Yasser Arafat and Nelson Mandela are the symbols of peace and hope in the 1990s, but in many ways Arafat faces the more awkward task. John Battersby reports
WHY is it that you are more likely to hear Palestinians than Israelis making comparisons between the Arab-Israeli peace accord and South Africa’s transition to democracy?
“The balance of forces in the two situations are very different. In South Africa the balance clearly favours the black majority, while in the Pales-tine/Israeli situation the balance favours the Israeli/Jewish majority,” points out political scientist Professor Adrian Guelke, who heads the Department of International Studies at Wits University.
Comparisons by outsiders are inevitable. In both situations, a combination of internal resistance and international pressure removed the legitimacy necessary to govern effectively. Initially, both governments relied increasingly on military force rather than making the reforms demanded by the international community. Both accepted finally that they could not win and opted for negotiated settlements.
While the South African minority government agreed to relinquish political power gradually within the framework of a five-year period of national unity government, the Israelis agreed to recognise the right of Palestine to exist in return for a phased process in which the Palestinians would be given the opportunity of limited self-rule.
“It is the best deal we could get … under the circumstances,” Palestine Liberation Organisation chairman Yasser Arafat said shortly after his arrival in Gaza on July 1. Like President Nelson Mandela, Arafat had to settle initially for only a slice of the cake.
In South Africa, the black majority _ through its force of numbers, moral high ground and quality of leadership _ was able to win the giant’s share of the cake. For the Palestinians, this is going to be far more difficult. Arafat will become increasingly reliant on international donors and on forging a chemistry of co-operation with his counterpart, Israeli Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin.
Thousands of Palestinian settlers remain behind bars, Israeli settlers remain under military guard inside the Gaza Strip and the PLO leader has no guarantees regarding the delivery of some $2.1-billion in international aid pledges.
Arafat argues that his return to the Gaza Strip and Jericho this month symbolises the victory of the Palestinian people in a long- standing international conspiracy to deny the right of Palestine to exist, and lays the foundation for a Palestinian state. Many of his critics, however, see his homecoming as tantamount to abandoning hope for the return of the Palestinian refugees from the wars of 1948 and 1967.
They cite the PLO chairman’s autocratic and manipulative style of leadership, his relative lack of stature and his heavy reliance on showmanship as factors mitigating against the transformation to a democratic culture. He also lacks Mandela’s legitimacy because free and fair elections have not yet been held in Gaza and the West Bank.
Another vital disadvantage the PLO faces in leading the campaign for a separate Palestinian state is the lack of economic infrastructure and economic resources in Gaza and the West Bank. Whereas Mandela has inherited a resilient and functioning economy and has all the resources of the state at his command, Arafat does not have a country _ let alone an economy _ and will be heavily reliant on foreign aid to meet the socio-economic aspirations of his people.
Arafat’s return this month remains the Palestinian equivalent of Mandela’s release from prison in February 1990, in the sense that these events symbolise the legalisation of their liberation movements.
Some observers argue that the comparison ends there, because the goal of the Palestinian struggle is a separate Palestinian state while the ANC’s struggle was for majority rule in an integrated and unitary state. The Palestinian quest for self-rule appears headed for an acrimonious divorce, rather than the awkward marriage that characterised the South African transition.
But many observers point to the high degree of economic and geographic interdependence of the Israelis and Palestinians. There is also the need to negotiate shared capital status for Jerusalem, or face an endless and potentially ruinous conflict over the Holy City to which both sides lay claim.
Even some Palestinian academics, like the PLO’s Hannan Ashrawi, do not rule out some eventual form of co-operation _ starting with Jerusalem. On a recent visit to South Africa, Ashrawi was asked in a TV interview whether the answer might not be some kind of Palestinian/Israeli federation. “It is too soon to talk about federation,” she said. “There is a legacy of pain and a long history of conflict and distrust, and you can’t wipe that away … by signing an agreement.”
Ashrawi acknowledged, however, that sharing would have to come into play over Jerusalem. “We propose a two-state Jerusalem … where the principle of sharing would be demonstrated. Jerusalem defies exclusive possession and, if you insist on possessing the city, I think ultimately it will be the cause of conflict rather than peace.”
On his return to Gaza on July 1, Arafat avoided references to thorny issues and even acceded to a request by the chief rabbi of Jerusalem to return on a Friday rather than Saturday, the Jewish day of rest.
And Rabin appeared to go out of his way to use Arafat’s return as a moment to shift Israeli public opinion behind the accord. He acknowledged in principle Arafat’s right to pray in Jerusalem, raised the prospect of Israeli settlers having to move eventually and used the toughest rhetoric ever against Israeli rightwingers.
This hint of rapprochement was perhaps the most hopeful sign that the Arab/Israeli accord may eventually deliver peace.
* John Battersby is the Southern African correspondent of The Christian Science Monitor. He recently visited the Middle East prior to becoming the Monitor’s correspondent in Jerusalem