Yesterday the U.N. Security Council convened on “the Palestinian question.” This is a regular, and regularly absurd, occurrence. The absurdity reached a new level, however, with a theatrical display of pique by Palestinian president Mahmoud Abbas.
In his speech before the council, Abbas claimed that the Palestinians are “the descendants of the Canaanites that lived in the land of Palestine 5,000 years ago and continuously remained there to this day.” We know of no evidence to support this assertion—though we’re aware of some evidence to the contrary. It’s an appeal, albeit an untrue one, to his increasingly radical base of supporters and a deliberate attempt to antagonize Israel by challenging the historical foundation on which the nation is based. Israel’s minister of education, Naftali Bennett, fired back: Abbas should “focus not on building an imaginary past, but rather on creating a practical future.” “A nation inventing its past,” Bennett said, “has no future.”
Abbas concluded his speech with a list of demands that included a “suspension of the decision regarding Jerusalem and halting [the] transfer of the U.S. embassy to Jerusalem.” It’s convenient for Abbas to suggest a condition to which he knows the United States won’t accede. It allows him to do what he does best—walk away from the table.
Which is what he did on Tuesday, literally. After his speech, Abbas and his coterie of bureaucrats walked out of the council chamber, snubbing the next two speakers, Israeli ambassador Danny Danon, and U.S. ambassador Nikki Haley.
Both criticized Abbas for his histrionics. Haley also took the opportunity to respond to recent comments by Palestinian diplomat Saeb Erekat, an Abbas adviser, that Haley should “shut up.” “I will decline the advice I was recently given by your top negotiator,” Haley said, “I will not shut up. Rather, I will respectfully speak some hard truths.” She noted that the “negotiators are sitting right behind me, ready to talk. But we will not chase after you. The choice, Mr. President, is yours.” Abbas wasn’t there to receive her message; he was busy having a photo taken with the Belgian foreign minister.
“I expected Mr. Abbas to stay with us and have a dialogue,” Danon remarked; “unfortunately he’s once again running away.”
Abbas has neither the power nor the will to make peace. It’s the perennial problem afflicting Palestinian leadership. If he compromises on the alleged “right of return”—the chimerical idea that Palestinians can re-occupy the lands from which they fled, thus in effect obliterating the Israeli state—he will be deposed by political adversaries. Thus his contradictory strategy: to prolong his pageantry in international forums such as the U.N., and to fashion himself a “moderate” even as he finances and incites terror. He seems to believe time is on his side. But it’s not. He’s 82. While he continues his performative intransigence, he further immiserates the people he claims to represent.
In a sense, it was entirely appropriate that Abbas walked out. In that sullen act, he became a metaphor for his own approach to peacemaking: When difficulties arise, vacate the premises and seek out photographers.
