Saturday, May 17, 2025

As Trump basks in Gulf Arab applause, Israel massacres children in Gaza - Soumaya Ghannoushi

As Trump basks in Gulf Arab applause, Israel massacres children in Gaza
Soumaya Ghannoushi 

From Riyadh to Abu Dhabi, a race is underway - not to end the genocide in Gaza, but to outspend one another for US favour.

 US President Donald Trump’s tour of Riyadh, Abu Dhabi and Doha is not diplomacy. It is theatre - staged in gold, fuelled by greed, and underwritten by betrayal. A US president openly arming a genocide is welcomed with red carpets, handshakes and blank cheques. Trillions are pledged; personal gifts are exchanged. And Gaza continues to burn. Gulf regimes have power and wealth. They have Trump’s ear. Yet they use none of it - not to halt the slaughter, ease the siege or demand dignity. In return for their riches and deference, Trump grants Israel bombs and sets it loose upon the region. This is the real story. At the heart of Trump’s return lies a project he initiated during his first presidency: the erasure of Palestine, the elevation of autocracy, and the redrawing of the Middle East in Israel’s image. “See this pen? This wonderful pen on my desk is the Middle East, and the top of the pen - that’s Israel. That’s not good,” he once told reporters, lamenting Israel’s size compared to its neighbours. To Trump, the Middle East is not a region of history or humanity. It is a marketplace, a weapons depot, a geopolitical ATM. His worldview is forged in evangelical zeal and transactional instinct. In his rhetoric, Arabs are chaos incarnate: irrational, violent, in need of control. Israel alone is framed as civilised, democratic, divinely chosen. That binary is not accidental. It is ideology.

Obedience for survival 
 Trump calls the region “a rough neighbourhood” - code for endless militarism that casts the people of the Middle East not as lives to protect, but as threats to contain. His $110bn arms deal with Saudi Arabia in 2017 was marketed as peace through prosperity. Now, he wants trillions more in Gulf capital. As reported by the New York Times, Trump is demanding that Saudi Arabia invest its entire annual GDP - $1 trillion - into the US economy. Riyadh has already offered $600bn. Trump wants it all. Economists call it absurd; Trump calls it a deal. This is not negotiation. It is tribute. And the pace is accelerating. After a recent meeting with Trump, the UAE announced a 10-year, $1.4 trillion investment framework with the US. Across the Gulf, a race is underway - not to end the genocide in Gaza, but to outspend one another for Trump’s favour, showering him with wealth in return for nothing. The Gulf is no longer treated as a region. It is a vault. Sovereign wealth funds are the new ballot boxes. Sovereignty - just another asset to be traded. Trump’s offer is blunt: obedience for survival. For regimes still haunted by the Arab Spring, western blessing is their last shield. And they will pay any price: wealth, independence, even dignity. To them, the true threat is not Israel, nor even Iran. It is their own people, restless, yearning, ungovernable. Democracy is danger; self-determination, the ticking bomb. So they make a pact with the devil.

Doctrine of immunity 
 That devil brings flags, frameworks, photo ops and deals. The new order demands normalisation with Israel, submission to its supremacy, and silence on Palestine. Once-defiant slogans are replaced by fintech expos and staged smiles beside Israeli ministers. In return, Trump offers impunity: political cover and arms. It is a doctrine of immunity, bought with gold and soaked in Arab blood. They bend. They hand him deals, honours, trillions. They believe submission buys respect. But Trump respects only power - and he makes that clear. He praises Russian President Vladimir Putin: “Is Putin smart? Yes … that’s a hell of a way to negotiate.” He calls Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan “a guy I like [and] respect”. Like them or not, they defend their nations. And Trump, ever the transactional mind, respects power. Arab rulers offer no such strength. They offer deference, not defiance. They don’t push; they pay. And Trump mocks them openly. King Salman “might not be there for two weeks without us”, he brags. They give him billions; he demands trillions. It is not just the US Treasury profiting. Gulf billions do not merely fuel policy; they enrich a family empire. Since returning to office, Trump and his sons have chased deals across the Gulf, cashing in on the loyalty they have cultivated. A hotel in Dubai, a tower in Jeddah, a golf resort in Qatar, crypto ventures in the US, a private club in Washington for Gulf elites - these are not strategic projects, but rather revenue streams for the Trump family.

