was produced as the statement by Orbach, and when Panikar personally confirmed the report in a conversation with me, Sharett declared that no official invitation to meet the Egyptian leader was ever extended to him "at that time." This was begging the question, because all feelers were, of course, strictly unofficial. He may have made these denials because he was less than proud of his role that year. In 1954, as Prime Minister, he had to withstand immense pressure. His Minister of Defense withheld vital information from him; his Chief of Staff was out of control; public opinion was manipulated by the activists; and back in the shadow lurked the grand figure of BenGurion, officially a hermit in the Negev but actually very active in undermining the position of his successor. Any kind of concession to the Arabs might have destroyed Sharett's political standing at the time. Only much later, stricken with cancer and aware that his end was near, Sharett-this unassuming yet proud man-had the courage to stand up to Ben-Gurion, castigating him during the later stages of the Lavon Affair in a series of speeches which gained him admiration and respect.

Arabs always believed Sharett was the opposite of BenGurion. Indeed, Sharett, who had come to Palestine at an earlier age than Ben-Gurion and grown up in an Arab neighborhood, knew Arabic well and loved Arabic culture. He also had some of the physical features of an Arab, as well as a sense of dignity and decorum which made him liked by the Arabs. However, it is wrong to assume that fundamentally Sharett's attitude was different from BenGurion's. The many differences of opinion between the two men concerned only nuances and methods, Sharett generally preferring the soft word and well-formed phrase to Ben-Gurion's bluster.

Sharett was a man of peace. But peace for him meant an Arab acceptance of the status quo created by the victory of Israeli arms, including the refugee problem. It is highly significant that throughout his eight years as Israel's

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