Monday, March 11, 2013

Dealing With Crap Meant For Others! A Thorny Issue?




This is our first  birthday gift to Dagny  We hope it will encourage her love of art.

This is by a Georgia primitive artist who lives in Madison.



This youngster may not be able to have art because his president has perfected the art of spending his family's earnings.

The cynical shutting down of the government and the call to federal agencies to do what is most visible is further evidence of why Obama is a rotten leader.

"A pen in the hand of Obama is far more dangerous than a gun in the hands of 300 million law-abiding citizens."
---
Israel has to protect U.N. forces that are there to protect Israel!  What blatant nonsense!

Will al Qaeda, which Obama claimed were on the run, greet him when he arrives in Israel? (See 1 below.)

Last time we were in Israel on our own, we traveled to The Golan and then went into Syria to chat with the U.N. guard. It was a Kafkaesque experience.
---
Will Obama engage in pushing the reset button with Netanyahu?

The speech Netanyahu gave to the conferees was, as I noted earlier, conciliatory.  The question remains  is whether Obama is capable of rising to the occasion?

This president is now having to deal with a lot of crap that he put on his own plate but was meant for others. (See 2 below.)
---
Is Ryan about to have lunch in the rose bushes again?  It is a thorny question.  (See 3 below.)
---
Long article but interesting.  Did Abbas inadvertently give  away one of the sticking points - the Palestinian demand regarding right of return?  (See 4 below.)
---
Dick
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
1)Hundreds of UN Syrian Golan UN observers scramble to safety in Israel

The flight of hundreds of UN Disengagement and Observers Force (UNDOF) soldiers - Indian, Austrian and Filipino - in trucks and APCs from the Syrian side of Golan into Israel was in full swing early Monday, Mar.11.  They told Israeli officers manning the Israeli side of the enclave that their commanders urged them to get out when they could because “We can no longer vouch for your safety.”

Many more UN troops are expected to make their way during the day to refuge in IDF camps across the border. Their officers, they said, had already placed their belongings aboard waiting vehicles ready to move across as soon as they received permission from their governments in Vienna, New Delhi and Manila or the UN Secretariat in New York.
Military sources report this mass exit signals the breakup of the 1,000-strong UNDOF which for 39 years manned the 8 sq. km separation zone between Syria and Israel. It was set up in 1974 to end the war of attrition fought  in the sequel to the Yom Kippur War between the IDF and Cuban armored brigades flown in from Angola by the Soviet Union to support the Syrian army.
The UN force’s collapse began with the Croatian government’s recall of its 100 troops last week.
As the peacemakers flee, Russia is today hardly likely to interfere with who gets to control the Golan separation zone which was split between Syria and Israel.

Three potential candidates are eyeing the sliver of land for different reasons:

1. The Martyrs of Yarmuk Islamist militia force of the Syrian rebel movement, which staked its claim last week by kidnapping 21 blue-and-white helmeted Filipino observers on the Golan and later releasing them in Jordan.

It is feared in Washington, Jerusalem and Amman, that Al Qaeda-associated forces will waste no time in overrunning the highly strategic patch of Golan borderland, armed with chemical weapons and even Scud D missiles captured from Syrian army bases. They may even be plotting an attack during President Barack Obama’s visits to Jerusalem and Amman, starting March 20.

Military sources report that in sync with the UN observers’ escape, Israeli military reinforcements are massing on the Golan Syrian border.
2.  US, Jordan and/or Israel may step in to keep the Islamists out, using either large special forces units for ground raids or a swarm of armed drones.
3.  Hizballah militia units were spotted Sunday night on the move from south Lebanon toward the Lebanese-Syrian border areas abutting on the Golan separation zone.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
2) Obama looks to reset relations with Benjamin Netanyahu in trip to Israel
By Lesley Clark

Or will it just be more of he same when he arrives later this month?

President Barack Obama's coming trip to Israel will focus as much on looking to restart a frosty relationship with Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu as on any other issue.
Though Obama once considered peace between the Israelis and Palestinians a priority, little was accomplished in his first term. Peace talks stalled in 2010. And analysts say there are few expectations that Obama will deliver a new plan for resolving the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, which has bedeviled U.S. presidents for decades, when he arrives in Jerusalem, reportedly on March 20.
Instead, Obama's first visit as president most likely is aimed at establishing trust with Netanyahu and an Israeli public that's viewed Obama warily, and at a moment when talks with Iran over its nuclear program are entering a tenuous stage and fear is rising that violence in Syria might further destabilize the region.
"What they're looking for is a sense of 'He gets it. He understands the Israeli security position,' " said Jonathan Rynhold, an Israel studies expert from Bar-Ilan University in Israel who's teaching at George Washington University. "The more that Israel feels that America is behind them on that, the more support from the public there is, and it makes it easier for the prime minister to make concessions on the peace process."


