The Israel-Arab Reader (88 page)

ARTICLE 7—ECONOMIC RELATIONS

ARTICLE 8—REFUGEES AND DISPLACED PERSONS

ARTICLE 9—PLACES OF HISTORICAL AND RELIGIOUS SIGNIFICANCE

ARTICLE 10—CULTURAL AND SCIENTIFIC EXCHANGES

The parties, wishing to remove biases developed through periods of conflict, recognize the desirability of cultural and scientific exchanges in all fields, and agree to establish normal cultural relations between them. Thus, they shall, as soon as possible and not later than nine months from the exchange of the instruments of ratification of this treaty, conclude the negotiations on cultural and scientific agreements.

ARTICLE 11—MUTUAL UNDERSTANDING AND GOOD NEIGHBORLY RELATIONS

ARTICLE 12—COMBATING CRIME AND DRUGS

The parties will cooperate in combating crime, with an emphasis on smuggling, and will take all necessary measures to combat and prevent such activities as the production of, as well as the trafficking in illicit drugs, and will bring to trial perpetrators of such acts. In this regard, they take note of the understandings reached between them in the above spheres, as per Annex III and undertake to conclude all relevant agreements no later than nine months from the date of the exchange of the instruments of ratification of this treaty.

ARTICLE 13—TRANSPORTATION AND ROADS

Taking note of the progress already made in the area of transportation, the parties recognize the mutuality of interest in good neighborly relations in the area of transportation and agree to the following means to promote relations between them in this sphere:

ARTICLE 14—FREEDOM OF NAVIGATION AND ACCESS TO PORTS

...3. The parties consider the Strait of Tiran and the Gulf of Akaba to be international waterways open to all nations for unimpeded and non-suspendable freedom of navigation and overflight. The parties will respect each other's right to navigation and overflight for access to either party through the Strait of Tiran and the Gulf of Akaba.

ARTICLE 15 — CIVIL AVIATION

ARTICLE 16—POSTS AND TELECOMMUNICATIONS

The parties take note of the opening between them, in accordance with the Washington Declaration, of direct telephone and facsimile lines. Postal links, the negotiations on which having been concluded, will be activated upon the signature of this treaty. The parties further agree that normal wireless and cable communication and television relay services by cable, radio, and satellite, will be established between them, in accordance with all relevant international conventions and regulations. The negotiations on these subjects will be concluded not later than nine months from the exchange of the instruments of ratification of this treaty.

ARTICLE 17—TOURISM

The parties affirm their mutual desire to promote cooperation between them in the field of tourism. . . .

ARTICLE 19—ENERGY

ARTICLE 20—RIFT VALLEY DEVELOPMENT

The parties attach great importance to the integrated development of the Jordan Rift Valley area, including joint projects in the economic, environmental, energy-related, and tourism fields. Taking note of the terms of reference developed in the framework of the trilateral Israel-Jordan-US economic committee towards the Jordan Rift Valley Development Master Plan . . . they will vigorously continue their efforts towards the completion of planning and towards implementation. . . .

At an age when most youngsters are struggling to unravel the secrets of mathematics and the mysteries of the Bible; at an age when first love blooms; at the tender age of sixteen, I was handed a rifle so that I could defend myself.

That was not my dream. I wanted to be a water engineer. I studied in an agricultural school and I thought being a water engineer was an important profession in the parched Middle East. I still think so today. However, I was compelled to resort to the gun.

I served in the military for decades. Under my responsibility, young men and women who wanted to live, wanted to love, went to their deaths instead. They fell in the defense of our lives.

In my current position, I have ample opportunity to fly over the State of Israel, and lately over other parts of the Middle East as well. The view from the plane is breathtaking: deep-blue seas and lakes, dark-green fields, dune-colored deserts, stone-gray mountains, and the entire countryside peppered with white-washed, red-roofed houses.

And also cemeteries. Graves as far as the eye can see. Hundreds of cemeteries in our part of the world, in the Middle East—in our home in Israel, but also in Egypt, in Syria, Jordan, Lebanon. From the plane's window, from the thousands of feet above them, the countless tombstones are silent. But the sound of their outcry has carried from the Middle East throughout the world for decades.

Standing here today, I wish to salute our loved ones—and past foes. I wish to salute all of them—the fallen of all the countries in all the wars; the members of their families who bear the enduring burden of bereavement; the disabled whose scars will never heal. Tonight, I wish to pay tribute to each and every one of them, for this important prize is theirs. . . .

Of all the memories I have stored up in my seventy-two years, what I shall remember most, to my last day, are the silences: The heavy silence of the moment after, and the terrifying silence of the moment before.

As a military man, as a commander, as a minister of defense, I ordered many military operations. And together with the joy of victory and the grief of bereavement, I shall always remember the moment just after taking such decisions: the hush as senior officers or cabinet ministers slowly rise from their seats; the sight of their receding backs; the sound of the closing door; and then the silence in which I remain alone.

That is the moment you grasp that as a result of the decision just made, people might go to their deaths. People from my nation, people from other nations. And they still don't know it.

At that hour, they are still laughing and weeping; still weaving plans and dreaming about love; still musing about planting a garden or building a house—and they have no idea these are their last hours on earth. Which of them is fated to die? Whose picture will appear in the black frame in tomorrow's newspaper? Whose mother will soon be in mourning? Whose world will crumble under the weight of the loss?

As a former military man, I will also forever remember the silence of the moment before: the hush when the hands of the clock seem to be spinning forward, when time is running out and in another hour, another minute, the inferno will erupt.

In that moment of great tension just before the finger pulls the trigger, just before the fuse begins to burn; in the terrible quiet of the moment, there is still time to wonder, to wonder alone: Is it really imperative to act? Is there no other choice? No other way?

“God takes pity on kindergartners,” wrote the poet Yehudah Amichai, who is here with us this evening—and I quote his:

“God takes pity on kindergartners, Less so on the schoolchildren, And will no longer pity their elders, Leaving them to their own, And sometimes they will have to crawl on all fours, Through the burning sand, To reach the casualty station, Bleeding.”

For decades, God has not taken pity on the kindergartners in the Middle East, or the schoolchildren, or their elders. There has been no pity in the Middle East for generations.

I was a young man who has now grown fully in years. And of all the memories I have stored up in my seventy-two years, I now recall the hopes.

Our people have chosen us to give them life. Terrible as it is to say, their lives are in our hands. Tonight, their eyes are upon us and their hearts are asking: How is the power vested in these men and women being used? What will they decide? Into what kind of morning will we rise tomorrow? A day of peace? Of war? Of laughter? Of tears?