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Vanunu: my story
Vanunu interview, Sunday
Times (London)
30 May 04
THE INTERVIEW
Eighteen years after he was kidnapped and jailed for revealing
Israel's nuclear bomb to the world, Mordechai Vanunu has given his
first interview, reliving the terror of his abduction and the anguish
of solitary confinement, which he suffered for more than a decade.
Under the terms of his release from prison, he spoke to an Israeli
journalist, Yael Lotan, as he is barred from talking to foreigners.
The former technician
at Dimona, Israel's nuclear centre in the Negev desert, vividly remembers
the events of September 1986, after he had
given his story to The Sunday
Times. Growing increasingly frustrated
as the newspaper checked out his disclosures before publication, he
feared that Mossad, the Israeli intelligence service, was closing in.
Yet when the net was cast in a street in London's West End he fell
into it.
When I arrived in London I thought to myself: be careful, don't
engage or try to find any woman. But after two or three weeks I got
interested in one. It was a honey trap. She was standing at a place
to buy cigarettes when I saw her. She looked like a very nice woman,
American, a little bit of a beauty, not tall or short, blonde hair.
We both walked on and came to a crossroads, where she stopped and I
spoke to her. After crossing the street she went in one direction and
I went in another, but after 50 yards I asked myself if she was
interested in me. Go and ask her what she wants, I said to myself.
I caught up with her and
asked her: who are you and what are you doing? We started talking. I was
suspicious, and I asked her if she
was a Mossad spy. "Oh no, no," she replied. "What is Mossad?"
She asked me my name. I said George, because that was the name I had
registered under at the hotel - George Foresty.
"Oh you're not George," she
replied.
So I told her who I really was and what I was doing in London.
I felt it was not about betraying Israel; it was about saving Israel
from a new holocaust, because if they used nuclear weapons then their
enemies would retaliate. By publishing Israel's nuclear secrets, the
fact that Israel has nuclear weapons, you are preventing them from
using them, because all the world will know and no one will let them
use them.
My point was to bring the subject to the public, to open debate in
Israel too, and to prevent any future war and make it very clear that
war is not the way to solve problems - you have to solve the problem
by peace.
Cindy - that was her name - said she was a tourist from Philadelphia,
26 years old. She was working as a beautician, and her father was a
writer and her mother also a writer. Her parents were divorced.
When I told her about the
delays by The Sunday Times she told me: " Come with me to New York,
and I will help you with lawyers and good newspapers."
We started meeting day after day. We went to the cinema and saw a
film, Witness, about a child who saw a murder case, and we went to a
play, 42nd Street.
The Sunday Times knew I
had found this woman. Peter Hounam, my main contact on the paper, told me
many times: "Be careful, I don't trust
her." Everyone was warning me, but I didn't understand why I should
be suspicious of her. She was good company and affectionate. She used
to kiss me a lot - all the time.
So another Sunday came and The Sunday
Times still didn't publish the
story. Cindy said she was going to Rome to visit her sister, and she
wanted me to go with her.
I said no, but I changed my mind. I thought the Mossad was looking
for me in London. If I went to Rome they would lose me, and I would
come back to London after a few days. I decided not to tell Peter or
the others on the newspaper.
She bought the tickets. We met in Victoria station and from there we
took a taxi to the airport. I was not suspicious, nothing at all. I
never suspected her because I was sure that if they wanted to kidnap
me or do something they could do it in London. At that time I didn't
understand that Italy was an open state. During the cold war many
people were kidnapped there, and there were many spy games there.
London was a harder place for Israel to act.
We landed in Rome, where she said her sister and a friend would meet
us. Instead I saw an Italian with flowers coming towards us. We got
into his car and he started driving us towards Rome very fast. We sat
in the back. She diverted my attention with a lot of kissing until we
reached a small house, not in Rome but maybe in a suburb.
As I followed her into the house two people jumped on me. They were
behind the door; I didn't see them. One hit me in the stomach and, as
I bent over, they got me to the ground and shut my mouth. A woman
injected me. Cindy had disappeared.
I lost consciousness. I awoke on a large bed in my underwear. One man
was on the left and the woman was on the other side trying to inject
me. They couldn't find a vein. I pointed out the vein in the crook of
my right arm. We didn't speak at all; I just pointed with my finger,
no language.
They injected me again. I passed out once more. When I awoke they
gave me my clothes, but I was drugged. I could walk and see, but I
was not in control.
