John Hockenberry, Jerusalem correspondent for National Public Radio, tells of an interview he conducted with three teenage Palestinians in the West Bank town of Ramallah. He asked them what they want to do when they grow up. The first replied, "I want to be the first woman president of Palestine." The second wanted to be an engineer; the third, a surgeon.
When Hockenberry asked his driver, a middle-aged Muslim man, what he thought about these young women's aspirations, the driver said with a smile, "Since the intifada everything has changed. Everything!"
It is a new day. After years of political deadlock, there is now considerable movement on all sides of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. The sharp rhetoric and intransigent positions so characteristic of this tragic confrontation have given way in some quarters to more moderate, accommodating positions that call for a negotiated settlement.
Most Middle East observers believe that 1989 will be a critical year in the elusive search for justice and peace in the Middle East. Without question, various religious and ethnic groups -- both in the Middle East and in the West -- will watch closely and seek to influence the course of events during the coming weeks and months.
Concerned Christians in the United States can and should play a constructive role in this process. The multifaceted developments today raise a number of questions that require clarification: What are the new dynamics among the 1.7 million Palestinians living in the occupied West Bank and Gaza and the PLO (Palestine Liberation Organization) leadership in the diaspora? How have developments in 1988 and early 1989 shifted the debate within Israel and in the larger Jewish community? Is there hope for substantial and creative new initiatives from Israel's coalition government headed by Yitzhak Shamir? How might the United States and Soviet Union facilitate the process leading toward justice, peace, and security for Israelis and Palestinians?
New Dynamics Among Palestinians
Having lived in the Middle East and traveled frequently throughout the region during the past 12 years, I was impressed with the dramatically different dynamics at work during an intense 10-day visit to Israel, the West Bank, Gaza, and Cyprus in late January. Palestinians in a wide variety of settings expressed their sense of hope, frustration, and ambiguity. I am reminded of the opening sentence of Charles Dickens' A Tale of Two Cities: "It was the best of times; it was the worst of times."
Palestinians in the Occupied Territories exhibit a new degree of optimism. For many, it is the "best of times" -- in recent memory at least. While there have been hopeful interludes during the nearly 22 years of military occupation, never have so many people from various walks of life seemed so hopeful about the possibility of a resolution to the long-standing conflict, a hope grounded in several positive and dramatic developments during the past six months, namely: actions in 1988 by the Palestine National Council (PNC) meeting in Algiers; the warm reception to PLO Chairman Yasir Arafat's United Nations speech and press conference in Geneva; the U.S. decision to open a dialogue with the PLO leadership; new levels of unity and dialogue between Palestinians living under occupation and PLO leadership in the diaspora; and substantial moderation in the public positions taken by some Israeli and U.S. Jewish leaders in recent months.
Without question, the Palestinian intifada (uprising) has been the catalyst. Recognizing that no outside power was going to resolve the conflict, indigenous Palestinians united in a spontaneous and remarkably unified protest beginning in early December 1987. Stepping up various actions that had been employed sporadically for years -- commercial strikes, boycotts, public demonstrations, confronting Israeli soldiers -- Palestinians discovered a new strength in their unity. And, for the first time, the world media focused on their sustained protests with daily coverage. Palestinian resolve strengthened as they discovered growing support around the world.
Despite numerous efforts to round up and imprison the underground leadership, referred to as the Unified Command, the Israeli government has failed to squash the intifada. Rather, the situation has inspired new, more sophisticated forms of communication and consensus -building among Palestinians both within the Occupied Territories and in the official PLO leadership.
A striking feature of the contemporary scene is the healthy, democratic dialogue among Palestinians. While the overwhelming majority have always supported the PLO (through its various factions), prior to the intifada West Bank and Gaza Palestinians largely followed the lead of diaspora leaders. Now, however, the debate goes back and forth. The PLO leadership, as represented by Arafat, today reflects an even broader base. Perhaps the most telling indication of this new dynamic was seen in the actions of the PNC meeting in Algiers.
