Middle East Still Stuck in the Stone Age

By JON D. HULL/JERUSALEM.

Beatings. Mass arrests. Rubber, plastic and lead bullets. The Israeli army has deployed all these and more against the Palestinians in a futile effort to smash the revolt that erupted in the occupied West Bank and Gaza Strip on Dec. 9, 1987. In the two years since then, Israel's politicians have bickered endlessly and fruitlessly in the search for a solution. The intifadeh goes on, the deaths go on, the Arab-Israeli stalemate goes on.

Back in 1987, few thought the revolt would last long enough to mark a first anniversary, let alone a second. Israeli leaders insisted the rebellion would be quickly crushed. But a second year without a settlement pays credit to the Palestinians' remarkable endurance and ingenuity. Armed with stones and Molotov cocktails, Arab youths have managed to confound the Israeli army, regain their tattered pride, and remind the world that Israel's "enlightened" occupation is a painful contradiction in terms. Yet many Palestinians fear their revolution has stalled. Mass demonstrations have given way to smaller skirmishes waged by a hard-core group of activists, and Israel has yet to concede so much as an inch of land. Meanwhile, the world's attention has been diverted by more dramatic events elsewhere. Frustrated and embittered, many Palestinians wonder whether they can afford the price necessary to reach a compromise.

Since the first fusillade of stones and bullets two years ago, more than 750 Palestinians have been killed and tens of thousands wounded. Sixty have been expelled, and 6,000 remain imprisoned without trial. Israeli troops have sealed or demolished at least 400 homes. At the same time, the Jewish population in the territories has increased 12%, to nearly 80,000, not including East Jerusalem, and the government has quietly inaugurated six new settlements.

Yet none of this has spelled defeat for the Palestinians. Ironically, the uprising's survival is assured by the army's harsh measures, which are drastic enough to guarantee hatred among Arabs but not to end the revolt. The methods Israel has refined to keep the intifadeh in check may be more responsible for Palestinian solidarity than the slogans of the Arab leadership, so that the uprising has been institutionalized as a self-perpetuating expression of pride and anger. But a growing number of Arab extremists argue that stones are no longer sufficient. "The only way we're going to get rid of the Israelis is with force," says a young activist from Nablus. "We have to make them suffer." So far, Palestinians have succeeded in killing 42 Jews, most of them civilians. The activist says several hundred more will have to die before Israel can be brought to the negotiating table.

Palestinian guerrillas armed with automatic weapons offered a grim demonstration of that philosophy last month when they ambushed an Israeli patrol in the Gaza Strip and killed two soldiers. But stepped-up Palestinian violence will only beget more violence from Israel. Warned Brigadier General Zvi Poleg, who commands Israeli forces in Gaza: "The rules of the game change when lethal weapons are used against soldiers."

That is precisely what worries Palestinian moderates, who fear that any escalation would jeopardize hard-won international sympathy. Already, the carefully nurtured image of a rebellion fought by children with stones has % been tarnished by a gruesome turn to Arab-vs.-Arab bloodshed. At least 140 Palestinians have been shot, beaten, stabbed or hacked to death by fellow Arabs. Most of the victims were charged with collaborating with the occupation.

The Palestinians most hated by their neighbors are those who brandish Israeli-provided weapons. In the West Bank village of Ya'bad everyone knows -- and shuns -- three Palestinian brothers who watch over the community with binoculars, Uzis and walkie-talkies. Says a resident: "These traitors carry out the army's job, beating people, destroying property and shooting in the air day and night just to scare us." Intifadeh leaders have made such blatant collaboration a capital offense. Other victims are accused of offending Islamic factions by trafficking in drugs and sex. And some are the victims of personal vendettas or tribal rivalries: the label of collaborator provides a convenient cover for settling scores.

To many Israelis, these killings are proof that the uprising is merely a brutish expression of Palestinian hostility. But that attitude ignores the fundamental accomplishments of the intifadeh. Two years of prime-time revolt have wrought an extraordinary shift in international, and especially U.S., public opinion, convincing many of Israel's supporters that the Jewish nation's continued rule over 1.7 million Arabs is dangerous and absurd. And after decades of serving as pawns for larger powers, the Palestinians in the West Bank and Gaza have taken control of the Arab struggle against Israel, forcing the rest of the Arab world to play catch-up. Jordan's King Hussein took his cue last year by revoking his claim to the West Bank. Last December P.L.O. Chairman Yasser Arafat made capital out of the uprising by renouncing terrorism and recognizing Israel's right to exist.

Arafat's excruciating conversion earned the P.L.O. a dialogue with Washington, but brought on nightmares in Jerusalem. Pressure mounted from the Bush Administration and American Jews, and Israeli Prime Minister Yitzhak Shamir finally countered with an initiative last spring that calls for elections among Palestinians in the territories. Representatives chosen there would negotiate a period of autonomy with Israel, to be followed by the promise of talks on a final settlement.

Jerusalem has been in the middle of a game of hot potato ever since. The main obstacle: how to assemble a Palestinian delegation that gives Arafat a voice but allows Israel to pretend that the P.L.O. is not party to negotiations. So far, no formula has been found. While the U.S. is growing impatient with Shamir's delaying tactics, President Bush appears unwilling to expend his political capital by pressuring Shamir. Privately, many U.S. officials have concluded that Shamir is incapable of compromise.

Most Israelis have grown inured to the disturbances. Except for annual stints in the reserves, few ever come into contact with the violence. "We've simply got used to the intifadeh," says Joseph Alpher, deputy head of the Jaffee Center for Strategic Studies in Tel Aviv. "The hardships are not unbearable." But the insidious effects are profound, and may eventually force Israel to choose between the territorial claims of its more extreme politicians and sheer self-preservation.

Israeli moderates warn that the occupation is corrupting both the army and society. Says Israeli author David Grossman, whose 1988 book, The Yellow Wind, limned the destructive effect on Israel's soul of the continued occupation of the West Bank: "We are training our youngsters to be cruel and brutal. They bring that back home."

Israel's growing number of hard-liners remain unsatisfied with what they see as the army's insufficiently tough approach. Complains Noam Arnon, a spokesman for settlers in Hebron: "This is a war, but the army treats it like a minor disturbance." Yuval Ne'eman, a right-wing Knesset member and advocate of annexation, accuses the government of outright appeasement. "We're moving in the direction of giving up land," he says. "The Arabs have brought Mr. Shamir to his knees."

Few Palestinians would agree. Without some movement in the peace process, they may soon conclude that further violence is the only way to force a political breakthrough. Says Grossman: "I'm afraid things will have to get much worse before they improve. I'm afraid it will have to become a violent crisis." That would suit both Arab and Jewish extremists just fine. Israeli hawks have been waiting for an excuse to pull out the heavy artillery, and Arab radicals are eager to renew their holy war. As the intifadeh enters its third year, both sides seem poised for nothing more than further bloodshed.