Reward for ethnic cleansing 
 The precedent was set early. Former presidential adviser Jared Kushner, Trump’s son-in-law, secured $2bn from Saudi Arabia’s sovereign wealth fund shortly after leaving office, despite internal objections. The message was clear: access to the Trumps has a price, and Gulf rulers are eager to pay. Now, Trump is receiving a private jet from Qatar’s ruling family - a palace in the sky worth $400m. This is not diplomacy. It is plunder. And how does Trump respond? With insult: “It was a great gesture,” he said of the jet, before adding: “We keep them safe. If it wasn’t for us, they probably wouldn’t exist right now.” That was his thank you to Saudi Arabia, the UAE and Qatar; lavish gifts answered with debasement. And what are they rewarding him for? For genocide. For 100,000 tonnes of bombs dropped on Gaza. For backing ethnic cleansing in plain sight. For empowering far-right Israeli politicians, including Finance Minister Bezalel Smotrich and Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, as they call for Gaza’s depopulation. For presiding over the most fanatically Zionist, most unapologetically Islamophobic administration in US history. Still, they ask nothing, while offering everything. They could have used their leverage. They did not. The Yemen precedent proves they can act. Trump halted the bombing under Saudi pressure, to Netanyahu’s visible dismay. When they wanted a deal, they struck one with the Houthis. And when they sought to bring Syria in from the cold, Trump complied. He agreed to meet former rebel leader turned President Ahmed al-Sharaa - a last-minute addition to his Riyadh schedule - and even spoke of lifting sanctions, once again at Saudi Arabia’s request, to “give them a chance of greatness”. No US president is beyond pressure. But for Gaza? Silence.

Price of silence 
 While Trump was being feted in Riyadh, Israel rained American-made bombs on two hospitals in Gaza. In Khan Younis, the European Hospital was reportedly struck by nine bunker-busting bombs, killing more than two dozen people and injuring scores more. Earlier that day, an air strike on Nasser Hospital killed journalist Hassan Islayeh as he lay wounded in treatment. As Trump basked in applause, Israel massacred children in Jabalia, where around 50 Palestinians were killed in just a few hours. This is the bloody price of Arab silence, buried beneath the roar of applause and the glitter of tributes. This week marks the anniversary of the Nakba - and here it is again, replayed not through tanks alone, but through Arab complicity. The bombs fall. The Gaza Strip turns to dust. Two million people endure starvation. UN food is gone. Hospitals overflow with skeletal infants. Mothers collapse from hunger. Tens of thousands of children are severely malnourished, with more than 3,500 on the edge of death. Meanwhile, Smotrich speaks of “third countries” for Gaza’s people. Netanyahu promises their removal. And Trump - the man enabling the annihilation? He is not condemned, but celebrated by Arab rulers. They eagerly kiss the hand that sends the bombs, grovel before the architect of their undoing, and drape him in splendour and finery. While much of the world stands firm - China, Europe, Canada, Mexico, even Greenland - refusing to bow to Trump’s bullying, Arab rulers kneel. They open wallets, bend spines, empty hands - still mistaking humiliation for diplomacy. They still believe that if they bow low enough, Trump might toss them a bone. Instead, he tosses them a bill. This is not realpolitik. It is a grotesque spectacle of decadence, delusion and disgrace. With every cheque signed, every jet offered, every photo op beside the butcher of a people, Arab rulers do not secure history’s respect. They seal their place in its sordid footnotes of shame.

Tuesday, March 11, 2025

Oslo Pact: a Trap

+972 Magazine Newsletter SUPPORT US The Oslo trap: How the PLO signed its own death warrant From asymmetrical concessions to renouncing armed struggle, the fate of the Palestinians was sealed before Arafat and Rabin even shook hands. By Raef Zreik September 11, 2023 Palestinian policemen celebrate upon entering Jericho, one of the first cities handed over to Palestinian Authority control in accordance with the Oslo Accords, May 13, 1994. (Yossi Zamir/Flash 90) Palestinian policemen celebrate upon entering Jericho, one of the first cities handed over to Palestinian Authority control in accordance with the Oslo Accords, May 13, 1994. (Yossi Zamir/Flash 90) In partnership with The Oslo Accords were brokered when I was a young lawyer at the start of my career, after years of living as a student in Jerusalem under the shadow of the First Intifada. I had left the city in 1990, worn out in no small measure by Jerusalem itself, the constant tension, and the intense political activity against the occupation. It is therefore little wonder that despite my condemnations of Oslo, those days nevertheless gave me a small glimmer of hope — perhaps something new was being born after all. But as much as I wanted the agreement to work, in my mind, I knew better. There were, at the time, all kinds of opponents to Oslo among the Palestinian public. From the first, some Palestinians did not believe in the two-state solution, and saw it as a defeat for the Palestinian cause. I was not one of them: rather, my opposition to Oslo stemmed from an inner conviction that the Accords themselves could not actually lead to such a solution. I was not influenced by what was being said on television or in the public discourse; instead, I sat down and read the