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The
Oslo Process: April 2001 Joseph Alpher
The Oslo process has collapsed and the al-Aqsa Intifada continues to rage. Both the PLO and the new Israeli government have thus far offered little by way of either military or political solutions to the impasse. Indeed, the two sides appear to have lost their capacity to communicate in a constructive manner. At such a juncture in the fortunes of the Middle East it is important, indeed imperative, to look back over the past eight years and ask ourselves what flaws in the Oslo process contributed to the current state of affairs.1 Such an inquiry is not merely of historical importance. For if we can identify flaws, we can hopefully learn from them. And while the discussion of possible alternative new tracks for an Israeli-Palestinian settlement is already underway, it could surely benefit significantly from an attempt to apply the lessons learned from Oslo. An inquiry into Oslo is inevitably, at least in some ways, a subjective exercise, influenced by the experiences and political perceptions of the inquirer. This analysis acknowledges the following assumptions and experiences:
An exploration of the flaws of the Oslo process is not meant to denigrate from the historical importance of the Oslo breakthrough and the net gains of the past eight years of the peace process. Today, compared to 1993, the gaps separating Israelis and Palestinians are radically narrowed and the issues far better defined. Indeed Oslo, which reflected considerable personal courage on the part of Israeli and Palestinian leaders, provided the two sides their first opportunity to engage the core issues in depth. Oslo strengthened the centrality of negotiated, land-for-peace settlements between Israel and its neighbors, and specifically legitimized a two state solution between Israel and Palestine. It transformed the psychological environment, initiated a modest process of 'dedemonization' on both sides, and created political-legal norms-in effect, an agreed vocabulary-for discussing Israeli-Palestinian relations. Oslo enabled Israel to negotiate a peace agreement with Jordan and to radically improve relations with a host of additional countries, with positive consequences for Israeli strategic security and for the Israeli economy. Oslo provided the Palestinians with a territorial base, a degree of self rule, and a potentially fruitful relationship with the United States. Some observers would argue that Oslo, like true communism, did not in fact fail because it was never really tried, i.e., the failure was in the execution, not the agreement. Many also contend quite persuasively that the 1993 DOP was 'the best we could do at the time.' Then there is the argument that Oslo actually succeeded, in that it was only designed to lead Israel and the PLO into final status negotiations-not to ensure their success. None of these considerations detracts from the need to examine the flaws in both the agreement and the process as a whole.
Oslo's first and most obvious failure concerns the building of trust and confidence between Israelis and Palestinians. This was a key objective of the introduction of phasing into the process. The interim step-by-step process was supposed to generate trust. Yet arguably, the prolongation of a gradual, step-by-step process in a tense atmosphere has inevitably generated major episodes of violence; gradualism seems merely to extend the vulnerability of the process as a target for the extremists on both sides. In many ways it is the failure of the Oslo interim process (land transfer, cessation of settlement building and state-building for the Palestinians, security for Israel) rather than of the final status phase, that produced the Intifada. All this calls into question the advisability of breaking such a process down into interim phases. When Oslo was born, it was Abba Eban who noted this vulnerability and suggested that it might have been preferable to do the job in 'one fell swoop.' But here we must note that this was precisely what Ehud Barak-himself no adherent of the phasing principle-tried to do during his 19 months in office, with equally unsuccessful results. Moreover, in the Intifada Palestinians are fighting for a number of demands, e.g., removing provocative isolated settlements, that Israel already effectively signaled it would comply with under agreed final status terms. While this does not mean that a phased process could necessarily have been avoided, we nevertheless must conclude that the Oslo interim process failed entirely to create trust and confidence between the parties. An additional assumption of the Oslo interim concept and timetables for autonomy and final status talks is that the Palestinian people and their leadership, the PLO, are-or quickly will become-'ripe' for self-government. While it may seem 'politically incorrect'-in an age that recognizes the universal right to self determination-to