The 1967 Israeli Attack on USS Liberty: A Comprehensive Report

Background and Context

On June 8, 1967, the United States Navy ship USS Liberty (AGTR-5) was conducting intelligence-gathering operations in international waters of the eastern Mediterranean, near the Sinai Peninsula. This was the fourth day of the Six-Day War between Israel and several Arab states. The Liberty was a 455-foot “technical research” ship, essentially a signals intelligence (SIGINT) platform with elaborate antennas and over 100 crewmen below decks monitoring communications. The ship was lightly armed (only four .50-caliber machine guns) and clearly marked as American – flying a U.S. flag and bearing large hull lettering. American neutrality in the Arab-Israeli conflict had been declared, and the Liberty had been directed to stay at least 100 nautical miles from the active combat zone. As the war raged onshore, Israeli aircraft frequently flew out to sea. Liberty’s crew reported routine Israeli reconnaissance flights over the ship earlier that morning and midday; in fact, some Liberty crewmen even waved to the low-flying Israeli pilots, confident they had been identified as a U.S. vessel. The geopolitical climate was tense, but there was no indication from U.S. commanders that the Liberty was in imminent danger from any side.

Sequence of Events on June 8, 1967

Initial Surveillance: During the morning of June 8, Israeli reconnaissance aircraft made several passes over the USS Liberty. Crewmen noted the Star of David insignia on the planes and heard Israeli pilots radioing a shore control tower, identifying the ship as American. At around 9:50 a.m. local time, Liberty’s log recorded two Israeli Mirage jets circling the ship. Israeli headquarters thus had Liberty’s identity and position well before noon. Despite this, shortly after noon, Israeli forces received erroneous reports of an unknown ship bombarding Israeli units near El Arish on the Sinai coast. Believing they faced an Egyptian enemy vessel offshore, the Israeli naval command issued orders to find and engage any unidentified ship in the area.

Air Attack: Just before 2:00 p.m. local time, without warning, Israeli fighter jets swept in and attacked the USS Liberty. Pairs of Dassault Mirage III fighters made the first strafing runs. Flying low and fast, the Mirages struck with 30mm cannons and rockets, shattering the ship’s antennae and riddling the decks with shrapnel. Within minutes, Liberty’s topside was a scene of carnage: men were cut down at their stations, and fires erupted on the deck. Survivors recall that the initial explosions tore large holes in the deck and superstructure, and that anyone in exposed gun mounts or on the deck was hit by shrapnel. As the Mirages expended their ammunition, a second wave of Dassault Mystère IV fighter-bombers (or Super Mystères) arrived. These jets carried napalm and additional rockets. The Mystères dropped napalm canisters on Liberty’s bridge and communications areas, engulfing parts of the ship in flame and thick smoke. They also continued strafing runs with cannons. Crew members bravely fought back the fires and attempted to man the Liberty’s four .50-cal machine guns, but those weapons were utterly outmatched by jet aircraft. On the bridge, Captain William McGonagle was seriously wounded by flying shrapnel, yet he stayed at his post, directing his crew and steering the ship as best as possible. Amid the chaos, Liberty’s radio operators struggled to send out a distress call – initially finding that the ship’s standard Navy tactical frequencies were being jammed by the attackers. Finally, radiomen managed to transmit an SOS on a different frequency, reporting: “Under attack by unidentified jet aircraft, require immediate assistance.” This urgent call was received by the U.S. Sixth Fleet command ship and the aircraft carrier USS Saratoga, which was about 500 miles away. The Saratoga launched a flight of armed fighter-bombers toward Liberty’s location. However, those rescue aircraft would never reach the Liberty (as discussed later). Meanwhile, the air assault continued unabated for about 20-25 minutes. Liberty’s crew raised a giant American flag (7 ft by 13 ft “holiday colors”) after the smaller ensign was shot down, hoping to assert their identity. The attacking jets, which were reportedly unmarked (lacking visible insignia during the attack), did not relent. By approximately 2:25 p.m., the ship’s topside was devastated – antenna masts shot away, radio rooms in ruins, and dozens of crewmen killed or wounded. Many survivors later testified to the incredible heroism of their shipmates during these moments – from Captain McGonagle’s leadership despite his wounds, to sailors who carried injured comrades to safety through burning compartments. Still, the worst was yet to come.

Torpedo Boat Assault: As the air attack broke off, three Israeli navy motor torpedo boats (MTBs) closed in on the Liberty. These were fast attack craft armed with torpedoes and machine guns. They had been dispatched earlier once the unidentified ship was reported, and were now arriving on scene around 2:30 p.m. The MTBs approached in formation from the Liberty’s starboard side (the ship’s right side). Liberty’s crew initially thought these might be rescue boats, but instead the craft opened fire with their deck guns as they drew nearer. Signalmen on the Liberty tried using a flashing light to send identification (they flashed “USS LIBERTY – U.S. NAVY SHIP”) toward the boats. There was no response except continued machine-gun fire from the Israeli boats. Captain McGonagle, seeing the boats flying an Israeli flag now, ordered Liberty’s men to hold fire — he did not want to accidentally fire on allies and hoped to signal them. Despite this, one of Liberty’s machine gunners, perhaps not hearing the order amid the noise, fired a brief burst toward the boats. The MTBs then launched a salvo of torpedoes. At 2:35 p.m., one of five torpedoes struck Liberty on the starboard side. The torpedo hit the ship’s intelligence collection center (the “research spaces”), tearing a massive hole in the hull. In an instant, dozens of men working in those spaces were killed. Crew members later measured the torpedo’s gash in the hull: roughly 39 feet wide, spanning below-waterline sections of the ship. Seawater rushed in, flooding the lower decks, and the Liberty took a sharp list to starboard. Twenty-five American crewmen died outright from that single torpedo hit. The other torpedoes narrowly missed – one passed just astern of the ship, and others ran off target.

