Israel Hands Control of Jericho to Palestinians

JERICHO, West Bank —  In a crucial confidence-building measure, Israeli forces Wednesday upended concrete barricades, took down the blue and white Israeli flag and handed over the oasis town of Jericho to Palestinian security control.

Jericho, famed for the biblical story of the walls that came tumbling down, is the first of five West Bank population centers from which Israel will be pulling back its troops over the coming weeks. The withdrawals are part of a series of steps meant to help bring the two sides back to the bargaining table after 4 1/2 years of conflict.

Though there had been virtually no Israeli military presence inside the town, the long-delayed hand-over was filled with symbolic overtones and provided a glimpse of how field officers on both sides, long accustomed to regarding each other as the enemy, might find a way to work together.

In the pounding desert sun at a checkpoint outside town, with a few wandering sheep and a forest of microphones for an audience, an Israeli commander and his Palestinian counterpart stood almost nose to nose, speaking in clipped undertones like a pair of business partners.

In brisk but oddly intimate terms, the two men discussed the parameters of a new mode of coexistence in this palm-shaded town, which has been on the sidelines of the worst fighting of the Palestinian intifada, or uprising, yet has been deeply affected by it every day.

“So here, your forces can be on the side road, over there, but not the main road,” said the Israeli commander, Col. Mordechai Elmoz, gesturing toward the near horizon.

As he spoke, the Palestinian commander, Gen. Ahmed Reit, grimaced slightly and stroked his chin, but nodded his assent.

A small Palestinian boy watched raptly, hand in hand with his grizzled father and apparently fixated by the rare sight of Israeli troops and Palestinian security men huddled together, ignoring the weapons slung from their shoulders.

Like so much about the conditional peace that has taken hold here since the death of Palestinian leader Yasser Arafat and the advent of a pragmatic new government, the hand-over was something of an ad hoc affair.

Despite the weeks of detailed haggling that had preceded the transfer, some elements appeared to be made up on the spot. The two commanders -- a graying, buzz-cut Israeli in sloppy fatigues and an older, mustachioed Palestinian in crisp black beret and neatly pressed uniform -- made a circuit of the flat, rocky land surrounding the town, stopping half a dozen times to confer.

Palestinians are particularly concerned about the outlying territory, the roads that radiate toward other West Bank locales: Ramallah, Jerusalem and the wide, sandstone-colored gash of the Jordan Valley.

In line with agreements reached Feb. 8 at a summit in the Red Sea resort of Sharm el Sheik, Egypt, Israel is to ultimately withdraw to what the two sides consider informal armistice lines, the position of Israeli forces when the intifada erupted in late September 2000. Since then, nearly all the West Bank has been under military occupation at some point.

Jericho, a 40-minute drive east of Jerusalem, was thought to be a relatively easy place to start the withdrawal process. Though under Israeli military control for nearly the entire intifada, it is remote and sleepy, and almost no real fighting took place here. Militant Palestinian groups such as Hamas and Islamic Jihad hold little sway.

Moreover, the Palestinians are highly motivated to return to normality. Jericho is home to the Oasis, a once-profitable casino run by an Austrian venture. It opened a few months before the start of the intifada, and in its heyday, tens of thousands of Israelis came to gamble.

The transfer negotiations took far longer than expected, and even on hand-over day, the two sides found much to bicker about. Only a single checkpoint was dismantled, and not completely. Two others are to remain in place for a 30-day trial period.

When a brief ceremony was held at an Israeli-Palestinian liaison office on the town’s outskirts, participants sparred over whether a handshake or a formal signature should seal the deal.

Still, the symbolism was unmistakable. Some of the giant concrete blocks, formerly used to make the roadway almost impassable, were lifted onto a flatbed truck. In addition to taking down their flag, Israeli soldiers stripped camouflage netting from a metal watchtower.

In an assertion of sovereignty, Palestinians wasted no time in setting up a checkpoint of their own near the entrance to town, and smiling police waved cars through. It was a sharp contrast to the long waits that had become part of daily life at the main Israeli roadblock.

For most Palestinians, restrictions on travel have been one of the most difficult manifestations of the occupation. Dozens of checkpoints dot the West Bank, and a simple trip to work, school or the hospital can be an hours-long ordeal.

Israel says the painstaking monitoring of vehicular traffic, as well as pedestrians, has prevented even more suicide bombings, which have killed and maimed hundreds of Israelis, from occurring in its cities and towns.

Palestinian negotiator Saeb Erekat, who lives in Jericho, called the hand-over a first small step toward a climate in which meaningful peace talks could occur. “Gradually, gradually we are hoping that things will change,” he said.

Jericho residents reacted with a mixture of skepticism and optimism, with little overt rejoicing. Most said they believed that Israeli troops would remain a visible presence on the town’s outskirts.

“We just want to be able to get in and out,” said Intisar abu Zeida, a 35-year-old mother of six who estimated that she had spent hundreds of hours over the last year at the main checkpoint at the town’s southern entrance. “God willing, that will improve things.”

But Izzat Fayyoumi, a 70-year-old merchant, said he expected little real dividend from the hand-over. “The Israelis don’t want peace,” he said.

Like all the towns to be handed over, Jericho is home to Palestinian fugitives sought by Israel, though in smaller numbers than in most of the other locales. Seventeen of the fugitives are being taken off the wanted list under the terms of the transfer.

It remained unclear what would happen to an imprisoned senior militant who is implicated in the 2001 assassination of Israeli Cabinet minister Rehavam Zeevi. The hand-over nearly fell apart this week over reports that Ahmed Saadat, the alleged mastermind in the killing, would be freed once Israel relinquished security control.

The other Palestinian towns to be handed over carry their own complications. The suicide bomber who blew himself up Feb. 25 outside a Tel Aviv nightspot, killing five Israelis, came from near Tulkarm, which is likely to be the next town handed over.

Kalkilya, just to the south, is nearly surrounded by the barrier Israel is building, a network of concrete walls and fencing that the Jewish state largely credits with halting the infiltration of bombers. But townspeople liken their community to a prison because of the wall.

The other Palestinian towns on the list are among the best-known to the outside world: Bethlehem, where biblical tradition holds that Jesus was born, and Ramallah, the seat of Palestinian government and the site of Arafat’s much-besieged headquarters.

No timetable has been set for the restive West Bank cities of Jenin, Hebron and Nablus, which have been hotbeds of confrontation between Palestinian militants and Israeli troops.

Palestinian Authority President Mahmoud Abbas has embarked on a high-stakes push to win a pledge from the major militant groups, including Hamas, Islamic Jihad and the Al Aqsa Martyrs Brigade, to refrain from attacks against Israel for at least a year.

Talks in Cairo, brokered by Egypt, were in their second day Wednesday and so far have yielded no tangible results.

In Jericho, Israelis and Palestinians said only time would tell whether their tentative new cooperation would succeed.

“I don’t promise kisses here,” said an Israeli lieutenant colonel, Sharon Biton. “Well, maybe we will kiss when we meet -- after all, that’s our tradition, both of us. But not for the cameras.”