Middle Eastern tyrants

Chapter 175 Bewitched
Soon, news of the capture of Quneitra by the Shuangzhi forces swept across the entire Arab world like a shockwave.

Taking Quneitra would mean the Golan Heights would be indefensible, and the supply lines to Damascus would be completely cut off. The Allied forces could then take advantage of the terrain to launch an attack on the Kudafa Plain in Surria at any time.

Behind this astonishing answer sheet are almost no expectations from anyone.

Deeply mired in the quagmire of a meat grinder-like war.
The collapse of the Al-Iraq defense line
King Shuangzhi was assassinated, and the country was divided and in turmoil.
In this situation, even believing in miracles seems like a joke.

"How can we fight this?"

Just when the Arab countries were already backing down and preparing to retreat, the young man deceived everyone. He transferred all his elite troops to the Yarmouk Valley and, leading by example, single-handedly broke through Zion's central army before supplies were cut off.

It wasn't just Zion who was stunned.

The entire Arab world was stunned.

What an incredibly powerful person!

Meanwhile, countless Arab countries are ecstatic about their victory in the war.

When President Dulles, who was lying in a hospital bed, learned of the news, the old man, who had been utterly despondent, seemed to have been injected with a powerful dose of adrenaline, and immediately fell into a state of extreme excitement and near-burning excitement.

He immediately pulled out the IV and, as if nothing had happened, returned to his presidential office in a suit, brimming with ambition.

"Can't you see? My brother must have received divine revelation from Allah." Joseph, the leader of Lirvia, said confidently to his officials, "He is the reincarnation of Gibraltar! He is the angel who controls war and iron! I told you before, but you didn't believe me!"

The Liberian propaganda department immediately released the news, but few Arab countries paid attention—after all, Muammar's unconventional and heretical behavior was common knowledge.

Upon learning of the victory, countries such as Corvette and Algeria significantly increased their aid efforts, sending supplies, troops, and even military pay subsidies to the front lines.

Even Al-Iraq, who had suffered a loss in silence, managed to assemble a mechanized infantry division and prepare to send it to the front lines.

This time, they were truly impressed by the young man's abilities.

But the happiest of all was Commander Hafez of Surya. The gloom of his previous defeats in the battles of Phoenicia and Zion seemed to have vanished completely.

"How about we contact Commander Amir now and discuss returning control of the Golan Heights?" the adjutant suggested in a low voice.

Commander Hafez hesitated for a moment, but eventually shook his head: "Now is not the time, unless you want us to become the second Al-Iraq."

He calmly analyzed, "Unity is still the top priority at present. We still have a bond with Amir, and besides, the Golan Heights are too far from Shuangzhi. It would be better to let the Allied forces guard it for us for now, and we can talk about it after the war."

He then changed the subject: "However, we could call the Allied command privately to offer our congratulations and, incidentally, discuss the strategic plans for the attack on Damascus."

Recapture of the capital Damascus was Hafez's long-cherished goal, and in his mind, it was even more important than the Golan Heights.

Judging from the current situation, the Arab allied forces will first clear out the remaining enemy forces and consolidate the Golan Heights before heading north.

He hoped to discuss with Lu Lin the possibility of giving the opportunity to be the first to attack Damascus to the troops of Surya.

The adjutant nodded: "I will have our liaison officer at the Allied General Staff convey our congratulations to Lieutenant General Amir."

Commander Hafez waved his hand and said, "No, there's no need for intermediaries. We'll speak directly in the name of the Surria government to show that this is my personal wish. Tell the lieutenant general that Surria will always be his friend."

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

A series of loud banging sounds came from the Prime Minister's office in Tel Aviv.

Prime Minister Hilbert, his eyes bloodshot, smashed almost everything he could in the office to pieces.

A circle of Zion's high-ranking officials stood around, each one trembling with fear.

"I've been feeding you bunch of good-for-nothings, you're just a waste of my time!"

The Prime Minister's furious voice roared through the room, his hair disheveled: "Who told me the Arabs had retreated! Who?!"

Defense Minister Commander Morda whispered, "Air Force reconnaissance units have indeed detected signs of a large-scale withdrawal of the Shuangzhi from Galilee; the plains are littered with the wreckage of their tanks."

"Then why didn't you detect their presence in the Yamuk Valley, preparing to deliver a fatal blow to Kunetra?!"

