I grew up a Zionist—not out of ideological conviction, but because I thought all Jews were Zionists. Living in west Los Angeles in the early 1960s, being Jewish meant telling Jewish jokes, attending temple three times a year, having a discriminating palate for chopped chicken liver, and donating dimes to plant trees in the Negev desert of Israel.
Being Jewish also meant unconditional support for Israel. When studying for my bar mitzvah and later for confirmation, I learned the Zionist version of history: Jews had faced genocide in the Holocaust, Israel provided the world's only safe haven for our people, and now the Arabs wanted to kill us all.
By 1965, I had joined the growing anti–Vietnam War movement while attending the University of California, Berkeley. That movement for the first time presented me with an alternative view. It shocked me to learn that Israel supported the Vietnam War, allied with the dictatorial Shah of Iran, and had close ties with the apartheid regime in South Africa. Israel later even helped South Africa develop atomic weapons.1
I learned that Israel supported US, British, and French military aggression while opposing groups fighting colonialism. While claiming to be the victim of a far superior Arab force, in fact, Israel had the strongest military in the region. Most importantly, every time Israel went to war claiming self-defense, it grabbed new territory. By the end of the June 1967 War, Israel had expanded more than three times the size of its original borders under the 1948 UN plan while refusing to recognize the legitimacy of a Palestinian state. At that time, Israeli officials argued that if Palestinians wanted a homeland, they should go to Jordan.2
For me, this all came to a head in June 1967, when Israel waged war against Syria, Egypt, and Jordan. After only six days, Israel won a decisive military victory and seized the West Bank, the Gaza Strip, and Syria's Golan.3 I opposed the war. When I announced my newfound beliefs to my parents in Los Angeles, they freaked out. It was worse than marrying a Catholic. They flew me down from Berkeley to meet the rabbi.
Rabbi Isaiah Zeldin was an outspoken liberal, a supporter of civil rights, and an opponent of the Vietnam War. A few years earlier he had founded Stephen S. Weiss Temple, a bastion of liberal Jewry. But like most Jewish liberals, he believed that Israel was only acting in self-defense. For people of my parents’ generation who lived through the virulent anti-Jewish bigotry of the 1930s and ’40s, and the horrors of World War II, Israel could do no wrong. Or if it did, as American Jews, they couldn't say anything about it.
I spent the day with the rabbi, arguing Middle East history and Zionism. I learned a lot from the discussion. For example, that there were labor and conservative Zionists. The labor Zionists advocated social democracy and some set up egalitarian kibbutzim (communes). But neither Zionist trend recognized the rights of Palestinians. The rabbi argued that American Jews shouldn't criticize Israel unless they were willing to move there. Engaging in a little Talmudic debate, I asked, “So if a Vietnamese living in America wants to criticize the Vietnam War, he must first move to Saigon?” The rabbi was not amused.
Rabbi Zeldin lost the argument that day. I broke with Zionism and supported a two-state solution in which Israeli and Palestinian nations could live in peace. I also wanted Israel to return all of the Golan to Syria. Little did I know that I would someday see the Golan from both sides of the disputed border.
An Israeli friend and I got ready for the five-hour drive from Jerusalem to the Golan. I planned to interview Israelis and Arabs living there about the Syrian Civil War. My friend took us on the scenic route, past the Dead Sea area, east to the Jordanian border, and then north on a two-lane road that skirted the Sea of Galilee. Then I realized why we took this route. On the left was the sea, the region's largest source of fresh water. On the right were hills sloped upward at a sharp angle.
“Before the Six Day War,” my friend said, “Syrian army snipers would shoot at us from those hills.” Syrian troops would also lob artillery shells into Israel. Israel captured the Golan in 1967, lost some of it in the 1972 war, and then annexed the remainder in 1981. For years the Israeli government considered these hills critical for its self-defense. Whatever the accuracy of that claim before 1967, today it makes no sense because missiles need no commanding heights. Extremist rebels have lobbed mortars and fired rifles from Syria into the Israeli kibbutzim in the Golan. Annexing the Golan hasn't guaranteed Israel's security. Only a mutually beneficial political settlement can do that.
We continued our journey as the road wound through the mountains. My rented car (“May I please have your least expensive model?”) slowed as we hit the steep grades. The Golan has become quite a tourist attraction. Israelis come here to ski, backpack, and taste wine. Kibbutzim raise grapes and other fruit. One even became famous for dubbing TV and films into Hebrew. Broadband may one day replace drip irrigation as a source of sustenance.
An estimated twenty thousand Arabs of Syrian origin live in the Golan—those who didn't flee after the 1967 war. Most, but not all, are Druze, and they live in their own towns. The Israelis live in kibbutzim but say they get along well with the Druze. Compared to relations with Palestinians, that's true. But most Druze resent the continued occupation of Syrian land and also support Palestinian self-determination. The citizenship statistics tell the story. The Arabs could become Israeli citizens, enjoying the same status as Israeli Arabs, but 90 percent refuse. Since those born after 1967 aren't Syrian citizens either; they became stateless.
