I love walking through Ramallah on a Friday. The streets are almost empty as people are praying or just enjoying their day of rest. The Mosques ring out and fill the city with their calls to prayer and sermons. Instead of swerving left and right to avoid colliding with people and cars, I can walk freely with little to inhibit my movements.
I see foreigners everywhere on Fridays as we take advantage of the absence of crowds to do what we need. It seems Ramallah is full of internationals on days like these.
On this Friday, I was more keenly aware of my surrounding as this would be my last living in Ramallah. As the midday Friday prayers filled the air I passed through al-Manara (almost empty of the usual young men who congregate there) and into Rukub Street (namesake of the famous Rukub ice-creamery), down the uneven pavement and stairways, through the wafts of shwarma and falafel, past the dumpsters so often filled with cats, and into the outskirts of Ramallah. I walked slowly, enjoying the weather and my surroundings that had become so familiar after passing through them daily for the last three months: that UN four-wheel drive vehicle was parked outside that same house; the six Palestinian soldiers stood in their usual position lolling about with nothing to do at the official end of the city of Ramallah; the electricity cables at the end of my street sounded like crickets as the electricity passed uneasily crackling through the wires; and my building was filled with children waiting for a cooking or music or ballet class, running round and laughing and annoying people.
It was one of those moments where I loved Ramallah.
It always strikes me as an irony that to the Israelis, Ramallah is a place of danger and extremists and yet it’s really one of the most liberal cities in Palestine. I’ve heard people call Tel Aviv ‘The Bubble’, and that description could be applied to Ramallah. Living here you can almost forget about the occupation with all the fashion stores, cafes and bars. Always I’m told by Palestinians: if you want to have an idea of the situation in Palestine, you need to move beyond Ramallah. And this has certainly been my experience. While it could never be completely free from the occupation (just recently eleven people were taken abducted by the Israeli army in Ramallah and taken to an Israeli prison), it’s about as close as can be.
I’m going to miss this city and its people, just as I’ll miss this land that is trying to be a country.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Discussing the Final Status Issues
One of the subjects I have taken at Birzeit University is called the Palestine Question – a political science subject exploring the issue of the establishment of a Palestinian state. For our final class we were split into Israelis and Palestinians and brought together around a table to discuss the final status issues – a talk that is, in reality, almost ten years overdue.
My group was to take the Israeli position. When we were told this we all groaned, sure that we’d been given the harder task. After all, we were in a class that had spent the whole semester exploring the Palestinian position and yet now we would have to argue the other side. I think it was because we anticipated difficulty that most of us put in the effort to try and set out our position. We discussed among ourselves what we were willing to compromise on and what things we considered non-negotiable. By the time we sat down at the table we felt prepared – though still expecting to be vilified and set in our place as occupiers. And yet, that’s not how it happened.
The dynamics of the room were set right from the beginning. Over twenty minutes before the talks began, all the Israeli side were seated side by side facing the door and ready to go. While we waited, the Palestinian side slowly trickled in, taking their seats, and then wandering about again.
When the talks began, it was clear that there was a power imbalance. We, as the Israeli position, immediately took on the position of power – setting the agenda and making clear what could be discussed and what we refused to compromise on. The Palestinian side was obviously poorly prepared. It happened a number of times that one of them offered us something and then another immediately objected to that being offered. It also happened a number of times that we managed to make them angry and upset. Many a time they responded to our proposals by becoming furious and emotional – falling back on accusations of our cruelty but failing to build up any strong arguments to turn the tide of the negotiations.
How did it happen? How did it happen that even in a room in which everyone fundamentally agreed with the Palestinian position did the Israelis came out on top during negotiations? Why were we incapable challenging the power imbalance that exists between the two sides?
Our teacher offered a suggestion for why the power imbalance fell into place so simply: the Palestinian side implicitly agreed to negotiate on the terms set by the Israelis. That is, the Palestinian side agreed to the splitting up of the issues: discussing settlements, water resources, borders, refugees and Jerusalem all separately. This immediately places them in a position of weakness because if every issue is up for negotiation separately, what do the Palestinians have to bargain with?
They have one bargaining chip: an agreement to recognise the sovereignty of Israel on its 1948 borders. They want one thing in return: an end to the occupation. That means a dismantling of all settlements, the handover of all control over the West Bank and Gaza’s water resources, complete control of the borders (as set by the 1967 green line) and East Jerusalem. Anything less would be a continuation of the occupation in another form.
