The New Palestinian Revolt

Chris Hedges

From Foreign Affairs, January/February 2001

Summary:  Last autumn's fresh outbreak of violence between Palestinians and Israelis has shaken an assumption that has reigned since the 1993 Oslo peace accords: that negotiations and interim agreements can lay the roadwork for a lasting peace. Now Oslo's delegitimization has swayed public opinion in Israel and the occupied territories away from compromise and toward more radical solutions.

Chris Hedges is a reporter for The New York Times. He was Middle East Bureau Chief for The Dallas Morning News and The New York Times, based in Jerusalem and Cairo, from 1988 to 1995.

Gaza and the West Bank have become the Middle East's version of the South African townships during the apartheid regime. Nearly all the indignities visited on South African blacks -- the lack of electoral representation, the dependence on work and travel permits, the curfews, the land confiscations, the arbitrary arrests, and the marginalization from the growing economy -- are also part of Israel's relationship with the Palestinians.

On Israeli orders in October, travel between Palestinian towns on the West Bank ended, the borders with Egypt and Jordan were sealed, and all trade with those countries stopped. (Israeli authorities later amended this ruling to allow some agricultural imports into Israel.) All commercial trade between the Palestinian Authority and Israel was also cut off, although Israel did pledge to somewhat ease the restrictions for the Muslim holy month of Ramadan that began in late November. Shortages in food and cooking fuel resulted from a halt in Israeli deliveries of basic goods into Gaza, and some 120,000 Palestinians lost access to their jobs in Israel. In addition, because the Israelis control the principal sources of electricity, fuel, and water, they can choose to compound the shortages by cutting basic services or communications with the outside world. Indeed, Israeli authorities have already threatened to turn off the power because of late payments. Fuel, telephone service, and water could be next. Even the currency is Israeli: in Gaza and the West Bank, Palestinians pay for goods in Israeli shekels.

Arafat has called the economic blockade an act of war, little different from "rockets, planes, and tanks." Indeed, the United Nations estimates that the blockade withholds $3.4 million from the territories each day. Salem Ajluni, an economic specialist in Gaza with the U.N. Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organization (unesco), estimates that the losses could amount to $650 million a year, or about 63 percent of the Palestinian Authority's revenue, excluding foreign donations. (Only contributions from Kuwait and Saudi Arabia enabled the Palestinian Authority to pay the November salaries of its 115,000 employees.) And the losses are bound to climb now that Israel has frozen the transfers of funds that it collects on behalf of the Palestinian Authority -- as agreed under the autonomy accords -- including sales taxes and customs duties.

There are now growing demonstrations in Israel by frustrated Jews who carry placards reading "let the army win." Israeli Defense Force commanders have complained that Prime Minister Ehud Barak is too worried about international censure to allow them to take appropriate measures against armed Palestinians. Protesters' demands include a total blockade of Gaza and the West Bank, seizing land to build new roads through the territories, and more aggressive reprisals, especially against some of the senior Palestinian leaders believed to be behind the revolt.

Barak has threatened to carry out a "unilateral separation" from the territories -- fencing off the Palestinian enclaves and annexing Israeli settlements in the West Bank. In this scenario, the best Israel can hope for is a tenuous truce once the Palestinians capitulate. If the tactic fails to bring about a Palestinian submission, then Israel may have to resort to the kind of offensive military activity that many Israeli commanders are now advocating.

In Palestinian eyes, the peace process is not providing more autonomy from Israel and will not do so until the Jewish settlements are gone. For Palestinians, the Israeli occupation will not have ended until they control their own roads, borders, and economy. An enduring peace requires sovereignty over East Jerusalem and the al-Aqsa Mosque, sacred land that was in Muslim hands from the seventh century until 1967. An acceptable settlement must also provide either an agreement for the return of Palestinian refugees who fled Israel or compensation for the property and homes that they left behind. Unless these changes occur, the Palestinians appear set to go on fighting, especially after the failure of Oslo.

I was in Gaza City on the October night when the Israelis first fired rockets from attack helicopters at three targets in retaliation for the killings of two Israelis. The furious crowds that surged through the streets were, like those who led the first intifada, made up of the poorest in the Gaza Strip. And just as the first intifada was directed not only against the Israelis but also against the Palestinian bourgeoisie -- the shopkeepers and business owners in Gaza City -- this new intifada has twin targets. Armed militias, increasingly beyond the control of Arafat's Fatah movement, are once again collecting "war taxes" from frightened shopkeepers. But this time, Arafat's own organization is targeted along with the Palestinian middle class. In the days following Israel's helicopter attacks, Palestinian mobs burned shops and hotels selling alcohol -- owned by Arafat's corrupt and despised Palestinian Authority officials.

Tens of thousands of enraged youth, calling not on Fatah but on the militant Islamic group Hamas to avenge the attacks, flooded down the main avenue. The mood in the crowd, which waved green banners with Arabic script, was ugly. Faces were contorted. Many seemed incapable of answering simple questions. They pushed, shoved, spat, and shouted at once. Sweat streamed down faces. None were able to stay still.

"This is so painful for us," said Samil Aloushas, 20, as he stood bare-chested in the street with a group of friends. "The world has left us powerless. We do not have these tanks, these missiles, and these helicopters. How can we fight back? Yet we must. We must defend Jerusalem from attack. All we have to sacrifice is ourselves. Everyone here is ready to do this. We are a nation now of suicide bombers. This is what the Israelis have done to us."

Those who speak for the Palestinians today are found in mosques, not the air-conditioned offices of Arafat's seaside compound. The secular heroes of the old intifada have been replaced by bearded Islamic warriors who trigger powerful suicide bombs and embrace an asceticism that stands in stark contrast to Fatah's hedonism and corruption.