By midafternoon, we entered Majdal Shams, the largest Arab town in Golan. Now the road got really steep, potholes multiply, and I was downshifting into first gear. I can only imagine what the roads were like during the time of colonial occupation, when donkeys and horses must have suffered multiple hernias.
At the center of one traffic circle sits a statue of men in traditional Druze dress. There stands Pasha Sultan al-Atrash and his fighters from the 1925 rebellion against the French. From these Jabal Druze hills, he gathered his fighters to attack the French railroads and military camps. The Arabs of Golan proudly remember that history.
In 2006, I visited the same area, but from the Syrian side. The government had constructed a small building near a UN observation tower to accommodate meetings along this international border. Below was a chain-link fence and a no-man's-land mined by the Israelis. Syrians used bullhorns to shout to relatives standing on the Israeli side. It became known as “the shouting fence.” For years it was the only way families could communicate after being separated by the 1967 war.
Cell phones and e-mail had almost replaced the bullhorns. But as Syria's civil war destroyed cell phone towers and sometimes slowed Internet connections to a crawl, the shouting fence came back into fashion. Residents just don't use bullhorns anymore. “There are problems with communications now,” said Maryam Ajami, whose apartment overlooks the fence from the Israeli side. “I used to contact my relatives by Skype, but now we go over there, to the roof of that restaurant, and talk to each other over a public address system.”4
The shouting fence was just one reminder of Israeli occupation. Akba Abu Shaheen, an elementary school teacher living in the occupied Golan, told me he wanted the area returned to Syria. He admitted that economic conditions are much better here in Israel than in Syria. But he quoted Jesus that “man does not live by bread alone.” He added, “My history, culture, my family, and I belong to Syria.”5
Given the civil war across the border, however, the question arises: To which Syria would Golan return? The civil war has split residents into pro- and antigovernment factions. Shaheen is Druze, an Islamic minority group. The war affects him personally because he said extremist rebels would persecute minorities if they came to power. “It's important for me not to live in a religious country, but in a secular country,” said Shaheen. “It's important for Syria to remain a state for all its people.”
Shaheen stridently supported President Bashar al-Assad, echoing the Syrian government argument that outside forces created the uprising. He argued that even before the Tunisian uprising that initiated the Arab Spring, imperialist powers were plotting against Syria. “I think it was an international conspiracy on Syria from the very beginning,” said Shaheen. “Maybe the CIA or other agents took many young people from Arab countries to West Europe to train them.”
But other Golan residents said the uprising reflected genuine popular discontent with the Syrian government. Dr. Ali Abu Awad favored the rebel Free Syrian Army and suffered the consequences. He said pro-Assad militants firebombed his car and attempted to burn down his house. He told me that in the long run, a rebel victory would improve the lives of ordinary Syrians. “Assad the dictator made Syria a desert politically,” he said. “It will take time to make democracy in Syria. But we have a history. We have people who can do that.”6
But how long will that take? I took a side trip in the Israeli-occupied Golan to try to find out. I was working with a local Arab journalist, Hamad Awidat, who had been recommended by a friend. But I hadn't known him previously. He was our fixer, the person who set up interviews, translated, and arranged transportation. After nightfall we drove down an isolated and pitch-dark dirt road outside Majdal Shams. He said our destination was a surprise. I wasn't sure if we were being set up for a scoop or a kidnapping. Even a flat tire would have stranded us for hours.
The Golan air was chilly and crisp. A kibbutz orchard stretched out on the right. Finally the driver stopped in front of a large rock and a concrete barrier. It was the end of Israel. Below were the fence, no-man's-land, and lights from Syrian towns. We could hear the distant pounding of Syrian army artillery. Awidat pointed out the areas controlled by the Syrian army, the Free Syrian Army, and al-Nusra. It was a minitableau of the civil war. It would take a long time before one side could prevail.
We saw a vehicle at the border flash its lights. Awidat explained that every night Israeli military ambulances went to the border to pick up severely wounded people. Syrians living in the proregime areas generally had access to government hospitals. Rebels and their supporters did not. The Israelis said they would treat severely wounded people as long as they did not carry arms. The Israelis treated both civilians and FSA soldiers. In order to make sure they don't allow al-Nusra extremists to enter, the Israeli military had to coordinate with the FSA.
Officially, Israel had proclaimed its neutrality in Syria's civil war. But as indicated by its policies in the Golan, the reality was different. To find out more, I had to visit Tel Aviv.
Israel's public-transport system is quite good. I arrived at Jerusalem's central bus station one morning, stood in a short line, and paid the equivalent of eleven dollars for a one-way ticket to Tel Aviv, which is forty-two miles away. A bus left every twenty minutes. My bus quickly filled with students, retirees, business people, and young soldiers clad in olive-green uniforms and carrying Galil assault rifles. I was off to interview experts at Tel Aviv University, one of the country's most prestigious educational institutions.
