From Challenge # 67
EditorialThe Intifada and May DayOn its surface the Intifada looks like a national or even an ethnic conflict. The toll of blood rises daily. The Palestinian Media Center puts the number of Palestinian dead at 456 and the number of wounded at 15,000. On the Israeli end, according to B'tselem, 86 have been killed. Each death whips up desire for revenge. The political rhetoric grows hotter. Israel has backed away from all its commitments under Oslo; the most its government is willing to envision is a long-term interim agreement. The rift seems beyond repair. And yet - is this the whole picture?Not exactly. For in the midst of the smoke and blood, we find an anomaly. The Palestinian leaders are in contact with their Israeli counterparts over the question whether to re-open the grand casino in Jericho known as the "Oasis". The initiative comes from the PA (Palestinian Authority). Its representatives have turned to Foreign Minister Shimon Peres with a request that his government permit Israelis to frequent the casino again. For in the heady pre-Intifada times, this institution was a gold mine for the Palestinian economy. On an average day, 3000 Israelis used to show up, leaving behind a cool $710,000 (Ha'aretz April 25). Since the uprising, however, Israel has forbidden its citizens to enter Area A, which includes Jericho, and as a result, the temple of Mammon has closed. Figures for the first two months of the Intifada show that the casino's owners lost $25 million, half of which would have gone to the PA. Jibril Rajoub alone, head of Arafat's Preventive Security - who took responsibility for the safety of the worshippers - lost $167,000 in protection gelt. The first contacts toward re-starting the casino date back to January, even before the Israeli elections. In Vienna, Oasis part-owner Martin Schlaf met with Muhammad Rashid, Arafat's economic adviser, and Omri Sharon, son and delegate of the leading Israeli candidate. The contacts have continued since. Is this not strange? Even as funerals multiply, the PA and Israel seek
to re-establish a single Oasis of peace, where itchy fingers reach not
for the trigger but the dice. For the casino is no isolated fact. It belongs
in a context - indeed, it carries its context with it. A vice which Israel
does not allow within the purity of its confines is shunted off to the
third-world neighbor, as the old song has it: "South of the border, down
Mexico way…" The casino has epitomized, ever since its founding three years
ago, the skewed relationship between Israel and the PA entity. Here the
meaning of Oslo comes to sublime expression. The Palestinians are supposed
to rest satisfied with the crumbs that fall from Israel's table - they
will perform its menial labor, adjust their economy to its needs, serve
as a bridge to the Arab world - so that Israel can take its place, unhindered
by local squabbles, in the vanguard of the global economy.
A semblance of peace, however, seemed attainable, given the desperate
situation of the PLO after the Gulf War of 1991. Oslo was designed to co-opt
the Palestinian bourgeoisie, and it succeeded. That is why we find this
same bourgeoisie, in the midst of the bloodshed, dickering to open the
casino! The Intifada was never their heart's desire. They would like to
subdue it. Viewed from the vast empty halls of the Oasis, matters like
the settlements, Jerusalem and the refugees look tiny indeed.
Behind Israel's Oslo, then, lies the spirit of globalization. The Intifada
may seem to be a national, even ethnic conflict - and no doubt national
and ethnic feelings ride high - but basically, it is a local response to
the very issue that brought millions to the streets this May Day.
Yet, though it bumped Oslo off, the Intifada hasn't killed the giant.
The tale of the casino shows that the big globalizers and their local minions
persist in their agenda. Martin Schlaf of Vienna, Muhammad Rashid of Gaza
and Omri Sharon of Israel all share the same interests.
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