question this assumption, it must be acknowledged that historically Palestinians have never been sovereign, and never managed their own affairs. Thus one could argue that the interim process, far from being eliminated, should have been spread over a far longer period of time. Another failed objective of phasing and the generation of trust was to provide an instrument for the economic development of the Palestinian Authority. Fully one-third of the Oslo DOP of September 1993 concerns joint economic development plans that proved abortive. These were based on the concept of economic integration championed by Shimon Peres within the framework of his New Middle East concept, which has itself proven to be radically premature if not totally misplaced. In reality, Palestinians' productivity and standard of living dropped considerably during the Oslo period-by 20% between 1994 and 1999, according to the IMF and World Bank. Reasons for this include corruption, high natural population increase that the PA made no effort to reduce, and Israel's security needs. In this context, it is instructive to note that on the Israeli side, Oslo embodied the problematic combination of two very different fundamental strategic concepts: on the one hand, the security-minded 'separation' espoused by Yitzhak Rabin (and later Ehud Barak), and on the other, Shimon Peres' 'integration' with its economic emphasis (the 'New Middle East'). Over time the concepts have proven to be incompatible and at times even contradictory (e.g., when Israel responded to Palestinian suicide bombings by invoking closures and other security restrictions, with devastating economic effect on the Palestinians), to the detriment of Israel's overall policy for administering Oslo. A second structural flaw in the Oslo DOP is its determination that final status negotiations, regarding a specified list of topics, would "lead to the implementation of Security Council Resolutions 242 and 338". Resolution 242 as a formula for peace is interpreted very differently by Israelis and Arabs. The framers of Oslo were undoubtedly aware of the two sides' contradictory interpretations, but nevertheless determined in advance that the basis for final status talks would be disputed from the outset. Presumably they reasoned that time, and the confidence-building process which never took off, would render the contradictions more amenable by the time final status talks arrived. This did not happen. Israel came to the table to negotiate final status believing it was entering into an additional process of mutual compromise on all fronts. It held fast to the 'territories' (as opposed to 'the territories') language of the English original of 242, along with its mention of 'secure borders': Israel understood these phrases to mean that it did not necessarily have to evacuate all the territories occupied in 1967. Moreover, it argued that 242 did not apply to the West Bank, Gaza and East Jerusalem in the way it had applied to Israel's international borders with Egypt (back to the '67 lines) and Jordan (one-on-one territorial swaps) and would presumably apply to the border with Syria ('67 lines). After all, Israel claimed, the Palestinian territories had not constituted a sovereign state, or the Green Line an international border, prior to 1967. The PLO, for its part, cited both the language of 242 that it preferred (evacuation of 'the territories', meaning all the territories, in the Russian and Arabic versions) and the precedents of Israel's previous peace negotiations, to back up its demand that negotiations center on the 1967 border. Moreover, the PLO came to the final status negotiating table with a well developed narrative that placed it essentially only on the potential receiving end of concessions regarding territory. According to this concept, the Palestinian people made a single huge concession when it agreed to a two-state solution based on the existence of Israel within 77% of Mandatory Palestine (the 1967 boundaries). While minor symmetrical territorial adjustments were possible, the basic Palestinian demand for the remaining 23% was non-negotiable. This fundamental contradiction between the two sides' core approaches regarding territory has not been resolved to this day. Certainly Oslo provided no mechanism for a preliminary discussion of the applicability of 242. Moving from the DOP to the peace dynamic it generated, the Oslo process also reflected a failure of leadership on both sides. Israeli and Palestinian leaders alike found it expedient to ignore, and at times even encourage, activities by their extremist opposition that were explicitly or implicitly prohibited by Oslo-all in the interest of conciliating the opposition and buying political time, even as these same opposition elements became yet more extreme. Thus prime ministers Rabin, Peres, Netanyahu and Barak all, to one extent or another, allowed settlement building to proceed, avoided carrying out interim further