agreements through the eyes of a young lawyer. After all, a political agreement is one that contains its own contractual logic: it sets out a firm timeline, there are rules in case of breach of contract, and so on. It seemed to me that the Palestinian negotiators could have used a little legal advice. There are three central problems in the wording of the Oslo Accords, as can be gleaned from the exchange of letters between Israeli Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin and Palestine Liberation Organization leader Yasser Arafat, which preceded the signing of the Accords on the White House lawn on Sept. 13, 1993. Subscribe to The Landline +972's weekly newsletter Your@mail.here Sign up The first problem is an imbalance in the two sides’ recognition of each other’s legitimacy. The PLO recognized Israel and its right to exist, and recognized Security Council Resolutions 242 (which called for the withdrawal of Israeli soldiers from the occupied territories and acknowledged the claim of sovereignty, territorial integrity, and political independence of every state in the region following the 1967 war) as well as 338 (which called for a ceasefire following the 1973 war). But in return, Israel did not recognize the Palestinian people’s right to a state or their right to self-determination. Instead, it simply recognized the PLO as the sole representative of the Palestinian people. This lack of equivalency left the PLO as little more than an empty vessel; there is, after all, a difference between recognizing the PLO’s existence and recognizing the legitimacy of its political demands. Moreover, at the time, Israel had strategic self-interest in recognizing the PLO as the sole representative of the Palestinian people. If Israel did so, the PLO’s recognition of Israel’s right to exist would supposedly represent the voice of the entire Palestinian nation. The PLO’s recognition of Israel would have been meaningless had it not come from an authentic representative. Israeli Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin, PLO leader Yasser Arafat, and US President Bill Clinton at the signing ceremony for the Oslo Accords on the White House lawn, Washington, D.C., September 13, 1993. (GPO/Avi Ohayon) Israeli Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin, PLO leader Yasser Arafat, and US President Bill Clinton at the signing ceremony for the Oslo Accords on the White House lawn, Washington, D.C., September 13, 1993. (GPO/Avi Ohayon) In this light, the PLO’s instrumental nature as a representative body is clear. A representative can act either in the interest of, or to the detriment of, whomever they represent. The representative can make demands of the other side, but it can also make concessions on behalf of the people it represents. When the PLO presented clear claims and demands, Israel denied its requests, but when it recognized Israel and offered concessions on behalf of the Palestinians, Israel had no problem treating the PLO as the spokesperson of the Palestinians. In fact, the PLO used its symbolic capital as the representative of the Palestinian people to appear on the world stage and announce the absence of the people and the elimination of their narrative. In effect, this was the PLO’s last significant act in the political arena. Israel intended the PLO’s recognition to act as a de facto declaration of its own suicide. Since then, the PLO has ceased to be an important political actor, and all that functionally remains of it is the Palestinian Authority — which serves as Israel’s subcontractor for violent crackdowns in the West Bank. Two years after the Accords were signed, the PLO committed to annulling the sections of the Palestinian National Charter that do not recognize Israel. At the time, this seemed to me an ill-considered move; I published an article in Haaretz titled, “There is No Compromise Without Recognition.” The annulment of the Charter’s statements was done without any action by Israel in return, which still refused to commit to recognizing a Palestinian state in the occupied territories or the right of self-determination of the Palestinian people and other national rights in their homeland. These historic factors helped bring about the present situation, in which Israel is an immovable “fact on the ground” and has narrowed the scope of territory on the negotiating table from the entirety of Israel/Palestine to merely the West Bank, now the sole territory even remotely up for discussion. If the dispute is over Palestine as a whole, then the division of the entire territory from the river to the sea into two entities is the optimal solution. But if the whole problem boils down to the territories occupied in 1967, then a reasonable solution would lead to the division of the disputed territory between the settlers and the Palestinians. This narrowing of the territory up for debate drastically alters the playing field: if the Palestinians insist on controlling the entirety of the occupied territories, they will be perceived as obstinate radicals who are claiming everything for themselves. The fact that the Palestinians have already waived their right to more than two-thirds of their homeland before even sitting down at the negotiating table is never taken into consideration. This was a trap set for the Palestinians, who have been unable to free themselves from it to this day. Unfortunately, it is not the only such trap. Palestinian workers cross Eyal checkpoint in Qalqilya in the early morning hours to reach their workplaces beyond the Green Line, occupied West Bank, January 10, 