The Shock of Recognition

In the waning weeks of 1988, a wave of shocks hit the Middle East. The source of the shock wave was not an earthquake or, for once, an aerial bombardment. The earth, in fact, stood still. But Middle East politics were shaken, and perhaps permanently altered, by succeeding shocks of recognition.

First, the Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO) made official its recognition of Israel's right to exist. Then, the United States overturned its Kissinger-era policy of boycotting the PLO and finally recognized the organization as a legitimate player in the Middle East peace process.

At this writing, any optimism about Middle East peace should still be of the most guarded variety. But these developments are indisputably evidence of the kind of "new thinking" that will be needed to break what had appeared to be a permanent logjam of historical, emotional, and religious interests and passions that has gripped Israelis and Palestinians for more than 40 years.

Those seeking proof that God has a sense of irony need only look at the Palestinian-Israeli conflict. Here God has apparently chosen the territory widely considered to be his or her earthly front yard--the very land where God's prophets brought the message of peace--as the site for one of history's most dangerous tests of the frail human capacity for empathy. And hardheaded geopolitical talk to the contrary, empathy is finally what the conflict is about. Its resolution requires that both of the peoples involved break free from the iron ethic of the tribe and recognize the real grievances and interests of the other party.

It seems unfair to ask so much of these two peoples, each of whom have their own deep emotional, historical, and religious reasons for clinging to their particular claims. It certainly doesn't seem fair to the Israelis. They gained Jewish statehood only after centuries of persecution and slaughter in the European diaspora, culminating in the ultimate atrocity of the Holocaust. Since 1948 they've been beleaguered by hostile neighbors who view Israel as an unwelcome alien presence in their midst.

It's also not particularly fair to ask the Palestinians to accept the permanent existence of a Jewish state on the greater part of their historic homeland. It's not fair that the Palestinian Arabs should be the ones to pay the price for European anti-Semitism. It's especially not fair to the Palestinian exiles who were forcibly removed, or fled in terror, at the creation of Israel. They and their descendants now number almost two million. They've seen the state of Israel rise on the very land, and sometimes in the very houses, to which some of them hold title.

It's not fair. But that is what history is requiring of Israelis and Palestinians. And for 40 years, the world has waited for one of the two sides to dare to take the first step in acknowledging the claims of the other.

IN NOVEMBER THE Palestine National Council, the PLO's parliament-in-exile, meeting in Algiers, took such a first step when it indirectly declared its acceptance of a two-state solution. The acceptance came in the form of a resolution calling for an international Middle East peace conference based on all relevant United Nations resolutions, explicitly including the much-discussed Resolution 242.

Resolution 242 was passed in the wake of Israel's seizure of the West Bank, Gaza, the Sinai, and the Golan Heights in the 1967 Arab-Israeli war. It calls for Israel's "withdrawal from all territories acquired by force," and the negotiation of a peace based on "the rights of all states in the region to secure boundaries." Since Israel was, and is, one of the states in the region, Arab acceptance of 242 as the basis for Middle East peace has long been considered by the United States to be the litmus test for recognition of Israel's permanent right to exist.

The PLO has been reluctant to embrace 242 for the self-evident reason that the Palestinians were not one of the "states in the region" and 242 made no provision for their attaining statehood. It referred to the Palestinians only obliquely as "the refugee problem." As the PLO has evolved toward acceptance of a two-state solution, it has engaged in a rather intricate minuet with Resolution 242. In recent years Yasser Arafat and other moderate spokespersons have talked of "accepting all U.N. resolutions" relevant to the Palestine question. When asked, they would admit that this included 242.

At Algiers the PLO for the first time officially and explicitly stated its acceptance of 242, along with all other relevant resolutions, as a basis for negotiations. Also at Algiers the PLO took another step toward a two-state solution by declaring the existence of the necessary second state--the independent, Palestinian one. The declaration did not declare the state's boundaries; those are subject to negotiation. But it clearly intends to assume authority for the occupied territories of the West Bank and Gaza.

The Palestinian declaration of independence was clearly the result of the intifada, or uprising, in the occupied territories. Palestinians in the West Bank and Gaza have been discussing such a declaration for months. The declaration comprises a formal charter for their refusal of the occupation and states before the world community their allegiance to their own national authority.

Paradoxically, the moves toward moderating the PLO stance toward Israel are also the result of the uprising. The intifada has changed the balance of power between Israel and the Palestinians. From their new position of greater strength, the Palestinians now believe that they can make concessions with the expectation of concrete results. Also, the uprising has increased the influence of the West Bankers and Gazans within the PLO. These Palestinians, having lived with and under Israel for more than 20 years, tend toward a more realistic assessment of the Jewish state and Palestinian prospects than that held by some of their exiled kindred.

WHILE THE PLO will ultimately have to make its deal with Israel, little Israeli movement was expected in response to the new positions. In fact, the Algiers resolutions were aimed primarily at opening the door to talks with the United States, which is widely and correctly perceived as the only power capable of affecting Israeli policies.

For the first few weeks, the U.S. response consisted of reflexive nay-saying, as if denying the new PLO stance would make it go away. The final insult seemed to come when Secretary of State George Shultz denied Arafat permission to enter the United States to address the United Nations.

But, to their credit, Arafat and his associates did not take this as a final rejection. Instead they followed through with new, and even more conciliatory, statements at a meeting with U.S. Jews in Stockholm and at the United Nations session-in-exile in Geneva. The PLO leaders moved to eliminate U.S. objections as quickly as they could be raised, and wielded the threat of peace with ever-increasing vigor.

Finally, at a Geneva press conference two days after his U.N. speech, Arafat gave America one more chance, all but saying, "Read my lips: We recognize Israel." With that the United States at last got the message and announced that talks with the PLO would begin.

The United States' willingness to talk to the PLO is not the end of anything. It is only the beginning of a beginning, wiping away one of the worst impediments to a genuine peace process. But we can hope that this willingness to rethink outmoded and counterproductive positions will prove contagious, perhaps even spreading, via close U.S.-Israeli relations, all the way to Tel Aviv and West Jerusalem, where the next steps must be taken.

Danny Duncan Collum is a Sojourners contributing editor.