Uncertainty
In Palestine
By Charmaine
Seitz
05 November 2004
Palestine Report,
In
the early hours of October 28, as dozens of journalists, mid-rung political
officials and curious onlookers milled around outside President Arafat's
Ramallah compound speculating on the health of their leader, one Palestinian
reporter evoked critical minutes in the shaping of early Islam. Cynically,
he recalled how the Prophet Mohammed's followers disputed the succession
only hours after he lay dead.
It was an acknowledgement
of the moment's import (some believed the president had already passed
away) and impending uncertainty. One day later, a frail Arafat was airlifted
out of Ramallah, away from the offices in which he had been ensconced
for nearly three years under threat of expulsion, and flown to a Paris
hospital to determine exactly what caused his collapse.
Reportedly, the
president was sipping soup with his top advisors when he vomited and
then slipped into unconsciousness on November 27. Doctors in Paris have
ruled out leukemia, but a battery of tests has yet to come back conclusive
as to the cause of his ailment. Israel has promised that Arafat will
be allowed to return to Ramallah once his treatment is finished. Still,
statements by Israeli officials reflect their assessment that Arafat
has departed the political scene for good.
For Palestinians,
the implications of Arafat's absence are not so clear. At the most grassroots
level, no one is currently signing the endless requests for monetary
intervention by impoverished faction loyalists that fill the president's
desk and which he alone can approve. While Palestine Liberation Organization
number two Mahmoud Abbas, Prime Minister Ahmed Qrei', and Legislative
Council Speaker Rawhi Fattouh have all called meetings of their respective
leadership bodies to maintain the appearance of order, no substantive
decisions were made at those meetings.
Officials have gone
out of their way to avoid the appearance of a coup after media reports
at the height of Arafat's illness said he had approved a triad of Abbas,
Qrei' and Fattouh to govern in his place. Arafat heard this and dispatched
Azzam Al Ahmed to publicly refute the news. Until the French doctors
pass their verdict, most of the top leadership is carefully maintaining
the status quo. Symbolically, Arafat's chair has remained empty at meetings.
Were Arafat to die,
Palestinian law provides that the Speaker of the Legislative Council
take the reigns of power for 60 days until elections can be held. The
difficulty of holding elections, the relative obscurity of the current
Legislative Council speaker, as well as concerns that the strained political
system cannot support such an interim period have all inspired speculation
that other arrangements may be initiated. Vouching for ongoing PLO prominence
as the heart of Palestinian leadership, most observers believe that
Abbas would eventually take the reigns.
In the event that
Arafat requires extended treatment abroad, however, PLO Executive Committee
member Hanna Ameera thinks an uneasy balance of power could persist
for as long as a year. The problem, he says, is that this new vacuum
has occurred at a time of great pressure in all of the major leadership
bodies. Fateh, the president's faction, has been clamoring to hold elections
in its ranks to promote the younger leadership after more than a decade.
A host of smaller Palestinian factions are demanding seats in the decision-making
bodies of the PLO. Finally, the cabinet is currently discussing the
Palestinian election law: when and if presidential and legislative elections
will take place.
"Whenever anyone
wants to change anything, it will affect the period of coexistence,"
says Ameera. And that, he worries, will lead to trouble. "In the
past, everything was in the hands of one person. Now it is in the hands
of three or four, and those three or four are not entirely in control."
Initially Abbas
seemed to balk at convening the National and Islamic Forces established
to guide the Intifada, but also used by Arafat to undermine Abbas' decisions
during his brief stint as prime minister. Abbas was stung by the group's
criticisms after he gave a 2003 Aqaba summit speech seen by many Palestinians
as far too compromising. Fears that he would not convene the body, however,
set off a panic within smaller factions that have no seat in the PLO
but were invited by Arafat to participate in the group. Their fears
were allayed when the meeting was eventually held without incident.
From Rafah, further
from the official center of power and closer to the encroaching Israeli
military, comes another worry. "If Israel were to refuse to allow
the president to return," says one Fateh activist, "this could
cause a new escalation. Everyone, young and old, has some emotional
connection with Abu Ammar. It could be as significant as Sharon's visit
to Al Aqsa Mosque [that sparked the second Intifada]."
For those who witnessed
the meager turnout for the president's early-morning departure on October
29, it is hard to imagine such fervor. Several Ramallah women who previously
participated in rallies outside the president's offices ascribe the
lack of a rousing public send-off to the ongoing fast of Ramadan. Don't
forget, they add, the Palestinian Authority has given us little to support.
Only an Islamist
movement backer dismisses fears of a power struggle in the president's
prolonged absence. Metaphorically, he also recalls the death of the
Prophet Mohammed, telling the story of how Omar raised his sword to
strike down anyone who dared to claim the prophet had breathed a last
breath. Abu Bakr rebuked him. "If anyone worships Mohammed,"
Abu Bakr reportedly said, "Mohammed is dead. If anyone worships
God, God is alive, immortal."
Slipping easily
into Islamist political rhetoric, this man's message is that the Palestinian
struggle is a long one, unfettered by the physical fate of any one man.
As the president's absence is more widely felt, only the political faction
able to implement that message will succeed in curbing public unease.