2021. (Keren Manor/Activestills) Palestinian workers cross Eyal checkpoint in Qalqilya in the early morning hours to reach their workplaces beyond the Green Line, occupied West Bank, January 10, 2021. (Keren Manor/Activestills) Self-professed ‘terrorists’ Recently, a rising chorus of critical voices has demanded that the PLO withdraw its recognition of Israel, since Israel did not comply with the conditions of the Oslo Accords. But this is a dangerous claim. Recognition, by its very nature, is one-time and cannot be retracted. Furthermore, recognition is not a tangible, material asset — its importance lies in its symbolism, and in the absence of such symbolism, it is bereft of meaning. If the Palestinians want to withdraw their recognition, they will never again be able to trade it for Israeli withdrawal from territories under its control, since the Israelis will never believe that recognition won’t again be rescinded. The exchange of letters between Arafat and Rabin also included a clause in which the PLO pledged to renounce, and not only condemn, terrorism. That is, the PLO itself agreed to call its struggle up to that point “terrorism.” This posed several problems, but I want to focus on one in particular. I have no intention of having a debate about the definition of terrorism. Rather, the problem is related to the future: what will happen if Israel does not agree to withdraw from the occupied territories or to a two-state solution? What means will be available to Palestinians in their fight against occupation? The difficult answer to these questions became painfully apparent in the late ‘90s. Israel halted the Oslo process and continued expanding the settlement project. It was not at all clear where the Oslo process would lead and what the permanent solution would ultimately be. Israel controlled the land, the air, the borders, the water, and all the resources, and merely handed over management of parts of the population under occupation to the PA; in other words, Israel maintained actual control, but put all responsibility on the PA’s shoulders. What’s more, the agreement did not include an explicit stipulation that would prohibit the continuation of settlement construction in the occupied territories. A demonstrator from Deir Jarir waves a Palestinian flag following a march against construction on Palestinian land by residents of the Jewish settlement of Ofra, occupied West Bank, April 26, 2013. (Issam Rimawi/Flash90) A demonstrator from Deir Jarir waves a Palestinian flag following a march against construction on Palestinian land by residents of the Jewish settlement of Ofra, occupied West Bank, April 26, 2013. (Issam Rimawi/Flash90) Under these conditions, Palestinians could neither advance toward an independent state nor return to the logic of revolution and armed struggle. Not only do they still lack the power and organization to do so, but they are also conceptually trapped by the Oslo Accords. The world — above all, Israel, the European Union, and the United States — recognized the PLO on the basis that it renounced terrorism and accepted certain rules of the game. Therefore, a return to armed struggle is inescapably viewed as a return to terrorism — only this time, the Palestinians themselves will have given a name to their struggle, and they themselves have called it terrorism. Now the rest of the world is allowed to call it terrorism, too. The language of “terrorism” transformed between the First and the Second Intifada. The First Intifada began within a generation of the start of the occupation, so the world saw it and the wider Palestinian struggle as a legitimate response to military rule. The Second Intifada, which came as a response to massive Israel violence following Israeli Prime Minister Ariel Sharon’s visit to Haram al-Sharif/Temple Mount in Sept. 2000, came against the backdrop of the Oslo peace talks. For the most part, international observers saw every stone thrown in the First Intifada as being thrown against the occupation and in favor of national liberation, but the stone throwing that came after Oslo was viewed as “terrorism.” Oslo 30 Years - Small Banner The context had changed, and with it the meaning of Palestinian resistance. The result has been that peace talks with Israel fail to achieve any goal, but a return to armed struggle is also problematic. The Palestinians are trapped. I have no intention of proposing a manifesto for the future, but I do think that any idea of going back, re-establishing the PLO and returning to the principles on which the organization was founded 60 years ago, is now a non-starter. From here we can only move forward. The PLO did its job; it seared the word “Palestine” into the world’s consciousness and proved that there is such a thing as the Palestinian people. Today’s generation has a different role in a different reality: to draft a new manifesto with the awareness that between the sea and the river there are 7 million Jews and 7 million Palestinians, and the Israelis control the Palestinians and maintain a regime of Jewish supremacy that expels the latter from their land every single day. This is our starting point. A version of this article was first published in Hebrew on Local Call. Read it here. Oslo Accords Local Call PLO Yasser Arafat The Oslo Accords: 30 Years Later Dr. Raef Zreik is a jurist and researcher, expert in political philosophy and philosophy of law, senior lecturer in Property Law and Jurisprudence at ONO Academic College, associate academic director at the Minerva Center for Humanities at Tel Aviv University and senior research