While the transport system is cheap and efficient for Israeli Jews, it's very different for Arabs. Palestinians from the West Bank can't travel anywhere in Israel without special passes. Palestinian residents of East Jerusalem are legally able to travel but are often afraid to ride the bus. On a previous trip from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem, I sat next to a young woman grading papers in English. She turned out to be a Palestinian resident of East Jerusalem who commuted to teach at an Arab school near Tel Aviv. On the bus, she never wore a hijab nor spoke in Arabic. She spoke only English, fearing the driver or a passenger would throw her off. By being quiet, she hoped to pass as a foreigner.
I got off at the Tel Aviv station and took the short taxi ride to the university. I walked into the sprawling campus to meet Eyal Zisser, a history professor and dean of the Faculty of Humanities. Back in early 2011, when most of the world welcomed the democratic aspirations of the Arab Spring, Israeli leaders were already wary, according to Zisser. After all, demonstrations were targeting pro-US dictators who had reached accommodations with Israel. Israel might have to pay the price for having cooperated with such repressive regimes.
So when Syrians rose up, Israeli leaders were wary once again. For all Syria's anti-Israel rhetoric and supposed support for Palestinians, the Assad family had kept the Israeli border quiet and secure. “He's the devil we know,” Zisser told me. “We got used to Bashar al-Assad. This regime is evil…but at the same time, it kept the border quiet. Better to stay with Bashar al-Assad. Who knows what will happen if he falls?”7
Zisser explained that Israeli leaders held split opinions about Syria, much as in Washington. Some Israelis preferred to see the overthrow of Assad if a compliant Sunni regime came to power. Zisser summarized that view. “Any future Sunni regime will be better for Israel than Bashar…because this will be a blow against Hezbollah and Iran. Any Sunni government will be more moderate because it will be connected to the Saudis, Turks, and Americans.” The flaw in that argument, he noted, is that a Sunni regime could also open the door for al-Qaeda.
Zisser said other government leaders believed Israel benefitted so long as the civil war continued. “Bashar will stay in power, strong enough to keep the border quiet but too weak to attack Israel. That's the ideal situation for Israel. Unfortunately, at one point or another, the war will end.”
And I thought American leaders were callous about the impact of war on ordinary people.
I walked a few blocks over to the Institute for National Security Studies (INSS), a university-affiliated think tank. About half the analysts were former government officials. I figured this was as good a place as any to hear the divergent views within Israeli ruling circles.
“Assad is considered to be a serious enemy of Israel because he's firmly in the Iranian-led camp,” said Mark Heller, an INSS analyst.8 Israeli leaders initially thought Assad would be out of power quickly. In December 2011, Israeli defense minister Ehud Barak told the World Policy Conference in Vienna that Assad would be overthrown “within weeks.”9
Israeli leaders considered various outcomes. One of the worst would be a new parliamentary government in Syria that respected minority rights, a result Heller thought highly unlikely. “If the dictatorship of Assad was replaced by a liberal democratic regime, then it might be a little harder for Israel to occupy the moral high ground and to resist demands for a peace agreement that included major territorial concessions.”
Heller said the longer Assad stayed in power, however, the more Israeli leaders adjusted their policies. “People are in a watch-and-wait mode.”
But critics said Israel was doing a lot more than watching and waiting. Israel was helping the FSA. It made use of close ties with the army and intelligence services of Jordan, where the CIA was training rebels. A commander who left the Free Syrian Army to join an extremist rebel group said Israeli intelligence helped train the FSA in Jordan.10 Israeli leaders will never acknowledge such cooperation because they know full well that any public declaration of Israeli support would discredit the FSA.
In one of the great ironies of the war, both Assad and the rebels accuse Israel of helping the other side. And to some extent it's true. At one point Israel was happy to see a weakened Assad stay in power, although it soon sought his overthrow. Israel hoped all sides would exhaust themselves fighting, leading eventually to a new dictator willing to deal realistically with Israel.
In the fall of 2013, Israel acknowledged providing food and water to Syrian villages along the Golan border in addition to treating the wounded. Israel characterized this as “humanitarian assistance” and not taking sides in the war.11 But Israeli officials certainly knew which villages were controlled by the FSA, the Syrian army, and al-Nusra. They made sure aid didn't go to al-Nusra or the army. But there were even more direct signs of Israel's opposition to Assad.
The Israel Defense Forces (IDF) attacked Syria on five occasions in 2013, each time claiming it wasn't taking sides in the civil war but only stopping arms shipments to Hezbollah. The IDF didn't publicly acknowledge any of the raids, but US intelligence confirmed them. In January Israeli planes fired missiles at a Syrian convoy carrying Russian SA-17 antiaircraft missiles, allegedly being delivered to Hezbollah. Then twice in May, Israel launched missile strikes at a warehouse storing advanced surface-to-surface missiles and other arms.
