JEDDAH, 12 November 2004 — Yasser Arafat’s death marks the end of a Palestinian icon who, as long as I can remember, dominated the Middle East scene.
From that fateful year of 1967 when the Israelis invaded and occupied the West Bank and the Gaza Strip until his very last breath, Arafat figured prominently on every Palestinian issue.
My recollections of him are vivid: As students, we were all supporters of the Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO), and he embodied the cause.
I first met Arafat in September 1982. It was in Jeddah at the Guest Palace in Baghdadiah. I had gone to interview him for Arab News and its sister publication, Al-Majalla.
He was very different from the image portrayed by the media. A short, dapper man, he quickly disarmed you with his pleasant smile. He smiled often, something which men of lesser mettle would not be able to do — considering he had just lived through 88 days of hell during the siege of Beirut.
A quiet dinner followed our initial meeting. Arafat hardly ate, too preoccupied with narrating what had happened and what future course of action to take. At times it seemed he talked more to himself than us — describing in minute details the savage bombing by the Israelis of Lebanese and Palestinian civilian targets.
One could almost feel his intense emotions as he meandered from topic to topic, touching on incidents of valor and bravery and of the determination of the young PLO fighters and their patriotic Lebanese allies, willing to die for a just cause.
His eyes brimmed with tears as he spoke of the treachery that followed his departure from Beirut. The PLO fighters left Beirut so that its civilian population would not further endure the merciless slaughter by the Israelis who, by using freely provided American arms and ammunition, were intent on razing the entire city to the ground and adding one more chapter in their history of genocide against the Palestinians.
Throughout the siege, Arafat remained calm. His appearance and manners contrasted sharply with the loutish behavior of Sharon or the psychopathic gesture of Begin. He spoke not of revenge but of justice. For the hundreds of thousands of Palestinians in diasporas, the need of the hour was a homeland of their own — not refugee camps.
Arafat was genuine. Throughout our meeting, he did not try to act the patriot or the arrogant leader. What I found was a man who sincerely believed in his cause.
Our conversation was interrupted by his interview on an American television network channel via satellite. He was asked questions that showed the narrow-mindedness and bigotry of the journalists interviewing him — but he never lost his cool. Instead, he repeatedly asked the questioners not to be biased.
But the interviewers continued to reiterate the same old Zionist propaganda statements: The PLO is for the destruction of Israel; the PLO wants to kill all Jews, etc.
As these, and similar questions were asked, Arafat would sit back, fold his arms, look genuinely puzzled and ask about the authenticity of such statements. This match would go for a couple of minutes until Arafat would then pose a question himself.
It was always certain that the interviewer was trying to bait Arafat. It was also certain that Arafat never took the bait.
Throughout most interviews Arafat would patiently repeat that the PLO was not waging a war against Israel, but rather Israel was waging a war of occupation against the Palestinians. He repeatedly said it was the Israeli government, and not the PLO, that was playing an exterminator’s role. And he chided the United States for fully backing these ardent Zionists who were intent on destroying both the PLO and the Palestinians.
The terrorists in Tel Aviv and their allies, Arafat said to me during our dinner, may gloat temporarily at the PLO’s departure from Beirut, “but Sharon and Begin have only to turn the pages of history to find out where Attila and Hitler have gone.”
The will of the people cannot be suppressed, he told me quietly while reaching out for some grapes. The 88 days of Beirut somehow strengthened the Palestinians’ determination, he said.
I had several other opportunities to meet him at different venues — at Arab summits and conferences in Europe. He was always polite. At times he would cross security lines to offer a handshake.
Once, over a cup of tea in Dakar, I found him in a very pensive mood.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“Nothing,” he replied. “I am just thinking about my family in Palestine.”
On another occasion, while having lunch together in Tunis, I asked him whether he would ever return to Palestine.
“Yes” he said, pushing his chair back. “You see, one cannot repress the will of a people who are trying to reclaim their lost rights. What about the massive US military, economic and political support for Israel?” I asked.
“That has temporarily stopped us,” he conceded. “But in the long run we will win — for several reasons.
First, because we are right; second, the American government will discover that what they are doing is absolutely wrong. Because by depriving a people of their God-given right of self-determination, they are negating all principles of justice.”
At times, Arafat would ramble, and his use of the English syntax was poor, and he constantly labored to improve his language.
Once, while meeting with some Western journalists, he kept reiterating something about the “Israeli military junta.” I quickly pointed out that no such thing existed in Israel.
During the last few years, Arafat found himself vilified by the many pro-Israeli commentators in the United States who, at the behest of the Israelis, tried to demonize him.
It is true that few modern figures were as controversial as Arafat.
One of his failings was to try to please everyone. For this he was often rebuked — not by the Arabs, but by his own people.
For example, his support of Saddam Hussein during the 1990 Iraqi invasion of Kuwait cost both him and the Palestinian people dearly.
He once said it was difficult to do business when under pressure from friends. It was a vague statement but I understood what he meant.
There is no doubt that Arafat missed many opportunities. His critics argued that had he agreed to the Wye peace talks organized by former President Bill Clinton, he could have achieved something for the Palestinians.
Throughout his life, Arafat was a humble man who lived simply, but he was surrounded by an enormous entourage whose lifestyle contrasted differently with his and that of those in the Palestinian refugee camps.
His personal propriety was never questioned, but some of his financial decisions aroused suspicion.
Throughout most of his life, the Israelis and their allies tried their best to denigrate him. By using their media “outlet” in the United States, they hoped that whatever support there was for the Palestinians would dissipate. This never deterred him, and he put together a group of well-educated, articulate Westernized Palestinian spokespersons who knew how to stand their ground.
It is unfortunate, for both Arafat and the Palestinians, that Israel has become a domestic issue in US policy.
No candidate can gain ground in a US election without pandering to Zionist interests or by advertising his or her pro-Israeli leanings. Arafat thus became a punching bag for both Bush and Kerry in their interviews and debates.
But whatever people said about him, it did not diminish his image in the eyes of his people and to millions of supporters of justice for the Palestinians.
On the contrary, the more viciously Arafat was attacked, the more fiercely he was supported by both his people living in the refugee camps outside Palestine and among the 3.5 million Palestinians living under the oppressive and brutal Israeli dictatorship in the occupied West Bank and Gaza Strip.
Arafat was no saint. But he kept the Palestine issue alive.
He was its symbol. His failing was his refusal to delegate, and his inability to accept his own mortality.
At his death, he had one simple request: He wanted to be buried in Jerusalem. It is sad that the descendants of those from the ghettoes of Danzig and Warsaw have deprived him of that wish.
Now that he is gone, it is up to those who will follow in Arafat’s shadow to keep the Palestinian cause in center stage.
Arafat may be no more. But the image of that frail old man with his mischievous smile trapped by Sharon’s murderous forces in Ramallah and yet emerging again and again to wave at the camera, while maintaining his dignity and decorum — will remain embedded in the minds of future Palestinians, and many others throughout the world.
Allah Yarhamak ya Abu Ammar.
