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WORLD
POLICY JOURNAL
| ARTICLE:
Volume XIX, No2, Summer 2002 |
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Maps of
War, Maps of Peace:
Finding a Two-State Solution to the Israeli-Palestinian Question
David
C. Unger*
[Go
to interactive
discussion forum]
President George
W. Bush has declared that America supports a future Palestinian
state, but will not help create one until the Palestinian people
elect "new and different" leaders "not compromised
by terror." The desirability of such a leadership change is
clear. But making it a precondition for diplomacy could condemn
Israelis and Palestinians to years, if not decades, of further death
and devastation.
President Bush
may now feel obliged to honor at least the spirit of his June 24
declarations. But if Yasir Arafat is reelected by the Palestinian
people next year, as now seems highly likely, Washington cannot
simply walk away. Nor is sitting on the diplomatic sidelines until
those elections a realistic diplomatic option.
President Bush
has already recognized the path that must eventually be followed.
His vision of two states, one Israeli and one Palestinian, living
side by side, despite all the obvious problems, provides the only
workable framework for peace. Movement down that path can begin
today, looking beyond Mr. Arafat, but not waiting for his actual
departure.
A number of
constructive peace proposals are already on the table. Crown Prince
Abdullah of Saudi Arabia has won Arab League endorsement for full
Arab normalization of relations with Israel in exchange for Israeli
withdrawal to approximately the June 1967 borders. Important Arab
countries stand prepared to pressure the Palestinian leadership
for meaningful reforms.
More will be
needed than declarations about returning to the 1967 borders or
maps of potential land swaps. Finding the route to peace in Israel,
the West Bank, and Gaza cannot be reduced to some sort of abstract
Cartesian puzzle to be solved by drawing a line midway between two
positions, splitting this or that difference, or deciding one set
of issues now and deferring another set for later. Mideast realities
do not reveal themselves on a single plane, but are refracted by
two lenses, one Israeli and one Palestinian. These two lenses, which
are elaborated at the end of this essay, have each been shaped by
a different view of history and justice. Understanding how to look
through these two lenses simultaneously is essential to resolving
the current deadlock and achieving a durable peace.
The Current
Israeli Debate
Prime Minister
Ariel Sharon, and now President Bush, refuses to deal with Yasir
Arafat, a man Israelis no longer trust and whom they blame, with
considerable justice, for the breakdown of the 1993 Oslo Accords.
Sharon talks vaguely of a long-term "interim" agreement
with a reconstituted Palestinian Authority no longer led by Arafat.
More centrist Israelis hope to see Arafat step back from day-to-day
leadership and act more like a chairman of the board. Some Labor
Party leaders still see Arafat, with all his faults, as the only
realistic negotiating partner for now.
But with the
Sharon government uninterested in resumed negotiations, the hottest
idea in Israel right now is unilateral physical separation from
the Palestinians, principally through the building and armed patrolling
of a country-long security fence dividing Palestinian areas from
Israeli ones. The appeal of this idea to Israelis is two-fold. It
promises to restore a lost sense of security and it does not require
recognizing Arafat or any other Palestinian as a negotiating partner.
The chief proponent of separation is former prime minister Ehud
Barak, who is trying to rebuild the Labor Party on a platform of
ending Israel’s occupation of the West Bank and Gaza without again
having to exhort Israelis to trust Arafat. Separation also has support
from Sharon, although it appears inconsistent with his implacable
opposition to abandoning outlying West Bank settlements. Construction
of a separation fence has already begun in some areas in Jerusalem
and just inside the West Bank. A 30-mile long fence has separated
the Gaza Strip from Israel since 1994.
Separation’s
appeal diminishes rapidly once hard decisions have to be made about
where to draw the separation lines and how to patrol them. Separation
can only be geographically workable if Israel is willing to withdraw
from all outlying West Bank settlements and all of Gaza. Otherwise,
the fence would be too long and isolated for Israeli troops to patrol
as intensely as would be needed in the absence of a peace agreement.
Separation may also require the creation of walled Jewish ghettos
in parts of East Jerusalem. Territorially, Israel’s withdrawals
would be almost equivalent to those discussed during the last round
of Oslo negotiations, held at Taba, Egypt, in January 2001. And
while there would be no need to negotiate with Arafat, negotiating
these changes within Israeli society with no Palestinian promise
in return of an end to the conflict, would be extremely contentious.
Similar problems
attend the idea of working out a deal with a post-Arafat Palestinian
leadership created or promoted by the Israeli government. Obviously,
Arafat is a large part of the problem. And just as obviously, Palestinians,
not Israelis, will decide his future role and who, eventually, succeeds
him. Even more unrealistic is the long ago discarded notion, now
favored by some Israelis frustrated with Arafat, of returning the
West Bank to Jordanian rule. Jordan’s Hashemite kings have made
clear that they have no interest in destabilizing their own rule
by adding 2 million restive Palestinians to a population already
finely balanced between Palestinians and Bedouins.
