The Security Council Resolution of November 22, 1967 (“the November Resolution”) will obviously be a main focus of international attention in the diplomacy following the renewed Israel-Egypt Cease-Fire of August 8, 1970. And the writer has published a study of it in “The ‘November Resolution’ and Middle East Peace: Pitfall or Guidepost”? The present study, parallel to that one, is a stocktaking for the three years or so between the Cease-Fires of 1967 and 1970, of the conduct of Israel and the Arab States, as this bears upon their obligations under international law. The detailed aspects of conduct involved will be clear enough from the headings. All of them obviously pertain either to conduct affecting the regime of cease-fire, or to conduct affecting the regime of Israel's administration of the Gaza Strip, the West Bank, Sinai and the Golan Heights.

Egypt and Syria, with massive Soviet support, have more than restored their armaments virtually to pre-June 1967 levels. According to Washington Post figures of May 23, 1970, Egypt's front-line aircraft then numbered 600 (including 320 Mig 21's and Sukhai 7's) as compared with 450 immediately before, and only 100 immediately after, the Six Day War. To these, after the disclosure of actual Soviet air patrols in Egypt, it is clear that by July 1970 a further 100 Mig 21's with accompanying Soviet pilots have to be added; and the arrival of another 50 Soviet-piloted aircraft was reported to be then impending. Syria was reported by Aviation Week and Space Technology (at about the same date) to have 230 planes (including 100 Mig 21's and Sukhai 7's). That magazine estimated that the Arab States involved marshalled a total of 1230 fighter bombers (including the 100 Soviet-manned planes), and that this represented a four to one superiority over Israel's 330 aircraft which included 60 Mirage 3J's, 42 Phantoms, and 48 Skyhawks. (The London Institute of Strategic Studies estimated Israel's holdings in May as only 325, including 50 Phantoms).

When Professor Ginossar invited me to address you, he very liberally left the choice of topic to me. “Talk about anything you want,” he said, “about Eshnunna, or about the Land of Israel Movement, or about anything else you consider proper.” This left me in somewhat of a quandary. I might have talked to you about ancient legal history, about Rome, or about the Jewish military colony at Elephantine, in southern Egypt, of the 5th century B.C., or else about the laws of Eshnunna, an Old-Babylonian kingdom of the 18th century B.C. But then one should beware of imposing one's specialties on a general audience, however intelligent, kind and tolerant. At the very best the interest of a few might be kindled, for others the likely result is boredom—albeit in after-lunch talks alleviated by a tendency to post-prandial somnolence.

I might have talked about politics. This—I feel quite certain—would have kept everyone wide awake. But while I do hope that some of you would have agreed with my views, a few might even have been persuaded, I have no doubt whatsoever that others would have disagreed quite strongly. In the end I did not think it proper to introduce that much controversy into this “happy dwelling together of brethren”. If I had been expressly asked to talk about politics, I should have complied without hesitation (and perhaps there may be some other occasion for it). But, since the matter was left to my discretion, I decided against it.

In the last twenty-five years more than sixty new states have come into being. Most of these new states are burdened with the problems caused by economic underdevelopment, but are determined to solve those problems. The very fact of underdevelopment, however, has meant that these states are unable to marshall sufficient domestic capital to meet the goals of constant and rapid development. They have, consequently, had to turn to the developed, industrialized nations for aid in achieving those goals.

At first, the aid that was given to the developing countries was generally given on a government to government basis. The explanation for the absence of private enterprise in the business of reconstruction and development may be found in the facts of the economic reality of Europe in the late 1940's and of Africa, Asia and Latin America in the 50's and 60's. The problems that had to be solved were so complex and the means for solving them so limited that it seemed that if anything could be done, it would have to be done on the massive, centralized, planned basis which demanded governmental organization and control. Furthermore, in the short-run, at least, the private sector was totally uninterested in any investment which was risky and, so it seemed, not very profitable. Rational economic decisions were, however, in the case of the developing countries, buttressed by an ideological foundation which rejected private enterprise associated with former colonialist masters and emphasized the economic and social benefits of public control of the means of production. In the past ten years, however, ideology has begun to make way for a more pragmatic approach. The developing countries have come to understand that aid from foreign governments often comes in a package with undesirable political wrappings and that, more important, government to government aid simply could not provide enough of the capital that must be raised if ambitious development programmes are to be met.

The Torah contains two groupings of cyclical legislation, the Jubilee laws, based on a fifty-year cycle, and the Sabbatical laws, based on a seven-year cycle. Our enquiry is concerned with the former, the Jubilee legislation, but it is clear that an important part of the discussion will be the relationship between it and the Sabbatical legislation. The laws of these two groupings, which overlap considerably, consist of three main elements, fallow laws, release laws, and redemption laws. The latter are not cyclical laws, but are linked to the cyclical legislation in the text and are important for its understanding.

The material outlined above is found in three Pentateuchal codes; in Exodus, Leviticus and Deuteronomy. In Exodus 23:10ff there is a fallow-law: an entire cessation of all field work (verb š m ṭ) is ordered to take place in every seventh year. This is said to be dictated by a regard for the poor and the beasts of the field. From the context it would appear that the fallow is intended to be universal (the following regulation concerns the Sabbath), but this is by no means a necessary conclusion. Secondly, there are release-laws, concerning slaves only. In 21:2–6 it is laid down that a Hebrew slave can be kept in bondage only for six years. After this period he was automatically emancipated.

It is a feature of the English law of sentencing that the penalty laid down for an offence indicates the maximum which may be imposed for that offence, but that in lieu of such penalty a milder one may be imposed at the discretion of the court. Apart from the special case of murder where life imprisonment is mandatory, exceptions to this rule are rare.

In Israel this same principle was incorporated in section 42 of the Criminal Code Ordinance, 1936, and in the section which replaced it, section 1 of the Penal Law Revision (Modes of Punishment) Law, 1954, which states as follows: “A court which has convicted a person of an offence may impose on him any penalty not exceeding the penalty prescribed by law for that offence”. In lieu of the term of imprisonment specified by the law a court is thus empowered to impose a shorter period of imprisonment, a conditional term of imprisonment, or a fine; it may, alternatively, make a probation order.