Machine-Gunning and Rescue Attempts: After the torpedo strike, the Israeli torpedo boats circled the now-crippled Liberty for an extended period, spraying the ship with cannon and machine-gun fire. Survivors describe how the MTBs targeted anything that moved on deck – crewmen fighting fires or helping the wounded were strafed, and even stretcher-bearers were not spared. With the ship in grave danger of sinking, Captain McGonagle gave the order to prepare to abandon ship. The crew threw the few remaining life rafts overboard into the sea. Disturbingly, the Israeli boats were seen shooting at these life rafts in the water. One raft – the only serviceable motor launch – was even reportedly taken out of the water by the Israelis, leaving Liberty’s crew with virtually no means to evacuate safely. (This destruction of life rafts, if deliberate, was a violation of international law and later became one of the most controversial aspects of the attack.) Liberty’s men, many of them wounded, were shocked and outraged at this continued assault. They worked frantically to keep the ship afloat: damage control teams shored up bulkheads around the torpedo hole, and engines were kept running to stabilize power. Despite raging fires and flooding, the crew’s determined actions kept Liberty from capsizing.

Cessation of Attack: The hellish attack finally subsided after approximately 75 minutes of sustained air and sea assault. By around 3:15 p.m. local time, Israeli forces ceased fire as the torpedo boats observed the Liberty was heavily damaged and possibly sinking. Not long after, at about 3:30-4:00 p.m., Israeli military helicopters arrived overhead. These helicopters carried armed troops (apparently expecting to conduct a boarding or rescue). Initially, an Israeli helo pilot radioed that he saw men in the water and requested permission to assist survivors. Israeli controllers, still apparently unsure of the stricken ship’s identity, at one point told the helicopter team that the ship was Egyptian and to look for Arabic-speaking survivors. Shortly thereafter, however, the Israelis realized the grave mistake – the ship was American. Israeli naval commanders then radioed an apology and offered help. One of the torpedo boats signaled to Liberty, asking (in English) “Do you need assistance?” By this time (around 4:30 p.m.), Liberty’s distrustful and enraged crew rejected the offer with an unmistakably rude reply, and the Israeli vessels withdrew. The attack was over, but the ordeal of the crew was not.

American Reinforcements (Recalled): During the attack, the USS Liberty’s distress calls had reached the U.S. Sixth Fleet. Initially, as mentioned, the carrier USS Saratoga and also USS America each launched fighter aircraft to come to Liberty’s aid. At 2:09 p.m. (Washington DC time 8:09 a.m.), the Sixth Fleet received word of the attack. The launched American jets, some of which were nuclear-armed because of the high alert status during the regional war, raced toward the Liberty. Yet incredibly, before they arrived on scene, those rescue missions were aborted. Vice Admiral William Martin, the Sixth Fleet commander, recalled the aircraft on direct orders from the U.S. Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara – and, according to later accounts, President Lyndon Johnson himself. Crewmen on the Liberty, still under fire and desperately awaiting U.S. air cover, were unaware that their would-be rescuers had been turned back. The reasoning given later for recalling the planes was confusion over the attackers’ identity and fears of drawing the U.S. into the broader Arab-Israeli war – especially once it was learned that the attack was by Israel, a U.S. ally. This decision meant that Liberty was left to fend for itself during the crucial moments of the attack, heightening the crew’s sense of abandonment. It was not until much later that evening that U.S. support finally reached the Liberty.

Casualties and Immediate Aftermath for the Crew

The human cost to the USS Liberty’s crew was horrifying. Out of a crew of 294 officers and sailors (which included a Navy civilian and Marines assigned to the SIGINT unit), 34 Americans were killed in the attack. This included officers on the bridge, deck crew, communications technicians, intelligence specialists, and one civilian linguist. Another 171 crew members were wounded, many grievously – a casualty rate of over 70%. The wounds ranged from shrapnel and gunshot injuries to severe burns from the napalm and explosions. Dozens of men suffered lifelong disabilities from this single afternoon of violence.

Survivors recall scenes of intense heroism and tragic loss during and after the attack. Captain McGonagle, despite serious wounds to his body, remained in command on the bridge throughout the assault and the aftermath. He dragged himself across the blood-slick deck to take the ship’s wheel when the helmsman was killed, and he continued giving orders to save the ship. Many crew members displayed extraordinary valor: for example, Navy corpsmen and fellow sailors tended to the injured under fire, and damage control teams kept spraying foam on fires and shoring up bulkheads even as bullets struck around them. In one poignant instance, a young quartermaster, Francis Brown, took over the helm after the initial helmsman fell – Brown was fatally shot at his post, dying to keep the ship under control. Men like Lt. George Golden in the engineering spaces refused to abandon their stations, performing critical actions to keep Liberty’s power and pumps running, thus preventing immediate sinking.

