Countdown to an Assassination

[bluesoul]

Countdown to an Assassination

Three Days as a Living Shield
By URI AVNERY

The most dramatic moment arrived in the evening after Yom Kippur.

We were sitting in the courtyard of Arafat's Mukat'ah (compound); a group of Israeli peace activists and Palestinian friends, senior Palestinian Authority officials. A pleasant mild wind was blowing after a hot day. We were chatting about the situation (what else?) and the latest gossip about the Palestinian leadership. From time to time a senior Palestinian joined us, before going up to see the President, or coming back from him.

The tall figure of Jibril Rajoub emerged from between the sand sacks that defend the entrance of the building. He had seen Arafat and joined our group for a few minutes. "We have heard that the Israeli cabinet is about to meet," he announced darkly.

We all understood the meaning of that. A meeting of the cabinet--what could that mean? What if not an attack on the Mukata'ah?

Rajoub entered his black car and sped off on his business. We exchanged some words about the possibility of an attack--and then, suddenly, all the lights in the compound went off. A dead silence ensued. From afar we heard the approaching drone of an airplane.

Nobody said anything. In the brain a thought was passing: "So that's it!"

And then the light went on, as suddenly as they had gone turned off. The plane in the air passed us and flew on in the direction of Amman. We continued to talk as if nothing had happened.

Earlier on that day, the atmosphere had become tense for a different reason. At noon, one of the volunteers came back to the compound and recounted that, while he was sitting in a coffee shop, shouts were heard: "The Israelis are coming!" The owner of the shop urged his guests to run away, even without paying. Soon after, two army jeeps appeared. From afar, the sirens of ambulances could be heard. The two jeeps went on to the narrow street in front of the Muhata'ah, where they went back and forth. Inside, the rumor spread quickly. It looked like a reconnaissance patrol before the attack. The jeeps went off to Ramallah's central square. The children of the neighborhood threw stones at them. I matter of routine. Calm returned.

The moment we heard about the shocking atrocity in Haifa, on Saturday afternoon, we understood that we had to hurry to the Mukata'ah. Within an hour, a small group of ten Israeli peace-activists was organized. Somehow we succeeded in entering Ramallah, which was surrounded and cut off by the Israeli army. With us were also some 30 international peace activists from many countries.

If we had more time, the group might have been larger. But it was the Jewish holiday season, many of potential participants were abroad, others could not join on such short notice. But for us, time was of the essence.

It was clear that Ariel Sharon would try to exploit the outrage of the Jihad, in which whole families were killed, in order to realize his dream of many years: to kill Yasser Arafat. That was so obvious that a question arose automatically: Was this, perhaps, the real aim of the initiators to start with?

The suicide bomber was a young female lawyer, who wanted to take personal revenge: both her brother and her fiance were killed by the Israeli army. In the Palestinian territories there are now thousands of such people, men and women, and each of them a ticking bomb. They do not need any political reason. An Israeli who orders the killing of Palestinians, men, women and children, must know that this may well be the result.

--snip--

http://www.counterpunch.org/avnery10152003.html

[DuctapeFatwa]

1. The Church's policy of beatifying only Catholics is unfair

and should be changed.