Israel’s latest plan for cracking down on suicide attacks managed the seemingly impossible: it lined up the whole international community, from the Arab League to the United States, against Israel and its policy of exiling the families of Palestinian militants. For several weeks the Israeli security cabinet and the army had been secretly discussing ways to deter suicide bombers. The proposals included trying to block the transfer of money from Arab states to the bombers’ families and arresting Palestinian clerics who support attacks against Israel. The hard-liners in both the cabinet and the military, however, were seeking harsher and more direct retaliation against the families, including deporting them abroad, possibly to Jordan, and extending the military practice of demolishing their homes. Some officers argued that this was the only way to make Palestinians think twice before enlisting on suicide missions.
Eva Rimsten, a 34-year-old Swedish lawyer, arrived at Israel’s Ben Gurion International Airport near Tel Aviv on an early morning flight on 24 June. She had with her a letter from one of the leading humanitarian organisations in Gaza, the Palestinian Centre for Human Rights, explaining that she was a volunteer specialising in children’s rights. The centre’s legal investigations of human rights violations committed by both Israel and the Palestinian Authority have earned it an international reputation. But Rimsten never made it to Gaza. In fact she never made it beyond passport control. Asked the purpose of her stay, she showed officials the letter.
Two years ago, before the outbreak of the Intifada, several thousand wealthy customers, mainly Israelis, gathered each weekend to play the tables of the Oasis casino in Jericho. More than a thousand Palestinians staffed the bars and roulette wheels, and hundreds more pampered the guests staying in the 181 luxurious rooms of the attached Inter-Continental hotel. Today the casino is dark and locked, and two security guards prevent anyone approaching. The price of a room at the hotel has been slashed in an attempt to entice foreign visitors, the only people still allowed unfettered access to the oldest city in the world. But the guests, invariably diplomats, rarely outnumber the eight staff who keep the place ticking over until better times return.
It was a far shorter visit than I intended. Within 55 minutes of entering Jenin, my meeting at the Al-Razi hospital was cut short and I was joining everyone else in an unexpected and tank- enforced “rush hour” to get home. Minutes earlier, a doctor had burst into the consulting room of pediatrician Dr Ali Jabareen to tell us that the curfew, which had been lifted by the army till 6pm, was being reimposed with immediate effect. I looked at my watch: it was 1.08pm. The streets that moments earlier were busy with shoppers, were emptying. Stores clattered down their shopfront grills and house doors were hurriedly locked. Road junctions grew noisily congested as drivers battled against the traffic to leave the town centre.
It was presumably not what US President George W Bush had in mind last week when he proclaimed in his Middle East speech that a new Palestinian leadership must emerge before talks could begin on the shape of an interim Palestinian state. Hossam Nazzal, a 41-year-old political unknown, faxed a letter to the Palestinian Authority on Monday declaring his candidacy against Yasser Arafat for the presidential elections due next January. Nazzal, a psychiatrist from the West Bank town of Jenin, has been living in France for the past 16 years. His name will be added to a very short list: so far the only other contender is Abdel-Sattar Qassem, a 54-year- old dissident academic from Al-Najah University in Nablus.