The devil you know

He was a familiar monster, with his cartoon-character face and his trademark kafiyeh. In the last decade he had somehow been rehabilitated, at least provisionally, but never enough to blot out the memory of those dark days immediately following the murder of the Israeli Olympic athletes in 1972, nor to discount the permanently dark days of the families of all the victims of Palestinian terror since.

Yasser Arafat wanted to be seen as the face of his people. Therefore he must, even in death, especially in death, bear the burden of what was done in his name. Foremost among his crimes: He had a chance to help broker a lasting peace, and he blew it.

And yet, to unceasingly denigrate him now is to add fuel to the fire of his martyrdom. There are many who imagine his death as the product of a nefarious Israeli plot, and they would like nothing more than an excuse to defend his memory. More importantly, to harden ourselves forever against the people who followed him, knowing no other leader, would be self-destructive and shortsighted.

Hate is taught, and it served Arafat's position to teach the lesson of hatred that kept his people seething. If we consign those who admired him to the dustbin with him, we blow the opportunity to counter hate with another lesson, of mutual respect and democracy. History shows us, albeit too rarely, that hate can be unlearned.

If we focus on moving forward - looking beyond Arafat to the future - perhaps we can recapture the opportunity that he failed to take. The challenge now is to reach out to moderate Palestinians and potentially moderate Palestinians (hope springs eternal), and to do everything within our power to support a Palestinian move toward free elections and political moderation.

If we fail, the next devil may be far worse.

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