We left the house and returned to the car. I sat in the back between
the two men. The woman who had injected me was in the front with the
driver. Through the fog of the drug I decided that, when I woke up, I
would try to cause some trouble. Maybe people who saw us fighting
would try to stop the car.
After 20 minutes or half
an hour I could feel the drug wearing off. The car came to a small village.
When the driver started slowing down
I jumped on him and tried to stop the car by causing an
accident. Immediately the two men jumped on me; one hit me in the
stomach again. I started shouting for help but one of the men said in
Hebrew to the woman: "Inject him twice."
"It is very dangerous," she
said.
"Do it."
She injected me and I passed out. I regained consciousness again when
I felt the car driving over pebbles. The car stopped and I saw sea
and a yacht, and a small commando boat coming towards us. It was
night time.
From the commando boat
six Israeli soldiers appeared. They put me on a stretcher, took me to the
commando boat and ferried me to the
yacht. I heard someone shouting in Hebrew: "Put him in the deputy's
cabin."
In the morning I found myself chained by my hands and legs, and by
another chain to the bed. When they brought me breakfast I told them
to undo the chains so I could eat. They refused. I did not eat for 48
hours.
After two days I started
eating and asked them: "Who are you? Where
is this ship going? I want to meet the chief of this ship."
One said: "I am the chief." He said: "We here are French people,
English and Israeli." But I was seven days on this boat and only saw
three people - the two men who were with me in the car and the woman
who injected me.
One was Israeli but we spoke in English. The other one was a
Frenchman, not understanding English. I spoke to him a few words
because I knew French. He had a scar on his left hand, maybe damaged
in some activity or burnt. They didn't inject me any more. They even
gave me a book I had in my bag, The History of Western Philosophy by
Bertrand Russell.
The ship took seven days to get back to Israel. In my view they
didn't know what they were going to do. Maybe they were just sailing
around, waiting to see if The Sunday Times would publish the article.
I was also wondering what the paper would do. Were they going to
publish it or not? I didn't know what would happen. Was this
suffering going to be worth it?
[The Sunday Times had
no idea that he had been kidnapped. While Hounam tried repeatedly to contact
him, the newspaper completed its
checks on the story and decided to go ahead and publish.]
On the Saturday night I felt the boat make a U-turn and get under
way. Perhaps that was when The Sunday Times published the article,
and they decided to bring me to Israel. We arrived at a beach, I
think at Caesarea between Tel Aviv and Haifa - at least I saw the
Roman wall there on the beach.
Two officers of Shin Beth [the Israeli security service] came to the
boat, handcuffed me and took me away by stretcher.
They put me in a car, on the floor. The two men sat on the seats and
started talking to me. One of them told me to thank God I was still
alive. I don't know if he wanted to frighten me. They asked what The
Sunday Times had given me. How much money had I received? (None.) Why
had I become a Christian? I told them I didn't want to answer any
questions without my lawyer.
We drove straight from
the beach to Ashkelon prison where I was taken before a Shin Beth investigator.
After a few minutes he put The
Sunday Times on the table and said: "Look what you did."
The Sunday Times had at last published my revelations. At first I was
very happy to see that I had succeeded. My mission was accomplished.
Details would be in the papers all over the world. On the other hand,
I knew they could take revenge against me.
I was kept in a very secret part of the prison. Nobody knew about me.
They kept me for five days in a small cell without windows, only a
mattress and nothing else. They didn't let me go outside to walk or
see the sky.
The interrogation lasted only three days because I confirmed what I
had done and why. I said I wanted to inform all the people of the
Middle East, Arabs and Israelis, that Israel was producing nuclear
weapons. I wanted them to know, and to prevent the future use of
nuclear weapons.
They brought a nuclear scientist with whom I had worked at Dimona. We
sat down and I decided to tell him everything I had published in the
hope that I would make it clear to them that these secrets were out.
He wanted to know what else I had told The Sunday Times, and I told
him everything.
After one week in the prison I told the Shin Beth I wanted to meet a
priest. That made them more angry and they started laughing and
making me angry. I made it clear I was going to keep my Christianity.
I asked for the Mezuzah [the religious symbol attached to the
doorpost of Jewish homes] to be taken from my cell doorway.
They did not let me meet
a lawyer for two weeks, and it was about five weeks before a judge forced
them to admit they had me in
custody. Since the kidnapping nobody had known where I was. They had
wanted to keep me under "administrative arrest", which would have
meant they could keep me in silence for one or two years. Now that it
was out in the open that I was in Israel, I was moved from Shin
Beth's hands to the main prison.