The PNC decision to declare an independent Palestinian state alongside Israel represented a major shift in the direction of accommodation and moderation. For years many centrists within the PLO had been moving steadily toward a two-state solution. They were unable, however, to win consensus for this position, particularly among Palestinians who originally lived in Jaffa, Haifa, and other places within the 1948-67 boundaries of Israel. The strong, unambiguous message of the intifada moved the process forward.
Palestinians living alongside Israelis had come to terms with the reality of coexistence. The indigenous Palestinians stressed that the time had come to accept what they viewed as partial justice as the only realistic way to achieve self-determination and satisfy the nationalist impulse within their community.
The message was not lost on PLO leaders. George Habash, leader of the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine, one of the more hard-line PLO groups, did not agree with the PNC decisions; but he also stated publicly that he would not block what was clearly the will of the majority. It was a new day in Palestinian politics.
Specifically, the PNC declared the existence of a Palestinian state citing U.N. Resolution 181 as the legitimate birth certificate. This resolution included the original partition plan for two states -- a Jewish Israeli and an Arab Palestinian state -- in Palestine. In 1947-48, Israelis accepted the plan while the Arab world did not. Now, four decades later, the Palestinians have declared that the legitimacy of their state rests on the same international basis as Israel's does.
Next, the PNC looked to 1967 and U.N. Resolution 242 to define the boundaries. Finally, the PNC called for an international conference under U.N. auspices to provide the framework within which to work out the many difficult issues requiring resolution.
These actions, together with Arafat's clarification of the PNC's statement renouncing the use of terrorism, provided the U.S. government with the rationale to shift the course of policy it has followed since 1975. In December, U.S. officials met openly with PLO officials in Tunisia to begin a substantive dialogue. Far more important than the dialogue, however, was the public recognition of the PLO as legitimate representatives of the Palestinian people.
Three major political challenges face the PLO in the coming months: articulating clearly the specific agenda affirmed by the PNC as well as clarifying points that are negotiable; building diplomatic support for a workable peace process with appropriate assistance from the international community; and refraining from violent rhetoric and actions that will cast doubt on the sincerity of the PLO and its credibility as a negotiating partner.
Today in the West Bank and Gaza, one finds a great sense of expectation. There is a sense of joy and freedom heretofore unseen. Palestinians express confidence that the force of events will necessitate changes in current Israeli policies. It is a remarkable and uplifting experience to see people demand, stand up for, and celebrate their freedom.
IT IS DEEPLY SADDENING, though, to see firsthand how high a price is being paid in human terms. The second half of Dickens' affirmation is also true. The level of suffering in the Occupied Territories -- physical, economic, psychological, and institutional -- is staggering. Visiting people in refugee camps and hospitals brings the dreadful reality into sharp focus.
The human tragedy for individuals and families may be softened, but it cannot be erased by the hopeful signs of progress on the political horizon. Sorrow knows no national boundaries. Grief is an emotion common to all people. The pain of seeing loved ones killed or of knowing that they are held captive and abused is experienced by Palestinians just as it would be with any other human community.
The resolve to continue the intifada until there is a mutually acceptable settlement is firm. Palestinians know there is no turning back and that the price will remain high. Even in the best-case scenario, that of a political settlement immediately, enormous problems will continue to face this community.
The institutions are in disarray. For three semesters youngsters and college students have not been in school. Hospitals and clinics cannot keep up with the need for emergency care. Thousands of people with serious injuries are in urgent need of both physical and occupational therapy. Economic problems, which already abound, will be magnified in any new political configuration. At such time as a settlement is finally realized, the political unity currently visible among Palestinians will be difficult to sustain with various persons and groups vying for power. At best, the road ahead is long and littered with major obstacles.
Developments in Israel
For years, Israeli governments (both Labor and Likud) have managed to avoid confronting directly a haunting dilemma: How can Israel hold on to the territories captured in 1967 and continue to be both a Jewish state and a democracy? The uprising has forced the issue into the open. To annex the territories and give the Palestinians citizenship is unacceptable for demographic reasons. Within a generation these Palestinians, together with the nearly 700,000 Arab citizens within Israel, will outnumber the Israeli Jewish community. The nature of the Jewish state would be changed by virtue of democratic elections.