associate at the Van Leer Jerusalem Institute. Our team has been devastated by the horrific events of this latest war. The world is reeling from Israel’s unprecedented onslaught on Gaza, inflicting mass devastation and death upon besieged Palestinians, as well as the atrocious attack and kidnappings by Hamas in Israel on October 7. Our hearts are with all the people and communities facing this violence. We are in an extraordinarily dangerous era in Israel-Palestine. The bloodshed has reached extreme levels of brutality and threatens to engulf the entire region. Emboldened settlers in the West Bank, backed by the army, are seizing the opportunity to intensify their attacks on Palestinians. The most far-right government in Israel’s history is ramping up its policing of dissent, using the cover of war to silence Palestinian citizens and left-wing Jews who object to its policies. This escalation has a very clear context, one that +972 has spent the past 14 years covering: Israeli society’s growing racism and militarism, entrenched occupation and apartheid, and a normalized siege on Gaza. We are well positioned to cover this perilous moment – but we need your help to do it. This terrible period will challenge the humanity of all of those working for a better future in this land. Palestinians and Israelis are already organizing and strategizing to put up the fight of their lives

Thursday, February 20, 2025

Yasir Arafat, Palestinian Leader

Yasser Arafat Palestinian leader Also known as: Muḥammad ʿAbd ar-Raʾūf al-Qudwah al-Ḥusaynī, Yāsir ʿArafāt Written by Fact-checked by Last Updated: Jan 16, 2025 • Article History Quick Facts Also spelled: Yāsir ʿArafāt Byname of: Muḥammad ʿAbd al-Raʾūf al-Qudwah al-Ḥusaynī Also called: Abū ʿAmmār Born: August 24?, 1929 [see Researcher’s Note], Cairo?, Egypt Died: November 11, 2004, Paris, France Top Questions Who was Yasser Arafat? What role did Yasser Arafat play in Palestinian politics? When was Yasser Arafat born and when did he pass away? Yasser Arafat (born August 24?, 1929 [see Researcher’s Note], Cairo?, Egypt—died November 11, 2004, Paris, France) was the president (1996–2004) of the Palestinian Authority (PA), chairman (1969–2004) of the Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO), and leader of Fatah, the largest of the constituent PLO groups. In 1993 he led the PLO to a peace agreement with the Israeli government. Arafat and Yitzhak Rabin and Shimon Peres of Israel were jointly awarded the Nobel Prize for Peace in 1994. Early life Arafat was one of seven children of a well-to-do merchant and was related, by his father and by his mother, to the prominent al-Ḥusaynī family, which played a major role in Palestinian history (among its members was the grand mufti of Jerusalem, Amīn al-Ḥusaynī, a key figure of the opposition to Zionism during the British mandate). In 1949 Arafat began his studies in civil engineering at Cairo’s King Fuʾād University (later Cairo University). He claimed to have fought as a volunteer during the first of the Arab-Israeli wars (1948–49) and then again against the British at the Suez Canal in the early 1950s, although these claims—along with other facts and episodes from his early life—have been disputed. While a student in Egypt, he joined the Union of Palestinian Students and served as its president (1952–56). He was also associated with the Muslim Brotherhood, and in 1954, in the crackdown that followed an assassination attempt on Egyptian leader Gamal Abdel Nasser by one of their members, Arafat was jailed for being a Brotherhood sympathizer. After his release he completed his studies, graduating with an engineering degree in July 1956. Arafat was subsequently commissioned into the Egyptian army, and in October 1956 he served on behalf of Egypt during the Suez Crisis. Creation of Fatah After Suez, Arafat went to Kuwait, where he worked as an engineer and set up his own contracting firm. In 1959 he founded Fatah, a political and military organization, with associates such as Khalīl al-Wazīr (known by the nom de guerre Abū Jihād), Ṣalāḥ Khalaf (Abū ʿIyāḍ), and Khālid al-Ḥassan (Abū Saʿīd)—individuals who would later play important roles in the PLO. At that time most Palestinians believed that the “liberation of Palestine” would come as a result of Arab unity, of which the first step was the creation of the United Arab Republic between Egypt and Syria in 1958. Central to Fatah doctrine, however, was the firmly held notion that the liberation of Palestine was primarily the business of Palestinians and should not be entrusted to Arab regimes or postponed until the achievement of an elusive Arab unity. This notion was anathema to the Pan-Arab ideals of Nasser and the Egyptian and Syrian Baʿth parties, which were then the most influential parties in the region. Second in importance for Arafat and Fatah was the concept of armed struggle, for which the group prepared as early as 1959, following the model of guerrillas fighting in the Algerian War of Independence. Algeria’s independence from France, achieved in 1962, confirmed Arafat’s belief in the soundness of the principle of relying on one’s own strength. Fatah carried out its first armed operation in Israel in December 1964–January 1965, but it was not until after 1967, with the defeat of the Arab forces by Israel in the Six-Day War (June War), that Fatah and the fedayeen (guerillas operating against Israel) became the focus of Palestinian mobilization. In 1969 Arafat was named chairman of the executive committee of the PLO, an umbrella organization created in 1964 by the Arab League in