/ BARAK / 28 The next key moment in the campaign involved something I did not do. This time, the Israeli television debate came earlier in the campaign, a month before the election. Bibi, Yitzhik Mordechai and I were all invited, as the three main candidates. But I told the TV people I had a conflicting personal engagement. I figured I had nothing to gain by going. To join a three-way debate risked creating the impression this was a genuine three-man race, and I still held out hope it would come down to just me and Bibi. Besides, I thought a debate between the other two would help me. Yitzhik knew Bibi well. He had served in Bibi’s government. Though not a natural orator, he was always forthright, and often pugnacious, in making his points. And he couldn’t stand Bibi. Unlike the 1996 debate, this time there was a knock-out blow, and Bibi was the one left on the canvas. It was a bit like Senator Lloyd Bentsen’s killer riposte when Republic vice-presidential candidate Dan Quayle compared himself to John F. Kennedy in their debate, a few months earlier: “Jack Kennedy was a friend of mine. Senator, you’re no Jack Kennedy...” Bibi entered his television showdown with Yitzhik Mordechai with much the same strategy he’d used against Peres. He went on the offensive. He tried to portray himself as an indispensable bulwark against those, like Yitzhik or me, who he said would cosy up to Arafat and Assad and endanger Israel’s security. But Yitzhik was up for the fight. He also knew that only months earlier, Bibi himself had been exploring the idea of giving up the Golan Heights to the same President Assad. He didn’t actually refer to the secret mission by Ronald Lauder, or explicitly accuse Bibi of hypocrisy. But his reply — and Bibi’s visible discomfort — were just as effective. Smiling sardonically, he said: “I know your outbursts, and they won’t do you any good.” He challenged Bibi to just “look me in the eye” and admit what he really thought about the future of the Golan.