Palestinian Self Determination: Missing Plank in the Platform

The second night of the Democratic Party's national convention in Atlanta was the Rev. Jesse Jackson's, and before it was over there wasn't a dry eye in the house. The convention hall seats 16,000 people, but even before Jackson arrived to make his speech, it was filled to overflowing. Everyone wanted to be present for the emotional highlight of the three-day session, and when fire marshals closed the doors, many national Democratic party and civil rights notables found themselves locked out of an event that some had traveled thousands of miles to see.

Jackson lived up to his reputation as America's most stirring orator. As the television cameras moved from one ecstatic, rapt, or tear-stained face to another, each reflecting a different thread in the colorful American ethnic quilt, Jackson's moment in the national spotlight was one that no American who saw it will ever forget.

For Americans middle-aged or older, just the sight of a black man, born in a southern shanty to a housemaid, being introduced to a national television audience by his rive well-dressed, well-spoken, well-educated children symbolized how far their country had come in one lifetime. For younger Americans, Jackson articulated ideals held in common. Yes to education; no to drugs. Yes to the environment, no to despoliation. Yes to economic justice, no to economic exploitation. Yes to peace, no to war.

Jackson's Message of Hope

For his own special constituency, the underprivileged and the underpaid, Jackson's was a message of hope. No matter who you are or where you are, you can be better. You can make it. It's no tragedy to fall short of achieving personal goals. The only tragedy is to have no goals.

For all, it was a moment of catharsis: Americans, no matter how diverse, can find common ground. No matter whether their ancestors came to the new world in an immigrant ship or a slave ship, they're all in the same boat.

A descendent of Americans who came in a slave ship was articulating as clearly and as passionately as it had ever been expressed the vision of America's founding fathers: Americans can be better; America will be better.

If the speech, on prime time national television, was a moment of national catharsis, history was also made on that second day of the convention—out of the spotlight and not on prime time. Delegates on the convention floor, and an audience for the public affairs channel of cable television, heard—for the first time in a major American political convention—a debate on Palestinian self-determination.

The fix was in from the beginning. Jackson had never wavered in his two-tiered Middle East policy: security for Israel, self-determination for the Palestinians. In short, the two-state solution. Nor did Dukakis pander to Jewish voters as did all of the other Democratic candidates still viable by the time the New York primary election was held. But Dukakis didn't want anything in his party platform that would alienate American supporters of Israel.

Like it or not, Jewish donors and the labor movement are the two financial pillars of the Democratic party. And Dukakis, with a Jewish wife and Jewish advisers, knew as well as anyone else how important pro-Israel donations are to an election campaign. Money buys television time. Television time buys name recognition. Name recognition translates into votes.

So, the deal worked out was that Jesse Jackson's supporters, a significant bloc of whom were Arab Americans, would be allowed to bring up the issues of Palestinian statehood, along with a lot of other Jackson issues, but that the Palestinian self-determination issue would not be put to a vote, and therefore would not get into the party platform. The issue was introduced by James Zogby, president of the Arab-American Institute and a passionate activist for peace who has devoted recent years to educating Jackson and other mainstream American political leaders about the Palestine problem. What was not on the schedule was the enthusiasm with which Zogby's speech was received by delegates on the floor.

Arguments Against the Plank

The case against including Palestinian self-determination in the platform was then presented by Sen. Daniel Inouye from Hawaii who, as a young man, sold bonds for Israel, considered converting to Judaism, and then learned that he could be much more valuable to Israel as a Christian and certified war hero who lost an arm in World War II combat. It was he who made a lightning trip, which he's never admitted, to Israel just before officiating at the Iran-contra hearings. It was he who changed the subject whenever the testimony began to point to Israel as the source of the most scandalous, and stupid, foreign policy initiative in American history—ransoming American hostages in Lebanon by allowing the Israelis to sell American weapons to the Ayatollah Khomeini's Iran. And it is he who helps Israel obtain billions of US taxpayer dollars annually.

Inouye, still Israel's most obedient servant, tried to present the Palestinian self-determination issue as contrary to American interests. To his consternation, he was roundly, soundly, and repeatedly booed from the floor. The clamor of rejection was so strong that sergeants-at-arms and delegation leaders had to keep shushing the delegates. After all, the fix was in. This issue was not going to come to a vote.

There was another speaker for the Palestinian self-determination plank Mervyn Dymally, an articulate and erudite black congressmen from southern California. Again, cheers and rapt attention. And there was another speaker against the plank, Charles E. Schumer, a Jewish congressman from New York. Again, catcalls and such raucous booing that delegation heads had to stop proceedings to get members in line.

Majority of Delegates Favored Palestinian Self-Determination

The issue was not brought to a vote. But pollsters moved around the floor and, to the horror of Israel's Democratic claque at the convention, their findings soon found their way onto national news programs. Seventy percent of the delegates on the floor, pollsters found, supported inclusion of self-determination for the Palestinians in the party platform. An interviewer for Cable News Network, moving from delegate to delegate, asked if there was anything that had disappointed them so far. Several in a row cited omission of the Palestinian plank from the party platform.

Most dramatic, perhaps, was Zogby's appearance at the end of a long day on "Crossfire," a televised Cable News Network program co-hosted by arch conservative Pat Buchanan, and super liberal Tom Braden. Braden took Zogby to task for not forcing the Palestinian plank to a vote. Buchanan cited the 70 percent delegate support revealed by the informal poll.

Zogby's response was simple and to the point. "We don't need a vote," he said. "We'll carry on. This is a beginning, not an end."

It wasn't quite the last word, however. The next day the Washington Post revealed the names of 44 "managing trustees" of the Democratic Party Victory Fund, each of whom had made a commitment to raise $500,000 for the fund before election day. There was also a list of 197 additional donors pledged to raise $100,000 each. These pledges, along with previous efforts by the fund, might mean that the Democratic Dukakis campaign would be as well-funded as the Republican Bush campaign, a notable departure from past history.

Outspending the Republicans

Peter G. Kelly, former Democratic National Committee finance chairman and now one of the half million dollar "managing trustees" told the Post: "I figure that in 1980 we got outspent by 16 to 1, in 1984 by about two to one. This year, my guess is we may be able to outspend the Republicans."

Reading names of the donors helped explain why Palestinian self determination never made it to the Democratic Party platform. It doesn't explain, however, how it's going to be kept out of the hearts and minds of all American voters who agree with the words of Jesse Jackson in his memorable speech that support for self determination and human rights for all is the right thing, the decent thing, and a vital part of the "common ground" that all Americans must share.