In Gaza, Era of Hope Becomes Era of Make Believe

By Marilyn Raschka

In the Gaza Strip, the era of hope for Palestinians is passing through a period of make believe. Coming into the city along Omar el-Mukhtar Street—Gaza City's main thoroughfare—the visitor sees a wide median strip being converted into what will resemble a park. "Arafat wants a more presentable [media] backdrop to where he delivers his speeches," pointed out a resident foreigner. Palestinian National Authority President Yasser Arafat's speeches are intended to fuel enthusiasm for the fledgling Palestinian autonomy.

One small but problematic step in the direction of that autonomy has been the issuance of Palestinian postage stamps. The handsome stamps—each block entitled "The Palestinian Authority" in English and Arabic—come in four denominations, each a different image: a trio of Palestinian flags, a detail from the Hisham Palace in Jericho, the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem and the Dome of the Rock in Jerusalem. Their value is given in Palestinian mils at present a nonexistent currency. One buys these sure-to-be collectors' items in Israeli shekels, the only valid currency in the Strip.

Because no country will accept letters bearing these stamps, they are valid only on mail posted in Gaza and Jericho for delivery in Gaza and Jericho. Gazans wanting to mail to destinations outside Gaza have to cross into Israel. There also is no way at present for incoming mail to arrive on Gaza's shores.

The initial burst of energy following the 1993 Yasser Arafat-Yitzhak Rabin handshake and signing ceremony is surfacing all over Gaza City. Hundreds of new construction sites are churning up the land. From certain spots Gaza City has the look of today's Beirut—and many wonder, as they do in Lebanon, who will buy these luxury apartments in such an unstable land. Perhaps these Gazan developers, like the Lebanese, are counting on the foreign community—especially diplomats—to take up residence. But so far, only Germany, the Netherlands, Turkey, Morocco, Norway and Egypt have named envoys.

Palestinian flags and banners, on sale at grocery shops, flap in the gusts of wind generated by the constant flow of unruly traffic which has yet to obey the newly appointed policemen.

The entire infrastructure—so long neglected by Israel—is awaiting the massive international assistance it will take to shape it up. Road repair will get a needed helping hand from an international $10 million project financed by Japan ($5 million), the U.S. ($4 million) and Sweden ($1 million). To make believe that garbage collection in Gaza is regular would take some doing—but long-term residents say streets are somewhat cleaner.

Population and Unemployment

Attitudes rather than lack of funds are a major obstacle in family planning. A drive through the refugee camps would make anyone believe that Gaza's main problem is one of population and the accompanying problems of providing medical care, education, employment and housing. In Gaza and the occupied territories as a whole the Palestinian labor force grows by up to 15,000 a year. Therefore when the Israelis closed the Gaza Strip following the Jan. 22 killing of 20 Israelis by a suicide bomb, unemployment in Gaza reached 75 percent. (In Israel, unemployment is 7.8 percent.)

Clinics at UNRWA (U.N. Relief and Works Agency) centers report that couples sometimes are willing to use birth control devices to space the births of their children, but never to limit them.

Intercommunal peace has been high on President Arafat's list of priorities. He has declared Christmas a national Palestinian holiday and has made the rounds visiting the two Christian schools in Gaza City as well as the Christian community's spiritual leaders. Teachers at the schools proudly show visitors albums brimming with pictures of a beaming Arafat hugging schoolchildren and posing with priests as he works at strengthening bridges between Gaza's Muslim and Christian communities.

Numbering fewer than 3,000, Gaza's Christians are a tiny, non-threatening minority who enjoy telling visitors: "This man is a Muslim, I am a Christian, you can see there are no problems."

But during the tense days of the intifada and the rise of Muslim fundamentalism the community watched its step. "We couldn't be walking together like this in those days," a Christian man said as he guided me around the city.

Fundamentalism still has credibility in Gaza, where the city's only park—with its formal gardens, well-trimmed trees and welcoming benches—was closed by Islamist pressure because couples were seen holding hands. Today, little boys scale the fence and wander freely inside, laughing and beckoning adult passersby to come and join them.

One sign of long ago days when Gazans were restricted by neither Israeli occupation nor Islamist zealotry is the Nasr movie theater on Omar el-Mukhtar Street. There are no plans to "dust off" the place or pry open the rusty locks, but fun seems to be making a comeback in other quarters where pinball machines have been seen and heard.

The saddest arena of make believe is the Gazan economy. Although now free to export to Israel, Palestinians have little in the way of domestic industry. Three purely Palestinian manufactured items caught my eye during my visit: packaged (processed) orange juice, dessert wafers and drinking glasses decorated with a decal of Arafat's face and familiar keffiyeh headdress. Turkish and Egyptian products appear on the shelves of the so-called supermarkets but Israeli goods are in overwhelming majority. Even with international monetary infusions and assistance, increased purchasing power by Palestinians will, at least for the foreseeable future, aid the Israeli economy more than their own.

Enjoying a very different lifestyle are the several thousand Jewish settlers whose oases are off-limits to all foreign visitors, including Americans. When approaching their areas the first path of resistance is the Palestinian police force. If you are a Gazan Palestinian you are turned back immediately. If a foreigner, you are allowed to approach the Israeli soldiers a few meters ahead, where the answer is a firm "no."

But even seen from a distance, the settlements' manicured lands, well-kept streets, and pleasant villas are made to be believed in the land of make believe that Gaza has become.

Marilyn Raschka is a free-lance writer who lives in Beirut.