Thus, the only
realistic basis for a stable peace is the eventual creation of a
Palestinian state, under a leadership of the Palestinians’ own choosing.
Most Israelis and most Palestinians, when they step back from the
emotions of the current violence, accept that there must be two
states, one Israeli and one Palestinian, living side by side, and
that their borders will closely approximate Israel’s international
boundaries at the start of the June 1967 Six Day War. Interested
outsiders, including the Bush administration and Crown Prince Abdullah,
understand this as well. They also know that before a two-state
solution can be achieved, three contentious questions must be resolved:
1) In making equitable adjustments to the 1967 borders, which Jewish
settlements will be annexed to Israel and what part of Israeli territory
will be offered to the Palestinians in return? 2) How will authority
over Jerusalem’s intertwined Jewish and Arab neighborhoods and overlapping
religious sites be divided? 3) What provisions will be made for
the rights of some 2 million Palestinian refugees now living outside
of Palestine, mainly in Lebanon, Syria, and Jordan?
One additional,
indispensable, requirement for a two-state solution is a firm new
understanding about security. Given the history of the Oslo agreements
and especially the past two years, flowery declarations by Palestinian
leaders and paper agreements will not be enough. Israel cannot expect
to police the West Bank and Gaza Strip itself. But it will not turn
over that responsibility to a force that declines to arrest and
detain border-crossing terrorists for internal Palestinian political
reasons. A resolution on borders, Jerusalem, and refugees must mean
a final end to the 54-year-old conflict. Israeli and Palestinian
authorities cannot flinch in using their full police powers against
anyone who refuses to give up the fight.
An External
Solution?
Any hope for breaking the impasse probably must come from outside,
namely from Saudi Arabia and the United States. Crown Prince Abdullah’s
proposal earlier this year briefly transformed the external dynamic
of Mideast peacemaking. Only weeks after it was adopted at the Arab
League summit, Abdullah visited Bush in Texas and seemed to have
won his support for a joint drive to modify Israeli and Palestinian
policies, and to push the two sides back to the bargaining table.
Bush’s June 24 speech put this strategy on hold. But before long
the administration may be pressed to revive it.
Bush’s original
policy of letting the two sides fight it out until superior Israeli
fire-power inevitably prevailed has not helped Israel, has undermined
Arab governments friendly to Washington, and has complicated American
strategy on other issues, including the search for an effective
way to halt Iraq’s drive to acquire biological, chemical, and nuclear
weapons.
Yet pushing
for an international solution will confront the Bush administration
with difficult challenges. The most immediate may be the domestic
political uproar that would be touched off by any American attempt
to lean on an unwilling Israeli government. Congressional resolutions
this spring have demonstrated the deep support that the Sharon government
and its policies enjoy in both political parties. Some of this support,
particularly on the Democratic side, may be more for Israel than
for its present government. An international solution that can clearly
be shown to protect Israel’s vital interests thus might be able
to attract a degree of domestic political backing. But many of Bush’s
closest conservative Republican allies agree with Sharon’s unilateral
military approach to the Palestinian intifada and instinctively
distrust international conferences and agreements.
An international
solution may also require some kind of international monitors or
peacekeepers, an idea Israeli governments have generally resisted,
even though most of the peacekeepers are likely to come from the
United States. Even if Israel agrees to peace-keepers, exposing
American soldiers to the dangers of Middle Eastern conflicts could
be hard to sell to Congress and the American public.
Most importantly,
however much Washington and other countries promote an Israeli-
Palestinian peace settlement, final approval must come from Israeli
and Palestinian leaders, and perhaps voters as well.
That could
mean that, for now at least, Israel will have to reconcile itself
to dealing once again with Yasir Arafat, whom it has ample reason
to distrust. It would help if Saudi Arabia, other Arab countries,
and Palestinian legislators manage to reform the Palestinian Authority,
making it more democratically accountable, its security forces more
reliable and committed to fighting terrorism, and its negotiating
strategy less erratic. If Arafat remains in power, his greatest
virtue may be that he is perhaps the only man who can sell the Palestinians
on the specific compromises that will be needed on boundaries, Jerusalem,
and refugees and to finally end the conflict.
It is to these
three outstanding issues that we must now turn, looking at some
of the ideas suggested by Bill Clinton at the end of his term, by
the Taba negotiators, and by Crown Prince Abdullah and the Saudi
officials who elaborated on Prince Abdullah’s plan to Henry Siegman
of the Council on Foreign Relations.
