Gazans Harbor Modest Dreams Amid Concerns
By James Bennet
August 15, 2005
The New York Times
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/08/15/international/middleeast/15gaza.html http://www.nytimes.com/2005/08/15/international/middleeast/15gaza.html 
DEIR AL-BALAH, Gaza Strip, Aug. 14 - Militants have done so much of the dreaming for Gaza's Palestinians for so long that others seem almost to have lost the habit. 
Now, on the eve of the scheduled departure of Gaza's other highly ambitious residents - the Israelis settlers who hoped to hold the land forever - Gazans are tentatively contemplating an unfamiliar possibility, new freedom. Most have what might seem modest notions of what do with it. 
To go upstairs, said Muhammad Bashir, 12, when asked Sunday what he dreamed of after the withdrawal. His home here in central Gaza is about 70 yards from an Israeli military base guarding the settlement of Kfar Darom. At the start of the last Palestinian uprising almost five years ago, the Israeli Army took over the upper two floors.
Across Mecca Street from the Bashirs' home, Israeli soldiers have stretched coils of concertina wire through the neighbors' backyards. Beyond that barrier is Salahadin Road, the major north-south road in Gaza, which has been closed during most of the uprising. Then comes the towering concrete wall of Kfar Darom, girded in part by a rust-red antirocket shield. 
These settlements are such a part of Gaza's landscape, and the army's constraints are such a part of life here, that is hard even for an occasional visitor to imagine them gone. Haya Bashir, also 12 and a neighbor and relative of Muhammad's, dreams of once again being able to play hide-and-seek outside. I have to do it inside, she said.
Vying for credit and control, the fractious Palestinian factions have decided to declare victory in the Israeli withdrawal. They are trying to stoke enthusiasm for the departure and demands for more territory. But Gazans in general are watching warily. Even now, some Palestinians doubt the Israelis will really go. Others wonder how soon and how far Israel will relax its control of Gaza's boundaries, airspace and coast line. Almost all worry what the governing Palestinian Authority will do with the additional land, which will increase the Gaza territory under Palestinian control by about a third. Palestinian leaders are trying to assure them that it will benefit all, not a select few.
To the west, the Mediterranean horizon looks limitless, an open invitation to dreamers. But an Israeli naval blockade keeps Gaza's fishing boats within a few miles and its fishermen's ambitions in check. Citing a danger of arms smuggling and terrorist attack, Israel for now plans to maintain its cordon around Gaza. 
To go farther, said Nasser Bakr, a 40-year-old fisherman, when asked his own hopes for life after the Israelis leave Gaza. To fish wherever we want. The fish are not stuck in one place. As he spoke by the shore in one of Gaza's refugee camps, the Beach Camp, a carpenter, Muhammad al-Minawi, 50, hammered new planks onto the ribs of a 55-foot boat. 
On Sunday in Gaza City, Hamas strung blazing green banners: Resistance wins, read one, so let's go on. Around the corner was a banner from the Palestinian Authority, which is dominated by a more secular faction, Fatah. Gaza today, it read, the West Bank and Jerusalem Tomorrow. A tag line said the banner was paid for by the United Nations Development Program. 
On Friday evening , the Palestinian Authority held a rally by Gaza's small seaport to mark the withdrawal. Organizers banned the yellow Fatah flag in favor of the black, white, green and red flag of the overarching national movement. That flag flapped from the sterns of yellow-and-blue fishing dories that raced around the harbor in the lowering sun. 
Today is the beginning of the fishermen's journey to Jerusalem, declared Mahmoud Abbas, the president of the Palestinian Authority. 
It had the look of a national event, but the crowd was dominated by Fatah activists. Several said their priority was getting jobs. They brought us in buses and they told us if we came they will get us jobs, said Sharif Abu Odah, 21. He tugged at the T-shirt he wore, bearing the familiar slogan about Gaza today and more to come tomorrow. They gave us this for free, at least, he said.
Not to be ignored, Hamas replied on Saturday with a news conference featuring the largest public gathering of its leaders in years. Several of the men had been hunted by Israel. The men were introduced by a tape-recording of machine-gun fire and the voices of leaders killed by Israel. Jihad is continuous, declared one of them, Abdel al-Rantisi.
Asked if the intifada was over, Nizar Rayan, a Hamas leader, replied: It's not over. We're going to continue as long as the occupation continues. But he said Hamas would not attack the Israelis as they withdrew, as long as there is no aggression.
From her farm in the northern Gaza Strip, Madeha Abu Nada, 46, has watched the residents of the settlement of Elei Sinai pack up. At night, she said Sunday, she now sees lights in the windows of only three houses. On Oct. 1, 2001, Bilal Rayan, a son of the Hamas leader, joined in a suicidal attack on Eli Sinai in which an Israeli couple was killed. The Israelis responded in part by bulldozing Ms. Abu Nada's orchards of orange, lemon and guava trees.
She said that soldiers had barred her from more than a fourth of her land, which abuts the settlement. That land has become a sandy waste. This is my dream: to make it green again, she said.
Asked if she had ever imagined the settlers would leave, Ms. Abu Nada said, Yes, just as I imagine that our sons will live side by side in peace.
Jawdat N. Khoudary, a contractor, is one of a handful of businessmen in Gaza who see a magnificent future for it, in part because he sees it as already magnificent. People don't realize the history here, he said. 
Gaza has no museum. Some 25 years ago, Mr. Khoudary began collecting relics that successive civilizations left behind in Gaza, artifacts unearthed by construction workers or winter rains or rolled ashore by rough seas. In his garden, which fills most of a block in Gaza City, he has constructed an arcade of columns and capitals and other fragments of Roman, Greek, Byzantine and Mameluke origin. A jasmine vine perfumed the air and Mr. Khoudary's doves murmured and flapped their wings as he wondered about the muted response to the Israeli withdrawal.
The last 10 years killed the hope, he said. He worried whether the Palestinian government had prepared well enough. We will not have this chance in another 100 years, he said. Mr. Khoudary acknowledged the uncertainty over how much authority Israel would retain but said impatiently: Of course we don't know. But at least we will have more freedom. It's in a positive direction.
Basil Eleiwa has as much reason as any Gazan to be wary of new risks. His hotel, The Windmill, was burned down in October 2000 by Islamic extremists angry that it served alcohol. But Mr. Eleiwa and four partners have just sunk $1.1 million into a new, elegant restaurant here, Roots - which serves no alcohol - and he is hoping to turn one of the settlements into a family resort. 
He envisions Gaza as a tourist hub, drawing Arabs who have been hearing about Gaza for years without being able to come. He is critical of the government's planning and of what he sees as the timidity of the business community. 
I can't believe you have a situation where an occupier is leaving and you are still afraid, he said. We are still afraid.
In his office at Roots, Mr. Eleiwa has hung an embroidered verse by a Palestinian poet:
Gaza came to me in the dress of a hungry woman.
She laid her tired head on my arm, and we both cried.
And the black trees got wet in our eyes.
I don't recall anything from Gaza,
Except for an eagle who ate his own wings.
The poem was dark, Mr. Eleiwa admitted. Depressing, he said. But it gives you some strength.
How so? To prove the guy wrong.