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Palestinians Worry About Arafat -- and Their Future

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Times Staff Writer

Mohammed Daoud was red-eyed Thursday after spending a sleepless night following television news about the latest health problems afflicting Yasser Arafat, president of the Palestinian Authority.

The 41-year-old laborer said he was living in Jordan when he first heard of Arafat in 1970, as the Palestine Liberation Organization battled Jordanian forces. Daoud, then 7, saw PLO leader Arafat as “a freedom fighter for the sake of Palestine.”

Like Daoud, Palestinians here have remained riveted to the ever-shifting reports about Arafat’s health in recent days. He may have cancer. He does not have cancer. He has a bad flu. He has a gallstone. He passed out. He never lost consciousness.

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Palestinian officials have insisted publicly that Arafat was not in a life-threatening condition, but the pronouncements have done little to clear up the confusion on the streets of Ramallah, the site of the compound where Arafat has been confined for more than two years.

“The truth is still not known,” said Khaled Ahmed, who was selling bananas from a cart in the heart of Ramallah’s noisy downtown. “We still don’t know.”

Amid the conflicting reports, many residents were also grappling anew with the fact that Arafat, who has had health problems for years, cannot lead -- or live -- forever.

“Of course we are all going to die. But we are sad because we got used to having one leader and used to the idea that the one leader is Abu Amr,” Ahmed said, referring to Arafat by his nom de guerre.

Despite Arafat’s diminished image abroad and the growing internal criticism over alleged corruption and misrule within the Palestinian Authority, the 75-year-old leader remains the most popular figure for Palestinians: a guerrilla fighter, political leader and consummate survivor.

In Ramallah’s downtown district -- not far from the battle-ravaged compound where Arafat was being examined by an international team of doctors -- Palestinians made it clear that they were closely monitoring the latest Arafat drama.

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At the same time, however, residents were going about daily life as normal, concerned about Arafat, but with no outward sign that they feared a crisis.

Adnan Manasrah managed to keep up on the latest news tidbits about Arafat while selling toys and perfume on the street. He said Palestinian life would be a “disaster” without Arafat, dismissing criticisms that the leader had impeded peace efforts with Israel.

“I don’t think anyone can replace him fully,” said Manasrah, 24.

Manasrah said sales were poor and that life in the West Bank was worse than it was a few years before. But he blamed Israel, not Arafat.

“I think he did everything within his reach to help us,” Manasrah said.

Others were contemplating the relative merits of possible successors to Arafat, but few were able to come up with the name of anyone in the Palestinian leadership they viewed as a worthy replacement.

“I don’t think that a good one is going to replace him,” said Salwa Yaqoub, 65, a retired dressmaker. “I wouldn’t be surprised if we have internal fighting.”

Yaqoub said she had met Arafat six months ago when she visited his complex as part of a women’s delegation.

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“I told him, ‘I wish you live to see the fruits of the revolution,’ ” she said.

Outside Arafat’s compound, scores of journalists from around the world awaited word on his condition and physicians’ plans for treatment.

But unlike during past crises involving Arafat since his confinement, few ordinary Palestinians arrived at the gates Thursday to show solidarity with their president. One possible explanation was that officials had succeeded in downplaying the seriousness of his illness.

Two young women who were there said they had come to sort out the incomplete and contradictory accounts.

“We wanted to see for ourselves,” said Sawsan Shaheen, a 24-year-old university student from Jerusalem. She was accompanied by her 29-year-old sister, Rima.

The women sat on the pavement outside the gates and were quickly besieged for a few moments by news photographers. They read the Koran and prayed, and cried a little.

After a short while they got up and went home, with no clearer information about Arafat’s state of health than when they had arrived.

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Special correspondent Maher Abukhater contributed to this report.

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