Middle East Too Little, Too Late, Too Vague

By Scott MacLeod

Peering out at the assembled Palestinians in the domed auditorium of the Club des Pins convention center, Yasser Arafat donned a pair of spectacles and began reading softly from the document he held in his hands. Then the Palestine Liberation Organization chairman's voice suddenly rose in a crescendo and his right arm chopped the air. "In the name of God, and in the name of the Palestinian Arab people," Arafat shouted into the microphone, "the Palestine National Council announces the establishment of the state of Palestine, with holy Jerusalem as its capital."

For all the fanfare at last week's gathering of the P.L.O.'s parliament on the outskirts of Algiers, Arafat's new state came into existence in name only, a largely symbolic response by P.L.O. leaders who wanted to show some political results for the eleven-month-old Palestinian uprising in the Israeli-occupied West Bank and Gaza Strip. Only hours earlier, Arafat had overcome the protests of Palestinian hard-liners and persuaded the council to reverse its long-standing rejection of U.N. Resolutions 242 and 338, which - implicitly recognize Israel's right to exist. Needing a legal foundation for setting up a Palestinian state, Arafat cited the U.N. Partition Plan of 1947, previously denounced by the P.L.O. as illegal, which recognizes the right to statehood of both Jews and Arabs.

Arafat's supporters hailed the moves as a historic compromise with their enemy. Certainly the actions represented a victory for Palestinian moderates. Starting with Algeria, more than 30 countries, including Turkey, Yugoslavia and numerous Arab and nonaligned nations, quickly recognized the self-declared state; as many as 130 are expected to do so. The Soviet Union recognized Arafat's proclamation but did not immediately extend full diplomatic relations. In the occupied territories, the Israeli army clamped on curfews to prevent violent outbursts or jubilant displays. Though shopkeepers in Arab East Jerusalem passed out chocolates and local residents exchanged greetings of "Mabrouk" (congratulations), some West Bankers disparaged Arafat's half step toward Israel. The fundamentalist-led Islamic Resistance Movement distributed a leaflet that declared, "This independence movement is imaginary. It is a quick move by some of the Palestinian ranks to steal the fruits of the intifadeh's victory."

Israeli officials quickly dismissed Arafat's actions as irrelevant gimmickry designed largely to improve the P.L.O.'s image abroad. Arafat's message, in fact, was aimed not so much at Israel as at the U.S., which the Palestinian leader feels is the only country that can pressure Israel to withdraw from the West Bank and Gaza. Said Arafat: "The ball is now in the American court."

State Department spokesman Charles Redman called the outcome of the Algerian meeting "encouraging" but rejected the declaration of statehood. He pointed out that once again Arafat had failed to satisfy U.S. conditions for entering into direct talks with the P.L.O. Not only had the Palestinians failed to recognize Israel explicitly and to renounce terrorism completely, but the wording in the P.L.O. endorsement of the U.N. resolutions was deliberately vague. Advisers to President-elect George Bush agreed that the P.L.O.'s actions were ambiguous and inadequate, but they seemed less rigid in their reaction. "It is important not to dismiss the P.L.O. declarations as nothing new," said a Bush aide. "This is their most direct acceptance of U.N. Resolutions 242 and 338 ever. That is at least a half step forward, no matter how you slice it."

Much to Arafat's embarrassment, two reputed terrorists only reinforced doubts about the P.L.O.'s trustworthiness by staging showy appearances at the Club des Pins. Abul Abbas, convicted in absentia by an Italian court for the 1985 hijacking of the cruise ship Achille Lauro, took his seat as a member of the P.L.O.'s executive committee. Speaking to reporters about the murder of an elderly American Jew, Leon Klinghoffer, a man in a wheelchair who was thrown overboard during the incident, Abbas said with chilling sarcasm, "Maybe he was trying to swim for it." P.L.O. hard-liners also gave red-carpet treatment to Khaled Abdel Nasser, son of the late Egyptian President, who fled Egypt late last year after being indicted for a string of terrorist attacks on U.S. and Israeli diplomats in Cairo.

As the P.L.O. adopted a more moderate program, Israeli politicians began putting together a coalition that could prove more intransigent than ever. Israeli President Chaim Herzog asked Yitzhak Shamir -- the Likud-bloc leader who campaigned on a platform to crush the intifadeh, resist calls for an international peace conference and never surrender the West Bank -- to form the next government. After flirting with small religious and right-wing parties, Shamir last week began negotiations with Shimon Peres, leader of the Labor Party, that could once again bring the nation's two largest political groups into a national-unity government.

If that happens, however, Peres will be very much the junior partner and thus poorly positioned to push his proposals for an international peace conference and a settlement with Palestinians. Some Israelis believe Shamir will unilaterally grant Palestinians limited autonomy under Israeli jurisdiction, but as a permanent solution and not as the interim arrangement envisioned in the Camp David accords.

The prospect of continuing unrest in the occupied territories and political stalemate puts increasing pressure on George Bush to come up with an effective Middle East policy. The key issue will be whether -- and how -- to get Shamir to move toward withdrawing from the West Bank and Gaza Strip and to enter into peace talks. Without U.S. pressure, Israel is unlikely to act, as Secretary of State George Shultz learned earlier this year when Shamir repeatedly snubbed his peace proposals.

Another difficult issue will be how to respond to the P.L.O. if Arafat continues making conciliatory proposals and Jordan's King Hussein, Israel's - preferred negotiating partner, continues to exclude himself as an alternative spokesman for Palestinians. William Quandt, a Middle East expert at the Brookings Institution, criticized the U.S. response to Arafat's declarations as being "unimaginative and excessively cautious." Even British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher called the P.L.O.'s declarations "something to build upon" and reportedly urged the U.S. to be more constructive. The U.S. may relax its self-imposed restrictions on dealing with the P.L.O. after James Baker becomes Secretary of State. It must decide then whether its current position of support for, at most, an autonomous Palestinian entity confederated with Jordan is still a viable option. "Shultz goes around perpetually mad at the Arabs," says a former aide, as a result of the disasters that befell U.S. policy in Lebanon in the early Reagan years.

The most immediate dilemma for U.S. officials is whether or not to grant Arafat a visa, in the face of strong opposition from American Jewish leaders and Israel, so that he can address the U.N. General Assembly on his peace proposals next month. If the U.S. refuses to allow him to enter the country, hard-liners within the P.L.O. will surely argue that a more flexible stance produces nothing. Arafat seemed to be protecting himself when he warned last week, "I can always come back to our P.N.C. and declare that moderation does not pay."

What Arafat and the P.L.O. achieved in Algiers last week was to serve notice that they were prepared to modify their positions. Now the new administrations in Israel and the U.S. face the challenge of probing the limits of that flexibility.

With reporting by Dean Fischer/Algiers, Jon D. Hull/Jerusalem and Bruce van Voorst/Washington