Yoni: Fighter and Writer 
By Elli Wohlgelernter	

(July 3) - Twenty-five years after he fell while commanding 
the Entebbe raid, Yonatan Netanyahu is still considered an 
international hero with a universal message. 

Yoni Netanyahu has been gone 25 years, yet he still lives on. 
Not only his name, carried by those born after him, and on 
street signs and schools from Jerusalem to San Antonio, Texas; 
not only through his inspiring legacy of bravery and heroism; 
but also through his thoughts and ideas, which stretch back 
nearly 40 years, yet are so remarkably relevant to Israel's 
current situation that his exact words are now resounding on 
the nightly news. 

Those words, almost quaint in the world of post-Zionism, are 
part of a renewed interest in Yoni. In addition to last week's 
commemoration of the silver anniversary of the Entebbe operation, 
there is also the reissuing of his book of letters, a new 
documentary on his life that aired Wednesday night on Israel 
Television, the establishment of a nonprofit organization 
dedicated to perpetuating his memory, and also the realization 
that his understanding of Israel's political reality then is as 
applicable an argument today as when he first wrote it. 

"As you no doubt know from reading the papers, the situation 
in Israel is, in a word - catastrophic! Not a day passes, 
literally, without a border incident, sabotage, mine explosion, 
murder, ambushes, shootings and setting fire to fields. During 
all the years of my service and of my living here the situation 
has never been so tense. In the army, everyone is impatient - 
when are we finally going to strike back?!! We have complete 
confidence in our strength. We are capable of anything." - 
October 25, 1966 

Yoni's basic story is that of a 30-year-old reconnaissance unit 
(Sayeret Matkal) commander who led the successful July 4, 1976, 
raid on Entebbe that saved the lives of 104 hostages, but which 
ended tragically with his death. 

That story alone would have guaranteed his name being added to 
the pantheon of Jewish war heroes, together with Joseph 
Trumpeldor, Hanna Szenes and Mickey Marcus. But two subsequent 
events enlarged the legacy, making Yoni's name publicly known 
beyond that of any other fallen soldier hero. One was the 
publication of Michtavei Yoni (The Letters of Jonathan Netanyahu), 
which revealed the inner thinking and feeling of an 
extraordinarily mature, sensitive Zionist patriot. The other is 
the political rise of his younger brother, Binyamin, and the 
efforts by political opponents to tarnish Yoni in an attempt to 
damage his sibling. 

In addition, there are the efforts of the post-Zionists, or 
anti-Zionists, anxious to discredit any part of Israel's history, 
including its heroes, from Trumpeldor to David Ben-Gurion to 
Yoni Netanyahu. 

Yet the legend remains, in part, because of the effect Entebbe 
had on so many people, from an American immigrant who named his 
son after Yoni, to Prisoner-of-Zion Natan Sharansky, who felt, 
sitting in solitary confinement, that he, too, would be rescued 
one day. 

The story of Entebbe has been told many times, in half-a-dozen 
books and four movies, though not always accurately. On June 27, 
1976, an Air France plane with 228 passengers flying from Tel Aviv 
to Paris was hijacked, after a stopover in Athens, by two Arabs 
and two Germans and flown to Entebbe, Uganda, 3,200 km from 
Israel. A week later, at midnight July 3, the first of the four 
C-130 Hercules transport planes touched down at the airport, 
and Operation Thunderbolt - later renamed Operation Yonatan - 
was under way. 

A black Mercedes rolled off the plane first and rushed towards 
the old terminal where the hostages were being held, led by the 
commander, Lt.-Col. Yonatan (Yoni) Netanyahu. After killing two 
guards, the lead team leaped from the car and ran towards the 
building. Just as they were about to charge into the hostage 
room, Yoni was hit, but as per his instructions not to care for 
the wounded until the hostages were secured, no one stopped to 
help him. After the hostages were freed, a team of doctors tried 
to resuscitate him, but to no avail. Yoni was pronounced dead at 
the airport. 

