WORLD, Page 59MIDDLE EASTStill Stuck in the Stone AgeAs the Palestinian uprising enters its third year, both sideshave reason to mournBy Jon D. Hull/JERUSALEM
Beatings. Mass arrests. Rubber, plastic and lead bullets. The
Israeli army has deployed all these and more against the
Palestinians in a futile effort to smash the revolt that erupted
in the occupied West Bank and Gaza Strip on Dec. 9, 1987. In the
two years since then, Israel's politicians have bickered endlessly
and fruitlessly in the search for a solution. The intifadeh goes
on, the deaths go on, the Arab-Israeli stalemate goes on.
Back in 1987, few thought the revolt would last long enough to
mark a first anniversary, let alone a second. Israeli leaders
insisted the rebellion would be quickly crushed. But a second year
without a settlement pays credit to the Palestinians' remarkable
endurance and ingenuity. Armed with stones and Molotov cocktails,
Arab youths have managed to confound the Israeli army, regain their
tattered pride, and remind the world that Israel's "enlightened"
occupation is a painful contradiction in terms. Yet many
Palestinians fear their revolution has stalled. Mass demonstrations
have given way to smaller skirmishes waged by a hard-core group of
activists, and Israel has yet to concede so much as an inch of
land. Meanwhile, the world's attention has been diverted by more
dramatic events elsewhere. Frustrated and embittered, many
Palestinians wonder whether they can afford the price necessary to
reach a compromise.
Since the first fusillade of stones and bullets two years ago,
more than 750 Palestinians have been killed and tens of thousands
wounded. Sixty have been expelled, and 6,000 remain imprisoned
without trial. Israeli troops have sealed or demolished at least
400 homes. At the same time, the Jewish population in the
territories has increased 12%, to nearly 80,000, not including East
Jerusalem, and the government has quietly inaugurated six new
settlements.
Yet none of this has spelled defeat for the Palestinians.
Ironically, the uprising's survival is assured by the army's harsh
measures, which are drastic enough to guarantee hatred among Arabs
but not to end the revolt. The methods Israel has refined to keep
the intifadeh in check may be more responsible for Palestinian
solidarity than the slogans of the Arab leadership, so that the
uprising has been institutionalized as a self-perpetuating
expression of pride and anger. But a growing number of Arab
extremists argue that stones are no longer sufficient. "The only
way we're going to get rid of the Israelis is with force," says a
young activist from Nablus. "We have to make them suffer." So far,
Palestinians have succeeded in killing 42 Jews, most of them
civilians. The activist says several hundred more will have to die
before Israel can be brought to the negotiating table.
Palestinian guerrillas armed with automatic weapons offered a
grim demonstration of that philosophy last month when they ambushed
an Israeli patrol in the Gaza Strip and killed two soldiers. But
stepped-up Palestinian violence will only beget more violence from
Israel. Warned Brigadier General Zvi Poleg, who commands Israeli
forces in Gaza: "The rules of the game change when lethal weapons
are used against soldiers."
That is precisely what worries Palestinian moderates, who fear
that any escalation would jeopardize hard-won international
sympathy. Already, the carefully nurtured image of a rebellion
fought by children with stones has been tarnished by a gruesome
turn to Arab-vs.-Arab bloodshed. At least 140 Palestinians have
been shot, beaten, stabbed or hacked to death by fellow Arabs. Most
of the victims were charged with collaborating with the occupation.
The Palestinians most hated by their neighbors are those who
brandish Israeli-provided weapons. In the West Bank village of
Ya`bad everyone knows -- and shuns -- three Palestinian brothers
who watch over the community with binoculars, Uzis and
walkie-talkies. Says a resident: "These traitors carry out the
army's job, beating people, destroying property and shooting in the
air day and night just to scare us." Intifadeh leaders have made
such blatant collaboration a capital offense. Other victims are
accused of offending Islamic factions by trafficking in drugs and
sex. And some are the victims of personal vendettas or tribal
rivalries: the label of collaborator provides a convenient cover
for settling scores.
To many Israelis, these killings are proof that the uprising
is merely a brutish expression of Palestinian hostility. But that
attitude ignores the fundamental accomplishments of the intifadeh.
Two years of prime-time revolt have wrought an extraordinary shift
in international, and especially U.S., public opinion, convincing
many of Israel's supporters that the Jewish nation's continued rule
over 1.7 million Arabs is dangerous and absurd. And after decades
of serving as pawns for larger powers, the Palestinians in the West
Bank and Gaza have taken control of the Arab struggle against
Israel, forcing the rest of the Arab world to play catch-up.
Jordan's King Hussein took his cue last year by revoking his claim
to the West Bank. Last December P.L.O. Chairman Yasser Arafat made
capital out of the uprising by renouncing terrorism and recognizing
Israel's right to exist.
Arafat's excruciating conversion earned the P.L.O. a dialogue
with Washington, but brought on nightmares in Jerusalem. Pressure
mounted from the Bush Administration and American Jews, and Israeli
Prime Minister Yitzhak Shamir finally countered with an initiative
last spring that calls for elections among Palestinians in the
territories. Representatives chosen there would negotiate a period
of autonomy with Israel, to be followed by the promise of talks on
a final settlement.
Jerusalem has been in the middle of a game of hot potato ever
since. The main obstacle: how to assemble a Palestinian delegation
that gives Arafat a voice but allows Israel to pretend that the
P.L.O. is not party to negotiations. So far, no formula has been
found. While the U.S. is growing impatient with Shamir's delaying
tactics, President Bush appears unwilling to expend his political
capital by pressuring Shamir. Privately, many U.S. officials have
concluded that Shamir is incapable of compromise.
Most Israelis have grown inured to the disturbances. Except
for annual stints in the reserves, few ever come into contact with
the violence. "We've simply got used to the intifadeh," says Joseph
Alpher, deputy head of the Jaffee Center for Strategic Studies in
Tel Aviv. "The hardships are not unbearable." But the insidious
effects are profound, and may eventually force Israel to choose
between the territorial claims of its more extreme politicians and
sheer self-preservation.
Israeli moderates warn that the occupation is corrupting both
the army and society. Says Israeli author David Grossman, whose
1988 book, The Yellow Wind, limned the destructive effect on
Israel's soul of the continued occupation of the West Bank: "We are
training our youngsters to be cruel and brutal. They bring that
back home."
Israel's growing number of hard-liners remain unsatisfied with
what they see as the army's insufficiently tough approach.
Complains Noam Arnon, a spokesman for settlers in Hebron: "This is
a war, but the army treats it like a minor disturbance." Yuval
Ne'eman, a right-wing Knesset member and advocate of annexation,
accuses the government of outright appeasement. "We're moving in
the direction of giving up land," he says. "The Arabs have brought
Mr. Shamir to his knees."
Few Palestinians would agree. Without some movement in the
peace process, they may soon conclude that further violence is the
only way to force a political breakthrough. Says Grossman: "I'm
afraid things will have to get much worse before they improve. I'm
afraid it will have to become a violent crisis." That would suit
both Arab and Jewish extremists just fine. Israeli hawks have been
waiting for an excuse to pull out the heavy artillery, and Arab
radicals are eager to renew their holy war. As the intifadeh enters
its third year, both sides seem poised for nothing more than
