Fuzzy math

Fuzzy math and fuzzy politics … welcome to the world of the Middle East

Since the start of the Palestinian Intifada (Uprising) in 1998, the Palestinian question has not been just at the center of the future of peace in the Middle East, but also at the center of the American political landscape.
This tragic and human drama of the Palestine story was never fully told in a way that made it to the American conscience. Instead, millions of Palestinians have been looked at as faceless victims for so long.
Now, the raw scenes of Palestinian children standing next to machine guns and tanks holding nothing but rocks has added a new chapter to the Palestinian story and forced the Americans to reconsider their apathy.
The haunting images of 12-year-old Palestinian Mohammed Al-Durrah, killed in the crossfire between the Israeli and Palestinian forces while seeking protection with his father, is disturbing indeed. The fate of the young victim provided a human face for the first time in the Palestinian's drama.
In an age where there are more storytellers than good stories; where we elect our leaders not so much based on issues but based on how well they tell their own personal stories; in an age of fuzzy math and fuzzy morality, the Palestinian story never made it to the American bedtime literature.
The fact that millions of Palestinian refugees were ignored and thousands have been killed through years of fighting - eighty Palestinians, mostly children, were just killed last week - is nothing but fuzzy math.
The unforgettable face of 12-year old Mohammed Al-Durrah trusting his helpless father, however, brought the Palestinian tragedy closer to home. I'm not suggesting that Mohammed Al-Durrah will become the Palestinian version of Cuban six-year-old Elian Gonzales - an American household name - anytime soon. In the Gonzales case, a family custody tragedy captivated our imaginations for months.
Palestinian people in an Arab world are big on stories and short on good storytellers, therefore unable to tell their own human stories to the American people. Unfortunately, they've had to trust their stories to people like Saddam Hussien, Gadaffy, Assad, ben-ladden and the likes. Now, for the first time after the Palestinian Intifada (Uprising), the Palestinians can tell their own story, galvanized by the experience of this 12-year old Mohammed Al-Durrah and others like him.
Like millions of other Palestinian boys, young Mohammed Al-Durrah just wanted to be safe in his dad's sanctuary and not in the Muslim Haram al-Sharif "Noble Sanctuary" in Jerusalem. This little Mohammed Al-Durrah just wanted to settle in a home of his own and grow old without having to settle old problems. Mohammed Al-Durrah just wanted to have a park where he could play a pick up game of soccer and not feel the need to pick up rocks to throw at his ancestors' enemies.
Mohammed Al-Durrah was forced into a biblical tribal conflict he didn't start -- a human tragedy thousands of years old -- that he couldn't possibly understand. He was unfortunately caught in a political game between leaders from both sides who have been squandering the future of their generations in order to advance their own political ambitions.
Mohammed Al-Durrah wanted only a homeland that is hopeful, not unwelcoming. A Promised Land. Mohammed Al-Durrah, like millions of Palestinian and Israeli children, was robbed of his personal dreams in the name of a national dream that has turned into a long and terrible nightmare.
Let us all embrace this historical moment, let us be creative and pray for a safe journey home for everyone. Let us find the wisdom and courage to overcome our tribal bias. Let us not waste the life of this 12-year old Palestinian boy as thousands before him have been. Let us all calm down and get back to the negotiation table where the two parties should realize that their tragic story may not had the same beginning but must have the same ending. Let us return the Promised Land to the only one who holds the original title to it: to God. Remember, a Promised Land is a place for families to prosper, not to die fighting.

Ahmed Tharwat/ BelAhdan