Shamir, the man who said no   Ofir Akunis  7-10-13 "When people talk to me about something that will be taken away from this land, I become ill; I physically can't take it," the late former Prime Minister Yitzhak Shamir once said. Today we mark one year since his passing. The seventh prime minister of Israel, Shamir is generally not considered one of the country's most charismatic leaders, and he is usually not described as someone who enraptured audiences. But still, he served in the post for seven years, during which he led Israel to some impressive accomplishments. Shamir led with a deep, intrinsic belief in the righteousness of his views, with tenacity and without overemphasizing how his decisions would be construed by others. All that was important to him -- and nothing was more important -- was the welfare of the Jewish people and the unity of the Land of Israel. In the last several years of his life, I had the opportunity to meet Shamir several times. He lived relatively close to me, and he insisted on his daily walks even in old age. My conversations with him were piercing. Shamir shared with me his earnest concerns over the concessions made by former prime ministers Ehud Barak (whom he had initially appointed IDF chief of staff) and Ariel Sharon (his longtime rival in the Likud Party). "I never relinquished a single grain of sand from Israel's soil," he used to boast. That is a fact. Shamir knew how to withstand all kinds of pressure. He was very convincing (even when it cost him harsh, sometimes hurtful criticism) that the entire Land of Israel belonged to the Jewish people. He insisted on this even when it went against the prevalent trend in Israel and certainly in the world. He insisted on it to more supportive American administrations (Ronald Reagan) and less supportive ones (George H. W. Bush and James Baker). He did and said what was in his heart. His was an entirely different approach to leadership. Today's leaders could learn from Shamir's consistent, and persistent, policies. The only thing that brought him to the negotiating table was the insistence on the supremely justified principle of conducting direct talks with our neighbors, without preconditions. There were no promises, no gestures and no construction moratoriums. On the contrary: there was a marked upswing in construction all over the country. And still, Jordanian, Syrian and Palestinian delegations all came to the Madrid Conference in 1991. The obstinance of Shamir's policies did not alienate our neighbors. In fact, it brought them closer. "They say that I am a man who only says no," he said once. "Sometimes you have to say no." Shamir was not afraid to say no to our American friends, and they only respected him more for it. Alongside his uncompromising adherence to the vision of a unified Israel, he had to withstand the Left's constant, worn-out campaign of fear known as the "demographic problem." According to the Left, if Israel doesn't retreat to pre-1967 borders, the Arabs between the Jordan and the Mediterranean Sea will outnumber the Jews. Then, like now, that demographic scare tactic lacked vision. Shamir, however, did not. Encouraging immigration to Israel and realizing the Zionist vision were fundamental building blocks in his policy, and he was wise enough to absorb a million Jews from the former Soviet Union, none of whom were left homeless, and the tens of thousands of Ethiopian Jews whose courageous trips to Israel he orchestrated himself. The unity of Israel and immigration absorption -- these are staples of Shamir's legacy. On the one-year anniversary of his death, this legacy is as relevant as ever.