redeployments and opening safe passages between the West Bank and Gaza Strip, and refused to release prisoners-all in contradiction to the spirit and/or the letter of Oslo, even as Arab and American policymakers pointed out the devastating effect this was having on the Palestinian commitment to the process. Note, for example, the clash between Rabin's open antagonism toward the settlers ("propellors," "political settlements") and his reaction to the Baruch Goldstein massacre in Hebron in February 1994: after a single settler murdered 30 Palestinians as they prayed, and the Israel Defense Forces, in suppressing the ensuing riots, then killed some 20 more, Rabin imposed a heavy closure regime on the city's battered Palestinian population and refused to remove the provocative and extremist Jewish settlers. Some Palestinians cite this as a major turning point in their attitude toward Oslo. Arafat, for his part, never collected arms from the public as directed by Oslo, never seriously suppressed the Islamic opposition, and never came to terms with the demand to cease anti-Israeli incitement. At key junctures in the process, when he apparently assessed that he had exhausted his reserve of diplomatic options, he violated his commitment (embodied in his letter to Israeli PM Rabin of Sept. 9, 1993 that accompanied the Oslo DOP) to refrain from "terrorism and other acts of violence."2 Nor did he ever display public empathy for Israel's concern with personal security. Basically, he never educated his people for peace. Apropos settlements, the 1993 DOP specifies that their fate is a final status issue, to be negotiated between the two sides. The PLO, which sees settlements as a colonialist statement of Israeli aggression, understood this and additional references to territorial issues in the DOP to mean that settlements would not be expanded in any way in the interim. But successive Israeli governments insisted that Oslo did not prohibit 'natural growth' to satisfy settler needs. Interpreted liberally-and in many cases cynically-this position brought about an increase in the settler population from 120,000 in 1992 to around 200,000 by 2001. A portion of the new settlers live in new 'neighborhoods' and 'outposts' that are really new settlements in all but name. The Oslo language on settlements is yet another example of the dangerous ambiguities that were tolerated in the DOP in the interest of reaching a deal that advanced the process. The leadership failures climaxed in the year 2000. Ehud Barak demonstrated a painful lack of personal political skills that prevented him from building a direct relationship with Arafat (or, for that matter, with most of his own coalition). As for the PLO leader, not only Israel and the US but many in the Arab world too recognize his key mistake. In the words of commentator Fahd al-Fanek (generally a tough Arab critic of Israel), "the Palestinian side made a mistake when it allowed a unique opportunity . . . to slip by . . . at Camp David and Taba. . . . The previous century has witnessed a number of opportunities that were rejected by the leadership of the Palestinian people, only for them to come back later and make the same demands accepting what they had previously rejected."3 The consequences of these failures of leadership-particularly those regarding Israeli settlement-building and Palestinian incitement, hoarding of arms and failure to ready the public for a compromise peace-were abundantly evident in the outbreak of the al-Aqsa Intifada that marked the termination of the Oslo process. Thus far this assessment of the failings of Oslo has focused on flaws shared, or mistakes committed, by both Israelis and Palestinians. Additional flaws were specific to each of the parties. A succession of Israeli governments, for example, failed to factor in the ramifications of Oslo for the Israeli Arab community. On the one hand Israel insisted, and the PLO accepted, that the status of Israel's million strong Palestinian Arab community was an internal issue that should in no way be a subject for negotiation. But on the other, Israel ignored the radicalizing effect on its Arab citizens-in particular, a sharp rise in socioeconomic expectations and increasing demands for greater autonomy and even for Israel to cease to be a 'Jewish state'-of the anticipated 'end of conflict' agreement and emergence of an independent Palestinian state. The consequences were evident in the violent Israeli Arab participation in the early stages of the al-Aqsa Intifada in October 2000, which was also nurtured by a parallel growth in Arab Islamic extremism in Israel. The PLO, for its part, and Arafat specifically, continued to exhibit a reliance on the use of violence-specifically prohibited by Oslo-that ultimately helped destroy the process. It also emerged that the PLO leadership brought with it from the Diaspora elements of a systemic corruption that eventually threatened to alienate it from its own constituency in