"We were in the first plane that landed, with the Mercedes and 
two Land Rovers," says Amos Goren, who rode in the Mercedes 
sitting behind Yoni. 

"From the point we landed until the terrorists in the room with 
the hostages were eliminated, took about three or four minutes. 
From the time we opened the initial fire until that was 
completed... it took maybe a minute." 

Goren, a bullhorn in his hand, had been running towards the 
building with Yoni when he lost sight of him. It was Goren who 
yelled to the hostages in Hebrew and English, "Koolam lishkav! 
Everybody lie down! We are the Israeli army!" 

Ten seconds later, the room was secured and the second-in-command, 
Muki Betzer, received word over the radio that Yoni had been hit. 

"That's when we knew of it initially," remembers Goren, retelling 
the story he has told hundreds of times in the past 25 years. 
"The next we heard of [Yoni's death] was when we landed in 
Nairobi. We were resting in the plane - I was actually sleeping 
in the front seat of the Mercedes - and Ehud Barak,who was in 
the airplane that flew above [Entebbe], joined us there. He came 
onto the plane, and he was the one who told us. He told me 
personally as I was sitting in Yoni's seat." 

Goren had been a last-minute replacement to join the assault 
team, replacing a soldier who had become ill on the flight to 
Sharm e-Sheikh. On the back of an airsickness bag, Yoni sketched 
for him the outline of the terminal and the assault routes, and 
clarified everybody's task. 

"While Yoni was explaining all this to me, we were informed that 
the government had given us the green light to carry on to 
Entebbe, that we were going to do it," Goren is quoted - in the 
afterword to the new edition of Yoni's book, written by the 
youngest Netanyahu brother, Iddo - as saying: "Yet he stayed 
completely calm... and went on explaining to me my job, as 
though we were going to perform an exercise." 

For those who knew Yoni - who had been with him on previous 
assault operations and who had known him in civilian life - it 
was hardly surprising. 

"Yoni didn't have to die to become a legend, because he was 
already a legend in his own lifetime," says brother Binyamin, 
known to Yoni and the family, since he was a child, by the 
nickname Bibi. "Those who knew him knew him as a commander in 
the army, knew him as an outstanding human being, knew of his 
many daring exploits, rescuing for example Yossi Ben-Hanan in 
the Yom Kippur War, or other brave actions, courageous actions 
that he took and succeeded in." 

Yoni Netanyahu, born March 13, 1946 - the 11th of Adar and the 
26th anniversary of the yahrzeit of Trumpeldor - was a leader 
from the very beginning, according to Meretz MK Naomi Chazan, 
a grade-school classmate of Yoni's in what was then called 
Hadarom School in Jerusalem, today named for Henrietta Szold. 

"He was definitely one of the leaders of the class," says Chazan, 
"and very competitive in sports - sports and hamesh avanim 
[the Israeli version of jacks], that's what we used to play. 
And soccer. We were buddies, we were friends, a whole bunch of 
us sort of hung out together. He definitely stood out, because 
he was good at what he did." 

Iddo also remembers Yoni as a leader, playing in their Jerusalem 
neighborhood of Katamon, "even with kids who were older than he. 
He was not a bully, however. Never. Although he did beat up kids 
who were thugs - he had no fear. He was also an outstanding 
athlete, a very, very good soccer player and runner. In high 
school in America, at Cheltenham High School [in Philadelphia], 
he was captain of the team. The coach said years later that 
Yoni could have been a professional soccer player. 

"There was no question he was a leader, you could sense it... 
But you could sense beyond that something else, something that 
really made him a remarkable person, beyond just being a leader. 
It's reflected in many ways in his letters." 

It is during his year and a half at Cheltenham High that the 
letters of Yoni Netanyahu begin. It is striking how mature and 
thoughtful he was even at the age of 17, a clear harbinger of 
what lay ahead. 

