The Making of a Figurehead: History Lessons From Tokyo and Ramallah
| WRMEA Archives 2000-2005 - 2003 May |
Washington Report on Middle East Affairs, May 2003, pages 42-43
Letter From the Levant
The Making of a Figurehead: History Lessons From Tokyo and Ramallah
By Sami Moubayed
As the world focuses its attention on Iraq and the future of President Saddam Hussain, the future of another Arab leader is at stake. For the first time in 40 years, Yasser Arafat is facing the real danger of becoming irrelevant. There has been much talk in the past three years about the overshadowing of Arafat by young military leaders like Jibril al-Rajjoub, civilian leaders of the intifada such as Marwan Barghouti, by hard-line Hamas nationalists and by Israeli Prime Minister Ariel Sharon himself.
The threat facing Arafat today, however, is a constitutional one, embodied in the office of prime minister, which he finally agreed to adopt in March 2003. The new post, which Arafat has long refused to establish, would counterbalance presidential power in the fragile Palestinian Authority (PA). In so doing, it would create a platform for someone to question Arafat on public spending, economic legislation, peace negotiations and internal affairs. If steered correctly, it could transform the PA into a state ruled by a prime minister with full powers, and a president with ceremonial ones.
This would be very difficult for someone of Arafat’s caliber, character, and towering influence to accept. It would be more difficult, however, to say no and step down from office. And, of course, should the new prime minister try to flex his muscles, Arafat surely will try to break him. Containing Arafat as his political career nears its end will be a very difficult task. In order to sideline an exceptional leader like Yasser Arafat, the new premier himself will need to be an exceptional man, with exceptional talents. This candidate is Mahmoud Abbas, popularly known as Abu Mazen.
The 68-year-old Palestinian statesman is one of the PLO’s most prominent, capable, and internationally popular figures. Because of his moderate policies, however, he enjoys little popularity at home, and has been trying to change that for some time. A former resident of Syria and a law graduate of Damascus University, he joined the PLO in 1965, and was a co-founder of Arafat’s Fateh movement following the 1967 Arab-Israeli war. Since then he has been in the international limelight as a civilian leader of the Palestinian resistance. In 1993, he was a signatory to the ill-fated Oslo peace agreement, and he has been touted within political circles as the PA’s second-in-command.
One reason the veteran Abu Mazen is a big name today, of course, is that over the past 30 years the PLO’s really big names were killed by Israel or warring factions within the resistance. Ali Hasan Salama, a “legendary” member of the Revolutionary Command Council and head of Arafat’s security, was slain in Beirut in 1979; al-Saiqa commander Zuhair Muhsin was killed in Cannes in 1979; Khalil al-Wazir (Abu Jihad), was killed by former Israeli Prime Minister Ehud Barak in Tunis in 1988; and Salah Khalaf (Abu Iyad), the director of PLO intelligence, also was killed in Tunis, in 1991. Had any of these men still been around, the chances of Abu Mazen becoming prime minister would be slim at best. A pragmatic and intelligent man, he nevertheless lacks the charisma of a Salama, the talent of an Abu Jihad, and the character of someone like Abu Iyad.
Abu Mazen’s appointment, therefore, comes with many strings attached and faces numerous challenges. For one thing, Arafat cannot continue to lead the Palestinians through a one-man show. Given his advanced age and ailments, he needs someone he can deputize when he is unavailable, or if he should die while in office. Secondly, Arafat must appoint a prime minister to satisfy the on-going demands for reform by his own people, the Arab world, and the U.S. Although he will accede to pressure, this doesn’t necessarily mean that Arafat will cooperate with his premier, or give him room to maneuver. Sources close to the PLO speculate that Arafat will try to hand Abu Mazen ceremonial duties while keeping him away from funds, senior appointments, and peace talks. Security and political issues, as well as pan-Arab affairs, also will remain off-limits to the new prime minister.
In short, according to these sources, Arafat views a prime minister as being solely in charge of economic affairs (something he himself does not know how to handle). By marginalizing the prime minister and restricting him to economic affairs, Arafat hopes to ensure that Abu Mazen will not succeed on his own and steal the spotlight. After all, economic prosperity can only be achieved when the occupation ends and a political resolution is reached with Israel—and this can only be done by Arafat. If he fails to achieve a political break-through, Abu Mazen in turn will fail to achieve an economic one. The two can sink together, but Arafat could not bear to see Abu Mazen floating alone.
