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Come what may, Arafat sees himself as the gatekeeper
Robert Malley and Hussein Agha
Veteran Palestinian leader has seen it all, and physical isolation has in
no way diminished his power
The Daily Star, 7/28/03
He is holed up in a largely destroyed building, under perpetual Israeli
surveillance, marginalized, shunned and liable at any moment to be
expelled, or worse, but for Palestinian President Yasser Arafat, the
landscape is familiar; at once both comforting and comfortable.
He has seen it all before, and it is this, not a red-carpet welcome at the
White House, that defines his world. Many times in the past his enemies
have confronted him, yet he is still there. Palestinians have complained
about him. In the end, they have come back to the fold. He was never one
for physical comfort, and that too has not changed. Ariel Sharon is
confronting him. But when has he not?
They say this time it is different; rarely have so many tried so hard to
dislodge him. How little they know, he thinks. You cannot take away his
power because power will go where he does, because power is where he is.
Go to the Muqataa, his headquarters, the place where he now spends every
hour of his day. Run-down and decrepit as it is, who can deny that it
retains the unmistakable aura of power? Nothing large or small, he knows,
takes place without his ultimate approval. The prime minister was named as
a result of international pressure, but all the pressure was directed at
him, for who else mattered?
Security officials await his nod; the demands for a cease-fire with Hamas
need his approval and negotiations with Israel his sign-off. A word from
him defines who is a traitor in Palestinian eyes, and another leads to
redemption.
Where he is, so too will be the center of gravity of Palestinian politics.
As some groups move to the periphery, others move to the center in an
endless balancing act in which he remains the pivot. Wander too far from
his orbit, and see how power escapes you. Today, there are those who seek
to push Arafat outside the governing circles of the Palestinian Authority
(PA). So be it. He sees himself returning to the Palestinian political
scene as the head of a more powerful, and larger, coalition including the
majority of his own Fatah faction, secular radical groups, independent
personalities, most of the diaspora, and, a novel acquisition, Islamist
organizations like Hamas and Islamic Jihad.
All of them in one way or another feel alienated from the new PA
government, fearful of its direction, and genuinely loyal to the old
leader or opportunistically coalescing around him, confident he will
protect them and not betray them, and convinced he is the authentic leader
of Palestine. Whatever he may have lost by not formally heading the PA
Cabinet, he is hoping to gain even more by being outside it.
Ask him, and he will say it is not because of money – though that always
helps – or because of weapons – though they too can lend a crucial
hand. If, in the end, all return to him, it will be due to the natural and
inescapable dynamics of Palestinian politics. Ultimately, this will happen
not so much because of who he is as because of what he has spent a
lifetime becoming – the embodiment of Palestine.
He knows what some think: that he cannot lead, that he merely follows his
people. How wrong that is in his mind. He can lead, but only by being at
all times in tune with them. Intuitively aware of Palestine’s political
boundaries, he will never take a step that risks encouraging an effective
majority against him, and so he will act only with the support of
mobilized constituencies.
He will point to the Oslo Accords where he carried his people along
despite their initial and overwhelming skepticism in neither a foolhardy
way nor in a manner that from the start would have doomed a strategic
choice that he was convinced would serve the Palestinian cause. But
rather, once the accords had been signed, by slowly and meticulously
building up a constituency capable of overcoming popular disbelief and of
bringing to his side a critical mass of his people.
Of all his fears, none is greater than that of being out of touch with his
people, of, in his own words, becoming either a Hamid Karzai, viewed as
imposed on Afghanistan from the outside, or an Antoine Lahd, the former
head of the South Lebanon Army, viewed as an Israeli stooge. If he sticks
to who he is, he feels, the world will go around in circles until it ends
precisely where it began, with Arafat on one side and Sharon on the other.
Around him much has been going on – from the introduction of the “road
map” for peace to the naming of a prime minister and the conclusion of a
Palestinian cease-fire, from the dismantling of a few settlement outposts
to reform of Palestinian institutions. How little it all matters to him.
Others consider these events politics. He considers them to be mere
side-shows for which he has little patience, frivolities of at best
uncertain interest, distractions from what ought to be the exclusive focus
– how to maximize the strength of the Palestinian people, which he
equates with the strength of the nationalist cause, which he equates with
his own.
Others measure the usefulness of a cease-fire, of a limited security deal
with Israel, of the road map according to whether the outcome will
invigorate a new peace process. Not he. The present moment is not about
the peace process, for he is convinced that nothing of use can be achieved
by it. It is about the power relationships by which all that matters will
be decided. And so he measures their usefulness by deciding who will
emerge stronger and who weaker.
As he looks at the present situation, he is aware of the strains
Palestinians are under, of the internal and external pressures to end the
intifada and the emphasis on improving the Palestinians’ living
conditions. But the fight, for him, is about showing political
determination to reach the ultimate political objective, not about seeking
material well-being as such.
A flawed deal was dangled before him at Camp David, with hopes of enticing
him with promises of large amounts of economic aid and the lure of his
becoming an established head of state, with prestige, wealth and the
company of the powerful. When he could not see the deal and said no to all
that, choosing instead the life of the rebel, he felt at one with his
people, and they reciprocated.
