With Biden, Palestinians Seeking Freedom Get Permits Instead

Palestinian workers line up while waiting at the Palestinian side of Erez crossing to cross into Israel, in the town of Beit Hanoun, northern Gaza Strip, Sunday, March. 27, 2022. (AP)
Palestinian workers line up while waiting at the Palestinian side of Erez crossing to cross into Israel, in the town of Beit Hanoun, northern Gaza Strip, Sunday, March. 27, 2022. (AP)
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With Biden, Palestinians Seeking Freedom Get Permits Instead

Palestinian workers line up while waiting at the Palestinian side of Erez crossing to cross into Israel, in the town of Beit Hanoun, northern Gaza Strip, Sunday, March. 27, 2022. (AP)
Palestinian workers line up while waiting at the Palestinian side of Erez crossing to cross into Israel, in the town of Beit Hanoun, northern Gaza Strip, Sunday, March. 27, 2022. (AP)

For more than two years, the Biden administration has said that Palestinians are entitled to the same measure of "freedom, security and prosperity" enjoyed by Israelis. Instead, they've gotten US aid and permits to work inside Israel and its Jewish settlements.

The inconsistency is likely to come up when President Joe Biden visits Israel and the occupied West Bank this week for the first time since assuming office.

Israeli officials will likely point to the thousands of work permits issued to Palestinians in the West Bank and Gaza, allowing them to make far higher wages and injecting much-needed cash into economies hobbled by Israeli restrictions. Biden will likely tout the tens of millions of dollars in aid to the Palestinians he restored after it was cut off during the Trump years.

Supporters say such economic measures improve the lives of Palestinians and help preserve the possibility of an eventual political solution.

But when Biden is driven past Israel's towering separation barrier to meet with Palestinians in the West Bank town of Bethlehem, he will hear a very different story - about how Israel is cementing its decades-long military rule over millions of Palestinians, with no end in sight.

"Economic measures do have the potential to positively contribute to making peace, but that would require Israel and the US having a plan to end this 55-year-old military occupation," said Sam Bahour, a Palestinian-American business consultant based in the West Bank.

"They don’t, so any so-called economic ‘confidence-building measures’ are merely occupation-entrenching measures," Bahour said.

Israel's short-lived coalition government issued 14,000 permits to Palestinians in Gaza, which has been under a crippling blockade since the Hamas movement seized power 15 years ago. Israel says the blockade is needed to prevent Hamas from arming itself.

Israel also increased the number of permits issued in the West Bank, where well over 100,000 Palestinians work inside Israel and the settlements, mostly in construction, manufacturing and agriculture. It has even begun allowing small numbers of Palestinian professionals to work in higher-paying jobs in Israel's booming high-tech sector.

The government billed those and other economic measures as goodwill gestures, even as it approved the construction of thousands of additional settler homes in the occupied West Bank.

The Biden administration has adopted a similar strategy, providing financial assistance to Palestinians but giving Israel no incentive to end the occupation or grant them equal rights. Even its relatively modest plan to reopen a US Consulate in Jerusalem serving Palestinians hit a wall of Israeli opposition.

Ines Abdel Razek, advocacy director at the Palestine Institute for Public Diplomacy, says both the United States and the European Union are "throwing money at the Palestinians" instead of owning up to their complicity in the occupation.

"All Biden is trying to do is maintain a certain quiet and calm, which for Palestinians means entrenched colonization and repression," she said.

Michael Milshtein, an Israeli analyst who used to advise the military body in charge of civilian affairs in the territories, says the theory of "economic peace" - or promoting economic development in the absence of peace negotiations - goes back decades.

He says it's making a resurgence because of the prolonged lack of any peace process and the political crisis within Israel, but at best will only bring temporary calm.

"This is the way to preserve stability," he said. "This is not a way to solve deep political problems."

