Thirty years as a revolutionary failed to wear down Yasser Arafat. One year as a pothole fixer has left him exhausted. While a leader in exile, the chairman of the Palestine Liberation Organization maintained an air of triumph through highs and lows, flashing photographers a victory sign and a grin even in his most desperate moments. But now that Arafat is principally a governor and not a fighter, the effervescence has disappeared. On a recent evening, two senior aides found him so troubled by his burdens that he pleaded that they sit with him into the night. They stayed until 2:30 in the morning. "He's a very sad person these days," says an aide who meets Arafat weekly. "He conveys a sense of helplessness and becomes angry more quickly than before. He's becoming an old man fast."
That may sound like a strange observation at a time when Arafat looks poised to win an expansion of his authority. For the past year the Palestinians have enjoyed limited self-rule in the Gaza Strip and the West Bank city of Jericho. Now negotiators are scrambling to meet this week's deadline for an accord that would detail a timetable for Palestinian elections as well as a redeployment of the Israeli army in the West Bank. The original deadline for the new agreement was July 1, but that slipped to July 25 and may slip again. The killing last week of two Israeli hikers in the West Bank, presumably by Palestinian terrorists -- the first such murders in three months -- does not seem to have stymied the talks, however, and the two sides appear to be close to a deal.
Symbolically and economically, the West Bank is much more important to the Palestinians -- and the Israelis -- than is the Gaza Strip. Given the approach of this new phase of Palestinian self-determination, and given the wobbly but undeniable progress toward a secure peace that the Palestinians and Israelis have made since they signed the Oslo Accords in 1993, it might be expected that Arafat would display some joy and satisfaction these days. But he appears more fatigued than exhilarated, more fatalistic than hopeful. And the same can be said for his people.
To understand why that is so, and to get a sense of what the near future holds for the West Bank, one need only look at the experience of Palestinian self-rule so far. When Arafat entered the Gaza Strip, he and his aides raised expectations to an absurd height. The initial euphoria was sure to ebb, but Gazans could reasonably have hoped for competence and fairness, pride in their new government and a sense of momentum toward statehood. Instead they have seen organizational anarchy, corruption and autocracy. Meanwhile, the realization is sinking in that the Israelis will exercise some control over their lives for the foreseeable future. As they watch their cheap flags fly in faded tatters, many Palestinians would echo the words of one of Arafat's aides: "We have an emotional catastrophe here. So many of us went to jail, lost friends to the battle with Israel. We ask ourselves, If we are not truly building a decent state, why did we go to jail for this damn cause?"