The trip comes as both leaders start new terms. Netanyahu is still trying to put together a coalition government, but the White House brushed aside questions of delaying the visit in response and said it was on course with planning it.
The visit to one of the closest U.S. allies offers a chance for Obama to improve U.S.-Israeli ties, as well as counter domestic critics. Republicans have long criticized the president for not visiting Israel in his first term and have underscored his strained relations with Netanyahu. The prime minister made no secret before the U.S. election that he'd prefer to deal with Mitt Romney, a longtime friend, as U.S. president.
"If anything, they're trying to salvage the hope of a peace process," said Michael Singh, a former director for Middle East affairs at the National Security Council under President George W. Bush who's now with the Washington Institute for Near East Policy, a research center. "One of the things that caused the process to regress has been the disconnect between the U.S. and Israel, and we're still sort of living with the lingering effects."
Netanyahu took pains this week to address the optics of the relationship, telling the American Israel Public Affairs Committee that Obama's visit gives him the opportunity to extend "appreciation for what he has done for Israel."
Divisions remain between the two, sharpened since Obama's tough early stance in his first term against Israel's building of Jewish settlements in the predominantly Palestinian West Bank, which the president will visit after meeting with Netanyahu. Some analysts expect Obama to privately press Netanyahu on concessions to the Palestinians and for patience with talks with Iran.
Netanyahu has pressed the president for a more muscular response in Iran and Syria. Obama won't rule out military action to prevent Iran from securing a nuclear weapon but he thinks there's still time for economic sanctions and diplomacy to convince Tehran to back down.
"Words alone will not stop Iran," Netanyahu said, addressing the AIPAC conference via satellite. "Sanctions alone will not stop Iran. Sanctions must be coupled with a clear and credible military threat if diplomacy and sanctions fail."
"Netanyahu is trying to trap him into a commitment to intervene on Netanyahu's terms, and the president of the United States doesn't want to be told by the prime minister when to intervene," said Daniel Serwer, senior research professor of conflict management at the School of Advanced International Studies at Johns Hopkins University and former director of the Iraq Study Group, convened by Congress to examine the country's postwar needs.
Obama told nearly two dozen Jewish American leaders Thursday that he won't be going to Israel with a "grand peace plan," though he didn't rule out a new effort at some point.
He made it clear that he doesn't believe in "extra chest beating" when it comes to Iran and he's convinced there's still time for diplomacy, Israeli news outlets reported on the White House meeting.
The president told the group that the trip "is not dedicated to resolving a specific policy issue, but is rather an opportunity to consult with the Israeli government about a broad range of issues," including Iran, Syria and peace with the Palestinians, a White House official said, speaking only on the condition of anonymity as a matter of administration policy. Obama also underscored that the trip is an opportunity for him to speak directly to Israelis, the official said.
Regarding Syria, the U.S. has warned President Bashar Assad that it views the use of chemical weapons against the rebels who are trying to overthrow him as a "red line" for possible military intervention. The administration has declined to send weapons or any lethal aid to the rebels, instead delivering food and medicine.
Israel's threshold for taking action — as illustrated earlier this year with an airstrike on Syria — appears to be lower, and aimed at a wider variety of possible threats.
Syria is awash in arms, and Netanyahu warned that its stash of chemical and anti-aircraft weapons could fall into the hands of terrorist groups such as Hezbollah and al-Qaida as the regime collapses. The emphasis on Iran and Syria reflects Netanyahu's contention that Israel can't pursue peace talks with the Palestinians without addressing the risks posed by its neighbors. Obama is expected to meet with Palestinian Authority President Mahmoud Abbas in the occupied West Bank, but analysts note that Palestinians are deflated by the prospect of peace negotiations being downplayed.
Palestinian "leadership has higher expectations. They really have no choice but to cling to some hope Obama can deliver. But on the street I don't think anyone expects anything," said Khaled Elgindy, a former adviser to Palestinian peace negotiators who's a fellow at the Brookings Institution, a research center in Washington. "As long as there isn't an open front in the Arab-Israeli conflict, it just seems like it's something that can wait. The moment isn't now."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
3)The Insiders: Paul Ryan is young enough to make the same mistake twice
Ed Rogers says that Rep. Paul Ryan is the man to watch. He is a good one to watch, all right, but not because he will be successful. Rather, he should be studied for a lesson in how the GOP isn’t learning its lessons properly.
President Obama chose Ryan of all House members last week to have lunch with. I think the president admires Ryan’s seriousness of purpose. I think he sees some of himself in him for the lack of self-consciousness, the willingness to take a stand among elders in the party and the determination to have an impact on policy.
But it is also clear that Obama is just reeling Ryan in for the game. By paying so much attention to Ryan, we are once again reminded of just how miserably unpopular the policies of this budget chairman are with the American people and how soundly they have been rejected. NowRyan is renewing his push — not with a changed perspective based on six months of criss-crossing the country — but with the same policies that have already been rejected by the voters.

The economy is moving again. The Dow is showing record growth and CEO pay is at an all-time high. The private sector is hiring at a more clipped pace than it has in six years. Interest rates remain low and capital investment is increasing. In fact the only drag on unemployment figures are the continuing losses of public sector jobs, important middle class jobs such as teachers and park rangers and postal workers.
So where will the budget committee chairman’s new/old proposal slash the most spending and hurt the most people? Whether it is proposals to deprive hard-working, taxpaying Americans of their retirement benefits, cuts in education assistance, child care health-care services or eliminating banking regulations that protect poor consumers, the Ryan budget is a literal assault on the middle class. The very poor fare even worse as the budget reducesMedicaid and food stamps.
Oh, and the most salient point? The congressman does all this slashing and burning of the poor and middle class while offering the wealthy another tax cut.
Yes, this is the strategy that failed Mitt Romney and Ryan in November. 2012 voters rejected the policies that divide the rich against the poor and balance the federal budget on the backs of those most vulnerable. It would be easy to gloat and predict that repeating the same mistakes will result in similarly unsuccessful electoral outcomes. But if there is a chance that Ryan is successful this time, the benefit of politics is nowhere near worth the price to the poor it will cost.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
4)The End of the Two-State Solution

