Liberated Palestinians Torn Between Autocracy, Democracy

By Sherna Berger Gluck

Despite the very restricted and inequitable arrangements with the Israelis agreed to by the Yasser Arafat-led PLO and the abysmal material conditions in the West Bank and, especially, in the Gaza Strip, there is a new air of openness in Occupied Palestine. People freely identify their political faction/party and are critical of the lack of internal democracy in their own groups. And the Palestinian police and soldiers on the street in the Bantustan-like enclave of Gaza seem more like members of a people's army than the arm of a state. Their informal yet professional stance, their friendly outreach to passersby, and their decidedly unmacho posture would seem to bode well for the future.

Less than 100 feet from the beachfront Palestine Hotel where members of Arafat's entourage are residing, a refreshment stand operator has hung a picture of Arafat rival George Habash, head of the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine (PFLP), right next to a picture of Arafat. Even the name of the modest beachfront stand, "The Return," serves as a reproach to Arafat, signatory of the Oslo and Cairo agreements that contain no clear provisions for the return of either the 800,000 1967 refugees and their families or the more than 3 million family members of the 1948 refugee population.

I was impressed that the proprietor of this modest business, who made it clear that he is a PFLP activist, felt free to declare his political sentiments so openly.

I also was impressed by my conversations with one of the 124 members of Arafat's personal security force, who invited me and my West Bank companion to have coffee with him. Worldly, candid, and fluent in English, he talked about his duties, his experiences as a PLO soldier stationed in Yemen, and his feeling of awkwardness in this land that now seems foreign to him.

The next morning we resumed our conversation under the makeshift sun canopy set up by the proprietor of "The Return." When I asked the soldier if he was uneasy about the PFLP affiliation of the proprietor, he explained with a laugh: "No, he is my friend. We agree on some things, argue about others. But we [the Palestinian National Authority] need everybody—the left and the right—in order to keep on our course." Another hopeful sign, I thought. All the Palestinian friends to whom I related my experience agreed, even the most skeptical among them.

Their skepticism had been fueled by, among other things, the nature and method of the appointments that Arafat has made since assuming his position as president. Even Fatah loyalists have been critical of his reliance on the "outsiders" on the one hand, and the selection of political cronies with no particular expertise among the "insiders," on the other hand. So far, the experience, skills and political commitment—including imprisonment—among the insiders has not counted for much. As a result, two different political and cultural divides have been created or widened. One is between the inside, those who have been living under occupation, and the outside, meaning the long-term refugees returning with Yasser Arafat. The other is between the new generation of activists and professionals and the generation preceding them.

While the PLO in Tunis under Arafat's control was not noted for its democratic methods, the Palestinians inside the Israeli-occupied territories have forged a different political reality, especially since the beginning of the intifada in December 1987. They created a relatively democratic civil society. Non-governmental organizations (NGOs) proliferated, meeting a variety of social, cultural and educational needs. The Unified National Leadership of the Uprising (UNLU) operated by consensus. And the coalition of secular nationalist forces that came together periodically to issue public declarations represented the spectrum of political positions and the various sectors of the population.

Pluralism, if not complete democracy, flourished, even under the repressive Israeli occupation authority. People were proud of the civil society they had created and generally had confidence in the underground leadership. By contrast, a recent poll found only 53 percent of respondents approving the way the PLO is exercising its authority in the "autonomous areas of the Gaza Strip and Jericho."

This lack of confidence, criticism of the May 1994 Cairo Accord (even among the three political factions that generally support agreements with Israel), and discomfort with the autocratic authority that Arafat asserts could be immobilizing. In fact, the intifada has left its mark in terms of organized resistance to such autocracy, and to traditional attitudes and practices. For instance, following the Madrid Conference in 1991 and the initiation of bilateral negotiations in Washington between the Palestinians and the Israelis, the Palestinians established 25 technical committees to develop proposals on different issues. Only four women were included among the more than 300 people appointed to these committees.