US intelligence sources said the warehouses contained Iranian Fateh-110s, solid-fuel missiles with a capability of hitting Tel Aviv from Lebanon. Israel unilaterally asserted the right to deny Hezbollah such “game changing” weapons.12 On those days, the IDF also attacked Syria's main military complex in Mount Qasioun and the Scientific Studies and Research Center, both in Damascus and well away from the missile warehouses. The attack killed over a hundred soldiers, with many dozens injured.13
It's difficult to verify claims that Israel attacked only weapons destined for Hezbollah. After all, the Syrian army also used Fateh-110 missiles. But even if true, why would “neutral” Israel attack a Syrian army headquarters? IDF officials knew Syrian soldiers would be killed. I think Israel hoped to weaken Assad at a time when his troops were winning some battles against the rebels.
Smaller-scale attacks continued. In July, the IDF attacked a missile depot in Latakia and then repeated the attack in November, having apparently missed some munitions in the original strike.14 Israel launched yet another attack near the Syrian–Lebanese border in February 2014.15
Firing missiles at another country constitutes an act of war—unless you're Israel or the United States. Israel was just asserting its right to punish Syria for crossing a red line drawn unilaterally by Israel. As a practical matter, the Assad regime was too weak to respond. And Israel was getting ready to enforce a much bigger red line—this one drawn by the Obama administration.
In September 2013, Israel threw its full weight behind Obama's plans to bomb Syria in connection with the use of chemical weapons. Israeli officials argued that US credibility was on the line. Israel drew red lines and enforced them militarily. Now it was time for the United States to do the same.
A high-ranking Israeli official finally admitted that Israel favored Assad's overthrow. “We always wanted Bashar Assad to go,” Israeli ambassador to Washington Michael Oren told the Jerusalem Post.16 “We always preferred the bad guys who weren't backed by Iran to the bad guys who were backed by Iran.” He continued, “The greatest danger to Israel is by the strategic arc that extends from Tehran, to Damascus to Beirut. And we saw the Assad regime as the keystone in that arc.”
Around the same time, the New York Times wrote, “As the death toll has mounted, more Israelis joined a camp led by Amos Yadlin, a former head of Israeli military intelligence, who argues that the devil you know is, actually, a devil who should be ousted sooner rather than later.”17
For Israeli leaders, the time had arrived to topple Assad. A US bombing campaign would provide cover for a rebel takeover. Israel mobilized its powerful lobbying apparatus in Washington to sway public opinion and pressure Congress. Such campaigns had always worked in the past, whether to increase US military aid to Israel or to tighten sanctions on Iran.
In August, the American Israel Public Affairs Committee (AIPAC) mobilized hundreds of followers to lobby Capitol Hill to back Obama's plans to bomb Syria. They spread out to meet with conservative Republicans and centrist Democrats, convinced they would prevail. But they lost, big time. Obama had so little popular support that he didn't dare risk a congressional vote authorizing war.
Abraham Foxman, national director of AIPAC, said rather defensively, “There's nothing sinister, nothing conspiratorial, nothing wrong with the lobbying arm relating to Israel and the Middle East supporting the president on this issue.”18 AIPAC was formed in 1951 to promote closer relations between the United States and Israel. In its mission statement, AIPAC carefully stresses the mutually beneficial nature of its work: “The mission of AIPAC is to strengthen, protect and promote the U.S.-Israel relationship in ways that enhance the security of Israel and the United States.”19
But opponents said AIPAC uncritically accepted Israeli policies that made a peace settlement impossible. For example, AIPAC uncritically supported ultra-right-wing prime minister Benjamin Netanyahu's expansion of Jewish settlements in the West Bank and Jerusalem. AIPAC and other groups making up the Israel lobby had healthy war chests, strong support from key American politicians, and the reputation for defeating politicians at the polls who didn't support their pro-Israel positions.
That's why the Israel lobby's three defeats in 2013 were so surprising. The lobby failed to prevent the confirmation of Chuck Hagel as secretary of defense in February 2013, despite Hagel's alleged “anti-Israel” bias. In September it failed to mobilize public opinion to bomb Syria. And then in late 2013, the Obama administration began talks with Iran to prohibit development of nuclear weapons. The Israel lobby joined with right-wing and centrist senators in an effort to toughen sanctions against Iran, which would likely have ended the negotiations.20 The Israel lobby lost and, as of mid-2014, new sanctions weren't imposed.
Mustafa Barghouti said AIPAC's defeats were quite significant. He leads the Palestinian National Initiative, a small socialist party in the Palestinian parliament. When Barghouti ran for president in 2005, he garnered 20 percent of the vote.
Referring to AIPAC's defeats, Barghouti told me in a West Bank interview, “For the first time, it became clear there is a huge divergence between the Israeli government policy and American policy…. Once AIPAC tried to get a resolution that hurts the interests of the American public, they couldn't pass it. This will go in history as a very important turning point.”21 He said American Jews didn't want war despite the heavy push from Israel and AIPAC. He praised the rise of liberal Jewish lobby groups.