"But man does not live forever, and he should put the days of 
his life to the best possible use. He should try to live life to 
its fullest. How to do this I can't tell you. If I had a clear 
answer, I'd have half the solution to the puzzle called life. 
I only know that I don't want to reach a certain age, look 
around me and suddenly discover that I've created nothing, 
that I'm like all the other human beings who dash about like 
so many insects, back and forth, never accomplishing anything, 
endlessly repeating the routine of their existence only to 
descend to their graves, leaving behind them progeny that will 
merely repeat the same 'nothingness.'" - May 23, 1963 

He disliked being in America, where he had moved at age 17 with 
his family to enable his father to pursue his research in 
Jewish history. He longed to be back with his friends in Israel. 
But it made no difference in his studies, where he placed first 
in his class in math and history, and did well in other subjects 
while only spending, as he put it: "a sixth of the time studying 
that the average student does here." 

Upon graduation, Yoni left his parents, Benzion and Cela, and 
his brothers - Bibi, three years younger, and Iddo, six years 
younger - and returned to Israel to enlist in the army, 
volunteering for the toughest course, the paratroopers. 
The letter-writing continued, in snatches of time between drills, 
as he kept his family abreast of his development first as a 
superior soldier and thereafter as an outstanding officer. 

"Tonight I'm returning to the base. They say that from Wednesday 
to Saturday we'll have a march to 'get to know your personal 
equipment,' which means marching 25 miles a day. But that doesn't 
worry me. I've reached the conclusion that anything the army 
requires of a soldier, I can do." - September 8, 1964, - a few 
days into basic training 

Those earnest sentiments sound almost old-fashioned today, but 
they were, in fact, the very fiber around which Yoni's character 
was structured, according to his brothers. 

Not only was Yoni mature, says Bibi, "but he also subordinated 
his life to his ideals. Most people have convictions and ideals 
which they sort of keep in a drawer, and occasionally refer to 
them, but they don't really guide their actions on a day-to-day 
basis. In the case of Yoni, this was different. His ideals were 
paramount and guided the course of his life. 

"He understood the importance of defending Israel against those 
who would snuff out its life. He also understood the personal 
imperative that commanded him to offer his talent, and, at the 
end of the day, offer his life, to that great defense." 

"Since I am in the army and obliged to serve, I'm especially 
glad I chose the paratroopers. For if you want to extract all 
that is useful from the service in the way that seems right to 
me, you have to follow the most difficult road. And this is 
without a doubt the most difficult." - March 26, 1965 

According to Iddo, what distinguished Yoni "was that he had to 
be one with his actions and with his ideas. He didn't know how 
to bluff. If he believed, as many did in his age group, that we 
have to fight for our survival, then he carried these thoughts 
all the way to the end. This is what characterized him - that 
there was no dichotomy between his ideas and his actions. 
And this goes well beyond just going to the army. It carried 
over to his day-to-day living." 

Yoni's sense of patriotic purpose was not something he learned 
solely from his parents, says Iddo. "I really do not recall any 
atmosphere of indoctrination, whether it was political, or how 
to live life - it just didn't exist. I would say most of their 
instruction was by example. There were no sessions where they 
said: 'Listen, you have to do this,' 'You have to do that,' 
'This is important,' 'This is the Zionist ideal' - nothing. 
But definitely a patriotic sentiment and all that was there. 
It was part of our being, that's how we grew up. 

"So from that point of view, I would say yes, obviously he 
grew up in a Zionist home, a home that was active in the whole 
idea of the creation of the state. But he was really a 
self-contained person from the time that I was conscious of 
him as a child. A whole person unto himself. You could sense 
even as a child, that he was in many ways elevated. Not that 
he was haughty or anything like that, but a man who's different." 

After basic training came Officers' School, a challenge for 
which Yoni was equally prepared. Towards the end of the course 
the unit took part in sea maneuver training. 

"As a result of the wetness most of the soldiers got hard 
calluses, and the coarseness of our trousers as they rubbed 
against our bodies caused serious scuff-burns. Some just 
barely managed to walk, and it was evident that each step was 
torture. As for me, I enjoyed the whole thing. I suffered 
no pain or injury." -December 22, 1965 

Three weeks later, Yoni was chosen outstanding cadet, and at 
the graduation ceremony the chief-of-general-staff, Yitzhak 
Rabin, pinned the insignia on Yoni's uniform. 

