Moshe Rosenberg
Fifty years on, you might think there’s nothing more to say about the miraculous Raid on Entebbe, Israel’s dramatic rescue in Uganda of 103 captive airline passengers and crew on July 4, 1976, the day America celebrated its Bicentennial. Entebbe has produced books, movies, and a long stream of stories and tantalizing trivia nuggets. It gave Israel a hero in Commander Yonatan Netanyahu, the only military casualty of the mission, and for whom the operation was subsequently renamed.
But history is never static, and in our day, it is being rewritten to fit the mood of the times. We live in the age of the anti-hero, when the Man of Steel becomes Steelheart, and humanity must be on the watch from Watchmen. The same cynicism is reflected in politics, where betrayal of public trust in high places in both Washington and Israel surprises no one and evokes no apology. The public has ceased counting the ways that the President has used his office to enrich himself and his family, and the Prime Minister sees nothing wrong in demanding a pardon for any crimes he has committed without conceding guilt. When the very concept of integrity is met with an eyeroll, we should not be surprised if even the legends of simpler days lose some of their lustre.
In this essay, I will show that our era of the anti-hero has intensified pre-existing cynicism about the character and actions of major players in this drama. It has even unearthed new scandals and added new tarnish to their reputations. Yet, in the final reckoning, certain things have actually added polish and shine to the way we now see this famous episode.
Ever since Entebbe, the Netanyahu family and Yoni’s deputy, Muki Betzer, have been locked in an ugly feud, bickering over who deserves credit for the mission’s success – and blame for its near failure.
Betzer claims he did most of the planning while Yoni was off on another exercise. He also maintains that Yoni squandered a crucial element of surprise when he gave the order to shoot two Ugandan sentries they encountered on the way to the terminal.
Yoni’s brother Iddo has written three books insisting that Yoni did the planning, and that it was Muki who almost ruined the rescue by freezing at the terminal entrance, while Yoni screamed for him to move.
Over the years, the feud has grown louder and meaner, with others weighing in. Betzer’s constant retelling of the story has irritated some observers. A 2006 article in Haaretz declared, “Maybe next year he’ll think he was the one who was killed in Entebbe and they only identified the body as Yoni by mistake. Watching brave young warriors turn into old men lusting for glory is not a pretty sight. Take it easy, old soldier. There’s enough honor for both of you.” And adding to the ridicule: “Last month we found out that during Operation Entebbe, Muki Betzer deviated from the original plan by bursting into the terminal from the left door because he didn’t know which hand he was wearing his watch on, and Yoni started shooting too early because he was aiming at Muki Betzer’s back. The big secret, never divulged before, is that we landed three times in the wrong African capital, until we figured out where the hell Entebbe was.”
For its part, the Netanyahu family produced a film called Follow Me: The Yoni Netanyahu Story. Yoni is lionized by the likes of Shimon Peres, Ehud Barak, and the wife he divorced, as well as his fiancé at the time of the rescue. Muki Betzer’s name is nowhere to be found.
Another Haaretz article, by Amir Oren, casts new aspersions on Yoni’s leadership capabilities, claiming that his performance as head of Sayeret Matkal – Israel’s elite special reconnaissance and counter-terrorism unit – was found to be so unsatisfactory that his own men had complained, and Yoni’s superiors had decided to relieve him after one year, rather than the customary two.
Inevitably, after October 7th, some could not resist comparing one hostage crisis with the other. Sasha Igber wondered, “How much did (Prime Minister) Bibi (Netanyahu) learn from his brother? What lessons did he take away from Operation Entebbe, and in the value of retrieving hostages from terrorists? Of course Israel needed to go after Hamas in the wake of Oct. 7. But is a potential gap between reality and ideology, in Bibi’s unrelenting quest to eliminate terrorists that threaten Israel, hindering him from hostage negotiation?” Ingber knows that Bibi uses his visits to Yoni’s grave as opportunities to project his sensitivity to the plight of hostages and his determination to destroy anyone who takes hostages. She wonders whether that projection is mere PR or so heartfelt that he actually might let the hostages taken by Hamas languish while he pursues their captors.
Yet not all of Entebbe’s reflection in a 2026 mirror is negative. We can now look back at Idi Amin, who loomed so large in 1976, and see him as a blip on the radar of history. Modern day Uganda has rejected Amin’s legacy and reconciled with Israel. A statue of Yoni Netanyahu stands on Aero Beach, south of Kampala. And just this year, Uganda’s Defense Chief announced plans for a statue at Uganda International Airport, on the exact spot where Yoni was hit.
While some continue to debate history, many of the players from that era can no longer contribute to the discussion. Yitzhak Rabin, the Prime Minister who approved the mission, was murdered in 1995. Maj. Gen. Yekutiel “Kuti” Adam, the overall mission commander, was killed in 1982 when, as Deputy Chief of Staff, he went to check on outposts during the first Lebanon War. When one of the outposts came under fire, Adam was moved to a safe house, not knowing that a terrorist was hiding there. Adam was the highest-ranking Israeli officer killed in battle.
Motta (Mordechai) Gur led the paratroopers who liberated the old city of Jerusalem in 1967, uttering the immortal words, “Har HaBayit beyadeinu.” (The Temple Mount is in our hands.) He became Chief of Staff in 1976, and presided over the Entebbe rescue. But in 1995, when faced with terminal cancer, he took his own life, at the age of 65.
Conclusion
What happened on July 4, 1976 was larger than the men who pulled it off, and they knew it. They were in awe of what they had achieved. It was as if each had earned a slice of immortality. It was another “Har HaBayit b’yadeinu” moment. Some reacted all too humanly, publicly demanding credit for their actions. Others, like Kuty Adam, simply said, “mission accomplished, on to the next.” For Yoni, it meant becoming what the Jewish people needed at the time – a hero with all faults forgotten. With hijackings on the rise and the feelings of helplessness growing, Israel emotionally needed to rename Operation Thunderbolt in his memory to Operation Yonatan. To this day, they call him Yoni – like a close personal friend.
History may have rewritten some of the details over the years, but at least one conclusion survives intact. There are generations when our most capable people could have conquered untold fields and professions, but instead they chose to lay aside their dreams, and dedicate their lives, and their deaths, to their people. Rabin, Adam, Yoni, and Gur lived in such a generation.
October 7th taught us that we live in one too.
Here is a game designed by Moshe Rosenberg using Rosebud AI. You can find out more about the rescue while having fun! Feedback to mosherosenberg1@gmail.com.
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