An Irreplaceable but Tired Symbol

By James Kelly

Arafat fails to heal the divisions within a weakened P.L.O.

The meeting had been promised for nearly a year, then scheduled, canceled and scheduled again. At one point Yasser Arafat vowed to hold it on a boat at sea if no other site could be found. The Palestine National Council, a sort of parliament in exile, finally convened in Amman last week for its annual session. Next to Arafat sat King Hussein of Jordan, who glossed over past differences with the P.L.O. leader to be host to the convention in his capital. "You have defeated attempts to impose guardianship," Hussein told the delegates, "and proved once again that the Palestine Liberation Organization is the sole legitimate representative of the Palestinian people."

Hussein was alluding to the stubborn efforts by Syrian President Hafez Assad to block the session. Though Assad failed, he ordered several Syrian-based factions of the P.L.O. to boycott the proceedings. The meeting thus deepened divisions within the troubled organization, with both pro-Arafat and anti-Arafat sides claiming the cause of a Palestinian homeland as their own. Whether or not the rift hardens into a permanent split, the internecine conflict promises to weaken further the organization that has come to represent the hopes of 4 million Palestinians.

The animosities within the P.L.O. were tragically reflected last week in the Israeli-occupied West Bank and Gaza Strip. On Wednesday, pro-Arafat and anti-Arafat Palestinian students held noisy rallies at Bir Zeit University, northeast of Jerusalem. After the demonstration, some of the students began stoning cars; Israeli soldiers pushed the students back onto the campus. The Palestinians threw rocks at the Israelis, who responded with tear gas. An Israeli army spokesman said that the soldiers had to fire to "extricate themselves" from the crowd, but a television clip showed one soldier at the head of a squad approach a group of stone throwers and fire his gun, thereby setting off further clashes. One student was killed, and four were wounded. One Israeli soldier also was injured. In Ramallah the next day, Israeli troops broke up a mob of about 50 Palestinians who were throwing stones at Israeli cars. One student was killed and another wounded.

The PL.O.'s divisions were evident from the start of the five-day Amman conference, when roll call was taken and the names of missing delegates echoed through the Hussein Sports City auditorium. Since the Israelis would not allow the 180 delegates who live in the West Bank and Gaza Strip to attend, only 249 members of the 374-seat council were needed for a quorum. To cobble the necessary numbers, Arafat aides persuaded the deputy speaker to appoint several dozen loyalists temporarily to vacant seats. On the second day the delegates voted to dismiss Khaled Fahoum, the council speaker and an Assad ally, and replace him with Sheik Abdul Hamid al Sa'eh of Jordan.

Amman resembled an armed fortress, mostly out of fear that Arafat or Hussein might be assassinated. Green-bereted soldiers stood watch on rooftops, roads were blocked, and helicopters clacked overhead. At the Regency Palace Hotel, where Arafat stayed, P.L.O. aides tested the food before it was served. The city held a bitter nostalgia for host and guest alike: in what became known as the "Black September" of 1970, Hussein's army began to expel the P.L.O.'s guerrillas from Jordan.

Dressed in a khaki army jacket and black-and-white kaffiyeh, Arafat looked incongruous in the sea of dark business suits. Peppering his talk with quotes from the Koran, Arafat called for more terrorist operations against Israel. Though he did not mention the P.L.O. dissidents or Assad by name, Arafat obliquely admitted his own fallibility by referring to "some errors" in the Palestinian movement. Nonetheless, he asked for a vote of confidence. "I will accept any verdict or judgment," he declared.

In his opening address, King Hussein stressed peace and negotiations, not terrorism. He urged the P.L.O. to seize what he called "a last chance" by joining Jordan in an international peace conference under United Nations auspices that would work toward establishing a Palestinian homeland. The plan, first proposed by Moscow, calls for both the U.S. and the Soviet Union to participate, along with Israel and Arab countries. The Jordanian monarch, who broke off talks with Arafat in April 1983, took a polite dig at Arafat's legendary indecisiveness. "The justification of the existence of a leader rests on his fulfillment of his responsibilities with wisdom and courage," Hussein declared. "It is not indefinite suspension but proper utilization that endows time with meaning."

Throughout his career, Arafat has made P.L.O. unity his paramount concern. The result, more often than not, has been paralysis. While hard-liners grew angry with Arafat's reluctance to embrace only violence, moderates became frustrated by their leader's failure to pursue diplomatic initiatives that might lead to the creation of a Palestinian homeland. When a group of Arafat's followers broke away in May 1983, it became clear that the dispute was no longer just about policies; it was also about Arafat. The rebels were led by Abu Mousa, a former commander in the Bekaa Valley, who was upset over the promotion of two comrades. Syria's Assad, eager to seize control of the Palestinian movement, fanned the revolt by giving Abu Mousa's troops financial aid and a safe haven in eastern Lebanon. "The Syrians want Arafat's head," recently explained Abu Iyad, the P.L.O.'s chief political strategist. "They want to remove the symbol of the revolution because their real aim is to have the P.L.O. as a political card in Assad's pocket."

Arafat retains control over Fatah, the largest of the nine groups that make up the P.L.O. Based in Tunis, Fatah accounts for 60% of the organization's estimated 35,000 fighters. Yet Arafat's soldiers are scattered across camps in seven Arab countries. Some 3,000, for example, live in North Yemen, more than 1,300 miles from Jerusalem. Abu Mousa's rebels, believed to number under 2,000, belong to the National Alliance, a Damascus-based amalgam of anti-Arafat groups backed by Syria and Libya. Caught between the two camps is the Democratic Alliance, a Marxist-oriented collection of P.L.O. branches that tries to retain as much freedom from Syria as possible, although it is also headquartered in Damascus. After three months of bargaining last spring, senior Fatah and Democratic Alliance officials agreed to a ten-point plan of reforms, including a collective leadership to replace Arafat's one-man rule and a 40-member executive council to oversee the P.L.O. 's decisions. The National Alliance would not buy the plan.

Early last week two leaders of the Democratic Alliance, Dr. George Habash and Nayef Hawatmeh, were summoned to Moscow. Though both men have been critical of Arafat, it was believed that they would prefer to settle their differences within the Palestinian council. The Soviets, moreover, are unhappy that their two major allies in the Middle East, Assad and Arafat, are at odds. Nonetheless, Assad prevailed: rumors that Habash would defy the Syrian ban and fly to Amman proved false.

Arafat is unlikely to urge the council to do anything that might worsen the rupture. When the new, 14-member P.L.O. executive committee is elected this week, several seats are expected to be left vacant for Democratic Alliance members. Whatever their reservations about Arafat, Alliance officials recognize the value of the P.L.O. chieftain. "As a symbol of the Palestinian conscience, Arafat is irreplaceable," admitted a prominent Democratic Alliance member. "The ideal solution would be to find some way of making him a charismatic leader without the executive power, of kicking him upstairs. But he wouldn't stand for it."

Even if Arafat succeeds in healing the breach with the Democratic Alliance, he will still be plagued by Assad's desire to control the P.L.O. Arafat could cast his lot completely with Hussein if the Jordanian King proved sincere in his desire to negotiate with Israel on the status of the West Bank and Gaza. But that would require decisiveness and imagination on Arafat's part, qualities for which he is not noted. That is why the fervid demonstrations of support for Arafat in the West Bank last week seemed so bittersweet. It is debatable whether any Palestinian leader could have won back West Bank land for his people, but Arafat has yet really to try.

-- By James Kelly. Reported by Roland Flamini /Amman and Roberto Suro/ Jerusalem

With reporting by Roland Flamini and Roberto Suro