Would this argument as suggested by our teacher have worked for the Palestinian side during our class negotiations? Probably not. We as the Israeli side would probably have dismissed such an all-encompassing demand as unrealistic and ridiculous. But at least there would have been unity on the Palestinian side, and at least it would have been up to us to break up the negotiations by saying we were unwilling to negotiate on their terms, which would reflect poorly on us.
The one point that complicates this simple structuring of the issues is the Palestinian refugees. Our teacher was clear on his position: Resolution 194 must be implemented and all refugees given the right to return. But this issue does not fit neatly into the clear demand of an end to the occupation. And yet, without a resolution of this issue, can any discussion of a final status be fruitful?
Why is it possible for any Jew around the world to gain citizenship of Israel and yet the Palestinians who left the area during the violence of 1948 and their descendents are still prevented from returning? I was always taught as a child that people are people, regardless of religion, origin or ethnicity. It is overly idealistic, but John Lennon asked us to imagine a world where there was no religion – just imagine.
My group was to take the Israeli position. When we were told this we all groaned, sure that we’d been given the harder task. After all, we were in a class that had spent the whole semester exploring the Palestinian position and yet now we would have to argue the other side. I think it was because we anticipated difficulty that most of us put in the effort to try and set out our position. We discussed among ourselves what we were willing to compromise on and what things we considered non-negotiable. By the time we sat down at the table we felt prepared – though still expecting to be vilified and set in our place as occupiers. And yet, that’s not how it happened.
The dynamics of the room were set right from the beginning. Over twenty minutes before the talks began, all the Israeli side were seated side by side facing the door and ready to go. While we waited, the Palestinian side slowly trickled in, taking their seats, and then wandering about again.
When the talks began, it was clear that there was a power imbalance. We, as the Israeli position, immediately took on the position of power – setting the agenda and making clear what could be discussed and what we refused to compromise on. The Palestinian side was obviously poorly prepared. It happened a number of times that one of them offered us something and then another immediately objected to that being offered. It also happened a number of times that we managed to make them angry and upset. Many a time they responded to our proposals by becoming furious and emotional – falling back on accusations of our cruelty but failing to build up any strong arguments to turn the tide of the negotiations.
How did it happen? How did it happen that even in a room in which everyone fundamentally agreed with the Palestinian position did the Israelis came out on top during negotiations? Why were we incapable challenging the power imbalance that exists between the two sides?
Our teacher offered a suggestion for why the power imbalance fell into place so simply: the Palestinian side implicitly agreed to negotiate on the terms set by the Israelis. That is, the Palestinian side agreed to the splitting up of the issues: discussing settlements, water resources, borders, refugees and Jerusalem all separately. This immediately places them in a position of weakness because if every issue is up for negotiation separately, what do the Palestinians have to bargain with?
They have one bargaining chip: an agreement to recognise the sovereignty of Israel on its 1948 borders. They want one thing in return: an end to the occupation. That means a dismantling of all settlements, the handover of all control over the West Bank and Gaza’s water resources, complete control of the borders (as set by the 1967 green line) and East Jerusalem. Anything less would be a continuation of the occupation in another form.
Would this argument as suggested by our teacher have worked for the Palestinian side during our class negotiations? Probably not. We as the Israeli side would probably have dismissed such an all-encompassing demand as unrealistic and ridiculous. But at least there would have been unity on the Palestinian side, and at least it would have been up to us to break up the negotiations by saying we were unwilling to negotiate on their terms, which would reflect poorly on us.
The one point that complicates this simple structuring of the issues is the Palestinian refugees. Our teacher was clear on his position: Resolution 194 must be implemented and all refugees given the right to return. But this issue does not fit neatly into the clear demand of an end to the occupation. And yet, without a resolution of this issue, can any discussion of a final status be fruitful?
Why is it possible for any Jew around the world to gain citizenship of Israel and yet the Palestinians who left the area during the violence of 1948 and their descendents are still prevented from returning? I was always taught as a child that people are people, regardless of religion, origin or ethnicity. It is overly idealistic, but John Lennon asked us to imagine a world where there was no religion – just imagine.
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