An ad hoc coalition of liberal Jews, progressive Iranians, and peace groups helped defeat AIPAC. “This is the best we've ever been coordinated,” Lara Friedman told the Jewish Telegraphic Agency. She's director of policy and government relations for Americans for Peace Now, a liberal Jewish peace group. “There's a whole bunch of groups, we're disparate, we have our own agendas, our own boards and positions, but we're sharing information the way an informal coalition should, and it's empowering people to be more effective. This is the most energizing and fun thing I've done in years. You feel you're not alone.”22
A subheadline in the liberal Israeli daily Haaretz summed up the predicament of Israel and its lobby: “Israel finds itself isolated in the world arena, with only Saudi sheikhs and US lawmakers at its side; perhaps it's time to consider other diplomatic options besides perpetual petulance.”23
AIPAC and the Israel lobby remained powerful, however. They had no intention of folding their tents anytime soon. So it remains to be seen if the 2013 defeats were temporary or a long-term trend.
Amid the upheaval of civil war, the future status of the Golan has gotten lost. It's worth reviewing recent history to see how it might be resolved.
When Israel captured Arab land in 1967, the United Nations passed Resolution 242, calling for the return of all occupied territory, among other provisions.24 Israel promptly ignored 242. Through the 1970s, Israel sent settlers to build infrastructure and kibbutzim in the Golan. Israel ruled under military administration. Then in 1981, Israel decided to govern Golan with the same civilian laws used in other parts of Israel, effectively annexing the occupied territory. Neither Syria nor the United Nations recognized the annexation. In December 1981, the UN Security Council unanimously passed Resolution 497, declaring the annexation “null and void.”25 Even the United States—Israel's staunchest ally—rejected the annexation and continues to see the Golan as occupied territory.
Today the Golan includes some twenty thousand Israeli settlers living in more than thirty settlements.26 An estimated twenty thousand Syrians and their descendants lived in their own towns, often getting jobs in the settlements. An uneasy peace prevailed as the vast majority of Arabs wanted to reunite with Syria while the settlers strongly opposed returning any of the land.
Israel and Syria periodically hold negotiations on the Golan issue. In 1999 and 2000, the two sides came close to a settlement. Israel proposed to return territory based on maps drawn by Britain and France in the 1920s. Israel would keep all of the Sea of Galilee and ten meters of its shoreline. Syria insisted on the 1967 border, which included all of the occupied land and a small northeast corner of the Sea of Galilee. The difference could be measured in yards, according to analyst Heller.
He said both sides descended into an argument that “only lawyers could appreciate.” The dispute hinged on whether “the waterline as it existed in the early 1920s was the permanent feature or whether the border should move as the level of the lake fell or rose. The substantive point is that Israel doesn't want Syria touching the waterline.”27
That difference is critical. The Sea of Galilee is an important source of fresh water for Israelis. They want complete control. Syria, on principle, wanted all of its territory back. It also wanted to have access to an important source of water. As Mark Twain reportedly said, “whiskey is for drinking, but water is for fighting.”
In 2008 both sides tried again to reach a settlement, using Turkey as an intermediary. The conflicting sides never met face-to-face, instead passing messages along to Turkish leaders. Assad was reluctant to start one-on-one talks unless he could be assured of success.28 Assad reportedly said that he and then Israeli prime minister Ehud Olmert came close to making a deal.29
As word leaked of a possible peace plan, settlers in the Golan strongly objected. They issued a statement that all settlement construction would continue unabated. Then, in December, Israel launched a three-week assault on Gaza in an effort to stop Palestinians firing homemade rockets into Israel. That eliminated the chance for any Golan settlement, and the Turkish dialogue ended.
In 2010 both sides tried yet again. Prime Minister Netanyahu's government held secret talks with Syria. Israel saw Syria as a potential weak link in a Syria-Iran-Hezbollah axis. It hoped to break off Syria and then move on to a settlement with Lebanon, excluding Hezbollah. Netanyahu offered to return all of the Golan if Assad would break with Iran, according to a report in the Israeli daily Yedioth Ahronoth. Netanyahu denied he made such an offer.30 Talks ceased in 2011 with the beginning of the Arab Spring uprisings.
One reason talks never succeeded was that Israel kept shifting the goalposts. Israeli officials would launch Syrian talks when negotiations with the Palestinians weren't going well, hoping to reach a separate deal with Syria. Later, they added the new condition that Assad break with Iran in order to make progress on Golan. Then Israel argued that it couldn't return the Golan because there's no stable government in Syria. “As a general principal, Israel's permanent preference is to have authoritative decision making bodies on the other side so Israel can carry out a rational, strategic dialogue,” analyst Heller said.31
As the civil war in Syria intensified, Israelis reached an informal consensus not to negotiate about the Golan. Zvi Hauser, Israel's cabinet secretary from 2009 to 2013, wrote an opinion article for Haaretz: “Israel will not be capable of dealing with a three-pronged front, consisting of Iran on a nuclear threshold, a failing Palestinian state…and a Syria dangling its feet in the Sea of Galilee.”32
Instability in Syria certainly raised serious problems of how to return the Golan. But it could be resolved. Both sides could agree on borders in principle while postponing implementation until Syria became stable. That solution doesn't appear likely anytime soon.