Why the window is closing on Middle-East peace

One Friday evening last November, Mahmoud Abbas made a rare appearance on the popular Israeli TV station, Channel 2. In his boxy suit and tie, the Palestinian 
president looked every bit his 77 years, his olive skin tinged with gray, his voic
e soft and whispery. He shifted in his seat with every answer. But when the interviewer, Udi
 Segal, asked him about his vision for the future of his people, Abbas offered a reminder of why
 this man was once, and perhaps remains, the great hope of the two-state solution.
“Palestine for me is ’67 borders with East Jerusalem as its capital,” he said. “This is now
 and forever.” Abbas had been born in the town of Safed, which his family fled during Israel’s
 War of Independence in 1948 and which is now a part of Israel. Segal asked, did he wish to
 visit? Abbas raised his eyebrows. “I want to see Safed,” he replied quietly. “It’s my right to 
see it, but not to live there.”
Every Israeli viewer would have immediately grasped the significance of that statement. For
 years, one of the top obstacles to a peace deal has been the “right of return”—the 
Palestinian demand that some five million refugees and descendants be allowed to go back to
 their former homes. In Israel, whose population of eight million already includes 1.5 million
 Arab citizens, the phrase signals nothing less than the demographic destruction of the Jewish
 state. Among Palestinians, the right of return is sacrosanct. And yet, here was Abbas waving
 away the idea altogether. With Israeli elections only a couple of months away, it seemed that the Palestinian president had just eliminated one of the longest-standing impediments to a peace deal.
In Israel, left-of-center politicians like former Prime Minister Ehud Olmert and President 
Shimon Peres praised Abbas’s remarks. But in the West Bank and Gaza, the interview 
caused mayhem. Hamas leaders called Abbas a traitor; some in his own Fatah Party 
attacked his judgment. In Gaza, Hamas supporters burned photos of the president and marched
 with banners that read, “Pioneer of concessions: it’s time to quit.” By Sunday, Abbas had
 walked back the refugee comment, saying he was only speaking for himself. Right-wing
 Israelis pounced, calling Abbas two-faced, and within days, the election returned to its fixation
 with the onerous cost of living.
The Abbas interview could be seen as confirmation that, with the right ascendant in Israeli 
politics and Hamas firmly entrenched in Gaza, peace is a very remote prospect. But looked at another way, his remarks were a sign that the peace process lingers in a phase that is not 
altogether hopeless.
Until the late ’80s, the Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO) was dedicated to Israel’s 
destruction. Until 2000, no Israeli prime minister, including those on the left, would 
consider withdrawing to the country’s pre-1967 borders, let alone dividing Jerusalem. But 
over the course of a generation, a unique confluence of circumstances gave rise to the 
flawed, torturous, obstacle-ridden soap opera we know as the peace process. Over the 
decades, participants on both sides have edged closer, in a series of breakthroughs and 
setbacks and near-misses, to the dream of a two-state solution.
Today, the essential conditions for a peace process remain. Majorities of Israelis and 
Palestinians continue to support a two-state solution. It remains possible to draw a border
 that would give the Palestinians the territorial equivalent of the entire West Bank, while 
allowing Israel to incorporate the vast majority of its settlers. So far, the number of settlers 
living in communities that would need to be evacuated has not passed the point of
 irreversibility. Jerusalem is still dividable. Hamas is confined to its Gaza fortress. And 
Abbas, a Palestinian leader like no other before and perhaps no other to come, remains in office. By the end of Barack Obama’s presidency, however, every one of these circumstances could 
vanish—and if that happens, the two-state solution will vanish along with them.
In December 2012, a month before the Israeli election, two of the country’s top 
pollsters surveyed popular opinion on the peace process. The polls produced 
near-identical results that, on their face, made no sense at all. On Election Day, Likud and
 other right-wing parties kept their Knesset majority, following a campaign in which 
Benjamin Netanyahu vowed that he would not evacuate any settlements. But in the survey, 
two-thirds of Israelis said they would support a peace deal creating a Palestinian state the size 
of the West Bank and Gaza, with a capital in East Jerusalem. The proposal was supported 
across the political spectrum—including by majorities of voters for Netanyahu’s Likud, the 
more hard-line Jewish Home Party, and the ultraorthodox Shas.
The great paradox of the current moment in Israeli politics is that, even as the right has 
consolidated its power, the people have drifted to the left when it comes to the concessions
 they would make for peace. For decades after the Six-Day War, the contours of Israeli politics
 were relatively simple. Right-wing leaders believed Israel should settle the West Bank and
 Gaza. Left-wing leaders acquiesced to some settlement activity, but argued that Israel should 
trade the territories for peace. After the Camp David summit failed in 2000 and the second 
intifada began, the right gained the upper hand. As suicide bombings forced cafés and restaurants all over the country to install armed guards and metal detectors, Israelis turned to Ariel Sharon, a hard-line former general and patron saint of the settlement movement. Sharon launched a series of bruising military operations that, over the course of three years, returned Israel to normalcy.
But as prime minister, Sharon underwent an unexpected transformation. Suddenly, he 
began referring to the “occupation”—a right-wing taboo—and came out for a Palestinian state. He enraged many settlers by building a barrier along the West Bank that ultimately left more 
than 90 percent of the occupied territory on the other side. In 2004, he declared that Israel 
would unilaterally evacuate all 17 settlements (and all military forces) from Gaza, as well as 
four more in the West Bank. And before suffering a stroke in 2005, he intended to do more. 
“I had a conversation with Sharon on his farm that he wanted to keep going after Gaza,” 
then–Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice told me. Ehud Olmert, his deputy prime minister at
that time, confirmed that Sharon had had further West Bank withdrawals in mind: 
“There’s no question,” he told me.1
Sharon had not turned leftist overnight: “Sharon did not really believe that a real 
comprehensive peace agreement with the Palestinians was possible,” his national security 
adviser, Giora Eiland, said. But he had also decided that the status quo was untenable. 
Every terrorist attack reminded him of the costs of ruling over a hostile population—a 
population that was growing faster than the Jewish one. Elliott Abrams, the former George 
W. Bush administration official, recalled that Sharon’s political adviser, Dov Weisglass, was
 fond of remarking: “[H]e needs to explain the withdrawal from Gaza in a language that you 
do not speak: Likudish. And in that language, you have to say, ... ‘We’re not doing this for the Palestinians, we’re not doing this with them. We’re doing it as part of our general hatred of them.’”

