Fatah and the politics of violence : the institutionalization of a popular struggle 9781845190323, 1845190327

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Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2023 with funding from Kahle/Austin Foundation

https://archive.org/details/fatahpoliticsotvO000kurz

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In Memory of my Mother Aliza Nir

1932-1999

Fatah and the Politics of Violence The Institutionalization of a Popular Struggle Anat N. Kurz

ae) BRIGHTON @ PORTLAND

JAFFEE CENTER FOR STRATEGIC STUDIES

Copyright © The Jaffee Center for Strategic Studies 2005 The right of Anat N. Kurz to be identified as Author of this work has been asserted in accordance

with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

24681097531 First published in 2005 in Great Britain by

SUSSEX ACADEMIC PRESS PO Box 2950 Brighton BN2 5SP and in the United States of America by SUSSEX ACADEMIC PRESS 920 NE 58th Ave Suite 300 Portland, Oregon 97213-3786

All rights reserved. Except for the quotation of short passages for the purposes of criticism and review, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical,

photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher.

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in- Publication Data Kurz, Anat N. Fatah and the politics of violence : the institutionalization of a popular struggle / Anat N. Kurz.

p. cm. Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 1-84519-032-7 (hardcover : alk. paper) 1. Fatah (Organization) 2. Arab-Israeli conflict.

3. Munazamat al-Tahrir al-Filastini 4. Palestinian National Authority. 5. National liberation movements—West Bank. 6. National liberation movements—Gaza Strip. I. Title. DS119.7.K887 2005 956.04—dc22 2004026130

Typeset and designed by G&G Editorial, Brighton & Eastbourne Printed by TJ International, Padstow, Cornwall This book is printed on acid-free paper.

Contents

Preface

Vil

Abbreviations

Introduction CHAPTER

1

The Institutional Analysis of Popular Struggles Institutionalization and Legitimization Organizations and Movements: An Institutional Distinction Institutional Transformation CHAPTER

2

Fatah’s Struggle for Institutionalization CHAPTER

3

The First Institutional Phase, 1959-1965: Regulative Formation Blowing in the Wind: Palestinian Political Action in the 1950s The Sinai Campaign of 1956 Establishing Regulative Legitimacy Mobilization in Theory CHAPTER

23 23 27 29 31

4

The Second Institutional Phase, 1965-1967: Coming to the Surface The Establishment of the PLO Violent Mobilization in Practice

Regional Responses CHAPTER

16

35 38) ai 3y)

5

The Third Institutional Phase, 1967-1968: Violent Mobilization in Action The June 1967 War Modes of Action The First Stage: Struggle in the Territories The Second Stage: A Stronghold in Jordan

44 44 45 47 51]

CHAPTER

6

The Fourth Institutional Phase, 1968-1970: Regulative Challenges, Political Opportunities The Battle of Karamah and Regulative Reorganization Taking Over the PLO Losing the Jordanian Sanctuary CHAPTER

54 54 Sy] 3,

7

The Fifth Institutional Phase, 1971-1973: Reconstruction Regulative Mobilization, Political Gains Black September and Institutional Regression

64 65 68

Normative Compulsion

71

Politics of Violent Mobilization The October 1973 War

72 76

CHAPTER

8

The Sixth Institutional Phase, 1974-1982: Violent Lead, Political Backup Institutional Pragmatism Entrenchment in Lebanon Political Backup Further Entrenchment The War of June-September 1982 CHAPTER

79 85 91 ot 101

9

The Seventh Institutional Phase, 1983-1987: Time Out Political Maneuvers, Violent Backup Back to the Territories CHAPTER

79

104 105 110

10

The Eighth Institutional Phase, 1988-1993: Political Lead, Violent Backup Politics of Violent Mobilization Sidelining “the Inside” — I Institutional Regression Sidelining “the Inside” — II

115 HS 120 127 130

Epilogue: New Setting, Old Dilemmas

135

The Post-Oslo Years The PA’s Institutional Regression Politics of Violent Mobilization The Challenge of Disengagement

135 137 143 147

Conclusion

152

Notes

157

Bibliography Index

208 218 vi

Preface

The concepts that underlie this book aim directly at what is perhaps the most important question in the field of organized popular struggles, that is, how men rebel. This question refers to the institutionalization process of both organizations and movements of popular struggle, as well as the oscillation of popular struggles between the violent and non-violent modes of action. In any organized popular struggle, changes in operational emphasis reflect a dynamic process of institutionalization that is crucially influenced by situational developments. Hence it appears that whether an organization is categorized as a violent organization, i.e., “terrorist organization,” or as a nonviolent organization, i.e., “social movement,” is actually a function of the particular institutional phase that we choose to examine. The applicability of the conceptual construct of organizational institutionalization to the analysis of organized popular struggles is illustrated by the evolution of the Palestinian Fatah. This book covers Fatah and its institutional phases from its inception in 1959, to the climatic accomplishment ofthe 1993 Oslo accords, followed by the institutional regression that occurred with the uprising in the Israeli-occupied territories that erupted in 2000. Drawing from the extensive literature on the post-1948 Palestinian national movement

as well as historical records, policy statements, and

documents, the analysis presented here offers an account of Fatah’s phased course of institutionalization. : The institutional phases are defined according to the governing base of legitimacy —intra-organizational, communal, or international — which is manifested in structural characteristics and related modes of action. Institutional transformations, that is,

modifications in organizational structure and shifts in the balance among modes of action, are interpreted as the organization’s responses to institutional challenges that were induced by dramatic situational developments. Threats to institutional interests and goals are assessed in terms of apparent conflicts between situational requirements and already attained sources of legitimacy. To besure, the terms “institutionalization” and “institutions” have been used extensively in studies of the development and life cycle of popular forces. In recent years, these concepts have also been increasingly brought to bear in studies of Fatah and other Palestinian organizations, in light of their growing prominence within the broad context of the social sciences. Such studies, for the most part, focus on “institutions” as components of a functional infrastructure, and on “institutionalization” as the end result of a process. Indeed, many analytical works actually illustrate a full process of institutional

transformation.

However,

within their frameworks,

“institutionaliza-

tion” is primarily depicted as a self-evident organizational goal, and the underlying vii

logic of the process has not been profoundly explored. Furthermore, the directions and qualifications of institutional transformation have not been explained by the systematic association between sources of legitimacy, modes of operation, and situational circumstances, which is the more important determinant of institutionalization. The analysis presented in this book is not intended to constitute a fully detailed, compehensive account of the Fatah-led Palestinian national movement and its road to communal and international legitimacy. Nor is it meant to exemplify an assured evolutionary course for organized popular struggles. Rather, using Fatah as a representative case of an organized popular struggle, the analysis aims to put forward institutional determinants and logic that should be taken into account in examining other organized popular struggles. Clearly, organized popular struggles give rise to policy challenges, but the discussion does not purport to suggest any explicit or implicit policy recommendations. Instead, it is designed to contribute to our understanding of the dynamics underlying organized popular struggles and in turn inspire further policy evaluation by state administrations. I am grateful to Prof. Samuel Bacharach for sharing with me his invaluable knowledge and insights and for guiding me through the vast literature on organizational analysis. Without his tireless commitment, it would have been impossible for me to launch the project and see it through to its completion. I am deeply thankful to Prof. Abraham Ben-Zvi for his unfailing support and good advice. Thanks are also due to Prof. Gideon Doron for his enthusiastic response to the idea underlying this project and for his guidance. I was fortunate to have the support of the Jaffee Center for Strategic Studies, Tel Aviv University, for the duration of the writing process. I would like to acknowledge in particular Prof. Shai Feldman, former head of JCSS, for his interest in and encouragement of the project. JCSS offered a nurturing and stimulating environment, which enormously facilitated the writing process. Special thanks to Dr. Judith Rosen for her invaluable editorial contribution, which helped bring this manuscript to its final form, and to Moshe Grundman, director of publications at JCSS, for considerably facilitating this book’s editorial and publication process. I owe a debt of gratitude to many colleagues. Dr. Ariel Levite deserves much credit for his sound advice and unflagging encouragement. The analysis contained in this book benefited from my discussions with Dr. Emily Landau, who sharpened my thinking on many conceptual theories. I also acknowledge the following scholars, who willingly offered feedback and assistance in a variety of ways: Prof. Nehemia Friedland, Dr. Mark Heller, Yoel Kozak, Daniel Levine, Dr. Gal Levy, Prof. Zeev

Maoz, Prof. Yezid Sayigh, Prof. Yossi Shain, Dr. Zvi Shtauber, Ori Slonim, Dr. Nachman Tal, and Ehud Yaari. My sincere thanks to all of them. Finally, I wish to thank Michal Meir and Vered Tandler-Dayan for their relentless

moral support, and to thank my father, Simcha Nir, my husband, Amos. and my daughters, Hila and Aya, for being there for me along the way.

Anat N. Kurz March 2005

viii

Abbreviations

ADF ALF ANC ANM BSO @EPRR: DFLP DoP EEC EU

Arab Deterrent Force Arab Liberation Front African National Congress (South Africa) Arab Nationalist Movement Black September Organization Central Committee of the Palestinian Resistance Democratic Front for the Liberation of Palestine Declaration of Principles European Economic Community European Union

Fatah

also Fateh, or Fath, is the reverse acronym of Harakat al-Tahrir al-Watani

FLN FRC IDF INF IRA 1 06g LNM PA PASC PEP PEEP PFLP-GC PLA PEG PLF PLO PNA PNC PNF PNSF PPSF PSF ROG SLA

al-Filastini — Palestinian National Liberation Organization National Liberation Front (Algeria) Fatah Revolutionary Council (Abu Nidal’s organization) Israel Defense Forces Iranian National Front Irish Republican Army Jordanian Communist Party Lebanese National Movement Palestinian Authority Palestine Armed Struggle Command Palestinian Communist Party Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine - General Command Palestine Liberation Army Palestinian Legislative Council Palestine Liberation Front Palestine Liberation Organization Palestinian National Authority Palestine National Council Palestinian National Front Palestinian National Salvation Front Palestinian Popular Struggle Front Palestinian Salvation Front Revolutionary Command Council (Egypt) South Lebanon Army

Abbreviations

UAC Unified UAR United UCPR Unified UNC Unified UNIFIL United UNRWA _ United UNSCR United

Arab Command Arab Republic (the union of Egypt and Syria, 1958-1961) Command of the Palestinian Resistance National Command of the Uprising Nations Interim Force in Lebanon Nations Relief Works Agency Nations Security Council Resolution

Fatah and the Politics of Violence The Institutionalization of a Popular Struggle

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Introduction

Considerable similarity exists between the manner in which Fatah came to be involved in the Palestinian popular uprising that broke out in late 1987 in the Israeli-occupied territories and its leading role in the al-Aqsa intifada that erupted in September 2000. In both cases the intifada was triggered by a specific incident, setting ablaze the occupied territories, which were in any case rife with tension. In both cases organizations affiliated with Fatah rapidly gained control over the popular unrest and directed the ensuing riots. Yet despite these similarities, there exists a significant disparity between the two cases. In the year 2000 Fatah’s institutional status was quite different from its status in the late 1980s. With the outbreak of the first intifada, Fatah — the most prominent of the groups comprising the Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO) — stood at the helm of what was essentially a popular struggle. Notwithstanding the popular and political support accorded to the Fatah-led PLO, Fatah itself had not achieved the necessary recognition to establish it as a partner in the political process that would influence the future course of the Palestinian national movement as a whole. Fatah therefore capitalized on its long-declared modus operandi of violent struggle, aimed at compelling regional and global actors to take into consideration its self-appointed role as representative of the Palestinian people and address its demands. On the other hand, by 2000 Fatah led the internationally recognized Palestinian National Authority (PNA, more commonly known as the PA, the Palestinian Authority), the government of the Palestinian state-in-formation. This status had turned it into a central partner in an established political process. The establishment of the PA in 1994 was anchored on the legal and international authority of the Oslo accords. These agreements, which confirmed the broad international recognition of the Fatah-led PLO as the principal representative of the Palestinian people, reflected a quantum leap in the process of institutionalization of the Palestinian popular struggle. Important milestones that preceded this development include the founding of Fatah in 1959, its subsequent emergence as the leading Palestinian organization, and the formalization of Fatah’s primacy in 1969, when it assumed the leadership of the PLO. These and other historical developments along Fatah’s process of institutionalization were substantiated by three complementary bases of legitimacy. The first base was the inherent organizational core, which defined the organization and lent it its autonomy. The second was the organization’s base of popular support, which formed the popular context for the organization. These two bases supported the consolidation of the third base, the international recognition of the PLO, headed by Fatah, as the sole representative of the Palestinian people. Each base of legitimacy in turn was associated with respective structural and operational features.

Fatah was the first Palestinian organization to call for a direct confrontation against Israel. While it did so within the context of an all-Arab front, the organization specifically stressed the particularist Palestinian cause. Similar to other organizations of popular struggle, Fatah formed itself on the pattern of an organizational core with clearly defined boundaries. Yet at no time was this core ever monolithic, made up as it was of various apparatuses and sub-groups. Its unifying determinant lay in the aim to preserve the organization and entrench its political status in surroundings that had long been hostile both to its goals and to its very existence. This hostility was manifested by attempts to shape the political goals and operational limits of the organization, and in more extreme cases, by efforts to control or even destroy it. To survive and grow within this complex and hostile environment, Fatah embraced a strategy of violent action. In its early years, before it had acquired external legitimacy, this was the only way that Fatah could find its place on the regional agenda: the practice of violence was designed to provoke Israeli counteraction and to drag Arab states into a confrontation with Israel. The violent struggle was also a primary means to mobilize popular support — Arab in general and Palestinian in particular — expected to translate into pressure on Arab governments to embark on the war to liberate Palestine. Popular support was further intended to reinforce Fatah’s position among other Palestinian organizations active in advancing their own status in a similar manner. The violent struggle did in fact place the Palestinian issue on the regional agenda. It also made a decisive contribution to the institutionalization of the Fatah-led PLO as the representative of the Palestinian people. This development reflected growing support for the Palestinian organizations in general, and for Fatah — the largest and strongest of them all — in particular. The popular support and organizational growth that followed brought about substantial changes in Fatah’s course of action. Throughout the years, the primary organizational structure, initially for implementing a strategy of violence only, expanded to include apparatuses dealing with social and civil affairs, whose job was to attend to the daily needs of the organizatio n’s popular base. This organizational complexity evolved in the late 1960s against the backdrop of the power struggle between Palestinian organizations, particularl y Fatah, and the Jordanian monarchy. Following the expulsion of Palestinian organizations from Jordan in 1970, this process was accelerated and enhanced in Lebanon, reaching its peak on the eve of the Israel Defense Forces (IDF) invasion in 1982. A gradual and relatively belated process of institutionalization of the Fatah leadership in the territories under Israeli rule took place at the same time. While popular support was ostensibly aimed at forming an infrastructure for the perpetuation and expansion of the violent struggle, in practice the popular base was managed by suborganizations and apparatuses that, judging by their agendas and functions, were far removed from active involvement in the violent struggle. Hence, Fatah progressively institutionalized as an organization based on firm social foundations , as the leader of a popular movement. Concurrently, the PLO garnered growing international recogni tion. This recognition, though by and large reserved and conditional, effected the organization’s political institutionalization, coupling it with acceptance by state-level actors as an influential and legitimate actor on the regional scene. By the end of the 1960s, Fatah was supported by several Arab states and Eastern-bloc governments, some of which

2

Introduction

|

even accorded it material aid. In 1974 the PLO, dominated by Fatah, was officially

recognized by the Arab summit conference as the sole representative of the Palestinian people. That year it was also recognized by the United Nations and invited to participate in UN forums dealing with issues concerning the Middle East conflict. International recognition was used first and foremost to exert pressure on Israel. However, the institutionalization process could not actually advance beyond a certain point without American and Israeli recognition of the PLO. Until the early 1990s, Israeli interests and the objectives of the Palestinian national movement were considered mutually exclusive by both sides. Israel’s failure to recognize the PLO, in addition to the delay in official US recognition, prevented Fatah in particular and the PLO as a whole from exercising any direct influence on attempts to promote a settlement of the Arab-Israeli conflict. Moves aimed at resolving the regional conflict — mainly the peace treaty between Israel and Egypt, which included an agreement on a settlement for the Palestinian problem — challenged the PLO’s political status, threatening to erode its popular support. This threat became more tangible in late 1987, with the eruption of the intifada in the territories. The PLO did not initiate the riots. Indeed, the riots broke out no less in protest against the political stagnation of the PLO leadership than in protest of the occupation itself. To preserve its status, Fatah hastened to seize control ofthe uprising, assisted by the network of popular apparatuses established in the territories over the years, particularly since its expulsion from Lebanon. Within a year the PLO was forced to deal with a further challenge — pressure from inside the territories to use the uprising as a basis for a political process towards a settlement. To convert the impact of the intifada into political gains, the PLO made quasi-existential concessions, namely, denouncing terrorism and recognizing the UN partition plan of historic Palestine. These acts were tantamount to abandoning the organization’s traditional strategic aim and the struggle it had undertaken for decades to achieve it. This move, made in late 1988, earned the PLO recognition by the US. Concurrently, and resulting from its direct experience of the uprising in the territories, Israel’s stand became more flexible. A window of opportunity opened for dialogue, enabling a process that culminated in the Oslo accords signed by Israel and the PLO. Elections to the PA held in the territories placed Fatah in the lead, thereby according it the status of official partner in a political process vis-a-vis Israel. What motivated Fatah in late 2000 to return to its former role as the leader of a violent popular struggle, when doing so meant risking the regression, if not the downfall, of the organization’s process of political institutionalization? In other words, why did Fatah leaders — who at that time were already at the helm of a near-state that had won significant international recognition — engage in a violent, head-on struggle against Israel, knowing that this would jeopardize the political achievements attained through the Oslo accords? This question is intrinsically linked to the set of strategic and tactical shifts that marked Fatah’s evolution. The organization’s history is illustrated in this book as a process punctuated by recurring transitions between phases in which the violent struggle formed its main course of action, and other phases, in which operational and structural emphasis was placed on political, non-violent mobilization. The chapters below offer systematic explanations of the structural, strategic, and tactical shifts that

3

Introduction

spearheaded Fatah’s evolution, as an illustration of the general inclination of organized popular struggles to transform in the course of their life. From an institutional perspective, organizations of popular struggle — whether they emphasize violent struggle or non-violent, accommodating action — are social structures of shared identity and interests that strive to legitimize their immediate and strategic goals as well as their self-appointed positions as leaders of collective action. In other words, organizations of popular struggle, notwithstanding differences pertaining to ideological platforms, structural features, and operational preferences,

seek to institutionalize. Specifically, they endeavor to attain intra-organizational cohesion, communal standing, and external recognition, considered in this context to be

principal and complementary components of institutionalization. The study that follows rests on the premise that Fatah is a representative case of organizational institutionalization, and as such, the work aims to broaden the scope of institutional analysis to include the particular sphere of organized popular struggles. Institutional goals and what organizations do to promote them are critically shaped by situational circumstances. Thus, modes of organizing and related operational choices reflect previously accomplished institutional achievements as well as additional ones that the organizations aspire to in each environmental context. Certainly the environment plays a major role in determining organizational continuity and change. Modes of organizing and courses of action are therefore interpreted as reflections of situational constraints, opportunities, and threats that interface with intra-organizational dynamics. The frequently observed shifts in operational emphasis and structural configuration that mark organizations’ courses of institutionalization are crucially stimulated by environmental dynamics and decisive situational shifts. Fatah’s institutional accomplishments proved to be rather impressive. Fatah’s struggle for institutionalization focused on persistent efforts to turn communal and intra-organizational legitimacy into political gains and political gains into communal ascendance and intra-organizational cohesion. Or in more concrete terms, Fatah strove to be recognized — by the Palestinian people, by other Palestinian organizati ons, and by regional and international governmental and non-governmental forces — as the sole representative of the Palestinian cause. And, indeed, within a few years following its inception, it came to be recognized both among Palestinians and among outside observers as the embodiment of Palestinian national desires. In fact, the story of Fatah’s institutionalization appears to parallel the organizational, national, and international institutionalization of the Palestinian cause generally. In this sense, notwithstanding periodic regressions and setbacks, Fatah’s evolution was a noteworthy institutional achievement. However, this is not necessarily the outcome in every instance of organized popular struggle. Rather, using Fatah as an illustrative case, the analysis demonstrates the role of situational shifts in stimulating the frequently observed transfor mations in operational emphasis and modes of organization that characterize organiza tions’ courses of institutionalization. This includes not only the inclination towards political action and accommodation. Sometimes organizations resume violent action followin g a phase in which operational emphasis was placed on political action. However, any change in operational emphasis that may be conducted by the organization should be seen as an attempt to maintain its institutional development in the face of threats emanating from situational shifts, and particularly those evolving external threats. Fatah’s return to

4

Introduction

violent struggle in 2000 was a response to such threats and a drive, though of highly questionable success, to sustain its institutional interests in the face of changing situational circumstances.

The Institutional Analysis of Popular Struggles

How we perceive the organizational dimension of popular struggles largely depends on how we view political struggles in general. Social scientists who have considered popular struggles to be a manifestation of social breakdown have placed an emphasis on their violent and ostensibly deviant aspects. If political struggles were conceptualized as primarily the escalation of an ongoing structurally-based social conflict and thus as a manifestation of “normal” political exchange, there was a likely emphasis on their mobilizing and organizational aspects.! This dichotomy has dictated the tendency to study violent and non-violent organizations of popular struggle from different perspectives, with the use or non-use of violence as a distinguishing criterion between the two principal modes of organizing. Thus, organizations that place emphasis on violent action — known as “terrorist,” “guerilla,” or “insurgent” organizations — have usually been studied separately from organizations that place operational emphasis on

non-violent action, better known as “social movements.”

Furthermore, studies of organizations that lead popular struggles for the most part have focused on trying to understand why social rebellions take place. Much less attention has been directed to how people rebel, that is, the organizational mechanisms needed and employed for organizational evolution and survival. In addition, the literature on organized popular struggles, however extensive and articulate, does not provide systematic explanations of the frequently observed tendency of such struggles to oscillate between the two principal organizational structures of organizations and movements, and to shift their operational emphasis between violent and non-violent action. “Organizations” and “movements” of popular struggle, however, are not entirely distinguished entities. Rather, both forms of popular struggle are structure s of collective identities, interests, and goals that feature characteristic courses of action as they

endeavor to mobilize support for their bid for influence. In essence, these determinants pertain to the manner in which groups coordinate actions and balance structural and operational emphases so as to attain and exploit intra-organizational, communal, and political legitimacy. This comprises a process of institutionalization, which charts shifting emphases in structure and modes of action in the popular struggle. Thus,

6

The Institutional Analysis of Popular Struggles

af

organizations and movements of popular struggle are a particular sphere of organizational institutionalization, taking place in the context of social and political conflicts and led by popular, non-state forces. Therefore, it is within the realm of a process of institutionalization that how they struggle for legitimacy and influence is expected to unfold.

Institutionalization and Legitimization Organizations in general are extremely diverse and composite phenomena, as are the definitions and conceptualizations applied to them.? Their dynamic nature and inherent inclination to evolve have evoked analytical interest in the causes of organizational change and its manifestations, and along with these, in the form of organizing. Studies of organizational evolution have focused on intra-organizational factors and situational determinants, emphasizing the influence of exogenous environmental stimuli on organizational change. Furthermore, evolutionary change has been seen as pervasive and conspicuous in all dimensions of organizational existence. These diverse dimensions include the structure of organizations, their internal political dynamics, the organizational contingency upon external factors, processes, and settings, and policy choices, both at the strategic and the tactical levels. The policy choices themselves have been conceived as organizational means of coping with shifting challenges, constraints, and opportunities of internal as well as external origin.* As organizational complexity tends to increase over time, and because sub-units often tend to develop contrasting agendas, intra-organizational conflict appears to be intrinsic and even inevitable. This implies that strategic and operational choices that deviate from ideological imperatives or perceived situational requirements may result from intra-organizational exchange and in fact address issues other than declared objectives. Thus, organizational life and organizational evolution, change, and action are in effect dominated by political action.* A fundamental determinant of intraorganizational politics is that none of the sub-groups can direct the policies of the organization alone. Rather, articulated strategic decisions reflect the inter-group power relations.> The negotiated strategic choice guides the organization’s actions by enhancing certain operational courses, and by defining what at the moment may be deemed an “acceptable” course of action.® An acceptable course of action, in turn,

need not be evaluated according to intra-organizational pressures and dynamics alone. Rather, it may well be positioned outward and correspond to constraints and demands of external origin, with strong intra-organizational subjection to the external circumstances. Within the context of institutionalist-oriented discussions, the organization-environment exchange is deemed a focal determinant of organizational life. From this perspective, political actors in general and formally organized institutions in particular reflect symbols and myths drawn from their surroundings and are driven to incorporate the practices and concepts prevalent in society.’ Adaptation tends to increase organizations’ legitimacy and their tangible prospects for survival within a greater environment. The major elements of this perspective on organizational institutionalization are the interdependence of the environment and organizations; organizations’ drive to mobilize external legitimacy and thus to become institutionalized within their

7

The Institutional Analysis of Popular Struggles relevant environment; and the dynamic nature of organizational evolution. In essence,

transformations observed in the course of an organization’s life tend to be manifested in structural and strategic dimensions, as well as in relationships with environmental elements.® Indeed, change is a key concept in understanding organizational institutionalization. However, discussions on organizational institutionalization have implied a clear

directionality in organizations’ ongoing efforts at enhanced legitimacy. Accordingly, organizations would feature similar characteristics in their initial and advanced phases of evolution, and evolutionary features involve both the direction and substance of the

process.’ In these determinist terms, organizational institutionalization can be expected to follow a pre-ordained route — unless, of course, the evolution is interrupted by external forces or by the organization’s failure to adapt to evolving constraints and pressures — and eventually culminate in a phase of adaptive maturity. Notwithstanding this widely-accepted premise, organizations may not experience the same transitory phases in the course of their institutionalization. Is it not possible that different organizations seek to institutionalize in different ways? Might institutionalization, while an appropriate illustration of general organizational inclination, not necessarily mean that each organization undergoes the same determinist and hierarchical evolutionary phases? An answer to these questions can be articulated in terms of two conceptualizations of organizational institutionalization: the classification of organizations according to bases of legitimacy and a particular theory of organizational transformation. The integration of institutional meaning and process into one conceptual framework offers a framework for discerning similarities and differences among organizations’ courses of institutionalization and for portraying organizations’ oscillating emphases among bases of legitimacy and their associated modes of action. W. Richard Scott divided the concept of “organizational legitimacy” into three related but different bases resting on different components underlying institutional logic. According to Scott, institutional entities incorporate cognitive constructions, normative rules, and regulative processes and are grouped together under the heading “pillars of institutions,” which depict conditions “reflecting cultural alignment, normative support, or consonance with relevant rules of law.” Each pillar — the regulative, the cognitive, and the normative — is considered to provide an individual base for legitimacy.'” The regulative pillar of institutions operates through informal or formal and coercive mechanisms, and is considered to establish regulations of organizational action. Its logic is instrumental, that is, related to declared and ideological ly dictated objectives, and embodied in rules and laws. The normative pillar of institutions refers, as the term implies, to values and norms; it defines goals and also designates appropriate ways to pursue them. The cognitive pillar of institutions stresses the importance of social identities and isomorphism, and, in contrast to the focus on the constraining force of norms, provides guidelines for choosing meaningful action. These three institutional pillars presumably coexist in all organizations and operate in a complementary manner. Therefore, theoretical varieties across as well as within competing disciplines undoubtedly reflect different analytical emphases on elements of institutional pillars.'! The index of institutional pillars should also delineate genuine differences among organizations and their modes of organizing. The model of organizational institutionalization articulated by Samuel Bacharach illustrates the composite association between three hierarchical levels and three types

8

The Institutional Analysis of Popular Struggles

of organizational exchange: the technical, managerial, and institutional levels, and logics of action that prompt alignment, misalignment, and realignment.'* This model is based on the premise that organizations are oriented toward a state of stability that cannot be achieved unless the different levels of organizational exchange are aligned. Thus, when the logic of action of one organizational level shifts, it necessarily becomes inconsistent with the logic of action of the other parties to the organizational exchange. The result is misalignment of ends and means, reflected in organizational instability, which in turn generates an attempt to resolve the imbalance. This can be achieved by either the articulation of a new logic for the exchange, or by a realignment of ends and means. The misalignment and consequent realignment of the logic of action at the diverse organizational levels results in a shift in the logic underlying the organization’s action. This process of consolidation and alternation of organizational logic appears to be significantly, if not crucially, determined by environmental inputs. In fact, the organization’s environment is perceived as being at the core of organizational shifts, since it introduces challenges to the accepted logic of action, rendering it irrelevant or inadequate for advancing institutional interests. Quite often, the environmental shifts directly influence the logic of action of one sub-group, and generate changes within this confined framework. Consequently, the inter-group balance tends to destabilize. The resulting misalignment of the organizational logic of action initiates a search for a refined logic, that is, realignment of the exchange relationships among the sub-groups on the basis of new terms. Notwithstanding their respective emphases on substance and process, and while differing on the essence of organizational transformation, the categorizations posited by Scott and Bacharach are not incompatible and can in fact be integrated into one framework of regulative, normative, and political pillars of institutionalization.'? The technical level of the organization is the one involved in tactical, daily action through intra-organizational instrumental logic and rules. This logic of action suggests a regulative base of legitimacy. The managerial level of the organization is the one that serves the technical level’s operations. It is supported by logic of appropriateness and values associated with the organization’s communal surroundings. This logic of action suggests a normative base of legitimacy. The institutional level of the organization links the organization to its broader environment. This suggests exchange with the environment, namely, a political base of legitimacy." Utilizing the conception of organizational transformation, an analytical framework of substance and process can be formulated in which institutionalization is depicted in terms of legitimization, and institutional transformation is depicted as a shifting of balance among the bases of legitimacy. Specifically, institutional transformations are organizational responses to circumstantial shifts of external origin that shake the underlying logic of the organization and stimulate revision of means, if not of both ends and means, in other words, the mode of legitimization. Finally, intraorganizational relations comprise the sphere within which, in response to external stimulants, mechanisms of change take place, bringing about notable modification in the relative prominence of the bases of legitimacy. The categorization of bases of legitimacy need not be regarded as a hierarchy of institutional levels. In hierarchical terms, an organization that is governed by regulative legitimacy might appear to be institutionally inferior to an organization governed

9

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The Institutional Analysis of Popular Struggles

by normative legitimacy. Both of these, in turn, might appear to be inferior to an organization that enjoys external recognition. However, rather than discussing organizational evolution in determinist hierarchical terms, we can conceive the evolution in terms of non-linear transformation. This means that facing environmental challenges, organizations will endeavor to secure their institutionalization enterprise by shifting emphasis from one prevailing base of legitimacy to another, less vulnerable base of legitimacy. In this view, organizations can transform from regulative to normative frameworks, or follow the opposite direction and transform from normative to regulative frameworks. As such, the response to evolving external challenges by organizations primarily based on regulative legitimacy can be expected to assume a search for a normative legitimacy. Likewise, the response to evolving external challenges by organizations primarily based on normative legitimacy can be expected to assume a search for regulative legitimacy. Political support may be sought at any institutional phase, whether it is governed by normative or regulative legitimacy, as a means to counterbalance external or internal pressures. This dynamic of transformation should not imply that while transforming, organizations necessarily or completely substitute one pillar of legitimacy for another. Rather, it means that bases of legitimacy are essentially complementary and the relative emphasis on them reflects situational inducements and perceived institutional requirements. In this sense, an initial legitimacy base, which served as a specific end at a particular institutional phase, may become a means for mobilizing a complementary one. Thus, regulative, normative, and political bases of legitimacy are both the functions and the determinants of an evolving, sustainable institutionalization process. The following discussion aims at applying these determinants of organizational institutionalization and institutional transformations to the sphere of organized popular struggles. More specifically, it is designed to understand the courses that organizations and movements of popular struggle experience as different institutional phases marked by a typical balance among the diverse bases of legitimacy . Moreover, it examines organizational transformation — specially the oscillation between these primary modes of organizing — in terms of changing the balance among the different bases of legitimacy in response to shifting circumstantial requirements.

Organizations and Movements: An Institutional Distinction These parameters of institutional analysis suggest a framework for the analysis of organized popular struggles, focusing on bases of legitimacy, associated modes of mobilization, and principles of institutional transformations. To this end, this framework posits three bases of legitimacy: the regulative base, which comprises the organizational core; the normative base, which highlights flexible boundaries of the community whose struggle the organization is designe d to advance and in effect comprises the movement; and the political base, namely, external recognition for the struggle that the organization is able to elicit from its near and extended environment. Using this framework, it is apparent that organizations and movements are not disparate organizational entities, notwithstanding their distinct, structural features, but instead represent intertwined, institutional phases of organized popular struggles.

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The Institutional Analysis of Popular Struggles Organizations of popular struggle that pursue exclusive goals and feature comparatively structured and clearly defined boundaries have commonly been associated with terrorist organizations. The term “terrorist organization” denotes organizations that use terrorism, that is, non-state, popular organizations that challenge the balance of popular power in their environment and use violence, among other means, to gather

relevance and political influence. This definition applies to organizations of popular struggle that emphasize violence, whether they strive to advance national or social goals, or a blend of both social and national objectives; whether they fight under the banner of leftist or rightist ideologies; or whether they confine their fight to their domestic arena or traverse international boundaries. As such, the term for these organizations reflects their operational emphasis on violent struggle as a primary means for resource mobilization. No less important, such nomenclature reflects the focus of external observers — especially scholars and politicians — on the violent action as a focal determinant of the organizations themselves. The mobilization practices of such organizations are fairly structured, concentrating on the recruitment of committed membership. Coordination of the struggle itself is conducted according to defined rules, generally associated with an emphasis on physical violence. In fact, terrorist organizations can be classified as “closed systems,” or frameworks of collective action

primarily based on the regulative pillar of institutionalization. Organizations of popular struggle that pursue “inclusive” goals and feature rather loose boundaries have commonly been classified as social movements. In a broad sense, social movements have been conceived of as challenging groups that lead sustained interactions with the state, constitute potential rivals to the political representation system, and play a major role in restructuring the relationship between the state and civil society. Such groups of challengers have usually been identified by their drive to change only specific aspects of the status quo. The struggle has thus been widely referred to as “protest.”!> In fact, social movements have also been termed “social movement organizations.”!® Membership in such organizations is generally less committed than membership in terrorist organizations and is widely assessed in terms of participation. Actions focus primarily on non-violent social and political practices, and social movements can be classified as “natural systems,” or frameworks of collective action dominated by the normative pillar of institutionalization. This conceptualization forms the basis for a series of premises pertaining to two interrelated and complementary organizational determinants: first, the inclination of organized popular struggle to retain distinct organizational and operative attributes over time; second, the process of organized popular struggles to undergo transformations of organizational and operative features throughout their lives. Many courses of action are common to both organizations and movements of popular struggle. Quite often, organizations are involved in non-violent activities, while movements of popular struggle engage in physical violence, in addition to their traditional non-violent modes of action. There are numerous instances that corroborate this argument: the involvement of Fatah and other Palestinian organizations in educational and social work during the times in which violence was the core of its strategy, or the concentration of the Irish Republican Army (IRA) on such activities throughout its violent years, long before it embarked on the political path towards a settlement of the conflict over Ulster. Opposite examples include violent clashes that frequently erupt in the course of demonstrations staged by popular movements 11

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The Institutional Analysis of Popular Struggles

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(notwithstanding the active role that may be played by state security forces in escalating such confrontations). Organizations such as the Palestinian Hamas or the Lebanese Hizbollah seem to “play both ends against the middle,” emphasizing physical violence in one sphere, while political and social work constitutes the focus of their actions in another sphere. At the same time, courses of action appear to be typically linked with particular bases of legitimacy, and therefore differences pertaining to institutional pillars can be expected to be associated with emphasized modes of mobilization. Relating bases of legitimacy to particular modes of organizing and modes of action suggests that normatively-based organizations would emphasize the non-violent course of action, while organizations based on regulative legitimacy would be associated with emphasis on the confrontational, physical violence. The regulative base of legitimacy corresponds to the operative characteristics of the instrumental, ideologically-oriented phase of organizations.'’ This phase has by and large been perceived as being primarily manifested through an emphasis on expressive action, agitation, aggression, and expansive strategy of environmental dominance. Notably, aggressive and/or agitating behavior on the part of non-political organizations

(for example,

bureaucracies,

administrations,

commercial

firms,

and unions) does not usually involve physical manifestations. Within the context of political contention, however, physical violence constitutes a common and even structurally embedded mode of mobilization. The association between the regulative institutional pillar and aggressive conduct suggests that organized popular struggles governed by regulative legitimacy can be expected to stress confrontational courses of action. Since physical violence is spectacular and politically challenging, it attracts much attention. Therefore this course of action is depicted as compensation for the lack of normative legitimacy in the form of communal popular support.'* Indeed, organized violence intended for changing the social and political balance of power tends to overshadow any non-violent actions by the perpetrating organization. Consequen tly, violence comes to dominate public perceptions vis-a-vis those organizations that embrace it. The act of applying the label “terrorist organization” — instead of, for example, “revolutionary organization” — reflects this bias. Moreover, the differentiation between “terrorist organizations” and “social movements” according to emphasized modes of action carries with it political significance. By labeling an organization terrorist, established regimes tend to legitimize, and hence facilitate, counteractions, whereas the same measures, if practiced against a social movement would more likely be perceived as overreactions, and criticized accordingl y both at home and abroad. The normative basis of legitimacy corresponds to growing bureaucracy and complexity, along with the consolidation of survival interests of sub-groups. Consequently, ideology tends to become more latent and a Strategy of adaptation prevails. Bringing these associations to the sphere of organiz ed popular struggles suggests that organizations based on normative legitimacy can be expected to pursue a political, non-violent course of mobilization, as with most social movements. Furthermore, leaders of such movements often conduct extensive efforts to frustrate the inclinations of extremist participants to exercise blatant tactics that are likely to elicit harsh reactions. This does not mean that social movemen ts do not directly chal-

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The Institutional Analysis of Popular Struggles

4

lenge their environment. Indeed, quite often the opposite is true, particularly in the case of broadly based movements.!” A related supposition is that each base of legitimacy forms both an institutional goal in its own right, as well as a means to augment its two complements. For example, organizations governed by regulative legitimacy, with a committed body of members, a strict organizational core, and defined rules of practice, strive to advance exclusive objectives primarily by resorting to violent action. At the same time, violence can also be a primary means for mobilizing normative legitimacy and thus for attaining popular support. In contrast, normative governance, which provides organizations with movement-like characteristics, is primarily associated with an emphasis on non-violent, social enterprises, yet this does not imply that a given movement’s overall strategy is necessarily free of some measure of violence as a means to enhance the normative base as well as a structured,

regulated

core.

Furthermore,

organizations

can

achieve

stability on the basis of emphasized normative legitimacy or on the basis of emphasized regulative legitimacy. However, movements can also be expected to enhance their institutional position by adding a regulative core to their normative basis. Equally compelling appears to be organizations’ drive to supplement their regulative legitimacy with normatively-governed support. In this view, the regulative and normative bases of legitimacy can be seen as mutually supportive. Finally, both of these bases of legitimacy — the regulative and the normative — are designed to enhance external backing in the organization’s bid for recognition and political influence. Similarly, political legitimacy may well augment the organization’s regulative and normative bases. At the same time, a given organization’s quest for institutional accomplishments would presumably remain stable, in terms of structural features and emphasized mode of legitimization, until shifts in its surroundings rendered them in some manner coun-

terproductive. Situational shifts are thus the changing sets of constraints that tend to force organizations to modify both their institutional ends and the means they employ to achieve those ends. In other words, the stability will last only as long as there is no external inducement to change the logic underlying the organization’s structure and related operational emphasis.

Institutional Transformation The logic of organizational transformation is embedded in the nature of the organization and its environmental contingency. Situational shifts of external origin call for organizational adaptation because they tend to change the logic underlying the organization’s relations with its surroundings, thereby frustrating prospects for political legitimization or hindering already achieved normative and regulative gains. The transformation is likely either to reinforce an existing emphasis on a particular base of legitimacy, or realign or even reverse the existing balance between the different bases of legitimacy. Reinforcement of a dominant base of legitimacy is a likely outcome of moderate environmental shifts, while institutional transformation is deemed primarily

as the consequence of dramatic environmental shifts, particularly of developments that threaten the organization’s institutionalization or even its very existence. Dramatic environmental shifts tend to create severe organizational dilemmas. They may destabilize the relationships between the organization and the environment, as 13

The Institutional Analysis of Popular Struggles

well as among the organization’s sub-groups, to a degree that adaptation can be advanced only by the conduct of major transformations in the structural and operational determinants of the organization. Opportunities, however, appear to create different, and in fact less compelling pressures to transform than threats.2° The reason for the presumed differential influence of circumstantial shifts is associated with the nature of the organization-environment relationships. In fact, organizations of popular struggle strive to advance two inherently contradicting goals. On the one hand, they seek to institutionalize in a manner that would ensure their survival and prospects for further expansion. On the other, they strive to generate changes in their environment by destabilizing an existing balance of power and by creating a better position for themselves. In other words, they pursue outcomes that are bound to bring about ramifications they may well be striving to avoid. In that sense, opportunities appear to be less demanding than threats, since the latter may leave a given organization with no option but to undergo a transformation in order to sustain its institutional enterprise. This may explain the frequently observed tendency of organizations to refrain from transforming the existing balance among the legitimacy pillars when faced with apparent opportunities, i.e., promises for a better negotiating position and protection against threats. The absence of transformation and an apparent failure to seize the moment generally reflects a decision to avoid further destabilization. Threats, however, leave organizations no alternative but to try and transform. In the face of threats, organizational rigidity, if an option at all, may even prove existentially disastrous. Therefore, no matter what the prevailing base of legitimacy is, the drive to maintain organizational stability will probably prevail in the face of an opportunity. In the face of a threat, the drive to embark on organizational transformation will probably prevail over the drive to maintain organizational stability. Since institutional stability is a function of an emphasis on a particular base of legitimacy at a given time, institutional transformation should take place within this sphere and be manifested in a change of balance among the different legitimacy bases. Thus, social movements can be expected to develop a structured organizational apparatus when faced with threats emanating from environmental shifts. This means structuring an organizational core of control for the movement. Or, terrorist organizations can be expected to try and broaden their normative pillars of legitimacy, in an effort to entrench in the face of threats. This means structuring a movement-like, normative base of popular support for the organization. Obviously, the changing balance among the bases of legitimacy should involve changing emphases on modes of action. Thus, terrorist organizations will tend to place growing emphasis on non-violent actions, which are likely to render the confrontation with rival forces less dangerous and existentially threatening. Actions of this sort include non-violent propaganda and promotion ofgoals in the form ofpolitical, social, and economic work. Such a strategic shift may well constitute responses to developments that do not target the organization directly but neverthe less threaten to undermine its institutional position and render its normatively-ba sed legitimacy and related modes of action effectively irrelevant. Finally, both regulative and normative bases of legitimacy are also means to mobilize external backing in the organization’s bid for recogni tion and influence. Given the non-linearity of this approach, this means that the mobiliz ation of political recognition could be interpreted as an attempt to compensate for regulative and normative 14

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The Institutional Analysis of Popular Struggles

deficiencies and sustain institutional enterprises at times of waning popular support and/or organizational control. These general premises on institutional transformation are corroborated by patterns of transformation of organized popular struggles. Both terrorist organizations and social movements have become official legal parties, reflecting a heightened focus on political legitimacy. This was, for example, the institutional course of Fatah, the African National Congress (ANC), the IRA, and the Green movement. Institutional transformations have also pursued the opposite direction. Social movements have spawned violent cells, a reaction that testifies to a heightened focus on regulative, confrontational legitimacy at the expense of political legitimacy. The Italian Red Brigades (Brigate Rose), the West German Red Army Faction (Rote Armee Fraktion — the Baader-Meinhof Gang), and the American Weathermen Underground evolved out of the radical fringes of the student movements of the 1960s. Moreover, of those that managed to survive blows dealt by challenged counterparts and then continued to grow, few maintained the structural and operational features that characterized them at their initial stage of existence. Similarly, the inability to adapt organizational features to situational circumstances and requirements has determined the demise of numerous organized popular struggles. The Red Brigades, the Baader-Meinhof Gang, and the Weatherman are examples of organizations where internal resistance to change made them unable to survive in the face of external pressure. Thus, the ability of organized struggles to transform and the nature of their transformations are crucial determinants of organizational endurance. Shifting emphases on legitimacy pillars should by no means imply that a preexisting base of legitimacy will be eliminated in the course of institutional transformation. Instead, such a base of legitimacy may form the groundwork for the metamorphosis into others. Thus, the transformation of a terrorist organization into

a movement through the establishment of a normative institutional base in an organization originally based on regulative legitimacy is likely to be facilitated by an existing structural core. Similarly, the transformation of social movements through the establishment of a regulative institutional base for an originally normatively-based organization is likely to be facilitated by an existing popular base of support. Social movements, which are founded upon normative legitimacy, actually need to add regulative legitimacy to their organizational exchange relationship in order to institutionalize. Likewise, it can be said that insurgent groups -—and this category surely includes what we have called terrorist organizations — need to add a normative base of legitimacy for exactly the same purpose. Combining the two sources of legitimacy is not a crucial condition for political institutionalization, yet it is likely to be advantageous. In this view, organized popular struggles stressing regulative legitimacy and organized struggles stressing normative legitimacy may institutionalize within the boundaries of a certain constituency for a certain period of time. Still, regulative and normative as well as political legitimacy can be expected to provide the organizations greater endurance, and also to promote the ultimate goal of becoming solidly recog-

nized within a given political setting.

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Fatah’s Struggle for Institutionalization

From being refugees, the exiled Palestinians became a political force of estimable significance. ... The narrative sequence of this Palestinian transformation is, I think, misleadingly simple. Al-Fateh began its existence in 1965 with a small raid into Israel. Thereafter the number of militant Palestinian organizations grew as did the set of militarily important clashes with (and inside) Israel. Edward Said, The Question of Palestine!

The following analysis applies the logic of organizational institutionalization to the study of organized popular struggles. Specifically, it offers systematic explanations as to why organized popular struggles undergo strategic and tactical transforma tions, and probes the frequent oscillation between the two principal constructs, organizati ons and movements. In practical terms, the analysis follows the principles of the structured, focused comparison method, which is characterized by a heavy reliance on within-case analysis as a way of evaluating theory-oriented claims.? The broader scope is the sphere of the Palestinian struggle that began in the latter half of the twentieth century. Concrete premises, focusing on situational inducements for organizati onal transformation, form guidelines for the illustration of the evolution of a single case study — the Palestinian Fatah. Without a doubt, the transformation of the Palestinian agenda and the plight of the Palestinian people into a significant political force must be traced back to the foun-

dation of Fatah, for some four decades the leading Palestinian resistance organization.

However, the evolution of the Palestinian national movement did not begin with Fatah’s recourse to the strategy of a violent struggle in the 1960s. Rather, it began in the late 1950s when the amorphous concept of “Palestine first” was translated into a

defined organizational structure. This organization was Fatah. Fatah (Fateh, or Fath,

as the name is sometimes written) is the reverse acronym of the Arabic Harakat alTahrir al-Watani al-Filastini (Palestinian National Liberati on Organization). The word “fatah,” intended to mean “opening” in the sense of military victory,? is the name taken by the organization that over the years would grow into the largest and most influential of the patchwork of organizations that ultimate ly comprised the Palestine Liberation Organization.

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Fatah’s Struggle for Institutionalization

Fatah’s evolution was marked by shifting emphases between the regulative, normative, and political bases of legitimacy and among their respective structural and operational features. With an eye to the larger context of organized popular struggles, Fatah’s phased evolution demonstrates the common inclination of such struggles to transform in the course of their life in response to ominous situational developments that threaten to undermine the organization’s institutional enterprise. The process was not linear, and institutional progress was sometimes followed by a return to a previously emphasized base of legitimacy. Thus at times Fatah retreated to emphasizing the regulative base of legitimacy and the associated violent struggle following a phase where normative and political legitimacy were its focus. In any case, intermittent adaptations occurred on a constant basis, but as a rule, institu-

tional transformations were spurred by dramatic situational shifts. With that it should be noted that not all the developments that were significant in regional terms were equally dramatic for Fatah. In some cases, developments did not challenge the organization’s interests directly, and hence no decisive institutional transformation was stimulated to address their ramifications. In other cases, incipient manifestations of an ensuing regional development constituted, from the organization’s perspective, a situational shift in its own right. The organization adjusted accordingly such that the institutional transformation actually preceded the concretization of the new reality. For several years following its inception in 1959, Fatah rested upon a narrow regulative pillar of its own organizational core. Over the following decades, the organization underwent a fundamental process of change, and became increasingly based upon a broad pillar of normative legitimacy in the form of popular support. The political recognition gradually acquired by Fatah throughout the years, first in the regional sphere and later in the international arena, reinforced its bargaining power in the political framework within which it persistently sought to become institutionalized. Fatah’s first institutional phase (1959-1965) focused on regulative formation and the articulation of strategic guidelines. The organization’s appearance was a delayed and indirect result of the 1956 Sinai Campaign, which represented a major shift in the regional balance of power. The outcome of the war served to demonstrate the limits of Arab military power vis-d-vis Israel, motivating a nucleus of young Palestinians to explore the path of confronting Israel directly, under the banner of Palestinian selfreliance. Contrary to the organization’s professed credo, however, its actual strategy was by no means self-reliant. Mobilizing for violent struggle was a goal in its own right, intended to afford members of the consolidating organization a sense of unity and cause. It was also meant to underscore Fatah’s uniqueness in the sphere of Palestinian-related politics: by popularizing the goal of a direct Palestinian struggle against Israel, the organization was creating a support base for itself. Nonetheless, the violent struggle was primarily seen as a means to exacerbate tensions along Israel’s borders, mobilize militancy among the Arab masses, and ultimately draw Arab governments into a concerted and decisive military move against Israel. In any case, Fatah’s limited resource base, which was typical of such organizations in their embryonic phases, restricted its strategy to the declarative level. Fatah’s transition into its second institutional phase (1965-1967) was manifested

by an attempt to put the confrontational strategy into practice. This was primarily 17

Fatah’s Struggle for Institutionalization due to the creation in 1964 of the PLO, which challenged Fatah’s bid to primacy over the national struggle. Rising to the challenge, Fatah resorted to active, though sporadic, engagement in violent struggle. The violence mobilized normative support, which in turn enhanced organizational growth and incremental changes in the balance between violent and non-violent action. Popular support was initially intended for sustaining feasibility of the violent struggle. In practice, however, it necessitated the creation and development of a variety of sub-organizations and apparatuses in charge of providing administrative and communal services. Fatah’s third institutional phase (1967-1968) was still marked by emphasis on violent mobilization, but also by growing emphasis on communal projects. The move to a dual strategy of this sort was spurred by the major situational shift of the Israeli-Arab war of June 1967 and its territorial consequences. The political aftermath of the war shifted the greater regional focus to the fate of the territories, marking Arab recognition, if not tacit acceptance, that liberation of historic Palestine in its entirety was less likely than ever, thereby dismembering essential Palestinian aspirations. Israel’s occupation of the West Bank and Gaza Strip appeared to present Fatah with an opportunity to lead a popular war in these territories, and thus to enhance its institutional position. However, lackluster response from residents of the newly-occupied territories, along with the Israeli-Palestinian imbalance of power, prevented this strategy from yielding significant results. F ollowing this, Fatah embarked upon establishing a stronghold across the Jordan River, in Palestinianpopulated areas of the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan. Construction of this foothold required that Fatah augment its organizational apparatuses in both violent and nonviolent spheres, in order to boost its abilities in both regulative and normative mobilization. At this stage, however, mobilization of normative legitimacy was still considered merely a means for executing the violent strategy, and therefore subordinate to it. At the same time, however, the escalation brought on by the rising prominence of the violent strategy generated a major situational threat of its own. Cross-border attacks triggered harsh Israeli reactions, which exacted a persistent heavy toll from Fatah. The fourth institutional phase (1968-1970) began in March 1968 with a major encounter between Fatah forces and the Israeli army on Jordanian soil at Karamah. While clearly outmatched by Israeli forces, Fatah was able to transform its military defeat into an institutional opportunity. The very act of facing down Israel’s armed forces was enough to endow the organization with enhanced normative credibility, and overall, the years were marked by a dramatic increase in the size of the organization. Normative and regulative gains translated into massive Palestinia n enrollment

in Fatah’s ranks, which resulted in consolidation and expansion of its regulative core.

Fatah’s regulative and normative accomplishments also brought political gains on the national level. In 1969, Fatah gained control over the PLO, thus formally asserting its primacy among the various Palestinian resistance organizat ions. Moreover, while the organization suffered notable failures on the tactical level and was unable to generate an all-Arab assault against Israel, the violent struggle conferred other benefits, placing the Palestinian issue on the regional agenda and keeping it there. Even more important from the perspective of the organization’s institutionalization, it lent credibility to Fatah’s claim to represent the Palestinian national movement as a whole. That is, Fatah’s takeover of the PLO reflected growing support for the resis-

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Fatah’s Struggle for Institutionalization

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tance organizations in general. From that moment on, the Fatah-led PLO’s institutionalization would proceed on firm social foundations, by and large unquestioned in its status as the leader of a broad popular movement. Concurrently, the PLO garnered external political recognition. Such recognition was still only reserved and conditional, yet it increasingly validated Fatah’s institutionalization as a regional actor. By the end of the 1960s, several Arab states and eastern bloc governments recognized the Fatah-led PLO, and some began providing logistical aid. This institutional phase, however, ended in 1970 with a major situational shift, the expulsion of the resistance’s regulative infrastructure from Jordan. The showdown between the resistance and the Jordanian army resulted from Fatah’s institutional accomplishments, which turned it and the resistance as a whole into a major threat to the stability of the Hashemite regime. At the same time, the showdown followed a series of skirmishes that attested to Fatah’s inter-organizational regulative weakness in its limited ability to control wildcat actions undertaken by other resistance organizations. The fifth institutional phase (1971-1973) focused on institutional reconstruction in the wake of the organization’s expulsion from Jordan. The site that the organization chose for its new geographic center was the Palestinian-populated neighborhoods and refugee camps in Lebanon. This period was marked by continued normative mobilization, and by regulative endeavors intended to secure the organization’s control over the popular movement and the patchwork of organizations that made up the armed resistance. Dwelling upon bitter lessons learned from the events that led to its expulsion from Jordan, Fatah sought to root itself in the rapidly disintegrating Lebanese

setting — a disintegration process that its own entrenchment did much to accelerate — by political and military coordination with other anti-government powers within Lebanon. Notably, this phase was marked by augmented external threats, nourished by the expansion and growth of Fatah-led resistance. In particular, these threats came from three sources: Israel, Syria, and Christian factions in Lebanon. Israel was concerned over the mounting military power of the resistance organizations and their ability to stage attacks within its territory. For its part, Syria was worried about the PLO’s insistence on freedom of action, which implied that it would not succumb easily to Damascus’ will. Finally, factions affiliated with the Christian elite had growing anxieties over both the PLO’s military strength and its insistence on freedom of action. Increasing threats from each of these arenas forced Fatah to organize defensively, to protect Palestinian power and Palestinian lives within Lebanon. Fatah’s sixth institutional phase (1974-1982) was marked by perpetuation of the mutually supportive — though not altogether synergetic — regulative and normative pillars. Continuous emphasis was placed on violent mobilization of popular support and on endeavors to regulate the normatively-based popular movement, and place it under the organization’s control. At the same time, rising prospects of a negotiated settlement to the Arab-Israeli conflict following the war of October 1973 forced Fatah to endorse a new strategic pragmatism; diplomacy was to be explored as a possible means to secure the PLO a role in the emerging regional political process. Even so, violent struggle was not abandoned. Rather, it remained a primary means for normative and regulative mobilization, and for securing what diplomacy could not achieve.

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Fatah’s Struggle for Institutionalization

In 1974, Fatah’s institutional accomplishments reached a new height as the PLO was Officially recognized by Arab governments as the sole representative of the Palestinian national movement. The organization was also invited to participate in UN forums dealing with the conflict in the Middle East. Fatah’s political ventures would from now on become a bone of intra- and particularly inter-organizational contention and a core threat to unity within the PLO’s ranks. Ultimately, the sixth institutional phase came to an abrupt close in the summer of 1982 with Israel’s invasion of Lebanon. The Israeli military drive was aimed at advancing two interrelated goals. Its immediate objective was annihilation of the regulative pillar of the resistance through elimination of administrative and military infrastructures. This objective, however, was also viewed as a step ina longer-term goal —curbing the PLO’s rising political legitimacy in the regional and international spheres and its normative accomplishments in the occupied territories. In this, the loss of the Lebanese stronghold was yet another painful demonstration of how institutional accomplishments could easily boomerang into situational threats. Fatah’s seventh institutional phase (1983-1987) focused on an intense search for a replacement for the organization’s lost stronghold. The search for alternative means to secure its institutional growth led the organization to pursue a variety of possibilities. First, there was the prospect of political coordination with Jordan, but this failed to bear fruit. At the same time, the Fatah-led PLO oversaw a gradual return to Lebanon and a reinstitution of its presence there, though ona smaller and weaker scale than prior to the expulsion. Finally, the organization set its sights once again on the Palestinian population of the West Bank and Gaza Strip. This last enterprise focused on the consolidation of a network of social and political institutions designed to regulate the local, normative-based pillar of support and to secure Fatah’s prominence among the organizations engaged in similar institutional enterprises. It was here that Fatah’s institutional project appeared to reach an impasse. The violent struggle had accorded Fatah broad popular support, and had kept both the Palestinian national cause and the organization itself on regional and global agendas. Growing international recognition of the PLO as the sole representative of the Palestinian national movement was incrementally translated into pressure on Israel to adopt more conciliatory approaches toward the Palestinian issue. Yet by 1987, Fatah seemed to have progressed as far as it could without American and Israeli recognition. Until the early 1990s, mutual Israeli-PLO recognition lay outside the ideological limits of both parties. Nor was the US in any particular hurry to open a channel to the organization. Lack of such political legitimacy prevented the organization from exercising direct and politically acceptable influences on attempts to advance a settlement of the Israeli-Arab conflict. Moves aimed at settling the regional conflict — mainly the peace treaty between Egypt and Israel, which was signed in 1979 and included an agreement on a settlement for the Palestinian problem — challenged the PLO’s political pillar of legitimacy and threatened to erode its normative and regulative pillars of legitimacy. This institutional stagnation was brought to an end in late 1987 by the popular uprising — the intifada — that broke out in the West Bank and Gaza Strip. Significantly, Fatah did not initiate the uprising. Indeed, it broke out no less in protest against the failure of the PLO to advance an end to the occupation than in protest against the Israeli rule over the territories. Consequently, the uprising constituted a major situa20

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Fatah’s Struggle for Institutionalization

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tional shift, which challenged Fatah’s bid to primacy over the struggle. Fatah’s response focused on a decisive realignment of ends and means, which brought its institutional enterprise to an historical climax. In its early stages, Fatah’s eighth institutional phase (1988-1993) focused on efforts to exert control over the intifada. Regulation of the struggle was facilitated by the network of popular apparatuses established in the territories over the years, particularly following the expulsion of the resistance from Lebanon. By the end of the first year of the intifada, the Fatah-led PLO, now based in Tunis, encountered yet another challenge from within the territories — a general decline in the intensity of the uprising and a growing desire among Palestinians in the occupied territories for the struggle to serve as means for advancing an end to the occupation. Renunciation of violence and recognition of the UN partition plan of historic Palestine, which were tantamount to stepping away from the organization’s traditional strategic aims and from decades-old rules of practice, was the institutional response to the challenge. This move, taken in November 1988, enabled the Fatah-led PLO to initiate a dialogue

with the US administration. The following period, however, was marked by institutional regression. The political process had reached an impasse. The uprising continued to lose momentum. Pressure on Fatah from inside the territories to evince more forthcoming stances gave way to criticism for yielding under American pressure in return for unattainable gains. Concurrent endeavors on the part of local figures to translate their normative legitimacy into political recognition constituted yet another challenge facing Fatah. Frustrated with the political impasse, Fatah chose to side with Iraq during the Gulf crisis of 1990-1991. The consequent decline in the PLO’s political status ultimately left Fatah with no choice but to approve participation of a delegation from the territories in negotiations with Israel, which were initiated in the aftermath of the crisis. At the same time, fatigue within Israel over the protracted conflict nourished recognition on the part of the Israeli public and political echelon that a purely military solution to the uprising was not likely to prove forthcoming. A window of opportunity thus opened for dialogue, as the Israeli government conceded to American pressure to accept participation of the delegation from the territories in the peace process. Striving to prevent forces from the territories from gaining primacy over Palestinian politics, Fatah was forced to adjust its strategic preference in favor of diplomacy as the means to advance conciliatory, pragmatic ends. In September 1993 the PLO and the Israeli government concluded the principles of an agreement on interim Palestinian self-governance in the territories — the Oslo accords. The signing of these accords represented a quantum leap in the institutionalization process of the Palestinian national struggle and Fatah in particular. The years since the Oslo accords quickly demonstrated that Fatah’s institutional pinnacle was difficult to sustain. Fatah’s regulative legitimacy in the years until September 2000 was manifested through its primacy within the Palestinian Authority that was established in line with the Oslo accords. The PA’s normative pillar, how-

ever, was rather shaky. Failure to promote economic growth, faulty administrative norms, corruption, and violation of civil rights were high on the public agenda in the territories. Related criticism compounded the disappointment with the PA for not forcing Israel to meet agreed deadlines for the transfer of territories to Palestinian control, and to bring the unremitting expansion of Israeli settlements in the territo-

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Fatah’s Struggle for Institutionalization ries to an end. In other words, the PA was blamed for failing to bring about the national goal for which it was founded. The PA’s normative and regulative points of weakness were particularly exposed through its lack of resolve in the fight against opposition forces that defied the legitimacy of the Oslo accords, and therefore that of the PA itself, by continuing the violent struggle against Israel. And indeed, the failure to restrain the militant factions that strove to bring the peace talks to a halt by provoking a harsh Israeli response to the violence considerably undermined the Fatah-led base of political legitimacy. Thus, the PA came under Israeli and international criticism for its inability, simultaneously deemed the result of its unwillingness, to exercise control over territories under its security responsibility. It was against this composite backdrop of waning regulative, normative, and political legitimacy that the PA was challenged by the major situational shift of the July 2000 Camp David talks. The discussions ended without any understanding being reached. Consequently, the tension in the territories intensified and in late September 2000 riots erupted. With the onset of the uprising that came to be known as the al-Aqsa intifada, Fatah positioned itself at the forefront of the struggle. This move, which was designed by the organization to recover its shaky regulative and normative pillars and to compensate its institutional position for diminishing political legitimacy, brought the post-Oslo institutional phase to a close. However, instead of reinforcing Fatah’s institutional position, it precipitated a rapid process of institutional regression. In addition to reflecting Fatah’s institutional regression in terms of resumption of the violent struggle that had been renounced in the advent of the conclusion of the Oslo accords, the recourse to violence actually hastened the very institutional degeneration it had been designed to retract. The years of the intifada, 2000-2004, were marked by a significant erosion of Fatah’s three bases of legitimacy. The Israeli military response to the uprising disrupted the control of the Fatah-led PA on the ground and facilitated both the emergence of factions not affiliated with established organizational frameworks and their propensity to violence. The PA’s declining regulative control compounded its loss of normative support, which emerged from the failure to translate the cost ofthe intifada, in terms of casualties and destruction of infrastructure, into political gains. The PA was also held responsible by significant international actors for the failure to renew the Israeli-Palestinian dialogue. Its diminishing political legitimacy was clearly reflected by calls voiced particularly in Jerusalem and Washington to the Palestinian people to choose a new leadership worthy of taking part in a political process and able to make decisions designed to move the process forward. Ironically, the dismissive approach of the Fatah-led PA undercut what had been the most significant accomplishment of the Fatah-led PLO — the convergence of its own political legitimacy and that of the Palestinian right of self-determination. Thus, in the course of the al-Aqsa intifada, not only was the credibility of the PA considerably eroded, but the institutionalization process of the Fatah-led PLO was radically reversed. Perhaps most significant is that this institutional decline occurred while the Palestinian national cause and the right of the Palestinian people to an independe nt state gained increasing international popular and political legitimacy.

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The First Institutional Phase, 1959-1965 Regulative Formation

According to one member ofits founding core group, Fatah was formally created on October 10, 1959.' Upon its inception, the organization constituted a small nucleus of young Palestinian radicals, fully dedicated to the goal of liberating Palestine through a specific mechanism — violent struggle. While Fatah was not the first Palestinian group to emerge in the post-1948 era, it was the first organization to embrace a new and specifically Palestinian-centered strategic orientation, and to place the Palestinian struggle at the focus of its organizational existence.

Blowing in the Wind: Palestinian Political Action in the 1950s The inception of Fatah took place on the Middle East political sidelines. The underlying notion of independent Palestinian political action contradicted the ideological currents that prevailed at the time in the Middle East and competed for regional dominance. Beyond their conceptual differences, there were certain common threads to these various approaches: all viewed the political challenges in the Middle East from a regional perspective, and each contemplated universal pan-Arab or pan-Muslim answers to these challenges. Another shared feature was the subordination of Palestinian-related issues to the transnational ideological political and strategic outlooks. The various ideological platforms differed in their respective emphases on the establishment of Israel and the related problem of the Palestinian people. Similarly, they embraced different perceptions on how these problems should be addressed. Nonetheless, they all perceived the Palestinian problem to be a painful manifestation of the greater Arab predicament and the protracted struggle against Western prevalence in the Middle East. Thus the Palestinian issue became a prominent means of mobilizing domestic and regional legitimacy for Arab regimes.’ Palestinians, for their part, by and large accepted this transnational predisposition, which dictated that the solution to their predicament be sought within an all-Arab framework. Palestinians’ adherence to the idea of a unified Arab solution to their problem was the outcome of the loss of authority by their traditional national elite following the

23

The First Institutional Phase, 1959-1965

defeat of the Palestinian irregular forces and the armies of the Arab League in the 1948 war against the fledgling State of Israel. At the same time, the new reality did not encourage the emergence of an alternative leadership, either national or local. The Palestinian refugees, traumatized by the cataclysm of 1948 (dubbed al-nagbah, “the catastrophe”) that led to the expulsion of some 60 percent of the Arab residents of Palestine from their land, were engaged in a day-to-day struggle just to meet their daily needs. For the most part, they did not engage in political activity, least of all in self-reliant action.* Additional limitations on the evolution of new centers of national or even communal power were the lack of civil rights granted to the refugees by their hosting states, and the geographical dispersion of the communities themselves. Thus, political action by the Palestinians, which in any event was conducted under rigid constraints that hamstrung their freedom of political organization, was marked by ideological and organizational affiliation with regionally influential parties, movements, and regimes. : Edward Said’s description of the range of Palestinian political inclinations in the first years of the post-1948 era is most revealing. To describe or briefly characterize the exiled community, the ghurba as it is called, is virtually impossible because as a whole it has reflected and contributed to sociopolitical consciousness —in all its variety — of modern Arab life. There are Palestinian camp dwellers, intellectuals, engineers, workers, landless peasants in most Arab countries today; the class lines follow the main

structure of the host countries, but inevitably they have also been subordinated . . . to some overriding Palestinian personality. One can, I think, legitimately speak of Palestinian Nasserites, Palestinian Ba’athists, Palestinian Marxists, a Palestinian bourgeoisie; each in its own, sometimes peculiar way has formulated a theory, if not always a practical plan of return.4

The most influential among the ideological currents that prevailed in the Middle East in the 1950s was pan-Arabism, which stressed secular Arab nationalism.> The current took on operative modalities in the form of closed and loosely-coordinated factions that proliferated throughout the Middle East. Dominant among them was the Egyptian Revolutionary Command Council (RCC), led by President Gamal abd alNasser. Like other political ideologies popular in the region at the time, the pan-Arab worldview, which had been considerably enhanced following the defeat of 1948, did not delineate the Palestinian problem as an issue in its own right. Rather, the Palestinian agenda was considered to be subsumed under the broad issue of Arab national allegiance, and secondary to inter-Arab competition over ideological and political prevalence. Palestinian political activism reflected this regional trend. The most organized structure of political activism was conducted under the banner of secular nationali sm, within the framework the Arab Nationalist Movement — Harakat al-Quwmi yyin alArab (ANM). This movement, which was comprised of Arab — and mostly Palestinian ~ students in Beirut, was created in 1951. It went underground shortly afterward, and later in the 1950s became Nasserite in orientation.® Otherwise, Palestinia ns were organizationally associated with one or another ofthe other popular regional trends. In the Jordanian-ruled West Bank, the regime was mainly supported by residents of the middle class. The most active opposition association in Jordan was the local branch of the Syrian-led Arab Ba’ath Party.’ Residents of the refugee camps throughout the Middle East, and particularly in the Egyptian-ruled Gaza Strip, were usually sympa-

24

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Regulative Formation

thetic with the ideas advocated by the Muslim Brotherhood. This movement, which

traditionally emphasized mobilization through social and community action, also legitimized jihad, i.e., violent action as a mode of political struggle. In the absence of any other potentially effective strategy, notwithstanding the lack of an articulated political agenda, the militant aspect of radical Islam attracted many Palestinian activists, particularly from among the ranks of the less privileged segments of the refugee communities. Concurrently, however, another trend was emerging. In the first half of the 1950s,

Palestinians became progressively disillusioned with prospects for their national salvation via Arab or Islamic strategic platforms. The showdown between Nasser and the Islamists in 1954 forced the Muslim Brotherhood to lower its profile and restrict its activities to the social domain. Consequently, the mobilizing power of the movement decreased dramatically, and hope for advancing the Palestinian national cause as an Islamic interest began to fade. Nasserite pan-Arabism also appeared to be departing from its declared obligations to advance the Palestinian cause. Nasser was devoting his efforts to a campaign against the Baghdad Pact, the military alliance between Iraq and Turkey that was established on February 24, 1955 under British sponsorship.* The pact, which reflected the Western comprehensive strategy of deterring Soviet military threats, also improved Iraq’s position in the regional contest for power. In both regards, the pact essentially contradicted the interests and aspirations associated with Nasserite pan-Arabism. In addition, Palestinians were becoming more politically conscious. This maturation accompanied the rapid transformation of Palestinian society in the 1950s from its primarily agrarian nature prior to 1948 into a society dominated by the petit bourgeois and working classes. These new social sectors grew increasingly aware of their shared inability to translate their mounting economic significance into political influence. The significant growth in rates of literacy and education among Palestinians accounted at least in part for an awareness of collective disadvantages. The younger generation was enrolled in the elementary and secondary school system administered in the camps by the United Nations Relief Works Agency (UNRWA) and considered the most comprehensive in the Middle East. Yet modern education and skills did not guarantee better opportunities for Palestinian upward social mobilization, and therefore educational achievements often served to feed sentiments of collective frustration. Discontent was further cultivated by political ideas advanced by many UNRWA teachers. Most of them were volunteers who adhered to radical political theories and inculcated elaborate conceptualizations of social injustice and revolutionary change among their pupils. Palestinian students attended universities in Arab capitals, mainly in Beirut and in Cairo, where they were exposed not only to theories of political change, but to models of organization for revolutionary struggle as well. Palestinian student unions proliferated throughout the Middle East and elsewhere in the Palestinian diaspora. These unions featured narrow organizational structures, and emphasized non-committal participation that was grounded in the national identity of the participants. Thus, they were essentially based on a normative pillar of legitimacy. Their major course of action featured political discussions, rather than the translation of ideological concepts into activist strategies. The unions remained locally based, as no concerted efforts were made to reach out and mobilize broader bases of support. These characteristics of the student unions that operated in various countries in the Middle

25

The First Institutional Phase, 1959-1965

East and elsewhere appeared to result from a shortage of resources. Official restrictions constrained political action throughout the Middle East. But first and foremost, the limited scope of activity reflected the political helplessness that prevailed among the Palestinian refugee communities everywhere during the 1950s. The incipient change of atmosphere, however, appeared in the 1950s and the early 1960s through inclinations toward self-reliance within Palestinian communities. Among the organizations that were established in this period were the General Union of Palestinian Students, the General Union of Palestinian Workers, the General Union of Palestinian Women, the General Union of Palestinian Teachers, and the Palestine Red Crescent Society. In addition, activist thinking began to penetrate radical student circles, and in the second half of the 1950s, an important source of inspiration was the war for national liberation waged by the Algerian National Liberation Front (FLN) against French rule. Thus, inspired by ideas of social and political change, students began to conceive of their collective problem as an issue of national emancipation. Moreover, as the idea of Arab unity was increasingly perceived to be ineffective, particularly as far as the Palestinian cause was concerned, an alternative notion began to crystallize, depicting the Palestinian agenda as first and foremost a specifically Palestinian affair. While primordial association to the greater Arab wmma was not denied, Palestinian collective identity, ie., particular nationalism, was emerging. Slowly, and especially within the boundaries of the small and loosely-knit unions of Palestinian students, the notion of the liberation of Palestine as a strategic goal in its own right — what became known as “Palestine first” — became increasingly accepted. The idea of “Palestine first” confirmed the conceptualization of the Palestinian problem as an issue of national self-determination, rather than as an aspect of a regional inter-state conflict. This transference from one frame of reference to another embodied two interlocking foci. One related to the ideological tension in Arab politics between the broad concept of Arab nationalism and local nationalism. The other concerned the particular nature of the Palestinian problem, which in its new perspective had concrete operational implications. It explicitly suggested that the struggle for

Palestine, as a sub-state issue, no longer necessitated the involvement of conventional

State forces. Instead, the conduct of the struggle by non-state forces was legitimized, or at least made logically conceivable, in accordance with the political notions and strategic models of revolutionary change that inspired Palestinian students. In the late 1950s, the idea ofa Palestinian collective agenda, a /a “Palesti ne first,” enjoyed only marginal normative support and no political legitimacy whatsoever. Not yet supported by an organizational structure that would mobilize popular forces and administer the strategic imperatives of the cause, it merely implied an embryonic institutional phase. But in 1959 the idea of “Palestine first” was translated into an organizational structure, triggered by the major situational shift of the Sinai Campaign, or the Suez War of October 1956. Specifically, the war and its aftermath undermined the situational constraints that since 1948 had determin ed the national and strategic boundaries of the Palestinian political sphere. While in historical terms the idea of Fatah was a result of the war," in analytical terms the war was a necessary precondition for the inception of Fatah. Thus, for the institutional shift in Palestinianrelated politics to crystallize into a new organizational and strategic concept, a major situational shift had to occur. The Sinai War, unmatched in the 1950s in its ramifications for the Middle East, provided this situational shift.

26

Regulative Formation

The Sinai Campaign of 1956 The Sinai Campaign culminated a period of mounting regional tension. Initiated by Israel, France, and Britain, the war was designed to promote their various unilateral interests against Nasser’s growing opposition to the West’s traditional influence in the region. A pretext for the military operation was the nationalization by Egypt on July 26, 1956 of the Universal Maritime Suez Canal Company. In the background was the failure of the negotiations (which in any case had been stalled for several years) on terms for terminating the British military presence in the Canal zone, and the abandonment by the ruling Egyptian RCC of previous pro-Western sympathies. The anti-Western orientation, which precipitated Egypt’s alignment with the non-aligned bloc, was intended to silence criticism by the Muslim Brotherhood opposition movement regarding the Western influence in the country. Western and particularly American opposition to a high Arab profile within the regional security frameworks in planning stages had also played a major role in encouraging an anti-Western policy line. The rejection of Egypt’s request for financial aid by US Secretary of State John Foster Dulles, while seeking to deprive Egypt of other sources of assistance, further accelerated these emerging tendencies. The years preceding the war marked an upward spiral of the regional arms race. The US rejected Israel’s requests for arms, though it did not disapprove of deliveries of arms to Israel from other suppliers.'! Thus, in April 1956 the first delivery of French arms and combat aircraft, conducted under terms of a framework agreement concluded in 1954, reached the Israeli army. Egypt, for its part, reached an agreement with Czechoslovakia on a large supply of Soviet-made arms. The deal, signed in September 1955, reinforced Nasser’s position as leader of the Arab world, and spelled an end to Western hegemony in the Middle East.” The arms deal between Czechoslovakia and Egypt was perceived by Israeli leaders as an indication that Egypt was preparing for war. Consequently, voices in Israel’s security and political leadership calling for a preemptive military strike became louder and increasingly influential among security decision-makers. France, irritated by Egypt’s support for the rebels in Algeria, resolved io encourage Israel’s inclination toward a preemptive strike, in order to curtail assistance by Arab states to the North

African rebels. The tension along the Israeli-Egyptian border also increased, clashes became more frequent, and the Gaza Strip became the target for repeated Israeli crossborder retaliatory operations. On September 12, 1955, Egypt ordered the Straits of Tiran at the entrance to the Gulf of Aqaba closed for passage of ships to and from the Red Sea port of Eilat. Seeking to neutralize the threat of the British-sponsored Baghdad Pact on the one hand and of Egyptian militancy on the other, and also in order to strengthen its strategic relations with France, Israel embarked ona major military move. On October 29, in an operation coordinated with Britain and France, Israeli troops crossed the Israeli-Egyptian border and entered the Sinai Desert, reaching the east bank of the Suez Canal within two days. The Israeli army swiftly occupied the Gaza Strip as well. The Soviet Union, which focused on the relevance of the Middle East conflict to the global framework of the Cold War, issued an ultimatum calling for an

immediate ceasefire. Firmly phrased letters were addressed to Israel, France, Britain,

27

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The First Institutional Phase, 1959-1965

and the UN Security Council, as well as to the US. A ceasefire was declared on November 6, after pressure was exerted by the superpowers to bring the offensive to a halt. By December 22, 1956 the British and French forces withdrew from the area of the Canal, and the Israeli army completed its withdrawal from Sinai by March 1957. A UN force was deployed along the armistice lines.!3 Although the war demonstrated Egypt’s military limitations, military defeat was soon translated into political victory. The historical influence of Britain and France in the Middle East was terminated, and Nasser scored an indisputable achievement by demonstrating his firm determination to end the Western presence on Egyptian soil.'* However, Nasser’s desire to exclude foreign participation from a regional security framework failed, as Western influence in the region was replaced by Soviet predominance. The integration of the Middle East into the framework of the Cold War was marked by increased Israeli-French strategic cooperation and by the initiation of a favorable shift in US Middle East policy toward Israel.'° Even so, Soviet ties brought Egypt strategic advantages, and a new baseline was established for the Nasserite campaign for regional dominance. The next years saw the consolidation of the “Arab Cold War.” This “Cold War,” which highlighted Arab disunity, encouraged disillusionment with the idea of Arab unity as a prerequisite for the liberation of Palestine. Aspirations for a unified Arab solution to the Palestinian problem were not advanced by the creation in January 1958 of the Egyptian-Syrian United Arab Republic (UAR). While the formation of the UAR was purported to advance the cause of Arab unity, in reality the union focused on the regional competition for power. In-particular, this short-lived merger was meant to counterbalance both Iraq’s claim to regional dominance and King Hussein’s pro-Western policies.'* In addition, Egypt’s spectacular defeat in the military sphere, which was not eradicated by its post-war political achievements, heightened doubts concerning the prospects for a military solution to the Palestinian problem. Consequently, the small but active circles of politically-oriented Palestinians intensified their attempts toward a course of independent action. Over the years, their effort yielded a proliferation of groups. One of them was the Palestinian branch within the framework of the increasingly pro-Nasserite ANM. In retrospect, the circumstances leading to the creation of this branch were an early indication of the strategic shift that was taking place within the context of Palestinian political activism. In March

1959, Nasser introduced

the slogan of a “Palestinian

entity,” in line with his plan to establish a Palestinian organizat ion that would emphasize political action and in any event be subordinate to Egyptian interests.!7 This intention echoed persistent attempts by Arab states, among them Egypt, to manipulate the Palestinian card. However, the Palestinian members of ANM, who were unwilling to give up the military option, reacted by creating a distinct Palestinian branch within the movement. Nasser, who since the mid-1950’s had encouraged pro-Nasserite inclinations among members of the movement, sought to neutralize the evolving tendency towards autonomous Palestini an action. Therefore, he requested logistical assistance from Syria, so as to keep the ANM within the domain of UAR control. The emergence of the ANM’s Palestinian branch had a number of marked institutional features. Upon inception, the regulative pillar, namely, the organizational core of the Palestinian branch of theANM, was relatively indepen dent. It did not rely upon

28

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Regulative Formation

the political legitimacy of an external power, like the state-administered Palestinian units within Arab armies. The branch also differed from other non-state Palestinian groupings, such as the various Palestinian professional and student unions, in terms of its strategic emphasis on military action. However, the branch was created within the institutional boundaries of an existing movement that relied heavily upon states’ political legitimacy, and therefore it was essentially subordinate to external control. This institutional base left no room for independent maneuver, least of all for a campaign bent on establishing a popular, normative base of support. In terms ofinstitutional determinants of popular forces, the total dependence of the Palestinian branch of the ANM on external political legitimacy dictated its eventual submission to and absorption by forces based on a relatively autonomous organizational core, and supported by a broad popular base. Thus, the emergence of Fatah was enhanced by Palestinian disillusionment and the growing doubt in Arab unity and military capability as prerequisites for the liberation of Palestine. More concrete triggers behind the foundation of Fatah were developments that took place on the Egyptian domestic scene in the aftermath of the war. The US administration, determined to isolate Egypt internationally, rejected applications from Cairo for financial help. In an attempt to control pockets of domestic protest, which grew louder as the country’s economy deteriorated, Nasser intensified the fight against active and potential opposition. The social and political institutions of the Muslim Brotherhood had already been targeted for a persistent crackdown, and after the war, the movement was banned. Affiliated students and Palestinian followers in

particular were put under surveillance. Concurrently, Egypt halted Palestinian crossborder assaults against Israel, which had been previously authorized and organized by the army. This was the backdrop for Yasir Arafat’s expulsion in 1957 to Kuwait, where conditions for political action were much more favorable than anywhere else in the Arab world.'* Here Arafat and other Palestinian activists who had known each other for several years embarked on the creation of their own organization. Reflecting on the period where the Egyptian regime essentially encouraged the Palestinian search for self-reliant action, Arafat stated that “the interests of the Egyptians lost touch with the Palestinian movement . . . after the Suez War, Nasser began to move to the other side.”'!° The Palestinian political action was thus primed for its independent appearance on the regional scene.

