“As you know, South Africa is in extreme turmoil right now, and the standing government may not survive. General Van Ruut contacted us last week. He told us that military command and control was disintegrating and, in particular, he expressed doubts about the security of his country’s nuclear capability.” Around the room there were a mixture of reactions, disinterest not among them.
“I thought South Africa had disarmed,” Sonya Franks remarked.
Bloch explained, “The South African government began a very public project to dismantle its nuclear arsenal about ten years ago. Six weapons, all of a moderate tactical yield, were involved. Under international supervision, the critical components were destroyed, and the fissionable materials placed under care of the International Atomic Energy Agency. There were, however, two … exceptions.”
The Cabinet members who had not been present at the first briefing stiffened in their chairs.
“At the last moment, orders were given to keep two weapons intact. General Van Ruut knows nothing about the reasoning for this, but it goes without saying that it became a closely held national secret.”
Van Ruut gave a distinct nod and said, “A small cadre of special troops has been guarding these things for over a decade. They are a legacy, and our politicians can’t decide whether to keep them, destroy them, or … well, lately there has been talk of using them.”
General Gabriel, Chief of Staff of the Israeli Defense Forces, broke in. “Weapons like that wouldn’t have any impact on such a widespread civil war. We’re not talking about battling tank armies here, were talking about a half-dozen rebellious factions, some of them armed with nothing more than spears and machetes. Setting off a nuclear device would only give the opposition a cause to unite behind.”
Van Ruut said, “I agree sir, from a tactical standpoint. But our leadership is fracturing. They might not act in a militarily rational way if things truly collapse.”
Someone else asked, “So you think these weapons are a danger?”
“Yes,” Van Ruut said. “I originally wanted to find some way to dismantle them, but the assets to do that weren’t under my control. I discussed the problem with some of my closest peers in the military command structure, and they all agreed that these two weapons were a serious threat. Then, ten days ago, the answer fell into my lap. I was ordered to move them from a storage facility in the Kalahari to a weapons complex outside Cape Town. It occurred to me that we could give them to another country, a neutral third party, to be held. The only country that made sense was Israel.”
Jacobs watched the varied reactions around the table. Some appeared to relax, intrigued but no longer concerned. Others squirmed, sensing more to come.
Bloch said, “Nine days ago, General Van Ruut contacted us, explained the situation, and asked for our help. He did this at great personal risk, I should add, and knowing that his career in the South African Defense Forces would be at an end. Time was of the essence. This was put to us the day before the weapons were to be moved. We had a matter of hours to decide. The Prime Minister called an emergency session of this Cabinet, and the decision was made to go ahead.”
Ariel Steiner, leader of Jacobs’ archrival Labor party, interrupted and volleyed his comments straight at the Prime Minister. “I’d like to see the minutes of that meeting, since I was out of the country.”
Jacobs was ready. He slid a copy of the minutes over to Steiner who eyed it suspiciously. “Read it later,” Jacobs said. “We’ll go over the highlights now so that everyone has the picture.”
Not put off, Steiner tried a different tack. “With respect to the General here, how do we know he’s not just working to disarm the South African government in favor of the rebel forces?”
“You don’t,” Van Ruut said, glaring at the politician but maintaining his bearing.
General Gabriel intervened. “Mr. Steiner, I’ve known General Van Ruut for nearly twenty years. He is an honorable officer with genuine concern for his country.”
“Seems to me he’s stabbing his country in the back. If the rebels win this thing he’ll be a hero to them. They’ll probably make him Chief of Staff of the new military!”
Van Ruut bristled.
Ehud Zak, Jacobs’ right-hand man who often became a buffer at such meetings, pleaded, “Gentlemen, please!”
Jacobs had heard enough. “We weighed these issues last week and decided he was on the level. Some people in positions of power can put aside self-interest.” The remark was leveled squarely at Steiner, and Jacobs let it hang in the air for a moment. “In any event, there was a more compelling reason for us to get involved.”
Bloch said, “You’ve all heard of Project Majik. It brought us our own nuclear capabilities, back in the 1960s. Some details of that project are still closely held, and they are relevant to this discussion. Mordechai should explain.”
Bloch relinquished the head of the table to Paul Mordechai, officially the Special Assistant to the Minister of Energy. He was a thin, be spectacled man who, at thirty-one, was fifteen years junior to anyone else in the room. His curly hair was much longer than it should have been and he exuded a gleeful energy. Wearing khaki pants, a striped button-down shirt, and a miserably knotted tie, he could have been a graduate student about to lecture a university class, which had indeed been the case ten years earlier. Mordechai stood and bounced a bit at the head of the table, then grinned at an impressively somber collection of faces. His less than professional appearance annoyed some, but everyone knew Mordechai’s level of job security was likely higher than that of anyone else in the room. He had an uncanny knack for connecting the technical to the practical, an attribute that would make him a fixture in many Cabinets to come.
He began the lesson. “A great many things are necessary in order to develop nuclear weapons. Some of those things we had in 1960. We had the theoretical and scientific know-how. We had the engineering capacity. There was, however, one crucial element we lacked, that being a large supply of high quality uranium ore.” The engineer scanned for any reaction, but his pun had fallen flat on the dour group. He forged ahead. “During this time, South Africa was also after the bomb. She had a strong base of theoretical scientists and plenty of uranium ore, but was struggling with the engineering. In particular, the design and construction of a reprocessing plant.”
Steiner blurted, “So they gave us ore and we built them a reprocessing plant.”
Mordechai was clearly intrigued by this rushed display of flawed logic. He looked curiously at Steiner, as a botanist might study a four-leafed clover.
“No. This came at a time of high tension for Israel. We were consistently at war with our Arab neighbors, and we knew the first time we lost would be the last. Building a plant in South Africa would have taken time. The solution was simply this — they sent us the ore, and we sent back a percentage of what we processed.”
The Minister of Public Works weighed in, “This is all interesting, but are you saying these things that happened over forty years ago affected your decision to take these weapons?” A Labor man, he emphasized the word “your” while looking at Jacobs.
Mordechai answered, coming nicely into form. “Absolutely, so try to follow. At the time, many countries were working on the bomb. The established nuclear powers put a lot of effort into finding out what everyone was up to. Reprocessing uranium is not a sterile business. Various radioactive isotopes are inevitably released into the environment. They can be found in soil samples taken from around the facility, and also in upper atmospheric air samples downwind of the plant. At the time, we were in a hurry, and not concerned with the environment or who knew what we were up to.”