The Israeli public had no idea what had happened to me, so I decided
to try to publicise my kidnapping. I wrote about it on my hand the
first time I went to court, but then I thought there might be no
journalists to see it so I erased it. It turned out that there were
reporters there, so I wrote the message again on my next visit to
court. On my palm I wrote that they had hijacked me in Rome, and on
the underside of my fingers I wrote that Israel has plutonium,
lithium, tritium, all the materials I told The Sunday Times about.
But then I thought it was too much and would make them angry so I
deleted it and left only the kidnapping message.
The prison guard checked but didn't realise there was anything. When
I came to the court I pressed my hand to the window of the prison van
and the journalists were surprised. They didn't know what was going
on.The manager of the prison got very upset. Before going to court I
had asked him to give me a pen. So he thought I had used it to write
the message. I told him I hadn't. The prison authorities became very
angry. They decided that every time I was going to the court to put a
helmet on my head, a crash helmet. They shackled my hands to guards.
I thought I would die without air in the helmet. I raised this in the
court to the judge many times, but he didn't support me.
The first time I went to the court I had grown a beard. I then
shaved, and they tried to get me to grow it again by not giving me a
razor. They said I could use it to commit suicide, but it was really
to force me to grow a beard. According to their psychology, if you
grow a beard and cover your head you will become a rabbi. The people
who saw me outside would think I was a Jewish man, a rabbi.
YL: You spent such
a large chunk of your life behind closed doors and the first 11½ years
in solitary confinement. How does one survive that?
I was charged with aggravated espionage and high treason. I was very
disappointed and angry. I was not a traitor; I did not go to any
enemy with my information. I didn't receive orders from any spy
organisation. I didn't work as a spy. So I felt they just wanted to
take revenge and to punish me as much as they could.
To move from being a free
man, walking in the streets of London, to finding oneself in a cell is a
huge fall - like falling from a very
high building to the ground. You lose everything. But my case was
also special. They put a lot of restrictions on me from the
beginning. It was very hard to be alone - not to speak to anyone, to
be under these restrictions. I decided I should do everything I could
to keep my sanity. I told myself in the first days: "Whatever I do, I
shall get out of this prison as strong in mind and body as I am now."
I gave myself another mission target, which was to survive. I dealt
with any problem I faced in this situation. For example, I saw in the
first few days that I could not speak with anyone. So I decided that
I could speak by reading. I used to take the Bible in English to read
it in a loud voice, or I prayed in a loud voice, or I was singing,
humming. I decided to continue learning English, to listen to the
BBC. I received a radio and used to receive the BBC World Service. I
was already a vegetarian and decided to continue with this: to eat
eggs but not meat. Also doing exercises in my cell.
Ashkelon prison had only Palestinian prisoners at that time. There
were 600. I would walk in the courtyard when they were back in their
cells. When I went through their sections to the courtyard I would
see them in their cells and they would ask how I was. They used to
leave me some tea and coffee and sent me some baklava each Ramadan.
They gave it to the manager and the manager would bring it to me. So
we established a very good relationship but we had no contact.
Most of the time my aim was to be alert. I was afraid that I would be
under psychological brainwashing - that they could change my mind,
put some new idea, a little idea here or there. So for 24 hours a day
I was alert for what was happening and suspecting anything. That was
my way to survive. The cell was about two metres by three metres,
with a shower place and toilet there. It was in a part of the prison
where many guards were coming and going - a lot of noise every night.
It was a very narrow, small cell without air. The air only came from
the window into the corridor. It had no other window to let in fresh
air.
You had nothing to do every day, for 24 hours you were alone. You
cannot go anywhere; you cannot come back. The first time you confront
this situation is that you wake up in the morning at eight o'clock.
You put on your clothes and shoes and you are not going anywhere. You
are sitting on the bed eating your breakfast, and you realise your
body cannot go.
Your mind does not understand this situation; it takes a long time to
cope. You are wearing your clothes and shoes and not going anywhere,
just sitting on the bed trying to read.
When I started a hunger strike it convinced the manager of the prison
that I was going to commit suicide, so they wanted to protect me from
myself by watching. They put a light on in my cell for 24 hours a day
for two years. I could not sleep well with a light on all night and
with a camera watching. After the light was turned off the games of
the Shin Beth continued. It they wanted to disturb my sleeping,
sometimes they sent a guard to check me every half hour - to come
with a light to see if I was there, or if I had run away or would
commit suicide. Disturbing sleep is one of the big ways of damaging
the human mind.