Establishing Regulative Legitimacy Members of Fatah’s founding core had bonded together several years before launching their own organization. Affiliation with the Muslim Brotherhood was a common bond, as was the Union of Palestinian Students. Yasir Arafat founded the Union, which later evolved into the General Union of Palestinian Students, and was also the

Union’s appointed president over the years 1952-57.” It was during these years that Salah Khalaf (later to become better known by his nom de guerre, Abu lyad), Khalil al-Wazir (Abu Jihad), and other Palestinian activists who would become key figures in Fatah met. In 1957 in Kuwait, Arafat, Wazir, and other activists who came from

Syria formulated their political credo, which was promulgated in two papers: the

29

The First Institutional Phase, 1959-1965

“Structure of Revolutionary Construction” and the “Movement’s Manifesto.” The papers stressed the determination to organize for independent action in order to promote the goal of liberating Palestine in its entirety. Khalaf recalled that at Fatah’s first official meeting in October 1959, “there were fewer than twenty of us in all, representatives of underground groups from various Arab countries and beyond . . . the total number of militants represented by those attending the restricted congress was under 500 people.” The founding nucleus dealt with regulative directives of their organization, namely, “the movement’s structure . . . aS well as strategy and tactics,” on the basis of a program that was concluded in early 1958. The ultimate goal was the creation of “a democratic state on all [of] Palestine in which Jews, Christians, and Muslims could live in harmony as equal citizens.”?! This necessarily implied the annihilation of the State of Israel as a political entity. Fatah’s first institutional phase was marked by a dearth of human and material resources, as well as by unfavorable surrounding conditions. Therefore, the founding core launched discreet organizational and mobilization efforts bearing in mind the objective of broadening the organization’s institutional infrastructure. To this end, Fatah had to tap the broadest potential to successfully engage popular and governmental support and gain normative and political legitimacy. Three organizational strategies followed from Fatah’s ambitious goals. One was the adoption of an expansive and quite ambiguous ideological platform, focusing on Palestinian nationalism. The ideology was deliberately vague, so as not to alienate any potential constituency, and represented an effort to close the gaps among the various political currents then prevailing in the Middle East. The second organizational program was the articulation of the armed struggle (a/-kifah al-musallah) as a means to promote normative support. The armed struggle was articulated as the strategy, thus the only means and the only logic of organizational action by which to advance the legitimization of the organization and its cause. In this sense the aggressive course of action was an obvious strategic choice for Fatah, whose members wished to impose a new concept vis-d-vis the Palestinian problem and its environment. The third feature was the practical decision to keep the existence of the organization clandestine, at least for the time being. Going underground was not just a matter of strategic choice. Rather, it was an indispensable decision, stemming from the need to protect the organization against likely reactions from the challenged Arab regimes, and to allow for an eventual, controlled surfacing. During this period, mobilization efforts were primarily conducted from Tripoli, Lebanon through the underground publication Filastinuna. Though the association between Fatah and the publication, edited by Naji Alush, was concealed, the editorial articles mainly propagated the strategic outlook of Arafat and Khalil al-Wazir. Two recurring themes of the publication’s editorials were the goal of Palestinian self-determination and the armed struggle, both as a manifestation of this desired end and the means to advance it. Between the years 1959 and 1964, forty issues of Filastinuna, more a leaflet than a magazine, were published. The early 1960s thus saw the consolidati on of Fatah’s strategic thought. At this institutional phase, Filastinuna was the medium for publicizing the ideological platform and strategic imperatives of the organizatio n. Thousands of copies were distributed to Palestinians in the Middle East and beyond. The publication venture, as well as other costly activities — including travel from Kuwait to other states — was financed by businesses run by Arafat and Wazir in Kuwait, and by salaries earned by other members of the founding nucleus.

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Regulative Formation

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The publication of Fatah’s ideological platform and strategic conceptions proved instrumental in bringing about organizational expansion and growth. By 1961-62, some forty associations of Palestinian political activists from the Middle East and Europe had joined the organization. In all, hundreds were recruited throughout the Middle East. The slogan of the armed struggle as the means to liberate Palestine became popular in the Palestinian sphere and increasingly dominated the political debate, even though no actual assault was launched and the name of the driving force behind this new conception remained unknown to the public at large. The new recruits were organized in small, tight cells in different locations in the Middle East and elsewhere, as leaders took special care to conceal the existence and activities of the organization outside Kuwait. The cells were established mainly in universities and refugee camps and among concentrations of workers. Among the new members, most of whom came from Syria and the Gaza Strip, were the brothers Hani and Khaled al-Hasan, Farugq Qaddumi, and Mahmoud Abbas (Abu Mazen), who would later become leading figures in the organization. Hani al-Hasan, head of the Germany-based International Union of Palestinian Students, joined forces with Fatah, thus considerably strengthening the human infrastructure of the organization.” Prior to early 1963, Fatah was characterized by a fairly loose association of likeminded groups. Only in February of that year did the founding core establish itself as the organization’s Central Committee, and a decision was made to hold periodic meetings of a General Conference. Between the two managerial levels of the organization a Revolutionary Council was constituted. However, the General Conference rarely met, and the Revolutionary Council lacked operative power. Thus, despite the growth of the organization’s numbers and the formal hierarchy of decision-making, strategic and daily matters were still the domain of the founding inner circle. This feature of Fatah’s decision-making remained in effect for many years to come. Significantly, the emerging organization reflected the ongoing social transformation of the dispersed Palestinian people. All of the members of the organization’s regulative core were refugees, excluding Qaddumi, who had formerly been a member of the Ba’ath Party and a resident of the Jordanian-ruled West Bank. The founding nucleus, as well as the majority of the new recruits, belonged to the Palestinian bourgeoisie. They constituted a new generation, dissociated from the traditional leadership in terms of both social status and political outlook. The early 1960s saw the consolidation of Fatah’s organizational determinants. Radical goals were formulated and organizational boundaries were defined, featuring structured conscription and committed membership. In addition, the organization codified rules for coordinating its actions. Fatah was thus consolidated as a “closed system” that, as a general rule, relies primarily on a regulative pillar of legitimacy. This course of action, focusing on clandestine coordination for an eventual execution of the strategy of violent struggle, constituted Fatah’s main drive until 1965.

Mobilization in Theory Fatah’s violent strategy reflected its strategic affiliation with the general sphere of popular insurgency. Indeed, the strategic emphasis placed on the armed struggle is a 31

The First Institutional Phase, 1959-1965

common denominator of insurgent organizations, and particularly of organizations that strive to promote goals of national self-determination.” In the crucial aspects of military and political capabilities, insurgent organizations tend to be significantly weaker than the forces they oppose. Thus, the violent strategy is considered to be an effective mechanism for mobilizing human and material resources, designed to compensate these organizations for their structural inferiority, which is particularly apparent in early institutional phases. From this perspective, Fatah’s emphasis on the armed struggle was an inevitable strategic choice. Certainly it was modeled after behavioral preferences of other organizations that operated under similar situational constraints. More important, however, it did not reflect a presumption on the part of the organization’s ideologists and strategists that a political solution was inconceivable, and therefore Israel should be fought by means of violent struggle only. Rather, it appeared to stem primarily from the absence of alternative modes for promoting a favorable institutional shift within the context of a powerful and hostile environment. Furthermore, the violent struggle was not formulated merely as a means to confront Israel, since the military balance between the Palestinians and the Israeli army did not need to be tested or confirmed. Rather, it was explicitly adopted as a means of mobilizing popular support. Fatah’s founders argued that it was the only way to impress the Palestinian cause on the international agenda, and more important, the only way to rally the masses to the popular movement in formation. The underlying logic was that only through armed struggle would Fatah “be capable of transcending ideological differences and thus become the catalyst of unity.”24 Thus, at a very early institutional phase, Fatah’s founders sought to establish normative support for their organization and mobilize a mass movement. They were also aware of the need to mobilize external support and attain political legitimacy. Fatah’s strategic framework challenged the widely accepted Nasserite vision of destroying the State of Israel in a swift military operation launched by a united Arab force. Instead, Fatah’s strategists argued that Israel should become the target fora war of attrition, to be conducted by irregular forces. The struggle they were preparing themselves for was called “revolutionary action,” or “revolutionary violence.””> Their doctrine had “as its goal the liquidation of the Zionist entity in all the occupied territory of Palestine.” Aware of their structural disadvantages, they envisioned a struggle “of long duration.” The founders of Fatah stressed that their organization, as a spearhead of the revolution, “must be independent of any control by [outside] parties and states,” yet confirming their devotion and commitment to the idea of “Palestine first,” they charged that the existence of Israel was in fact a major obstacle to Arab unity,”° and that “the revolution is Palestinian in origin and Arab in development.””’ Clearly the latter principal was also meant to defuse some of the fundamental tension between the notions ofPalestinian nationalism and all-Arab unity, and to demonstrate that the two objectives were mutually supportive. The violent struggle was conceived, therefore, as the sole means by which to advance the composite objective of mobilizing national and external support for the organization and to generate a process that would eventually lead to the destruction of Israel. The objectives and means were fused into one synergistic concept — the strategy of the armed struggle. Underlying the cohesion of radical objectives with violent means was also the conviction that violence was a viable way to achieve col-

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Regulative Formation

lective catharsis. Violence was intended to allow for the emergence of national selfconfidence, perceived as a prerequisite for the pending all-out popular struggle.” According to Khalaf, this perception of popular violence, which was promoted by Franz Fanon, the inspiring ideologist of the Algerian revolution, implied that only a people that doesn’t “fear the guns and tanks of the enemy is capable offighting a revolution to the finish. By that [Fanon] meant that the Algerian nationalists would never have started anything if they had taken into account the balance of power at the time they launched their insurrection.” Indeed, the Algerian war of national liberation — its causes and modes of warfare — encouraged Fatah’s adoption of a strategy of armed struggle. Thus, It wasn’t only the experiences and errors of our [Palestinian] predecessors which helped guide our first steps. The guerrilla war in Algeria, launched five years before the creation of Fatah, had a profound influence on us. We were impressed by the Algerian nationalists’ ability to form a solid front, wage war against an army a thousand times superior to their own, obtain many forms of aid from various Arab governments (often at adds with one another), and at the same

time avoid becoming dependent on any of them. They symbolized the success we dreamed of.*?

Inspired and encouraged by such revolutionary doctrines, Fatah ideologies forged a phased program for the struggle. The first phase, the “Formation of the Revolutionary Vanguard,” was to be promoted by the “movement of revolutionary gathering of the revengeful conscious wills,” by recruiting “the [social and familial] circles of those involved in the revolution.” The second phase, the “Formation ofthe Revolutionary Organization,” was designed to mobilize broad popular support for the struggle, since “in it the Revolutionary Vanguard achieves a psychological mobilization of the Palestinian masses by stimulating their urge for revenge, until the constructive revolutionary anxiety embraces all Palestinian Arabs.” Fatah’s publications clearly stated that the success of the revolutionary action would depend on successful cooperation between the organization’s revolutionary vanguard, its regulative core, and the masses, its normative pillar of legitimacy. The third phase, the “Formation of the Supporting Arab Front,” was intended to mobilize external legitimacy from Arab governments, and to “put pressure on them not to slacken or deviate from aiding the Palestinian Revolution by pursuit of their local interests. The supporting Arab Front is thus expressed on two levels, the popular and the governmental. The popular support is used as an instrument of pressure against the Arab governments.” The program explicitly referred to the violent course of action as the means to advance both interim and long-term goals of the struggle. Thus, the “introduction of the masses” was not expected “to precede the staging of the armed struggle, but to be achieved by it.” *! The strategy of armed struggle was not immediately put into practice, and postponement of the implementation was not caused merely by an insufficient human and material infrastructure. While the majority of Fatah’s leading figures pressed for an immediate recourse to violence, there were others who questioned the strategy. Intra-

organizational disagreements concerned the necessary prerequisites and right timing for launching assaults, and even the very logic of revolutionary violence. Hani alHasan, who recommended that military or paramilitary assaults be postponed until the time and conditions were ripe, noted that “all wanted the military option, but when to start and how to start was the difference. The ‘wise current’ said they needed at least

33

The First Institutional Phase, 1959-1965

3,000 fighters, and weapons everywhere, and enough money to pay for those who would later be martyrs. The ‘mad current’ said that revolution is like a human being. It cannot be created. You have to be born as a baby, then become a young man, then a real man.” Naji Alush went so far as to question the relevance of the Algerian case to the Palestinian situation, specifying several situational determinants that made the two cases practically incompatible. Alush argued that before Palestinians could organize themselves for war, they would first have to overcome Arab governments’ domination. But since “no Arab government will tolerate the organization of the Palestinians on its territory, unless they constitute a part of its forces and are subservient to its policy,” Alush placed the thrust of the argument on the perceived infeasibility of overcoming Arab domination.** Alush and others Fatah members warned against Israeli reprisals that would lead to yet another spectacular Arab defeat, and thus further advocated postponement of the struggle. Responding to such claims, Fatah writings argued that “history has never witnessed the failure of a popular revolution.”*4 Fatah’s first operation was carried out in early 1965. The decision to resort to action and therefore risk the consequences of exposure, which marked the dawning of Fatah’s next institutional phase, was not only the outcome of intra-organizational negotiation on capabilities and readiness. Rather, it was primed by a major situational shift: Nasser’s initiative to confer an organizational structure upon the idea of a “Palestinian entity,” and thereby formalize the emphasis placed on the Israeli—Palestinian conflict within the context of regional politics. The result of this initiative, the constitution of the Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO), was Fatah’s first major political challenge.

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The Second Institutional Phase, 1965-1967 Coming to the Surface

The Establishment of the PLO During the 1962-63 years, the contest among Arab states for domination consumed the regional agenda. Relations between Egypt and Syria were severely strained following the dismantling of theUAR in 1961. Egypt, Saudi Arabia, and Syria backed different sides in the civil war that began in Yemen in 1962. Talks on unifying Egypt, Syria, and Iraq, held in Cairo in March-April 1963, failed to reach the expected outcomes. Against this backdrop, it seemed that antagonism toward Israel was the only sentiment and policy directive that was common to all parties in the Arab political arena. The Palestinian issue, as a significant card in the inter-Arab contest for regional influence, thus lent itself to the institutional framework of a state-sponsored “Palestinian entity.” The idea of a “Palestinian entity” was not particularly innovative. Nasser had mentioned it in 1959, thereby adding a link to the chain of developments that spurred the inception of Fatah. Abd-Karim Qassem, then leader of Iraq, also brought up the notion as a future project, calling for the establishment of a Palestinian republic in the Gaza Strip and the West Bank. Egypt, for its part, established the Palestinian National Union in the Gaza Strip. Both Egypt and Iraq made the Palestinian issue a case in point within the context of their rivalry and their common wish to destabilize the Jordanian monarchy by means of its Palestinian population. Nor was Damascus out of the game: in the early 1960s, the Ba’ath Party established its own Palestinian branch, seeking to contain the challenges that emanated from the intensive recruitment campaigns conducted in the Palestinian refugee camps by Fatah, the ANM, and the Palestine Liberation Front (PLF).' Soon after, Syria decided to support Fatah itself, marking a new phase in the role of the Palestinian national cause within the sphere of inter-Arab political rivalries. In 1962, responding to the proliferation of independent Palestinian organizations, a Progressive Revolutionary Front was created from within the General Union of Palestinian Students, which was based in Cairo and Damascus. Both Syria and Egypt, however, rejected an idea that had been raised, to establish an associated underground network.’

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The Second Institutional Phase, 1965-1967

In September 1963, Palestinian-related politics evolved into a more formalized issue and generated an institutional shift. Ahmed Shugairy, the Palestinian representative to the Arab League, was empowered by the Council of Foreign Ministers of the League to prepare a plan for the revival of the “Palestinian entity.”? The idea was cultivated further at the first Arab summit, convened by Nasser and held in Cairo in January 1964. The summit was prompted by the advanced stage of the Israeli national water carrier project, designed to channel water from the Sea of Galilee in northern Israel to the Negev in the south.‘ Arab leaders perceived the plan as a blatant act of aggression. In quest for a face-saving response, the summit agreed to set up the Unified Arab Command (UAC), intended primarily to promote a long-term objective, preparing the various Arab armies for a future confrontation with Israel, and a short-term goal — obstruction of Israel’s water diversion project by conducting counter-diversion works. The “Palestinian entity” was also high on the summit’s agenda. Both issues, which were directly associated with the Israeli-Arab conflict, took shape specifically against the backdrop of inter-Arab politics. Nasser’s initiative to confer an organizational structure upon the Palestinian entity reflected the transformation of the Palestinian issue into a prominent magnet for national commitment within the Arab urban constituency, and thus a powerful mechanism for mobilizing legitimacy in the regional sphere.’ This move, however, coincided with a growing inclination among Palestinians to dissociate themselves from ideological currents and parties that rooted the Palestinian cause specifically within the context of an all-Arab framework. An autonomous current that pioneered the notion of “Palestine first” and its strategic imperatives was gaining momentum, challenging the Arab regimes’ domination of Palestinian-related issues. In the early 1960s Fatah, although still underground, managed to establish contacts with other Palestinian associations and groups that were searching for a course of independent action. However, Arab states and particularly Egypt did not intend to provide a formal Palestinian national organization with any measurable freedom of action, and promoting the Palestinian entity idea was primarily meant to fend off pressures on Egypt to assume a decisive anti-Israeli stand, without risking an all-out confrontation with Israel. Hence the very idea of creating a Palestinian entity was as much a device to control emerging inclinations toward activism among Palestinians as to address inter-Arab pressures pertaining to the Arab-Israeli conflict. However, disagreem ents at the summit as to the political and operative implications of the proposed entity prevented an official decision on its establishment from being made. The term “entity” was not even mentioned in the concluding resolution of the summit, although Shugairy was commissioned to examine ways of translating the idea of a Palestinian organization into practice. Since what the Arab leaders had in mind was essentially a servile organization, designed to command legitimacy and power by virtue of its association with their own regimes, Shuqairy’s instructions constitut ed a compromise between their diverse approaches. Predictably, King Hussein of Jordan initially rejected the plan in its entirety, but against the backdrop of rapproch ement between Cairo and Amman, the king agreed to host a meeting of the Palestinia n parliamentary assembly, the Palestine National Council (PNC), in East Jerusalem . The meeting was supposed to determine the structure and policies of the Palestinia n entity.° On May 28, 1964 the assembly was convened in the presence of King Hussein and

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Coming to the Surface

representatives of Arab governments. The constitution of the Palestine Liberation Organization was officially agreed upon, and Shuqairy was nominated as president of the PLO’s executive committee. The Arab governments’ impulse to curtail self-reliant inclinations was clear from the draft constitution of the PLO. Article 3 stated that, “The Palestinian people shall form the larger base for this Organisation; and the Organisation, after its creation, shall work closely and constantly with the Palestine people for the sake of their organisation and mobilization so they may be able to assume their responsibility in the liberation of their country.” At the same time, the draft stressed that “the President of the [PLO] Executive Committee shall represent the Palestinians at the Arab League, therefore, his office shall be in Cairo since the

Arab League Headquarters is there.”’ In addition to “fixed taxes levied on Palestinians,” funds would be provided by Arab governments, thus ensuring their financial control over the organization. Fatah’s idea of a Palestinian entity was distinctly different from the one envisioned by Arab leaders. The organization itself, like others affiliated with the evolving array of Palestinian resistance factions (harakat al-mugawama al-Filastiniyya), was the embodiment of the “bottom-up” approach. Arab leaders, for their part, adhered to a “top-down” approach, seeking to subordinate the legitimizing power ofthe Palestinian issue to their own interpretations of the pan-Arab ethos. Fatah’s leadership was also particularly alarmed by the declared intention of Arab states to exert comprehensive control over Palestinian military actions against Israel. Articles 18 and 19 of the PLO’s draft constitution stated that “the Arab states shall avail the sons of Palestine the opportunity of enlisting in their regular armies on the widest scale possible. Private Palestinian contingents shall be formed in accordance with the military needs and plans decided by the Unified Arab Military Command in agreement and cooperation with the concerned Arab States.’”* These articles constituted the basis for the constitution by the second Arab summit of the PLO’s military arm — the Palestine Liberation Army (PLA). The PLA was intended to carry out harassment raids inside Israel, but as an

arm of the state-sponsored PLO, Palestinian activists perceived it as a means to silence their calls for action.’ In all dimensions, then, the establishment of the PLO threatened to undermine

Fatah’s claim to domination of the Palestinian struggle and accelerated the end of Fatah’s years underground. Hence while the very inception of Fatah was initially strongly influenced by the Arab idea of a Palestinian entity, the Arab-sponsored institutionalization of this concept was what triggered Fatah’s decision to make its existence publicly known and to exercise its formal strategy of violence.

Violent Mobilization in Practice The PLO was initially based on external political support only. Still, this institutional foundation threatened to frustrate the aspirations of other Palestinian groups, and particularly those of Fatah, to present themselves as the spearhead of the Palestinian national struggle. Fatah’s reaction was swift, and quickly resolved its ongoing internal debate concerning the launching of the armed struggle. Those who had urged immediate action won the upper hand, arguing that there would now be a need to compete with the PLO for the minds, and particularly the hearts, of the Palestinian masses.

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The Second Institutional Phase, 1965-1967

According to Khalaf, “the situation was ripe for armed struggle [since] the Palestinian masses had not yet fallen under the intoxicating sway of Shuqairy’s demagoguery and would be impressed by our dedication and will to act.”! Thus, Fatah’s second institutional phase was characterized by emphasis on violent action. Its first military operation, a bombing attack against the water diversion project in northern Israel, was carried out on January 1, 1965.!! On January 6, 1965, acommuniqué was issued in Beirut, claiming responsibility for the attack and discussing its background and causes. The leaflet specifically referred to Zionist imperialism as the threat facing the Palestinian people and the Arab world as a whole. In actuality, however, this was not the threat that had sparked the shift in Fatah’s mode of mobilization; rather, the catalyst originated from within the Arab world. Responding to the challenge posed by the PLO, Fatah put its strategy of violence, which heretofore lay in an open-ended preparatory stage, into practice as a primary means to institutionalize the organization both internally and externally. Although the leading nucleus of the organization saw the armed struggle as a means to rally the masses around the organization and establish normative support for their organized struggle, its members were still reluctant to reveal their organizational structure. Fatah’s Syrian sponsors, who wished to keep its operational scope within limits, also imposed secrecy. Hence, responsibility for the first attack was claimed in the name

of the organization’s military arm, al-Asifa (“the storm”), which since 1963 had been

organized and supported by Syria. In subsequent months, until mid-1967, Fatah conducted a persistent effort to carry out cross-border assaults inside Israel; responsibility for all these attacks was claimed by al-Asifa. Targets emphasized primarily civilian objectives, and an effort was made to avoid confrontation with the Israeli security forces. Although the choice of targets was directed by Syrian security elements, until late 1966 the cells were forbidden to operate from Syrian territory, and raids were carried out across the Jordanian, Lebanese, and Egyptian borders.'? Accounts of the raids vary from source to source, yet all agree that between early 1965 and mid-1967, several dozen raids were perpetrated each year.'? The great majority of these raids were launched from the Jordanian—admini stered West Bank or from the East Bank of the Jordan River, attesting to Damascus’s wish to distance itself from responsibility and to use the Palestinians to embroil King Hussein in a conflict with Israel. The attacks escalated in intensity and in volume, especially following the summer of 1966, which saw Nasser’s decision to support the

raids, and the renewal of relations between Cairo and Damascus .

The implementation ofthe strategy did not significantly alter Fatah’s mode of organizing and its coordination for action. For the present, it manifes ted covert styles of organizing and activity: no framework for mobilizing mass recruitment existed, AlAsifa consisted of strictly regulated underground cells, and membership entailed full commitment and extreme secrecy. Due to disciplinary problem s, even the relatively independent cells that were organized in the West Bank operate d within the restrictive framework of the leadership’s directives regarding choice of target and mode of action. Only one activist in each cell could establish contact with another member at a higher organizational level. Recruits were all Palestinians, residents of refugee camps, between the ages of twenty and thirty. At its outset, al-Asifa numbered only twentyfour members. In 1965 the number rose to about 200, and the following year it reached about 600. Fatah also merged with smaller groups over the course of this period.'4

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Fatah claimed responsibility for many more raids than it actually perpetrated and distributed distorted, spectacularly inflated reports of casualties and inflicted damage. This persistent and calculated effort to raise sympathy by amplifying the organization’s deeds generated headlines and placed the violent struggle high on the Palestinian public agenda. At the same time, the fictitious accounts made the organization seem preposterous, if not desperate. The exaggeration was used against Arafat in the context of intra-organizational debates as well as counter-propaganda campaigns conducted by the Israeli and Arab governments.'5 Thus the second institutional phase was marked by violent action that met the basic requirements for organizational continuity, but without much more, certainly in terms of efforts toward popular mobilization. This operational focus was formulated not only to facilitate implementation of the violent strategy, which would in any case have required covertness; rather, the lack of normative and political legitimacy left Fatah no choice but to act aggressively if it wished to influence its environment. The small, albeit growing number of members, in addition to the strictly regulated and secret structure, earned Fatah features of a “typical” terrorist organization.

Regional Responses The regional ramifications of Fatah’s constitution and organization for action were by no means restricted to adverse counter-propaganda campaigns. Besides harsh denunciation, responses included active efforts to curb the organization’s activity, as well as the formation of militant alternatives. Efforts to deny the organization operative capabilities involved political measures and even military shows of force against states that either willingly or unwillingly hosted its bases. Concurrently, the period witnessed initiation of state sponsorship of the organization and even the onset of political legitimacy. For its part, the PLO viewed the raids reprovingly, and called upon Arab regimes to curb al-Asifa’s independent actions. Clearly, the mobilizing appeal of the armed struggle threatened to deprive the PLO of the potential normative legitimacy that it believed was its due. Yet incapable of dissociating the PLO from the enhanced prestige of the activist violence, Shuqairy permitted Fatah’s announcements to be broadcast on the PLO’s Voice of Palestine radio station, which had operated in Cairo since March 1965. At the same time, the PLO set about broadening its institutional base, by providing an alternative of its own to the militant drive. Talks on the possible unification of Fatah and the PLO failed, as Fatah rejected an offer to become a wing of the PLO, and Shugairy, for his part, suspected that what Fatah’s leaders had in mind was an eventual takeover of the umbrella organization. In an effort to fend off this threat, the PLO did join forces with the small activist faction Palestine Liberation Front — Path of Return. In addition, an agreement on military cooperation was formulated between the PLO and the originally pro-Nasserite ANM,'° and a revolutionary council was set up for the purpose of coordinating military actions. These developments were testimonies to the mounting pressure on the political bodies in the Arab world, which faced the choice of the terrorist method or the possible loss of their

stature. By and large, Arab countries opposed Fatah’s string of cross-border raids. Jordan was particularly alarmed by the practice of the armed struggle, since most of the raids 39

a

The Second Institutional Phase, 1965-1967

were launched from its territory. In addition to likely Israeli reprisals, the Hashemite regime was concerned that the militant message would instigate unrest among the country’s Palestinian population. King Hussein indeed allowed the establishment of the PLO in Jordan, although this was accompanied by close monitoring of the organization and restrictions on its activities, imposed in an effort to remove from the public agenda questions concerning the legitimacy of the Hashemite kingdom.'’ While some military officers and politicians, especially those of Palestinian origin, were sympathetic to Fatah, mobilizing support for the organization was essentially problematic,

since even the name of al-Asifa was not mentioned in the media.!8 Lebanon, which was

also a base for some al-Asifa operations (albeit to a much lesser extent than Jordan) took measures against the raids, intensified the supervision over refugee camps and movement of Palestinians in the country, and asked Arab states to halt the sabotage operations. Egypt and Saudi Arabia harshly criticized the independent military actions, fearing they would provoke Israeli reprisals. In December

1965, addressing the Arab summit that convened

in Casablanca,

Nasser advocated a halt to the raids. The forum endorsed the call, with only Syria abstaining from adopting the anti-Fatah policy.’ Seeking to deny Fatah its selfappointed position in the sphere of the armed struggle and to ward off pressures on

the part of the PLO to allow the PLA freedom of operation, Arab leaders resolved to

accelerate formation of the PLA’s units. Nasser translated this policy into practice, and sent units of the Unified Arab Command to Arab states, demandin g that they prevent raids from being carried out across their borders with Israel. Clearly, the resolve to confine Palestinian military action to the PLA contradicted — indeed, openly ignored — Fatah’s demand that the Arab states cease their persecuti on of its sabotage units, free those imprisoned, remove the embargo placed on their publications in many of the Arab states, and refrain from attacking cells on their way to raids into Israel. On the whole, condemnation ofthe raids focused on the timing and methods ofthe

struggle. For domestic reasons, Arab governments could not ignore popular sympathy for the Palestinian cause. At the same time, out of conside rations pertaining to the sphere of the inter-Arab contest for power, they could not allow a self-appointed upstart organization like Fatah to assume the role of spearheading the struggle. Moreover, Arab regimes, particularly the Egyptian, Lebanes e, and Jordanian governments, were concerned that al-Asifa’s raids might trigger a regional escalation. Related concerns guided Nasser’s insistent efforts, made within the framework of the Arab summit system, to make sure that no Arab state, Syria in particular, ignite a war against Israel, without coordinating with other states. This same objective guided the November 1966 conclusion of a joint defense agreemen t between Damascus and Cairo. Against the backdrop of renewed relations between Syria and Egypt, therefore, Nasser changed his policy toward Fatah, and urged Syria to grant al-Asifa freedom of action from its borders. The Syrian factor proved to be of particular signif icance. The eventuality of an Arab-Israeli war appeared to be precisely what the Syrian regime wanted, and it was this interest that motivated the relations that it had been cultivating with Fatah since 1963 when a coup d’état brought the Ba’ath party to power. While the Syrian government for the most part was hostile to Fatah, the organization enjoyed the support of several influential party members. The most promi nent of them were General Hafez al-Asa d, then commander ofthe air force, and Ahmed Sweidani, head of military intel-

40

Coming to the Surface

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ligence. Since 1964, they had allowed Fatah to use training camps in Syria, and Asad himself supervised the delivery of Algerian arms shipments to the organization.”” Relations between Fatah and Damascus became even closer in the immediate aftermath of the establishment of the PLO, which heightened the tension between Cairo and Damascus. A coup of February 1966 brought a radical wing of the Ba’ath to power. The new regime, led by Asad, was irritated by Egypt’s wish to restrain militant sentiments among Palestinians and to keep activist tendencies under tight control. In addition, more than any other Arab country, Syria was concerned about Israel’s pending completion of its national water carrier project, which impacted on its own water resources. For this reason, Damascus was interested in more than a face-saving formula for confronting Israel as an answer to the intertwined ideological and strategic Israeli-Arab and inter-Arab disputes. Hence Damascus refused Shuqairy’s request to refrain from assisting Fatah, yet reluctant to provide the organization complete freedom of action and wishing to dissociate itself from the violent acts, Syria did not allow al-Asifa to cross into Israel from its territory. In late 1966, Fatah’s operational sphere significantly expanded when Asad, who advocated a popular guerrilla war against Israel, opened the Syrian front to Palestinian raids. This development was enhanced by an altered Egyptian position toward the sabotage attacks. Fear of losing control over Palestinian militancy that until then had been primarily sponsored by Syria motivated Cairo to try and regain initiative. In late 1965 Egypt launched cells into action, although this policy reversal was not meant to strengthen Fatah directly. On the contrary, it was designed to deprive Fatah of its status as the sole organization leading the violent struggle.’! However, the Egyptian policy shift, coupled with Syria’s conditional sponsorship, benefited Fatah. Inter-Arab approval of the armed struggle meant that Fatah had succeeded in gaining external, political legitimacy for its chosen mode of action. Moreover, the Egyptian and Syrian decisions were undoubtedly stimulated by the rising popular sympathy for the violent course of struggle, which served to reinforce Fatah’s normative legitimacy. A few years later, this normative accomplishment, which emerged directly from Fatah’s actions, brought the organization broad political recognition of its own, thus marking its transition into the next institutional phase. In the meantime, however, Fatah would have to settle for incremental gains. A signifi-

cant increase in the number of raids followed Nasser’s request that Syria open up its borders to al-Asifa’s operations, although the raids remained rigorously coordinated with the Syrian security forces. As before, Syria had no intention of facilitating any Palestinian course of action other than violent struggle, and even within this operational framework Fatah (not unlike the Syrian-sponsored PLF) was not given much freedom of action.” Fatah, for its part, relied upon Syrian aid by default. Underlying its dependence on Syria was the organization’s institutional deficiency, which obligated it to search for assistance where it could be found. Yet for Fatah, which aspired to retain its freedom

of political choice, this situational determinant generated a fundamental and persistent strategic dilemma. Obviously, external backing confined the organization’s scope of action within the limits set by the sponsoring state. Moreover, Palestinian and particularly Fatah’s military inferiority rendered aspirations to advance the Palestinian cause by the violent strategy alone, without the backing or active inter-

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The Second Institutional Phase, 1965-1967

vention of a conventional military power, seem impractical if not extremely fantastic. Thus, external support was primarily sought as means of a possible breakthrough into public consciousness. And in any case, Fatah’s leading nucleus appeared to be fully aware of the wholly self-interested nature of their relations, and of the fact that in more than one sense, the assistance provided by Damascus to the armed struggle was unrelated to the Palestinian cause. At the same time, links were established between Fatah and third party Arab states (1.e., those not bordering on Israel) and private figures, which collectively constituted the beginnings of a network of political support for the organization. At first, this support materialized as the provision of logistical means, necessary for organizational consolidation and for the execution of strategic directives. Following the onset of the armed struggle, money and arms began to flow into the organization’s coffers from wealthy Kuwaiti citizens, as well as from Saudi sources close to the ruling family. These resources, though limited, were important because they allowed the organization some freedom of action, independent of Syrian control. The support provided to Fatah by the revolutionary regime of the Algerian FLN, which began in 1963 well before the organization embarked on the violent struggle, was particularly significant. Algeria was not a substantial regional power. Due to its limited financial resources it could not provide Fatah with extensive logistical support, and due to its geographical position, could never become a base for operations inside Israel. Thus, in the years following, other countries, occasionally voluntarily but in any case generally reluctantly, would assume the role of major sponsors or operational bases. Even so, when Fatah modeled itself after the FLN in its struggle for national independ ence, Algeria responded in kind. Arafat visited Algiers in 1963, and Algeria was the first state to provide logistical aid to Fatah. This aid came with relatively few strings attached: Algeria’s sole condition was that Fatah confine its operatio ns to within Israel’s borders. Moreover, Algeria recognized the organization as a political actor in its own right, and allowed it to open representative offices in Algiers. The first shipments of arms, which were delivered to Fatah via Damascus, were sent from Algeria in 1965. The Algerian authorities also provided work permits to Palestinians in exchange for contributions to Fatah from their salaries. Thus, Algeria constituted Fatah’s first breakthrough in the field of political legitimacy. However , as of late 1966, when Fatah’s raids increased in volume, Algeria curtailed its assistance to the organization.” Also meaningful in terms of Fatah’s political institu tionalization was its network of relations with other countries. In early 1964, Khalil al-Wazir was included in a delegation of Algerian officials to the People’s Republic of China, and in March of that year both Wazir and Arafat visited Beijing. Soon after, Fatah opened an office there. Contacts between Fatah and North Korea, as well as with the North Vietnamese Vietcong followed, enlarging Fatah’s burgeoning network of political links. While the logistical benefits stemming from these contact s in the coming years would prove slender, they remained significant in terms of political prestige. In Israel, the perception

of the threat associated

with the Palestinian

violent struggle crystallized only several years after Fatah began to make its strategic scheme publicly known, and several months after the organi zation’s first cross-border raid.26 The first raids were met with disdain and even indifference, perhaps because they did not target strategic military installations and becaus e total casualty rates were rather low. In addition, the Israeli government took note of the guarded reaction coming from

Ag

Coming to the Surface

the Arab regimes to the raids, which seemed to indicate that they favored an end to this unauthorized militancy.”” However, as the raids intensified, Israeli policy changed. Israel began employing defensive measures to preempt cross-border attacks and to defend settlements along the armistice lines. Retaliatory attacks were initiated as well, intended to compel the Jordanian authorities to take measures against the Palestinian resistance and to seal the borders against infiltrations. The aggressive response to the raids was unequivocally embraced by the Israeli public and became rapidly institutionalized as the standard mode of operation. The policy of retaliation served the Syrian interests quite well. Despite the role played by Damascus in carrying out the raids, which was no secret to the Israeli authorities, Syria did not constitute a target for retaliatory strikes, neither initially nor for some time thereafter. As a result, Syria paid no direct price for its support of the crossborder operations. Instead, Israeli strikes were primarily directed at Jordan, and the threat of unrest there was a goal the Syrian authorities had sought in any case. Israeli attacks against Syria itself only began in the summer of 1966, when escalating crossborder attacks from the Syrian border made such a move unavoidable. In the first half of 1967, rates of cross-border attacks had nearly doubled, attesting to Syria’s decision not to adhere to the directives of theUAC and the Arab League to curb Fatah’s operational capabilities. By mid-1967, the cycle of raids and retaliatory attacks had already become a focal dimension of regional escalation. Events steadily advanced to the allout confrontation, the June 1967 war, which stimulated a situational shift and spurred Fatah’s subsequent move into its next institutional phase.

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The Third Institutional Phase, 1967-1968 Violent Mobilization in Action

The June 1967 War The mounting numbers of infiltrations heightened the tension along the Israel—Syria and Israel_Jordan borders and forced Nasser to choose between a militant stand and a loss of credibility. He ultimately chose the first option, which brought with it the ostensible commitment to advance the Palestinian agenda. To be sure, his endorsement of confrontational policies did not only stem from the conflict with Israel. It was also enhanced by concurrent developments on the global scene, as well as inter-Arab dynamics that threatened to frustrate Egypt’s quest for regional primacy. The fall of several non-aligned leaders intensified Nasser’s concern over Western, particularly American-based determination to bring about radical, non-ali gned regimes. His sense of alarm was aggravated by the growing rift between Cairo and Riyadh — the latter openly challenging Egypt’s primacy by convening a conferen ce ofconservative Islamic States; the alienation of the United States and Britain from Cairo, along with their mounting support for Saudi Arabia: and the rapproc hement between Saudi Arabia and Jordan. Jordan, in addition to relentless efforts to delegitimize the PLO, also turned to Washington for military aid. In reaction, Nasser resorted to an intensified campaign of delegitimization against conservative Arab regimes, particularly attacking the Jordanian monarch. The king was accused by Damascus and Cairo of betraying the Arab cause by hindering the Palestinian struggle. Nasser thus resorted to defensive aggression. In April 1967 it became increasingly clear that Cairo was no longer able to continue postponing a war until Arab forces were unified under Egyptian leadership and ready to confront Israel. In May Nasser concentrated troops in Sinai, threatening to actual ize his pledge to defend Syria against Israeli aggression. Under pressure exerted by the US and the USSR, the immediate war plans were set aside. However, speeches delivered by Nasser during this month and the declaration of the Straits of Tiran closed to Israeli shipping attested to his conviction that war against Israel had become unavoidable. ! Egyptian interests and political constraints notwi thstanding, genuine belief as well as Organizational self-esteem led Fatah to claim the credit for the outbreak of the Six

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Day War.’ Certainly since 1965, and especially from 1966 onward, raids by al-Asifa considerably added to regional tension. However, given the historical roots, longevity, and complexity of the Israeli-Arab conflict, it would be wrong to view the diplomatic and military hostilities that preceded the war exclusively as outcomes of cross-border raids by Fatah. It appears that more than anything else, just like in the period that preceded the war of October 1956, authorized and unauthorized cross-border raids reflected a collision of Arab and Israeli interests and ideologies that was significantly aggravated by inter-Arab rivalries. Moreover, Fatah was never a solitary actor on the scene. In addition to Fatah and other popular organizations,? Syria itself played a major if not decisive role in inciting the dynamic of raids and counter-raids that eventually culminated in the outbreak of the war. Still, the institutional gains that Fatah attained in the pre-war years could not be entirely ignored. By dint of sheer operational persistence, the organization became progressively identified with the notion of the Palestinian popular struggle, an idea that had become increasingly acknowledged in its own right: by 1965, some forty Palestinian organizations with similar agendas had already formed.* These developments could not be overlooked by Arab regimes. Hence, while its crystallization provoked firm, sometimes hostile counteraction, Fatah also enjoyed state sponsorship and even incipient political legitimacy. The war broke out on June 5, 1967, with a large-scale Israeli air strike against the Egyptian air force. Jordan joined the war, motivated by considerations related to the stability of the regime and the monarchy’s status in the Arab world. A ceasefire was declared following six days of fierce fighting, during which the Israeli army dealt a spectacular blow to the Arab forces and conquered the Egyptian-ruled Gaza Strip and Sinai Desert, the Jordanian-ruled West Bank, and the Syrian-ruled Golan Heights. The June 1967 war marked the beginning ofa new phase in the history of the Middle East. One of its outstanding consequences was the transformation of the Palestinian element into an independent, clearly defined actor in the regional political sphere. Furthermore, the military outcomes of the war reinforced Fatah’s strategic and political standing, and enhanced its institutionalization as the spokesman for Palestinian-related issues and thus as a prominent component of regional politics. Fatah’s own normative and political credentials had achieved the requisite ripeness to address the challenge that faced all the organizations that comprised the Palestinian resistance movement in the aftermath of the war.* These ramifications, however, would only fully unfold over several years. In the meantime, the political and territorial conse-

quences of the war marked the end to Fatah’s second institutional phase and the beginning ofits third institutional phase, featuring mounting emphasis on the normative pillar of legitimacy.

Modes of Action Armed struggle is the only way to liberate Palestine. Thus it is the overall strategy, not merely a tactical phase.°

The outcome of the 1967 war undermined Fatah’s strategic designs that had been articulated by the organization’s leading nucleus. Modeled after the Algerian and 45

The Third Institutional Phase, 1967-1968

Vietnamese revolutionary struggles, the organization’s strategy focused on the idea of a popular war of liberation. At the same time, the role of conventional war was not entirely absent from this conceptualization. Thus, the leaders of the resistance organizations, and particularly Fatah’s founding nucleus, saw themselves as “spoilers” — seeking to provoke a military confrontation between Israel and the Arab armies, with the expectation that such confrontations would ultimately benefit the Palestinian national cause. However, the spectacular Arab defeat of 1967 discredited this approach, and generated the necessity for a strategic realignment of ends to means. Fatah’s decision to embark on a revolutionary popular struggle in the West Bank and Gaza Strip constituted the organization’s strategic readjustment to the fresh territorial and political state of affairs. Attempting to rationalize the newly established situation, Fatah’s leaders interpreted the post-1967 developments as an outstanding opportunity. Israel’s occupation of densely populated territories and the operational and human resources that would be needed to maintain them appeared to enhance this perception.’ In terms of Fatah’s original doctrine, the new situation appeared to suit a move into the phase dealing with “Formation of the Revolutionary Organization,” which was intended to focus on mobilizing and coordinating broad popular support for the vanguard forces. However, transformation of the territorial outcomes of the war into an opportunity was also certainly mediated by the perception of an emerging threat. The military defeat and loss of land shifted the focus of the conflict from the territory of pre-1967 Israel to the newly occupied West Bank and Gaza Strip, which was tantamount to tabling the question of Israel’s very legitimacy. Leaders of the resistance movement were alarmed by the emerging possibility that Arab regimes would strive to regain the territories occupied in 1967, dropping claims vis-d-vis the territory of Israel per se. The maxim of reversing “all traces of [Israeli] aggression,” which was coined initially by Nasser in his post-war resignation speech of June 9, 1967 and subsequen tly institutionalized as the strategic banner of the Arab states, could be interprete d in two contrasting manners: Israel’s post-1948/pre-1967 borders, or its post-1967 borders.’ This question was already evident in the summit that convened in late August 1967 in Khartoum, where participating states were divided concerning the territorial meaning of the status quo ante. For their part, Egypt and Jordan, which in light of the consequences of the war came to share a common interest. interpreted the status quo ante in terms of the pre-1967 situation.? Nasser even went so far as to pledge that his goal was the regaining of Egyptian (as opposed to Arab) territories. Shuqairy, who demanded that the goal of “reversing all traces of aggression” refer to pre-1948, left the summit in protest. In addition, the summit participants were divided on how to advance the fight against Israel. While Syria — which did not take part in the meeting — and Algeria favored popular revolutionary struggle, Egypt strongly advocat ed a strategy of conventional confrontation with Israel and promoted a pragmat ic approach that combined economic, diplomatic, and military courses of action. Thus, although the summit unanimously adopted a policy of “three no’s — no negotiation, no recognition, and no peace with Israel,” the possibility of future negotia tions between Arab states and Israel could not be entirely ruled out, since inter-A rab friction appeared — in fact, had proven to be — capable of weakening the restraining power of accords reached in unanimity.

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Furthermore, UN Security Council Resolution (UNSCR) 242 was adopted on November 22, 1967. Reflecting the Johnson administration’s wish to prevent the new situation from becoming a pretext for enhanced Soviet involvement in the region, it proposed an exchange of land for regional peace, essentially implying that Israel would be recognized in return for withdrawal from the territories occupied in 1967.'° Resolution 242 also addressed the Palestinian issue as a dilemma of refugees, circumventing any reference to Palestinian self-determination. Hence, Fatah’s post-1967 institutional phase featured a new emphasis, if not urgency, on the armed struggle. Implementation of armed struggle was designed as much to frustrate the threat that the post-war environment had spawned and preclude a possibility that Arab leaders would conclude an agreement with Israel, de facto recognizing its pre-1967 borders, as it was meant to offer an alternative for deficient Arab military capabilities. Concomitantly, the organization opened up to its environmental periphery, in an effort to utilize already attained normative support and to mobilize further popular sympathy. Within this strategic framework, however, armed struggle in theory and practice was not only a means to mobilize normative legitimacy. Instead, it was institutionalized as an end in its own right.

The First Stage: Struggle in the Territories Some two weeks after the war ended, the Fatah leadership assembled in Damascus. Several participants contended that any decision on future courses of action be postponed until the situation became clearer. The majority, though, demanded that the armed struggle be launched immediately inside the occupied territories. Reluctant to face organizational disintegration, Fatah members nominated Arafat as commander of the forces in the territories, thereby endorsing his activist, ambitious approach to the struggle. Overall, the decisions made at this conference touched on the issues of the military course of action and the imperative of acquiring the political backing of Arab governments. The need to institutionalize on a normative pillar of legitimacy and establish a popular base of support for the struggle was in fact bypassed in the context of the formal deliberations. Facts were quickly established on the ground. By the end of June 1967, the organization announced that it had transferred its headquarters to the occupied territories. Preparations for setting up an operational infrastructure were made, including the establishment of underground networks. These actions testified to Fatah’s inclination toward self-reliant popular war, and resulted in a deterioration of relations between

the organization and the Syrian authorities. However, until October 1967, when Nasser began to support Fatah’s action in the territories, Syria remained Fatah’s main source of logistical assistance. Additional proponents of Fatah’s revolutionary design were Algeria, Libya, and Saudi Arabia. The latter pledged to assist the organization financially, as long as it refrained from intervening in the monarchy’s internal affairs." Controversy within Fatah further touched upon issues of modus operandi. Members debated whether to try and organize large-scale operations, which would require considerable cooperation on the part of the local population, or settle for smallscale attacks, at least for some transitional period. Largely due to situational exigencies, the latter approach prevailed and was presented as an interim stage devoted

47

The Third Institutional Phase, 1967-1968

to mobilizing and coordinating an eventual popular uprising. Several hundred operatives who arrived in the territories from Syria established themselves in villages throughout the West Bank. They organized in small cells, and their activities were coordinated by three newly formed regional commands. Centrally-appointed agents called upon the population to revolt, but political indoctrination did not determine the focus of action, since it was assumed that mobilization of the populace would be accomplished by the practice of the armed struggle itself. Interestingly, the Gaza Strip was not included in Fatah’s operational design: its populace was not considered prepared for an uprising. In late August 1967, Fatah began implementing its plan to incite a popular uprising in the territories. Other organizations perpetrated assaults as well, albeit on a limited scale.'* The attacks, primarily against civilian targets, numbered up to twenty incidents per month until the end of the year. Fatah cells were sternly regulated, and commanders exercised full control over all activities. Unwilling to alienate the population, the organization’s leadership instructed restraint to avoid provoking Israeli collective punishment for which the organization would be held responsible. Hence the cells largely refrained from military action inside villages and towns that constituted their strongholds.'* Nonetheless, within weeks, due to counterattacks by the Israeli security forces, the cells were forced to withdraw from populated centers and search for sanctuary in the countryside. The Israeli authorities moved swiftly, initiating a security crackdown. An elaborate intelligence network was established throughout the occupied territories, agents infiltrated cells, and hundreds of operatives were arrested» Most of the cells were dismantled. Punitive measures included demolition of houses belonging to supporter s of the operatives, as well as the deportation of prominent figures who refused to cooperate with the authorities.'* Seeking to widen the existing gap between the revolutionary forces and the population, the authorities practiced a selective policy, generally confining counteractions to cores of insurgency. Concurrently, efforts were made to restore normalization of civilian and economic life in the territories . To that end, the Israeli administration sought to establish working relations with the West Bank leadership, which traditionally had been loyal to Jordan and otherwise apolitical and municipally oriented.'5 With the advent of the revolutionary struggle, Fatah’s leadership was optimistic, trusting that the goal of initiating a popular war would be successf ully accomplished. This hope was nurtured by the tide of enrollment that swept through Palestinian students in Europe. Hundreds joined training camps in Algeria before leaving for Syria on their way to the territories. Dwelling upon lessons from other popular uprisings, leaders anticipated that Israeli counteraction would serve to instigate a widespread popular rebellion. Instead, however, the consequences of the war drove the population into a state of shock, and created a political vacuum that Fatah could not fill. In effect, Fatah’s institutional deficiencies did much to determine the abortion of this revolutionary stage, as the organization had not mastered the degrees of normative, regulative, and political legitimacy that were crucial for accomplishing an ambitious objective such as leading a popular uprising. The Israeli counteraction, for its part, aggravated the situation by forcefully frustrating any opportunity for institutional potential to materialize. Armed assaults provoked countermeasures that inflicted significant blows on the organization, further reducing the prospects of involving the

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population at large with the struggle. Moreover, the organization’s operatives who had entered the occupied territories from other countries were unknown to the local residents. Their revolutionary ideas, which were modeled after people’s wars in other parts of the world, were also alien. While the normative legitimacy the operatives mustered could thus not be completely dismissed, it nevertheless was insufficient to instigate widespread insurrection. Furthermore, the notion of self-reliant struggle contradicted widely accepted inclinations toward pan-Arab themes. The local constituency, for the most part, expected termination of the occupation to be dictated by Arab states or by the international community. The sense of Palestinian collectivity was not institutionalized sufficiently to suggest eventual compensation, in national terms, for the personal and collective grievances that could be anticipated in the wake of a full-scale insurrection. By mid-1968 a revised formula was articulated, focusing on the strategy of a protracted popular war and designed to be conducted not only by the Palestinian people in the occupied territories, but rather by the Arab masses from the Arab homeland as a whole. This modified formula broadened and developed Fatah’s concept of “the people’s war.” It was meant to address the constraints then limiting the conduct of the struggle and to increase its human and territorial resources. In essence, it constituted an elaborated version of the original logic of using insurgent violence to entangle Arab armies in a war against Israel. However, instead of seeking to engage Arab conventional armies in a striking war of liberation, which in light of the consequences of the June war appeared both infeasible and ineffectual, now the organization advocated a struggle to be perpetrated by the Arab masses as a whole.'® Evidently, the failure of the revolutionary war in the territories brought this institutional necessity to the fore. In the meantime, however, no mechanisms of mobilizing mass normative and political legitimacy were devised. The awareness of the need to complement “propaganda by the deed”!’ with more politically oriented persuasion, while it appeared to legitimize future strategic shifts, did not immediately translate into realignment of ends and means. Fatah’s strategic program remained essentially confrontational. The armed struggle preserved its place at the core of the strategy, and its role changed only in terms of the interim goal it was intended to accomplish: preventing Arab states from exploring the possibility of a negotiated settlement with Israel. Incremental exhaustion of Israel’s perseverance and economic resources by gaining limited, tactical successes constituted a related goal. In any event, recognition that promises for the remote future, however attractive, were not enough to enroll the Palestinian populace in the organization’s risky and allegedly adventurous design rendered inevitable the construction of mobilizing messages in terms of immediate rewards. Incentives to members were also meant to prevent their enrollment in competing organizations. The late 1960s witnessed a proliferation of resistance organizations. This multiplication reflected intra-Palestinian disunity, as well as inter-Arab competition for regional dominance. Facing the normative drive that appeared to generate and accompany the proliferation of resistance organizations, Arab states followed the momentum. Several states created their own organizations or sponsored already existing ones. The accumulation of organizations, coupled with states’ interference in Palestinian politics, enhanced a dynamic of rivalry, competition, mergers, and splits.

The array of Palestinian resistance factions seemed to fall into three major clusters, 49

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The Third Institutional Phase, 1967-1968

distinguished by respective emphases on the various institutional pillars and their associated courses of action; ideological guidelines; and political and logistical dependence on a given sponsoring state. Fatah led the larger cluster, which also comprised additional, smaller groups. This cluster organized under the banner of “independent decision-making” and opposed outside interference in its political and operative decisions by Arab states. The corollary of the equation was its intention to avoid interference in their internal decisions. Endorsing such a policy of non-interference was meant to allow Fatah a maximum degree of pragmatism in its relations with different Arab states, regardless of their political inclination. Any potential state supporter was evaluated purely in terms of how it could enhance Fatah’s institutional interests. This was facilitated by Fatah’s adoption of a vague ideological fusion of Palestinia n

nationalism, Arab nationalism, and regionalist themes. As to its ultimate goal, Fatah

sought to establish an independent state in the whole of liberated Palestine. The social content of that state was not specified, and its nature was referred to only in obscure terms of secularism and democracy.!* The underlying logic was that as long as the Palestinian people could not implement any social agenda, due to the lack of territorial and political integrity, there was no room for articulating a binding social plan. There were of course Fatah members who adhered to specific ideological lines. However, throughout the years the leadership as a whole strove to present a noncommitted stance. Apparently, the reluctance to articulate a social platform and the guiding theme of the national unified front were closely interrelat ed: both were expected to broaden the organization’s regulative and normative bases of legitimacy. The means to the goal were elaborated explicitly in the emphasis on armed struggle, but the goal itself was a patchwork of populist, inclusive terminolo gy. The absence of a specific social platform would not only enhance national unity, regardless of ideological differences, but increase freedom of decision-making as well. Another cluster comprised groups that, ideological nuances notwithstanding, advocated a socialist revolution throughout the Middle East and viewed the conflict as one that involved class struggle. Hence liberation of Palesti ne was presented as an interim stage toward the liberation of Arab peoples from “reactionary” rule. Such leftwing groups featured a stern organizational structure, and became known for their elitist approach toward the masses. They remained relatively small, and perceived themselves primarily as revolutionary spearheads. Most influential among these were two subsets that originated from the ANM: George Habash’s Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine (PFLP), and the Democratic Front for the Liberation of Palestine (DFLP), led by Nayif Hawatmeh, which itself split off from the PFLP. These organizations eventually became the core of the opposit ion to Fatah.!° The third cluster comprised state-sponsored organi zations that subordinated the Palestinian national cause to the pan-Arab vision, and did not seek to establish large popular bases for themselves. This group included the Syrian-sponsored Saiga, Jibril’s Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine — General Command (PFLP-GC), and the Iraqi-sponsored Arab Liberation Front (ALF) .” Until the late 1960s, the PLO itself could well have been counted among the state-sponsored organizations, since it lacked substantial normative support and its politic al legitimacy at this time essentially derived from its association with Cairo. Fatah’s institutional deficiencies, inasmuch as they failed to advance the uprising

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in the territories, determined its search for other courses of action. While cross-border raids against Israel were resumed, Fatah also embarked upon consolidation of norma-

tive and political supplements to its regulative core. This shift toward reliance on normative legitimacy was not conducted in a political vacuum, and Fatah, notwithstanding its institutional deficiencies at the time, was better prepared to mobilize a broad popular base for itself than were other organizations. This institutional development was also manifested in the territorial dimension as well, in the augmentation of existing operational bases in countries bordering Israel, particularly Jordan and Lebanon. The large population of Palestinian exiles living in these countries, the great majority of them refugees, was considered to offer a promising constituency for mobilization. The move to Jordan and Lebanon was presented by Fatah’s leadership as part of the people’s war campaign and was accompanied by an explicit demand that Arab regimes provide sanctuary and a logistical stronghold for its cadres. In light of the political circumstances that prevailed in the region at the time, Jordan and Lebanon were the only territorial options available. Both Syria and Israel were out of the question, if the organization wished to maintain a degree of autonomous action.

The Second Stage: A Stronghold in Jordan By October 1967, Fatah had already resumed its cross-border raids, testifying to its failure to foment an uprising in the territories. Arafat moved to Jordan, as did the cells that survived Israeli reprisals, where they joined existing strongholds. At that time, Fatah’s regulative core numbered about 700 men who were concentrated in the Jordan Valley, from Salt in the south to Irbid in the north. The Hashemite kingdom appeared to be the immediate, if not the ultimate, substitute for the territories occupied in 1967. Its proximity to the territories, the long border it shared with Israel, and its large Palestinian population were all expected to facilitate organizational consolidation and operational deployment.' A desire to forestall Jordan’s alleged willingness to regain the West Bank by negotiation with Israel generated the need to escalate the situation along the border with Israel.?? Concurrently, the spectacular failure of the Jordanian armed forces in the June war suggested that it was incapable of standing in Fatah’s way. Hence, Jordan appeared to be a promising site for advancing Fatah’s three primary goals: continuation of the violent struggle, frustrating any prospects of negotiated agreements with Israel, and mobilization of popular support. At the initial stage of its Jordanian phase, Fatah did not challenge the Hashemite regime overtly. Freedom of organization and coordination for action, in addition to a Jordanian commitment to refrain from attempting to reach a negotiated settlement with Israel, were Fatah’s basic prerequisites for its own commitment to refrain from acts that might threaten the regime. Yet confrontation between Fatah and the Hashemite authorities was inevitable, since the establishment of operational bases in

the country rendered the implementation of a non-interference policy infeasible, if not logically inconceivable. In retrospect, it can be argued that tensions between Fatah and the Jordanian regime escalated because the organization successfully accomplished its primary plan: to institutionalize regulative and normative bases on Jordanian soil. These objectives could not materialize without manifestly threatening the stability of the host country. 51

The Third Institutional Phase, 1967-1968

A mix of threats, opportunities, and institutional transformation marked Fatah’s process of consolidation in Jordan. On the one hand, Fatah’s Jordanian saga was the story of a predictable crisis. Yet the same organizational qualities and developments that produced the climax eventually proved extremely salutary for the organization’s goals of reconstruction and further buildup. In fact, Fatah’s subsequent institutional phase was marked by an intensive drive to transform Jordanian territory into an organizational base in its own right. From late 1967 to late 1970, Fatah exerted profound efforts to promote the intertwined objectives of organizational and popular consolidation on the East Bank of the Jordan River. It set up bases and operational headquarters in densely populated refugee camps, and its presence increased in towns and cities, including Amman. The largest base was established in the Jordan Valley, in the village of Karamah. Fatah officials managed civil needs in these villages and their neighboring population centers, managing the supply of all public utilities. Training and coordination for military action, supported by Syria, Egypt, China, Iraq, and Algeria, included handling of

arms, tactics of urban warfare, and political education.*? Advanced

courses

were

carried out in Egypt and Algeria, and a few delegations were sent to China and North Korea for special training. By late 1969, Fatah, along with a number of other Palestinian organizations, built its own core of instructors, comprising operatives who had been trained abroad and had operational experience in the occupied territories. Subsequently, training could be conducted on Jordanian soil. From these new bases, which over time became ex-territorial areas almost entirely controlled by Fatah or other smaller organizations, saboteurs were sent across the Jordan River to launch hit-and-run raids against Israeli targets. The infiltrating units carried out ambushes, mining, and bombing attacks not far from the border, and retreated back to their bases, avoiding direct confrontation with the Israeli security forces whenever possible. During the period 1967-70, Jordan constituted the main point of departure for armed attacks, though some were also carried out from southern Lebanon and the Golan Heights as well.* In response to the intensification ofthe cross-border campaign, the IDF intensified its counteraction, implementing defensive and offensive measure s that made infiltration more and more complicated. The border was fortified and reinforced with mines and tripwires, from the Dead Sea in the south to the Beisan (Beit She’an) Valley in the north. IDF forces ambushed units that managed to cross the border, and the ensuing battles generated a transitory decline in the scope of infiltra tion attempts. Ground forces were used to pursue infiltrating units back to their strongh olds across the river. Beginning in November 1967, Israel also started using air power to retaliate against Jordanian positions. On the whole, the Israeli policy was designed to prevent losses, boost domestic public morale, and compel the Jordanian regime to curb the guerrillas’ activities. The retaliatory attacks led Palestinian units to abando n their strongholds along frontier areas. Alternative bases were established in densely populated centers inside Jordan, and the operatives were reorganized in small cells that moved around the country. The tactical dimension of the struggle also underwent changes, and instead of ground raids Fatah embarked upon massive cross-border shelling. At times, Jordanian artillery accompanied the firing, and provided cover for the escape of Palestinian units to their Jordanian bases.

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The assistance given to the guerrillas by the Jordanian army, however sporadic, attested to the weakness of the Hashemite monarchy and to the challenges that appeared to be arising from within, against the backdrop of the increasing power of the resistance in the country. On the one hand, the regime was under pressure to support the guerrillas, in light of the increasing popular sympathy for their struggle in the Arab world. On the other, the extra-territorial features of the organizations’ infra-

structures and activities appeared to threaten the stability of the regime. Hence, the government made efforts to restrain the armed struggle, arresting operatives and detaining arms. The escalation along the border threatened to frustrate the king’s strategic effort to reach a negotiated settlement with Israel through the secret contacts he maintained at the time. In more immediate terms, the king was particularly concerned with challenges to the domestic order and the economic damage that was inflicted by Israeli reprisals. By late 1967, it became evident that Israeli reprisals were a factor in the growing strife between the Jordanian regime and the resistance organizations. As they would for many years to come, Israeli military reprisals inflicted massive human and material damage on the resistance movement. However, Israel’s firm reprisal policy also stimulated popular sympathy for the resistance, which the organizations quickly translated into institutional opportunities. On one particular occasion, at the battle that took place between Israeli security forces and Fatah near the Jordanian town of Karamah, the ability to turn a threat into an opportunity was clearly demonstrated.

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The Fourth Institutional Phase, 1968-1970 Regulative Challenges, Political Opportunities

The Battle of Karamah and Regulative Reorganization On March 21, 1968 Israel carried out a large-scale attack against the resistance stronghold in Karamah. The raid was in reprisal for a bombing attack three days earlier on the road from Tel Aviv to the Negev. For a full day, the IDF fought against Jordanian and Fatah forces, driving the guerrillas away from the stronghold.' For Israel, this was merely one operation among many, and not a particularly successful one at that: the battle did not bring the cross-border struggle to a halt, nor were its tactical objectives met.? Fatah was able to restore its operational capabilities within a short period of time, and the violent struggle continued and even intensified. As a result, Israeli forces crossed the Jordan River more frequently in pursuit of operatives. To protect their bases, Fatah moved its forces as far as it could from the reach of Israeli ground forces. Training camps were transferred to the town of Salt, on the road from Karamah to Amman, and to the slopes of Moab and Edom Heights. Fatah, as well as other resistance organizations, were now equipped with better and heavier weapons, obtained from Egypt, Iraq, and Syria. The shelling campaign intensified in response to the intensification of Israeli air reprisals. These tactical alterations. specifically the use of heavier arms and the construction of fortified strongholds, lent the resistance organizations features reminiscent of a full-fledged popular army.* Acceleration of the armed struggle was largely motivated by competition among the various resistance organizations for prestige and predominance. In fact, in the postKaramah era, inter-organizational rivalries became a focal determinant of the manner in which the resistance institutionalized. These rivalries were essentially tied to improvements in the various organizations’ regulative and normative positions following their expansion. That the resistance organizations had faced down the Israeli enemy, even inflicting losses on Israeli security personnel, thrust the movement as a whole into a celebrated spotlight. This in turn propelled many resistance organizati ons

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Regulative Challenges, Political Opportunities

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but especially Fatah into a new institutional reality. The enhanced normative legitimacy of the resistance was manifested in the waves of new recruits that enlisted into the ranks of the various organizations. Regulative transformations followed so as to enable coordination and mobilization in these new and seemingly improved circumstances. The growth of the resistance following Karamah, though not immediately evident, pushed the various organizations into a new phase, where they increasingly engaged in the politics as well as the practice of armed struggle. This shift was most pronounced in Fatah. Enrollment in Fatah appeared to be the default choice for many, for the same reasons that had made it the largest and strongest of the resistance organizations long before the battle: the organization’s operational record, its non-committed ideological platform, and its firm infrastructure. By late 1966 Fatah’s membership was estimated at around 500. Within a few days after Karamah, about 5,000 volunteers enlisted with the organization. By 1970,

its total membership was estimated at 25,000, of whom some 10,000 were qualified guerrillas — roughly 70 percent of the entire resistance ranks.‘ The massive influx of volunteers suited Fatah’s post-1967 concept of a mass popular struggle, and the organization responded to the new situation swiftly, if not smoothly. At first, its regulative core was not prepared for the thousands who joined its ranks. Shortages of experienced instructors damaged the quality of training. Punishment for insubordination was harsh, and cases of desertion began to be reported. By the following year, as the organization increasingly adjusted to the expansion requirements, the situation improved. The level of training rose, resulting in escalated cross-border action and fewer casualties.° Notably, however, not all the organizational features that emerged in the postKaramah era were directly associated with the practice of violent struggle. Rather, as the organization adjusted to the requirements of the expansion, greater emphasis was placed on communal and administrative projects. Members were involved in a range of organizational activities, ranging from the violent struggle to administrative work and the donation of money. The organization established its own medical facilities, including hospitals and clinics, and set up schools, emphasizing conventional subjects as well as revolutionary indoctrination. Also significant was the increasing involvement of women and children in the organization’s activities. They participated in violent actions, but for the most part their roles were educational and logistical. Fatah established a youth organization, Ashbal (“tiger cub”), which recruited boys ages ten

to fifteen. This sub-unit, which became active in refugee camps outside Jordan as well, was intended to serve as Fatah’s operational reserve. In terms of Fatah’s strategic theory, popular affiliation with the organization and the establishment of a normative base of legitimacy was essentially a means to facilitate and intensify the violent struggle. In practice, however, as of the immediate aftermath of the battle of Karamah, normatively-based popular affiliation through engagement in communal projects acquired a purpose of its own. Moreover, the violent course of action and the consolidation of a popular base of support were mutually constructive since the organization’s regulative legitimacy enhanced its normatively-based pillar and vice versa. Addressing the challenges in coordination, authority, and control that were posed by expanded membership and affiliation, Fatah further elaborated its regulative pillar of legitimacy, developing a structured division of labor that became the

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The Fourth Institutional Phase, 1968-1970

organization’s standard device of operation. A hierarchical array of councils, committees, and cells was established. The cells, which were set up in refugee camps, universities, and among workers, were linked to the echelons above by a network of committees. Regional committees governed all activities at the political, social, and military levels. The Central Committee, which in theory was supposed to be elected by the PNC, was the organization’s supreme managerial echelon. In practice, members of the Central Committee were at times elected and at other times appointed. Below it was the Revolutionary Council, which included representatives from the various regional committees and from the Military Council. Those years also saw the establishment of regional and functional executive departments. Regional departments, or “sectors,” were established according to the geographical boundaries of mandatory Palestine. Among the regional units was the Western sector, which took care of political and military activities west of the Jordan River. Functional departments included Information, Intelligence, Mobilization. and Organization, Supply, Finances, and Foreign Affairs.°

Inasmuch as numerical expansion enhanced Fatah’s institutionalization process, it also sowed the seeds of flux and disintegration. New members, for the most part, came from the lower middle class or were of peasantry background. Membership was also highly fluid — cadres would join, stay with the organization for a while, and then leave. This inspired the formulation of obligatory rules of membership. No less problematic was translating the official hierarchy of decision-making authority into practice. A number of dilemmas also stemmed from the organization’s geographical distribution: within a year after the battle of Karamah, there were branches of Fatah in about eighty countries.’ Necessities of secrecy and mobility rendered cells and units relatively selfcontained. The structural division, coupled with political division, enhanced decentralization. In this period of accelerated growth, power politics became a focal determinant of intra-organizational relations. Fatah’s leadership was never entirely unified, and since the organization’s inception, policy and decision-making had involved controversy and debate. The proliferation of functional sub-units, branches, and unofficial cliques turned the organization into an arena characterized by political contest rather than a cohesive association. To be sure, internal power conflicts were quite common in other Palestinian organizations as well, and almost invariably, such conflicts featured inclinations toward structural and political divisions. Against this backdrop, coalitions formed and dissolved both within and among organizations. Thus, Fatah’s internal conflicts were no testimony to any particular constraints in creating organizational unity. At the same time, the intensity and persistence of Fatah’s intra-organizational disputes were clearly an outgrowth of the organization’s structural complexities that followed from the rapid expansion. Post-Karamah internal disputes tended to center around three foci. At the leadership level, disagreements pertained to relations with the Arab states in general and with Jordan in particular. At the lower echelons ofthe leadership hierarchy, disagreem ents arose Over execution ofthe violent strategy. A third, if predictable, source of disagreement was the “generation gap” that formed between lower-level operatives on one hand and the senior echelons on the other. Operational personnel, by and large associated with the organization’s younger generation, chafed increasingly under the traditional leadership, complaining against its centralist authority. In institutional

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Regulative Challenges, Political Opportunities terms, the expansion of the organization’s normative base of legitimacy seemed to challenge its regulative base.

Taking Over the PLO The Palestinian national movement as a whole faced a rupture along the same lines as those that threatened Fatah. The resistance organizations disagreed among themselves on definitions of goals and means, as well as on the costs and benefits of Arab state

sponsorship. No doubt intra-organizational conflicts, as well as the persistent tug-ofwar between the various resistance organizations on the one hand and the PLO’s pretensions to supremacy as a unifying “umbrella” forum on the other, were largely exacerbated by inter-generational tensions. Conversely, since the resistance organizations, most prominently Fatah, competed with the PLO over the same sources of normative and political legitimacy, the mounting popularity of Fatah necessarily undermined the PLO’s own institutionalization process. The policies adopted by Arab leaders at the Khartoum summit of August 1967 did not bode well for the Palestinian national cause and significantly lowered Palestinians’ expectations that Arab leaders would give their particular agenda much prominence within the context of their individual strategies and relentless contest for regional power. At the same time, however, support for the popular struggle against Israel was presented and legitimated as a substitute, or rather a face-saving alternative, to war against Israel. The popular sympathy for the violent struggle translated into operational opportunities for the resistance, which in turn served to consolidate the organizations’ regulative legitimacy. These operational opportunities substantiated the resistance’s claim for representation in Arab decision-making and the demand for political legitimacy. Furthermore, the resistance’s increased significance in the regional sphere echoed its growing influence on the Palestinian political scene, which enabled Fatah’s takeover of the PLO. The increasing support for the resistance by various regional players, particularly Egypt, dramatized the political dead end facing the PLO and enhanced power struggles within the organization. Disputes focused on strategic, tactical, and financial issues, as well as on continuity of political and military leadership.’ Shuqairy, chairman of the PLO, was harshly criticized by several members of the organization’s Executive Committee, who sought explicitly to bring about his removal. Political maneuvers resulted in Shugairy’s withdrawal from office in December 1967. Yahya Hammouda was appointed acting chairman until the intra-organizational power struggles could be

settled. Following the June war, Fatah itself embarked upon intensive efforts to mobilize political support and to subsume the resistance under its leadership. From its vantage, “now that we had improved our relations with the Arab regimes, we could turn our

attention to the PLO.”’ Though Fatah’s drive toward normative and political acceptance was not universally supported in the organization, with several Fatah leaders fearing a takeover of the PLO would produce bureaucratization and constrain its ability to carry on with the armed struggle, the majority of the leading echelon supported the goal of transforming the PLO into an umbrella organization for the resistance. Leaders traveled between Arab capitals, establishing relations with state

57

The Fourth Institutional Phase, 1968-1970

leaders and government officials. Shuqairy responded with an attempt to establish a new coordinating command for the resistance organizations. In January 1968 Fatah held a conference of armed factions in Cairo, aiming at unifying the movement under its leadership.'° At the fourth session of the PNC, which convened in Cairo in July 1968, the PLO charter was amended to reflect the rising status of the resistance organizations. New articles that were added to the charter emphasized armed struggle as the sole means of struggle toward national self-determination and sovereignty: Article 9 specifically declared the armed struggle “the overall strategy, not merely a tactical phase.””!! The PFLP and the PLA boycotted the next session of the PNC, which convened in Cairo in February 1969. At the same time, the ranks of the resistance organizations, reinforced by Sa’iqa, were able to earn fifty-seven seats out of a total of 105.!2 This majority secured Fatah’s taking over the PLO. Arafat, Fatah’s official spokesman, was nomi-

nated as chairman of the PLO’s fifteen-member Executive Committee, and other Fatah members gained key positions on the Committee. The same session adopted Fatah’s vision of establishing a secular and democratic state in Palestine, transforming this into the official goal of the PLO as a whole." The mounting prestige of the resistance, by now officially represented by the PLO under the leadership of Fatah, was clearly demonstrated in the inter-Arab sphere at the Rabat summit, which convened at Nasser’s initiative in December 1969.'4 Nasser’s

call for the summit was backed by the PLO, which specifically requested that Arab states reach a decision on upgrading military and economic aid to the resistance and demanded control over the allocation of financial aid. Endeavoring to augment the PLO’s political status, Arafat called upon the Arab states to establish formal relations with the organization. At the summit, Nasser faced a choice between going to war against Israel — as demanded by the radical camp — or dropping his request for increased financial aid from the rich Gulf monarchies. Nasser argued that the increased financial assistance was required for further military buildup to make the war option an efficient tool for imposing an acceptable political settlement on Israel. The summit, in any case, ended with no agreement on a unified military strategy, and indeed without any concluding resolution at all, reflecting Nasser’s indecisive policy as well as his declining status. At the same time, the participants reiterated their unwavering support for the Palestinian struggle. The PLO was also among the regional players who were to enjoy increased financial aid. Taking over the PLO significantly accelerated Fatah’s process of institutionalization and constituted a translation of already achieved regulative and normative gains into a major political accomplishment. Recognizing the rising normative legitimacy of the resistance, the Arab states endorsed the changes in the PLO’s leadership and granted Fatah the recognition previously enjoyed by the PLO’s former leadership . In early 1968, for example, King Faisal of Saudi Arabia pledged to enforce collection of a “liberation tax” from Palestinians working in the country.'° At about the same time, Cairo became a major source of support for the organization. As of May 1968, Fatah could broadcast daily over Radio Cairo. In July 1968, Arafat accompanied Nasser on a trip to Moscow, and Nasser engaged in efforts to integrate the various resistance organizations into the framework of the PLO. PLO offices were establishe d in Arab capitals, and Nasser encouraged Third World and Eastern bloc countries to recognize the organization. Official delegations of Fatah visited China, North Vietnam, and

58

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Cuba, reinforcing the organization’s affiliation, and indeed that of the PLO as a whole, to the socialist bloc.!* This was not to say that Fatah’s position was entirely without challenge. The political legitimacy that was incrementally gained by the PLO was far from sufficient to counterbalance the centrifugal tendencies that were present in the organization itself and the resistance movement as a whole. In July 1969, endeavoring to secure its regulative legitimacy and reinforce the strategy of armed struggle, Fatah set up a new coordinating structure — the Palestine Armed Struggle Command (PASC)."” The joint command comprised representatives of Fatah, the PLO (as a supra-organizational organization), the DFLP, and organizational formations sponsored by Arab states, including the PLA, Sa’iqa, and the ALF. PASC was specifically designed to restrain the proliferation of new organizations and curb the inclination toward carrying out armed attacks in an unauthorized fashion. There was no doubt that repeated instances of independent action that was not affiliated with the PLO, particularly on the part of the PFLP, undermined Fatah’s institutional authority. Such actions plainly attested to Fatah’s limited ability to impose its will on other organizations and further aggravated the strained relations between the resistance movement and the Jordanian regime, enhancing the risk of a confrontation between the two.

Losing the Jordanian Sanctuary The fundamental conflict between the fedayeen and the Jordanian host regime was dramatically accentuated by the organizations’ own provocative conduct. After the battle of Karamah, as the organizations underwent an accelerated process of growth, their presence became increasingly felt in population centers. Geographical expansion throughout Jordan resulted from the need to protect cadres and headquarters from Israeli reprisals, but also reflected the mounting self-confidence of the resistance organizations. Weapons appeared on the streets and were occasionally used in instigating shows of force. Reflecting on this period, Salah Khalaf accused the regime of inciting tension, yet placed part of the blame on the resistance as well: Although we tried to appeal to the entire population without regard to national origin, we tended to neglect the Jordanians in favor of the Palestinians. Proud of their force and exploits, the fedayeen often displayed a sense of superiority, sometimes even arrogance, without taking into consideration the sensitivities or interests of the native Jordanians. Still more serious was their attitude toward the Jordanian army, which they treated more as an enemy than as a potential ally.'®

Attempting to curb the rise of organized Palestinian power in the country, the Jordanian government demanded that offices in the main cities be closed, and placed

a ban on military vehicles in population centers. In mid-October 1968, the organizations’ leaderships were asked to bar the entry of cadres to the kingdom who had not obtained official permission.'? The government’s demands, however, were not answered, and related negotiations between the regime and the organizations led nowhere. In November 1968, the Jordanian army attacked Fatah and PFLP strongholds. The resistance organizations responded by setting up civilian militias in Palestinian refugee camps, marking the beginnings of a Palestinian “state within a state” inside Jordan.

59

The Fourth Institutional Phase, 1968-1970

Tension between the regime and the guerrillas formed the backdrop for Fatah’s decision to set up yet another authoritative structure — the Unified Command of the Palestinian Resistance (UCPR). For several months in early 1970, it appeared that the UCPR was on its way to becoming a unifying, inter-organizational disciplinary authority. In addition to its intra-Palestinian field of responsibility, the UCPR was also responsible for negotiating between the resistance and the regime. Its policies were determined by Fatah’s wish to regulate activities, and thus prevent the seemingly imminent confrontation from erupting. Still, cooperation among the various organizations within the UCPR was partial at best, reflecting a common concern that the Jordanian army would enforce the government’s restrictions on the resistance movements and not recognize Fatah’s political and military prevalence. Against this backdrop, violations of Fatah’s authority, particularly by the PFLP, intensified the rapidly approaching showdown. The PFLP, together with the DFLP and PFLP-GC; challenged Fatah’s bid for control, and conspired to break up the Unified Command. These organizations, their self-confidence enhanced by the backing of the Syrian and Iraqi regimes, sought to bring the violent struggle to a stage that would, in light of expected Israeli retaliations, destabilize the Hashemite regime. Fatah addressed this challenge by fortifying the regulative mechanisms of authority at its disposal. At the seventh PNC. which convened in Amman in May 1970, PASC was dissolved and replaced by a new formation — the Central Committee of the Palestinian Resistance (CCPR). It was only then that the PFLP entered the PLO. In theory, the CCPR, which included all PLO member groups, was authorized to expel any group that defied its policies and regulations. The CCPR was placed under the aegis of the PNC and under the authority of a specially created politburo, which included representatives of six different organizations, among them the PLO and PFLP. Inter-organizational differences, however, persisted within the framework of this coordinating formation, as the PFLP insisted on the formulation of a radical platform that Fatah opposed.”° The second half of 1970 was marked by a countdown toward open strife. In June 1970, clashes initiated by the left-wing organizations ushered in an intensified period of confrontation between the resistance and Jordanian forces, marking a new level in the ever-escalating crisis. Backed by Libya and Egypt, Fatah engaged in a series of urgent negotiations aimed at mitigating tensions. An accord was reached in early July, specifying new terms for accommodation and stressing Palestinian respect for Jordanian sovereignty as a prerequisite for future relations.2! The accord completely ignored a PFLP demand that personal and structural changes be made in the Jordanian security forces that were involved in clashes with the Palestinian resistance. Concurrent developments in the regional sphere were also inauspicious for the Palestinian struggle. During July-August 1970, President Nasser, King Hussein, and the Israeli government, following previous unsuccessful initiatives, accepted an American-Soviet initiative to end the War of Attrition, which had waged since 1969 along the Suez Canal and the Israeli-Jordanian border.22 Formulated by William Rogers, secretary of state in the Nixon administration, it was principal ly intended to curb the growing risk that the war — and the active role assumed by the Soviets — would culminate in a global standoff. The initiative was one ina series of American proposals for a solution to the Middle East conflict, and part of a comprehe nsive attempt to resolve pockets of regional tension that could flare up into confront ations between the

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Regulative Challenges, Political Opportunities

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superpowers. This specific plan, which implicitly declared Jordan as a Jordanian—Palestinian state, constituted a subtle step toward eventual Arab-Israeli negotiations, and as such it was rejected by “frontline” or “confrontation” Arab states. It was also met with stinging denunciation by Palestinian organizations, with the exception of certain small pro-Nasserite groups. In late August the plan was authoritatively rejected by an emergency session of the PNC. The Fatah-dominated Central Committee of the PLO, for its part, openly called for the overthrow of the Hashemite monarchy.* Rejection of the Rogers plan, however, was not a solid enough basis to ensure inter-organizational cooperation and agreement on lesser, ongoing matters. The PFLP utilized King Hussein’s endorsement of the plan as a pretext for intensifying efforts to destabilize the monarchy, in plain violation of the terms of compromise that had been reached between Fatah and the Hashemite regime. On September 6, 1970, the PFLP carried out simultaneous hijackings of Swissair, Pan Am, BOAC, and TWA airplanes. The Pan Am jet landed in Cairo and the hostages were released. The other three were held with all their passengers in Zarqa, Jordan. The affair dragged on for two full weeks, in blatant transgression of Jordanian sovereignty (and, for that matter, in defiance of Fatah and the PLO

authority as well).** On

September 16, Amman Radio announced the establishment of a military government, in response to the resistance’s declaration of a “people’s government” in the town of Irbid in north Jordan.” A day later, the army, largely comprised of Bedouin servicemen loyal to the king, launched a major offensive against Palestinian population centers and organizational strongholds in and around Amman. Jordan entered a short, fierce period of civil war.