To succeed, Abu Mazen must first earn the trust and respect of the Palestinian people. A declared dove who is not terribly enthusiastic about armed violence, his policies put him at odds with a people who have suffered greatly and are not willing to put down their arms with nothing to show for it. His appointment faces automatic opposition from militant groups like Hamas, Islamic Jihad, and large sections of Fateh (which Arafat no longer controls). The Israeli daily Ma’ariv editorialized that Abu Mazen’s nomination could have far-reaching strategic implications, “because he is a man with a backbone, a leader who doesn’t hesitate to come out against the intifada and against terror, which in his view is getting the Palestinians nowhere.”
Although his moderate reputation appeals to Israel, the Israelis have been careful not to be too enthusiastic in their support, lest it destroy his credibility among Palestinians and force him to back ultra-nationalist policies. Despite his reputation, however, in August 2001 his picture appeared on the front-page of Ma’ariv as one of the seven Palestinian leaders Ariel Sharon wanted to assassinate. Behind closed doors, however, the Israelis are pleased that Abu Mazen is coming to power, and that, finally, they can negotiate with someone other than Yasser Arafat. In fact, in January 2002 it was rumored in the Israeli press that Abu Mazen had met secretly with Sharon in the Negev Desert to discuss a cease-fire. Sharon reportedly told his aides that he would talk peace with anyone but Arafat (who, for two years now, Sharon has failed to arrest, depose, or assassinate). Abu Mazen, of course, has denied such a meeting ever took place.
Arafat’s situation in the face of Abu Mazen’s appointment as prime minister brings to mind the sidelining of Japan’s Emperor Hirohito at the end of World War II. From the beginning of his reign in 1921 until 1945, the Japanese people revered Hirohito as an unsmiling and uncompromising god. Following the country’s defeat by the Allies, Hirohito was retained at his post as a “symbol” of Japan, with no real political power. The American scheme, orchestrated by Gen. Douglas MacArthur, was to invest in his personality and presence, transforming him from an effective leader into a unifying force for his countrymen. After all, three million Japanese had died in a war launched in their emperor’s name, and deposing him would have been a major psychological blow to his former subjects, who could not imagine—or submit to—a government without him. In a famous speech, Hirohito denounced “the false conception that the Emperor is divine” and renounced the same violence he had encouraged only a few years earlier. Wielding no power whatsoever over affairs of state, he was transformed from a stern ruler into a nice, smiling, grandfatherly symbol for the people of Japan. When he died in 1989, he had endured on the world scene longer than any leader in history.
Similarly, prior to Oslo, Yasser Arafat was portrayed as the Palestinians’ unsmiling, un-compromising and supreme leader. The Che Guevara of the Arab world, revolver strapped to his side, Arafat was the perfect symbol of Palestinian resistance and honor. He was the head of a militant and uncompromising resistance movement. After the first intifada and the first Gulf war, however, Arafat found himself in a situation akin to Hirohito’s after WWII. Stripped of his powers by circumstances, and no longer able to impose his will on a society drenched in misery, poverty and war, Arafat faced two options: agree to U.S. demands for reform and remain in power, or leave the scene altogether.
Just as Hirohito accepted a made-in-America constitution, so Arafat accepted a made-in-America reform plan (which included creating the office of prime minister). In 1946, there was General MacArthur to remodel Japan, while today President Bush tries to remodel Palestine. Despite official White House rhetoric, it can be assumed that Bush wants to take advantage of Arafat’s towering personality and presence and transform him from an effective leader into a unifying force for his countrymen. Like Hirohito, however, Arafat may retain his role as “symbol” of the state, but will be forced to discard his divine image in favor of that of a peaceful, smiling, grandfather. Like Hirohito, Arafat has denounced the very violence he instigated a few years earlier. If he is sidelined today, Arafat too will have endured longer than most world leaders. And, like Hirohito, Arafat (who has been called the “great survivor,” or the Houdini of the Middle East), having led his people from disaster to disaster, has managed somehow to retain their affection.
Abu Mazen finds himself facing the formidable challenge of trying to measure up to or sideline a leader with historic momentum. No one understands the challenge better, however, than Abu Mazen himself.
Sami Moubayed is a Syrian political analyst.
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