(4 of 4)
Rabin's change of heart was motivated mainly by simple pragmatism. Military rule over the territories would mean endless war, while annexing them wholesale would dilute forever the ethnic character of the Jewish state; a negotiated peace was the only solution. Hard-edged realism was not his only motivation for adopting this approach, however. He also suggested that he preferred it because it was more in keeping with his sense of humanity. In his inaugural speech to the Knesset in July 1992, he argued that it was antithetical to the democratic traditions of the Jews to subjugate another people. Moreover, he took the unusual step, at least by Israeli standards, of addressing the Palestinians directly, talking to them as human beings. "We have been fated to live together on the same patch of land," he said. "We lead our lives with you, beside you and against you." He was also characteristically blunt about what each side could expect to achieve. "You will not get everything you want," he told them. "Neither will we."
Once in office, Rabin set out to transform his rhetoric into reality, taking his election as a mandate to begin to forge a peace settlement. Secret talks between the two sides took place in Norway in early 1993, and after they achieved a breakthrough, Rabin wrote a note to Yasser Arafat informing him that Israel was prepared to recognize the P.L.O. and begin openly negotiating with it. The talks culminated in the historic signing of a peace accord on the South Lawn of the White House on Sept. 13, 1993.
Of all the moments of Israeli drama in which he took part, this, perhaps, is the one for which Rabin will be best remembered. As he stepped onto the lawn, he was clearly wrestling with the fact that by events of his own making, he was now being asked to shake the hand of Yasser Arafat, a man Israelis had reviled for decades for his role in planning, financing or inspiring hundreds of attacks on Jewish men, women and children. But despite the setting and the players and the audience (the world), perhaps what was most remarkable about the occasion was the expression on Rabin's face.
He grimaced, he swallowed, he hesitated--and then, glumly, reluctantly, he took Arafat by the hand. Here he was making history, yet he could not simply play the euphoric part that the TV cameras were assigning him. He was, it seemed, performing a difficult but necessary chore. Typically, he made no effort to make his feelings appear anything other than the conflicted jumble they undoubtedly were. "Of all the hands in the world, it was not the hand I wanted or even dreamed of touching," he said, attesting to the fact that to achieve peace, one must sometimes swallow hard. There was no pretense, no subterfuge, no attempt to convey any false emotion. It was, in short, a perfect expression of dugri, and it seems fitting that, as both a momentous event for Israel and a demonstration of the awkward, rough-hewn nobility that distinguished Rabin's life, it was the gesture that will also mark his place in history.
--Reported by Lisa Beyer, Johanna McGeary and Robert Slater/Jerusalem