Even at this late stage, cooperation among resistance organizations proved elusive. As could be expected, the Jordanian military had the upper hand. A ceasefire was announced on September 24, after the army completed its crackdown on resistance strongholds.*° The confrontation resulted in thousands of casualties. Although the Palestinian enclave was not abolished in its entirety, both Fatah and the Palestinian armed resistance as a whole suffered a major institutional as well as logistical setback.’ The decline in the resistance’s political power was not instantly apparent. Throughout the fight, Jordan faced a direct threat from Syrian forces, which moved to destabilize the monarchy further. However, Syrian forces withdrew on September 22, following clashes with the Jordanian army and an Israeli show of force on behalf of Jordan. Also contributing to this was pressure exerted by the US on the Soviet Union to bring about the retreat of the Syrian force. In the wake of the confrontation, King Hussein, by then openly working to annihilate the power ofthe resistance organizations, found himself isolated against a broad Arab front. Several days after the fighting began Nasser transferred military aid to the retreating forces of the PLO organizations, while most other Arab states condemned the Jordanian military offensive. In a summit convened in Cairo on September 22, the king was pressured, under Nasser’s direction, to accept a new understanding that sanctioned an organized Palestinian presence in the country. The agreement, signed between Jordan and the PLO on September 27, affirmed Jordanian sovereignty, yet recognized that the REO: despite the battering that it had suffered, was still an undeniable political force.** But while the agreement reflected an attempt to reconcile between the conflicting themes of Arab nationalism and state sovereignty, it did not serve to mitigate the fundamental

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The Fourth Institutional Phase, 1968-1970

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clash of interests between the Fatah-led PLO (and the resistance as a whole) and the Jordanian state. In defiance of the accord, subsequent weeks were marked by persistent, well-organized moves by the Jordanian establishment to end the Palestinian presence in the country. Fatah, for its part, worked to negotiate terms of accommodation and to defuse the conflict, thus allowing for rehabilitation of the movement’s position. In this vein, in October 1970 the PLO signed three memoranda on the presence of the resistance organizations in Jordan. Fatah also continued to work toward a unified command of the various Palestinian resistance forces, one that would put an end to persistent power rivalries within the PLA and curb the plans of the leftist organizations to overthrow the king. Yet the crisis did not foster inter-organizational unity — contests for dominance were on the rise while the organizations were collectively losing ground in the wake of Jordanian actions against them. The organizations were not even unified concerning the question of whether the PLO should continue to negotiate with the king.” The internal weaknesses of the resistance organizations only encouraged the king to ignore Arab calls to ease the pressure and persist in his efforts to evict their military and political infrastructures from Jordan. To this was added Nasser’s sudden death on September 28; his passing meant the loss of the greatest — if not the only, given Syria’s military constraints — power in the Arab world that could prevent the king from turning full force against the remains of the resistance. As in the pre-crisis era, Jordan’s pretext for assaulting the resistance was supplied by the PFLP, which claimed responsibility for a number of attacks that were in defiance of regulations issued by both Fatah and the government. The army evicted Palestinian fighting units from their strongholds in towns and in the countryside. Even attacks against Israel from the Jordan Valley were prohibited. Fighters were concentrated in a relatively small area between Jerash and Ajlun, and their supply lines from Syria were cut. A full-scale offensive against this enclave was launched in June, and the next month the government announced the final eviction of the resistance organizations from the area. Futile attempts by Egypt and Saudi Arabia to mediate between the resistance and the regime were followed by the closure of the PLO office in Amman in August 1971, along with the offices of Fatah, the Palestinian Red Crescent, and other organizations. In all,

between

3,000 and 5,000 members

of resistance organizations

were expelled from

Jordan; most moved to Lebanon.*’ In effect, no independent Palestinian activity remained in Jordan. This chapter of the resistance history thus ended with the combination of normative strength on the one hand and regulative and political weakness on the other. The conflict between Jordan and the Fatah-led resistance moveme nt was brought to a head by the very processes ofinstitutionalization that were taking place within the Palestinian organizations, especially in the area of normative support. However, the specific timing of the confrontation was determined by Fatah’s deficient regulative power — by its inability to control the practice of armed action by other organizations, which resulted in the crackdown against them all. Following the expansion ofthe resistance movement in the post-Karamah period, and particularly following the takeover of the PLO, Fatah was increasingly preoccupied with inter-or ganizational power politics. The organization’s successive attempts to establis h authority over the geographically and organizationally fragmented units were meant to address challenges to its self-proclaimed leadership. In this light, bodies like PASC, the UCPR, and

62

Regulative Challenges, Political Opportunities

the CCPR

were designated to fill the legitimacy gap and institutionalize Fatah’s

control over the Palestinian political framework as a whole.*! Indeed, there were some

signs that they were beginning to succeed: by August 1970 inter-organizational communication and coordinative mechanisms appeared to be more effective and defined than before Fatah’s takeover of the PLO. Yet inter-organizational boundaries remained clearly delineated and detrimental to Fatah’s authoritative power, ultimately becoming the major ingredient in the eventual showdown with the Hashemite kingdom. This is not to say that further institutionalization of Fatah and strengthening ofits status among the various resistance organizations could have prevented the 1970 confrontation. On the contrary: it appears that further institutionalization of Fatah in the Palestinian and the regional spheres would have elicited harsh reactions in any event on the part of the Jordanian regime, which would deem its sovereignty progressively more challenged. Indeed, the events of September 1970 and the 1971 aftermath of the civil war clearly demonstrated the degree to which acceptance of the Palestinian organizations’ presence in Jordan had been conditional. The Jordanian regime had met none of the understandings that were formulated to create the terms for a stable relationship with Fatah. The comprehensive anti-resistance campaign initiated by Jordan almost immediately after signing the September 1970 agreement indicated that the regime had already decided to eliminate all traces of armed Palestinian presence in the country. To be sure, both sides had transgressed the ceasefire agreements, but it was apparent that while Palestinian forces were receding, the army increasingly used local incidents as pretexts for further pressure until the final eviction took place. The confrontation also constituted a test of Fatah’s regional position. The very fact of the showdown and its ramifications — the comprehensive elimination of the resistance’s organized infrastructure from Jordan — was indicative of a lack of political legitimacy. The anti-Palestinian crackdown would not have been possible had the Arab states been willing to extend their support for the Palestinians beyond the declarative sphere. Thus the weakness of the Palestinian organizations was revealed for all to see. This was particularly devastating for Fatah’s institutional status, since it was precisely in the political sphere that the organization had the most to lose.

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The Fifth Institutional Phase, 1971-1973 Reconstruction

Lebanon, once the quietest of Israel’s borders, constituted an auspicious institutional setting for the same reasons that had rendered Jordan attractive some years earlier. Like Jordan, Lebanon shares a long border with Israel — a politico-geographical fact that made it a preferred sphere for the armed struggle. For the resistance organizations themselves, the sympathy they enjoyed among Lebanon’s Palestinian refugees, who had lived without citizenship rights in Lebanon since 1947-48, was also a favorable asset.' Hence, the refugee camps in the country held the promise of fertile ground for both regulative and normative legitimization. The working infrastructure that had been established in the 1950s in Beirut by various Palestinian factions simplified organizational buildup over the following decade, further substantiating Lebanon as a territorial substitute for the loss of the Jordanian sanctuary. In addition, the Lebanese arena featured a number of attractions in its own right. Among them was the political disintegration of the Lebanese state in the late 1960s and the first half of the 1970s, which simplified the process of organizational formation for the resistance and to a certain degree protected against major external threats. Fatah’s decision to transfer its bases to Lebanon was made in the wake of the crisis that engulfed the Palestinian resistance in its entirety. The regulative infrastructure was

destabilized; the loss of thousands of operatives called for a reorganiz ation of combat

units. Fatah was also rife with internal disputes on goals and means, accelerate d by the traumatic events of 1970-71. Related disagreements continued to be a stumbling block for the Palestinian national movement as a whole, and were therefore a major challenge to Fatah’s bid to inter-organizational ascendance. The position taken by the Arab states during the crisis in Jordan reflected Fatah’s political weakness both as an organization in its own right and as the erstwhile leader of the resistance movement. This reality left Fatah’s leadership in the position of having to reconstitute its external relations from a position of weakness. On top of this, the organizations had to find an alternative territori al haven that would allow for both the amendment of its administrative core and its coordination of various courses of action. The resistance organizations had received ample confirmation of their inability to advance a qualified process of institut ionalization in Jordan,

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Reconstruction

in the Israeli-ruled West Bank and Gaza Strip, or across the Syrian border.? Lebanon, which prior to the expulsion from Jordan had been a lesser alternative, appeared as the only feasible option and became a primary institutional sphere. Thus, in September 1971, Fatah’s Central Committee decided to reinforce its bases in Lebanon “quantitatively and qualitatively, so as to launch anti-Israeli guerrilla activities from the south [of the country].”* Herein commenced Fatah’s fifth institutional phase, in which the organization’s mobilization and coordination efforts concentrated, for the most part, in and around the Lebanese stronghold. On the whole, the institutionalization of Fatah in Lebanon was marked by increasingly clear integration between the organization’s regulative and normative bases of legitimacy.

Regulative Mobilization, Political Gains By the late 1960s, the establishment of Palestinian bases in Lebanon was significantly encouraged by the decline of the administrative, political, and financial control of the

government over the country’s hinterland. The institutionalization process of the Palestinian resistance in Lebanon was backed by local opposition elements — Muslim, Druse, and left-wing groups, which represented the disadvantaged segments of society that opposed the political supremacy of the Lebanese Maronite elite.t Yet another encouraging factor was tacit Arab backing for the increase of anti-Israeli activity across the Lebanese border, notwithstanding the inevitably destabilizing impact of the resistance on Lebanon’s frail political framework. Aware ofthe challenge that the institutionalization of the resistance would pose to the central government and in an attempt to fend off counterpressures, Fatah sought to establish relations with as many local political factions as possible. Naturally, the increasing association between Fatah (or for that matter, other Palestinian resistance groups) and the indigenous Lebanese opposition, coupled with the mobilizing effect of the armed struggle against Israel, aggravated tensions between the organization and the government. The Lebanese government’s concern over the mounting power of the resistance increased in 1968 as constraints on the execution of acts of armed struggle from Jordan resulted in large numbers of Palestinian activists being deployed in the southern region of Lebanon. The expansion of such ranks reinforced the organizations’ social and educational infrastructures in Lebanon’s Palestinian refugee camps. Still, it was the resistance’s regulative institutionalization and its promotion of the violent struggle as its chosen course of action, rather than the organization’s normative and political establishments, that ultimately precipitated a confrontation between resistance organizations and other anti-government forces and the government of Lebanon. As in Jordan, it was the acts of other resistance organizations, and not those of Fatah itself, that triggered a series of skirmishes between Palestinian resistance forces and the Lebanese armed forces. In December 1968, Israel carried out an airborne attack against Beirut’s international airport, destroying thirteen Lebanese airliners on the ground. The Israeli operation was staged in retaliation for escalations in crossborder armed attacks, and was specifically provoked by the November 27 bombing of El Al’s Athens office by the PFLP. The Israeli reprisal attested to the destabilizing potential of Palestinian-related politics in Lebanon’s domestic setting, which would escalate significantly in the coming years. Public criticism against the government and

65

The Fifth Institutional Phase, 1971-1973

the army, due to their inability to prevent the Israeli attack, led to the resignation of Prime Minister Abdullah al-Yafi. His successor, Rashid Karami, stepped down in

April 1969 under pressure from the army and against the backdrop of demonstrations in support of the Palestinian resistance that had swept the streets of Beirut, and was replaced by Nur al-Din al-Rifa’i. The coming weeks saw repeated armed clashes between the army and Palestinian resistance forces and supporters. The concurrent intensification of cross-border activity was most prominent in the area of ‘Arqub, in the southeastern corner of Lebanon (an area that would later become known as “Fatahland”). The escalation led to Israeli warnings that it would implement its legitimate right to secure peace along its northern border if the Lebanese government failed to do so, and Israeli counterattacks inside Lebanon increased accordingly.* The Lebanese army, for its part, stepped up its own anti-resistance campaign, and clashes between supporters of the organizations and the Lebanese army erupted throughout the country. Occasionally, Fatah and Syrian-backed Sa’iga units assaulted Lebanese army outposts directly. International reactions to the accelerating conflict attested to the declining position of the Lebanese government and, correspondingly, to the rising political position of the resistance. The Soviet Union warned against external intervention in support of the government; Israel demonstrated apparent indifference. The Arab states, for their part, declared their support for the resistance. As in Jordan, Nasser arbitrated a ceasefire and an agreement between the government and the resistance was signed on November 3, 1969 and ratified the next day by the Lebanese parliament. The agreement, which formally legitimized the presence of organized Palestinian forces in Lebanon, paved the way for their further entrenchment in the country.° Thus while the Lebanese version of the Cairo agreement constituted an attempt to limit the Palestinian organizations, the agreement granted Palestinians residing in Lebanon civil rights and permission to carry out acts of armed struggle against Israel, albeit within the limits of Lebanese sovereignty. It also provided for the lifting of governmental control over the refugee camps. Hence, the agreement proved to be yet further testimony of the resistance’s ability to translate regulative and normative legitimacy into political gains, and to transform the political legitimacy back into operational opportunities. Free from subordination to the army’s Deuxieme Bureau, which since 1948 had regulated Palestinian life, the camps effectively became autonomous Palestinian areas. Popular committees of the Fatah-led PLO earned the right to administ er daily life in the camps. In coordination with the army, PASC was permitte d to carry out the armed struggle against Israel from ‘Arqub. Fatah’s superiority in the Palestinian political sphere was clearly demonstrated by the nomination of a member of its central committee to head the joint Palestinian—Lebanese Higher Committ ee for Palestinian Affairs, which was designed to manage daily contacts between the various Palestinian resistance organizations and the Lebanese government. Consequently, all of the resistance organizations underw ent a rapid process of expansion. Palestinians as well as non-Palestinian support ers of the country’s opposition forces flocked to their ranks. Logistical support was transferred from various opposition forces, mainly left-wing parties. To this was added the assistance that many of these organizations received from Arab and commun ist States. Major suppliers of funds, arms, and ammunition were Syria, Egypt, Iraq, Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, Algeria, Libya, Sudan, and Morocco, as well as the USSR and the People’s Republic of China.’

66

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Reconstruction

While relations between Fatah and other resistance groups and various states were, for the most part ambivalent, and any logistical support tendered usually hinged on the acceptance of political proscriptions, on the whole the assistance was extremely beneficial to the organizations’ expansion and consolidation. The expansion entailed a realignment of ends and means in the form of a new balance between modes of action. Political, educational, and social projects increasingly governed the agenda of several organizations, and most clearly that of Fatah. However, the mounting preoccupation with administrative and social issues did not undermine the emphasis placed on the armed struggle. Particularly after the expulsion of the Palestinian resistance from Jordan, the perpetuation of the armed struggle from Lebanon constituted an obvious strategic choice.’ Against the backdrop of the setbacks that had been inflicted by the eviction from Jordan on the organizations’ regulative and political legitimacy pillars, perpetuation of the struggle against Israel appeared to be an institutional must: violence had become a sure mobilizing technique, and after all, it was what the cadres themselves had been recruited and trained for.

As in the post-Karamah era, the organizational expansion also signaled a degree of self-assurance that encouraged the resistance’s spectacular defiance of the Cairo agreement. Fatah and the PFLP were particularly dedicated to establishing military presences and conducting operations in and from non-designated areas. By the summer of 1969, cross-border activity expanded along the length of the Israel-Lebanon border. In early 1970, Israeli retaliation led to the flight of thousands of refugees from the southern part of the country, and spurred further attempts to restrict cross-border armed struggle. At the same time, however, the Lebanese infrastructure of the resistance was incrementally reinforced by the addition of cadres who were forced to leave Jordan.'° This evolution rendered compliance with the prerogatives of the Cairo agreement impracticable. Also, the perpetuation of the armed struggle entailed an inevitable departure from the declared principle of non-interference with the domestic affairs of the host state. Responding to the cross-border operations, which targeted Israeli communities in the northern Galilee and occasionally settlements in the Golan Heights as well, the Israeli army intensified its interdiction and reprisal campaign. A fence was constructed along the border, and by 1970 IDF raids into southern Lebanon had become a frequent occurrence. This dynamic placed the Lebanese government, not wishing to be regarded as having capitulated to Israeli pressure, in a problematic position. Tensions also increased between Palestinians and the Lebanese population, especially in the border area. This was the backdrop for attempts by the Lebanese army to compel Palestinian organizations to deploy north of the “Arqub area, which they had controlled since 1969, at a greater distance from the border."! The persistent violations of the Cairo agreement on the part of resistance organizations also generated pressure from within the government to amend the accord. But more than anything else, related moves testified to the rather futile efforts on the part of the government and the Lebanese political right to restrict the regulative consolidation of the resistance along the border.'? The right-wing National Bloc and the Phalanges Party (led by Pierre Jumayyil) called for cancellation of the agreement, pressure that led Arafat to suspend military activity against Israel from the border and withdraw the guerrillas from certain areas. He also reaffirmed the PLO’s responsibility for keeping other organizations in line.'* Related political maneuverings, however, as

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The Fifth Institutional Phase, 1971-1973

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well as the intensifying tension along the Israeli-Lebanese border, were somewhat overshadowed by the concurrent escalation in other spheres of the Arab-Israeli conflict: the ongoing War of Attrition that was raging along the Suez Canal and an upsurge of skirmishes along the Israeli-Syrian border. The scope of the armed struggle was largely determined by Israeli responses, and much less by the organization’s strategy and objective capabilities. By 1972, Israeli retaliatory policy combined with coercion by the Lebanese government and armed forces had managed to drive Palestinian forces away from the border. Consequently, the volume of cross-border raids and shelling decreased. Israel actually established a 10 kilometer-wide security zone north of the border. Resistance forces reorganized deeper inside Lebanon, and reverted to the use of mortar attacks, from ‘Arqub to the Mediterranean

coast,

over

the skies of southern

Lebanon.

At the same

time, it

appeared that the Fatah-dominated PLO, dwelling upon the bitter lesson learned in Jordan, resolved to try and avoid triggering yet another round of large-scale Israeli retaliations. The temporary reduction in the scope of armed struggle was utilized by the resistance for military buildup and reorganization. To a crucial degree, the enterprise was determined by the need to protect the cadres themselves and to defend Palestinian population centers against a possible recurrence of the Jordanian crisis. Thus, the early 1970s saw the addition of more traditional battlefield formations to Fatah’s existing military arms. Other organizations, which had initially emphasized clandestine action, followed suit and instituted their own paramilitary frameworks as well. Fortification of the force in and around Beirut, where the authorities maintained military superiority, was delayed. However in the south, the guerrillas still enjoyed relative freedom of action. Fatah’s forces in the south were organized into three brigades. Each was divided into artillery and infantry battalions, accompanied by logistical support units. The Yarmuk brigade, which had initially been based in Syria, was positioned south of Jezzin, in the eastern sector of southern Lebanon. The Karamah brigade deployed within an area delineated by the towns of Tyre, Sidon, and Nabatiyya, while the Castal

Brigade, the largest ofthe three, deployed in the area of ‘Arqub.'* The brigades incorporated previously stand-alone guerrilla units into their formations . The whole process, which undermined the status of certain commanders by bringing others to the fore, destabilized existing bases of power and provoked intra-organizational dissent and contention.'> In addition, the military consolidation included placing most units under the command of Fatah’s “central operations room” (i.e., under the command of Arafat), defining a clear balance of power between the organizati on’s military and civilian branches, and establishing the prevalence of the former over the latter.'*

Black September and Institutional Regression A remarkable institutional transformation took place during Fatah’s early Lebanese phase. This transformation featured a return to terrorism in the international arena by the Black September Organization (BSO), an offshoot of Fatah that was established solely for that purpose. Constituted in response to severe internal pressures, the estab-

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lishment of the BSO represented an intensified emphasis on violence in an effort to solidify the organization’s regulative core. Later, the violence assumed more sophisticated political objectives. Due to the spectacular nature of BSO’s violent campaign, it upstaged other mobilization efforts that were conducted by Fatah and fellow Palestinian resistance organizations at that time. BSO emerged in the immediate aftermath of the eviction from Jordan. Aside from conflict within its leadership, Fatah faced pressure from below to escalate the armed

struggle. More specifically, militant elements within Fatah charged that the organization should resist what they perceived to be the marginalization of the Palestinian issue in the context of regional politics through a concerted recourse to spectacular attacks that would traverse political and geographical boundaries. Others hesitated, fearing that engaging in blatant terrorism would harm the organization’s process of institutionalization and its ability to garner political recognition. A related debate, high on the agenda of the organization’s Damascus congress in August and September 1971, concerned the call by the younger generation to the Fatah leadership to authorize attacks in the international sphere. Members of Fatah’s founding core, who feared that barring such action would be perceived as a departure from the organization’s ideological and strategic obligations, supported the demand. In the compromise that resulted, the organization’s constitution was amended, allowing new members to join the Central Committee. In addition, the leadership encouraged an operational shift, authorizing the spillover of the violent struggle into the international arena, following in the footsteps of the PFLP, although in the tactical, not the ideological sense of the activity.'’ A special apparatus, ostensibly not associated with Fatah, was established for carrying out the attacks. Thus, BSO was an answer to intra-organizational inclination towards action, which

Fatah’s leadership could not ignore without jeopardizing the organization’s unity. Salah Khalaf explicitly illustrated this organizational development as a regulative measure that Fatah had agreed to adopt in extremis: “Unable to wage classic guerrilla warfare across Israel’s borders, [Fatah’s young men] insisted on carrying out a revolutionary violence of another kind, commonly known elsewhere as ‘terrorism’... . To keep the violence from taking an individualistic and anarchic form, there was no other way than to channel the wave of anger, to structure it and give it a political content.”"® Based on a strictly regulated foundation and focused exclusively on violent struggle, BSO embodied an institutional reversal that could have severely undercut other pillars of legitimacy and related mobilization campaigns. For this reason exactly, the leadership endeavored to keep BSO clandestine, and to dissociate itself from the faction and its deeds. At the same time, Fatah’s leaders occasionally admitted that BSO was comprised of “former” members of the organization. Several high-ranking officials, such as Salah Khalaf and Khalil al-Wazir, were implicated in its actions, and others expressed sympathetic understanding for its violent campaign.” In its initial phases, BSO appeared to be a mechanism of revenge.*” On November 28, 1971 the still unknown BSO claimed responsibility for the assassination of the Jordanian prime minister Wasfi al-Tall in Cairo. In the following years, attacks expanded to include Israeli, Arab, and Western targets. As opposed to guerrilla warfare against Israel within its borders, which was meant to arouse sympathetic awareness, BSO actions were intended to mobilize Palestinians only indirectly, by the very perpetuation of the struggle. More importantly, the assaults were designed to

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intimidate and thus to warn Arab and Western governments that excluding Palestinian rights from an eventual Middle East settlement would carry a price. Black September operated until October 1974. Its record included several dozen attacks, most of them against Israeli targets, and featured considerable geographical distribution, as well as remarkable tactical flexibility — ranging from letter bombs to airline hijackings and occupations of diplomatic facilities. Notwithstanding hints concerning the apparatus’ organizational affiliation and state sponsorship, its clandestine nature was preserved for years. Yet most significantly, the violent attacks remained indicative of Fatah’s inability to conduct the struggle according to its strategic imperatives.*! Its actions essentially constituted a means to enhance Fatah’s institutional interests, not by mobilizing political legitimacy for the organization itself, but rather by drawing international attention to the Palestinian cause. The violent struggle in the international sphere, whether by the PFLP, other radical groups, or the BSO, became a source of inspiration for radical organizations worldwide. However, the conduct of the struggle in arenas considered morally and politically illegitimate complemented by similarly unacceptable tactics largely eroded sympathy for the Palestinian cause. The attacks provoked harsh denunciation by governments and publics, most prominently in the West, where they were perceived as a manifestation of excessive zealotry. Although it is difficult to distinguish between the institutional effects of the violent struggle and the particular ramifications of international terrorism, it appears safe to argue that the “spectacular” quality of the latter cast a focus on the operational effects of Palestinian-related politics rather than on its underlying causes and motivations. This was particularly the case for the governments and publics of Israel, the US, and other Western states. International terrorism formed

a backdrop for the emergence of elaborate counterterrorism apparatuses around the globe. Challenged security administrations addressed related dilemmas by transforming traditional practices of domestic security.” The attacks also stimulated what Khalaf labeled a “shadow war” — a confrontation between the forces of “terrorism” and “anti-terrorism” in the form of Fatah and the Israeli security forces.?> Consequently, Fatah established a special apparatus of its own for internal security, known as Force 17. Still, it was not Israeli counteraction or international pressure that brought BSO operations to a halt, rather, the dramatic change in the political atmosphere surrounding Fatah and the Fatah-led PLO following the war of October 1973. Attacks that were perpetrated in the international arena by the BSO and other Palestinian organizations, coupled with Israel’s persistent retaliation policy, constituted yet another pretext for mounting tensions between the resistance and the Lebanese central government.” Three days after a BSO unit occupied the quarters of the Israeli delegation to the 1972 Olympic Games — an attack that was broadcast around the world and left eleven Israelis dead — Israel carried out an airborne attack against Syria and Lebanon. Further retaliations followed in the form of a ground raid deep into Lebanese territory. Arafat, who had considered a suspensio n of armed struggle from and along the Lebanese-Israeli border, now came under pressure to sustain the campaign. But determined to enforce the Cairo agreement , the Lebanese army managed to drive the resistance’s forces away from the border, at least temporarily. Against the backdrop of international terrorism and retaliat ory Israeli attacks across the Lebanese border, tensions in Lebanon reached a new level in April 1973.

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The Lebanese elite was particularly alarmed by the connection between sympathy for the Palestinian struggle and protest against the central government, and sought to annul the Cairo agreement. The situation escalated following a clash between the PFLP and the army, after which the government declared a state of emergency. The crisis spilled over to the regional sphere, as Arab ambassadors to Beirut endeavored to mediate a ceasefire. In order to prevent the confrontation from culminating in a decisive showdown, Arafat restated the pledge to halt attacks against Israel, and a ceasefire was declared in mid-May. However, the crisis ended in a manner that benefited Fatah’s position. During the fight the PLO gained a foothold in the Fakahani district of Beirut, and cadres arrived from Syria, significantly reinforcing Fatah’s ranks.*° These results were not reversed by the formal termination of the crisis.

Normative Compulsion The recurring operational setbacks that resulted from redeployment of forces away from

the Israeli-Lebanese

border,

as well as constraints

on executing the armed

struggle in other arenas, did not bring Fatah’s institutional evolution to a standstill. At no time was the armed struggle against Israel, from within Lebanon and across the international arena, brought to a total halt. Besides, armed struggle was not the sole mobilization mechanism tapped by the resistance organizations. Less dramatic yet much more substantive mobilization efforts that were designed to achieve long-term institutional rewards continued throughout those years in full force. The reconstruction of Fatah’s military potential constituted a focal point of regulative mobilization. Concurrently, the normative pillar of the organization’s legitimacy was reinforced by the constitution of an administrative and civil infrastructure throughout the country, most especially in the refugee camps. Thus, Fatah’s redeployment in Lebanon was marked by a growing focus on social practices. This development, which addressed the organization’s drive to preserve itself within a clearly disapproving environment, was enhanced by the special circumstances prevailing in the Lebanese sphere. In addition to the existence of a large Palestinian population in the country, the Lebanese state was experiencing social and political fragmentation that enabled new sub-national forces to evolve and consolidate their own institutional pillars. In an incremental and persistent process, the resistance organizations acquired control over the refugee camps in southern Lebanon and along the Mediterranean coast, and over the densely populated Palestinian neighborhoods of the western quarters of Beirut. Faced with declining control over the country and further constrained by the provisions of the Cairo agreement, the central government could not reverse this social entrenchment.

Fatah, whose

administrative

capacity

rendered it materially better off than other organizations, benefited most from this situation. More than any other organization, it was equipped to turn both formal rights (the Cairo agreement) and the growing chaos of its immediate environment into outstanding institutional opportunities. The resistance organizations, and Fatah chief among them, set up composite networks of administrative and social apparatuses in the camps. In institutional terms, this period saw the amalgamation of the PLO into a quasi-governmental structure. Large sums of money donated by the governments of Gulf states and by wealthy

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Palestinians from the Gulf, in addition to taxes raised by the organization, financed the establishment of courts of law, sport and social clubs, and medical clinics. The functional infrastructure, which like the PLO itself was dominated by Fatah’s members, included the Palestine National Fund, the Red Crescent Society for medical services, and the departments of Education, Information, Popular Mobilization, and the

Occupied Territories. Additional projects included a research center, a planning center, a social affairs institution, and the Samed Institute, which was initially established to

support the children of fighters who were killed in confrontations with Israel and later evolved into the most elaborate financial body of the PLO. Recruitment was conducted openly. The organizations also introduced changes to the curriculum of the UNRWArun schools, and involved students in paramilitary training. Students at all levels were exposed to progressive ideas, emphasizing self-reliance and activism. The atmosphere that had prevailed in the camps since their formation in the late 1940s changed fundamentally. The whole enterprise was perceived by resistance leaders to be a progressive step, if not a leap, toward the liberation of Palestine.” Still, the organizations did not solely rely upon normatively-based, voluntary support. Rather, in a trend already apparent during Fatah’s Jordanian days, cohesion increased between the organization’s regulative and normative bases of legitimacy. Notably, the association between the two institutional pillars was not counterweighted but rather hierarchical. Thus, the resistance’s Lebanese constitution enterprise featured an expanding tendency to fortify regulative mechanisms, effectively to embrace control over the normative base of legitimacy. Despite conspicuous manifestations of fragility — disarray in the ranks, beleaguering disunity, persistent power struggles, external constraints on the practice of the armed struggle, and the resulting failure to conduct an effective popular struggle for national liberation — Fatah appeared to be on an expanding institutional track. The eviction from Jordan entailed regulative setbacks, but it appeared that normative support for the organization was as solid as before the crisis. Fatah was the largest among the many organizations that collectively endowed the Palestinian diaspora with a sense of national identity. Its leadership was never unchallenged, yet it was the most favorably-positioned candidate to influence and govern in the Palestinian sphere.

Politics of Violent Mobilization From the perspective of organizational maturation, the overall picture appeared rather promising, despite Syria’s displeasure with the institutionalization course that both Fatah and the other relatively self-reliant organizations were taking. Syria never offered the resistance a territorial base for substantive mobilization of popular support and, while in principle endorsing the concept of popular war, dismissed the strategic benefits of violent struggle as seen from the perspective ofthe resistance organizations. Syria was particularly sensitive concerning the violent struggle when such action threatened its own interests, and thus closely monitored the execution of the armed struggle and kept it within clearly defined limits. For the most part, these limits precluded assaults from its territory, a guideline stressed again following the bloodless coup of November 1970, which catapulted General Hafez al-Asad to the presidency

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soon thereafter. This period also saw heightened tension along the Israeli-Syrian border, echoing the War of Attrition along the Suez Canal, although the clashes primarily involved Syrian regular forces, not resistance forces. Damascus plainly demonstrated its intent to frustrate the resistance’s enterprise of military buildup and also ordered the organizations to refrain from operations not approved by the army.” The Syrian-sponsored Sa’iga, which joined the armed struggle arena in 1968, was merely yet another center of power within the fragmented resistance that continually challenged Fatah’s position and its set of strategic priorities. Conditioning its support of Fatah and of other organizations on compliance with the particular interests of the sponsoring state was not unique to Syria, but Syria did not compensate Fatah for the constraints it imposed on the violent struggle or for the increasing price of this practice, as other sponsoring states did. In other words, support for the armed struggle was not counterbalanced by significant political opportunities. Such opportunities, however subtle and elusive, were embedded in Egypt’s conditional recognition of the resistance. Egypt’s attitude toward the resistance in general and Fatah in particular was manifestly ambivalent. Relations with left-wing fronts and other radical organizations were strained, due to their ideological incompatibility with Egypt’s pan-Arab vision and associated bid for regional dominance. Moreover, its comprehensive ban on the perpetration of armed struggle from Egyptian borders applied to all the organizations. In addition, Egypt did not share Fatah’s unequivocal negation of a possible settlement with Israel. At the same time, however, Egypt assisted Fatah in ways that were extremely conducive to its normative and political legitimization. And while Egypt was not the first to recognize Fatah, its backing served to legitimize support for the organization by other states in the region and beyond. Egypt’s assistance to the relatively moderate organizations, and particularly Fatah, included funds and intelligence information, as well as broadcast time over Radio Cairo. To be sure, the support was primarily intended to promote Egypt’s position in the inter-Arab sphere, and the institutionalization of the movement as a legitimate player on the regional scene was supposed to enhance this objective. This logic, which had motivated the establishment of the PLO, also underlay the idea hatched by Algeria and Tunisia with tacit Egyptian blessing at the 1969 Rabat summit to transform the PLO into a government-in-exile.** The idea was revived in 1972 by Anwar Sadat but was dismissed by Arafat, apparently fearful that any attempt to translate it into an organizational formation would undermine the institutional interests of the resistance and aggravate inter-organizational power struggles.” Yet against the backdrop of inter-Arab disputes and the use made by Arab leaders of the Palestinian cause as a legitimizing mechanism, Arafat’s differences with Sadat on this issue did not generate an open rift between Cairo and the PLO. In April 1972, King Hussein announced a plan for the establishment of aUnited Arab Kingdom on both banks ofthe River. This plan, which reflected Jordan’s claim to the West Bank and Gaza Strip and its insistence that the resistance not operate to and from its territory, led to a severing of diplomatic relations between Cairo and Amman. Seeking to further enfeeble the regional status of Hussein, Sadat announced

recognition of the “Palestinian resis-

tance,” i.e., the PLO, and accused Hussein of conspiring to deprive the Palestinians of the right to self-determination.*” Thus, Egypt’s backing was significantly conducive to the resistance’s institutionalization process in the region and beyond, notwithstanding the decline of Egypt’s regional status, manifested in the late 1960s and the early 1970s

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The Fifth Institutional Phase, 1971-1973

by the repeated failures of the Arab League and Arab summits to adopt policies in line with Cairo’s preferences. Egypt, however, was certainly not the only significant player in the sphere of Palestinian-related politics. Hence it could not impose inter-organizational cohesion nor could it determine the various factions’ courses of action. The internal fragmentation, encouraged by _ differential state sponsorship, challenged the institutionalization of the resistance in both regulative and political senses. Fatah, for its part, dedicated considerable efforts to bring rival organizations together into the framework of a single, legitimate decision-making structure. Managerial apparatuses associated with the PLO (including UCPR,

CCPR, and PASC) were designated to

preserve Fatah’s domination over the composite resistance movement and to translate its normative infrastructure into political recognition. Fatah also utilized various mechanisms of control, including patronage and sponsorship, essentially in order to erase any boundaries between itself and the PLO as a whole. On a recurring basis, the policies of the PLO actually reflected either Fatah’s own positions or hybrid compromises forged among the various organizations so as to secure a broad consensus, 1.€., an apparent “unified front.” When consensus was not reached, Fatah imposed its will on other organizations or acted unilaterally, presenting the move as a derivative of PLO policy. At the same time, the proliferation of bureaus and apparatuses within Fatah and the PLO helped sustain the fragmentation, and hence prevented consolidation of a power base that could compete over leadership. By late 1970, the heightened intra-organizational debates that preoccupied Fatah’s leadership in the aftermath of the Jordanian crisis began to subside, allowing for a shift of focus to an inter-organizational power contest. Despite opposition on the part of the PFLP, DFLP, PLA, and Sa’iga, Fatah succeeded in introducing changes to the composition of the PLO’s General Secretariat and to structure a new one that reflected its dominance. Still, issues of leadership and unification remained high on the agenda of the PNC, which held its eighth convention in Cairo in late February 1971. Fatah succeeded in fending off calls for a new leadership for the PLO, primarily voiced by the PLA and the PFLP, and convinced the delegates to settle for a general program of reorganization. Fatah also reached a temporary agreement on a division of labor with the PLA, whose commander was highly critical of Arafat’s leadership and blamed the Jordanian crisis on the lack of unified and professional regulation of the military forces. Also high on the agenda of the eighth PNC were issues of foreign policy, which, due to the composite structure of the PLO, became an arena for inter-or ganizational power struggles. The organizations were particularly preoccupied with two interrelated issues: relations with Jordan, and the unfolding idea of a Palestini an state in the West Bank and Gaza.*! The latter notion, as a solution to the Palestin ian predicament and especially to the problem of the territories occupied in 1967, had initially been raised in the aftermath of the Jordanian crisis from within the West Bank itself in response to the institutionalization of Israel’s rule over these territories.*?_ While several prominent figures in Fatah were ready to explore the idea, it was overwhelmingly dismissed by the organization’s leadership and by the PLO in its entirety as part of the encompassing refusal to discuss a Palestinian state on part of Palestine only. Referring to the idea, Arafat stated, “This is the most dangero us proposal that could be made. In the name of the Palestinian revolution, I hereby declare that we shall oppose the establishment of a state to the last member of the Palestinian people, for

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if ever such a state is established it will spell the end of the whole Palestinian cause.”

Obviously the establishment of a Palestinian rump state and even moves toward forming one were bound to imply the end of Fatah’s institutional enterprise. Concurrently, Egypt and Saudi Arabia pressured the PLO to come to terms with the

Jordanian monarchy. Arafat was in favor of the accommodating approach; however,

radicals inside Fatah, as well as the PFLP and DFLP, blocked the PLO from accept-

ing related conciliatory proposals.** The concluding statement of the eighth PNC underlined the national ties between Jordan and the Palestinian people, and therefore between the two banks of the Jordan River. Notably, King Hussein’s determination to put an end to a Palestinian military presence in Jordan served to enhance recognition of the need for a unified leadership and reduced opposition to Fatah’s authority. In the ninth meeting of the PNC in July 1971, the PFLP joined the formal institutions of the PLO. This did not mean that unification was genuinely enhanced and that internal and inter-organizational turbulence was over. A primary reason for the persistence ofinterPalestinian challenges to Fatah’s authority was the association between the dynamics of internal Palestinian politics and those of the inter-Arab arena. First and foremost, the fragmentation of the resistance movement, which both facilitated and nourished the tendency of different states to adopt rival and competing organizations, constantly undermined the normative and political logic of Fatah’s claim to regulative leadership and its derivative claim to sole representation of the Palestinian people. In other words, the institutionalization of Fatah’s leading position was affected by the Arab states’ interference in intra-Palestinian politics. In addition, since its earliest institutional phases, execution of the strategy of violent struggle was influenced by constraints imposed by states whose support Fatah sought to mobilize. Quite often, changes in the organization’s emphasis vis-d-vis the violent struggle, which had been made to secure the approval of some Arab state or another, generated condemnations alleging that Fatah had abandoned its guiding theme of freedom of action, and had deviated from its strategic directives. In the early 1970s, the resistance organizations remained essentially loyal both in theory and in practice to the strategic directives that were articulated in their formative, regulative phases. Thus, the political program, which concluded the eleventh PNC of January 1973, emphasized a pledge to “continue the battle and the armed struggle for the total liberation of the soil of the Palestinian homeland.”*> Nonetheless, the accelerated consolidation of Israeli rule over the West Bank and Gaza Strip generated an incipient shift ofinstitutional focus to the territories. Also, the PLO could not afford to disregard the political arena. Thus, the concurrently growing possibility of an Arab-Israeli negotiated settlement forced Fatah and other resistance organizations to address political issues on the regional agenda and to consider the impact of the violent mobilization on other manners of legitimization. Seeking to address Jordan’s claim to the West Bank, and also to be better equipped to coordinate the activities of the diverse factions operating in the territories, the eleventh PNC secretly resolved to constitute a new popular organization in the territories. This body —the Palestinian National Front (PNF) — issued its first communiqué

in August 1973, declaring an association with the PLO. This association, in addition to the sympathy and support the PNF rapidly gained among the inhabitants of the territories, generated Israeli efforts to impede its growth into a substantial political 75

The Fifth Institutional Phase, 1971-1973

factor.*° Nevertheless, this episode remained a telling indication of the changes of balance among modes and arenas of legitimization, which echoed the evolving possibility of an Arab-Israeli political settlement. In accordance with the growing exploration by Arab governments of details of suggested political settlements, the PNC conferences became increasingly preoccupied, in addition to dealing with the strategy of violent mobilization, with the politics of political mobilization. In the late 1960s and the early 1970s, the approach toward possible settlement plans was characterized primarily by attempts at either rejection or preemption. The following years, however, saw a gradual evolution of perspectives on suggested settlements to the conflict, and increased emphasis on political mobilization. The political approach was only implicitly legitimate, yet became distinct enough to indicate an evolving institutional transformation. Still, it was only after yet another situational shift — the war of October 1973 — that the transformation assumed a more defined shape.

The October 1973 War In the early 1970s, Israel embarked upon a campaign of civilian settlement in the West Bank and Gaza Strip. The future disposition of the occupied territories became the core of a debate between the consolidating right and left blocs of Israeli domestic politics. The publicly-declared goal of “secure and recognized borders” was wholly accepted, yet there was no agreement, even within the ruling Labor Party, as to what course was to be taken in order to translate this declarative policy into political reality.

The settlement drive, in any event, indicated there was no intention to restore the terri-

torial status quo ante, even in the context of an eventual peace agreement. The IDF was also engaged then in intensive counter-guerrilla activity, focusing on stronghold s of Palestinian organizations in the Gaza Strip, in Jordan, and inside Lebanon. The issue of terrorism, which touched upon the deepest individual and collective security concerns of Israel, overshadowed all other aspects of the conflict. As opposed to varying attitudes toward the settlement drive, the attitude of the Israeli public concerning the military campaign against the violent dimension of the Palestinian struggle was remarkably uniform. Concurrently, an Egyptian—Syrian war coalition was consolidating, motivated by Egypt’s resolve to destabilize the regional status quo by waging war against Israel, if no alternative options remained. And indeed, from Cairo’s perspective, war became inevitable — notwithstanding the evident inferiority of Egypt’s military capability as compared to Israel’s power — as the result ofthe apparent exhaust ion of Sadat’s efforts to initiate a political breakthrough that would bring the post-196 7 stalemate to an end. In early 1971, efforts to advance an Israeli-Egyptian interim settlement reached an impasse. The Israeli government refused to commit to going back to the borders of 1967 even in return for a peace agreement with Egypt that would be based, as stipulated by UNSCR 242, on the premise of the right of all states in the region to secure and recognized borders. In addition, Israel refused to endorse separate talks with Egypt, insisting that negotiations be held directly with all Arab states, so as to advance a comprehensive settlement. Israel also rejected Egypt’s prerequisite that any settlement should be part of a comprehensive agreement based on withdrawal to the lines

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of 1967. Washington, for its part did not pressure Israel into making the compromises that could allow launching a dialogue. At the same time, American military aid to Israel increased substantially, while

Soviet military aid to Egypt supplied under the terms stipulated in the May 1971 Treaty of Friendship and Cooperation failed to meet Egypt’s expectations. Egypt was further concerned that the evolving American—Soviet détente suggested less external interest in settling the Arab-Israeli conflict.*” In July 1972, Sadat ordered the departure of more than 15,000 Soviet advisers and military experts from Egypt. His return for doing so, however, was meager: all he received was an amorphous American pledge to advance an end to violence in the region, in line with UNSCR 242. In the spring of 1973, Sadat and Asad embarked on concrete preparations for war. Cairo and Damascus shared the assessment that war was the only way to bring about international and particularly superpower pressure on Israel to withdraw from the territories occupied in 1967, and thus end the situation of neither peace nor war, which

from their perspective, particularly given the ceasefires along the Israeli-Syrian and Israeli-Egyptian lines, benefited Israel’s interest only.** The joint preparations complemented a process of rapprochement between Cairo and Damascus, which accompanied the severing of Cairo’s relations with Amman in the aftermath of the crisis of September 1970. As for Asad, the alignment with Egypt was intended to balance Syria’s military inferiority and put an end to its regional isolation. Coordination for war was limited to Syrian—Egyptian contacts, due to the failure in April 1971 of efforts to bridge differences between Cairo and Tripoli and thus enable any union between Libya, Syria, and Egypt. Unlike Egypt, Syria remained adamant in its opposition to the idea of an Israeli-Arab settlement in line with UNSCR 242. Yet this did not prevent Cairo from advancing Syrian—Egyptian cooperation in light of the growing urgency of building a war coalition. Assessing that King Hussein would not allow the coalition forces to deploy on Jordanian territory, Sadat and Asad did not share their concrete plans with him. The Egypt-Syria rapprochement, however, coincided with renewed cooperation between Cairo and Riyadh, facilitated by the expulsion of Soviet advisers from Egypt and enabled by Sadat’s relatively forthcoming approach toward the Muslim Brotherhood. Consequently, Egypt came to enjoy increased financial aid from the oil-producing Gulf monarchies — a development that undoubtedly encouraged the decision to translate the military cooperation with Syria into practical plans for war. A related supporting development was the growing power of the oil weapon in determining international relations. The drive to secure access to Arab oil led participants in the conference of the Organization of Non-Aligned States, which convened in Algiers on September 5,

1973, to pledge support for Arab states’ efforts to regain the lands occupied in 1967, demand an end to the American military backing for Israel, and recognize the PLO as the sole legitimate representative of the Palestinian people. This declaration was an important addition to the PLO’s consolidating pillar of political legitimacy. However, like other declarations of recognition and support, it was far from sufficient for motivating the international pressure that could yield Israeli concessions. In any case, while cross-border activity by resistance factions elicited retaliatory attacks that aggravated the Israeli-Arab tension, the Palestinian cause itself was certainly not at the core of the considerations that led to the decision to initiate another round of fighting.” 77

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The Fifth Institutional Phase, 1971-1973

On the afternoon of October 6, 1973, Syria and Egypt launched a surprise attack along the northern and southern borders of Israel. Despite initial heavy setbacks, the IDF managed to repel the attack. Nevertheless, the war constituted a major situational shift that dramatically transformed the power equation in the Middle East, in both regional and global terms. The war that initially involved Israel, Egypt, and Syria evolved into a wider regional conflict as Iraqi, Libyan, Jordanian, Algerian, and Moroccan forces joined the Arab war effort that eventually became a sphere of contest between the two superpowers. At the war’s earliest stages, the Soviet and American involvement was confined to military assistance to the rival sides. Later, they became engaged in a diplomatic showdown, one that would ultimately force both the end of the war and the course of regional politics for many years to come. In the war’s earlier phases, both the US and the USSR kept a low profile in the region, endeavoring to prevent the crisis from reaching global proportions. In the coming weeks, both sides airlifted massive shipments of materiel, while at the same time trying to preserve the fairly nascent détente, or at least avoid a direct confrontation between the superpowers. UNSCR 338, which called on all sides to cease military action and implement Resolution 242, was passed on October 22, but the war did not end until October 24, after the threat of Soviet military intervention was quelled by sufficient American pressure.” The war of October 1973 marked the end of an era. In the aftermath of the war,

military proliferation and deterrence still remained the preferred means of containment. However, large-scale violence appeared to have lost much of its promise as a mode of inducing political transformations in the region. The war, and particularly its onset, was instrumental in restoring Arab self-esteem but also demonstrated the limited utility of conventional war. The probability that conventional conflict would draw the superpowers into a direct confrontation rendered future wars all the more risky. Consequently, the military dimension of the conflict became increasingly supplemented by diplomatic initiatives aimed at sustaining a ceasefire along the Arab-Israel i borders. More advanced initiatives proposed in subsequent years were explicitly intended to promote a negotiated solution. The maturing emphasis on diplomacy undermined the strategic centralit y of violence. While popular struggle had not proven to be an effective means to advance national liberation, conventional war was not a viable alternative either. Reflecting on

the challenge, Khalaf alleged that “one of the welcome results of the October 1973 war

was that it pushed the policy of violence to the background, at least for the time being.”*! Nonetheless, the challenge of a non-military solution was not enthusiastically welcomed by Palestinian resistance organizations in the immediat e aftermath of the war.

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The Sixth Institutional Phase, 1974-1982 Violent Lead, Political Backup

Institutional Pragmatism The aftermath of the 1973 war brought a greater determination on the part of the US to blunt the intensity of the Middle East conflict. Several Arab actors, for their part, regarded the Ford administration as the only agent that could potentially extract a territorial compromise from Israel in return for Arab political concessions, and hence supported Henry Kissinger’s efforts to bring about an incremental remission of the regional tension. Between 1973 and 1975, Kissinger scored a number of successes on this front, brokering disengagement agreements between Israel and Egypt and between Israel and Syria.' Kissinger also masterminded the conference for peace in the Middle East, which opened under UN auspices in Geneva on December 21, 1973 and was adjourned in early January 1974, and was attended by American, Soviet, Israeli, Egyptian, and Jordanian delegations.” While the declared goal of establishing a permanent forum for dealing with the conflict was not attained, in retrospect the conference was recognized as the first stage toward direct Israeli-Egyptian and Israeli-Jordanian talks under American mediation.’ The convening of Israeli and Arab delegations had clear symbolic importance, and this was not lost on the leadership of the Palestinian resistance. For many prominent international and regional players, the price of a regional war now appeared to be higher than the price of a settlement. Resistance leaders, however, still considered the price of peace to be substantially greater than war. Armed struggle was highly successful in mobilizing normative and political support for the resistance movement. While it failed to advance an effective war of national liberation, the failure was not decisive enough to disrupt the organizations’ institutional inertia or force a thorough revision of their core strategy. However, in the advent of political developments that appeared likely to precipitate agreements between Israel and neighboring states, Fatah’s leadership viewed the formulation of interim goals as an institutional imperative. Of key concern was the possibility that developments would culminate in the return of non-Palestinian Arab rule over the territories occupied in 1967. Such an outcome, particularly restoration of Jordanian rule over the West Bank, was bound to undermine the resistance’s institu-

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A

tional aspirations. In response to this challenge, the organization officially supplemented its strategy of armed struggle with somewhat less straightforward modes of mobilization. A new institutional pragmatism emerged, featuring emphasis on strategic flexibility.* While not specifically mentioned, mobilization mechanisms other than violence were sanctioned. The realignment of ends and means through the incorporation of non-violent elements into the overall strategy of the struggle represented an attempt to sustain the institutionalization process of the Fatah-led PLO in the face of threatening circumstances.° The move to a more nuanced attitude regarding a political settlement was critically influenced by the endorsement of the phased strategy toward settling the conflict with Israel by Arab leaders who met at the Algiers summit in December 1973. Participants in the summit declared “solidarity . . with Egypt, Syria and the Palestinian nation,” and — notwithstanding Jordan’s dissent — pledged to support the Palestinian resistance “by all possible measures, to ensure its active role in the campaign [toward the just goals of the Arabs].” At the same time, however, the summit’s participants declared their readiness to advance peace on the basis of Israeli withdrawal from the territories occupied in 1967 and restoration of the Palestinian national rights — two objectives that were cast as interim goals. This strategy followed the spirit of the plan that had been suggested in 1965 by Algerian president Habib Bourguiba and overwhelmingly rejected throughout the Middle East.® This time, the summit provided collective legitimacy for participation in the regional peace process within the context of a phased strategy. In fact, the summit legitimized the rationale underlying the conclusion of the American brokered disengagement agreement between Egypt and Israel and the eventual agreement to this effect that was reached between Syria and Israel. This accomplishment was of course facilitated by the Libyan and Iraqi absence from the summit deliberations.’ In June 1974, a revised program outlined by Fatah that became known as the phased strategy was endorsed by the twelfth PNC in Cairo. The conference’s resolution strove to emphasize consensus issues, affirming dedication to the strategic objective of “establishment of a democratic state on the whole of Palestinian territory.” Yet for the first time, an interim goal was also specified: “determination to establish an independent state on any part of Palestinian territory to be liberated.” This revised strategy allowed for the possibility that the liberation of Palestine might occur in more than a single decisive phase. Hence, the National Charter clause referring to the “liberation of Palestine” was absent from the program. Instead, the goal was rephrased to advocate the “liberation of Palestinian territory.” Furthermore, the program did not reject the path of political settlement in its entirety. As stipulated in article 1, opposition to the diplomatic path focused on one specific scheme, UNSCR 242, which “obliterates the patriotic and national right of our people. . . . Therefore, dealing with this resolution on this basis is rejected on any level of Arab and international dealings, including the Geneva conference.”’® Predictably, the adjustment to the political momentum aggravated the power struggle among the various resistance organizations and was especially challenging to Fatah’s intra-Palestinian status. While the diverse factions were unified concerning the need to frustrate any negotiated settlement, they disagreed on how to promote this goal and what should be done in face of a possible diplomatic breakthrough. Clear lines of demarcation were consequently drawn between two camps, though neither was by any

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means monolithic. Fatah’s revised line was backed by most factions, among them the DFLP;? another supporter was the Syrian-sponsored Sa’iqa, which was nevertheless less optimistic than Fatah and the DFLP concerning the future ability to uphold armed struggle in territories that might come under Arab rule. However, an opposing bloc strenuously rejected Fatah’s evolving pragmatism. George Habash, a vocal spokesman of the radical camp, contended that armed struggle could still frustrate intentions to conclude a settlement with Israel, and that interim concessions would abolish the Palestinians’ ability to perpetuate the struggle. In his view, any phased strategy was much more than just a tactical adjustment of the struggle to the present situation, and would lead to an eventual relinquishing of the goal of self-determination.'° In September 1974 the PFLP, as well as the Iraqi sponsored ALF and the PFLP-GC, split from the Fatah-led PLO. In October, the PFLP-led rejectionist front, which until then had been a rather loose coalition backed by Iraq and Libya, was formally constituted. From that time onward, the organizations that were members of the rejectionist front underscored violence as the means to advance two mutually strategic reinforcing goals: undermining Fatah’s leading position as head of the PLO and scuttling any prospect for an Arab—Israeli settlement. Political support for the PLO was restated at the next summit, which convened in October 1974 in Rabat. This time, participating states unanimously proclaimed the PLO to be “the sole legitimate representative of the Palestinian people in the Palestinian territory that is liberated.” King Hussein likewise supported the decision, thus acknowledging his enfeebled position and inability to counterbalance the institutional weight and legitimizing power of the Palestinian issue. In addition, participants pledged to support the PLO “in the exercise of its responsibility in the national and international levels within the framework of Arab commitment.” Apparently, dissociation from Palestinian matters was intended by Arab governments for facilitating promotion along the bilateral political path with Israel, regardless of expected opposition on the part of the PLO. Still, adopting the Syrian line and emphasizing the collective nature of the conflict with Israel, participants affirmed opposition to any settlements that would be advanced separately between an Arab state and Israel." The PLO’s endorsement of the phased strategy was likewise encouraged by gains that were concurrently scored by Fatah in the international sphere and the wish to

further this momentum of political institutionalization. During a visit to Moscow in 1974, Arafat was offered military training and arms. The USSR leadership, urged by Sadat, recognized the PLO as the sole representative of the Palestinian people and a PLO office was opened in Moscow. The Soviet leadership also advised Arafat of the advantages of a phased struggle, presumably contributing to the emerging institutional pragmatism. In October 1974, a joint statement was issued by Egypt and the USSR stating the establishment of a Palestinian state was a prerequisite for peace in the Middle East.'2 In November, Arafat was invited to take part in deliberations on the Palestinian issue held by the UN General Assembly. On November 22, 1974, “having heard the statement of the PLO, the representative of the Palestinian people,” the UN General Assembly reaffirmed “the right of the Palestinian people in Palestine to selfdetermination without external interference [and] the fight to national independence and sovereignty,” and invited the PLO to participate “in the sessions and the work of the General Assembly in the capacity of observer.” Arafat’s speech to the UN General Assembly, in addition to a full-fledged attack 81

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on Israel, included an outline of the bases of legitimacy that had accorded the PLO its greatest institutional achievement thus far. Elaborating upon the organization’s regulative, normative, and political accomplishments, Arafat contended: The PLO has earned its legitimacy because of the sacrifice inherent in its pioneering role, and also because of its dedicated leadership of the struggle. It has also been granted this legitimacy by the Palestinian masses, which in harmony with it have chosen it to lead the struggle according to its directives. The PLO has also gained its legitimacy by representing every faction, union or group as well as every Palestinian talent, either in the National Council or in people’s institutions. This legitimacy was further consecrated during the last Arab Summit Conference. which affirmed the right of the PLO, in its capacity as the sole representative of the Palestinian people, to establish an independent national authority on all liberated Palestinian territory. Moreover, the PLO’s legitimacy has been intensified as a result of fraternal support given by other liberation movements and by friendly, like-minded nations that stood by our side, encouraging and aiding us in our struggle to secure our national rights. '?

Summing up, Arafat stated that he came to the UN “bearing an olive branch and a freedom-fighter’s gun.” The institutional pragmatism was determined by situational developments, namely the growing inclination among regional and international players toward a political settlement. Endeavoring to neutralize the threat to its regulative core, Fatah dissociated the ultimate goal and the traditional means to advance that goal, establishing new countervailing relations between the violent and non-violent modes of mobilizati on. In order to repel allegations of abandoning strategic directives and thus preserve

Fatah’s

intra-Palestinian

ascendance,

the

organization’s

mainstream

leadership

professed the pragmatism to be nothing but a tactical component in an otherwise unyielding strategy. However, there were tensions inside Fatah, inside the PLO, and inside the resistance movement as a whole that concerned the operationa l implications of institutional pragmatism, and reflected a realization by all that the tactical flexibility might imply potential strategic flexibility as well. In the coming two decades the regional balance of power, and more specifically Fatah’s still-defici ent institutional

status, would ensure that the gun continued to dominate the olive branch. Violence

remained the emphasized means for mobilizing regulative and normative legitimacy. Diplomacy was relegated to a fallback position, in part since violence was also established both as a means for preventing a political settlement from taking shape, and for assuring integration of the PLO in an eventual settlement, should this first objective fail to materialize. The two objectives, however, were manifestly incompatible, since violence was bound to jeopardize the attainment of political legitimacy and thus impede the goal of securing the participation of the PLO in any diplomatic initiative. Hence, seeking to moderate related strategic discord, Fatah readjusted the balance among its diverse operational arenas. In fact, the endorsement of institutional pragmatism appeared to be the formal rationalization of a trend that was plainly taking place: decreasing emphasis on violent mobilization, especially in the international theater . This is not to say that international terrorism was entirely eliminated from Fatah’ s operational repertoire. The operational infrastructure that had been established in and outside the Middle East was sporadically activated against carefully chosen targets, primarily against the assets of Arab states that acted to curb Fatah’s diplom atic ventures.'4 Concurrently,

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however, Fatah became considerably more careful with regard to attacks against Western objectives, by and large confining related action to threats of violence in response to concrete obstruction of Palestinian interests and, as such, its own political status. Fatah thus sought to pursue violent action in a manner that would preserve or advance its net institutional interests. The organization, or more precisely its diplomacy-oriented mainstream, aspired to acquire political legitimacy by refraining from the practice of violence, by negotiating an end to attacks in the international sphere, or by cooperating with states’ agencies to frustrate schemes by members of other organizations and Fatah itself. These efforts served to foster the organization’s status in the West, at least in the eyes of law enforcement agencies. Indicating the limits of Fatah’s intra-Palestinian legitimacy, however, the policy of

restraint was not altogether accepted by other organizations. As opposed to Fatah, factions affiliated with the rejectionist front subscribed to an indiscriminate view on the legitimacy of the diverse operational spheres and ongoing violence in the international arena. Assaults beyond the geographical and political boundaries of the region were also embraced as a means to delegitimize Fatah and thus forestall its political ambitions. Fatah’s leadership was particularly concerned over the detrimental implications of assaults that were carried out in the international arena. The challenge to its politically-oriented mobilization efforts that emerged from the radical factions’ insistence on violence was encapsulated by the hijacking to Tunis of a BEA airliner by the Arab Nationalist Youth Organization, to coincide with Arafat’s participation in the UN deliberations. Acting under Egyptian and Tunisian pressure, Salah Khalaf mediated an end to the incident. “It’s true,” he said, “that the UN’s attitude towards us in

the past has been far from blameless. And of course there’s no need to have any illusions regarding its effectiveness and power. But still, does this mean we should scorn a moral and political victory?” At times, related disputes between the radical and the mainstream camps culmi-

nated in violent confrontations. Fatah’s leadership also found it difficult to impose restraint on members of its own organization.'® Nonetheless, overall the period produced a fluctuating yet significant decline in the scope and volume of violent incidents.'? This shift was accompanied by a perceptible change in the political affiliation of the perpetrating organizations. Responding to the suspension of international terrorism by Fatah and the PFLP, the radical factions sponsored by rejectionist states established their own apparatuses overseas; by the mid-1970s, they had come to dominate the violent scene.'® In the coming years, assaults that were perpetrated in the international sphere effectively underlined the distinction between the violent struggleoriented radical factions and the diplomacy-oriented mainstream of Fatah. By rendering this distinction rather obvious, the radical factions enhanced the political institutionalization of the PLO, thus furthering the objective they were endeavoring to

frustrate. Much less sensitive to ideological divergences and political impediments was the struggle against Israel along its borders and in the occupied territories. In previous years, the occupied territories had assumed only a marginal role within the overall context of Fatah’s institutional enterprise. Preoccupied with mobilizing regulative and normative support among Palestinian communities elsewhere and confronted with intense Israeli efforts to curb the establishment of a regulative infrastructure in the territories, Fatah conducted only minor efforts to develop a broad power base there.

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However, the endorsement of institutional pragmatism also enhanced Fatah’s need to

repudiate allegations that it rejected earlier commitments to an uncompromising struggle against Israel. Against this backdrop, the territories were the one arena in which Fatah could act without alienating those audiences that it needed to further its political legitimization. In line with the PLO’s early 1973 decision to establish the PNF, in November of that year Fatah issued its own text, albeit somewhat obscure with regard to the operative translation of its immediate implications in support of revolutionary struggle in the territories.'° Fatah intended the reawakening of the violent struggle in the territories to mobilize sympathy and support, and thus substantiate its normative and regulative standing there. Like cross-border raids, the struggle in the territories and within the pre-1967 lines was conducted within the indistinguishable contexts of the confrontation against Israel and intra-Palestinian competition over leadership of the resistance. Thus, the diverse factions were endeavoring to institutionalize not just by devotion to the struggle against Israel, but by demonstrating that their share was greater than that of others. As in previous years, the major challengers to Fatah’s leadership were the radical fronts — the DFLP and the PFLP. An additional competitor was the Jordanian Communist Party (JCP), which enjoyed a relatively narrow yet well-establis hed popular base.” Fatah’s organizational skills and logistical capabilities surpassed those of other organizations, and under the command of Khalil al-Wazir, the organization was better equipped to maintain and promote its relative prevalence in the new-old arena of the territories as in the other institutional spheres. Given the complexity of building a solid institutional base in the territorie s, the spectacular cross-border campaign remained a viable way to serve Fatah’s dual goals: drawing worldwide attention to the cost of excluding the Palestini an cause from regional politics, and fostering Fatah’s prominence as the leader of the armed struggle.*' Thus, a wave of bombing and barricade-hostage attacks accompanied Kissinger’s mediation of disengagement agreements between Egypt and Israel.” The peace negotiations between Israel and Egypt, along with other proposed formulas for negotiations that were to crop up in the coming years, served as the backdrop for additional waves of spectacular attacks. The intentional timing of attacks to coincide with political developments that negated the PLO’s bid to represent ation demonstrated the pertinence of violence to the comprehensive strategic framework. On the whole, however, the struggle in the territories was dissociated from concrete political developments, and its significance rested primarily on the militant message that the attacks conveyed. Turning the territories into the major institutionalization arena of the resistance was a formidable challenge, given Israel’s security efforts. At the same time, the resistance could not entrench itself in Egypt, Jordan, or Syria without sacrificing its freedom of decision-making and movement. Under these circumstances, Lebanon remained the most favorable institutional scene. Howeve r, the entrenchment of the Fatah-led PLO in Lebanon and the reliance on violent mobilization accelerated the country’s disintegration into anarchy and strife, confro nting the resistance with yet another test of survival.

i

Violent Lead, Political Backup

4

Entrenchment in Lebanon Fatah’s consolidation on Lebanese soil did not constitute the only threat to Maronite domination, nor was it the sole cause of the tension that led to Lebanon’s downward spiral into civil strife. Alongside the Fatah-led PLO’s entrenchment in Lebanon were economic problems and a rapidly disintegrating polity; indeed, it was the infirmity of the country’s political system that had made consolidation of the various insurgent organizations, including the Palestinian resistance, feasible to begin with.” Still, the military buildup of Fatah and other organizations, the upsurge of armed struggle against Israel and retaliatory Israeli attacks, and the popular protests against the army's inability to prevent Israeli violations of the country’s sovereignty forged the core of the threat to Lebanon’s traditional Maronite leadership. Alliances between Palestinian resistance organizations and Lebanese opposition forces made this threat all the more palpable. Meantime, the competitive and fragmented nature of the Palestinian resistance lay in the background to this heightening tension. Despite its established supremacy among the Palestinian organizations, Fatah’s power was not sufficient to deter uncoordinated actions that provoked Israeli reprisals and incited clashes with the army. The result was recurrent skirmishing, which neither the government nor Fatah could prevent. Thus, the decline of the country toward civil war and the total collapse of the political system were effectively accelerated by the relative institutional weakness of both the Maronite establishment and Fatah. The outbreak of the Lebanese civil war was spurred by a violent encounter between Christian and Palestinian gunmen in April 1975, one in a series of escalating clashes that ignited the already-tense Palestinian—Christian sphere.* Ensuing disturbances spread throughout the country. Simmering pre-existing indigenous conflicts and the breakdown ofthe shaky sectarian balance of power in the country meant that the first months of the war involved primarily non-Palestinian forces. Prominently engaged in the fighting were the Phalange Party led by Pierre Jumayyil, which sought to preserve Maronite ascendance according to the national pact of 1943, and the revisionist Lebanese National Movement (LNM) led by Kamal Junblat, which struggled to restructure the country’s political system and promote Druze and Muslim power.” Seeking to preserve its sanctuary, Fatah officially adhered to the principal of non-intervention in the internal affairs of the host state and refrained from embroiling itself in the fight. The organization also engaged in diplomatic efforts to alleviate Christian fears of the Palestinian entrenchment. On the other hand, leftist organizations, chiefly the PFLP, perceived the war to be an integral part ofthe struggle against “reactionary” forces, and hence did not follow the PLO’s policy of self-restraint, instead engaging in the fighting from the onset. The fights escalated against the backdrop ofincreasing political instability and fluctuation among the major leading figures.” In September, the predominantly Christian army, which until then had stayed away from full-fledged involvement in the war, positioned itself in the north, between the combating Phalange Party and the LNM. As battles spread throughout the capital, a National Dialogue Committee was formed. Weeks of relative calm followed, notwithstanding repeated transgressions of ceasefires. By late 1975 Christian forces stepped up attacks against Muslim population centers, focusing on the Palestinian neighborhoods of Beirut. The Christian militias

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The Sixth Institutional Phase, 1974-1982

made destruction of the Palestinian stronghold an aim in its own right.”’ This seemed to mark an end to the favorable institutional setting of the resistance in the country,

but in more immediate terms, the war took on aspects of an existential challenge, prompting all-out Palestinian engagement in the fighting. In this same period, the Palestinian resistance faced another challenge pertaining to its political institutionalization. Diplomatic maneuvers hinted at the possibility of a regional settlement that, from the perspective of the PLO, threatened to circumvent the Palestinian cause. Following the conclusion of the Israeli-Egyptian Sinai II accord, the Ford administration embarked upon efforts to revive the Geneva conference for Middle East peace. A special memorandum masterminded by Kissinger was signed between Israel and the US, reaffirming American policy concerning the Palestinian issue. More specifically, the memorandum validated US policy concerning Palestinian representation, remarking that recognition of Israel’s existence and acceptance of UNSCRs 242 and 338 was a prerequisite for US recognition of the PLO.?8 The Gulf states, seeking to guarantee their role in the US-brokered political process, blamed the Lebanese crisis on the Palestinians, suspended financial aid to Fatah and other resistance organizations, and subsidized arms purchases for the Christian forces. From the Palestinian perspective, the US was perceived to be guiding a regional scheme to nullify the PLO:? Nevertheless, the institutional hazards that were associated with the regional political process were less acute than the threats that were created by the escalating civil war. The Palestinian armed forces, which constituted the military forefront of the organizations’ regulative core, encountered the exacting task of preserving organizational infrastructures.

The

organizations,

and most

of all Fatah,

also assumed

responsibility for the well-being and safety of the refugee camps. While the normative legitimacy of the organizations was likely to remain intact even in the face of difficulties to protect the camps against Christian atrocities, war-related regulative damage (for example, impairment of administrative apparatuses) was prone to complicate the translation of popular support into political influence and military power. The solidification of the ranks in the face of the common enemy boosted Fatah’s inter-organizational authority. However, the military cooperation among the diverse resistance factions served to aggravate the challenge that was facing the movement. Thus, blows that were dealt by Palestinian forces to Christian militias accelerated the consolidation of an anti-Palestinian front and enhanced the spillover of the war into the regional sphere. Responding to Palestinian shows of force, President Franjiyya endorsed Syrian backing. Until late 1975, Syria supported the revisionist forces, i.e., the Palestinian and LNM forces. Dispatch of Sa’iqa and (officially affiliated with the PLO) PLA forces from Syria to Lebanon, in response to a call by the Palestinian—LNM alliance for help, facilitated the role played by the regular Palestinian forces in the war. But in light of the ongoing violence, particularly in and around Beirut, and as ideas concerning the partition of Lebanon between the Christians and the Muslim—Druze alliance took shape, Syria moved to defend its interests, which called for preserving the political and territorial integrity of Lebanon.* In order to assuage the situation, Damascus proposed a political reformation, focusing on a restoration of the pre-war status quo and intercommunal accommodation. To this end, it embarked upon rapprochement with the Maronite elite. At that time, Fatah was attempting to mediate a settlement between

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Violent Lead, Political Backup

Damascus and the LNM.*! But the failure of efforts to promote the reform led to the collapse of the Lebanese army along sectarian lines. This, in addition to military achievements won by the Palestinian forces, unleashed direct Syrian intervention in

the war. In March 1975, responding to escalation in the Palestinian war effort, Damascus dispatched Sa’iga and PLA units, this time to join the Syrian army in its fight against former revisionist associates, including Palestinian forces.*? Efforts to break down the strategic alliance between the PLO and the LNM were also intensified. In April, the PLO and Damascus reached an agreement on a ceasefire. Consequently, the LNM declared itself free to make political choices independently of its alliance with the Palestinians. The next month, Elias Sarkis, who was backed by Syria, was elected president, but the elections, which were boycotted by the LNM, did not bridge the gap between the contesting sides. The following weeks saw assaults by units that had split from the Lebanese army against remote Maronite villages in the north of the country and an exacerbation of the showdown between Syrian and Palestinian forces. The Lebanese crisis served to mitigate the tension that had dominated relations between the PLO and Cairo since the signature of the Israeli-Egyptian disengagement agreements. Egyptian support for the PLO was essentially intended for counterbalancing Syrian military pressure as well as the political threat implied by Damascus’s support for Amman’s bid for representation of the West Bank.*? The accommodation between Fatah and Cairo, particularly the dispatch of PLA units from Egypt to Lebanon via seaports dominated by the LNM, was harshly denounced by the radical fronts and Sa’iqa. Subsequently, cadres of the rejectionist front, backed by Iraq, were joined by PLA units sponsored by Egypt and engaged in battles against Sa’iqa and Syrian-sponsored PLA units.** The intensification of the fighting proved to be the straw that broke the back of Damascus’s restraint. On June 1, 1976 the Syrian army invaded Lebanon.*° The Syrian intervention interrupted the Palestinian offensive against the Christian militias and hindered its ability to protect the refugee camps against Christian atrocities. The Arab Deterrent Force (ADF), an inter-Arab peacekeeping force composed mostly of Syrian troops with token contingents from various Arab states, arrived in Lebanon following an agreement reached by Arab foreign ministers but had little effect on the course of the war.*° The following months were characterized by fierce battles, fought against the backdrop of successive abortive attempts to reach a negotiated understanding, and failed attempts by the PLO to mobilize an effective Arab front against the Syrian intervention. Consequently, Fatah’s leadership became incrementally ready to withdraw from positions seized by its forces during the war, in exchange for a parallel Syrian commitment to refrain from acting against the Palestinian—LNM coalition. On August 12, the Tal al-Za’atar refugee camp, located in the eastern outskirts of Beirut, surrendered to Christian and Syrian forces after a

52-day siege.” Its fall immediately became an emblem of steadfastness, torment, and sacrifice. Yet it also marked a turning point, since it hastened Palestinian acquiescence to Syrian terms for a ceasefire and reinforced Arab pressures on both sides to reach an understanding. A de facto ceasefire between Syria and the Palestinians came into effect in October 1976, the same month that an agreement formalizing a cessation of hostilities was concluded in Riyadh, in a meeting attended by Syria, the PLO, Lebanon, Egypt,

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The Sixth Institutional Phase, 1974-1982

Kuwait, and Saudi Arabia.** The crisis was also on the agenda of the summit that convened later that month in Cairo. The participants called upon the opposing sides to return to the pre-April 1975 lines, to normalize daily life, and to reinstate the country’s political system, thereby reaffirming the 1969 Cairo agreement. Between the lines, the Riyadh agreement and the resolution that concluded the discussions in Cairo acknowledged Syrian dominance over Lebanon, and denied other Arab states influence over the country’s domestic affairs. By mid-November 1976, the Syrian army, facing no viable resistance, secured

its hold over all of Beirut.

Fatah, like other

Palestinian organizations, moved the majority of its headquarters and cadres to the south. Having internalized the newly established situational imperatives and their derivative institutional ramifications, Fatah also labored to prevent dissident Palestinian actors and groups affiliated with the LNM from interfering in the Syrian conquest. In all, the war effort did not produce a profound transformation in the institutionalization course of either Fatah or the resistance as a whole. Despite the burden exacted by the war effort (or indeed, perhaps because of it), Fatah preserved and further enhanced administrative and military apparatuses. The organization’s steadfastness also served to enhance its normative supremacy among Palestinians, and the agreement that concluded the showdown reaffirmed the political legitimacy of the military and civilian presence of the resistance in the country. Certainly the alterations in the Lebanese division of power produced fluctuations of emphasis among Fatah’s diverse courses of action, directing growing focus on defensive mechanisms. Still, no overall institutional transformation took place and the pre-war strategic directives themselves remained largely unchanged; no realignment of ends and means was required. The Fatah-led PLO enhanced its pre-war efforts to translate regulative and normative infrastructures into political power in two spheres that had become firmly interrelated during the war: the internal Lebanese and regional arenas. The PLO’s post-1973 institutional pragmatism, which balanced the emphasis on violent mobilization with diplomatic initiatives, provided the logic of action. Notwithstanding drawbacks deriving from political developments in which the PLO played no formal role, the next five years were characterized by a bolstered regulative and political status.

The presence of the Syrian army in Lebanon brought a formal ending to the general hostilities, yet did not advance the turbulent country toward political reunification. Violent contests among the diverse militias continued, which furthered the entrenchment project as detached from the struggle against Israel. The entrenchment of the Fatah-led PLO featured growing reliance on the fortification of defensive and offensive military capabilities, namely the buildup of a barricaded Palestinian state-within-a-state.*° Within several months of the official cessation of fighting, PLO forces reorganized and established control over a large part of the country, specifically in the refugee camps located between the Litani River and western Beirut. In August 1976, the PLO ordered obligatory conscription for all Palestinians between eighteen and thirty years old. The decree, which in theory applied to all Palestinians, effectively applied only to those who were living in Lebanon, since regiments that arrived from Syria, Iraq, and Egypt were sent back to their original locations. Compulsory conscription met with some resistance. Nevertheless, in the following months Fatah and other PLO organizations regained their pre-war military strength, primarily in the southern

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Violent Lead, Political Backup

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region of the country. Perpetuating the established trend, the resistance organizations consolidated their networks of civil services, addressing the daily needs of the population in the areas under their control. These achievements were all the more impressive when considered in light of the concurrent decline in backing by former allies such as the LNM and the active opposition on the part of other forces that sought to improve their own positions. Among these forces were the Lebanese government itself, the Syrian army, militias led by Christian warlords affiliated with the Lebanese Front (established in 1976 and headed

by Bashir Jumayyil), the rising Shi’ite opposition, the South Lebanese Army (SLA) — a militia established by ex-Lebanon army major Sa’ad Haddad, and Israel. In fact, the story of the further fortification of the PLO in Lebanon constitutes an account of friction with these forces and measures taken by the organization’s constituent factions, at the violent and the non-violent spheres, so as to fend off related challenges. The Syrian army, under the ensign of the ADF, was authorized to oversee the rehabilitation of the country. Its 20,000-30,000 troops positioned on Lebanese soil warranted Syrian control over the country’s internal affairs, and constituted a cardinal source of power for the government.*! Seeking to control the decision-making process of the PLO, Damascus worked to weaken the Junblat-led LNM.*? Aware ofthe exis-

tential need to conform to the evolving order, Fatah endorsed regulative measures designed to avoid direct confrontation with the Syrian army. The Fatah-led PASC was strengthened and assigned the task of halting the swell of skirmishes between Palestinian factions and Syrian-sponsored militias, including Sa’iga.* Steps to avoid confrontation with Syria were also conducted in the political sphere. The thirteenth PNC, held in Cairo in March 1977 and which reaffirmed Fatah’s leading position, endorsed the PLO’s commitment to the Cairo agreement “and its annexes concluded between the PLO and the Lebanese government.” Evidently the PLO’s insistence on the validity of the formerly agreed-upon conditions for the Palestinian presence in Lebanon reflected a deep concern over the possibility that Lebanese forces would use sporadic clashes with Palestinian cadres as a pretext for expulsion. Related concerns were enhanced by the assassination of Kamal Junblat on the eve of the convention by Syrian agents, and by the persistent calls voiced by governmental elements to disarm the resistance in line with the Cairo and Riyadh accords. In fact, disarmament of the Palestinian forces was presented by Christian militias as a prerequisite for their own disarmament. The PLO, for its part, maintained that its weapons were needed for fending off attacks by Christian forces and the SLA. In July 1977, an understanding on a timetable for the implementation of the Cairo agreement was reached between the PLO, Lebanon, ADF, and Syria. In light of the supremacy of Damascus over the

ADF and the Lebanese government, the agreement — which was named after the Lebanese village in which it was signed (Shtura) — essentially constituted a bilateral understanding.* However, the Shtura agreement was never implemented. The PLO and the Christian militias, locked in a spiral of animosity and mistrust, conditioned compliance with the agreement on the complete withdrawal and disarming of each other, rendering it null and void. While the leadership of the PLO was willing to comply with at least some of the provisions of the agreement so as to prevent confrontation with the ADF, the PFLP, ALF, Palestinian Salvation Front (PSF), and PLF all endeavored to fore-

stall related efforts, perpetuating engagement in clashes with Shi'ite and Christian

89

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elements. Implementation was also delayed due to shifts in Syria’s relations with the opposing sides. Concurrently, the relations between Damascus and the National Front, particularly with the Phalange Party, degenerated rapidly.** Against the backdrop of increased pressure on Palestinian positions by the IDF and the SLA, Syria abandoned all efforts to implement the Shtura agreement, allowing further entrenchment of Palestinian forces in the south. Damascus also became interested in maintaining a Palestinian presence there as means to circumvent the virtual Red Line, which had been establishment in late 1976 by Israel in order to prevent deployment of Syrian troops within ten kilometers north of its border. The consolidation of the strategic alliance between Damascus and the PLO was further enhanced by a major regional development: Sadat’s peace initiative and the ensuing peace negotiations between Egypt and Israel. At the same time, the growing freedom of action enjoyed by the PLO in southern Lebanon intensified tensions along the Israeli-Lebanese border. Israeli action, which included artillery shelling and small-scale penetrations into Lebanese territory, threatened to further destabilize the scene, and hence generated pressure by the Lebanese government and Damascus on the PLO to halt the fighting. Efforts to mediate a ceasefire were also made by the US administration, and an agreement to this effect that included Israel, Lebanon, and Syria was reached in September 1977. Though there was no doubt concerning the relevance of the PLO to the tensions that the ceasefire was designed to alleviate, Israel refused to recognize the organization as a party to the agreement. The PLO, for its part, insisted on recognition. In order to avoid being regarded as a Syrian protégé, it declared an independent ceasefire on the same day. The formal ceasefire, in any case, had little effect on the ground.*’ On March 11, 1978, a Fatah cell infiltrated Israel from the sea, landed on the coastal road between Tel Aviv

and Haifa, and hijacked a bus with several dozen passengers. In the ensuing shooting, thirty-two people were killed and eighty-two wounded. The attack, which was designed by Fatah to assert its objection to a political settlement between Israel and Egypt, triggered a recurrence of the familiar dynamic of a spectacular assault setting ablaze a scene already rife with tension. The attack provided the Likud government, headed by Menahem Begin, with the pretext to embark upon an operation aimed at uprooting the infrastructure of the PLO from southern Lebanon, and establishing a fire-free zone between the border and ADF positions north of the Litani River.’ On March 14, 1978, the IDF invaded southern Lebanon. Syria did not engage forces in a direct confrontation with the IDF, settling instead for an intensive propaganda campaign and limited assistance to Palestinian forces. The IDF remained in Lebanon for about three months.” In June the Israeli forces withdrew to the southern side of the border, in line with UNSCR 425, which called upon Israel to withdraw immediately from Lebanese territory. The resolution also gave legal grounding for the establishment of a UN Interim Force in Lebanon (UNIFIL), which positioned itself between the Israeli border and the Syrian lines. Sometime later, a Syrian-backed attempt by the Lebanese army to deploy in the south, also in line with the directives of UNSCR 425, was aborted by the SLA, by that time covertly supported by Israel.*° “Operation Litani,” which marked an escalation in Israeli policy against the PLO, did register some tactical accomplishments. The Red Line between Israel and Syria was put to a successful test.°! Yet the invasion, and particularly the manner in which

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it was brought to an end, did not seriously undermine the PLO’s institutional foundation. Fatah’s steadfastness during the operation, notwithstanding the negative military outcomes it suffered, bolstered the organization’s regulative cohesion and normatively-based support among Palestinians in Lebanon and elsewhere, particularly in the West Bank. In addition, UNIFIL, which had been designated to establish a buffer between the Palestinian forces and the Israeli border, yielded to Fatah’s demand that it not come within 500 meters of its positions.®> Pressures exerted by Damascus and the Lebanese government induced Fatah to sign a ceasefire agreement with the UN force. Fatah, however, managed to turn UNIFIL into a source of political legitimacy. Though never fully implemented, the agreement enhanced the PLO’s legitimization by validating its ascendancy in the area under its regulative control. Furthermore, the official ceasefire between the PLO and UNIFIL made the organization, albeit circuitously, a party to a multilateral understanding, to which the Israeli government was a party as well.* This political achievement, however, did not compensate the Fatah-led PLO for its relative powerlessness that was displayed and further aggravated by political developments in which it had assumed no formal role. The institutional decline prompted mounting emphasis on violent struggle and triggered Israeli offensives against the PLO’s Lebanese infrastructure.