Another option, advocated by a small minority of extremists on the Right, calls for the physical displacement of most (or all) of the Arab population. These ideologues stress that Israel cannot be both Jewish and democratic and share the land with the large Arab population. Therefore, the only option is to remove the obstacle. Removal of the indigenous population may be achieved, these people argue, by buying them out or even carrying out mass deportation schemes.
The most hopeful, humane, and realistic option for a peace settlement requires some territorial concessions. Although many political figures and a wide array of peace activists in Israel share this orientation, no consensus exists yet on the details.
For several weeks after the intifada began, Israeli leaders assured the citizenry that the military would crush this rebellion. Nearly 16 months later, Defense Minister Yitzhak Rabin still maintains that the military can put down the revolt. Few Israelis now believe it.
Indeed, during my visit in January, both Rabin and Prime Minister Shamir came under fierce public criticism when soldiers challenged them openly in front of Israeli TV crews. The Israeli troops told them the policies they were being asked to implement were demoralizing and ineffective. Fascinated by this public debate, I asked one thoughtful analyst of Israeli politics what she thought this meant. Her reply: "I think it means Shamir will not visit the troops with TV cameras present in the near future!"
THERE ARE SHIFTING undercurrents in Israel today. Without question, the large majority realizes that the status quo is in no one's interest. Virtually every Israeli I spoke with in January expressed concern for the suffering and plight of the Palestinians. They differed substantially, as one would expect, on what, if anything, should be done differently in response to the intifada. Most people emphasized that Israel, too, is paying a very high price during the intifada. The moral-ethical, psychological, economic, and political damage done in Israel has not begun to be calculated.
In the United States, many American Jewish leaders and other strong supporters of Israel have become increasingly vocal in the new, healthy public debate. A striking array of prominent figures (from Alexander Schindler to Rita Hauser, Arthur Hertzberg, and Woody Allen) have challenged traditional thinking through newspaper editorials, TV interviews, and public appeals. These voices and thousands more have been heard both within Israel as well as in the corridors of power here in the United States.
In the same vein, the strong, negative reaction in the United States over the "Who is a Jew?" debate in Israel was instructive. While the issue was not linked directly to the conflict, the furor expressed by Jewish leaders here revealed their growing frustration with the hard-line, possibly self-destructive policies by the Israeli government.
In my view, the large majority of Israeli Jews deeply desire a durable peace. Their first requirement, with good reason, will be very firm security guarantees. In spite of the current military configuration, the experience of history and geographical and demographic realities pose real dangers. People beset by insecurity for more than three millennia are understandably slow to risk the measure of security they have achieved.
Christians sitting comfortably in the West must endeavor to understand these dynamics well when they seek to be peacemakers. As one rabbi put it to me recently, "It's not that we Jews don't trust the motives of our Christian friends ... but we are wary. Two thousand years of Christian love is almost more than we Jews can bear!'"
While the risks to Israel of a land-for-peace settlement are real, a growing segment of Israeli society sees an even greater danger in continuing the current situation. When one asks Israelis what is possible given the current political structure in their nation, the responses run the gamut. Most seem to feel that Shamir is the political leader best able to deliver a political settlement.
Following the logic that it took Nixon to open relations with China and Begin to make peace with Egypt, political savants concur that Shamir has the best chance to unite a substantial portion of the Israeli Right with a substantial portion of the Labor Party and other more dovish factions. The question remains: Does Shamir have any intention of moving toward a negotiated settlement?
Some Israelis are quick to identify Shamir as a tough-minded pragmatist. They believe he and his top advisers have determined to shift from the long-standing, hard-line position to a more flexible posture. In this view, the parameters of the "deal" are being fashioned; the scheme will be put forward when the time is most advantageous for Israel. The major obstacle in this scenario comes from West Bank settlers and others on the conservative fringes of the political spectrum.
