Farewell, Arafat
Nov 19, 2004
It was while I was travelling in the People's Republic of China that the bad news I had dreaded, but expected, came
John Nagenda
UGANDA’S No1 COLUMNIST..INFORMED, CONTROVERSIAL AND PROVOCATIVE
It was while I was travelling in the People's Republic of China that the bad news I had dreaded, but expected, came. Yasser Arafat (or to give him his full name: Muhammad Abd al-Raman Arafat al-Qudua al-Husseini), President (in all but name) of Palestine (in all but name), had breathed his last at 75. He had finally used up all his nine lives, including brutal treatment by Israel’s Sharon in the very place which is now his resting spot, pending a future time when part of Jerusalem belongs, rightly, to Palestine. Along the way there were miraculous escapes from hot battlefields, fought against his organisation in Beirut, Tunisia and Jordan. (The latter is still bitterly remembered by Jordanians as a betrayal of the hospitality they had given to the Palestinians.) There had also been the desert plane crash in which he was feared dead. He always took on more than he could chew, which was his fate - being the somewhat symbolic leader of the unfortunate Palestinians, a collection of people without a state. What's more, although people sound off on their behalf, in truth hardly anybody does much more than that. Not even the Arabic countries. This is a terrible thing, but by their nature and history, Palestinians are a fractious lot, as anyone would be whose land was given away by foreign signatures; and all their neighbours have unrelentingly kept a wary eye on them. Along comes the Butcher of Lebanon as the evil icing on this cake from hell (if there can be icing in that fiery furnace!) No wonder there is a deep undercurrent that holds that Arafat was poisoned. One day, as night follows day, there will be a Palestine, and Yasser Arafat's name will figure high on the list of those who paved the rocky way. As pundits have said since his death, Arafat did not win back a single inch of Palestine, quite the reverse. The London Sunday Times called him "a leader who became the symbol of a people but lacked the vision to lead them to statehood". Surely this is harsh; if vision is a flower it would have long withered under the glare of the hard side of Israel, pulling by the nose the Americans behind them. If it was fiction you wouldn't buy it. Alas it is fact. An Arab columnist in a Dubai paper referred to him as "a great man, a great leader who had greatly failed". The Telegraph of London announced, "Palestinian leader whose evolution from guerrilla to politician failed to improve the lot of his people." It went on to state of his final days "…surviving on bread and olives. His only value to his people was as a symbol of stubborn resistance to Israeli domination." You could be much less than that, God knows. Not that he had not been a direct fighter himself. From right back in 1948 in the first Arab-Israeli war, he took a fearless part, and when that war was lost continued in guerrilla skirmishes inside Israel. Twenty years later, still a guerrilla leader, his Fatah organisation took on the might of Israel at Karamah in Jordan and put up such a staunch defence that although Israel won, they did so with heavy losses. And yet the dramatic Marie Colvin (she wears a patch over a damaged eye rather than, say, dark glasses) quotes Arafat's no 3, Abu Iyad, as saying that in the early years the PLO chose Arafat "because he had so much energy but so little authority". What a nonsense! Of course Arafat was a showman, wearing his kaffiyeh (headscarf) to hang down at the front in the shape of a map of Palestine, and so on. But which politician lacks a touch of showmanship, save perhaps our much lamented John Kerry (and ask him what hit him recently!) The 1993 Oslo talks were woefully inadequate for Palestine, if you look at the red rash of Israeli settlements which would have remained in Palestine. Arafat was right to refuse that deal, although needless to say he was pilloried in the Western press. But some time later, at Camp David in the US, Clinton had worked out a better deal with Palestinians being offered a larger area than had ever been offered to them. Arafat rejected this too, although later he accepted this was a mistake. Afterwards it was downhill all the way. In 2002 Ramallah was reduced to rabble within which Arafat lived in a little windowless den. How far the hopeful days of '48 and '68 must have seemed to him; just as dangerous but infinitely more free! And so he died, this son and father of Palestine, whom Fate had dealt an impossible hand to play. I would not be in the least surprised if his arch-enemy organised his death through poisoning. One thing is sure. Somewhere in Palestine there is already someone breathing who will take up Yasser Arafat's baton. One day decent Palestinians will have their physical nation, and learn to live side by side with their equally decent Israeli neighbours. May Allah grant you rest brother Yasser.
* * *
When I returned from China (a beautiful visit with which I will regale you next week) I was bemused at the great excitement occasioned by the announcement of a ceasefire between the Uganda armed forces and the terrorist Kony. President Museveni, pragmatic as ever, by ordering the ceasefire, was saying, "If this will get us faster to where we should go, then so be it." Still I fancy he did so through gritted teeth, knowing why these defeated people were suing for peace! But, my dear, how the Donors are drooling with delight!
