
The recent death of Kozo Okamoto, one of the terrorists responsible for the massacre at Lod Airport, brought me back to a remarkable interrogation in which General Rehavam “Gandhi" Ze’evi placed a pistol on the table-and succeeded in breaking his prisoner’s silence.
More than five decades later, that episode highlights a troubling contrast: between an Israel that once understood how to combine determination, tactical ingenuity, and sound operational judgment to defeat its enemies, and a reality in which fear of legal consequences can nowadays paralyze soldiers before the first shot is even fired.
The stark contrast between the hesitation of IDF soldiers during the terrorist attack at Havat Gilad and the determination that characterized Israel in the past tells a larger story-the erosion of Israel’s fighting spirit. At Havat Gilad, we saw soldiers hesitate to fire at terrorists because they feared violating rules of engagement and facing legal consequences. Once, the reality was different.
Okamoto’s recent death brought me back to that earlier episode. For me, it also represents a kind of closing of the circle, as I represented the victims’ families in their legal battle against those responsible for the Lod Airport massacre.
But the story of how Okamoto was ultimately broken is, above all, a reminder of a basic principle that Israel once understood instinctively: the first responsibility of a state is to protect its citizens and defeat those who seek to destroy them. The law should provide the framework for military action-not take command of the battlefield.
Newly revealed documents describe how, after his capture, Okamoto refused to speak and expressed a desire to die. Rehavam “Gandhi" Ze’evi, then head of IDF Central Command, recognized his vulnerability and took advantage of it.
According to the testimony, Ze’evi placed his pistol on the table and, through an interpreter, told Okamoto that if he cooperated, he would allow him to kill himself. Only then - Okamoto finally talked.
After days of silence, he provided valuable intelligence. When the interrogation was over, Gandhi took back the pistol and made clear that there had never been any deal. Okamoto was put on trial.
One can debate the method. It is much harder to debate the result.
Today, it is difficult to imagine such an operation taking place without an immediate cascade of legal consultations. Before the pistol ever reached the table, there would likely be discussions, legal opinions, and assessments of the potential international consequences.
Instead of asking, “How do we defeat the enemy?" we risk asking, “How will this look to the lawyers?" The Havat Gilad incident demonstrates just how deeply that fear has already penetrated the battlefield.
For years, I have fought terrorist organizations and their sponsors in the legal arena. Precisely because of that, I believe deeply in the rule of law.But there is a fundamental difference between a legal system that enables a democratic state to defend itself and one that becomes a mechanism for restricting its ability to do so.
Israel’s enemies understood this long ago. If they cannot defeat Israel on the battlefield, they will try to defeat it in the courtroom. International tribunals, human rights organizations, and politically motivated legal campaigns have become weapons of war. The International Criminal Court’s arrest warrants against senior Israeli officials are not merely legal proceedings. They are part of an effort to deter those fighting terrorism rather than those who perpetrate it.
Gandhi was not an enemy of the law. He understood the proper order of things: commanders conduct wars, while the law provides the framework within which they operate. It does not replace their operational judgment. In recent years, that order seems to have been reversed. At times, the fear of the legal adviser appears greater than the fear of the enemy.
Okamoto’s death is a reminder of a lesson we seem to have forgotten: deterrence does not begin with legal documents. It begins with determination, courage, and the conviction that we are fighting for a just cause.
Once, one bullet was enough.
Not because the world was simpler, but because the State of Israel understood that it was fighting to win-and its legal system understood that its role was to enable that fight, not to wage the war itself.
Nitsana Darshan-Leitner is President of Shurat HaDin - Israel Law Center, an organization that fights for the State of Israel in the legal arena, and author of Harpoon.