By selling the policies of the left in the language of the right, Sharon managed to bring a good
 chunk of the public, including many rightists, along with him. The words “Palestinian state”—
used in the 1970s and 1980s only by the far left and rejected in the 1990s by even Yitzhak Rabin 
and Shimon Peres—went mainstream.
Meanwhile, the security establishment, which for decades saw a Palestinian state as a mortal 
threat, arrived at the same conclusion. Or, as former military intelligence chief Amos Yadlin put 
it to me, “Having a border is the best security arrangement.” Settling the conflict, the logic 
went, would give Israel greater international legitimacy to fight terrorism and enable it to deal with the more serious emerging threat from Iran.

Significantly, Yadlin favored making the necessary compromises for a deal while still
 maintaining there was no trustworthy partner on the Palestinian side. I asked him what the
 results would be if he and other current and former heads of major security agencies were
 polled on the peace 
question. Yadlin answered that, as long as there were adequate security provisions in place—
such as a demilitarized Palestinian state, early-warning stations, Israeli control of the West Bank’s air 
space and electro-magnetic spectrum, and an effective international force in the Jordan Valley
—his colleagues would support an agreement in “the same proportion” as the rest of the
 population:
 that is, by a solid majority. “Maybe more,” he said, “because they have served in the territories
 and they understand the fact that, if you want a Jewish and democratic state, you should not 
control 2.5 million Palestinians.”2
Most Israelis have come to a similarly conflicted conclusion, convinced that their country 
cannot indefinitely occupy the West Bank and just as convinced that a peace deal is impossible.
 The calm of the past seven years has afforded the country the luxury of not having to resolve the contradiction. The January election was the first since the Six-Day War that wasn’t consumed by the Palestinian question. Netanyahu, obsessed with Iran, ignored it. The Labor Party, Israel’s 
traditional peace vanguard, focused on the economy: One of the few times its leader, 
Shelly Yachimovich, addressed the conflict was to note its impact on Israel’s credit rating.
And so, for as long as the security situation remains stable—hardly a given considering the
 growing boldness of protesters in the West Bank and the increasing range of rockets fired
 from Gaza—Israel has arrived at a strange moment of opportunity. Beneath the apathy and
 the rising enthusiasm for the right lies a latent but very real desire for peace, waiting to be 
mobilized. In fact, what many Palestinians don’t understand is that Israelis will never be more 
open to a peace agreement than they are now. But what many Israelis don’t understand is that 
they will never have a better partner than Mahmoud Abbas.
Among the billboards that have sprouted in downtown Ramallah, advertising
 BlackBerrys and high-rise apartment buildings, are many featuring the two men
 who have defined Palestinian politics for the past 50 years: Yasir Arafat and Mahmoud
 Abbas, commonly known as Abu Mazen. One banner on the side of the Muqata, the 
Palestinian presidential compound, shows Arafat in military fatigues and Abbas in suit and tie.
 That Arafat the guerrilla was succeeded by Abbas the technocrat was a remarkable 
historical accident, one that is unlikely to be repeated.
In 1961, Arafat asked Abbas, then a civil servant in his mid-twenties working in Qatar, to join a
 new Palestinian political movement, Fatah, which would become part of the PLO. Back then,
 the West Bank and Gaza were still controlled by Jordan and Egypt, respectively, and Fatah 
was committed to liberating the rest of “historic Palestine” by force.
But Abbas was “not a man of armed struggle,” says Nabil Shaath, an early Fatah colleague. 
Bookish and introspective, he undertook what he later described as a “programme of reading
 and research into the intricacies and hidden aspects of Israeli society.” 3 In the ’70s, Abbas
 urged the PLO to start talking to the Israelis. “I was keen to meet any Israelis willing to meet
 me,” he wrote in his memoir of the peace process,Through Secret Channels. His efforts were
 met with ridicule. “I suffered much criticism from the people closest to me in Fatah,” he