After his discharge a year later, Yoni studied hard for the 
College Boards. 

"How do I spend my days? Well, I study mathematics a lot. 
Sometimes I can sit at the desk without stirring from eleven in 
the morning to seven at night. I don't even feel the time 
flitting by." - February 1, 1967 

In April of that year, he was accepted to Harvard. Then came 
the Six Day War, in which Yoni was wounded seriously on the 
Golan Heights four hours before it was over. 

He entered Harvard in the fall and did well, getting an "A" in 
math, "which isn't bad at all for Harvard," he wrote. By year's 
end he had made the honor list, finishing in the top 10 percent 
of his class with a near "A" average. But he was not happy 
there, having been overcome with a feeling of sadness, a "heavy 
emptiness," as he called it. 

"The real cause is the sense of helplessness in the face of a 
war that has no end. For the war has not ended, and it seems to 
me that it will go on and on. The June war was only one campaign. 
It's continuing right now, today, yesterday and tomorrow. It 
continues with every mine and killing and murder, with every 
explosion in Jerusalem and every shot in the north or the south. 
This is the 'quiet' before the next storm. I've no doubt that 
war will come. Nor do I doubt that we will win. But for how 
long? Until when? We can't wipe out the Arab people; they are 
too many and have too much support. Of course we shall go on 
striking them, again and again and again, and we shall be fully 
justified in delivering a more powerful blow each time. Knowing 
this makes us feel good, but the good feeling is mingled with 
sadness. We're young, and we were not born for wars alone. 
I intend to go on with my studies; I want to do so and I'm 
interested in doing so. But I can no longer see this as my main 
mission in life. Even if studying is the right thing - right for 
me and right for Israel - this isn't the important matter at 
this time. Deep within my being I'm convinced of this. Hence the 
sadness I referred to earlier, the sadness of young men destined 
for endless war. 

"I wanted you to know what I'm thinking about so that you may 
know me better, as I should like to know my own son." 
- August 17, 1968, letter to his parents 

His decision to leave Harvard and go back to the army was 
finalized. 

"In another week I'll be 23. Time flies, doesn't it? My years 
bear down on me with all their weight. Not as a load or a burden, 
but as the sum of all the long and short moments that have gone 
into them. On me, on us, the young men of Israel, rests the duty 
of keeping our country safe. This is a heavy responsibility, 
which matures us early. It seems that the young Israeli belongs 
to a special breed of men. It's hard to explain this, but it 
can be felt... In another week I'll be 23, and I do not regret 
what I have done and what I'm about to do. I'm convinced that 
what I am doing is right. I believe in myself, in my country and 
in my future. I also believe in my family. That's a great deal 
for a man my age who has already managed to feel very young and 
very old." - March 17, 1969 

"When he returned from the United States, after spending a year 
at Harvard, he wanted to rejoin the army, despite the fact that 
he had a war wound," says Bibi. "And when he looked at where to 
join the army, he decided to go where I went, which was at the 
time the cutting-edge of the battle against terrorism." 

For the remainder of his life he was a professional soldier, 
participating in numerous military operations, including in 
Jordan and Lebanon, some of which remain secret to this day. 

"In this country, at this moment, to be in the army is to be 
inside - doing, believing, knowing that, after all, my work 
does bring peace closer or, at least, saves lives and pushes 
back the threat of war from our gates." - May 3, 1970 

One operation he did not take part in was the storming of a 
hijacked Sabena airplane and the freeing of hostages in 1972. 
He desperately wanted to, but the unit commander, Ehud Barak, 
said no, because Bibi was taking part with his team, and the 
rules said two brothers could not take part in the same 
operation. 

