Introduction: The fifteen or so pages of text that make up Chapter 6 of Paul Findley’s 1985 book on the Jewish lobby in the United States — They Dare to Speak Out — contain for students of pressure politics an important case study of cover-up and of intimidation. The chapter 6 the evidently deliberate Israeli attack on the American Navy ship the USS Liberty in June of 1967, and its extraordinary aftermath.

They Dare to Speak Out by Paul Findley Lawrence Hill & Company, Westport, Connecticut, 1985, pp. 165-179 [see Part II ] Part I Chapter 6 The Assault on “Assault” LTHOUGH Israel’s lobby seems able at will to penetrate our nation’s strongest defenses in order to gain the secret information it wishes, when the lobby’s objective is keeping such information secret, our defenses suddenly become impenetrable. After seventeen years, James M. Ennes Jr ., a retired officer of the U.S.

Navy, is still having difficulty prying loose documents which shed light on the worst peacetime disaster in the history of our Navy. In this quest, he has encountered resistance by the Department of Defense, the Anti-Defamation League of B’nai B’rith, the American Israel Public Affairs Committee, the book publishing industry, the news media, and the Israeli Foreign Ministry.

The resistance, seemingly coordinated on an international scale , is especially perplexing because Ennes’ goal is public awareness of an episode of heroism and tragedy at sea which is without precedent in American history. As the result of a program of concealment supported by successive governments in both Israel and the United States, hardly anyone remembers the miraculous survival of the USS Liberty after a devastating assault by Israeli forces

on June 8, 1967, left 34 sailors dead, 171 injured, and the damaged ship adrift with no power, rudder or means of communication. The sustained courage of Captain William L. McGonagle and his crew in these desperate circumstances earned the Liberty a place of honor in the annals of the U.S. Navy. [ Obituary of McGonagle ] But, despite energetic endeavors, including those of Ennes, McGonagle’s officer of the deck that day, the entries remain dim and obscure.

Ennes’s stirring book-length account of the attack, Assault on the Liberty , itself continues to be under heavy assault five years after publication. The episode and its aftermath were so incredible that Admiral Thomas L. Moorer, who became chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff a month after the attack, observes, “If it was written as fiction, nobody would believe it.” Certain facts are clear. The attack was no accident.

The Liberty was assaulted in broad daylight by Israeli forces who knew the ship’s identity. The Liberty, an intelligence-gathering ship, had no combat capability and carried only light machine guns for defense. A steady breeze made its U.S. flag easily visible. The assault occurred over a period of nearly two hours-first by air, then torpedo boat. The ferocity of the attacks left no doubt: the Israeli forces wanted the ship and its crew destroyed. The public, however, was kept in the dark.

Even before the American public learned of the attack, U.S. government officials began to promote an account satisfactory to Israel. The American Israel Public Affairs Committee worked through Congressmen to keep the story under control. The President of the United States, Lyndon B. Johnson , ordered and led a cover-up so thorough that sixteen years after he left office, the episode was still largely unknown to the public — and the men who suffered and died have gone largely unhonored.

The day of the attack began in routine fashion, with the ship first proceeding slowly in an easterly direction in the eastern Mediterranean, later following the contour of the coastline westerly about fifteen miles off the Sinai Peninsula. On the mainland, Israeli forces were winning smashing victories in the third Arab-Israeli war in nineteen years.

Israeli Chief of Staff Yitzhak Rabin , announcing that the Israelis had taken the entire Sinai and broken the blockade on the Strait of Tiran, declared: “The Egyptians are defeated.” On the eastern front the Israelis had overcome Jordanian forces and captured most of the West Bank. At 6 a.m. an airplane, identified by the Liberty crew as an Israeli Noratlas, circled the ship slowly and departed. This procedure was repeated periodically over an eight-hour period.

At 9 a.m. a jet appeared at a distance, then left. At 10 a.m., two rocket-armed jets circled the ship three times. They were close enough for their pilots to be observed through binoculars. The planes were unmarked. An hour later the Israeli Noraltas returned, flying not more than 200 feet directly above the Liberty and clearly marked with the Star of David. The ship’s crew members and the pilot waved at each other. This plane returned every few minutes until 1 p.m.

By then, the ship had changed course and was proceeding almost due west. At 2:00 p.m. all hell broke loose. Three Mirage fighter planes headed straight for the Liberty, their rockets taking out the forward machine guns and wrecking the ship’s antennae. The Mirages were joined by Mystère fighters, which dropped napalm on the bridge and deck and repeatedly strafed the ship. The attack continued for over 20 minutes. In all, the ship sustained 821 holes in her sides and decks.

Of these, more than 100 were rocket size. As the aircraft departed, three torpedo boats took over the attack, firing five torpedoes, one of which tore a 40-foot hole in the hull, killing 25 sailors. The ship was in flames, dead in the water, listing precariously, and taking water. The crew was ordered to prepare to abandon ship. As iife-rafts were lowered into the water, the torpedo boats moved closer and shot them to pieces. One boat concentrated machine-gun fire on rafts still

on deck as crew members there tried to extinguish the napalm fires. Petty Officer Charles Rowley declares, “They didn’t want anyone to live.” At 3:15 p.m. the last shot was fired, leaving the vessel a combination morgue and hospital. The ship had no engines, no power, no rudder. Fearing further attack, Captain McGonagle, despite severe leg injuries, stayed at the bridge.

An Israeli helicopter, its open bay door showing troops in battle gear and a machine gun mounted in an open doorway, passed close to the deck, then left. Other aircraft came and went during the next hour. Although U.S. air support never arrived, within fifteen minutes of the first attack and more than an hour before the assault ended, fighter planes from the USS Saratoga were in the air ready for a rescue mission under orders “to destroy or drive off any attackers.”

The carrier was only 30 minutes away, and, with a squadron of fighter planes

on deck ready for a routine operation, it was prepared to respond almost instantly. But the rescue never occurred. Without approval by Washington, the planes could not take aggressive action, even to rescue a U.S. ship confirmed to be under attack. Admiral Donald Fagen , then captain of the America, the second U.S. carrier in the vicinity, later explained: “President Johnson had very strict control. Even though we knew the Liberty was under attack, I couldn’t just go and order a rescue.”

The planes were hardly in the air when the voice of Secretary of Defense Robert S. McNamara was heard over Sixth Fleet radios: “Tell the Sixth Fleet to get those aircraft back immediately.” They were to have no part in destroying or driving off the attackers. Shortly after 3 p.m., nearly an hour after the Liberty ‘s plea was first heard, the White House gave momentary approval to a rescue mission and planes from both carriers were launched.

At almost precisely the same instant, the Israeli government informed the U.S. naval attaché, in Tel Aviv that its forces had “erroneously attacked a U.S. ship” after mistaking it for an Egyptian vessel, and offered “abject apologies.” With apology in hand, Johnson once again ordered U.S. aircraft