Jerusalem, which had until then been under the control of the Egyptians. Although Arafat and Fatah were the main players in the PLO, they were not the only ones. Contrary to other liberation movements—such as the National Liberation Front of Algeria, for example, which eliminated all its rivals—Fatah not only had to take into account rival organizations (such as the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine, led by George Ḥabash, and the Democratic Front for the Liberation of Palestine, led by Nayif Hawātmeh) but also had to cope with interference from various Arab governments. Such interference stemmed largely from the fact that no Arab country was able to consider the Palestinian issue a truly foreign affair. The Syrian and Iraqi Baʿthist regimes, for example, challenged the PLO with their own “Palestinian” organizations (al-Ṣāʿiqah and the Arab Liberation Front, respectively); each maintained deputies within the PLO itself and were funded by and entirely dependent upon their sponsor governments. Indeed, throughout his life Arafat tried to maneuver among these constraints, understanding that the unity of the Palestinians was their best asset. Get Unlimited Access Try Britannica Premium for free and discover more. After 1967 most of the Fatah forces were based in Jordan, whence they launched attacks against Israel. Not only were the assaults largely unsuccessful, but they also created tension with Jordan’s King Ḥussein that culminated in the king’s decision in September 1970 to put an end to the PLO presence in Jordan altogether. Following Black September, as the expulsion of the PLO came to be known, in 1970–71 the fedayeen migrated to Lebanon, which became their main base until 1982. Toward diplomacy After its defeat in Jordan, Fatah moved to international acts of terrorism through its “Black September” organization. In parallel, however, Arafat also began to change course and tried a diplomatic approach, especially after the Yom Kippur War (October War) of 1973. Arafat renounced the idea of liberation of the whole of Palestine and the creation of a democratic state where Muslims, Christians, and Jews would coexist (which meant the destruction of Israel as a state) and accepted the notion of a state comprising the West Bank and Gaza Strip, with East Jerusalem as its capital. In Arab summits in 1973–74, the PLO was recognized as the sole legitimate representative of the Palestinian people. As a result, the organization was able to open offices in many countries, including in some cities in Europe. In November 1974 Arafat became the first representative of a nongovernmental organization to address a plenary session of the United Nations (UN) General Assembly. While the United States and Israel considered the group a terrorist organization and refused any official or nonofficial contact with it, a number of European countries soon began political dialogue with the PLO. In 1975–76 the armed Palestinian presence in Lebanon helped fuel that country’s descent into civil war, and, in spite of Arafat’s early efforts to remain free of it, the PLO was drawn into the fighting. The large-scale intervention of the Syrian army in Lebanon in mid-1976 in support of the Christian right against the PLO-Muslim-left alliance strained relations between Arafat and Syrian Pres. Ḥafiz al-Assad. As a result, Syria alternated between undermining or confronting the PLO (by attacking it directly or indirectly through Palestinian factions) and seeking to draw it into its orbit (by attempting to establish a sort of protectorate over it). Arafat, however, suspicious of Syria, strove to maintain PLO autonomy. The Israeli invasion of Lebanon forced Arafat to abandon his Beirut headquarters at the end of August 1982 and set up a new headquarters in Tunis, Tunisia. Conflict between Syria and Arafat broadened in the wake of the Israeli invasion, and Syria took advantage of a rift in the PLO to support anti-Arafat factions, hoping to remove Arafat and restyle the PLO as a pro-Syrian organization. Although Arafat tried to return to Lebanon in 1983, he was besieged by Fatah rebels supported by Syria and was again forced into exile. Syria’s actions, however, bolstered support for Arafat among many Palestinians, and, as the PLO split healed, Arafat was subsequently able to reaffirm his leadership. UN partition plan for Israel and Palestine in 1947 UN partition plan for Israel and Palestine in 1947 The outbreak in December 1987 of the first intifada (from Arabic intifāḍah, “shaking off”)—large-scale riots and demonstrations that would continue for more than five years—gave Arafat new, much-needed legitimacy following his departure from Beirut and confirmed Palestinian support for the PLO from within the Palestinian territories. Although the intifada empowered Arafat, it also marked the birth of the militant Islamist organization Hamas, which would later become Fatah’s main challenger in the West Bank and Gaza Strip. In November 1988 Arafat led the PLO to recognize UN General Assembly Resolution 181 (the famous partition plan of November 1947) and UN Security Council Resolutions 242 and 338 (which called for an end to the Six-Day War and Yom Kippur War, respectively). He also announced the establishment of an independent Palestinian state (without defined borders), of which he was nominated president. Within days more than 25 countries (including the Soviet Union and Egypt but excluding the United States and Israel) had extended recognition to the government-in-exile. From agreement to the second intifada of Yasser Arafat Oslo Accords: