In sign of change, Israeli, Palestinian officers meet

[David]

AP


SALEM CHECKPOINT, Israel - The military men don't look like diplomats and the sun-baked checkpoint dividing the West Bank from Israel couldn't have been farther from the Jerusalem hotels and ministerial residences where Israeli-Palestinian peace talks unfold.

But the fate of those negotiations depend in large measure on the success of meetings like this one around a faux-wood desk in Lt. Col. Fareis Atilaa's utilitarian office. The Associated Press was given rare access to the meeting this week, providing a glimpse of the minutiae and personal dynamics of the new contacts.

Atilaa, a 36-year-old Israeli army officer, heads the military unit that coordinates links between Israel and the Palestinian government and security forces in the West Bank town of Jenin.

A Druse Arab fluent in Hebrew and Arabic, he does his job not with a rifle — his M-16 lay unceremoniously on the floor — but with the two cell phones clipped to his belt and the two land lines next to his computer.

The meeting was conducted in Arabic. The Palestinians were represented by the Jenin commander, Suleiman Amran, who wore a checkered shirt and slacks. He was accompanied by a liaison officer in a smart forest-green uniform.

Sitting opposite them were Atilaa and a high-ranking Israeli officer who cannot be identified because of army regulations. The Palestinians had mustaches, the Israelis were clean-shaven.

These twice-monthly meetings are key to the current U.S.-backed attempt to bolster the authority of President Mahmoud Abbas' moderate government in the West Bank, which remains under the control of the Israeli military.

But despite the contacts, Palestinians contend that Israeli actions on the ground — including military incursions and targeted assassinations — are severely undermining their efforts to establish authority in the West Bank.

What's more, little has changed since peace talks resumed at a U.S.-hosted conference in November to inspire confidence that peace efforts can bear fruit.

Sometimes the tensions are indeed about fruit — literally.

A truckload of watermelons can sit at an Israeli checkpoint for most of a day, a big blow to a farmer who may find himself or his sons drawn into the arms of the militants. But such trucks have been used in violence, including one case in 2001 when a militant tried to blow up a bus with explosives hidden inside watermelons.

Palestinians are discouraged because Israel has failed to lift these roadblocks, which hobble movement and trade, or to stop building on lands the Palestinians claim for a future state. A confiscated tract of land may have been that farmer's watermelon patch, and his sons may be among the thousands of Palestinians who remain in Israeli prisons.

Israel has not forgotten the waves of suicide bombings that came out of Palestinian-controlled towns like Jenin not so long ago. Although the Palestinians have moved against common criminals, Israel believes the Palestinians are not yet able — and possibly not entirely willing — to dismantle the hard-core militant groups that have spoiled peacemaking in the past.

This week's meeting at the Salem checkpoint took place during an important test for the Abbas government: Hundreds of armed security men were brought into Jenin to try to restore law and order to an area long known as a militant hotbed. A similar operation in the unruly city of Nablus restored a measure of security earlier this year.

The last security contacts like these, in the heyday of peacemaking in the 1990s, were successful for a time, progressing with much backslapping and friendly talks over plates of hummus. But they ended in 2000 with the outbreak of violence and the subsequent disintegration of the Palestinian government and its security forces.

In one of the first incidents of violence that year, an Israeli soldier was shot to death by his Palestinian counterpart on a joint security patrol.

But now Israel and Palestinian moderates find themselves facing a common enemy: Hamas, the Islamic group that seized Gaza last June, and its extremist allies. The new security cooperation, like the peace talks themselves, are driven by that shared threat.

The atmosphere at this week's meeting was pleasant, at times jovial. The officers had a good laugh about masked men spotted in the Jenin refugee camp earlier this month — the Palestinians jokingly said they were Israeli undercover troops and the Israelis countered they were local militants. (The Israelis later privately insisted their men had not been in the area.)

But there was no question who was in charge: the Israeli officer, who asked the questions and spoke last.

The Israeli military says it is trying to keep out of the way.

"We told them, we're not only going to stay away from where you're operating — we're not going to be anywhere in the area," Atilaa told the AP before the meeting.

Success depends on Palestinian determination: "If they will it, it is no dream," he said — quoting Theodor Herzl, the Jewish visionary who dreamed up the modern State of Israel.

Amran agreed his troops "face no obstacles from the Israelis," who "try as much as possible to facilitate our movement." But overall control, he made clear, remains in Israel's hands.

In the village of Qabatiyeh, Amran told his Israeli counterparts, there were now 15 officers with four vehicles. Earlier this month, three people were wounded in a clash between his men and local gunmen apparently concerned about interference in the town's lucrative trade in stolen Israeli cars.

Amran said the village was now under control. The Israelis haven't entered Qabatiyeh since the Palestinians went in, Atilaa said.

With a certain measure of pride, Amran informed the Israelis that his men had now begun entering Jenin's notorious refugee camp without backup — demonstrating to what extent the Palestinian authorities lost control in recent years.

Two Islamic Jihad men had just turned themselves in, he said. And that day, 14 stolen Israeli cars were sent back into Israel through the checkpoint.

The Israelis asked Amran to make sure his men always wear uniforms and travel in marked cars to avoid being mistaken for militants. If they enter villages at night, the Israelis want to know, "to avoid friendly fire incidents," the Israeli officer said.

Then came the meeting's only open note of discord. The Israelis asked if more Palestinian forces were due to arrive, and Amran said there was another battalion training in Jordan — but it would only be deployed in Jenin if his men were given more authority.

It was clear the Israelis don't trust them enough to cede responsibility, a fact that was not hidden by the good-natured banter in Atilaa's office.

A name that came up at the meeting gave a telling indication of the situation on the ground. The Israelis mentioned a wanted gunman from Islamic Jihad, Amar Abu Ghaliun, a well-known figure in the Jenin refugee camp. Amran's men had been in the camp and tried to arrest him twice, but he got away.

On Sunday, an Israeli unit went into the camp and caught him. Amran was unhappy about that. "We in the Palestinian Authority are against these incursions and arrests," he said after the meeting.

But in Atilaa's office, the officers didn't let that spoil the atmosphere. They parted with handshakes, and the Palestinians walked past the armed Israeli sentries and passed through the checkpoint back into the West Bank.