Others doubt that any such planning or thinking is in process. They believe Shamir has no intention of conceding any land for peace. Indeed, his frequent campaign promise not to give up "one inch of Eretz Israel" strengthens the case. Rather, such analysts see Shamir simply stalling for more time on the theory that the intifada cannot be sustained indefinitely and a more favorable political climate will emerge.
In the early weeks of 1989, the Israeli prime minister has dropped several hints indicating that he had a new peace plan. Substantive details have been slow to surface, however. Estimates are that, at best, the proposal is likely to be little more than a reworking of the failed "autonomy plan" as envisioned by Israel during the Camp David process. Allowing indigenous Palestinians to have authority over garbage collection and other selected municipal services in return for calling off the intifada is hardly an inspiring diplomatic step forward.
Other actors, such as Foreign Minister Moshe Arens, Defense Minister Rabin, and young Likud leaders Dan Meridor and Ehud Olmert, have, at times, intimated the depth of concern within Israel and the seriousness with which alternative plans are being debated -- even on the conservative side of the political spectrum. There is now some discussion on what role the United Nations might play, for instance, in facilitating a negotiating process.
More progressive voices, like that of Labor Minister-without-portfolio Ezer Weitzman (formerly Begin's defense minister), have called upon Israel to begin a process leading to direct negotiations with the PLO. While such views are still quite controversial, the lack of deafening opposition is significant. Meanwhile, a small but articulate chorus of voices from the peace-oriented parties is calling explicitly for a negotiated settlement.
In sum, though slow to emerge, there is considerable ferment within Israel's political establishment today.
The Superpowers' Role in the Middle East
For several years, many knowledgeable students of Middle East issues have underscored the critical role the United States and Soviet Union must play to achieve any durable peace settlement in this troubled region. There is now an unprecedented opportunity for these two world powers to work together and with their closest allies in pursuit of the much-desired peace.
The Middle East may well be remembered as the worst disaster area for Reagan administration foreign policy. After making a strong and, in my view, constructive prime-time speech to the nation on September 1, 1982, President Reagan never pushed the initiatives he outlined. The proposals were rejected promptly by then Prime Minister Begin and the debate was cut short. While hobbling along on the Israeli-Palestinian front, two major disasters occurred on Reagan's watch: the Lebanon debacle and the Iran-contra arms-for-hostages fiasco. U.S. credibility sank to a new low in the volatile region.
The appearance of some success in precipitating an end to the Iran-Iraq Gulf war, the strong push by then Secretary of State George Shultz during 1988, and the diplomatic breakthrough with U.S.-PLO dialogue helped end Reagan's tenure on a more positive note. There is no doubt that the United States can and should play a major role in the Middle East peace process.
The new Bush administration has a new opportunity to work with all the parties to the conflict. Growing concern over the divisions within Israel, the destabilizing continuation of the occupation, and the emergence of realistic Palestinian proposals for a nonviolent settlement all encourage a creative and substantial U.S. leadership role.
Although the early pronouncements by administration officials indicate that other issues -- most notably U.S.-U.S.S.R. relations and Central America -- are higher priorities on the diplomatic agenda, events may well thrust the Middle East onto center stage. There are reasons to be hopeful that the new administration can measure up to the challenge.
The politically difficult decision to recognize and open dialogue with the PLO indicates both the U.S. ability to come to terms with reality -- even if it took a while -- and to demonstrate political courage in the face of considerable opposition. This was not, however, a snap decision.
The State Department has a strong complement of well-informed people in the Near East Bureau. Many U.S. diplomats posted in Washington, D.C., and in the region have long advocated shifts in U.S. policy in order to facilitate the peace process. When the political climate changed with the intifada and PNC actions, these voices became more audible, and constructive steps were taken. Firm public support will be needed to sustain this initiative when the inevitable obstacles appear.
The United States has spoken out with some frequency against human rights violations in Israel and in the Occupied Territories. By far, the strongest and most detailed statement is this year's annual State Department Human Rights Report, which was released on February 8.