UGANDA’S No1 COLUMNIST..INFORMED, CONTROVERSIAL AND PROVOCATIVE
It was while I was travelling in the People's Republic of China that the bad news I had dreaded, but expected, came. Yasser Arafat (or to give him his full name: Muhammad Abd al-Raman Arafat al-Qudua al-Husseini), President (in all but name) of Palestine (in all but name), had breathed his last at 75. He had finally used up all his nine lives, including brutal treatment by Israel’s Sharon in the very place which is now his resting spot, pending a future time when part of Jerusalem belongs, rightly, to Palestine. Along the way there were miraculous escapes from hot battlefields, fought against his organisation in Beirut, Tunisia and Jordan. (The latter is still bitterly remembered by Jordanians as a betrayal of the hospitality they had given to the Palestinians.) There had also been the desert plane crash in which he was feared dead. He always took on more than he could chew, which was his fate - being the somewhat symbolic leader of the unfortunate Palestinians, a collection of people without a state. What's more, although people sound off on their behalf, in truth hardly anybody does much more than that. Not even the Arabic countries. This is a terrible thing, but by their nature and history, Palestinians are a fractious lot, as anyone would be whose land was given away by foreign signatures; and all their neighbours have unrelentingly kept a wary eye on them. Along comes the Butcher of Lebanon as the evil icing on this cake from hell (if there can be icing in that fiery furnace!) No wonder there is a deep undercurrent that holds that Arafat was poisoned. One day, as night follows day, there will be a Palestine, and Yasser Arafat's name will figure high on the list of those who paved the rocky way. As pundits have said since his death, Arafat did not win back a single inch of Palestine, quite the reverse. The London Sunday Times called him "a leader who became the symbol of a people but lacked the vision to lead them to statehood". Surely this is harsh; if vision is a flower it would have long withered under the glare of the hard side of Israel, pulling by the nose the Americans behind them. If it was fiction you wouldn't buy it. Alas it is fact. An Arab columnist in a Dubai paper referred to him as "a great man, a great leader who had greatly failed". The Telegraph of London announced, "Palestinian leader whose evolution from guerrilla to politician failed to improve the lot of his people." It went on to state of his final days "…surviving on bread and olives. His only value to his people was as a symbol of stubborn resistance to Israeli domination." You could be much less than that, God knows. Not that he had not been a direct fighter himself. From right back in 1948 in the first Arab-Israeli war, he took a fearless part, and when that war was lost continued in guerrilla skirmishes inside Israel. Twenty years later, still a guerrilla leader, his Fatah organisation took on the might of Israel at Karamah in Jordan and put up such a staunch defence that although Israel won, they did so with heavy losses. And yet the dramatic Marie Colvin (she wears a patch over a damaged eye rather than, say, dark glasses) quotes Arafat's no 3, Abu Iyad, as saying that in the early years the PLO chose Arafat "because he had so much energy but so little authority". What a nonsense! Of course Arafat was a showman, wearing his kaffiyeh (headscarf) to hang down at the front in the shape of a map of Palestine, and so on. But which politician lacks a touch of showmanship, save perhaps our much lamented John Kerry (and ask him what hit him recently!) The 1993 Oslo talks were woefully inadequate for Palestine, if you look at the red rash of Israeli settlements which would have remained in Palestine. Arafat was right to refuse that deal, although needless to say he was pilloried in the Western press. But some time later, at Camp David in the US, Clinton had worked out a better deal with Palestinians being offered a larger area than had ever been offered to them. Arafat rejected this too, although later he accepted this was a mistake. Afterwards it was downhill all the way. In 2002 Ramallah was reduced to rabble within which Arafat lived in a little windowless den. How far the hopeful days of '48 and '68 must have seemed to him; just as dangerous but infinitely more free! And so he died, this son and father of Palestine, whom Fate had dealt an impossible hand to play. I would not be in the least surprised if his arch-enemy organised his death through poisoning. One thing is sure. Somewhere in Palestine there is already someone breathing who will take up Yasser Arafat's baton. One day decent Palestinians will have their physical nation, and learn to live side by side with their equally decent Israeli neighbours. May Allah grant you rest brother Yasser.
* * *
When I returned from China (a beautiful visit with which I will regale you next week) I was bemused at the great excitement occasioned by the announcement of a ceasefire between the Uganda armed forces and the terrorist Kony. President Museveni, pragmatic as ever, by ordering the ceasefire, was saying, "If this will get us faster to where we should go, then so be it." Still I fancy he did so through gritted teeth, knowing why these defeated people were suing for peace! But, my dear, how the Donors are drooling with delight!