• Boundaries
— These should prove the most amenable to compromise. What is
required is enforceable security for Israel, geographic integrity
for Palestine, and minimum levels of involuntary population relocation
for both peoples. That could be accomplished by a straight swap
of the most concentrated Israeli settlement blocs just east of the
1967 borderline for equivalent land areas with largely Arab populations
on the western side of that line. Such a swap could leave the Palestinians
with a geographically contiguous territory on the West Bank equal
in size to the area ruled there by Jordan prior to the Six Day War.
The easiest solution in Gaza would be to follow the pattern set
after Sinai was returned to Egypt in 1981 and resettle inside Israel
the 7,000 Jews now living there amidst 1.2 million Arabs. The two
sections of the Palestinian state, one in the West Bank and the
other in Gaza, would be linked by one or more safe-passage routes.
Palestinians could travel freely along these routes so long as they
did not venture beyond the marked and patrolled perimeters of the
designated roads.
Israeli negotiators
at Taba proposed an approach that would allow Israel to modify the
1967 borders to include fairly compact blocs of close-in Jewish
settlements where some 80 percent of the 170,000 West Bank Jewish
settlers live, along with Jewish areas of East Jerusalem. No official
Israeli map delineating this proposal has ever been published. But
there have been plausible journalistic reconstructions, based on
interviews with participants and observers at the Taba talks. The
Palestinians have expressed a willingness in principle to consider
such border modifications, provided Israel was willing to swap an
equivalent quantity of land inside its pre-1967 boundaries to be
included in the future Palestinian state. Saudi officials have indicated
that such a swap could be incorporated into Crown Prince Abdullah’s
proposal as well.
The notion
of a land swap is politically plausible, even attractive, to many
Israelis. The idea would be to exchange Israeli areas near the 1967
border that now have a substantially Arab population, like the Taibeh
triangle, across the border from the Palestinian town of Kalkilya.
Doing so would actually strengthen Israel’s Jewish demographic majority.
It could also help ease resolution of the Palestinian refugee problem
by permitting an unrestricted return of Palestinian refugees to
those regions, currently in Israel, that would become part of the
new Palestinian state. Such an approach has been proposed in a recent
article in Foreign Affairs (May/June 2002) by Hussein Agha,
of Oxford University, and Robert Malley, a former Clinton administration
official.
If an Israeli-Palestinian
settlement is to lead to full Arab recognition under Crown Prince
Abdullah’s plan, Israel’s border with Syria will also have to be
returned to approximately the 1967 lines as well. Here again, plausible
land swaps have been proposed to satisfy Israel’s concerns about
possible Syrian tampering with the waters feeding the Sea of Galilee,
Israel’s main reservoir. But thus far, Damascus has insisted on
reestablishing the international border exactly where it was in
June 1967.
• Jerusalem
— Finding a solution in Jerusalem will require creative new
definitions of sovereignty in the Old City, particularly regarding
the platform on which the Al Aksa Mosque and the Dome of the Rock
stand. One side of this platform forms Judaism’s sacred Western
Wall. It will also require balancing of the requirements of open
movement and airtight security, and will call for constructive cooperation
in municipal administration to a degree that now seems unimaginable.
Each side demands
Jerusalem as its capital and insists on control of physically overlapping
religious sites in the Old City. Jerusalem’s Western Wall, the only
surviving element of the destroyed Second Temple, has been the spiritual
center of Judaism for two millennia. The Haram al-Sharif, the platform
that lies atop the Temple site and on which the Al Aksa Mosque and
the Dome of the Rock stand, is Islam’s third-holiest site. To make
matters even more complicated, some 200,000 Israeli Jews now live
in parts of municipal Jerusalem formerly ruled by Jordan, along
with about 85,000 Palestinians.
Solutions,
or at least partial solutions, are nevertheless possible. One good
starting point is the principle enunciated by Bill Clinton in December
2000, and endorsed by Israeli and Palestinian negotiators at Taba
a month later: that the Arab areas of the city should come under
Palestinian rule while the Jewish areas should remain ruled by Israel.
Following this principle, capitals for both states can be located
within the current confines of municipal Jerusalem. Movement within
the city and the structure of its municipal administration will
require special arrangements. Ideally, these arrangements should
leave Jerusalem an open and physically unified city, not a new version
of Cold War Berlin. Rigorous security arrangements will be required
to protect Jewish areas of Jerusalem, and the rest of Israel, from
unwanted and dangerous infiltration.
The competing
claims to sovereignty over the Old City’s religious sites will be
hardest to resolve. The Palestinians do not consider themselves
free to make compromises regarding the Haram on their own, since
this is an issue important to the entire Muslim world. Saudi Arabia’s
position is particularly crucial. Riyadh felt sidelined by Washington
during the Camp David summit two years ago and did nothing to encourage
a deal. Now that the Saudis have thrust themselves into the center
of peacemaking, they may take a more constructive approach. Clinton’s
final proposal called for Israeli sovereignty over the Western Wall
and Palestinian sovereignty over the Haram. There was movement in
that direction at Taba, but the issue remains unresolved. Outstanding
problems include defining the extent of the Western Wall and assuring
that neither side authorizes archeological excavations beneath the
Haram or behind the Wall without the other’s consent.