By late afternoon, as the smoke cleared and the Israelis had withdrawn, the Liberty was a crippled ruin. Large sections of the deck were charred and pocked with holes from rocket and cannon hits. The forward starboard side showed a gaping wound where the torpedo had struck – a hole that extended nearly two decks high and wide enough to drive a truck through. Inside the ship, sailors faced a gruesome task: recovering the bodies of their shipmates from the shattered compartments, and treating the scores of wounded with the limited medical supplies on board. The ship’s doctor and corpsmen converted areas into makeshift triage stations. Some critically injured crew had to endure hours of agony until help arrived.

Finally, in the evening of June 8, after the attack had ended, U.S. Navy destroyers USS Davis (DD-937) and USS Massey (DD-778) arrived on the scene to assist Liberty. They had been dispatched by Sixth Fleet once it was clear Liberty was afloat and needed aid. Through the night and into June 9, medical evacuation of the worst-injured crewmen took place. Helicopters ferried several of the most critical casualties to the aircraft carrier USS America for emergency treatment. The remaining Liberty crew – including many wounded who refused evacuation – worked through the night to stabilize their ship. They controlled flooding, extinguished remaining fires, and even began the grim work of burying some of the dead at sea (as per naval tradition, several bodies that could not be preserved were committed to the sea after a brief ceremony).

By morning of June 9, against all odds, the USS Liberty was still afloat and under her own power at reduced speed. Captain McGonagle, with his bridge destroyed, had a makeshift command post set up on a secondary conn. The ship was able to navigate to safer waters with the escort of U.S. warships. Ultimately, the Liberty limped to the island of Malta, arriving on June 14, 1967, where the ship underwent temporary repairs in drydock. U.S. Navy investigators boarded at Malta to survey the damage and collect evidence for the upcoming inquiry.

The treatment of the Liberty’s crew by U.S. authorities in the immediate aftermath was a mixture of care and constraint. On the one hand, the Navy provided medical attention, leave, and support for the traumatised survivors. The wounded were hospitalized and eventually returned home. Families of the fallen were notified and later received military honors for their loved ones. On the other hand, as soon as the crew was safe, the U.S. government moved to control information about the incident. Survivors were debriefed by military officers and cautioned not to discuss the attack openly. According to multiple crew accounts, officers (including Rear Admiral Isaac Kidd, who led the Navy’s inquiry) ordered the men to remain silent about the details, telling them that the incident was highly classified. Some sailors later recalled being threatened with court-martial or prison if they spoke to the press or even their families about what they experienced. This gag order deeply upset many Liberty crewmen, who felt that they were being asked to bury the truth of what had happened to them.

Official Explanations: U.S. and Israeli Government Positions

In the wake of the attack, both the Israeli and U.S. governments moved quickly to explain – and contain – the incident. Israel’s official explanation was that the attack on the USS Liberty was a tragic case of mistaken identity during the fog of war. The Israeli government issued an apology on June 9, 1967, via diplomatic channels. They asserted that their forces had believed the Liberty to be an Egyptian military vessel posing a threat, and that the attack was “an innocent mistake” made in the heat of battle, with no malice toward the United States. Specifically, Israeli officials claimed that their naval observers and pilots had confused the Liberty with a known Egyptian transport ship, the El Quseir, which was believed to be in the area. El Quseir was a much smaller, older vessel (a former horse transport), but Israeli reports contended that from a distance and at speed, Liberty’s profile resembled the Egyptian ship. Israel explained that its forces were on high alert due to reported Egyptian naval activity and coastal shelling of Israeli troops. When an unidentified ship was detected near the Sinai coast, Israeli commanders concluded it was an enemy ship shelling their forces at El Arish and acted accordingly.

Israeli accounts described a “chain of errors”: First, they cited an erroneous report that Israeli troops were under naval bombardment off El Arish (in fact, no such Egyptian naval shelling was confirmed that day). This led the Israeli Navy to assume any unknown vessel in that vicinity was hostile. Second, Israeli radar and patrol boats mistakenly assessed Liberty’s speed as 28–30 knots – far faster than the Liberty could actually go – leading them to think the contact was a speedy enemy warship rather than the slower American ship. This spurred the order to attack from the air. Third, Israeli commanders said that once the torpedo boats engaged, they attempted to identify the ship but received no response to visual signals. They claimed Liberty had no flag flying (or it was not visible) and that in one instance the ship even signaled back in a confusing way, contributing to the belief it was an enemy. Only after the torpedo hit and some time had passed did the Israelis recognize the Liberty as American, at which point they halted the attack and offered aid. Israel expressed “deep regret” and later paid compensation for the loss of life and damage (see Aftermath section for details). The Israeli government also convened military inquiries (one led by Colonel Ram Ron in June 1967, and a follow-up legal inquiry by Judge Yeshayahu Yerushalmi in July) to examine their forces’ conduct. These Israeli investigations concluded there was no criminal negligence, essentially accepting that the incident was a battlefield mistake.

The U.S. government’s official position closely aligned with the Israeli explanation, at least publicly. President Lyndon B. Johnson’s administration, after initial protests and shock, accepted Israel’s apology and explanation. In the days following the attack, the State Department issued statements of regret for the loss of American lives but did not cast blame publicly on Israel. U.S. officials emphasized the need to determine all the facts but ultimately treated it as a terrible accident in a combat zone. Privately, President Johnson and his advisors were dismayed and angered by the incident; however, they quickly decided that maintaining the U.S.-Israeli alliance and the delicate geopolitical balance in the Middle East took precedence. By June 10, Johnson had ordered that the investigation be handled quietly and without fanfare. There would be no public presidential commission or Congressional hearings at that time.