Besides, from his vantage point the view is not all bleak. Although he
lives in virtual detention, his constituency and his legitimacy have been
strengthened. Israel meanwhile still lacks security, its economy is in
shambles and immigration to Israel is plummeting.
Then there are the achievements. The world, many Israelis included,
increasingly accepts the need for Israel to withdraw to the 1967 borders,
to dismantle settlements, to divide Jerusalem into two capitals.
Meanwhile, pressure keeps growing in favor of an international
intervention. Palestinians are hurting but so are Israelis. Only when they
fully measure the cost of confrontation will Israelis fully appreciate the
benefits of a true two-state solution in which Palestinians recover their
lost land.
The United States, Arab regimes and Europeans can clamor all they want for
an end to the violence, but since when have they acted in the Palestinians’
interest? When was the last time they took a risk on the Palestinians’
behalf?
Theirs is a story of betrayal that has come in all shades at all times.
All may not be as it ought to, but under these conditions, why speak of a
Palestinian disaster? When he looks at Palestinian Prime Minister Mahmoud
Abbas, he sees his companion of many years who was there at the beginning
and at every major turn, ultimately loyal but not always blindly by his
side. He sees one of the very few who never plotted against him, and never
dreamed of doing so, insufficiently seasoned as he is in the raw games of
power, and too upright for the region’s dirty deeds.
Abu Mazen (Abbas) has become both the instrument others are seeking to use
to marginalize Arafat and a possible means to his political redemption. As
with so many other matters, Arafat will seek to make do. He will help his
prime minister one day to show that he can save him and undercut him the
next, to remind him who is boss. And he will take solace in the fact that
Abu Mazen in power means that Arafat’s is no longer the sole address for
recrimination, since he can point to someone else when things do not work
as they should. A two-headed rule has its advantages. For Arafat, it can
mean just as much power and far less responsibility.
There are darker moments, when the burden of the siege and the long
isolation weigh heaviest. Clarity and confidence grow fainter. He suspects
that Abu Mazen might be used as part of the conspiracy against him. He
questions whether he will ever regain the trust of the United States, the
country he courted for so long and on which he depended so much. He
wonders whether this will be his last stand. At such times, anger takes
hold.
People wonder how Arafat makes decisions, what his longer-range strategy
is and how he plans to get where he wants to be, all of which must
thoroughly mystify him. There is no decision-making as we know it, no
grand strategy, not even a plan. For Arafat what counts is political
intuition in the here and now. Political life is not about methodically
determining how to get from one place to another, but rather about
assessing the situation one faces at the moment and figuring out how to
emerge from it, at worst intact, at best strengthened. He will adapt to
situations rather than shape them, react to events rather than pre-empt
them. The surface conditions of his behavior conceal his own peculiar
consistency, and survival, as always, will come first.
He hears people blaming him for launching the intifada, encouraging the
violence, failing to step in. What do they know? Violence as he sees it is
not something he ignites, it is something that happens when conditions
permit and that he may – or may not – try to stop.
Decisions are made through an informal, implicit process. He is simply
their best interpreter and executor, acting on behalf of a broad consensus
among the many political constituencies, weighing as they do the political
cost of tolerating violence against the political cost of stopping it.
But there is nothing special about violence in this. In his eyes it is
merely one instrument among many at the Palestinians’ disposal, no more
or less legitimate, and certainly no less legitimate than those deployed
by Israel.
Hypocrites all, he thinks, who denounce the Palestinians’ resort to
violence when their accusers have done the same, and on a far larger scale
– Americans and Israelis first and foremost. Hypocrites, who invoke
democracy’s name to unseat him when no one in the Arab world enjoys the
popular mandate he has been given. They brand him an extremist when he has
always been at the forefront of those arguing for better relations with
the United States and for engagement with the Israelis. They excoriate him
for equivocating over then-US President Bill Clinton’s proposed peace
deal in 2000 when Sharon has been excused for rejecting it outright. They
seek to export Western institutions, and go on about reform,
accountability and representative government, when none of this has
anything to do with the rights of his people, with their struggle and
legitimate cause. But this, too, he is confident, shall pass. Everything
will revert to where it was. Everything will come back to him.
Robert Malley lives in Washington and was special assistant to US
President Bill Clinton for Arab-Israeli affairs. He currently is Middle
East program director at the International Crisis group.
Hussein Agha is a political analyst and author in London and was an
adviser to the Palestinian negotiating team at the Madrid peace talks in
1991.
This article, the second of three texts looking at Ariel Sharon, Yasser
Arafat, and Mahmoud Abbas, originally appeared in The New York Review of
Books and is reprinted in The Daily Star with permission. The first part
appeared in the July 26 edition of The Daily Star
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| Earth, a planet
hungry for peace |
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| The Israeli
apartheid (security) wall around Palestinian population centers
(Ran Cohen, pmc, 5/24/03). |
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| The Israeli
apartheid (security) wall around Palestinian population centers in
the West Bank (Ran Cohen, pmc, 5/24/03). |
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