• Refugees
— This is the most difficult problem of all because it is intimately
related to the two sides’ different perspective on history and justice.
"Land for peace’’ is a formula for resolving the issues that
arose in 1967. There is no such formula for addressing an existential
issue like this, born out of Israel’s contested creation in 1948.
Solving the refugee issue will require statesmanship. Without such
statesmanship, there can be no final end to the conflict, and no
lasting two-state solution.
Clinton had
it right when, in his final proposal, he reported his "sense
that the differences are more relating to formulations and less
to what will happen on a practical level." In other words,
the differences are less about the actual movement of refugees than
about the definition of a Palestinian right of return to Palestine.
Palestinian leaders will have to find the courage to acknowledge
that the overwhelming majority of refugees will never be able to
return to any part of present-day Israel, let alone reclaim their
old homes, most of which no longer exist. Israeli leaders will have
to be bold enough to accept at least a symbolic level of resettlement,
perhaps initially restricted to the first generation of refugees
who departed during the time of Israel’s War of Independence. The
youngest of these are already 54 years old.
Palestinian
negotiators have insisted on the principle that refugees should
have the right, if they choose, to return to their former homes,
including those within Israel. Israeli negotiators insist on the
principle that Israel must retain its sovereign power to control
its own immigration policies and its right to exercise those powers
to protect a strong Jewish demographic majority. These principles
are not irreconcilable. At Taba, several options were placed on
the table: a) compensation and integration into the countries where
they now reside; b) help in resettling somewhere else; c) return
and repatriation to the new Palestinian state (including territory
currently in Israel but agreed to be swapped in exchange for the
settlement blocs); and d) return and repatriation to Israel itself.
The Arab League
plan, in notably flexible language, calls for "achievement
of a just solution to the Palestinian refugee problem to be agreed
on in accordance with United Nations General Assembly Resolution
194’’ (emphasis added). That 1948 resolution, the cornerstone of
Palestinian claims, upholds the right of refugees "wishing
to return to their homes and live at peace with their neighbors"
to do so "at the earliest practicable date." The Arab
League’s wording clearly leaves the door open to a negotiated compromise.
To preserve
its Jewish character, Israel would have to limit strictly the number
of Palestinian refugees it annually accepted—a total of 25,000 to
35,000 for the first three years was reportedly discussed at Taba,
although no formal Israeli proposal was offered. Refugees who wanted
and qualified for future admissions might be placed on a waiting
list, with the actual rate of admissions each year kept low enough
not to threaten Israel’s Jewish demographic majority. Priority within
this list might be given, at Israel’s discretion, to older refugees
and close relatives of Palestinians already legally living in Israel.
Sari Nusseibeh,
the Palestinian intellectual designated by the Palestinian Authority
to represent it in Jerusalem, has suggested recognizing that a two-state
solution, by its nature, means redefining the right of return as
a right to resettle in the new Palestinian state, not in Israel.
But this position has been emphatically rejected by the Palestinian
Authority leadership.
Oslo collapsed
before final agreement could be reached on any of these points.
The Saudi plan assumes they can be solved but offers no details
on how. Since Taba, Oslo’s structures and timetables have broken
down, along with all trust between the Israeli and Palestinian leaderships.
Today, to invoke Oslo is to risk derision and contempt among Israelis
and Palestinians alike. That is understandable, given the way Oslo
turned out. But bad feelings about Oslo should not be allowed to
discredit either the idea of a two-state solution or the progress
already made toward designing one. Oslo’s failures were failures
of implementation, not of conceptualization.
The Inescapable
Logic of a Two-State Solution
Almost 10 million people, 5.5 million Jews and 4.5 million Palestinians
(of whom a million are currently Israeli citizens), now live between
the Jordan River and the Mediterranean Sea. Some Palestinians still
dream of driving the Jews beyond, or even into, the sea. An extremist
minority of Israelis dreams of driving the Palestinians beyond the
Jordan. Those dreams are probably more popular on both sides since
the latest violence erupted two years ago. But the moral and military
costs of attempting to carry them out would be forbidding, and,
one hopes, the outside world would not sit still for it. It is a
prescription for endless war, not peace.
Other alternatives
to a two-state solution are more respectable, but no more practical.
Israel’s Likud Party recently reaffirmed its opposition to the creation
of any Palestinian state in the West Bank or Gaza Strip. That can
only mean continued occupation or, to borrow the contemptuous term
Arabs long applied to Israel, permitting some kind of Palestinian
"entity’’ that falls short of the usual attributes of statehood.
