In the protest tent, tempers frequently boil over at the mention of the P.A. "The police already complain if they get their salaries one month late," shouts one man. "We haven't had salaries for two years." Many ask where all the money goes that they think the P.A. gets from international donors and the Arab countries. "We see it on TV, but not here in the street," says one man. Another complains that the P.A. knows how to look after its own but has abandoned the workers. "They still have cars and they have petrol for the cars to drive," he says. "How come they make me pay my electricity bill, which they know I cannot afford?"
The protests may yet influence the Palestinian elections that have been announced for early next year. Indeed, the frustration and anger may do more to undermine the standing of Arafat than any speech by President Bush. Hassanein says he voted for Arafat in the elections six years ago, but now regrets it. This time around, he does not know who will get his vote. "The situation is so bad," he says. "Just in order to get a little bit of money, most people are prepared to make a deal with the devil." By "devil" he seems to refer both to the Islamic extremists who oppose Arafat and to the Israelis, for whom most laborers would gladly work again if given the chance.
Rasem al Bayari, the chairman of the Palestinian General Federation of Trade Unions in Gaza, works in an office overseen by a large portrait of Arafat. In an interview, he initially minimizes the challenge that the laborers pose to the P.A. and Fatah. "The Palestinians are united," he says. "These economic pressures are not going to undermine our solidarity."
Al Bayari explains that the unions collect a tax from government workers who still get a salary and that they make payments to the unemployed whenever they can. Thus far, he says, 110,000 people have received the $100 payments, most of them only once in the last two years. But some large families or families in difficult circumstances have received up to five of the payments, he says. The unions also try to get free medical treatment for as many workers as possible. But the problem, he explains, is basic: There is just not enough money to help the unemployed more effectively. "Donations from Arab countries?" he says. "I haven't seen them yet."
Al Bayari is clearly a Fatah man, and after much prodding, he admits that he is deeply troubled by the mood in the street. "To hold elections now is a mistake," he says. "The people are angry and if elections are held now, they may elect extremists." He is scathing about international efforts to alleviate the humanitarian situation. "There needs to be more pressure on Israel to release funds that belong to the P.A.," he says. Even if the international community does not trust the P.A. with the money, he says, it can be distributed to the needy through organizations such as his own union federation.
The P.A. and Fatah are clearly worried by the head start enjoyed by Islamic charities in the field of humanitarian aid. Networks affiliated with the Muslim Brotherhood and later with Hamas go back decades in the Gaza Strip and are highly regarded by the population. And some militant and Islamic foreign regimes have begun to provide direct and high-profile aid during this intifada. Saddam Hussein, for example, has ordered direct payments -- ranging from $5,000 to $25,000 -- to the families of suicide bombers, to those who lose their homes, and to other victims of the uprising. Saudi Arabia, too, has been accused by Israel of providing payments to families of "martyrs," although Saudi officials have denied it.
Sheikh Ahmed Al-Kurd heads the Islamic Salah Foundation, whose main backers are the Saudis. He downplays the Islamic character of the foundation, and in doing so, implicitly downplays its political character and impact, too. "The aid is purely humanitarian and doesn't have anything to do with support for Hamas or Fatah," he says. "We are Islamic just like the Red Cross is Christian."
With a weary smile, Al-Kurd says he has been active since 1978, subtly drawing a distinction between himself and relative newcomers like the Palestinian Authority. The P.A. is responsible for feeding the people, he says, and points at the failure of Arafat and the party to build up a strong, independent economy after the 1993 Oslo accords. "Our job is not to take the place of the P.A. but to complement it," he says. But since the start of the intifada, the number of people who regularly get food from the Salah Foundation has increased 10-fold, says Al-Kurd, from 10,000 before to well over 100,000 today.
The Islamic Resistance Movement, better known as Hamas, is less circumspect about the ties it has with the Islamic charities. "Of course Salah and other Islamic foundations are identified with us," says Ismael Abu Shanab, a senior spokesman who lives in the Sheikh Radwan neighborhood. Hamas made huge strides in popularity among the Palestinians at the beginning of the intifada with its hard-hitting attacks against Israelis, but Hamas is clearly worried now that economic pressure may cause most people to abandon the uprising. Hamas may derive some political gain from the works of these organizations, Abu Shanab concedes, but he insists that is not the objective. Even though the tactics have not changed, he says, Hamas considers it prudent to also emphasize its humanitarian work. "We don't want to derive immediate political benefits," he explains. "We see it more as a means of extending the life span of the intifada."
Just a few streets away in Sheikh Radwan, Hassanein's house lies at the back of a small market that looks half abandoned. Every time he enters his small home, where he lives with his wife and children, his shoulders almost brush against the meat that the butcher shop out front has hung from hooks in the open air. "That is the only meat we ever see," he remarks bitterly. In the sweltering heat of the Gaza summer, some of his children chime in: "We never eat ice cream anymore, either."
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