the West Bank and Gaza. Many Palestinians cite Palestinian Authority corruption as a key domestic cause of the Intifada, and explain that in some ways the uprising is directed as much against the PA leadership as against Israeli occupation. At the strategic level, each side based its acceptance of Oslo on a set of assumptions that proved to be largely unfounded. The Israeli signers of the Oslo DOP held the false expectation that Israel was exchanging land for strict Palestinian enforcement of security for Israelis; and that settlement expansion during the interim period would be tolerated by Palestinians. The Palestinian leadership and public believed mistakenly that Israel's signature meant it was prepared to acquiesce in Palestinian core positions regarding sovereign statehood, Jerusalem and refugees. Perhaps the ultimate case study in mutual misperceptions emerging from the Oslo process is Jerusalem: at Camp David it emerged that neither side really understood the religious-national significance of the city to the other. From here to the ill-fated Sharon visit to the Temple Mount on September 28, 2000 that catalyzed the Intifada, we can trace a direct line of misunderstanding and suspicion. Finally, there is the American element. Throughout the process Washington-the principal international guarantor of the Oslo agreement-was aware of the destructive effect of both parties' non-compliance with Oslo obligations, yet failed to demand their compliance effectively. Toward the end of the process, during the Netanyahu and Barak premierships, the US became overinvolved, moving from a facilitator mode to the role of active mediator and even arbiter. Initially, under Netanyahu, this had the understandable goal of simply keeping the process alive. Ultimately, under Barak, the frenetic pressures of his and Clinton's 'lame duck' timetables of the last months distorted the capacity of Israel and the PLO to reach and keep agreements, and led to a strong devaluation of American political capital in the Middle East. The eventual 'hands off' reaction of the Bush administration-which at least initially disassociated itself from the Oslo process-was, under these circumstances, inevitable.
When Israel's Uri Savir and the PLO's Ahmed Qrai (Abu Alaa) began their Oslo dialogue in the spring of 1993, they resolved to discuss only the future-not the past. To do otherwise, they reasoned, would doom the process to failure. They may have been right, in the sense that their approach enabled the two sides to create a pragmatic formula for temporary coexistence that advanced the cause of Middle East peace. But by postponing discussion of the contradictions between the most fundamental Israeli and Palestinian narratives, they also allowed the Israeli-Palestinian dynamic to be invaded by a virus that has now paralyzed it. Stated plainly, Oslo has failed to resolve these contradictions. When the process ended in late January 2001 at Taba, Palestinians were still insisting that Israel admit the 'original sin' of its very existence, blame itself officially for causing the Palestinian refugee problem, accept a principle of 'return' that implies (to Israelis) that Israel should not be a Jewish state, and absolve the PLO of the need for additional compromises. They also denied any Israeli/Jewish spiritual or national link to the Temple Mount. These demands, coupled with growing Israeli Arab calls for 'deZionizing' Israel and with the violence of the Intifada, left the Israeli public thoroughly traumatized. That same public still supports the original substance of the process, as well as Barak's far-reaching formulation for a two-state solution, but only on condition that it enshrine Israel's legitimacy as a Zionist Jewish state with deep historic and religious links to Jerusalem and the Temple Mount, and be based on a spirit of mutual compromise. If Oslo proved unable to resolve-or, alternatively, bypass or even postpone-these near primordial contradictions, perhaps there are alternatives that can. The following brief survey assesses alternative peace process concepts. The author himself does not necessarily endorse or advocate any particular option; rather, they are cited here because they have recently appeared, or are judged likely to appear, on the Israeli national agenda. Nor are all necessarily mutually exclusive; some could coexist or coincide.
This paper has briefly examined Oslo's flaws and the lessons and alternatives that they suggest at this critical juncture. Its conclusions point to the need for policymakers, as well as academic and other interested circles, to expand their search for a renewed peace process. In this regard, creative thinking regarding new ways to advance an Israeli-Palestinian settlement could focus on a variety of interim, partial, unilateral and confederal solutions, and could revisit 242 and other traditional underpinnings of the process. FOOTNOTES
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