Indefinitely prolonged occupation would be a prescription for more
terror, more death, more economic pain on both sides, further radicalization
of Palestinian opinion, and a widening schism between Israel’s demography
and its democracy. The occupied territories have been in near continuous
revolt since 1987, except for the period when the Oslo peace accords
seemed to be leading toward Palestinian statehood.
The entity-versus-state
debate boils down to little more than hollow semantics. Israel’s
own interests require that any Palestinian administration have both
the military means and the international responsibility for suppressing
terrorism emanating from within its borders. An entity with those
powers and responsibilities is, whatever one chooses to call it,
a state. It was Arafat’s failure to live up to those responsibilities,
not his ambitions for statehood, that aborted Oslo.
Another theoretically
possible, but practically foreclosed, option is the creation of
one state with two peoples, each enjoying equal legal and citizenship
rights—the so-called binational secular state. This Western-sounding
solution solves the central problem by denying it. It leaves no
room for Israel as a Jewish state, a self-sufficient refuge from
persecution, pogrom, and Holocaust. Centuries of tragedy have convinced
the overwhelming majority of Jews, in Israel and elsewhere, that
a Jewish state is a necessity for Jewish survival. Perhaps some
day, an evolving Jewish national experience will make a binational
secular state a more attractive idea. A very small minority of mostly
secular, Westernized Israelis have long supported the idea of a
binational secular state and some still do. But no major Israeli
party endorses their views.
There has also
been an important strand of Palestinian support through the years
for a binational secular state. The Palestine Liberation Organization
advocated it during the 1970s, though not very persuasively, given
the PLO’s lack of respect for anybody’s legal or human rights and
its general political opportunism.
But in the
late 1980s, the PLO accepted U.N. Security Council Resolutions 242
and 338 and embraced the idea of partitioning Palestine into two
separate national states along the pre-1967 lines. Arafat is now
firmly identified with the idea of a specifically Palestinian state
and so is the main Palestinian opposition party, Hamas. The difference
is that Arafat continues to advocate Palestinian statehood within
the parameters of a two-state solution. If he means that sincerely,
he must support the reciprocal idea of Israel as a Jewish state,
as he claims to do. The logic of such an acceptance bears directly
on the issue of Palestinian refugees wishing to return to pre-1967
Israel.
The PLO’s embrace
of a two-state solution makes it Israel’s most plausible Palestinian
negotiating partner at this time. Unfortunately, Arafat’s reembrace
of terrorism since September 2000 has also rendered him an unacceptable
negotiating partner in Israeli eyes. It is nearly impossible to
imagine Sharon and Arafat sitting down with each other for productive
negotiations. But it is unlikely that significantly more forthcoming
leaders will soon emerge on either side. The existing leaderships,
it must be acknowledged, accurately represent the hopes and fears
of their constituents. If peace is to come any time soon, it will
probably be necessary for these two leaders to learn how to accept
and talk to each other again, if only to ratify and legitimate the
compromises put forward by the international community.
Learning
the Lessons of Oslo
Moving forward toward a two-state solution means moving beyond
the failures and disappointments of Oslo and building on its successes.
Oslo’s details are familiar, but an unhelpful mythology surrounds
its demise. What needs to be understood is the continuing validity
of its underlying logic and the disastrous consequences of its stretched-out
timetable.
Oslo was, at
the beginning, a plan by two sides that did not trust each other
but recognized they had to deal with each other to achieve a mutually
desired goal. That goal was a negotiated end to Israel’s military
rule over a rebellious Palestinian population in the occupied West
Bank and Gaza Strip. In the mind of former Israeli prime minister
Yitzhak Rabin, Oslo was not about generosity or idealism or a newly
benign view of Yasir Arafat. It was a way of extricating Israeli
soldiers from the physical, moral, and political hazards of occupation
in the West Bank and Gaza by transferring the burden of pacifying
the Palestinians and suppressing terrorism to a Palestinian police
force. It was also a way of strengthening the Zionist democracy
Rabin believed in by rebuilding Israel’s solid Jewish majority within
a slightly amended version of the pre-1967 boundaries. In the mind
of Yasir Arafat, Oslo pointed the way toward achieving his lifelong
dream of creating and leading a Palestinian state. It was also a
means to reassert, with Israeli assistance, the political dominance
of the exile-based PLO over the more locally based groups who had
organized and led the first intifada.
Amid the ruins
of Oslo, it is important to recognize not only the utopian hopes,
but the carefully designed safeguards, of the original plan. Oslo
broke down not so much because the concept was fatally flawed, but
because it was multiply abused. It failed to survive in part because
it was never loved enough by the broad Israeli and Palestinian populations.
It started out as a leaders’ peace and never really became a peoples’
peace. Thus episodes of terrorism on the one side and delay on the
other were quickly cited by Oslo’s political opponents as evidence
that the deal was a dead end, a dangerous mistake, a betrayal of
fundamental interests.
