16/11/01
What
the Peace Process Has
Come To
Wherever
in the world Arafat is, you can be sure,
Peres
is a step behind.
Shimon Peres awoke, rubbed his eyes,
and -- dammit, his slippers had walked off
again. He grumbled aloud. "Where in
the world --?"
His wife was on the phone. "Yes,
dear, I know, we're looking everywhere."
"Why can't everything be just
where I want them?"
"This may surprise you, but
when you're asleep, the Earth revolves.
Everything moves without your permission."
Peres rolled his eyes. "But
where --"
"In Tajikistan, it seems. We're
waiting for confirmation."
"My slippers are in Tajikistan?!"
"No, silly, Arafat's in Tajikistan.
Now hurry up, you have a lot of planes to
catch."
"I think I'm getting cold feet."
This is what the peace process has
come to:
Each morning, Arafat, getting a head
start (he doesn't have to shave, or polish
his hair), takes the first plane out, it
doesn't matter where. On this particular
day it is Tajikistan, but only because he
was expected in Cameroon.
Peres then has to guess which of the 200-or-so
countries Arafat will turn up in, and go
running after him. Steeped in Middle Eastern
logic (and Israeli politics; it's the same
thing), Peres is quick to deduce where Arafat
isn't, based on where he didn't say he wouldn't
go to, and therefore probably is -- which
is precisely where he wouldn't be, because
Arafat knows the Israelis would be quick
to figure it out.
Peres has no time to lose. He must
meet Arafat. They must arrange the day's
cease-fire. They must shake hands and smile.
Peres must show the world that the Palestinians
truly, truly want peace. This is very, very
important, for diplomats and journalists,
because otherwise, how would they know that
Israel is to blame?
Along the way, Peres will pause now
and then to deliver a pithy aphorism. Often,
it is about eggs or the automotive industry,
but always, the analogy is clearly the peace
process. (When he specifically mentions
"the peace process" he is often
referring to something else entirely, such
as eggs, or Shas.)
Before Peres arrives, Arafat has
the media to himself. Rather than wait,
he gets things started, explaining that
the Israelis are Nazis and terrorists and
apartheidists and genocidists and how can
we civilized people hope for world peace
when the Jews are assassinating Palestinian
babies and flying planes into American buildings?,
but then Peres arrives, and he has to shut
up and smile and shake hands.
The peace process used to be thought
of in terms of a permanent, everlasting
eternity, but (and this is why it is called
a "process") then they started
discussing taking it in stages of a couple
of years at a time, then they thought maybe
they could achieve relative calm for a month,
and then a reduction in violence for a week,
until by now, the peace process is thought
of in terms of a temporary cease-fire, more
or less, for a couple of hours in the middle
of the night in certain parts of the country.
(It turns out, there was more hope in that
everlasting eternity.)
It is for those precious couple of
hours that Peres goes chasing after Arafat,
but it's worth it, because in the end, each
day, they come to a triumphant (often called
"historic") agreement that there
will be absolutely no more firing, by Israel.
Anyway, that's the background.
This particular morning, Peres's
slippers were, in fact, in Latvia (he had
spent the previous night there on his way
to Arafat in Italy), and by coincidence,
so was Arafat. Peres, craftily outthinking
him, was on his way to meeting him in Cameroon.
Taking a quick look at the morning
headlines -- they're all the same, every
day, in every newspaper: "Peres seeks
meeting with Arafat" -- Peres got dressed
and went to seek a meeting with Arafat.
He was full of hope and faith and
optimism.
Shmulik, his driver, knew the way
to the airport. He took the long route,
to avoid the majority of terrorists stationed
on the roadsides. Peres didn't even know
there were any.
The foreign minister was deep in
thought, as he always was when creating
pithy aphorisms on the way to seeking a
meeting with Arafat. Presently, he lit up.
"Shmulik! How about this one: 'From
an egg you can make an omlet, but from an
omlet you cannot make an egg.' Good, no?"
"Very good, Mr. Peres. But I
think you've used it too often already."
"But not in Cameroon."
"No sir."
"OK, so I'll change it a little:
'A chicken can cross the street to lay on
an egg, but --' no, no; 'If a rooster pecks
his neighbor all day, the chicken won't
get laid.' Nu? Isn't that the peace process
in a nutshell?"
"Very good, Mr. Peres. But maybe
that should be 'the egg won't get
laid.' "
"Here's one I've been working
on: 'If cats could talk, boy, would they
be boring.' "
"Very good, Mr. Peres. But I
don't get it."
"Never mind. This one even an
idiot will understand: 'If there is any
hope of making peace in this millennium,
there's only 364,558 days left, so we better
get moving.' "
"Very good, Mr. Peres. It could
be the Quote of the Week."
"Yeah, at least in Cameroon.
Gee, I hope the media's there."
"If Arafat's there, they will
be."
Nobody was. In one of those double-triple
twists of logic for which the Middle East
is famous, Arafat hijacked his own plane
to a destination unknown even to him, which
would definitely throw his despised antagonist
hopelessly off his trail.
Peres got there first.
Peres got there first and he
was already with the media! What a disaster!
Arafat would have to scrap his Jewish-Nazis
speech, for which he was famous, and worse,
it would look to the whole world like
he was seeking a meeting with Peres.
What kind of a peace process was this?!
"... And as I have always said,"
Peres was saying into the microphones (and
not for the first time), "I will go
to the ends of the Earth to seek a meeting
with Arafat, in search of a just and comprehensive
temporary cease-fire for a couple of hours
in the middle of the night in certain parts
of the country. That is why I have come
here, to the Galapagos Islands. Yes, a large
turtle on a small island must get its feet
wet, eventually. The same could be said
for the Middle East peace process."
Applause rang out, just as Arafat
arrived, huffing and puffing.
They shook hands.
And smiled.
And then Peres asked Arafat if he
would agree to an Israeli cease-fire, and
Arafat hemmed and hawed but finally agreed.
The local people were thrilled that
a triumphant (and historic) agreement in
the pursuit of world peace (even if only
for a couple of hours, etc.) was consummated
right here, under their flag.
The two worldly statesmen shook hands
again, and smiled, and then somebody suggested
that, this being the Galapagos, they pose
for the cameras doing what all visitors
do: ride on the back of a gigantic tortoise.
Which they did.
Proving Peres wrong.
Because the big turtle plodded off
into the sunset, this Arab and that Jew
together on its back, and it did not get
its feet wet, because it went around in
circles, mindlessly, stupidly, aimlessly.
The same could be said (proving Peres
right, after all) for the Middle East peace
process.