Political Backup So we came to be less as revolutionaries than as politicians.*°

On the eve of the Lebanese civil war, efforts to set up a formula for a negotiated settlement to the Middle East conflict reached an impasse, and related discussions dramatically subsided, both at the regional level and inside the PLO. The war effort itself, which had required concentrating on regulative entrenchment, relegated political institutionalization to a secondary role. But in the aftermath of the war, as the regional scene became increasingly affected by intensified maneuvering aimed at advancing a comprehensive settlement to the conflict, the PLO was again faced with an existential challenge, and with the derivative need to reinforce its political pillar of legitimacy.°° Related attempts to revive peace efforts rose once again on the regional agenda, echoing those that were conducted since early 1977 through the Carter administration. The newly-elected Carter team endorsed a belief ignored by previous administrations: any quest for a settlement had to address the Palestinian issue directly. It also viewed negotiations among all regional protagonists, including the PLO, as means to mitigate the conflict.°’ Though insisting on PLO recognition of UNSCR 242 as a precondition for a formal dialogue, the Carter administration displayed new flexibility, proposing a modified version of the resolution that focused on the legitimate rights of the Palestinian people and not just on the refugee problem.” The administration also recruited the USSR in an effort to persuade the PLO to joint statement issued on October 1, 1977 by Secretary of State accept UNSCR 242. A Cyrus Vance and Foreign Minister Andrei Gromyko called for the convening of the Geneva forum and for the participation in the conference of “all the parties involved

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in the conflict, including those of the Palestinian people.”®® This reference to the Palestinian question, however, left a number of crucial issues open to interpretation, particularly regarding the role of the PLO in the envisaged talks. Believing that a settlement could only be furthered under American auspices, the Saudi and Egyptian governments mediated “pre-negotiations” aimed at establishing a dialogue between the administration and the organization. But the PLO, endorsing the Syrian line, adamantly rejected Resolution 242. The rejection, which appeared to be motivated by unwavering ideological opposition, was actually determined by institutional interests that were at the time consonant with Damascus’s strategic preferences. Recognition of Israel was likely to grant official status for PLO representatives in the US and to facilitate initiation of a dialogue with the US administration, and thus would likely weaken Israel’s standing. Still, it was not a certain ticket to a seat at the negotiating table and therefore did not guarantee independent decision-making. Hence, in defiance of the inclination of mainstream Fatah leaders and a similar principal PNC resolution reached at the thirteenth PNC in March 1977, the Central Councils of both Fatah and the PLO resolved to reject the administration’s request for the conciliatory move.*! Indeed, against the concurrent escalation of IDF attacks on the military and civilian infrastructure of the resistance in Lebanon,

no other response could have been anticipated.” The most prominent regional actor who unequivocally rejected the American overture, however, was Damascus. The Syrian government, vehemently opposing the notion of a negotiated settlement, strove to prevent the international forum from becoming a platform for bilateral talks between Israel on the one hand, and either Egypt or Jordan on the other. Instead, Syria insisted that the Arab states be represented by a unified delegation. King Hussein, in line with the resolution of the Rabat Summit of 1974, did not insist on Jordanian representation ofthe Palestinian issue and endorsed a similar approach. Sadat, however, wished the international conference to be a forum for the formal conclusion of agreements articulated in advance. More specifically, he desired to deny Damascus the power to veto bilateral understandi ngs between Israel and a third-party Arab state. For its part, the Israeli government was well aware of the strategic advantag es of recognition by its Arab foes. At the same time, similar to the Egyptian dispositi on, it preferred the international forum to bea setting for concluding agreements reached in advance. Concerned over the rising political position of the PLO, the Israeli government insisted that the PLO not be represented in the talks and that all issues save the refugee problem be negotiated at the bilateral level. A working paper prepared by Moshe Dayan, then foreign minister in the Begin government, and Secretary Vance proposed that the issue of the territories be discussed in a working group including delegations from Israel, Jordan, and Egypt, and a representation of Palestinian Arabs. Like the joint statement of Vance and Gromyko, the document failed to mention the PEO: Any departure by the PLO or the Israeli government from the resolute “non-recognition” stance was bound to create extremely challenging strategi c dilemmas for the other side. As had been the case in previous years and would continu e to be for many years ahead, the Palestinians and Israel perceived the price they would have to pay for attaining the political opportunities that appeared to emanate from a settlement as a major threat to their strategic positions. In November 1977, however, the critical

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breakthrough in the stalemate came in the shockwave of Sadat’s visit to Israel and the initiation of negotiations between Israel and Egypt.® The realization that the Sadat’s visit to Jerusalem constituted the public face of a prolonged preparatory stage stirred rage and confusion throughout the Middle East. Fatah and the other PLO constituent organizations were particularly appalled. Perceiving the unfolding political process to be testimony to their institutional deficiency, the resistance organizations broadened their base of political support by associating themselves with the anti-Sadat camp. Thus, the PLO participated in an assembly in Tripoli, Libya in December 1977, in which representatives of Syria, Algeria, Libya, and South Yemen pledged non-conciliatory stances and constituted themselves as the “Steadfastness and Confrontation Front.”® A six-point program, issued by the Palestinian delegation to the gathering, was characterized by unyielding positions.°° However, the unified rejectionist showing did not reflect an end to disagreements inside Fatah or among PLO constituent organizations concerning the regional peace process. Arafat and other mainstream leaders advised that the door be left open for future negotiations, particularly for the eventual initiation of dialogue with the US. This position was harshly criticized by the leaders ofthe radical fronts, who were joined by members of Fatah, including Khalaf, Arafat’s second in command. Striving to forestall the possibility that Arafat might yield to American and Egyptian pressure and join the political process, they called for the establishment of a new leadership for the PLO, to consist of the leaders of all resistance organizations. Concurrently, representatives of Fatah’s mainstream abroad became targets of an Iraqi-sponsored spate of assassinations.°’ Overall, though, intra-Palestinian disputes subsided as the peace process progressed. The conclusion in September 1978 of a framework for Israeli-Egyptian negotiations, followed by the signature in March 1979 of the Camp David peace accords, dramatically encouraged consolidation of the Steadfastness Front. Participants in the ninth Arab summit, which was convened in Baghdad in November 1978, called for sanctions against Egypt, to be implemented in case of a conclusion of a peace treaty between Cairo and Jerusalem.® The reinforced standing of the PLO, or rather the centrality of the Palestinian card, was manifested by the summit’s resolution to establish a Solidarity Fund in support of the PLO and the confrontation states. Responsibility for financial aid to the territories was entrusted to Jordan and the PLO together, enhancing their rapprochement.” Following the conclusion of the peace treaty between Israel and Egypt, members of the Steadfastness Front, in which Iraq also played a leading role, severed their relations with Egypt. The offices of the Arab League were moved from Cairo to Tunis. In November

1979, Arab foreign ministers

convened in Tunis on Sarkis’s call in order to formulate terms for deploying the Lebanese army in the southern part of the country. The conference produced only inconclusive results, however, since Syria managed to determine confirmation of the status quo in Lebanon. Eager to maintain inter-Arab solidarity, participants settled for reiteration of the Cairo and Riyadh agreements concerning Lebanon, referring to the country’s predicament within the all-inclusive framework of the “Arab—Zionist conflict.””° The accommodation among Arab states, particularly between Syria and Iraq, mitigated the friction among Palestinian factions. The restitution of unity within the PLO was apparent at the fourteenth session of the PNC, which convened in 93

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Damascus in January 1979, despite persistent disagreements concerning the allocation of seats in the organization’s Executive Committee. Fatah’s institutional attainments of inter-Arab political legitimacy and intra-PLO regulative ascendance were further buttressed by rising support among residents of the Israeli-occupied territories. This development was stimulated by the concrete threat that emanated from the Israeli-Egyptian rapprochement. On December 28, 1977, upon returning from a meeting with Sadat in Ismailia, Begin announced a plan for an administrative autonomy for the residents of the West Bank and Gaza Strip. The delineated formula entrusted “security and public order” to the Israeli authorities, and stipulated provision of full autonomy to the residents of the territories following a fiveyear transition period.”' Cessation of Israeli settlement efforts in the territories, however, was ruled out, and the issues of Jerusalem, the refugees of 1948, and Jordan’s

relevance to the future of the territories were absent from the framework of the plan. The intention to legitimize perpetuation of the occupation, which appeared to be underlying Begin’s proposal, encouraged activist inclinations in the territories and facilitated the regulative construction there of resistance organizations. The organizational buildup, wherein Fatah assumed a dominant role, was asserted by rising violence and anti-Israeli demonstrations, which escalated during the second round of

the Camp David talks in March 1979, rendering impracticable further elaboration upon the proposed autonomy.” Any institutional achievement of this period, however, was not substantial enough to counterbalance Fatah’s shattered relevance to the regional political process. Endeavoring to reverse the downward political drift, Fatah embarked upon efforts that contrasted strikingly with the ideological imperatives and policies that had been endorsed by the Steadfastness Front. Thus, the offices of the PLO in Cairo were closed on Sadat’s order, yet hoping that he would change his mind concerning accommodation with Israel, Fatah maintained contacts with Egyptian executives. Fatah’s representatives to Cairo also urged Sadat to persuade the US administration to maintain its contacts with the PLO.” Defying Syrian directives, the PLO maintained contacts with Saudi Arabia and Jordan. Dialogue with Riyadh, the major source of financial aid to the PLO, was an existential necessity.” Contacts with Jordan were designed to forestall implementation of the autonomy plan and render impracticable any understanding between the monarchy and Israel on the future ofthe territories. In

addition,

1978 saw

the initiation

of secret talks between

members

of Fatah

and

members of the Israeli opposition Labor Party.75 At the same time, Fatah engaged in a diplomatic campaign aimed at curtailing the American-brokered peace plan. Related efforts focused on mobilizing internatio nal sympathy and translating such sympathy into formal recognition. Undertak en against the facilitating backdrop ofincreased international awareness ofthe Palestinia n factor in Middle East politics, the campaign proved relatively successful. During 1979, Arafat and other Fatah representatives, prominent among them Khaled al-Hasan, held a series of meetings with leaders of West European states, visiting Austria, Spain, Portugal, Belgium, and Italy. In the early 1980s, PLO offices were opened in Ireland and Finland, and the organization’s representations were upgraded to ambassadorial rank in Vienna and Athens. Arafat also paid official visits to New Delhi and Tokyo. In 1981 the PLO was granted diplomatic status by the socialist states.” On June 13, 1980, the European Council, which convened in Venice, recognize d the need to find “a

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just solution to the Palestinian problem,” and to place the Palestinian people in a position to “exercise fully its right to self determination.” Notwithstanding the focus on the Palestinian cause, the Venice declaration of the European Economic Community (EEC) still reflected awareness of Israeli sensitivi-

ties.” Leaders of Fatah and other organizations were particularly annoyed by the failure of the declaration to mention the PLO specifically and by the explicit acknowledgment of the right of all the “countries in the area to live in peace within secure, recognized and guaranteed borders,” which was underscored in the text. Those were two clear indications that recognition of Israel was still a gap that had to be bridged on the way to the negotiations table. But there was no guarantee that recognition of Israel would expedite the establishment of a Palestinian state. Thus, the PLO was actu-

ally called upon to forfeit concrete regulative and normative institutional grounds in order to gain rather equivocal political dividends. A similar dilemma faced the PLO in the wake of the announcement of yet another proposal for a negotiated settlement. In February 1981, Soviet premier Leonid Brezhnev suggested a collective regional search for a resolution within the framework of an international conference to be attended, among other participants, by the PLO and Israel. Rejecting the initiative of the EEC, the final resolution of the fifteenth PNC, which convened in April 1981 in Damascus, stated that “the soundness of any initiative is measured by the non-recognition ofthe Camp David course and agreements as a basis for a settlement and of the PLO as the sole legitimate representative of the Palestinian people.” At the same time, Brezhnev’s explicit inclusion of the PLO among the parties to the conflict favored Fatah’s effort to mobilize radical factions’ support for endorsement of the Soviet proposal. Thus, emphasized by the PNC were “the importance of widening the circle of recognition for the PLO” and the conviction that “it is the right and duty ofthe Palestinian revolution to continue its political and diplomatic moves and activities at the international level, including the states of Western Europe.”’* Nevertheless, the PLO rejected Crown Prince Fahd’s plan for a regional settlement, which referred to the Palestinian issue as “the basic figure in the Middle East equation.” The rejection followed preparatory deliberations for the November 1981 convening of the Arab summit in Fez. The eight-point Saudi plan proposed placing the territories occupied in 1967 under UN supervision for a transitional period of several months before the establishment of a Palestinian state, thus circumventing the proscription on direct Israeli-PLO negotiations. The plan was criticized by members of the leftist fronts as well as by radical members of Fatah.” Criticism focused on the apparent discrepancy between the proposal, which failed to mention the PLO and suggested necessary recognition of Israel, and the principles of the phased strategy. Facing harsh reactions by the heads of radical Arab states, Fahd himself removed the proposal from the summit’s agenda. Rising inter-Arab friction, already evident at the previous summit of November

1980 in Amman, permeated this summit as well. Both

were marked by exhaustion of the anti-Sadat fervor, concentration on the security and economic implications of the war that broke out in September 1980 between Iran and Iraq, and related shifts in regional alliances. Although the PLO, in a show of solidarity, joined Syria in boycotting the Amman summit, the Palestinian issue remained one on which even embittered rivals could

concur. Hence, the PLO scored a political gain, even if of minor practical implications only. The participants in the Fez summit expressed unqualified support for the PLO,

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reaffirmed their devotion to the Palestinian struggle, and reiterated support for the efforts, which were conducted concurrently — indeed under Syrian sponsorship and its own terms — to pacify Lebanon.* A general declaration of support for the Palestinians against Israeli aggression was also included in the resolutions of the summit, which was boycotted by Syria, as well as Algeria and Libya. As for Egypt, Husni Mubarak, who became president after Sadat was assassinated by radical Islamists on October 6, 1981, was busy solidifying his rule, and was particularly preoccupied with securing the completion of the Israeli withdrawal from Sinai. The issue of Lebanon, therefore, gained only secondary priority on Cairo’s regional agenda. *! In conclusion, it appears safe to argue that Fatah rejected the various political initiatives that were placed on the regional agenda in the 1970s because they challenged the balance between violent and political mobilization, which since 1974 had governed its strategy and substantiated its predominance over the PLO. Clearly, endorsement of any of the initiatives in order to attain what appeared.to be only tenuous political rewards threatened to destabilize the precarious balance among internal and interorganizational cores of power. Related debates inside Fatah and the PLO as a whole concerned the complementary effectiveness of violent and non-violent struggle for achieving both interim and long-term objectives. Fatah’s own policies were essentially influenced by two interlocking themes: unity of the PLO and freedom of decisionmaking. In other words, Fatah’s most pressing need was to preserve its own authority over as broad an organizational coalition as possible, in order to minimize the need to subordinate its decision-making to Arab governments. Facing a broad rejectionist coalition, Fatah endorsed hawkish stances as means to ward off threats to its intra-

Palestinian position. Related debates were held against the backdrop of an upsurge in violence, which was intended by the perpetrating organizations to coerce regional and international protagonists to admit the Palestinian issues on the various agendas. In other words, violence was intended to realize what the still-lacking institutional dimension of political legitimacy had failed to accomplish. Fatah specifically intended the violence to reverse the negative consequences of opting for the apparently elusive diplomatic path for its inter-organizational position. The violent campaign, which was conducted concurrently across the Lebanese border and in the international arena, conveyed a straightforward message. Referring to the attack that triggered Operation Litani, Khalaf noted that: We weren’t going to let Carter, Begin and Sadat get away with a so-called peace, which would deprive the Palestinian people oftheir future. We had to show Israel that it was futile to exclude us from a settlement and remind the Arabs that it was dangerous to sacrifice us to their selfish interests.*?

Notably, the spate of violence was just the tip of the iceberg — a spectacular manifestation ofthe intense regulative entrenchment that was concurrently underway in the relatively convenient Lebanese setting. As in previous institutional phases, violent struggle remained a primary mobilizing mechanism, and thus a principal means to legitimize regulative growth and enhance normative support and political pertinence. Still, the same developments that motivated escalation of the violent struggle dictated diplomatic persistence as well. Thus, the years that succeeded the initiation of the Egyptian—Israeli peace process were characterized by a mutually-buttres sing pursuit of

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political and regulative institutionalization, with regulative mobilization playing the leading role. Indeed, diplomatic undertakings obtained some political assurances for the Fatahled PLO, which when added to the extensive regulative entrenchment on Lebanese soil furthered the organization’s institutional edge. However, related achievements did not shield Fatah and the resistance as a whole against external threats. Hence the years of the calamitous interplay between unprecedented regulative and political solidification on the one hand, and rising environmental tensions on the other, which accelerated a

major situational shift and yet another institutional crisis. era was characterized by aggravation of the detrimental entrenchment played both primary and responsive roles. antagonism prevailed, determining the transformation opportunities into an existential threat.

The post-Operation Litani dynamic in which Fatah’s Eventually, environmental of apparent institutional

Further Entrenchment This brings us to the heart of the PLO’s problem in Lebanon: any growth ofits local strength only multiplied its enemies.*

In the post-Operation Litani era, the consolidation of the resistance in Lebanon continued by and large according to the same institutionalization determinants that had been apparent since the mid-1970s. The entrenchment of the resistance organizations, particularly Fatah, featured subordination of the popular base of support to regulative control. The process was enhanced by environmental contingencies that rendered communal cohesion a defensive necessity. The refugee camps, the suburbs of Beirut inhabited by Palestinians, and the coastal towns south of Beirut became tightlyregulated logistical centers for the military forces and settings for normative mobilization. Utilizing its financial and political ascendance, Fatah became an economic entrepreneur and the major employer of Palestinians living in Lebanon.™ Under Fatah’s leadership, notwithstanding constant challenges to its primacy, the Palestinian infrastructure developed into a full-fledged autonomous stronghold. Fatah by now effectively controlled the entire sweep of Palestinian daily life in Lebanon. As a result of this evolution, any bid to distinguish between the regulative and the normative pillars of its entrenchment became essentially impossible. And, drawing a line between voluntary and compulsory association was for all intents and purposes no longer possible.*° The consolidation and expansion of the stronghold challenged other local forces’ bid to power. Coupled with the massive presence of Syrian troops on Lebanese soil, the Palestinian institutionalization rendered the restoration of Maronite hegemony over the country’s political system practically unattainable. In addition, the resources at the PLO’s disposal (i.e., financial wealth, organizational expertise, normative support among the Palestinian populace, massive Syrian backing) gave the organization control over large areas once under the sway of its former allies, who were affiliated with the already weakened, demoralized, and disintegrating LNM. Antagonism to Palestinian entrenchment was further exacerbated by the proliferation of undisciplined armed units, most of them affiliated with Fatah, which engaged in

97

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The Sixth Institutional Phase, 1974-1982

extravagant acts of public molestation.*° The various Lebanese adversaries of the Palestinian organizations were particularly troubled by the destabilizing ramifications of Israeli incursions, which had been unleashed in the wake of Palestinian cross-border actions. Underlying Fatah’s engagement in the cross-border struggle was its newfound policy of pragmatic logic, which since 1974 had directed pursuance of the struggle by both violent and non-violent means. Though potentially detrimental to the attainment of political legitimacy, the violent struggle still constituted a principal mobilization mechanism, a means to satisfy militant inclinations within Fatah itself and to reinforce the organization’s prevalence in the inter-organizational sphere. Thus, Fatah’s political program, concluded in May, stressed the need to bring about “international measures that would tighten the isolation of the Zionist and American enemies” and reiterated the prevalence of the violent dimension of the strategy.*’ However, pressures exerted from within the resistance movement to perpetuate the violent struggle, and at the same time the need to circumvent political hurdles emanating from the presence of UNIFIL and the operational obstacles associated with the presence of Haddad’s South Lebanon Army (SLA) north of the Israeli border, determined the need to endorse a

tactical shift.** In the aftermath of Operation Litani, therefore, the tactical focus shifted

from cross-border raids to long-range shelling of communities in northern Israel.°°

Escalation of the IDF—PLO war of attrition was inevitable. In 1979, the hawkish

Likud government of Israel, under Prime Minister Begin and with Ezer Weizmann as defense minister, endorsed a preemptive and retaliatory policy toward PLO-relat ed security dilemmas.” Its firmness was displayed by intensified sea, air, and land campaigns against joint PLO-LNM forces and Palestinian targets in southern Lebanon and Beirut. On the whole, the Israeli anti-Palestinian campaign was dissociated from specific Palestinian attacks.°! In essence, it marked a ripening determina tion on the part of Israeli decision-makers to uproot the Palestinian infrastruc ture in Lebanon, and thereby topple the regulative and normative foundations of the PLO’s political institutionalization. Israel’s plan seemed to be working: the retaliatory policy compou nded the damage to the resistance’s public image and political standing. In addition to harming the inhabitants of Palestinian refugee camps and neighborhoods, the largely Shi’ite population of southern Lebanon suffered especially. Hundreds of thousands of residents were forced to leave their homes, seeking shelter in northern parts of the country.” The Shiite militia Amal, by now one of the PLO’s most acrimonious enemies, rapidly solidified, with its pledge to counterbalance Palestinian power emergin g as a primary mobilizing theme.*? The violent struggle also stimulated a Maronit e-led parliamentary and military offensive against the PLO: since the PLO was inciting Israeli reprisals, they argued, it harmed the chances of a Syrian withdrawal and therefore hindered the political aspirations of the Christian elite. Against the backdro p of growing alienation between the PLO and its former allies, the threat that emanate d from the converging interests of Israel and the Maronite elite to uproot the PLO became all the more challenging. The alliance between the Israeli government and the Maroni te elite was inspired by a shared interest in promoting an end to the Syrian and Palestinian presences on Lebanese soil. The IDF and the Mossad supplied Jumayyil’s Phalange Party with heavy arms and trained combatants, and directed the transformation of the militias

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into a conventional army. Subsidizing the rise of the Phalanges to hegemony in the friction-plagued Christian camp, supporting the militia’s fight against the Palestinian stronghold, and providing the Lebanese Front with the means to fend off pressures inflicted by the ADF, Israel became directly involved in Lebanon’s domestic strife. The trustworthiness of an Israeli pledge to protect the Lebanese Front against Syrian pressure was put to the test in the spring of 1981.°* Counting on Israeli backing, Jumayyil’s forces initiated a showdown with the Syrian army in the area of the Maronite enclave in the northern Be’ka. The Syrian army reacted by imposing a siege on Christian positions in the area of Zahle. Anticipating Israeli intervention, Damascus also deployed anti-aircraft missiles inside Lebanon, effectively breaching the Red Line. The conflict verged on a major showdown between Israel and Syria following the downing of two Syrian helicopters by the Israel Air Force and the ensuing assembly of the Syrian missiles.” However, intensive diplomatic efforts, conducted by the Reagan administration through Ambassador Philip Habib, in addition to reluctance on the part of Israel to jeopardize the peace process with Egypt, prevented further escalation at the time.”® Even so, it would soon become clear that the limited confrontation between the Syrian and Israeli armies was a mere prelude to a fierce showdown between the IDF and the PLO. Notwithstanding the threat that might stem from a consolidation of Syrian control over large districts in Lebanon, the Israeli government was increasingly worried over the military entrenchment of the Palestinian forces north of the border and the acquisition by the diverse resistance organizations, particularly Fatah, of advanced defensive and offensive capabilities. From Jerusalem’s perspective, the extent of Palestinian fortifications appeared to exceed their stated intent, which was primarily to provide protection for the Palestinians in Lebanon. Indeed, under rampant attacks by the IDF, the SLA, the Lebanese Front, and Amal, Fatah was forced onto the defensive — into incrementally realigning its calculus of ends and means in order to increase its focus on defending the Palestinian stronghold. Addressing the grave problem of

relations with the Lebanese public, Fatah embarked on a string of construction and relief works projects, and strove to curb behavioral “excesses” by its members.” Striving to deny the IDF any pretext to invade Lebanon and to allay Arab governments’ concern over a spillover of tensions from the Lebanese—Israeli border onto the regional sphere, Fatah reduced the scope of the violent struggle. But above all, the perceived imminence of a large-scale Israeli offensive directed a massive allotment of resources for defensive fortification. This included rear-echelon trenching, the purchase of long-range rockets, heavy anti-aircraft and anti-tank missiles, and unifying the military ranks and transforming them into a regular army. PLO forces were placed under joint regional commands, which operated under the General Mobilization Committee. The Committee itself was controlled by the PLO’s Supreme Military Council, in which Fatah played the dominant role.” Training programs for Palestinians aged sixteen to forty-nine, as well as the order for comprehensive conscription that was issued by Fatah and endorsed by the PLO in the summer of 1980, were all part of a grandiose design to transform its forces into a full-fledged army, including a trained reserve force. The plan failed, like previous attempts to enforce service, though the “regularization” of Palestinian military forces resulted in a military-bureaucratic expansion that substantiated Fatah’s ascendance in the intraPalestinian sphere, and also improved operational capabilities.”

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Fatah’s leading position was yet again confirmed at the fifteenth PNC (Damascus, April 11-20, 1981), in which the intentions of the hard line PLF, PSF, and the PFLP

to join the PLO’s Executive Council were thwarted. While this must have been perceived by external protagonists to be testimony to the consolidation of the PLO’s state-within-a-state, Fatah’s authority and its regulative pillar of legitimacy were still not sufficient to restrain deliberate attempts, conducted by factions driven by ideological zealotry or intoxicated by a sense of power, to transgress its political directives. Yet most critical from the perspective of the resistance’s enemies (the Israeli government and the Christian Phalanges) was the overall amalgamation of the Palestinian

stronghold in Lebanon, rather than the effects of any one particular cross-border attack or its immediate consequences.' Hence, transforming opportunities into threats, the regulative entrenchment entangled the resistance in an escalatory dynamic whereby the defensive enterprise, essentially an alternative means to ameliorate a deficient political legitimacy, wound up exacerbating the very flaws it had been designed to mend. As such, any growth of the PLO’s local strength aggravated the organization’s overall institutional fragility and deficient normative and political legitimacy, and therefore stimulated a further quest for regulative compensations. Seeking to undermine the resistance’s entrenchment enterprise, Begin’s government ordered the IDF to destroy the PLO’s artillery in Lebanon. The offensive. which began on July 10 and involved land raids against Fatah’s headquarters in Nabatiyyeh, was returned by extensive cross—border shelling. Ensuing air strikes against the headquarters of Fatah and the PFLP in the Fakahani district of Beirut resulted in numerous fatalities and enormous damage.'°! The showdown, which.led to massive desertion of towns and villages on both sides of the border, ended on July 24 with a bilateral though indirect agreement on a ceasefire between the Israeli government and the PLO. The agreement was brokered by the UN, US ambassador Habib, and the Saudi government, and was signed by UN Secretary-General Kurt Waldheim.!” Resistance leaders were encouraged by the fact that, despite numerous fatalities and enormous material damage, their military infrastructure had largely survived what they came to call “the sixth Palestinian—Israeli war.” Additional assurance came from the organization’s apparent ability to both withstand an Israeli offensive and to threaten the peace of the Galilee in northern Israel. Even so, the showdown exposed the vulnerability of the resistance’s fortified strongholds, and was seen as a precursor to a larger-scale offensive. Given the traditional American backing for Israel and Reagan’s vehement anti-terrorism stance, resistance leaders interpreted even the resumption of the talks between the PLO and the US officials, which had facilitated conclusion ofthe ceasefire agreement, as part of a scheme to curb the PLO. In addition, the Israeli offensive heightened tensions between the PLO and other local actors.'’ Preservation of the ceasefire. particularly in the Israeli-Lebanese scene, became an existential imperative, and thus. Fatah’s leadershi p endorsed a policy of

restraint.

No inherent contradiction existed between abstaining from the cross-border struggle and the overall, composite framework of strateg ic pragmatism. The search for political legitimacy legitimized and directed fluctuating emphases on modes of struggle and operational scenes, according to shifting situational requirements. Thus, the military option was emphasized over the years in order to force the Palestinian cause onto the Middle Eastern agenda, and then moderated so as to promote political credibility

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or ward off what appeared to be an existential threat. Yet harsh criticism against Fatah’s restrained policy was voiced by radical Arab governments and Palestinian organizations. Fatah leaders, for their part, portrayed their abstention from the crossborder struggle as a gesture of goodwill, intended to allay the pressure inflicted by the retaliatory raids on the people of Lebanon, elucidating the ceasefire as a “ceaseshelling” only. The DFLP and PFLP, however, were much less concerned over the issue of relations with the Lebanese public than over their position in the sphere of inter-organizational contest for leadership of the struggle. Harshly critical of Fatah’s restraint, and joined by the PLF, ALF, and PSF, these organizations called upon Fatah to perpetuate the struggle against Israel, stressing the need to act in solidarity with the struggle that was concurrently being waged in the territories.!°° Rejecting Sadat’s view ofthe ceasefire as a step toward mutual PLO-Israeli recognition, or rather suspecting that Sadat’s interpretation was well-founded, Syria, Libya, and Iraq urged rejectionist factions to defy Fatah’s desire for restraint and prove that this had not been the case. The inter-organizational dispute concerning the ceasefire culminated in sporadic encounters, in which Fatah forces fought against ADF and Sa’iga units. Predicting that the recurrence of an Israeli offensive was just a matter of timing and pretext, Fatah’s leadership sought to enhance the resistance’s deterrence potential by joining forces with left-wing Lebanese militias. The organization’s Revolutionary Council also sanctioned a strategic dialogue with Syria.'”’ The ceasefire was by and large preserved, particularly after radical organizations yielded to pressure from Fatah and limited cross-border actions to sporadic long-range shooting across the border, intended to threaten the Israeli civilian population in retaliation for IDF raids. Compensation for its deficient military power was also sought in the political sphere, by trying to foster international pressure that might hinder or delay any Israeli plan to demolish the Palestinian stronghold and/or appease the Maronite elite.'°* Both Palestinian and Syrian spokesmen warned against an impending invasion. From the perspective of Palestinian strategists, one scenario that appeared probable — and in fact in perfect harmony with the PLO’s grand strategy — projected a spillover of the imminent confrontation between the PLO and the IDF into a Syrian—Israeli skirmish, and from there into a broad-based regional conflict. In retrospect, however, even the

worst-case scenarios of the future were relatively optimistic. The probability that a grand Israeli offensive would result not only in the destruction of Palestinian military power in Lebanon, but also in its expulsion from the country altogether, was completely downplayed.

The War of June-September 1982 Since July 1981, the balance of pressure to eradicate the Palestinian stronghold in Lebanon had altered within the composition of Begin’s government, with its defense minister, Ariel Sharon, emerging as the principal advocate of the extreme interventionist approach. Seeking to dissolve the threat that emanated from the consolidation of Palestinian military power, the Israeli decision-making echelon sought to reverse the institutionalization process of the organization, and particularly worked to mitigate

the expansion of its regulative infrastructure and political influence in the West Bank, which called into question prospects for implementing the autonomy plan.'!? The 101

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intensification of air strikes inside Lebanon since the spring of 1982 marked a growing determination to accomplish these compound goals. Reluctant to invoke further air raids and an overall escalation, Fatah refrained

from responding even after intensive Israeli attacks, triggered by the April 3 killing of a senior Israeli diplomat in Paris. But in May 1982, internal pressures to respond increased, creating a situation in which inaction seemed to entail risks of its own.

Seeking to alleviate this threat, Fatah resorted to heavy shelling of the northern Galilee and braced itself for the inescapable outbreak of war. The shelling incited further Israeli air strikes, which escalated following the June 3 attempted assassination of Shlomo Argoy, the Israeli ambassador to London, by the Syrian-sponsored (and previously Iraqi-sponsored) Abu Nidal’s Fatah — Revolutionary Council (FRC).'!! On June 6, the IDF launched a full-fledged ground offensive against the Palestinian infrastructure in southern Lebanon. Enlivened by a relatively favorable strategic environment, Begin’s cabinet authorized the army to expel the PLO from any deployment that lay within forty kilometers of the Israeli border, and thus to establish a security zone in the border area.''? However, the Israeli government was not informed of the full extent of Sharon’s plan, which was designed to promote two interrelated objectives that far exceeded merely eradicating the PLO’s military infrastructure. The first was removal of all foreign forces from Lebanon. Next was the objective of restoring Maronite rule over the country.!° The war raged for seventy-six days.'4 Encountering only minor oppositio n, the IDF conquered the main Palestinian positions in the southern and central sections of Lebanon. Deserted by other Lebanese forces, the Palestinians fought alone. On June 9, the IDF also initiated a showdown with the Syrian army, aiming at destroying Syria’s anti-aircraft deployments in the eastern sector, so as to curb Damascus ’s influence on military and political developments elsewhere in the country. On June 11, Israel yielded to American pressure and ceased hostilities against Syrian forces, though the war against the PLO continued in full force.''* The IDF continue d its advance toward the Beirut-Damascus highway, effectively pursuing a comprehe nsive attempt to eliminate the PLO’s Lebanese infrastructure in its entirety.!!¢ The deficiency of Fatah’s deterrence potential was exposed by the very fact that Israel was not deterred from invading in the first place. The PLO’s fortified positions, as well as its semi-regular forces, failed to delay or significantly interfere with the swift movement of the IDF toward the country’s eastern and central sectors. Missions for which PLO forces had been trained, such as blowing up bridges and planting road mines, were not executed, and the demoralized troops fled their positions en masse. Rather, the main cores of resistance came from irregular forces — local militias positioned in refugee camps — attempting to no avail to obstruc t the progress of the IDF. Reaching the outskirts of Beirut, the IDF linked up with the Lebanese forces. Reluctant to alienate the Arab world, however, Jumayyi l’s militia largely refrained from active engagement against the Palestinians in western Beirut and elsewhere in the country, thus declining to play the role assigned to it by Israel. For its part, the IDF sought to avoid entanglements in built-up and densely inhabited areas, resorting instead to air raids, limited ground operations, heavy shelling, and a siege of Beirut. The blockade lasted for nine weeks, during which intensive diplomatic efforts were conducted, especially by the Reagan administration though Philip Habib, to arrange terms for departure of the Palestinian cadres from the city.

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On August 21, under massive military pressure from Israel, political pressure from the Lebanese government, and facing isolation in both the Lebanese and the regional spheres, Arafat accepted Habib’s proposal to withdraw his men from Beirut, despite opposition within Fatah. The offer included a pledge that a newly established multinational force, comprising French, American, and Italian units, would guarantee their

safety during the withdrawal.''” The evacuation of 8,144 Fatah, 2,651 PLA, and 3,603 Syrian troops, which was conducted under the supervision and protection of the multinational force, was concluded by early September.'!* Before long, however, the failure of Israel’s declared objective of emancipating Lebanon from the presence of foreign forces became clear. The Syrian army remained in Lebanon, as did the Israeli army, both frustrating, each in its own way, any possibility of constituting a pro-Israeli bloc in the country. While the ousting of the PLO’s regulative infrastructure from Lebanon did not annihilate the organization’s normative and political pillars of legitimacy and thus fully destroy its institutionalization process, it brought an end to the “Palestinian decade in Lebanon,”!"’ forcing the PLO into a search for recuperation and further institutionalization through yet another realignment of ends and means. The collapse of the PLO’s strategy of deterrence and its plan to impede a crossborder offensive by the IDF were not entirely military failures. Notwithstanding the imbalance of power between the Israeli and the Palestinian forces, explanations for the outcomes of the war may also be found in the institutional sphere of analysis. The PLO’s strategy, which incorporated fortification and differential activation of violent action, had become a core of hindrance for the institutional objectives it was designated to promote. As in Jordan in the late 1960s and in Lebanon throughout the 1970s, it was the institutional logic of solidification and the insistence on freedom of decisionmaking that ultimately served to alienate potential associates and supporters. More specifically, the regulative entrenchment of the Fatah-led PLO, which was defensive to a considerable degree, challenged other forces’ bids to domestic and regional influence, thus undermining political and normative support for the organization and consequent readiness to stand by its side at a moment of truth. This is not to say that a less far-reaching entrenchment policy on the part of the PLO would have prevented Israel from endeavoring to eradicate its infrastructure. Nor is this to say that greater adherence to the dictates of either Syria or any other Arab government would have ensured greater Arab efforts to protect the PLO at the expense of their own interests. A unified front comprised of Palestinian and Lebanese militias would not have been strong enough to overpower the IDF. Yet had the PLO not been left alone, caused in part by its own oblivion to the concerns of the host state and to greater Arab sensitivities, it would have been more complicated for the Israeli army to overcome military

and political resistance to the invasion or direct the immediate consequences of the conquest over the PLO.

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Edward Said noted that “above all, the Lebanese period in the history of the Palestinian national movement ~a period of eccentricity, unresolvable paradox, extraordinary international gains — was the first truly independent period of Palestinian national history.”! The Israeli invasion, or more specifically the consequent expulsion of the military and administrative infrastructure of the PLO from the country, brought this evolutionary climax to an end. The expulsion from Lebanon did not dissolve Fatah’s regulative core, and the organization’s normative pillar of support remained partially intact, as did some important political constituencies. However, having lost the territorial sanctuary, Fatah’s civil apparatuses moved away from their popular bases. The organization’s military capabilities and its ability to engage in violent struggle were badly impaired. In addition, the wide geographical dispersion of the various organizations following their expulsion from Lebanon undermine d Fatah’s ability, which was already challenged in Lebanon, to maintain unity within the ranks of the resistance.” The scattering ofthe organizations’ administrative and military units among various Arab states cast them under their control. resulting in a dramatic loss of independence in the areas of decision-making and bargaining power. Thus, Fatah faced serious challenges in the normative, regulative, and political dimensions of its institutional enterprise. Palestinian spokesmen presented the military defeat as a tactical setback. emphasizing the war’s negative impact on Israel’s economy and national resilience.3 Arguing that time was on the Palestinians’ side. they advised against any compromise, even in light of the military defeat. At the same time, however, the expulsi on prompted an institutional transformation that led to intense diplomatic maneuve ring, reflecting an attempt to translate the devastating effects of the war into political opportunities and promote what the military option had been so demonstrably unable to obtain. Prior to the expulsion from Beirut, Fatah’s bids for political legitim acy were based primarily on acts of violence, and when acquired, such political recogni tion was essentially channeled towards gaining support for further violent mobilization. This was the motivating factor behind efforts to reach accommodatio n with the Jordanian, Lebanese, and Syrian authorities. This was also the logic that had determined trans104

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lation ofinstitutional pragmatism into “the strategy of phases” following the 1973 war. The PLO’s expulsion from Lebanon, however, enhanced the emphasis on diplomacy in order to advance political ends as such, rather than as means to facilitate carrying out the violent struggle. The transformation was not immediately apparent. While the emphasis on diplomacy as a means to promote political ends became more pronounced than before, it remained both inconsistent and partial. Endeavoring to adjust to dynamic and unfavorable situational circumstances, Fatah’s strategy in the post-Lebanon era featured a series of attempted realignments between ends and means. Hence, the mid-1980s primarily constituted a period of transition, although the transitional essence of this period would only become clear in the early 1990s, by which time the organization had achieved an institutional climax and reached a point of open commitment to non-violent struggle. Formal endorsement of the diplomatic course of action as the principal mode of mobilization, however, would take place only following the eruption of the popular uprising in the Israeli-occupied territories at the end of the decade.

Political Maneuvers, Violent Backup There will be neither peace nor stability in this region by overlooking the PLO or the Palestinian people’s legitimate rights as approved by the UN. Yasir Arafat, on the Voice of Palestine?

The functional transition between violent and non-violent struggle that was observed in the mid-1980s was not entirely without precedent. Rather, it was in effect an extension of the phased strategy that had been formulated over the previous decade. In the 1970s, however, the Lebanese setting had allowed for a persistent application of the violent strategy, which in turn necessitated a primarily defensive military buildup. Against this backdrop, diplomacy was relegated to a secondary role. However, the expulsion from Lebanon was a major situational shift that enhanced institutional transformation toward emphasis on non-violent struggle. Even so, it would be overly simplistic to argue that the violent course of action had been abandoned entirely. As Khalil al-Wazir noted, “the armed struggle and the political struggle are both PLO objectives.”® The diplomatic ventures upon which Fatah’s leadership embarked in the aftermath of the expulsion from Lebanon engendered fierce opposition, both among organizations affiliated with the rejectionist front and from within the PLO itself. Leading resistance figures, among them members of Fatah, attempted to formulate an alternative, more radical course of action. Charging that “reactionary” Arab states shared the Israeli and American interest in neutralizing the Palestinian problem, they contended that given the circumstances after the war in Lebanon, no balanced and just settlement to the conflict could be achieved. Therefore, they argued, Fatah’s efforts to

have the US administration extract concessions from Israel were at best futile, and at worst treacherous. Instead of political or diplomatic undertakings, these voices called for a continuation of the violent struggle until the regional balance of power favored the Palestinian cause. Insisting that the struggle had to be held in all spheres of the 105

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y

conflict — military, economic, political, and social — they advocated continued collaboration with “progressive” (i.e., socialist) forces.’ Fatah’s

mainstream

leadership,

however,

embarked

on

the Jordanian

option,

hoping that cooperation with the monarchy would promote the PLO’s normative and regulative status in the West Bank, and thereby both uphold the organization’s bid to national representation and improve its regional position. Fatah also sought to use Jordanian territory as a substitute for the lost Lebanese foothold and the persistently sealed-off Syrian border, in the hope that Jordan might again be turned into a base for undertaking acts of violent struggle against Israel.’ An official decision to cooperate with Jordan in pursuing a political strategy was reached in February 1983 at the sixteenth PNC in Algiers and confirmed in Amman at the seventeenth PNC in November 1984. The rejectionist fronts, which opposed this policy, boycotted the Amman meeting.’ The shift in favor of the Jordanian option was enhanced by a threat posed by two separate yet associated proposals for a settlement that were then on the regional agenda. On September 1, 1982, the Reagan administration launched an initiative for a regional settlement on the basis of UNSCR 242. stipulating Palestinian autonomy in the West Bank and Gaza in association with Jordan following a five-year transition period, a freeze on Israeli settlement in these areas, and an eventual withdrawal by Israel in exchange for peace." In light of the administration’s reluctance to accept an independent Palestinian state, Jordan was assigned the role of the Palestinian party to the proposed negotiations. Pressure from rejectionist factions forced the tabling of the initiative by the PLO." A similar proposal came at an Arab summit in Fez in September 1982, at the initiative of Saudi Arabia and following a meeting of the Arab League. The summit deliberations were marked by tension between Syria and the (Israeli-backed) Lebanese government. While Syria demanded recognition ofits interests in Lebanon and thus legitimization of its presence in the country, Lebanon demanded the full withdrawal of all foreign forces present in the country, including PLO cadres, as well as Israeli and Syrian troops.'? Reflectin g Arab states’ wish to mitigate their inaction during the Israeli invasion and to avoid an open conflict with Damascus,

the summit’s resolution did not call for a withdrawa l of the PLO

from

Lebanon and only called for implementation of the 1969 Cairo agreement. At the same time, the resolution accorded the UN a central role in implementing a settlement that would guarantee peace among all the states in the region, including a Palestinian state. As such, it did not exclude Israel from the envisioned framework of regional negotiations and an eventual settlement. Therefore, the proposal, which was supported by Syria, was nevertheless rejected by both mainstream and rejectionist Palestinian organizations.'> Rejection ofthe Reagan initiative by Israel, Syria, and the USSR rendered prospects for promoting regional talks rather dim. Still, Palestinian leaders could not ignore the challenge that was emanating from the endorsement ofthe notion ofanegotiated settlement at the Fez summit.'4 Thus, Fatah set out to prepare for the remote yet still conceivable possibility that negotiations might actually take place regarding the future ofthe territories and focus on efforts to implement the autonomy plan, which had been advocated by Cairo since the signing of the peace treaty between Israel and Egypt. The PLO rejected the autonomy plan not only because adhering to the Egyptian line would inevitably imply recognition of Israel, but particularly becaus e it stipulated a return to the pre-1967

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configuration, in which the West and the East Banks of the Jordan River constituted one political entity. Endeavoring to repel related threats to Fatah’s institutional prospects, leading figures in the organization contemplated an eventual establishment ofaPalestinian—Jordanian confederation. Striving to bypass the hurdles of non-recognition of the PLO, Fatah articulated provisions for a joint Jordanian—Palestinian delegation to the pending talks. For its part, the Hashemite regime sought to coordinate with the PLO so as to legit-

imize its claim to authority over the West Bank. The monarchy was apprehensive over the de facto annexation of the territories by Israel and the concurrent Israeli endeavor to establish a pro-Israeli leadership in the territories.'° Another source of concern was the mounting assertiveness of violent protest in the territories, which threatened to

elicit harsh counteraction on the part of Israel and result in a new flow of migration from the West Bank into Jordan.'’ Viewing accommodation with Israel to be a prerequisite for its own stability and growth, the monarchy endeavored to facilitate US-brokered negotiations by cooperating with the PLO.'* This way, Jordan also hoped to thwart claims by rival Arab states, particularly Syria, Libya, and Iraq, to ascendance over Palestinian-related politics. However, various impediments along the road to achieving US recognition of the PLO blocked the political path. Prominent among these were rejection by the US administration of the idea of Palestinian selfdetermination; Israel’s rejection of the Reagan plan; the PLO’s indisposition to accept UNSCR 242; and the mounting tension in the territories in the form of anti-Israeli protests and Israel’s harsh counter-dissidence measures. After several months of discussions, Jordan rejected the Reagan plan, blaming the PLO for insisting on independent representation.'” Reagan’s plan was tabled, but its underlying logic was far from nullified. In 1985, against the backdrop of rapprochement between the US administration and several Arab states, among them Saudi Arabia, Egypt, and Jordan, prospects for setting regional talks on track appeared to be improving. Effectively admitting that acting independently would be impossible in light of the centrality of the Palestinian issue in the regional political scene and thereby acknowledging the PLO’s political relevance, King Hussein persuaded the administration to approve a joint Palestinian—Jordanian delegation to the pending talks. At that time, Hussein sought to promote his idea of a Jordanian—Palestinian federation by neutralizing the implications of the Fez proposal, which reaffirmed the status of the PLO and called for the constitution of an independent Palestinian state. His venture on political cooperation reflected an agreement that was reached between the monarchy and the organization on February 11, 1985. Circumventing the problematic issues of Palestinian representation and future statehood as well as the lack of Arab legitimacy for Jordan’s claim to representation of Palestinian issues, the agreement stressed the common goal of establishing a Jordanian—Palestinian confederation in the territories.” The Amman accord was high on the agenda of the Arab summit, which convened in August 1985 in Casablanca. The absence of several states, particularly Syria, which boycotted the conference in a demonstration of opposition to political coordination between the PLO and Jordan, allowed expressions of general support for the accord. However, the concluding resolution of the summit reflected the indirect veto power of radical forces. The Fez resolution was reiterated, and thus Jordan was denied a role in determining the future of the Palestinian problem. In addition, the summit resolved to

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support the convening of an international peace conference, under UN auspices and with participation of all the permanent members of the Security Council, the PLO, and “other parties concerned,” which reassured Damascus and other rejectionist actors that the US would not dominate the eventual peace process. While the summit reiterated the PLO’s right to independent decision-making and therefore confirmed its political legitimacy, the actual rejection of the Amman accord blocked the only path that appeared to be feasible at that time toward PLO participation in a regional peace process and translation of its political legitimacy into tangible gains. The accord also stirred intense disputes among Palestinian organizations. More significantly, it encountered loud opposition inside the PLO and Fatah itself. The DFLP did not join the rejectionist front, yet like the hard-line leaders in Fatah (such as Salah Khalaf and Arafat’s political adviser Farug Qaddumi), they criticized the concessions that had to be made in order to allow for the PLO to partake in a regional political process.?! Other radical organizations, including the PFLP, PFLP-GC, and the Palestinian Popular Struggle Front (PPSF), joined forces, and under Syrian auspices formed the

Palestinian National Salvation Front (PNSF). In both structural and political orientation, the PNSF closely resembled the historical rejectionist front, essentially embodying the challenges facing Fatah’s intra-Palestinian legitimacy, given its newfound readiness to compromise political independence in exchange for political respectability. Taking advantage of the PLO’s regulative and political weaknesses and also seeking to frustrate attempts to conclude a peace treaty between Israel and the Lebanese Maronite elite, Damascus moved to gain control over, Palestin ian forces left on Lebanese soil.” In early June 1983, Fatah cadres stationed in the Syrian-controlled Be’ka valley took up arms against forces loyal to the organization’s leadership.” Syria openly supported the rebellion, allowing Arafat’s offices in Damascus to be seized by dissident factions. Conceding to the dissidents’ demand, Arafat pledged to clean up financial and administrative irregularities, yet rejected their request to renounce international diplomacy altogether. In the ensuing battles, Fatah loyalists were pushed out of the Be’ka valley by the rebels, who were joined by Sa’iqa and PFLP-GC militants. Refuge was found for a short while in the northern area of Tripoli, but in December 1983, following Arafat’s return to northern Lebanon, Fatah loyalists were driven out of Tripoli by Syrian-sponsored Palestinian forces backed by Syrian troops.*4 The military defeat of Arafat’s forces reflected Fatah’ s political weakness. Arab leaders responded to his calls for help with no more than declarations of support. However, following the expulsion from Tripoli, popula r support for the organization mounted in the West Bank and among Palestinians in the Gulf states and Jordan. Thus, the normative legitimacy served to compen sate the organization’s standing in the face of regulative and political deficiencies. In an effort to further the PLO’s relevance to the regional political scene, Arafat depart ed from Tripoli directly to Cairo. The demonstrative restitution of links with Egypt, after years of the disengagement that followed the initiation of the Israeli-Egyptian peace process, was yet another testimony to Fatah’s growing reliance on the politic al path as a principal means of institutionalization. Certainly, Fatah’s pragmatic nucleus — inclu ding Hani and Khaled al-Hasan, Khalil al-Wazir, and Chairman Arafat himse lf — expected the political path to benefit the PLO’s institutional enterprise more than adherence to the rejectionist line. Yet no

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actual achievements were registered with this regard. Western governments, particularly the Reagan administration and the British government, demanded that the PLO recognize UNSCRs 242 and 338 in exchange for public recognition of the organization. This requirement alienated even the most pragmatic of Fatah’s leaders. Also detrimental to Fatah’s efforts to attain international recognition was the violent campaign, which was concurrently conducted against Israeli and Western targets by rejectionist factions.* Nor did the PLO’s increasing emphasis on the political path necessarily downgrade the mobilizing power of violent struggle as seen by various factions affiliated with the organization. Thus, violent struggle, especially at the border and inside the territories, was still considered to be a primary means for garnering normative legitimacy and for preserving the regulative prevalence of the PLO. Violence also remained an effective means for demonstrating the relevance of the PLO to regional politics, as a means to foster political recognition. As Hani al-Hasan noted, “the armed struggle sows, and the political struggle reaps.”° Since 1974, however, violent struggle in the international arena was considered at variance with the objective ofattaining political legitimacy and thus incompatible with the strategy of phases. This rendered international terrorism a preferred course of action only for those factions that sought to thwart Fatah’s political ambitions.?” Even though world opinion grew increasingly cognizant of ideological disagreements and differing tactical preferences among the various resistance groups, assaults perpetrated by other organizations still threatened to harm Fatah’s efforts at recognition. This was true of violent struggle in general, and particularly regarding international assaults. Working to vitiate the detrimental effects of international terrorism on the PLO’s political position and striving as well to preempt an escalation of Israel’s counter-PLO drive, President Mubarak convinced Arafat to pledge to abstain from terrorism outside the occupied territories.** Given the depth ofthe political impasse, Fatah leaders found it difficult to convince antagonists — both those affiliated with Fatah and those from other organizations — of the benefits that could be gained from cooperating with Jordan. Relations between the organization and the monarchy oscillated for several months against the backdrop of intense debates inside the PLO on the issue, accompanied by mutual attempts by each to play the Syrian card off the other.”” The Jordanian authorities, for their part, officially opted out from the agreement in July 1986.*°° Already in October 1985, the PLO offices in Amman had been closed and Fatah leaders were expelled from the country.*! The immediate trigger for the move was subversive activity conducted by Fatah in Jordanian universities. However, it seems clear that Fatah embarked on this course of mobilization in anticipation of an eventual cessation of dialogue.** The debate inside the PLO on coordination with Jordan revolved around the issue of independent decision-making. This is not to say that the principle of political independence was an automatic deal-breaker. After all, absolute political independence was not a practical option for the PLO. Embarking on the path of cooperation with Jordan, Fatah actually connected to the pragmatic camp to which Jordan, Egypt, and Saudi Arabia belonged. Yet when it became clear that cooperation with Jordan would not only fail to attain the desired political gains, but also do harm to the apparent national unity and thus to the inter-organizational regulative and political ascendance of Fatah, its appeal rapidly faded. As when facing past strategic crossroads, the final decision was determined by the desire to preserve unity in the ranks of the PLO.*

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By 1987 it appeared that the Fatah-led PLO had survived the immediate impact of the expulsion from Lebanon. Fatah’s regulative infrastructure in Lebanon was partly restored. Extensive resources were dedicated to protecting the refugee camps of western Beirut, Tripoli, and Sidon. Additional forces were concentrated in the Syriancontrolled Be’ka valley. In late 1986, tension between factions affiliated with the PLO

and Amal, who seized power in Beirut in 1984, culminated in an open showdown as

Amal, with the blessing of Damascus, launched a concerted offensive against Palestinian refugee camps in the vicinity of the capital and in the south. The assault was repelled, and while far from resembling its pre-1982 scope and strength, the Palestinian presence in the country was reestablished. The war effort against the common enemy in Lebanon served to unify the Palestinian ranks, in itself a significant institutional accomplishment for Fatah. Fatah’s intra-Palestinian position was also reinforced by the cancellation of joint political action with Jordan and the consequent rapprochement between the pragmatic and the radical camps of the PLO. Thus, the eighteenth session of the PNC, which convened in Algiers in April 1987 and was marked by the return of the PFLP and DFLP to the PLO, constituted an impressive show of unity.*> Despite successive crises and setbacks, the PLO also managed to

preserve most of its financial assets.*° At the same time, however, since the organiz-

ation was effectively both isolated in the Arab world and excluded from efforts on getting the international conference back on track, these gains could not be translated into further political accomplishments.

Back to the Territories Faced with a political impasse, Fatah gradually shifted the regulati ve and normative focus back to its last territorial option — the West Bank and Gaza Strip. The intention to escalate the violent struggle in the territories, at which the Cairo declaration of

November

7, 1985 had hinted, was reiterated by the PLO

Central Council, which

convened later that month in Baghdad.*” The Council’s conclud ing statement affirmed the need to escalate the armed struggle against the Israeli occupation and to continue “to support . . . the steadfastness [of the Palestinian people] by all means.” Awareness that this would likely damage the organization’s public image was indicated by the Council’s denunciation of “all acts of terrorism, be [they] by states, individuals, or groups, against innocent and unarmed people everywhere.” Revived focus on the occupied territories did not result directly from the expulsion from Lebanon. Rather, it addressed institutional needs emanating from political setbacks: the abortive political partnership with Jordan as well as challenges to the PLO’s institutional enterprise then forming inside the territories, Aiming at winning over the PLO’s constituency, the Jordanian government inaugurated a five-year development plan for the West Bank and also launched development projects in the refugee camps on Jordanian soil.*? The shared interest in denyin g the PLO an official role in determining the future of the West Bank stimul ated a secret Jordanian-—Israeli exchange on principles that would enable an interna tional conference. In April 1987, an agreement was reached in London between King Hussein and then Israeli foreign minister Shimon Peres on an international confer ence that would be the framework for direct Israeli_Jordanian negotiations. The PLO was, of course, to be excluded from

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the agenda. Underlying the Jordanian interest in reaching an understanding with Israel, in addition to the traditional wish to sidestep the PLO, was the desire to improve relations with the United States. As for the Israeli government, it sought to utilize the Jordanian-PLO division to advance direct talks with the monarchy and particularly to undermine the PLO’s influence in the West Bank. No less alarming, from the perspective of Fatah’s institutional interests, was the concurrent realization of one of its worst-case scenarios: the emergence of self-reliant political actions in the territories. In theory, the West Bank and Gaza Strip were the resistance’s most promising and legitimate spheres of mobilization. But as far as Fatah was concerned, following the post-June 1967 failure to establish an effective organizational infrastructure there, the territories lost much of their institutional appeal. Israeli resolve to prevent the formation of a legitimate Palestinian leadership rendered prospects there dim for establishing a competent organizational core. At the same time, the institutional prospects of footholds in countries neighboring Israel — Jordan and Lebanon — were incomparably greater (indeed, rather too much so, from the perspectives of the rulers of these states). Concern over the possibility that its own institutional drive in the territories would enhance the growth of local leadership outside of the PLO’s control also prevented Fatah from placing a greater and more systematic emphasis on regulative entrenchment there. But in the mid-1980s Fatah’s interest in entrenching itself in the territories was revived. Concrete threats to the organization’s status that evolved from within the territories were what rendered renewed emphasis on regulative and normative mobilization there all the more imperative. In the 1980s, a process of political renaissance was underway in the territories, marked by the simultaneous decline of pro-Jordanian influences and intensified by efforts to create a viable infrastructure for anti-Israel dissent. The process was led by two local and essentially rival currents: the national and religious blocs. These divergent camps offered different perspectives on the roots of the Palestinian grievances, and their proposed solutions to the Palestinian predicament were articulated in different terms. Nationalist elements espoused the establishment of a secular, democratic Palestinian state as their ultimate goal, and not necessarily at the expense of the State of Israel. Religious leaders, on the other hand, advocated war against Israel until an interim goal was achieved: the establishment of an Islamic state in the whole of Palestine, as a phase toward Islamization of the Arab world as a whole.*” Notwithstanding these differences, both currents had a lot in common.

Both focused on the

Israeli occupation as the immediate source of the distress confronting the Palestinian people. Both perceived a direct showdown with the Israeli authorities to be the primary means to advance their respective goals. Finally, the consolidation of both groups attested to the dramatic recognition of a growing assertiveness among the residents of the occupied territories and their ripening inclination to confront the Israeli authorities head-on. Underlying this awakening were demographic, economic, and political processes that had taken place in the territories since June 1967 and especially since the rightwing Likud government had assumed office in 1977. Economic recession had set in, due to a combination of high population growth rates and a recent decline in oil revenues that led to reduced aid from Arab states. No less harmful to the economy of the occupied territories, a host of new regulations and administrative devices were introduced, intended by the Likud government to restrict locally-initiated develop-

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ment and thereby enhance dependence upon the Israeli economy. With the intent of integrating the territories into Israel, the Likud government also increased land confiscations and expanded Jewish settlement to densely populated urban and suburban areas, particularly in the West Bank.*! Seeking to dislodge the territories’ nationallyoriented leadership, the authorities suppressed local figures that demonstrated a pro-PLO orientation. Nationalist mayors were removed from office in 1982, leading figures were deported, and contacts with the PLO outlawed.*2 The relevance of the traditional urban elite was further undercut by an imposed structural change: Israel’s 1981 establishment of the civil administration, which assumed responsibility for municipal budgets and the provision of daily services to the population. Concomitantly, an iron fist policy was endorsed, aimed at suppressing violent and nonviolent dissent.** Slowly but surely, these undertakings rendered the de facto annexation increasingly evident, and hence increasingly provocative. At the same time, a new social force came to the forefront of the Palestinian national scene —an educated, politically conscious, and militant younger generation. Compared to their predecessors, this generation was far more inclined to protest the oppressive and harassing manifestations of the Israeli occupation and counter the government

measures intended to impede assertion of economic, cultural, or political liberties.*5

Thus, the combination of economic distress and political suppression nourished popular unrest, which took the form of grass-roots activism in search of leadership, guidance, and regulating mechanisms. The young and more assertive generation was primed to assume responsibility for social matters and political mobilizatio n. Organizations of collective action — social institutions, political forums, and apparatuses of popular-based protest and struggle — proliferated, especially in the West Bank.

Students in the universities and colleges, which since 1967 had expanded and multi-

plied in the territories, led the institutional enterprise. In the 1980s, the campuses became centers of mobilization for ideologies of all stripes, and the scene for interorganizational competition over political influence. Institutional projects were considerably local in their initiation. Yet their organizers, however critical of the PLO’s leadership, were for the most part affiliated with established resistance organizations. Indeed, the proliferation of associations and unions could not be entirely dissociated from the incremental regulative and normative buildup over the years by Fatah and other resistance organizations in the territories. Notably active among Fatah-affiliated associations was the Shabiba — an open network of local youth councils for social activity, established in 1981 and operated openly.*° Shabiba councils multiplied rapidly throughout the West Bank. In January 1983, shortly after the expulsion from Lebanon. they were organized within the framework of the national Shabiba association and thereafter their actions extended to the Gaza Strip as well. Additional institutions constituted by Fatah in the early 1980s included the Women’s Union for Social Works and numero us locally-based labor and trade unions, charities, sports clubs, health and welfare associations, newspapers, research institutions, and student unions.‘’ Before long, this institutional enterprise marked an embryonic phase in the post-Lebanon shift of Fatah to the occupied territories, which focused on efforts to bring the diffuse popular movement there under the organization’s regulative control. Similar efforts were conducted by other resistance organizations, particularly the Palestinian Communist Party (PCP), the two leading

leftist Fronts, and the Islamic bloc. In the 1980s, the network of institutions evolved

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into a dense and composite infrastructure that cut across class boundaries and was sustained by mass enrollment and support in rural villagers and urban-leaning towns. As on the campuses, the multiplication of the associations reflected a diversity of ideological allegiances and organizational affiliations, as well as inter-organizational contests for power. In any case, Fatah’s normative and regulative dominance in the sphere of Palestinian politics was mirrored in the institutional buildup in the occupied territories as well.** Association with resistance organizations endowed the locally-initiated institutions with legitimacy and public standing. At the same time, the regulative entrenchment was so encompassing because it essentially met indigenous needs and local desires for social and political assertion. In addition, the very likelihood of the emergence of an alternative leading force — as indicated by the rising popularity of the Islamic bloc and other locally organized associations — stimulated Fatah’s mobilization enterprise even more than institutional interests emanating from the political impasse. In other words, Fatah’s regulative entrenchment in the territories in the 1980s was largely determined by the need to quell an explicit institutional threat that was emerging there. Particularly alarming was the mounting assertiveness of local leaders, who supported the PLO and adopted its rhetoric, yet were not necessarily affiliated with any one organization. Some of these leaders were probing courses of action that threatened to undermine the PLO’s bid to exclusive representation. Seeking to advance an official Palestinian representation to the pending talks on the future of the territories, local leaders urged the PLO to accept UNSCRs 242 and 338. Having failed to persuade the PLO to reconcile itself to this, some even suggested that the organization approve of participation of a delegation from the occupied territories in the political process.” A more passive approach emphasized the presumed implications of the demographic balance between Israel and the territories. Referring to the demographic factor as the ultimate weapon in the struggle against Israel, Palestinian spokesmen expressed confidence that in the future Israel would inevitably be transformed into a bi-national state, and that its Jewish community would eventually be overcome by rising numbers of Palestinians. Fatah’s leaders must have shared this assessment concerning the long-term implications of demographic factors. However, popular endorsement of this logic also insinuated a threatening possibility of accommodation with the Israeli rule.’ Equally alarming, from the perspective of Fatah’s institutional interests, was the probability that the very intensification of the discussion on how to terminate the occupation would enhance self-reliant activism and consolidation of an independent leadership for the struggle. This core of concern was by no means detached from reality, given the seeds of civil uprising that had begun to take root in the occupied territories by the mid-1980s.°' The waves of demonstrations and disturbances that swept the West Bank and Gaza Strip seemed spontaneous and disorganized. Yet on many occasions, they clearly coincided with political developments. The volume and scope of disturbances that took place on dates of political significance spelled the existence of a guiding hand behind them.” The apparent scheme behind the spontaneity appeared to corroborate allegations that concrete instructions were being given to activate the masses, and that these directives

. were originating mainly from Fatah leadership outside of the territories. leadership, Fatah and authorities Israeli the both for concern, of source A growing was the increasing role of local activists, belonging to either the national or the Islamic 113

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blocs, in inciting the masses.°? Mounting grass-roots militancy was also displayed by the rise in assaults perpetrated by locally organized cells and by individuals of no organizational association.** An additional salient manifestation of crisis was the growing role of the population at large in disturbances and demonstrations protesting the rising numbers of Palestinians killed in clashes with the security forces. Rates of violence increased in absolute terms.*’ The difficulties that Fatah encountered following the removal of its offices from Amman could not fully explain the growing share of locally initiated violence relative to the overall volume of the struggle.°° Arguably, the crisis had been sparked by the return to the territories of 1,150 activists following their release from Israeli prisons in exchange for three Israeli soldiers who had been held captive in Lebanon. However, while such a development might explain the momentum, it could not explain how those tendencies formed in the first place.*’ Rising to the challenge, Fatah supplemented its organizational buildup in the territories with efforts to carry out cross-border assaults. Its goal was to score regulative and normative gains in the institutional competition that was expanding to include indigenous forces from the territories. Other organizations followed suit.°’ The Israeli government, for its part, sought to curb dissidence by intensifying counterme asures, including administrative arrests and deportations, jail sentences, curfews, and the closing of universities and colleges. These measures served to reduce the volume of disturbances only temporarily. Endeavoring to undermine activist motivations, Shimon Peres’s government, which had come to power in 1985, also endorsed a plan to improve standards of living in the territories. The economic plan was introduced in

June 1986, and was intended to be carried out in coordination with Jordan in line with

the emerging Israeli-Jordanian political cooperation. Yet most of all, the move testified to Israel’s failure to acknowledge the nature and intensity of the motivations underlying the civil unrest. Ironically, the Israeli authorities were not alone in the failure to recognize the surge in grass-roots resentment of the occupation. The attention of the PLO leadership focused primarily on the political impasse that had deepened with the relative insignificance accorded to the Palestinian issue on the agenda of the November 1987 Arab summit in Amman, which overall constituted yet another confirmation of Hussein’s inter-Arab position. Fatah found comfort in the ongoin g organizational entrenchment in the territories and in the formal unity of the ranks under its control, attained at the eighteenth PNC of April 1987. Fatah and other organiz ations, however, failed to acknowledge the progressive culmination of the unrest into an encompassing popular uprising, and thus into a decisive situational shift.

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The Eighth Institutional Phase, 1988-1993 Political Lead, Violent Backup

Politics of Violent Mobilization Our people will bring forth a new revolution. They will engender a movement much more powerful than ours, better armed and thus more dangerous for the Zionists. There is no doubting the irrepressible will of the Palestinian people to pursue their struggle, come what may. Abu lyad, My Home, My Land!

The intifada (literally, an uprising) was spawned by sentiments cultivated during years of Palestinian national and economic grievances, but flared up spontaneously on December 9, 1987 in the northern Gaza Strip following a local incident, igniting the already-tense territories ablaze. Disturbances spread rapidly throughout the Gaza Strip and the West Bank, engulfing towns, villages, and refugee camps. Incited and directed by mobile groups of local activists, protesters erected roadblocks and confronted the security forces with barrages of petrol bombs and stones. The Israeli—Palestinian conflict crossed the threshold into a new phase, in which the territories were transformed into the main locus of the confrontation. The growing propensity of Palestinians in the territories to confront the authorities directly, which was already evident earlier in the 1980s, and the concurrent proliferation in the territories of a grass-roots organizational network, clearly indicated that such a development was in the offing. Yet both the Israeli authorities and the PLO leadership were surprised by the intensity of the ensuing riots. Moreover, in the first weeks of the intifada, both parties read the disturbances as just another wave in a series of esca-

lating confrontations. Senior Israeli political and military echelons accused the PLO of stirring up the riots in an attempt to restore its shattered political standing. Adhering to the rationale that had governed its dealings with violent and non-violent protest against the occupation for several decades, the Israeli government reacted harshly. Israel’s countermeasures, however, failed to subdue the protestors and instead aggravated the turmoil.’ i the riots was not inciting in role alleged Its indecisive.’ was Fatah’s initial response 115

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denied. In fact, spokesmen generally argued that the uprising was an extension of the struggle that had been conducted by the organization throughout the years, and was in fact the realization of a long-term strategic plan. According to Arafat, “the sweeping uprising of our people was not accidental, but came as the result of a political decision in coordination with the PLO.” This is not to say that the local essence of the intifada was entirely eclipsed. After all, there was little hard evidence to back up conjectures as to Fatah’s concrete role in triggering the riots. Also, Fatah’s leadership was aware of the political benefits that could be exacted from a struggle fueled by indigenous motivations,° representing what it itself had attempted unsuccessfully in 1967. At the same time, upon eruption, it was clear that the intifada extended beyond the institutional boundaries of the PLO, going well past the normative influence and regulative control of its affiliated organizations. Realizing Salah Khalaf’s prediction, a new force was on the streets, challenging not only the Israeli occupation but the PLO itself as well. This challenge could only be fended off if the uprising could be transformed into an institutional opportunity. Hence, in the first year of the intifada, Fatah focused on efforts to co-opt the struggle and secure regulative control over the events. While a goal in its own right, the attempt to secure regulative supremacy was also intended to strengthen the organization’s political legitimacy and its self-appointed exclusive prerogative to translate the struggle into tangible political accomplishments. The first phase of the intifada was marked by overwhelming enrollment of the territories’ population. The confrontation focused on two principal courses of action. One was violent struggle, and the other was a campaign of civil disobedience. Violence involved demonstrating masses, organized cells, and individuals.° The government of Yitzhak Shamir, with Yitzhak Rabin as minister of defense, initially resorted to restoring order by intensifying its iron fist policy. The firmness with which the Israeli authorities responded to the uprising intensified as the months went by and initial assessments proved false that the violence, like previous waves of disturbances, would be short-lived. Israeli responses focused on strikes and punishments against hard-core activists and rioters, and included use of live ammunition, rubber-co ated bullets, and tear gas. The presence of the security forces in the territories was dramatically increased. In an attempt to quash disturbances, the authorities conducted mass administrative arrests.’ Leading figures were deported and houses of individuals engaged in the armed struggle or inciting demonstrations were demolishe d or sealed. In reaction to mass disturbances or specific assaults, schools, universities, and colleges were shut down, as were various local institutions established in the pre-intifa da days. Economic sanctions were implemented and frequent bans on crossing the Green Line into Israel were imposed on the 100,000-120,000 Palestinians who, prior to the intifada, had earned their living there. Prolonged curfews and closures on large areas were enforced. The changed atmosphere in the territories was also affirm ed by the less spectacular yet remarkably pervasive civil disobedience campaign. The campaign focused on frequent commercial and general strikes, boycotts on tax payments and Israeli-made goods, and small-scale yet prominent attempts to develop local alternatives to Israeli industrial manufactures. While unquestionably it was the cycle of violence that overshadowed other manifestations of the uprising and attracted world attention, it was the encompassing civil disobedience and the rise of the younger generation that embodied the spirit of the intifada. Resoluteness by the local population to free itself from Israeli rule became the collective ambition. 116

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The uprising became a magnet for world attention, Particularly impressive, and hence effective in mobilizing sympathy for the Palestinian struggle, was the provocative manner in which young children faced down well-equipped, heavily-armed soldiers —an image that would be stamped onto the international consciousness for many years to come. Indeed, the responsiveness of children and adolescents to intifada activists was testimony to the profound change of mindset that was underlying the eruption of the uprising. The normative support for the struggle consolidated as the uprising became the essence of life in the territories and the focus of Palestinian-related politics. In the first weeks of the uprising, while the leadership in exile remained uncertain as to the nature of the events, local leaders moved to supply structure and guidance for the struggle. Particularly active in this regard were leaders of the Islamic movement, who in fact credited the uprising to their extensive educational works in previous years. Also set in motion, inciting and directing the disturbances, were the Shabiba councils. Social associations that were established in the territories in the 1980s became intensively involved in the complicated task of addressing the daily needs of the population. Khalil al-Wazir, in charge of Fatah’s enterprise in the territories, supervised Shabiba activities. In so doing, Wazir gave Fatah a role in directing the rioting.? Remarkably significant in terms of regulating the intifada was the formation in the uprising’s first month of a clandestine directing body — the Unified National Command of the Uprising (UNC). The UNC was initiated by the PFLP. It was dominated by West Bank intellectuals, mostly affiliated with left-wing organizations.'’ Also represented in the UNC were the DFLP, PCP, and Fatah. Notwithstanding the association of members to the diverse

organizations’ headquartered outside the territories, the UNC’s center of gravity was local. Its composition, whereby every participating faction was at least formally assigned equal weight, reflected each party’s rather reluctant recognition that no single faction could lead the struggle alone. With the passage oftime, open contention would emerge inside the essentially fragmented UNC, exacerbating the traditional tension among its composite factions. Yet upon inception, the message that was conveyed by the united command echoed the atmosphere that prevailed in the territories in the early months of the intifada. As seen from the territories, the struggle and the immediate needs of the people in revolt were more significant than each organization’s particular claims to prevalence over the national movement. Structurally, the UNC was loose and decentralized. It was based on the network

of numerous popular committees and strike forces that were formed in the 1980s and operated throughout the territories on a local basis. The committees traversed organizational affiliations and were in charge of regulating daily life and providing for the basic needs of the people, while the strike forces directed the confrontational struggle. The local nuclei enjoyed a considerable measure of freedom of action, verging on unchecked power. Demographics and social profiles were telling as to the profound change that Palestinian society had undergone in the years that preceded the intifada: by and large they were comprised of young activists, outside the traditional economic or social elite. Many of them had served prison terms for participation in the struggle against Israel. The prison phase, in fact, accorded them a measure of street-level credibility. The creation of the UNC became publicly known through a series of leaflets that, beginning with the first month of the intifada, were circulated throughout the territo117

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ries. Within a short period of time, addresses, also broadcast by Voice of Palestine from San’a and Baghdad, assumed a standard format.'! They stressed long-term objectives and also addressed immediate issues as they unfolded, such as operational coordination and the treatment of those who collaborated with Israel.!2 The other sections instructed the population as to the manifestations of the struggle in all spheres of life. The calls stressed the need to perpetuate the confrontation, specifically encouraging assaults against Israeli soldiers and settlers of the territories. Yet by and large they recommended refraining from the use of firearms so as to preserve the popular features of the struggle and to avoid provoking a harsh reaction on the part of the security forces.'* Emphasis was placed on the civil disobedience campaign. Leaflets called for tax resistance, set dates for general and commercial strikes, specified days of protest in solidarity with detainees or casualties of the uprising, and organized sit-ins and visits to relatives of the victims. Self-support, as a means to disengage from Israeli rule and its economy, was urged through the boycott of Israeli products, the development of local businesses and resources, and the resignation of the 17,000 Palestinians employed by the Israeli police and the civil administration.'* Within a short period, the Fatah-led PLO acquired decisive influence over the UNC's decision-making processes. The first leaflet issued by the UNC was signed by the Command only.'5 From the second leaflet onward, calls were signed by both the Command and the PLO. Indeed, Fatah’s first concrete move to assert control over the uprising focused on the incorporation of the UNC under the aegis of the PLO. Fatah’s leadership accepted the principle of a unified leadership, apparently due to considerations of normative legitimacy, but worked nonetheless to secure its primacy over the UNC. Ironically, consolidation of Fatah dominance over the UNC was significantly facilitated by the Israeli determination to eliminate members of the local leadership through mass arrests.'® Also beneficial for Fatah’s bid to prevalence was its control over financial resources and its ability to determine the scope of activity of local forces by differential provision of money. Funds transferred to institutions in the territories secured their subordination to the leadership in exile. At the same time, specific associations were denied support due to fear that their further consolidation would

undermine the position of the leadership abroad.'’ The UNC. for its part, accepted its role as the PLO’s “fighting arm in the territories.” professing subservience to the leadership in exile and affirming the statement issued in early February 1988 by the PLO Executive Committee, that “the uprising had affirmed the unity of our people’s representation by their complete rallying around the PLO, the leader of our people’s struggle and their sole legitimate representative, thus shattering the illusions and the wagers of our peoples’ enemies on the possibility of sidestepping the PLO.”!8 Opposition to Fatah’s leading position stemmed in part from the rising influence of the Islamic camp. Hamas, which was founded on a decentralized network ofIslamic associations affiliated with the Muslim Brotherhood. and Islamic Jihad sought to utilize the uprising for advancing their strategic goal of establis hing an Islamic state on the whole of Palestine.' The wish to preserve their ideologi cal and organizational distinctiveness kept Hamas and Islamic Jihad out of the UNC. The limited coordination that existed between the UNC and Hamas in the early days of the intifada was due primarily to the efforts of Khalil al-Wazir. After his death, however, Hamas distanced itself from the UNC, turning the intifada into a sphere of competition for leadership ofthe national struggle. 118

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The absence of leading Gazan figures from the ranks of the UNC served to reinforce the position of the Islamists in the Gaza Strip over the course of the uprising. The Islamic organizations issued independent leaflets instructing daily activities and stipulating strategic goals that bore a clear religious imprimatur. Since the UNC and Hamas issued separate calls for commemorative days and strike days, popular compliance became an indication of their respective status. During the intifada and at least in part in response to the Israeli crackdown on its regulative infrastructure in Gaza, Hamas expanded its activity to the West Bank. Feeding on support from the religious institutions there, which were historically associated with the Hashemite monarchy,

Hamas established a network of education and welfare associations in the traditional stronghold of organizations affiliated with the nationalist movement. Aware of the normative legitimacy enjoyed by locally-based forces, Fatah adopted a policy of co-option rather than competition. Fatah’s success in establishing regulative control over the UNC can be seen as a natural extension of the historical bond between the “inside” and the “outside” and of the organization’s dominance over the resistance movement as a whole. But the contest with Hamas was a different story. Acknowledging the normative weight of adherence to Islamic themes, the organizations affiliated with the UNC avoided an all-out attack against Hamas, save for the

PCP. Fatah’s leadership downplayed the influence of the religious camp in the territories, while blurring its distinctive approach to political questions. The Hamas leadership, for its part, cautioned against any schism and urged that the Palestinians’ shared destiny be granted highest priority. Yet encouraged by its locally-based normative legitimacy and regulative infrastructure, it demonstrated its intention to institutionalize as a viable alternative to the PLO. As the debate between the two camps heated up, a concerted campaign was undertaken by the PLO to bring Hamas into the UNC.

Efforts in this regard met with total failure,” but incipient coordination was

initiated between Hamas and the PFLP.! This collaboration, however limited and instrumental, was but one aspect of tensions that surfaced among organizations represented in the UNC against the backdrop of loss of momentum of the struggle. As the first year of the intifada drew to a close, signs of weariness were evident

alongside marked degrees of disciplined compliance with instructions issued by the UNC, the local popular committees, and Hamas. The tax revolt advocated by the UNC did not spread and the populace as a whole was reluctant to join a full-scale civil rebellion. The scope of mass demonstrations dropped, giving way to radicalization of the struggle and escalation of violent assaults — a process that Hamas did much to inflame. This trend, which threatened to hinder prospects for capitalizing on the struggle, stimulated strategic and tactical disputes inside the UNC and among the leaderships of the organizations abroad.” Particularly intense was the disparity between the PFLP, which sought to escalate both the violent struggle and the civil disobedience campaign, and the PCP, which sought to preserve popular endurance and hence urged relatively moderate modes of confrontation. Striving to project an image of unity, Fatah oscillated between these two extremes. At times, differences concerning daily activities also cut across organizational boundaries. Thus popular committees demonstrated increasing attentiveness to the apparent wishes of the public and, defying directives from abroad, occasionally moderated instructions for day-by-day action.” Interestingly, the nationalist organizations lagged somewhat behind Hamas in this regard. Hamas in fact played a prominent role in conducting efforts to slow down the

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erosion of popular willingness and capacity to maintain the struggle, due to costs entailed by active participation on the one hand and countermeasures conducted by the Israeli security forces on the other. The uprising stimulated a sense of unity of destiny in the territories. In addition, it redelineated the Green Line in both psychological and concrete terms, and cultivated in Israel recognition of the need to articulate terms for settling the conflict.* It also mobilized unprecedented support for the PLO on the part of Israeli Arabs inside Israel proper.” The Palestinian problem was placed high on the international agenda, fueling the attempt by the Reagan administration to advance a settlement to the conflict. In addition, the participants in the Arab summit, which convened in June 1988 in Algiers in support of the uprising, resolved to grant the PLO exclusive control over Arab financial support for the territories.” Especially significant in terms of Palestinian-related inter-Arab politics was Jordan’s formal disengagement from the West Bank, announced by King Hussein the following month. Admitting his failure to agree with the PLO on political collaboration, the king declared an end to legal and administrative links between Jordan and the West Bank, renouncing any practical claim to it and validating the PLO’s bid to representation of its inhabitants.’ However, these political gains came at a price, including psychological strain; high

rates of casualties in confrontations with the security forces; mass arrests; demolition

of homes of activists; a complete collapse of the school system; and the overall disappearance — in light of prolonged curfews and closures — of any semblance of a normal day-to-day life.** Disengagement from Israel was also highly difficult: there were no viable substitutes for Israeli-administered supplies of fuel, water, and electricity. Local alternatives to Israeli products and services developed slowly, were limited to elementary goods, and could not meet the population’s basic needs. Thus. the territories remained logistically attached to the Israeli infrastructure, while at the same time caught in the reins of a severe economic recession. Further crippling the economy of the territories was the on-and-off banning of Palestinian laborers seeking work in Israel, as well as the halt in Jordanian financial aid. The strike days announced by Hamas and the UNC were a further cause of economic decline. Preserving the momentum of the uprising and maintaining regulative control over its course in the face of the growing erosion of stamina was an ongoing task. From the end of the first year of the intifada, however, the locus of the struggle shifted to the political arena. While the Fatah-led mainstream of the PLO sought to accomplish this goal by endorsing policies expected to foster international legitimac y, radical organizations sought to frustrate prospects for a negotiated settlement. Related differences, however, were overshadowed by disputes over the strategic goals of the struggle between the mainstream leadership of the PLO in exile and the Fatah-affiliated leadership inside the territories.

Sidelining “the Inside” — | The contest over political primacy between the “inside” and the “outside” coincided with the rise of the Israeli—Palestinian conflict to international headlines. In the first months of the intifada, Secretary of State George Shultz made several visits to the region in an effort to revive the idea of an international peace conference. Specifically,

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Shultz sought to establish terms for a transitional period toward negotiations on the final status of the territories. Adhering to previous administrations’ attitudes on the issue of Palestinian representation, the American initiative stipulated that negotiations would be held between an Israeli delegation and a joint Jordanian—Palestinian delegation.’A delegation from the territories, which was identified with Fatah’s faction in the UNC, presented Shultz with a list of demands of the Israeli government, articulated “as means to prepare the atmosphere for the convening of an international peace conference which will achieve a just and lasting settlement of the Palestinian problem in all its aspects.” Fatah’s leadership abroad approved the demands, yet rejected the Shultz initiative — which was likewise rejected by the Israeli government — due to American insistence on denying the PLO political legitimacy.*! Maintaining that the issue on the agenda concerned not only the territories but also the Palestinian refugees outside historic Palestine, the PLO disapproved of scheduled meetings between Shultz and West Bank personalities. Practically admitting the centrality of the PLO to Palestinian-related politics, the State Department drafted a list of terms that the PLO was asked to accept in order to enable beginning a dialogue with the administration. Principal among these were unconditional acceptance of UNSCR 242 and the abandonment of terrorism. In other words, in order to initiate dialogue with the US, the

PLO was required to transform the balance among institutional means as well as to articulate an alternative end goal. Concurrently, the PLO came under mounting pressure from inside the territories to capitulate to American demands and articulate a pragmatic course of action. Already in January 1988, Arafat acknowledged the need to establish relations with the US so as to advance the translation ofthe struggle into political gains. He also asserted a qualified readiness to recognize Israel along its pre-1967 borders and declared that his acceptance of the principle of an international conference signaled a readiness to work toward a negotiated settlement and was tantamount to recognizing Israel. Possible ramifications of a more forthcoming approach were examined in June 1988. During the Algiers summit, Arafat’s political adviser Bassam Abu Sharif published a proposal for talks with Israel, accepting the idea of a two state settlement. The proposal was hotly criticized by radical Fatah leaders, including Farug Qaddumi, who concurrently worked to facilitate a rapprochement between the PLO and Damascus.” However, it was not totally discarded by Arafat, who offered to obtain clarifications on the matter in a meeting with American officials. Later that year the pressure on the PLO from the territories grew increasingly intense. A plan for the constitution of a legislative body of 152 people who would represent the West Bank and Gaza Strip in the PNC, believed first to have been articulated by Faisal Husseini, was circulated in the territories. Specifically, the plan sought to persuade the PLO leadership abroad to endorse policies expected to produce international pressure on Israel. The domestic Fatah-affiliated leadership, which propagated the pragmatic approach, did not enjoy substantial normative and regulative legitimacy independent of association with the PLO in exile. Yet even so, the political ventures

initiated by its members threatened to consolidate their political legitimacy at the expense of the international position of the PLO. Of particular concern was the possibility that prominent figures from inside the territories would try and promote a separate agreement with Israel. By the end of the first year of the intifada, F atah’s leadership in exile realized that its failure to put forward a plan for translating the struggle 121

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into a political triumph had undermined its normative status in the territories and its political standing internationally. Sidelining the “inside,” the mainstream leadership in exile countered by endorsing conciliatory ends, which served to reinstate its position at the head of Palestinian-related politics. The document attributed to Husseini was firmly rejected by the PLO establishment and was not placed on the agenda of the PNC, which convened on November 12-15 in Algiers. However, despite fervent opposition on the part of the leftist Fronts and radical figures inside Fatah, Arafat masterminded approval by the PNC of a political strategy on the basis of UNSCRs 242 and 338. The nineteenth session of the PNC was a demonstration of an institutional transformation in process. At the end of the deliberations, Arafat declared the establishment of a Palestinian State that “believes in the settlement of regional and international disputes by peaceful means, in accordance with the UN Charter and resolutions.” The concludin g statement specified an intention to continue and escalate the intifada. At the same time, in response to the humanitarian quest for international entente .. . [the concluding statement affirmed] the determination of the PLO to arrive at a comprehensive settlement of the Arab-Israeli conflict and its core, which is the question of Palestine within the framework of the UN Charter, the principles [and] provisions of international legality, the norms of international law, and the resolutions of the UN . . . and the resolutions of the Arab summits, in such a manner that safeguards the Palestinian Arab people’s right to return, to self-determination, and the establishment of their independent national state on their national soil, and that institutes arrangements for the security and peace of all states in the region.