"He wasn't too happy, not because I went, but because he 
couldn't go," recalls Bibi. "He said that he should go, 
that he's going to join the assault force. I said you can't, 
because I'm going in there with my own soldiers. He said, 
well then you stay out. I said I can't: They're my soldiers, 
I have to lead them. He said then we'll both go. I said that's 
not a very good idea, because what happens if both of us get 
killed - what about our parents?" 

Four years later, it was Yoni's turn to lead a more famous 
assault operation against terrorism. The maneuver was wildly 
successful, with only one military fatality: Yoni. 

From such stories legends are made, and from such operations 
folklore is fashioned. Couple that with 13 years of what 
amounts to a personal diary which reveals the delicate feelings 
of that dead soldier, and you have created a narrative that is 
larger than life, and a seminal moment in a country's history. 

"I think that his death at Entebbe marked a unique turning point 
in the world's battle against terrorism," says Bibi, "because 
after Entebbe, it was very difficult to argue that you had no 
choice but to surrender to terrorism." 

On a personal level, Bibi says, "There's practically not a day 
that goes by that I don't think of him, and think of what he 
would do, and this is a great source of spiritual uplifting, 
but also a great source of sorrow on occasion, when you think 
of what the country has missed in his death." 

Following Entebbe, the 27-year-old Bibi established the 
Jonathan Institute, which was devoted to the task of fighting 
the source of what took place at Entebbe, terrorism. 

"His death triggered a great cataclysm in all our lives, the 
lives of the family, but in the sense of a rededication, in my 
case it was primarily to advance the battle against terrorism. 
But I didn't see it then, nor do I see it now, as primarily a 
military battle of experts or technicians, but more a moral and 
political battle to at once delegitimize terrorists and expose 
the cant of their arguments that they are fighting for human 
rights. And secondly, to expose the governments and regimes 
that make terrorism possible, without whose active support and 
direction terrorism collapses. 

"This is what I wanted to do immediately after Yoni's death. 
We held several conferences; I published several books, widely 
read articles that had, according to Secretary of State [George] 
Shultz, a decisive impact on the United States under President 
Reagan. It contributed to their adoption of military means and 
other means - diplomatic and economic sanctions against Libya 
and other regimes - and this new approach brought an end to the 
rash of hijackings that had troubled the world. 

"From this activity, I ended up in diplomacy, and from diplomacy 
I got into politics. So you might say that Yoni's death triggered 
the process by which I ultimately ended up in politics, although 
I didn't have that intention consciously at the time." 

For Natan Sharansky and all the Jews in the Soviet Union 
struggling to be free, the raid on Entebbe was an inspiration. 
For him personally, the raid had added meaning as it took place 
on the second anniversary of his wedding. When his wife, Avital, 
called from Israel that day, she held the phone out of the window 
to let him hear the celebration going on in the street. 

"When I came to Israel [in 1986], it was the 10th anniversary of 
Entebbe, and Bibi invited me to speak at the grave. I said that 
when I was in prison, when I heard the engine of some airplane 
in Siberia, I immediately was thinking of Entebbe, and it gave me 
confidence that one day I would be released. Symbolically, I felt 
the power of Entebbe. It turned into such an important symbol for 
me and for Jews all over the world, that whatever will happen with 
you, if you are in trouble, Israel will do everything, and the 
day will come when the airplane will come and you will be saved. 
So the image of Israel as a society which is built to be concerned 
about the saving of Jews, that every Jew who is in danger will be 
saved by Israel, had a very symbolic and powerful meaning." 

Yoni himself, Sharansky says, is the individual symbol of that 
event, "at the same time Superman and at the same time very human 
and one of us. He became the symbol of this unique role of Israel 
for us, for Jews, who were fighting for our freedom and for our 
lives in the Soviet Union. It was almost like an epochal, 
biblical hero, but at the same time a living person, one of us, 
and you could be one of them. This immediate connection was very 
powerful." 

For Steve Leibowitz, a producer and senior editor at the Israel 
Broadcasting Authority's English news, the raid on Entebbe was 
so compelling a moment that he immediately decided to name his 
first son Yoni. 