When Oslo ran
into severe challenges, no powerful leader on either side had the
will or the arguments to defend it. One of its two principal Israeli
sponsors, Yitzhak Rabin, was assassinated, while the other, Shimon
Peres, was politically marginalized. For three crucial years, Oslo
was left in the custody of Benjamin Netanyahu, an Israeli leader
who hated it. On the Palestinian side, the situation was even worse.
Yasir Arafat never really took responsibility for the commitments
he had both explicitly and implicitly made. Rather than try to bring
his people along, he remained silent while others incited violence.
Then, increasingly, he turned to incitement himself.
Rabin deliberately
deferred his most politically difficult decisions—Jerusalem, settlements,
and Palestinian refugees—to the final phase of Oslo to be concluded
in five years’ time. That is one major reason settlement building
continued unabated during Oslo, as did construction of new Israeli
neighborhoods in East Jerusalem. Israel claimed to be negotiating
in good faith to remove the elements of occupation in the West Bank
and Gaza. But, as Palestinians could see, it was simultaneously
creating new ones.
Arafat accepted
the five-year timetable because it allowed him to defer his most
difficult political problems as well. He would not have to explain
for now, to the refugee families that had always been central to
his political constituency, that he would be obliged to negotiate
away any realistic chance that most of them would be able to return
to their homes in the 78 percent of historic Palestine that would
remain under Israeli rule. Nor would he have to explain to the rest
of the Arab world any agreement to accommodate a continued Israeli
presence in the Muslim religious center of Jerusalem. And, most
importantly, until these issues had been resolved, he would not
have to declare an end to the conflict between Israel and the Palestinians.
In retrospect,
it is clear that Arafat exploited these ambiguities to sustain hopes
for an outcome beyond what Oslo promised, and that he authorized
the assembly of a Palestinian arsenal that could be used to fight
for these more ambitious goals by means Oslo itself expressly prohibited.
It is not yet clear whether Arafat actually decided to wage that
fight before the breakdown of the second Camp David summit meeting
in July 2000. Neither is it clear whether he directly planned and
launched the second intifada or merely threw his own forces behind
it once it began. In the latter view, his paramount concern may
have been to prevent his leadership being swept away on a wave of
public anger over his corrupt administration of the West Bank and
Gaza, and the failure of Oslo to bring an end to Israeli occupation
and create a Palestinian state.
What is clear
is that Arafat’s behavior, especially since September 2000, has
discredited Oslo and perhaps permanently destroyed his own credibility
as a peace negotiator in Israeli eyes. He has plainly broken his
promise to recognize and uphold Israel’s security and combat terrorism.
Even if he now agrees to renew that promise, few Israelis will trust
him to keep it. President Bush’s call for a new Palestinian leadership
points to one appealing solution to that problem. Yet it is not
in America’s or Israel’s power to replace Arafat. He is, at least
for now, the only man with whom Israel can make peace, and it is
in neither counry’s interest to pretend he isn’t.
Oslo reached
its culmination, and near fruition, in the talks at Taba, Egypt,
in January 2001, which built on proposals made by America’s lame-duck
president, Bill Clinton, several weeks earlier. There, many of the
issues which had held up agreement at Camp David were worked out
and some optimists felt a full agreement was only weeks away. But
by then, popular Israeli faith in Oslo was shattered. The Barak
government was only days from an election it was about to lose decisively.
Bill Clinton was about to leave office. The Al Aksa intifada, and
Yasir Arafat’s violent embrace of it, helped catapult Ariel Sharon,
who had always opposed Oslo, to Israeli leadership. It also strengthened
radical forces in the Palestinian community who do not believe in
peacefully negotiated solutions and whose demands for a final settlement
stretch beyond Oslo’s basic formula of two states separated by a
redrawn version of the June 1967 borders.
Oslo was undone
by its seemingly reasonable strategy of postponing fundamental political
decisions. The PLO had opportunistically traded in terrorism for
a seat at the peace table, not really renounced it. And it never
honestly told its people that negotiating a two-state solution would
mean that millions of refugees would never be able to return to
their ancestral homes. Israel, for its part, failed to acknowledge
that negotiating in good faith with the Palestinians about the future
of the West Bank and Gaza Strip required, at the very least, freezing
all further building and expansion of settlements there. Instead,
the number of settlers rose by more than 50 percent during the years
of the Oslo negotiations from 1993 to 2000. Settlement building,
which undermines Palestinians hopes, cannot be morally or legally
equated with terrorism, which destroys real lives. Israel’s settlement
policy was clearly permitted under Oslo. What must be noted, however,
is that in the agreed-upon bargain of "land for peace,"
one side took unilateral liberties with the land, while the other
took unilateral liberties with the peace.
