The Oslo Accords established the Palestinian Authority and were meant to lay the groundwork for an eventual resolution to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, with the establishment of an independent Palestinian state. This was opposed by much of the national-religious community as it would require Israel to relinquish control of the West Bank, the biblical homeland of the Jewish people. In Streetwise Hebrew for the Times of Israel Community, each month we learn several colloquial Hebrew phrases around a common theme.
These are bite-size audio Hebrew classes that we think you'll really enjoy. This month, we're learning phrases on the topic of strength and power. In a Facebook post, Netanyahu cited instances in which he said he had condemned the anti-Rabin incitement prior to the assassination. No, no. We have an issue here with political rivals, not with enemies.
We are one people. At the commemoration of the assassination at Mount Herzl, with Prime Minister Netanyahu in the audience, Rabin's son, Yuval, alleged that the incitement against his father was still continuing. Anyone who thinks differently is labeled a traitor. At the Knesset later that day, Netanyahu responded to the slain prime minister's son's remarks, saying, "I understand your pain in the face of the waves of slander and smears against your father. I have done so many times in the past, but in light of your emotional call, I once again repeat this message in full force.
He checked his gun, a Beretta 84F semi-automatic pistol, and his ammunition: a mix of regular and hollow-point bullets, the latter designed to expand on impact. He did not want to wound; he intended to kill. A t that moment, Rabin and his team were preparing for the rally. Sheves lost that battle, but prevailed on the choice of official slogan: Yes to Peace, No to Violence. The threat Sheves had in mind was not chiefly Hamas bus bombs, but internecine enmity and hatred, pitting Israeli against Israeli.
In the crowd were Noa and her older brother, Jonathan. No one saw Amir — a fellow Israeli Jew — as a threat, let alone an assassin; he looked and sounded like them. By now Rabin had finished his reluctant performance of the Song For Peace and come down the stairs. As he was getting into his car, Amir approached. A third bullet wounded a bodyguard. He grabbed the assassin by the neck and hit his gun-holding hand, the two falling backwards on to the ground.
When he talks about it now, his voice is hesitant. The Shabak had to grant special clearance for this interview, and he switches the camera off on our video call. Today Agent A is a lawyer, his past life a secret shared only with his family and closest friends. And yet in those long seconds, it was a different thought that pulsed through him. In my job. I failed. And I still carry that feeling with me. Even after so many years. The official inquiry found that he and his fellow agents followed procedure perfectly; they could not be faulted.
When our interview is over, unprompted, Agent A clicks on the camera so I can see his face. The agent who had been shot managed to bundle Rabin into the car and ordered the driver, Menachem Damati, to take the prime minister to Ichilov hospital, just a few minutes away.
But the driver was so shaken, he became confused. Swerving to avoid pedestrians, crashing through red lights, Damati eventually saw a police officer. He pulled over and told the man to jump in. Ten minutes had passed since the prime minister had been shot. Incredibly, no one at the hospital gate had been alerted. Damati had to stop and explain what had happened, before he and the police officer carried Rabin, bleeding profusely, into the trauma ward.
Soon a medical team of more than a dozen filled an operating theatre — including specialist surgeons who had driven across Tel Aviv in a crazed scramble. But it was a false hope. The doctor tells me all this from his desk in Tel Aviv.
On the video call, you see a man who is controlled and precise, a medical professional at the top of his field. But talking about that night, he falters. Some of them loudly. They were crying not only for the prime minister — they were crying for their fate.
The journey there had been frantic, all of them piling into a car, following the news on the radio.
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