Declaration of Principles on Palestinian Self-Rule 1 of 2 Oslo Accords: Declaration of Principles on Palestinian Self-RuleU.S. Pres. Bill Clinton (center) looking on as Israeli Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin (left) shakes hands with Palestinian leader Yasser Arafat after the signing of the Declaration of Principles on Palestinian Self-Rule, September 1993. Discover a historical milestone in the Israeli-Palestinian relationship with the signing of the Declaration of Principles, 19932 of 2 Discover a historical milestone in the Israeli-Palestinian relationship with the signing of the Declaration of Principles, 1993U.S. Pres. Bill Clinton shaking hands with Israeli Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin and Palestinian leader Yasser Arafat after the signing of the Declaration of Principles on Palestinian Self-Rule, 1993. See all videos for this article On October 30, 1991, following the Persian Gulf War, the Madrid Conference—a peace conference including Arab countries, Palestinians, and Israel—opened under the joint presidency of the United States and the Soviet Union. There the Palestinians were represented not through the PLO—which the Israeli government refused to deal with—but through a joint Jordanian-Palestinian delegation led by Palestinians from the occupied territories. Although the Madrid talks themselves failed to achieve a substantive agreement, they were valuable in paving the way for additional negotiations. Among these was a secret channel of negotiations in Oslo, held beginning in January 1993 between PLO and Israeli officials, which produced an understanding known as the Oslo Accords. In September 1993 Arafat and Israeli Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin exchanged letters in which Arafat, as head of the PLO, formally recognized “the right of the State of Israel to exist in peace and security” while Rabin recognized the PLO as the “representative of the Palestinian people” and made clear Israel’s intention to begin negotiations with the organization. On September 13, 1993, Arafat, Rabin, and U.S. Pres. Bill Clinton signed the Declaration of Principles on Palestinian Self-Rule in Washington, D.C. The Israeli-PLO accord, also known as Oslo I, envisioned the gradual implementation of Palestinian self-government in the West Bank and Gaza Strip for a transitional period not exceeding five years and leading to a permanent settlement based on UN Security Council Resolutions 242 and 338. The following year Arafat returned to the Gaza Strip and began implementing Palestinian self-rule. Yasser Arafat, Shimon Peres, Yitzhak Rabin: Nobel Prize Yasser Arafat, Shimon Peres, Yitzhak Rabin: Nobel PrizeYasser Arafat (left), Shimon Peres (center), and Yitzhak Rabin with their Nobel Prizes for Peace, 1994. The provisions of the Declaration of Principles were enacted on May 4, 1995, by a pact signed by Arafat and Rabin in Cairo. Several months later, in September 1995, Rabin, Arafat, and Israeli foreign minister Shimon Peres—all newly named winners of the Nobel Peace Prize—signed the Interim Agreement on the West Bank and Gaza Strip (often called Oslo II). The agreement established a schedule for Israeli withdrawals from the Palestinian population centers (to be implemented in several stages) and created a complex system of zones that were divided between areas fully controlled by the Palestinians, those under Palestinian civil authority but Israeli military control, and those exclusively under Israeli control. It also set elections for a president and council of the Palestinian Authority, which would govern the Palestinian population in the occupied territories, and on January 20, 1996, Arafat was elected president of the PA. With a turnout of close to 80 percent, Arafat won 88 percent of the vote. Wye River Memorandum Wye River MemorandumYasser Arafat (far left), leader of the Palestinian Liberation Organization, signing the Wye River Memorandum alongside (left to right) King Hussein of Jordan, U.S. Pres. Bill Clinton, and Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, 1998. Relations with Rabin had remained respectful, even if they were sometimes difficult—especially on the sensitive subject of Israel’s ongoing settlement activity. But with Rabin’s assassination by a Jewish extremist in November 1995 and the election in May 1996 of Benjamin Netanyahu—leader of the Likud, a right-wing political party, and an opponent of the Oslo Accords—as prime minister, relations grew strained. Negotiations became deadlocked, even after an intervention by Clinton, who arranged a summit meeting with the two leaders at the Wye Plantation in eastern Maryland in 1998. Negotiations were revived after the election of Israel Labour Party leader Ehud Barak as prime minister in 1999, but in a very tense context. The unabated continuation of settlement activity—some 100,000 more settlers arrived in the West Bank between 1993 and 2000 (without taking Jerusalem into account)—created great discontent among the Palestinians and strengthened the Hamas opposition to the Oslo Accords. For his part, Arafat proved unable to create the structures of an independent state (for reasons linked with his own shortcomings and with the fact that most of the West Bank and Gaza Strip were still occupied). In July 2000 Clinton convened a summit at Camp David in northern Maryland, where the historic Camp David Accords between Israel and Egypt had been negotiated in 1978. The aim was to find a final agreement to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict after five years of Palestinian