Deadlock
Repeatedly, the Sharon government has made clear to Washington
and to everyone else that it is far more interested in extracting
a cease-fire from the Palestinians than in recommitting Israel to
the Oslo agenda. That attitude contributed to the failures of Gen.
Anthony Zinni’s two missions, in late 2001 and early this year.
For their part, the Palestinians rejected any approach that did
not clearly link a cease-fire to movement on Oslo. And with Palestinian
suicide bombers rattling Israeli society, Arafat has shown little
interest in a cease-fire, period. Undoubtedly he expected Israeli
military retaliation, but he also expected the scenes of Palestinian
civilians suffering and dying at the hands of Israeli troops to
rally international support to the Palestinian cause.
Sharon, after
being criticized by Washington for offering no formulas for peace,
now talks about very long-term "interim" arrangements
to be negotiated without Yasir Arafat at the table. The idea that
any credible Palestinian leader could agree, nearly a decade after
Oslo, to a new plan offering no more than limited autonomy over
no more than half the West Bank, stretched out over another 15 to
20 years, seems absurd. But Sharon, whose thinking appears frozen
in the pre-Oslo past, seems deadly serious.
Arafat, with
his popularity among Palestinians again falling and America and
Israel trying to write him out of the script, now seems to place
his hopes in the Arab League peace plan. Except for the very important
new element of Arab recognition, that plan sounds a lot like Oslo,
in both its original concept and Taba details. If Sharon seems determined
to forget that Oslo ever happened, Arafat seems equally determined
to forget that it collapsed, and even though he played a substantial
part in its breakdown, he has the more realistic view.
With these
two leaders so far apart and frozen in their positions, the only
way forward at this time is a concerted push from outside, led by
the United States, starting as soon as possible. There is no guarantee
that such an effort will succeed. But one new factor may help. Under
the impact of a communications revolution that has brought satellite
television images of West Bank clashes into every Arab city and
village, the rulers of Saudi Arabia and Egypt seem slowly to be
coming around to the view that the long-term stability of their
own regimes depends on peacefully resolving the Israeli-Palestinian
conflict. Arab leaders may be able to deliver changes in the Palestinian
Authority and its negotiating positions, though probably not including
the departure of Arafat. But only Washington can persuade Israel
to take such changes seriously and return to the table. For that
to happen, George W. Bush will have to commit the full power and
prestige of his presidency to a determined new peacemaking effort.
In the absence
of peace, separation may proceed. But there should be no mistaking
it for peace. Peace will come only when Israelis and Palestinians
have reached agreement on a two-state solution. We already know
pretty much what that agreement will look like. What we don’t know
is how many more Israelis and Palestinians will die before it is
achieved. •
—July 12,
2002
The
Two Lenses
History
and Justice Through the Israeli Lens
Most Israelis,
along with most of Israel’s supporters in the Jewish diaspora, feel
that the Jews’ unique experience of persecution in foreign lands,
especially the Holocaust, makes the preservation of a Jewish state
the first condition of the survival of the Jews as a people. Because
the issue is survival, extreme means, like military force and defiance
of allies like the United States must be considered justified.
That clearly
applies, they believe, to the problem of the 1948 refugees, all
the more so since many (though not all) of the Palestinians who
fled at that time did so voluntarily, heeding the calls of Arab
political and religious leaders who rejected partition and assured
the refugees they would be able to return home after victorious
Arab armies had crushed the new Jewish state. In this view, the
refugees made bad choices and now they and their descendants must
live with them. History isn’t always fair. It hasn’t been fair to
the Jews. Why should it be fair to the Palestinians? For other Israelis,
it is simply enough that the Palestinian refugees of 1948 stood
in the way of the dream of a Jewish state of Israel and had to give
way. These Israelis find it hard to understand why, with Arabs talking
all the time about Arab unity and with 22 independent Arab states
already in existence, the Arabs of Palestine could not have found
new homes elsewhere in the Arab world, just as displaced Jews did
by moving to Israel.
A very different
view applies to the West Bank and Gaza Strip, although the terrorism
of the Al Aksa intifada has left Israelis fearful of almost the
entire Palestinian population there and little inclined to make
distinctions between civilians and terrorists. In a war where ordinary
Palestinian teenagers wrap explosives around their chests and blow
up pizzerias and discos, ordinary Palestinian teenagers become indistinguishable
from terrorists.
Nevertheless,
most Israelis continue to favor pulling out of the entire Gaza Strip,
most of the West Bank, and most of the settlements if this would
bring peace. Uprooting the more outlying West Bank settlements and
all the Gaza settlements would give Israel far more defensible borders.
