Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: THURSDAY, September 16, 1993 TAG: 9311160234
SECTION: EDITORIAL PAGE: A9 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: THOMAS C. SORENSEN
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
I describe this in an attempt to convey the extreme nature of the Arab obsession with what they perceived as the supreme battle not only for ``their'' land but for their honor, their dignity, their very souls. Such intensity generated an equally fervent hatred, mixed with deep despair and soothed only by delusions of revenge and recovery. Do I exaggerate? No. Sadly, if anything, I understate.
There were Palestinian refugee camps scattered along the Lebanese coast and in the foothills of the mountains. Four years after they fled from what became Israel during the war of Israeli independence, these people were living in flimsy tents, made of goatskin and canvas, because they proudly, stubbornly and unrealistically refused to take any step that might imply their stay was anything but temporary, a brief sojourn before returning home.
I was a frequent visitor to these camps in the early 1950s, Sabra, Chatila, Bourj al-Barajneh and the others, because one of my duties was to accompany visiting American dignitaries on camp tours insisted on by their Arab hosts who felt (correctly) that the world did not know and did not care about the plight of the refugees. And their conditions were awful. The camps were muddy, cold, unsanitary and - worst of all - without jobs for the men. Except for doctors, teachers, engineers and other professionals, few were given work permits by Arab host governments. There was nothing much to do except hate. And hate they did.
The refugee problem, and the hate, were compounded after the 1967 Six-Day War in which Egypt lost the Sinai and Gaza, Syria the Golan Heights, and Jordan the West Bank and East Jerusalem. The Palestinians in diaspora despaired of ever getting satisfaction from their host governments, and in that despair was born the Palestine Liberation Organization, a collection of resistance groups and led by Yasser Arafat, chief of the largest group, Fatah. The PLO vowed to destroy Israel and reclaim all of Palestine. Its fuel was hate; its weapon, terrorism.
And that hate was, inevitably, reciprocated. Successive Israeli governments demonized Arafat and the PLO. Each act of terrorism was answered with a blow 10 or 100 times greater. But those hate-fueled refugee camps in Lebanon produced an endless supply of terrorists.
For 25 years, PLO terror has waxed and waned, but was never completely repudiated. The PLO's goal was reduced from eradication of Israel to creation of a Palestinian state in the occupied territories (but some believed, and still do, that this is merely a ploy). As the official voice of the Palestinians, the PLO itself waxed and waned, but Arafat survived a plane crash, many assassination attempts (by both Israelis and Arabs) and countless setbacks.
By the winter of 1992-93, it became increasingly clear that the PLO and Arafat himself faced the worst threat of all: irrelevance. Money was running out, because Arafat's support of Iraq in the Gulf War angered the oil-rich Arab states, which had long financed the PLO. The peace talks in Washington were getting nowhere, in part because of the Tunis-based PLO's differences with Palestinians in the West Bank. And Hamas, a coalition of Muslim fundamentalists, was challenging the PLO's claim to be ``the sole representative of the Palestinians.''
So the wily old survivor decided to go for a little something rather than continue to pursue the unobtainable everything. The Labor Party was in power now in Israel; its foreign minister, Shimon Peres, was particularly keen on a settlement and equally disappointed in the Washington talks. Peres and Arafat sent trusted aides to secret talks, which resulted in an agreement to give Gaza and the sleepy little Jordan River town of Jericho control of their own domestic affairs (under PLO leadership), to be followed by negotiations to expand the self-rule area throughout the West Bank. Should all go well, final talks would determine the ultimate fate of the territories taken by Israel in 1967. The United States was not informed until the deal was done.
It is difficult to overstate the psychological importance of the agreement signed this week on the White House lawn. It profoundly affects the thinking of all the players in the Middle East drama: how they view their enemies; how they view themselves. It makes the impossible possible: final answers to the questions of West Bank governance and the status of East Jerusalem. It opens the door to agreements between Israel and Jordan, Israel and Syria, Israel and the other Arab nations.
But it is equally difficult to overstate the practical difficulties that lie ahead. Hamas and other Palestinian ``rejectionists'' have already unleashed acts of terrorism they hope will undermine this and any future agreements. The opposition Likud Party in Israel will not resort to terrorism but will do everything it can to thwart the agreement. While the pact ``makes the impossible possible,'' it by no means makes it certain. The devil is in the details, and a mountain of details remains to be resolved.
The United States was better off left out of the negotiations that led to this week's agreement. The Israelis and the Palestinians did it by themselves; they get all the credit if it works, and we get none of the blame if it fails. It was fun for President Clinton to preside over a historic ceremony. But ultimate success will require Clinton's active participation.
The speeches are over, and the bleachers and folding chairs have been removed from the White House lawn. Now the real work begins. But you will forgive us old Middle Eastern hands if our eyes are a little misty. We waited more than four decades for this day.
\ Thomas C. Sorensen, a consultant and former deputy director of the U.S. Information Agency, has lived and worked in the Middle East. He lives in Charlottesville.
by CNB