I had learned the Israeli and Druze views about the civil war, but where did the Palestinians stand? For that I traveled to both the West Bank and the Gaza Strip.
Crossing from West Jerusalem to Ramallah was very easy when I first visited in 1986. I went to one of the main hotels in Arab East Jerusalem and found a collective taxi. They were old-school Mercedes limos with an added bench seat. The car for millionaires became transformed to a nine-seat taxi with several hundred thousand kilometers on the odometer. I'd pay a few shekels, grab an empty seat, and get dropped off anywhere in Ramallah.
The world changed in the 1990s. Under the guise of preparing for two states, Israel created militarized structures that functioned as border crossings between countries, except Israeli soldiers had total control of the border. Combined with the separation wall that cuts the West Bank off from Israel, Palestinians became trapped in an area designated by Israel, not the result of swapping land for peace. Israeli officials claimed these procedures protected the country from terrorism, but they served only to anger Palestinians and make reaching a peace agreement more difficult.
During a recent trip I drove on a modern four-lane highway from West Jerusalem, past Israeli housing in East Jerusalem, and then dropped off onto a side street that took me to the crossing point. It was traveling from the first to the third world. On the outskirts of the Kalandia checkpoint, dusty lots held a few cars, and there seemed to be no parking rules.
I didn't know where to cross, so I began walking toward some Israeli soldiers. One advanced menacingly toward me, motioning me away. I asked politely in English where I should enter. His mood suddenly brightened, and in excellent English, he pointed to a turnstile. As a foreigner I'm permitted to visit the West Bank. Israeli citizens are not allowed.
Once in the West Bank town of Kalandia, I was welcomed by a vibrant, third-world cacophony. Taxis gunned their engines and seemed to honk their horns in syncopation. The smell of hot olive oil and baking baklava filled the air. Pedestrians had no right of way in front of insistent drivers.
Taxi drivers quickly surrounded me, offering the best deal for the thirty-minute drive to Ramallah. At least, they assured me it was the best deal. I came to interview Hannan Ashrawi, a former spokesperson for the Palestinian peace negotiators, human-rights-group founder, and a member of the Palestine Liberation Organization executive committee.
I've interviewed Ashrawi numerous times because she's intelligent and capable of giving a straight answer in flawless English. She doesn't always give a straight answer, but at least I know it's not a communication problem. Ashrawi has aged, as have we all. She sat calmly behind her desk at the PLO headquarters and asked if the interview was for print or radio. For broadcast interviews, she would give short sound bites. For print, she would provide more elaboration. I was filing for both print and radio, I explained, causing momentary confusion. “Give me the long version,” I said.
Ashrawi acknowledged that the Syrian uprising remained a controversial question. In general, Palestinians sympathized with people overthrowing dictators, she said, in part because the United States and Israel have a long history of allying with such men. “The United States has been dealing with dictators for years,” she said. “Dealing with dictators is much easier. All you have to do is convince the big man, and generally, they are men.”33
Ashrawi said Palestinian leaders in the West Bank are neutral. “We have Palestinians in every neighboring country that are vulnerable. Any side you take, the Palestinians will pay the price. We are in principle on the side of the people…and of course on the side of human rights, democracy, and rule of law. All we know is that violence won't solve anything.”
Fatah is one of the two major parties in Palestine and the main force in the PLO. Fatah and the Palestinian movement had frequent conflicts with the Assads. In 1976, when Syria was backing the Christian right wing in Lebanon, Syrian troops helped lay siege to the Tel Al-Zaatar refugee camp, resulting in the death of an estimated three thousand Palestinians. Hafez al-Assad tried to take over the PLO and install his own man to replace Yasser Arafat in the 1980s (see chapter 4). “There's a long history of problems between Fatah and Assad,” Ashrawi told me. “I remember when Fatah fighters and revolutionaries were in Syrian jails. But you're not supposed to hold a grudge.”
Palestinians were extremely optimistic when the Arab Spring began, according to Ashrawi. “It was a transformational process. It was the will of the young, the reformers, the women, and civil society. We believed it was a defining moment in the history of the Arab world.”