Within weeks, a U.S. Navy Court of Inquiry (a military investigative tribunal) was convened to review the attack. This Navy Court of Inquiry, led by Rear Adm. Isaac Kidd, met in Malta and took testimony from Liberty’s crew and reviewing physical evidence. In its formal report issued in late June 1967, the Navy court concluded that the Israelis had in fact mistaken the Liberty for an enemy vessel and that the “attack was unintentional and due to identification errors.” The court’s findings noted that the Liberty was not at fault and that the ship’s markings and flag should have been recognized, yet it stopped short of accusing Israel of deliberate wrongdoing. The Johnson Administration classified much of the inquiry and released only a summary, reinforcing the narrative of a regrettable accident.

It’s important to highlight that from the outset, many aspects of the official story were met with skepticism and were disputed by evidence from survivors and others. For instance, Israel’s claim that the Liberty was not flying a flag or that it was mistaken for an Egyptian ship does not square with testimony and physical evidence. Liberty’s crew had ensured a large American flag was flying (even raising a second, larger flag during the attack), and the ship’s hull was painted with its name and identification number in English. Weather conditions were clear and visibility excellent. The Egyptian vessel El Quseir, which Israel cited as the supposed source of confusion, was much smaller (Liberty was about 200 feet longer) and, critically, was known to be rusting in port at the time – it was not operational at sea. The idea that highly trained pilots and naval officers could confuse the modern, antenna-laden Liberty with an old Egyptian freighter anchored elsewhere struck many as far-fetched. U.S. intelligence analysts in 1967 noted that while Liberty and El Quseir had superficial similarities in silhouette (both had a single funnel and similar masts placement), the Liberty’s unique antennas and larger size should have been obvious upon closer inspection. Additionally, Israeli forces had been listening to communications in the area; it later emerged that some Israeli pilots had reported seeing an American flag, and at least one Israeli pilot expressed doubt during the attack, noting the ship’s hull markings were in Latin letters (not Arabic). Those concerns were either not communicated in time or were ignored by the attacking forces.

The Israeli Navy also asserted that Liberty did not respond to signaling and even fired on the torpedo boats. Liberty’s crew countered that any failure to signal was due to battle damage (their signal lamp operator was literally shot mid-message), and the only gunfire from Liberty was an unauthorized short burst from a machine gun as a panicked reaction to being strafed. By all survivor accounts, the Liberty was never engaged in any offensive action – it was caught completely by surprise. Moreover, the ferocity and duration of the attack – including the machine-gunning of life rafts – seemed wildly disproportionate to the goal of neutralizing a suspected threat. These factors led Liberty’s crew and many observers to doubt the “fog of war accident” explanation.

In summary, the official U.S. and Israeli stance in 1967 was that the attack on USS Liberty was a mistake: Israel did not know it was firing on an American ship, and once they realized, they stopped and apologized. Both governments publicly stood by this version. However, as we will see, evidence and testimony that emerged later strongly challenged the veracity of certain claims (such as the visibility of the flag, the identification of the ship, and the extent of Israeli awareness) – suggesting that at least some elements of the official narrative were false or at best deeply flawed.

Aftermath and Investigations

In the immediate diplomatic aftermath, Israel’s government took actions to make amends. Besides official apologies, Israel agreed to pay compensation. In 1968, Israel paid $3.32 million to the families of the 34 Americans killed. In March 1969, it paid $3.57 million to Liberty’s wounded survivors. Much later, in 1980, a final settlement of $6 million was paid for property damage to the ship. These payments were accompanied by Israel’s continued insistence that the attack had been a tragic error. No Israeli personnel were criminally charged or disciplined in any meaningful way as a result of Israel’s own inquiries – the findings were that while mistakes were made, there was no willful negligence. Essentially, Israel considered the matter closed after offering compensation.

On the American side, the Navy’s Court of Inquiry (completed in July 1967) was the primary official investigation. The court’s proceedings were largely classified, and only a brief unclassified summary was released to the public. This lack of transparency at the time left many questions unanswered and fueled discontent among the crew. The Navy court’s report acknowledged the heroism of Liberty’s crew and recommended Captain McGonagle for the Medal of Honor for his valor and leadership. (Notably, Captain McGonagle did receive the Medal of Honor in 1968 – but in a break with tradition, the award ceremony was kept low-profile at the Washington Navy Yard rather than the White House, and President Johnson did not personally present the medal. This unusual decision was widely seen as a way to avoid drawing public attention to the circumstances of the award, since normally the nation’s highest military honor bestowed for action in combat would be a celebrated event.)

Over the years immediately following 1967, no full public Congressional inquiry was convened, which was highly unusual given the scale of the incident and loss of American life. Typically, an attack on a U.S. Navy ship – especially one by a foreign nation – would trigger Congressional hearings. But in the Liberty’s case, the Johnson Administration and later the Nixon Administration did not encourage such examination. A few internal U.S. government reviews took place behind closed doors. For instance, CIA analysts wrote contemporaneous reports (some of which were later declassified) that largely accepted that the attack was a mistake, though with some noted puzzlement at how it occurred. The National Security Agency (NSA), which had many personnel aboard Liberty, conducted its own internal damage assessment but did not publicly release its findings. The Joint Chiefs of Staff reviewed the Navy inquiry but did not push further. Secretary of State Dean Rusk and Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara each privately handled aspects of the fallout (Rusk in communicating U.S. displeasure to Israel, and McNamara in managing military and political responses), but neither pushed for a public reckoning.

