The Rise and Fall of a Palestinian Dynasty (37 page)

Judge Gad Frumkin witnessed the scene and was appalled. He ran after Ussishkin and asked him why he had refused to shake the
mufti
’s hand. ‘How could I offer my hand to the head of a religion whose sons raped daughters of Israel?’ was the answer. However, Ussishkin could not have thought of any particular case, nor was there evidence of any such atrocities. Frumkin later noted in his memoir that this incident, like many others, typified the insolence of the Zionist leaders.
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Deeply offended, Kamil gathered his family and told them about the incident. His brother Amin al-Husayni listened attentively and would often repeat the story. When Kamil died in March 1921 and al-Hajj Amin succeeded him as Grand Mufti, one of the first people to visit and congratulate him was M. D. Eder, the member of the Zionist Commission in charge of political affairs. Afterwards Dr Eder waited in vain for the
mufti
to pay him a return visit. Frumkin found out about this when he tried to persuade Eder’s successor, Colonel Kisch, to meet ‘the head of the Muslim religion’ in Palestine, and heard that since the
mufti
had not repaid his predecessor’s courtesy visit, Kisch saw no point in meeting.

All this happened during the fasting month of Ramadan. Frumkin was a regular visitor at the Husaynis’ on the sociable nights when the fast was broken. After talking to Kisch, he hurried to visit al-Hajj Amin. Not finding him at home, he looked for him among the many diners who crowded the big hall. At his request, someone called the new
mufti
, and the two talked privately in another room.

‘Why did I not return Eder’s visit?’ al-Hajj Amin said, agitated. ‘Because his predecessor, Ussishkin, insulted my late brother publicly and unforgivably!’ Nevertheless, Frumkin persuaded al-Hajj Amin to meet Kisch at a dinner at his, Frumkin’s, house. But Kisch again behaved rudely and rejected the invitation. This time he had a different excuse: Dr Ticho, the commissioner’s private physician, had invited both him and al-Hajj Amin to his house, but when the latter had heard that Kisch was going to be there, he refused to come. Frumkin had no doubt that
the problem lay in Kisch’s reluctance to have anything to do with the Arabs. At first glance, these encounters may seem to be quarrels between gangs of overgrown children – this was how the British perceived them – but they were more than that. Gestures counted for a great deal in Palestine, as they often revealed the raw and authentic attitude, which at times could be covered with doubletalk and insincerity.
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But we are anticipating – in 1920 Kamil was still alive and al-Hajj Amin had not yet succeeded him. That June, Kamil’s family and the rest of the Husaynis worried that the pro-Zionist Jewish High Commissioner would encourage the leaders of the Jewish community to continue behaving in an arrogant and overbearing way. Kamil was hoping that Chaim Weizmann would head the Zionist camp, because he had been impressed by him and believed he did not wish to dispossess the Palestinians. He was more suspicious of the High Commissioner, and a meeting held on 7 July between Sir Herbert and a number of Palestinian notables including Kamil did not help. However, in August a minor gesture made by the High Commissioner placed him on the positive side of the ledger in Kamil’s book, if not in Palestinian history.

On 20 August, the tired Sir Herbert came to al-Salt in Transjordan to reassure the Bedouin
sheikhs
that Faysal’s departure from Damascus did not mean Britain’s withdrawal from Transjordan; as the chief representative of the British Mandate, he was also responsible for this region. He was sitting on a chair inside the great tent, facing the
sheikhs
, who sat cross-legged on rugs, when an eager young officer broke into the conversation: ‘Al-Hajj Amin and Arif al-Arif are here. Let’s grab them and take them back to Jerusalem!’ Sir Herbert turned questioningly to a
sheikh
who had impressed him as wise and moderate. ‘That would not be wise,’ the
sheikh
replied. ‘Your forces are small, and al-Hajj Amin and Arif are the guests of a tribe armed with thousands of rifles. You’re camped down in a deep
wadi
, while they are on the surrounding hillsides, and they will protect their guests to the last drop of blood, because that is the custom here.’ The decision was made immediately not to try to capture the two.
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The following day, Sir Herbert presented himself before the
sheikhs
wearing his medals and a fresh white suit. Before he could say anything, some of the
sheikhs
appealed to him to pardon the two young Palestinians. The High Commissioner had considered the matter during the night and made up his mind; to general surprise, he pardoned the two then and there. Almost by magic, Arif al-Arif appeared,
borne on the shoulders of local young men. The cautious al-Hajj Amin stayed out of sight, perhaps because he did not trust the British official. He wrote to his brother that he did not care to be pardoned because he was not a criminal. But when Kamil fell ill, he accepted the pardon and returned to Jerusalem in December 1920.