Mustafa Barghouti agreed. He told me Palestinians enthusiastically supported the Arab Spring for the same reason Israeli leaders opposed it. Genuinely popular Arab governments would support the Palestinians and refuse to make backroom deals with Israel. “We thought these movements will improve the Palestinian situation because the public in general is very supportive. If the public has the right to direct the policy, then this will be a stronger solidarity with Palestine.”34
But Palestinians faced disappointments when the Arab Spring in Egypt and Libya turned to a frigid winter. Ashrawi said in some cases, the polarization between the old, corrupt regime and political Islam “led to the exclusion of the forces of reform and democratization that should have taken over. In other cases,” she said, referring to Egypt, “the people who did rebel and bring down the regime mobilized in cyberspace but couldn't organize on the ground to bring out the vote.”35
In the case of Syria, Palestinians thought Assad would be overthrown quickly, Ashrawi said. “People underestimated that the control of the Assad regime is powerful, not just the apparatus of government but also the private sector and others…. It's not just the Alawites.” Ashrawi remained optimistic about the possibility of progressive change in the Arab world. “By definition transitions are painful, unpredictable, quite often destabilizing. We are still in this period of transition. The cost is exorbitant in human lives particularly in Syria. It's still in a state of flux.”
Getting to Gaza wasn't easy. The Israelis strictly controlled their border, and for many years the Egyptian authorities made it impossible for journalists to enter from their side. That changed for a brief time in 2011. The people had overthrown the Mubarak regime and wanted greater support for the Palestinian cause. Border restrictions eased. That's when I entered Gaza.
I made arrangements through the Egyptian press office in Cairo. At that time no visa was required to enter Gaza. Anyone crazy enough to visit Gaza was apparently welcome. I hired a car and driver and we set out for the five-hour drive from Cairo to the Rafah border crossing. We jumped in the car, buckled our seatbelts, and couldn't leave the parking space for five minutes because the Cairo traffic was so thick.
We started late and got caught in Cairo's morning rush hour. Of course, it's always rush hour in Cairo. This was just worse. Once we got past the airport and onto a four-lane highway, the driver zoomed past cars at about eighty miles per hour. I liked the Cairo congestion better.
The Sinai is lots of desert—and flies. Moses and the Jews wandered here for forty years after outfoxing the pharaoh. I didn't fault them for getting lost. The Sinai stretches for arid miles, the sand only interrupted by an occasional lonely road.
An Egyptian press-office representative met me at the Rafah crossing point and escorted me through customs. I was pleased to have him there. The process of filling out forms and inspecting luggage was complicated, involving numerous lines. I would never have figured things out on my own. Finally, I paid a small fee and boarded a large bus. We drove about thirty yards to enter Gaza. There's no foot traffic or civilian cars, and certainly no commercial trucks. Requiring everyone to ride a bus gives authorities on both sides greater control.
The bus passengers included forty-nine Palestinians and me. When we arrived in Gaza, efficient guards with full beards took our passports: Let's see: Ahmad, Deeb, Shafi, Erlich—Erlich? The guard motioned me to wait at the side. Eventually a supervisor who spoke some English came to ask why I wanted to visit Gaza. I explained that I was a journalist, holding my hands in front of my head as if I was operating a movie camera. “CNN,” I said, using the internationally recognized term for crazy American journalist. I explained that I wasn't with CNN but was a journalist like those on CNN. He smiled, perhaps thinking he would see himself on satellite TV that night.
I gave him the mobile number of a friend who was picking me up. He phoned, we all met, and then I went through an informal entry process. The supervisor asked my friend for the names of his father and brothers. Gaza had a population of about one million, so everyone knew everyone else, or at least someone in the family. My friend was warned that if I did something wrong, he would be held responsible. With that, we sped off as fast as the potholed roads would allow.
I interviewed a number of Hamas officials. They made clear that Hamas stood with the people of Syria against Assad. “We are with the people wherever they are fighting for their political and economic rights,” said Ziad El-Zaza, Gaza's former deputy prime minister. “The blood of Arab martyrs is on the heads of the government leaders in Syria.”36 That's a huge change for Hamas, which had been close allies of Syria. To understand why they split, let's look at some recent history.
Hamas had won the Palestinian parliamentary elections of 2006. International observers praised the elections as democratic.37 But the United States, Israel, and Fatah wouldn't accept defeat. The long-simmering differences between Hamas and Fatah boiled over and fighting broke out. By 2007 Hamas seized control of Gaza, and Fatah took the West Bank.
The two parties, at that time, also differed in their attitude toward Syria. Fatah had an antagonistic relationship with the Assads dating back decades. The Syrian government prohibited Fatah from organizing among Palestinian refugees living in Syria or Lebanon. Hamas, on the other hand, had allied with Syria. Hamas moved its headquarters to Damascus in 2001. But it was always a marriage of convenience. Syria was a secular state that repressed its own Islamic movements. Hamas was a conservative Sunni organization that opposed secularism. As Khaled Meshal, chair of Hamas's Political Bureau, told me in a Damascus interview, “We and Syria have the Israel issue in common. So we have good relations.”38
When the popular demonstrations began in Syria, however, Hamas criticized the Syrian regime's repression. When armed rebellion broke out, Hamas supported the rebels affiliated with Syria's Muslim Brotherhood. Meshal closed Hamas's Damascus office in January 2012 and moved to Doha, Qatar.