For the Liberty’s crew, the aftermath was frustrating. They were dispersed to other assignments, many still nursing injuries. For years, survivors were hesitant (and in some cases felt outright forbidden) to speak openly about the attack. Family members of the fallen were given the official line of an accident; some later learned from survivors that there was more to the story and joined the call for a deeper investigation.

In the decades after 1967, independent investigations and continued controversy kept the Liberty incident alive in the public consciousness, albeit sporadically. Journalists, scholars, and the survivors themselves sought out declassified documents and lobbied Congress to revisit the case. Notable developments include:

Survivor Accounts: In 1979, Liberty officer James M. Ennes Jr. published Assault on the Liberty, a detailed memoir and investigation. Ennes’ book documented the crew’s perspective and marshaled evidence suggesting the attack was no accident. This book, along with others by Liberty veterans and investigators, kept pressure on the U.S. government to acknowledge discrepancies in the official story. Survivor accounts consistently refuted key points of the Israeli explanation and accused their own government of suppressing the truth.
Statements by U.S. Officials: Over the years, several high-ranking U.S. officials who were in office in 1967 came forward to express their personal doubts about the official narrative. Secretary of State Dean Rusk, in his memoirs and interviews, stated that he never believed the attack was an accident. He wrote that Israeli forces had ample information to identify the Liberty and that the attack “could not possibly have been an accident,” reflecting his view that the Israeli explanation was not credible. Similarly, Clark Clifford, an advisor to President Johnson (who reviewed the incident in July 1967), called the Israeli story “unconvincing.” Perhaps most blunt was the assessment of Admiral Thomas Moorer, who was Chief of Naval Operations in 1967 and later Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff: Moorer became an outspoken critic of the handling of the Liberty incident, asserting that a cover-up had taken place at the highest levels.
NSA Intercepts and Tapes: A significant piece of new evidence emerged in the 1990s and 2000s as the NSA gradually declassified signals intelligence related to the attack. In 2003, the NSA released audio tapes of intercepted Israeli military communications from the time of the incident. These were recordings of Israeli Air Force radio traffic, captured by a U.S. EC-121 surveillance aircraft flying near the scene during and after the attack. The NSA tapes, with translated transcripts, seemed to confirm parts of the sequence – for example, they recorded Israeli helicopter pilots being dispatched to the Liberty (initially thought to be an Egyptian ship) and later reporting seeing an American flag and calling off hostile action. The intercepts show that Israeli forces did not conclusively identify the Liberty as American until after the attack was over. However, some observers pointed out that these recordings begin after the air attack and do not include the communications of the jet pilots who initially attacked Liberty, leaving an important gap. Critics argue that any intercepts of the fighter pilots’ communications (if they were recorded by the NSA) have never been released; several former NSA employees have claimed that such intercepts existed and indicated the Israeli pilots were aware of the ship’s American identity during the attack. The NSA and U.S. government have maintained that no such “smoking gun” recordings exist or that they were never intercepted in real-time. The ambiguity of the intercept evidence continues to be debated.
The Moorer Commission (Independent Inquiry, 2003): On the 35th anniversary of the attack, an independent committee of prominent Americans convened to re-examine the evidence. This panel was chaired by retired Admiral Thomas H. Moorer and included General Raymond Davis (USMC, a Medal of Honor recipient), Rear Admiral Merlin Staring (former Judge Advocate General of the Navy), and former U.S. Ambassador James Akins. In 2003, this Moorer Commission issued a report sharply criticizing the official account. Their findings stated that the attack was likely deliberate and that there had been a systematic cover-up by the U.S. government. The commission noted that never in U.S. history had a rescue mission for an American ship been recalled while an attack was ongoing, as happened with Liberty. They collected statements from former officials and military personnel, including some directly involved in communications on June 8, 1967, to support their conclusions. The Moorer Commission’s report concluded that Israel’s intent was to sink the Liberty and leave no survivors, and that only the ship’s miraculous survival prevented a worse outcome. It further asserted that powerful political forces in the U.S. had suppressed the truth to protect Israel from the consequences of this incident. The Commission called for a new Congressional investigation. Despite its high-profile signatories, this report did not result in government action, but it stands as a summary of the case made by those who dispute the official story.
Journalistic Investigations: Investigative journalists have periodically revisited the USS Liberty attack. A notable example is the Chicago Tribune’s extensive investigative report published on October 2, 2007 (for the 40th anniversary). Tribune reporters gathered declassified documents and interviewed survivors and former U.S. officials. Their report uncovered U.S. intelligence memos and NSA officials’ testimonies suggesting that the Israeli pilots knew the Liberty was American. One NSA deputy director, retired in later interviews, recalled seeing transcripts of Israeli cockpit communications that included an pilot identifying the target as a U.S. ship. The Tribune also found that the Navy Court of Inquiry in 1967 had been rushed and limited, with witnesses given little time and some evidence ignored. The article pointed out that senior Johnson administration officials, fearful of complicating ties with Israel, had decided early on to treat the matter as settled. Similarly, the Baltimore Sun in 1991 and other media outlets over the years published stories with new interviews (for example, with Israeli military participants or U.S. intelligence officers) that added pieces to the puzzle. These investigative pieces often bolstered the credibility of the survivors’ version of events, while highlighting contradictions and implausibilities in the official explanations.

