THE MIDDLE EAST: COMMITMENT AND RESISTANCE

SINCE the Arab-Israeli war of 1967, the single most important element in Middle East peacemaking has been the attitude and policies of the U.S. Last week, 20 months after the war, Washington began a round of bilateral talks at the United Nations aimed at exploring common ground for a settlement. If that provided a sense of diplomatic movement at last, it was also a tacit admission that the Johnson Administration's policy of letting the two sides work out their differences themselves is no longer valid. For better or worse, the move committed the U.S. to the first step down a long and obstacle-strewn diplomatic road.

The hostile nations of the Middle East greeted the new move warily, since direct big-power participation in the search for a settlement will inevitably bring weight to bear on them to make concessions. Israelis took some comfort from the avowed U.S. intention to bolster the mission of U.N. Special Representative Gunnar Jarring, and expected no change in Washington's support for a "contractual" rather than an "imposed" solution. But they did worry that the U.S. would seek to influence Israel to vacate the conquered Arab territories. "We may find ourselves faced by political pressures of a nature never encountered during the previous administrations," warned Israel's leading daily, Ha'aretz. "We had better be prepared to withstand it." For precisely the same reason, Arab countries welcomed Washington's more active role in a region where, so far as they are concerned, the U.S. has been far too content to do nothing. That policy is exactly what the Israelis prescribe, since they feel that time is on their side in forcing the Arabs to deal with them directly.

Palestinian Power. Negotiations are likely to be painfully slow, not only because of the vast gulf between the Arab and Israeli positions but also because of the sheer number of participants: the U.S., Russia, Britain, France, Israel, Egypt and Jordan, plus the U.N.'s Jarring. Yet the diplomats already face a stiff penalty for delay in the fast-rising political power of the one interest group that will not be represented, the Palestinian fedayeen commandos. In any settlement, the Israelis will insist that Arab governments curb fedayeen within their own borders, something that they are increasingly unable to do. Moreover, Egypt's Gamal Abdel Nasser and Jordan's King Hussein will have to negotiate with the fedayeen in effect looking over their shoulders, adamantly opposed to any settlement at all.

Welcoming delegates to the Palestine National Council, which met in Cairo last week, Nasser promised the fedayeen "unlimited moral and material support, without reservations or conditions." The 105-member council, which considers itself a Parliament in exile for the Palestinians, elected as its chairman Yasser Arafat (TIME Cover, Dec. 13), spokesman for El Fatah, the largest fedayeen organization. The post makes him the Palestinians' official representative to Arab governments and the collection agent for their contributions to the guerrilla movement. Even so, Arafat's election did nothing to bridge the rift between El Fatah and the rival fedayeen organizations that boycotted the conference, notably the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine and the Palestine Liberation Army.

Whether Arafat can heal those rivalries remains to be seen, but he has powerful support. Two weeks ago, on a visit to Algeria, President Houari Boumediene presented him with a check for an undisclosed amount, declaring, "We say to everyone, 'Stop the bargaining.' Palestine belongs to the Palestinians and no Arab country has the right to bargain the Palestinian cause." That view reflects Arafat's own: "Let the big powers decide what they wish, but the Palestinians have made their decision, and that decision springs from the gun." Arafat is contemptuous of the U.N. mission: "Jarring? We haven't been introduced."

Another Front. So far this winter, Arafat's fedayeen have been severely handicapped by the worst storms in half a century. Snow and rain have raised the normally placid Jordan River to unfordable levels. In consequence, his terrorists have concentrated mainly on the Gaza Strip, where two grenades last week wounded nine Arabs and Israeli troops were called out to quell a riot by more than 2,000 slogan-shouting high school girls; 93 of the girls were injured. But Arafat is well on his way to opening another guerrilla front in Lebanon.

In a heated discussion, Lebanese authorities refused Arafat permission to operate from their territory, turning down his offer to fortify border villages and defend them with his own men. Nonetheless, in the past few weeks, some 500 fedayeen--according to both El Fatah and Israeli sources, for once in agreement--have infiltrated the rocky, mountainous region of southern Lebanon. So far the Lebanese have been unwilling to risk the political consequences of expelling them. The fedayeen need now only wait for improving weather to begin operations and quite possibly spark Israeli reprisals, just as talks at the U.N. should be well under way.

The fedayeen are not subject to diplomatic pressure, as are established governments. Last week Baghdad, obviously surprised by the worldwide outcry over the display of 14 corpses (including nine Jews) hanged as Israeli "spies" in Iraq two weeks ago, moved to refurbish its image. It released American Engineer Paul Bail, who had been held on trumped-up charges of spying. And President Hassan al-Bakr announced that forthcoming spy trials will involve none of Iraq's beleaguered community of 2,500 Jews.

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