For a time, Hamas seemed to have come down on the right side of history. Conservative Islamists gained influence in Syria. The Egyptian Muslim Brotherhood, a close Hamas ally, won the parliamentary and presidential elections. The brotherhood expanded the Egyptian border crossings with Gaza, a policy begun under Mubarak. But Gaza residents still couldn't import goods on a commercial scale, so tunnel smuggling was allowed to increase.
The tide then turned against Hamas. When the Egyptian military overthrew the Muslim Brotherhood government in June 2013, Hamas lost an important ally. The military closed the smuggling tunnels and restricted border crossings through Rafah.
Hamas had also allied with Iran. They agreed on opposition to Israel but had many disagreements on other issues. When Hamas broke with Assad, Iran cut financial aid to Gaza. Iran had reportedly been paying $20 million per month to help provide basic services for Palestinians. But that ended in 2013.39
Hamas officials wouldn't discuss specific figures, but Ghazi Hamad, deputy foreign minister, said, “For supporting the Syrian revolution, we lost very much.” He said military cooperation has stopped as well. Ahmed Yousef, an advisor to the Gaza prime minster, said “We never expected that a country like Iran, which talked about oppressed people and dictatorial regimes, would stand behind a dictator like Assad who is killing his own people.”40
Hamas even broke with its old ally Hezbollah. On June 17, 2013, Hamas called on Hezbollah to withdraw its troops from Syria and concentrate on the fight against Israel.41
Hamas turned for support to Qatar, the United Arab Emirates, and Turkey. The emir of Qatar became the first head of state to visit Gaza and pledged $400 million in aid. Hamas's shift away from Syria and Iran could have long-term ramifications. Hamas leaders could remain independent, accepting money from diverse sources. Or their close reliance on money from US allies such as the gulf countries could open new possibilities for US and Israeli influence. If that seismic shift were to occur, at a minimum, Hamas would have to be included in the Palestinian-Israeli peace talks. That doesn't appear likely anytime soon.
Palestinian views on Syria are divided. In the beginning they welcomed an uprising that would replace Assad with a popular government more supportive of the Palestinian cause. As the civil war dragged on, however, they became concerned with external forces and extremist groups hijacking the uprising. Nevertheless, Palestinians overwhelmingly opposed Assad. A poll by the Palestine Center for Policy and Survey Research showed only 12.6 percent of Gaza and West Bank residents supported Assad's regime.42 A University of Haifa opinion poll among Israeli Arabs, also known as 1948 Palestinians, indicated that 72 percent supported or strongly supported the end of Assad's regime.43
To be sure, some Palestinians in the West Bank and Gaza supported Assad. The Arab Socialist Baath Party in Palestine has held small rallies in the West Bank. Hamas prohibited pro-Assad demonstrations in Gaza, although some Assad supporters tried to organize rallies. A few prominent Palestinians supported the Syrian regime, most notably Bishop Atallah Hanna of the Greek Orthodox Church in Jerusalem.44
Political leader Barghouti, on the other hand, said the Arab Spring revolutions, including in Syria, would eventually triumph. “I believe this is just one stage, like has happened in many revolutions in the world. You have revolutions and counterrevolutions. People seek their way. I'm optimistic.”45
Palestinians overwhelmingly rejected foreign interference in Syria's war. Sixty-three percent opposed US and European arms going to the rebels, according to a 2013 Pew research poll.46
A similar percentage opposed US military intervention in Syria, a view that united Hamas and Fatah as well. Both argued that any US attack would serve to put pro-US forces in power, not help the Syrian people. “The Americans do not want good [for] the Syrian people,” said Hamas spokesman Salah Bardaweel. “The Americans only want to serve American and Israeli interests.”47 Fatah also strongly condemned US hypocrisy in criticizing Syria's use of chemical weapons. Fatah official Abbas Zaki said that the United States didn't act “when Israel used phosphorous weapons during its aggression against the Gaza Strip in 2008 and 2009.”48
Palestinians don't want foreign domination of Syria, but neither do they want dictatorship—secular or religious. Assad used support for Palestine as a justification for staying in power. But it turns out that he had little justification to claim their popular support.
Israelis and Palestinians can't help but see Syrian developments through their own lenses. For Israeli leaders, the civil war gave them temporary respite from a devilish leader but presented the possibility of ultra-right-wing Islamists gaining influence. They continue to fear democratic reforms in the Middle East. “We are a minority in the region,” explained history professor Zisser. “Minorities always prefer a strong authoritarian regime rather than a popular regime backed by an unreliable majority.”49
Palestinians said such a view dooms Israel to isolation and paranoia. “The Israelis are afraid of Arab democracy,” said political leader Barghouti. “Israel is shortsighted because democracy will come to the Arab world.”50
This argument reminded me a lot of the discussion I had with Rabbi Zeldin in 1967. Back then, Israel had to ally with dictators such as the Shah of Iran and leaders of apartheid South Africa because if the masses took over in those countries, they would oppose Israeli policies. Memo to Israeli leaders: maybe Israeli policy is the problem, not the people of the world.