Intifada Leaves Many Israelis Feeling Like Strangers in Their Own Land : Middle East: Their expressions of fear challenge the official wisdom that Israel has adjusted to the Arab uprising.

Perhaps the most striking impact of the Arab uprising on Israeli life is that the Palestinians have managed to make Israelis feel less at home than ever before in the 41-year history of the Jewish state.

This may seem curious given Israel’s military might, not to mention the toll of more than 600 Palestinian lives during the two years of turmoil. But in recent conversations in half a dozen Israeli towns with a score of residents, reserve soldiers included, a picture of extreme discomfort among Israelis emerges.

When asked what the intifada means to them, they responded with some variation on a single theme: the intifada scares them; it makes them strangers in their own land, not just in the occupied and disputed territories of the West Bank and Gaza Strip. It is a Zionist nightmare: Having come to Israel to shed the hostilities of the Diaspora, Israelis find themselves in endless animosity, not just from across the borders but in their midst.

Every street corner is a potential conflict, every mundane encounter a possible clash. Last week, a Palestinian worker at a Jerusalem restaurant was charged with poisoning salad with insecticide after four customers became severely ill after eating there.

The expressions of fear by Israelis challenge the current official wisdom that Israel has adjusted to the Arab uprising. Although Israelis did comment on the severe punishment dealt to the Palestinian population, the limits on their own personal freedom resulting from the intifada provoked near-rage.

Everyone seemed anxious for some solution and, like the wildly gyrating Israeli public surveys on the subject, the preferred solution alternated between a willingness to sort out the problems with the Palestinians and a yearning to end the conflict by expelling Palestinians en masse from the occupied lands.

Ideological concerns were secondary: Neither the expansionist dreams common to Israel’s rightist camp nor the ardent soul-searching characteristic of the left was much in evidence. Even in religious neighborhoods, biblical considerations of God’s will in the matter took a back seat to questions of personal safety.

Peace talks, tentatively scheduled to begin in Washington in the coming weeks, appeared to be far less daunting than the prospect of living in perpetual fear, even among the many who expressed profound mistrust of Palestinians.

Over coffee at the Shimson Meeting Place cafe outside the small town of Bet Shemesh, truck driver Moshe Ashkenazi complained of a feeling of confinement.

“I own trucks. We used to transport things from the territories. There are places I want to go to, but the rocks break my windows every day.

“I have a gun, but the gun license says it is for self-defense. If I go to the territories, I can’t use the weapon. You know, if they throw stones and hit you, you can die. If they try to kill a Jew, we can’t protect ourselves.

“We Jews have to choose whether to go in and, in order to stay alive, get in trouble, or get out. So most people stop going.

“I want to make clear to the American people and the world at large that our enemy is not civilized, but primitive. Most Israeli people support the government decision not to talk to (Palestine Liberation Organization leader) Yasser Arafat, whose hands are full of blood. Instead, we want to talk to people who live here.”

The owner of the Shimson Meeting Place, Shlomo Malka, came over with more coffee. “It’s a mess. We should find a place for them and give them a state--on the other side of the Jordan River. Could be Gaza, but some place completely separate. It’s a question of security.”

At the Mahaneh Yehuda market in Jerusalem, almost any kind of pickled fish, spice and salads are available, but usually only one kind of political opinion: right-wing and anti-Arab.

So it came as something of a surprise to hear Boaz Zidkiyahu, a purveyor of pungent Oriental salads, say that talk is the best way to get out of the tangle of the intifada.

“There are solutions. We must sit down and talk with local residents of the territories. Not with the PLO, that’s for sure. I am in favor of sitting down and talking, because the way things are now, there will be no end, not for us and not for them.

“The intifada has placed great limits on Jews in their own land. People in Jerusalem can not even go to the Old City without a certain element of danger. Israelis in the territories have great difficulty traveling to their places of work and employment. In contrast, the Arabs can come into our areas, and feel much better among us than we do among them. In fact, the Arabs feel more comfortable in our areas than we do.”

“It’s a guerrilla war,” exclaimed Itzik Avraha, a fruit vendor. “It will continue for a long time; it will be very hard to find a solution.

“I don’t mind any solution so long as it brings us rest. Maybe they should have a state in Jordan. What do I care about the West Bank? Even Jerusalem, with the special feeling we have for it, is not worth the life of one soldier.”

Eli Pasha, another vendor, remarked: “I am worried about the influence it has on my children; things will only get worse, not better. Once they were just Arabs, like there are Jews and there are Moroccans; an Arab was an Arab like any other human being. Today, we see it differently, like to be an Arab is to be terrifying.”

Bnei Brak is a religious neighborhood near Tel Aviv, a place seemingly distant from the intifada . Most young men from there do not serve in the army, receiving instead exemptions for religious studies. Still, even there a pall of uncertainty prevails.

Raphael, a 23-year-old yeshiva student, was idling at a wedding hall waiting for festivities to begin.

“It’s a catastrophe,” he said of the uprising. “In our own state, we can’t live in peace. The Arabs walk around in Bnei Brak and feel more secure than we do. He looks at us like he owns us.

“My wife is very scared. There are lots of Arab workers around. They do construction work. My wife is afraid to walk in the street--only since the intifada. We don’t even think of going to the territories.

“I’m not a radical, (but) maybe we should deal with them more harshly. I don’t hate Arabs, but if they find reason to kill us, well, it’s our state. If they don’t like us, they should get out.

“Every part of the land of Israel is holy, but for the peace, the rabbis say, we are allowed to give some back. But everything you give the Arabs they want more. There has to be real peace. We have to get something back in return.”

Grocer Naimrod Yovel, manning the cash register at his nearby shop, commented: “We should deal with the Arabs like the Arabs deal with themselves, like in Algeria; (or) kill 200 in one day, like Syria would.

“I had a small spice factory in the territories and sold food over there. Now I don’t go. People are scared to go. It’s crazy to go.

“There is land enough to give some away. Not Jerusalem--ever. But other places.