Sir Herbert must have hoped to indicate by his gesture that he was not pro-Zionist but had the welfare of the entire population at heart. When Izzat Darwaza heard about the pardon, he told the Husaynis that Sir Herbert must have been concerned that, with al-Hajj Amin absent, their rivals the Nashashibis, who had already obtained the post of mayor, would grow too strong, thus depriving the British of the old colonial ploy of ‘divide and rule’. But Kamil did not accept this explanation. He believed that the High Commissioner’s kindness and his desire to begin his tenure in an atmosphere of goodwill had prompted him to issue the pardon.

That summer the Husaynis had to change their position on the future of Palestine. On 23 July, Faysal was defeated by the French forces in Maysalun. He then came to Haifa and waited for a new position in one of Britain’s territories. Since Greater Syria was no more, what would happen to Palestine? The Literary Club – composed mostly of Nashashibis and some Husaynis – had been right not to support the union of Syria and Palestine. At the end of the month, Musa Kazim addressed the activists of the Palestinian organizations: ‘Now, after the recent events in Damascus, we must change our plans entirely. Southern Syria is no more. We must defend Palestine.’
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Aided by Jamil al-Husayni, Musa Kazim accepted the leadership; al-Hajj Amin was still in exile. Jamil, the only scion of the Umari branch who was still active in politics, had thought of himself as a candidate, but Musa Kazim was more prominent. When the members of the organizations asked Musa Kazim to lead them in preparation for the third Palestinian Congress, he agreed. The conference convened in Haifa in December 1920, and Musa Kazim was elected its president.

But before the Haifa conference, the fourth anniversary of the Balfour Declaration came around. The population was becoming accustomed to national anniversaries being marked alongside the saints’ days and pilgrimages. As time went on, the number of commemorated injustices and catastrophes in Palestinian history grew so much that by the end of the twentieth century there was hardly a free day left on the calendar. In November 1920, the protests in Jerusalem were fairly limited and confined to the Old City. The turmoil lasted
only a few hours. The American consul described it in his report to Washington in the dry language of a diplomat: ‘All the Arab shops in Palestine were shut today, in protest against the Balfour Declaration. The Jews threw a hand-grenade and wounded Arabs; in retaliation, the Arabs killed four Jews. Martial law has been re-imposed.’
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It all began when the demonstrators tried to pass through the Jewish Quarter. As in April 1920, the Jews, feeling threatened, again responded with firearms, leaving one Arab dead. The Arabs, who were more numerous, used knives and other weapons, hence the large number of Jewish wounded. By the end of the month, everyone was busy with preparations for the Haifa conference, and the agitation died down for a time.

On 13 December, three Husaynis went to Haifa to take part in the seven-day conference. Their attendance signaled the family’s continued presence (but not yet their prominence) in the political arena, not only in Jerusalem but throughout Palestine. Musa Kazim, al-Hajj Amin and Muhammad Salah had come to Haifa a few days earlier after celebrating al-Hajj Amin’s pardon and return. Only al-Hajj Amin, with his relentless energy, had the necessary qualities to dominate events; only he was capable of compelling Palestinians with senior posts in the mandatory government to donate two months’ salary to finance the conference. Not that the notables were short of funds, but this was their way of showing real commitment to the national cause. Preparations for the conference had to take place in secret. Having been forbidden to engage in political activity, al-Hajj Amin was back in his former post of teacher at the Rawdat al-Ma’arif school – which was actually his private property. For this reason, the conference was convened in Haifa under the aegis of the Haifa Muslim-Christian Association, a local organization regarded favorably by the British authorities.

