I resigned inside the hour; my letter to the Minister of War, General Muhammad Fawziy, was frank. With 'Isma`iyl as Chief of Staff and myself as Commander of the Special Forces, our old tactic of avoiding each other would be impossible; yet we could never work together. Then I went home. On the third day, as the last in a procession of visitors all trying in vain to make me change my mind, President Nasir sent his son-in-law, Ashraf Marwan, with a personal message: "President Nasir takes your resignation as an act of criticism of him personally. It was he who appointed Ismail." I told Marwan what I thought of 'Isma`iyl , repeated my view that I could not work with the man, but offered my assurance that my action was in no way intended as a criticism of the President. Marwan departed. A few hours later he returned. The President quite understands your view," he said. "He asks you to return to work on his personal assurance that General 'Isma`iyl will never tread on your toes."

I went back to work-and, I have to say, President Nasir kept his promise. 'Isma`iyl never even visited my special forces base at Inshas. No doubt in time we would have clashed. But 'Isma`iyl only lasted six months. On September 9, 1969, an enemy seaborne force raided the northern sector of our Red Sea District, remaining ashore for almost a day while 'Isma`iyl was all but unaware of their presence. Nasir fired him a second time. 

For Sadat, searching for supporters among the military in the wake of his seizure of power in May 1971, 'Isma`iyl `Aliy was thus an obvious choice. He hated Nasir. After Sadat plucked him from retirement on May 15, 1971, to become the new head of the National Intelligence Service, he identified wholly with Sadat. Now, as a replacement for Sadiq, 'Isma`iylhad even greater attractions. It could only add to Sadat's security.

Sadiq, as I said, had been one of the three key men behind Sadat's coup. He had always believed that in consequence he should have a real share of power. He would, for instance, give his views frankly and publicly even if they contradicted Sadat's. And Sadiq was popular with the troops-improving salaries and pensions, decorations, trips abroad, money and privileges for his entourage, the usual ways of courting popularity. In return he demanded and got total loyalty. To Sadat, still seeking to establish himself as an absolute ruler, Sadiq must have seemed a threat.

General Ahmed 'Isma`iyl `Aliy had no such potential. He was a weak man, alternating between submissiveness and bullying. His second dismissal in September 1969 had affected him deeply. He was more indecisive than ever. He shunned the responsibility of decisions, preferring to receive orders rather than give them. He was thoroughly unpopular with the troops, not surprisingly since his manner was uniformly brusque; and while caring nothing for the personal problems of those around him, he was a fairly devoted believer in nepotism when it came to his own family or the families of those who might help him. Such unpopularity was another virtue in Sadat's eyes. So, of course, was the fact that he and the Chief of Staff were at loggerheads. (Sadat is a firm believer in divide-and-rule.)

The unforgivable point is that 'Isma`iyl `Aliy was also a dying man. And President Sadat knew it.  'Isma`iyl had cancer. After it killed him in December 1974, the autopsy report by the English doctors who had treated him stated that the cancer had been active for at least three years. (I saw the report as Ambassador in London.) So the disease was killing 'Isma`iyl for at least a year before Sadat appointed him Minister of War and Commander in-Chief. And Sadat has confessed he knew. In a speech in 1977, Sadat said he knew of 'Isma`iyl's illness before and during the October War and had been told by doctors that 'Isma`iyl was a very sick man incapable of making decisions.

That raises horrifying questions. Why did Sadat appoint a sick man at that most critical time? Could it be that he put his own ends above the vital interests of his country?

I regret writing about him as I do. But the truth must be told. 'Isma`iyl was unfit for his job; and his weakness had terrible consequences for his country. The wickedness lies in the man who appointed and then manipulated 'Isma`iyl, knowing as he did that 'Isma`iyl was a dying man.

As it happened, in the 11 months we worked together before the war, 'Isma`iyl and I differed little. We were both trying hard. Besides, there was little to differ about. Our plans had been laid. Of course we updated them constantly as information flowed in about the enemy or new units of our own became operational. But the core remained. In departmental matters, 'Isma`iyl continued to control the Defense Intelligence Department and the Officers Department; but he did allow me a hand in the Finance Department. In private he never tried to hide his dislike of me, but he never attacked me in public. We got along.

During the war itself, things were very different, as we shall see. But again the fault was Sadat's. Afterwards, of course, Isma`iyl played his part in Sadat's campaign to discredit me. A British historian who had a long interview with 'Isma`iyl after the war came to see me subsequently at the London Embassy and recounted how he had been advised not to mention my name in  'Isma`iyl's hearing. But it proved impossible to talk sensibly about the war without doing so. Visibly upset, 'Isma`iyl had suddenly poured out his dislike of me, amounting almost to hatred.

Yet at the end he felt guilty about that. In a last attempt to arrest his cancer, 'Isma`iyl went to the Wellington private hospital in London in 1974. I visited him there. He knew he was going to die. Suddenly he said: "I know you have been the target of savage and unfair attack. It was always the President who wanted that. Even when we were making a documentary about the war the President ordered that your name and photograph be eliminated. I want you to know that I said to him: `General Shazliy is part of history. We cannot just ignore him . . . .'" I calmed him. I talked of God knowing the facts, and knowing what was in our hearts, the things one says to a dying man. Then I left, contemplating what men will do for even transient power, and mentally rehearsing prayers that I be spared the temptation.
 

IN WAR THE RESULT IS NEVER FINAL The ultimate outcome of a war is not always to be regarded as final. The defeated state often considers the outcome merely as a transitory evil, for which a remedy may still be found in political conditions at some later date. It is obvious how this, too, can slacken tension and reduce the vigor of the effort. THE PROBABILITIES OF REAL LIFE REPLACE THE EXTREME AND THE ABSOLUTE REQUIRED BY THEORY Warfare thus eludes the strict theoretical requirement that extremes of force be applied. Once the extreme is no longer feared or aimed at, it becomes a matter of judgment what degree of effort should be made; and this can only be based on the phenomena of the real world and the laws of probability. Once the antagonists have ceased to be mere figments of a theory and; become actual states and governments,   when war is no longer a theoretical. affair but a series of actions obeying its own peculiar laws, reality supplies the data from which we can deduce the unknown that lies ahead. From the enemy's character, from his institutions, the state of his affair and his general situation, each side, using the laws of probability, forms and estimate of its opponent's likely course and acts accordingly     Carl Von Clausewitz; Prussian Military Philosopher