 continued. “They were often sarcastic, asking, ‘Can you change Israeli society through
 these simpletons you are meeting?’” Several PLO activists involved in these early dialogues
 were assassinated.
Over time, however, the PLO came to realize that it could not defeat its enemy, and in 1988, it resignedly recognized Israel. This epiphany paved the way for the secret talks that led to the
 Oslo Accords in 1993. Abbas, who led the Palestinian negotiating team, quickly became 
Israel’s favorite peace partner.4 “[He] was seen as the one who—unlike Arafat—was
 genuinely committed to resolving the conflict,” says Dennis Ross, then Bill Clinton’s chief
 Middle East envoy.
But it was Arafat who continued to define Palestinian politics. He had formally renounced
 terrorism in 1988, but could never truly bring himself to abandon armed struggle. He 
condemned suicide bombers in English and praised them as martyrs in Arabic. According
 to a recent French TV interview with his widow, he even planned the second intifada. 
Records confiscated from his compound show that he sent funds to the Fatah-linked Al 
Aqsa Martyrs’ Brigades, which carried out attacks in Israel. Hamas co-founder Mahmoud Zahar
 has said that Arafat encouraged his militant group to launch its own.
In private, Abbas warned that militarizing the intifada would set the Palestinian cause back by decades. “He understood that the balance of power is in favor of Israel militarily, and the more we militarize our struggle, the more Israel will use excessive force against us—and the more they
 will feel justified,” says the PLO’s chief representative to Washington, Maen Rashid Areikat, 
who was Abbas’s deputy at the time.
In the end, Abbas was vindicated. The intifada would cost the Palestinians more than 4,000 lives
 and valuable international support. In April 2002, following a string of suicide bombings, 
Israel invaded and destroyed much of the Muqata. Cornered, Arafat accepted a U.S. plan to
 appoint a prime minister and chose his longtime deputy, Abbas. At a summit in Jordan convened
 by President George W. Bush in 2003, Abbas appeared alongside Sharon and called
 terrorism “inconsistent with our religious and moral traditions.” This was a dramatic break
 with the Palestinian public, which supported suicide attacks by large majorities.
When Arafat died, in late 2004, Abbas was elected with 63 percent of the vote on a 
platform of nonviolence and ending the conflict through negotiations. It was a hopeful moment,
 but fleeting. In the 2006 legislative elections, looking to bolster his legitimacy, Abbas 
allowed Hamas to run. He hadn’t anticipated that Hamas would capture 74 of the 132
 parliamentary seats. “I was shocked because all the intelligence was telling us that Fatah was 
going to pull it out,” Rice said. “I think Hamas was shocked.” After a short-lived unity 
government with Fatah, Hamas forces seized the Gaza Strip. Abbas retaliated by dismissing the Hamas prime minister and appointing a technocratic government led by Salam Fayyad, 
another Western-backed moderate, for the West Bank. Abbas and Fayyad cracked down on
 Hamas and launched reforms to prepare Palestinians for statehood.
The schism between Hamas and Fatah opened up a window for negotiations with Sharon’s 
centrist successor, Olmert. The Abbas-Olmert talks, 36 meetings in all, were perhaps the closest the two sides have ever come to an agreement. In September 2008, the two men met in Olmert’s 
study, where the Israeli leader showed Abbas a map of a Palestinian state comprising the 
territorial equivalent of 100 percent of the West Bank and Gaza, with its capital in East
 Jerusalem. “He looked at it and he said, ‘This is quite serious. I have to admit, this is
 very serious,’” Olmert recalled. Then Abbas said he would have to think about it. Olmert 
told me that he retorted: “Don’t think about it. Sign it now. I want to tell you one thing: In the 
next fifty years, there will be no prime minister in Israel who will propose to you something 
similar to this.”
Over the course of their talks, the two men agreed to divide Jerusalem largely along ethnic 
lines. Abbas accepted in principle Olmert’s plan to place the most sensitive part of the capital,
 the Holy Basin, under the control of a five-nation consortium. The pair also sought to
 identify a mutually agreeable set of land swaps, in which Israel would annex certain settlements
 and give the Palestinians equivalent chunks of land in exchange.