The need for secrecy made organizing the conference problematic. Nevertheless, the towns and villages were represented as fairly as possible under the circumstances. Thirty-six delegates took part. Having each talked to his community about the need for religious and national cooperation, the great religious leader Sheikh Suleiman al-Taji al-Faruqi and the head of the Catholic community, Bullus Shehadeh, together prepared the groundwork for a demonstration of Muslim-Christian solidarity.
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Backed by slogans proclaiming the sanctity of Palestine for Christians and Muslims, Haifa’s
mufti
, Muhammad Murad, opened the conference and welcomed the honorable delegates and guests who
had come from all over the country. He gave special thanks to the Haifa Muslim-Christian Association, which had convened the conference on behalf of the people of Palestine to protest the decision of the League of Nations to grant Britain a mandate that incorporated the Balfour Declaration.

The slogan of the conference was ‘Equality with the Mandate of Iraq’. The text of Iraq’s mandate stipulated that it would have a parliament elected on the democratic principle of one citizen, one vote. It acknowledged Iraq as a
watani
(national entity) that would eventually become independent. The
sheikh
explained to those gathered that these were the most elementary demands, yet they had been denied to the Palestinians because of the Balfour Declaration.

The conference also discussed issues of lesser magnitude concerning the participants and the public they represented. Since there was a shortage of grain in Palestine, the British authorities forbade exporting grain to neighboring countries, and the merchants were asking to be allowed to renew trade with Arab countries. Musa Kazim, who had spent time in a British jail, talked about the harsh conditions inside, and it was resolved to demand that the authorities improve the prison system.

This was Musa Kazim’s hour of greatness. Since having been deposed as mayor of Jerusalem, he had not found his place in Palestinian politics. Now he began to fight for his role as leader of the national movement. He was chosen to head the executive committee of the conference, a nine-member body that soon became the Palestinians’ unofficial government under mandatory rule. Musa Kazim’s speech showed that he felt like the prophet of a new national movement:

This is the story of Palestine, the land of miracles and the supernatural, and the cradle of religions … And this is the congress which was born from the suffering of Palestine. It is Palestine’s representative and spokesman.

He went on to speak about Zionism as an organization that sought to separate Palestine from her friend Britain, and described the practical assistance the Palestinians had given the British during the battle for the country. The conference resolutions were phrased in the same spirit.

Needless to say, since Faysal had been driven from Damascus, Palestine was never again referred to as part of Greater Syria. However, Musa Kazim also introduced in his speech various imaginary elements
that would do more harm than good once they were adopted by Palestinian public relations. He mixed morally and politically persuasive concrete arguments with foolish statements like, ‘Wherever the Jews lived they engaged in destruction, which is why they invented Marxism,’ undermining rational arguments against the Jewish claim to Palestine. This confusion persisted at the heart of the Palestinian national discourse – to some extent because of the Husaynis.

In all of the photographs from the conference, a mustached young man dressed in the modern suit preferred by his generation is standing on Musa Kazim’s right. Before long this young man, al-Hajj Amin, would grow a beard and put on a tarbush and become the Grand Mufti of Palestine. At this time, his position was not yet established in Haifa.

In the fourth session, the delegates held a secret ballot to elect the executive committee, choosing the nine candidates with the largest number of votes. Al-Hajj Amin was not among the winners. Thirty-three delegates (all but the three Husaynis) chose Arif al-Dajani. Musa Kazim received only twenty-six votes but was elected, as noted, as a chairman as a tribute to his seniority. The three Husaynis did not play a prominent part in the debates, and only in one of the sessions (when the venue of future conferences was discussed) did their voices predominate. Haifa and four other centers were proposed, but al-Hajj Amin pressed for Jerusalem and won.

The third conference also signaled the end of Kamil al-Husayni’s role in this story. He was to be replaced by Musa Kazim, al-Hajj Amin and Jamal, who became the leading figures in the Husayni clan during the British Mandate. Kamil made his last appearance in this history when he met with McCracken, Whittingham and Storrs at a reception held in the garden of the municipality in honor of the king’s birthday. It was a pleasant occasion, and the conversation was not about politics. Whittingham recalled that they talked about a custom that surprised foreign visitors – namely, Palestinian monogamy. Musa Kazim noted that most Muslims in Palestine were content to marry one woman, and suddenly the Europeans, Americans and Palestinians shared a sense of closeness.