We presented many petitions to the court about these conditions but
Israel continued to demand I be in solitary confinement.
YL: Did you know your brother Meir was mounting an international campaign?
Yes. I received a lot of support and mail and information from him
and others telling me what was going on. But it was very difficult.
All that mail and support is no substitute for freedom - to walk free
or see flowers, or eat as a human being, to speak to a human being.
After 11-1/2 years in solitary confinement your life is very
difficult. You forget the past. Your brain is empty of all the images
you have of the past. Watching only walls all day can damage the
brain. I was very close to suffering damage to my senses, my reality.
Shin Beth and Mossad use a lot of psychology, very sophisticated
brainwashing to destroy a man and damage his mind. They even cause
damage by food. They know you are alone and you have no substitute
for freedom, so they send you a lot of food to eat. When you are
alone in the cell you can satisfy your anger by eating a lot of
bread, eggs, cheese, fat, chocolate.
They send things that could destroy your health in the hope you get a
heart attack or some other illness.
I noticed all this. Everything
was under my suspicion. I survived by questioning why they did this or said
that. But in spite of all my
attempts to fight back, the lack of open space and fresh air was
damaging my health. So they decided they couldn't keep me like this
for 18 years. After 11½ years and two-thirds of my sentence, they
decided I should be free to walk outside in the general prison area.
That was my first feeling of freedom, freedom to go outside to see
flowers, to see green and just to walk. Not just going round and
round in the courtyard.
Now I could go 200 metres with no one stopping me. That is a good
feeling. To see the sky. Smell the air and hear the birds. See people
walking. I was not yet free but my body had at least become free.
The criminals were now there. I didn't have good contact with them
because all of them were Jewish Zionists. When they are in prison
those drug users and criminals become very patriotic, anti-Vanunu,
anti-Arab. I had many arguments with them in the beginning. Later I
decided it was not worth talking to them and I isolated myself from
most of them. A few were very friendly and tried to support me. Two
or three brought me food and things like that.
I never imagined I would spend almost the whole sentence in prison. I
always believed that next day, next month, next year I was going to
be free. I didn't accept I was a spy sentenced to 18 years and I
hoped that something would happen, that I would wake up and someone
would say it is a mistake, you should be free. And each time I would
continue to wait and wait.
I imagined myself, my life in that cell, like a man in a station. He
is waiting for a train to come to take him, and I was in this station
waiting for that train of freedom to take me. Waiting, and I believed
the train was coming - today, tomorrow, the next hour. And the train
didn't come until the end of the sentence. When they told me it was
18 years I did not believe I would stay until 2004. In 1986, to think
about 2004 is a very, very long time.
The 'incriminating' notebooks that had lain in my cell for 13 years
A month before Vanunu's release, notebooks were found in his cell in
which he had written details of his work at Dimona.
These are now being used as evidence that he has more secrets to
reveal - hence the restrictions placed on him, banning him from
talking to foreigners or going abroad. This is his explanation to
Yael Lotan:
Until June 1991 I used to pray and read in a loud voice every day and
did a lot of exercise in the courtyard. I used to run for two hours,
and then take a cold shower. In June 1991 I felt there was something
wrong with my health. I really thought I was going to die from too
much exercise and poor nutrition. I stopped reading out loud, changed
from vegetarian to eating meat and everything, and I decided to check
what was in my bare brain - what was going on in there, if it was
still good or not.
I decided I would sit down and write all I remembered about the
Dimona reactor. For a month I wrote down all that I had worked on,
full details in English. It was a mental exercise. I found that I
still remembered a lot; my mind and brain worked very well.
I then put the work aside, and it stayed in my cell. If they had
checked the cell in 1992 or at any time they could have found it. So
it stayed there until one month before my release when they checked
the cell and took these notebooks.
The restrictions on me now - I think they are stupid and not
reasonable. I did what I did and it ended with the Sunday Times article. Since that article was published there are no more secrets.
Much more important, it is 18 years since that happened. What Israel
has been doing for the last 18 years is its problem, not mine. I have
no more inner secrets. I think they should lift these restrictions
and let me start my life abroad.
I have no regrets in spite
of the fact I have paid a heavy punishment, a large price.
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