Hilbert's eyes widened in fury, and he slammed his fist on the table, roaring, "Answer me!!"

The generals exchanged glances cautiously; they fully understood the prime minister's anger, but none dared to answer.

General Gorodish wiped the cold sweat from his brow. He had a premonition that he was going to be blamed, but it really wasn't his fault.

The Yamuk Valley is a back slope terrain with complex topography, making it easy to hide one or two divisions of troops. This makes it a very dangerous operation for their pilots to carry out reconnaissance missions.

Finally, Prime Minister Hilbert turned his gaze to his trusted lieutenant, Yessavichen, and asked, "Why do you think things have turned out this way?"

Yeshavishin sighed inwardly, knowing the Prime Minister wanted to find someone to take responsibility, so he could only admit it: "This is mainly the responsibility of the headquarters..."

Hilbert's lips twitched, but he ultimately held back.

Because reason told him that it was not Jesavishen's fault, that the enemy had taken advantage of their arrogance and caught Zion off guard.

Moreover, if a general is replaced at the last minute, who can replace Yesavishin?

"Well, since it's already happened, all we can do is think about what to do next."

Seeing that the Prime Minister had regained his composure, the other generals also breathed a sigh of relief. Hilbert asked with a hint of hope, "Do we still have a chance to retake the Golan Heights?"

"I'm sorry, Your Excellency Prime Minister, I'm afraid that's very difficult."

General Yeshavishin said with a serious expression: "The Golan Heights have always been easy to defend and difficult to attack. Now that the Arab allies have occupied Quneitra, given Amir's military capabilities, he certainly won't give us a chance to take it back. He will definitely reserve one or two divisions to garrison this important point, or even move his artillery directly to the top of the mountain."

"Wouldn't that mean the entire Galilee Plain and the outskirts of Damascus would be exposed to Allied artillery fire?" Prime Minister Hilbert's eyes widened.

"Yes."

General Jesavichen's words shattered Hilbert's last illusions: "Damascus has become a complete enclave. We have now lost the initiative to attack and can only passively switch to defense."

This is tantamount to pushing back the gains Zion had made over many years to before the Six-Day War.

Prime Minister Hilbert sighed painfully, clearly deeply affected: "How am I supposed to explain this to the people?"

General Yessavichen knew that the Prime Minister would find it difficult to accept at first, but adhering to the principle that a short pain is worse than a long one, he continued: "Moreover, I think it is time for a nationwide mobilization, Your Excellency the Prime Minister."

Upon hearing this, everyone present felt a jolt in their hearts.

A nationwide mobilization means that the country has entered a critical juncture of life and death.

"Actually, if a full mobilization had been carried out earlier, there might still have been a chance to hold Kunetra."

Yeshavishin thought to himself, but didn't say it aloud.

This time, however, Prime Minister Hilbert was much calmer. He nodded: "You're right, Yesha. That Amir isn't Duleva. His goal isn't just to reclaim those lost territories, but to completely annihilate Zion!" Then he looked at the Minister of the Interior, his eyes gleaming: "How many eligible men are there in the country right now?"

The Interior Minister wiped his sweat: "Currently, our country has a resident population of approximately 35 million, of which about 350 are men aged 18 to 40."

"Too little!"

Prime Minister Hilbert asserted: "Expand the age limit to 16 to 40, loosen the restrictions! And tell those Arabs that as long as they are willing to serve in the military, they can obtain permanent residency in Zion! Zionists are far more physically fit than Arabs and can undertake more combat missions!"

Chief of Staff Lazars, who was standing nearby, dared not speak, fearing that the Prime Minister would next conscript women into the army.

"We need to spare even more troops,"

Hilbert grew increasingly excited as he spoke: "Let the forces of the Sinai Peninsula, Jerusalem, and Phoenicia all move eastward and launch a fierce attack on the west bank of the Hashim Valley! Now that we've won once, we can win a second time!"

Chief of the General Staff Lazars hesitated for a moment before asking, "But our 707th Panzer Division in Phoenicia is currently engaged in combat with the Falange Party and Surria's forces. A large number of prisoners are delaying our offensive. What should we do with these people?"

"Then kill them all!" Hilbert waved his hand impatiently. "No prisoners! We must win the war as quickly as possible!"

Lazars froze, feeling a chill run down his spine.

That's tens of thousands of people!