This report has sparked substantial debate within the United States. Some now argue for cutting military and economic aid to Israel as a necessary way to put teeth into the U.S. protest over human rights violations. Others see this as potentially counterproductive to the larger goal of a comprehensive settlement to the conflict.
Another challenge facing the United States lies in the diplomatic and political realms. Israel depends heavily on U.S. political support. The United States has an opportunity to make clear that continuing diplomatic support in the United Nations and among Western nations will not be sustained indefinitely if Israel does not show significant progress both on human rights and in the peace process.
As a starting point, the United States could press Israel to respond publicly to the same issues placed before the Palestinians: the Palestinians' right to self-determination; the affirmation of Resolution 242 as the basis for negotiations; and the rejection of the use of violence in order to help build trust and meet security concerns among Palestinians.
A BRIEF CONCLUDING WORD must be said about the implications of the significant changes in the Soviet Union's Middle East role, changes that have come about during the Gorbachev era. In virtually every country, the Soviets have been pursuing a sophisticated, constructive diplomatic path.
While the United States floundered during the Iran-contra affair, the Soviets were quietly going from country to country asking, "How can we help?" The movement out of Afghanistan and internal reforms have enhanced the credibility of such Soviet initiatives.
On the Israeli-Palestinian front, three significant factors are worthy of note. First, the Soviets played a vital, perhaps the critical, role in pressing the PLO to recognize Israel, renounce terrorism, and call for negotiations based on Resolution 242. Not only was there positive support for Arafat, the Soviet Union also helped the more radical Palestinian factions, particularly those based in Syria, to see the wisdom of moderation.
Second, the Soviets and Israelis have had a series of low-level diplomatic contacts. The understated dialogue has been further strengthened by a highly publicized exchange visit between Israeli and Soviet national basketball teams early in 1989. Symbols of growing rapprochement are powerful. Finally, the Soviets have worked to strengthen support for a U.N. role in an international peace conference.
The Soviet Union holds two vital trump cards in the peace process. First, Israel would benefit greatly from the re-establishment of diplomatic relations with the Soviet Union. Second, further improvements in policies affecting Soviet Jewry would speak to a heartfelt concern for Jews around the world.
Allowing full religious freedom and free emigration for Soviet Jews would contribute greatly toward building a positive climate for a comprehensive settlement. Such steps might be one of the few ways to convince the settlers in Israel to give up land in what they consider Judea and Samaria.
The Soviets, too, would benefit. Their own national interests would be served by more stability in the region. And, by encouraging moderation in Israel, they could help stem the political drift to the right. The Soviets worry (and they are not alone) that one day an Ariel Sharon or an even more extreme figure may sit in the prime minister's seat -- especially since that person almost certainly has access to the nuclear button.
Both the superpowers have a vital role to play in helping nurture the process of building trust, facilitating direct negotiations, and providing stability when the fragile process is threatened. In view of the history of Israeli-PLO armed confrontation, it should be clear to everyone that these are not small tasks. There are no easy answers or simple solutions. However, unlike most other periods in the tragic history of this conflict, there now exists the possibility of cooperative efforts to move the peace process forward.
AS PEOPLE OF FAITH, Christians are called to a pastoral, prophetic, and reconciling ministry in the world. In the case of the Middle East, Christians, like Jews and Muslims, are linked historically and theologically to the Holy Land. Further, Christians in the West are related ecumenically to the 10 to 12 million indigenous Christians who continue to live and worship -- often with great suffering and sacrifice -- in the lands where the church was born.
As U.S. Christians we bear a particular responsibility. What we think, do, and say may have a substantial impact on the debate within and beyond our society as well as on the policy decisions implemented by key government officials. Now is a particularly important time for Christians to reflect on developments in the Middle East and consider ways to encourage helpful steps. The people in the Middle East deserve our best efforts.
Charles Kimball was a Southern Baptist minister and the director of the Middle East Office of the National Council of Churches of Christ in the USA when this article appeared.

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