For individual Palestinians, the permits are a godsend. Their average wage inside Israel is around $75 a day, twice the rate in the West Bank, according to the World Bank. In Gaza, where unemployment hovers around 50%, tens of thousands lined up for the permits last fall.

But critics say the permits - which Israel can revoke at any time - are yet another tool of control that undermines the development of an independent Palestinian economy.

"Every permit Israel issues to Palestinian workers goes to serve Israel’s economic development and hollows out Palestine’s workforce, so we in the private sector will remain unable to create a different economic reality," Bahour said.

Even as it issues work permits, Israel is tightening its grip on what's known as Area C - the 60% of the West Bank under full Israeli control according to interim peace agreements signed in the 1990s. The Palestinian Authority has limited autonomy in an archipelago of cities and towns.

Area C includes most of the West Bank's open space and natural resources. The World Bank estimates that lifting heavy restrictions on Palestinian access to the area would boost their economy by a third. Israel captured the West Bank in the 1967 Mideast war, and the Palestinians want it to form the main part of their future state.

That's not on the table.

Israel's political system is dominated by right-wing parties that view the West Bank as an integral part of Israel. Even if Lapid, who supports a two-state solution, manages to form a government after Nov. 1 elections - which recent polls suggest is unlikely - his coalition would almost certainly rely on some hard-line parties.

It's often argued that even if economic measures do not lead to a political solution, they still promote stability - but history hasn't borne that out.

In the 1980s, nearly half of Gaza's labor force was employed in Israel and workers could travel in and out with ease. Hamas, which opposes Israel's existence, burst onto the scene in 1987 with the outbreak of the first Palestinian intifada, or uprising against Israeli rule. The second Palestinian uprising, in 2000, also erupted during a period of relative prosperity.

The Gaza permits, the first to be issued since the Hamas takeover, appear to provide a powerful incentive for the group to maintain calm, as any rocket fire could cause thousands of people to lose good-paying jobs. Then again, conflict between Israel and Hamas has always come at a staggering cost to Palestinians.

In the West Bank, where far more Palestinians have the coveted permits, a recent wave of violence has brought deadly attacks inside Israel and near-daily military raids.

A recent poll conducted by the Palestinian Center for Policy and Survey Research found that 65% of Palestinians support the so-called confidence-building measures, including the issuing of permits. The survey included 1,270 Palestinians from across the West Bank and Gaza, with a margin of error of 3 percentage points.

But the same poll also found some striking measures of despair: Support for a two-state solution dropped from 40% to 28% in just three months, and 55% of those surveyed support "a return to confrontations and armed intifada."



Lebanese Face Grueling Journeys Home After War Leaves them Stranded Abroad

Travelers track flight changes during Iran-Israel war (Reuters)
Travelers track flight changes during Iran-Israel war (Reuters)
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Lebanese Face Grueling Journeys Home After War Leaves them Stranded Abroad

Travelers track flight changes during Iran-Israel war (Reuters)
Travelers track flight changes during Iran-Israel war (Reuters)

Hundreds of Lebanese citizens stranded abroad during the recent Iran-Israel war hope the declared ceasefire will soon allow them to return home, after spending days or even weeks trapped in airports or foreign cities where they had planned only brief stays.

Others managed to make arduous and costly journeys back to Lebanon, using complex combinations of land, air, and sea travel.

Since the outbreak of the conflict, many Lebanese, especially students and religious pilgrims on summer break, faced major obstacles returning home. International airlines repeatedly canceled or altered flights, and some airports closed, forcing stranded travelers to remain abroad, sometimes overnight in airport terminals.

Nisreen Fatouni, 28, one of those caught outside Lebanon, described her ordeal to Asharq Al-Awsat: “We were heading to Congo’s airport three hours before our Ethiopian Airlines flight to Lebanon on Saturday, June 14, only to be told the flight was canceled because the airline feared flying over Lebanese airspace.”

Fatouni said she then booked another uncertain flight for Sunday, June 16, but it was canceled three times in a row. “To this day, I don’t know if I will be able to return anytime soon. I hope the ceasefire announcement will ease air travel restrictions,” she said.

