Israel name-checked a notorious WWII attack to justify sinking Syria's navy
Israel invoked a World War II precedent in trying to justify its preemptive strikes in Syria.
During WWII, the Royal Navy attacked the fleet of its former ally to keep it from Nazi control.
Both operations were borne in atmospheres of fear and crisis.
When Israel sank six Syrian warships at the port of Latakia this week amid larger attacks on the military remnants of the ousted Assad government, Israel's leader invoked a precedent from World War II.
"This is similar to what the British Air Force did when it bombed the fleet of the Vichy regime, which was cooperating with the Nazis, so that it would not fall into the Nazis' hands," Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu said.
Though Netanyahu's history was faulty — it was the Royal Navy rather than the RAF that struck the French fleet — his analogy was revealing. The attack on the port of Mers-el-Kébir on July 3, 1940, has gone down as either a courageous decision that saved Britain or a treacherous and needless backstab of an ally.
At the least, it's one of Britain's most controversial decisions of World War II. Like Israel today, the British acted amid an atmosphere of crisis, haste, and uncertainty. The Israeli goal is to keep the now-deposed Syrian government's huge arsenal — which includes chemical weapons and ballistic missiles — from falling into the hands of rebel groups, which are dominated by Islamic militants. For Britain, the goal was to keep Adolf Hitler's hands off the French fleet, the fourth-largest navy in the world in 1940.
In that chaotic summer of 1940, the situation looked grim. The German blitzkrieg had just conquered France and Western Europe, while the cream of the British Army had barely been evacuated — minus their equipment — from Dunkirk. If the Germans could launch an amphibious assault across the English Channel, the British Army was in no condition to repel them.
But Operation Sealion — the Nazi German plan to invade Britain — had its own problems. The Kriegsmarine — the German Navy — was a fraction of the size of the Royal Navy and thus too small to escort vulnerable troop transports. But British Prime Minister Winston Churchill had to contemplate a situation he'd never expected: a combined German-French battle fleet.
Technically, France had agreed only to an armistice — a permanent cease-fire — with Germany rather than a surrender. France would be divided into a German-occupied northern zone and a nominally independent rump state of Vichy comprising southern France and the colonies of the French Empire. Vichy France would be allowed a meager army, and the French Navy would be confined to its home ports.
The British didn't trust French promises that its ships would be scuttled if the Germans tried to seize them. Why had France signed a separate peace with Germany after earlier pledging not to? Why didn't the French government choose to go into exile and continue the war from its North African colonies as the British urged? London was well aware that the right-wing Vichy government — under Field Marshal Philippe Pétain, hero of the First World War — had more affection for the Third Reich than it did for Britain. With Germany master of Europe, Pétain sneered that Britain would soon "have its neck wrung like a chicken."
After Vichy rebuffed pleas to send the fleet to British ports, Churchill and his ministers decided the risk was too great. In late June 1940, the Royal Navy received orders for Operation Catapult. A task force — including the aircraft carrier Ark Royal and three battleships and battle cruisers — would be dispatched to the French naval base at Mers-el-Kébir, near the Algerian port of Oran. A powerful French squadron of four battleships and six destroyers were docked there, including the new battleships Dunkerque and Strasbourg.
The French were to be given six hours to respond to an ultimatum: sail their ships to British ports and fight the Germans, sail them to French Caribbean ports and sit out the war, demilitarize their ships at Mers-el-Kébir, or scuttle their vessels. When the local French commander tried to delay while summoning reinforcements, the British opened fire.
The ensuing battle was not the Royal Navy's most glorious. Caught in every admiral's nightmare — unprepared ships anchored in port — the French were simply smothered by British gunfire. The battleship Bretagne and two destroyers were sunk, two other battleships were damaged, and 1,297 French sailors were killed. The British suffered two deaths.
This was no repeat of the Battle of Trafalgar, when the Royal Navy smashed a Franco-Spanish fleet off Spain in 1805. Most ships at Mers-el-Kébir were damaged rather than sunk, and the French fleet quickly relocated its scattered vessels to the heavily defended French port at Toulon (where they were scuttled in November 1942 when German troops occupied Vichy). Though Vichy didn't declare war on Britain — and retaliated with only a few minor attacks on British bases — it confirmed old French prejudices about British treachery and "perfidious Albion."
Britain's attack on Mers-el-Kébir was political as much as military. In the summer of 1940, many people — including some in the United States — believed the British would be conquered or compelled to make peace with a victorious Germany. Churchill argued that Britain had to show its resolve to keep on fighting, not least if it hoped to persuade America to send tanks, ships, and war materials via a Lend-Lease deal. Attacking a former ally may have been a demonstration of British resolve.
Israel's situation doesn't resemble that of Britain in 1940. Syria has never been an ally of Israel. The two nations have had an armistice since 1949, punctuated by multiple wars and clashes over the years. Britain acted out of a sense of weakness, while Israel is confident enough of its strength to hit targets in Syria.
Yet by citing Mers-el-Kébir as a precedent, Netanyahu proved a golden rule of international relations that applied in 1940 and still applies today: Nations always act in their own interests. Faced with a choice between respecting a former ally and defending Britain from invasion, Churchill chose the latter. Netanyahu didn't hesitate to do the same.
Michael Peck is a defense writer whose work has appeared in Forbes, Defense News, Foreign Policy magazine, and other publications. He holds an MA in political science from Rutgers University. Follow him on Twitter and LinkedIn.
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