Palestinian Campaign The Prisoner vs. the Patient
The end of the Palestinian presidential campaign of candidate Mustafa Barghouti couldn't have been more dramatic. On Friday, just as he was about to enter the old city of Jerusalem, he was temporarily detained by three Israeli plainclothes police officers. At least one accusation that had dogged Barghouti and made headlines in recent days was thus set aside. It had been said, contrary to his own campaign claims, that Barghouti had never been arrested by the Israelis. Today, on the final day of the campaign before Sunday's vote, the doctor and reformer could finally lay claim to what in the Palestinian Authority is necessary evidence of one's esprit de résistance.
Barghouti's lawyers had still not had a chance to speak to their client by early afternoon according to his campaign team. Israeli officials, however, later announced the reason for the arrest: Barghouti, the candidate of the reform-oriented "Mubadara" Movement, broke campaign rules set out by Israel by intending to give a campaign speech on the grounds of the Al-Aqsa Mosque, Islam's third holiest site located on Temple Mount in Jerusalem.
Just 15 kilometers away in Ramallah, the unofficial Palestinian capital, Barghouti's arrest went virtually unnoticed. Here, all eyes were on Fatah Movement head Mahmoud Abbas, also known as Abu Mazen, who was holding a speech in front of Fatah's women's organization. His listeners weren't only interested in what he was saying either. Shortly after a campaign stop in Bethlehem yesterday evening, Abbas collapsed. Doctors quickly said that it was merely a dizzy spell, but on the streets of Ramallah the first voices could already be heard suspecting he has a serious illness.
"I'm not going to vote for a candidate who we might have to bury soon," said truck driver Mohammed Abdallah. "We just went through that."
Muted election atmosphere
When Abbas stood before the 1,000 women today, he pardoned himself for his weak speaking ability. It's not that what he has to say is not riveting. Abbas is simply a poor speaker. He speaks too slowly, he repeats himself often, he rarely modulates his voice and uses flowery, academic Arab, which often makes him come off as artificial. When he speaks, he does not come off as a politician. And during his stump stop in this hall -- heated for two hours by the women's speeches, poems, music and even a theater piece -- it is only the women's voices ringing with campaign slogans during his pauses that give this the feel of a pivotal campaign moment.
Yet despite his lack of charisma, Abbas is a shoe-in for Sunday's vote. Current polls give him an overwhelming lead. Two factors have worked to his benefit -- that he was one of the founding members of former Palestinian Authority head Yasser Arafat's Fatah movement and that he was among the inner circle of Arafat followers before Arafat's death in November. For the majority of Palestinians, he is, therefore, the natural choice. The desire for the continuity of the Arafat legacy also plays a great role, here. That's why Abbas began his day with a prayer at Arafat's grave.
Much of the rest of the world -- particularly the United States, the European Union and Israel -- is likewise hoping for an Abbas victory. Yet this clear support from outside is a mixed blessing for the moderate Palestinian Liberation Organization (PLO) chief. On the one hand, the support is naturally welcome. But he also worries that all the praise he is getting for his political pragmatism and ability to compromise will cost him votes at home. As such, he has lately been using a much more critical tone toward Israel . Among other things, he's been describing the Israeli settlements and the security fence Israel is building as "illegal from the first to the last rock." When it comes to possible negotiations with Israel, he says that "there will be no peace as long as one single Palestinian prisoner sits in an Israeli jail." Currently, there are 7,000 prisoners and on Friday an Israeli court ruled that the prisoners could not take part in the vote. Another telltale sign: unlike two weeks ago, Abbas has stopped making pleas for Palestinians to stop armed fighting against Israel. For the moment, he is playing the role of a hardliner. It may just be campaign posturing, but he needs it in order to win.
The competitor: a smart doctor
Meanwhile, Mustafa Barghouti has been working to present himself as the "candidate of change" and the "ambassador of the poor" in order to appeal to those who feel disenfranchised by the Palestinian Authority and frustrated at the way they are governed. Tubasi, Tamun, Far'a: All are small, sleepy villages near the northern city of Jenin, far away from Barghouti's power base in Ramallah. It is in these places, however, where Barghouti is making his final rounds on the campaign trail. Even here, he has mobilized hundreds of supporters. Every 10 minutes, he spouts critiques of the Palestinian Authority, which he claims is laden with corruption and which he says makes secret deals with Israel behind closed doors.
He also promises to bring an end to a corrupt authority that has created an environment in which "even the unemployed need connections just to get a kilogram of flour." On the policy front, he has accused the architects of the 1993 Oslo Accords, including Abbas, of not having made their negotiation strategy transparent. "But the advantage of democracy is that everything must be fought in public," said Barghouti. And now he's calling for changes to the deal, which laid the foundations for the Middle East peace process. He's also demanding major reforms to the legal system, new parliamentary elections and a restructuring of the Palestinian Authority's cabinet. In terms of the Palestinians' stance with Israel, he has pledged steadfastness.
As he campaigns, a motorcade of about 40 cars carrying the Palestinian flag shuttles him from one village to the next. "We will be victorious," he enthusiastically yells to one of his supporters, a farmer from Tubas. A good deal of Barghouti's popularity here can be attributed to a country-wide network of first aid stations he began building at the start of the Intifada four years ago.
His campaign has been highly professional, and the smart, attractive doctor has long ago pushed other challengers to Abbas aside. Without the radical, militant Hamas offering up or supporting any candidate, Sunday's election will be a straight duel between Barghouti and Abbas. Unfortunately for Barghouti, Abbas has a much bigger weapon in his arsenal: Yasser Arafat, whose shadow hangs over every aspect of this election. Barghouti never enjoyed good relations with Arafat and that is likely to hurt him in a region where the former president remains a powerful symbol for all Palestinians. "I am the candidate of a majority that no longer wants to remain silent," Barghouti says, convinced of his prospects. But it's highly unlikely he'll be able to make up for his distance to Arafat in this election -- even if crowds gathering at his campaign events have been more enthusiastic than those of his opponent.
A dirty campaign
The campaign, which officially ends on Friday night, went on for about a month. For the most part, it proceeded without any serious incidents. And even smear campaigns directed from the two candidates failed to have any real impact. Both camps have accused the other of dubious campaign financing, for example, and an open letter to Barghouti poses 17 embarrassing questions about alleged embellishments to the candidate's resume.
In general, the Palestinians are pleased with the progress of the election, but most will be even more pleased when the whole thing is over. "I'm happy that we're finally going to be able to elect a leader who will represent us all, equally, and who we've actually had a chance to vote for," said Maisun Suleiman, a Gaza Strip student who studies in Ramallah. "That's just how we are. We don't like fighting with each other, we'd rather show our unity. Of course you have to fight in an election like this, but I'm still happy it will soon be over."
Whether you visit the cafes, beauty salons or markets, most of the people feel the same way. "If we thought Arafat would come back, we'd all wait," said Abdul Qadir Mustafa, a green grocer in Ramallah. During the past few weeks, he's made sure that an equal number of posters for each candidate have lined the wall of his stand. "I'm doing my part for democracy," the 58-year-old said. He's also resolute about his right to casting a secret ballot and refuses to give any hints about how he's going to vote on Sunday.