Toward achieving this, the PNC affirmed “the necessity of conveni ng the. . . international conference on the issue of Middle East and...Palestine, under auspices of the UN ... and all parties to the conflict . . . including the PLO . . . on the basis of UNSCRJs] 242 and 338.” Also demanded was a “withdrawal of Israel from all the Palestinian and Arab territories it occupied in 1967, including Jerusalem.”3? Yet UNSCR 242 was not unconditionally accepted, and hence the American prerequi site for recognizing the organization was not considered met. Thus began intensive maneuverings aimed at having the PLO agree to what the Americans deemed necessary in order to secure their agreement to engage in a dialogue with the PLO. On December

13, 1988, Arafat addressed the UN

General Assembly in Geneva

(which had convened there especially, since the US would not grant him an entry visa to address the Assembly in New York).

The PLO chairman inched closer to meetin

g American demands. He asserted that “the PLO will work to achieve a comprehensive and peaceful settlement among the parties to the Arab-Israeli conflict, including the Palestinian state, Israel and other neighboring states . . . in order to Fespect’ Lv everyone’s right to exist, to peace and security, accord ing to Resolutions 242 and 338.” Arafat also announced the PLO’s acceptance of UN Resolution 181 (the plan for the partition of Palestine). Yet the US administration remained unsatisfied. The following day, under massive pressure from the Egyptian and the Saudi governments, as well as individual Americans and Swedish officials — the latter, backed by Swedish Foreign Minister Sten Andersson, had become engaged in efforts to promote talks between the PLO and the Israeli government — Arafat yielded to the American conditions. Ina press conference, he repeated what he had said the day before, adding an explicit renunciation of “all

forms of terrorism, including individual, group, and state terrorism.’4

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On the whole, the PLO’s political initiative was rather ambiguous. The right of return of the refugees to historic Palestine, incompatible with Israel’s existence, was stressed. Yet also emphasized was the quest for “security and peace for all states in the region,” which was at variance with the PLO’s strategy of phases.*> The position declared in Geneva was not as binding as the resolutions of the PNC, the PLO’s highest constitutional body in charge of articulating strategic directives. Yet it served to grant the PLO the desired goal of American political recognition. The US administration, for its part, sought to secure American auspices over the prospected Middle East peace process. The following day a meeting was held in Tunis between the American ambassador and a PLO delegation. The legal door was now open for the Bush administration, which took office in January 1989, to start an official dialogue with the PLO as means to promote an Israeli—Palestinian settlement. It appeared that, at least from the perspective of the PLO, the Israeli--Palestinian equation no longer necessarily constituted a win-lose situation. However, the manner by which the Israeli government might be induced to rescind its refusal to recognize the PLO and endorse the same approach was still unknown, and would remain so for several more years. While 117 UN member states recognized the declared State of Palestine, no international power

but the US could even hope to convince the Israeli government to talk to the PLO. The international political scene notwithstanding, the primary goal of accepting UNSCRs 181, 242, and 338 was neither instantaneous concessions by Israel nor a better position for advancing the strategy of phases — if indeed that was what the leadership of the PLO really had in mind.*° Rather, the overriding objective was preventing the leadership “inside” from acquiring political recognition at the expense ofthe leadership abroad and thus from undermining the PLO’s political legitimacy. The Fatah leadership appeared to be as concerned over the issue of who would represent the Palestinian case as it was over the substance of what was to be discussed. Admitting the role of the leadership from the territories in generating the institutional shift, Nabil Sha’th said that “the intifada is the origin of all of the state of Palestine... . It was the translation of a true desire expressed by the stone-throwing children. It was also expressed by the revolutionary forces through the intifada. In fact, most of the independence charter was written ‘inside’ before it reached the PNC.”*’ Salah Khalaf, for his part, noted that he “was anxious to consult the young men whom I trusted within the leadership of the intifada, especially from Fatah. If they had not requested that political initiative, it would not have happened.”* As it turned out, the intifada shifted the locus of the struggle from the exiled Palestinian leadership to the territories, and therefore stimulated intensive efforts on the part of the traditional leadership to regain control. To this end, Fatah endorsed an institutional transformation, declaring a shift

of operational emphases, from violent to non-violent modes of mobilization. The PLO’s shift was all the more remarkable since it went beyond a mere tactical modification. Rather, Arafat’s declarations and his acceptance of UN Resolutions 181, 242, and 338 meant that entirely new organizational ends were being articulated.

Emphasis was placed on diplomacy as a means to advance conciliatory political ends. As Edward Said observed, “The point is not that the [PNC] Council documents are perfect and complete, but that they must be interpreted . . . as a beginning that signals a distinct break with the past, as willingness to make sacrifices in the interest of peace, as a definitive statement of the Palestinian acceptance of the international consensus.”

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In the aftermath of the initiation of the US-PLO dialogue, Fatah’s leadership endeavored to find a way to advance several contesting institutional goals. One primary goal was the translation of American recognition into exclusive Palestinian representation in any future talks with Israel. A related interim goal was ensuring that the PLO would be guaranteed a role in the naming of the Palestinian delegation to such talks and in drafting the agenda for them, even if this role was limited to semi-official back channels. However, the quest for political legitimacy, which dictated the moderation of initial stances regarding exclusive representation, threatened to encourage opposition to the diplomatic venture among leading Fatah members and radical PLO groups. This, in turn, threatened to undermine Fatah’s intra-PLO position. Hence, Fatah endeavored to maintain the dialogue, while also preventing the evolving concillatory approach from destroying unity within the PLO’s ranks.” Perpetuation of the intifada was also imperative for sustaining Fatah’s intra-Palestinian ascendance.*! Mets in 1989 the struggle spun increasingly out of control, bothin terms of violence and civil disobedience, rendering its translation into direct and indirect pressures on Israel to embark on talks with Palestinians increasingly complicated.” At the same time, Fatah strove to avoid creating an impression that this was the cause for bringing any preliminary negotiations to a standstill. Ironically, this goal was well-served by Israel’s adherence to its traditional position of non-recognition. The linkage of political legitimacy to the violent-non-violent equation was still on the agenda. The pledged abstention from terrorism became a primary criterion for judging the PLO’s credibility and its future ability to assume control over Palestinianrelated politics. However, there were sharp differences among the principal actors involved in the political process — the US, Israel, and the PLO ~ as to what constituted a terrorist act.*? The three parties also differed with regard to the degree of responsibility that could be attributed to the Fatah-led PLO mainstre am concerning the activities of diverse Palestinian groups whose subordination to the PLO was not always clear.** But whether the intifada constituted “terrorism” or not was largely a question of semantics: for both the Israeli government and the US administ ration the continuation of the violent struggle would remain the grounds for refrainin g from holding talks, and Arafat himself abstained from specifying exactly which acts were included by the term. At the General Assembly in Geneva Arafat condemn ed “terrorism in all forms,” yet he also stressed adherence to UN resolutions endorsin g the right to “resist foreign occupation.” At the same time, the official stand of the PLO and the UNC advocated confining the uprising to the limits of popular, unarmed struggle. By renouncing terrorism at Geneva, Arafat essentially formalized an alreadyexisting reduction of emphasis on violent practice in specific spheres: vis-d-vis the international and cross-border arenas, and vis-a-vis the use of firearms in the territories. Nevertheless, attempting to ascertain the PLO’s responsibility for activities carried out by radical factions was as inconclusive as interpreting the exact meaning of Arafat’s renunciation of terrorism.*> The PLO leaders hip sought to skirt this issue, given the risk it posed to the organization’s unity, by declaring cross-border incursions to be legitimate. Similarly, a total rejection ofviolen t struggle within Israel would have meant a drastic reversal of the traditional perception of the most legitimate course of struggle, and was therefore avoided. To be sure, the debate between the US administrati on and the PLO leadership over the issue of violent struggle was but one element in the larger context of the organiz-

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ation’s primacy over Palestinian-related politics. In fact, throughout 1989 the respective stances endorsed by the American administration, the Egyptian president, and the mainstream PLO began to converge, while the Israeli government displayed a markedly divergent attitude. Efforts conducted by President Mubarak and Secretary of State Baker to persuade the PLO to approve a dialogue between Israel and a delegation from the territories at an early stage of the envisioned peace process proved relatively successful. Related discussions touched upon the heart of the matter, since the PLO was in fact required by the American administration, in line with the traditional Israeli position, to surrender its political supremacy to enable talks to begin. This appeared to be the only way to get the process on track, since the Shamir government was determined to shun any talks with the PLO. The Shamir coalition government came under intensive American pressure to put forward a political initiative ofits own. In May 1989 it approved an elaborated version of the election plan, which was originally articulated in January 1989 by Defense Minister Rabin. The plan proposed holding elections for a delegation from the territories that would negotiate a transition period of five years toward autonomy.* Since the plan reiterated non-recognition of the PLO and rejection of the principle of “land for peace,” it was rejected by both the local leadership and the leadership of the mainstream PLO from abroad.*’ Yet the leadership in exile agreed to elections, providing that they would be held as part of acomprehensive political process in which the PLO would take part.** President Mubarak, in his self-appointed facilitating role, suggested that Israeli, Palestinian, and American officials meet in Cairo to discuss procedural aspects of the proposed elections.” Stressed in his ten-point plan was the linkage between the elections and future negotiations on a permanent status solution based on UNSCRs 242 and 338. This approach was endorsed by Secretary of State Baker, who presented a five-point plan suggesting that an Israeli delegation meet in Cairo with a Palestinian delegation “only after a satisfactory list of Palestinians has been worked ut,” and that “Palestinians would be free to raise issues that relate to their opinions on how to make elections and negotiations succeed.”*° At best, both the Baker and Mubarak plans offered the PLO influence only over the naming of the Palestinian delegation, and hence only indirect control over the envisioned talks. Predictably, therefore, the initiatives were rejected by “outsiders” and “insiders” alike. Ensuing efforts on the part of the US administration to enable initiation of talks were to no avail. Facing a political stalemate, Fatah turned to Western Europe for support of its political initiative. In a press conference held in May 1989 in Paris, Arafat declared the PLO Covenant, which tied the organization’s strategy to violent struggle, caduc — obsolete. Yet the principle of preserving the national unified front, which was threatened by the DFLP and the PFLP opposition to the political initiative, determined the emphasis on the violent struggle, though in a manner that did not negate the pledge given in Geneva.

The

final statement

of Fatah’s

fifth General

Congress,

which

convened in Tunis on August 3-10, 1989, reasserted “compliance with principles of international legitimacy which grant our people the right of exercising all forms of struggle, including the armed struggle, to confront the hated Israeli occupation of our homeland . . . [however] adherence to the armed struggle ... does not conflict with political mele and by no means cancels our political eens *51 Yielding to Egyptian pressure, the Fatah-led mainstream PLO also moderated its opposition to

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the Israeli plan and approved a compromise formula for a Palestinian delegation that would include representatives from the territories.” Debates in the Israeli scene exposed deep rifts in the coalition government as to dealing with the intifada and the Palestinian issue in general. While the hard-line Likud bloc was still convinced that the uprising could be quelled by military means, the Labor bloc, headed by Rabin and Peres, grew increasingly convinced that the issue should be addressed by political means as well. Specifically concerning the Baker plan, the Likud bloc insisted that Palestinian representatives not be affiliated in any way with the PLO, that no Palestinians from East Jerusalem be included in the delegation, and that the only topic on the agenda would be the proposed elections in the territories. Members of the Labor party, for their part, adopted an approach quite similar to the American and the Egyptian lines.* Meanwhile the Israeli—Palestinian tension was fed by a number of different factors: the recurrence of violent attacks, Israel’s use of major force in attempting to overcome the violent dimension of the struggle, and the Shamir government’s rejection of proposed negotiation formulas. All of this was further aggravated by the massive influx into Israel of immigrants from the Soviet Union. The immigration, as seen from Palestinian and Jordanian perspectives, threatened to neutralize the demographic threat posed by the Palestinian population to the Jewish population, and was interpreted as still further testimony of Israel’s intentions to realize its vision of Greater Israel. In May 1990, under US pressure to accept the Baker plan and enable promotion of the political process, the Israeli coalition government collapsed; its fall marked the first time that Palestinian-related politics culminated in a crisis in the Israeli domestic sphere.*° The ensuing establishment of a right-wing coalition confirmed a reality that had long been observed, that at the time, there was no Israeli party with which to promote a negotiated settlement. The following month the US-PLO dialogue was suspended. The immediate pretext for the suspension was an attempted seaborne assault into Israel by the PLF. Specifically, however, the administration brought the dialogue to a halt due to Arafat’s refusal to condemn the abortive assault unequivocally.*’ President Mubarak expressed his criticism, and Egypt, having been reinstated in the Arab League, also suspended contacts with the PLO.* The assault itself was alleged to have been sponsored by the Iraqi regime. Militant statements made by Saddam Hussein regarding the centrality of the Palestinian problem to the “Arab cause” cultivated expectati ons among Palestinians in the territories and elsewhere that Iraq would generate a breakthrough in the regional political standstill.°° Such expectations would indeed come true, though not quite in the manner anticipated. Ultimately, siding with Iraq during the period of the Gulf crisis of 1990-91 harmed the organization’s pillar of political legitimacy far beyond expectations. Punitive measures imposed by the Gulf states generated a financial crisis, which hindered its regulative functioning as well. Still, in the aftermath of the Gulf crisis, the Fatah-led PLO was fortunate enough to preserve its normative legitimacy and use it to secure an indirect yet decisive role in delineati ng the future course of Palestinian politics.

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Institutional Regression The PLO was among the participants in the May 1990 Arab summit in Baghdad, in which Soviet immigration to Israel was high on the agenda. The conference venue reflected Iraq’s growing inter-Arab primacy, and the PLO’s support for this stemmed from expectations regarding Baghdad’s ability to advance the organization’s institutional interests. In addition, the PLO gained from its closer links with Iraq, in the form

of financial assistance to the intifada and broadcasting time granted to the Voice of Palestine from Baghdad.® A further indication of the strengthened alliance between Baghdad and Fatah was the redeployment in Iraq in May 1990 of cadres and operational headquarters previously stationed in Yemen, Algeria, and Jordan." Initially, the consolidation of PLO relations and political understanding with Baghdad appeared to be without any immediate or critical political price, since the political process had in any case reached a standstill. The picture, however, grew more complicated when the August 2, 1990 invasion of Kuwait by Iraq obliged Middle Eastern governments and sub-national organizations to choose a clear policy line. The Palestinian organizations’ decision to adopt a pro-Iraqi line in the Gulf crisis reflected broad support for Iraq by the Palestinian masses. Solidarity with Irag swept the Palestinians in the territories and especially in Jordan and Lebanon. Calls were made for intensification of the struggle against Israel and also against the interests of other states that were affiliated with the Western anti-Iraqi coalition. This alignment also redrew Palestinian and inter-Arab alliances: relations with states that opposed the Iraqi invasion of Kuwait soured against the backdrop of the crisis, while links with pro-Iraqi Jordan dramatically improved. Particularly significant was the return to Jordan after twenty years of Nayif Hawatmeh and George Habash. Along with other Palestinian representatives and public figures from Arab states, both participated in a pro-Iraqi conference in Amman on September 15-17, 1990. Within a short period of time, however, Palestinian popular support for Iraq, and especially PLO reluctance to denounce the invasion of Kuwait, generated an enraged backlash. Condemnations were issued by Arab governments that were part of the USled anti-Iraq coalition. The rift between the PLO and anti-Iraq states gained salience as Arafat voted against the resolution, endorsed at the Arab summit in Cairo within days of the invasion of Kuwait, to send Arab troops to the Gulf. One of the loudest critics of the Palestinians was President Mubarak, who had been involved in recruiting Arab backing for advancing a negotiated settlement of the Palestinian problem, and therefore felt particularly spurned. A number of Arab states turned to punitive measures. Among these were the deportation from late August 1990 of scores of PLO operatives from Saudi Arabia and the Gulf emirates. Palestinian workers were likewise expelled, and the estimated number of deportees reached 250,000 (out of about 750,000 Palestinian residents and workers).®* Arafat himself was barred from any Gulf

capital, and the Voice of Palestine radio station in Cairo was shut down. The Gulf states, whose reluctance to share their wealth and resources formed one of the reasons

for the Palestinians’ reaction to the invasion of Kuwait, used their critical influence over the economic well-being of the resistance organizations and cut them off financially. The flow of funds to the PLO and to the territories was temporarily canceled. Remittances from Palestinian workers in Gulf states stopped, Palestinian assets in Gulf 127

The Eighth Institutional Phase, 1988-1993

states decreased in value, and bank deposits were seized. These retaliatory moves had a direct impact upon the economy of the territories. Additional blows were caused by the long-term closure of the territories during the Gulf War by the Israeli authorities and strict regulations on work within Israel proper implemented in its aftermath. All told, billions of US dollars were lost, and the economic foundations of millions of Palestinians in the region, especially in the territories and the Gulf, were severely shaken.™ A major blow was also dealt to the PLO’s political legitimacy as its recent diplomatic achievements in the international arena were substantially undermined. While the crisis formed the backdrop for declarations concerning the need to intensify efforts to advance a settlement to all Middle East conflicts and the Israeli—Palestinian dispute in particular, doubts were now expressed concerning the PLO’s future role. This posture was especially evident in official US statements that focused upon the need to advance the peace process with Palestinian participation, but without mentioning a specific role for the PLO. West European diplomats, with the exception of French officials, refrained from meeting PLO representatives, although the European governments were more flexible than the US with regard to eventual PLO participation in eventual talks. In February 1991, foreign ministers of the European Community resolved to exclude any role for Arafat, though not for other PLO representatives, in anticipated moves toward peace.® Concurrently, popular interest in the Palestinian problem declined. This was manifested in a significant drop in financial contributions to Palestinian institutions and economic projects in the territories. Still, Palestinians hoped to benefit from efforts to settle the Gulf crisis. A particularly optimistic policy line appeared to be the linkage between the issues of Kuwait, Lebanon, and the Palestinians, demanded by Saddam Hussein on August 12, 1990, as a condition for settling the crisis. The proposal to discuss the three disputes together was immediately rejected by members of the anti-Iraq coalition, but wholeheartedly endorsed by Palestinians. At a very early stage of the crisis, attitudes toward the Iraqi proposal became the focus of debate among the PLO leadership. Leading the unpopular opposition to the organization’s commitment to the Iraqi side were Hani al-Hasan and Salah Khalaf. Fatah’s leadership, however, focused on demonstrating neutrality. To this effect, a plan for settling the Gulf crisis was initiated. The plan, which drew little attention, rejected foreign intervention in Arab matters, emphasize d the role of the UN in resolving conflicts and the holding of international conference s as the structural means to advance their settlement.® The scheme, named “the Arab plan,” bore close resemblance to Saddam’s linkage between the disputes over Kuwait, Lebanon, and the territories. Standing by Iraq dominated the reaction of Palestinians in the territories to the crisis. Articles in the local press expressed unwavering support for the invasion of Kuwait, as well as total rejection of foreign intervention in the region. Mass pro-Iraqi demonstrations and rallies held in the territories reflected the popular atmosphere. Calls to lower the profile of identification with Iraq were scarce. Also rare were expressions of concern over the impact of the pro-Iraqi stance on links that had been cautiously consolidated since the outbreak of the intifada between Palestinians and left-wing Israeli politicians.®’ To be sure, the economic ramifica tions of solidarity with Iraq were immediately evident. Yet pervasive support for Iraq inside the territories proved effective in quickly silencing skeptics. Throughout the crisis and war, the local

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leadership in particular, as well as the higher echelons ofthe Palestinian national movement, managed to maintain a united front.®* However, for all its declared commitments to Baghdad’s line, fear of Israeli reaction determined the UNC’s abstaining from open incitement of the violent struggle. Notably, the PLO was criticized by Baghdad for failing to fulfill its pledge to fight against foreign intervention in the region. The Gulf crisis was a powerful catalyst for renewal of the regional peace process. Expectations for stabilization of the region were cultivated by President Bush’s call for a “new world order” made in early March 1991. The American plan focused in general terms on the settlement of regional disputes and on the stabilization of the Middle East in particular; efforts to advance this goal were coordinated with Gorbachey, in a show of post-Cold War solidarity. The concerted drive to bring the parties to the conflict to the negotiating table crowned a remarkable improvement in the US-Syria relationship, which began during the crisis. In July 1991 Damascus accepted, albeit conditionally, the outlines of the regional political process as proposed by Secretary of State Baker. Thus, the Gulf crisis diverted international attention from the Israeli—Palestinian dispute, yet only for a short period of time. Attempts to bring the sides to the negotiating table resumed immediately after the crisis ended. The PLO, however, was threatened with total isolation; its political legitimacy had fallen to an all-time low. Against this backdrop, the debate between the “inside” and the “outside” as to what political path should be taken was infused with new life. As the regional conference idea gained momentum, pressures increased from within the territories for the PLO to endorse moderate policies in order to secure Palestinian participation in the proposed talks. These pressures, but one aspect of mounting challenges to the PLO’s position, were reflected by loud criticism of its managerial and political performance. Financially, the organization was bankrupt, which severely hindered its ability to carry on with its day-to-day administrative, bureaucratic, and diplomatic routine, and above all to regulate the uprising in the territories. In 1990-91 Palestinian violence escalated in the anti-Israel sphere and, even more so, in the intracommunal context. Violence was attempted by radical elements to arouse the masses, and manifested a rejection by radical factions, primarily Hamas and the PFLP, of efforts to promote a negotiated solution to the dispute.” For mainstream PLO-affiliated activists both in the territories and in Tunis, the rejectionist activity symbolized a wrong direction taken by the uprising and indicated the regulative weakness of the official leadership.” The attempt by external actors to pursue the peace process continued, however. Efforts by Baker to revive the regional process included, in addition to meetings with Prime Minister Shamir and President Asad, talks with PLO-affiliated public figures from East Jerusalem.’! Admitting its political powerlessness and seeking not to be blamed by its local constituency for yet another failure of the already-waning uprising to reap a political accomplishment, Fatah took a flexible stand on several major issues related to Palestinian representation at the proposed talks. The pragmatic decisions made at the twentieth PNC, which convened in September 1991 in Algiers, represented the new stance. There, notwithstanding the left-wing Fronts’ firm opposition, the PLO resolved to authorize the participation of representatives from the territories at the upcoming convention of a regional peace conference under American and Soviet auspices. The PLO Executive Council also approved the constitution of a joint Palestinian-Jordanian delegation, in accordance with an

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The Eighth Institutional Phase, 1988-1993

American request.” By approving direct talks between Baker and delegates from the territories and by virtue of the PNC resolutions that provided local PLO affiliates with the authority to negotiate with Israel within the context of regional talks, the PLO leadership in exile confirmed the political significance of the local powers.” The regional circumstances, featuring an altered balance of power precipitated by the Gulf crisis, left the PLO with no choice but to accept a political formula that was traditionally taboo. From the perspective of Fatah’s intra-PLO primacy, however, a joint Palestinian—Jordanian delegation — a principle that also served to deny the Israeli government its last pretext in refusing to attend the proposed conference — was far less threatening than an independent delegation from the territories. Thus notwithstanding its political weakness, the PLO was still relatively strong in terms of regulative and normative stature. As the recognized leadership of the national movement and the epitome of its collective purpose, its blessing was still crucial for translating the normative support enjoyed by the leadership in the territories into a fully-fledged political position.

Sidelining “the Inside” — II The international conference for peace in the Middle East convened in Madrid in October 1991. Bilateral talks between Israel and the Arab states and multilate ral negotiations on issues of regional interest commenced soon afterwards.” The talks between the Israeli and Palestinian delegations were held in Washington, in the framework of Israeli-Jordanian/Palestinian rounds of negotiations. As agreed upon prior to the convening of the Madrid conference, the PLO was officially excluded from the negotiations. Unofficially, however, the organization was deeply involved, maintaining close contacts with the representatives from the territories in formulat ing policies and endeavoring to restrict their decision-making latitude. The Washington talks primarily served to illustrate the immeas urable gap between the two sides, the depth of their mutual suspicions, and the incompa tibility of their visions for a settlement. From 1992 to mid-1993, the deliber ations focused on technical, procedural matters. The right-wing Israeli govern ment directed a tough line, deliberately avoiding reference to issues of substance. The representatives from the territories perceived Israel’s participation in the talks as yet another means to continue the occupation and reach an internationally-accepted formula that would legalize it. American officials in charge of the talks played a vital role in keeping them on track, yet could not spur any progress. The PLO leadership, for its part, was profoundly concerned over the remote though not inconceivable chance that the delegation from the territories would sooner or later reach a kind of separate understanding with its Israeli counterpart. Still, it mainly regarded the talks to be a possible venue for the resumption of the US-PLO dialogue. To this effect, and also to subvert the potential attainm ent of a separate Israeli

_Jordanian or Israeli-Syrian arrangement, the PLO strove to ensure continuation ofthe talks, if only for the sake of talks in and of themselves.

The Palestinian delegation, however, endeavored

to promote a formula

for reducing the burden shouldered by the resident s of the territories that would also feature a direct link to the final status settlement, and to increase its influence over PLO policymaking.” The strategic disparity between Fatah’s leadership in exile on the one

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hand, and the organization’s affiliates in the territories on the other, reached its peak as the faltering peace process turned into an intra-Palestinian power struggle. In December 1992, the Washington talks reached an impasse. The immediate cause was the expulsion on December 17 to southern Lebanon of 415 Islamic activists from the territories, most of them Hamas affiliates.”° The Palestinian delegation conditioned

its return to the table on an Israeli pledge to repatriate the deportees all at once. The mainstream leadership of the PLO, on the other hand, dealt with the issue more circumspectly, approving resumption of the talks in return for a pledge to allow a gradual return of those exiled.” Endeavoring to enable resumption of the Israeli—Palestinian talks, Rabin, who assumed the Israeli premiership in June 1992 and also acted as minister of defense, authorized the lifting of the ban on contacts between

Israel and Palestinians affiliated with the PLO.” The recognition of Faisal Husseini as head of the delegation from the territories convinced the official PLO delegation to return to the negotiating table. Under pressures exerted by Mubarak, the British Foreign Office, and the US State Department, which were accompanied by pledges to renew financial aid by Gulf states, Arafat also gave his approval to Palestinian participation in the next round of talks.” In any case, while talks resumed

in April

1993 with Husseini

as head of the

Palestinian delegation, they did not register any concrete progress. A draft of an interim agreement, which was put forward by the Clinton administration, was rejected by the Palestinian delegation on the grounds that it bore close similarities to the Israeli position, which had not dramatically changed with the ascension of the Labor party to power.*° A further difficulty stemmed from Arafat’s insistence on placing the issue of Jerusalem on the agenda, ignoring the disinclination of the Palestinian delegates to do so in light of the Israeli sentiment vis-d-vis Jerusalem as a non-negotiable issue. The talks reached a deadlock and in May Arafat declared them suspended. The tension between the “inside” and the “outside” threatened Fatah’s institutional ebb even further.*! Indications of regulative and normative downfall were harsh criticism voiced in the territories against Fatah’s leadership concerning administrative and financial misconduct, as well as its failure to advance the political process. Calls for revision in the PLO’s managerial structure and for withdrawal from the Washington talks were issued in the territories and inside the PLO by Fatah’s associates as well.** In addition, Fatah’s leadership faced difficulties administering the intifada through ensuring its perpetuation while restraining self-reliant activism in the territories. The financial crisis also generated tension inside the organization’s fighting arms — the Western Sector and Force 17 — which were in any case marginalized due to the shift of the struggle to the territories on the one hand, and by the initiation of the political process on the other. With the blessing of Damascus, the alliance committed to foiling the peace talks — the Palestinian National Salvation Front (PNSF) — was revived.*? Against this backdrop, Fatah was placed in a precarious political position in which to lose from either success or failure in the Washington talks. Progress toward stood it accommodation with Israel would have meant yet another gain scored by the territories’ leadership in its undeclared contest with the exiled leadership of the mainstream PLO over normative and political legitimacy. On the other hand, were the talks to fail, the Palestinians were bound to find themselves outside of regional developments, and would probably find international recognition of the PLO postponed to the distant future. Hamas, meanwhile, was in the wings: encouraged by popular support from the

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The Eighth Institutional Phase, 1988-1993

massive deportation of its affiliates and from a spate of assaults against Israelis inspired by the deportations, Hamas continued establishing itself as an ideological and operational alternative to the PLO. In general, opposition to the PLO could be expected to radicalize were the talks in Washington to progress, and to expand in their current venue were they to fail.*# Striving to reverse the tide, Arafat, who personally drew much of the criticism, ordered the back channel dialogue with Israel to be intensified. Secret talks began in Oslo in December 1992 with a series of meetings between Israeli academics and PLO officials under the auspices of the Norwegian Foreign Ministry.** On the agenda were the issues of economic coordination between Israel and the territories. and the rights and powers that might be given to an interim Palestinian authority, were one to be set up. Seeking to enable renewal of the US-PLO dialogue, Arafat approved the Oslo channel, even though it implied a de facto recognition of Israel, in exchange for rewards that at the time were entirely unclear. Moreover, the talks.left the link between interim arrangements (which were on the agenda) and final status arrangements (which were not) highly ambiguous. Even so, the offstage dialogue was expected to yield institutional advantages and safeguard the related interests that were highly at risk under the Washington talks whether they succeeded or failed. The secrecy of the channel also appealed to Fatah’s leadership, since it offered freedom from a number of regional and internal pressures — from the territories’ local leadership, from Arab governments, and from opposition inside the PLO. The Israeli side, for its part, was driven to engage in direct talks with the PLO by the deadlock in the official track: by the impact that the failure of the Washington talks would likely have on US~—Israeli relations: by the steady deterioration ofthe security situation in Israel and the territories; and by the weariness of the Israeli public from the daily encounter with the uprising.*° Norwegian officials briefed the US State Department and the Russian Foreign Ministry. However, the dialogue was kept secret: neither the Israeli nor the Palestinian delegates to Washington had any idea ofits existence, not to mention the issues on the agenda. In the meantime, the Washington negotiations continued to limp along.’’ The behind-the-scenes talks gained momentum. and in May 1993, against the backdrop of the Washington impasse, the Israeli delegation offered Arafat a first step toward a settlement in the form of a foothold in Gaza. The idea of “Gaza first” had been high on the Israeli public agenda for quite some time, and became increasingly recognized as a potential venue for promoting an interim arrangement.’’ Arafat, for his part, insisted on a grip in the West Bank as well, and put forward the formula of “Gaza-Jericho first.” Rabin agreed to consider the counter -proposal, ultimately accepting it. Like Arafat, though for different reasons. he was disturbed over rising tension in the territories, the declining influence of the PLO there. and the concurrent rise of the Islamic bloc. Yet another core of concern was the stalemate in Israeli-Syrian bilateral negotiations, since no settlement could be advanced without Israeli consent to withdraw fully from the Golan Heights, a non-acc eptable precondition for both the Israeli government and for the public at large.’ The need to promote the political process shifted the Israeli diplomatic focus to Oslo. Addressing concrete issues, the teams articulated the final draft of a mutual Declara tion of Principles (DoP) for Interim Palestinian Self-Governance Arrangements in the West Bank and Gaza Strip, and then moved to approve official, mutual recognit ion. The DoP was concluded on August 20, 1993. Concurrently, it was leaked to the press and only then, with much

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fanfare, did it become publicly known.” Departing from the Madrid formula, thereby sidelining the local leadership and the PNC as well, Arafat and a small group of Fatah officials paved the way of the PLO from Tunis via Oslo to the White House lawn. Approval by the Israeli cabinet on August 30, 1993 and then by the government conferred upon the DoP incontrovertible legal status. Arafat, for his part, settled for

approval by Fatah’s Central Committee and the PLO Executive Committee, declining to present it to the PNC, where the opposition was anticipated to frustrate endorsement. At stake were two fundamental components of Fatah’s institutional position — the PLO’s political legitimacy and unity in the organization’s ranks. Yet at this historical junction, the two interests seemed contradictory: efforts to preserve the unity of the PLO were likely only to further the organization’s political descent. At the same time, if the PLO wished to preserve its relevance in regional politics, accommodation with Israel seemed to be the default course of action. Hence, Arafat reversed the estab-

lished institutional logic of utilizing regulative and normative gains to acquire political legitimacy and opted for a spectacular political gain, which was expected to translate later into normative and regulative returns. In Washington on September 13, 1993, the mainstream PLO celebrated its public recognition by Israel as the sole legitimate representative of a political entity entitled to self-determination and territorial sovereignty. The DoP was officially signed, marking the beginning of a new institutional phase in the history of the protracted conflict. The DoP, which eventually became better known as the Oslo accords, formed

the basis for a series of interim agreements signed in subsequent years on the gradual transfer of territories in the West Bank and Gaza Strip from Israeli rule to Palestinian self-governance. In essence, it was designed to set the psychological, territorial, and political stage for future negotiations on a final status settlement. The built-in limitations and disadvantages of the DoP agreement were noted soon after its initial publication. Critics particularly emphasized the accords’ inherent inability to secure attainment of Palestinian self-determination and sovereignty in light of the imbalance of power between the two sides, which effectively left the pace and scope of implementation subject to Israeli fiat. The structure of the agreements was such that the thorniest issues — permanent borders, Jerusalem, the Israeli settlements in the territories, and the Palestinian refugees — were left to last. Rather than a remarkable act of diplomatic finesse (as the accords’ champions claimed), critics argued that

this was in fact an ironic and gloomy testimony to the lack of readiness of both sides to address painful issues, not to mention compromise on them. Without such readiness, it was not at all clear how any accord could possibly promote an end to such a bloodstained, acrimonious, and complex conflict. Some critics subsequently claimed that the agreements were so fatally flawed as to be doomed from the start with regard to any peace effort; rather than a confidence-building process, the accords were destined to become a confidence-destroying process. Notwithstanding

shortcomings

and

weaknesses

inherent

in the accords,

the

Palestinian institutional accomplishment reached its zenith in August-September 1993. Recognition by Israel was a crowning achievement, with multiple institutional dimensions. It confirmed the effectiveness of the Fatah-led PLO’s unrelenting efforts to transform normative backing and regulative control into political acceptance; to utilize political acceptance as means to augment normative and regulative predominance: and to oscillate between violent and non-violent mobilization according to

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unfolding circumstantial and institutional requirements. Israeli recognition, along with recognition by the US administration, legitimized the evolutionary transformation of the Fatah-led PLO into an advanced, state-like institutional phase.

134

Epilogue: New Setting, Old Dilemmas The Post-Oslo Years The years

1994 to 2000, which constituted

Fatah’s ninth institutional phase, were

marked by the organization’s efforts to preserve the leading position it had claimed since its formation.' The organization’s leadership in the post-Oslo years was manifested through its primacy within the Palestinian Authority — the designated governing body until conclusion of the final status settlement. The PA was formally established in 1994 in line with stipulations anchored in the Oslo accords and reaffirmed in the agreement reached on May 4, 1994 between the Israeli government and the PLO.? The administrative system of the PA’s Legislative Council (PLC), which was elected in January 1996 and headed by Yasir Arafat, was dominated by members of Fatah, particularly cadres who came to the territories from the headquarters in Tunis. This institutional achievement, however, did not exempt the organization from the need to sustain and regulate its popular support base. To preserve its normative status, Fatah had to further Palestinian national aspirations, yet within the margins of the mandate awarded to it by the Oslo accords and by the additional agreements signed with the Israeli governments in subsequent years. At this point, the only legitimate modus operandi was political dialogue. On September 28, 1995 an interim agreement was reached in Washington on the gradual transfer of territory to Palestinian rule. It also stipulated a start of negotiations on the final status agreement no later than on May 4, 1996.° This agreement, however, intensified the continuing debate in Israel over the compatibility of withdrawal from the West Bank and Gaza Strip to the long-term security interests of Israel. Particularly disputed, on both strategic and historical/ideological grounds, was the inevitable removal of settlements built in the territories in case of a sweeping territorial compromise. The debate was further provoked by declarations occasionally voiced by prominent Palestinian spokesmen, among them Arafat himself, that the peace process was a means to liberate the whole of Palestine. The most extreme manifestation of the widening intra-Israeli rift was the assassination of Prime Minister Rabin on November 4, 1995 by an Israeli right-wing activist. In any case, though, the transfer of territories in the West Bank and Gaza Strip from Israeli to Palestinian control was paved with difficulties. The redeployment of Israeli forces in the occupied territories was contingent on the ability of the PA’s security apparatuses to fight militants aiming to frustrate the process through perpetrating the violent struggle — the same tactic on which Fatah had built much of its normative and regulative legitimacy in years past. The government of Shimon Peres, Rabin’s

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Epilogue: New Setting, Old Dilemmas

successor, approved the transfer of five cities in the West Bank to Palestinian rule. But the following period was marked by escalating Palestinian violence, sparked by the assassination of a leading Hamas activist by the Israeli security forces, with terrorist attacks perpetrated by militants affiliated with Hamas and Islamic Jihad. With regard to counterterrorism policies, the PA was walking a tightrope. Full-fledged war against the belligerent opposition, as demanded by Israel, could have prevented regression in its political legitimacy, but the price in terms of popular support was steep. And, from the Israeli perspective, the continuing violence testified to the PA’s lack of either ability or intention (it did not, Israel claimed, matter which) to control opposition groups. Moreover, suppression of the opposition included not only efforts to curtail violence schemes but also the silencing of critics who hoped to improve norms of governance within the PA. The failure to advance democratization of Palestinian politics, in addition to crass violations of civil rights, corruption, and improper use of foreign aid, resulted in public dissatisfaction. This resentment increased the tension between the PA leadership and local forces, whose influence was undermined by the arrival of the “outside” leadership from Tunis. In addition, residents of the territories were faced

with mounting recession and the lack of independent economic growth. A narrow class had formed in the territories that prospered by capitalizing on the economic and political advantages the Oslo process had to offer, but the general public was forced to wait for the PA to make good on promises of long-term economic improvement. Israel’s delay in implementing decisions on additional withdrawals, and particularly its ongoing building and expansion of settlements in the territories, further eroded the legitimacy of the political process and by extension, that of the PA with Fatah at its helm. The Likud Party won the May 1996 elections to the Knesset, against the backdrop of accelerating deterioration of Israeli-Palestinian mutual trust. Clashes between Palestinians and the Israeli security forces, which recurrently followed Israeli moves that were perceived as blatant, provocative government intentions to stymie further withdrawal from the territories, deepened the doubts on both sides concernin g the political process as a viable formula for an eventual settlement. Concomitantly, the diplomatic and economic rapprochement between Israel and Arab states that began after the DoP was signed also came to a halt. On January 17, 1997, under pressure exerted by the Clinton administration to get the political process back on track, Israel’s prime minister, Binyamin Netanyahu, and PA chairman Arafat agreed on terms for the withdrawal of the army from Hebron. Nearly two years later, in October 1998, Israel and the PA agreed on further redeployment of the Israeli security forces in the West Bank and on additional confidence-building measures, such as the release of Palestinian activists from Israeli jails.’ The IDF redeployed in certain areas in the West Bank, yet following terrorist attacks, Israel suspended negotiatio ns and the implementation of agreements on further withdrawal. Testimony to the search by the Israeli public for a political breakthrough and an answer to the Palestinia n violence were the results of the May 1999 elections to the Knesset, which brought the Labor Party to power. The September 1999 “memorandum on implementation timeline of agreements signed and the resumption of permanent status negotiations,” which was reached by the newly-elected prime minister Ehud Barak and Arafat, reflected yet another attempt to revive the peace process. Soon after, however, Barak initiated a departure from the incremental and performance-based logic that underlay the Oslo accords. Arafat was

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invited to a summit meeting with Barak and President Clinton to conclude a comprehensive agreement on the final status issues. Not only did the discussions, held in Camp David, end without reaching any formal understanding; in addition, the trilateral summit underscored the political deadlock.

This was its unequivocal outcome, notwithstanding the numerous diverse versions regarding the proceedings of the negotiations and the proposals for a settlement put forth by the American,

Israeli, and Palestinian sides. As seen from the Palestinian

perspective, the collapse of the summit reinforced the relentless claim that the political process was leading nowhere. From the Israeli perspective, the concessions that Barak reportedly offered Arafat appeared sweeping and forthcoming. However, they were still far from what Arafat was ready to accept in return for an end-of-conflict declaration — a prerequisite that Barak held to be non-negotiable in the framework of a final settlement.’ For his part, Arafat could not agree to Israel’s demands without risking serious erosion of the three legitimacy bases — organizational-regulative, communal-normative, and external-political — on which Fatah had institutionalized. The PA did not

garner broad Arab—Muslim support going into the negotiations, and therefore lacked the political legitimacy it would have needed in order to yield on East Jerusalem. As a result, the PA chairman was unable to accede to Israeli compromise offers on that issue (assuming, of course, that he was ready to do so in the first place). The Barak plan for permanent borders between Israel and the future Palestinian state would have left the PA with a physically non-contiguous political entity that would be troublesome to govern and built on tenuous economic and political foundations. Hence, it posed detrimental implications for Fatah’s regulative ascendance. No less important, the agreement proposed by Barak essentially wrote the Palestinian refugee community, which had traditionally served as Fatah’s primary pillar of normative legitimacy, outside the boundaries of historic Palestine. Thus, acceptance of Israel’s terms as formulated in the summer of 2000 would have

prompted accusations against the PA — and against Fatah in particular — as betraying the spirit of the struggle and the objectives that guided its quest for institutional primacy. Various states and international organizations were expected to back such an agreement and commit themselves to assist in stabilizing the Palestinian state. Yet from the perspective of the PA, international sympathy was not perceived as suitable compensation for the anticipated massive loss of popular Palestinian support. In other words, on the eve of the Camp David summit, the basis of political legitimacy was not broad enough where the Arab—Muslim world was concerned, nor was it deep enough where the international community in general was concerned, to compensate Fatah for the anticipated weakening of its normative legitimacy in the wake of acceptance of Israel’s proposal. Thus, the collapse of the talks formed the major situational shift that highlighted the PA’s normative and political weaknesses and brought this institutional period to an end.

The PA’s institutional Regression The failure of the Camp David summit increased the sense of futility that already prevailed in the territories in light of the lack of progress in the negotiations with Israel. 137

Epilogue: New Setting, Old Dilemmas

In the weeks following the summit, the PA faced a choice between stabilizing its political legitimacy through political action and stabilizing its regulative and normative legitimacy through violent struggle. For a while, it seemed that it opted for the former; preparations were made for a confrontation with Israeli security forces, but no initiative to this effect was taken. Rather, the PA focused on attempts to mobilize international — and especially Arab — sympathy for its refusal to accept Israel’s positions, but this move was of marginal importance in the territories. In any event, the impression was that the PA was enmeshed in an irremediable political quagmire. The territories were tense with criticism of the PA when the late September 2000 visit of Israeli opposition leader Ariel Sharon to the Temple Mount sufficed to ignite the broad-based popular uprising. With the onset of the riots in the territories, the second operational alternative — channeling the agitation into a head-on confrontation with Israel — became the default choice. Reorienting the function of official PA security apparatuses so as to lead the forces on the street and manage the confrontation with the IDF was the only viable alternative. Thus commenced Fatah’s tenth institutional

phase. Fatah did not initiate the exact manner or the specific timing of the second, or alAqsa intifada. Nevertheless, from the perspective of the organization’s process of institutionalization, assuming a leading position of the uprising once it erupted was inevitable. Fatah thus strove to underscore its historic role as champion of the Palestinian national ethos. The confrontation with the IDF was meant to convey to various audiences from whom Fatah derived legitimacy for its leading role, chiefly the residents of the territories and the Palestinian refugees, that it remained worthy of its leadership status. This goal was no less — and perhaps even more ~ significant than the declared objectives of the uprising: breaking the political deadlock by means of a direct confrontation with the IDF, forcing a response from Israel, and drawing international attention to the conflict. In the course of the intifada, violence once again became the primary Palestinian means for pressuring the Israeli government, as well as an arena for competition over prestige and predominance in the politically fragmented territori es. This development was accelerated by the Israeli response to the violence: a systemat ic military effort that combined punishment, prevention, deterrence. and the Separation of belligerent elements from their bases of popular Support. Palestinian terrorist strikes and the Israeli reactions to them occurred in waves: every related outburst could be interpreted as either a response or as a stimulus that would be followed almost immediately by a response from the other side. In parallel but without any direct dialogue between them. the two sides concentrated increasingly on dealing with the respective implications of the continuing crisis, usually in coordination with foreign elements. In an attempt to strengthen the popular image of the uprising, the PA leadership encouraged belligerent elements to escalate the fight.‘ In the early days of the intifada. the role of the various armed bodies — the civilian police, the preventative security agencies in the Gaza Strip and the West Bank. and the factions of the Fatah-Tanzim — evolved from preserving public order to waging the violence. The Fatah leadership had for years sustained the Tanzim, which controlled and directed the organization’s street forces. When the riots erupted and the unrest threat ened the authority of the Fatahled PA, the Tanzim and other apparatuses were called into action. This move limited the scope of spontaneous, unauthorized demonstratio ns and subsequent confronta-

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Epilogue: New Setting, Old Dilemmas tions with the Israeli security forces. Yet what at the time appeared to be evidence that the PA enjoyed substantive regulative legitimacy and was in command of the violence, in the long term proved to be a sign of adeveloping loss of control. Organized terrorist activity not subject to PA central command escalated sharply in the ensuing months. Suicide terrorist attacks were carried out by the Islamic organizations, the PFLP, and the al-Aqsa Martyrs Brigades, which grew out of Tanzim branches. By 2001, these attacks, in their showcase and devastating tactics, were spearheading the struggle.? The involvement of the PA in the heightened violence against Israeli civilians and soldiers, both in the territories and within the Green Line, prompted an Israeli effort

to puncture the basis of PA control. In addition to the war against the terrorist infrastructures of Hamas, Islamic Jihad, and other opposition organizations, the Israeli security forces concentrated on undermining the preventative security agencies in the West Bank and the Gaza Strip. The result was their accelerated decline, which compounded the freedom of action gained by local factions. The Israeli response to the Palestinian violence escalated further after the September 11, 2001 attacks by alQaeda in the United States. The Bush administration’s subsequent declaration of an uncompromising global war on terrorism was interpreted by the Sharon government as a green light for Israel to destabilize the bases of power of the PA and its leader.!° Thus the PA became a central and frequent target of IDF attacks, and security agencies headquarters and police stations were among the institutions and symbols targeted. The siege that was imposed on Arafat’s headquarters was part of the comprehensive campaign against the PA and reflected the effort to undermine the PA’s institutional ground and particularly to dismiss Arafat personally as irrelevant to the Palestinian and international arenas. Arrests and raids staged in response to terrorist attacks were aimed at disrupting the activity of belligerent elements. Though targeting identified terror activists, attacks on leading figures not infrequently caused casualties and destruction in the surrounding area. Over the course of the confrontation, Israel also regained military control over areas that prior to the uprising had been under PA control. These developments disrupted life in the territories, and while both the Israeli and Palestinian economies were affected by the violence, the Palestinian economy, which was significantly weaker at the start, was particularly harmed.'! Regular transit of workers and goods from the territories was interrupted by the frequent and prolonged Israeliimposed closures and arduous inspections at roadblocks. Civilian infrastructures were so severely damaged that restoration to their pre-intifada level loomed far in the future. The violence continued in waves, and the number of casualties soared. From the eruption

of the

confrontation,

until

late

March

2005,

958

Israelis

and

3,255

Palestinians were killed.’ The support among the Israeli public for an uncompromising policy against terrorism provided public backing for the IDF activity in the territories and the suspension of security and diplomatic contacts with the PA. The same sentiment was one of the principal factors behind the victories of the Likud Party, headed by Sharon, in the February 2001 and January 2003 elections. Among the Palestinians, normative support for the violent struggle in general and for suicide attacks in particular reflected the belief that the continued confrontation would weaken Israel from within, while Israel’s militant response to the violence would . undermine its international standing. al agenda. internation the to The intifada returned the Israeli-Palestinian conflict

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Epilogue: New Setting, Old Dilemmas

Israel became an object of severe international criticism due to the scope of its military response to the terrorist attacks, which resulted in numerous casualties and massive devastation of civilian infrastructures. At the same time, no concerted international

pressure emerged capable of forcing Israel to withdraw from the territories, and despite the expectations of Palestinian elements, no proposal to dispatch foreign forces to the scene of the conflict was adopted. The Israeli government persisted in its policy of refusing to negotiate under fire, and made an absolute end of terrorist attacks a prerequisite to easing the hardships of the Palestinian population and to the renewal of political talks. However, the decline in the internal and international legitimacy that the PA enjoyed before the outbreak of the confrontation left it incapable of meeting this condition, even if it were willing to. Notwithstanding the criticism of Israeli policy, the PA’s international prestige was eroded by widespread recognition that its institutional status in the territories was deteriorating rapidly — largely due to the resumption by Israel, of control of the territories. In addition, it was clear that the PA avoided any serious attempt to prevent the terrorism incidents that inevitably drew a sharp response from Israel. Spates of terrorist attacks by the opposition organizations and units of al-Aqsa Martyrs Brigades, organizationally affiliated with Fatah, further demonstrated the undermining of PA authority and active control. Al-Aqsa Martyrs Brigades formed in the northern West Bank and southern Gaza Strip in a loose network of units. From 2002, the involvement of Hizbollah and Iran in Brigades activity grew steadily, while the Brigades’ links with the PA security agencies weakened. The strengthening of the factions not subject to the PA’s authority highlighted a persistent challenge to the regulative legitimacy of Fatah’s historical leadership: the rift that first emerged in the 1980s between the generation of activists born in the territories and the older generation of leaders who came from overseas.!3 At the outset ofthe intifada, domestic criticism of the PNA. audible since the organization’s creation, was peripheral to Palestinian public discourse. In light of the confrontation’s high human and economic costs, however, the corrupti on and faulty administrative norms resurfaced in public discussion and joined the criticism of the PA’s failure to translate the collective effort into diplomatic achievem ents. Despite the continued support for the struggle, indicated by public opinion surveys conducted in the territories, the confidence weakened in the PA’s ability to justify the immediate burden and reap long-term damages of the struggle. Critics demanded a revised strategy that would factor in the strain on the public incurred by the violent methods of the struggle. They also petitioned for the formulation of achievable goals for the struggle, in view ofthe growing difficulties in the confrontation arena. In the summer of 2002, calls were heard in the territories for an end to the armed conflict and the switch to a non-violent struggle, along the lines ofthe early stages ofthe first intifada. In June, a group of Palestinian politicians and intellectuals issued a call for reform that included a condemnation of suicide attacks against civilians inside the Green Line. Local popular committees were formed in the West Bank, primarily in the Ramallah

area, according to the model established at the time ofthe first intifada. These commit-

tees attempted to fill the vacuum created by the collapse of the PA civilian infrastructure, and to halt the expanding control of welfare institutions by Hamas. To a large extent this internal criticism matched the external demands for reform in government, iterated frequently by the Israeli govern ment and US administration.

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Both conditioned renewal of the diplomatic process on administrative and security apparatus changes in the PA. In contrast, Palestinian spokespersons stressed the diplomatic stalemate and the harsh Israeli actions as the critical obstacles to reform and democracy in the Palestinian political system. Yet in the summer of 2002 the PA leadership appeared to recognize the need to undertake some administrative restructuring, in order to facilitate the flow of aid into the territories, create jobs, and encourage Israel toward humanitarian action that would relieve the distress. The Palestinian leadership also hoped that reform would moderate internal criticism of the PA, thereby reestablishing its normative and regulative legitimacy, and rehabilitate its international image, thus reinstating its political legitimacy, and turn international sympathy into pressure on Israel. During the first year of the intifada, international parties still considered the PA a potential partner for dialogue: efforts to renew security and political coordination between the PA and Israel began as soon as the intifada broke out. But the election of a Likud government in February 2001 effectively ended the direct talks that had attempted to restore the pre-intifada status quo. Several attempts brokered by the US administration worked to foster conditions that would allow for a ceasefire and renewed negotiations, including efforts by former US senator George Mitchell,'* CIA director George Tenet,'* and General Anthony Zinni. Zinni’s trips to the region from December 2001 to March 2002 yielded few results. Zinni returned to the region in March 2002 in the wake of escalating terrorist attacks and heightened IDF operations in the territories, but encountered Israel’s adamant refusal to withdraw the IDF from

West Bank cities and the Palestinians’ refusal to guarantee quiet until the IDF returned to its pre-intifada positions. A suicide attack on March 27, 2002, the first night of Passover, put an end to Zinni’s attempts at a formula for mitigating the violence. Two days later, the IDF launched Operation Defensive Shield in the West Bank, an extensive effort that accelerated the ongoing military campaign of deep penetration raids in the territories that had begun several weeks earlier. The operation lasted four weeks and ended with the IDF in control of the cities and refugee camps in the West Bank. In late March, immediately after the Passover attack, the Arab League summit convened in Beirut and issued a communiqué outlining the principles for an Israeli-Arab settlement, based on a proposal by Saudi crown prince Abdullah. The announcement called for an Israeli withdrawal to the pre-1967 ceasefire lines in exchange for normalization of relations between Israel and the Arab states. However, in light of the gap between the long-term goal of the initiative and the events taking place in the conflict arena, the proposal failed to gather diplomatic momentum and remained merely a conceptual framework, which the parties could discuss if and when the circumstances changed.'® The renewed military conquest of the West Bank accelerated the decline in Israel’s international prestige. Nevertheless, the criticism of Israel and sympathy for the Palestinian cause failed to strengthen the PA’s standing as a legitimate partner for negotiations. A speech in June 2002 by President Bush, in the context of the Middle East theater in advance of the war in Iraq, posed Fatah’s leadership and the Palestinian national movement as a whole with a challenge of threatening implications. In his speech the president envisioned a future Palestinian state, but insisted that a change of regime in the territories and the election ofaleadership not implicated in terrorism was a prerequisite for progress toward realizing this goal." 141

Epilogue: New Setting, Old Dilemmas This framework also constituted the basis for the roadmap for peace in the Middle East. The roadmap was initiated by the European Union (EU), which was decidedly less critical of the PA and its leader than the US administration. In view of the emphasis placed by the US administration on counterterrorism, the Quartet, a forum consisting of the EU, the US, the UN, and Russia formed to promote an Israeli—Palestinian settle-

ment, stressed the importance of security reform in the PA as a precondition for resumption of a diplomatic process. The roadmap outlined three stages to the establishment of an independent Palestinian state in the context of a general settlement: (1) a halt in violence, and reforms in the PA; (2) general elections in the territories and the establishment of a Palestinian state with temporary borders; (3) completion of a permanent settlement in 2005. The Israeli government accepted the roadmap despite its objections to some of the contents, including the emphasis on IDF operations in the territories and continued construction in the settlements as incitements of violence. Since the roadmap was performance-based, however, Israel regarded it as a means to neutralize the rigid timetable for applying the stages toward a settlement. In one key respect, the roadmap suited Israel’s position: the insistence that with its current rubric and leadership the PA was not a partner for dialogue, and the hence the imperative to remove Arafat from a position of influence through elections in the territories. The foreign ministers of the Quartet approved the roadmap in July 2002: it was endorsed by the US administration the following October, and its implementation was scheduled to begin after the war in Iraq.'8 The combination of internal and outside pressures caused a shakeup in the Palestinian political system. In June 2002, even before President Bush’s speech, Arafat presented a 100-day plan, which included the appointment of a cabinet comprised primarily of his followers, joined by a few new professional ministers. On the insistence of the Israeli government and the Quartet, Arafat reorganized the PA security agencies, although he was careful to ensure that the changes would not affect his traditional power bases. In a measure designed to forestall any threat from within to Arafat’s status, the PA regional heads of preventive security, Mohammad Dahlan and Jibril Rajoub, were transferred from their positions. This step also testified to the lack ofany intention to move against the armed opposition organizations as demanded by some internal critics. In other words, Arafat avoided making any commitment that he was unable or unwilling to fulfill, and refrained from any meaningful action that could improve the PA’s international standing at the expense of his personal status and that of the PA in the territories. Regarding the economy, on the other hand, there was substantive change. Salam Fayyad, a recognized economist who had won the trust of the Israeli government and the US administration, was made responsible for economic reform, and in this position, gained control over some of the PA’s revenues. The

government of Israel welcomed the economic reform in the PA, and released some of

the Palestinian tax revenues that had been frozen when the intifada began.! The following months witnessed more terrorist attacks and Israeli retaliatory strikes, nullifying any efforts at talks toward a ceasefire. Arafat’s cabinet resigned and was soon replaced with a cabinet similar in makeup, which as such posed no immediate threat to Arafat’s official standing. Another step toward structura l reform in the PA was taken in March 2003, when the PLC approved the appoint ment of a prime minister and Mahmoud Abbas was appointed to forma cabinet. A prominent member of the older PLO generation, Abbas was an outspoken critic of the violent intifada; as 142

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Epilogue: New Setting, Old Dilemmas

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one of the PA personalities from outside the territories, however, he lacked any independent power base. At the time of his appointment and while a new government was in formation, terrorist activity declined substantially. Israeli security sources assessed that renewed Israeli military control of the territories, the persistent hunt for Hamas members and other belligerent elements, and the undermining of the PA’s centers of control had achieved their goal. In order to recreate PA grass-roots control and protect the drop in violence, Abbas sought to appoint Dahlan as minister of internal affairs, responsible for security. However, the national security forces — the Palestinian army that was transplanted from Tunisia upon Arafat’s return to the territories — as well as the general intelligence, regional governors, and Tanzim remained under Arafat’s control, out of the reach of the minister ofinternal affairs. In May 2003 with the help of the Quartet, the PLC approved the new government, heavily populated by Arafat’s longstanding loyalists. Abbas’ most significant test, however, still lay before him.

Politics of Violent Mobilization Negotiations between the Palestinian organizations to reach agreement on the nature and goals of the struggle, as well as the failure of these contacts, were among the key indications of a weakened PA. These talks, which took place both inside and outside the territories, were accompanied from an early stage by external pressure and mediation, underlying the difficulty of achieving a direct dialogue between the various parties. The specific goals of the talks evolved according to developments in the conflict arena, in the external environment, and in the internal Palestinian scene. In any case, Israel was not a party to these discussions but an interested spectator who influenced their development and whose policy was affected by their results. The questions raised at the beginning of the talks that consistently remained open were whether the belligerent organizations would refrain from terrorist attacks that provoked Israel’s standard responses to violence, and whether the creation of any effective civilian and military authority would be possible in the territories from which Israel withdrew. The first set of talks, which opened in early 2001 and continued intermittently for approximately one year, aimed to unify the factions in light of the developing reality in the conflict arena. From a Palestinian perspective, this was dominated by the distress of the population in the territories and the weakening of the PA’s control during the uprising. For the PA, the renewal of diplomatic dialogue with Israel was only a secondary goal, while a ceasefire was a means of stabilizing its position at home. Indeed, the very participation of Hamas in the talks constituted recognition of its internal Palestinian standing, in addition to its proven ability to use terrorist attacks to affect the course of the conflict. Overall, the escalation of the violence out of the control of the PA and fear that the intensification of the Israeli—Palestinian conflict would instigate upheaval in their own territory led the Egyptian government, together with Saudi Arabia and Jordan, to work toward formulating understandings between the PA, Fatah, Tanzim, Hamas, Islamic Jihad, and the other opposition factions on legitimate conflict methods. In mid-2002, the EU became increasingly involved in the attempts to formalize the talks between the various factions. The meetings that began in Cairo in November 2002 marked a new phase in the talks, featuring more intensive Egyptian involvement in intra-Palestinian relations as

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well as the definite positioning of the Fatah-affiliated al-Aqsa Martyrs Brigades in the ranks of the opposition, together with Hamas and Islamic Jihad. At the top of the agenda lay a possible hudna — an agreement between the organizations on a temporary halt in the violence for a specific period of time. The declaration by Sharon during the election campaign in Israel that a permanent settlement between Israel and the Palestinians would include the establishment of an independent Palestinian state heightened the interest of the Hamas leadership in preventing the renewal of political dialogue. Yet disputes within Fatah itself concerning terms for agreement on a hudna, as well as the Israel Air Force attacks against Hamas’s military infrastructure, interrupted the inter-organizational dialogue on a ceasefire. Already by late January 2003, a suicide bombing on a Jerusalem bus by the al-Aqsa Martyrs Brigades highlighted the PA’s loss of control over gangs affiliated with Fatah and Tanzim. For its part, Hamas rejected pressures to restrain its military wing, Izz a-Din al Kassam, and accede to the PA’s demand that attacks be confined to the West Bank.and Gaza Strip. In addition to the persistent lack of agreement on the borders and character of the future Palestinian state, representation of the Islamic movement in the PA’s institutions remained a bone of contention between the organizations. The ceasefire declared in late June 2003 followed a series of further contacts between the PA and the opposition organizations, which peaked in a few weeks of intensive talks held under intense international pressure. The PA and Hamas, followed by Fatah, the al-Aqsa Martyrs Brigades, Islamic Jihad, and the DFLP — separately, since no joint announcement was published — declared their willingness to suspend terrorist attacks against Israeli soldiers and civilians for three months, both in the territories and within the Green Line. Fatah, for its part, undertook to halt terrorist attacks for six months. These announcements emerged against the backdrop of intense efforts that involved Egypt, Jordan, and other Arab states as well as Abbas, Sharon, and Bush, to launch the first stage of the roadmap.” For the Abbas government, a pause in terrorist attacks was an existential necessity. A halt to the violence could strengthen the PA’s internal standing by improving its international prestige, especially if the Quartet regarded the lull as the PA’s successful fulfillment of its obligation to restrain violence, and on that basis demand that Israel carry out its part of the first stage in the roadmap. In exchange for a ceasefire, the PA expected Israel to release prisoners, relax closures and sieges, withdraw from urban centers, cease deep penetration raids, halt the pursuit of wanted terrorists, freeze settlement construction, and evacuate illegal outposts. The respite was also expected to secure the release of funds frozen in Israel and generate a flow of European aid, thereby facilitating the rehabilitation of both government institutions and civilian infrastructures in the territories. In addition, the ceasefire based on an agreement among the organizations was designed to augment, if only for appearance’s sake, the PA’s regulative legitimacy by allowing the rebuilding of the Palestinian security agencies and reestablishing the PA’s monopoly over the use of weapons. The possibility that the hudna would allow the Abbas government to establish itself on a firm basis was the price that Hamas and the other opposition organizations had to pay in order to preserve their position. The resumption of the diplomatic channel was considered a threat that necessitated cooperation with the PA. The concurrent escalating IDF pursuit of active members of the terrorist front also played a role in convincing Hamas to declare its willingness to suspend terrorist attacks. 144

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The Israeli—Palestinian talks were concluded with an agreement on the transfer of responsibility for security in the Gaza Strip and Bethlehem to the Palestinians and the suspension of Israeli military activity in the territories. In exchange, the PA was obligated to act against terrorism. However, Hamas and Islamic Jihad were not obligated to the understandings between the PA and Israel, and the PA, for its part, could not commit to a head-on confrontation with the belligerent opposition. The balance, whereby steps designed to enhance international legitimacy were likely to undermine domestic legitimacy, eliminated any possibility of forcibly restraining the belligerent elements and renewing security coordination with Israel, let alone resuming the diplomatic process.

The ceasefire came into effect at the beginning of July 2003 and was followed by a few weeks of relative quiet. Within a few weeks after the hudna was declared, incitement and support for continuing the confrontation declined in the Palestinian street. The transit of people and goods through roadblocks was eased, licenses to work in Israel were increased, more than 300 prisoners were released from Israeli jails, and targeted killings were suspended. Yet, the lack of coordination between the various Palestinian security apparatuses prevented full law enforcement, which, over time and subject to a renewal of the diplomatic process, might have circumscribed the violence. Israel, for its part, demanded concrete steps to disarm the organizations. IDF arrests and raids in the territories continued. More than once, operational tactics dominated overall considerations, while the residual effects on the general cycle of violence were largely ignored. Humanitarian gestures by Israel, which could have enhanced Abbas’ popular image as a champion of the Palestinians, were of limited scope. A suicide terrorist attack on a bus in Jerusalem, carried out on August 21, 2003 jointly by Hamas and Islamic Jihad, prompted a decision by the Israeli government to target Hamas leaders, leaving none of them immune. At the same time, it continued to

demand the disarming of the Palestinian organizations, a move that could not be accomplished without a direct confrontation among Palestinians. Hamas and Islamic Jihad renounced the hudna. Arafat, Abbas, and PA Minister of Planning and International Cooperation Nabil Sha’th called for its renewal, but within a few weeks, it was evident that the inter-organizational dynamic had not changed. In a measure designed to demonstrate his control at home, Arafat ordered the confiscation of twelve of the funds that financed Hamas welfare activities and invited the needy to apply to PA offices. In view of the PA’s new apparent determination to restrain terrorism and the resumption of Israel’s policy of targeted killings, Hamas leaders went underground and tried to renew discussions of a hudna. Other factors motivating them included the fear that they would lose popular support, given the hardships of daily life in the territories; the worsening of Hamas’s economic situation caused by its classification as a terrorist organization by the EU; and the suspension of aid operations by the Arab world. Mahmoud Abbas resigned in mid-September. He blamed the collapse of his government to a large degree on Arafat, who prevented the consolidation of the Palestinian security forces and did not promote a ceasefire, which would have obliged Israel to suspend IDF operations in the territories. The failure to formulate an enforceable position regarding a ceasefire was evidence of the institutionalization of the conflict in the domestic Palestinian scene. The limited responsiveness of the Israeli government to the attempts to restrain terrorist attacks under these circumstances and

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the irrelevance of the roadmap to events in the conflict arena rendered the Palestinian scene all the more volatile. Following Abbas’s resignation, the formation of a new government was entrusted to Ahmed Qurei (Abu Ala), spokesman of the PLC. Qurei, for his part, left decisions about appointments to Fatah institutions — a signal of his intention to avoid any confrontation with Arafat and the PLO’s older generation. On November 12 the Qurei government, consisting mostly of Arafat loyalists, was sworn in. Except for maintaining the new position of prime minister, the composition of the government reflected no structural reform in the PA. In this case, no overall control of the various

security forces was given to the prime minister or the minister of internal affairs. The incoming prime minister announced that he intended to implement the roadmap and to try to promote a ceasefire among the organizations. In contrast to his predecessor, however, Qurei refrained from making a commitment to halt the violent intifada. Aware of the most significant challenge facing him, he promised to gain control of the independent armed elements. Nonetheless, this task, which in the early stages of the intifada was believed to be less difficult than restoring Israeli-Palestinian trust and reconstructing the diplomatic process, proved to be extremely difficult, if not impossible, to accomplish. Upon taking office, Qurei initiated discussions to renew the hudna. Islamic Jihad and Hamas initially rejected calls to halt terrorist attacks until the formulation of understandings for an official ceasefire, and contacts were not revived in Cairo until early December 2003. As in previous rounds of talks ona hudna, without Egyptian pressure and mediation the various elements could not have been brought together. This time, the Egyptian initiative, supported by Damascus, was formulated under pressure from the European Union and the United States to help establish quiet in the territories. Even before the December talks, meetings took place between Qurei and Israeli defense representatives with the goal of reaching tacit understandings, yet with no illusions of reaching a binding agreement. This time, added to this list of Palestinian demands was a demand for a halt in the construction of the separation fence in the West Bank, approved by the Israeli government in April 2002, and the demolishi ng of the parts already erected. The Israeli government depicted the fence as a barrier to thwart terrorists intent on staging attacks, particularly suicide attacks within the Green Line, and therefore essentially a security measure. Much of the fence was to run east

of the Green Line, while certain parts surrounded large settlement blocs, effectively

dividing areas in the West Bank and enclosing Palestinian towns with a wall. The fence became a bone of contention between Israel and the United States because it was impossible to separate its declared security objectives from its political image as a unilateral measure for establishing territorial facts on the ground. The discussions between the Palestinian organizations reached an impasse several days after they began. The immediate pretext for their interruption was the announcement on December 4, 2003 of the Geneva initiative, a product of a series of unofficial Israeli—Palestinian talks (track-II negotiations). The initiative, which outlined principles for a permanent settlement and set mutual conditions for reining in the cycle of violence, drew both criticism from Israelis and Palestinians, as well as serious interest in its particulars. Fatah disavowed the initiative, and the Islamic organizations, which stressed the contradiction between those understandings and the talks in Cairo, withdrew from the talks as soon as it was published. However, when the assassinations of

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terrorist leaders resumed, the Hamas leadership proposed a compromise that would exempt

Israeli civilians from the confrontation

for a period of three months,

yet

rejected an Egyptian proposal for a general unilateral ceasefire. In addition to the traditional disputes between the Palestinian organizations, another obstacle to a ceasefire lay in the operations of independent elements that had broken free of any institutionalized framework and had either disavowed their organizational loyalties or had emerged autonomously. Demonstrative parades of activists shooting in the streets and the violent settling of personal accounts became routine events. Entire neighborhoods in cities and refugee camps in the West Bank were controlled by gangs affiliated with the al-Aqsa Martyrs Brigades. In the Gaza Strip, Islamic groups became a factor deterring attempts to enforce central authority, particularly measures to collect unauthorized arms.

The Challenge of Disengagement The inability to implement even the first stage of the roadmap pushed both Israelis and Palestinians to unilateral, self-serving measures that would reduce the problems of their respective populations created by the years of violence. Israel proceeded with the construction of the separation fence, which it portrayed as an indispensable measure to contain the security situation. On the Palestinian side, restoration of public order and renewal of the PA’s authority became the most important goals. As in the past, efforts in this direction were made through external mediation, mostly by Egypt. Intra-Palestinian power struggles, particularly between the remnants of the security agencies on the one hand, and the independent factions that had seceded from Fatah and members of Hamas and Islamic Jihad on the other, escalated against the backdrop of intensified public discussion in Israel of a unilateral disengagement from the Gaza Strip. This idea was further evidence that Israel had abandoned the option of an agreed settlement, and was interpreted as an acknowledgment of the limited ability of military control to grapple with terrorism successfully.*’ The political and security debate in Israel focused on the disengagement plan, which was presented as both a security solution and as a political-territorial measure. Both the fence and the disengagement plan won significant support in Israeli public opinion, and both aroused bitterness and anxiety in the Palestinian public. While opposition to the fence remained general and a matter ofprinciple, however, a trend evolved in Palestinian public opinion toward accepting the idea of disengagement. Preparations for the period following the Israeli withdrawal from the Gaza Strip were launched. In mid-March 2004, in coordination with Egyptian and British security officials, the PA presented a multi-stage plan for enforcing order. Concurrently, belligerent elements in the Gaza Strip redoubled their efforts to prove that withdrawal would be conducted under pressure. At the same time, Hamas leader Sheikh Yassin

announced readiness to consider halting terrorist attacks in the Gaza Strip if the IDF indeed withdrew, but warned that terrorist attacks would escalate in the absence of a corresponding withdrawal in the West Bank. Hamas likewise did not disavow the intention in principle to coordinate activity with the PA. As Hamas had always done since it was founded, however, its leaders rejected the invitation to join the national leadership, since its demand for representation proportionate to popular support for 147

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the Islamic movement was denied. Nor did Hamas try to assert its responsibility for security in the Gaza Strip. Hamas left this task, which would inevitably be interpreted as surrender to Israeli pressure and a move toward dialogue with Israel, to the PA. In late March Qurei declared that disengagement could prove an opportunity to resurrect the diplomatic process. This statement followed a series of events that reflected further how much the dynamics of confrontation were rooted in the conflict. A suicide terrorist attack in Israel’s Ashdod port on March 14, 2004 was carried out jointly by Hamas and the al-Aqsa Martyrs Brigades, with help from Hizbollah. The attack, which was designed to demonstrate the limitations of the separation fence and enhance efforts to portray an Israeli disengagement as withdrawal under fire, was evidence of the disintegration of Fatah control over its own factions in the Gaza Strip. The Israeli security cabinet resolved to escalate the attacks against Palestinian leaders implicated in terrorism, in order to deliver a deterring message and to counter accusations by right-wing circles in Israel that withdrawal constituted surrender to terrorism. The assassination of Sheikh Yassin on March 22, 2004 illustrated the seriousness of this intention. Calls for revenge were voiced in the territories, and the funeral procession for Yassin turned into a demonstration of power by Hamas. A request by Palestinian public figures, including PA officials, to exercise restraint and abandon the armed struggle was officially rejected by the Islamic organizations and found no support in the territories. The rift between the Israeli government and the PA, in addition to the PA’s difficulty in reconciling with the opposition forces, expedited international efforts to help the PA overcome anarchy, particularly in anticipation of Israeli disengagement. Pressure was applied on Arafat to permit a reorganization of forces. For its part, the Israeli cabinet acted to coordinate the separation fence project with the US. Objections by the US administration to the route of the fence, since it was regarded as liable to complicate the establishment of a viable Palestinian state with reasonable territorial

contiguity, led to an amended

demarcation.

The US adherence to its Middle East

vision also explained the administration’s demand that disengagement from the Gaza Strip be part ofaplan that would include dismantling of settlements in the West Bank. The debate over Sharon’s proposed disengagement plan in Israel, the territories, and around the world reflected the assessment that its implementation was only a matter of time. Discussion therefore centered on preparations for the period following disengagement, rather than on the merits of disengagement itself. In early April 2004, with Egyptian mediation, the Palestinian organizations formulated yet another draft understanding on cooperating to achieve order in the areas from which the IDF would withdraw. In contrast to Egypt, which acted to foster Palestinian unity in the belief that law enforcement would be impossible without Hamas. the US administra tion warned against including Hamas, classified as a terrorist organization, in the Palestinian national leadership. This position ignored the fact that curbing terrorism without Palestinian unity would be no less difficult than it had been after the roadmap was first launched, when the PA was unable to stop violence due to a lack of coordination between its forces and Hamas. Since then, the security and legal institutions of the PA reached a state of collapse, and popular support for Hamas increased significantly.” Efforts to reach an agreement between Palestinian organizations that would restore order in the territories proceeded in parallel to the measures adopted by Israel for

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dealing with the crisis. The respective efforts reflected the fact that their link with any coordinated diplomatic plan along the lines of the roadmap was becoming increasingly tenuous. However, restraining the violence was in any case no longer considered part of an agenda shared by the PA, Israel, and the Quartet, but as a Palestinian national goal in its own right and a primary institutional interest of the Fatah-led PA. As was made clear in the early months of the second intifada, the cycle of violence could not be broken because Israel and the Palestinians held different conceptions of why the conflict escalated. Israel stipulated a halt in terrorism as a condition for canceling IDF activity in the territories, while the PA insisted on the IDF returning to its positions before the outbreak ofviolence as a precondition for restraining terrorism. The renewed occupation of the West Bank and the Gaza Strip by the IDF weakened the PA’s control there and promoted the increased freedom of action by elements not recognizing the authority of any national institution. The leadership changes in the PA, instituted as a result of internal and external pressure, neither led to a change in the nature of the struggle nor enhanced the PA’s ability to impose its authority on belligerent opposition elements. Thus, violence by opposition elements stimulated Israeli military reprisals and prevented measures designed to calm the situation, halt the collapse of the civilian infrastructure, and enable a resumption of negotiations. On the whole, the PA’s grip on the territories loosened, while no other party arose in its place that was capable of adopting an alternate strategy for leading the struggle and presenting the Israeli government with a substantial political challenge. From an Israeli perspective, the prolonged crisis strengthened the perception that emerged already in the first weeks of the confrontation, that Israel had no negotiating partner, regardless of the particulars of any proposed settlement. At the same time, the extended confrontation drew attention to strategic challenges; the diplomatic process, even if bumpy and accompanied by violent events, had previously made it easy to postpone discussion of these issues. The chief challenges raised were the demographic consequences of continued occupation and the preservation of the settlement enterprise in its entirety, i.e., Israel’s future as a Jewish state, and the social consequences of continued control over millions of Palestinians, i.e., Israel’s future as a democratic country. Recognition of Israel’s contribution to the ongoing violence, through its continued presence and massive military operation in the territories, and especially the limited degree to which Israel’s conventional military power could be channeled to repress terrorism significantly, also emerged. This led to a change in the conclusions drawn from the years of confrontation. Palestinian terrorism remained the main reason for the rift between the Israeli government and the PA, but from the perspective of the Israeli public as reflected in opinion polls, the importance of terrorism as a factor in continued military control of the territories and preventing an organized withdrawal lessened. In the Palestinian territories themselves, the accumulated damage caused by the conflict — the casualties, destruction of infrastructures, and collapse of a central authority — increased support for the violent struggle and the opposition organizations, as well as affiliation with factions that had broken off from a command hierarchy. At the same time, there were more calls in the territories to abandon the armed struggle and continue the struggle through non-violent means. Also voiced occasionally was the possibility of altering the balance of forces between Israel and Palestinian society through demographic pressure; that is, by waiting for the day when Palestinians would

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constitute a majority between the Mediterranean Sea and the Jordan River and win control over the country through elections on the basis of “one man, one vote.” This solution for the crisis, however, born of the realization that the intifada could not be

converted into diplomatic and territorial achievements despite international sympathy for the Palestinians, did not alter the public agenda. Belligerent elements, which persisted in their effort to stimulate an Israeli military response, dictated the events. In view of the failure to reach a compromise between the various factions and the anarchy prevailing in the territories, the renewal of dialogue with Israel became secondary to the restoration of public order. The understandings reached between the Bush administration and Ariel Sharon regarding Israeli disengagement from the territories, as publicly announced in midApril 2004 and approved by the Congress two months later, included an agreement on the final goal of establishing a Palestinian state in the Gaza Strip and the West Bank. The main parameters for establishing such a state, however, were decided without input from the Palestinian side. These parameters featured precluding the return of refugees to the State of Israel, the acceptance of settlement blocs on the West Bank, and the method of implementing the plan, that is, in accordance with the scope and timing of the Israeli withdrawal. Overall, the understandings were blatant testimony to the loss of Palestinian political legitimacy and international political weight. Sharon’s disengagement plan aroused deep concern in the territories and some sharp criticism in the international arena. However, the political commotion over the plan did not eclipse a significant change within the Israeli public over the territorial Status quo and perception on the relations with the Palestinian leadership. The metamorphosis that occurred once the Oslo process was replaced by a direct and bloody confrontation was reflected in public support for the plan. For many Israelis, Israeli—Palestinian cooperation in making and implementing decisions was no longer deemed a prerequisite for what was considered a necessary withdrawal from the Gaza Strip and the West Bank. This change constituted a significant situational shift that undermined the PLO’s principal institutional accomplishment: its acceptance by Israel as a legitimate political counterpart. PA chairman Yasir Arafat, who over the years had been the symbol of the institutional heights of the Palestinian national movement and in the course of the al-Aqsa intifada became the symbol of its institutional regression, died on November 11, 2004.

On January 9, 2005, Mahmoud Abbas was elected chairman of the PA. The choice of

Abbas, a vocal critic ofthe violent intifada, reflected hope for administrative and security reforms that would enable reversal of the uprising’s devastating impact and normalization of daily life in the territories.23 From Fatah’s perspective, and particularly in light of the disintegration of its centers of power and the mounting influence of Hamas, winning the presidential elections was a necessary step toward improving the PA’s regulative and normative position. Regulative and normative recovery in turn was expected to enhance the international standing of the Fatah-led Palestinian Authority, that is, to recover its pre-intifada institutional position. Fatah’s biography charts its successful institutionalization process — in intra-organizational and inter-organizational terms, as well as in the national and internati onal contexts — long before the eruption in September 2000 of the al-Aqsa intifada. Therefore, any agreement reached in order to advance an interim or permanen t settlement of the Israeli—Palestinian conflict would inevitably have been an outcome of the

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violent and political struggle led by Fatah over the years. Facing the institutional crisis that evolved in the aftermath of the July 2000 Camp David summit, Fatah’s leadership embraced the violent struggle as means to remind all of the parties to the Madrid—Oslo process that no agreement involving the Palestinians would be concluded without the express consent of the Fatah-led PA. Ironically, however, the prospects for attaining this goal grew all the more dim over the course of the confrontation. The eroding credibility of the PA not only considerably hindered but actually reversed the institutionalization process of the PLO. The organization’s most impressive achievement was the almost complete identification between international recognition of the legitimacy of the Palestinian people’s struggle for self-determination and international recognition of the right of the PA, as the organizational extension of the PLO. to lead the struggle. During the intifada a breach developed between the PA’s stature and the political objective upon which it was originally founded. Thus, while the international recognition of the Palestinian people’s right to national independence remained as firm as it was on the eve of the uprising and the need to promote this goal, as perceived in the regional and international arenas, even intensified, the PA’s domestic and international stature grew increasingly tenuous. This development was unequivocally one of the most momentous challenges ever to the institutionalization process of the Fatah-led Palestinian national movement.