"Entebbe was such an important thing for all of us," says 
Leibowitz. "I had come on aliya before that, in 1974, and was 
in the US doing my masters degree when Entebbe happened. I was 
already involved in Israel emotionally, I was very big supporter 
of the IDF, and of believing that Israel had to be strong 
militarily, so when this happened, and there was a victim, 
to me he was a hero. And I decided at that time - and this was 
two years before I was married, I didn't even know who my wife 
would be - that if and when I would have a son, he would be named 
after Yoni Netanyahu. 

"I felt that it was more important to me - and I continue to feel 
that way - that I would rather name my kids after current Zionist 
heroes than after family members. Yoni will remain with us as a 
story that is even bigger than the man was. His entire history was 
a very short history, in terms of his military operations, or his 
military prowess, or what he was actually involved in. But that 
story is a story that will live on in a way that the Trumpeldor 
story lives on. He's a modern-day Trumpeldor." 

Leibowitz's son Yonatan, 22, says it is "an honor being named 
after a person who died saving lives. He had a very deep 
understanding of people. He could very easily find the special 
unique parts of people he fought with and was friends with. 
Even though it was the middle of a war, and you don't get a 
chance to know people, he really made it a point to know 
everyone around him on a very personal level. 

"He was very deep, very loving. In the letters that he wrote to 
his family, you can definitely see that. Everybody should be 
writing to their family with that much love. Yes, I would say 
there is some demands that come with the name." 

In a poll of 500 Israelis released this week by the Association 
for Commemorating the Memory and Legacy of Lt.-Col Yonatan 
Netanyahu, a nonprofit organization, 30 percent of the Israeli 
public did not know what Operation Yonatan was, but 89 percent 
were familiar with the name Yoni Netanyahu. Of those, 46 percent 
knew he was the person killed in Entebbe, and only 14 percent 
knew he was the commander of the rescue force. Most telling of 
all, of those familiar with the name, 71 percent knew him as 
Bibi's brother. 

It is that association that perhaps is the reason why Yoni has 
fallen from grace in certain circles of left-wing Israeli 
society. 

"They have this feeling of reflected glory, that if Bibi rose to 
the top, he only rose because he was the brother of Yoni," says 
Iddo. "So if you tarnish Yoni, then you tarnish Bibi. But I wish 
the attacks on Yoni were only because of that. It's much deeper 
than that. Because what Yoni represents is Zionism, a willingness 
to fight, a realistic view of life here, and the idea that if you 
are not willing to sacrifice your life, you're not going to have 
a country. And that is the main reason why he was attacked. 

"For the same reason, they tried to tarnish Trumpeldor, or Hanna 
Szenes, or other people like that - and Hanna Szenes certainly 
was on the left, not on the right - but they all represent a 
kind of thinking that is so alien to the post-Zionist way of 
thinking, and Yoni, being sort of the last of the line of these 
great heroes, maybe got more than his share and certainly more 
than they got, in terms of the attacks on him. 

"I wish it were only because of politics and the hatred toward 
Bibi, because that would mean at least things ideologically, 
if not morally, aren't that bad. Unfortunately, it's much 
deeper than that." 

Indeed, Bibi has been accused by critics of using Yoni's name 
to excess to help further his political career, but the former 
prime minister dismisses such attacks, saying he has mentioned 
Yoni's name "very seldom, and not often enough, I think. He's 
a great example, and I'm very proud of him, and I should mention 
him a lot more. In fact I don't use his name - this is a very 
uncommon interview. I've avoided injecting myself personally in 
any of this, and the number of interviews I've given about Yoni 
over the years is less than the number of fingers on one hand." 

Bibi acknowledges that Yoni's name became political fodder, a 
target for those trying to shoot down his own political career, 
but that "relatively speaking, there wasn't that much of it, 
because I think there are natural limits to what one can do and 
how far one can go, although some people have no limits." 