Throughout all these investigations, one pattern is clear: no U.S. personnel were ever publicly held accountable for curtailing the inquiry or silencing information, and no Israeli personnel were punished for the attack itself. The Liberty’s servicemen received some recognition – for example, the crew was eventually awarded a Presidential Unit Citation for their heroism and perseverance, and other medals were awarded (the ship’s radio operator received a Silver Star, and other crew earned Bronze Stars and Purple Hearts). But many of these commendations were written in a way that avoided mentioning Israel as the attacker (the citations referred to “enemy” forces or left the attacker unnamed).

Suppression of Information and Cover-Up Allegations

A major aspect of the USS Liberty story is the persistent belief – supported by considerable evidence – that information about the attack was deliberately suppressed by both the U.S. and Israeli governments. Over the years, accusations of a “cover-up” have been made by Liberty survivors, U.S. military officials, and investigators. The term “cover-up” in this context refers to the allegation that officials knew the attack was not a simple accident but chose to conceal evidence and shut down rigorous inquiry to avoid political repercussions.

From the American side, several pieces of evidence point to intentional suppression:

Crew Gag Orders: As mentioned, Liberty’s crew were explicitly ordered not to discuss the incident. While the Navy often classifies operational matters, survivors felt this went beyond normal security – they believed the order was to protect political sensitivities rather than military secrets (since the Israelis’ role was already known). Sailors have recounted how Admiral Kidd and other officers told them never to breathe a word about the attack to anyone, warning of dire consequences if they did. This effectively stifled public testimony from the very people who experienced the event. For decades, no Liberty survivor was invited to testify publicly before Congress.
Handling of the Navy Inquiry: Lieutenant Commander Ward Boston, who served as senior legal counsel to the 1967 Navy Court of Inquiry, came forward years later to voice his personal misgivings. In a sworn affidavit in 2002, Capt. Ward Boston (USN, Ret.) stated that the inquiry’s conclusion of accidental attack was preordained by superiors in Washington. He claimed that he and Admiral Kidd had been under pressure from the Johnson Administration to wrap up the investigation quickly and agree with the “mistake” narrative. Ward Boston further declared that based on the evidence he saw, he personally believed the attack was deliberate. He also recalled Admiral Kidd confiding that he believed the attack was no accident, but that Kidd felt intense political pressure to avoid saying so. These are serious statements from the Navy’s own inquiry team, indicating that the true findings were suppressed.
Statements by High Officials: Beyond Dean Rusk and Admiral Moorer (already noted), others have lent credence to cover-up claims. Richard Helms, the CIA Director in 1967, later wrote that he found Israel’s explanations unconvincing though the CIA had to operate within the administration’s policy of acceptance. George Ball, Undersecretary of State at the time, years later wrote that he suspected the attack might have been deliberate. Perhaps most shockingly, in private, President Lyndon Johnson himself is alleged to have made remarks indicating political motives. The most cited example: Rear Admiral Lawrence Geis, who commanded the Sixth Fleet carriers during the incident, confided to a Navy colleague (who later went public) that when he protested the order to recall the rescue flights, Secretary McNamara told him to stand down, and President Johnson added he “didn’t care if the ship sank, he would not embarrass an ally.” If true, this quote suggests Johnson was willing to sacrifice the ship rather than confront Israel. While this account is second-hand (Admiral Geis passed it on to a Navy captain after his retirement), it has been repeated by several survivors and is seen as a candid insight into the President’s priorities.
Political and Media Pressure: Liberty survivors and their supporters have often pointed to the unusual lack of public scrutiny as evidence of a cover-up. In 1967, the Six-Day War’s outcome (an overwhelming Israeli victory) was front-page news, overshadowing the Liberty incident. Johnson’s administration, which was also bogged down in the Vietnam War, did not seek publicity on the Liberty. Some in Congress did ask questions, but they were given the State Department’s boilerplate responses that multiple investigations had concluded it was an accident (a talking-point that Liberty advocates argue is misleading, since none of those were full public investigations of the attack itself). Over the years, whenever efforts arose in Congress to open a new inquiry, they were quietly deflected. Veterans and researchers note that the pro-Israel lobby in Washington was exceptionally influential; any implication that Israel knowingly killed American servicemen would strain the strategic alliance and cause domestic political fallout. As a result, there was a strong impetus for politicians to let the matter rest. Even the media often steered clear of deep investigation for many years – it was, and remains, a sensitive topic entangled with international alliance politics.

On the Israeli side, Israel also had reasons to conceal certain facts about the Liberty attack. At the time, admitting even the possibility of deliberate attack on a U.S. ship would have been catastrophic for Israel’s relationship with its most important ally. Israeli officials maintained tight control over information: the military inquiries (Ram Ron and Yerushalmi) were not released in full to the public for decades. When some Israeli documents were declassified many years later, they showed internal discussions acknowledging that Liberty had been identified earlier on June 8 than publicly admitted. Israeli authorities have consistently denied that any order was given to attack an American ship knowingly. Detractors have speculated on possible motives Israel might have had if the attack were intentional – theories range from wanting to prevent Liberty from intercepting sensitive military communications (such as plans to seize the Golan Heights the next day, or evidence of alleged massacres of Egyptian prisoners), to a scheme to draw the U.S. into the war by blaming Egypt (though that theory seems far-fetched as events unfolded). No conclusive evidence of a specific motive has emerged from Israeli archives. However, it is documented that Israeli commanders had standing orders to secure their coasts during the war and to attack unidentified vessels. The Liberty, unfortunately, sailed into a lethal miscommunications maelstrom. Israeli officials insist any cover-up accusation on their part is moot because there was nothing deliberate to cover up – a stance not accepted by the Liberty survivors.