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Over four decades, Fatah was transformed from a strictly-regulated organization focusing on violent mobilization into the vanguard of a broad popular movement. This process of transformation, by which Fatah modeled itself in progressive though not linear fashion into the organizational embodiment of the Palestinian national cause and aspirations, was upheld by normative, communal legitimacy. Therefore, the need to regulate the movement even more closely increased. This, in turn, implied mounting operational emphasis on non-violent, civil undertakings. Over time diplomatic mobilization became increasingly accentuated as well, as Fatah turned to translate already established intra-organizational and communal sources of legitimacy into political gains in the international arena. From a minor organization plagued by inter-group rivalries yet recognized by the majority of the Palestinian national collective as its sole legitimate leader, Fatah assumed the dominant role in the PLO, which became the

internationally recognized representative of the Palestinian national movement. Against all odds, the PLO, driven by Fatah, metamorphosed from a marginal organization charged with heralding the Palestinian cause into a globally recognized authority responsible for Palestinian nation-building. The book’s analysis of Fatah’s evolution is based on the premise that this organization, like any other organization and in particular organized popular struggles, demonstrates its own process of institutionalization. Hence, in addition to offering a systematic account of how Fatah and the Fatah-led PLO fought their way to significant institutional accomplishments, the analysis presented in this book exemplifies the applicability of the institutional conceptualization and analytical guidelines to the specific sphere of organized popular struggles. This conceptualization also offers critical explanations for the frequent though not systematically explored oscillation of organized popular struggles between phases that focus on violent struggle and those in which non-violent, civil, and diplomatic ventures form an organization’s main course of struggle. Specifically, the conceptual construct of organizational institutionalization proposes explanations as to why and how organizations develop through a series of phases, each marked by structural, strategic, and tactical distinctiveness. These phases themselves do not follow a standard order, but rather are determined by past accomplishments of the organization, its desired goals, and given situational constraints and opportunities. In each institutional phase, the organization-situational interplay is reflected in a governing base of legitimacy — regulative, normative, or political. Each legitimacy base is reflected in characteristic structural and operational features. By and large, regulative legitimacy governs strictly-defined organizations engaging in

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confrontational interaction with the environment. Normative and political bases of legitimacy govern more inclusive organizations engaging in non-confrontational interaction with the environment. Shifts in the balance among the diverse bases of legitimacy, as demonstrated in modifications in structural and operational emphases, represent a realignment of the organization’s ends and means in response to external threats. Hence institutional transformations are organizational measures to preserve and enhance sustainability and further growth in a given, essentially challenging situational setting. This conceptual construct offers fresh insights and critical parameters for probing the evolutionary processes of organized popular struggles. In fact, the two principal formations of such struggles, organizations and movements, appear to be different institutional phases, governed by different bases of legitimacy. Thus, terrorist organizations are generally associated with clearly defined organizational boundaries and operational emphasis on violent struggle. Social movements, on the other hand, are generally associated with fairly unstructured boundaries and operational emphasis on non-violent mobilization. In institutional terms, therefore, terrorist organizations can be said to be governed by regulative, intra-organizational legitimacy, since their closed organizational formation and confrontational action suggest that the organization itself'is the main source of legitimacy for the coordination for action. Social movements can be said to be governed by normative legitimacy, since their amorphous formation and non-confrontational action suggest attention to a communal resource of legitimacy. At the same time, both types of organized popular struggle may be based on external, political legitimacy. The logic of institutional transformations thus clarifies the inclination of both terrorist organizations and social movements to undergo structural and operational shifts in the course of their lives, and particularly their frequent oscillation between the two organizational constructs. Institutional transformations are interpreted as organizational responses to unfolding external developments that shake an existing logic of action. The broadening of organizational boundaries and mounting emphasis on nonviolent mobilization by a terrorist organization marks increasing focus on normative and/or political legitimacy; hence its transformation to a social movement. Conversely, establishing or reestablishing strict boundaries for a social movement, in addition to mounting emphasis on confrontational action, marks increasing focus on regulative legitimacy; hence the transformation of forces affiliated with the movement into a violent faction. Oscillating focus on the diverse bases of legitimacy essentially reflects recurring realignment of ends and means, intended for enhancing appropriateness between institutional objectives and courses of mobilization in light of external pressures as they unfold. From this perspective and its derived concepts and premises, Fatah’s evolution adds up to a series of phases, marked by oscillating shifts in emphasized bases of legitimacy. These transformations, as inferred from revisions in structural and operational features, were the organization’s responses to dramatic situational developments that challenged its institutional interests. Together, these transformations tell the story of the organization’s phased institutionalization. The consolidation of Fatah’s organizational core, that is, its regulative pillar of legitimacy, was associated, especially in the organization’s early phases, with an aggressive, confrontational approach vis-a-vis its environment. The strategy of violent

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conusion

=

sd

struggle gave the organization’s founding nucleus a unifying cause, and thus was central to the organization’s emergence as a distinctive entity. It was also designed to mobilize popular support for the organization and for its cause. This created a reserve of normative legitimacy, both for Fatah itself and for its goals and methods, which was manifested and enhanced by the growing engagement of the organization’s regulative core with Palestinian society at large. The normative legitimacy, buttressed by intensive activity at the societal level, confirmed the organization’s ascendance over the Palestinian popular movement. As such, Fatah gave structure and support for the Palestinian national cause, which prior to this had been a highly fragmented series of unarticulated individual and collective grievances. It also gained superiority over the fractious network of Palestinian organizations. At the same time, the organization’s regulative core was expanded so as to solidify its normative base of support. Together, the normative and regulative bases, which testified to Fatah’s increasing institutionalization as the leader of a national movement, notwithstanding persistent challenges from other organizations that strove to promote similar institutional goals, were instrumental in according Fatah its eventual political legitimacy. A significant accomplishment in this regard was the organization’s success in assuming control of the Palestine Liberation Organization, which had itself previously lacked self-reliant regulative and normative legitimacy, having lived entirely off the support of Arab state sponsorship. Primacy over the PLO enhanced Fatah’s quest for regional and international recognition. Indeed, the political legitimacy that was acquired by the Fatah-led PLO induced still further shifts in the balance among Fatah’s courses of action, promoting engagement in, and eventually even emphasis on, non-violent, political-diplomatic activities. In addition, external recognition supported Fatah’s popular base and inter-organizational standing. Thus, each mode of mobilization — violent, civil, or political — upheld a specific institutional pillar at the same time that it served to foster other ones. The fluctuating primacy of the three institutional pillars over the years entailed a fluctuating emphasis on various modes of action. Thus the evolving emphasis on the normative and political pillars both resulted from and determined a growing emphasis on civil and political enterprises. At the same time, violent practice preserved the same functions that it had served during the organization’s nascent phases — it continued to be a primary means for mobilizing normative and regulative legitimacy. In times of political decline, violence would regain its initial importance as a means of making the organization’s presence and agenda felt in its environment. In other words, throughout the organization’s course ofinstitutionalization, violent struggle remained a useful tool to force other actors to take the organization’s institutional goals and needs into account. Fatah’s institutionalization process demonstrates that various modes of action intended for mobilizing regulative, normative, or political legitimacy are not mutually exclusive. Fatah’s decision to emphasize a certain mode of mobilization that would promote a particular base of legitimacy did not prevent it from also seeking to bolster others. Indeed, the diverse pillars of legitimacy were mutually sustainin g, which is what enables — or more precisely requires — the fluctuation between organiza tion-like and movement-like characteristics. Popular support was coordinated and governed by the organization’s regulative apparatuses, which continuously expande d as the organization gained the characteristics of a movement. The bases of regulativ e and normative

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legitimacy served to mobilize the third — political legitimacy. External recognition in turn reinforced the regulative and normative dominance of Fatah and of the Fatahled PLO in the internal Palestinian setting. Hence externally and internally-derived bases of legitimacy served to reinforce one another. With that, it is also apparent that persistent tensions existed among the various bases of legitimacy, creating a need to manage the dynamics among them. Fatah’s development and expansion served to foster intensive efforts from a variety of rivals to arrest its growth and its ascent to power. The far-reaching ideological objectives of liberating the whole of Palestine, coupled with the strategy of violent struggle to achieve that end, disrupted the state-centered agendas of Middle Eastern states. Fatah’s activities threatened to drag them into a war not of their own choosing and to undermine the stability of their regimes. Thus Fatah’s organizational growth and its mounting military potential provided both regional states and sub-state actors with a pretext to battle against the organized Palestinian infrastructure. In some cases, the confrontations engendered by Fatah’s burgeoning strength significantly disabled its institutionalization enterprise, especially when they resulted in the uprooting of its administrative and operational infrastructures, as in Jordan and Lebanon. In both of these instances, the organization found itself forced to abandon existing assets and, phoenix-like, establish itself anew. Constant tension also prevailed between the violent struggle and the social and political courses of action. Development of the organization’s civil infrastructure, the vulnerability of that infrastructure, and the political accomplishments attained by the Fatah-led PLO were all factors that militated against the organization’s declared strategy of violence. The violent course of action persisted in part because it constituted a sphere of competition among the diverse organizations vying for leadership of the national movement. However, over time and in response to changing circumstantial constraints, this modus operandi changed both in terms of tactics and choice of location. To reduce the damage to relations with established governments, particularly in the West, Fatah and other PLO-affiliated organizations gradually reduced the sphere of their violent action to the actual conflict arena — Israel and the occupied territories. When the mobilizing potential of violence appeared to be exhausted, only a major political accomplishment could provide the organization with prospects for further institutionalization. The political path was inevitably risky, inasmuch as it necessitated a departure from existing regulative and normative bases of legitimacy. However, realignments of ends and means through endorsement of strategic pragmatism preserved Fatah’s leading position at the forefront of the Palestinian national struggle. Significantly, changes of circumstance did not create tensions among the diverse legitimacy pillars. Rather, they amplified existing tensions that were inherent within the organization’s composite process of institutionalization. Moreover, it is specifically the intra-organizational tension that underlay, at least in large measure, the frequency of splits and schisms within the patchwork of Palestinian resistance organizations. The systematic realignment of institutional ends and means subsequent to major situational changes shows that they served as determinants of institutional transformation. The organization’s ability to thrive in the face of external threats could only be secured by strategic adaptations. Thus, the realignment of ends to means was the answer to shifting circumstances as they unfolded in the course of the organization’s 155

Conclusion

history. Fatah’s very survival, as well as its impressive institutional biography, is testimony to its successful response to environmental threats and opportunities. Its ascendance as the representative of the Palestinian people and its ability to sustain that preeminence reflects its organizational prowess at the same time that it encapsulates the institutionalization of the Palestinian cause as a whole. Notwithstanding setbacks such as Fatah’s institutional regression with the September 2000 eruption of the uprising in the territories, the institutionalization of the regulative, normative, and political institutionalization of the Palestinian cause remains a noteworthy accomplishment. The application of institutional analysis to the sphere of organized popular struggles, as illustrated by Fatah’s evolutionary process, enhances the understanding of the field, particularly its dynamic dimensions. An abundance of historical and current instances support the observation that in the course of their waged contest for political influence, organizations of popular struggle — both terrorist organizations and social movements — undergo recurrent transformations, and often oscillate between

violent and non-violent action and the associated structural formations. These transformations, which suggest that terrorist organizations and social movements are not inherently distinct organizational and political entities, are not only intellectually cogent; more often than not they also entail direct policy implications. The institutional perspective, which is essentially an interdisciplinary approach dwelling from the historical, sociological, organizational, and political science schools of thought, offers a methodological outline that meets the analytical challenges posed by the multidimensional phenomenon of organized popular struggles. Its core concepts and premises pertain to organizational evolution generally. Thus, particular features — ideological platforms, declared objectives, formation, operational preferences, intra-organizational relationships, availability of financial, human, and political resources, and already accomplished gains — interact dynamically within a framework that encompasses both organizations and movements. The institutional approach offers analytical tools for examining similarities and differences within and between cases, and provides systematic explanations for the nature and timing of the transformations that organized popular struggles time and again undergo in the course oftheir lives.

156

|

Notes

The following notes represent the source material for the text above. Sources were read in their original language. Sources in Arabic were read in English through one of the following services: Hatzav translation, which is the IDF of Arab media sources; and BBC and FBIS, which translate media sources

1 1

in English and Hebrew or Hebrew translation, translation to Hebrew into English.

The Institutional Analysis of Popular Struggles For references to the political implications oftheories of popular struggles see, for example, J. Horton, “Order and Conflict Theories of Social Problems as Competing Ideologies,” The American Journal of Sociology 71, no. 6 (1966): 701-13; W. E. Connolly, “Theoretical Self Consciousness,” Polity 6, no. 1 (1973): 5-35; and S. S. Wolin, “The Politics of the Study of Revolution,” Comparative Politics 5, no. 3 (1973): 343-58. This is of course not the only classification oftheories of political conflict. Another classification can be drawn according to the factors perceived crucial for the crises that generate insurgencies. See, for example, R. Aya, Rethinking Revolutions and Collective Violence: Studies on Concept, Theory and Method (Amsterdam: Het Spinuis, 1990); F. Moshiri, “Revolutionary Conflict Theory in an Evolutionary Perspective,” in J. A. Goldstone, T. R. Gurr, and F. Moshiri (eds.), Revolutions in the Late Twentieth Century (Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 1991), pp. 4-36. Another classification emphasizes theoretical traditions and follows the chronological evolution of the study of social conflict. See, for example, J. A. Goldstone, “Theories of Revolution: The Third Generation,” World Politics 32 (1973): 423-53. J. W. Meyer and B. Rowan, “Institutionalized Organizations: Formal Structures as Myth and Ceremony,” in W. W. Powell and P. J. DiMaggio (eds.), The New Institutionalism in Organizational Analysis (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1991), pp. 41-62; W. R. Scott and J. W. Meyer, “The Organization of Societal Sectors: Propositions and Early Evidence,” in The New Institutionalism in Organizational Analysis, pp. 108-40. S. B. Bacharach and E. J. Lawler, Power and Politics in Organizations: The Social Psychology of Conflict (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass Publishers, 1980); J. Pfeffer and G. R. Salancik, “Organizational Decision Making as a Political Process: The Case of aUniversity Budget,” Administrative Science Quarterly 19 (1974): 135-S1. S. B. Bacharach and E. J. Lawler, “Political Alignments in Organizations: Contextualization, Mobilization, and Coordination,” in R. M. Kramer and M. A. Neale (eds.), Power and Influence in Organizations (London: Sage Publications, 1998), pp. 67-88; M. Crozier, The Bureaucratic Phenomenon (London: Tavistock Publications, 1977); A. Downs, Inside Bureaucracy (Boston: Little, Brown and Company, 1967); M. Weber, The Theory of Social and Economic Organizations (London: The Free Press of Glencoe, 1947); T. E. Drabek, Complex Organizations. A Sociological Perspective (New York: Macmillan,

1977/3): G. H. Snyder and P. Diesing, Conflict Among Nations: Bargaining, Decision Making, and

157

[

Notes to pp. 7-9

System Structure in International Relations (New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1977),

6

7

pp. 340-418. W.R. Scott, Organizations: Rational, Natural and Open Systems (New Jersey: PrenticeHall, 1987), p. 270. G. J. March and J. P. Olsen, “The New Institutionalism: Organizational Factors in

Political Life,” American Political Science Review no. 78 (1984): 734-49; W. R. Scott, “Unpacking Institutional Elements,” in The New Institutionalism in Organizational Analysis, pp. 164-82. 8 The relevant environment was called the societal sector (W. R. Scott and J. W. Meyer, “The Organization of Societal Sectors: Propositions and Early Evidence,” in The New Institutionalism in Organizational Analysis) or the organizational field (P. J. DiMaggio and W. W. Powell, “The Iron Cage Revisited: Institutional Isomorphism and Collective Rationality in Organizational Fields,” The New Institutionalism in Organizational Analysis, pp. 63-82). DiMaggio and Powell listed determinants of institutional isomorphism that operate within the broad context of organizations belonging to an institutionalized environment and their search for legitimacy. They included situational uncertainty, the structural features of the field, and the small variation of forms from which to select. Quite obviously, preferences regarding modeling have been considered to be guided by the perception of success and legitimacy of the modeled organizations. In essence, institutional isomorphism means that organizations, as all elements of a polity or of societal life, seek to institutionalize by becoming an “organized [collective of] established procedure” (R. L. Jefferson, “Institutions, Institutional Effects, and Institutionalism,” in The New Institutionalism in Organizational Analysis, pp. 143-63), that would enhance their external legitimacy and integrate them into their surroundings, thereby “increas[ing] . . . their survival prospects” (Meyer and Rowan, “Institutionalized Organizations,” p. 41). See also A. Selznick, TVA and the Grass Roots: A Study of Sociology of Formal Organization (New York: Harper and Row, 1949). 9 R. Michels, Political Parties (New York: Dover, 1959); Downs, Inside Bureaucracy ; A. Panebianco, Political Parties: Organization and Power (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1988); Weber, Theory of Social and Economic Organizations. 10 See W. R. Scott, Institutions and Organizations (London: Sage Publications, 1995), pp. 33-45. The idea of legitimacy in this context is somewhat different from Weber’s “types of legitimate order.” Weber (Theory of Social and Economic Organizations, pp. 126-30, 324-92) focused on the intra-organizational dimension of legitimacy, and conceived it to be upheld in two principal ways: disinterested and interested. Weber also extensively discussed the meaning of rational, traditional, and charismatic types of legitimate authority. These types of legitimacy were conceived to be modes of exercising “power” and “influence” over members of the organization. While this meaning of legitimacy was not absent from Scott’s discussion, it was presented as a particular angle of a multi-faceted framework of institutional pillars and associated bases of legitimacy. While Scott recognized that the cognitive, normative, and regulative pillars could coexist and interact, he resolved to “unpack . .. their inclusive meaning in order to promote understanding oftheoretical and organizational varieties.” 11 The differentiation among theories on organizations accordin g to their emphases on institutional pillars strikingly resembles Scott’s differentiation among theories according to their perspectives on organizations as rational, natural, or open systems. Thus, the emphasis on the regulative pillar of institutions appears to correspo nd to the perception of organizations as rational systems, the emphasis on the normativ e pillar corresponds to the perception of organizations as natural systems, and the emphasi s on the cognitive pillar by and large corresponds to the perception of organizations as open systems. 12S. B. Bacharach, P. Bambeger, and W. J. Sonnens tuhl, “The Organizational

158

Notes to pp. 9-16

14

15

16

Transformation Process: The Micropolitics of Dissonance Reduction and the Alignment of Logics of Action,” Administrative Science Quarterly 41 (1996): 477-506. The cognitive legitimacy as an institutional pillar is absent within this categorization of bases of legitimacy, yet it was far from overlooked. On the contrary, cognitive legitimacy appears to be integral to the other bases of legitimacy. Scott contended that the cognitive institutional pillar provided guidelines for sense-making and meaningful action, implying that it was relevant to all other pillars. In Bacharach’s conceptualization, the logic of transaction sustains the association between ends and means at all organizational levels of exchange. Hence, this pillar may be regarded as an element of any institutional phase and not a phase in its own right. Scott’s concept of cognitive legitimacy is formally absent within the framework ofthis categorization of bases of legitimacy though not conceptually so. Like Bacharach’s concept of logic of action, the cognitive institutional pillar appears to be integral to the other bases of legitimacy, regulative, normative, and political. To a considerable extent, the study of popular struggles as a manifestation of mass psychosis resulting from social breakdown has been influenced by G. Lebon, The Psychology of Revolutions (New York: Ernest Benn Limited, 1913). See also C. Brinton, The Anatomy of Revolution (Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall, 1965, reprint 1983). M.N. Zald and R. Ash, “Social Movement Organizations: Growth, Decay, and Change,” in J. R. Gusfield (ed.), Protest, Reform, and Revolt:

17 18 19

20

A Reader in Social Movements (New

York: John Wiley & Sons, 1970), pp. 516-37. Downs, Inside Bureaucracy, pp. 5-23. S. Tarrow,

Power

in Movement:

Social

Movements,

Collective

Action,

and

Politics

(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994). In fact, organizations engaged in violence risk provoking harsh responses that might lead to their destruction. On the other hand, organizations that avoid violent friction with the environment face the danger oflosing their cause as the result of the channeling of protest to formal and legal paths of action, D.McAdam, Political Process and the Development of Black Insurgency, 1930-1970 (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1982). Thus, organizations of popular struggle face a twofold dilemma vis-d-vis violent action: while having to avoid fatal confrontations with the environment, they must also be careful not to drift toward a loss of raison d’étre. A similar logic features Jack Levy’s conceptualization of“loss aversion.” Levy, who sought to incorporate behavioral nuances into the general framework of prospect theory (D. Kahneman and A. Tversky, “Prospect Theory: An Analysis of Decisions under Risk,” Econometrica 47 (1979): 263-91), charged that “the bargaining behavior of political leaders is different when the issue is the distribution oflosses from that when the issue is the distribution of gains.” Another premise is that “crisis bargaining behavior is more destabilizing than rational choice theories predict, because political leaders are less likely to make concessions and more likely to gamble and risk huge losses in the hope of eliminating smaller losses altogether.” See J. S. Levy, “Loss Aversion, Framing, and Bargaining: The Implications of Prospect Theory for International Conflict,” in F. P. Harvey and B. D. Mor (eds.), Conflict in World Politics: Advances in the Study of Crisis, War and Peace (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1997), pp. 96-115.

2

Fatah’s Struggle for Institutionalization

1 2

E. W. Said, The Question of Palestine (London: Vintage, 1992), p. 157. A. L. George, “Case Studies and Theory Development: The Method of Structured, Focused Comparison,” in P. G. Lauren (ed.), Diplomacy. New Approaches in History, Theory, and Policy (London: The Free Press, 1979), pp. 43-70; A. L. George and T. J.

159

Notes to pp. 16-24

McKeon,

“Case Studies and Theories of Organizational Decisionmaking,” Advances in

Information Processing in Organizations 2 (1985): 21-58. “The name was chosen in ’58. I named it,” recounted Yasir Arafat. Explaining the meaning of the name, he said that “Fatah means to open the gates for the glory... Fatah means something glorious for a person, for a group, for a country, for a nation, for everything.” See J. Wallach and J. Wallach, Arafat in the Eyes of the Beholder (Secaucus, NJ: Carol Publishing Group, 1997), pp. 105-6; M. Hudson, “The Palestinian Arab Resistance Movement: Its Significance in the Middle East Crisis,” The Middle East Journal 23, no. 3 (1969): 291-307.

3

The First Institutional Phase, 1959-1965: Regulative Formation Abu lyad, with E. Rouleau, My Home My Land: A Narrative of the Palestinian Struggle (New York: Times Books, 1981). See also H. Cobban, The Palestinian Liberation Organization: People, Power and Politics (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1987), pp. 21-35; A. Gowers and T. Walker, Yasser Arafat and the Palestinian Revolution (London: Corgi Books, 1990), pp. 35-36; E. Yaari, Strike Terror: The History of Fatah (New York: Sabra, 1970), pp. 26-55. A. Hourani, A History of the Arab Peoples (London: Faber and Faber, 1991), pp. 401-10; A. Sela, The Decline of the Arab-Israeli Conflict: Middle East Politics and the Quest for Regional Order (New York: State University of New York Press, 1998), pp. 3-30, 36-41. The number of Palestinian Arabs evicted following the termination of the British Mandate

in Palestine and over the course of the 1948 war is hotly disputed. According to some reports, approximately 70 percent of the Arab population of Palestine was displaced and moved across the borders of the newly declared State of Israel. While Israeli sources place the number of displaced Palestinians at about 500,000, Arab sources claim that the actual number is closer to 900,000. United Nations reports give the figure of 726,000. About 160,000-170,000 Palestinian Arabs remained under the rule of Israel. See J. W. Amos,

Palestinian Resistance:

Organization of a Nationalist Movement

(New York: Pergamon

Press, 1980), pp. 7-10; M. Efrat, The Palestinian Refugees: The Dynamics of Economic Integration in their Host Countries (Jerusalem: Israeli International Institute for Applied Economic Policy Review, A Discussion Paper, September 1993): C. Erskin, “The Other

Exodus,” in W. Laqueur and B. Rubin (eds.), The Israel-Arab Reader: A Documentary History of the Middle East Conflict (New Y ork: Penguin Books, 1984), pp. 143-51; S. Gazit, The Palestinian Refugee Problem, Final Status Issues: Israel—Palestinians, Study no. 2 (Tel Aviv: Jaffee Center for Strategic Studies at Tel Aviv University, 1995) [Hebrew]; B. Kimmerling and J. S. Migdal, Palestinians: The Making ofa People (Jerusalem: Keter, 1999), pp. 134-41, 170 [Hebrew]; Y. Sayigh, Armed Struggle and the Search for State: The

Palestinian National Movement,

1949-1994 (New York: Oxford University Press and the

Institute for Palestine Studies, 1997), pp. 37-46: A. Shugqairy, “The Palestine Refugees,” in The Israel-Arab Reader, pp. 140-43. Said, The Question of Palestine, pp. 130-31. E. Chalala, “Arab Nationalism: A Bibliographic Essay,” in T. E. Farah (ed.), Pan Arabism

and Arab Nationalism: The C.ontinuing Debate (Boulder,

CO and London: Westview Press,

1987), pp. 18-56. See also W. B. Quandt, “Political and Military Dimensions of Contemporary Palestinian Nationalism,” in W. B. Quandt, F. Jabber, and A. M. Lesch, The Politics of Palestinian Nationalism (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1973), pp. 43-153; S. Reiser, “Islam, Pan Arabism and Palestine: An Attitudin al Survey,” in Pan Arabism and Arab Nationalism, pp. 85-95; E. Sahliyeh, “The PLO and the Politics of

Ethnonational Mobilization,” in A. Sela and M. Ma’oz (eds.), The PLO and Israel: From Armed Conflict to Political Solution, 1964-1994 (NY: St. Martin’s Press, 1997), pp. 3-22.

160

Notes to pp. 24-29

Oo

Y. Sayigh,

“Reconstructing

the Paradox:

The

Arab

Nationalist

Movement,

Armed

Struggle, and Palestine, 1951-1966,” Middle East Journal 45, no. 4 (1991): 608-29.

A. Sela, The Palestinian Ba'ath: The Arab Socialist Ba'ath Party in the West Bank under Jordan (1948-1967) (Jerusalem: The Magnes Press, 1984) [Hebrew].

10

11 12

E. Podeh, The Quest for Hegemony in the Arab World: The Struggle over the Baghdad Pact (Tel Aviv: Ministry of Defense Publishing House, 1996) [Hebrew]. In 1968, Yehoshafat Harkabi noted that “the entry of the Arab armies into the war in 1948 transformed the dispute over Palestine from an intra-state conflict into an inter-state war. The activities surrounding the setting up of the PLO and thefedayeen organizations signify in some respects an attempt to revert to the previous state of affairs,” Fedayeen Action and Arab Strategy, Adelphi Paper no. 53 (London: Institute for Strategic Studies, December 1968), reprinted in The Israel-Arab Reader, pp. 383-99. While Harkabi was correct concerning the changing context of the Palestinian issue, he apparently mixed the motivations that were underlying the establishment of the PLO with those that generated Fatah and other fedayeen organizations. Fatah, like most other Palestinian organizations, demonstrated growing Palestinian inclination towards independent, sub-state action. See also G. Ben Dor, “Nationalism without Sovereignty and Nationalism with Multiple Sovereignties: The Palestinians and Inter-Arab Relations,” in G. Ben Dor (ed.), The Palestinians and the Middle East Conflict, an International Conference Held at the Institute for Middle Eastern Studies (Haifa: University of Haifa, Turtledove Publishing, 1979), p. 143. “The actual idea of forming Fateh was a result of the war,” Sayigh, p. 83. See also B. Stanley, “Fragmentation and National Liberation Movements: The PLO,” Orbis 22, no. 4 (1979): 1033-35. M. Golani, There Will Be War Next Summer

...

The Road to the Sinai War, 1955-1956

(Tel Aviv: Ministry of Defense Publishing House, 1997), p. 106 [Hebrew]. M. Bar On, The Gates of Gaza: Israel’s Defense and Foreign Policy 1955-1957 (Tel Aviv: Am Oved, 1991), pp. 13-27, 188-221 [Hebrew]; R. St. John, The Boss: The Story of Gamal Abdel Nasser (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1961), pp. 203-22; K. Wheelock, Nasser’s New Egypt: A Critical Analysis (London: Atlantic Books, 1960), pp. 228-31.

13

G. Golan, “The Soviet Union and the Suez Crisis,” in S. I. Troen and M. Shemesh (eds.),

19 20

The Suez-Sinai Crisis, 1956: Retrospective and Reappraisal (London: Frank Cass, 1990), pp. 274-86; E. Kyle, Suez (London: Weidenfield and Nicolson, 1991), pp. 446-76. Between 1,000 and 3,000 Egyptian soldiers were killed in the war and 5,600 captured, while 171 Israeli soldiers were killed and one captured, Wheelock, Nasser’s New Egypt, p. 246. See also M. Shemesh, “Egypt: From Military Defeat to Political Victory,” in The SuezSinai Crisis, 1956, pp. 150-61. The outcome of the Sinai War marked the shift in US Middle East policies, and initiated an incremental rapprochement between Washington and Jerusalem, culminating years later in a strategic alliance between them. See A. Ben-Zvi, Decade of Transition: Eisenhower, Kennedy and the Origins of the American-Israeli Alliance (New Y ork: Columbia University Press, 1998). The formation of the UAR provided only temporary relief in the tensions between Syria and Egypt and their contest for regional influence. It was dismantled in 1961. The direct context for Egypt’s intention to create a Palestinian organization was the rivalry between Egypt and Iraq; both were striving to instigate a Palestinian rebellion by the Palestinian refugees living under Jordanian rule against the monarchy. See Yaari, Strike Terror, pp. 26—SS. Arafat was reportedly deported on the grounds of his long time connections with the Muslim Brotherhood, Amos, Palestinian Resistance, p. 49. Quoted in Gowers and Walker, Yasser Arafat and the Palestinian Revolution, p. 31. According to Abu Iyad (My Home, My Land, pp. 19-20), the Union grouped together

161

Notes to pp. 30-36 Palestinian

students

of various

political

inclinations

| —

members

of the

Muslim

Brotherhood, Communists, Ba’athists, Arab Nationalists (ANM), and “others.” Abu lyad, My Home, My Land, pp. 29-31. By 1963, the International Union headed by Hasan numbered about 3,000 students and 5,000 workers, Wallach and Wallach, Arafat in the Eyes of the Beholder, p. 108. The term armed struggle refers to the diverse modes of violent struggle employed by nonstate forces, including terrorism, guerrilla warfare, and insurgency. Abu lyad, My Home, My Land, pp. 35, 29. According to Sayigh, “Revolution was not [perceived to be] the outcome of a particular political ideology or social philosophy, but an expression of independent will, a proof of existence. The mere fact that Palestinians acted and organized was a positive assertion and an aim in itself” (Armed Struggle and the Search for State, p. 91). Harkabi, Fedayeen Action and Arab Strategy. Amos, Palestinian Resistance, p 56.

30 Sl

Be

E. Sahliyeh, “The Armed Struggle and Palestinian Nationalism,” in The PLO and Israel: From Armed Conflict to Political Solution, 1964-1994, pp. 23-35. Other sources of influence mentioned by Abu Iyad (My Home, My Land, pp. 35-36) included the revolutionary doctrines of Lenin, Hegel, Marx, Sayyidd Qutb (the ideologist of the Muslim Brotherhood), Che Guevara, and Mao Tse Tung. See also Harkabi, Fedayeen Action and Arab Strategy. Abu lyad, My Home, My Land, pp. 35-36. This summary of Fatah’s staged doctrine goes beyond the general framework that was publicized in its phase of regulative formation, and encompasses alterations that were made during the 1960s, in response to situational demands. Harkabi, Fedayeen Action and Arab Strategy, pp. 392-93. : Wallach and Wallach, Arafat in the Eyes of the Beholder, pp. 108-9 noted that “the differences in tactics almost destroyed the group. Anxious to stop the ‘mad current’ from acting

impetuously, Khaled al-Hasan blocked the flow of funds to them. But his brother Hani,

33 34

4

with access to enormous amounts of money from his European members, soon became the financial backer of Fatah.” Harkabi, Fedayeen Action and Arab Strategy, pp. 396-99, quoting critical articles that were published in Filastinuna in 1962. Yaari, Strike Terror, pp. 53-54.

The Second Institutional Phase, 1965-1967: Coming to the Surface The Palestine Liberation Front (PLF), headed by Ahmed Jibril, joined Fatah sometime later. In 1967, Jibril split from Fatah and joined George Habash’s Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine (PFLP), which had itself been an organizational transformation of the ANM. In 1968, Jibril left the PFLP and established his own organizat ion — the PFLP

~ General Command

(PFLP-GC).

Yaari, Strike Terror, pp. 38-44. The case ofthe Palestinian Student Union and particularly the failure of the Union’s Revolutionary Front clearly resembles the abortive attempts of the ANM’s Palestinian branch to organize for independent action. Ahmed Shugqairy, a lawyer and diplomat of Palestinian origin, had formerly represented Syria and Saudi Arabia in the UN and was a devoted Nasserite . See E. O’Ballance, Arab Guerrilla Power 1967-1973 (London: Faber and Faber, 1974), p. 23; Sayigh, Armed Struggle and the Search for State, pp. 94-100. On the role of the project in intensifying the Israeli-Arab tension as well as inter-Arab contest for regional dominance, see Sela, The Decline of the Arab-Israeli Conflict, pp.

162

Notes to pp. 36-38 57-64. For the Syrian perspective, see: Z. Maoz, Paradoxes of War: On the Art of National Self-Entrapment (Boston: Unwin Hyman, 1990). See A. Sela, Unity within Conflict in the Inter-Arab System: The Arab Summit Conferences, 1964-1982 (Jerusalem: The Magnes Press, Hebrew University, 1982), pp. 26-37 [Hebrew]. See also M. N. Barnett, Dialogues in Arab Politics: Negotiations in Regional Order (New

York: Columbia University Press, 1997), pp. 146-47; M. Shemesh, “Egypt’s Commitment to the Palestinian Cause,” The Jerusalem Quarterly 34 (1985): 16-30. S. K. Farsoun, with C. E. Zacharia, Palestine and the Palestinians (Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 1997), pp. 176-80; A. Sela (ed.), The Continuum Political Encyclopedia of the Middle East (New York and London: Continuum, 2002), pp. 689-90; M. E. Selim, “The Survival of aNon-state Actor: The Foreign Policy ofthe Palestine Liberation Organization,” in B. Korany and A. E. H. Dessouki (eds.), The Foreign Policies of Arab States (Boulder, CO: Westview Press, and Cairo: The American University in Cairo Press, 1984), pp. 197-240. The Draft Constitution of the “Palestine Liberation Organization,” in The Israel—Arab Reader, pp. 131-34, article 14, article 21. The Israel-Arab Reader, p. 134.

10

1]

The incorporation of Palestinian-related issues into the framework of the regional politics and power struggle was manifested, inter alia, by the establishment by Arab regimes, particularly Egypt and Iraq, of Palestinian units within the framework of national armies. These units of the Palestinian Liberation Army acted under strict rules that did not permit initiation of any anti-Israeli action and on the whole lacked any operative significance. In this light, they primarily formed a manifestation of Arab states’ wish to subjugate the issue of Palestine to their own political agendas. Apparently, establishment of these units was designed to preempt any potential Palestinian attempts to resort to independent action. In the advent of the constitution of the PLO, the PLA was articulated as the PLO’s military arm, which would operate under the command of Arab conventional armies. It was concluded that the PLA, like the PLO itself, would be funded by Iraq, Kuwait, Libya, and Saudi Arabia. It was also concluded that PLA units would be formed in Syria, Iraq, and the Gaza Strip (then under Egyptian rule). The first commander of thePLA was Lieutenant Colonel Wajih al-Madani — a Palestinian officer in the Syrian army. See Sela, The Decline of the Arab-Israeli Conflict, pp. 50-54, 69; Sayigh, Armed Struggle and the Search for State, pp. 112-19; Quandt, “Political and Military Dimensions of Contemporary Palestinian Nationalism,” pp. 43-153. On the second Arab summit, see: Sela, Unity within Conflict in the Inter-Arab System, pp. 38-49. Khalaf’s perception of the PLA (My Home, My Land, pp. 42-43) was only partly true. By 1966 the PLA already numbered between 400-600 combatants. Still, the force was placed entirely under the control of the Arab regimes of Syria, Egypt, Iraq, Jordan, and Lebanon. According to Sayigh, Armed Struggle and the Search for State, pp. 107-8, a week earlier, a unit had been set up to carry out an attack inside Israel on December 31, 1964, and was arrested in Gaza by Egyptian security forces. The arrest aborted Fatah’s intended first operation. Another group that was supported by Syrian security figures was Jibril’s PLF. Fatah and the PLF competed over Syrian aid and over propaganda gains. Since the outset, however, Fatah’s operational successes and mobilization power overshadowed those of the PLF. See Wallach and Wallach, Arafat in the Eyes of the Beholder, pp. 189-90; and Yaari, Strike Terror, pp. 81-105. O’Ballance, Arab Guerrilla Power 1967-1973, p. 29, quoting Israeli sources. According to Wallach and Wallach, Arafat in the Eyes of the Beholder, pp. 121-26, “During the months of January—February and March 1965, . . . [the guerrillas] carried out ten sabotage operations, seven from the Jordanian-administered West Bank or across the river from the East

163

Notes to pp. 38-42

Bank of Jordan, and three from across the Egyptian-held Gaza Strip. Twice the Israelis discovered and dismantled explosives set by the Fatah Fedayeen from Gaza; but .. . a third bomb exploded, killing seven Israelis patrolling the area. The Israeli government responded with warnings delivered to the UN Armistice Committee, but it had little effect. By the end of 1965, the Palestinian Arabs had carried out thirty five . . . operations, 28 launched from

14 1

the West Bank and Jordan, four from Gaza, three from Lebanon. ... During the summer of 1966, fifteen... attacks took place in Israel, most of them emanating from the... West Bank.” In the first half of 1967, “the attacks continue[d] at almost double the rate of the year before.” Sayigh, Armed Struggle and the Search for State, pp. 120-29. Z. Schiff and R. Rothstein, Fedayeen: The Story of the Palestinian Guerrillas (London: Vallentine Mitchell, 1972), pp. 150-75.

16

17

18 19 20

21

Sayigh, Armed Struggle and the Search for State, pp. 108-37; Yaari, Strike Terror, pp. 81-105. Concomitantly, a crisis erupted between the ANM and the Jordanian authorities, as well as with the Egyptian regime. In both cases, the movement was accused of instigating political unrest, which resulted in the growing preoccupation by the movement’s leadership in Palestinian matters. The movement also conformed to the emerging popular support for the armed struggle. While criticizing Fatah for resorting to violence without preparing the ground for an all-Arab campaign against Israel, it praised the raids carried out by al-Asifa. This twofold policy regarding Fatah, which was accompanied by criticism against Nasser for postponing the direct confrontation with Israel, was testimony to ongoing ideological and strategic debates inside the ANM. For a detailed account of PLO-Jordan relations in the pre-1967 years, see A. Susser, On Both Banks of the Jordan: A Political Biography of Wasfi al-Tall (Essex: Frank Cass. 1994), pp. 70-123. : Abu Iyad, My Home, My Land, p. 44. On the deliberations of the summit in Casablanca, see Sela, Unity within Conflict in the Inter-Arab System, pp. 50-63. Asad’s road to power featured conflict between the ideological and military leaderships of the Ba’ath Party. In 1964, he was appointed commander of the air force. In this capacity, he provided Palestinian organizations access to some of the ammunition under his control. In February 1966, following the removal of the ideological-civilian leadership of the Ba’ath party and takeover of power by army officers, Asad rose to the position of defense minister. Another coup, which took place in November 1970, brought Asad to the presidency. See P. Seale, Asad: The Struggle for the Middle East (Berkeley: University of California Press,

1988); E. Zisser, Asad’s Syria at a Crossroads (Tel Aviv: Hakibbutz Hameuhad, 1999) [Hebrew]. See also Abu lyad, My Home, My Land, pp. 4546. Regarding the Palestinian guerrillas though without mentioning Fatah, Nasser declared that if “the Palestinian people and the Palestinian entity are organized, they have the right to fight for their country. Naturally there will be loss of life, but it is clear to the whole world that the Palestinian people are determined to insist on their rights, and to shed their blood on behalf of those rights.” A/-Ahram, February 4 1967, quoted by F. Jabber, “The

Palestinian Resistance and Inter-Arab Politics,” in The Politics of Palestinian Nationalism,

22

pile The Ba’ath regime was highly suspicious of Fatah, due to the organizat ion’s historical relations to the Muslim Brotherhood. In the first half of the 1960s conflicts arose due to the organization’s refusal to make changes in its leadership according to Syrian demands or accept Syrian control. See Sayigh, Armed Struggle and the Search for State, pp. 123-32: Wallach and Wallach, Arafat in the Eyes of the Beholder, pp. 190-97. The opening of the Fatah office in Algiers was authorized by Ahmed Ben Bella, Algeria’s first president after independence. Ben Bella, who was political ly associated with Nasser,

164

Notes to pp. 42-48 refused material support for the organization. His successor, Huari Boumedienne, who came to power in 1965, sent Fatah its first arms shipments. See Abu Iyad, My Home, My Land, p. 42; Jabber, “The Palestinian Resistance and Inter-Arab Politics”; Yaari, Strike Terror, pp. 81-105.

At about the same period, Beijing resolved to boycott Israel. See Sayigh, Armed Struggle and the Search for State, p. 103. Cobban, The Palestinian Liberation Organization, p. 32. For analysis of the belated reaction, see Yaari, Strike Terror, pp. 97-98. Wallach and Wallach, Arafat in the Eyes ofthe Beholder, p. 120.

The Third Institutional Phase, 1967-1968: Violent Mobilization in Action

The Israel—Arab Reader, pp. 168-89. Jabber, “The Palestinian Resistance and Inter-Arab Politics.” Among them were the PLF, Heroes of Vengeance, and Heroes of Return, the latter having originated from within the ranks of theANM. Selim, “The Survival of a Non-state Actor.” According to Abu lyad (My Home, My Land, p. 57), “During the first months following the 1967 war, we were the only ones braving the enemy with arms in hand. The other Palestinian organizations, including those which were to form the ‘Rejection Front’ a few years later, had not yet appeared on the scene or at least hadn’t yet decided to wage armed struggle. Fatah was much better prepared than they to launch guerrilla activities on short notice. In addition to the experience acquired since our first operation on December 31, 1964, we enjoyed logistical support from Syria and Algeria.” Article 9 of the Palestinian National Covenant, which was adopted in July 1968, The Israel—Arab Reader, pp. 366-72. In June 1967, the population in the territories numbered about one million people, about 600,000 of them in the West Bank, and 350,000—400,000 in the Gaza Strip.

10

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13

Y. Harkabi, The Arab Position in their Conflict with Israel (Yel Aviv: Dvir, 1968), p. 24 [Hebrew]; The Israel-Arab Reader, pp. 189-94; O’Ballance, Arab Guerrilla Power 1967-1973, pp. 35-36. On the deliberations at the summit see: Sela, Unity within Conflict in the Inter-Arab System, pp. 64-80. See Security Council Resolution on the Middle East (November 22 1967), in The Israel-Arab Reader, pp. 362-63. The resolution emphasized need for “termination of all claims or states of belligerency and respect for the acknowledgement of the sovereignty, territorial integrity and political independence of every state in the area and their right to live in peace within secure and recognized boundaries free from threats or acts of force.” Concerning the Palestinian issue, the resolution required “achieving a just settlement ofthe refugee problem.” Palestinian organizations, as a whole, rejected the resolution. Concurrently, it became an Israeli and American precondition for a negotiated settlement to the Middle East conflict. See also S. Mishal, The PLO under Arafat: Between Gun and Olive Branch (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1986), pp. 68-69. Abu lyad, My Home, My Land, pp. 53-SS. Reportedly (Yaari, Strike Terror, p. 137), thirteen sabotage operations were recorded in September, ten in October, and twenty in December. Other organizations that were active in the arena were Jibril’s Palestine Liberation Front, and the Heroes of Return. Towards the end ofthe year the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine was born. This organization, which was led by George Habash, attempted to establish its own operative infrastructure. Abu lyad, My Home, My Land, p. 56; Yaari, Strike Terror, pp. 123-50.

165

Notes to pp. 48-52 Between June 1967 and the end of 1969, over 7,000 homes were reported either confiscated or demolished in the territories, rendering 50,000 people homeless. In the same period, several hundred prominent figures were deported from the territories. See H. Sharabi, Palestine Guerrillas: Their Credibility and Effectiveness (Washington DC: Georgetown University, 1970). S. Gazit, Trapped: Thirty Years of Israel's Policy in the Territories (Tel Aviv: Zmora-Bitan, 1999), pp. 44-78 [Hebrew]; A. Gresh, The PLO: The Struggle Within (London: Zed Press,

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Ao

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1983, rev. ed., 1988), pp. 66-68; B. E. O’Neill, Armed Struggle in Palestine, A Political Military Analysis (Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 1978), pp. 45-75; M. Ma’oz, Palestinian Leadership on the West Bank (Tel Aviv: Reshafim, 1985) [Hebrew]. E. W. Said, The Politics of Dispossession: The Struggle for Palestinian Self-Determination 1969-1994 (London: Vintage, 1995), pp. 2-23. “Propaganda by the deed” means the presumably mobilizing effect of insurgent violence. This logic of struggle from below has been traced back to the late nineteenth century and the origin of modern terrorism. See W. Laqueur, The Age of Terrorism (London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1987), pp. 24-71. Article 5 of Fatah’s “Seven Points” resolution, which was passed by the Central Committee of the organization on January 1969 read: “al Fatah... solemnly proclaims that the final objective of its struggle is the restoration of the independent, democratic State of Palestine. all of whose citizens will enjoy equal rights irrespective of their religion.” See The Israel-Arab Reader, pp. 372-73. The PFLP, constituted in December 1967, was the merger of two groups that originated in ANM: the Heroes of Return and the Youths of the Revenge, both of them created by George Habash. See O'Neill, Armed Struggle in Palestine, pp. 129-31; Sayigh, Armed Struggle and the Search for State, pp. 196-202; M. Steinberg, “The Worldview of Habash’s PFLP,” The Jerusalem Quarterly 47 (1988): 3-26; M. Steinberg, “The Worldview of Hawatma’s DFLP,” The Jerusalem Quarterly 50 (1989): 23-40: Yaari, Strike Terror, pp.

215-20. The term “sponsored” is somewhat misleading, since all Palestinian organizati ons were state-sponsored to a certain degree. Some of them, however (e.g., S@iga or the Arab Liberation Front), were not just sponsored, but altogether controlled by one Arab regime or another. Sa’iga (originally the Vanguards of Popular Liberation War Organizati on — Thunderbolt Forces) was created in 1968, when two small groups, Palestine Popular Liberation Front and Vanguards of Popular Liberation War Organization, merged under Syrian initiative. The ALF was created in November 1969 by the Iraqi Ba’ath regime. Palestinians comprise the majority of Jordan’s population. Throughout the years, relations between citizens of Palestinian and Transjordanian ancestry have featured ups and downs yet were overall quite manageable, since many of the Palestinians felt comfortable with their political attachment to the country. However, a core of inter-com munal conflict existed among the large group of Palestinian refugees from 1948 and 1967, who shared strong national sentiments and solidarity. This solidarity was occasional ly transformed into opposition to Jordanian identity and rule. The monarchy persistentl y fought those political trends that might enhance the Palestinization of the population, as regarding the establishment of the PLO. In April 1968 King Hussein visited Washington, where he declared his wish to reach a negotiated settlement, portraying a six-point peace plan and acknowl edging that Israel was there to stay.

PI)

The courses regularly lasted for two or three weeks. About 150 men underwent training in each camp at a time. Trainees aged between 15 to 45 years. According to Sharabi (Palestine Guerrillas, pp. 21-22), until the end of 1969, Fatah and other smaller organizations, may have trained between them about 30,000—50,000 men.

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Notes to pp. 52-56

24

The scope and volume of the organizational presence on Jordanian soil were clearly reflected in statistical accounts of the violent course of action and its resultant casualties. According to Yaari (Strike Terror, pp. 367-71), from the end of the June war until the end of 1968, 1,767 attacks were launched from Jordan, fifty-six from Lebanon, and eighty-two from the Golan Heights. In 1969, 6,587 assaults were carried out from Jordan, 184 from

Lebanon, and 346 from the Golan. During the period from June to December 1967, eightyseven Palestinian operatives were killed in military action, fifty-two of them in the West Bank, two in the Gaza Strip, and nine along the Jordanian front. In 1968, 681 operatives were killed, 501 along the Jordanian front and twenty-five in the West Bank. The following year, 586 operatives were killed in military action, 293 along the Jordanian front, twentytwo in the West Bank and thirty-two in the Gaza Strip. During the period from January to March 1979, 1,474 operatives were killed, 100 of them in the West Bank, sixty-two in the Gaza Strip, and 873 along the Jordanian front. Notably, Fatah suffered more casualties than all other organizations put together, corresponding to its greater share in military action. During the period June 1967—March 1970, Fatah suffered 775 casualties, Sa’iqa lost 101 operatives, the PLF lost 128 operatives, and the PFLP lost 122 operatives. See also Sharabi, Palestine Guerrillas, pp. 22-23; H. Alon, Countering Palestinian Terrorism in Israel: Toward a Policy Analysis of Countermeasures (Santa Monica, California: Rand Corporation, 1980), pp. 46-47. According to O'Neill, Armed Struggle in Palestine, p. 87, in 1967 there were ninety-seven incidents along the Jordanian border, resulting in thirtyeight casualties. In 1968 there were 916 incidents, resulting in 273 Israeli casualties. In 1969 the figures rose to 2,422 incidents and 243 Israeli casualties, and in 1970 (until August) there were 1,887 incidents, resulting in eleven Israeli casualties. In 1971, only forty-five incidents

were recorded, which included no Israeli casualties. As to inconsistencies among the various statistical accounts, in several cases, records referred to the overall accounts of cross-border activity, including artillery shelling and infiltrations. In other cases, records referred to cross-border raids only. As to reports supplied by the resistance organizations themselves, they were often remarkably exaggerated (Sayigh, Armed Struggle and the Search for State, p. 204).

6 1

The Fourth Institutional Phase, 1968-1970: Regulative Challenges According to Susser (On Both Banks of the Jordan, p. 133), about ninety fedayeen and some 100 Jordanian soldiers were killed in the battle; twenty-eight Israeli soldiers were killed. The failure of the uprising in the occupied territories did not put an end to Fatah’s violent campaign there and in Israel per se. These operations were largely directed and conducted by operatives who crossed the border. According to Yaari (Strike Terror, pp. 380-81), until the end of 1969 about 1,350 assaults were carried out in these areas, most of them in the

Gaza Strip. Until the end of 1969, twenty-four Israelis were killed in the Gaza Strip and 156 wounded. In the West Bank, thirteen Arabs were killed and sixty-two wounded, and nine Israelis were killed and 113 wounded. In Israel proper thirty were killed and 256 wounded. See also L. A. Sobel, Palestinian Impasse: Arab Guerrillas and International Terror (New York: Facts on File, 1977), pp. 27-35. Reportedly (Sharabi, Palestine Guerrillas, p. 23), arms included automatic rifles, mortars,

and rockets, and activity increased from thirty incidents a month during the period of Karamah to over thirty a day in the early days of 1970, Yaari, Strike Terror, pp. 357-62. Amos, Palestinian Resistance, pp. 56-58; Wallach and Wallach, Arafat in the Eyes of the Beholder, p. 280. Training was conducted in Syria, Algeria, and Jordan, Sayigh, Armed Struggle and the Search for State, p. 183.

A similar structure was adopted by other factions, including the PFLP and Sa’iga. See

167

Notes to pp. 56-61

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Sayigh, Armed Struggle and the Search for State, pp. 181-82; G. Chaliand, The Palestinian Resistance (Harmondsworth: Penguin Books, 1972).

Amos, Palestinian Resistance, p. 60. In September 1968 the PLO established the “Palestine Liberation Forces,” thus adding a guerrilla formation to the framework of the PLO. The forces were positioned in the Jordan Valley. However, the plan to initiate guerrilla activity challenged Arab control over the organization and generated a rift within the PLA itself. Syria particularly opposed the move, and sent forces to seize PLA positions in Jerash, Jordan. Consequently, plans to activate the PLF were cancelled. See O'Neill, Armed Struggle in Palestine, pp. 127-28; Sayigh, Armed Struggle and the Search for State, pp. 177-96. Abu lyad, Home, My Land, p. 65. PLO representatives did not attend the conference. Also absent was the PFLP, which opposed Fatah’s claim to domination. The participants established a “Permanent Bureau” for coordination of the armed struggle. The Bureau had no operational significance, yet it was perceived to be a challenge to the PLO. See Abu lyad, My Home, My Land, pp. 64-65; Susser, On Both Banks of the Jordan, p. 133. Y. Harkabi, The Palestinian Covenant and its Meaning (Jerusalem, 1974) [Hebrew]; The Israel-Arab Reader, pp. 366-72. Tension over policy and over the allocation of leadership positions generated a split within the PFLP, resulting in two groups splitting off as independent organizations: Hawatmeh’s DFLP, and Jibril’s PFLP-GC. Gresh, The PLO, pp. 34-37. For a detailed analysis of the inter-Arab rifts at the backdrop ofthe convening of the Rabat summit, see Sela, The Decline of the Arab-Israeli Conflict, pp.14—25. For an account of the deliberations held at the summit, see Sela, Unity within Conflict in the Inter-Arab System, pp. 81-97. i) The collection brought between 50 and 60 million riyals a year to the Palestinian movement. Generous sums were also donated by wealthy Libyan and Kuwaiti constituent s. See Cobban, The Palestinian Liberation Organization, p. 45; Abu lyad, My Home, My Land, pp. 61-64. Quite naturally, the decision made by Arab financiers to channel the money to the occupied territories via the PLO was met by opposition on the part of King Hussein. See Sela, The Decline of the Arab-Israeli C onflict, p. 128. Abu lyad, My Home, My Land, pp. 65-72: Shemesh, “Egypt’s Commitme nt to the Palestinian Cause.” O'Neill, Armed Struggle in Palestine, pp. 131-34. Abu lyad, My Home, My Land, pp. 76-77. According to Susser (On Both Banks of the Jordan, pp. 134, 172), opponent s of the resistance organizations in the Jordanian establishment created their own fedayeen organization, attempting to “provoke and antagonize the populatio n, so as to discredit” the resistance. A prominent opponent of the resistance was Wasfi al-Tall, an “exemplary representative of ‘the Jordanian entity’ and the Trans-Jordanian elite,” who was prime minister during the years 1965-71. On November 28. 1971, Tall was assassinated in Cairo by Fatah/Black September. O'Neill, Armed Struggle in Palestine, p. 138. Abu lyad, My Home, My Land, pp. 73-77. NN bY©} Ww = The plan, which constituted a joint US-USSR working paper, was issued on October 28. 1969. See W. B. Quandt, Peace Process: American Diplomacy and the Arab-Israeli Conflict Since 1967 (Washington, DC: Brookings Institution, 1993), pp. 437-40. Ironically, the aftermath of the ceasefire was utilized by Egypt for the military buildup that later supported its underlying strategy in the war of October 1973 — to upset the regional status quo. i)LoS) Previous initiatives for an Israeli-Egyptian and IsraeliJordanian settlement, which had

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Notes to p. 61

been issued by the American administration before the convening of the Rabat summit (December 1969) and were actually designated to mitigate the summit’s resolutions, were rejected by Egypt, Jordan, and Israel. Basically, the Arab states insisted on a comprehensive settlement, to be achieved by an Israeli withdrawal from the territories occupied in 1967. Israel, for its part, conditioned any change in the status quo on peace agreements that would be reached through direct negotiations with Arab governments. See Barnett, “Studying Security Communities in Theory, Comparison and History,” pp. 175-76; H. Kissinger, White House Years (Boston and Toronto: Little, Brown and Company, 1979), pp. 341-79. Elaborating upon the linkage among different cores of conflict, Abraham BenZvi maintained that “Rogers was convinced that negotiations with the Soviet Union and countries aligned with the Kremlin could well lead to accommodation and the amelioration of international tension, and so embarked upon a major initiative — the Rogers Plan, in which the United States sought an agreement on general principles with the Soviets for comprehensively settling the dispute.” On this issue, and more on the superpower competition and mitigating variants as they unfolded in the Middle East since 1967, see A. BenZvi, The American Approach to Superpower Collaboration in the Middle East, 1973-1986, JCSS Study no. 5 (Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 1986), pp. 19-27. See also W. B. Quandt,

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Decade of Decisions: American Policy towards the Arab-Israeli Conflict, 1967-1976 (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1977), pp. 72-104; Sayigh, Armed Struggle and the Search for State, pp. 262-64. The PFLP resorted to international terrorism in 1968, in line with its belief that violent confrontation with Israel and other political actors was acceptable in any location where an attack could feasibly be executed. This course of action was never intended to replace the struggle inside Israel, rather to establish alternative arenas to Israeli-ruled territory, where possibilities for action were rather constrained. International terrorism was also meant to offer operational compensation for the limited ability to escalate the struggle from Arab countries. Obviously, this doctrinal and operational line contradicted Fatah’s advocacy of guerrilla and people’s war. The PFLP initiated its international campaign in July 1968, with the hijacking to Algeria of an El Al plan en route from Rome to Tel Aviv (in retaliation for which, Israel bombed thirteen airliners on the ground in the Beirut airport). In the following years, the organization remained the prominent actor in this sphere, and was institutionalized as a source ofinspiration for others. Until the expulsion of the resistance from Jordan following the crisis of September 1970, the PFLP, as well as the DFLP, confined their attacks to Israeli and Jewish targets. Later, these organizations and others that joined the arena of international terrorism also began attacking Arab and Western objectives. Throughout the years, however, targets that had some association with Israel remained the most common. On operational trends and political relevance of the international sphere of Palestinian armed struggle, see A. Merari and S. Elad, The International Dimension of Palestinian Terrorism, JCSS Study no. 6 (Tel Aviv: Jaffee Center for Strategic Studies at Tel Aviv University, 1986). Brigadier Muhammad Da’ud, a Palestinian, was nominated head of the military government. However, authority remained in the hands of the king and several associated in the military and political elite, including Wasfi al-Tall, an avowed enemy of the Palestinian presence. See Barnett, “Studying Security Communities in Theory, Comparison and History,” pp. 177-81. Civilian governance was restored in the country on September 26, shortly after the signing of the agreement with the PLO. Again, a Palestinian was nominated prime minister, in an effort to convince Jordan’s largely Palestinian populace that hostilities had been directed against the resistance organizations only. A month later the government resigned, and Hussein appointed Wasfi al-Tall prime minister. His immediate mission was to eliminate the Palestinian threat to the monarchy’s stability. See Susser, On Both Banks of the Jordan, pp. 141-71.

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Notes to pp. 61-65

26

27

Major targets were Palestinian strongholds in Jabel al-Hashimi, Jabal Husayn, and Jabal Wahdat. Fighting also took place in Suwaylih, Zarga, and Salt, and in the “liberated area” near the town of Ramtha on the Syrian border and Irbid. See U. Dann, King Hussein's Strategy of Survival (Washington, DC: The Washington Institute for Near East Policy, Policy Paper Number 29, 1992), pp. 23-29. According to Stanley (“Fragmentation and National Liberation Movements: the PLO,” p. 1049), about 3,000 trained Palestinians were killed in clashes with the Jordanian army.

28

The PLO-Jordanian accord was not the first between the organization and an Arab state. In September 1969, an agreement mediated by Nasser was signed between the Lebanese government and the PLO, in an attempt to end armed clashes that had broken out over

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PLO violations of Lebanon’s sovereignty. On attempts that were conducted by Fatah to outline a framework for future relations with the king, see Abu Iyad, My Home, My Land, pp. 80-92; Sayigh, Armed Struggle and the Search for State, pp. 274-79. For more details on the final eviction from Jordan of the resistance’s infrastructure, see Jabber, “The Palestinian Resistance and Inter-Arab Politics,” pp. 204-10; O’Neill, Armed Struggle in Palestine, pp. 144-50. The concept of control, which over the years came to dominate Fatah’s institutional process, was brought to the author’s attention by Yezid Sayigh in a discussion on January 28, 2000 in London. This organizational determinant is extensively elaborated upon in Sayigh’s Armed Struggle and the Search for State.

7

The Fifth Institutional Phase, 1971-1973: Reconstruction

1

Before 1967, about 180,000 Palestinian refugees lived in Lebanon. By 1969, their number increased to about 235,000 due to further immigration following the war of 1967 and natural increase. R. Brynen, Sanctuary and Survival: The PLO in Lebanon (Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 1990), pp. 25-29. In the wake of the Jordanian showdown, Israel intensified its own pressure on the Palestinian organizations inside the occupied territories and practically demolishe d their Gaza stronghold. According to Sayigh, by mid-1971 about 3,500 Palestinians were imprisoned in Israeli jails, 5,620 were convicted for security offenses, and about 1,000 were under administrative arrest. Collective punishment and deterrence measures were also applied, including demolition of houses and relocations, in order to hinder popular support and assistance for the operatives. Rates of terror attacks dropped correspond ingly. See Gazit, Trapped, pp. 152-58; O’Ballance, Arab Guerrilla Power 196 7-1973, pp. 91-204; O’Neill, Armed Struggle in Palestine, pp. 89-99. By late 1971, the Syrian policy towards the practice of armed struggle against Israel had changed. Most of Sa’iqa’s offices were ordered closed, and the organization was placed entirely under the army’s control. Moreover. supervision over PLA cadres on Syrian soil was intensified, especially operatives with leftist inclinations. According to Sayigh (Armed Struggle and the Search for State, pp. 288-94), the measures against the resistance (including restrictions on movement, strict regulation of military action, and permission to recruit Syrian nationals only) were triggered by the presence of numerous activists inside Syria (numbering up to some 9,000 men). Syria extended the pressure on the organizations, driving the leaderships of Fatah, the PLA, and other groups to the conclusion that they should fortify their Lebanese strongholds. The PFLP rejected the Lebanese option, but ultimately followed the other organizations, moving its forces to Lebanon in mid-1972. According to Sayigh (Armed Struggle and the Search for State, pp. 292-99), Fatah had begun redeploying cadres to Lebanon already by June 1971. The formal decision to transfer the bases to Lebanon was made at the leadership’s plenary meeting, which convened in

2

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Notes to pp. 65-67

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September 1971 for the first time since the eruption of the crisis in Jordan. Among other resolutions, the plenary resolved to constitute an underground apparatus in Jordan to work for the downfall of the regime. Salah Khalaf was designated as head of the organization. In the late 1960s, the population of Lebanon was about 2.7 million, of which roughly half were Christians and the rest Muslims (O’Ballance, Arab Guerrilla Power 1967-1973, p. 96).

See also A. Yaniv, Dilemmas of Security: Politics, Strategy, and the Israeli Experience in Lebanon (New York: Oxford University Press, 1987), pp. 46-64. On the Lebanese sectarian balance and opposition forces see W. Khalidi, Conflict and Violence in Lebanon: Confrontation in the Middle East, Harvard Studies in International Affairs, no. 38 (1979), pp. 33-45; I. Rabinovich, The War for Lebanon, 1970-1983 (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1984), pp. 75-88. Reportedly (O’Neill, Armed Struggle in Palestine, p. 80, Sayigh, Armed Struggle and the Search for State, pp. 190-91), by April 1969, the total guerrilla strength in the area of ‘Arqub rose to about 500-600 men. Brynen, Sanctuary and Survival, Appendix: The Cairo Agreement (1969), pp. 201-2; Y. Sayigh, “Armed Struggle and State Formation,” Journal of Palestine Studies 26, no. 4 (1997): 17-32. O'Neill, Armed Struggle in Palestine, pp. 184-204. As in previous years, armed struggle persisted concurrently inside Israel, although at lesser rates than the cross-border activity from Jordan, Lebanon, and Syria. In the years 1967-70, violent activity inside Israel comprised about 25 percent of the overall volume ofPalestinian armed struggle. Most of the violent activity took place in the Gaza Strip, where it peaked in 1970, attributed to poor socio-economic conditions, unfavorable demographics (the highest birth rate in the Israeli-ruled territories), large concentrations of 1948 refugees, and the existence of an organizational and military infrastructure that had been established in the area prior to the war of 1967 by PLA cadres. In 1971, however, harsh countermeasures undermined the resistance organizations’ standing in the refugee camps, and brought about a marked decline in the scope and volume of violent struggle in and from the region. In all, the activity inside Israel was rather sporadic, and much lower in volume than in the crossborder sphere. See: Alon, Countering Palestinian Terrorism in Israel, p. 56; O'Neill, Armed

Struggle in Palestine, p. 52; Gazit, Trapped, pp. 70-73. Edward Said (The Politics of Dispossession, pp. 24-29) wrote that “politically, the hard truth is that the [Jordanian] vacillation destroyed [the Palestinians] — in their present form at least. The ‘cause’ remains, and the Palestinian people are still grievously sinned against, but it must be for a new generation ofleaders to define the cause more adequately and operationally, totally, systematically, and to organize politically for it, to assess forces accurately, to ascertain foe and ally precisely.” In retrospect, Said’s conclusion that only a new generation of leadership would be able to preside over a strategic shift was clearly too harsh, but his contention concerning the need to transform Palestinian politics following

the crisis was very much on the mark. According to Sayigh (Armed Struggle and the Search for State, p. 291), “the influx took Fateh combat strength in south Lebanon to 1,800—2,000 by the end of 1971, the PFLP to

250-500, and the DFLP and PFLP-GC [led by Jibril] each to 100-250 by mid-1972, with nearly as many guerrillas in the refugee camps and main cities . . . the influx totaled 15,000—30,000.” The Shi’ite community of southern Lebanon suffered most from the Israeli raids. Since the establishment ofthe state of Lebanon, however, the Shi'ites were remote from the country’s centers and sources of power and had suffered from persistent economic and social neglect. Therefore, there was no power that could counterbalance the effects of Palestinian mobilization, and those years saw the emergence of a nascent alliance between the Palestinian population and organizations and the Lebanese Shi'ite community. Within a short period,

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i)

this partnership would become a major determinant of the erosion of the country’s domestic balance of power. In the early 1970s, however, criticism was voiced in the border area against the army and the government, due to their inability to defend the population against Israeli reprisals. In February 1970, for example, the joint Resistance-Lebanese Higher Committee for Palestinian Affairs stated that the guerrillas would be allowed to train outside the refugee camps; that their organizations would be responsible for protection of the camps; and that guerrilla forces and the army would share checkpoints on the Syrian frontier. The agreement, which was never wholly implemented, also banned guerrillas from carrying arms in population centers. Pressure on the resistance to restrain the conduct of armed struggle mounted again in May 1970, following an ambush by the PFLP of an Israeli school bus on the frontier road. Israel retaliated by extensive rocket shelling, which created a massive flight of refugees from the area to the north. Violation of the Cairo agreement by the resistance formed a backdrop for calls by Lebanese politicians from the Christian right to cancel the accord? The PLO, quite naturally, was determined to preserve the formal status quo. In early 1972, for example, Israeli warnings generated a governmental crisis, which was resolved only when the PLO voluntarily agreed to cease operations for two months. The attacks were renewed after forty days. See Jabber, “The Palestinian Resistance and Inter-Arab Politics,” pp. 211-16; O’Neill, Armed Struggle in Palestine, pp. 84-85. Y. Arnon-Ohana and A.Yodfat, PLO: A Portrait of an Organization (Tel Aviv: Ma’ariv,

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18 19 20

21

1985), pp. 138-39 [Hebrew]; Brynen, Sanctuary and Survival, p. 225n (also quoting Sayigh). The Yarmuk brigade was named after the Yarmuk battle, which “was a pivotal seventhcentury victory of the Arab-Islamic forces over the Byzantine armies in the Near East that allowed the Islamization and Arabization of the fertile Crescent” (Farsoun, Palestine and the Palestinians, p. 187). About 5,000 guerrillas were reportedly on Lebanese soil at the time (Sayigh, Armed Struggle and the Search for State, p. 312). “The Conflict within the Palestinian Liberation Army,” Al-Muharrir, September 27, 1971; “Intensification of the Friction among the Resistance Organizations,” A/-Siyasa, October 14, 1971; “Embarrassment within Fatah Movement in Lebanon,” Al-Siyasa, November 2, 1972; “Factual Information Regarding the Conflict and Confrontations between the Two Rival Factions of Fatah in Lebanon,” A/-Nahar, October 25, 1972. Sayigh, Armed Struggle and the Search for State, pp. 295-99, 349-56. The PFLP’s international campaign was motivated by the wish to foment awareness vis-dvis the Palestinian problem and prevent a negotiated settlement to the Arab-Israeli conflict. By contrast, Black September’s actions emerged as compensation, rather than as an end in itself. Israeli crackdowns and the expulsion from Jordan had rendered Fatah’s preferred methods of struggle from inside Israel or from the bordering states impractical : international terrorism was adopted as an alternative. On the debate among resistance organizations concerning violence against the general public inside Israel and in the international sphere, see Merari and Elad, The International Dimension of Palestinia n Terrorism, pp. 15-28. Abu lyad, My Home, My Land, pp. 95-96. R. El-Reyyas and D. Nahas, Guerrillas for Palestine (London: Croom Helm, 1976), pp. 58-63. On December 15, 1971 the Jordanian ambassador to Washington was shot; the next daya bomb exploded in the Jordanian embassy in Geneva. See Merari and Elad, The International Dimension of Palestinian Terrorism, pp. 130-42. “Black September was never a terrorist organization. It acted when the Resistance was no longer in a position to fully assume its military and political task.” Abu Iyad (My Home, My Land, pp. 97-112) noted that “[Tall] was shot down under the very eyes of various Arab

172

Notes to pp. 70-74

DD,

23

24

25 26

ministers, who hit the ground during the shooting. This was a fringe benefit of the operation, since the commandos had wanted to issue a warning precisely to those in the Arab world who might be tempted to sacrifice the rights or interests of the Palestinian people.” Regarding the attack at the Munich Olympic Games of September 1972, Abu lyad elucidated that “the plan had three objectives: to affirm the existence of the Palestinian people, to give our cause resounding coverage — positive or negative, it mattered little — by taking advantage of the extraordinary concentration of mass media at Munich, and, finally, to force Israel to release fedayeen.” Those years saw the worldwide proliferation of civilian and military apparatuses that were specifically assigned to deal with international terrorism. Counterterrorism became an elaborate industry in its own right. To be sure, BSO was not the only trigger that led to this development, which carried on for years after BSO ceased operations. Still it contributed much to the developments, even at a time when other factions, new and old, acquired leading positions in the arena of international terrorism. In the aftermath of Munich, the Israeli government undertook a concerted manhunt, killing most of the Fatah membership that had participated in the assault. On the role of intelligence in combating terrorism, see A. Yariv, Cautious Assessment (Tel Aviv: Ministry of Defense Publishing House, 1998), pp. 126-35 [Hebrew]; E. O’Ballance, “Terrorism in the Middle East,” in M. Livingston et al. (eds.), International Terrorism in the Contemporary World (London: Greenwood Press, 1978), pp. 160-64; Sayigh, Armed Struggle and the Search for State, p. 311. Other organizations that were active in this sphere were the PFLP (also in cooperation with the Japanese Red Army Brigades), the PFLP-GC, the Arab Nationalist Youth Organization, and Sa’iqa. See Merari and Elad, The International Dimension of Palestinian Terrorism, pp. 130-35. Sayigh, Armed Struggle and the Search for State, pp. 312-17. Farsoun, Palestine and the Palestinians, pp. 187-90; C. Rubenberg, The PLO: Institutional Infrastructure (Mass: Belmont, Institute of Arab Studies, 1993); interview with Ehud Yaari,

Dil

28 29

Jerusalem, August 13, 2000. O’Ballance, Arab Guerrilla Power 1967-1973, pp. 99-100; Y. Sayigh, “The Roots of SyrianPLO Differences,” MEI (October 29, 1982), pp. 15-16; Quandt, “Political and Military Dimensions of Contemporary Palestinian Nationalism,” pp. 132-33. Sela, The Decline of the Arab-Israeli Conflict, p. 128. “The PLO forced a typical catch-22 situation, while it desperately needed a single institution to provide cohesion, the viability of such an institution was dependent upon a meaningful political consensus which did not exist,” ONeill, Armed Struggle in Palestine, p. 153. See also Gresh, The PLO, pp. 112-16; Jabber, “The Palestinian Resistance and Inter-Arab Politics,” pp. 211-15; Shemesh, “Egypt’s Commitment to the Palestinian Cause,” pp. 23-24.

30 31 ays

Y. al-Ayouty, “Egypt and the Palestinians,” Current History 39 (January 1973): 9-12; Sela, The Decline of the Arab-Israeli Conflict, pp. 138-40. Mishal, The PLO under Arafat, pp. 15-17. No territory was formally annexed (Jerusalem and its environs being a notable exception), yet government policies were testimony to the conviction that Israel would be able to decide unilaterally on the future ofthe territories, as suggested by the plan first submitted in July 1967 by Yigal Allon. According to the plan, the Jordan valley would be annexed to Israel within the framework of an eventual settlement. Another plan was formulated by Moshe Dayan, who maintained that the best way to assure the security needs of Israel was to grant Palestinians in the West Bank civilian autonomy, and at the same time to establish Israeli civilian and military strongholds in strategic locations throughout the area. Both plans, which shared the logic of reinforcing Israel’s security by controlling strategic areas,

173

Notes to pp. 75-79 remained unpublicized and were not formally affirmed. But even in the absence of a formally accepted policy, the following years saw a substantiation of Israeli rule over the territories. The Israeli-run civil administration in the territories was reinforced and the provision of elementary services significantly expanded. Israeli settlements were established, precipitating a major settlement enterprise. Fatah and the other resistance organizations could not compete with the Israeli administrative drive. In March 1972, Israel held municipal elections in parts of the West Bank, which were followed by additional elections in May. The elections were held under Jordanian law, and prior campaigning was not allowed. Jordan and the PLO opposed the move, but neither enjoyed sufficient influence to prevent them from taking place. The relatively calm and democratic conduct of the elections was interpreted, at least from the Israeli perspective, as testimony to the gradual adaptation of the local population to the status quo. The result suggested the emergence of a fresh class of professional municipal leaders who were affiliated neither with Jordan nor with the traditional elite nor with the resistance movement. Gazit, Trapped, pp. 159-76, 144-45; R. Pedatzur, The Triumph of Embarrassment (Tel Aviv: Yad Tabenkin. 1996) [Hebrew]. 33 34

Gresh, The PLO, p. 105.

On the abortive Egyptian—Saudi mediation attempts, which included a series of meetings in Jeddah, see Jabber, “The Palestinian Resistance and Inter-Arab Politics.” pp. 210-11. On the Palestinian response to the discussions held in Jeddah, see ALUsbu’ al-Arabi, November 19, 1971.

B5

36

Si

38

39 40

41

8 1

The political program of the PNC, January 12, 1973, in Y. Lukacs (ed.), The Israeli-Palestinian Conflict: A Documentary Record 1967-1990 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1992), pp. 303-6. Cobban, The Palestinian Liberation Organization, pp. 172-73; Gresh, The PLO, pp. 118-19. By December 1973 eight PNF leaders were deported to Jordan. For more on concurrent efforts to institutionalize political activity in the territories, see Sayigh, Armed Struggle and the Search for State, pp. 463-84. On the emerging Soviet-American détente, see H. Kissinger, Years of Upheaval (Boston: Little, Brown and Company, 1982), pp. 229-301: Quandt, Peace Process, pp. 116-47. H. al-Ayyubi, “The Future Arab Strategy in Light of the Fourth War,” Shu’un Filastiniyya, October, 1974, translated by M. Steinberg, in Y. Harkabi (ed.), The Arabs and Israel, no. 5 (Tel Aviv: Am Oved, 1975), pp. 9-22 [Hebrew]; U. Bar-Yosef, The Watchman Fell Asleep: The Surprise of Yom Kippur and its Sources (Tel Aviv: Zmora-Bitan, 2001), pp. 69-93 [Hebrew]; M. H. Kerr, “Nixon’s Second Term: Policy Prospects in the Middle East,” Journal of Palestine Studies 2, no. 3 (1973): 13-29. According to Abu Iyad (My Home, My Land, p. 122), Sadat shared his intention to go to war with leaders of Fatah who met with him in mid-August in Cairo. Ben-Zvi, The American Approach to Superpower Collaboration in the Middle East, 1973-1986, pp. 19-41; Y. Cordova, The Policy of the United States in the Yom Kippur War (Tel Aviv: Ministry of Defense Publishing House, 1987) [Hebrew] ; Kissinger, Years of Upheaval, pp. 538-613; Schiff, Earthquake in October (Tel Aviv: Zmora, Bitan, Modan,

1974), pp. 157-60 [Hebrew]; Quandt, Peace Process, pp. 148-82. Abu lyad, My Home My Land, p. 120.

The Sixth Institutional Phase, 1974-1982: Violent Lead, Political Backup The Egyptian and the Israeli governments signed disengagement agreements on November

11, 1973 and September 1, 1975 (the Sinai I and Sinai II accords); an interim agreement, supervised by the UN, was signed by the Syrian and the Israeli armies on May 31, 1974. See Ben-Zvi, The American Approach to Superpower Collaboration in the Middle East,

174

Notes to pp. 79-81 1973-1986, pp. 25-41; The Israel-Arab Reader, pp. 572-82; Quandt, Peace Process, pp. i)

177-220. Syria did not participate, setting Israeli withdrawal from the occupied territories as a precondition for negotiations. On the Soviet attitude towards the Geneva formula, see: G. Golan, The Soviet Union and the PLO, Adelphi Paper no. 131 (London: IISS, 1976). Sadat’s request that the Palestinians be represented by a separate delegation was denied, and King Hussein, for his part, insisted that Jordan was the genuine representative of the Palestinian people. See Y. Nedava (ed.), The Arab-Israel Conflict (Ramat Gan: Revivim, 1983), pp. 134-36, 148-72 [Hebrew]. Abu lyad, My Home, My Land, pp. 134-42; Nayif Hawatmeh, extracts from a symposium “The Palestinian Resistance in the Face of the New Challenges,” Shu’un Filastiniyya, February, 1974, in E. Sivan (ed.), The Arabs and Israel, no. 6 (1975), pp. 108-9, 118 [Hebrew translation]; T. Prat, “Palestinian Armed Struggle: Strategy and Tactics,” in A. Kurz (ed.), Contemporary Trends in World Terrorism (New York: Praeger and Tel Aviv: Jaffee Center for Strategic Studies at Tel Aviv University, 1987), pp. 24-31. As Zohair Muhsin (spokesman of Sa’iqa) noted, “Before the last war our thinking concerning the struggle against Zionism featured romantic determinants. Never did we define what we wanted. This was both logical and natural, since we have been defeated for

the past twenty-five years successively, and therefore what we wanted was war for the sake of war... After the last war, a change has taken place. Helplessness has gone. Therefore, it is inconceivable that the Arab nation and the Palestinian national movement remain captive to romantic thinking. It must define what it realistically wants . . . even if what we want is to promote the process in the direction of a new war. . . [this goal] has to have gradual objectives . . . Since the balance of power has changed, and since we are capable, today more than before, to continue the struggle and especially armed struggle. . . the objectives and modes of struggle that will determine the conditions of the settlement have to change as well.” Extracts from a symposium on “the Palestinian Resistance in the face of the new challenges,” Shu’un Filastiniyya, February 1974, in The Arabs and Israel, no. 4. In 1965, Bourguiba advised insistence upon compliance by Israel with UN resolutions pertaining to the conflict, starting with the partition plan of 1947, as a step weakening Israel towards a larger change in the region’s strategic balance. However, concern over the possibility that endorsement of a phased strategy would eventually lead to recognition of Israel motivated rejection of the proposal by resistance and state leaders. Bourguiba himself was accused of betraying Arab solidarity. In 1976, against the backdrop of a quite different political atmosphere, Bourguiba repeated the call for a settlement of the Arab-Israeli conflict on the basis of the 1947 UN partition resolution. See F. Sayigh, “A Study on the Implications of ‘Bourguism’ and its Slogans,” in Harkabi (ed.), The Arabs and Israel, pp. 23-38 [Hebrew translation]. For the deliberations of the Algiers summit, see Sela, Unity within Conflict in the Inter-Arab System, pp. 99-118. The program reiterated dedication to struggle “by all means, foremost of which is armed struggle, to liberate Palestinian land and to establish the people’s national independent and fighting authority on every part of Palestinian land to be liberated.” Also underscored was a pledge to “struggle against any plan for the establishment of a Palestinian entity the price of which is recognition, conciliation, secure borders, renunciation of the national rights, and our people’s deprivation of their right to return and their right to determine their fate on their national soil.” See Palestine National Council, Political Program, June 8, 1974, in The Israeli—Palestinian Conflict, pp. 308-12. A statement by DFLP secretary-general Nayif Hawatmeh in defense of the establishment of a Palestinian National Authority in territories liberated from Israeli occupation, February 24, 1974, in The Israeli—Palestinian Conflict, pp. 307-8.