Currently staying at her sister-in-law’s home, Fatouni fled two months ago with her two young daughters to escape Israeli strikes targeting multiple areas in Lebanon. Fate intervened when war erupted just one day before her scheduled return flight to her hometown of Deir Qanoun Ras Al-Ain in southern Lebanon.

Fatouni expressed deep fears about Lebanon’s security situation. “I feel both helpless and scared. There is no sense of safety in Lebanon. But how long can I keep running?” she said. “I want to go back to my home where I left my husband and extended family... my daughters miss their father too.”

Fatouni, like many Lebanese stranded abroad during the Iran-Israel conflict, now faces a difficult decision: wait for Ethiopian Airlines to resume flights to Lebanon or travel at her own expense to Egypt or Türkiye and then make her way to Beirut.

“I don’t want to risk spending another night in an airport as a woman alone with two children,” she said.

“An emergency could still prevent flights from taking off from Egypt or Türkiye. I hope our return is not delayed further. I’ve booked a new flight, hoping nothing else will change.”

Fatouni is far from alone. Scores of Lebanese across African countries monitor developments anxiously, frustrated by continuous flight cancellations and delays, desperate not to abandon plans to spend the summer in Beirut despite the turmoil at home.

The ceasefire declared Tuesday morning has sparked cautious optimism among many hoping to return soon.

The situation is similar for Lebanese tourists stranded in Europe. Mohammad Dawood recounted his experience: “I flew from Germany, where I live, to Antalya in Türkiye
intending to return to Lebanon. But because of the war, I ended up spending three nights moving between the hotel and airport.”

“My booking was canceled multiple times, and travel dates changed repeatedly. On the fourth day, I decided to return to Germany. I didn’t want to keep trying; it felt hopeless. There just aren’t enough flights for all of us,” he said.

Dawood added that around 70 Lebanese in Antalya chose to return to Europe rather than risk staying amid uncertain conditions and rising costs. “We didn’t want to take chances, especially with things looking bleak.”

While Dawood had a home to return to in Germany, many others remained stuck abroad, lacking the financial means to extend their stays. Videos circulating on social media show travelers sleeping on airport floors, awaiting a chance to book flights.

A Grueling Journey via Iraq and Iran

Conditions are worse for Lebanese stranded in Iraq and Iran, where options dwindle by the day. Iran’s airspace closures have left Lebanese students, religious scholars, businesspeople, and pilgrims trapped in cities including Mashhad, Isfahan, and Qom.

Mustafa, a relative of three stranded students, told Asharq Al-Awsat the young men had to take a costly taxi ride from Mashhad to Qom, then cross into Iraq by land, before flying from Basra airport back to Beirut.

“They were exploited because of their age, paying nearly $800 for the taxi and a similar amount to cross into Iraq. They endured long and exhausting journeys,” Mustafa said.

“We urge authorities to organize evacuations, at least for students living in dire conditions. There are rumors of a black market selling tickets at exorbitant prices.”

Khodr, another Lebanese pilgrim stuck in Iraq, told Asharq Al-Awsat he spent five days in the country before managing to return to Lebanon last Tuesday.

“I was in Najaf on a religious visit and traveled to Basra by taxi, where I secured seats for students I know on the same flight,” he said. “I was lucky, but many others are in a terrible state.”

About 1,120 Lebanese have been repatriated from Iraq via Iraqi Airways, according to official figures.

Khodr described the flight back as unusually long - about four hours compared to the typical hour-and-a-half - due to the altered route.

In the worst-case scenario, Khodr had planned to travel overland from Iraq to Türkiye, then take a ferry from Mersin port to Tripoli, northern Lebanon.

Others have completed similar journeys, with one boat leaving last Wednesday and arriving in Tripoli the following day, the Lebanese Ministry of Public Works and Transport confirmed.