In aggregate, the evidence strongly suggests that political motivations led the U.S. government to quickly bury the controversy. The United States was in 1967 becoming a close Cold War patron of Israel. Only a year after the Liberty incident, the U.S. started selling Israel advanced arms (Phantom jets) and solidifying a strategic partnership. Confronting Israel or accusing it of knowingly attacking a U.S. ship would have imperiled this emerging alliance. President Johnson, a master of Realpolitik, likely calculated that sustaining Israel’s regional position (as a bulwark against Soviet-aligned Arab states) and avoiding domestic political fights were more important than pursuing punitive action for the Liberty attack. Indeed, Johnson was heavily reliant on support from pro-Israel American constituents and Congress members, especially as the Vietnam War eroded his popularity. Additionally, the U.S. military and intelligence community might have had their own reasons to tread lightly – the Liberty’s mission was secret, and public inquiries risked exposing sources, methods, and intelligence priorities.

Thus, while American leaders did privately seethe and some, like Dean Rusk, wanted at least a diplomatic wrist-slap for Israel, ultimately no public accountability was demanded. This outcome – essentially forgiving and forgetting the incident officially – left a lasting bitterness among the survivors and some of their commanders. As Admiral Moorer later said, it was unprecedented for American servicemen attacked on the high seas to be left without a full, public investigation and without their attackers being held responsible. To the Liberty crew, this was a betrayal: many felt that they had been forsaken first in the attack and later in the halls of power. The phrase “cover-up” in their view covers both the suppression of facts and the lack of justice or closure.

Legacy and Geopolitical Implications

The attack on USS Liberty remains one of the most controversial friendly-fire (or allegedly deliberate) incidents in modern military history. In terms of geopolitical implications, the incident had surprisingly little effect on U.S.-Israeli relations in the short term – which is exactly what the Johnson Administration intended. By swiftly accepting Israel’s apologies and reparations, the U.S. signaled that it would not allow the Liberty tragedy to derail the partnership. Israel, for its part, was relieved to have avoided a rupture with its superpower ally and worked to repair any lingering mistrust. Behind closed doors, some U.S. military officials were far less trusting of Israel after 1967. There were reports that the U.S. Navy quietly adjusted protocols when operating near Israeli forces, aware that identification might not be assumed. But at the highest diplomatic levels, the U.S. and Israel moved on. In fact, the late 1960s and 1970s saw significantly increased U.S. military aid and diplomatic support to Israel.

For the survivors and families, the legacy was one of personal grief and a quest for acknowledgment. Over the years, survivors formed the USS Liberty Veterans Association to remember their fallen comrades and to lobby for transparency. They have held memorials every June 8 to honor the 34 lost. These veterans also relentlessly pursued the truth, writing books, speaking out in documentaries, and urging the government to declassify all materials related to the attack. They achieved some recognition: for instance, Captain McGonagle’s Medal of Honor (awarded in 1968) and the ship’s Presidential Unit Citation are part of the official record, even if the wording was muted. In 2009, the Naval Cryptologic Veterans Association dedicated a Liberty Memorial at the National Security Agency’s National Cryptologic Museum in Maryland, listing the names of the fallen cryptologists and sailors – a sign that within the intelligence community, the sacrifice of the Liberty crew is respected and remembered.

Internationally, the Liberty incident is often cited in discussions of the law of armed conflict and identification of naval vessels. It led to improved communication procedures between the U.S. Navy and the Israeli Defense Forces to prevent future mishaps. However, the incident also fueled conspiracy theories and deep distrust. In the Arab world and Soviet bloc, it was taken as evidence of U.S.-Israeli collusion – a theory that the U.S. would allow Israel to even kill Americans to blame Egypt (though there’s no evidence the U.S. had foreknowledge or that such a false-flag scenario was in play in reality).

Why were there no consequences for those involved? In Israel, the officers who coordinated the attack (in the air and naval forces) continued their careers. One of the Mirage pilots, Brig. Gen. Yiftah Spector, continued to serve and decades later publicly defended his actions, insisting the ship was assumed hostile and no flag was seen. The patrol boat commander, Captain Moshe Oren, also maintained that they followed the information they had and that Liberty had not identified itself. The Israeli government never faulted these men. From Israel’s view, accepting blame beyond “honest mistake” would unfairly tarnish soldiers who were protecting their country in wartime.

In the U.S., officials who may have played a role in suppressing the response similarly faced no repercussions – indeed many went on to prominence. Robert McNamara, for example, was never officially questioned about the Liberty while in office, and in his memoirs he barely mentioned it. The decisions made on June 8, 1967, at the White House level were kept opaque. Only historical research decades later shed light on them. By then, most of the principal actors (Johnson, McNamara, Rusk, etc.) had died or were very elderly.