When it came to the right of return, according to Olmert, Abbas said, “I can tell you one thing:
 We are not aspiring to change the nature of your country.” 5 Olmert proposed a “symbolic” 
number of refugees: 5,000 allowed into Israel over the course of five years, while 
offering compensation and resettlement for the rest. (“I would’ve compromised a little,” he told 
me.) 6 According to highly knowledgeable sources, Abbas signaled to Rice that he might 
accept something between 40,000 and 60,000.7“Our reading was that there was a deal to be done on [the refugee issue],” Stephen Hadley, Bush’s national security adviser, told me. Although
 differences remained on all the key issues, the gaps seemed surmountable.
But Abbas didn’t sign. His refusal to do so has become twinned in the Israeli public imagination
 with Arafat’s outright rejection of Ehud Barak’s offer at Camp David. But according to
 senior Israeli, Palestinian, and American officials involved, the reason was more complex.
 Abbas feared that Olmert, who had announced that he planned to resign in order to fight 
corruption allegations, wouldn’t be able to deliver on his promises. Aides to then–Foreign 
Minister Tzipi Livni, who had been nominated to replace Olmert as head of the Kadima Party 
before the upcoming elections, had sent messages telling Abbas not to sign. “The message
 was, ‘Wait for me,’” Abrams recalled. “Now, I think it was a historic mistake for him not to
 have signed, but it’s not crazy for him not to have signed.”
According to Hadley, President Bush met Livni on the sidelines of the U.N. General Assembly in 2008. At that point, Hadley said, Bush had concluded that an agreement between Olmert and 
Abbas was impossible, and he urged Livni to strike a deal with Abbas and run on it in the 
campaign: “The argument [was] the same for both sides: It’s, ‘Tzipi, you’ll never get to the right of Netanyahu, so you might as well run to his left with something to run on.’ And to Abbas, 
it’s: ‘Look, Hamas is gonna to kill you. You can’t be tougher on this process than Hamas, so 
you ought to do what actually the Palestinian people want you to do, which is to reach an 
agreement, and you each ought to run on that agreement, and if you do and show leadership
 and boldness, you’ll win.’” (Livni, however, was reluctant to make commitments on sensitive 
issues like Jerusalem before the election.)
Since Benjamin Netanyahu’s election in 2009, Abbas has refused to enter negotiations 
without a settlement freeze and other preconditions. “Abu Mazen was convinced that there 
was no deal with Bibi, and if he went into negotiations and there was no deal, it would hurt
 him,” said Ross, who later served as Obama’s chief Middle East envoy. Instead, he has
 sought recognition of Palestinian statehood from the United Nations. But that move, 
according to Palestinian insiders, has always been aimed at compelling Netanyahu to 
pick up negotiations where they left off under Olmert.
In January, Hamas and Fatah renewed long-stalled negotiations on a reconciliation pact that
 would pave the way for new elections. Abbas has said that he will not run again, and 
many observers doubt he’ll last that long. He is a prostate cancer survivor and a heavy smoker; in 2010, according to a report in Al-Quds Al-Arabi, he was admitted six times over the course of a 
few weeks to a Jordanian hospital for an unspecified illness. There is no one in Fatah 
ready to assume his singular stature in the peace process. Abbas has not only failed to 
groom a successor, he has at times actively undermined potential heirs.
Abbas must sometimes wonder what his long career as a peacemaker has yielded. A
December poll showed Palestinians preferred Hamas’s approach to ending the Israeli occupation over that of Abbas by a two-to-one margin. As he exits, so will an entire generation of Palestinian leaders who grew up alongside Jews, fought them for decades, and then made a strategic decision to work for rapprochement. “We’re not sustainable anymore,” Saeb Erekat, the chief Palestinian negotiator, told me. Not just unsustainable, but unlikely ever to be replicated: “This is your dream leadership of Mahmoud Abbas and Salam Fayyad,” he said. “This is a dream team! Do you think Palestinians will agree to another leadership like this in the next six hundred years?”
Any serious discussion of the two-state solution inevitably leads to someone pulling out a map. Recently, I met with Shaul Arieli, a former Israeli negotiator involved in nongovernmental efforts to devise borders that could win the approval of both sides. What this entails, cartographically speaking, is figuring out how to draw around the settlements.
During the 2008 talks, Olmert proposed that Israel annex the equivalent of 6.3 percent of the West Bank and Gaza and compensate the Palestinians with a corresponding 5.8 percent of land from Israel, plus a corridor linking the two territories. (Olmert indicated to me he would have brought the Israeli total down to 5.8 percent if necessary.) The Palestinians, meanwhile, suggested a 1.9 percent land swap. This gap should be bridgeable, at least in theory: “The 1.9 percent is not Koranic or Biblical, and the 6.3 percent ... is not Talmudic,” Erekat told me. “So what’s between?” However, Olmert’s offer would require Israel to evacuate 70,000 Israeli settlers, while the Palestinian proposal would mean the evacuation of some 160,000 people.
Five large settlements have come to be “red lines” for both sides: Maale Adumim, Har Homa, Givat Zeev, Efrat, and Ariel.8 Red lines, of course, have a way of moving during negotiations. Arieli showed me a map, which, he said coyly, had come from “the Palestinian side.” It was identical to the Palestinian Authority’s known position with one surprising exception: Givat Zeev was now on Israel’s side of the border. According to Arieli, Abbas and other Palestinian leaders wouldn’t “hold up a deal” for any of the five settlements except for Ariel. “For Ariel, yes,” he said. Olmert told me he believed he could’ve gotten Abbas to accept the annexation of Ariel only with great difficulty: “You ask me whether I could feel that, in the end, the still-main point of controversy would remain Ariel. The answer is yes, not the other places.”
To understand why, all you need to do is make the drive to Ariel. The other four settlements in question are relatively close to the Green Line—Israel’s de-facto border before the Six-Day War. Ariel is nearly halfway into the West Bank, and to annex it, Israel would also have to keep a long finger of territory that would bisect a large chunk of the northern West Bank. But any visitor to Ariel can see why the Israelis are unwilling to let it go. It is the third-largest settlement, with a population of about 20,000—most of them secular Israelis who moved there for the cheaper housing. It has a university of 13,000 students and a 500-seat performing arts center.