self-rule. The summit was hastily prepared, however, and, since the most contentious issues—the question of the right of return for Palestinian refugees, control of Jerusalem, borders, and Jewish settlements in the West Bank and Gaza Strip—were being discussed for the first time, it was unlikely that these sensitive and complex matters would be resolved quickly. From the beginning, Arafat was suspicious of the summit and its timing, and although some progress was made, in the end there was no final settlement. Negotiations continued after the failure at Camp David, but a visit by Likud leader Ariel Sharon to the Temple Mount in Jerusalem in September 2000 sparked the second intifada, and the dwindling talks ground to a halt. A spiral of harsh repression by the Israeli army and violence by different armed Palestinian groups subsequently led to both sides’ total loss of confidence in the peace process. In spite of the January 2001 negotiations at Ṭābā, Egypt, which were held independently of the United States and made important progress, the Barak government lost the February 2001 general elections and Sharon—a strong opponent of both the Oslo Accords and the creation of a Palestinian state—was elected prime minister. “We have no partner for peace” was once more the general sentiment of many Israeli political parties. Arafat lost much of his diplomatic credibility with the West after the election of U.S. Pres. George W. Bush in November 2000 and the launch of the “war on terror” in 2001, which followed the September 11 attacks on the World Trade Center in New York City and the Pentagon in Washington, D.C. In 2001, following suicide attacks in Israel that Sharon blamed Arafat for instigating, Arafat was confined by Israel to his headquarters in Ramallah. In October 2004 Arafat fell ill and was transported to Paris for medical treatment, where he died the following month. Fatah later passed a unanimous resolution that held Israel responsible for Arafat’s death. Alain Gresh Many of Arafat’s supporters doubted that he had died a natural death, their suspicions being fueled in part by the doctors’ inability to identify the origin of his illness and the lack of an autopsy, and rumors circulated that he had died from poisoning. These suspicions surfaced again in July 2012 when a Swiss laboratory announced that it had discovered elevated levels of polonium-210 on some of Arafat’s clothes and personal belongings. French prosecutors launched a murder investigation later that year in response to a request by Arafat’s widow. In November 2012 Arafat’s remains were exhumed so that teams of Swiss, Russian, and French experts could test for signs of poisoning. The results of the separate investigations, released in late 2013, were contradictory. The Russian report was released first and found no traces of polonium-210. The Swiss and French results both found abnormally high levels of polonium-210 but disagreed on how it got into his remains: the Swiss study concluded that poisoning could not be ruled out, while the French study concluded that the presence of polonium-210 could be explained as environmental in origin. No report went without controversy, moreover. There were claims of outright interference in the Russian investigation, including claims that the Russian scientists were instructed on what the outcome should be. The Swiss report cited a number of intervening factors that effected uncertainty in the interpretation of the results, including the length of time since the death and the incomplete “chain of custody” of Arafat’s clothes and belongings studied in the earlier investigation. Palestinian officials and Arafat’s widow dismissed the French conclusions as “politicized.” The Editors of Encyclopaedia Britannica Legacy An assessment of the personality of Yasser Arafat must take into consideration both his deep religiosity and his fierce nationalism (even if he tended to equate Palestinian nationalism with himself). He often said that he was married to the Palestinian cause, and indeed he had no other bride—at least until he married Suhā al-Ṭawīl, a Sorbonne-educated Palestinian woman of Christian origin, in 1990. He customarily worked late into the night, sometimes receiving leaders and journalists well after midnight. He lived in modest fashion—even as he provided supporters with money and costly favors, purchased influence, and accepted the corruption of many of those around him—and, in spite of criticism of his authoritarian style of governing, he managed to gain a wide popularity among his people. His opponents—both in Israel and in the Arab world—were numerous, however, and Arafat escaped so many assassination attempts through the years that his intuition and resilience became a sort of legend. To assess Arafat’s life as a whole is no easy task. He succeeded in putting the Palestinians back on the political map after their disastrous uprooting in the middle of the 20th century. He was also able to maintain the unity of a cohesive Palestinian organization in spite of interference from neighboring Arab states. But Arafat’s shortcomings in building solid state institutions after 1993 were matched by his shortcomings in understanding the Israeli public and its fears. At the end of his life he had reached a state of complete diplomatic isolation—and yet, as Hamas and Fatah continued to vie for influence in the occupied territories in the years after his death, it looked as though history might find that he was the last Palestinian leader able to sign a peace agreement and impose it on the Palestinian community as a whole