Seeing the Prime Minister's somewhat obsessive state, he could only grit his teeth and reply, "Understood."

General Yesavishen looked at the excited Hilbert and sensed that the man was already somewhat mentally unstable due to the ups and downs.

Prime Minister Hilbert stood up abruptly, placing his hands on the table. His gaze swept over each of the generals, and his voice was filled with an undeniable fervor: "Gentlemen! I know that the current situation is more severe than ever before! We have suffered a temporary setback, lost precious territory, and our finest soldiers have paid the ultimate price!"

But! Throughout our history, the hardships and trials experienced by the Zion people were far darker and more desperate than they are today!
Which great victory wasn't conceived in the darkest of times?

This shows that the current predicament is just the final and most profound test that God is giving us!
But I tell you, victory will surely belong to us! Because our will is unbreakable! Because our cause is righteous and immortal!
What we have lost today, we will reclaim tenfold, a hundredfold tomorrow! For Zion! For survival! Victory is ours!

All the generals were moved by the impassioned speech; they involuntarily straightened their postures, their voices echoing through the messy office.

"Victory is certain! For Zion!"

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

After the small council session ended, General Yeshavishin was taken to a secluded room by Commander Moda.

"His Excellency the Prime Minister is a master orator, isn't he? His words always get people fired up." Commander Moda lit a cigarette and handed it to Yeshavishin.

“Thank you, but I’ve already quit,” Yesavishin said, indicating his refusal.

Commander Morda casually placed his cigarette on the ashtray and continued, "The Prime Minister is a great leader, that's beyond doubt, but as you can see, he seems to be a little mentally unstable these days."

He pointed to his head, the meaning of which was self-evident.

"Actually, this didn't just happen in the last few days, but rather over a long period of time. War is too mentally and physically exhausting for an old man, and he has to use medication to maintain his mental state."

General Yesavishin's voice suddenly turned cold: "If you have nothing else, please allow me to take my leave."

He then stood up.

Commander Morda suddenly asked, "Have you thought about what would happen if we lost?"

".What did you say?"

"That's what it means."

"Are you crazy?"

"Maybe, but it's not enough to send a 16-year-old to the battlefield."

Hilbert's son-in-law, Zion's Minister of Defense, stared into General Yeshavishen's eyes and said, "And it doesn't amount to massacring tens of thousands of unarmed Arabs. This isn't a war of national defense! Your Excellency, this will send us all to hell!"

Yesavishin's lips moved, but he ultimately fell silent.

Even as a hardened soldier, he believed that the Prime Minister's order had indeed crossed the line.

Commander Morda continued in a low voice, "We are prepared to initiate the parliamentary impeachment process, demand a new election for prime minister, and secretly contact the United States and Ant Group to see if we can bring this war to a peaceful conclusion."

Yesavishin's gaze sharpened: "How many people support you now?"

"Half of them are in parliament, and more than a third are in the military."

Commander Morda replied, "If the order for a nationwide mobilization is issued, we will have even more supporters."

At that time, we will nominate you to succeed as the new Prime Minister of Zion.

Yeshavishin was taken aback by what he heard.

"why me?"

Commander Morda gave a helpless, bitter smile: "Because you are currently the only one who can be compared to Amir, and you are also an undefeated general. Only if you take the stage can you prove to the people that we have not lost yet."

"Forget it," Yeshavishen shook his head. "The Arabs haven't even split yet, and we're already facing internal strife?

He paused for a moment: "Moreover, even if we really want to negotiate, we must first win a decisive victory! Without a victory as a backing, there is no way to talk about peace!"

“Alright.” Commander Morda shrugged. “Think about this some more. There’s still some time.”

Before leaving, he turned to Yesavishin and reminded him, "Don't tell anyone about my meeting with you."

Yeshavishin nodded coldly. He knew that once this conversation was exposed, the entire Zion would fall apart first, and he would definitely be the first person the Prime Minister would eliminate, even though he was the frontline commander-in-chief.

Commander Morda left the room.

Yeshavishin's face gradually darkened.

He had not expected that the power of the surrender faction in the country had grown so strong.

He knew perfectly well that there was no possibility of "peace" in this war, because it was a blood feud that had accumulated between the two peoples over decades.

Yeshavishen watched as the cigarette on the ashtray burned down to its last bit, until the flame finally went out.

The only way to end hatred is for one side to completely disappear.

There is no other way.

(End of this chapter)