That reference might have included former prime minister Ehud 
Barak. In a stormy Knesset session in June 1997 over the 
Tze'elim-2 accident, Barak, then opposition leader, was attacked 
by then-justice minister Tzahi Hanegbi for allegedly fleeing 
the scene and leaving wounded soldiers behind. 

When Bibi failed to denounce Hanegbi's attack, Barak rose and 
said: "I knew another Netanyahu, too, a comrade and a real 
warrior, and together we rescued wounded soldiers. That was 
Yoni Netanyahu. I tell you, Bibi, he would have been ashamed of 
you today." 

Bibi refuses to discuss the incident. "I think it doesn't even 
merit a discussion. I dismiss it because, as the British say, 
'It's not done.' I can say that it's an abysmal thing." 

Adds Iddo, "although Bibi didn't express it, there's no question 
that this hurt him very deeply." 

Despite how Yoni's name has been misused and abused, he remains 
for many the hero with a message. "I believe that there is a 
change in the country now," says Bibi, "and a seeking, an 
eagerness, to examine our traditional values and the justice 
of Zionism, and the sacrifices made for Zionism. I think that 
in that sense there's a natural turn towards Yoni's story." 

And not just his story, but his message as well, still resonate 
all these years later. "That's right," says Bibi, "a lot of his 
prognostications apply to today as though the situation did not 
change." 

"What now? I have a definite idea on what ought to be done, 
but I'm not sure the present government is quite clear about 
where we're going. The war has finally brought a change of mind 
to a large section of the public, and this shift in thinking 
is all to the good. How far it has spread to the nation at 
large is hard to say, but we'll soon know - elections at the 
end of December. In any case, I see with sorrow and great anger 
how a part of the people still clings to hopes of reaching a 
peaceful settlement with the Arabs. Common sense tells them, 
too, that the Arabs haven't abandoned their basic aim of 
destroying the State; but the self-delusion and self-deception 
that have always plagued the Jews are at work again. It's our 
great misfortune. They want to believe, so they believe. 
They want not to see, so they shut their eyes. They want not 
to learn from thousands of years of history, so they distort it. 
They want to bring about a sacrifice, and they do indeed. 
It would be comic, if it wasn't so tragic. What a saddening and 
irritating lot this Jewish people is!" - November 17, 1973 

"The objective facts of our life here - and that's the amazing 
thing - have not changed one iota since he wrote this," says 
Iddo. "Nothing has changed. Zero. In terms of a fight for 
survival, the basic conflict has not gone away. So I think the
letters are relevant, as much today as 25 years ago when he died.
Because these letters are strong - objectively it's a powerful,
powerful document of a certain period, a certain time. That they
might be less appealing to some people? Absolutely. Will they
always have a hold on some people? No question in my mind, they do.
And I don't think that's going to change. What's going to change
is how society in general views his ideas."

The book, which has never been out of print, is being reissued in
the 18th edition in Hebrew, a third edition in English (by Gefen
Publishing House), and will be published in Russian in a couple of
months. It is part of that growing awareness of Yoni, which includes
a new play for young adults called Yoni, a new song called "A letter
from Yoni" by Ehud Manor, sung by Rami Kleinstein, and the making
of the documentary broadcast for the first time this week.

"Even people who are not connected to Judaism, even non-Jews, will
find in Yoni a very interesting human being," says Walter Soriano,
the documentary's producer. "In a universal way, even to the
non-Jews, Yoni is a very strong character, because of his different
sides. Through this very strong and very interesting character,
he makes you understand how the Jew in him makes him do what he
did, coming back from Harvard to go to the army."

Soriano doesn't believe in happenstance, and considers that Yoni's
death in Entebbe summarized his entire life."Yoni's whole life
was saving people, and sacrificing himself for people. That points
out what his life was about."

"Death - that's the only thing that disturbs me. It doesn't
frighten me; it arouses my curiosity. It is a puzzle that I,
like many others, have tried to solve without success. I do not
fear it because I attribute little value to a life without a
purpose. And if I should have to sacrifice my life to attain
its goal, I'll do so willingly." - May 23, 1963, age 17