Israelis generally consider the pre-1967 borders inadequate for
their national security. That is why they insisted that United Nations
Resolutions 242 and 338 not specifically mandate withdrawal from
all the occupied territory and include references to the right of
all countries in the region to secure borders. But if the 1967 borders
were modified by a land swap that annexed the close-in West Bank
settlements to Israel, many of those national security concerns
would evaporate. Such a modified border could be made into a real
border, not like the current imaginary line crossed hundreds of
times every day by Israeli motorists traveling to or through the
West Bank and West Bank settlers traveling to pre-1967 Israel.
Israelis see
Oslo as an honest offer of land for peace to a Palestinian political
leadership they neither like nor trust. They feel that Arafat, who
spent most of his career directing terror against Israel, hasn’t
kept his end of the bargain nearly as well as successive Israeli
governments have kept theirs. Most, but not all Israelis see Arafat’s
rejection of American and Israeli offers at Camp David and Taba
as proof that he never really wanted a negotiated two-state solution.
These days, Israelis make little distinction between Islamist opposition
groups like Hamas, who have always openly rejected Oslo, and Arafat,
who has always claimed to support it. Arafat himself has done much
to blur the difference over the past two years, with his speeches
to Arab audiences calling for a thousand martyrs and the liberation
of holy Jerusalem.
Most Israelis
and Israeli politicians are secular and tend to see Jewish identity
as an ethnic characteristic, rather than a religious choice. They
see Zionism as a modern national liberation movement, not an ideology
of religious or ethnic discrimination. They see Jerusalem as central
to Jewish national identity over the millennia. But this Jerusalem
centers around the Western Wall and need not extend to the newly
enlarged boundaries of municipal Jerusalem drawn after the 1967
war. Most Israeli Jews have no interest in traveling to, let alone
ruling, Arab residential areas of the city. Jerusalem as Israel’s
eternal and indivisible capital was a powerful political slogan
in Israel for years. But once the Barak government dared to shatter
that taboo two years ago, it lost much of its power.
What does remain
politically powerful is the swing vote represented by the settler
households. Settler voters in the West Bank and Gaza, even excluding
the Jewish neighborhoods of East Jerusalem, represent about 5 percent
of the electorate in a country where elections are usually decided
by far narrower margins. Labor Party politicians have rarely dared
to challenge the settlers even though most Labor voters would readily
trade the settlements for peace. This timidity has historically
hobbled Labor’s peacemaking efforts and helps explain why the settler
population continued to grow rapidly even during the Barak government.
Likud leaders like Sharon count the settlers as an important part
of their political base. The Palestinians have a markedly different
view of history and justice. As they see it, no authoritative voice
existed to speak for Palestinian interests before the PLO was created
in 1964 and recognized by the Arab League as the sole legitimate
representative of the Palestinian people in 1974. Justice, especially
for the pre-PLO period, is defined by a series of United Nations
resolutions, which, to the Palestinians, represent international
law. This international law, in their eyes, entitles them to rights,
which they would be foolish to give up. One relevant example is
the right of the 1948 refugees to return to their original homes,
as recognized in General Assembly Resolution 194 of 1948. Palestinians
also refer to what they consider Israeli violations of the legal
obligations placed on occupying powers by the Geneva Conventions.
For many years, and even today, the Palestinians have been far more
successful at assembling U.N. majorities than in influencing facts
on the ground in Palestine. This imbalance has left Palestinians
with an unrealistic regard for the power of United Nations resolutions
and Israelis with an abiding distrust in the fairness of the world
organization.
The Palestinians
see their struggle as comparable to other modern national liberation
struggles. Correspondingly, they see Israel acting as one of the
last remaining colonial powers, trying to hold on to the West Bank
and Gaza Strip with an army of occupation and hundreds of thousands
of colonial settlers. Palestinians understand Oslo as an implicit
Israeli promise to turn over 100 percent of the occupied territories,
including East Jerusalem, and thus they view Barak’s Camp David
offer of some 90 percent of those territories not as generous but
as an effort to extract 100 percent of the peace for less than 100
percent of the land. In this view, Arafat’s rejection of this offer
was a reasonable negotiating tactic that led to a more acceptable
Israeli territorial offer at Taba. For many Palestinians then, Taba
was not the end of the Oslo road, but the closest step yet to a
final agreement and the point from which any new negotiations should
resume.
West Bank and
Gaza Palestinians see Arafat as a historic national leader, but
also as a corrupt and authoritarian ruler. They are suspicious of
his close associates who returned with him from exile in Tunis and
would like to see more power go to local West Bank and Gaza leaders.
These include some of the people who have emerged as leaders of
the Al Aksa intifada, like Marwan Barghouti. The chances of Palestinian
voters rejecting Arafat at the polls were never great, and have
probably grown slimmer since Bush’s June 24 speech. Arafat has never
allowed potential rivals to emerge and has constrained free political
debate and expression. As things now stand, however, he would be
the heavy favorite to win even a fairly run contest followed by
a scrupulously honest vote.
*David C.
Unger is a member of the New York Times Editorial Board.
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