Collapsing Peace Process Fractures Hard-Won Palestinian Unity

By Brother Patrick White

"Please come with us to Kessan!" they urged. We were standing in the Bethlehem University courtyard on a balmy December afternoon. Books and lecture notes under one arm, anxious to get to my class, I did not have time for leisurely talk. Sensing my impatience to get away, the young Palestinians from Deheisheh refugee camp made their plea quickly.

"We need someone to write about what is going on there," a young man said. "You can do it!"

I had been asked several times the previous week to drive out to see the village. What was new about Kessan? Rather like the whole Palestinian question, as far as the world media were concerned, the story had been told. Yet I must have shown some slight hesitation, for the former students from Deheisheh pressed ahead, persuading me to go the following day.

After classes we motored in the soft winter sunshine on narrow twisting West Bank roads. As we wound among the limestone ridges and wadis that run eastward into the desert, descending eventually into the chasm of the rift valley and the Dead Sea, the graduates briefed me on the plight of the people of Kessan.

In 1988, at the beginning of the intifada, the Israelis destroyed 40 houses in this village, under the pretext that the people had built them illegally. Nearby, an Israeli settlement called Maale Amos was expanding and required more land. Clearly the intention was to move the village with its people and flocks of sheep and goats to make way for the expanding settlement.

Sixty Palestinian families refused to leave, and for the last four years they have barely survived in tents and temporary huts provided by foreign non-governmental organizations. Arrangements have been made to transport their children to schools, and to supply them with water and some semblance of health care. My former students had volunteered their labor to build a kindergarten. The Israeli army, however, was threatening to pull down the half-built structure. Construction had stopped and appeals had been made to the courts.

You would hardly notice Kessan as you drive by. Its huts, tents and scattered stone buildings perch on an exposed and otherwise uninhabited desert plateau 3,000 feet above sea level. As Taha, Adnan and the driver talked to the men of the village I wandered round. Scraggly chickens scurried across the rocky surface, chained dogs barked, drab washing hung on an improvised line. A tiny stone hut seemed to be the only place where there was a fire for a kitchen. Taken to two small Red Crescent tents, I discovered they housed all the worldly belongings of a family of 10. Taha explained to me that he had come last winter during a storm. The gray squalor of Deheisheh refugee camp, he said, was palatial compared to living in tents that were soaked through and almost blown away. The noise inside the tents during the gale, he exclaimed, "was terrifying, like an earthquake!"

Interspersed among the makeshift tents and huts were twisted columns of steel and concrete. These ugly forms were all that remained of the former houses. Like large broken uplifted hands, the distorted pillars cried to the heavens in protest.

The Human Paradox

As I roamed, almost unannounced the sun set, evening stars appeared and darkness suddenly enveloped the desert hills. Raised voices and frenzied gesticulations from the small gathering of the young men from Deheisheh and the leaders of the village caught my attention. With their restless forms silhouetted against the red sky, the paradox of our human condition was immediately apparent.

In spite of the breathtaking beauty around them—the world "charged with the grandeur of God"—tiny human figures were in noisy dispute. The picture seemed a poetic representation or symbol of the situation in the Holy Land this season.

On our return journey, my graduate friends protested about the intractability of the people of Kessan. Feuding and jealousies, disputes and disunity impeded the assistance offered by the various agencies.

"It's their ancient ways, they are bedouin. Their leader is an unreasonable man! " Taha remonstrated. "The agency wants to provide prefabricated huts for those who have lost their homes. Now those who still have stone houses are demanding the huts as well!"

The situation mirrored in microcosm the wider dilemma on the West Bank and in Gaza. Palestinians under occupation are experiencing the break-up and near disintegration of their society. Despite the favorable impression the Palestinian delegation has given to the world during the peace talks in Washington, support for their efforts is rapidly eroding on the ground amongst the Palestinian population in the Israeli-occupied territories.

Palestinian society, previously so united against the 25 years of Israeli military occupation, particularly at the beginning of the intifada five years ago, is now badly factionalized. Every segment of society is politicized: families, institutions, schools and universities. The divisions among the parties focus primarily on attitudes toward the peace process.

A Political Microcosm

Firsthand experience of this is to be had within the Bethlehem University community. After student elections last spring, the mainline Fatah (which is generally in favor of the peace process) took control of the student senate. The radical factions of the PLO—the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine and the Democratic Front for the Liberation of Palestine (representing various degrees of opposition to the peace process)—are seeking opportunities to gain influence and power. So are the Islamic fundamentalists of Hamas.

This battle for power and influence has spread everywhere. Palestinians feel forced to associate themselves with one faction or another to gain protection or to accomplish simple everyday tasks such as buying land, selling a house, seeking a post or obtaining employment. Though it is true that the patriarchal society that used to dominate Palestinian society operated in a similar way, some stability resulted.