175

Notes to pp. 81-83 10

11

iy 13

14

16

“The Palestinian Organizations: Their Position Regarding the Establishment of a Palestinian State and a Peace Settlement in the Middle East Following the October War,” in Selections from Newspapers and Radio Broadcasts, no. 4, 1974, The Mt. Scopus Center for Research on Palestinian Arabs and Arab-Israeli Relations (Jerusalem: Hebrew University, 1974). Seeking to neutralize the implications of this pledge to the prospects of advancing bilateral agreements with Israel, Egypt endeavored to mend differences between the PLO and Jordan, specifically pressing the former to accept the principle of establishing a Palestinian state on part of historic Palestine. See Sela, The Decline of the Arab-Israeli Conflict, pp. 158-71. For more on the deliberations of the Rabat summit see The Israeli—Palestinian Conflict, pp. 463-64; Sela, Unity within Conflict in the Inter-Arab System, pp. 120-40. Arafat visited Moscow twice during 1974. It was on the second visit, which was held in November, that arms and training were offered to Fatah. See Gresh, The PLO, pp. 180-81. UN General Assembly Resolution 3236, in The Israeli-Palestinian Conflict, p.15. Arafat’s speech of November 13, 1974, in The Israeli—Palestinian Conflict, pp. 317-33. Towards the end of the speech, Arafat said that “the Palestinian masses want the leadership of the Liberation Organization to win their battles against all the forces that are seeking to impose this imperialist liquidation settlement so that they may continue their popular revolution against Israel [and against] the subservient regime in Jordan, imperialism and all reactionary surrenderist forces.” For a list of attacks against Palestinian and Arab targets in the international sphere, see Merari and Elad, The International Dimension of Palestinian Terrorism, pp. 130-39. In 1979, several Fatah units that had conspired to sabotage oil installations and airport facilities in Western Europe were arrested. At the time, Fatah’s leadership was endeavoring to improve relations with Western Europe. The coincidence formed the backdrop for allegations that the operations ~ and particularly their interception — were actually planned by the organization’s leadership, and that the organization’s subsequent cooperation with law enforcement agencies in Western Europe was designed to improve its prestige and image of uprightness. See Arnon-Ohana and Yodfat, PLO: A Portrait of an Organization, pp. 229-39. Negotiations included contacts between Abu Iyad and the Dutch government on the release of Palestinians who had been arrested in the Netherlands for their involvement in a previous attack, in return for the release of the hijacked airliner’s passengers. See Abu Iyad, My Home, My Land, pp. 149-54. Similar intra-organizational problems challenged the authority of George Habash over the PFLP. Since 1973, however, Habash himself had disputed the political logic ofplane hijackings, provoking opposition from within his organization. According to Amos (Palestinian Resistance, pp. 153-58), Habash had actually been pressured by Fatah to abandon airline hijackings. Consequently, Habash noted that “hijackings are old hat. Our methods have changed” and that “the method of the hijacking of aircraft had served its purpose, and could not offer more than what it had offered already, without harming the other aspects of struggle, particularly after the Palestinian cause had won wide sectors of friends throughout the world, and got enough publicity.” Still, he argued that “other methods are still capable of serving the cause and the revolution. .. . It is to emphasize that our military action abroad is auxiliary action, compared to our military action inside the occupied lands, which forms the principal and basic form of our revolutionary struggle.” According to Merari and Elad, The International Dimension of Palestini an Terrorism, in the period between 1975 and 1984, the PFLP was responsible for thirteen international attacks, as opposed to fifty-one attacks in the period between 1968 and 1974. In the period between 1975 and 1986, Fatah perpetrated twenty-six international attacks, as opposed to seventysix attacks (including those perpetrated by BSO) during 1971-74. Most prominent among these factions was a Fatah splinter organiza tion called the Fatah

176

Notes to pp. 84-86

19 20 72)

22

23

24

25 26

af

~ Revolutionary Council (FRC), also known as Black June or the Abu Nidal Organization. Another such faction was a PFLP splinter called the Arab Nationalist Youth Organization for the Liberation of Palestine (Wadi Haddad Faction). See M. Steinberg, “Radical Palestinian Thought according to Abu Nidal,” in Trends in Palestinian National Thought, The Leonard Davis Institute (Jerusalem: Hebrew University, 1988); O. Yarimi, “The Palestine Liberation Organization,” in Middle East Contemporary Survey 1980-81 (hereafter: MECS), The Shiloah Center for Middle Eastern and African Studies, Tel Aviv University (New York: Holmes and Meier, 1982), pp. 301-2. Gresh, The PLO, pp. 138-46. E. Sahliyeh, In Search of Leadership: West Bank Politics Since 1967 (Washington: The Brookings Institution, 1988), pp. 42-114. According to E. Ben Rafael, Israel and Palestine: A Guerrilla Conflict in International Politics (New York: Greenwood Press, 1987), p. 129, the average number of cross-border assaults launched from Lebanon per year from 1969 to 1982 was eighty-three, with peaks

in 1969 (150), 1970 (110), 1975 (118), and 1981 (135). On April 11, 1974 the PFLP-GC carried out a barricade-hostage assault in Kiryat Shmona; on May 15, 1974 the DFLP carried out a barricade—-hostage assault in Ma’alot; and on June 26, 1974 Fatah carried out a barricade—hostage assault in Nahariya. The spectacular raids, which were carried out by the DFLP in September and November 1974, coincided with a tour by Fatah leaders to China, the USSR, and North Korea. For a detailed survey of the backdrop of the Lebanese civil war, see M. Deeb, The Lebanese Civil War (New York: Praeger, 1980); Rabinovich, The War for Lebanon, 1970-1983, pp. 34-59, The incident took place in Beirut, in the city’s predominantly Christian district of ‘Ayn alRummana, and involved exchanges of fire between Palestinian forces and Christian militias. See Brynen, Sanctuary and Survival, pp. 53-78. Junblat’s coalition comprised predominantly non-Christian leftist or pan-Arab forces. On May 7, 1975 the Maronite president Suleiman Franjiyya established a military government. The new cabinet, which drew criticism from Palestinian organizations, the Sunni establishment, and Syria, collapsed after only three days, and Rashid Karami, a Muslim politician, was nominated prime minister. Camille Chamoun, head of the Maronite National Liberation Party, was included in the government. Those days saw the initiation of clandestine contacts between Israel and the Lebanese National Party, headed by Camille Chamoun, and later with the Christian Phalanges. Israel allegedly provided the Lebanese Front with an estimated $100 million worth of arms and other assistance. Israel also continued the campaign against the infrastructure of Palestinian armed forces despite the concurrent decrease in cross-border raids by Palestinian organizations. Concomitantly, Israel initiated welfare services to residents of the south, who entered Israel through the Good Fence —a network of crossing points along the Lebanese-Israeli border. The crisis also formed a backdrop for formulating an understanding between Damascus and Jerusalem concerning Lebanon. Encouraged by the US administration, Israel approved of the Syrian invasion as long as Syrian forces stayed north of the Red Line — a virtual border, stretching some 10 km. north of the border, from the

area of Sidon in the west to the south of the Beka Valley. See R. Avi Ran, Syrian Involvement in Lebanon

28

(1974-1985 ) (Tel Aviv: Ministry of Defense Publishing House,

1986), pp. 64-68 [Hebrew]; Brynen, Sanctuary and Survival, pp. 89-101. A statement by Harold M. Saunders, Deputy Assistant Secretary of State for Near Eastern and South Asian affairs, before the House Foreign Affairs Subcommittee on the Middle East (November 12, 1975), specified the “question of who negotiates for the Palestinians.” Saunders contended that the US could not negotiate with the PLO since “it does not accept the UN Resolutions, does not recognize the existence ofIsrael, and has not stated its readi-

177

Notes to p. 86

ness to negotiate peace with Israel.” Another obstacle to inclusion of the PLO in a regional process was the fact that “Israel does not recognize the PLO or the idea of a separate Palestinian entity.” Declining to involve the PLO in the intended negotiations was also grounded in the involvement of “elements of the PLO” in terrorist attacks “to gain attention for their cause,” The Israel—Arab Reader, pp. 585-88. To be sure, the American backing of Israel was concomitantly upheld by its veto on a resolution by the November 1975 UN General Assembly, which defined Zionism as a “form of racism or racial discrimination.” 29 The PLO’s first attempt to initiate a dialogue with the United States was made in July 1973, that is, before the war of October and the articulation of the phased strategy. Richard Helms, then US ambassador to Tehran, informed Henry Kissinger that he had been told by one of Arafat’s close associates that the PLO was interested in establishing contacts with the administration based on the premises that “Israel is here to stay” and “Jordan would be the house of a Palestinian state.” “A nothing message” was sent in response. See Kissinger, Years of Upheaval, pp. 625-29. In November 1973, however, a meeting was held in Rabat, under the auspices of King Hasan, between Fatah representatives and Lieutenant General Vernon Walters, then deputy director of the CIA. As far as the administration was concerned, the meeting was only meant to gain maneuvering room and secure American interests against terrorist attacks. Any implied readiness of the PLO to participate in negotiations with Israel was ignored. The importance attached by the PLO to its relations with the US administration rose in the aftermath of the war of October 1973. Related debates were stimulated by attempts conducted by the administration to advance a negotiated settlement to the Middle East conflict and the successful conclusion of Israeli-Egyptian and Israeli-Syrian disengagement agreements. Both the rejectionist front and organizations affiliated with the mainstream camp, headed by Fatah, negated the settlement that the administration was seeking to advance, specifically rejecting references to Jordan as the designated representative of the Palestinian people. However, the two camps disagreed as to the manner in which the American scheme could be frustrated. Radical organizations adhered to an explicit anti-American stance and demanded that the leadership of the PLO desist from the search for accommodation with the US. Fatah’s leadership, on the other hand, sought to convince the US to reconsider its policy towards the relevance of the PLO to Middle East politics. Evidently, the change in Fatah’s attitude toward the practice of violent struggle in the international sphere was associated with the endeavor to be institutionalized politically, and especially to acquire formal recognition by the US. See: E. Lerman, The PLO’s Attitude towards the United States: 1973-1979, Shiloah Institute for Middle Eastern and African Studies (Tel Aviv: Tel Aviv University, 1980). On American public opinion towards the role of the PLO in the political process see E. Gilboa, “Trends in American Attitudes towards the PLO and the Palestinians,” Political Communication and Persuasion 3, no. 1 (1985): 45-67. Most businesslike pseudo-formal channels of communication that existed in the 1970s between Fatah and the administration involved low-key contacts between the organization and CIA agents. These contacts were primarily meant by the administration to secure the safety of American interests. Kissinger noted that after the Novembe r 1973 Rabat meeting, “attacks on Americans — at least by Arafat’s faction of the PLO — ceased.” In Beirut, CIA

agents held contacts with Ali Hasan Salameh, a prominent member of the BSO who headed a militia of some 6,000 men located around the city. Salameh, who had masterminded the Munich attack against the Israeli athletes, was later killed by Israeli agents on January 22, 1977 in Beirut. In the summer of 1976, Fatah provided protectio n for the evacuation of American citizens from Beirut. However, resistance leaders perceived attempts to settle the Lebanese conflict, which were conducted by the Ford administr ation, as indicative of a USled a scheme against the Palestinian people.

178

|

Notes to pp. 86-87

|

As of 1976, mistrust of American ambitions in the Middle East and acknowledgment of

the administration’s commitments to Israeli strategic interests notwithstanding, Fatah labored to draw the attention of the American political establishment and public to its role in the Middle East scene. To this end, spokesmen emphasized the moral dimension of the Palestinian problem and the linkage between the world economy and Middle East conflict, explicitly referring to difficulties that might emanate from disregarding the PLO. The campaign, which was encouraged by the Egyptian, Saudi, and some West European governments, included a series of meetings between Fatah representatives and American senators and congressmen. In any case, it was accompanied by persistent condemnation of the US policies on Middle Eastern issues. Fatah was particularly disappointed at the American refusal to accept the Arab recognition of the PLO as the representative of the Palestinian people. See Arafat interview in Ruz al- Yusuf, October 21, 1974, and in al-Siyasa 30

31

32

33

34

35

January 12, 1975. On Syria’s interest in stabilizing the Lebanese sphere as part of a bid to regional ascendance and the importance attributed by Damascus of being regarded as a pacifying player in the eyes of regional and international actors, particularly the US administration, see Rabinovich, The War for Lebanon, 1970-1983, pp. 47-54. On the PLO’s mediation efforts throughout the war and repeated attempts to reach understanding with Syria, see Abu Iyad, My Home, My Land, pp. 159-201. Fatah’s troops numbered 8,000—10,000. In addition, PLA units (numbering about 3,000 troops) were called by Fatah from Egypt and Syria. About 3,000-4,000 troops were also dispatched from Iraq. See Khalidi, Conflict and Violence in Lebanon, p. 82. According to Sayigh (Armed Struggle and the Search for State, p. 385) the combined strength of forces loyal to Syria numbered about 17,000, including Palestinian and Christian units. See also Avi Ran, Syrian Involvement in Lebanon (1974-1985), pp. 29-31. In the first phase of the war, President Sadat backed the Maronite forces. However, by early

1976, he had come to embrace an openly pro-Palestinian policy, as a means to shore up his inter-Arab status and restore Egypt’s position as the main benefactor of the PLO in the Arab world. Egypt, as well as the Gulf states, also ventured to stabilize the Lebanese arena in order to prevent spillover of the war into the Arab-Israeli sphere — a potentiality that concerned the US administration as well. Their eagerness to advance an agreement on the issue of Lebanon was also motivated by the quest to facilitate implementation of an American-brokered regional settlement in accordance with Arab dispositions. See Quandt, Peace Process, pp. 246-49. For an analysis of oil-related politics and the influence of the rich Gulf monarchies in determining the legitimization of the diplomatic approach to addressing the Israeli—Palestinian conflict, see Sela, The Decline of the Arab-Israeli Conflict, pp. 170-73, 211-13. Iraq joined the anti-Syria front following clashes that took place in Lebanon between Syrian forces and pro-Iraqi Palestinian factions. In June 1976 Iraq deployed troops along the Syrian border. Aside from the anti-Syrian Arab front were organizations affiliated with the Lebanese Front and Jordan, which regarded Syria as a mechanism for the annihilation of the Palestinian power. Also at this stage the PFLP demanded expulsion of the Syriansponsored Sa’iqa from the PLO. See Brynen, Sanctuary and Survival, pp. 95-98; Khalidi, Conflict and Violence in Lebanon, pp. 57-58. Moscow opposed the invasion, yet could not prevent Syria from executing its plan. The Soviet disinterest in supporting the revisionist coalition against the Syrian army was harshly criticized by the Palestinian organizations. See Abu lyad, My Home, My Land, pp. 193-94. The US and France, which had both counted on Syria to mitigate the crisis, explicitly

supported the invasion. The invasion was also preceded by a tacit understanding with Israel, mediated by the United States, ona red line delineating the Syrian and Israeli spheres of military presence in Lebanon (Sela, The Decline of the Arab-Israeli Conflict, pp. 177-83).

179

Notes to pp. 87-89

36

The ADF was comprised of contingents from Syria, Saudi Arabia, the United Arab Emirates, Sudan, and North Yemen, but the Syrian force was the most prominent. Reportedly, about 2,000—3,000 of the camp’s residents were killed during the days of the siege and in the aftermath of the downfall. Sayigh, Armed Struggle and the Search for State, pp. 395-98. 38 Deeb, The Lebanese Civil War, pp. 99-122; Khalidi, Conflict and Violence in Lebanon, pp. 82-87; Quandt, Decade of Decisions, pp. 281-84. For more on the Riyadh conference, see D. Dishon, “Inter-Arab Relations,” in MECS 1976-77, pp. 147-78. Libya and Iraq, for their part, were less annoyed by the tension along the Israeli-Lebanese border than by the competing efforts of Egypt and Syria to advance their respective regional ascendance and therefore boycotted the Riyadh summit. A ceasefire arranged by Libya and Algeria between the PLO and Damascus in an effort to prevent collapse of the anti-Egypt front was not observed. 3) On the deliberations at the Cairo summit, see Sela, Unity within Conflict in the Inter-Arab System, pp. 141-57. : 40 The declining emphasis on the practice of cross-border struggle against Israel was already evident during the war. Consequently, the Lebanese—Israeli border registered a dramatic decline in the number of cross-border attacks (though not in Israeli attacks against Palestinian targets on Lebanese soil). This trend extended to the immediate post-war era. Specifically in the case of Fatah, the military entrenchment to which all the organizations attended determined a decline in the emphasis on the direct struggle against Israel. See Brynen, Sanctuary and Survival, pp. 83-115; M. Gammar, “The Situation along Israel’s Frontiers,” in MECS 1976-77, pp. 112-22. 4] Sayigh, Armed Struggle and the Search for State, pp. 403-9. 42 Y. Olmert, “Syria in Lebanon,” in A. E Levite, B. W. Jentleson, L. Berman (eds.), Foreign Military Intervention: The Dynamics of Protracted Conflict (New York: Columbia University Press, 1992), pp. 95-127. 43 In the immediate aftermath of the war, the Syrian—Iraqi contest for regional power culminated into fights between their dependent Palestinian organizations, leading to a split within the PFLP-GC. The Iraqi-sponsored faction led by Abu al-Abbas split from the organization and established an organization named the Palestine Liberation Front (PLE). 44 The proceedings primarily focused on the political sphere of institutionalization, and on the formulation of means to secure intra-organizational legitimacy for diplomatic action designed to secure notice of the Palestinian problem within the context ofa regional settlement. See Gresh, The PLO, pp. 203-10. Article 6 of the resolution affirmed “the right of the Palestine Revolution to be present on the soil of fraternal Lebanon within the framework of the Cairo agreement and its appendices, concluded between the PLO and the Lebanese authorities.” The council also affirmed “adherence to the implementat ion ofthe Cairo agreement in letter and in spirit, including the preservation of the position of the Revolution and the security of the camps.” The PNC refused “to accept any interpretation of this agreement by one side only.” Meanwhile it affirmed “its eagerness for the maintenance of the sovereignty and security of Lebanon.” Despite Syrian opposition, Fatah’s intra-PLO power had increased, as the ALF and PFLP-GC adopted its positions on various matters and joined the PLO’s executive committee. The PEFLP, still adhering to the extremist stances of the rejectionist front, remained out of the executive committee. See MECS 1976-77, pp. 203-7. 45 According to Brynen (Sanctuary and Survival, pp. 113-15), the Shtura agreement, which was never published, specified two stages of pacification. In the first, the heavy weapons of the PLO in the refugee camps had to be collected. The first stage was designated to focus on endowing the ADF with responsibility of guaranteeing the camps’ external security. The second stage was to include cooperation between PASC and the Lebanese internal security

180

|

| atest pp90-9 46

47

48 49

forces. Seeking to limit Syrian influence on Palestinian affairs, Saudi Arabia, Egypt, and Kuwait all endorsed the PLO’s interpretation of the agreement. The fights between the Syrian army and Christian militias escalated in June 1978 following the assassination of Tony Franjiyya, leader of a Christian militia, and the ensuing rise to ascendance of his competitor, Bashir Jumayyil. The Christian camp was considerably weakened by the confrontation, yet managed to preserve control over an autonomous stronghold in east Beirut and most of Mount Lebanon. The strained relations between the Maronite elite and Damascus constituted the backdrop for the constitution of the Israeli-Maronite association. See J. C. Randal, Going all the Way: Christian Warlords, Israeli Adventures, and the War in Lebanon (New York: Viking Press, 1983); Z. Schiff and E. Yaari, Israel's Lebanon War (Tel Aviv: Schocken Publishing House, 1984), pp. 66-85 [Hebrew]. Concurrently, attacks against Israeli and other states’ objectives in the international arena continued, and even intensified. Most of them were perpetrated by Abu Nidal’s FRC. See Arnon-Ohana and Yodfat, PLO: A Portrait of an Organization, pp. 130-33; Merari and Elad, The International Dimension of Palestinian Terrorism, pp. 136-38. On the considerations that directed the Israeli invasion see S. Feldman, “Israel in Lebanon,” in Foreign Military Intervention, pp. 129-61. Z. Schiff, “A New Challenge for Mr. Intelligence,” Ha'aretz, July 20, 2001. Reportedly (Brynen, Sanctuary and Survival, pp. 123-35; Khalidi, Conflict and Violence in Lebanon,

50 51

52 53

54

p.128), about two thousand people were killed in the battles. Six villages in southern Lebanon were destroyed. More than 200,000 residents of the area fled to the north. Schiff and Yaari, /srael’s Lebanon War, pp. 40-77. The ADF’s abstention from engaging in a confrontation with the IDF stirred criticism against Syria, aggravated the relations between Damascus and the Christian militias, and enhanced the forging of an alliance between the latter and Israel. D. Avidan and E. Rekhess, “The West Bank and Gaza Strip,” in MECS 1977-78, pp. 295-96. Another force that exploited the apparent weakness of UNIFIL was the Israeli-backed SLA, which in the coming years would institutionalize as a major factor in the south. Accommodation between the PLO and UNIFIL was reached despite persistent disputes concerning the presence of a UN force in southern Lebanon. Indeed, Fatah’s leadership actually had to impose restraint upon its own field commanders, as well as on those of the PFLP, PSF, ALF, and DFLP. See J. Goldberg, “The Palestine Liberation Organization

55 56

SH)

58

(PLO),” in MECS 1977-78, pp. 253-77. Abu lyad, My Home, My Land, p. 221. During 1974-75, relations were established between the PLO and the governments of a number of Third World states. Though significant to the incremental political institutionalization of the organization, the legitimization drive was not then comprehensive enough to acquire the organization an incontestable, formal role in the Middle Eastern political process. The approach of the Carter administration towards the relevance of the Palestinian issue to stability in the Middle East was largely influenced by a report submitted in December 1975 by the Brookings Institution. See The Israel—Arab Reader, pp. 589-91. See also A. Ben-Zvi, Between Lausanne and Geneva: International Conferences and the Arab-Israeli Conflict, JCSS Study no. 13 (Tel Aviv: Jaffee Center for Strategic Studies at Tel Aviv University, 1989). The concept of“a Palestinian homeland” was noted in a statement issued by President Carter on the eve of the thirteenth PNC. See Lerman, The PLO’s Attitude towards the United States: 1973-1979, pp. 29-51. On Israeli opposition to this policy line, see Ben-Zvi, The American Approach to Superpower Collaboration in the Middle East, 1973-1986, pp. 49-S0.

181

Notes to pp. 92-94 59

60

61 62 63

64

65

66

67

Excerpts from the joint Soviet-American statement on the Middle East, October 1, 1977,

Arnon-Ohana and Yodfat, PLO: A Portrait of an Organization, pp. 279-80. Barnett, Dialogues in Arab Politics, pp. 181-87; M. Gammar, “A Chronology of Commentary on Political Developments in the Arab-Israeli Conflict” (October 1976—October 1977),” in MECS 1967-77, pp. 123-44. Gresh, The PLO, pp. 200-7.

Rocket attacks against northern Israel in early November 1977 triggered air strikes against Lebanon. See Goldberg, in MECS 1977-78, pp. 262-63. Excerpts from Sadat’s speech before the Israeli Knesset, The Israel-Arab Reader, pp. 592-601. On the immediate inter-Arab ramifications of Sadat’s initiative, see Sela, The Decline of the Arab-Israeli Conflict, pp. 191-99. Commenting on Sadat’s address to the Israeli Knesset, Abu Iyad (My Home, My Land, pp. 202-4) asserted that “he had erased all reference to the PLO. .. . This concession was not, nor could it be, a mere formality. It amounted to forsaking the fundamental rights of the Palestinian people as embodied in our organization.” Sadat’s initiative was not the only factor underlying the PLO’s decision to endorse the uneasy option of further rapprochement with Syria. No less and probably more pressing than the need to address the political challenge by affiliation with a broad coalition was the indispensability of securing Syrian backing for the entrenchment enterprise that was concurrently underway on Lebanese soil. At the time, Fatah also strove to improve its relations with the USSR, seeking to counterbalance mounting Syrian influence on its political choices. See: Goldberg in MECS 1977-78, p. 262; Sela, Unity within Conflict in the Inter-Arab System, pp. 159-69. The six-point program, which was issued on December 4, 1977, reaffirmed rejection of UNSCRs 242 and 338 and international conferences based on these resolutions. In line with the resolution of the thirteenth PNC and reiterated by the program was the determination to establish a “Palestinian state on any part of Palestinian land, without reconciliation, recognition or negotiations, as an interim aim of the Palestinian Revolution,” in The Israel-Arab Reader, pp. 601-2. Fatah’s representative to London was assassinated on January 4, 1978. The PLO representative to Kuwait was assassinated on June 15, 1978. The PLO representative to Paris was assassinated on July 31, 1978. The PLO office in Islamabad was attacked on August 5, 1978. The PLO representative to Islamabad was assassinated on March 22, 1979. The

68 69

70 71

assassinations, for the most part, were carried out by Abu Nidal’s organization. Fatah responded by attacking Iraqi and other targets, including those belonging to Abu Nidal’s organization. On March 4, 1978, the Iraqi embassy to Brussels was attacked. The office of the Abu Nidal organization in Tripoli, Libya was attacked on July 19, 1978. On July 20, 1978, the car of the Iraqi ambassador to Brussels was bombed. On August 17, 1978, an Iraqi diplomat was murdered in Libya. Merari and Elad, The International Dimension of Palestinian Terrorism, pp. 137-38. On the inter-Arab power play and shifting alliances that determined the results of the Baghdad summit, see Sela, The Decline of the Arab-Israeli Conflict, pp. 199-211. About $300 million was promised to the PLO and the territories in annual assistance. See Sayigh, Armed Struggle and the Search for State, p. 440-41; S. Muslam, “The PLO: Basic Infrastructure and Institutional Structure,” Dialogue: Palestinian Issues Quarterly no. | (1988). On the Tunis summit, see Sela, Unity within Conflict in the Inter-Arab System, pp. 181-208. The only reference to the PLO was that “we do not even dream of the possibility — if we’re given the chance to withdraw our forces from Judea, Samaria and Gaza — of abandoning those areas to the control of the murderous organization that is called the PLO.” See The Israel-Arab Reader, pp. 605-8. The PLO was also absent from the articles dealing with the

182

Notes to pp. 94-95 Palestinian problem within the context of the September 17, 1978 Camp David agreements. de

73

74 US

76 Ta

78

72

Yediot Ahronot, December 17, 1979; March 2, 1983; March 3, 1982; April 13, 1982; S. K. Aburish, Arafat: From Defender to Dictator (London: Bloomsbury Publishing, 1998), pp.

158-59; Gazit, Trapped, pp. 177-216. Yarimi, “The Palestine Liberation Organization,” in MECS 1980-81, pp. 312-14. In the summer of 1981 the US administration held indirect contacts with the PLO in an effort to conclude a ceasefire along the Lebanese~—Israeli border. This is related to the escalation that culminated in the June 1982 Israeli invasion of Lebanon. Among additional undertakings, the PLO in 1979 volunteered to utilize its close relations with the regime of revolutionary Iran and to mediate a conclusion to the American hostage crisis in Tehran. The offer was not rejected by the administration, yet was discarded by the Iranian regime. Arafat, who was the first foreign leader to visit Iran after Ayatollah Khomeini seized power, came to Tehran in February 1980. See W. Christopher et al., American Hostages in Iran: The Conduct of a Crisis (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1985), pp. 68, 78-79; C. P. Ioanides, “The Revolution,” American Arab Affairs, no. 10 (1989): 89-104.

PLO

and

the Iranian

In the years 1980-81, Saudi financial aid to the PLO was about $200 million. Most of the money was transferred to Fatah. See Susser in MECS 1979-80, pp. 254-55; Yarimi, “The Palestine Liberation Organization,” p. 312. This was in fact the first stage of a dialogue between Fatah and the Israeli political establishment. Earlier contacts were conducted with anti-Zionist Israeli figures. In 1976 and 1977 a Fatah delegation, headed by Dr. Isam Sartawi, held a series of meetings with representatives of the Israeli Council for Israeli-Palestinian Peace, headed by a general in the reserves, Mati Peled. Arafat authorized the meetings, which were mediated by French leftwing figures. Still, the talks were denounced by leading Fatah members, including Faruq Qaddumi— head of Fatah’s political department, as well as by organizations affiliated with the rejectionist front, including the DFLP and Sa’iqa. In any case, Fatah’s representatives to the talks refused to accept a proposal that was made by Member of Knesset Uri Avneri, according to which the organization would give up violence for diplomacy. In 1977, Fatah’s growing mindfulness to the issue of Israeli Arabs was marked by a meeting held between representatives of the organization and Israeli communists. In 1980, Fatah members met with members of the Israeli Democratic Front for Peace and Equality while at a conference in Bulgaria. No denial or protest on the part of the PLO’s leadership followed the meeting. However, Sartawi, who defied the PLO’s official line when he conferred with Zionist politicians, was forced to resign in April 1981. Gresh, The PLO, pp. 219-20. Excerpts from the Venice Declaration of the European Council, June 13, 1980, in The

Israel-Arab Reader, pp. 621-22. The Venice Declaration posed concerns for Israeli decision-makers. Still, the Israeli position was only indirectly relevant to the position of thePLO on the matter by influencing the related stances of the US administration and Arab states. The main bones of contention on the PNC’s agenda were issues that concerned the pending proposal for establishing a government in exile; recognition ofIsrael; relations with Jordan; the proposed autonomy in the territories and the course of violent struggle there and in other arenas. See G. Ben Dor, “The PLO and the Palestinians,” in The War in Lebanon, CSS Memorandum no. 8 (Tel Aviv: [Jaffee] Center for Strategic Studies at Tel Aviv University, 1983), pp. 24-42. The final statement of the PNC session can be found in MECS 1980-81, pp. 315-17. Prince Fahd Ibn al-Aziz’s plan, August 7, 1981, in The Israel—Arab Reader, pp. 623-24. See also Sela, The Decline of the Arab-Israeli Conflict, pp. 274-80. Arafat was encouraged to accept the Fahd plan by the persistent Saudi call upon the American administration to recognize the PLO, as well as by Saudi support for recognition of the organization in diverse

183

Notes to pp. 96-98

international forums, such as the International Monetary Fund. Fatah also received the

lion’s share of Saudi financial support for the PLO. As a gesture to the Saudi monarchy, the PLO

80 81

established

an Islamic

Department.

See Yarimi,

“The

Palestine

Liberation

Organization,” p. 312. For the deliberations of the Amman summit, see Sela, Unity within Conflict in the InterArab System, pp. 211-36. On the dilemmas that were facing the PLO due to inter-state tensions in the region, including the discord between Iraq and Syria and the war between Iraq and Iran, see A/Hawadith, November 9, 1979; Al-Majala, November 1, 1980.

82 83

84

85

86

87

88

89

Abu lyad, My Home, My Land, pp. 214-15. R. Khalidi, Under Siege: PLO Decisionmaking During the 1982 War (New Y ork: Columbia University Press, 1986), p. 23.

In particular, the following groups grew considerably: the Palestinian Red Crescent, Samed (The Palestinian Martyrs Works Society), the General Union of Palestinian Workers, and the General Union of Palestinian Women. On the PLO as a financial power and the implications of its wealth on further regulative entrenchment see Aburish, Arafat, p. 163; Ben Rafael, Israel and Palestine, pp. 119-36; Khalidi, Under Siege, pp. 28-33; Brynen, Sanctuary and Survival, pp. 136-43. For more on the tension between Fatah and the communities of the refugee camps, see: J. Peteet, “Socio-Political Integration and Conflict Resolution in the Palestinian Camps in Lebanon,” Journal of Palestine Studies 16, no. 2 (1987): 30-44; R. Sayigh, Palestinians: From Peasants to Revolutionaries (London: Zed Press, 1979). The phenomenon of misconduct was harshly denounced by organizations’ leaderships. Yet leaders were either unwilling or unable to do much to restrain such misconduct, which proliferated against the backdrop of corruption and the absence of an effective central government. See Sayigh, Armed Struggle and the Search for State, pp. 495-96. M. Steinberg, “Palestinian Organizations’ Perceptions of the Armed Struggle,” Ma’arachot (July 1982): 2-6 [Hebrew]; “Fatah’s Political Platform,” in R. Israeli (ed.), PLO in Lebanon: Selected Documents (London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1983), pp. 12-18. Since April 1979, Major Haddad, commander of the Israeli-sponsored SLA, declared the enclave under his control to be “free Lebanon.” See Rabinovich, The War for Lebanon, 1970-1983, pp. 111-12. As in Jordan in the late 1960s, the shooting aimed at demonstrating dedication to the armed struggle at a time of effective inability to carry out ground assaults. Use of advanced weapons, in addition to enhanced coordination among the diverse units, enabled intensive and sometimes simultaneous shelling. During the period between September 1980 and

March

90

1981, Palestinian organizations carried out four cross-border raids and sixteen

shelling attacks. The artillery units were staffed with combatants who had been trained in the USSR and other Soviet-bloc states. During this period the IDF carried out thirty-one raids into Lebanon. See Brynen, Sanctuary and Survival, pp. 136-43; Israeli, PLO in Lebanon, pp. 26-31; internal Fatah document, captured in one of the organization’s headquarters in Sidon, dealing with military courses taken by Palestinian cadres in Eastern bloc States, translated and published by IDF spokesperson’s office, June 23, 1982; Yaniv, Dilemmas of Security, pp. 75-80. According to Sayigh (Armed Struggle and the Search for State, p. 496), citing the Israeli Chief of Staff Rafael Eitan, by July 1979 Israel had conducted a total of 1,020 “preventive operations” inside Lebanon since the beginning of the year. On related dynamics in the Israeli government, see Feldman, “Israel in Lebanon,” pp. 138-152; Schiff and Yaari, Israel’s Lebanon

91

War, pp. 21-39.

An American initiative to mediate a truce was aborted in September 1979. See Susser, in MECS 1979-80, p. 253. Israel conceded to international pressure and temporarily reduced

184

Notes to pp. 98-100

22 93

94

o5

the volume of the campaign against the Palestinian stronghold. Resumption of the attacks, however, followed a spectacular cross-border raid at Kibbutz Misgav Am in the northern Galilee (April 7, 1980) by the Iraqi-sponsored ALF. R. Khalidi, Under Siege, pp. 17-41; H. Sirriyeh, Lebanon: Dimensions of Conflict, Adelphi Papers 243, IISS (London: Brassey’s, 1989). Nabih Berri, who was elected chairman of Amal’s Command Council in 1980, declared an all-out war against the PLO, blaming the organization for the suffering of the population of the south. Amal also refused to join the PLO-LNM joint command. Fatah’s attempts to defuse the tension were frustrated by the PFLP, DFLP, and ALF, which perceived Amal to be a tool of Damascus to weaken Palestinian ascendance in the LNM. At times, the tension between Amal and the Palestinian factions culminated in armed skirmishes. For more on the logic that was underlying Israeli resolve to reinforce the alliance with Jumayyil’s Lebanese Forces, see: Feldman, “Israel in Lebanon,” pp. 129-161; Schiff and Yaari, Israel's Lebanon War, pp. 66-85; Yaniv, Dilemmas of Security, pp. 81-85. R. Avi Ran (ed.), The War of Lebanon — Arab Documents, Vol. 1: The Road to War (Tel Aviv: Ma’arachot, 1987), pp. 15-60 [Hebrew); Y. Evron, War and Intervention in Lebanon: The Israeli-Syrian Deterrence Dialogue (London: Croom Helm, 1987), pp. 60-104; I. Rabinovich and H. Zamir,

War and Crisis in Lebanon 1975-1981

(Tel Aviv: Hakibbutz

Hameuhad, 1982), pp. 48-53 [Hebrew]; M. Tlas (ed.), The Israeli Invasion of Lebanon (Tel Aviv: Ma’arachot, 1988), pp. 68-76 [Hebrew]. 96 In all other respects, the American effort to defuse the tension failed. Syria did not remove its anti-aircraft missiles from Lebanon and extended its pressure on the Christian forces. In the aftermath of the showdown, the links between the Israeli security forces and the Phalanges were further fortified. See Sela, The Decline of the Arab-Israeli Conflict, pp.

252-SS. oF) According to Brynen, about three-quarters of the PLO’s annual budget of several hundred million dollars were spent on construction and relief projects. According to Susser (MECS 1981-82, p. 325), Fatah allocated about 18 million pounds to relief projects in Beirut and in the south. 98 Z. Lanir and E. Dobronsky, Appointments in Rashidiya (Tel Aviv: Dvir, 1983), pp. 87-100 [Hebrew]; Schiff and Yaari, [srael’s Lebanon War, pp. 129-30. A. Yariv, “The Effects on Israel’s Strategic Situation,” in The War in Lebanon, pp. 3-23. 99 The PLO’s General Mobilization Law, in MECS 1980-81, pp. 318-19. In the early 1980s Fatah’s bureaucratic infrastructure reportedly numbered about 8,000 (Brynen, Sanctuary and Survival, pp. 136-43; Kimmerling and Migdal, Palestinians, p. 207). It should be noted that the consolidation of the military bases facilitated the institutionalization of the PLO as a prominent source of inspiration and logistical support for Arab and non-Arab organizations, which were seeking to alter the balance of political power in their home countries. Particularly active in the sphere of international links were Fatah and the PFLP. Among the organizations whose members underwent training in Palestinian bases on Lebanese soil were a string of Turkish organizations: Dev Genc, Dev Yol, The Turkish People’s Liberation Army (TPLF). Additional organizations (INF) and Mujahiddin Khalq; also West German Red Army Faction,

(TPLA), and The Turkish People’s Liberation Front were the Iranian Tudeh, the Iranian National Front hosted by Fatah and the PFLP were members of the IRA, and the Basque ETA. See Amos, Palestinian Resistance, pp. 238-44. On the training services that were provided in PLO bases to El Salvadoran guerrillas see Yediot Ahronot, May 17, 1982; Ma’ariv, March 18, 1982; AFP, in FBIS, March 18, 1982. On conscription of Arab nationals to the ranks of Palestinian organizations, see Israeli, PLO in Lebanon, pp. 182-85. On links with Egyptian fundamentalists, see Ha'aretz, May 25, 1982. 100 Reportedly the fortification in the post-Operation Litani era brought the number of

185

Notes to pp. 100-1

Palestinian combatants in Lebanon to about 15,000, most of them affiliated with Fatah. As in the sphere of political institutionalization, even together other organizations failed to match the organization’s strength. The major military force was positioned in and around the three large refugee camps in the vicinity of Beirut — Sabra, Shatila, and Burj al-Barajneh, and along the coastal strip, in and around the towns of Damour, Sidon, and Tyre. Another significant deployment was located between the towns Hasbaiya and Rachaiya. Additional 1,500 fighters were positioned near Syrian positions in this area, which was specifically called “Fatahland,” and about 500 trained combatants were positioned north of Marjayoun, in the area of Achiye, which controlled the roads leading to the Be’ka. Another

force was deployed in the area of the Beaufort Castle, in the area of Nabatiyyeh, in southern Lebanon. About 700 fighters were positioned near Jouaiya, within the area under the control of UNIFIL. In total, Fatah’s force numbered about 9,000 men, while about 2,000 belonged to Sa’iqa, about 1,000 to the PFLP, 1,000 to the DFLP, 250 to the PFLP-GC, 500 to ALF, 200 to the PPSF, and about 250 to the PLF. See A. Susser, “The Palestine

101

102

103 104

105

106 107 108

109

Liberation Organization,” in MECS 1979-80, p. 262; R. A. Gabriel, Operation Peace for Galilee: The Israeli-PLO War in Lebanon (New York: Hill and Wang, 1984), pp. 47-53. During the period from May to July 1981 about 1,200 instances of artillery shooting on the Galilee were recorded. In the course of two weeks of battle, six Israeli citizens were killed and dozens were wounded. See Avi Ran, The War of Lebanon — Arab Documents, Vol. 1 : pp. 61-149. Between 100 and 175 Lebanese were killed. See Brynen, Sanctuary and Survival, pp. 149-53. See also order issued by the PLO’s Supreme Military Council to concentrate on the destruction of Israeli communities in the Galilee, in Israeli, PLO in Lebanon, pp. 26-31. On the various interpretations of the terms of the ceasefire, see W. V. O’Brien, Law and Morality in Israel’s War with the PLO (New York and‘ London: Routledge, 1991), pp. 134-39. The previous five major showdowns were the wars of 1948, 1956, 1967, 1973, and the Litani Operation in 1978. On the resumption of the US-PLO dialogue see A. Susser, “The Palestine Liberation Organization,” in MECS 1981-82, pp. 326-28. Notably, the Reagan administration remained adamant in its support of the Israeli government, despite Egyptian and Saudi pressures to endorse a more evenhanded approach towards Middle Eastern politics. Related pressures, which had increased following the June 1981 IAF attack against the Iraqi Tammuz nuclear reactor, then under construction north of Baghdad, resulted in a delay in the delivery of F-16 combat aircraft from the US to Israel. On the relations between Begin’s government and the Reagan administration during this period, see Arnon-Ohana and Yodfat, PLO: A Portrait of an Organization, pp. 163-65; Quandt, Peace Process, pp. 338-39. The summer of 1981 saw an upsurge of bombing attacks against Palestinian (and LNM) targets in Lebanon. The IDF, the SLA, and the Lebanese army were blamed for these attacks. See Brynen, Sanctuary and Survival, pp. 136-43. Gazit, Trapped, pp. 104-6; Susser, “The Palestine Liberati on Organization,” p. 323. On a joint statement that was issued by Arafat and Walid Junblat, see Voice of Palestine, in FBIS, July 22, 1981. Related efforts involved pressure on Arab governments to have the US administration constrain Israel. Notably, related ventures were perceiv ed by Arafat’s opponents inside Fatah as indicating an intent to achieve a political settleme nt under US auspices, and interpreted this as an expression ofstrategic defeatism. Schiff and Yaari, Israel's Lebanon War, pp. 137-42. Z. Lanir, “Testing the PLO’s Strategy ofViolent Struggl e: The War of‘Peace for Galilee,” Maarachot (September 1982): 10-23 [Hebrew].

186

Notes to pp. 101-2 110 Said, The Politics of Dispossession, pp. 43-51; Sayigh, Armed Struggle and the Search for State, pp. 478-84. 111 The pretext for the intensification ofthe air raids was attacks which, for the most part, were perpetrated against SLA positions in southern Lebanon. For records ofincidents that took place on the Lebanese scene, allegedly in violation of the ceasefire, see IDF spokesperson, June 5, 1982, June 6, 1982. According to these reports, during the weeks that had preceded the invasion of Lebanon, Palestinian organizations were responsible for either perpetrating or attempting some 290 attacks. Of these, 110 took place in the territories, ninety-nine in Lebanon, fifty-seven in Israel proper, four in Jordan, and twenty in the international arena. Concurrent efforts to defuse the tension included reinforcing UNIFIL with about 635 additional French soldiers. See Ha'aretz, May 26, 1982. The text of the cabinet’s statement can be found in Rabinovich, The War for Lebanon, 1970-1983, pp. 221-22. 12 For accounts ofthe situational determinants that facilitated the concrete decision to invade Lebanon, principally the conclusion, several weeks earlier, of the Israeli withdrawal from Sinai and the completion ofthe terms associated with the Israeli-Egyptian peace treaty, see Evron, War and Intervention in Lebanon, pp. 105-33; Feldman, “Israel in Lebanon,” pp. 142-45. Another encouraging factor was the US administration’s refusal to compel the Israeli government to bring the settlement enterprise in the territories to a halt and to comply with a United Nations Security Council resolution against the December 1981 annexation of the Golan Heights. See G. W. Ball, Error and Betrayal in Lebanon: An Analysis of Israel’s Invasion of Lebanon and the Implications for US-Israeli Relations (Washington DC: Foundation for Middle East Peace, 1984). Yet another determinant was Arab states’ inaction in response to the June 1981 IAF attack against the Iraqi nuclear reactor and its annexation, six months later, of the Golan Heights. Notwithstanding all these facilitating determinants, the Israeli government was still aware of the need to obtain American consent for the invasion. Thus, an intense diplomatic campaign was launched during the preceding months, aimed at convincing the administration that the PLO was persistently violating the July 1981 ceasefire. See Rabinovich, The War for Lebanon, 1970-1983, pp. 125-27. 113 Elaboration on the Israeli decision-making process prior to the initiation of the invasion and in the course of the war goes far beyond the scope of the present discussion. For now it should be stressed that the narrower version of Sharon’s plan (what in Israel came to be known as the “small plan”), which was accepted by the government, “precluded the ambitious idea of landing troops in Junieh (north of Beirut) and of attacking the Beirut area from the north. It also dictated a slower move against the Syrians in the Be’ka Valley, and precluded the possibility of landing heliborne troops in strategic positions on the BeirutDamascus highway.” The “big plan,” on the other hand, aimed at expelling all foreign armies from Lebanon and installing a new Lebanese government, which would sign a peace treaty with Israel. See S. Feldman, and H. Rechnitz-Kijner, Deception, Consensus and War: Israel in Lebanon, JCSS Paper no. 27 (Tel Aviv: Jaffee Center Aviv University, 1984); A. Naor, in S. Meir (ed.), Lebanon Records of aJCSS Conference (Tel Aviv: A. M. Publishing, Rabinovich, The War for Lebanon, 1970-1983, pp. 122-34;

for Strategic Studies at Tel War — A View From 1987: 1988), pp. 76-79 [Hebrew]; Schiff and Yaari, Jsrael’s

Lebanon War, pp. 93-124; A. Yariv, “War by Choice — War by No Choice,” in War by Choice (Tel Aviv: Jaffee Center for Strategic Studies and Hakibbutz Hameuhad, 1985), pp. 9-29 [Hebrew]. 114 Estimates of civilian casualties vary considerably. According to reliable sources, such as Time Magazine’s Jerusalem Bureau (cited by Gabriel, Operation Peace for Galilee, pp. 121-22), about 3,000—5000 people were killed in the south and 70,000—80,000 lost their homes. About 1,400 of the people killed were Palestinian fighters. More than 1,000 Palestinian cadres were killed in the battles for Beirut. It was also estimated that

187

Notes to pp. 102-3 4,000—5,000 civilians were killed by military actions in the course of the siege (Gabriel, Operation Peace for Galilee, pp. 164-65). As Gabriel noted, “there is no doubt that the number of dead civilians in Beirut exceeded the number of military casualties by about six to one.” According to Sayigh (Armed Struggle and the Search for State, p. 540), “Lebanese police statistics showed a total of 17,825 dead and 30,203 wounded . . . The PLO stated that 560 Palestinian and Lebanese militiamen may also have died,” while Israeli sources reported between 2,000 and 3,000 dead PLO members. The IDF announced the loss of 368 soldiers and 2,383 wounded on all fronts, besides some fifty sol-

diers killed in combat accidents. The number of Syrian soldiers killed was between 1,200 (Sayigh, Armed Struggle and the Search for State, p. 540) and 2,000 (Gabriel, Operation Peace for Galilee, p. 164). Ils) On debates inside the US administration concerning the response to the Israeli invasion of Lebanon, see Quandt, Peace Process, pp. 340-44. On Soviet pressure on the administration to compel the IDF to halt the anti-Syrian campaign, see Rabinovich, The War for Lebanon, 1970-1983, pp. 147-48. ; 116 On the war conduct see M. T. Davis, 40 km. into Lebanon (Washington DC: A National Security Affairs Monograph, 1987); M. Heller and D. Tamari, “The War in Lebanon,” in M. Heller et al. (eds.), The Middle East Military Balance 1983 (Tel Aviv: Jaffee Center for Strategic Studies at Tel Aviv University, 1983), pp. 7-16; Y. Sayigh (“Israel’s Military Performance in Lebanon,” Journal of Palestine Studies 13, no. 1 (1984): 24-65; Schiff and Yaari, /srael’s Lebanon War, pp. 144-235. 117 In mid-June, President Sarkis established the Committee of National Salvation, in order to facilitate evacuation of the PLO. Arguably, Arafat was prompted to evacuate Beirut by the fierce air and ground assaults, which had been carried out by the IDF on August 4 and 12, and more specifically by the effect of these assaults on Lebanese public opinion towards the PLO’s presence in the city. Notably, the devastating consequences of these attacks generated a turning point since they intensified disputes inside the Israeli government and between the Israeli government and the American administration concerning the future course of the war. During the siege, the Reagan administration became increasingl y interested in advancing the evacuation of the PLO from Lebanon as means to promote the creation of a pro-Western Lebanon, and thus to reduce Soviet influence in the region and facilitate the goal of a regional settlement. The multinational force, in any case, left Lebanon following two simultaneous bombing attacks on October 23, 1983 by Hizbollah against the Beirut headquarters of the American and French forces. On the making of the PLO’s decision to leave Beirut, see Khalidi, Under Siege, pp. 131-65. On the inter-Arab dynamic concerning the evacuation of the PLO from Beirut, see Sela, The Decline of the Arab-Israeli Conflict, pp. 258-61. On the preparations for the evacuation from Beirut, see N. Novik, “The United States in Lebanon: Unfulfilled Expectations,” in J, Alpher (ed.),

Israel's Lebanon Policy: Where To? JCSS Memorandum no. 12 (Tel Aviv: Jaffee Center for Strategic Studies at Tel Aviv University, 1984), pp. 24-30. 118 Syria accepted the largest contingent of Palestinian troops — all of Sa’iqa’s forces, several PLA units and some members of Fatah. South Yemen accepted members of the PFLP and the DFLP. Iraq accepted the pro-Iraqi factions, and Jordan accepted members of Badr Brigade. Tunisia accepted the PLO’s political leadership and several fighting contingents of Fatah, provided that no military activities would be practiced within Tunisian territory. See Susser in MECS /98/-82, p. 350; “The Deployment of Palestinian Organizations in Lebanon and Other Arab Countries,” Israel Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Jerusalem, November 23, 1984.

119 Fouad Ajami referred to the years 1972-82 as the “Palest inian decade in Lebanon,” in The Dream Palace of the Arabs: A Generation’s Odyssey (New York: Vintage Books, 1998), p. 84). At the same time, the invasion began what would ultimately become Israel’s two

188

Notes to pp. 104-7 Lebanese decades, that is, nearly two decades of Israeli military presence on Lebanese soil (June 1982—May 2000). 9

The Seventh Institutional Phase, 1983-1987: Time Out

1 2 3 4

Said, The Politics of Dispossession, p. 7. Z. Eitan, “The Palestinian Armed Forces After Beirut,” The Jerusalem Quarterly no. 32 (1984): 131-39. George Habash’s assessment ofthe lessons of the war, in Al-Hadaf, June 9, 1986; an interview with Nayif Hawatmeh, A/-Qabas, September 29, 1982. H.C. Kelman, “Talk with Arafat,” Foreign Policy no. 49 (1982-83): 119-39. Allegations as to readiness on the part of Fatah’s mainstream to articulate a political initiative were reported in the immediate aftermath ofthe war. Related reports, in any case, were dismissed by Israeli officials and perceived to be merely gimmicks. See, for instance, The Jerusalem Post, November 3, 1982; Wall Street Journal, November 9, 1982.

5 6 7

Interview aired on October 29, 1985. Palestinian News Agency, January 2, 1986, in Briefing 108/17.1.86/3/09/051, Israel Ministry of Foreign Affairs — Information Division, Jerusalem. See, for instance, an interview with Nayif Hawatmeh, Radio Monte Carlo, February 18, 1983; L. Jenkins, “Arafat’s PLO Once Again Rides Crest of Defeat,” in Washington Post,

December 28, 1982. On the cooperation with the USSR and other radical forces see, for example, an interview with Faruq Qaddumi in A/-Anba’, April 15, 1986. 8

9

International Herald Tribune, December 21, 1982; D. Dishon, “Jordan and the PLO,” Skira

Hodshit 30, no. 4 (1983): 3-7 [Hebrew]. On efforts to convince rejectionist factions to participate in the seventeenth PNC see, for instance, interview with Abu lyad, A/-Watan, September 5, 1984. Text of the PNC Political Committee report adopted on November 29, 1984, Voice of Palestine, December 1, 1984. Arafat’s address to the PNC session in Amman, Amman Home Service, November 22, 1984.

10

11

Full text of Reagan’s speech in The Israel—Arab Reader, pp. 656-63. As to the Israeli settlement issue: in 1982, the number of Israeli settlers in the territories was about 20,000. By 1998, the number was about 160,000. “The PLO, as stressed through a number of statements by its leader, Yasir Arafat, and a

number of PLO officials, believes that dialogue with the USA is useful, being one of the political moves designed to bolster the PLO’s position as the sole representative of the Palestinian people and to draw attention to the Palestinian issue as a central issue in the Middle East.” However, the commentator went on to note: “Reagan’s plan, in style and content, does not respect the established national rights of the Palestinian people since it denies the right of return and self-determination and the setting up of [an] independent Palestinian state and also the PLO — the sole legitimate representative of the Palestinian people — and since it contradicts international legality. Therefore, the PLO rejects the considering of this plan as a sound basis for the just and lasting solution of the cause ofthe Palestinian and the Arab-Zionist conflict.” (In commentary on the Jordan—US dialogue, broadcast on Voice of Palestine, August 14, 1984.) See also PNC: Political Statement

12

(Algiers, February 22, 1983), in The Israel-Arab Reader, pp. 679-83. On the deliberations at the Fez summit, see Sela, Unity within Conflict in the Inter-Arab System, pp. 257-62.

13.

The Twelfth

14. 15

Israel—Arab Reader, pp. 663-65. B. Rubin, “United It Stalls: The PLO,” in The Israel-Arab Reader, pp. 683-86. Atthe same time, striving to appease Damascus, the sixteenth PNC reaffirmed the “importance of the strategic relationship between the PLO and Syria in the service of the

Arab

Summit

Conference:

Final Statement

189

(September

9, 1982), in The

Notes to pp. 107-8 nationalist and pan-Arab interests of struggle . . . in light of the PLO’s and Syria’s constituting the vanguard in the face of the common danger,” in The Israel-Arab Reader, pp. 679-83. The Israeli-sponsored alternative community leadership was called the Village League (or “rural association”). Sponsored by the civil administration, the League was designed to challenge the local pro-Jordan or pro-PLO leaderships. Many of the League’s members quit their positions following threats by Jordan that they would be charged with treason under Jordanian law if they failed to do so. See M. Litvak and E. Rekhess, “The West Bank

18

19 20

21

Ds

and Gaza Strip,” in MECS 1981-82, pp. 360-62. Public statements by Israeli politicians who propagated the idea that “Jordan was Palestine” created concern over new waves of migration from the West to the East Bank of the Jordan River. A prominent proponent of this stance was Ariel Sharon, then minister of defense. See Gazit, Trapped, pp. 116-20. El-Hassan Bin Talal, “Jordan’s Quest for Peace,” in The Israel—-Arab Reader, pp. 665-70. Jordan shared Syria’s opposition to separate agreements between Arab states and Israel, and would have preferred an international conference with Soviet participation. Syria and Jordan also accepted UNSCR 242 and 338. However, Syria claimed that the time was not ripe for negotiations, because Israel showed no sign of readiness to withdraw from the Golan Heights. See speech by President Asad (March 8, 1980), in The Israel—Arab Reader, pp. 619-21; A. Yaniv, “The PLO, the Middle East, and the World,” Middle East Review (Fall 1985): 51-56. On Jordan’s refusal to join the Reagan peace initiative (April 10, 1983), see The Israel-Arab Reader, pp. 686-91. Text of the Jordan—-PLO agreement from Amman Home Service, February 23, 1985. Seeking to limit the influence of the PLO on the policies of the Palestinian party, Jordan insisted that West Bank Palestinians participate in the delegation. Preparing for eventual talks with the US administration, the PLO published a list of Palestinians intended to form part of the Jordanian/Palestinian delegation. See Defense & Foreign Affairs Daily, July 24, 1985. For official PLO affirmation of commitment to the Amman agreement, see Voice of Palestine, October 26, 1985; R. Khalidi, “The Palestinian Dilemma: PLO Policy After Lebanon,” Journal of Palestine Studies 15, no. 1 (1985): 88-103.

Close to the demise of the agreement, Farug Qaddumi, one ofthe formula’s strongest opponents, said: “we have differed with Jordan on the interpretation of the Amman agreement right from the beginning. While Jordan agrees to Resolution 242, we do not recognize this resolution because it does not recognize us.” Qaddumi in an interview, Voice of Palestine, October 25, 1985. See also warnings against members of the Jordanian—Palestinia n delegation to the US-sponsored talks, which were issued by the PNSF. In May 1983 a peace agreement, which included a request for Syrian withdrawa l from Lebanon, was concluded between Israel and the government of Bashir Jumayyil. In the ensuing months, Fatah forces actively participated in the war that was waged by Syria against the Maronite establishment. In April 1984, under Syrian pressure, the Lebanese government invalidated the agreement. Text of the Israeli-Lebanese agreement in The Israel—Arab Reader, pp. 691-94. It has been argued that a series ofofficial appointments ordered by Arafat were the immediate cause ofthe rebellion. Also criticized was Arafat’s endeavor to conclude an agreement with Hussein. A. M. Garfinkle, “Sources of the Al-Fatah Mutiny,” Orbis 27, no. 3 (1983): 603-40; R. A. Hinnebusch, “Syrian Policy in Lebanon and the Palestinians,” Arab Studies

Quarterly 8, no. 1 (1986): 1-20: A. Merari, “The Fatah Rebellion and the Future of the PLO,” in M. Heller et al. (eds.), The Middle East Military Balance 1984 (Tel Aviv: Jaffee

Center for Strategic Studies at Tel Aviv University, 1984); Sayigh, Armed Struggle and the Search for State, pp. 561-73.

190

| 24

23

26 27

28

29

30 31

32

Notes to pp. 108-9 Concurrently, the Syria-backed FRC carried an assassination campaign against PLO officials and Jordanian diplomats. Scheduled meetings between Western officials and PLO representatives in London, Luxembourg, and the UN were cancelled against the backdrop of the tension caused by the violent dimension of the struggle, particularly due to attacks carried out in the international arena. In October 1985, the British Foreign Office cancelled a scheduled meeting with the joint Palestinian—Jordanian delegation. On Fatah’s political ebb see Voice of Palestine, October 15, 1985; interview with Arafat on BBC, October 31, 1985. AP, January 1, 1986, in Israel Foreign Ministry Briefing, January 17, 1986; Ha’aretz, October 20, 1986. While in 1984-85 Arab objectives formed the primary target for violent assaults, 1986 saw a shift of focus to American and Israeli targets. Several incidents bore the traces of state involvement. Major assaults perpetrated by Abu Nidal’s FRC in 1986 included a bombing attack that destroyed the offices of the German—Arab Friendship Society in West Berlin (March 29); an explosion on a TWA airliner while over Greece (April 2); the occupation of aPan Am plane in the Karachi airport (September 4); and an assault on a synagogue in Istanbul (September 6). An attempt to blow up an El Al airliner, carried out by Abu Musa’s faction, was foiled in Madrid on June 26. On April 16, 1986, a plan to blow up an El Al airliner was foiled at London’s Heathrow Airport (it was later learned that officials at the Syrian embassy in London assisted the terrorist). The attack against a discotheque frequented by American soldiers on April 5, 1986 in West Berlin triggered an American air strike against strategic targets in Tripoli and Benghazi, Libya (April 15). See A. Kurz, “Middle Eastern Terrorism,” in A. Levran et al. (eds.), The Middle East Military Balance 1986 (Jerusalem: The Jerusalem Post and Jaffee Center for Strategic Studies at Tel Aviv University, 1987), pp. 55-64. Text of Cairo declaration, Cairo Home Service, November 7, 1985. Three days later, however, Abu Iyad explained (BBC, November 10, 1985) that “when we say occupied Palestine . . . we consider all Palestine as occupied . . . our resistance will be everywhere inside the territory — and that is, not defined in terms of the West Bank and Gaza alone.” Notably, Arafat yielded to Mubarak’s pressure following the exposure of Fatah’s involvement in international terrorism, including lethal attacks against Israeli targets in Barcelona and Larnaca by Fatah’s Force 17. As noted by Asher Susser, Arafat was actually “seeking to shoot his way to the conference table” (The Jerusalem Post, Ocotber 18, 1986). On October 7, 1985, an Italian cruise ship, the Achille Lauro, was hijacked near Alexandria, Egypt, by members of the PLF. Egyptian authorities who negotiated with the

hijackers allowed a PLF leader and a member of the PLO, Abu al-Abbas and Hani alHasan, to participate in the negotiations. The terrorists left the ship after being guaranteed safe passage out of Egypt. However, US jets intercepted their plane and forced it to land in Sicily. Italian authorities released Abu al-Abbas shortly after. Israel, for its part, reacted with an air strike against the headquarters of the PLO in Tunis. Both sides signaled that the radical path was a viable option to be taken in case the joint venture was aborted. See H. Raviv, “Syria, Jordan and the PLO: One Out of Three,” Bamahane 16 (December 18, 1985): 12 [Hebrew]. Reportedly (Yediot Ahronot, April 13, 1987), the agreement was officially annulled by Fatah in April 1984. Voice of Palestine, November 3, 1986. Following the expulsion from Amman of Force 17, the elite commando unit of Fatah established new headquarters in Cairo. See The Jerusalem Post, January 1, 1986. Commenting on the closure of PLO offices in Amman (Voice of Palestine, July 10, 1986), Arafat illustrated the Jordanian venture as a strategic mistake, and blamed the monarchy

191

Notes to pp. 109-12

33

34

for exploiting Arab preoccupation with the Iran-Iraq war and the absorption of the resistance in the “camps war” in Lebanon. Nor was unity in the ranks the only asset to be endangered. Related risks also concerned the personal safety of representatives associated with the pragmatic line. In the late 1970s (in the aftermath of the peace treaty between Israel and Egypt), radical Arab states and rejectionist Palestinian organizations launched a campaign against moderate Fatah members who held talks with Israeli political figures. Notable among the victims were Sa’id Hammami, who was murdered in London in 1978, and Isam Sartawi, who was murdered

in 1983. Particularly under attack were the camps of Sabra, Shatila, and Burj el-Barajneh. On September 18, 1982, shortly after the evacuation from Beirut of the Palestinian troops, the Phalanges attacked the Sabra and Shatila refugee camps. Without any interference from Israeli soldiers, whose positions were overlooking the camps, militiamen conducted a mass massacre of the defenseless residents of the camps. Estimates as to the number of people massacred ranged from several hundred to several thousand. See interview with Amos Gilad, Yediot Ahronot Magazine, August 24, 2001; Sayigh, Armed Struggle and the Search for State, pp. 538-39. Notably, it was the reaction ofthe Israeli public to the massacre that hastened a government decision to order withdrawal of the IDF from Beirut to the outskirts of the city. Excerpts from the report of the Kahan Commission to investigate the massacre at the Sabra and Shatila refugee camps in The Israel—Arab Reader, pp. 670-75. On the “camps war” see R. Pedatzur, “Back to Lebanon,” Ha'aretz, February 24, 1985; Yasir Arafat on the Beirut Camp War, in Voice of Palestine, June 3, 1986; A. Susser, The PLO

35

36 37

38 39 40

4]

after the War in Lebanon: The Quest for Survival (Tel Aviv: Hakibbutz Hameuhad, 1985) [Hebrew]. As Sayigh (Armed Struggle and the Search for State, p. 601) noted: “Arafat’s provocative strategy during the camps war in Lebanon had succeeded, above all by transforming the internal crisis of the PLO into a nationalist struggle with Syria over the autonomy of Palestinian political will and decision-making.” On the reconciliation between the pragmatic and the radical factions see A/-Hadaf, December 1, 1986, interview with Hawatmeh, Al-Halij, April 19, 1986, interview with Farug Qaddumi, A/-Anba’, April 15, 1986. Notably, the most extremist factions did not reconcile with the PLO. See, for example, an interview with Ahmed Jibril, head of the PFLP-GC, in A/-Bayan, June 1, 1986. Aburish, Arafat, pp. 194-98; Wall Street Journal, July 21, 1986. The PLO’s headquarters were transferred to Baghdad following the evacuation of the managerial infrastructure from Amman. Various branches were relocated to Baghdad following an IAF attack, which was carried out in reaction to the hijacking of the Achille Lauro by the PLF. Voice of Palestine, November 26, 1985. Rekhess, in MECS 1987, pp. 253-54; Voice of Palestine, November 3, 1986; Abu Tyad in interview, Shu’un Filastiniyya, Nov-Dec.1986. On the consolidation of Islamic militancy in the territories see I. Barghouti , “Islamic Movements in Historical Palestine,” in A. S. Sidahmed, and A. Ehthesham i (eds.), [s/amic Fundamentalism (Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 1996), pp. 163-77; R. H. Dekmejian, Islam in Revolution: Fundamentalism in the Arab World, 2nd ed. (Syracuse: Syracuse University Press, 1995); Sahliyeh, In Search of Leadership: West Bank Politics Since 1967. M. Benvenisti, The West Bank Data Project: A Survey of Israel's Policies (Washington & London: American Enterprise Institute for Public Policy Research, 1984), pp. 1-18; G. Gilbar, “Demographic and Economic Developments as Causes for the Intifada,” in G. Gilbar and A. Susser (eds.), At the Core of the Conflict: The Intifada (Tel Aviv: Hakibbutz Hameuhad, 1992), pp. 20-39 [Hebrew]; S. M. Roy, The Gaza Strip Survey (Jerusalem: The West Bank Data Base Project and Cambridge: Harvard Universit y, 1986); S. A. Saleh, “The

192

Notes to pp. 112-13 Effects of Israeli Occupation on the Economy of the West Bank and Gaza Strip,” in J. R. Nassar

42

43

44 45

46 47

48 49

and R. Heacock

(eds.), Intifada:

Palestine at the Crossroads

(Birzeit:

Birzeit

University, New York: Praeger Publishers, 1991), pp. 37-51; Sayigh, Armed Struggle and the Search for State, pp. 607-9. See also Settlements of the West Bank and Gaza Strip: The State of the Affair — 1992 (Tel Aviv: The Center for Peace, 1993), pp. 11-14. Besides lacking experience in self-rule and persistent inter-organizational rivalries, the failure to consolidate national institutions in the territories has been attributed to purposeful efforts by Jordan, Israel, and the PLO to hinder the emergence of such indigenous organizations. The Council of Higher Education and the National Guidance Committee are cases in point. The Council for Higher Education was established in 1977 to meet needs created by the proliferation of universities and colleges in the territories. Jordan, Israel, and the PLO all objected to the Council’s drive to amass political influence, and therefore refrained from sponsoring its activities. Israel, for its part, arrested members of the Council who were accused of membership in another institution of national importance — The National Guidance Committee, established in November 1978 following the Israeli-Egyptian rapprochement, in order to mobilize opposition to the Camp David accord and particularly for the related autonomy plan in the territories. The committee, which was dominated by left-wing figures, included representatives of the various political currents in the territories. In 1982, the Israeli authorities disbanded the Committee as well as municipal councils and dismissed the latter’s mayors — the only elected representatives of the population, who were also explicitly pro-PLO. The PLO, for its part, began sponsoring the Council for Higher Education only after its actions had been restricted to administrative matters. In other words, the organization started using it as a means of regulative mobilization only after it no longer constituted a threat to its bid to ascendance. On the neutralizing of attempts to establish an independent leadership in the territories see L. Taraki, “The Development of Political Consciousness among Palestinians in the occupied territories, 1967-1987,” in Intifada: Palestine at the Crossroads, pp. 53-71.

The civil administration masterminded the abortive attempt to set up an alternative, proIsraeli leadership in the occupied territories — the rurally based Village League. See Gazit, Trapped, pp. 206-13. S. K. Farsoun and J. M. Landis, “The Sociology of an Uprising: The Roots ofthe Intifada,” in Intifada: Palestine at the Crossroads, pp. \5—35; Ma’oz, Palestinian Leadership on the West Bank, pp. 199-222. H. Frisch, “From Armed Struggle to Political Mobilization: Shifts in the Strategy of the PLO in the territories,” in At the Core of the Conflict, pp. 40-67; M. Litvak, Palestinian Leadership in the Territories (Tel Aviv: The Moshe Dayan Center for Middle Eastern and African Studies, Shiloah Institute, 1991). In Arabic — utur tanzimiyya, that 1s, organizational frameworks. A. Shalev, The Intifada: Causes and Effects, JCSS Study no. 16 (Jerusalem: The Jerusalem Post and Jaffee Center for Strategic Studies at Tel Aviv University, 1991). In 1986, Fatah reported sponsorship of several hundred social institutions, associations, and committees. M. Barghouti and R. Giacaman, “The Emergence of an Infrastructure of Resistance: The Case of Health,” in Intifada: Palestine at the Crossroads, pp. 73-87. In January 1982, Elias Freij, mayor of Bethlehem, launched a peace initiative based on the idea of reciprocal Israeli—Palestinian recognition. It was the first such move by a major public figure to be made since the signing of the Israeli-Egyptian peace treaty. Concurrently, Sa’ib Urayqat, a professor at Al-Najah University, challenged Palestinian intellectuals to open a dialogue with their Israeli counterparts so as to promote mutual understanding (Litvak and Rekhess, in MECS 198/-82, pp. 370-71, 375-76). A prominent advocate of the interim Jordanian option — as a step towards establishing an independent Palestinian state — was Faisal Husseini, director of the Institute of Arab Studies in

193

Notes to pp. 113-14 Jerusalem. For more on the debate between pro-PLO and pro-Jordanians in the West Bank, see Rekhess in MECS 1986, pp. 217-19). In the summer of 1987, Hana Siniora, a

prominent journalist, proposed that Arabs participate in the municipal elections of Jerusalem in order to demonstrate their power to the Israeli authorities. See Rekhess in MECS 1987, pp. 261-63; Teitelbaum, in MECS 1987, pp. 231-32. Several months prior to the eruption of the popular uprising in the territories, Husseini and Sari Nusseibeh, the latter a professor at Bir Zeit University, held discussions with Moshe Amirav, a member of the Likud Party, on ways to advance a solution to the Israeli—Palestinian conflict, P.

50

51

Inbari, The Palestinian Option: PLO versus the Zionist Challenge (Jerusalem: Carmel Publishing, 1989), pp. 114-16 [Hebrew]. These discussions, as well as other contacts that were concurrently held between Palestinians and Israelis, resulted in no concrete agreement. Nevertheless, they were quite indicative of the self-reliant pragmatism that was emerging in the territories at that time. The notion of passive resistance was explored by Mubarak Awad, head of the Jerusalembased Center for Nonviolence. See M. Steinberg, “The Demographic Factor in the Conflict with Israel — the PLO’s Perspective,” Medina, Mimshal Ve’ Yahasim Beinl ‘umiyyim 3, no. 31 (1990): 23-42 [Hebrew]. See also Sahliyeh, In Search of Leadership, pp.171—74. R. Pedatzur, “A New Kind of Terror: Recent Terrorist Actions Indicate Buds of Civil

Uprising,” Ha’aretz, July 31, 1985. In 1987, the volume and frequency of widespread disturbances dramatically increased. Riots that erupted in February in the Gaza Strip lasted for about two weeks. Demonstrations were staged in April throughout the territories, in solidarity with hungerstriking Palestinian prisoners. Also in April, riots erupted throughout the West Bank following a violent campaign by Israeli settlers, who avenged the killing of a settler in a petrol bomb attack by staging a sabotage campaign in Kalkilya. Widespread riots followed the killing in October of four Islamic Jihad activists by the security forces in Gaza. Intense clashes between pro-Jordanian and pro-PLO demonstrators coincided with the convening in November 1987 of the Arab Summit in Amman. 53 The years 1986 and 1987 witnessed intensification of the intra-communal strife between activists affiliated with national and religious organizations. 54 Such assaults became common in the mid-1980s: by 1986, they comprise d about 50 percent ofthe total recorded both in the territories and within Israel proper; Kurz, “Middle Eastern Terrorism,” pp. 55—56. 59 Statistics based on Israeli military sources showed that the assaults numbered several thousands in 1986 and 1987. A. Kurz, “Middle Eastern Terroris m,” in A. Levran (ed.), The Middle East Military Balance 1987-1988 (Jerusalem: The Jerusale m Post and Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 1988), pp. 93-113. Notably, those years also saw an increase of vigilantism among Israeli settlers in the territories. See, for instance, Rekhess, in MECS 1987, pp. 244-72. 56 Reliance on already-established cells of local organizations was a partial solution to the operational difficulties associated with the removal of the offices from Amman. Fatah collaborated with cells of the Islamic Jihad. Members of these cells were reported to have been financed by Fatah from Jordan, while training was held in Fatah camps in Lebanon and other locations in the Middle East, and in an Afghani Mujahiddin camp in Pakistan. In October 1986, Fatah and the Islamic Jihad collaborated in an attack on IDF soldiers at the Western Wall in Jerusalem. 57 The exchange was concluded between the Israeli govern ment and Jibril’s PFLP-GC, 58 On November 25, 1987, a member of thePELP-GC managed to cross the border ona glider and penetrated an army camp in the northern Galilee. Additional attempts to cross the border were carried out from Egypt. Hoping to be recognized as a participant in a regional political process, Fatah refrained from engaging in violent struggle in the international 52

194

Notes to pp. 114-16

59

arena. Notably, 1987 saw a dramatic decline in the volume of Palestinian international terrorism (only fourteen actual and attempted assaults were carried out, compared with about eighty in 1986). This reduction was attributed to firmer policies taken by Western states against state sponsors ofthe radical factions, such as Libya, Syria, and Iran (in Kurz, “Middle Eastern Terrorism,” 1988, pp. 111-13). Also in 1986, pro-Jordanian notables were nominated as mayors of major towns.

10

The Eighth Institutional Phase, 1988-1993: Political Lead, Violent Backup Abu lIyad, My Home, My Land, p. 226. A. Bishara, “The Third Factor: Impact of the Intifada on Israel,” in Intifada: Palestine at the Crossroads, pp. 271-86; Rekhess, in MECS 1987, pp. 263-65; Z. Schiff and E. Yaari, Intifada (Tel Aviv: Schocken, 1990) [Hebrew]. Interviewed in the period that preceded the eruption of the intifada, Fatah leaders mainly commented on issues related to the regional political process. See, for instance, an interview with Arafat on current affairs (in which not a word was said about the rising tension in the territories), Hatzav translation, 15.09.87/844/002; Arafat’s address to the Geneva meeting of non-governmental organizations on Palestine, Voice of Palestine, December 7, 1987; Mahmoud Abbas (Abu Mazen), however, acknowledged the uprising in an interview which was given on January 29, 1988. Voice of Palestine, January 26, 1988. The linkage between the intifada and the history of Fatah’s struggle remained a focal theme in the organization’s approach to the intifada. For instance, in Arafat’s special address noting the fifth month ofthe intifada, it was presented as “one of the waves of our blessed uprising.” See Damascus Home Service, April 10, 1988. However, lack of strategic planning for a confrontation in the territories was explicitly manifested in the concluding notes of the PLO Central Council, which met in Tunis on October 5—7. The conclusion stated that “the Council emphasized the need to draw up a comprehensive program to confront the... Zionist policy and to refer this serious matter to the forthcoming Arab summit and to international institutions and organizations.” In Voice of Palestine October 9, 1987. Interviewed by Der Spiegel, Arafat admitted that “the PLO and Arafat cannot spark the fire if the people are not interested,” Ha'aretz, December 20, 1987. For Arafat on the

popular essence of the intifada, see interview with Le Monde, January 16, 1988 (Hatzav translation, 21.1.88/844/4/973/5). Dodging a question as to the spontaneity of the intifada, Abu lyad charged that the riots had hardly surprised the PLO. See an interview with Nouveau Magazine, December 20, 1987.

Diverse sources provided different figures of the violent dimension of the uprising. However, the overall escalation of the violent struggle was reflected in all accounts. According to statistics provided by Israeli security sources, in 1987, 359 assaults (including shooting, sabotage, arson, petrol bomb assaults, the planting of explosive charges, and knifings) were recorded in the West Bank, forty-seven were recorded in Jerusalem, 145 in Gaza Strip, and sixty-nine within the pre-1967 borders. In 1988, 1,841 assaults were recorded in the West Bank, 240 in Jerusalem, 436 in Gaza, and 210 within the pre-1967 borders. See A. Kurz, “Palestinian Terrorism in 1988,” in S. Gazit (ed.), The Middle East Military Balance 1988-1989 (Jerusalem: The Jerusalem Post, Boulder, CO: Westview Press,

1990). According to IDF spokesperson figures, in 1988-89 there were 2,074 petrol bomb assaults in the territories. Notably, the majority of the incidents took place in the first year of the intifada. See A. Shalev, “The Second Year of the Intifada,” in J. Alpher (ed.), The Middle East Military Balance 1989-1990 (Tel Aviv and Boulder, CO: Jaffee Center for Strategic Studies at Tel Aviv University and Westview Press, 1990), pp. 136-37. While assaults that were perpetrated in the West Bank and Gaza Strip were primarily initiated by

195

Notes to pp. 116-18 local elements, the violent struggle within the Green Line was primarily conducted by Israeli Arabs, inspired by the unrest in the territories. In May 1988 the Israeli police reported that since the eruption of the intifada there had been an increase of about 600 percent in sabotage incidents inside Israel ( Yediot Ahronot, May 8, 1988). On the collective punishment in the West Bank and Gaza Strip see B’Tselem — The Israeli Information Center for Human Rights in the Occupied Territories (Jerusalem: November 1990); on administrative arrests, see B’Tselem, October 1992: on open-fire regulations of the security forces in the territories, see B’Tselem, July 1990. According to Sayigh (Armed Struggle and the Search for State, p. 619), Israeli sources estimated the “hard core” of activists at 10,000 to 20,000 while a leading cadre of the Shabiba

claimed it had 40,000 members. On April 16, 1988, Khalil al-Wazir was assassinated in his home in Tunis by Israeli commandos. 10 Prominent among the leaders of the UNC were Faisal Husseini, Sari Nusseibeh, Hanan Ashrawi, Ziad abu Zayyad, Radwan abu Ayyash, Hana Siniora. The higher echelon was said to comprise about forty people and the second echelon about 500. See M. Litvak, “Palestinian Leadership in the Territories during the Intifada, 1987-1992,” Orient 34, no. 2 (1993): 199-220. The secrecy of the UNC reflected not only its interest in avoiding Israeli countermeasures but also the wish to negate any impression that its members strove to supplant the PLO. S. Mishal, with R. Aharoni, Speaking Stones: The Words Behind the Palestinian Intifada (Tel Aviv: Hakibbutz Hameuhad, 1989), pp. 35-38 [Hebrew]. Full versions of the radio broadcast of the leaflets by Voice of Palestine from Baghdad and San’a were published by the BBC. 12 According to IDF spokesperson data, twenty-one Palestinians accused of collaboration with the security forces were killed by Palestinians in the first year of the intifada, followed by 138 killings in 1989, 184 in 1990, 194 in 1991, and 223 by late 1992. Ma’ariv, December 3, 1992. From the second year of the uprising, Hamas came to play a major role in the escalation of violence within the Palestinian community. Indeed, violence against other Palestinians was a central area of activity for Hamas’ military wing. Victims included persons suspected ofcollaborating with Israel or of engaging in immoral behavior, such as prostitution, drug trafficking, or the distribution of pornography. However, the Hamas leadership showed sensitivity to public criticism of the intensifying intra-Palestinian struggle, in which elements connected to the national organizations also played a large part. Hamas leaflets, attempting to justify this aspect of activity, emphasize d the effect the collaborators had on the atmosphere within the Palestinian community , and downplayed the scale ofthe attacks on collaborators in proportion to the overall struggle. References to the killings issued by the intifada leadership focused on appeals to exercise restraint. Yet these calls appeared to have little if any influence on activities dealing with accused collaborators. Indeed, those involved in executing accused traitors were, besides Hamas members, members of strike forces affiliated with PLO organizations, such as the Fatah-affiliated Black Panther and the PFLP-affiliated Red Eagle, both of which operated in Nablus, and Fatah’s Eagles of the Revolution in Gaza. See also Havaretz, August 9, 1988; S. Gabai, “Prophet of Terror,” Sawt al-Agsa, November 15, 1989; Kurz, The Middle East Military

Balance 1989-1990, pp. 154-73.

,

Concurrently, however, sporadic infiltration attempts were conducted by Fatah’s activists as well as by others affiliated with the leftist Fronts across the Israeli-Lebanese border. H. Frisch, “The West Bank and Gaza Strip: The Intifada — From Spontaneous Disturbances to Organized Disobedience,” in MECS 1988, pp. 276-305; J. Teitelbaum, “The Palestine Liberation Organization,” in MECS 1988, pp. 229-76. Leaflet Number 2, which was signed by the UNC, followed an unnumbered and unsigned

196

Notes to pp. 118-20

16

one. See Z. Abu Amr, “The Palestinian Uprising in the West Bank and Gaza Strip,” Arab Studies Quarterly 10, no. 4 (1988): 384-405. Reportedly (Frisch, in MECS 1988, pp. 282-83; Sayigh, Armed Struggle and the Search for State, p. 619), by September 1988, 2,600 activists were placed under administrative arrest and a total of 40,000 were arrested. According to Kimmerling and Migdal (Palestinians, p. 235), by mid-1991, sixty-nine local notables had been deported. Aburish, Arafat, pp. 202-14; Sayigh, Armed Struggle and the Search for State, p. 635. Notably, Husseini’s Institute of Arab Studies was denied financial support. Voice of Palestine, February 5, 1988.

A. Kurz and N. Tal, Hamas: Radical Islam in a National Struggle, JCSS Memorandum no. 48 (Tel Aviv: Jaffee Center for Strategic Studies at Tel Aviv University, 1997).

Hamas leadership, which claimed that it enjoyed support of 40-50 percent in the territories, demanded the same proportion of seats in the national forum, a precondition that was unacceptable to Fatah. A/-Dustur, April 9, 1990; Al-Ra’y, April 9, 1990, in Filistin alThawra, July 8, 1990.

21

Dp,

On January 7, 1990 a joint Hamas—PFLP leaflet was circulated in the territories, calling for an alternative to the PLO-linked UNC. In the months that followed, the Front repeatedly proclaimed its alliance with Hamas, claiming it was based on an identity of approach. In an interview with the paper of his organization, George Habash noted the conceptual affinity between the two organizations and expressed the desire to see Hamas take part in the Palestinian national struggle and its organizational framework; he was also sympathetic to its aspiration to establish a Palestinian state “from the sea to the river.” A/-Hadaf; December 23, 1990. Z. Schiff, “Debate in the Leadership of the Intifada,” Ha'aretz, June 15, 1988. On the disputes inside the PFLP on the issue of the armed dimension of the uprising, see “The PFLP Split on Armed Struggle,” The Jerusalem Post, February 24, 1988. On the concern on the part of the leftist Fronts over Fatah’s political ventures and the consequent call issued by George Habash and Nayif Hawatmeh to convene the PNC so as to confine Arafat’s diplomatic activity within the limits of previous resolutions of the PNC, see International Herald Tribune, June 6, 1989.

23

24

25 26

Dy

28

As of September 1988, the number of days designated for general or commercial strikes dropped, and local popular committees were called upon to keep schools open. See D. Rubinstein, “Only One Strike per Month,” Ha'aretz, April 29, 1992. A. Arian and R. Ventura, Public Opinion in Israel and the Intifada: Changes in Security Attitudes 1987-1988, JCSS Memorandum no. 28 (Tel Aviv: Jaffee Center for Strategic Studies at Tel Aviv University, 1989); Y. Ben Meir, The West Bank and Gaza: Options for Peace, Report of aJCSS Study Group (Tel Aviv: Jaffee Center for Strategic Studies at Tel Aviv University, 1989). Schiff and Yaari, Intifada, pp. 205-21. According to Sayigh (Armed Struggle and the Search for State, p. 622) the PLO stated that the Arab summit had resolved to transfer an immediate grant of $1.28 million to the territories and a monthly donation of $43 million. King Hussein’s disengagement statement, in FBIS, July 31, 1988. See also A. Susser, “Jordan, the Intifada and the Palestinians —- Disengagement?” in At the Core of the Conflict, pp. 128-48; M. S. Braizat, The Jordanian Palestinian Relationship: The Bankruptcy of the Confederal Idea (London: British Academic Press, 1998), pp. 182-89. According to the IDF spokesperson, during the period between December 1987 and November 1988, 248 Palestinians were killed in clashes with the security forces. According to B’Tselem figures, 293 Palestinians were killed during this period. According to the IDF spokesperson, in the period between December 1988 and November 1989, 284 Palestinians were killed by the security forces, while B’Tselem puts the number at 296. According to the

197

Notes to pp. 120-22

IDF spokesperson, in 1988-89 6,110 Palestinians were wounded in clashes with the secu-

rity forces in the West Bank and 4,133 in the Gaza Strip. In addition, 178 buildings were sealed in the territories and 130 houses demolished. No Israelis were killed in the territories during this period. See The Middle East Military Balance 1989-1990, pp. 131-35. 29 Income per capita in the territories declined during the first three years of the intifada from $1,500 to $700. The GNC dropped by about 30 percent. Following the Gulf crisis of the early 1990, in which Arafat sided with Iraq, external financial aid to the territories declined by 75 percent, M. Litvak, “The West Bank and Gaza Strip,” in MECS 1989, pp. 231-61. 30 “As concerns negotiations between the Israeli delegation and the Jordanian-Palestinian delegation, negotiations will begin on arrangements for a transitional period, with the objective of completing them within six months. Seven months after transitional negotiations begin, final status negotiations will begin, with the objective of completing them within one year. These negotiations will be based on all the provisions and principles of UNSCR 242.” In New York Times, March 10, 1988. For background analysis on the prospects for stabilizing the Middle East and a proposal for building peace and stability in the region, see Building for Peace: An American Strategy for the Middle East (Washington DC: The Washington Institute’s Presidential Study Group, 1988). Si In the list of demands, presented to George Shultz, the Israeli government was called upon to abide by the Fourth Geneva Convention and other international agreements pertaining to civilians and properties under states of military occupation; to release all prisoners who were arrested during the recent uprising and foremost among them children; to cancel the policy of expulsion and allow all exiled Palestinians to return to their homes: and to remove all restrictions on political contacts between inhabitants of the territories and the PLO. The Arab-Israeli Peace Process: Briefing Book (Washington DC: The Washington Institute for Near East Policy), sections 4.22-4.25. Accentuating the role of the UNC in articulating the list, Arafat in an interview to La Stampa said “the Palestinian committees struggling in the occupied territories — in line with our indications, though obviously with a wide scope of discretion — have drawn up a 14-point plan aimed at safeguarding the lives and human rights of those being hysterically and savagely attacked by troops,” in FBIS-NES-88—034 22.2.88. 32 The tension between Syria and Fatah culminated in May 1988 in attacks by Fatah dissidents, carried out with Syrian blessing, against Fatah positions in southern Lebanon. 33 Political Statement of the Nineteenth Session of the PNC, Algiers, 12-15 November 1988, in MECS 1988, pp. 262-65. Declaration of Independence, 15 November 1988, in MECS 1988, pp. 260-62. Both the PFLP and the DFLP claimed that the resolution accepted by the nineteenth PNC did not apply to them, Teitelbaum, in MECS 1988, pp. 229-76. Yet they did not withdraw from the PLO’s Executive Committee or Central Council. See The Nineteenth PNC — concluding paper summarizing Arab sources; Al-Anba’ December 13-14, 1988. As Sayigh noted (Armed Struggle and the Search for State, p. 624), this “marked the final transition of the PLO politics from consensus to majority rule.” George Habash stated (A/-Anba’ April 3, 1989), “the PLO is not a group of factions that can say whatever they wish; it is a unified front: but every faction can maintain its right to ideological independence,” stressing that “the PFLP calls for an honest implementat ion ofthe PNC resolutions” and that “Resolution 242 does not mean the recognition of Israel’s right[s].” 34 Yasir Arafat, speech before the 43" session of the United Nations General Assembly on the Palestinian Question, Geneva, December 13, 1988, in MECS 1988, pp. 266-71. Excerpts from the briefing by State Department Spokesman Charles Redman on December 13 regarding PLO Chairman Arafat’s speech to the UN General Assembly meeting, in Official Text, US Information Service, Tel Aviv, December 14, 1988. Yasir Arafat, text of press conference statement, Geneva, December 14, 1988. in MECS 1988, pp. 271-72.

