The Haj - Leon Uris [196]
‘I have contacts in Haifa among my own relatives,’ he said. ‘They have spoken to certain Jewish officials. The door is definitely open.’
‘Do you have numbers?’ Ibrahim probed.
‘No,’ Maan answered with enough directness to convince Ibrahim. Maan apparently did not know about the hundred thousand figure.
‘And you, Ahmed Taji?’ Ibrahim asked.
‘I have heard from your own uncle, the great Sheik Walid Azziz, who now roams the Negev Desert freely. He has gotten information to me that the Jews would not object if I and my tribe return to our lands, provided we do not make trouble.’
‘What of you, Haj?’ Maan asked.
‘Well, let me say we have all the same information. My belief is that they will negotiate.’
‘We realize that if we accept this undertaking we will have to do so in the face of Arab outrage. We will be denounced as traitors,’ Maan said.
‘That is not enough to blackmail me into dying in that cursed camp,’ Taji said.
‘Nor me,’ Ibrahim added.
‘Then here is what we must do. We must hold a convention of West Bank refugees. I repeat, refugees only. Not the wealthy who fled. Not those who sold their asses to Abdullah. We must pass a resolution to negotiate a return with the Jews and, most important, we must send a delegation to the International Arbitration Commission in Zurich.’
‘Now it is you who is the dreamer,’ Taji declared. ‘How do we get five hundred refugees to agree to such resolutions?’
‘By inviting only the right people,’ Charles Maan retorted. ‘I can control who is in the delegation from every camp north of Ramallah.’
Taji’s white beard took a number of keen strokes and he narrowed his eyes. He rolled his hand with a maybe yes, maybe no gesture. ‘If I had some funds to pass around, it would be no problem.’
‘What you must do, Sheik Taji, is give each delegate the promise that he and his family will be the first to return. Believe me, they will run back even faster than they fled.’
‘It has possibilities,’ Taji answered, already going over his alliances in his mind.
‘Haj?’
‘Jericho has strange camps. We have collected all the leftovers, the broken tribes, the broken villages. There is less than no unity. My best approach is to simply announce a list of delegates and see to it that no opposition forms.’
‘How?’
‘We have a lot of young boys running loose in gangs terrorizing everyone. I can put them to proper use.’
‘Good enough,’ Maan said. ‘Keep the date a secret so the Jordanians do not get wind of it. We will announce the convention one or two days before it takes place. The main trick is to have all the resolutions passed in a single day and adjourn before the Jordanians know what hit them.’
‘Yes, that is good,’ Haj Ibrahim concurred.
‘We will convene the conference in Hebron,’ Taji said.
‘Hebron would be a mistake,’ Charles Maan said quickly. ‘Your camp is isolated in the south in the middle of Abdullah’s greatest West Bank stronghold. Why go into a lion’s den?’
‘Charles is right,’ Ibrahim said. ‘Hebron would be a trap waiting to spring. As for me, Jericho is just too damned close to the Allenby Bridge. Your people in Ramallah are the best-organized refugee group. What of Ramallah?’
‘Ramallah! It is scarcely in Palestine,’ Taji roared.
‘Brothers,’ Charles Maan said in a soft manner, to indicate he had already thought the problem over. ‘I propose Bethlehem.’
‘Bethlehem?’
‘Bethlehem?’
‘Bethlehem?’
The sheik covered his heart with his hand in a flourish to denote sincerity. ‘Bethlehem is a city of divine holiness for you, my brother Charles. However, except for its one day of purity a year, it has always had a reputation for the worst prostitutes in Palestine.’
‘What a terrible thing to say!’ Ibrahim snapped.
‘But he speaks the truth,’ Maan said. ‘The whores of Bethlehem are a known fact. Fortunately it is only known in Palestine. To the outside world, to whom we must appeal, the name of Bethlehem has a sacred ring and an immediate identity. I assure you that it will arouse the curiosity of the foreign press.’
Taji tugged on his beard and deliberated