DOUGLAS FEITH

When Shmuel Katz talked about politics and current events, he did so less as a politician than as a prophet. His interest was not so much the art of the possible, but large and basic truths.

Shmuel was a thorough-going Zionist. In his marrow he felt the necessity for the Jewish people to have a sovereign and secure state in their ancient homeland. He defended the Jews’ right to their state, a right rooted in law and history.

He knew a great deal of history – of the Jews, of Palestine, of the Middle East, and of the diplomacy of the Arab-Israeli conflict. He had studied all this with scholarly attention to facts and analysis and argumentation. He was a passionate advocate for the Zionist cause, but he did not argue as a mere polemicist; he backed up his views with documentation and lucid reasoning.

He was a stickler for historically precise terminology. He referred to Judea-Samaria, not the West Bank. He spoke of Palestinian Arabs, not simply Palestinians – the Jews are Palestinians too, he observed, and the Jews called themselves Palestinians when the Arabs of Palestine made a point of calling themselves Arabs rather than Palestinians. He rejected expressions – “occupied territories” and “Israeli-Palestinian conflict” – that he saw as incorrect or misleading. Shmuel would sometimes be told that his persnickety approach to terminology grated on his interlocutors; people can get irritated, after all, when their conventional phrases are challenged. But for Shmuel, the issue was truthfulness and accuracy, not sparing the sensibilities of the wayward.

Despite his prophet-like intensity and doggedness, Shmuel had a boisterous sense of humor. He commanded a vast store of funny Jewish stories. (The old Jew, newly arrived in Palestine, walks in a gorgeous grove and comes upon Rothschild’s impressive tomb. “That’s living!” he proclaims.) He deployed them aptly and laughed at them himself with infectious heartiness.

Shmuel liked to highlight Jabotinsky’s sense of humor, especially when he talked about his personal contacts with his hero. Shmuel conveyed a vivid picture of a well-rounded Jabotinsky, a humane renaissance man of action and affairs. Jabotinsky had many brilliant facets – as a journalist, orator, political organizer, philosopher, visionary, linguist, translator of Poe and Dante – and Shmuel reveled in all of them.

Shmuel’s two-volume work on Jabotinsky’s life, Lone Wolf, is a masterpiece of biography and an invaluable contribution to the history of Zionism. On a somewhat smaller scale, so too is Shmuel’s biography of Aharon Aaronsohn. It was the last of Shmuel’s books, the full set of which are a monument to Zionist inspiration, energy and idealism. Special praise is due his best-selling Battleground, a handbook for Israel-lovers who want to counter the standard falsehoods by which Israel’s enemies have impugned the Jewish state’s legitimacy and reputation.

Shmuel was a rock. He was principled and reliable. His convictions were deeply rooted in his immense learning and he upheld them fiercely. As befits a prophet, there was nothing soft, apologetic or trendy about Shmuel, but there was much about him that was lovable as well as admirable.

My family and I spent a great deal of time with him over many years. We saw him last a few months ago in Israel. He had a terrible problem with his lower legs. When I called him to arrange a get together, I asked how he was doing. “Beseder gamoor,” he replied, laughing: “Down to my knees, I’m beseder; below that, I’m gamoor.” We loved him and we miss him. We’re happy we have his books.

Douglas J. Feith, a friend of Shmuel Katz for thirty years, served as Under Secretary of Defense for Policy in the George W. Bush administration.