Divided in Defeat

The scene had an almost eerie unreality. There was Egypt's President Gamal Abdel Nasser, architect of his nation's most staggering defeat, beaming to the crowds with the confidence of a conqueror. And there was an equally ebullient Soviet President Nikolai V. Podgorny, outwardly unconcerned that his latest Middle East adventure was dissolving like a Sahara mirage. When the smiling Presidents met at Cairo International Airport last week, Podgorny took Nasser's hand and held it high in a boxer's victory gesture. It was almost as if a dazed Sonny Liston, having just been counted out, had staggered to his feet and claimed a knockout over Cassius Clay. "We will fight to victory," the airport crowds chanted. "Down with American imperialism!"

To hear Nasser and the rest of the Arab world tell it, they had not only clobbered Israel; they were getting ready to do it all over again. Egypt, which lost 356 planes and 700 tanks in the war, was receiving regular shipments of Soviet MIGs and tanks. To make up for the 15,000 Egyptian soldiers killed, captured or missing, Nasser simply recalled 15,000 of his troops from Yemen. Why not? They had not been notoriously successful there either.

"We Will Call the Shots." Though the cease-fire had been in effect for more than ten days, Cairo chose to remain a city under siege. Windows stayed blacked out, sandbags and anti-bomb walls were still being built in front of public buildings, people were still being stopped for security checks. Huge ack-ack guns clanked their way through the city streets. The Arab Socialist Union, Egypt's only political party, began recruiting a popular militia. To keep returning Egyptian troops from spilling the real battle story, Nasser quarantined them outside Cairo; and many families that lost sons or husbands in the war have not yet been notified of their deaths.

Almost as if it believed its own words, Cairo's semiofficial newspaper, Al Ahram, continued to accuse the U.S. of sending its planes to fight for Israel. Now the paper even claimed that the U.S. "planned and led" the attack. "Let no one think we will talk peace with the aggressors," bristled a Cairo newspaper editor. "The war is not over. We are preparing for the second round, and this time we will call the shots." To make sure he would do the shot calling, Nasser sacked his Prime Minister, named himself to the job, organized a new 28-man Cabinet, and took full charge of the Arab Socialist Union.

In three days of talks with Podgorny, Nasser sought more arms, economic aid and--even more important--sorely needed reaffirmation of Soviet friendship. Whatever promises he received, he may well have received a warning along with them--an order to cool his belligerence at least for a while. For Russia remains deeply nettled with Nasser for his inept military performance and his cocky determination to accept only hardware, not advice, from Moscow. This time around, Nasser will have to make concessions.

Not to be outdone by Egypt, other Arab states jumped back into the arms race. Syria, which lost 90% of its 70-plane air force, got 25 MIGs from Eastern Europe, at least three Soviet ships and another from Algeria docked at the port of Latakia with shrouded deck cargoes that looked unmistakably like tanks. Algeria and Iraq began bargaining for more arms from Eastern Europe, and from Jordan, King Hussein sent a hurried mission to Saudi Arabia to seek new weapons. Besides building for war, Arab leaders realize all too well that a strong army may be their only means of staying in power once the full shock of defeat sets in.

Barefoot & Bloody. Though they could not seem to face up to the fact that they had taken a beating, the Arabs could not avoid the problems that the beating created. At the new Israeli border with Jordan, Arab refugees poured across the war-torn Allenby Bridge, clinging to twisted girders, edging their pathetic way on planks and boards. Some were barefoot and bloody. Almost everyone brought only the clothes on his back, and some wore three or four outfits in the scorching sun. Tons of relief supplies arrived in Jordan, but distribution collapsed, and food and medicine piled up at the Amman airport. Last week hundreds of refugees--hungry and homeless--began heeding the advice of Jordanian officials and returning to occupied Jordan to "await liberation." Traffic and the problems of processing became so great, however, that Israel finally had to bar any further reentry.

The flood of refugees only aggravated the Arabs' financial loss. Jordan's tourism, the nation's biggest foreign-exchange earner ($35 million yearly), was steadily drying up after the loss of the Old City of Jerusalem. The closing of the Suez Canal was costing Egypt $600,000 a day, and the loss of tourism another $1,500,000 a week. Lebanon's big hotels were almost empty, and many of its nightclubs and discotheques were closing down. "At least someone is helping the refugees," moaned one Lebanese nightclub owner. "But nobody is doing anything for me."

Disunity as Usual. Even when the Arab countries did try to do something, they got nowhere. In the first meeting of all 13 Arab League states since 1965, Arab Foreign Ministers gathered in steamy (120DEG), sandy Kuwait for seven hours to work out a united policy. Hardly had they shaken hands when they came out fighting as usual. The socialist left--including Egypt, Algeria, Syria, Iraq and Yemen--wanted all oil states to cut off shipments to the outside world. More moderate--and more oil-rich--Saudi Arabia, Kuwait and Libya said they preferred to limit the ban to the U.S. and Britain. How could the Arabs raise revenues, asked the moderates, if no oil flowed? All agreed on the need for an Arab summit meeting; there was no agreement on the location.

As an added problem, a new power rivalry began building between Algerian Strongman Houari Boumediene, 41, and Syria's President Noureddin Attassi, 37; each was obviously anxious to replace Nasser as the new leader of the Arab left. Boumediene hurried to be come the first Arab leader to fly off to Moscow after the Middle East debacle. Attassi quickly followed him, then went Boumediene one better by flying on from Moscow to New York, becoming the first Arab head of state to attend this session of the United Nations General Assembly. Though neither man has the popular following to threaten Nasser's leadership, between them they could put a crimp in any return to so-called Arab unity.

Out of the din of disunity, only one Arab leader emerged as reasonable, rational and restrained--Jordan's spunky little King Hussein. Last week Hussein turned his back on the shrill propaganda and admitted there was no proof of earlier Egyptian-Jordanian charges that U.S. and British planes supported the Israeli attack. He also criticized the Arab left for rushing into the Soviet camp and making the war an East-West affair rather than the Arab-Israeli fight that it was. "This is not my policy, and I will not adopt this attitude," he said. "The Arab nation must work out its own policy." With that, Hussein, too, decided to come to the U.N. to plead the Arab cause.

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