I’d been impressed by President Bush’s political acumen in assembling an international coalition including the key Arab states. Through Unit 8200 in military intelligence, we would only very occasionally get verbatim transcripts of his conversations as he brought first the Saudis and other Gulf states on board, then Morocco, and eventually even Syria. More often, I’d see the President’s deft diplomacy second-hand, through intercepts of Arab leaders’ communications with one another. But the picture which emerged was of an American president deftly able to stake out common ground, and common interests, with each of the Americans’ growing number of anti-Saddam allies. When we entered the Oval Office on the evening of February 11, Bush was flanked by Secretary of State Baker, Defense Secretary Cheney and national security adviser Brent Scowcroft. Also there was Colin Powell, a general whom I had got to know well, and to like, over the past few years and who was now head of the joint chiefs-of-staff. Given the seriousness of our mission, the start of the meeting was almost surreal. The Americans had obviously been told that I was born on February 12. Since it was just past midnight in Israel, they began by wishing me a happy 49" birthday. Yet pleasing thought that was, it became clear there was a disconnect between the tension among Israeli government ministers, and ordinary Israelis, back home and the relaxed, self-assured, at times even jovial mood of the President and his inner circle. Their primary focus was clearly not on Israel, but on the overwhelming success of their air attacks on Iraq and the approach of a ground offensive that they were confident would finish the job. That didn’t seem to change even after a truly extraordinary interruption to our meeting, when one of Misha’s aides passed on the news that a Scud had struck the Tel Aviv suburb of Savyon, where Misha himself ltved. He immediately excused himself and went to phone his wife, Muriel, to confirm sh