Tuning Into the Palestinians

The Palestinian problem is the most intractable part of the Middle Eastern conflict. The Palestinians are fragmented, geographically and politically. Those who live in the territory of the former British mandate of Palestine are divided into two groups--Israeli Arabs, and the Arabs of the occupied West Bank and Gaza strip. Those who left Palestine either in 1948, when Israel became a state, or in 1967, when Israel moved into the West Bank and Gaza, are dispersed all over the Middle East, in Jordan, in the Emirates, in Saudi Arabia, in Syria, in Lebanon where the guerillas of the Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO) are located. Some Palestinians owe their allegiance to the state in which they live; others recognize the PLO as their spokesman; the allegiance of the Palestinians of the West Bank--which was part of Jordan between 1948 and 1967--is the stake of a contest between the PLO and Jordan. The PLO itself is a coalition of ideologically disparate movements.

The attempt by the PLO to unite those fragments and to turn a dispersed people into a nation and a state has of course met with fierce resistance from Israel. The PLO's charter calls for the destruction of Israel; many of the Palestinians in exile come from what is now the state of Israel, and claim a right to return, in which Israel sees a threat to its existence.

But even a sovereign state of Palestine limited to the West Bank and Gaza is unacceptable to Israel's political leaders, who fear its attraction on Israeli Arabs, and see in it a possible Soviet base, or at least a permanent threat to Israel's security if this state should be controlled by the PLO. Since giving to the occupied Palestinians the right of self-determination could lead to such a state, Israel has refused to grant it. But the PLO, in turn, declines to recognize Israel's existence, as long as Israel does not acknowledge this right and refuses to deal with the PLO. The deadlock is total.

But the PLO does not only wage war with Israel. It is also engaged in a complicated battle with the Arab states. None of these is enthusiastic about a PLO-led state. Some, like Saudi Arabia, fear its potential radicalism. Others, like Syria or Iraq, would like to control the future of the Palestinian nation. Jordan, of course, would prefer to reassert its authority over the West Bank, and Egypt over Gaza. However, for tactical reasons at least, all the Arab states agree that the Palestinians must be given the right of self-determination.

In the next ten or 12 months, we should keep our eye on three different arenas. First, there is the negotiation between Egypt, Israel and the U.S., which aims at giving substance to the ambiguous and open-ended Camp David agreement on a five-year, transitional autonomy scheme for the West Bank and Gaza. Second, there is the strained relationship between the U.S. (and Egypt) on the one hand, and the rest of the Arab world, which has denounced the Israeli-Egyptian peace treaty and attacked the Camp David agreement as unacceptable. Thirdly, there is the complicated game that goes on between the Palestinian leaders in the occupied territories, the PLO (to whom most of these proclaim their allegiance) and Jordan.

The negotiations between Egypt, Israel and the U.S., under the auspices of Robert Strauss, President Carter's chief Middle East negotiator, are likely to lead to an agreement, if only because the U.S., in an election period, is in no position to try to force Israel to turn autonomy into a prelude to self-determination, and because Egypt, primarily concerned with the return of the Sinai, will probably ask for little more in the occupied territories than the creation of an administrative council with limited powers--the rest being up to the Palestinians themselves.

And while Israel's initial negotiating position has been extraordinarily restrictive, the Begin government has every incentive to yield just enough to keep Sadat happy, to worsen the split between Egypt and the other Arabs, and perhaps to attract Jordan and to divide the Palestinians in the occupied territories into rejectionists and gradualists. But such an agreement is not likely to be endorsed by the other Arabs, including Jordan, insofar as it will most probably leave East Jerusalem outside the scope of the autonomy scheme, leave the issue of Israeli settlements unresolved, and continue not to grant explicitly to the Palestinians the right of self-determination at the end of five years.

The Palestinians in the occupied territories will consult with the PLO and with Jordan (who have a strong incentive to coordinate their response, since the PLO does not want a split that would allow Jordan to reestablish its authority over a part of the Palestinian leadership in the West Bank, and Jordan does not want a split that would allow the PLO to turn the radical elments of the Palestinian people, in the West Bank and outside, against the regime of King Hussein).

If after such consultation, the Palestinians refuse to run for office in the West Bank and Gaza, the "autonomy" road will have turned into a dead end. The U.S., in order to heal its rift with the Arabs other than Egypt--a rift that may have serious effects on the price and quantities of Saudi oil--will have to find a new way, and return to the idea of a comprehensive settlement. If, on the contrary, the West Bank Palestinians, while denouncing the autonomy scheme as insufficient, decide, in agreement with the PLO and Jordan, to run for office and to keep pressing for an enlargement of their powers and for full self-determination after five years, Begin will appear as having played the role of the sorcerer's apprentice when he launched the idea of autonomy.

It is precisely because autonomy (rather than perpetuating Israel's grip over the West Bank and Gaza while alleviating the costs and load of occupation, as Begin seems to hope) may lead either to a dead end, or to a destination unwelcome to most Israelis, that Israel's Labor Party and many Americans still hope for a "Jordanian solution." But Hussein seems reluctant to risk compromising his kingdom's stability by imposing his rule on Palestinians who, after 12 years under Israeli occupation, appear eager for an entity of their own.

A "Jordanian solution" would require, first, a willingness of Israel to give up the Labor Party's notion of partition of the West Bank, which is as unacceptable to Jordan as it is to the Palestinians or the PLO; secondly, the acceptance of such a solution by the West Bank leaders. While the PLO has few military cards, it has decisive assets when it comes to a political solution, largely because of its hold over the West Bank population, and because of its capacity, if kept aside, to make trouble for all the Arab states other than Egypt--something Syria has already experienced.

For the U.S., in the future, to talk with the PLO would not "build up" a dangerous organization, or condone terrorism. It would simply acknowledge reality: the PLO holds, if not the key, at least one of the keys to any future solution, and would lose it only if it allowed itself to be separated from the inhabitants of the occupied territories. Arafat, so far, has shown remarkable powers of survival and diplomatic skill. A solution will require the involvement of the Palestinians from the occupied territories, Hussein and Arafat. It is precisely because they know it that Hussein himself, and the leaders of Saudi Arabia, have advised the Carter administration to make contact with the PLO.

[Stanley H. Hoffman is professor of Government.]