198

Notes to pp. 123-24 25

“We have arrived at a truth that we hope the Israeli leaders will also arrive at before it is too late. This is the truth which says that two peoples and two states must co-exist on this land. All other matters are open to discussion. Our Covenant and yours can be discussed.” Taped address by Salah Khalaf to the Peace Symposium in Jerusalem, February 22, 1989, The Jerusalem Post, February 23, 1989. Seeking to allay the tension between its mainstream and rejectionist PLO organizations, Fatah leaders illustrated the initiative as designated to promote the “strategy of phases.” See, for instance, Salah Khalaf, “our ultimate goal is to constitute a state on the whole of Palestine,” Yediot Ahronot, December 18, 1989. Al-Shargq al-Awsat, November 6, 1989. Al-Tadamun September 11, 1989.

Said, The Politics of Dispossession, pp. 145-51. See also M. Muslie, “A Study of the PLO Peace Initiatives, 1974-1988,” in The PLO and Israel, pp. 37-33.

42

43

44

Particularly challenging was the opposition by the PFLP. See George Habash interviewed by Al-Anba’ October 21, 1989. As Qaddumi noted (in A/-Madinah, November 3, 1989): “US recognition ofthe Palestinian national rights will not come through the US—Palestinian dialogue. Continuation of the intifada is what will force all powers to recognize our Palestinian rights. If it were not for the intifada the US would not have opened a dialogue with us. To us, the dialogue meant entering the US and working to enlighten US public opinion on the Palestinian cause and the just struggle of the Palestinian people . . . we believe that continuation of the intifada will bring more gains.” Particularly notable was the civil disobedience campaign of April-May 1989, which was conducted by the residents of Beit Sahur in the West Bank and was not backed by the “outside” leadership. The campaign did not inspire similar ones in other towns, yet it featured a significant symbolic value and mobilized international support for the uprising and criticism against Israel, which responded by imposing a prolonged siege over the town. According to the Israeli Terrorism Prevention Act (1948), terrorism means “violent acts that may result in death or injury, or threats to carry out such acts.” This highly generalized categorization does not explicitly state that violence must be politically motivated in order for it to be considered terrorism. Nor does it confine terrorist acts to assaults perpetrated in certain geographical areas or against certain targets. In contrast, the nature of the objective that is attacked form a major aspect of the American definition of terrorism. According to the State Department’s definition, terrorism is “premeditated, politically motivated violence perpetrated against noncombatant targets by sub-national groups of clandestine state agents, usually intended to influence an audience.” See, for instance: Patterns of Global Terrorism — 1998, United States Department of State, April 1999; Patterns of Global Terrorism — 2002, released by the Office of the Coordinator for Counterterrorism, United States Department of State. In the latter report, the definition of “noncombatants” was extended to include, “in addition to civilians, military personnel who at the time of the incident are unarmed and/or not on duty.” In the initial stages of the dialogue with the PLO, the US sought to persuade the organization’s leadership to provide a broad, operative translation of Arafat’s pledge and to assume responsibility for the relevant activities of its diverse member groups. The PLO was called upon to end the intifada, and Arafat was challenged by the Bush administration regarding the activities of PLO-member groups in the Israeli border arena. The administration also required the expulsion from the ranks of the PLO of the PLF, which was held

responsible for the hijacking of the Achille Lauro and the dismantling of Fatah’s Force 17, which at the time strove to increase its independence of Fatah’s official leadership. None of these demands, however, were met. Even the pressure exercised by the administration on Arafat in early 1989 to bring to a halt cross-border incursion attempts from Lebanon

199

Notes to pp. 124-25

45

was eased throughout the year. From the perspective of the Israeli political and military echelons, assaults by PLO-affiliated elements were considered irrefutable indications of the lack of credibility of Arafat’s undertaking. Intensive diplomatic efforts were conducted throughout 1989 to prove the association between violent acts and PLO groups in general, and Fatah’s in particular. The administration’s dismissal of these allegations, as it pursued the dialogue with the PLO mainstream to promote the peace process, encountered growing Congressional opposition throughout 1989 and early 1990. In March 1989, however, Secretary of State James Baker maintained that attacks by the PLO against Israeli targets in southern Lebanon were not acts of terrorism requiring the cessation of US talks with the PLO. Moreover, the administration apparently accepted the PLO argument that attacks inside Israel and the territories constituted a legitimate expression of struggle against occupation. Presumably, this stance reflected concern that further pressure on Arafat concerning the violent dimension of the struggle would shake his intra-PLO status and leave the administration no Palestinian partner for negotiations. However, in response to violent actions carried out by the PFLP, PLF, and DFLP, the State Department reminded “PLO leaders that they must speak with one voice of their intent to seek a peaceful, negotiated solution.” The PLO was called upon to “live up to its statements. In particular, it must demonstrate that its renunciation of terrorism is persuasive and permanent.” In Report Pursuant of Title VIII of Public Law 101-246 (Foreign Relations Authorization Act, Fiscal Years 1990 and 1991, PLO Commitments Compliance Act: Report on PLO Compliance and Report on Attempted Incursions). Differences concerning the issue of violent struggle existed among diverse factions within the PLO, as well as among leaders of Fatah. On the whole, however, the significance of violent struggle for attaining political gains was not denied. Salah Khalaf, in a press conference held in January 1989, emphasized the importance of violent struggle, noting that “world public opinion is not only won by political and diplomatic action . . . [but] the continuation of the armed struggle [is] . . . decisive in bringing about changes in stands and also in finding a solution.” In an interview with Al-Majalla, March 1, 1989, he said that “there is a difference between terrorism and legitimate struggle . . . as far as we are concerned, and while we condemn and repudiate terrorism, we adhere to our right to resist the occupation . . . and I must point out that we do not agree to any operations aimed at civilians.” Cited by: Report Pursuant of Title VIII of Public Law 101-246 (Foreign Relations Authorization Act, Fiscal Years 1990 and 1991, PLO Commitments C ompliance Act: Report on PLO Compliance). This point was also stressed by George Habash (A/-

Anba’, April 3, 1989), who noted that “when

46

47 48 49

the US administration demands

that we

renounce terrorism, this means that we were in the past terrorists practicing terrorism while the Palestinian revolution has always been fighting for freedom.” Israeli Government Peace Initiative, The Jerusalem Post, May 15, 1989. The initiative called for reinforcement of peace on the grounds of the Camp David accords, and proposed holding free and democratic elections among the Palestinian Arab residents of Judea, Samaria, and Gaza, in an atmosphere free of violence, threat, and terror. The plan stated opposition to the establishment of an additional Palestinian state in the area between Israel and Jordan and in the Gaza Strip, and declared that no negotiations with the PLO would be conducted. Voice of Palestine, July 6, 1989; KUNA November 3. 1989. J. Teitelbaum, “The Palestine Liberation Organization,” in MECS 1989, pp. 197-230. “The US is the side capable of putting pressure on Israel. Egypt coordinates with us but Egypt will never be substitute for us when it comes to represent ation and attendance. They coordinate with us in any attempt to achieve what Baker proposed, which is a Palestinian—Israeli dialogue,” Khaled al-Hasan interviewed by Al-Sharg al-Awsat, January 8, 1990.

200

Notes to pp. 125-28 50 51

52

The Baker plan, December 8, 1989, US Department of State Press Release, cited in The Arab—Israeli Peace Process Briefing Book, sections 7.27-7.29. Excerpts from the political program issued by the Fatah’s Fifth Congress in Tunis on August 8, 1989 and broadcast by Voice of Palestine, August 9, 1989. For the first time, the Congress approved participation of residents of the territories in the organization’s institutions. The PLO approved a meeting in Cairo between an Israeli delegation and a Palestinian one that would primarily be comprised of Palestinians from the territories, on the basis of “an open agenda without any restrictions or conditions. Either team may say what it wants . . . the same position was adopted by Baker, who pointed out that the Palestinian team and the Israeli [one] . . . have the right to raise their views. Our Central Council, whose proceedings were held in Baghdad, endorsed the Palestinian—Israeli dialogue as a preliminary step towards an international process.” Arafat interviewed by A/-Hawadith, November 24, 1989. Salah Khalaf was said by observers to reflect a more flexible stand by the PLO on the Israeli call for elections in territories, yet stressed that “among the details that should be discussed . . . [should be] the prior Israeli withdrawal from the territories.” Radio Monte Carlo, April 25, 1989.

53

IDF Radio, November 3, 1989, November 5, 1989; Jerusalem Domestic Service, November

54

5—6, 1989. The intention of fundamentalist Jews to go to the Temple Mount in Jerusalem, the site of the al-Aqsa Mosque,

25

aif

58

59 60

61 62

resulted on October

8, 1990 in violent clashes between

Muslim

worshippers and the Israeli police. Twenty Palestinians were killed and fifty-three wounded, and twenty-one policemen were wounded. According to the Israeli Fact-Finding Commission for the Events on the Temple Mount (The Zamir Commission, Jerusalem: October 1990), the police were unprepared for such a development and responsible for its results. Sari Nusseibeh specifically warned that “the immigration of large numbers of Soviet Jews will undoubtedly defuse the present incentive, especially in the Labor Party, for territorial withdrawal,” in A/-Fajr, January 29, 1990. The administration threatened to cut financial aid to Israel and refrain from approving loan guarantees requested by the Israeli government for absorbing the massive wave of immigration. Statement

by President

Bush, Office of the Press Secretary, June

1990, cited in The

Arab-Israeli Peace Process Briefing Book, sections 7.24—7.25. On the regional dynamic that encouraged the resumption of links between Cairo and Arab states and the return of Egypt to the Arab League, see Sela, The Decline of the Arab-Israeli Conflict, pp. 315-20. Saddam Hussein interviewed by the Wall Street Journal, in INA July 1, 1990. The discussion on the rapprochement between the PLO and Iraq draws heavily from A. Kurz, “The Palestinian Struggle,” in The Middle East Military Balance 1990-1991, pp. 170-94. Other organizations that drew closer to Baghdad were the PFLP and the non-PLO affiliate, Abu Nidal’s FRC, after years of severance. JVA December 25, 1990. A. Kurz, “The Gulf Crisis, International Terrorism, and Implications for Israel,” in J.

Alpher (ed.), War in the Gulf: Implications for Israel— Report of a Jaffee Center Study Group (Jerusalem: The Jerusalem Post and Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 1992), pp. 209-21.

63 64

The Jerusalem Post, March 31, 1991; on the persecution of Palestinians in the Emirates in the aftermath of the war, see Teitlebaum, in MECS 1990, pp. 226-27. In 1989, some $140-150 million was transferred to the territories by Palestinians from Jordan and the Gulf states. An additional $250 million was delivered by Arab governments, UNRWA, or institutions abroad, especially in West European countries. Money was also

201

Notes to pp. 128-29

65

transferred directly through PLO-affiliated organizations. By November 1990, a reduction of some 50 percent in the flow of money was registered. Remunerations from Palestinians abroad, mainly from the Gulf states, effectively ceased. Concurrently, the Jordanian and Kuwaiti dinars were devalued radically, hurting the value of Palestinian savings. See Kurz, in The Middle East Military Balance 1990-1991, pp. 180-85; Litvak, in MECS 1989, pp. 253-56. In September 1990 estimates of unemployment in the territories reached 30 percent. See Ha'aretz, September 11, 1990. On violation of human rights in the territories during the Gulf War see B’Tselem, January-February 1991. On French efforts to persuade Arafat to moderate the PLO’s pro-Iraqi stances: Ha'aretz, October 14, 1990. On severance of PLO—West European links, Ha'aretz, August 30, 1990; The Jerusalem Post, February 20, 1991. On the suspension of PLO-UK contacts, Ha’aretz, August 2, 1990.

66

Salah Khalaf’s attitudes prompted Baghdad’s displeasure, and apparently motivated his assassination on January 14, 1991 in Tunis at the hands of Iraqi-directed agents. See “InterPalestinian Differences,” in A/l-Shira, December September 24, 1990.

67

10, 1990; Khalaf interviewed by ITV,

Since early 1989, meetings had been held between Faisal Husseini and Israelis who for the most part were affiliated with the Labor Party. For the Palestinians, the dialogue was a means to legitimize dialogue with the PLO. For their Israeli counterparts, on the other hand, the dialogue was means to strengthen a local Palestinian leadership at the expense of the PLO. See Litvak, in MECS 1989, pp. 240-46. 68 Hamas’ leadership viewed the dispute mainly in religious terms, as a war of believers a gainst “Crusaders,” and did not adhere to a basically pro-Iraq line. Thus communiqués issued shortly after the invasion of Kuwait were critical of Baghdad. It was only following the deployment of Western forces in the Gulf that the tone changed, and the external intervention attracted the heaviest condemnations. See D. Rubinstein, “Jihad for Secularists,” Haaretz, March 4, 1991. 69 Special mention should be made of the rising influence of the Islamists. With encouragement by the civil administration, elections for local professional unions were held in the territories. They were nominally confined to issue-related expertise, yet their results were highly indicative as to the distribution of power in the territories. In 1990, Hamas won elections for four trade unions that had been PLO strongholds: the Workers Union and UNRWA in Gaza, the UNRWA branch in Ramallah, and the student union in El-Bireh. In June 1991, elections for the local chamber of commerce — the first since 1967 — were held in Hebron. Six out of the eleven seats in the Hebron chamber were won by Islamic candidates, four by PLO-affiliated candidates, and one was won by a non-affiliated candidate. Islamic elements withdrew from the student elections held in June 1991 at the Bethlehem University, allegedly for fear they would not get support. Elections held in the Gaza Strip also reflected mixed trends. 70 The following discussion draws heavily from Kurz and Tal, Hamas. The economic situation reduced the frequency of intifada-inspired strikes. Grass-ro ots protests against the associated economic burden occasionally led to cancellation of strike orders. There were also instances of defiance by local committees of strike calls issued by higher echelons. Additional indications of activists’ recognition of the limitatio ns on their ability to enforce an absolute break between the population and the Israeli economy were a drastic reduction in attacks against vehicles driving workers across the Green Line, and directly against workers, in contrast with the volume of such attacks in the first two years of the intifada. At the same time, the use of force proliferated in instance s of defiance of commercial or general strikes, corresponding with the mounting scope of militancy and defiance. By mid1991, Palestinian businessmen were granted licenses for several dozen new plants and economic projects in the territories. The civil administ ration approved a three-year exemp-

202

Notes to pp. 129-30 tion from property and income taxes for new factories, and legalized some plants that had been opened without permits. This new liberal policy was also demonstrated in the intro-

duction of relaxed regulations for the channeling of development funds to the territories,

71 72

and the authorizing oflocal elections for chambers of commerce. These new moderate policies corresponded with the recommendations made by a committee appointed in December 1990 by the Defense Ministry to study the Gaza Strip economy and apparently reflected a reevaluation of the negative direct and indirect influence of a halt on economic growth upon the situation in the territories. A change of heart was also evident among residents of the territories concerning the importance of the education system within the framework of the intifada during its first stages. During the third and fourth years of the intifada, intensive efforts were made to rehabilitate the system. Both the UNC and Hamas leaflets repeatedly called upon students to attend schools even on strike days. This formed the backdrop for the gradual reopening of schools by the civil administration as well. In March 1990, the reopening of five of twenty-eight schools closed in the Gaza Strip was announced. On the closing down of schools in the territories during the intifada see B’Tselem, September—October 1990. Similarly, the infrastructure of independent Palestinian medical care in the territories faced acute economic hardships, which in some cases rendered routine functioning impossible. By mid-1991, Palestinians increasingly turned for medical treatment to government-run hospitals and clinics. By July 1991, seventeen Civil Administration offices were reopened throughout the West Bank. Meetings were primarily held with Faisal Husseini and Hanan Ashrawi. On the joint Palestinian—Jordanian delegation, Voice of Palestine, July 23, 1991; Faisal Husseini on the Palestinian delegation: A/-Ahali, August 28, 1991; the ten-point declaration was included in the Memorandum of Understanding that Secretary of State Baker conveyed to the Palestinian delegation, in MENA,

September 18, 1991.

Seeking to counterbalance the reinstitution of Jordanian involvement in Palestinian politics, Arafat sought a reconciliation with Damascus.

See J. Teitelbaum,

“The Palestine

Liberation Organization,” in MECS 1991, pp. 209-49; D. Rubinstein, “Concerns over Asad’s Double Game,” Ha'aretz, August |, 1991. Even before termination of the fighting in the Gulf, the PLO resolved to try and amend its severely hindered political standing by improving relations with major Arab states. The PLO-Syrian relationship formed a case in point. In the southern Lebanese arena, Palestinian organizations’ political strength and their military infrastructures were severely weakened, due to the Syrian-backed drive of the Lebanese government. This drive, intended to implement the October 1989 Ta’if agreement, accelerated as the world’s attention was focused upon the war in the Gulf, with the

73

goal of restoring control over the entire country. This motivated moves to mend historical rifts within the Palestinian national movement between the PLO and dissident, pro-Syrian factions. As to the Ta’if accord: in September 1989, Lebanese Muslim and Christian parliament members signed a peace treaty. The accord, which was advanced under the aegis of the Arab League, was signed in Ta’if, Saudi Arabia. It included political reforms in favor of Muslim political power and called for withdrawal of Syrian troops from the country after implementation of the reforms and formation of a national unity government. The accord also directed disarmament of the diverse militias, except for Hizbollah forces fighting the Israeli presence in the south. From the political statement of the twentieth PNC session: “the PLO, as the legitimate and sole representative of the Palestinian people, has the right to form the Palestinian delegation from within and outside the homeland, including Jerusalem, and to define the formula of their participation in the peace process on an equitable basis and in a way that stresses its authority,” A/-Dustur, September 29, 1991.

203

Notes to pp. 130-32 74

J. Alpher, “The Arab-Israeli Peace Process,” in S. Gazit (ed.), The Middle East Military Balance 1992-1993 (Jerusalem: The Jerusalem Post and Boulder, CO: Westview Press,

TS)

1993), pp. 46-67; A. Shlaim, The Iron Wall: Israel and the Arab World (London: Penguin Books, 2000); M. Gazit, “The Middle East Peace Process,” in MECS 1992, pp. 113-55; G. Gera, “The Arab Israeli Peace Process,” in MECS 1993, pp. 32-50. Haidar Abdl Shafi, head of the Palestinian delegation to Madrid, interviewed by Ha’aretz, October 22, 1991; an interview with Faisal Husseini, Al-Hayat, October 2, 1991; A. Groth,

76 77 78

The PLO’s Road to Peace: Processes and Decision-Making, Whitehall Paper Series (London: RUSI, 1995). The Islamic activists were deported following the kidnapping and subsequent murder by Hamas of an Israeli solder. “PLO Hopes for Resuming Talks Soon,” in Voice of Palestine, April 16, 1993.

The victory of the Labor party in the elections of June 1992 was primarily attributed to public disillusionment with the way in which the Likud government handled both domestic matters and the conflict with the Palestinians. Emphasized in the Labor’s campaign was the intention to advance an interim arrangement on the territories. Particularly appealing to the Israeli public was a declaration by Yitzhak Rabin — hardly a proponent of Palestinian statehood — to “get Gaza out of Tel Aviv.” For the PLO’s reaction to the abolition on the

contact ban, Moroccan

79 80

Kingdom

Radio, January 21, 1993; “PNC

Praises Decision,”

MENA, January 20, 1993; an interview with F arug Qaddumi, Voice of the Arabs, January 21, 1993. The PLO statement on resumption of talks, Voice of Palestine, April 24, 1993. Voice of Palestine, January 20, 1992. On Rabin’s pre-election view on autonomy in the

territories, see Ha'aretz, June 25, 1992: Al-Quds, July 14, 1992; M. Benvenisti , “Autonomy

Rabin’s Style,” Ha’aretz, July 5, 1992. For Palestinian reactions to the autonomy idea, see

Davar, July 3, 24, 1992; Hanan Ashrawi in Haaretz, August 24, 1992: Nabil Sha’th in Havaretz, August 28, 1992; Abdl Shafi in Haaretz, August 30, 1992. For the Palestinian

proposal of “Palestinian Interim Self-Government Arrangements” (PISGA): Ha'aretz, September 2, 1992. On the PLO’s reaction to Clinton’s draft Declarati on of Principles:

Haaretz, May 17, 1993.

81

82

83

84

85

Hana Siniora of the issue of Jerusalem, in The Jerusalem Post, July 9, 1992; S. Nusseibeh, “Share Jerusalem, Divide Sovereignty,” Al-Fajr, May 3, 1993. On Faisal Husseini’s efforts to mobilize popular support, see Voice of Israel radio, Decembe r 8, 1991. On calls issued by the National Salvation Front (PNSF) for a national dialogue on the current political challenge, see A/-Dustur September 19, 1991; “PNC Figures Reject Peace Talk Conditions,” Jordan Times, March 16, 1992. 1992 also saw escalation of the conflict, which mainly took place in Lebanon, between Fatah and Abu Nidal’s FRC. In June 1992, a Fatah high-ra nking security official, Atef Bseiso, was assassinated in Paris by Abu Nidal’s FRC. Late 1992-early 1993 saw a reduction in tensions between Hamas and the PLO. This did not reflect a strategic shift, but was rather engendered by Israeli countermeasures to escalating violence in the territories by Hamas activists, culmina ting in the massive expulsion of the Islamic militants to Lebanon. Following the suspension of the peace talks by the PLO, the dialogue between the two camps was resume d in Tunis and Khartoum, at a higher level than before. For the first time since the start of the intifada, Hamas and the PLO issued a joint leaflet calling for coordination and escalation of the struggle. Ultimately, this was only another chapter in the history of the two organiz ations’ rivalry. The notion of holding a secret channel of talks was first raised in a meeting between Terje Larsen of the Norwegian Institute for Applied Social Research (FAFO) and Yossi Beilin. President Mubarak was also involved in getting the talks started. See Aburish, Arafat, pp. 230-61; Y. Beilin, Touching Peace (Tel Aviv: Yediot Ahronot, 1997); J. Corbin, Gaza

204

Notes to pp. 132-36

|

First: The Secret Norway Channel to Peace Between Israel and the PLO (London: Bloomsbury, 1994); Y. P. Hirschfeld, Oslo: A Formula for Peace, From Negotiation to Implementation (Tel Aviv: Am Oved, 2000) [Hebrew]; U. Savir, The Process: 1,100 Days that Changed the Middle East (London: Vintage Books, 1999); Sayigh, Armed Struggle and the Search for State, pp. 653-62; Wallach and Wallach, Arafat in the Eyes of the Beholder, pp. 429-92. On the Israeli side, the talks were conducted by Yair Hirschfeld and Ron Pundak. By April, in response to Palestinian insistence on official Israeli representation, they were supervised by the director-general of the Foreign Ministry, Uri Savir. Attorney Yoel Singer later joined the team as well. Rabin, Peres, and Deputy Foreign Minister Yossi Beilin were constantly updated. The Palestinian delegation, which maintained continuous connections with Arafat, was headed by the director-general of Samed,

86

87 88

the PLO’s financial arm — Ahmed Qurei (Abu Ala). Yasir Abd-Rabbu and Mahmoud Abbas were involved as well. The number of assaults perpetrated by Palestinians in which firearms were used increased from 168 in 1990 to 297 in 1991, and then to 508 in 1992 (E. Rekhess, “The West Bank and Gaza Strip,” in MECS 1993, p. 302). On pressures on Israel by the administration to endorse flexible stances expected to promote the talks, see Ha’aretz, July 28, 1992, November 8, 1992, November 11, 1992. “We Must Find an Alternative to This Process,” an interview with Abdl Shafi, A/-Fajr, January 28, 1993. S. Gazit, Gaza First: A Separate Political Agreement on the Gaza Strip, JCSS Memorandum no. 41 (Tel Aviv: Jaffee Center for Strategic Studies at Tel Aviv University, 1993) [Hebrew].

89

An interview with Itamar Rabinovich, head of the Israeli delegation to the negotiations with Syria, in Hadashot, September 14, 1992.

90

“Declaration of Principles on Interim Self-Government Arrangements,” in MECS 1993, p. 56. The DoP stipulated a plan for advancing a phased peace settlement over a period of five years. In the first phase, Israel was to withdraw from the Gaza Strip and the Jericho area, where Palestinians would be granted full self-rule. Also agreed upon was establishment of what was referred to as “early Palestinian empowerment” in the rest of the territories, including the administration of bureaucracies for education, health, welfare, taxation, and tourism. Elections for the Palestinian Authority were scheduled for July 1994; negotiations on the final status settlement were scheduled to commence two years after the signing of the DoP.

Epilogue: New Setting, Old Dilemmas 1

This chapter draws heavily from A. Kurz, “Fatah’s Struggle for Institutionalization,” Strategic Assessment 3, no. 4 (2001): 21-26; A. Kurz, “The Institutional Regression ofthe Palestinian Authority,” Strategic Assessment 5, no. 3 (2002): 7-14; A. Kurz, “The Intifada: The Dynamics of an Ongoing Crisis,” in S. Feldman and Y. S. Shapir (eds.), The Middle

East Strategic Balance 2003-2004 (Brighton: Sussex Academic Press and Jaffee Center for Strategic Studies, 2004), pp. 124-44. The Israel-PLO Gaza Strip and Jericho Cairo Agreement (on a transfer of power and

responsibilities). Source: http://www.Jewishvirtuallibrary.org/jsource/Peace/gazajer.html. The Israeli-Palestinian Interim Agreement on the West Bank and the Gaza Strip, Washington D.C. September 28, 1995. Source: http://www.knesset.gov.il/process/docs/ heskemb_eng.htm. “Further Redeployment (FRD) — The Next Stage of the Israeli—Palestinian Interim Agreement — legal aspects, January 19, 1997.” Source: Israel Ministry of Foreign Affairs. “The Wye River Memorandum — Background and Main Points, October 23, 1998.” Source: Israel Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

205

Notes to pp. 136-41

“Sharm el-Sheikh Memorandum, September 1999. Source: Israel Ministry of Foreign Affairs.” On the Camp David negotiations, see B. Morris, “Camp David and After: An Exchange: Part 1: An Interview with Ehud Barak,” and H. Agha and R. Malley, “Part 2: A Reply to Ehud Barak,” The New York Review of Books, June 13, 2002. See Palestinian Negotiating

Team, “Camp David Peace Proposal of July, 2000: Frequently Asked Questions,” http://www.mediamonitors.net/pnt1.html. See also U. Horowitz, “Camp David 2 and President Clinton’s Bridging Proposals — The Palestinian View,” Strategic Assessment 3, no. 4 (2001): 1-9; A. Shavit, “End of a Journey,” an interview with former foreign minister Shlomo Ben-Ami, Ha’aretz.com, July 21, 2004; R. Pundak, “From Oslo to Taba: What Went Wrong?” Survival vol. 43, no. 3 (2001): 31-45.

For a view on the intifada as a showcase of lack of strategy, see Y. Sayigh, “Arafat and the Anatomy of a Revolt,” Survival 43, no. 3 (2001): 47-60. From the beginning of the intifada until August 2003, there were 18,125 terrorist attacks, of which 9,628 were in areas bordering or inside the Gaza Strip. The fence surrounding the Gaza Strip was cited as the cause of the relatively low number of casualties in the neighboring areas (10 percent). In terms of numbers, the suicide attacks accounted for a small

11

fraction of the total number of terrorist attacks. According to the IDF spokesman (www.idf.il), few suicide attacks took place in most months of the intifada — between two and four. The peak period was December 2001—June 2002; and seventeen suicide attacks occurred in March 2002. A. Kurz, “The International War on Terror post-September 11,” in E. Kam and Y. Shapir (eds.), The Middle East Strategic Balance 2002-2003 (Tel Aviv: Jaffee Center for Strategic Studies at Tel Aviv University, 2003), pp. 85-101. According to a report published by Palestinian Minister of Finance Salam Fayyad, economic activity in the territories dropped by 50 percent since the outbreak of the intifada (Globes, March 2-3, 2003). According to another estimate, activity fell 31 percent (Globes, October 14-15, 2003). Also according to Globes (April 22—23, 2003), while internationa l aid to the PA in 2002 totaled approximately $700 million (with merely $500,000 from Arab countries, Ha'aretz, September 26, 2003), only 10 percent was designated for infrastructures and the educational and health systems. The remainder was added to the budget for financing the salaries of approximately 125,000 public employees, of whom 56,000 were security personnel. The unemployment rate in the territories tripled from 21 percent in 1999 to 60 percent in 2002 (Globes, October 14-15, 2003). One factor thought to have played a key role in the continued economic activity, even under these conditions, was the relative durability of the banking system in the territories. A report published by the Bank ofIsrael

(Ha'aretz, March 31, 2004), claimed that the intifada was one of the main reasons for the

14

economic recession in Israel. The damage to the Israeli economy, not including defense spending, reached 2-8 percent of the GDP, amounting to 31-40 billion NIS. See also I. Tov, “Economy in a Prolonged Conflict: Israel 2000-2003,” Strategic Assessment 6, no. | (2003): 20-25. B'tselem — The Israeli Information Center for Human Rights in the Occupied Territories. Different sources supply a range of figures for casualties. Regarding the strengthening of the younger generation’s influenc e and the undermining of the older generation’s leadership, see K. Shikaki, “Palestinian Public Opinion and the a/ Aqsa Intifada,” Strategic Assessment 5, no. | (2002): 15-20. Mitchell was appointed by President Clinton as head of the fact-fin ding committee upon which Barak, the PA, and Clinton agreed in the October 2000 Sharm el-Sheikh summit. His report, submitted six months later, is Sharm el-Sheik h Fact-Finding Committee, December 28, 2000, Israel Ministry of Foreign Affairs; Sharm el-Sheikh Fact-Finding Committee Report, April 30, 2001, http://www.state. gov/p/ne a/rls/rpt/3060.htm

206

| 15

17

18

19

20

21 22

23

Notes to pp. 141-50

Tenet was sent to the region to advance implementation of Mitchell’s recommendations. The Tenet plan designed to lead to a ceasefire, the renewal of security coordination, the return of the IDF to its pre-intifada positions, and resumption of diplomatic dialogue. Israeli and PA defense officials, who met jointly with Tenet, accepted the plan in principle. A.M. Said Aly and S. Feldman, Ecopolitics: Changing the Regional Context of Arab-Israeli Peacemaking (Cambridge: Belfer Center for Science and International Affairs, August 29, 2003). “Peace requires a new and different Palestinian leadership, so that a Palestinian state can be born” (http://whitehouse.gov/news/releases/2002/06/20020624—3. html). “A Performance-Based Roadmap to a Permanent Two-State Solution to the Israeli—Palestinian Conflict,” Press Statement, Office of the Spokesman, US Department of State, Washington DC, April 30, 2003. In August 2000, Fayyad founded the Palestine Investments Fund, designed to amalgamate all the PA’s investments and transactions around the world. The PA’s investments were estimated at $600 million. Fuel, cement, and other monopolies remained outside the purview of Fayyad’s ministry, and were a key element in the accusations of corruption leveled by the opposition against senior PA officials (Globes, March 3, 2003). Hosted by King Abdullah of Jordan, Ariel Sharon, George Bush, and Mahmoud Abbas met in Aqaba on June 20, 2003, for a summit meeting that was intended to launch implementation of the roadmap. Prime minister’s speech at the Herzliya Conference, December 18, 2003. Hamas itself has also experienced a severe leadership crisis. The assassination by the IDF of Rantisi, the heir of Sheikh Yassin, on April 17, 2004 was designed to disrupt preparations for terrorist attacks against Israel, but the decimation of the Hamas leadership in the Gaza Strip strengthened its leadership in Damascus, which has close ties with Iran. Mahmoud Abbas won 62.32 percent of the votes. Hamas and Palestinian Islamic Jihad did not participate in the elections.

207

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217

Index

Abbas, Mahmoud (Abu Mazen), 31, 195n, 205n and al-Aqsa intifada (2000-4), 142-43, 144,

145, 150, 207n Abd-Rabbu, Yasir, 205n Abdullah, King of Jordan, 207n Abdullah, Saudi crown prince, 141 Abu Abbas, 180n, 191n Abu Ala, see Qurei, Ahmed (Abu Ala)

Abu Ayyash, Radwan, 196n Abu lyad see Khalaf, Salah (Abu Iyad) Abu Jihad see al-Wazir, Khalil (Abu Jihad) Abu Mazen see Abbas, Mahmoud (Abu Mazen) Abu Musa, 191n

Abu Nidal Organization see Fatah — Revolutionary Council (FRC) Abu Sharif, Bassam, 121

Abu Zayyad, Ziad, 196n Achille Lauro, 191n, 192n, 199n

African National Congress (ANC), 15 Algeria, 41, 42, 66, 73, 77, 78, 80, 93, 96, 127, 169n, 180n and Algerian war, 26, 27, 33, 34, 45-46 and Fatah’s armed struggle (1965-68), 42, 46,

47, 48, 52, 164n, 165n, 167n Algerian National Liberation Front see FLN (Algerian National Liberation Front) Allon, Yigal, 173n

Alush, Naji, 30, 34 Amal, 98, 99, 110, 185n Amirav, Moshe, 194n Amman accord (1985), 107-8, 190n Andersson, Sten, 122 Aqaba summit (2003), 207n

al-Aqsa intifada (2000-4), 1, 22, 138-51 and al-Aqsa Martyrs Brigades, 139, 140, 144,

147, 148 and Hamas, 139, 140, 143, 144, 145, 146, 147,

148 hudna, 144, 145, 146

and IDF, 138-39, 141, 144, 145, 149 and Islamic Jihad, 139, 143, 144, 145, 146, 147 and PA, 22, 138-43, 144-46, 147-51 and Tanzim, 138-39, 143, 144

al-Aqsa Martyrs Brigades, 139, 140, 144, 147, 148 Arab Ba’ath Party, 24, 31, 35, 40, 41, 164n Arab Deterrent Force (ADF), 87, 89, 90, 99, 101, 180n, 181n

Arab League, 24, 36, 37, 43, 74, 93, 106, 126, 141, 201n, 203n Arab Liberation Front (ALF), 50, 59, 81, 166n in Lebanon, 89, 101, 180n, 181n. 185n, 186n Arab Nationalist Movement (ANM), 24, 28-29, 35, 39, 50, 162n, 164n, 165n, 166n Arab Nationalist Youth Organization, 83, 173n, 176-77n Arab states aid to occupied territories, 93, 111, 120, 127-28, 197n, 198n, 201—2n and diplomatic initiatives, 61, 95, 144, 169n

and Fatah, 2-3, 19, 38-43, 45, 56, 59, 82. 100-1, 104 and Gulf crisis (1990-91), 126, 127-28 and internal tensions, 35, 61, 63, 64, 66, 88, 93 and Israel, 35, 76, 130, 136 and Palestinian issue, 23-25, 27, 28, 35-37, 46, 49-50, 58, 66, 75, 77, 105, 107, 163n and PLO, 2-3, 19, 81, 154 and US, 79, 107 see also Arab summits; individual states; panArabism Arab summits Alexandria (1964), 37

Algiers (1973), 80 Algiers (1988), 120, 121, 122, 197n Amman (1980), 95 Amman (1987), 114, 194n Baghdad (1978), 93 Baghdad (1990), 127 Cairo (1964), 36 Cairo (1970), 61 Cairo (1976), 87-88 Cairo (1990), 127 Casablanca (1965), 40 Casablanca (1985), 107-8 Fez (1981), 95-96 Fez (1982), 106, 107

Khartoum (1967), 46, 57 Rabat (1969), 58, 73, 169n Rabat (1974), 3, 81, 82, 92 Arafat, Yasir

and Abu Sharif’s proposals (1988), 121 acceptance of UN resolutions, 122, 123 and al-Aqsa intifada (2000-4), 139, 142, 145,

146, 148, 150

and Camp David summit (2000), 136-37 and creation of Fatah, 29-31, 160n

Bush, George W., 139, 141, 142, 144, 150, 207n

and Crown Prince Fahd’s plan, 183”

Cairo agreement, 66, 67, 70-71, 88, 89, 93, 106, 172n, 180n

death of, 150

expulsion to Kuwait (1957), 29, 161n and idea of Palestinian state, 74-75 and intifada (1987-93), 116, 195n and Lebanon War (1982), 102, 188n

and Oslo peace process, 132-33, 201n, 205n and Palestinian rebellion in Lebanon (1983), 108, 190n on PLO as government-in-exile proposal, 73 and recognition of Israel, 121 and Shultz initiative (1988), 198n on terrorism, 109, 122, 124, 191n, 199-200n at UN General Assembly, 81-82, 122, 124, 176n and Washington talks (1991-93), 131

Argoy, Shlomo, 102 armed struggle, 162n al-Aqsa intifada (2000-4), 138-40, 141-47,

Cairo declaration (1985), 109, 110, 191n

Camp David peace accords (1979), 93, 94, 95, 182-83n, 193n, 200n Camp David summit (2000), 22, 136-37, 151 Carter, Jimmy, 91-92, 96, 181n

Castal brigade, 68 Central Committee of the Palestinian Resistance (CCPR), 60, 63, 74 Chamoun, Camille, 177n China, 42, 52, 58, 66, 165n, 177n Christian militias, 85—6, 87, 89, 177n, 181n

see also Phalange Party Clinton, Bill, 131, 136, 137, 206n Cold War, 27, 28, 129 Cuba, 59 Czechoslovakia, 27

148-49, 206n Black September Organization (BSO), 68-71,

168n, 172—73n organizations and movements, 11-13 PLO covenant, 45, 58, 125, 165n rejectionist front, 81, 83, 87, 109

resistance organizations, 54-55, 65-71, 77, 79, 98, 171n, 172n

see also Fatah; terrorist organizations ‘Arqub, 66, 67, 68, 171n

al-Asad, Hafez, 40, 41, 72, 77, 129, 164n, 190n Ashbal (“tiger cub”), 55 Ashrawi, Hanan, 196n, 203n

al-Asifa (“the storm”), 38, 39, 40, 41, 45, 164n

autonomy plans, 94, 106-7, 182n Austria, 94 Avneri, Uri, 183n Awad, Mubarak, 194n

Dahlan, Mohammad, 142, 143 Da’ud, Muhammad, 169n Dayan, Moshe, 92, 173n Declaration of Principles (DoP) (1993) see Oslo

accords (1993) Democratic Front for the Liberation of Palestine (DFLP), 50, 59, 60 and Jordan years, 74, 75, 81, 84, 168n, 169n and Lebanon years, 101, 171n, 177n, 181n, 183n, 185n, 186n, 1881 and post-Lebanon years, 108, 110, 117, 125,

144, 198n, 200n Dev Genc, 185n Dev Yol, 185n Dulles, John Foster, 27

Eagles of the Revolution, 196n East Jerusalem, 36, 126, 129, 137

Baader-Meinhof Gang, 15, 185n Ba’ath Party see Arab Ba’ath Party Badr Brigade, 188n Baghdad Pact (1955), 25, 27 Baker, James, 125, 126, 129, 130, 200n, 201n, 203n Barak, Ehud, 136-37, 206n Begin, Menahem, 90, 94, 96, 98, 100, 101, 102 Beilin, Yossi, 204n, 205n Beit Sahur, 199n

Be’ka Valley, 108, 110, 177n, 187n

Belgium, 94 Ben Bella, Ahmed, 164” Berri, Nabih, 185n

Black June see Fatah — Revolutionary Council (FRC) Black September Organization (BSO), 68-71, 168n, 172—73n, 176n, 178n Boumedienne, Huari, 165” Bourguiba, Habib, 80, 175n Brezhnev, Leonid, 95

Brigate Rose, 15 Britain, 25, 27-28, 44, 109, 131, 147, 191n Bush, George, 123, 129, 199n

Egypt

and al-Aqsa intifada (2000-4), 143-44, 146, 147 Arafat’s expulsion from (1957), 29, 161n and cross-border raids on Israel, 29, 38, 73 and diplomatic initiatives, 60, 79, 92, 106, 125,

144, 146, 168-69n disengagement agreements with Israel (1973-75), 79, 80, 84, 86, 174n, 178n and Fatah’s armed struggle, 38, 40, 41, 47, 52,

54, 163n and Israeli disengagement from Gaza Strip, 147, 148 and Lebanese civil war, 87, 96, 179n and October 1973 War, 77, 78 on “Palestinian entity,” 28, 34, 35, 36

and peace negotiations with Israel, 3, 20, 76, 84, 90, 92-93, 94, 96, 187n and PLO, 37, 50, 57, 58, 66, 73-74, 75, 87, 94, 126, 179n and regional status, 35, 38, 44, 73-74, 76, 77, 93, 126, 161n on resistance organizations, 57, 60, 62, 66, 73-74

Egypt (continued) Shtura agreement, 180n and Sinai Campaign (1956), 27-28, 161n

normative legitimacy (1965-67), 38, 39, 41 normative legitimacy (1967-68), 18, 45, 47, 48,

49, 50, 51

and Six Day War (1967), 45, 46

normative legitimacy (1968-70), 18, 55, 56—57,

and Syria, 35, 38, 76, 77

58

and Voice of Palestine radio station, 39, 127 see also; Mubarak, Husni; al-Nasser, Gamal abd; Sadat, Anwar; United Arab Republic

normative legitimacy (1971-73), 19, 64, 65, 71,

T2078 15 normative legitimacy (1974-82), 19, 82, 83, 84,

(UAR) Egyptian Revolutionary Command Council (RCC), 24, 27 environmental shifts see situational shifts

88, 91, 96, 97, 100 normative legitimacy (1983-87), 20, 104, 108, LOST aS normative legitimacy (1988-93), 118, 121-22,

ETA, 185n

131

European Community, 128 European Economic Community (EEC), Venice

normative legitimacy (1994-2000), 135, 137 normative legitimacy (2000-4), 22 occupied territories, 20-21, 91, 94, 108, 110-14

declaration, 94-95, 183n

European Union (EU), 142, 143, 145, 146

and PASC, 59

and PLO, 1) 18-19, 37-38, 57-59, 74, 75, 96, 99, 152, 154

Fahd, Crown Prince, 95, 183n Faisal, King of Saudi Arabia, 58

political political political political political political

Fanon, Franz, 33

Fatah, 160n and ANM, 29 and al-Aqsa intifada (2000-4), 1, 22, 138, 143, 144, 150-51, 207n Central Committee, 31, 56, 65, 69, 92, 133 and communal projects, 18, 55, 67, 71-72 diplomatic and political initiatives, 152, 154,

legitimacy, legitimacy legitimacy legitimacy legitimacy legitimacy

political legitimacy 94, 96, 98, 100 political legitimacy political legitimacy 124 : political legitimacy

155 diplomatic and political initiatives (1974-82), 19, 78, 79-84, 85, 91-97 diplomatic and political initiatives (1983-87), 104-10, 189n

regulative regulative regulative regulative

diplomatic and political initiatives (1988-93), 21, 121-26, 128, 129, 130-31, 132-33, 198-99n diplomatic and political initiatives (post-Oslo years), 135 142, 146, 147-48 early political credo (1959-65), 19-30 and Egypt, 29, 38, 40, 41, 47, 52, 54, 73, 93,

59, 60, regulative regulative 84, 88,

1, 15, 17, (1959-65), (1965-67), (1967-68), (1968-70), (1971-73),

154-56 30, 32 39, 41, 42, 45 48, 49 57, 58-59, 63 67, 70, 73

(1974-82), 82, 83, 84, 88, 91, (1983-87), 104, 108 (1988-93), 116, 121-22, 123,

(2000-4), 22 legitimacy, 1, 17, 153—55 legitimacy (1959-65), 17, 29-31 legitimacy (1967-68), 18, 48, 50, 51 legitimacy (1968-70), 18, 54-57, 58,

62 legitimacy (1970-73), 19, 64, 65, 72 legitimacy (1974-82), 19, 20, 82, 83, 91, 94, 96-97, 100

regulative legitimacy (1983-87), 104, 108, 110,

163n emergence of, 1, 16, 23, 29, 30, 34, 38, 160n,

LT Lass il regulative legitimacy (1988-93), 121, 131 regulative legitimacy (1994-2000), 21, 135, 137 regulative legitimacy (2000-4), 22, 140 and PA, 1, 3, 21, 135 and Revolutionary Council, 31, 56, 101 and Sinai Campaign (1956), 17, 26 and Six Day War (1967), 18, 44-45 as sole representative of Palestinians, 1, 4, 20, 75 and Soviet Union, 182n and strategy of phases, 19, 79-84, 88, 100-1, 104—S, 109, 123, 155, 199n and Syria, 101, 104, 198n and UNC, 117, 118, 119, 121 see also PLO

163n and idea of Palestinian state, 74-75, 141, 166n and institutional transformations, 1-5, 52, 68, 76, 104, 105, 122, 123, 152-56 and intifada (1987-91), 1, 3, 20-21, 113-14,

115-16, 117, 118, 119, 125, 131, 195n, 196n,

201n

and international terrorism, 68-70, 191n, 194-95n

and Iraq, 21, 127, 128 and Israel, 93, 94, 100, 183n and Jordan, 18, 19, 20, 53, 54, 60, 62-63, 104, 106-7, 109, 110, 114, 155, 167n, 191n, 194n and Lebanon (1971-73), 19, 64, 65-68, 71-72, 170n and Lebanon (1974-87), 2, 3, 20, 84, 85-91, 96,

Fatah — Revolutionary Council (FRC), 102, 176-77n, 181n, 182n, 191n, 201n, 204n

97-105, 108, 110, 155, 181, 185-86n

Fatah-Tanzim see Tanzim Fatahland, 66, 186n

normative legitimacy, 1, 17, 152, 154

normative legitimacy (1959-65), 25, 26, 30, 32,

Fayyad, Salam, 142, 206n, 207n

33

fedayeen, 59, 161n, 163n, 167n, 168n, 173n

220

=

ee Soneerh

Index

Filastinuna, 30 Finland, 94 FLN (Algerian National Liberation Front), 26,

and Washington talks, 131-32, 136, 204n see also Izz a-Din al-Kassam, 144 Hammami, Sa’id, 192n Hammouda, Yahya, 57

33, 42 Force 17, 70, 131, 191n, 199n

Hasan, King of Morocco, 178n

Ford, Gerald, 79, 86, 178n

al-Hasan, Hani, 31, 33, 108, 109, 128, 162n, 191n al-Hasan, Khaled, 31, 94, 108, 162n, 200n Hawatmeh, Nayif, 50, 127, 1687, 175n, 197n Helms, Richard, 178n Heroes of Return, 165n, 166n

France, 26, 27-28, 103, 128, 179n, 183n, 187n,

188n, 202n Franjiyya, Suleiman, 86, 177n Franjiyya, Tony, 181n Frei, Elias, 193n

Heroes of Vengeance, 165n Hizbollah, 12, 140, 148, 188n, 203n Hussein, King of Jordan, 77, 81, 114, 190n

Gaza Strip, 27, 163n diplomatic initiatives on, 73, 94, 106, 121,

and diplomatic initiatives, 53, 60, 61, 73, 92,

132-34, 182n, 200n, 205n and Fatah’s armed struggle, 31, 46, 48, 163n, 164n, 167n, 171n Fatah’s return to (1980s), 20-21, 110-14 and idea of Palestinian state, 74 intifada (1987-93), 20-21, 113-14, 115, 119, 194n, 195n, 196n, 202n, 203n

107, 110, 166n, 175n and Fatah’s armed struggle (1965-68), 38, 53

and Iraqi demand for Palestinian republic, 35

and West Bank, 73, 107, 120 Hussein, Saddam, 126, 128 Husseini, Faisal, 121, 122, 131, 193n, 194n, 196n, 197n, 202n, 203n

and Jordanian civil war (1970), 61, 169n

on “Palestinian entity,” 36-37 and PLO, 40, 81, 1687, 175n pro-Western stance, 28, 166n

and resistance organizations, 61, 62, 75

Islamic organizations in, 119, 147 Israeli administration of, 75, 76, 170n

Israeli disengagement plan (2003-5), 147-51 Israeli-PA talks on, 135, 145 Jewish settlements in, 76, 106 see also al-Aqsa intifada (2000-4); occupied territories General Mobilization Committee, 99 General Union of Palestinian Students, 25—26, 29, 31, 35, 161-62n General Union of Palestinian Teachers, 26 General General Geneva Geneva Geneva

India, 94 institutional pillars, 8-15, 158, 159n

see also normative legitimacy; political legitimacy; regulative legitimacy institutional transformations, 7-10, 13—15, 17,

152-56 and Fatah see Fatah, institutional transformations intifada (1987-93), 115-34 and armed struggle, 116, 119, 129, 195—98n and civil disobedience, 116, 118, 119, 1997, 202-3n and Fatah, 1, 3, 20-21, 113-14, 115-19, 195n,

Union of Palestinian Women, 26, 184n Union of Palestinian Workers, 26, 184n Conference (1973), 79, 80, 175n Convention, 198n initiative, 146

German—Arab Friendship Society, 191n Golan Heights, 45, 52, 67, 132, 167n, 187n, 190n Gorbachev, Mikhail, 129 Greece, 65, 94, 191n Green Line and al-Aqsa intifada (2000-4), 139, 140, 144, 146 and intifada (1987-91), 116, 120, 196n, 202n

196n

Gaza Strip, 20-21, 113-14, 115, 119, 194n, 195n, 196n Green Line, 116, 120, 195n, 202n and Hamas, 118, 119-20, 129, 196n, 197n

Iraqi financial support of, 127 and Islamic organizations, 117, 118-19

and Israel, 20-21, 114, 115, 116, 118, 120, 124, 126, 195—96n, 199n and PLO, 3, 20, 114, 115, 116, 118, 119, 196” West Bank, 20-21, 113-14, 115, 119, 194n,

see also occupied territories Green movement, 15 Gromyko, Andrei, 91, 92 Gulf crisis (1990-91), 21, 126, 127-29, 201—-2n Gulf states, 58, 71-72, 77, 86, 108, 126, 127-28, 131, 179n, 201—2n

195n, 199n

see also al-Aqsa intifada (2000-4); occupied territories Iran, 95, 140, 183, 185n, 191—92n, 195n, 207n Iraq and ALF, 50, 81, 166n, 184-85n

Habash, George, 50, 81, 127, 162n, 165n, 166n, 176n, 197n, 198n, 200n

Habib, Philip, 99, 100, 102, 103

inter-Arab relations, 25, 27, 28, 35, 93, 107,

Haddad, Sa’ad, 89, 98, 184n Hamas, 12, 136, 207n and al-Agsa intifada (2000-4), 139, 140,

161n, 163n, 180n and Fatah, 52, 54, 60, 101, 127, 182n Gulf crisis (1990-91), 21, 126, 127-29, 198n, 202n and Lebanon, 87, 88, 179n, 188n

143-48, 150, 207n and intifada (1987-93), 118, 119-20, 129, 196n, 197n, 202n, 203n

221

and post-Oslo years, 135-37 and PA, 135-37, 145-46, 148-51 and Palestinian mutual recognition issue, 3, 20, 92,95, 123, 124; 125, 133-34, 150 and PLO, 122, 125-26, 132-34, 201n and regional conference idea (1991), 130 reprisals inside Lebanon (1971-73), 65-66, 67, 68, 70, 171-72n reprisals inside Lebanon (1974-82), 85, 90, 92, 97-99, 100, 101, 180n, 182n, 184-85n, 186n

Iraq (continued) and and and and

October 1973 War, 78 Palestinian issue, 35, 80, 161m, 163n, 192n PFLP, 60, 81, 201n PLA, 163n

and resistance organizations, 60, 66, 102 Tammuz nuclear reactor attack, 186n, 187n

war with Iran, 95, 192n Irbid, 51, 61, 170n Ireland, 11, 94 Irish Republican Army (IRA), 11, 15, 185”

and separation fence, 146, 147, 148

Islamic Jihad, 118, 136, 194n

and Sinai Campaign (1956), 27-28, 161n

and al-Aqsa intifada (2000-4), 139, 143-45, 146, 147, 207n Islamic organizations, 25, 111, 112, 113-14, 132, 194n, 202n

and Six Day War (1967), 18, 45

Soviet Jewish immigration to, 126, 127, 201n and United States, 27, 28, 77, 86, 105, 151n,

186n and Syria, 43, 70, 79, 80, 99, 132, 174n, 178n,

and al-Aqsa intifada (2000-4), 139, 143-46,

147, 148

177n, 179n, 185n and Tammuz nuclear reactor attack, 186n, 187n and War of Independence (1948), 24, 161n

and intifada (1987-93), 117, 118-19

and representation in PA, 144, 147-48 see also Hamas; Islamic Jihad; Muslim Brotherhood Israel and al-Aqsa intifada (2000-4), 22, 138-46, 147-50

and water carrier project, 36, 41 Israel Defense Forces (IDF), 52, 54, 181n

and al-Aqsa intifada (2000-4), 138-39, 141, 142, 144, 145, 149 and Israeli disengagement from Gaza Strip, 147, 148 and Lebanon, 2, 67, 90-91, 92, 98, 99, 100, 101, 102, 103, 182n, 186n, 188n

Arafat’s recognition of, 121 and cross-border raids, 18, 27, 29, 38, 39-40, 42-43, 51, 52, 65, 66, 67, 68, 70, 84, 97-98, 102, 114, 177n, 180n, 184-85n, 199n and definition of terrorism, 124, 199n demographic factor in, 113, 126, 147-48, 149 and diplomatic initiatives, 21, 47, 60, 79, 92, 94-95, 106, 107, 121, 125, 130-34, 135, 142, 144, 165n, 168—69n, 182n, 183n, 198n, 200n,

and October 1973 War, 76, 78

Israeli Arabs, 120, 1831, 195—96n Israeli

Council for Israeli-Palestinian Peace, 183n

Israeli Democratic Front for Peace and Equality, 183n

205n

Israeli Labor Party, 76, 94, 126, 131, 136, 201n, 202n, 204n Israeli Likud party, 90, 98, 111-12, 126, 136, 139, 141, 194n, 204n

and disengagement from Gaza proposal (2003-5), 147-50 and Egypt, 3, 20, 32, 76, 79, 80, 84, 86, 90, 92-93, 94, 96, 174n, 178n, 182n, 187n and Fatah 2, 30, 51, 94, 183n and Fatah’s armed struggle (1965-67), 38,

Israeli Terrorism Prevention Act (1948), 199n

Italy, 94, 103 Izz a-Din al-Kassam, 144 see also Hamas

42-43, 163-64n Fatah’s armed struggle (1967-68), 18, 48, 52, 53

Fatah’s armed struggle (1968-70), 54, 1677, 171n and France, 27, 28 “Gaza first” proposal, 132 and Gaza Strip disengagement (2003-5), 147-51 and Gulf crisis (1990-91), 128 and intifada (1987-93), 20-21, 114, 115-20, 124, 126, 195—96n, 199n

Japan, 94

Japanese Red Army Brigades, 173n Jericho, 132, 205n Jerusalem, 94, 122, 131, 133, 144, 145, 173n, 194n, 195n

see also East Jerusalem Jezzin, 68 Jibril, Ahmed, 50, 162n, 163n, 165n, 168n, 171n, 192n, 194n Jordan

Jewish settlements in occupied territories, 21, 76, 94, 106, 112, 133, 135, 136, 1897 and Jordan, 18, 43, 52, 53, 54, 61, 110-11, 167n

and ANM,

164n

and al-Aqsa intifada (2000-4), 143 civil war (1970), 61, 169n

and Lebanon, 2, 20, 90-91, 98-99, 101-3, 104, 108, 183, 177n, 179n, 187-88n, 190n and Munich Olympic Games, 70, 173n

cross-border raids on Israel, 18, 38, 39-40,

and occupied territories, 75, 107, 111-12,

and diplomatic initiatives, 60, 61, 79, 92, 94,

42-43, 51, 52

173-74n, 190n, 193n and October 1973 War, 77-78 and Oslo talks (1992), 1, 3, 132, 204—5n

106, 107, 144, 168-69n, 175n, 190n and East Bank, 38, 52, 107, 163n

and Egypt, 35, 44, 73, 77

222

and Fatah, 2, 20, 51, 52, 56, 62, 104, 106-7, 108, 109, 110, 127, 155, 170-71n, 191n and Fatah’s armed struggle (1965-68), 18, 38, 39-40, 43, 51-53, 163n, 164n. 166-67n and inter-Arab relations, 35, 44

Fatah in (1971-73), 19, 64, 65-8, 71-2, 170n, 171n Fatah in (1974-82), 2, 3, 84, 85-91, 96, 97-101, 104, 105, 155, 185—86n Fatah in (1987), 20, 110

and Israel, 18, 43, 52, 53, 54, 76, 110-11 and Karamah battle, 18, 53, 54, 167n

Good Fence, 177n Israeli reprisals (1971-73), 65—6, 67, 68, 70, 76, 171-72n Israeli reprisals (1974-82), 85, 90-92, 97-99,

and Lebanon War (1982), 188n and October 1973 War, 78

and occupied territories, 93, 114

100, 101, 180n, 182n, 184—5n, 186n, 192n Palestinian refugees in, 64, 65, 66, 67, 71-72, 86, 87, 88, 97, 98, 110, 170n, 180n, 186n

and Palestinian population, 166n and PLA, 163n

and PLO, 40, 44, 61-62, 75, 93, 94, 107, 109, 120, 114, 170n, 190n, 194n and resistance organizations, 19, 53, 59-63,

peace agreement with Israel (1983), 190n and PLO (1982), 2, 104, 105, 110, 170n and PLA, 163n and resistance organizations (1971-73), 19, 62,

168n, 169n and Six Day War (1967), 45, 46

64-68, 70-72, 170n, 171—72n

and US, 44, 107, 111 and West Bank, 24, 48, 51, 73, 75, 79, 87, 107,

and resistance organizations (1974-82), 84-91,

96, 97-101, 105 Shrite community, 89, 98, 171n

110, 120, 174n, 190n see also Hussein, King of Jordan; Palestinian—Jordanian confederation

Shtura agreement, 89, 180n

and Syria, 86-88, 89-90, 97, 99, 177n, 179n Ta’if agreement (1989), 203n

Jordanian Communist Party (JCP), 84 Jumayyil, Bashir, 89, 99, 102, 181n, 190n Jumayyil, Pierre, 67, 85, 98 Junblat, Kamal, 85, 89, 177n Junblat, Walid, 186n

Tripoli, 108 and UNIFIL presence, 90, 91, 98, 181n, 186,

June 1967 War see Six Day War (1967)

187-88n see also Maronite elite

187n and War of 1982, 2, 20, 101—3, 104, 183n,

Karamah, 18, 52, 53, 54, 55, 56, 59, 62, 67, 167n Karamah brigade, 68

legitimacy

Karami, Rashid, 66, 177n

see also normative legitimacy; political legitimacy; regulative legitimacy Libya, 77, 80, 107, 180n, 182n

and institutionalization, 7-10, 158n, 159n

Khalaf, Salah (Abu Iyad), 59, 108, 128, 163n, 165n 171n, 176n, 182n, 191n

and Fatah, 47, 60, 101 and October 1973 War, 78 and Palestinian resistance, 66, 81, 96, 163n, 168n

on armed struggle, 33, 38, 78, 83, 93, 96, 115,

200n assassination of, 202n and BSO actions, 69, 70, 172—73n and founding Fatah, 29, 30, 161—62n and intifada (1987-93), 116, 123, 195n, 199n, 201n Khomeini, Ayatollah, 183n

Tripoli assembly (1977), 93 and Western responses to terrorism, 191n, 195n

Kissinger, Henry, 79, 84, 86, 178n

Madrid peace conference (1991), 130, 132, 151

Kuwait, 87, 127-28, 180n, 182n, 202n

Maronite elite (Lebanon)

Arafat’s expulsion to (1957), 29

and Israel, 98-99, 101, 102, 108, 181n and Lebanese civil war, 85, 86, 87, 179n political status of, 65, 97, 177n, 190n

assistance to resistance organizations, 42, 66, 163n, 168n and creation of Fatah, 29-31

Maronite National Liberation Party, 177n Mitchell, George, 141, 206n Morocco, 66, 78, 178” Mubarak, Husni, 96, 131, 204n criticism of Palestinians, 109, 126, 127, 191n

Larsen, Terje, 204n Lebanese Front, 89, 99, 177n, 179n Lebanese National Movement (LNM), 85-89, 97,

and ten-point plan, 125

98, 185n, 186n Lebanese National Party, 177n Lebanon and Amal, 110 Beirut, 25, 54, 65-66, 71, 97, 100, 169n, 185n civil war, 85-88, 90, 177n, 179n

Muhsin, Zohair, 175n

mujahiddin, 194n

Mujahiddin Khalq, 185n Munich Olympic Games, 70, 173n, 178n

Muslim Brotherhood, 25, 27, 29, 77, 118, 161n, 162n, 164n, 194n

cross-border raids on Israel, 38, 52, 65, 66, 67,

68, 70, 97-98, 102 Nabatiyyeh, 68, 100, 1867

and Fatah’s armed struggle (1965-67), 38, 40,

al-naqbah (“the catastrophe”), 24

52, 164n, 167n

223

al-Nasser, Gamal abd, 29, 58, 60, 66 and ANM, 28, 39 death of, 62 Fatah’s armed struggle (1965-67), 38, 40, 41,

Palestine Liberation Front — Path of Return, 39

Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO) and Amal, 98, 110, 185” and Amman accord, 108

Fatah’s armed struggle (1967-68), 46, 47

and ANM, 39 and Camp David peace accords (1979), 182n

opposition to Western influence, 27, 28, 44

and ceasefire agreements, 89, 90, 91, 100-1,

164n

on “Palestinian entity,” 28, 34, 35, 36 and pan-Arabism, 24, 25, 32 and PLO, 58, 61, 170n and Six Day War, 44, 46 Netanyahu, Binyamin, 136 Nixon, Richard, 60 non-aligned bloc, 27, 44, 77 normative legitimacy, 8, 9-10, 11, 12-13, 14-15, 152-55 and Fatah see Fatah, normative legitimacy and PA see PA, normative legitimacy and PLO see PLO, normative legitimacy North Korea, 42, 52, 171n North Vietnam, 42, 58

172n, 181n

Central Council, 61, 92, 110, 192, 195n Covenant, 45, 58, 125, 165n

and compulsory conscription, 88, 99 and Declaration of Principles (DoP) (1993), 21,

132-33, 135 and diplomatic and political initiatives, 61, 88,

91-92, 95, 106-7, 121-26, 128, 129-31, 182n, 189n, 198-99n, 200n and Egypt, 50, 58, 73, 87, 93, 94, 126, 179n establishment of, 18, 34, 35-37, 73, 161n, 163n Executive Committee, 37, 58, 118, 180n

and Fatah, 1, 18-19, 39, 57-9, 74-75, 96, 105, 109-10, 152, 154, 168” international status of, 2-3, 19, 81-82, 94 General Mobilization Committee, 99

North Yemen, 1807 Norway see Oslo talks (1992)

Nusseibeh, Sari, 194n, 196n, 201n

as government-in-exile, 71-72, 73 and Gulf crisis (1990-91), 126-29 and Hamas, 119, 131-32, 204n and idea of Palestinian state, 74

occupied territories aid to, 93, 111, 120, 127-28, 197n, 198n, 201-2n cross-border raids on Israel from, 84, 114

and intifada (1987-93), 3, 20, 114-19, 196n

diplomatic initiatives on, 92, 94, 95, 106-7, 121,

and Iraq, 127, 182n and Israel, 125-26, 132-34, 201n and Israeli mutual recognition, 3, 20, 92, 95, 123, 125, 133-34, 150 and Jordan, 40, 44, 61-62, 75, 93, 94, 107, 109, 110-11, 114, 120, 170n, 190n, 194n and Lebanon, 2, 71, 84, 85-91, 96, 97-103, 104, 105, 170n, 185n, 187-88n normative legitimacy, 154-55 normative legitimacy (1965-67), 39 normative legitimacy (1968-70), 50, 57

182n, 193n

Fatah’s armed struggle (1967-68), 18, 46, 47-51 Fatah’s armed struggle (1974-82), 83-84, 177n

institutional buildup in the territories, 20-21,

108, 110-14, 194n Israeli administration of, 75, 107, 111-12, 114, 173—74n, 190n Jewish settlements in, 21, 76, 94, 106, 112, 133,

135, 136, 189n see also al-Aqsa intifada (2000-4); Gaza Strip; intifada (1987-93); Islamic organizations; West Bank October 1973 War, 76-78

normative legitimacy (1974-82), 20, 82, 95, 98,

100, 103 normative legitimacy (1983-87), 106, 109 normative legitimacy (1988-93), 116, 126, 130,

Operation Defensive Shield, 141 Operation Litani, 90, 96, 97, 98, 185n, 186n Organization of Non-Aligned States, 77

131,133 and occupied territories, 93, 106, 110, 111, 112 113, 120, 174n, 202n, 197n

Oslo accords (1993), 21, 132-34, 135, 205n

Oslo talks (1992), 1, 3, 21, 22, 132, 204—Sn

and Oslo talks (1992), 1, 3, 132, 204—5n

and PASC, 59 political initiatives (1974-82), 91-97

Palestine Armed Struggle Command (PASC), 59, 60, 62, 66, 74, 89, 180n “Palestine first” notion, 16, 26, 32, 36

political legitimacy, 50, 154-55 political legitimacy (1968-70), 57, 59

Palestine Investments Fund, 207n

political legitimacy (1971-73), 77

Palestine Liberation Army (PLA), 37, 40, 58, 59, 62, 74, 163n, 171n and Lebanon,

>

political legitimacy (1974-82), 20, 82, 91. 100

political legitimacy (1983-87), 20, 108, 109 political legitimacy (1988-93), 121, 126, 128, 129 1B0MIS1.133 regulative legitimacy, 20, 154-55 regulative legitimacy (1974-82), 82, 95, 98, 101, 103 regulative legitimacy (1983-87), 106, 108, 109 regulative legitimacy (1988-93), 116, 130, 131, 133

86, 87, 103, 179n

and Syria, 168, 170n, 1887 Palestine Liberation Forces, 168” Palestine Liberation Front (PLF), 35, 41, 89, 101, 163n, 180n, 1991, 200n armed activities, 126, 165, 167n, 186n, 191n, 192n and Fatah, 99, 162n

224

|

Index

and UNSCR 242, 92, 107, 109, 113, 121, 122, 123

Palestinian Legislative Council (PLC), 135,

142-43, 146 Palestinian National Authority see Palestinian

on terrorism, 122, 124, 199-200n and Saudi Arabia, 94, 183n

Authority (PA)

Shtura agreement, 89, 180n

Palestinian National Front (PNF), 75—76, 84, 174n Palestinian National Liberation Organization see Fatah

as sole representative of Palestinians, 1, 3, 20,

77, 81, 82, 189n and strategy of phases, 80-81, 95, 104-5, 109, 122, 123, 175n, 178n, 199n Supreme Military Council, 99 and Syria, 121, 180n, 182n, 189n, 203n

Palestinian National Salvation Front (PNSF),

108, Palestinian Palestinian 186n Palestinian

and Third World states, 181n

and UN partition plan, 3, 21, 122 and UNC, 118, 119 and US, 3, 20, 21, 86, 94, 100, 107, 121, 122-26 130, 132, 133-34, 177—79n, 183n, 189n, 199-200n

5

Palestine National Council (PNC), 56, 61, 76, 121,

133 authority of resolutions, 123, 130, 197n Sessions: first session (1964), 36-37 fourth session (1968), 58

fifth session (1969), 58 seventh session (1970), 60 eighth session (1971), 74, 75 ninth session (1971), 75 eleventh session (1973), 75 twelfth session (1974), 80, 175n thirteenth session (1977), 89, 92, 180n, 181n, 182n

fourteenth session (1979), 93 fifteenth session (1981), 95, 99-100, 183n

131, 190” National Union, 35 Popular Struggle Front (PPSF), 108, refugee camps

Ashbal organization, 55

Beirut, 186n Burj al-Barajneh, 186n, 192n Christian atrocities in, 87, 192n

civilian militias, 59, 102 Fatah cells and bases, 31, 38, 52, 56 in Jordan, 51, 110

in Lebanon, 40, 64, 65, 66, 71, 86, 97, 110, 171n, 188n in occupied territories, 115, 147, 171n

and Operation Defensive Shield, 141 and PLO, 88 recruitment campaigns in, 35 Sabra and Shatila, 186n, 192n Sidon, 110 Tal al-Za’atar siege, 87, 180n

Tripoli, Lebanon, 110 Palestinian refugees al-Aqsa intifada (2000-4), 138

sixteenth session (1983), 106, 189-90n seventeenth session (1984), 106 eighteenth session (1987), 110, 114

and diplomatic initiatives, 47, 91, 92, 94, 121, 133, 137, 150,165” and Fatah, 31, 38, 86, 138

nineteenth session (1988), 122, 198n

in Jordan, 161n, 166n in Lebanon, 19, 51, 64, 67, 71-72, 87, 88, 98,

twentieth session (1991), 129, 203n

Palestine National Fund, 72

110, 170n, 171n, 172n, 186n

Palestine Popular Liberation Front, 166n

numbers displaced, 24, 160n

Palestinian Authority (PA) al-Aqsa intifada (2000-4), 22, 138-43, 144-46, 147-51 Camp David summit (2000), 22, 136-37 Declaration of Principles (DoP) (1993), 135, 205n diplomacy, 139, 140, 141, 142, 143, 144, 145, 146, 148, 149, 206n establishment of (1994), 1

political status of, 24, 26, 123

and Fatah, 1, 3, 21, 135

institutional regression of, 22, 137-43 and Israel, 135-37, 145 and Israeli disengagement from Gaza Strip, 147-48 normative legitimacy, 21—22, 137, 138, 141, 150

political legitimacy, 22, 136, 137, 138, 141 regulative legitimacy, 21-22, 138, 139, 141, 144,

150 Palestinian Communist Party (PCP), 112, 117, 119 “Palestinian entity,” 28, 34, 35, 36, 37, 164n, 175n,

177-78n

and resistance organizations, 35, 64, 65, 71, 86 Palestinian Salvation Front (PSF), 89, 99-100,

101, 181n Palestinian—Jordanian confederation, 107

Palestinian—Jordanian delegation and proposed talks (1985), 107, 191n

and regional conference idea (1991), 129-30 and Shultz initiative (1988), 121 and Washington talks (1991—93), 130-32

Palestinian—Lebanese Higher Committee for Palestinian Affairs, 66, 172n pan-Arabism, 23-24, 25, 37, 49, 50, 73, 177n, 189n Peres, Shimon, 110, 114, 126, 135-36, 205n Phalange Party, 67, 85, 90, 98, 100, 177n, 185n, 192n plane hyackings, 61, 83, 169n, 176n political legitimacy, 6, 9-10, 13, 15, 26, 150, 152-55 and Fatah see Fatah, political legitimacy and PA see PA, political legitimacy and PLO see PLO, political legitimacy

Index

Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine —

Russia, 132, 142

General Command (PFLP-GC), 50, 60, 81,

108, 162n, 168n, 173n, 194n

Sadat, Anwar, 73, 76, 77, 81, 94, 96, 101. 174n, 179n

and cross-border raids, 177n, 194n and presence in Lebanon, 108, 171, 180n, 186n

and diplomacy with Israel, 90, 92-93, 94, 96,

Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine (PFLP)

175n, 182n

Sa’iga, 50, 58, 59, 74, 167n, 170n, 173n, 179n and Fatah, 73, 81, 101, 183”

armed struggle of, 59, 61, 62, 65, 84, 139, 166n,

167n, 169n, 172n DFLP split from, 168n and Fatah, 50, 59, 60, 67, 74, 75, 84, 101, 168n

presence in Lebanon, 66, 86, 87, 89,108, 1867, 188n creation of, 166n Salameh, Ali Hasan, 178n Samed Institute, 72, 184, 205n San’a, Voice of Palestine radio station, 118, 1967 Sarkis, Elias, 87, 93, 1887 Sartawi, Isam, 183n, 192n Saudi Arabia

and formation of PNSF, 108 and international terrorism, 61, 65, 69, 70, 83,

169n, 172n, 173n, 177n and intifada (1987-93), 117, 119, 125, 129, 196n, 197n, 199n, 200n and Iraq, 60, 81, 201n

in Lebanon, 71, 85, 100, 101, 170n, 171n, 181n, 185n, 186n, 1881

and al-Aqsa intifada (2000-4), 141, 143 Crown Prince Fahd’s plan, 95, 183—84n and Egypt, 35, 44, 77, 92, 109 and Fatah’s armed struggle (1965-67), 40, 42, 47 financial aid to Palestinian groups, 58, 66, 94, 163n, 168n, 183n

PFLP-GC split from, 162n

and PLO, 58, 60, 74, 75, 81, 99-100, 110, 179n, 180n, 198n, 1991 Shtura agreement, 89 Portugal, 94 Progressive Revolutionary Front, 35, 162n “propaganda by the deed,” 49, 166n protest movements see social movements

and Jordan, 44, 62, 75 and PLO, 94, 100, 122, 127 Shtura agreement, 1807 and United States, 44, 107 Saunders, Harold M., 177n Savir, Uri, 205n Shabiba councils, 112, 117, 1967 Shamir, Yitzhak, 116, 125, 126, 129 Sharm el-Sheikh summit, 2067

Qaddumi, Farugq, 31, 108, 121, 1837, 190n, 1991 al-Qaeda, 139 Qassem, Abd-Karim, 35 Quartet, 142, 143, 144, 149

Qurei, Ahmed (Abu Ala), 146, 148, 205n

Sharon, Ariel, 190n

Rabin, Yitzhak, 116, 125, 126, 131, 132, 135,

and al-Aqsa intifada (2000-4), 138, 139, 144, 148, 150, 207n

204n, 205n

Rajoub, Jibril, 142

and Lebanon War (1982), 101, 102. 187n

Rantisi, Abdul-Aziz, 207n

Sha’th, Nabil, 123, 145 Shtura agreement, 89-90, 180n Shultz, George, 120-21, 198” Shuqairy, Ahmed, 36, 37, 38, 39, 41, 46, 57, 58,

Reagan, Ronald, 99, 100, 102, 106, 107, 109, 120,

186n, 188n, 189n Red Army Faction see Baader-Meinhof Gang Red Crescent Society, 26, 62, 72, 184n Red Eagle, 196n Red Line, 90, 99, 177n, 179n refugee camps see Palestinian refugee camps refugees see Palestinian refugees regulative legitimacy, 9-10, 11, 12-13, 14-15,

162n

Sidon, 68, 110, 177n, 186n Sinai Campaign (1956), 17, 26-29, 161” Siniora, Hana, 194n, 196n situational shifts, 4-5, 13-14, 17 Camp David summit (2000), 22. 137

152-55 Fatah see Fatah, regulative legitimacy PA see PA, regulative legitimacy PLO see PLO, regulative legitimacy

expulsion of Fatah expulsion of Fatah 105 formation of PLO, intifada (1987-93),

rejectionist fronts, 81, 93, 108, 165n, 178n, 192n,

199n

from Jordan (1970), 19 from Lebanon (1982). 34 20-21, 114

Karamah, 53 October 1973 War, 76, 78

and diplomatic and political initiatives (1981-87), 105-6, 183n

Oslo (DoP), 133

and violent campaigns, 81, 83, 87, 109 resistance organizations see individual organiz-

Sinai Campaign (1956), 26 Six Day War (1967), 18, 43

ations al-Rifa’i, Nur al-Din, 66 roadmap for peace, 142, 144, 146, 147, 148, 149,

Six Day War (1967), 18, 43, 4445 social movements, 6-7, 10-15, 153, 156

South Lebanese Army (SLA), 89, 90, 98, 99, 1817,

207n Rogers Plan, 60-61, 168n, 169n

184n, 186n, 187n South Yemen, 93, 188”

226

Z Index

Soviet Union, 66, 81, 176n, 182n and diplomatic initiatives, 60-61, 79, 91, 95,

106, 129, 168n, 169n

and Egypt, 44, 77 Jewish emigration, 126, 127, 201n and Jordanian civil war (1970), 61 and Lebanon, 66, 179n and October 1973 war, 78 and recognition of PLO, 81

and Sinai Campaign (1956), 27-28 Spain, 94 Sudan, 66, 180n

Suez Crisis see Sinai Campaign (1956) Sweden, 122 Sweidani, Ahmed, 40-41

Syria and diplomatic initiatives, 92, 106, 129, 131, 132, 146, 175n, 190n

disengagement agreement with Israel (1974), 79, 80, 174n, 178n and Egypt, 35, 38, 40, 76, 77 and Fatah’s armed struggle (1965-67), 29, 31,

35, 38, 40-42, 43, 45, 163n, 164n and Fatah’s armed struggle (1967-68), 47, 48, S52, 04: and Fatah’s armed struggle (1971-73), 19, 70, 12-13 and Fatah, strategic coordination with, 101, 104, 198n and Islamic organizations, 207n and Jordan, 44, 61

and Lebanon, 86-90, 97, 99, 102, 103, 108, 110, 177n, 180n, 181n, 185n, 188n and October 1973 War, 78

and PLA, 163n 168n, 170n and PLO, 93, 95, 107, 121, 180n, 182n, 189n, 203n

and resistance organizations, 19, 60, 62, 66, (23 N10K Shtura agreement, 89, 90, 180n and Six Day War (1967), 45, 46 and terrorism, 195n

see also United Arab Republic (UAR) Taifagreement (1989), 203n

al-Tall, Wasfi, 69, 168n, 169n, 172—73n Tanzim, 138-39, 143, 144 Temple Mount, 138, 201n Tenet, George, 141, 207n terrorist organizations, 6—7, 10-13 institutional transformations, 14, 15, 153, 156 normative legitimacy, 14, 15

political legitimacy, 15, 153 regulative legitimacy, 11, 15, 153 situational shifts, 14

see also individual organizations MUGS ley Con, 123. 12a IOS as las) 136, 143, 188n, 191n, 195n, 201n, 204n Turkey, 25

Turkish People’s Liberation Army (TPLA), 185n Turkish People’s Liberation Front (TPLF), 185n Tyre, 68, 186n

nified Arab Command

(UAC), 36, 37, 40, 43

SiGe nified Command ofthe Palestinian Resistance

(UCPR), 60, 62, 74 Se nified National Command

of the Uprising (UNC), 117-19, 120, 121, 124, 129, 196n, 197n, 198n, 203n nited Arab Republic (UAR), 28, 35, 161n

Ke nited Nations, 3, 20, 21, 28, 100, 122, 123, 128

General Assembly, 81-82, 122, 124, 176n, 178n

United Nations Interim Force in Lebanon (UNIFIL), 90, 91, 98, 181n, 186n, 187n United Nations Relief Works Agency (UNRWA), 25, 72, 201n, 202n United Nations Security Council Resolution (UNSCR) 181, 122, 123 United Nations Security Council Resolution (UNSCR) 242, 76, 77, 78, 86, 165n adoption of(1967), 47 Arab response to, 92, 125, 190n Palestinian response to of, 80, 91, 92, 107, 109, 1135 1219122) 12851827 and US diplomatic initiatives, 91-92, 106, 198n United Nations Security Council Resolution (UNSCR) 338 adoption of(1973), 78 Arab response to, 125, 190” Palestinian response to, 86, 109, 113, 122, 123,

182n United Nations Security Council Resolution (UNSCR) 425, 90 United States Bush (George) administration, 123, 139, 1991 and Baker plan, 125, 126, 200n, 201n and intifada (1987-93), 124, 199n

and regional conference (1991), 129-30 Bush (George W.) administration, 146, 148, 150

and al-Aqsa intifada (2000-4), 140-42 and roadmap for peace, 142, 144, 146 Carter administration, 90, 91-92, 181n, 184n

Clinton administration, 130-32, 136 and Egypt, 27, 29, 44, 107 Ford administration, 79, 86, 178” and Israel, 27, 28, 77, 86, 99, 185n, 186n and Jordan, 44, 61, 107, 111

mediation of disengagement agreements, 79, 80, 84, 86, 174n, 178n Nixon administration, 60, 77, 79 and October 1973 war, 78 and Rogers plan, 60-61, 168n, 169”

and PLO, 3, 20, 21, 86, 94, 100, 103, 107, 109, 121, 122-26, 128, 130, 132, 133-34, 177-79n, 183n, 189n, 199-200n Reagan administration, 99, 100, 102, 106, 107,

109, 120, 122, 186n, 188n, 189n, 191n and Lebanon War (1982), 102, 187n, 1881 and Shultz initiative (1988), 120-21, 198n and Syria, 99, 129, 179n, 185n and Sinai Campaign (1956), 27, 28, 161n and Saudi Arabia, 44, 107 on terrorism,124, 199n and UNSCR 242, 47, 86, 91-92, 109, 165n

Urayqat, Sa’ib, 1931

Venice declaration see European Economic Community (EEC)

48. 163m, 1642, 167n and intifada (1987-93), 20-21, 113-14, 115, 117, 119, 1942, 195m, 1997 Israeli administration of, 75, 173” Israeli withdrawal concerns, 135, 136 Jewish settlements in, 76, 106, 112, 148 and Jordan, 48, 106, 107, 110, 120, 190” Jordanian claims to, 51, 73, 75, 79. 87, 107 and Six Day War (1967), 18, 45, 1652

Vietcong, 42, 45-46

see also al-Aqsa intifada (2000-4); occupied

USSR see Soviet Union

Vance, Cyrus, 91, 92 Vanguards of Popular Liberation War Organization, 166n Vanguards of Popular Liberation War Organization — Thunderbolt Forces, 1667

Village League, 190m, 1937 violent struggle see armed struggle Voice of Palestine radio station, 39, 118. 127, 2017 Wadi Haddad Faction, 1771 Waldheim, Kurt, 100

Walters, Vernon, 1787

War of Attrition (1969-70). 60. 68, 73 War of Independence (1948). 24, 1617 Washington talks (1991-93), 130-32

al-Wazir, Khalil (Abu Jihad). 29-30, 42. 69, 84, 105, 108, 117, 118, 1962 Weathermen Underground, 15 feizmann, Fzer, 98

West Bank, 35, 74, 1747 and al-Agsa intifada, 141, 146, 147 diplomatic initiatives on, 73, 94, 106, 107, 121, 132-34, 182m, 205m and Fatah, 91, 101, 108 and Fatah’s armed struggle (1965-70). 38. 46.

territories Western Sector, 131 Western states

influence in Middle East, 23, 25, 27, 28, 44, 127 and terrorism. 69-70, 82-83, 195” see also Britain: France; United States Women’s Union for Social Works, 112 Workers Union, 2027

al-Yafi, Abdullah, 66 Yarmuk brigade, 68, 172” Yassin, Sheikh Ahmed, 147, 148, 207m Yemen, 35, 127 Yom Kippur War see October 1973 War Youths of the Revenge, 166” Zamir Commission, 2011

Zarqga, 61, 169” Zinni, Anthony, 141

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