It pains me to say this, but Israel should close its army radio station. Just not now.

Israel’s defense minister, master politician Israel Katz, wants to shutter the station known as “Galatz,” its Hebrew acronym, because some of its broadcasters are critical of his government.

In contrast, the only legitimate reason to shut down the 75-year-old institution is this: It is improper in a democracy to operate an army radio station that broadcasts to the general public.

Why does it pain me to say that? Because back in the 1970s, under an assumed name, I worked for Galatz.

I was the station’s radio monitor. Perched on a stool in a bedroom of our tiny Jerusalem apartment, I twirled the dials of my shortwave set, recording broadcasts that would end up on Galatz newscasts. I used a cassette recorder, and when I caught something worthwhile, I alerted the producers, raced to the Galatz studio in downtown Jerusalem with the tape, and transmitted the recording to headquarters in Jaffa along with a translation into Hebrew.

An illustrative image of a reporter for Army Radio (Galei Tzahal) taken in 2019.
An illustrative image of a reporter for Army Radio (Galei Tzahal) taken in 2019. (credit: MOSHE SHAI/FLASH90)

Among my “scoops” were a recording of the new Russian national anthem (1977) and the official announcement of the death of Spanish dictator Francisco Franco (1975).

Assumed name? It was my Hebrew name, Moshe Bentsion. Why? Because my day job was reporting and announcing for the English service of Galatz’s direct competitor, the Israeli state radio station.

Several times when I attended the morning meeting at Israel Radio’s news division, I heard grumbling about how Galatz beat them to a story. “Who is this Moshe Bentsion guy?” they’d mutter. This article is the first time I’ve outed myself.

Our plan was simple: When it came time for my regular service in the Israeli military, I would serve in uniform as Galatz’s radio monitor. It didn’t work out, and I ended up in a tank unit.

Why was Galatz created?

Galatz was created in 1950 as a service for soldiers. During the 1973 war, it expanded its broadcasts from a few hours a day to 24 hours, carrying special programs for the forces at the front. Those continued during Israel’s wars in Lebanon in the 1980s.

The most poignant program was “Mom’s Voice,” recordings of mothers sending messages to their children at the front lines. Back in those dark ages, there was no other way for them to communicate.

Times have changed. “Mom’s Voice” is still on the air, but now it carries live conversations between mothers and soldiers, or recordings from soldiers—communication is no longer the barrier it once was.

Likewise, Galatz has changed. It features hour-long newscasts, political discussion shows, and cultural specials—like its big brother and competitor, the semi-public successor to the Israel Radio of my era.

Defense Minister Katz’s problem appears to be that not all Galatz programming echoes the government line. That is true—it reflects the wide spectrum of Israeli public opinion, which has grown more critical of the government over the course of the long war in Gaza.

That still isn’t a sound reason to close the station. The sound reason is that army radio stations are associated with dictatorships like North Korea, not democracies like Israel.

But wait a minute. What about the United States? It has a military broadcasting arm, too—the Armed Forces Radio and Television Service, known back in my day by that name and now as American Forces Network.

And believe it or not, I almost worked for that one, too. Facing the possibility of being drafted and sent to Vietnam after my university graduation, I enlisted in the US Army. I had a ticket to Armed Forces Radio. If you watched the Robin Williams movie Good Morning, Vietnam! then you’ve seen Armed Forces Radio in action.

But I flunked the US Army physical because of an ice-hockey knee injury, and I wound up in that Israeli army tank unit a few years later, after working for Galatz.

Here’s the difference: Armed Forces Radio does not broadcast inside the United States. It is directed exclusively at American forces and their families serving abroad, in places where there are no American-style broadcasts in English. It is doubtful there’s a need for a separate radio service for Israeli soldiers, since Israeli radio and TV in Hebrew are available on every smartphone.

So, is Katz right? Can you be right for the wrong reasons? You can, but you shouldn’t.

Galatz, as it is constituted today, does not harm the public sphere. The same cannot be said of the broader media environment shaped by the government Katz represents:

The current administration includes a communications minister who wants to extend government control over all broadcasting; A previous government led by Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu pushed special legislation through the Knesset to allow free distribution of a daily newspaper that openly reflects Netanyahu’s politics; The government also established a TV “news” channel whose purpose is to echo the ruling party’s policies, often ignoring facts or inventing its own, providing a home for Netanyahu supporters who dislike the “slant” of the three main news channels—all of which dare to air items critical of the government.

So yes, Galatz should be closed. But it should be closed by a government broadly accepted as acting on behalf of all the people, not one widely suspected—often for good reason—of acting only in the interests of its most fervent voters and the most extreme members of its ruling coalition.

We can wait.

Mark Lavie has been covering the Middle East for major news outlets since 1972. His second book, Why Are We Still Afraid?, which follows his five-decade career and comes to a surprising conclusion, is available on Amazon.