In the end, the USS Liberty’s story stands as a cautionary tale. It underscores the complexity of wartime command-and-control, the potential for disastrous friendly fire, and the uncomfortable reality that political expediency can sometimes trump justice. To this day, many Americans – including former high officials – believe that the full truth of the Liberty attack was covered up and that Israel deliberately attacked the ship. On the other side, Israel and its supporters consider the matter conclusively resolved as a fog-of-war mistake, and they point to the lack of any clear motive for Israel to knowingly attack a U.S. ally. The incident has thus become a persistent point of friction in U.S.-Israel discourse, periodically reignited by new revelations or anniversaries.

For the men who were on the Liberty, the attack left deep scars both physical and psychological. They not only endured a terrifying assault by a friendly nation, but also felt the weight of silence and disbelief afterward. Their efforts over decades have ensured that the Liberty will not be forgotten. The Navy has decommissioned and scrapped the physical ship (USS Liberty was struck from the register in 1968 due to the damage), but the memory lives on through memorials and the extensive historical record now available. The Liberty veterans’ unofficial motto became “Honor the fallen by speaking the truth.” As such, they have made it a point that the story – including the uncomfortable parts – is documented for history.

In conclusion, the June 8, 1967 attack on USS Liberty was a convergence of wartime confusion and deadly force, followed by a murky and contentious aftermath. Verifiable facts show that the ship was clearly marked as American and in international waters, that Israeli forces attacked with overwhelming firepower, and that 34 Americans died needlessly. Official U.S. and Israeli explanations painted it as a tragic case of mistaken identity – yet significant evidence has emerged to cast doubt on that narrative. Over the years, investigations (official and independent) have inched closer to the truth, but a lingering sense remains that justice was not fully served. No individuals or nation were held openly accountable, largely due to broader strategic considerations. The Liberty’s saga serves as a somber reminder of the costs of war and the complexities of alliance politics, and it stands as a testament to the bravery of a crew that, despite all odds and betrayal, refused to let their ship or their story sink beneath the waves.

Sources

U.S. Central Intelligence Agency, Intelligence Memorandum: “The Israeli Attack on the USS Liberty” (June 13, 1967) – declassified memorandum summarizing the sequence of events and initial analysis, from Foreign Relations of the United States, 1964–1968, Vol. XIX.
U.S. National Security Agency (NSA), Audio Intercepts and Transcripts (June 8, 1967) – declassified NSA recordings of Israeli pilots’ and controllers’ communications (released 2003), with translations.
Preliminary Inquiry by Israeli Defense Forces (Ram Ron Commission, June 1967) – IDF report on the Liberty attack (summarized in a CIA memorandum dated June 21, 1967) outlining Israel’s explanation of the incident.
U.S. Navy Court of Inquiry Report (June 1967) – classified report of the Navy’s investigation (Admiral Isaac Kidd presiding); summary findings released by Department of Defense on June 18, 1967.
Dean Rusk, “As I Saw It” (W.W. Norton, 1990) – memoir of Secretary of State Dean Rusk, includes his account and opinion on the Liberty incident.
James M. Ennes, Jr., “Assault on the Liberty” (Random House, 1980) – first-hand account by a Liberty officer, with extensive documentation and survivor testimonies arguing the attack was deliberate.
A. Jay Cristol, “The Liberty Incident” (Brassey’s, 2002) – research by a former U.S. Navy JAG officer, presents details of the attack and concludes it was an accident (includes information from Israeli sources and U.S. archives).
Admiral Thomas H. Moorer et al., Independent Commission of Inquiry Final Report (October 2003) – findings of the Moorer Commission, which gathered eyewitness testimony and declassified records; published in the Congressional Record and via the USS Liberty Veterans Association.
John Crewdson and Joseph H. Smith, “New Revelations in Attack on American Spy Ship” – Chicago Tribune, Oct. 2, 2007 – investigative journalism piece based on interviews and newly released documents, highlighting disputed aspects and possible cover-up.
U.S. State Department, Diplomatic Notes and Correspondence on USS Liberty (June 1967) – including the Israeli Ambassador’s note of apology (June 8, 1967) and Secretary of State Rusk’s reply (June 10, 1967) protesting the attack; available in State Dept. archives and the Johnson Library.
Survivor Interviews and Oral Histories – e.g., Bryce Lockwood (Marine cryptologist) interview in Chicago Tribune (2007); Lloyd Painter (officer on Liberty) testimony in the documentary “Dead in the Water” (BBC, 2002); and other crew statements compiled by the USS Liberty Veterans Association.
Michael B. Oren, “The USS Liberty: Case Closed” (article in Azure Magazine, 2000) – analysis by historian (and former Israeli ambassador) Michael Oren defending the Israeli version of events with archival research.
James Bamford, “Body of Secrets” (Doubleday, 2001) – includes a chapter on the Liberty incident, discussing NSA’s role and intercept evidence, and postulating motives (Bamford, an intelligence expert, argues the attack was intentional).
Naval History and Heritage Command Photographic Collection – Photograph NH 97479 showing USS Liberty’s damage (torpedo hole and shell impacts) upon arrival in Malta, June 1967; and Medal of Honor citation for CAPT William L. McGonagle.
Moorer Commission affidavits: Captain Ward Boston, Jr.’s sworn Declaration (2002) and Rear Admiral Merlin Staring’s statements – published in Washington Report on Middle East Affairs, March 2004, attesting to a cover-up of the true findings of the Navy inquiry.
Correspondence and Memoranda of the Johnson Administration – e.g., Walt Rostow (Special Asst. to President) memos to LBJ on handling the Liberty crisis (June 1967), declassified in the LBJ Presidential Library archives, illuminating the political decision-making.