I had the privilege of meeting Yitzhak Shamir on numerous occasions, primarily at rabbinic gatherings both in Israel and abroad, where I lived during his tenure as prime minister. When visiting Israel and staying in Jerusalem, I would wait for him on Aza Street on Shabbat afternoons, when he would habitually stroll with his guards through the Rehavia neighborhood, meeting and greeting the locals and tourists alike. I was always struck by the fact that he didn’t look very “presidential,” as he was quite short and grandfatherly, and dressed rather casually.

Later, I came to understand that Israeli prime ministers were elected more on the merit system than by virtue of their looks or charisma. In fact, many of our greatest statesmen were somewhat “vertically challenged” – David Ben-Gurion, Menachem Begin and our present PM among them – and yet they possessed a commanding presence that emanated from their superior intellect and fierce devotion to the state.

Shamir’s greatest quality, it seems to me, was his ability to hold back, to refrain from jumping to political or military conclusions even when under intense pressure to do so.

He was the epitome of the proverb in Ethics of the Fathers – which he read religiously on Shabbat afternoons – that states: “Who is mighty? He who controls his impulse.” Shamir was an immovable object that could not be budged; when he made up his mind, Heaven and Earth could not deter him.

COMEDIAN JACKIE Mason had a classic routine describing Shamir’s response to various American attempts to persuade him to cede Israeli land to the Palestinians: “Vell, it is an intriguing idea that you put forth here,” Mason would mimic Shamir. “I vill tink about it. I vill take it under consideration. I vill consult my advisers. I vill mull it over and peruse it from every angle.” And then he would wink at his entourage and never give it a second thought.

Shamir – who clearly was an activist in his pre-state leadership of the underground – fervently believed as prime minister that while there certainly were occasions that called for decisive decisions and concerted action by the government, more often than not if we just exercised patience and waited, the storm would pass and the crisis would blow over.

The most vivid application of this policy was Shamir’s decision to not react to Iraqi provocation during the Gulf War. He allowed 39 Scud missiles to fall on Israel without any retaliation whatsoever against Saddam Hussein. Despite extensive damage done by the missiles and a pervasive sense of national anxiety over the possibility of chemical or biological warheads being used, Shamir was resolute in his conviction that Israel should stay on the sidelines and allow the fragile American-led coalition to fight the war. And while he was roundly criticized in some circles for setting a precedent of Israeli passivity, and even accused of timidity, he maintained until his last days that in this instance, and many others like it, discretion was indeed the better part of valor.

Shamir, I think, keenly understood that we are surrounded by enemies who are continually trying to goad us into a fight, devising every means possible to place us in no-win situations. He also was convinced that our supporters – principally the US and Europe – adamantly believed that we, and not the Arabs, should be the ones making concessions and offering initiatives and “good-will” gestures to our adversaries. Shamir’s response to all this was to deliberate and deflect, keeping the powder dry and holding the fort until and unless there was no choice but to act.

Shamir’s state of mind could serve us in good stead today. Though we hunger for a peace partner and desperately seek a solution to the Mideast conflict, we have to learn to control our emotions until a genuine partner comes on the scene. We cannot transform those who seek our destruction into moderates just by wishful thinking. They have to demonstrate their genuine desire for coexistence and their abandonment of genocidal intentions before we can endanger our security via one-sided concessions. They have to prove their intent – as Anwar Sadat boldly did – before we bestow upon them facts on the ground, as did Shamir’s mentor Begin.

THERE IS a well-known rabbinic story that perfectly highlights the merit in buying time:

A king, known more for his abuse of power than his sagacity, once decided that he would like his dog to talk. So he offered a huge reward to any of his subjects who could teach the pet to converse. But he warned that those who tried and failed would lose their heads. Not surprisingly, none of the citizens came forward. This angered the king, and so he selected the wisest people in the kingdom and ordered them to tutor the dog. One by one, they told the monarch that the task at hand was beyond the realm of possibility, and one by one they were executed.

But when the king confronted the rabbi, he was stunned. “I believe that I can teach your dog to talk,” the rabbi said, “but it will not be an easy process. I must instruct him how to use his canine vocal chords, how to move his mouth, where to place his tongue. This will require five to six working hours a day. If Your Majesty will grant me 10 years, I think I can accomplish the task.” The king agreed, and the rabbi was given a room in the palace and exclusive access to the dog.

But the rabbi’s followers were perplexed. “Why did you agree to such an impossible request?” they asked. “There is no way you can ever satisfy the king’s foolish demand!”

The rabbi smiled and replied: “A lot can happen in 10 years. The king could die, or be overthrown. I could die. The dog could die. Or maybe I will actually find a way to teach the dog to talk! But meanwhile, with this gift of 10 years, I will live to see many great things; weddings for my children, new grandchildren, happy events of every kind. Why should I submit to an evil decree when time just might solve all my problems?”

Israel, a most progressive country, is great at recycling former political higher-ups. But it would be wonderful if we could find new leaders cut in the mold of men like Yitzhak Shamir, who understood that fools rush in where wise men never go. (© 1995-2011, The Jerusalem Post 07/06/12)