Even if a solution could be found for Ariel, Israel would still have to contend with the people on the other side of the line. Under any reasonable land swap plan, around 120,000 people would need to be evacuated, mostly religious Israelis who believe themselves to be fulfilling the work of God. The task won’t get any easier with time. Last year, the settler population grew at more than double the average rate of the rest of the country. In 2005, it took 14,000 soldiers and police officers to evacuate the last 4,000 settlers from Gaza.
The two sides would also have to create a viable Palestinian capital in East Jerusalem; no Palestinian leader could accept less. Since 1967, Israel has built twelve neighborhoods that turned East Jerusalem into a messy collage of Jewish and Arab enclaves. In 2000, President Clinton suggested a simple formula—Jewish neighborhoods remain Israeli; Arab neighborhood become Palestinian—that has formed the basis of all serious discussions of the city’s future ever since.
Dan Rothem, an Israeli map expert, has illustrated how Israel could actually create a functioning border using a combination of natural and manmade barriers. As settlers increase their presence in predominantly Arab neighborhoods, that solution is becoming obsolete. Tractors are at work on Givat Hamatos, a Jewish neighborhood that would sever Beit Safafa, one of the largest Arab enclaves, from the rest of Arab East Jerusalem. Givat Hamatos, Rothem said, “drives a dagger” into the possibility of drawing a border through Jerusalem. (The only remaining option, to make Jerusalem an open city, would be a security nightmare.) The plan to place the Old City under a five-nation consortium, agreed upon in principle by Abbas and Olmert, is similarly at risk, as Israel continues to encircle the area with settler outposts and national parks.
And then there is E1—administrative shorthand for a stretch of land between Jerusalem and the settlement suburb of Maale Adumim that successive Israeli prime ministers have tried to settle. Netanyahu approved planning and zoning for E1 last fall but backed down under international pressure. E1 is the last open patch of land adjacent to Arab East Jerusalem. If inhabited, it would effectively suffocate the Palestinian capital from future growth. Like Givat Hamatos, it would create a fact on the ground that future Israeli prime ministers would find nearly impossible to relinquish and that future Palestinian leaders would find nearly impossible to accept. “There are already enough Palestinians who are saying that it’s too late already—that these settlements have done enough damage to prevent a viable, contiguous Palestinian state,” longtime Palestinian Authority (P.A.) spokeswoman Hanan Ashrawi told me. “I’m getting to the borderline, to the edge of saying it’s no longer possible.” Ahmed Qurei, who led the Palestinian negotiating team in 2008, recently argued that Palestinians should consider abandoning the two-state solution and instead push for a single state that combines the West Bank, Gaza, and Israel. Such a state would have an Arab majority by around 2020.9
On the day that I visited Ariel, Naftali Bennett, the leader of the pro-settler Jewish Home Party, was in town. It was three weeks before the election, and around the time of his visit, polls were suggesting that Jewish Home could overtake the Labor Party as Israel’s second-largest political force. Students crowded the auditorium at the university to hear him speak.
Bald and clean-shaven, the sleeves of his pink button-down rolled up Obama-style, Bennett
took a swipe at Netanyahu for endorsing the two-state solution and imposing a settlement 
freeze. “The Likud went against our values,” he said. “I think that anyone who wanders in this
 city, in this university, sees that Judea and Samaria and the land of Israel will remain in the 
hands of the state of Israel.” This line got a loud cheer. 
Five days later, I interviewed Bennett at Hebrew University, another campus where his 
youth following was in attendance. “If the elections were done among people between eighteen
 and thirty-five, we’d be the biggest party in Israel,” he boasted. One reason Bennett is so 
popular with Israeli youth is that they are, on average, more hard-line than older generations on the Palestinian question. This is in part a matter of demography: Right-wing religious Israelis have 
higher birthrates than their secular counterparts; decades of immigration from the Arab world and the former Soviet Union have diluted the influence of traditionally left-wing European Jews. 
But it reflects a generational shift, too. Raised in the age of suicide bombings, younger Israelis 
have had little contact with Palestinians; their parents’ dream of a “New Middle East” 
doesn’t resonate. During the campaign, Bennett drew even the condemnation of Likud when he declared that, as an Israeli Defense Forces reservist, he would refuse orders to evacuate 
settlements. But 48 percent of Israeli high schoolers in a 2010 poll said they would do the same.
Bennett has a simple solution for the mapmakers. Israel, he contends, should annex an 
area comprising 60 percent of the West Bank that includes all settlements and few Palestinians. 
The remaining scattered patches of land could remain under Palestinian autonomy. Such a
 policy would slam the door on Palestinian independence and almost certainly set in motion
 the fall of Abbas, if not the entire P.A. Bennett did not seem troubled by this prospect.
“I don’t desire Abu Mazen to fall,” he said. “My point is that it’s sort of being used now as a
 stick against us. ‘Ooh, if you don’t give up the heart of your land, there’ll be a vacuum there.’ 
So I just don’t buy that claim. There’s always a new excuse why Israel has to give up the
 big mountain that controls and dominates Israel called Judea and Samaria, aka ‘the West Bank.’ It used to be we were promised peace. No one buys that. It used to be we were promised security.
 No one buys that. It used to be we were promised international support. No one buys that. So the new claim in town is, ‘If you don’t do it, he’s gonna go.’ So if he goes, he goes. Someone else
 will replace him. The graveyards are filled with people who had no replacement.”
In November, following escalating attacks on Israeli cities, Netanyahu launched an
 eight-day offensive in Gaza that began with the killing of Hamas’s top 
military commander and ended with the destruction of most of its long-range missile arsenal. 
Three weeks later, I went to Gaza, where green flags were everywhere and the mood was 
strangely triumphant. A local perfume shop was offering a buy-two-get-one-free sale on 
M75, a fragrance named after the missile Hamas launched against Tel Aviv.
For now, the schism between the West Bank and Gaza means that Abbas is free to negotiate a 
peace agreement without input from Hamas. But if there is a single consensus in Palestinian
 politics today, it is on the need for a unity government—an arrangement that would give Hamas a 
de facto veto over any deal. If Abbas retires, or dies in office, the constitution stipulates that the speaker of parliament (currently a Hamas member) would become president and elections would
 be held within 60 days. During my visit, a poll showed Hamas Prime Minister Ismail 
Haniyeh winning a hypothetical contest with Abbas.