Now the new political pressures extend the unsettling process to the formation of committees in preparation for possible autonomy or eventual self-rule. Committees for housing, water, social services, education, health and social solidarity, though often controlled by Fatah, are nevertheless divided and rife with jealousies and power struggles. Although they are called paper bureaucracies, having no real power or influence, it is nevertheless discouraging to see the fragmentation and duplication at such a crucial time.

A dangerous void is developing in the political and social areas of life on the West Bank and in Gaza. Though there are still regular strike days and the shops are still closed most afternoons, 95 percent of the people disagree with these decisions and consider the strikes futile. When their own shops close on strike days, busy Palestinians from East Jerusalem shop in Israeli supermarkets in West Jerusalem.

The great majority of the people are not in harmony with many of the often conflicting directives from their leaders. Unity of spirit and purpose are replaced by basic self-preservation and the need of ordinary people to lead normal lives.

This void is particularly alarming within the society itself. Violence among Palestinians is not new, particularly in relation to collaborators. But desperation and disorder have spread in other ways.

A recent spate of violent robberies in Bethlehem and elsewhere on the West Bank has caused alarm, but people seem unable to respond in a cohesive or unified manner. Admittedly, under Israeli occupation, and particularly since the intifada, the police force does not have the confidence of the people to enforce law and order. Palestinians under occupation live in continual fear of each other, whereas at the beginning of the intifada there was a sense of purpose and a willingness to cooperate.

Decline in social cohesion is manifest too in widespread corruption. Well-intentioned foreign agencies, particularly from the European Community, assist in funding projects. Sometimes these efforts result in duplication, and there are allegations that some funds are misappropriated. When the Palestinian economy and institutions are in dire need of help. with 70 percent of the people living below the poverty line and 40 percent out of work, such developments are distressing.

Sadly, the Israelis are well aware of these weaknesses, caused primarily by the continuing harsh restrictions of the military occupation and the lack of any real opportunity for Palestinians to control and plan their future. As the peace talks drag on and nothing fundamentally changes in the conditions of the people living in the West Bank and Gaza. the credibility of those Palestinians conducting the talks declines.

The longer the peace talks continue without result, the weaker the PLO becomes. Nor does it have the financial resources it once had. It is reported that the West Bank and Gaza are receiving only 80 percent of the customary financial aid from the PLO this year. One wonders how long the PLO, with diminishing resources, will be able to finance the very expensive peace process.

Are the Israelis sincere in their quest for peace'? For many the objective of a Greater Israel remains unchanged, as attested by the continuing rapid pace of settlement development in East Jerusalem, the West Bank and in Gaza.

There are also wider considerations that affect the issue. In the desert lands of the Middle East, where the three monotheistic religions were born, the Holy Land, and particularly Jerusalem, complicate the problem for Christians, Jews and Muslims the world over. Particularly for the Israelis, the attitude of the surrounding Muslim states in the Middle East is crucial.

Nonetheless I do think the present Israeli government does want to transform its relationship with the Palestinians. Just as the Palestinian people of Kessan will not leave their land, so the entire Palestinian population under military occupation, which in a short time will number two million, are here to stay. Whilst the national and religious character of Israel prevents Israelis from incorporating such large numbers of Palestinians into their state, they will eventually have to recognize Palestinians as a people. But to transform enemies into friends will entail a high political price for both peoples.

A Last Christmas in Bethlehem

December 1992 marked the fifth anniversary of the intifada. For me it was my seventh and last Christmas here. As we drove back from Kessan through the villages of Teqoa and Zattara, past the massive conical hill of the Herodian, I recognized the places I had hiked to in the days before the uprising. Deeply saddened that I was seeing my last Christmas in Bethlehem and dismayed that I would no longer be teaching those wonderful young Palestinian students in the university classes, I felt, nevertheless, immensely grateful for the privilege of having been in the Holy Land, of having been so enriched by the humanity of the Palestinians, and of having received far more than I had given. Now my journeying soul urged me to be on my pilgrim way.

As we passed Shepherds' Field and the lights of the houses of Beit Sahour, an Israeli army jeep traveling fast on the crown of the road forced us to the side, a reminder of imperial Israel. Then the familiar climb up the untidy hill to Bethlehem. I was pleased now I had taken some time to travel to Kessan. Had I seen anything really new, apart from the symbolic group of human figures arguing on a bare plateau in the desert twilight?

Yes, there was something more! In the astonishing beauty of the desert evening I had witnessed Bethlehem six miles away raised on its hillside. I had never before seen it from the east and from the desert in darkness. The Advent vespers that evening spoke to me in a special way: ''The Lord will dawn on you in radiant beauty! " And, "You will see his glory within you." There it was, Bethlehem, its lights hardly distinguished from the clusters of stars in the evening sky, "And for all this, nature is never spent;'' for God's spirit ''over the bent world broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.''