Palestinians Emerge as Israelis Lift Siege

They came out a few at a time at first, then in a stream, jubilant, smelly and still clutching the Kalashnikov rifles that seem to be an ever-present talisman for Palestinian militiamen.

After 10 days under siege, the 250 or more Palestinians holed up in Yasser Arafat’s headquarters were granted conditional freedom Sunday when Israel, under intense international pressure, pulled back its tanks and soldiers and said everyone in the compound, including the Palestinian Authority president, was free to leave.

However, the Israeli army said that it was keeping observation posts around the compound and that it still intended to arrest the several dozen people it has said are wanted on terrorism-related charges. Many of those in the compound said they had no intention of leaving.

Arafat, who appeared briefly before a chanting crowd, beaming and flashing his familiar V-for-victory sign, denounced the conditional pullback as “fraud and cheating” but said it could provide an impetus for a renewed effort at peace negotiations.

Israeli leaders, who had convened a contentious Cabinet meeting before Prime Minister Ariel Sharon left on a two-day trip to Russia, bickered about whether the siege had accomplished anything or had merely boosted Arafat’s sagging popularity.

Gen. Amos Gilead, the Israeli government coordinator for the occupied territories, defended both the siege and the decision to end it. He told Israeli radio that the siege was justified because “there was need of a sharp response that would deliver the message that terrorism couldn’t continue to exist.”

With that goal achieved, he said, it was appropriate to end the standoff.

At the Cabinet meeting, however, a furious Foreign Minister Shimon Peres declared: “The entire world is against us now.”

“It always is,” Sharon replied.

Peres also lambasted Sharon for sending assistant Dov Weisglass, and not himself, to Washington to discuss lifting the siege. That led to speculation that Peres, who represents the center-left Labor Party, might quit Sharon’s coalition government.

The Bush administration had put increasing pressure on Israel to back off from Arafat’s headquarters, known as the Muqata. After Sunday’s withdrawal, White House spokesman Gordon Johndroe said President Bush was pleased and was calling on both sides to work toward peace.

In New York, United Nations Secretary-General Kofi Annan welcomed Israel’s decision, which came five days after the U.N. Security Council approved a resolution demanding an Israeli withdrawal from the compound.

Sharon ordered the siege Sept. 19, hours after a Palestinian suicide bomber blew up a bus in Tel Aviv, killing six people and himself.

For the first several days, Israeli bulldozers and backhoes laid waste to much of the compound, sparing only the building in which Arafat and his compatriots were gathered. After that, the siege became a largely silent waiting game, with Israel demanding that Arafat turn over the men it described as fugitives and Arafat flatly refusing.

The siege had two consequences that may have led to the Israeli decision to withdraw. Not only did it bring international condemnation, including the Security Council resolution, but it seemed to give Arafat a new lease on political life. The standoff prompted large demonstrations by Palestinians and pushed aside, at least for the moment, talk of reforming his administration.

“The scenes from the Muqata ... are a bitter pill for the government to swallow,” Israeli television diplomatic affairs commentator Leah Zender said. “But they had no choice.”

The clear winners, she said, were Arafat and the U.S., which gained some margin for maneuvering in its pursuit of a war with Iraq.

“Sharon committed a very, very bad mistake,” said Arafat advisor Bassam abu Sharif, one of the founders of the Palestine Liberation Organization. “Arafat has become more popular and I’m sure will be reelected by the Palestinian people.”

Arafat issued a statement through a spokesman in which he called on Israel to withdraw from Palestinian territory “and go back to the status we had on Sept. 28, 2000,” at the beginning of the latest Palestinian intifada, or uprising.

He also said he was reiterating his commitment “to a total cease-fire” and urged Israel to do the same. Israel has maintained that Arafat’s commitment is meaningless because he is unable or unwilling to restrain the more radical Palestinian factions from carrying out attacks.

Although Israel said Arafat was free to leave his compound, aides said he had no intention of doing so. Israeli radio reported today that the government believed most of the men on its wanted list were still inside the compound but that Palestinians said most had fled.

Some Israelis expressed hope that the end of the siege would provide stimulus to Palestinian reform talks.

“The siege has been like an electric shock for the moderate Palestinian leaders,” said Defense Minister Binyamin Ben-Eliezer.

Even before the pullback, the Palestinian Legislative Council had issued a statement Saturday saying it was time to reassess the intifada, which has proved enormously costly for both sides.

The cordon around Arafat’s headquarters began lifting about noon Sunday, when the first of a convoy of Israeli tanks, jeeps, armored personnel carriers and other vehicles began driving out of the compound in a vapor of dust.

The retreat was complete in about two hours, at which point a horde of reporters and camera crews stampeded toward the compound. The Palestinians inside, realizing what was happening, started to emerge, grinning wildly, into the afternoon sun.

Some ran around like schoolboys, albeit schoolboys with 10-day-old beards and Kalashnikovs. In short order, an ice cream vendor arrived, providing the surreal picture of hardened militia fighters delicately licking cherry ice pops.

The lifting of the cordon provided the first close-up look at the inside of the battered compound and Arafat’s three-story office building, where hundreds of people had been squeezed into a warren of sandbagged rooms and hallways.

A sludge of spilled coffee and cigarette ash covered the floor in spots where the occupants--mostly military men--had spent their time sitting and talking. The odor of that detritus, mixed with the smells of sweat and urine, drifted through the halls of what was once a British military headquarters. With only one fully functioning bathroom in the building, some of those inside had resorted to using buckets.

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Times staff writer Tyler Marshall in New York contributed to this report.