedouin birth. You have a tattoo on the back of your hand that tells me so. Put it all together with your fancy shoes and that would make you an officer in the Arab Legion. Everyone in the casbah knows that Mayor Bakshir and King Abdullah are in some sort of secret alliance. So ... why all the mysteries?’
‘You are taking all the joy out of this,’ Clovis Bakshir said.
If Zyyad owned a sense of humor, it was not apparent. ‘I am Colonel Farid Zyyad of the Arab Legion, as you surmise,’ he announced stiffly. ‘I am on a personal mission for His Majesty, King Abdullah. Your perception that the war may truly be over is an opinion that has merit and quite a few followers. Surely you realize that of all the Arab countries, Jordan alone will end up with Palestinian territory. We hold the police fort at Latrun. It is two miles from Tabah. One push to recapture Ramle and Lydda and you are back in your village.’
Is that the shit I came here to listen to?
‘Look at me, Colonel Zyyad. I am naked. A thousand thieves cannot strip a dead man. What you tell me is the cruelest hoax of them all. Your Legion is our best army, but your line is stretched so thin a feather could blow through it. You are not coming out of Latrun on the attack and you know it.’ Zyyad started to speak, but Ibrahim overrode him. ‘You know that the Jews have successfully built a road to Jerusalem through the mountains that bypasses Latrun. Now you are moving your last contingents here into the triangle to claim it for Abdullah and you are stretched even thinner. The Arab Legion could not raise another battalion of troops if half the recruits were camels. You want this war to end here and now.’
The colonel and the Mayor stared at one another, stunned.
‘Now, my brothers, what is it you want of me?’
Zyyad nodded to Clovis Bakshir. ‘Haj Ibrahim,’ the Mayor said, ‘King Abdullah is not a fanatic on the subject of the Jews. I can tell you he was dragged into the war against his will.’
‘And I can guarantee you that the Arab states will never permit Abdullah to make peace with the Jews,’ Ibrahim retorted.
‘Peace will come in good time,’ Bakshir continued. ‘The point is, we also believe the war will not go further. Palestine is up for grabs. We do not want to be pushed back across the river for continuing the war. What is important is that those parts of the country in Arab hands should stay in Arab hands. You challenged me about governing ourselves. We can’t do it. Our only Palestinian choice is the Mufti and his people are already gathering in Gaza. With Egyptian backing, they may lay claim to the West Bank as the Palestinian state.’
‘By Allah’s beard! That is already what the United Nations offered us! Why in the hell are we fighting this war? Why are our people sleeping