Israel, U.S. Still Don't Understand Arafat's Appeal

by William O. Beeman

Palestinians lighting candles around a picture of President Arafat in the Gaza City Square of the Unknown Soldier

(PNS) -- Yasir Arafat's death on Nov. 11 marks a watershed in the ongoing Israeli-Palestinian conflict. The key to continued progress toward peace in the Middle East lies in understanding why Palestinians felt so deeply loyal to his leadership despite its apparent flaws.

Arafat was truly the father of his nation. He was responsible for molding Palestinian identity. From the establishment of the Al-Fatah movement in 1959, in which he was instrumental, he became the embodiment of Palestinian aspirations and fears. Fatah -- or FTH -- is the Arabic acronym (reversed in English) for haraket tahrir filisteen, or the "Palestine Liberation Movement." The Palestine Liberation Organization, or PLO, was a separate organization, and Arafat became chair of its executive committee as well.

These multiple leadership positions in the Palestinian movement eventually led to Arafat becoming the effective head of state for the Palestinians -- the man without whom progress toward peace could not be pursued. His overwhelming election in 1996 as president of the Palestinian Authority was affirmation of the support he received from the Palestinians.

For many Americans Arafat will be remembered as the man who rejected Israel's most generous offer for peace in 2000 in the Oslo talks at Camp David. The aftermath of this breakdown of negotiations was an escalation of violence on both sides, and many branded Arafat as an insincere negotiator. The characterization is unjust.

The Nobel Prize for Peace Arafat shared with Izaak Rabin in 1994 was testament to the genuine desire he showed for movement toward a just settlement. Nevertheless, the Israeli government and Arafat could not eventually reach common ground on the difficulties in that historic accord. A series of cataclysmic events, including Rabin's untimely death from an Israeli assassin and the beginning of systematic suicide bombings by extreme Palestinian groups ushered in the right-wing government of Benjamin Netanyahu. Netanyahu espoused a get-tough political stance toward the Palestinians, and relations steadily deteriorated.

Israel and the Palestinians were never quite on the same page regarding settlement of their differences. For Israel, the settlement was all about the land. For Arafat, the settlement was all about the Palestinian people and their right to live in dignity and equality. The Oslo talks eventually foundered on the question of the right of return of Palestinians, which Israel would not allow, rather than the generous land settlement. With violence escalating daily, Arafat felt --rightly or wrongly -- that he could not legitimately compromise on this human right, which Israel had claimed for its own citizens as a virtual foundation for the Israeli State. Additionally, Israel frequently claimed that Arafat's high ideals in English were belied by more hostile characterizations of Israel pronounced in Arabic to his supporters, thus undermining trust in the negotiations.

Arafat's stand on right of return was entirely consistent with his relationship with the Palestinian people. He had shaped the identity of the Palestinian nation, and was the embodiment of the hopes and aspirations of his people. Hundreds of thousands of Palestinians still hopelessly ensconced in refugee camps throughout the West Bank, Gaza, Jordan, Syria and Lebanon had no greater wish than to be able to pursue their lives as other normal human beings. Arafat spoke to their collective agony, and his empathy was the basis for his continued and unwavering support, even despite charges of corruption within the Palestinian authority. One hallmark of his leadership was that he managed to keep the Palestinian movement ruthlessly secular, representing all religious confessions equally.

He paid a high price for his decision. Held under virtual house arrest in Ramallah by Israel, his action was limited. Moreover, he was utterly stonewalled by the first-term George W. Bush administration, which tried to circumvent him continually and never spoke to him directly.

Because Arafat loomed so large as the embodiment of the Palestinian people, he will be difficult to replace. There will need to be a panoply of leaders to fill all his official roles. We can expect in the short run to see a collective leadership emerging among the Palestinians. Arafat himself left no heir-apparent. The new leaders will be familiar. Individuals like Mahmoud Abbas, already named head of the PLO, and Ahmed Qurei, who have been active in government but overshadowed by Arafat in the past, will now emerge. There will be a time of mourning, and a new set of elections which, in the best of all possible worlds, will leave the Palestinian people with the possibility of a fresh start in negotiating peace and human rights for themselves.

The question for the United States and for Israel is whether Arafat's passing will be greeted with statesmanlike efforts leading to renewed peace talks, or with crass opportunistic moves designed to weaken and humiliate the Palestinian people further. For the sake of the region, and indeed the world, it is to be hoped that President Bush and Prime Minister Sharon take the high road. Arafat, with all his detractors, was the father of his nation, and he should not have died in vain.