The segment of the organized women's movement that supported the Washington negotiations (those aligned with Arafat's Fatah, the group that splintered away from the Democratic Front for the Liberation of Palestine [DFLP] and now is known as FIDA, the Communist Party, and many of the non-aligned feminists) reacted vigorously by forming a Women's Affairs Technical Committee. Refusing to be ghettoized, they demanded representation on all the committees. This mobilization by the women's movement laid the groundwork for their recent issuance of an unequivocally feminist Women's Charter. How it is received and acted upon by the PNA will be a barometer of how receptive the emerging state will be to change and to democratic practices—particularly in light of the anticipated rejection of the document by the Islamic militants of Hamas, whom Arafat is busily courting.

Another legacy of the intifada has been the widespread criticism of the Basic Law—a kind of temporary constitution for the transitional period. Drafted by a committee under the direction of the chair of the Palestine National Council (PNC) Legal Committee, it was issued in December 1993 without wide consultation or public discussion.

Fundamental freedoms were recognized, along with a host of U.N. conventions. (Notably absent was the Convention to End Discrimination Against Women.) However, the authority granted to the executive, while not absolute, is largely unchecked. Predictably, the document met with harsh criticism. Following meetings with different constituencies, it went through two more drafts and led to major improvements. Of symbolic importance is the fact that the document is now promulgated "in the name of the Palestinian people." A parliamentary democracy with a multi-party system has been declared, and equality is guaranteed to women.

This responsiveness to public criticism is encouraging, but what is happening on the ground still can be described as a cat-and-mouse game. A statement is issued by Arafat or one of his appointees. If there is a public clamor, he backs off.

This is what happened following the trial balloon floated by the chief of police in Gaza that martial law might be necessary for one year since the police do not know "who are the good people and who are the bad." When protests were voiced, he claimed he had been misunderstood and retracted his statement.

Most recently, following King Hussein of Jordan's discussions with Israeli Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin about Jordan's role in administration of the holy sites of Jerusalem, Arafat prohibited the distribution of An-Nahar, the pro-Jordanian newspaper—in direct violation of Article 16 of the Basic Law. While he at first seemed to characterize this action as merely a misunderstanding about licensing, the ban was only lifted after several weeks.

Arafat's most direct assault on the pluralism that Palestinians inside have come to value occurred in a dispute over the make-up of the Gaza Municipal Council. Mansour Shawwa, a member of one of Gaza's leading families, was asked by Arafat to put together a list of names for the council. After wide consultation with all the factions (including Hamas), associations, and large families, Shawwa constructed a seemingly balanced and representative slate upon which there was consensus. When Arafat refused to accept a fifth version of this slate, Mansour Shawwa threatened to step down from the mayoral position.

Instead of backing off, however, Arafat turned to another member of the Shawwa family, who constructed a list that was dominated by Arafat's own organization, Fatah. A similar scenario has unfolded in Nablus, which many predict will be the next area in the West Bank to be granted limited self-rule.

A Viable Third Force

Is Palestine destined to become just another Arab autocracy? Arafat's behavior fits the pattern of creating a government party under one-man rule, à la Syria or Iraq. However, the strength of the civil society created during the heyday of the intifada has the potential to reverse this course. Determined to hold onto their aspirations for a pluralistic, democratic society, an array of NGOs (research centers, professional associations, cultural centers, health committees, etc.) now are coordinating their efforts to become a viable third force in the society—an alternative to both the private and governmental public sectors.

Despite the combination of idealism and pragmatism that drives this endeavor, its success will depend largely on the control and distribution of economic resources. So far, by virtue of their independent and direct funding from international organizations, most NGOs have managed to maintain their autonomy. However, if a proposal by the transitional authority is implemented and NGO funds must be funneled through the Finance Ministry, the independence and very survival of these NGOs are in jeopardy.

The World Bank and donor countries that have promised to help underwrite the cost of the transitional authority have demanded that Arafat establish a system of accountability and have balked at granting the promised funds as long as he holds onto all the purse strings. While their stance may be essentially paternalistic, it nevertheless can bolster forces struggling to assure a democratic future. International progressive forces should intentionally work to this end, calling for an end to one-party rule, even as they simultaneously work for the creation of a sovereign Palestinian state and the return of the refugees to Palestine. Anything less betrays the dream that fueled the intifada.

Sherna Berger Gluck, a professor at California State University, Long Beach, and author of the newly published book An American Feminist in Palestine: The Intifada Years (Temple University Press), has just returned from her fifth visit to Occupied Palestine.