Some have argued that a unity government might advance the peace process. As 
now–Defense Secretary Chuck Hagel said in a 2009 address to the pro-peace Israel lobby 
J Street, “No peace will be possible nor sustainable as long as the Palestinians remain a 
house divided.” The idea is based on the increasingly widespread notion that there are 
moderates in Hamas who secretly are ready for peace with Israel. In Gaza, I went looking for 
them.
One was Ahmed Yousef, a former adviser to Haniyeh who runs a think tank called the 
“House of Wisdom.” By the standards of Hamas leaders, most of whom have never lived 
outside Gaza, Yousef is cosmopolitan: He spent nearly two decades in the United States. We 
sat in his darkened office—the Hamas government rations the electricity that Israel provides 
free of charge—and in perfect English, Yousef walked me through an elegant solution to the 
conflict he’d devised after spending some time in Switzerland. In this Swiss model, Jews and 
Arabs would live with equal rights in a loose federation. “We’ve lived together for 
centuries,” Yousef told me. “There’s no reason we can’t do it again.”
Once we got into the details, however, it wasn’t clear there would be many Jews living in
 this Switzerland. “I don’t understand how in the world people can accept that every Jew around
 the world who are coming from Russia or America or Europe has the right to go back to 
Palestine, when they’ve never been there, and the Palestinian who has been in Palestine, and
 [was] kicked out, doesn’t have the right to go back,” Yousef said. I responded that the 
world believed the Jews needed somewhere to go after the Holocaust. “Go to Germany,” he 
replied curtly. “All the Jews of Europe should go back to their countries. Jews of the Arab
 world should go back to their towns and cities in the Arab world. We are ready to help them 
even, to prepare ships.”
Many Hamas officials have called for an independent Palestinian state to be established 
according to Israel’s pre-1967 borders. But this proposal is seen as an interim step, not a 
means to bring the conflict to an end. When I met with Fawzi Barhoum, one of Hamas’s 
top spokesmen, at his office in a gray slab building in Gaza City, he would not use the 
word “Israel,” but referred only to “the occupation.” If “the occupation” were to agree on a Palestinian state within pre-1967 lines, along with the right of return for all Palestinian refugees, he told me, “we will give them a long period of a truce—fifteen, twenty years.” His office 
décor provided a less-than-subtle clue of what he hoped would come next. On one wall 
was a panorama of the skyline of West Jerusalem, the part of the city internationally recognized 
to be Israeli territory. Next to the bathroom was a map of historic Palestine, which encompassed the West Bank, Gaza—and all of Israel.
Deputy Foreign Minister Ghazi Hamad is another reputed moderate. Like most Hamas officials,
 he wears a suit, sports a well-kept beard, and has a bump on his forehead of the sort pious 
Muslims get from kneeling to the ground five times a day. When Hamad called for the 1967 
version of a Palestinian state in 2011, NPR reported that he had endorsed the two-state 
solution, although he didn’t use those words in the interview. I was curious to know whether he’d be content with the 1967 borders. “Yes, I want this,” he answered. I asked if that was all he wanted, to which he would only reply, “Look, you are talking about the unseen future.”
“I think it’s very difficult to talk about coexistence between the Palestinians and the Israelis after sixty-three years of hatred, confrontation, of bloodshed, massacres. It’s a black history,” 
Hamad told me. “For me, I don’t expect that there will be peace between us and the Israelis.” 
But, I asked, did he want peace? Hamad did not consider the question for very long. “No.”
If the two-state solution dies, Israel will only be left with ugly options. It could ride
 out the status quo as the world continues to turn against it. It could unilaterally 
create a Palestinian state by withdrawing to the line of the barrier, incurring most of the costs 
of a two-state solution with few of the benefits. It could annex the West Bank and give all Palestinians citizenship, making Israel a binational state. Or it could annex the entire West 
Bank without giving Palestinians citizenship, embracing apartheid.
Netanyahu is putting the finishing touches on a wide governing coalition, likely to include Bennett on the right and Livni on the left, and what he will do remains a mystery. Based on his 
historical aversion to the peace process, many believe he’ll opt for the status quo. 
Erekat, the Palestinian negotiator, predicted that Netanyahu would embark on unilateral 
withdrawal before the end of his term. (“He’s not stupid,” Erekat said.) Others think he may do more. “I’m convinced that, if the circumstances are right, he will go much farther than people 
think,” Dennis Ross told me. “Abu Mazen told me he thought there was no way Bibi could
 do a deal. I said, ‘How do you know? You haven’t tested him.’”
But one thing is clear: No Israeli would be better positioned to sell and implement a deal than 
Bibi. Ami Ayalon, a former chief of Shin Bet and a leading peace activist, told me Netanyahu
 needs to envision his grandson 40 years from now reading a newspaper about the three great
 Zionist leaders: Theodor Herzl, who dreamt the state; David Ben Gurion, who built it; and
 Benjamin Netanyahu, who secured its future as a Jewish democracy.
On my way back from Gaza, I entered Israel through Erez crossing and walked up a dusty
 path leading to the highway, hoping to hitchhike to the nearest bus stop. A navy blue station
 wagon pulled over. The driver turned out to be a 48-year-old Israeli peace activist named 
Naomi who lived in a nearby kibbutz that had been badly hit by rocket fire. She told me that
 her organization, “Other Voice,” was planning an event the following week and invited me to
 come along.
The event took place in an auditorium that had been decorated with a large banner with the
 words, “HELLO GAZA, ISRAEL SPEAKING,” written in misspelled Arabic
 script. Representatives of various left-wing parties implored the attendees to keep the dream of peace alive; a folk singer performed the popular ’80s Israeli peace ballad “Salaam.”
As the evening wore on, I began to notice something about the gathering: Nearly everyone
 present was more than 40 years old. Looking around for someone younger, I found one 
woman who appeared to be in her twenties. “At the demonstrations, you do see some of the
 new blood,” she told me. “But things like this—sitting and talking—it’s the people who don’t
 have the energy to fight anymore.” Before the end of the night, I ran into Naomi and sh
e welcomed me with a huge smile and introduced me to her children, a 13-year-old boy and a 
ten-year-old girl. “My children think I’m crazy,” she confided. “They don’t understand why I 
want to help people who are shooting at us.”
Ben Birnbaum is a writer based in Jerusalem.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

No comments: